Dream: Eight Years Before the Crisis

The Sovereign's breathing grew ragged, yet his movements turned ever more tender, drawing the one in his embrace into a honeyed tide until exhaustion claimed them once more in deep slumber.

The fool was not adept at thinking or pleasing others, but in this moment, she didn't need to think, relying only on instinctual craving. The hunger that had tormented her for years gradually subsided, the hollow cavity deep in her heart now completely filled. As contentment washed over her, sweet dreams followed.

Before meeting the Sovereign, her memories were fragmented and blurry; her dreams mere disjointed snippets.

Crimson flooded her vision—crimson liquid drying to black, white fluid spraying from shattered skulls, thick and foul-smelling. She first learned the forms of blood and brain matter, only later their names. From childhood, she was acutely sensitive to scents and sounds; the roar of cannons and gunfire lasted for days on end, the smell of gunpowder blooming with each deafening blast.

She seemed to have met some people too, men and women, shadowy figures. Their faces blurred amidst smoke and dust, always vanishing quickly.

It wasn't until the moment the Sovereign brought her back to the palace that her memories became clear and sharp.

Back then, the Sovereign was just a youth, not yet ascended to his position.

In the dream of the palace, spring's temperature was just right, the morning sun warm, a fresh scent unfurling across the grass.

The youth's voice was clear and bright, like the sun itself.

He said, "From now on, you'll stay here. Your code name is 037."

So she began sweeping floors and cleaning windows. Because she made few mistakes, the head steward started teaching her to pour tea.

At that time, she wasn't yet a fool.

She began diligently imitating the young Sovereign, as if driven by a biological instinct to mimic the strong.

When the Sovereign didn't speak, she didn't speak; when he didn't smile, she didn't smile. Later, because she went so long without smiling, the head steward reprimanded her. After kneeling for half a day, she spent another half a day learning how to smile properly.

After that, she never forgot to wear a perpetual smile on her face.

But the Sovereign didn't seem pleased; he smiled even less.

She even pondered whether she should only smile in front of others, but when facing the Sovereign, she would put her smile away.

But before she could think it through to a conclusion, she became a fool.

The Sovereign's bedsheets were always washed in rotation. His sheets and undergarments were delicate and precious, requiring hand-washing—a tiring task, so they took turns. One day, she caught a strange, musky scent.

It was at this very moment her thinking halted, and a craving began.

Every day in the palace, she interacted with its buildings, plants, and water flows, so she knew that scent could only come from the youth's clothes and bedsheets.

She proactively took on the most exhausting hand-washing chores, letting the others go pour tea or arrange flowers.

She didn't speak, always smiled, and willingly did the hardest work, so the other maids secretly started calling her the fool.

She didn't feel much about it.

Only, after taking on all the laundry, she still rarely caught that strange scent, which was somewhat regrettable.

Later on, she heard people discussing the Sovereign, saying his memory was exceptional.

So she began imitating that too.

Silently memorizing everything around her. Her memory grew sharper with deliberate practice. She could recall not just scenes and words, but even the finest details and the feelings of the moment.

After becoming all-encompassing, her memory gradually grew targeted, leaning more and more toward the Sovereign.

Memorizing the Sovereign's preferences, actions, and traces.

Her efforts bore fruit. When she once again poured warm water into a teacup as the Sovereign grew thirsty and presented it to him, the Sovereign began designating her for personal service.

By then, although she hadn't smelled that strange scent in a long time, being by the Sovereign's side seemed to ease that maddening craving somewhat. 037 felt a flicker of joy inside, but her expression remained perfectly still. She feared if she made too many expressions, the Sovereign would be displeased.

Later, the Sovereign summoned the few maids who most often called her an idiot before him and punished them severely—parts of their tongues were cut off.

Afterwards, these individuals were permanently expelled from the Imperial Capital.

The Sovereign told her that if anyone disrupted discipline in the future, she could report directly to the Chief Steward or to the Sovereign himself.

From that day on, her craving turned into hunger.

Even standing by the Sovereign's side, this hunger born from the depths of her body could not be alleviated; it only grew more intense.

037 had completely become an idiot.

Especially around the Sovereign, she could only mechanically record everything without a thought. The slightest hint of her own idea, and the hunger threatened to devour her whole.

But when she wasn't by the Sovereign's side, she occasionally regained clarity. In those moments, she would subconsciously imitate the Sovereign.

Then came another spring day. She was following behind the Sovereign, dizzy with hunger.

The fragrance of plants and grass seemed even more appetizing.

The Sovereign turned around and placed a hand against her face.

He was accustomed to holding a gun; his hand was calloused, rough, hard, and warm.

Dizzy and lightheaded, 037 lowered her head slightly to press closer.

Her tongue pressed hard against the roof of her mouth as she desperately resisted the impulse to taste.

She seemed to have done poorly. The Sovereign was displeased.

The next day, she was transferred to the action team.

The Chief Steward advised her, saying this was the Sovereign's test for her. If she could just preserve her life, there would be a chance to return to the Imperial Capital in five years.

That was the first, and only, time she shed tears.

She was grateful for the Chief Steward's kindness, and she also knew this was punishment for her disrespect.

The five years were not difficult to endure.

It was just that on some nights, when hunger and craving arrived in turn, she would still deeply regret her loss of composure.

Until she saw the Sovereign again, when he came to her side with a changed appearance.

She spent the happiest days of her life.

Until the Great Cataclysm.