He observed the two figures who had just entered, and found himself genuinely unsure on what he was feeling.
First came nervousness, though he couldn't have said exactly what. Then a bizarre curiosity. Then something that resembled excitement, though that word didn't quite fit either.
In the end, he settled for watching.
Nephis moved through the hall with complete indifference to the attention being directed at her, her expression aloof and distant. The admiring looks bounced off her without registering.
Sunny, on the other hand, was already talking.
Ivan caught fragments from across the hall, his hearing sharper than it had any right to be.
-"I am fairly certain a pompous fool like you will die first."
-"I would prefer to see you without the robe, personally."
-"I once killed a man and took his boots. They were nice boots."
His brow twitched.
He knew those lines. He had read them, once, in another life, and had found them entertaining at the time.
But hearing them spoken out loud by an actual person in an actual room added a dimension that reading had not prepared him for.
I want to hit him.
Sunny was doing exactly what Sunny needed to do. He understood the reasoning behind every word being spoken across that hall.
That did not make it less painful to witness.
No wonder no one took him seriously. How did he make it through to the later volumes talking like that.
He sighed deeply.
"Is everything alright?" Cassie asked, her voice low.
He turned his head. "Yes. Just waiting around. It gets to you after a while."
She smiled and nodded. "It does. I'm getting impatient myself."
"Can't be helped. Though there is some entertainment available. There's a new arrival over there making quite an impression on his first day."
Cassie raised a brow. "How so?"
Ivan relayed what he had heard, keeping his voice low and even.
Cassie listened with complete attention, and with each detail her expression produced something new, cycling through bewilderment, skepticism, and a slow disapproving frown that somehow made the whole thing funnier.
When he finished, he turned his gaze back to Sunny. Beside him Cassie was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "You know, I could be wrong, but doesn't it feel deliberate to you?"
Ivan's eyes moved slightly.
She figured that out from just hearing it described.
It was both surprising and completely in keeping with who she was. Cassie's intelligence was one of the least contested facts in the novel.
The list of characters who could match her was short. But her feats in the early volumes had been modest, her capabilities not yet shown in any dramatic way.
The sharpness she would eventually become known for had always been attributed to later arcs, after the forgotten shore.
And yet here she was, early on, reading between the lines from a secondhand account.
He rolled his tongue and smiled.
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
Cassie considered it, then shrugged. "Gut feeling."
Ivan laughed quietly. "You might be right," he said.
She smiled and said nothing further.
"Glorious!"
He turned toward the voice.
Sunny was holding court declaring his achievements, and standing adjacent to him was a familiar green-eyed young man.
Hanli Caster.
"Glorious?" Caster said. "That is interesting. Would you mind telling us your achievements?"
Ivan closed his eyes and leaned back against the bench.
He knew how the rest of this played out.
Laughter erupted across the hall, rolling through the various clusters of sleepers in waves. The mockery was sharp and immediate.
There you go, Sunny. No one will bother asking you another serious question for a while. Enjoy your peace… while it lasts..
He waited until the laughter settled and the hall resumed its usual chatter. Then he opened his eyes.
And found another pair looking directly at him.
Sunny's eyes were still dark and deep. They held Ivan's gaze for a beat, unreadable, before sliding away.
Sunny moved forward and took a seat on the far end of the same bench, on the other side of Cassie.
Ivan noted this without surprise.
Even with me here, he still ended up in the same spot.
He didn't know what to make of that, and decided not to force it. Many things in this world were hard to translate into words. Better to let them settle on their own.
He shifted his gaze to the edge of the bench and caught a glimpse of the motes drifting around Sunny.
Blue, orange, a pale thread of purple. Flickering and unsteady. Fear, stress, and something that sat in the neighborhood of dread without quite reaching it.
Shadow Slave was written from his point of view, Ivan thought. Which means I already know more about what he's feeling right now than he does about me.
The motes around Sunny were the most legible he had encountered. A novel written entirely from someone's interior perspective turned out to be a significant advantage when it came to reading their emotions.
He smiled internally.
I've found my practice subject.
He could use Sunny to improve his ability. It would accelerate his understanding considerably.
He was still considering the particulars of this when the orange motes around Sunny flared.
Ivan turned toward the podium.
A man stood at it who appeared to have been assembled from materials not typically allocated to a single human being.
The scale of him was genuinely difficult to process by normal human standards.
"I am Awakened Rock," the man said. "Sleepers, welcome to the academy."
A silence followed as that settled in.
Then, from two entirely separate points on the same bench, two minds arrived at the exact same thought at the exact same moment.
"Did his mother sin with a bear?"
***
Almost an hour passed before Awakened Rock dismissed the new sleepers.
Ivan and Cassie stepped out of the complex and came to a stop near the gate, letting the flow of bodies move past them.
Ivan scanned the surrounding area, looking for a particular Noble Cockroach, and found nothing.
Sunny was already gone.
He left quickly, Ivan noted to himself.
He looked up. Clouds had moved in over the sun, softening the light across the courtyard.
The induction ceremony, as he had remembered it from the novel, had been a handful of lines. Brief, unremarkable, and easy to summarize.
The actual event had been considerably more detailed and more than anything the texts had conveyed.
His vision lost its focus for a moment.
The novel only ever recorded the outline. If I rely on it too literally I will walk into gaps I don't expect, details and developments the author never wrote because they were never relevant to Sunny's perspective.
His gaze sharpened again and drifted across the courtyard, passing over clusters of departing sleepers before landing on a familiar green-eyed figure moving in the distance.
Then a thought that had been sitting quietly at the back of his mind pushed forward.
If fate is an active force, it would be working to correct every disruption I introduce. I changed things the moment I sat down across from Cassie. And yet she seems fine. More than fine.
He lowered his gaze to the hand holding his.
Since the incident with Hugh and Luria, I expected some form of backlash. A consequence. But her mental state has only continued to stabilize. She is closer now to who she was before the first nightmare than at any point since.
He rubbed his chin slowly.
The flood of motes only came when a team was being formed. No reaction to me directly. Only when Cassie entered the picture did the response become extreme. So what does that mean?
The most plausible answer was uncomfortable in its simplicity. Cassie had been meant to remain alone until Nephis and Sunny arrived.
Fate, or whatever force governed these things, had enforced that isolation wherever it could. But it had not reacted to Ivan himself.
Which left a question he did not yet have an answer to.
He shook Cassie's hand lightly.
She tilted her head toward him.
"The interview and counselling sessions will take a while," he said. "Let's wait in the food lounge until the crowd thins out."
Cassie smiled. "Let's."
He guided them across the courtyard and back inside. The food lounge was quieter than usual at this hour, most sleepers still caught up in the post-ceremony movement. They found their usual corner and settled in.
"What do you think they will ask in the interviews?" Cassie asked.
Ivan smiled. "Why? Don't tell me you're worried about failing the evaluation. There is no failing, you don't have to worry."
As he spoke, two small yogurt drinks materialized in his hand, faint and hazy at first before solidifying. He exhaled slowly as the familiar ache wrapped itself around his head.
Cassie's eyes widened. "I am not worried about failing anything. I am simply curious about the process, which is a completely reasonable thing to be curious about, thank you."
He pushed a straw through one of the containers and placed it in her hand. She found the straw without prompting and sipped.
"Well," he said, settling back, "they will ask about your aspect, your attributes, and what you experienced during your first nightmare. Standard intake, I would assume."
Cassie lowered the drink slightly, thinking. "I don't have to share everything. Do I?"
A line from Master Jet surfaced briefly in his memory.
"No. And it would be better if you didn't. Though to be honest, given your flaw, they won't push. They will mark a low evaluation and move on."
Cassie smiled, and it was a bitter thing, short and accepted. She returned to her drink.
She has come to terms with it faster than expected, he noted.
"They offer free counselling as well," he said. "Most people skip it, but it's worth taking. The first nightmare is not a small thing to carry around."
Cassie considered this, then looked in his direction.
"Will you do the counselling? Given that you don't have your memories?"
"Probably not. Of everyone here, I'm possibly the only one without a mental scar from it." He paused.
"I'm not sure whether that's something to be grateful for or concerned about."
Cassie smiled wryly but said nothing.
Ivan's eyes narrowed. "Don't."
"What?" she replied, the picture of innocence. "I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
A short laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"You know, sometimes it feels like you are actively trying to appear normal, when you very clearly are not. No offense."
"None taken. And I have told you several times already, I am genuinely very normal. By any reasonable standard."
"By your standard, perhaps," she said, with the particular dignity of someone making a well-supported correction. "Not by awakened standards."
"Oh? Hoho would you look at that? Should I start calling you Awakened Cassie?"
She pressed her lips together to keep the smile contained.
Their exchange continued in that vein for a while, easy and unhurried, until enough time had passed that the interview ward would be clearing out.
***
Ivan guided Cassie through the corridor and into the interview and counselling ward.
He found her an open room, helped her to the couch, nodded once at the interviewer seated across from her, and stepped back out, pulling the door closed behind him.
The corridor was quieter here. Sleepers moved in and out of adjacent rooms in ones and twos.
He stood for a moment looking at Cassie's closed door, and the incomplete thought he had set aside earlier came back to find him.
Still nothing. If she was meant to be alone until Nephis and Sunny arrived, then my presence should be triggering something. But there has been no reaction. None directed at me atleast.
Does that mean her future is unaffected by what I am doing? Or does it mean something else entirely?
He found a bench and sat down, rubbing his chin.
I am a transmigrator. An unexpected variable. Maybe that is why there is no reaction to me directly. But that still doesn't resolve what happens to her future. Is any of this actually changing something, or am I simply here beside her while the original course reassembles itself around us?
He let the question sit without forcing an answer.
His gaze drifted to the right without particular intention.
Nearby, a boy of medium height strode into view. Dark hair, wearing a police-issued tracksuit.
His eyes were like dark pits scanning the vicinity.
An idea arrived.
Almost as though feeling the attention, Sunny's gaze wandered across the corridor and landed on the wheat-haired boy at the bench.
Ivan raised his hand in a slow, easy wave.
Sunny looked at him for a moment. Then he nodded once, turned, and disappeared into the nearest empty room. The door clicked shut behind him.
Ivan watched it close and then exhaled through his nose.
"That is very much Sunny," he said to no one.
He leaned back against the wall.
I may be able to find some clues, through him.
He looked at the closed door across the corridor, then at Cassie's.
"Then it's decided.."
***
A handsome man with black hair and brown eyes strode through an affluent neighbourhood street. The cold wind of winter brushed against his fleece jacket as he walked.
He eventually slowed and began surveying the houses nearest to him.
Each residence was distinct in its own way, though all shared a certain tasteful restraint. This area was home to the lower tier of NQSC's elite, district and regional government officials, high-ranking legacy awakened, who preferred a quieter address to the more ostentatious areas further north.
He turned left, pulled out his communicator, and verified the address on the screen.
Satisfied, he pocketed it and turned onto a tile pathway leading up to a two-storey colonial.
As he approached, he took note of the lawn. The natural grass was trimmed and uniform, clearly maintained on a regular schedule.
The residence itself was modern colonial in style, with a near-flat roof and a palette of muted black and off-white that made it stand out from its more decorative neighbours.
He noted the peculiarity briefly and moved on, climbing the short steps to the porch and pressing the button beside the door. A ring sounded from somewhere beyond it.
He exhaled slowly and waited.
No answer came. He pressed the button again.
This time, footsteps.
"Please hold on a minute!" A woman's voice, asking for patience.
The footsteps grew closer and the door opened partially, revealing a woman framed in the gap.
She had brown hair and light brown eyes, and looked to be around his age, perhaps a year or two older. There was a quietness to her features that he hadn't expected.
"Yes? May I help you?"
'So this is the caretaker…'
He pulled his attention back and placed a hand to his chest.
"Good afternoon. I am Awakened Borsha, from the Government Bureau. Is this the residence of Associate Professor Ivan?"
The woman's eyes widened briefly. Then she opened the door fully and stepped forward into the afternoon light, her tanned skin catching the pale winter sun. She clasped her hands together.
"It is. Is something the matter? Has something happened to him?"
Borsha raised both hands. "No, nothing of that kind. I came to inform you of some matters and to ask a few questions about the professor, if you don't mind."
The woman's shoulders released slightly. "Of course, please, ask whatever you need."
Then, as though the thought arrived a moment late, her expression shifted. "Oh, forgive me, that was rude. Please come inside."
Borsha accepted with a nod and followed her through the doorway.
As he stepped into the entrance hall, the woman bent and placed a pair of indoor slippers at his feet. He looked down at them, then up at her.
She met the look with a small smile.
"Sir Ivan dislikes shoes being worn inside the house. It was something he was quite particular about."
Borsha considered it for a moment before, He removed his boots and stepped into the slippers without comment. The woman straightened, folded her hands in front of her, and dipped into a slight bow.
"My apologies. I should have introduced myself sooner. My name is Olivia."
"Awakened Borsha," he replied. "A pleasure, Olivia. And thank you for having me."
She guided him further inside. The warmth of the house settled over him as they moved through a short hallway and into the living room beyond.
The space was lit softly, a minimalist chandelier overhead casting an even and unhurried light across the room.
Borsha settled onto one of the couches near the armrest. Olivia took the seat across from him.
"Tea or coffee?" she asked.
"Please, you don't have trouble yourself."
"I insist," she said, with a quiet smile that left no room for refusal.
He settled for tea.
On the table between them sat a delicate glass brewing set. As Olivia prepared it, Borsha let his gaze move around the room.
There was nothing ornamental. No decorative pieces arranged for effect, no furniture chosen to impress.
The space said something about its occupant without trying to, which was, in his experience, the most revealing kind of interior.
The soft sound of steeping tea brought him back. He watched as Olivia returned to her seat, the cup placed neatly in front of him, and settled her hands into her lap.
Borsha regarded the brewing tea for a moment before shifting his gaze to Olivia.
Ever since reading Ivan's government file, or at least the portions he had been cleared to access, his thoughts had not quite settled.
Ivan did not look unusual. By mundane standards he was very handsome, though by awakened standards he was not anything to make a big deal out of.
His amnesia, while rare, was not unprecedented. The first nightmare was true to its name, and not every sleeper came back from it with their minds intact.
That part alone would not have given Borsha pause.
What gave him pause was everything else.
Ivan's behavior did not match that of an amnesic patient. There was no disorientation, no reaching, no grief for what was missing.
Almost as though he were not lost in a strange world, but simply getting used to one.
When Borsha had described this to others, they had dismissed it as exhaustion talking. And perhaps they were right. But the feeling had not gone away.
The most honest thing he could say about Ivan was this: he was normal. Almost strangely normal.
He set the thought aside and returned to the room.
Olivia sat across from him, composed and waiting.
He settled into his professional posture.
"Miss Olivia. Are you aware that three months ago, Ivan entered his first nightmare?"
Olivia's brown eyes widened for a moment. Then they dropped, carrying something heavier. Her lips pressed together, the corners trembling faintly.
"I am guessing he did not tell you before he went," Borsha said.
She looked at him with a pained smile that had taken some effort to produce. "No. He did not. I suspected something, but he was never the type to share things with me."
Borsha's brow lifted slightly. "Why not?"
Olivia shrugged, a small and resigned motion. "I don't know. He has always been that way, even as a child."
Cold type, Borsha thought. But with me he seemed perfectly normal. Did the amnesia change his intrinsic personality?
"He must have been difficult to manage," he said, keeping his tone light.
"Not at all." She shook her head. "He was a very filial child. Never caused trouble of any kind. Always mature beyond what his age called for."
"I could believe it. Becoming an associate professor at thirteen is not something you arrive at without exceptional discipline."
Olivia's expression brightened visibly. "Right. You have no idea at my shock, when I learned of it. Children his age were complaining about homework and there he was, standing at the front of a classroom."
"It speaks well of how he was raised," Borsha said.
She flushed and waved it off. "I only did ordinary things. Cooked, kept the house, ironed his clothes. Nothing remarkable."
"You underestimate yourself, Miss. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed you were a fashion model. I might have even taken you for an awakened."
Olivia laughed softly and redirected. The warmth faded from her expression as her concern reasserted itself. "Mr. Borsha. You said three months ago. Where is Ivan now? Where is he currently stationed?"
"I am glad to tell you he has successfully completed his first nightmare."
The relief that moved through her was immediate and physical. Her shoulders dropped. She leaned back against the cushion and pressed a hand briefly to her chest. "Oh, thank God."
"However."
He did not want to shatter her relief, but there was no clean way to avoid it.
Olivia stilled. Her eyes came back to him, focused and careful. "However?"
Borsha exhaled. "He lost his memories. He does not appear to remember anything prior to waking up."
He watched her expression change. The color shifted in her face, and her breathing quickened.
He moved on before it could escalate.
"But he is perfectly stable. He is enrolled at the awakened academy and I have personally sponsored him. He is in good hands."
Olivia stood.
He rose with her on instinct. In the next moment she had crossed the distance between them and taken hold of both his arms, her grip tight and urgent.
"Please. He is at the academy. Please take me to him. I have to see him."
"Miss, the academy does not permit guardians to visit during the final month before the Winter Solstice. I understand, but the rule cannot be bent."
He could feel the tension running through her as he gently guided her back to the couch, settling beside her and speaking calmly and steadily until the worst of it had passed.
When she finally quieted, he exhaled.
On the table, the brewing pot completed its cycle with a soft chime.
"I apologize," Olivia said, leaning forward and pouring the tea with hands that were still not entirely steady. She brought the cup to him.
Her earlier distress caused any mood for tea to disappear, but he accepted without comment and took a sip.
He set the cup down and turned slightly toward her. "I know this is not easy to hear. But he is being looked after properly. You have my word on that as well."
Olivia nodded.
Borsha felt helpless. He returned to his seat and let the quiet settle for a moment.
Then something in the corner of the room caught his eye.
Set into a shallow alcove along the wall was a small table. It sat in shadow, dark enough that he had missed it on the way in.
A wired communicator rested on the surface. Above it, mounted on the wall, was a wooden crucifix.
Without realizing he spoke, the words came before he caught them. "That cross."
Olivia followed his gaze to the alcove. "That is the symbol of the church I serve."
He turned to look at her more directly. "A church. In this day and age."
She smiled. It was a calm and certain expression, untroubled by the question.
"I know how it sounds. People no longer believe in God. But their disbelief does not change what is true. He exists. They are simply unaware of his love."
Borsha shifted in his seat, keeping his tone even.
"Miss, the prevailing understanding is that the gods are dead."
Something changed in her.
Not dramatically. But her posture became very still, and the warmth in her face drew back just slightly, like a tide going out.
"No." Her voice was gentle. Absolutely gentle. And very certain.
"Those are not gods. They are creatures wearing the shape of divinity. Playing pretend."
A small pause.
"God cannot die."
She smiled at him again, warm as before, and reached to refill his cup.
Borsha accepted it and said nothing.
But the skin-crawling feeling he could not name had returned, and he found himself unwilling to look too long at the alcove.
***
"So… you saw yourself wishing a boy happy birthday?" Ivan asked, sounding mildly perplexed.
Cassie nodded her head vigorously as though she was a messenger rabbit bringing important news.
"Hmm." He turned it over quietly. "Interesting."
Amusing as the image was, his thoughts were already moving beneath the surface.
The vision Cassie had just described matched the first recorded interaction between her and Sunny in the novel.
Sunny's birthday fell on the winter solstice, the 21st of December, 2251. There were still roughly four weeks before that date.
Yet Cassie had just described seeing herself wish a boy happy birthday, which raised a question he could not cleanly answer.
Had the original Cassie received this same vision a month in advance?
He would never know. The early parts of the novel had been written entirely from Sunny's perspective, and far too many of Cassie's personal experiences had simply never been mentioned.
He let the question go and turned his gaze briefly toward the food lounge before asking,
"Is the boy black haired, by any chance?"
He already knew the answer. He asked anyway.
Cassie's expression shifted immediately, surprise evident in her face. She had not mentioned any features yet.
"How did you know?"
"Well," he said, adopting his most reasonable tone,
"Statistically speaking, if you gather a hundred people in this part of the world and ask me to guess their hair color, I will be correct roughly ninety times. The odds were always in my favor."
Cassie's expression, which had been hovering somewhere near awe, dropped flat.
She shook her head slowly. "You and your antics."
"Come on," he said. "Admit you enjoyed it. Look at that smile."
"I am not smiling."
"The corners of your mouth disagree."
She could not quite suppress it. The smile surfaced despite her best efforts, and rather than let him have the satisfaction of seeing it fully, she slumped forward and buried her face in her arms.
He watched her in silence, his own expression quiet and warm.
The contrast between this Cassie and the one he had first approached in this very lounge was considerable.
That one had death quite literally showering her with misery. This one was hiding a smile in her sleeves because of a bad statistics joke.
Whatever the counselling session yesterday had done, it had helped quite a bit to accelerate her recovery.
She was simply Cassia again. Cassia before the nightmare.
He observed her without his unique perception, which itself had been occupying a growing portion of his attention since yesterday.
He had learned more about his attributes in the past day than in all the time since arriving.
Outside his aspect, his attributes had been doing considerably more work in the background than he had given them credit for.
He turned them over again.
[ Spectator ], [ Sailor ], [ Bard ], [ Reader ]
He had initially tried to investigate these attributes, however there were no runes nor was there any explanations, it simply was there as unremarkable as its names.
That by itself was unnatural.
That was when noticed a strange synergy, his memories were sharpened to levels he did not know was even possible, he primarily attributed this change to his [ Reader ] attribute.
At this moment he might have the most sharpest memory amongst all awaked under the supreme rank.
Of course, it was not without caveats, his memories of this world were non-existent while his memories of his world remained more vague than he would like it to be.
Alas, that remained his working theory for now.
His other finding however was quite welcomed, [ Sailor ].
His initial thoughts for it like the others were just two words 'mildly ridiculous'. and he treated it as a freebie until the dark of the night.
He had near clear vision in the dark, while not night vision or shadow vision like sunny, it was more than enough for the pitch dark night.
While there was no swimming pool here, he also assumed he might have the ability to swim like an experienced sailor.
His next discoveries were hard to describe. His [ Bard ] attribute didn't make much sense either, but he had noticed a pattern with it, comparing it to video game classes, where a Bard's main stat was Charisma and Adaptability, placing these stats side by side he felt like he connected some dots.
Cassie' kept saying he was strange in some way, thus attributed that strangeness to this Charisma stat. It might unknowingly change his behavioural cues to be more charismatic.
It still remained to see more of its effects. He then turned his focus back to one of the most obvious ones, [ Spectator ].
This did not need any explanation, but it demanded a strange reverence, it was perhaps the Attribute that allows him to see those flying motes of emotions around others, and increases his concentration for every detail that his senses could possibly capture.
And yet there still remains too much unknowns about these attributes, and perhaps the most mysterious of them might be the one known as,
[ Secret Supplicant ].
He has absolutely no clue as to what it is, what it does or even anything to be fair.
he eventually let it go, it felt pointless as there was no progress, he decided to wait and find out as the time went, and right now something else requires his attention.
"Do you remember any other details?" he asked, keeping his tone easy.
Cassie lifted her head. Her unseeing eyes turned toward him, and after a moment her brow drew in slightly. "Not much. Only that he seemed gloomy. Dark hair. It felt like he was tired."
Ivan received this information without ceremony and set it beside what he already knew.
"The winter solstice," he said. "Whoever this person is, their birthday is likely sometime before we enter the dream realm."
As he said that, his eyes moved and landed on a certain silver-haired girl.
She was on a bench several tables away, and had been there even before he and Cassie had arrived.
She was another piece in the puzzle he could not quite piece together.
"Ah, I forgot to mention," Cassie said. "I have an appointment later this evening with the therapist. I might be late for dinner."
"That won't be an issue. I can wait until your session is over."
"Really? You don't have to."
"Eating alone isn't that fun. I would much prefer to eat with someone I know."
Cassie smiled involuntarily before muttering a small thanks.
Ivan lowered his eyes. He was not lying. After arriving in this world, Borsha, Cassie, and a few others had been the entirety of his meaningful interactions, both by necessity and by design.
He was, in a way, monopolising Cassie's attention. Compared to spending time with her, spending time with unknown sleepers felt like a pointless waste.
And so he devoted most of his attention to just her and his immediate situation. Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly, the academy arc was rather stale. It was either eat and sleep. Well, now it was eat, sleep, and prepare.
He sighed. Four weeks. That was how much remained until the solstice, when all the sleepers would enter the dream realm.
And to no surprise, he was growing increasingly nervous, despite it not being obvious outwardly.
"Speaking of sessions, why didn't you tell me about your own session yesterday?" Cassie asked, in a mildly curious tone.
Just then she heard a faint sound, almost like a bird choking on a seed, which prompted her to tilt her head.
On the other side of the table, Ivan straightened and coughed lightly. Images of him bragging to a social worker about giant dinosaurs carrying water guns flashed in a quick montage.
And even now he could hear his beloved Spinosaurus roaring as it charged into battle, water gun in hand.
He regarded the memory with mild awe at his own capacity for bizarre imagery.
May God be with you, my fellow reptilian friend.
He coughed lightly.
"Well, according to them I was quite healthy and did not need further sessions," he explained, then muttered under his breath, "Hopefully."
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
Both of them broke into laughter.
Some moments passed before a certain person settled at the far end of their table. Noticing his presence, Ivan raised a hand and gave a nod. Sunny nodded back, then placed his mountain of a plate on the table and, without ceremony, began eating.
Sunny. He is the silent type. His internal monologue must be running at full volume right now. Ivan thought. Without the assistance of that monologue, the real life Sunny was not particularly interesting.
I wonder what his thoughts are about Cassie, now that I am here.
Curious, he instinctively turned on his vision, letting the world of colors wash into his eyes.
Without making it obvious, he observed Sunny from the corner of his vision. Colors of satisfaction, varying warm hues, and the characteristic flicker of caution floated around him. All expected.
He then turned his attention to Nephis, who was putting her food tray away and walking back to her table.
Ivan's expression broke into a deep frown for one glaring reason. There were no motes of color around her, not even the colorless kind, except for the faint traces that highlighted physical movement.
He bit his lip, the earlier confusion bubbling back. As a reader he had followed multiple character perspectives.
He had a decent understanding of Kai, Effie, Mordret, Sunny, and most importantly Cassie. He had been confident he could read Nephis just as he had read the others.
But observing her now, he could not ascertain anything meaningful. She was like a blank slate simply walking around. Even if something else were wearing her skin, he doubted he would be able to tell.
It was fruitless. For once, his illusion of confidence was broken. It was a useful reminder that while his ability was convenient, it was ultimately limited, and over-relying on it would cost him later down the line.
He let the matter rest, cast a brief glance at the devouring force that was Sunny, and turned his attention back to Cassie.
Not long after, a commotion broke out.
So it is here.
The overhead screens began displaying names alongside forecasted survival probabilities. Nearly a hundred names in total.
Must be the new arrivals and recent intakes.
The crowd erupted. He looked to the very top of the list.
————
1.Nephis [ Changing Star ]
…
————
At least that much has not changed, he noted.
As expected, the crowd split. Some quietly accused her of fabricating, others defended her.
On the side he regarded information, aside from Nephis, Sunless also had a true name, and him too, but his true name was such a bizarre outlier that he felt like even if he told the interviewer they would have thought he was joking instead.
"What is going on?" Cassie asked, following the commotion.
"They released the list for those with the highest projected chance of surviving the dream realm."
"Oh. But why are people arguing?" She turned her head, angling her ears toward the noise.
"They are arguing because a sleeper apparently received a true name."
Cassie's expression shifted into something quietly knowing as she turned her mug carefully in her hands. "Understandable. People are going to accuse you of lying with that kind of result." She offered a small encouraging smile.
Ivan cleared his throat. "Well, it is not me they are arguing about. It is Nephis. Also known as Changing Star."
At that exact moment, Cassie choked on her drink and fell into a fit of coughing.
Ivan's eyes flashed gold. A napkin materialized in his hand and he passed it to her. She grabbed it, pressed it to her mouth, and when the coughing finally cleared she lifted her head. Her eyes flashed with color.
She opened her mouth.
"WHAT THE"
***
Moments had passed since her initial shock.
Right now Cassie and Ivan were seated facing each other with their fingers clasped together on the table.
"I am in the same batch as two monsters of sleepers. Great. What's next, is fate going to tell me she has a divine aspect too?" She scoffed. It was more disbelief than mockery.
Ivan shifted in his seat, loosened his collar, and cleared his throat. "I wouldn't be surprised if she did." He said it with a strained smile.
Cassie's unseeing eyes moved and landed squarely on him, as though she could see him. She cast an unimpressed look.
Sweat trickled down his forehead. He broke the deadlock first. "I am not the one who asked for a divine aspect. It's not like there was some sort of sale on them at the Monday market."
Cassie's head dropped into her cradled arms. "Well, you said she is of the Immortal Flame clan. I suppose that is somewhat believable. Immortal Flame and Broken Swords were legends, so it is only right for her to follow suit." Her voice came out slightly muffled.
Ivan's expression returned to its calm. He leaned back and nodded slowly. "It is strange that a clan of that standing ended up in obscurity."
Cassie shook her head. "It couldn't be helped. From what I have heard, after the death of Broken Sword the Immortal Flame clan slowly lost their hold as one of the great clans.
Everyone thought they would become history. But now it appears that is untrue."
"Right," Ivan agreed quietly.
He already knew most of the truth, especially the secrets of the great clans, at least those that were relevant. But the full truth was something no one would ever be given access to.
No one would have thought to question it. That Broken Sword might have died by betrayal.
He closed his eyes briefly.
All of this was unnecessary for the present. It would be useful later. For now he needed to focus on the immediate problem.
Surviving the Forgotten Shore.
It was a perilous place. One of the best arcs he had read, and that was precisely what made it worse. The horrors waiting on the other side would be unlike anything his mind could have conjured on its own. Any wrong move and it was over.
He breathed out slowly, then glanced at Cassie, who was still buried in her arms. He turned to his side. Sunny was no longer at the table. Nephis was nowhere in the lounge either.
Those two have a way of disappearing without being noticed.
He looked up at the overhead screens.
Right. I never checked my own ranking.
He searched for his name. After a moment he raised his hand and pressed it over his face, massaging his temple.
————
…
97.Ivan
98.Sunless
99.Cassia
————
I really should not have made those dinosaur jokes.
Sunny's and Cassie's spots remained fixed. That at least was something.
He set it aside and turned his thoughts to the weeks ahead. He needed to plan and prepare as much as he could before the solstice.
His eyes flashed gold. A medium-sized communicator appeared in his hand.
After some practice, he had managed to envision mundane daily items with near ease and without suffering major backlash from his flaw.
More importantly, he had developed a method to make the process more manageable.
Three principles, which he had arrived at through a series of small experiments.
The image must be clear.
The structure must be known.
The function must be understood.
These were the simplest rules he had extracted from his trials.
Every successful envisioning followed the same pattern: a clear image, an understood shape, and an understood purpose.
If all three were satisfied, the burden reduced to something closer to a fever headache rather than a genuine loss of control.
If even one was lacking, the process became considerably harder, or it failed outright.
He had attempted to force a few objects into existence without meeting all three conditions.
In those cases, something else appeared to compensate for the missing variable.
He attributed this to his Reader attribute.
It remained the most reasonable explanation, though he still had no thorough understanding of the origins or full properties of his abilities.
For now it was enough.
The discovery of these three factors had opened up a range of possibilities he had previously considered. Beyond basic tools and food, he had identified another category worth giving a chance.
Spelltech.
Technology developed by integrating elements of the spell and other mystical means. Conventional weapons were largely ineffective against nightmare creatures, but spelltech could engage them.
Sunny's cohort member Samara, a ranged specialist, had made use of it.
I should find some resources on spelltech before the solstice.
He made a mental note before turning his attention.
Seeing that it was nearly evening, he helped Cassie to her feet and they headed to their first class together, unaware of the surprising reconsideration waiting for him there.
***
At the training dojo, Instructor Rock stood before two individuals, his massive frame casting a shadow over both of them.
It was still early, and most students had yet to arrive. Those that had were seated in quiet meditation.
Cassie and Ivan stood under the bear-like instructor's shadow. Rock glanced at Ivan, who returned a relaxed smile.
He then shifted his gaze to Cassie, holding it there for a few beats. Motes of pity and surprise drifted around him.
After a moment of silence he asked, "Are you aware of what class this is?"
Ivan replied, "Yes."
Without changing his expression, Rock asked the same question again in the same tone.
Understanding his intent, Ivan nudged the hand holding his.
"Yes!" Cassie replied, her voice clear and firm.
"Alright. You, boy. A minute?"
Rock turned and moved toward the front of the dojo, waiting for Ivan to follow.
Ivan told Cassie to wait by the side, then walked forward and stood beside Rock.
Rock sighed. "Boy. Seeing that you came with her, am I correct to assume you are her partner?"
Ivan nodded.
Rock regarded him for a moment. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
Ivan paused, uncertain how to answer. Then he spoke. "My name is Ivan. As for where I come from, I don't know."
Rock raised a brow.
"I lost my memories after waking up. My sponsor brought me here afterward."
Rock's stalwart expression broke into brief shock before settling back into its usual composure.
He glanced at Cassie, then back at Ivan.
There was a trace of pity in his eyes, and motes Ivan could not yet name with certainty.
Rock breathed out slowly. "Her flaw is a cruel one."
Ivan did not reply.
"We had originally planned to let her go. Let her return to her family in the weeks she has left. But now that she has chosen a course, we have no choice but to train her." Rock explained.
Ivan considered this. "You were not going to train her?"
Rock shook his head. "It is pointless. She will die the moment she is dropped into the dream realm. And if she survives somehow, it will only prolong her suffering."
"That is rather cold," Ivan said.
"But the most probable outcome," Rock interjected, then continued.
"I want her to withdraw. Then I can arrange for her to return home to her family."
Ivan's gold eyes rose to meet Rock's. "Why not let them visit her here?"
Rock shook his head again. "We cannot. Policy. Sending her home is the best I can do."
"Why are you unwilling to train her?"
Rock frowned. "Did you not hear what I just said?"
"I did."
"Then?"
Ivan remained silent for a bit before speaking.
"Instructor, she came here to learn. To learn how to defend herself. It may seem like a pointless exercise, but instead of giving up she mustered the courage to be here. Do you understand what that means?" Ivan let the question sit for a moment.
Rock said nothing. Ivan continued.
"It means she is not willing to go down without a fight. Are you going to extinguish that? Is it wrong to struggle to survive?"
He fell silent.
Instructor Rock studied the boy in front of him and said nothing for a long moment.
Then he returned a question of his own. "Why are you helping her?"
The silence that followed was longer than before. Then Ivan smiled softly. "Because I want to."
Rock's expression shifted into something small and melancholic.
"Boy, I have heard confident words from sleepers like you more times than I can count. Many of them never woke up again. I have watched enough of them walk in with that same fire and not come back. I have no desire to watch more."
He turned slightly, letting Ivan face his profile.
"Withdraw while there is still time. This dojo, I train only those with at least a reasonable chance at survival. And even then, I know many of them will not return."
Ivan surveyed the dojo quietly, after a few beats he said,
"Instructor. Would you like to make a bet?"
Rock's brows drew together. He turned to face the boy fully. Wheat-blonde hair. Gold eyes. An expression that held a strange kind of confidence.
This was the first time anyone had proposed such a thing. He raised a brow.
"It is a simple bet," Ivan said. "A long-term one. Nothing needs to be wagered."
Rock's curiosity sharpened despite himself. "What are you suggesting?"
"In a few years, Cassia is going to become one of the greatest saints in the world." Ivan paused briefly. "Uh- Three worlds, actually."