The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 54: The Eternal Bond

’....That’s me? No, he only ’looks’ like me...’ Atlas thought, his mind reeling in confusion.

It was already clear to him what the Lord of Dreams was doing—forcing him to relive moments that weren’t his own but felt disturbingly familiar. In the end, it all tied back to the crimson demon’s cryptic words before his death. Words about being a GUIDE. free𝑤ebnovel.com

’I ain’t no fucking GUIDE. I don’t remember this nonsense in the game either. Haa... FUCK!!!’ Atlas cursed inwardly, his thoughts spiraling out of control.

From a third-person perspective, the world shifted once more. Now, they stood amidst scenes of an epic journey—a mature-looking Atlas traveling alongside a younger Dracula. Their bond seemed forged through fire and blood, each step laden with meaning far beyond mere adventure.

{{{You trusted me...}}} Dracula’s voice softened, almost tender. {{{And I broke that trust so... many... times.}}}

In one memory, during their travels, dragons descended upon them like storms from the heavens. Young Dracula fled, leaving Atlas behind to face certain death—but when Atlas survived against impossible odds, he forgave him without hesitation.

{{{You told me... I was still naive. And I was just scared. Nothing more...}}}

Another scene unfolded where jealousy consumed Dracula. He watched Atlas rise to unparalleled heights, becoming the first SSS-rank adventurer in history. His brilliance blinded those around him, including Dracula, who sought to sabotage Atlas’s achievements. Yet again, Atlas discovered the betrayal—and forgave him.

{{{You shined so bright that I became the darkness. And because of that darkness, I tried sabotaging your life’s work. But... you found out... and again... forgave me.}}}

War raged across kingdoms and empires next. At some point, Dracula chose sides opposite Atlas, waging battles against the very ideals they had built together. When Atlas crushed his kingdom, obliterating everything Dracula held dear, forgiveness came yet again. For years afterward, Atlas stayed by his side, healing wounds both physical and emotional.

{{{In that moment, I knew. I was in the wrong. I was always in the wrong. Your heart and ego were so vast, they dwarfed mine. So much so that I accepted it. I accepted ’you’. My first and final friend.}}}

Time flowed on, their friendship flourishing into something greater than either could have imagined. Together, they advanced forward, gathering others to join their cause. They created, maintained, and destroyed—not out of malice, but necessity. World Laws were invented to bring true peace to the world, harmony born from chaos.

But then...

{{{But...}}} Dracula’s tone turned solemn, the vibrant world around them crumbling into darkness. The sky bled red as stars fell like tears, crashing down and annihilating everything they had built. Like a virus, destruction spread unchecked, consuming lives and legacies alike.

{{{...those fucking cunts came.}}}

The heavens burned crimson as celestial bodies plummeted, erasing centuries of effort in mere moments. Wrathful vengeance followed, a holy war waged against demons lasting for eons. Generation after generation slaughtered, civilizations reduced to ash.

{{{I was ready to die by your side in that war... but you...}}}

Suddenly, darkness engulfed them once more. Dracula loomed above, fury etched into every line of his ancient face. Fangs gleamed as he seized Atlas by the neck, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.

{{{...I can’t handle it any longer. Control this burning rage. I will have to... kill you now.}}}

Atlas felt the grip tighten around his throat, his breath stolen away piece by agonizing piece. He wanted to fight back, to scream, to resist—but paralysis held him captive. His body quivered beneath the weight of inevitability, unable to act even as his vision dimmed.

Darker. Darker. DARKER.

Until...

{{{No matter how many times you reincarnate, I will be there, ATLAS. Always. Death as my blade. I will wait for you once more... and grieve for another millennium.}}}

Crack!

Dracula didn’t gaze at Atlas as he delivered the final blow. He looked down instead, his crimson eyes betraying no emotion as he let go of the boy’s limp body. It plummeted like a dead carcass into the void below.

The memories of their shared past flared once more before fading away entirely—their adventures, betrayals, forgiveness, and eventual destruction. The dream bubble they had been in disintegrated slowly, leaving behind only an empty space amidst the endless sea of dreams.

Each bubble around them pulsed with its own light, glowing faintly against the oppressive darkness. Atlas’s lifeless form lay there where his bubble should have been—a stark reminder of what had just transpired. But even though the bubble vanished, the crimson crack remained, lingering like a stain on reality itself.

{{{....Your fondness towards demons will always astound me, my friend.}}} Dracula muttered under his breath, pinching the edges of the crack together until it sealed shut.

It was done. The rupture was fixed. His realm healed, laws restored to their natural order. Peace hummed softly through the dreamscape again—a symphony of anticipation and tranquility that resonated deep within him. Yet, despite himself, his breath hitched when he turned back to Atlas’s corpse. Unease crawled beneath his skin, gnawing at him relentlessly.

Thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind. _Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him so soon._ _Maybe I should’ve talked more. Negotiated. Maybe this time, he could’ve changed._ Dracula wanted to believe in these possibilities because hope was something he himself had taught Atlas. Hope had been the cornerstone of their bond once upon a time. But...

He gazed out across his domain. Countless bubbles floated serenely, each one housing a fragment of someone’s dreams or desires. Their collective hum filled the air—a sound of peace, order, and quiet yearning. This was exactly what Atlas had helped build centuries ago. And now, Dracula vowed to protect it—not for himself, but for the memory of their creation.

{{{This is what you always wanted. And I will keep it so.}}} He whispered solemnly, glancing back at the still figure lying prone on the stone floor.

They were deep within the sea of dreams, far from the brighter realms where most bubbles congregated. Here, light came sparingly, emanating solely from the rare glowing orbs scattered throughout the dark valley. Each bubble carried whispers of value, stories worth preserving, lives worth remembering.

Dracula floated closer to the corpse, sitting beside it silently. His hands rested lightly on the jagged rocks surrounding them.

{{{I will protect it because we built it together. Even though you betrayed me, used me for centuries... this place will forever remain a cherished memory etched into eternity.}}}

With a snap of his fingers, dozens of bubbles drifted toward him—each containing fragments of those who mattered most to Atlas in his new incarnation. Sansa, Henry, Lara, Kury, Claire, Eli—all present except one glaring absence.

{{{...I want to see you as an innocent child again—but your mother’s perspective is missing. No, her dreaming bubble is gone entirely. Is she dead? Hmmm... I’ll need to speak with Death about this later.}}} He mused aloud, his tone tinged with curiosity rather than concern.

Like flipping through episodes of an addictive series, Dracula delved into Atlas’s recent actions. Every decision, every chaotic moment played out before him. Lustful escapades, calculated betrayals, reckless gambles—they all unfolded like Chapters in a novel written by fate itself.

{{{....Still the same old, same old...}}} He murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched scenes from the past flicker vividly across his vision.

But then, something caught his attention—a discrepancy buried within the timeline.

{{{You suddenly grew stronger after surviving that poison attack... Wait, something isn’t adding up here.}}} He stood abruptly, rewinding the memory stream to examine it closely.

Atlas waking from near-death, Sansa’s frantic prayers echoing in the background. From that point onward, his behavior shifted dramatically—more calculating, more ruthless, less forgiving.

{{{...Your personality completely changed after this moment.}}} Dracula narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, piecing together fragments of truth hidden beneath layers of deception. But he quickly shook his head, forcing himself to close off the floodgate of obsessive thoughts threatening to consume him once more.

{{{...I have to stop. I have to stop obsessing over him. Haven’t I learned anything?!}}} He chastised himself harshly, clenching his fists tightly. {{{What’s done is done. I still have his real body. Now I must show everyone that he has returned—and that justice has already been served.}}}

Resolute yet burdened by lingering sadness, Dracula turned back toward Atlas’s corpse. However, what awaited him shattered whatever semblance of calm he had managed to muster.

{{{YOU!!!}}}

There, dragging his broken half form toward Atlas’s lifeless body, was the crimson demon. Barely conscious, his claws scraping desperately against Atlas’s bare chest. A sigil burned brightly beneath his trembling hands—a magic circle pulsating with unholy energy. The incantation spilled forth in milliseconds, whispered urgently under his dying breath.

".....Use my true name and soul, Azezal Marcus Golgotha, to make the GUIDE’S body the Medium." He voiced, His middle finger raised defiantly in Dracula’s direction even as the last remnants of his life force poured into the spell.

"FUCK. YOU!"

{{{DON’T!}}}