Everyone's instincts seemed to converge on the same answer.
A shared dream. Ultraman fighting monsters. Turning into light. A crystal lake.
So many familiar elements—this had to be Orga's doing!
He was calling to them, gathering everyone's strength to strike down evil!
That night, they all became light together.
Most people's dreams followed similar scenes, but since dreams blur upon waking, no one remembered exactly the same things—though children, as always, remembered more than adults.
The innocent kids pieced together their memories after waking and realized in amazement and excitement that they'd just watched half an episode of Ultraman Gaia—the unreleased, uncut version.
Even in their dreams, Orga hadn't rested—still fighting for humanity's bright future.
What a gentle guy.
Their devotion rose to a whole new level!
---
"Orga… Orga…"
"Please open your eyes."
"We're waiting for you."
A dream within a dream, a dreamer's dream inside another dream.
Dreams scattered like the wind blowing away old memories.
Even in dreams, Barry was one of those rare people who could easily stay self-aware—but this time, he fell soundly asleep inside his own dream, drifting into a beautiful one.
In it, he returned to Hell—his strength unmatched, his dominance absolute. He humiliated the demons there, beating them all to their knees. Even Satan himself backed away from his throne, trembling, begging Barry to take the crown.
Only the Great Demon King Barry was fit to rule Hell. Satan admitted he was just a useless old fool who should've stepped down long ago.
But just when Barry was basking in his triumph, Heaven's angels invaded Hell—and even God Himself descended.
God stretched out His divine hand, inviting Barry to join forces for a grand cause.
But a real man doesn't bow to anyone under Heaven or above it!
Barry refused, and the two clashed—three hundred rounds of divine combat, shaking Heaven and Earth until even the cosmic laws faded away...
"Fight!"
The roar burst from his chest like thunder.
Barry jolted awake from the dream within the dream.
Ah—so powerful! Even God himself would have a hard time keeping up with me!
One second he was still basking in that heroic dream—
The next, he snapped fully awake.
In front of him stood a crowd of smiling people—children, teens, and adults alike.
They were all following behind an elderly nun dressed in white—Amanda Krueger.
Amanda was Freddy Krueger's birth mother. After Freddy was arrested for murdering the children on Elm Street, she hanged herself, her soul unable to find peace ever since.
But after Freddy had been utterly destroyed by Barry, Amanda had sensed her son's disappearance.
For the sake of the souls Freddy had tormented, she came seeking Barry in his dream.
"Orga, you're awake," Sister Amanda said gently. Her face showed no trace of anger or hatred.
"Huh? What did you just call me? And who are you supposed to be?" Barry blinked, still disoriented from the double-layered dream and now finding an entire crowd inside his dreamscape. Confusion was natural.
"Orga—that's the name others have spoken of you by," Amanda explained calmly. "Those who've received your protection call you that. I wished to meet you. I am Amanda Krueger, Freddy's mother, and I've come here as a nun—to ask a favor of you."
Ah. So it was that big whale's fault for leaking his name.
"Oh? So, Sister Amanda, what brings you here? If you're not here for revenge, I suppose we can chat for a bit."
Barry had a rough guess—she must have come for the people standing behind her.
"Mr. Orga, you are a noble soul—but you may have overlooked something."
"The spirits behind me are the poor souls still trapped in this dream. And since you are its master… I beg you, please, set them free."
Amanda spoke with sincere reverence, tracing a cross over her chest as she whispered, "Amen."
Wait—
They're still here?
Oh. Probably because I forgot to unlock the gate.
Right, that makes sense.
Everything clicked for Barry in an instant.
During that final battle with Freddy—well, that one-sided beatdown—the display of overwhelming power had left these slaughtered souls utterly stunned.
Whoa, they must've thought. This guy's even scarier than Freddy!
They hadn't dared disturb Barry's dreams, too scared to even show themselves—
Until Sister Amanda arrived.
"Go on, go on," Barry said impatiently, waving his hand. He unsealed the bindings of the dream and let them all go free.
"Thank you for your mercy. May the Lord bless you," Sister Amanda said, crossing herself once more.
From children to adults, each soul thanked Barry sincerely before fading from the dream, moving toward the realm of reincarnation.
Barry sighed. "Even in my dreams, I'm out here doing good deeds. I'm too nice for my own good."
He could've kept those souls, absorbed them, fed on their fear and energy day and night—just like Freddy did. That would've made him grow stronger, fast.
But Barry had his principles. His conscience wouldn't allow it.
So, with no reason to keep them, he let them go.
And really, gratitude and smiles are rewards of their own, aren't they?
Sometimes, life just needs a little positivity.
No regret—just quiet satisfaction.
Barry actually enjoyed seeing great compassion in the world—especially when he was the one who inspired it.
Goodness. Such pure, radiant goodness!
One by one, they left. The dream grew empty again. Only Sister Amanda remained.
She stepped closer, respectfully removing the cross from her neck. "Orga, this is both my token of gratitude and the collective thanks of the children of Elm Street. Please, accept it."
Before Barry could even react, the cross floated gently into his palm.
Huh? What's this about now?
He stared down at the cross, about to ask a question—
But Sister Amanda had already vanished without a trace.
"Thanks? Gratitude?"
He studied the cross glowing faintly with a warm light. This wasn't some cheap trinket—it pulsed with a special power.
Barry's instincts told him it wasn't dangerous. Just… a gift. A unique one, but harmless.
Whether to accept it or not—that was entirely up to him.
No one was forcing his hand.
Should I try it on?
He licked his lips, hesitated a moment, then finally slipped the cross around his neck.
Silently, warmth washed over him—like sinking into a perfectly hot bath. Comfort and peace filled every inch of his body.
His fatigue and stray thoughts melted away, leaving his mind and spirit perfectly clear.
For a fleeting moment, he saw light—soft, beautiful light, the light of happiness itself.
And faintly, he thought he saw delicate, translucent butterflies of light dancing around him.
Fluttering gently.
Was this… a dream?