PSW Chapter 67: A Fragile Yofar?
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He had been walking for a long time.
The darkness stretched infinitely, without boundaries.
Like a world stripped of color, Bastet ran forward, exhausted, desperately trying to break through an invisible wall—some kind of barrier trapping him inside. No matter how hard he pushed or how far he ran, he couldn’t reach an exit.
"Hah—"
Gasping for air, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "I've been walking for at least a day now… Why is there still no end in sight? Could this be Yofar’s nightmare? A world of absolute nothingness?"
"If that’s the case, how the hell am I supposed to find him?"
Even with just his own legs, covering the size of a major city in Egypt within a day was impressive. But to traverse an entire world without transportation? That was impossible—unless he was Kua Fu, chasing the sun.
Though confused and lost, Bastet knew Yofar was still trapped somewhere in this place. He had no choice but to keep going.
Time seemed nonexistent here. He swore he had been walking for more than two days, yet he never felt hungry, nor did he need to use the restroom.
The darkness was suffocatingly quiet. Besides the sound of his own breathing, there was nothing—absolutely nothing.
Being trapped in an enclosed, pitch-black space for an extended period could drive a person insane. When all you could hear was your own heartbeat and every breath you took, it became unbearable. It could even induce claustrophobia.
"People can go crazy in a small, dark room..."
Bastet tried humming a song.
Bad idea.
The more his voice echoed in the void, the more uneasy he became. It felt like something was swallowing his voice—like the darkness was devouring it.
His unsteady singing wavered, as if afraid of disturbing something. His throat tightened, and in the end, his voice disappeared altogether.
That plan was a failure.
Rubbing his arms, he looked around in terror, his eyes darting back and forth. He kept turning around, convinced something was behind him. Even though he knew no one was there, he couldn't stop looking back.
Wiping the cold sweat from his face, he forced himself to stay calm.
"I can't keep going like this. If I don’t get a grip, I'll lose my mind before I even find Yofar."
After some thought, he unzipped his jeans, planning to—well—make some noise and prove to himself that he was still alive.
But no matter how hard he tried…
Nothing came out.
Not a single drop. Not even a sound.
Bastet pulled his pants back up with a grimace. "What the hell? This place is brutal! Won't even let me take a piss?"
His mind wandered back to Yofar.
If this was Yofar’s nightmare… Was he scared too? What had he experienced to dream of something so desolate, so utterly empty?
Bastet had no answer. He could only keep walking forward.
He didn’t know how long it had been when—BAM!
He slammed face-first into something.
"Oof!"
Stunned, he staggered back, blinking rapidly before snapping his head up in disbelief.
Before him stood a massive wooden palace door, its familiar design unmistakable. It towered five meters high, rising abruptly from the empty void as if it had always been there. There was nothing behind it—nothing around it—just a door in the middle of nowhere.
A soft voice echoed in his mind:
"Look, this is the door to Yofar. Open it."
Bastet licked his dry lips, hesitantly pressing his palm against the wood, tracing its surface. The texture felt exactly like the palace doors he had touched before.
But why was it here?
Why did it just… appear?
His heart pounded.
"I’m going to open it now."
He called out to the empty darkness. As expected, there was no response.
Screw it! If I die, I die!
A cat god has nine lives, anyway!
Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself—then slammed his shoulder into the heavy door and charged inside!
A Door Between Two Worlds
Bastet had his eyes shut and didn’t see what happened when he passed through the door.
The moment he stepped inside, his jeans and lab coat vanished. In their place was a single-shoulder white robe. From his fluffy curls, two triangular cat ears perked up, twitching. A black cat’s tail, its tip curling slightly, hung down between his legs.
The pale young man had transformed into a soft, milk-white cat-eared boy.
"What the hell?!"
His foot seemed to catch on something, causing him to stumble forward.
Flailing his arms wildly, he panicked and opened his eyes—only to crash headfirst into something firm yet soft.
"Oof—!"
Like a scene straight out of some over-the-top fairytale romance, he had slammed into a wall—one that carried the distinct scent of desert wild roses.
The scent was unmistakable. Unlike regular roses, desert roses had a subtle, cold sweetness that lingered for an unusually long time. These unique flowers grew on the borders of the arid wilderness, and their essence was often used in the fragrance oils and perfumes of a certain Egyptian king.
Bastet knew this scent all too well.
Frozen in shock, he felt strong arms wrap around him. A warm weight rested on his head, as if someone had placed their chin on his curls and was gently nuzzling against him.
A deep, aristocratic voice—rich with elegance and detachment—spoke above him.
“It’s me.”
Lips brushed against Bastet’s cat ears. A pair of half-lidded blue eyes peered down at him.
“My dear, why is it that every time you show up, your entrance is always so… unique, hmm?”
"……"
It was a simple sentence, spoken the way it always was—yet every word struck Bastet straight to the heart, making his eyes burn.
"Yofar, you bastard—!"
Clenching his teeth, he grabbed onto Yofar’s back, his fingers digging into the fabric of his robe.
All the fear, guilt, and self-recrimination he had been suppressing burst to the surface. It all rushed up his throat at once, choking him with emotion. Tears welled up and rolled down his face before he could stop them.
Bastet wanted to yell. Why didn’t Yofar appear sooner?!
Why didn’t he come find him?!
Why did he, like an idiot, fall for that woman Yano’s deception just as easily as he had?!
But when he finally spoke, his words came out as a choked, tearful cry instead:
“Did you get hurt?!”
“It’s all my fault… If I had known Yano was like this… I should’ve stopped her when she asked to speak to you alone… I let my guard down because she saved me once… I—hng—if I had just—”
“If I had stopped her back then, none of this would’ve happened! We wouldn’t be trapped here! You’re not just some ordinary person—what if someone takes advantage of this situation? What if—”
Yofar's expression darkened as he listened.
Then, he suddenly growled, “Bastet!”
Bastet immediately flinched. His fingers clenched tighter around Yofar’s robe. Right now, he was so guilty and terrified for Yofar’s safety that even being scolded made him instantly shut up.
His nose was red from crying, tears dripping down his face, but he didn’t even dare to sniffle.
After a moment of silence, he quietly buried his face in Yofar’s chest, rubbing against him like a pitiful kitten.
Yofar exhaled and reached down, rubbing slow circles through Bastet’s curly hair, stroking him like a cat.
"Bastet, look at me." His voice was softer this time.
Bastet hesitated. His ears flattened against his head, clearly afraid of being scolded again. He only tilted his face up a little, his wide green cat-like eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
…And there was still a bit of snot under his nose.
Yofar wiped it away with his thumb, then asked, "Do you know what you did wrong?"
Bastet nodded frantically. "Yes! Daddy, I was wrong! I’ll never do it again, Daddy!"
Yofar raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk.
“Oh? Now you suddenly know how to call me ‘Daddy’? Weren’t you always happily calling me ‘poop scopper’ before, hmm? What happened, oh mighty cat lord?”
Bastet: “…”
Bastet: "I was wrong, Daddy! I’ll never call you 'furball' again—wahhh!"
Yofar chuckled softly. "Actually, Bastet, I never blamed you."
Bastet’s eyes sparkled with hope. "Really?! Hubby, you’re the best!"
Yofar smiled. "Yes. Even though I’m currently trapped in the darkest and most painful memories of my past… Even though I can only watch helplessly as my own parents chained me inside an abandoned palace, humiliated me, and left me there to suffer until I endured those twenty years of disgrace and finally escaped… Even though I may eventually lose my sanity from reliving this torment and become permanently trapped in a cycle of endless nightmares—
Bastet, I still wouldn’t blame you."
Bastet: "…" Wait. Did he pause in the middle of "wouldn’t" just now? He did, didn’t he?! He totally did!
He had already been drowning in guilt, but after hearing all that, his heart twisted into knots—like a shriveled, dried-up pickle.
Yofar, meanwhile, casually (but very intentionally) continued, as if thinking aloud: "But really, none of that is the problem."
Bastet hesitated. "Then… what is the problem?"
Yofar released him, narrowing his eyes in thought. "If my guess is correct, the reason we're trapped in this dream is because Yano used the legendary Assyrian artifact—'The Eye of Ashur'."
He continued, "I read about it in the royal archives. The Eye of Ashur doesn’t harm the physical body, but it only works on certain people. Its true power is trapping victims in the nightmare of their deepest fears. If someone cannot overcome their fear, they will remain trapped in the dream forever… unable to wake up."
Finally, Yofar concluded firmly: "I can escape this dream."
Bastet's eyes lit up. "That’s great! Let’s get out of here, then!"
Yofar: "…But it will take time."
Bastet: "…Oh."
Yofar glanced at him with a smirk. But the moment Bastet turned to look, his expression instantly shifted into a deep frown—his voice turning serious. "The problem isn’t our time in the dream. The real issue is… in reality."
"If the Pharaoh continues to sleep indefinitely—"
Bastet swallowed nervously. "Nothing bad will happen… right?"
Yofar: "Yes."
Bastet: "…"
The handsome king lowered his gaze, staring down at the little black cat who was trembling, guilty, and naively hopeful. His tone was serious and cold. "Bastet, do you really think that once the king falls into slumber, the ministers and priests will remain loyal and dutiful?"
Bastet (gradually being convinced) looked horrified: "Wait, you mean—" Shit, I was just worried that they might pull some palace drama like in TV shows, but you're telling me that’s actually happening?!
Yofar (with a supremely convincing serious expression) nodded. "After purging the old ministers, I did appoint many young and capable talents. But that doesn't mean they are truly loyal to me. Even Nephthys and Hesse—though they are my most trusted aides—can’t be completely relied on. I can't even trust my own blood relatives, let alone the priests, who serve only Egypt itself. They don’t care who sits on the throne. If I remain asleep for too long, they might just kill me and install a new ruler."
Yofar’s loyal subordinates, who are completely innocent: …
Nephthys and Hesse: …
New ministers (confused meme face): Huh? We have treacherous intentions? Since when?!
Nephthys & Hesse: Your Majesty, do you even have a conscience? Can you at least try to keep a straight face while slandering us?
Bastet, who knew nothing about politics, felt a pang in his heart. He threw his arms around his man, his soft little heart aching as he realized the daily dangers his beloved faced—while he himself had been living in blissful ignorance, eating and drinking without a care!
"Forget those treacherous new ministers, I can’t believe even Nephthys and Hesse… Wahhh! You’ve worked so hard, my poor baby! This is all my fault! I swear, I’ll stand by your side! You can count on me!"
Yofar graciously accepted Bastet’s affectionate hug, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Bastet’s head, rubbing gently. His smile carried a deeper meaning.
"Bastet, promise me—don’t trust or get close to anyone except me. They will hurt me…"
"Mhm! Mhm!"
If not for me, Yofar wouldn’t be in this danger. Bastet, filled with guilt, hugged his fragile lover tightly and puffed out his chest.
"Yofar, from now on, I will protect you!"
"…"
"Trust me!"
"Alright."
I look forward to it.
Under the thick golden lashes, Yofar’s icy blue eyes shimmered with amusement.
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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