Chapter 1359 A Dream

The events that followed were nothing short of spectacular to Michael.

There was no fistfight. No clash of magic. No dazzling displays of light exploding in all directions.

This was the first time since Michael had awakened that he felt he was witnessing a true supernatural battle. Although neither fists nor magic were involved, a battle between two individuals separated by many light-years was indeed taking place.

This was a battle of fate!

The moment Michael appeared, as expected, Yū Meng immediately attacked him.

Fighting through the manipulation of fate was a strange concept, and the battle itself was even stranger.

The conditions for victory were simple.

One had to outmaneuver the other through the manipulation of fate while paying the lowest possible price. Whoever emerged victorious might obtain what they desired, but the loser would suffer consequences ranging from the loss of memories of certain events to a reduction in lifespan, damage to their foundation, loss of power, and many other possibilities.

If the defeat was severe enough, the loser could even die.

However, such an outcome was obviously impossible in the current confrontation between Michael and Yū Meng.

Just as Jester had said, Yū Meng's control and application of fate were indeed lacking. She possessed no profound techniques and relied solely on her current prowess and ample experience with using her 'sixth sense.' However, her foundation was truly terrifying, making the confrontation surprisingly balanced.

The battlefield was a dark space. There was no sky, no ground, and no distinguishable boundary. Countless bubbles floated around Michael. Some were no larger than grains of sand, while others were enormous, resembling entire worlds suspended in the darkness.

Within these bubbles were scenes.

Memories.

Michael could recognize some of them as his own. There were also memories that obviously belonged to Yū Meng. However, the majority of the bubbles contained things completely unrelated to either of them.

Some depicted ordinary people living their daily lives. Others showed unfamiliar civilizations, strange creatures, and events that Michael had never witnessed.

He didn't understand where all these memories had come from. Nevertheless, he could vaguely sense that they weren't merely illusions.

Each bubble represented something that had happened, something that might happen, or something that could have happened under different circumstances. And within this strange space, all of them were connected by fate.

Michael stood silently among them. There was no sign of Yū Meng's physical body, but he could clearly sense her presence somewhere within the darkness. Neither of them exchanged a single word.

The battle had already begun.

Although Michael had prepared himself for an attack the moment he entered this space, Yū Meng was still the first to make a move. One of the bubbles floating near him suddenly trembled.

Before Michael could examine it, the surrounding darkness distorted. His vision changed.

When Michael regained his senses, he found himself sitting on a hospital bed.

"…"

He blinked in confusion. The room was familiar. White walls, a small table beside the bed, medical equipment, and the faint smell of disinfectant lingering in the air.

After a moment, Michael recognized the place.

This is…

It was one of the hospitals he had visited during his time on Earth. More specifically, it was one of the many hospital rooms he had occupied while struggling with his illness.

Just as Michael recognized his surroundings, a strange dizziness suddenly overwhelmed him. His thoughts became muddled.

The memories of the dark space, the floating bubbles, and the battle he had been preparing to fight began to fade.

For several seconds, Michael simply stared at the ceiling. He felt as though he had just awakened from an unusually long and complicated dream.

A dream involving strange powers, another world, and countless people he had never met. Yet the more he tried to recall those events, the less sense they made.

"…"

Michael rubbed his forehead.

What a strange dream.

One name, however, continued to linger in his mind.

"Jester?"

He muttered the word aloud.

"Who is Jester?"

The name felt strangely familiar. He was certain that it belonged to someone important, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember who that person was.

At that moment, the door opened.

Creak.

A female doctor entered the room. She was a beautiful woman with long black hair and a curvy figure. She wore a white coat and smiled gently as she approached Michael's bed.

"Oh? You're awake."

Michael turned toward her. The doctor pulled a chair closer and sat down beside him.

"How are you feeling?"

"…Fine, I suppose."

The woman nodded.

"By the way, I heard you mention someone just now."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Who is Jester?"

Michael frowned.

"Jester…"

He repeated the name before shaking his head.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Yeah. I just feel like I know someone with that name."

The doctor studied him briefly. Then she smiled.

"Perhaps you were dreaming."

"Maybe."

Michael didn't argue. After all, that was the only explanation he could think of.

The doctor didn't pursue the matter further. Instead, she adjusted her posture and looked at him with a somewhat sympathetic expression.

"There's something I need to discuss with you."

"…"

Michael looked at her.

"Is it about my condition?"

"Yes."

The doctor nodded slowly.

"We've received your latest medical report."

"Unfortunately, the results aren't good."

Michael remained silent.

The woman continued.

"Your illness has progressed to an advanced stage. At this point, the damage to your body is already too severe."

She sighed softly.

"I'm afraid recovery is no longer possible."

"…"

Michael stared at her. He didn't feel particularly surprised. He had heard similar statements many times throughout his years of treatment. The only difference was that this time, the doctor appeared to be speaking with greater certainty.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

The woman lowered her voice.

"I know you've suffered for many years."

Her expression softened.

"I can only imagine how exhausting all of this must have been for you."

Michael said nothing.

"Sometimes, continuing to endure that kind of suffering isn't necessarily the best choice."