Rhode is made of dreams. Not the ethereal things that slip away even in twilight. Rhode is made dreams, things of substance and subconscious, and she creates dreams, things that challenge reality and turn the world into something simpler. Something better.

Rhode dreams of nothing, a vacuum. She dreams of cleansing the universe, of crushing humans. It hurts sometimes - humans have the grandest dreams of all. They're so small, so useless, and yet they wish and they wish and they wish. To be stronger. To be better. To live a long and happy life. It hurts to crush those dreams, to hold them in the palm of her hand and hear their whisper as they flutter against her conscience. Teases, she thinks, and then is reminded of Tyki's butterflys, so pretty, elusive and destructive and can't help but find the parallels. But Rhode's own dreams are of nothing. A vacuum.

When she sleeps, she is empty.

So she creates them instead. Watches them play out before her and keeps them safe in big toy boxes. Dreams are surprisingly sturdy things, and last a long time. But it's better when she makes someone else watch them, when she plants them in their mind. The way their eyes go blank, like their mind can't comprehend, and they start shaking a little bit, like from pleasure. Like she's God. It's almost blasphemous, but the tiny taint of should-i-be-doing-this makes it all the much sweeter. She feels like Eve must have felt, biting into the apple.

Rhode's biggest dream that she embodies is faith. She believes, completely and without a doubt, that God is real and that they are Chosen. She has faith. She is faith.

But she's only a second away from human.


Allen is humanity. He's the rush-rush of blood in the veins, the drive to be better and bigger. He's built everything he has on a dream, a dream to save demons and people alike. Rhode visits him sometimes, and sighs all shuddery when the familiar flutter of his subconscious beats on her awareness. It used to be a butterfly of a wish, frail and beautiful. Now it is more of a falcon, deadly and strong. She loves it.

She loves him.

But he hates her, so intent on his dream that she becomes everything he hates. A Noah. An enemy. A nightmare. She chuckles at that, sometimes, because although it should hurt, she knows she is divine. Heavensent. More of an angel than his precious Lenalee. And he is such a silly, silly little boy. A beautiful, beautiful boy.

She doesn't know if it's right, or if God would permit it, and there's that little tint of Eve to her actions that damned the humans in the first place. But she does it anyway. She sends him dreams, plants them in his head, snuggled up tight and wreathed in sleep. Enough, usually, to last a while. She watches as movement starts beneath his eyelids, watches his face frown and shift and smile, sighs all shuddery when he says her name from parted lips. Dreams. She's a master at those. And she'll make it so she is everything he wants, as much as he hates her. She hums when she leaves, transcending into her world of make believe, chequered floorboards and manequins of those she cares about. Allen's sitting on a throne but she just can't seem to get him right.

It bugs her that he needs reality to be right, but she only has dreams.


The Dream came first with the Noah. She came first. She knows all about beginnings, is one herself. Dreams never end because you never die in dreams, so she doesn't know about endings. And real dreams, substantial ones, they only end when they're achieved. And an achievable dream isn't really a dream at all, but more of a goal. She isn't goals. She's dreams. So she starts to try and win Allen, as a dream and knowing she won't win, because she doesn't know how to end her infatuation with him. Dreams don't end, unless you die.


Allen's eyelids are heavy and his friends have asked him ten times already if he wants to rest because, 'have you even slept this week?' but he knows he can't do that. He can't succumb. To sleep, nor to the dreams. It's a betrayal, almost, and he hates doing it at all, let alone in front of his friends.

The dreams of Rhode. He's only just joined up with his friends, only just found his purpose in life, he's only just about to go on a mission with them all over again. He doesn't want to taint it with something he hates so much. They stop under a bridge and the wall is soft on his back, as soft as a pillow, and his eyes only slip shut for a second but already she is there, half-shut eyes and sweet lips. He jerks awake and two minutes later, they're in the Ark, but he still can't get rid of the phantom touch of her hand touching his fingers.

Leaving Kanda behind hurts, and he knows, almost-kinda-knows, he won't see him again. Leaving Krory is harder because he's so weak and Jasdevi are so strong and it's almost certain this time he won't see the strange man again. But when they reach the top of the stairs and the door flies open, a soft body landing in his arms that instinctively move to catch and sweet lips catching his, dreams swirl around his head and daze him. For a second he feels like everything's okay. But then she pulls away and the umbrella is talking and Lavi looks disgusted so Allen contorts his features.

But there's a superior look tossed from half-cast eyelids, as though she and him share a secret, and her lips (her sweet lips) quirk upwards in one corner. Something settles in his chest, warm.


She feels like Eve, tempting her Adam.

But in the end - they're both damned. She's only a Dream, and he's only humanity. It's almost a relief when she closes her eyes for the last time, and the vacuum moves to greet her.