Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 545: CONTROLLING ONE’S DREAM

In the end, silence fell over the hall.

Every single guard had been slaughtered.

Only Nightflame, the captain, and Scar remained standing.

[Protocol initiated!]

"Finally," Nightflame said with a wide smile. "I was beginning to wonder when you would be activated."

Scar and the captain frowned deeply at his words. They could sense that something was very wrong, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was.

Then the protocol activated.

A massive burst of chaotic energy exploded throughout the large hall. It tore through everything in its path, ripping apart walls, floors, and debris with savage force.

The only place left untouched was the small safe zone where Scar and the captain stood.

Nightflame could not hide his enormous grin. He welcomed the chaotic energy with open joy.

He stretched out his hand eagerly and began absorbing the raging storm. The wild power slammed into him, tempering his chaos physique with every brutal wave.

The more chaotic energy battered the surroundings, the more Nightflame drew it in. Soon he was pulling it forcefully toward himself.

Chaotic energy from every angle rushed straight to him, flowing like a hungry river into his body.

Scar and the captain stared in utter confusion. They watched as Nightflame stood completely unaffected by the same chaotic energy that should have torn him apart in an instant.

"What the hell is going on?!" Scar roared, his voice thick with rage and confusion.

Nightflame did not care in the slightest how Scar felt.

With his mystic eyes active, he already knew Scar’s entire plan.

He knew the secret weapon had always been the chaotic energy itself.

That was exactly why he had stayed calm when the protocol started,.he had simply continued enjoying the appetizers.

[Warning! Warning! Warning!]

Alarms blared from every corner of the fortress, sharp and urgent.

Nightflame’s deliberate, greedy absorption of the chaotic energy had overloaded the entire system.

The fortress struggled to keep producing the destructive force, and the strain grew unbearable.

After several piercing warnings, the whole fortress erupted into violent flames.

"My life’s work..." Scar muttered bitterly.

He stood amid the smoking rubble of what had once been his powerful fortress, the captain at his side.

They were the only two survivors.

The safe zone had thrown up a final shield at the last possible second, protecting them both before ejecting them high into the grey sky just before the explosion tore everything apart.

"Looking on the bright side, sir," the captain said, trying to sound positive. "At least we took care of him."

"That damn Trunk," Scar cursed under his breath. "If I could, I would kill him over and over again."

If Trunk had never brought that madman to his fortress, Scar knew his stronghold would still be standing, intact and secure.

He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to calm down.

After several more rounds of cursing Trunk’s name, his rage finally settled.

"At least that son of a bitch died in the explosion," Scar growled. "Alright. Let’s move to my temporary base before more enemies come looking for me."

He began calculating the quickest and safest route in his mind, one that would avoid every old rival he had made over the years.

"There’s no need to worry about your enemies," a calm voice drifted through the air. "You won’t be living that long."

The words sent an icy chill straight through both Scar and the captain’s hearts.

"You! How are you still alive?!" Scar shouted, fear cracking his voice.

He stumbled backward, trying to flee. The captain did the same, eyes wide with terror.

"What’s so special about explosions?" Nightflame asked with a cold smile. "They happen to me all the time."

In a blur of motion, he shot forward and caught the captain by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.

"Hypocrites like you are what I hate the most," Nightflame said coldly. "You pretend to care about your men, but you didn’t think twice about sacrificing them the moment it meant saving your own neck."

"Please... let me go," the captain begged frantically, his voice trembling.

"I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t follow his orders, a lot of people I cared about would have died. I didn’t mean to do any of that!"

"The smell of fear," Nightflame muttered, savoring the rich scent. "Nothing ever beats it."

With a quick, merciless twist, he snapped the captain’s neck. Then he drank deeply from the final rush of fear that spilled out of the dying man.

"Now that leaves just me and you for a very long conversation," Nightflame said, smiling as he appeared directly in front of Scar through a single time-step.

"Don’t touch me!" Scar warned desperately. "If you touch me, the Mad One will be alerted. You don’t want to mess with him!"

"This method is old and inefficient," Nightflame mocked. "It has never helped anyone stay alive."

He placed his hand firmly on Scar’s head and forced him into a deep, hypnotic sleep.

Then Nightflame stepped into the dream world of Scar’s mind.

He took full control of the dream, shaping it exactly as he needed to extract every piece of proper information about the universe they were in.

Scar found himself dreaming of the past.

It felt like a lucid dream at first, vivid, clear, and strangely real.

But the longer it went on, the more he realized he was not the one in control.

Someone else held the reins completely.

He relived every single moment of his life as if watching a movie played just for him.

The scenes unfolded with perfect, merciless clarity.

The very first memory was his birth.

He was not born inside this grey, chaotic universe.

At the beginning, he had entered a world bursting with vibrant color, rich blues, warm golds, and living greens that pulsed with life.

A mother and father waited there, their faces soft with love and hope.

But the instant he drew his first breath, the anomaly that he was revealed itself.

A violent spatial rift tore open right above him.

It yanked him away with brutal force, pulling the newborn straight out of that colorful world and into the strange, colorless realm of random chaos.

The current scene hit Scar like a thunderbolt.

He had never known any of this. As a baby, he had no memory of it, until now.

Yet thanks to whoever was controlling his dream, he was forced to relive the moment in sharp, painful detail.

Every sound, every flash of light, every helpless sensation washed over him as if it were happening all over again.