Timeless Assassin-Chapter 158: Cold Sweats

(Ghost Sleep — Leo's Perspective)

The cold, colorless fog of the ghost sleep surrounded Leo once more as he floated aimlessly within the fragmented memory of his bloodline.

Yet unlike previous visions, this one did not begin with the usual chaos or violence.

Instead, it opened with the rhythmic pounding of footsteps echoing down a dimly lit concrete corridor, its paintless walls grainy and cracking as the overhead lights flickered inconsistently.

Leo hovered silently above the ground, watching as a woman sprinted through the narrow hall, wondering for a moment how this was his first vision with a female ancestor.

Her long dark hair trailed behind her, tangled and unkempt, while her breathing came heavy and desperate.

She wasn't armored like a warrior — instead, she wore a simple, blood-stained denim jacket, the emblem on its shoulder long faded.

Yet, despite the urgency, it was her face that stirred something within Leo.

Her gentle features, strained by fear but refusing to break, felt painfully familiar. The shape of her jawline, the faint scar beneath her left eye, the way her brows furrowed with determination — all of it scraped against the walls of Leo's hollowed memory.

'Why… why does looking at her feel… wrong? No, not wrong — familiar,' Leo thought as a sharp pang gripped his chest.

His body trembled slightly, even though he had no physical form within the dream. It wasn't recognition — at least, not yet — but there was no denying the bond that bloomed, fragile yet deeply rooted, as he found himself unable to look away.

The woman wasn't alone. A middle-aged man with a thick beard ran beside her, wielding a battered automatic rifle. His steps were heavy but composed, as if he had long grown accustomed to carrying the weapon into battle.

Trailing close behind were three more — two girls and a boy, all looking to be about Leo's age.

Their faces flickered briefly under the poor lighting, but their eyes burned with determination, and in some cases, barely hidden terror.

"They're holding Leo in medicine bay three! We need to take the next left!" the young boy shouted breathlessly, guiding the group.

As Leo, still hovering invisibly, flinched at the mention of the name.

'Leo…?'

His brows furrowed.

'My name? Is this about me? Or… is Leo just another ancestor?'

The thought unsettled him.

It wasn't unheard of. The ghost sleeps had always shown him past fragments, pieces of the bloodline's harrowing history. Names repeating through the generations wasn't impossible.

And yet… the way the woman's eyes, wide with hope and desperation, seemed to echo his own unspoken fears — the way her every step screamed urgency, as if retrieving whoever was ahead meant the world to her—

The subtle warmth he felt just watching her — made him feel assured that this wasn't the same as watching the old memories of his predecessors.

This wasn't just another 'Leo.'

This time… something told him it might actually be him.

*TAP* *TAP* *TAP*

As the corridor opened a pathway to the left, the woman made a sudden turn, only to be surprised when she saw two guards standing not even twenty feet away.

"Watch out—" she screamed, but it was already too late, as one of the guards unleashed an explosive spell that blasted the entire group backward.

*BOOM*

A deafening blast erupted from the corner of the corridor, hurling the entire group like ragdolls.

The scene fractured momentarily in Leo's vision, turning to chaotic blurs as dust and debris filled the air.

The woman was thrown to the floor, her beautiful and kind face now dirtied with dust and smoke as she coughed violently while lying on the ground.

She was no warrior. She didn't have the mettle to even get back up after such a minor blow, yet she had grit. Despite having no strength to stand, she fought to sit up, checking on the welfare of the group.

When her vision steadied, she spotted two of the younger figures — the boy and one of the girls — engaged in brutal close-quarters combat, clashing swords against two black-armored guards.

Sparks flew as steel grated against steel, both young warriors fighting desperately to buy time.

The woman struggled on the ground, trembling as she tried to push herself up. Yet the instant her hand pressed against her side, she froze.

Blood.

A dark, wet warmth painted her fingers as her eyes widened in shock. The blast had sent shrapnel deep into her abdomen, and the wound wasn't shallow.

"Oh dear… oh lord…" she muttered, holding back tears. For a second, she faltered — but then, pulling herself together, she stood back up.

However, somehow, seeing her suffer like this, seeing her clutching her side while breathing ragged, Leo's entire being trembled.

A pressure built inside his chest.

His pupils narrowed, and an indescribable fury erupted within him, tearing through even [Monarch's Indifference], leaving the passive emotional suppressant useless against the storm brewing inside.

'What is this feeling—?!' Leo wondered as he knew that he had endured much worse and it couldn't just be the vision that triggered him so much.

He had seen death.

He had delivered death.

But this — this fury felt different. Hotter. Wilder. Uncontrolled.

'I don't even know her… so why—'

Yet even as he tried to convince himself, the sight of her gritting her teeth, tears barely restrained, rising to her feet despite the agony, made something deep inside him snap.

And then—

"I must… save Leo… I must save my baby boy," the woman whispered to herself, dragging her body forward despite the blood dripping onto the metal floor beneath her.

As hearing those words, Leo's breath hitched.

The words struck him like a hammer.

And just like that—

The memories returned.

The faded edges sharpened.

The fragments pieced themselves together.

The childhood spent playing in sunlit streets, the warm meals prepared by her trembling hands, the late nights when she cradled him to sleep, the gentle songs she hummed when he was sick.

She wasn't just some woman.

She was his mother.

Elena Skyshard.

And the others…

The middle-aged man with the rifle — his father.

The young man — his brother.

The pretty woman with the sword — his sister-in-law.

And the other girl in oil-stained overalls — his girlfriend.

'That's my family.'

Leo stood there, frozen in mid-air, unable to breathe as reality crushed him.

'That's… my family.'

Tears threatened to leak, but he forced them back.

Powerless, he could only watch as Elena, refusing to falter, pressed forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson behind her, step by agonizing step, as the group rounded another corner.

But what greeted them next caused Leo's heart to sink even further.

Because as they turned into the next hall, their troubles only seemed to worsen, as dozens of black-armored soldiers stood ready, rifles aimed, expressions hidden behind visors.

'They can't win against this many—!' Leo thought, as panic flooded his system.

Instinctively, he reached forward, desperate to break through whatever force held him in this ghostly state.

"Let me in! LET ME IN!" he roared, yet no matter how he struggled, his limbs remained immaterial, like smoke.

Helpless.

He could only scream silently as the group he now remembered as his family prepared to fight an unwinnable battle.

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And as he desperately tried to manifest, to reach them, reality tore him away —

—and he awoke.

*GASP!*

Gasping, and drenched in cold sweat, his hands clenched tight enough to draw blood.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared blankly at the ceiling of his dorm.

Tears slipped down his cheeks unnoticed.

He finally remembered.

He finally knew.

'They were looking for me.'