As I reached the end of the bridge, a man in a sleek black uniform approached us.
I just looked at him, confused ?
"Huh... he looks like someone straight out of Men in Black." I mean, seriously—black suit, shades, emotionless face. Copy-paste.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed him speaking.
"Welcome to the Awakened Academy. And congratulations on surviving your first Nightmare," he said, his voice calm and deep, like he'd done this introduction a hundred times before.
Nephis and I just nodded. One, because I had no idea what to say. And two, because she's the human embodiment of silence. Social battery? Dead on arrival.
"Please, follow me," he added and turned without waiting.
We followed. As we walked toward the southern part of the Academy, I noticed training fields, parks, and other Sleepers like us—training, sparring, laughing. Living.
Three of them were goofing off near a fountain, joking around like they weren't one bad dream away from dying.
'Hmph… I wonder if they'll survive.' For all I know, fate's just waiting to slap them across the face. One day you're laughing with your squad, next day... you're just a name on a forgotten list. Killed in the Dream Realm. Or worse—killed by another Sleeper.
I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. We'd stopped in front of a building—massive, angular, and clearly reinforced with some sort of high-tech alloy.
'Most of the Academy's underground anyway,' I thought. A genius move, really. Efficient space use, and if monsters ever invade, only the surface takes the hit.
As I stepped inside, my eyes darted around the main hall. It was full of teens—good-looking ones, with fresh clothes, luggage, perfect smiles. Most of them didn't look like they'd just fought through a nightmare to get here.
They looked... happy.
'Unlike me. Or her.'
Still, under the surface of some faces, I could see the cracks—nervous smiles, twitching fingers, wide eyes. They were scared. And they should be. In four weeks, they'd be thrown into the Dream Realm.
Most wouldn't come back.
And I knew that better than anyone. Because I'd seen the future.
DUM! DUM! DUM!
My heart pounded like it was trying to break out of my chest.
'Calm down, bro,' I whispered to myself. 'You're not even in the Dream Realm yet, chill.'
I forced myself to breathe and stepped into the room, ignoring the wave of gazes hitting me like bullets. I kept my head down, eyes scanning for a quiet corner.
There. Back-left. Out of sight.
I walked over, every step feeling like it took a year, the weight of their stares pressing into my skin. Once I reached the corner, I froze—motionless, trying not to exist. But they still stared. Judging. Measuring.
'They're probably wondering if I'm worth the trouble.'
I remembered how Sunny had approached people here in the novel. He'd talked to everyone, trying to figure out his Flaw. In return? He got slapped, punched, mocked. Became an outcast on Day One.
But in the end... he figured it out.
'Yeah, I'm not doing that.' I've had enough beatings for a lifetime. I'm not some masochist out here begging for trauma round two.
While I was thinking, I noticed a guy about to walk toward me—but one of his friends stopped him. They whispered something while glancing in my direction.
'You guys know I can see you, right?'
Or maybe they already decided I wasn't worth the effort. Fine by me.
'The more distance, the better.'
I glanced around. Everyone was laughing, chatting, flirting, cracking jokes that were borderline inappropriate. Watching them made something inside me ache.
I wanted that.
I wanted to talk. To connect. To not be... alone.
But I never even got a real childhood. Just memories of getting bullied in the orphanage, adopted by some psycho couple, locked into endless tutoring sessions... only to die at the end of a knife.
And that knife hurt.
'When I died, I didn't want to wake up again.'
But fate's a comedian. Not only did I wake up—I woke up in the body of a novel's main character. A boy who literally can't lie. With a life full of chaos, betrayal, and lot's of blood.
'I know how this story ends. And if that secret ever gets out... I'm done.'
Looking around at all the new Sleepers forming their little cliques, I sighed.
'Silence is safer than spilling truths that will haunt me forever.'
Yeah. That was the plan. No friends. No risks. Just survival. If anyone tried talking to me, I'd just tell partial truths. Close enough to the real deal to work.
And then… I saw her.
Cassie.
The name hit me like acid. The girl responsible for 80% of Sunny's pain.
'And this bastard still forgave her.'
I'm one of the readers who hated Cassie. With Passion. What she did was unforgivable. She deserved every drop of hate she got—hell, she deserved to burn in the deepest circle of the Dream Realm.
Sunny should've killed her.
'Once, He could chalk up to a mistake. Twice, maybe. But three times?' She used him. Manipulated him. Betrayed him. All for her goals—or more accurately, Nephis's goals.
And Sunny just let it slide, and i don't fucking care what anyone says that what she did was for Sunny, to save him and other such bulshit and Sunny only.
My response is this Man fuck you.
She is not gonna get Sunny this time, i mean not me. Not this time.
Whatever. I know the future, and I'll just avoid her like I did with the others.
Her Aspect? She can see other people's Attributes—and even glimpse into the future. Sounds cool, right? Except her flaw is that she's blind, so most people assume she won't last long. Joke's on them.
But luck—or maybe fate—decided to throw her a bone. She met Nephis, the justice-loving idiot with a hero complex, who can't see innocent die and she is also one of the strongest Sleepers in our branch. Naturally, Nephis just had to swoop in and save her sorry ass.
Seriously, why not just let her die?
More than half the problems Sunny and Nephis had to crawl through were because of her. And somehow, she kept dodging consequences like she's got a cheat code activated.
Whatever. I don't care.
With that thought, I snapped my gaze away from her and focused on the man standing on the podium.
"Instructor Rock. The Combat Professor."
I recognized the man standing on the podium immediately.
He was a mountain of muscle dressed in a dark blue uniform—dude looked like someone crossbred a grizzly bear with a drill sergeant. Seven feet tall, broad shoulders, solid build, and a majestic brown beard that screamed "I eat raw steak for breakfast." His eyes were calm, but serious—the kind of gaze only people who've seen too much tend to have.
'In the future, he's going to leave the Academy and become a Master,'
I remembered. ' A legend, honestly.'
As soon as he opened his mouth, the entire room went dead silent.
"I am Awakened Rock. Sleepers, welcome to the Academy."
Standard intro. I'd heard this exact speech before—in the novel. Word for word.
"In less than a month, you will be summoned to the Dream Realm. Some of you might think that you are well-prepared. You're wrong. The Spell is merciless and cunning. The moment an Awakened begins to think too much of themselves, they die. I've seen countless Sleepers like you lose their lives. I've also seen experienced Masters fall. Even Saints are not guaranteed to survive."
He scanned the crowd, letting that sink in.
"You are not children anymore. It's a shame, because you ought to be. But the Spell has decided otherwise. You have all experienced your First Nightmare, so you already know what it's like. Your parents, your teachers, your friends... they can't help you anymore."
'Yeah, well—joke's on you, Rock. I never had parents. Or more accurately—they didn't want me.'
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle into every teenage skull in the room.
And then, just as he moved to continue—
"Now we will talk about the difference between Nightmares and the Dream Realm…"
…aaaand I stopped listening right there.
I'd already heard this monologue in the book. Twice.
Instead, my attention slid to something far more captivating—the woman standing beside the podium.
She is an absolute ten/ten.
Tall. Curvy. Crimson lips. Short black hair. Toned arms. She looked like she could kill me six different ways before breakfast and I'd say thank you after every one of them.
And damn, she was hot.
'Real life goth mommy.' as i was having a fantasy about that women, the women seems to have notice my gaze, as she looked at me with cold eyes, then she suddenly smile.
I couldn't help but shiver. 'did she just read my thoughts' God i hop not.
'But gods are dead.' of this world, i mean.
She then wink on my way, before shifting her gaze to front, like nothing happened.
'Did she just hit on me.'
Am i getting lucky tonight.
I couldn't help but turned my head side away, i mean i don't want to show the huge blush that was on my face.
Then suddenly i don't know why, but a thought hit.
'This is a trap.'
Not because I'm paranoid.
Not because I'm cautious.
But because I know.
In my past life, "getting lucky" meant waking up in pain.
It meant my stepmother's voice whispering lies in the dark.
It meant my stepsister grinning while holding a knife.
It meant my stepfather and his son doing things no one should ever do to a child.
So yeah… trap.
Always a trap.
Trust isn't in my vocabulary anymore (Not that i can speak in my past life anyways).
That woman might be winking now, but behind that smile? It's probably the same twisted hunger.
And I'm not falling for it again.
Never again.
With those thoughts clouding my mind, I tuned back into the speech just as it was wrapping up.
Instructor Rock's voice boomed one final time.
"That is all for today. Next, follow the instructions sent to your communicators to find your assigned dormitory. Once settled, you may proceed to the cafeteria for some late supper. There will be a round of interviews after that, to prepare your suggested curriculums. Get a good night's rest. Your training starts tomorrow."
Short nod. Dramatic exit.
Typical.
The moment he left, the tension snapped like a rubber band. The entire hall erupted into whispers—Sleepers buzzing with excitement, anxiety, or plain disbelief. Some looked like they were about to throw up. Others were grinning like they'd just been handed the keys to paradise.
I, of course, wasn't one of them.
My eyes instinctively flicked toward the woman—the goth.
But she was gone.
Just vanished.
'Good. That's one headache avoided.'
I made my way toward the man handing out communicators. He was calling out names like some bored office worker processing souls at a DMV.
Then I heard it.
"Sunless."
'Yeah Yeah coming daddy~'
I stepped forward and received the device. It was sleek, futuristic—a smartwatch that looked like it belonged in some sci-fi dystopia. Fitting.
Glancing over the glowing display, I ignored most of the filler text and zeroed in on the only thing that mattered—my dorm assignment.
Following the digital directions, I descended toward the lower levels of the Academy. No windows, no crowd, no noise. Just silence, dim lighting, and that eerie hum of electric panels buried in the walls.
When I reached my room, I didn't waste a second.
Door open.
Step inside.
Door locked.
Standard paranoia protocol.
The room itself was surprisingly clean, modern, even… cozy. There was a bed with a soft mattress, a small table, a wardrobe, a private bathroom—hell, there was even a fake window with a screen that showed a snowy landscape, like something out of a winter postcard.
Too perfect.
Too clean.
Like bait.
I opened the wardrobe. Several neatly folded uniforms, all branded with the Academy's emblem. Standard-issue. Free. Polished.
Exactly like in the novel.
'How convenient. How predictable.'
I stripped off the police-issued tracksuit, that last reminder of the life I left behind—or rather, the life that left me behind.
Then I collapsed on the bed. The softness felt like a cruel joke.
A part of me wanted to cry.
Not out of sadness—out of exhaustion.
But I didn't.
I wouldn't.
"If this were a story, what would the readers think of me?"
I chuckled dryly at that thought, then muttered aloud:
"Training starts tomorrow."
Then I closed my eyes.