The Emperor's Omega Is An Extra-Chapter 247: Life On Line (1)

Arren composed himself; they were aware that there was only a small chance that this session could be successful, but the risk was equally present.

Last night, he already told Spade and the Duke his decision. Although it was only for a moment, both expressions were grim, but they respected his decision. At least Spade was prepared for it, while his father seemed to have a lot of questions but chose not to ask them in the end.

At first, he was getting anxious since what they would be doing was unknown to him. As he lay down uneasily, he almost wanted to shift his body around, but he had to fight this urge.

Fortunately, Ms. M’s voice was enough to calm him down gradually. After a few minutes of uneasiness, a new, unprecedented drowsiness wanted to take over him as he listened to the elderly’s voice.

He didn’t know if this was normal, but he only obeyed what she was saying, which seemed incomprehensible to his state at this moment.

The last thing he heard before his consciousness fully turned hazy was Ms. M’s encouragement.

Arren’s perception of his surroundings grew weaker, but he at least knew that his consciousness was in between the dreamland and reality. That was when he knew that this session was a success.

There was nothing magical about it, but as it was new to him, it still amazed him, but only for a moment. Arren was reminded that what he might have seen in his deepest subconsciousness were probably not beautiful memories. No, we were sure that it wasn’t.

After calming down, he remembered that it was something Ms. M advised them to do before they proceeded with the session. He also quickly adapted to his state; after thinking about it, the situation he was in seemed familiar to him.

It wasn’t new to him. His state was similar to when he had his vivid dreams; the only difference was that in this state, Arren was truly only a bystander and could only watch what might happen. In his vivid dreams, he was both the bystander watching the scenes unfold and the one relieving the scenes and in most cases, he could even immerse himself in them until the boundary between dreams and reality became blurred.

He didn’t know if it could be a good thing; at least he wouldn’t be affected too much. Arren hoped so, truly.

He forced himself to calm down and be in his best condition, but the lingering nervousness still remained.

A few minutes had passed, and the haziness around him seemed to disperse. Slowly, an image was starting to become clear before him. It was as though the film was finally starting, and the audience was truly only like an audience with a good view of everything.

However, as the scene was about to become real, Arren found out that all of his senses had become active, such as his ears, which could listen actively and clearly to the surroundings or even smell the pungent scent of the place.

As the scene became fully exposed to him, the feelings of the person running in the scenario also resonated with him.

Despair, anger, and longing These feelings were all so jumbled that it was chaotic.

Arren froze; his mind focused considerably on what was happening in this particular memory in his deepest subconscious. He seemed to be mistaken. Being a bystander didn’t mean... He wouldn’t be affected.

The person running, although he was so frail and weak that what he was doing couldn’t be considered to be running. His hand supported him against the wall as he tried and forced himself to get away.

The surroundings were mostly dark, and only a few lights from above illuminated the path. At some point, the person would gasp from breathlessness or even pain, but he gritted his teeth and continued.

The slightly damp ground was now beginning to get crimson from the blood coming from the person’s wounds. As the person walked by the place where there was some concentrated light, his appearance was then illuminated.

His pink hair was then conspicuous; the cotton candy color of his hair was still vibrant, but it was now damp with sweat. And this dye couldn’t even light up the expression on his face.

The obviously beautiful face lingered with bruises; some cuts on his lips were fresh as they bled, dripping on the corner of his lips. The exhaustion and hopelessness, despite trying so hard to move his weak body, were evident in his eyes.

If Arren could, he would already be gasping in disbelief. His ears started to ring, and a kind of fear suddenly crept into her upon seeing the state of the person who couldn’t be more familiar to him.

Arren. It was him. Or, the real Arren. Either way, it wasn’t that important anymore as a sharp pain made its way into his heart seeing himself in this situation.

Despite looking as though he would collapse at any moment, Arren was still persistent. Despite the hopelessness that was beginning to shroud him, he continued to pray and called out the names of the important people to him.

At some point, his legs gave out, and the pain from his legs—no, from his whole body—erupted at once. Arren couldn’t help but sit; fresh tears streamed out of his eyes as he silently whimpered. He couldn’t even sob; he was afraid that his voice might attract the attention of those finding him.

The blood gushed out of his wounds, especially at his bandaged neck, which had now become red. He had a lot of injuries and wounds, some of which he was truly ashamed of, but what disgusted him the most and the most horrendous wound of him was the bite marks at his scent gland.

They were there, and it never healed. It was the source of his suffering and a reminder of what happened to him.

As he silently whimpered, gritting his teeth to not make a sound, which in turn opened the wounds in his lips, Arren didn’t even know what he was doing.

He knew the chances of escaping this hell hole were negligible. Arren would only have killed himself much earlier, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping.

He had this longing and selfish thought that, at least one last time, he could see them; he could see him.

"S-Spade..." he mumbled. No, he whined with desperation.

As soon as Arren, who was looking at his image in this memory, heard him whimper the alpha’s name, all of his emotions resonated with him, and the pain in his heart grew heavier as though he were about to be suffocated.

He couldn’t breathe, as though the pain the Arren on the memory had been going through was transferring to him.

Arren flinched, and sounds of footsteps sounded in the damp underground. He took a heavy breath, and his shoulders hunched in hopelessness. Despite the pain, he lifted his head as his hollowed eyes looked at the newcomer.

Her attire was not the least bit suitable in this filthy environment. There was a smile on her lips as she looked down at the wounded Arren. Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of blood.

"Found you." Princess Coreen playfully uttered.

As Arren’s hollowed pupils shook seeing the princess, Arren, who was watching this scene, woke up in a cold sweat.