One night Acnologia was attacked with another dream. This one was far more strange and fuzzy and when we awoke he couldn't remember much of it. He just awoke to feel unsettled and walked onto his thin balcony to get some air. 

He hated dreams, it was official. He swore to himself that if he ever met a deity that was in charge of dreams, he'd kill it.

"Hey, you up there!" someone called.

Acnologia looked down skeptically at the old man standing on the street below him.

"Who the hell are you?" Acnologia huffed.

"An old friend, I'd like you to come down for a second," the old man called.

Acnologia was debating whether he was hallucinating or was conversing with a mad man in the middle of the night.

"Of course, if you don't want to, I suppose you don't have to. It's not like you recognize me anyway," the old man smiled his tone changing.

Something in Acnologia's mind clicked and his brain erupted in arguments. Some of the voices swore continuously, others tried to reason their way out of the situation, still, others cried to murder the man below us.

"Who the hell are you?" Acnologia repeated standing up straight and tensing; his voice was strong but his heart was quivering with the forsaken feeling of fear.

"So you do remember me?" the old man smiled. Very suddenly Acnologia was standing on the street in front of the man... he didn't know how he got there.

"I don't know you," Acnologia denied but in his heart, he knew it was a blatant lie, he had to stop himself from trembling... there was no way this frail man before him was... there was no way.

The old man shrugged and looked at Acnologia through faded eyes. "Brilliant of you, simply brilliant. I underestimated you. I thought you would ensure your victory in this life but instead, you are raising your killers to love you... brilliant, simply extraordinary."

"How do you know-" Acnologia began his voice rising into a growl.

"Eight of them," the old man laughed, "three second-generation slayers, three first-generation slayers, and two third-generation slayers. The eldest has already left the nest, the next has a fondness for your guild, the one after him loves you like the father he wished he had, the five after that see you as a substitute guardian for the ones they lost. Wonderful... you play your cards very well."

Acnologia felt the hatred rise in his bones but his mind still screamed in fear.

"I apologize for awakening you... I just got impatient, you know how it is, a few hundred years tends to do that to you. Sorry, I will see you later... much later," the old man said mostly to himself turning to walk away.

"Who are you?!" Acnologia growled trying to swallow the fear in his throat. How was someone like him, the dreaded king of dragons, be afraid of this frail man... the answer was simple... but the answer was a truth that couldn't be.

"You know," the old man smiled cruelly, "Goodnight."

Acnologia sat bolt upright. He was on his couch, in his apartment. The door to the balcony was closed, his door was still locked. He put a hand to his face and swallowed the lump of fear.

It was a dream... it had to have been. No... it had been a nightmare... right?