Kite's first painting made Reinhard actually squint.

The Vermillion Bird was surrounded by what appeared to be a miniature sun. It was colored brilliant yellows and oranges and whites so bright they seemed to glow off the canvas.

The bird itself was barely visible within that corona of light, just suggestions of form and feathers. A massive ball of light encompassed everything, radiating heat that Reinhard could almost feel despite knowing it was just paint.

The second showed the bird flying above an ocean.

But this wasn't a peaceful flight as the water below was turning barren as the bird passed. It displays multiple paintings of steam rising into the clouds. Fish floated belly-up as the ocean itself seemed to shrink, water evaporating under impossible heat.

Kite had captured the transition beautifully, showing healthy blue water on one side, gradually transforming to cracked, dry seabed on the other.

The third depicted the Vermillion Bird sleeping in a volcano. Lava flowed around and over it like a blanket, the molten rock cascading down the bird's form in rivers of liquid fire.

But the bird seemed completely at peace, nestled in destruction as if it were the most comfortable bed imaginable.

"That's terrifying and beautiful." Jake said, voicing what everyone was thinking.

Finally, Jake presented his own Beast Spirit Qilin artwork.

His style was gentler than the others, focusing on transformation rather than power or violence.

The first piece showed a sequence of multiple panels arranged to tell a story. The Qilin's hooves touched black water in the first panel.

Step by step through subsequent panels, the water changed. The black water began changing into gray, and then it lightened to murky blue.

Finally, in the last panel, the water shone with brilliant, crystalline clarity, the kind of perfect blue that seemed too pure to exist in reality.

The second painting showed the Qilin completely wrapped in the elements.

Fire spiraled around its legs while water flowed across its side. Air currents made its mane float impossibly, and lightning crackled through its horn.

Earth formed patterns on its body while Light haloed its head, and metal rendered in silvery strokes covered its hooves like armor. Jake had somehow made all these elements coexist without clashing and creating harmony from chaos.

Reinhard sighed a sound of appreciation and slight overwhelm. These sketches and paintings were amazing, each one revealing something profound about the Beast Spirits that created them. "These are all incredible." He said honestly. "The amount of work and skill that went into each piece..."

The group fell into an animated discussion, everyone talking over each other as they reacted to the artwork. Irene pointed out compositional choices she particularly admired.

Alger made jokes that somehow also contained legitimate artistic criticism. Resa took notes about symbolism and recurring themes. Kite and Jake debated color theory and emotional impact.

Reinhard participated fully, offering his own observations and asking questions about technique.

The afternoon passed in this way as the six students bonded over shared fascination with dreams and art.

…

Another Saturday found the Dream Club making their way to the History Institution.

Midas had extended a special invitation after learning about their focus, offering to show them the Grand Grimoire. A massive tome that supposedly contained various Creation Dreams collected over centuries.

As they walked through the Institution's halls, Reinhard became uncomfortably aware of attention focusing on him.

Staff members stopped mid-task to stare while Researchers walking past froze, eyes tracking his movement with expressions ranging from hungry curiosity to open awe. Some looked stunned, as if seeing a celebrity they'd never expected to encounter in person.

Others showed heated interest, clearly wanting to approach but holding back.

Irene giggled beside him, her cyan eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh my, looks like someone's famous here!" Her voice carried teasing warmth. "The man who brought new Creation knowledge to the History Institution! They probably want your autograph."

Reinhard's lips twitched in reluctant amusement. "Please don't encourage them."

But the attention continued as they moved deeper into the Institution. Whispers followed in their wake, excited murmurs about "the student who dreamed of Ymir" and "new creation mythology" and "unprecedented information."

Finally, they reached the Grand Grimoire's location, a special room where the massive book rested on a reinforced pedestal. The tome was enormous, easily three feet tall and nearly as wide, bound in leather that had darkened with age. Metal clasps held it closed, engraved with protective runes.

Midas was waiting for them, his white hair neat in its braid, light golden eyes bright with enthusiasm behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Welcome! Please, come see what we've preserved."

He opened the Grimoire with reverent care, and the club gathered around to read.

The Creation myths contained within were frustratingly vague, fragments rather than complete narratives. There were no clear pictures, no detailed entries that provided a comprehensive understanding.

But running through all of them were common threads.

Death.

Sacrifice.

Transformation through destruction.

One entry mentioned "the sacrifice of a massive entity whose body became the foundation."

Another described "the use of a dragon's corpse to shape continents and seas."

A third spoke of "the splitting of a massive primordial ocean, separation creating duality."

Reinhard found himself thinking about his own dreams. About Ymir's creation, about Adumala's transformation, and about Surtr's own words about Ymir's death sparking a new world. The patterns matched what Midas had noted before death as a spark for a new existence.

After studying the Grand Grimoire, Midas led them through other sections of the Institution. They saw relics collected from expeditions and archaeological digs, fragments of civilizations that predated recorded history.

Bones sat in glass cases, some so large they must have come from creatures beyond imagination.

Swords rested on velvet cushions, their blades made from metals that didn't match any known alloy.

Plates covered in inscriptions filled entire walls, the words carved with precision but impossible to decipher despite decades of effort.

Each relic spoke of lost knowledge, of peoples and powers that had risen and fallen before current civilization began.

Reinhard moved through these displays with growing awareness that history was deeper, stranger, and more cyclical than anyone wanted to admit.

Eventually, the group split up to explore different sections based on personal interest.

Reinhard found himself drawn to materials about Colin Forest.

The Monster Zone he'd visited before, home to countless Phantasm Beasts. He pulled books from shelves, settling into a quiet corner to read.

The texts detailed various Phantasm Beasts' behaviors, habitats, and abilities. He learned about territorial disputes between different species, about migration patterns that followed seasonal changes, and about the complex ecosystem that existed within the forest's depths.

Some entries described clashes between particularly powerful beasts. He recalled the sight of a massive serpent rushing up to devour the wyverns flying through the sky. But then a massive fish with wings chomps down on it before leaping away.

I wonder what a battle with that fish would be like. Reinhard thought as he read of battles that reshaped entire sections of forest, creating clearings or destroying ancient trees.

Reading these accounts made Reinhard more aware of just how dangerous Colin Forest truly was and how fortunate they'd been during their previous visits.

Hours passed in comfortable silence, each club member absorbed in their chosen research.

…

When the Institution finally began closing for the day, the group reconvened and headed to one of the Academy's cafes. They claimed a large table near windows overlooking a courtyard, ordering food and drinks while settling in for discussion.

"That Grand Grimoire was fascinating," Resa said, pulling out her ever-present notebook. "The recurring theme of sacrificial death in creation myths can't be a coincidence."

"Maybe death is necessary for transformation." Alger suggested, stirring sugar into his coffee. "The old must be destroyed for the new ones to begin."

The conversation flowed naturally, everyone sharing observations about what they'd seen and read. Theories were proposed with questions raised that had no easy answers.

Connections were drawn between different dreams and the Beast Spirits behind them.

The cafe's warmth, the laughter of friends, the simple pleasure of shared food and conversation, all of it felt precious somehow.

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