The world outside moved forward.
Birds chirped in distant trees. Neon signs blinked lazily through the Tokyo morning haze. Children ran past, backpacks bouncing, laughter chasing them like shadows.
Inside Reo's room, however, time had stopped.
Yua slept.
For the first time in days, her face was peaceful—untouched by fear, unhaunted by whispers. Her hand still lay against Reo's chest, fingers curled in a delicate fist over his heart. Like she was anchoring herself to him, afraid that if she let go, the world would fold in again.
Reo sat silently beside her, a stillness clinging to him that Doraemon found almost... reverent.
"You've changed," Doraemon said at last.
Reo didn't answer immediately. He was watching Yua's face. As if memorizing it.
"No," he finally murmured. "I've just remembered what I swore to become."
Doraemon's expression turned unreadable. "You could have died back there. The Dream Trigger is unstable. Caius is dangerous. You're walking into territories no human mind should ever enter."
Reo slowly turned his gaze to the robot cat. "Then let me be the first."
---
Later That Day
News spread fast.
The actress Yua Kanzaki had suddenly "recovered" from her mysterious illness. Media outlets were silenced—Reo had already bought them out quietly through a shell company using Nobita's dormant inheritance accounts. He moved like a ghost in the financial world now—anonymous, strategic, impossible to trace.
He didn't want attention.
He wanted power.
But not just wealth.
Leverage.
And that meant one thing: technology.
---
Nobita's House, Underground Workshop
Doraemon stood before him, arms crossed.
"You want me to teach you how to make dream gadgets?"
"No," Reo said. "I want you to teach me how to build something stronger than that."
He turned to the blueprint he'd sketched on the wall. It was rough, manic, genius—drawn in sharp lines and brutal efficiency.
A neural-melded interface system.
A bridge between reality and the subconscious.
"A gateway," Reo said, "between minds."
Doraemon frowned. "Even I don't have a gadget like that. The Memory Recorder and Dream Reader only observe. They don't influence."
Reo tapped the blueprint. "Then we'll create one. From scratch."
"Why?"
Reo's voice darkened. "Because Caius is real. Not just a parasite. He's a being with motive, with access to something I don't understand yet. If he can jump into minds, he's already found a way to bypass dimensional integrity."
Doraemon blinked. "You think he's from another timeline?"
"I know he is."
---
Meanwhile…
Far across town, in a black room no cameras could see, Caius stood in front of a mirror.
But it wasn't his reflection that stared back.
It was Reo.
And he was smiling.
"You're getting stronger," Caius said. "But strength doesn't equal immunity."
Behind him, dozens of mindscapes floated in containment pods—people who had fallen asleep and never awakened. Caius's collection. His army.
A girl in a school uniform.
A businessman with broken glasses.
A child.
Each dream twisted, corrupted, feeding something ancient and hungry.
Caius ran a hand through his reflection.
"Your ambition will be your undoing, Reo," he whispered.
---
Back at Reo's Side
Night again.
Yua had woken and sat beside him on the rooftop. Her eyes held the moon like it was an old friend.
"I remember now," she said softly. "What he whispered to me. Before you found me."
Reo didn't look at her. He was watching the stars.
"What did he say?"
"That you weren't real," she said. "That I made you up. That you were just a perfect lie I clung to so I wouldn't fall apart."
She turned to him. "Was he right?"
Reo finally met her eyes.
"No," he said. "But I used to be."
She blinked. "Used to be?"
"I used to be a lie. A ghost inside a failure's skin. But now… I'm the one writing the story."
He leaned back, closing his eyes.
"And it won't end with tragedy."
---