Arlen dreamed of a soft light.
Not the one from the other world.
Not the one that had torn him away from his life.
It was the light of an ordinary afternoon, filtering through a window left ajar.
His bedroom.
Arlen lay back against the pillows. Yui sat at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, feet hanging in the air. Her hair was loose, slightly messy. She wore one of his old shirts, too big for her.
The light hit her from behind, making her look unreal.
"You never decide anything on your own," she said, leaning slightly toward him. "You always let things happen."
Arlen tried to answer, but in dreams, words were always late.
Yui smiled.
Not her public smile.
The other one.
The one only he saw.
"Come on," she insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. "Say yes for once."
"To what?" he managed.
Yui leaned closer. Her hair brushed against his cheek.
"To living."
The scene changed.
No transition.
Now they were in the living room. The house was quiet. His parents were already asleep. His sister too.
Just the two of them.
Yui sat on the floor, back against the couch. Her knees drawn in, arms wrapped around them. Her hair fell over her face, partially hiding her expression.
Arlen sat in front of her, close—but not too close.
The right distance—the one they always kept.
"We could go to that new place on Friday," she said, not looking at him. "After school."
"Yeah."
"A 'sure' or a real 'yes'?"
Arlen looked at her.
"For real."
Yui lifted her gaze. Her eyes held something he couldn't quite read.
"Then it's settled."
They fell quiet for a moment.
Outside, the world kept going.
Inside, it was just them.
Yui moved.
Not much.
Just enough to lean against Arlen's shoulder.
He didn't pull away.
"Do you know what I like most about you?" she murmured.
"What?"
"That you don't ask me to change."
Arlen closed his eyes.
"I don't want you to change."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
Almost a whisper.
"That's why you're going to come back."
"Even if you have to become someone you don't like."
Arlen tried to respond, but his voice wouldn't come.
Yui looked at him like she already knew.
The words stayed.
Arlen felt something tighten in his chest.
Not pain.
Something else.
Need.
The scene faded.
Then broke.
Arlen's eyes snapped open.
The stone ceiling had no lights. No city noise. Just other people's breathing and the distant murmur of a fortress that wasn't his home.
"Friday…" he murmured.
He pushed himself up slowly. His body still ached from the walk. Something else hurt more.
There was no new place.
No plan.
No Yui.
Only this world.
Sora sat nearby, staring at a piece of bread like it didn't belong.
"Hey…" he said quietly, noticing Arlen was awake. "Good dream?"
Arlen hesitated.
"About someone."
Sora nodded slowly.
"Me too."
Nira was listening from the other side of the room, without looking at them.
"If you dream about home," she said, "it's because you haven't accepted this isn't home anymore."
Sora gave a faint, tired smile.
"Or because we still think there's a way back."
Min-jae stayed silent, leaning against the wall. He didn't speak, but his eyes were open.
He'd been awake the whole time.
Silence fell again, heavier than before.
Arlen clenched his fingers.
Yui didn't let him stay still in his dreams.
Maybe she wouldn't let him stay still here either.
The knights arrived soon after. They didn't shout or bang on doors. They were just there, signaling it was time to move.
"Come with us," one said.
Min-jae was already on his feet. His rigid posture gave him away, but he didn't look surprised.
Just… ready.
Ren stepped forward without being asked.
Arlen followed.
The Second Ring of Valenrith was different from the first.
No children sitting on the ground. No improvised stalls. The streets were wide, clean. The houses rose several stories, with stone balconies and tall windows. Guards patrolled every corner.
There was no hunger here.
There was control.
Arlen felt the looks that followed them. Not fear.
Calculation.
They were led to a building of dark stone, wider than it was tall, without banners or ornament. It looked built to last, not to impress.
Inside, the air felt heavy.
Several figures waited for them.
They didn't look like nobles.
They looked like survivors.
A man with a scar across one eye leaned on a table, arms covered in old marks. Another, older, had hands thick with veins, like every finger had been forced to endure more than it should. A mage, recognizable by the burns along his forearms, watched the group with a calm that wasn't kind.
These weren't bureaucrats.
They were people who had watched the world die.
"So these are them," said the one with the scar. "The outsiders."
Ren stepped forward.
"Ren Ishida. We're the survivors from the village."
The older man studied him.
"You speak like someone who understands his position."
Ren met his gaze.
"I understand that if we're not useful, we wouldn't be here."
A faint silence spread through the room.
"Correct," said the mage. "You weren't brought here to be saved. You were brought here because this world needs resources."
Sora frowned.
"Resources?"
"Weapons," the commander clarified. "Soldiers. Tools. Call it what you want."
Nira crossed her arms.
"And if we don't want to be that?"
The older man smiled, without humor.
"That doesn't change anything."
Arlen felt a chill run through him.
"There will be evaluations," the mage continued. "Not just of power. Of attitude. Of usefulness. Not everyone will receive the same training. Not everyone is equally valuable."
The word hung in the air.
Valuable.
Ren said nothing, but Arlen noticed how several of the leaders watched him more closely. He fit there. In that space of power.
Arlen didn't.
He thought of Yui. The table. Friday.
Her voice, whispering, "That's why you'll make it back."
And for the first time, he understood something with uncomfortable clarity:
It didn't matter how much he wanted to go back. It didn't matter who he had made promises to.
This world had already decided what he was worth.
And tomorrow, he would start proving it.