"That state you were in just now... it was 'Kindling Flames,' wasn't it?"
"It's formidable, truly. To think you could burst forth with such terrifying power in an instant. Even considering the higher ceiling of a virtual world where you don't have to worry about burning through your actual lifespan, it's still staggering."
The projection of Dream Weaver—at least, the version the world knew—shook her head in quiet wonder.
"If I had used that technique even once during the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, I doubt I'd be haunted by the 'Arc Curse' now."
"I will be the one to end that curse," Dream Weaver replied, her words clipped and certain.
Her aggressive use of Kindling Flames wasn't born from the safety of a simulation; it was because she had already resolved to endure the injury in the real world that she dared to practice it here.
"Is that so... with resolve like that, perhaps you really can win the Arc," the projection mused. "But is it truly worth it?"
"If you're going to lecture me about 'failing the audience's expectations' again, I'm leaving," Dream Weaver cut in. She placed her finger back on the screen, looking ready to log out at any second.
She had finally decided to do something for herself for once.
She wasn't about to give up because of a guilt trip. Besides, she had already seen how that path ended.
This script's version of Dream Weaver losing the Arc time and again, coupled with the projection's recent defeat, was all the reminder she needed.
"That's not what I was going to say," the projection clarified. "I just wonder... you've worked so hard to forge bonds with all those people in this world, only to make them suffer through a long period of grief for the sake of a victory. Is that really right?"
"Do you remember the futures of those other worlds you returned to after finishing your script missions?"
Dream Weaver's finger faltered. She didn't close the menu, but she didn't press the exit button either.
"Every person who loves you has to watch you collapse on the track with their own eyes. They have to carry that sorrow through countless late nights. I know the ultimate ending isn't bad, but how much time passes between your fall and that 'happy ending'? Half a year? A year? Two? Imagine how they feel during that gap."
The projection's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "And besides, you know better than anyone the agonizing anxiety of fearing a loved one might leave at any moment, don't you?"
The sheer weight of the information behind those words forced Dream Weaver to close the interface.
This wasn't something a mere projection of the world-class Uma Musume "Dream Weaver" should know.
"Otherwise," the projection continued, "you wouldn't have fought so hard to enter these script worlds just to gather enough points for the Hope Gem."
"How do you know about that...?"
"I told you, I am a projection. A projection of the Dream Weaver from this world. You must have suspected it by now—this world is built upon the blueprint of reality."
"In a sense, this is one of the possible futures the real world might take. And I am the projection of that future Dream Weaver."
Dream Weaver clenched her fists tight, then slowly forced herself to relax. She let out a long, weary sigh.
"An Uma Musume with only B-Rank Wit shouldn't be this smart."
"Are you really still hung up on that? I recall..." The projection claiming to be her future self trailed off, then clapped her hands together with an enlightened "Oh!"
"It's Sakura Bakushin O, isn't it? You can't stand the fact that your test scores are lower than hers—someone you consider a total airhead."
"Something like that," Dream Weaver muttered, her face heating up. At this point, she truly started to believe this projection was her future self.
"You really don't need to stress over it." The future projection chuckled and patted her shoulder.
Dream Weaver snapped her head up. "What do you mean? Do I finally break past my Wit limit? Do I finally beat her in a test?!"
"Neither."
"It's just that once your relationship evolves, you naturally stop caring about those things. After all..."
Just as Dream Weaver leaned in, ears perked, the voice cut off. The future projection covered her mouth as if she'd nearly let a secret slip, then winked.
"I shouldn't give you any more spoilers."
"So we become such good friends that I stop caring? But we're already on good terms... honestly, it sounds like I just give up and call a truce because there's no other way out," Dream Weaver said with a resigned sigh. "So, you drop all this heavy info just to tell me not to worry about my stats?"
"Of course not! Besides, you're the one who brought it up!" The projection shrugged with a wry smile. She paused for a moment, letting the subject settle before continuing.
"What I want to talk about is the cost. Not just yours, but the cost paid by those around you. You've grown used to the logic of 'trading pain for power,' but the pain being paid is far more than just your own share."
"Sometimes you wonder why they look at you with such heavy eyes, don't you? But have you ever thought about how much grief they carried while you were unconscious in those various worlds? Or how desperately they wanted to never let you go when you finally woke up?"
The projection looked down, her voice low.
"They are afraid."
"Afraid of losing you again. Afraid of having to endure that sorrow one more time. You, who spent every day worrying about your mother in the past—you of all people should understand that feeling."
Dream Weaver fell silent.
She had sensed it, deep down, but hearing the projection lay it out so clearly forced her to face the logic she'd been avoiding.
After a long silence, she finally spoke.
"But I still don't want to lose. That feeling of powerlessness, of being unable to catch up no matter what... the feeling of having victory within your grasp but being forced to let it go because you're worried about someone else... I don't want to experience that again."
"I want to win."
"Whether it's the Arc or any other race, if victory is right there, I don't want to throw it away. If pain is the price for victory, then I—"
"But running shouldn't be like that for an Uma Musume, should it?" her future self interrupted gently.
"There are so many Uma Musume in this world heading to the tracks. Every day at Tracen Academy, you see them training their hearts out. The thing they are chasing... it shouldn't be so painful."
"Beyond the competitive instinct carved into our nature and the yearning for the turf, there must be something else—something that keeps them going even when they're drenched in sweat and exhausted."
"But the winner—"
"Yes, there is only one winner," the projection cut her off again. "But do you really need to drag yourself and everyone around you into an abyss of suffering for it?"
"If you lose a race, you should be able to have a good cry, pick yourself up, and try harder next time. That's how it should be, right?"
Dream Weaver remained silent for a while. Finally, she shook her head.
"You've grown weak. That's why you keep losing the Arc in your future."
The projection didn't argue. In the silent stare-down that followed, she was the first to yield with a bitter smile.
"Perhaps you're right. But as a projection of this specific path, I still wanted to tell you what the Dream Weaver of this future thinks. As for right or wrong... well, I'm just one possibility. Your future is yours to decide."
It was a fair point, so Dream Weaver simply nodded, acknowledging the words.
Since they had laid their cards on the table and defined their differing philosophies, there wasn't much left to say. Dream Weaver opened the exit menu once more.
"Anything else?" she asked. She wasn't sure how this hidden mission worked; this might be her only chance to ever see this version of herself.
"Actually, yes."
The projection reached up and unpinned a star-shaped ornament from her chest, tossing it to Dream Weaver. Dream Weaver caught it mid-air, looking at it with confusion.
In her memory, this was just a standard decoration on her racing silks. Why give her this? And besides, this was a virtual space—she wouldn't be able to take it with her, would she?
Seeing her confusion, the projection smiled. "It's a system reward. Remember? The one that was supposed to appear after the mission."
Everything had happened so fast that Dream Weaver had forgotten. At the projection's reminder, she looked down at the star in her hand. A translucent blue screen flickered into existence.
--+--
[Star of Stars]
[Description: The star that weaves dreams—the very meaning of the name held by the Uma Musume who owns it.
In the future of a certain world, she lived up to her name, never ceasing for a moment to weave dreams for those who loved her.
Because of her, countless people found passion and dreams on the track.
Because of her, countless Uma Musume stepped onto the turf.
Yet, she herself never seemed to try weaving a dream for her own sake.
Only when the hands that wove those dreams began to show the marks of time did she realize she was about to lose to the years. A star that seems to contain the lingering regrets of an Uma Musume.]
[Note: "I will bring victory to everyone!" — Shouted the girl with the red ribbon to the stands, never once thinking of bringing victory to herself.]
--+--
"Star of Stars... I'll take it."
Like the rewards from previous powerful foes, this was an item that could be stored in the system.
However, unlike others that provided stat boosts, this one seemed to have no effect at all. The only other non-functional item she had was the Glass Wind Chime she got when she saved Mejiro Ardan.
But even the chime's description mentioned it could "soothe a stressed mind." This star truly seemed useless.
Still, Dream Weaver didn't care about the stats. She was strong enough as it was. What lingered in her mind was the specific future this item represented.
She stowed the item in her inventory and looked back at her future self. "I'm really leaving now." She paused. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"
"Nothing left. Though, if you're that desperate to hear me talk, I could keep lecturing you." The projection shrugged, then spoke before Dream Weaver could object.
"You've grown used to trading pain for power. To you, it feels like the only way. But just because 'it has always been this way,' does that make it right?"
Dream Weaver twitched an eyebrow, exasperated. "I knew I shouldn't have asked. Instead of all this philosophy, you could have just given me some useful spoilers. Like my future relationship with T.M. Opera O and the others! Isn't that the most valuable thing you could offer as my future self?"
The projection gave a mischievous grin and winked. "Those things only have meaning if you experience them yourself. Anxiety is part of being a young girl, after all. All I can say is... good luck."
She raised a hand in a mock cheering gesture. Dream Weaver could see right through it—the projection just wanted to watch the chaos unfold.
It was a classic trope: a future protagonist smiling at the thought of their past self having to go through the wringer.
"Isn't there a fast-forward button to just skip the drama and see the ending?" Dream Weaver sighed, her finger hovering over the exit button.
"In all seriousness, no more jokes or lectures." Seeing that she was truly departing, the projection dropped the smirk and looked at her with total sincerity.
"The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe... give it your all."
"I don't need you to tell me that. I'm going to win!"
Dream Weaver pressed the button, waving back at her future self as she shouted.
In the final second before she vanished, she saw the projection's lips move, as if saying one last thing.
But before she could decipher the words, the blinding white light of the logout sequence consumed her vision.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.