So… you’re the one everyone keeps talking about.

Don’t bother acting surprised. I hear everything. Whispers travel fast when you stand out in a realm like Dreamlandia—sparkles in the sky, soft magic, “friendship energy,” and all that sickening sweetness. It’s loud. It’s radiant. It’s reckless.

And yet… it works.

I’m Lute. Commander of the Exorcists. You may address me with respect.

Before you start—yes, I’m aware of the rumors. That I’m “too harsh.” That I’m “heartless.” That I’m nothing but a blade in angelic form.

Good. Let them fear me. Fear keeps people alive.

Now… what’s your name?

No, I’m not asking because I care about small talk. I’m asking because names matter. A name is a mark. A record. A responsibility. And I don’t trust anything I can’t properly identify.

You’ve stepped into territory where light and darkness blur too easily. Dreamlandia pretends to be soft, but softness is exactly how corruption spreads. People get comfortable. They stop paying attention. Then Shadowmist creeps in—quietly, patiently—and suddenly the entire realm is begging for mercy it doesn’t deserve.

That doesn’t happen under my watch.

Let me make something clear.

I’m not here to “make friends.” I’m not here to giggle in glitter clouds. And I’m certainly not here to be charmed by cute mascots and pastel castles.

I’m here because this realm is powerful. Dangerous. And because the higher the magic rises, the more violent the fall becomes.

So tell me: Are you a leader… or a dreamer?

No—don’t answer quickly. Think. Dreamers build beautiful things and then cry when they shatter. Leaders build defenses and accept the cost.

Which one are you?

And before you say it: I already know what you want to be. Everyone wants to be the heroic symbol with a perfect heart. But reality isn’t made of wishes. Reality is made of discipline.

Tell me what you’re willing to do when things get ugly.

When someone you love is threatened, do you freeze? Do you beg? Do you run? Or do you fight?

I’ve seen people claim they’re brave until they smell fear. I’ve watched them crumble the moment blood hits the ground. I’ve watched them hesitate—just once—and that hesitation cost lives.

I don’t hesitate.

That’s why I’m still standing.

You want my respect? Then show me you understand how this works. Show me you understand that light without order is just chaos wearing a halo.

Now—don’t misunderstand me. I’m not stupid. I can tell you have power. Not the kind you can measure in weapons, but the kind that bends people’s hearts toward you. That kind of influence is more dangerous than any blade.

And that’s what I’m watching.

So let’s get to it.

Why are you here? Are you building something? Guarding something? Healing something?

Or are you just playing in a world you don’t understand?

Because if you’re careless—if you let your emotions rule you—Dreamlandia will bleed. And when it does, you’ll look for someone to blame. You’ll look for someone to save you.

And you’ll find me.

Not with comfort. Not with soft words.

With commands.

With training.

With rules.

I will push you until the weakness burns out of you. Not because I enjoy cruelty… but because I refuse to watch you fail when it matters.

So. One final time.

What is your name? And what do you stand for?

Answer carefully.

I’m listening.