CHAPTER 39: NIGHTMARES AND ECHOES
POV: Alen
Three weeks without proper sleep had transformed Alen's appearance into something that made mirrors feel like accusation rather than reflection. Dark circles shadowed eyes that carried weight of accumulated nightmares while trembling hands betrayed nervous system damage from repeated exposure to harvested villain memories.
Greta's centuries of systematic cruelty haunted every attempt at rest—children tortured for ritualistic pleasure, innocents sacrificed to feed dimensional hunger, screaming faces that belonged to people who'd died in agony centuries before his birth. The ancient vampire's memories had embedded themselves in enhanced consciousness like psychological malware.
"Every time I close my eyes, I see her victims. Feel their terror, experience their pain from predator's perspective. Greta's memories are permanent residents now, whispering suggestions that make compassion feel like weakness."
Hope noticed deterioration despite enhanced attempts at concealment, tribrid senses detecting damage that normal human observation might miss. "You look terrible. When did you last sleep properly?"
"Define properly," Alen replied, avoiding direct answer while consciousness catalogued latest nightmare details that made rest feel impossible.
"More than two hours without screaming." Her voice carried concern that transcended casual worry, protective instincts responding to evidence that cosmic responsibility was destroying person she loved.
"She's watching me fall apart in real time. Harvest-induced trauma is becoming visible to everyone, making secrecy increasingly difficult while psychological damage accumulates beyond manageable levels."
"I'm fine," he lied, words emerging automatically despite obvious contradiction with observable reality.
Hope's expression shifted toward determination that suggested intervention was no longer optional. "You're seeing Emma. Today. Non-negotiable."
POV: Alen
That night brought worst nightmare yet—Greta's perspective on particularly brutal torture session, child victim whose screams seemed to echo across centuries while enhanced consciousness experienced predator's pleasure in methodical violence. In sleep, magical control slipped beyond conscious limitation.
He began unconsciously siphoning magic from surroundings, enhanced abilities operating according to nightmare logic rather than rational control. Hope, sleeping beside him due to Hollow proximity requirements, woke to sensation of her own magic being drained violently.
"Tribrid power flowing out of me like blood from severed artery. What's happening? Alen's unconscious but magic is moving from me to him through contact we maintain for Hollow suppression."
Hollow surged in response to magical disruption, ancient evil responding to vulnerability while Hope gasped from pain that transcended normal supernatural experience. "Alen! Wake up!"
She shook him with tribrid strength while consciousness reeled from magical drainage that threatened to leave her defenseless against Hollow influence. "WAKE UP!"
Alen jolted conscious with horror crystallizing around recognition of what unconscious abilities had attempted. "Did I hurt you?"
"Almost." Hope's voice carried fear that she rarely displayed, vulnerability that made cosmic responsibility feel like personal betrayal. "What's happening to you?"
"I nearly drained Hope unconsciously. Lost control during nightmare and attacked person I love most through supernatural abilities operating beyond rational limitation. The harvests are changing me in ways I don't understand, making me dangerous even to people I'm supposed to protect."
POV: Alen
Emma's office felt like clinical sanctuary where truth could be spoken without supernatural complications, professional environment that provided framework for addressing psychological damage that exceeded normal therapeutic scope.
"You're experiencing secondhand trauma from the souls you've absorbed," Emma diagnosed after detailed assessment that revealed extent of psychological damage. "Their victims' pain is embedding in your psyche through magical connection that standard therapy can't address."
"Can you fix it?" Alen asked, desperate for solution that wouldn't require abandoning cosmic responsibility.
"Not without addressing the source—you need to stop harvesting souls." Emma's voice carried professional certainty that made cosmic obligations feel like personal choice rather than unavoidable necessity.
"She doesn't understand cosmic responsibility. Thinks soul harvesting is optional activity rather than essential function that serves greater purpose. How can I explain resurrection coins without revealing transmigration knowledge that Entity's curse prevents discussing?"
"I can't stop. People need those coins for emergencies that can't be prevented through conventional means."
"Then you need better coping mechanisms before you hurt someone or yourself through psychological damage that's accumulating beyond sustainable levels." Emma's expression mixed professional concern with personal worry. "Alen, you're developing complex PTSD compounded by magical psychic assault. This isn't sustainable."
"Professional diagnosis that confirms what I already know—harvest-induced trauma is destroying psychological foundation while cosmic responsibility demands continued exposure to forces that exceed human comprehension."
POV: Alen
Hope's ultimatum came during evening walk that should have provided romantic normalcy but instead became confrontation about sustainability of cosmic responsibility that was destroying person she loved.
"I support your mission," she began with voice that carried accumulated worry. "But if you die from this—mentally or physically—the coins become useless. Take a break. Heal."
"There's always another villain, another threat, another person who might need saving through resurrection magic that only harvested souls can provide." Alen's response emerged automatically, cosmic responsibility making personal wellbeing feel selfish.
"And there's only one you." Hope stopped walking to face him directly, tribrid authority mixing with desperate love. "I almost lost you to yourself last night. Don't make me choose between supporting your mission and saving your life."
"She's right. I'm destroying myself through cosmic responsibility that demands sacrifice I can't sustain indefinitely. But stopping means abandoning family members who might need resurrection coins, future emergencies that cosmic knowledge reveals but Entity's curse prevents addressing directly."
"Hope is asking me to prioritize personal health over cosmic obligation. But what if someone dies who could have been saved? What if emergency arises that requires resurrection coin I didn't harvest because psychological comfort seemed more important than cosmic responsibility?"
"The Entity chose me as conduit for stories that require protagonist willing to make impossible choices. Maybe destroying myself through necessary darkness is part of cosmic narrative I can't escape."
Recognition crystallized that Hope was offering anchor point—love that could provide stability during psychological storm, relationship that made cosmic responsibility bearable rather than purely destructive force.
"Okay," he said finally. "I'll pause harvesting. Focus on recovery. Try to heal damage that's accumulated."
Relief transformed Hope's expression while Hollow remained dormant, proximity bond functioning properly despite relationship complications that made cosmic responsibility more complex.
"Temporary pause rather than permanent abandonment. Time to develop coping mechanisms that allow continued harvesting without complete psychological destruction. Four more coins needed to complete entity's mysterious purpose—cosmic chess game that requires functional conduit rather than broken weapon."
That night, Alen slept in separate room for Hope's safety while nightmares continued unabated. Greta's memories whispered through enhanced consciousness, permanent residents that made rest feel like renewed torture.
"Four coins," he whispered to darkness that offered no comfort. "Just need four more. Then I can stop."
But cosmic responsibility suggested otherwise—Entity's chess game was far from complete, and greater trials awaited conduit whose existence asked questions reality must answer.
The pause was necessity, not conclusion. Recovery was tactical retreat, not strategic victory.
Tomorrow would bring therapy, healing attempts, research into coping mechanisms that could allow resumed harvesting without complete psychological destruction.
The hunt would continue, but sustainability required foundation that could bear weight of cosmic obligation without destroying person who carried burden willingly.
Hope provided anchor. Research partnership with Lily offered practical support. Stefan's wisdom suggested survival was possible despite darkness accumulated.
For now, that was enough to continue cosmic narrative whose conclusion remained hidden beyond Entity's inscrutable purpose.
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