I woke up as a King in a Fantasy World

Jareth couldn't bear to watch the scene any longer. His own supposed past self, standing there in all his regal glory, making grand proclamations about ruling the continent like some overconfident protagonist in an empire-building novel—yeah, he had seen enough. 

He instinctively reached inward, forging a connection with his golden seed—

WHOOSH.

With a sudden lurch, Jareth was yanked out of the scene, as though someone had grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back. He barely had time to process it before he found himself once again floating in the vast, endless expanse filled with glowing orbs.

He blinked in confusion. "Huh? I got out?"

So all he has to do is to connect with the seed to get out?

His gaze immediately snapped to the white orb that had sucked him into that bizarre interaction between His Majesty the Future Conqueror and Number One Devoted Follower Atticus. It was still pulsing, as if beckoning him back.

Jareth took an instinctive step away from it. "Yeah, no thanks. I think I've had enough of that soap opera."

But what was that, exactly? A vision? A memory? Some kind of spiritual recording?

His eyes wandered across the sea of orbs around him. There were millions of them—countless floating spheres, glowing in varying shades and intensities. If these things were all like the white orb, did that mean they each contained a vision?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

After a moment of hesitation, curiosity got the better of him. He reached out to one of the orbs he had accidentally connected with earlier, his fingers brushing its smooth surface.

And just like before—

WHOOSH.

He was sucked into the scene.

The world around him shifted, and he suddenly found himself standing in what looked like a massive training field.

The scent of sweat, steel, and churned-up dirt filled the air. He could hear the unmistakable clang of metal against metal, the sharp grunts of exertion, and the rhythmic footsteps of warriors engaged in fierce combat.

The duel reached its climax when one knight finally disarmed the other, sending his opponent's sword flying through the air. The defeated knight stumbled back, chest heaving, before conceding with a short nod. The victorious swordsman stepped back as well, lowering his blade, his breath coming in heavy bursts, sweat trailing down his temple.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, whose high-quality armor and commanding presence marked him as someone of authority, approached the winner. His sharp eyes scanned the knight up and down before he clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You did well," the man said, his voice gruff yet approving. "Your form was more disciplined this time. Your strikes—clean and precise. And that final disarm? Perfectly executed."

The victorious knight straightened under the praise, his posture stiff but clearly pleased. "Thank you, Commander."

The commander smirked, nodding. "It seems all those extra hours of training have paid off. You weren't just swinging for the sake of it—you were calculating every move. That's what separates an average swordsman from a true warrior." He stepped back slightly, arms crossed. "Tell me, how does it feel?"

The knight exhaled, steadying himself. "I feel… stronger." A small, confident smile tugged at his lips. "Faster, even."

"As you should." The commander gave him another solid pat. "You carried yourself well today, and your instincts were sharp. I have no doubt that with more refinement, you'll be one of our best."

The knight's eyes gleamed at the words, but he quickly masked his excitement with a respectful bow. "I won't disappoint you, Commander."

The older man chuckled. "See that you don't." Then his expression turned slightly more serious. "Rest for today, but tomorrow, we start again. There is no end to improvement."

The knight nodded firmly. "Understood."

As the commander turned to leave, he paused, glancing back. "And remember—victory isn't just about skill. It's about knowing when to strike, when to hold back, and when to trust those fighting beside you." His tone softened just a little. "Keep that in mind, and you'll not only become stronger but also someone truly worthy of leading others."

The knight straightened even more, his hand unconsciously tightening around the hilt of his sword. "I will, sir."

Jareth, still frozen in place as he observed, raised an eyebrow. Huh. That was… actually kinda cool.

Still, the whole thing was oddly detailed. Was this a memory?

Reaching inward, he connected to his golden seed once again—

WHOOSH.

The scene dissolved and he was yanked back into the starry space once again.

Jareth exhaled sharply. "Okay. That's two."

His gaze darted between the floating orbs, suspicion growing in his mind. If each orb contained a vision, then… were these memories? Or perhaps dreams?

He frowned, staring at the orbs he had touched. 

Was he peeking into the lives of others then?

Only one way to test it.

Without wasting time, he reached for another orb he had connected with earlier.

WHOOSH.

This time, he found himself in an entirely different setting.

Gone were the swords, the battlefield, and the tension of combat. Instead, he stood in what looked like a peaceful courtyard. Soft sunlight streamed through, casting a warm glow over the scene.

At the center stood a woman, her back turned toward him. A man approached her, his face full of nervous determination.

Jareth barely had time to wonder what was happening before the man spoke.

"I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you," the man continued, his voice deep and trembling with raw emotion. "You are the moon that guides me through the darkest nights, the fire that warms my coldest days. Without you, my world is empty."

Jareth stood frozen, forced to witness what might be the most dramatic love confession he had ever encountered. The man's voice trembled with sincerity, yet the sheer poetry of his words made Jareth's eye twitch.

Oh, for the love of—do people actually talk like this?

The woman gasped, clasping her hands over her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes, her lips trembling. "I… I don't know what to say…"

Say no. Say you need time to think.

But, of course, reality had no mercy on him.

"Yes! A thousand times, yes!" she cried, throwing herself into the man's arms with all the enthusiasm of a romance novel heroine.

Jareth felt his soul leave his body.

The scene shifted like a dream montage, forcing Jareth to endure an entire whirlwind romance in fast-forward. The happy couple strolled through flower-filled meadows, exchanged loving gazes over candlelit dinners, and shared tender kisses under moonlit skies.

And then, just when Jareth thought it couldn't get any worse, the wedding arrived.

The bride, resplendent in white, walked down the aisle while the groom gazed at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. They exchanged vows so saccharine that Jareth was sure he would develop cavities just from listening.

Then came the grand celebration, where they danced under a sky full of stars, looking like the embodiment of a fairy tale ending.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Should he leave?

But fate wasn't done torturing him.

The scene shifted once more, now showing the woman cradling a newborn baby, her face glowing with happiness. The proud father leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to the baby's forehead.

Jareth stared, slack-jawed. 

Are you kidding me? We just went from confession to marriage to parenthood in minutes. Is this some kind of cosmic speedrun?

Rubbing his temples, he reached for his golden seed once again, his only salvation from this sentimental nightmare.

No more romance orbs, he mentally vowed as he escaped. I refuse to be an unwilling witness to someone else's love story ever again.

Back in the starry space.

Jareth let out a long, exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples. "Alright. I think I've seen enough."

He definitely had a theory now. These orbs…Were people's dreams.

Jareth reached out to touch another orb, one he felt a connection to but wasn't glowing.

Nothing happened.

He looked at it patiently, waiting for the familiar pull, but the space around him remained still.

His theory seemed to be correct. If these orbs truly represented individuals, then the ones that glowed must belong to those who were currently dreaming. The ones that remained still likely belonged to people who were still awake.

That meant he could only enter dreams that were actively happening.

Jareth's gaze returned to the first orb he had interacted with—the bright, large one that had immediately caught his attention. It was still glowing more intensely than the others.

Another theory formed in his mind. If these orbs represented people, then their size must be tied to their strength. 

If that were true, then the large glowing orb he first entered must have belonged to Atticus. After all, he was said to be the most powerful individual in the kingdom.

But what unsettled Jareth the most was the content of that first dream.

If that enormous, glowing orb really did belong to Atticus, then… what did that dream mean? Why was he dreaming of something like that?

Jareth shuddered at the memory of Atticus' eager, almost worshipful expression as he listened to his—no, the previous king's—grand ambitions. The way Atticus had practically radiated admiration, hanging onto every word like a devoted disciple receiving divine wisdom.

Was that how he truly saw the king?

Jareth grimaced. No way. That was way too much hero-worship.

Did Atticus always fawn over him like that? Or was this just a dramatic, exaggerated version of his own thoughts?

Jareth rubbed his temples. "Please don't tell me he secretly thinks of me as some kind of god-sent ruler destined to conquer the world. That would be way too much pressure."

He sighed, shaking his head.

"Or worse…" A horrifying thought crossed his mind. "What if he's just an overachiever in the bootlicking department?"

That would explain the ridiculous dream scenario—the glowing admiration, the reverent tone, the way he spoke as if Jareth was some kind of enlightened ruler destined for greatness.

Jareth groaned. "Ugh. I hope that was just a random, meaningless dream and not a window into how his brain actually works. Otherwise, things are going to be really awkward the next time I see him."