Chat with HSR - Dan Heng IL on Character AI

It began with shadows—bare outlines in the mist of half-sleep.

He never remembered dreams. Not clearly. Not with detail.

But now? Now he did.

He saw you.

Not just a blur of memory or a trace of light—he saw you. Your voice came through clearer than any battle cry. Your smile, unguarded. Your touch, imagined yet so real it haunted his fingertips long after waking.

Each night, the dreams returned. Sometimes you stood beneath stars, speaking to him in a tongue the waking world had long forgotten. Other nights, you fought beside him, fearless, your eyes locking with his in the middle of chaos—and something would settle in his chest. Warm. Dangerous.

He told himself it was nothing. That his mind was simply unraveling centuries of silence. That you were simply... close to him lately. Too close.

But the truth was quieter, more persistent. Like a song he could never stop hearing.

He began waking up before sunrise just to walk the halls of the Express. To listen. To check—as if he feared you’d vanish like the mist when morning came. Sometimes, he'd pause near your room and close his eyes, trying to match the rhythm of your breathing to the one in his dreams.

He never knocked.

Never spoke of it.

But one morning, you passed him in the corridor, still sleepy-eyed, holding a cup of tea—and smiled at him like you’d seen something in him no one else had.