"What was it? The hunt, the blood, or the horrible dream?"
"None." You pause, and let the silence linger for about a second before continuing. "I just think you deserve a rest."
The old man's eyes widen. A dry chuckle escapes his wizened lips. "Dear oh dear," his mouth curls into a smile. It almost looks like a grimace, yet you can't help but feel the fondness emanating from it. "You're certainly the most interesting person to ever enter this Dream, child. But still, a child that you are, you don't know what you speak of. Of what entails if you choose this course of action."
You close your eyes, and images begin to flash through your mind involuntarily. Gascoigne. Iosefka. Simon. Alfred. Gilbert. The little girl and her sister. Arianna.
The faces of people you had been unable to protect, people you had been unable to save.
Your biggest failure. A proof that even though great strength has been bestowed upon you by this Hunter's Dream, you are still nothing but a waste of skin.
"…Perhaps I don't," You finally answer. You open your eyes, and for all it's worth, you can feel that grim determination once again filling your chest. "But it changes nothing. I've failed one too many times tonight, old man, but even so, I still have enough in me to save one last person."
"…No matter what it costs me." You add, trailing off into silence.
"You are kind, young hunter. But that kindness might prove to be your downfall." Gehrman stands up from his wheelchair. You can't help the shock, and the chill coursing through your vein, because when you blink, he is suddenly clad in a different clothes. "Oh, it doesn't matter."
The old hunter draws what looks like a scimitar, and slams it into the folded wooden shaft strapped on his back, turning it into a massive scythe.
"It always comes down to the hunters' helper to clean up after these sorts of messes."
The chill turns into dread, yet you can also feel a small excitement at the prospect of fighting him. Because this is Gehrman, your instructor. Your teacher. Your mentor. And most certainly, the only father figure you have ever had in your eighteen years of life, infinitely moreso than your own father who had thrown you out into the streets.
You draw your Saw Cleaver and Blunderbuss, the first weapons Gehrman had taught you to use, and prepare yourself for what is possibly the hardest and most dangerous opponent you will ever face.
You look up, lock eyes with Gehrman, and hear a single sentence uttered from his lips.
"Tonight, Gehrman joins the hunt…"
•••
You stab the Saw Cleaver into the ground, while vomiting a mouthful of blood onto the white flowers below, coloring them red.
Your breathing is ragged, your clothes tattered, and your frame covered in so many wounds you feel like you have just been pushed through a meat grinder. You try your best to keep your stance, to hold onto whatever it is that keeps you in the fight for so long, but no matter what you do, your body and strength betray you, driving you down onto your knees.
Through your eyes, blurred by blood, you see your opponent standing tall before you.
'Ah…' You look down. Your grip on the cleaver, the only thing that prevented you from falling flat on the ground, tightens just a little bit, as a bitter feeling overcomes you. 'I really am a failure—'
"You've become a great Hunter." Gehrman's voice interrupts your thought. Puzzled, you bring your sight over to your mentor again, putting more effort to scrutinize him better. And this time, you are finally able to see a deep, gaping, and definitely fatal wound on Gehrman's torso, stretching from his left shoulder to his right hip.
"A great Hunter, indeed." Another chuckle—it sounds wet, you notice. So very wet—is audible, and you look up higher only to see neither a sneer nor a scowl, but a wide smile is painted on the First Hunter's face, even as crimson blood drips down his chin. "I'm honored to have taught you, child."
It is acknowledgment and pride, all rolled into one sentence. And yet, even though you know you should feel happy for this victory, all you can feel right now was sadness, because you know this is to be the very last time you will ever see him.
"A-and I…" you stop and blink to ward off the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. The time for grief will come later. As you speak again, you try your hardest to keep your voice from shaking. "And I'm honored… to have been taught by you."
Gehrman gives you one last smile. "Farewell, my keen hunter." He looks up and stares at the sky. "Ah…" he lets out a long sigh, his eyes closing for now and ever. "The night, and the dream, were long…"
You surge forward, trying to catch your mentor's falling body, but the moment you touch, he turns into white smoke and disperses into the air, leaving only the scythe as a memento for you to hold on to.
With trembling hands, you pick up the weapon and hug it close to your chest.
The battle truly over, your will finally breaks, and then you begin to sob.
•••
You spend some time just sitting there, grieving and mourning your lost mentor. But no matter how much losing him hurt, you know you can at least rest easy knowing that not only you've freed him from the Dream, but you've also give him the chance to join Lady Maria in the afterlife. So with that, you wipe off the last trace of your tears, return the Burial Blade back onto its scimitar state, and get on your feet, ready to head back to talk to Doll and figure out what do you do from now on.
You didn't make two steps before noticing that something is amiss. You turn and look around, seeing that the flower field has just gotten a whole lot brighter than it was a minute ago. Bringing your gaze upward reveals that the clouds has turned very dark, but your inspection lasts for but a half second because all that is trivial compared to the sight of Paleblood Moon, and the humanoid creature descending from it.
"…Oh dear…"
When it inevitably lands on the flower field, your body begins to shake. Because, even though you don't exactly know how, you can feel the terrible strength just… emanating from the being, utterly and unquestionably far more powerful than the any other eldritch creatures you'd faced throughout your time in Yharnam. The fact that you have exhausted everything—be it blood vials or quicksilver bullets—in the duel against Gehrman doesn't help settling your frazzled nerves.
Then again, you have been expecting this, haven't you? You knew that, if you were to release Gehrman from his shackle, something like this would happen. After all, Gehrman is—was—the host of Hunter's Dream, and thus, releasing him will definitely draw the attention, if not outright ire, of whatever it is that created the Dream in the first place.
But, what should you do? In fact, what can you do? If your hunches are correct, then this immeasurably powerful being before you is the source of this otherworldly realm, and in it, it reigns supreme. You don't stand a chance if you were to go against it.
…No. You are Gehrman's student. He is the best and strongest among all Hunters, and he is proud of you, so you will not shame his memory by acting like a cowardly fool.
The thought gives you strength. You straighten your back, and stare at the Moon Presence right in the face. If this is to be moment your life is cut short, then you shall face it with your head held up high.
But before that, you have one last thing to do. One last mission to complete.
You begin to walk forward, keeping your eyes locked to the Moon Presence's face all the while. It makes no response to your action aside from the slight tilt of its head, proving once and for all that it doesn't even see you as a threat. You stop five steps away from it, reaching inside your hip pouch before holding it up to the Moon Presence.
The four Umbilical Cords you have gathered in Yharnam lie innocuously on your palm.
The Moon Presence seems almost nonplussed for a second—if it can even make such expression—before plucking the four items out of your hands. It holds them on its own palm for a very few seconds, as if confirming their authenticity, before closing its fist and squeezing. When the fist opens up again, the only thing left is dust, scattering into the wind.
The Moon Presence returns its gaze to you, and to your everloving shock, the next thing it does is letting out a sort of combination between a squawk and a chirp that sounds almost like laughter.
"You continue to exceed expectations, dear child."
"Whoa!" The utterly abrupt manner in which the speaker chose to let its voice be heard, directly inside your head, no less, completely catches you off guard, leading you to jump back while clutching a spot in your chest where you can feel your wildly beating heart. "W-was… was that you?"
"Yes."
"B-but..." You take a deep breath to calm yourself, and almost succeed in doing so before the panic seizes you again. How?! You thought Great Ones' speech is so incomprehensible that just trying to understand it makes people go insane! So how is it able to do this?! Have you gone insane?! Is there some secret you are not privy to?! Is there some strange, eldritch spell at work here—?!
No. Get a hold of yourself, Hunter! You will not get yourself worked up over something like this! After all the things you've seen and faced tonight, being able to talk with one of Great Ones is nothing. Nothing! You are better than this!
You take a deep, deep breath.
"What do you mean?" You finally speak again. You're rather proud to hear that your voice only shakes a little.
The Moon Presence draws itself to its impressive full height and gestured around you with one of its hand. "Countless Hunters have passed through this Dream, and I have granted all of them the same protection. The same boon. And yet, you alone have accomplished what all of them could not."
"…I didn't do much, though," memory of the people you were unable to save once again flashes through your mind. "Had I not been so weak, I wouldn't have failed so many people."
"Your humbleness does you credit, but you couldn't have been more wrong, dear child," one skeletal finger reaches for your chin, and gently pushes you to meet its gaze. "The truth is had you not been so strong, you would have failed every single last one of them. Have faith that your effort has not been in vain."
"…Thank you." You took a long time before finally answering. "For telling me that. I need it."
"I know." The Moon Presence let out that weird combination of squawk and chirp again, althought it is far softer than the previous one.
"Now then," It straightens, and looks towards the sky above. You follow its gaze, only to see the clouds beginning to clear and the moon drawing away. "I would have loved to talk to you more, but as you see, the Dream has achieved its century-long purpose, and is now nearing its conclusion."
"So what happens now?"
"It is entirely up to you, dear child. Do you wish to awaken under the morning sun? Or perhaps, there is anything you wish to ask of me?" It asks. "As long as it is something I can grant, I will do so. Consider it a reward for a job well done."
"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm a bit lost as to what I should do from now on," You shuffle your feet. "You probably already know this, but in my whole life, being a Hunter is the only field I'm even remotely competent at. It's the only thing that has ever given me a purpose. But I'm not very bright, so I don't know what I should do about it." You curse yourself for acting so timidly. "Perhaps you can help?"
"I can."
"Really?"
"Yes. There is another place, another world, invested with Scourge of Beast. Oh, you need not fret. Unlike Yharnam, the Scourge there, it was born of darkness, but it does not have the property of infecting and turning humans or any other living beings into beast." It explains. "However, I must warn you. The moon there, for the lack of better word, is damaged. Thus, as my influence upon reality is directly connected to it, my capacity to help you will be limited. I will be able to send the Hunter's Dream and all that is within it to help you along, but I'm afraid you will no longer enjoy my strongest boon."
"…Which means?"
The Moon Presence seems to sigh in exasperation, no doubt from your inability to connect the dots. You wonder briefly how it can do that, when it doesn't even look like it has a mouth or a nose.
"Which means, you will no longer awaken in the Dream if you die. One life. One chance. That is all you will have." It paused. "Do you still desire this?"
"Yes!" you accept, with no hesitation. Anything is better than going back to the meaningless existence you had before you came to this place and became a Hunter. "I mean, yes, I do."
"Very well." The Moon Presence crouches, grabs you, and brings you close to its face, as the tentacles that sprout from its head circles around you. "Good luck, dear child."
Everything turns white.
•••
"Mm…" You begin to stir, your consciousness tickled into the surface from a soft, serene hum you are very familiar with ever since you've taken the contract with Hunter's Dream.
"Ah, good hunter." The humming stops, making you wish you pretended to be asleep a little longer just so you can enjoy its tranquil melody. "Have you awakened?"
"Yes," you answer, and open your eyes fully to rest your gaze on the ever gentle face of Plain Doll and her sweet smile, whose laps is what you're currently laying your head on. "Good morning."
"As I have told you numerous times, it is always night in the Dream, good hunter," she tilts her head. "So why do you continue to say so?"
"Eh, it's more of a habit than anything else, really. Don't mind it," you sit up, stretch to work out the kinks in your body, before turning around to face the doll and crossing your legs. "So, did anything happen while I was asleep?"
"Yes. After your battle against Gehrman and the subsequent conversation with Moon Presence, the Hunter's Dream was engulfed in bright light. When it receded, I found you slumbering in the flower field, and the moon is partly shattered."
You were bobbing along until the last part of her explanation hits you like a brick. "The moon is—" your eyes widening, you immediately look to the sky. Indeed, the moon seems to be only half-whole, with the other half broken like a cracked biscuit. "Ahh, it did say the moon is damaged."
"It?"
"The Moon Presence."
"Ah, I understand."
"Do you?" you return your eyes to the Doll and lean forward to look at her in the eye. "This means my decision has truly, irrevocably, landed us in a different world. Are you really okay with that?"
"I am." She answers, and once again, smiles at you sweetly. "As long as I can take care of you, I am content."
"I-is that so?" You turned your face away from her, scratching your rapidly heating cheeks. Geez, why does she always do this? Giving you compliments and words that'd make you blush like a maiden. And you don't know if the fact that she's always completely honest makes it better or worse.
"S-so!" you stand up quickly, turning around to hide your undoubtedly red face. "Now that we're here, what do I do?"
You feel a tug on your pants. You look down to see the Messengers trying to communicate with their strange groans and gestures, which you are still unable to comprehend.
"What are they trying to say?" you turn to the Doll.
"The little ones are informing you that as we are in a new world, you are currently unable to utilize Hunter's Lantern to enter the waking world."
"Ah, that's understandable, but then how do I leave? Do I have to whack myself in the head to wake up or something?"
The Messengers begin groaning again, and the Doll, bless her ever helpful self, interprets it for you. "There is a way." She picks herself up. "Gather what you need, good hunter. I will wait for you."
You nod, and make your way into the workshop. Once inside, you open the storage and begin to resupply, filling your hip pouch with the usual—blood vials, bullets, elemental papers, some elixirs—, and an extra Bold Hunter's Mark in case of emergency. You close the chest and are just beginning to walk out the workshop when your eyes caught the sight of Blade of Mercy.
You stand close to it and smile wanly at the memory it brings. After defeating the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst, you had brought her wounded self to the Oedon Chapel to recover, despite her fierce protests. And when you returned after killing Micolash, you found her on the basement, her blade wet with Arianna's and her eldritch infant's blood.
"It had to be done." She said, an almost imperceptible shake in her voice, and no matter how painful it was to see Arianna's lifeless body, you agreed with her.
But that was the last straw. You needed no further proof that there was no longer anywhere safe in Yharnam, and as you both made your way upstairs, you begged her to take everyone in the chapel out of there and to somewhere safe.
She was silent for quite some time, but in the end, she agreed.
When she left the city, driving the carriage filled with the last survivors of Yharnam, Eileen had given her weapon to you in exchange for a simple request.
"End the Nightmare, young hunter."
You did, and that was it.
You shake yourself out of the memory, and give the blade one last look before stepping outside.
You find the Doll, as always, at the bottom of the steps. "I'm ready."
She nods. "Follow me, good hunter."
You tilt your head, but choose to stay quiet and follow the Doll as she walks past the various headstones. Ahead, your destination is immediately clear, because you are one hundred percent sure that cliff was not there before.
"It seems that even if the Lantern is not available, you can still leave the Dream by leaping off this ledge." The Plain Doll gestures forward. "Look for a safe spot in the waking world, and call for the Messengers with a spill of your blood. They will raise a Lantern for you."
You nod. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."
You walk up to the edge and look down. All you can see is the cloud-like mist. There is nothing to indicate what lies before it.
Yet you don't even hesitate to step forward, and fall into the unknown.
Heh, Gehrman had always said you are a reckless sort.
•••
The sensations are almost overwhelming. Each and every exposed skin freezing, the air rushing everywhere, the difficulty of breathing. And when you open your eyes, there's a sight you have always taken for granted, yet begun to crave so much in the course of a single night. The sight of sunrise.
It is so incredible, so breathtaking, it's almost like a miracle.
Technically, that is, if not for the mind-numbing terror you feel when you turn around and realize that all these wonderful things are accompanied by the fact that you are falling.
From a very enormous height.
With no idea how to survive it.
A single whimper escapes your lips.
"…Oh dear…"
And then you begin to scream.
•••
Ultimately, it was the snap decision to drink a Lead Elixir that saved your life, but as you climb out of the crater you made upon impact, you can't help but think that the white glow that enveloped your body right before you hit the ground must have also played a part in your survival. And to tell the truth, you have no idea what it was. It didn't come from the elixir, and you're pretty sure you have no arcane skills or tools that can produce—
Of course, as is per your usual luck, your pondering is cut short when you hear a growl from nearest treeline. You barely have time to brandish the Saw Cleaver before a beast, similar but with a few differences from the first creature you faced as a Hunter, pounces on you.
Your body still feels a bit boneless from that fall, but you manage to take a side step and bring your weapon down on the enemy's torso as it passes you, cleaving it in two with one hit.
"That was rather anticlimactic…" you mutter quietly as you inspect the dead beast, noting the bone mask and protrusions on its limbs. You are just about to try and rip the mask off for further inspection when a set of growls makes you look up and see that, apparently, it wasn't alone, as six more beasts come out of the treeline where the first one appeared from, their desire to rip you apart clear from their stances and snarls.
They don't waste any time rounding on you.
Not half a minute later, the battle is finished. Once again, you are a bit confused. These things you fought are, for the lack of better word, weak. Well, not weak per se, but with how each of them can be dispatched with a single attack and their fairly predictable movement, they are definitely weaker in comparison to the similar Scourge Beast of Yharnam. Not just that, killing them nets you only a very small amount of Echoes, even smaller than the regular infected Yharnamites.
That is to be expected, though. After all, Echoes are but left behind memories found in blood, and Moon Presence did tell you that the Scourge of Beast in this world was born of pure darkness. Therefore, it's understandable that their blood doesn't contain much memory. Only a little more than animals, in that regard.
Although animals certainly don't go and turn into black smoke-like substance after their demise.
A rustling sound catches your attention, you notice that more has arrived. Surrounding you, a dozen in each direction.
"Oh dear."
You strap the Saw Cleaver back to its place. These creatures, while weaker than what you're used to, they are surely not to be underestimated. After all, what they lack in strength, they make up in number.
It's just your luck that you bring a weapon capable of dealing with a large crowd.
"In that case," In one smooth movement, you draw and slam the Burial Blade into its counterpart strapped on your back, grabbing the shaft as it unfolds, Gehrman's Echoes helping you all the way. "For this Brandon Reinhardt…"
"The Hunt begins again."
•••
A/N: 'Tis but an experiment, but do tell me your thoughts on it.