Knock! Knock!
…
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The sound of unanswered knocks echoed through the silent room.
Ughhh…
On the blood-stained carpet, a figure stirred.
His wheat-blonde hair seemed to glow in the dim light, soft features scrunching as consciousness crept back in.
Uph..
With a groan, Ivan rolled onto his back. His eyes stayed shut, stubbornly chasing the last dregs of sleep, a stark contrast to the crimson-soaked carpet beneath him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The polite knocks had become angry fists.
Ivan's eyes snapped open, pale blue and irritated, catching the dim light of the room.
He hauled himself upright with a grunt.
The blood-stained carpet didn't register, only the dull metallic taste lingering in his mouth and the skull-splitting ache behind his eyes.
He staggered toward the door, one hand pressed to his temple, and pulled too hard.
Whoosh~!
The sudden draft swept his hair back, exposing his pale eyes, exhausted face, and the dried blood crusted at the corner of his mouth.
"What is it?"
His voice rumbled into the corridor, low and rough with irritation. The young man standing on the other side flinched and took an involuntary step back.
He was in his early twenties, with characteristic black hair and dark brown eyes and currently wearing the expression of someone who deeply regretted knocking.
Ivan ignored the metallic tang in his mouth, his patience already gnawed thin by the migraine.
"I don't have all day. Either speak up, or I'm closing the door."
He let the door begin to drift shut.
The young man snapped out of his stupor and frantically waved his hand.
The door stopped. Then swung back open.
"So? Speak."
No warmth. No patience. Just the flat edge of someone at their limit.
Ugh. So annoying.
The migraine was eating what little patience he had left, making it impossible to think straight. Part of him wanted to slam the door in the young man's face.
But something gave him pause.
That's strange. I'm not usually this short-tempered.
His eyes narrowed as a quiet suspicion began to bloom.
He filed it away for later.
"Forget it," he said, lifting his chin slightly. "Get straight to the point."
The stuttering stopped. The young man fell silent, still visibly unnerved but pulling himself together.
Ivan instinctively searched for the faint, colorless motes that usually drifted around people but found none around this one.
I don't know enough about him yet.
The ability was convenient but not unconditional. It required a certain depth of understanding before those motes would appear around a person.
After a moment, the young man straightened up and pulled a sheet of paper from the folder under his arm, holding it out.
"Uhh, I'm the deputy manager for this dormitory complex. Yesterday, we received a request from Awakened Borsha regarding the courses you'll be taking at the academy…"
The deputy manager's words trailed off as Ivan dropped his gaze to the paper, brow furrowed.
The migraine had eased just enough to read.
—————
List of Courses for Sleeper Ivan
Sponsor Awakened Borsha
…
—————
He was mildly surprised.
He mentioned something about upgrading my sleeping pod, but I didn't know he'd done it through a sponsorship. Was that even a thing in the novel?
He couldn't remember clearly. Maybe it had been mentioned, maybe not. Either way, it tracked Master Jet had probably done something similar for Sunny.
The pain was still nagging at the edges of his focus, but he pushed through and read on.
—————
Please select any 2 courses from the following:
Wilderness Survival and the Study of the Dream Realm — [ Instructor: Julius ]
Basics of Combat — [ Instructor: Rock ]
Tactical Leadership and Team Coordination — [ Instructor: Rouker ]
Sleeper's Signature: [ ]
—————
A faint smile crossed his lips at the first option.
It wasn't anything remarkable on its own but as a reader, it had stuck with him. Master Jet had recommended this very course to Sunny, and it had shaped him in ways that mattered.
He could only pick two, which felt oddly limiting. He was about to ask why, when a fresh wave of pain pulsed behind his eyes.
He looked up.
The deputy manager was still talking.
What the—
No wonder his headache was spiking again. The man hadn't stopped once.
Ivan pressed two fingers to his temple and breathed slowly, reining in the urge to simply shut the door. He told himself he'd ask his questions later and turned to step back inside.
Then the manager's hand closed around his left wrist.
Ivan stilled.
The manager wasn't looking at him. His gaze had drifted past Ivan's shoulder into the room to the blood-dark carpet, and the faint iron smell now curling through the doorway.
The colour drained slightly from the manager's face.
"That's — blood. Sleeper Ivan, what's going o—"
The door slammed shut.
Silence.
Both of them stood on opposite sides of the door, staring at it.
Ivan turned around and walked towards the bed while rubbing his forehead, as he reached the bed, he involuntarily covered his nose.
He looked down at the blood, his brows furrowed in confusion..
'What the Hell happened?'
He was visibly confused, so he turned to look at the digital clock.
"Huh?!"
—------------------------------------------
[ 22 / 11 / 2250 ]
[ 09 : 10 : 12 : 54 ]
—------------------------------------------
He was mildly taken aback, he remembered arriving at the dorm around twilight, and.. and..
Ugh!
"This damned headache!", he cursed between gritted teeth.
Then he remembered, "right.. I tried to use [ Envision ].."
Looking down at the dried up blood, he felt slightly bitter, feeling the metallic tang in his mouth, he reflected on the situation.
Sitting on the bed and putting the paper on the side table, he rested his arms on his leg and thought deeply.
"I was too careles… getting carried away by the potential of my aspect and not considering the price my flaw would exact on me, it could be considered incredible luck that I didn't just collapse and die.."
He scanned the room then covered his eyes with his hands.
"I am a transmigrator, as well as the reader of the novel, so how could I have been so careless.. the level between an awakened and a sleeper is extraordinary, if I recall correctly, a normal sleeper can be considered the same level as a top tier athlete, while an awakened would be a true super human.."
"I thought it would be possible to bridge that gap with [ Envisioning ], but I am gravely mistaken.."
He looked at a particular rune.
—------
Flaw: [ Unraveling Mind ]
Flaw Description: [ The more you create, the more you lose control ]
—------
" [ Unraveling Mind ], I underestimated my flaw, it isn't just quantity, it's also the quality and the level of the thing I am envisioning that limits me. "
His pale blue eyes shifted into a hue of gold, standing up, he thought of a set of items, following that in the very next second, a bucket with towels and other cleaning items appeared beside him.
But just as the items manifested, Ivan dropped to one knee with a fierce expression and gritted teeth, the vessels on his forehead threatened to pop like a balloon , as he felt blood attempting an escape through his nasal cavity.
He tried to breathe, but the weight of the pain remained, he felt like his mind was being punctured with a million needles as his body felt like burning, his pale skin had now turned into a shade of red.
This continued for 2 dozen seconds, when he finally stood up, his breath still laboured, and his mind still muddled by the remnant pain.
He felt light headed, it took all his mental strength to maintain everything that he was doing at the moment.
turning he looked at the items he envisioned, There were glowing cracks on them, but with the passing seconds those started to disappear.
"Haah, So [ Envisioning ] ability to create items is directly proportional to my mental capacity, creating even the simplest of items takes considerable effort.."
Picking up the bucket, he concluded his limits, "While it is possible to create mundane items, it should be possible to envision memories, if i put in more effort but envisioning an entire rank or some kind of power up will not end good for me.. and might even kill me."
He thought while looking at the blood stained carpet.
Ivan then proceeded to clean up the mess that he had made.
After finishing, he looked at the clock.
—------------------------------------------
[ 09 : 26 : 06 : 44 ]
—------------------------------------------
After nearly 15 min, he set the envisioned items aside, as he sat on the bed, he observed the items as he relaxed his mind, there was feeling akin to letting go of a tight rope.
Almost immediately, cracks began forming on the items and then as though made from mystical snow, it shattered into flakes and disappeared.
This allowed him to come to another conclusion, "it's possible to train oneself to get more used to the flaw, so.. if i were to regularly use envision, then it's more likely that I would be able to use [ Envisioning ] without needing to collapse to take valuable time getting used to it later.."
"So it's like nephis's flaw, heh".
he let out a deprecating laugh; "Nephis had an overpowered aspect for a sleeper, but her flaw made it almost unusable, but with endurance training Nephis was able to make the most out of it… I suppose I have to do the same thing.."
While his mind was still throbbing with a headache, Then another thought came; "speaking of Nephis, today is the 22nd of november, so Sunny and Nephis, will come tomorrow, that just leaves Cassie.. I couldn't find her yesterday, but she had to be here, she just had to be.."
Cassie was an important character not just the story, but also to Him, she was a character that he could relate with but she was also the character that had helped him overcome his problems in his old reality, this gave Cassie a very special place in his heart, he didn't only like her, he was obsessed with her, and so he was determined to meet her… and to share the burden of the person he so dearly cherished.
Grabbing the course selection paper, he stood up and went out.
His first agenda was to select the courses he would be taking.
Arriving at the Office, he selected his course and gave his signature confirming his subject.
He looked down at the slip.
—————
Course:
Basics of Combat — [ Instructor: Rock ]
Tactical Leadership and Team Coordination — [ Instructor: Rouker ]
Sleeper's Signature: [ Ivan ]
—————
He decided to ditch wilderness survival, primarily because he wanted to avoid contact with the main characters and disrupting the natural development, although he plans to be heavily involved with Cassie, He surmised that it would be acceptable.
This decision is of course most likely due to bias.
After folding the slip and putting it away, he decided to go to the main hall, that's usually the place where the sleepers gather.
Strangely, or not so strangely, the academy and student culture is heavily influenced by Legacy and Noble culture.
Most of the academy sessions usually go to gatherings and briefings, but in truth they are mostly networking sessions for legacy clans, and primarily for cohorts to be formed.
Entering the main hall, the purified air of the hall. Seeped into his lungs washing away the horrible after taste of the air outside.
There were a lot of sleepers, at least several hundred of them.
The hall was spacious as the arched windows poured the morning sunlight, lighting the hall.
There was an elevated podium at one end of the hall with bulky screens hanging around it.
'The timeline is going just as I thought, tomorrow is likely when the final speech and actual training would begin.'
Without further thought, he moved through the crowd and sat at one of the benches provided, slightly far from the main gate.
He kept an eye at the main gate while he casually scanned the hundreds of sleepers that were gathered.
He was feeling a lot of things, just as he did yesterday, people never transmigrated into their favourite story would never understand the bizarre feeling one would get watching these Characters.
However not long after, he noticed an individual, his features were that of east asians but his skin was tan like the south.
ofcourse, it was none other then; Hanli Caster.
'I almost didn't recognize this bastard.. He looks so different from what I imagined..'
He crossed his legs and covered his smiling mouth.
'What was his description in the novel again?'
After attempting to remember the vague details, he gave up as nothing useful came up.
'What a pain.. I lost a very important advantage, had I known I would come here, maybe then I would have paid more attention to the details..'
thinking that he slumped into the back rest..
'Who am I kidding… who could have anticipated this result?'
He split attention between the door, caster and the many sleepers in the hall.
Surprisingly it wasn't too difficult, he strangely thought.
'Is it because of the reader and spectator attributes?'
It was the most logical conclusion. One that was replaced with another restless emotion.
'Where is she??'
It has been more than an hour in that hour, the instructors had come and briefed the sleepers in groups, there were a lot more instructors, which was not surprising.
Most of the instructors that came were for the older batches, those who had awakened months ago.
The instructors for the newest batch like Rock, Roucker and Julius will be present tomorrow.
'I shouldn't be surprised, reality and novels are existences apart.'
"Hey!"
The voice cut through the air, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He turned his head to the left, and there they were, the two sleepers he had met yesterday.
One was a girl of average height. Her dark skin was beautifully complemented by glistening black hair and bright brown eyes, her soft features lending her a quiet, distinctive presence.
'She reminds of someone…', He looked to the Sleeper beside her.
Beside her stood the boy. He had brown hair and dark eyes, his features sharper and fairer in contrast to hers. He was at least 1.75 meters", his eye level meeting mine.
"Luria.. and Hugh?", He asked as though confirming.
At that Luria smiled brightly, "Yes! You remembered!".
"It would have been impolite, If I had forgotten.. that aside, you guys rather early?"
Hugh remained silent but Luria answered slightly appalled by his sense of time, "Early? Ivan.. I think your sense of time is.. impaired somehow… because we are late."
"Late for you… early for me… now that aside, I assume you're of the older batch?"
They both gave him a strange look but Luria slightly shook her head and beamed a smile, "that's right, to be honest, we should have been here by 9 am, but things happened.."
It was the common excuse, whether in the old world or in a novel world, some things don't change.
After a light exchange, Hugh finally spoke up, "Have you decided? On whether to join us?"
This boy was like a statue, who wouldn't talk or move unless absolutely necessary.
It even gave the impression of a valor soldier.
'He is probably sponsored by clan valor or he is a son of some valor person…'
keeping that in mind, he returned an answer.
"I would love to but as I said, I would prefer to join you with my friend.. but I still haven't found them yet."
He turned his head to look around once more.
Cassie was nowhere to be seen and this has left him in a sense of unease, so until then he wouldn't join a group as of yet.
Plus… glancing at the duo from the side of his eyes.
'It would be good if I can get them to accompany Cassie during her time in the academy, she was all alone, so hopefully with him and these two, it should have a positive effect..'
That was why he had partially agreed to this duo's proposition, but without Cassie, it wouldn't amount to anything.
….
'No.. that's wrong, the chances of me ending up on the forgotten shore is extremely low, plus jet's advice cannot be ignored, you cannot survive in the dream realm alone, so I have to make preparations just in case..'
"Perhaps they have not arrived yet?", Luria suggested.
"Highly unlikely, I know that they have arrived here earlier than me.." Ivan replied without looking.
"Have you tried contacting them? Do they not have a communicator?", Hugh asked, his dark eyes reflecting the light.
At that Ivan stopped, closed his eyes and coughed awkwardly. "Well I don't have a communicator and I don't remember her contact information..".
He said while turning his head to the side, as though embarrassed.
The duo looked at him strangely again.
"Well.. do you atleast know how they look? Maybe we might seen them or something?" Luria suggested.
Ivan looked at her, peering into her round brown eyes.
"I am good at remembering faces, if they have come to the academy, then I most likely have seen them.." Hugh suggested as well.
Following their suggestion, colorless motes began appearing around them.
Ivan's brows raised slightly at the sudden change, 'I am starting to understand what kind of people they are..'
The corner of his mouth raised slightly.
"Well, since you suggest… She is a girl about 1.6 meters tall, has blonde hair and blue eyes… Does that ring any bells?"
At his description, both Luria and Hugh fell into silence, Luria closed her eyes while pondering, while Hugh rubbed the chin with furrowed brows.
In the end, both of them shook their heads. This did not help Ivan's restlessness though, but he didn't show it.
"I am sorry, I can't recall seeing anyone like that.. people with those features are hard not to notice, so it's likely they did not come.." Luria apologized.
Hugh remained silent, his answer likely the same.
Sighing deeply, Ivan didn't say anything and only watched the sleepers in the hall.
In a few short moments Hugh got closer and handed a small paper, with details on it.
"This is the class and the time it will end, we should confirm our members soon, so if you find your friend, come at this time and we will handle the rest.."
"Yes! You don't have to worry though, this is just tradition, there is no guarantee we will end up in the same region of the dream realm, but it will help us after we awaken, such as becoming like the legendary broken swords cohort!" Luria excitedly assured him.
Hugh shook his head slightly, "We will have part ways for now, we will have to attend our classes".
Saying that Hugh nodded at Luria and walked away. Luria followed in a hurry.
But before she left, "Also please don't be forced to accept our invitation, if you don't want to join, you don't have to, okay? Byee!"
saying that she ran behind Hugh with a beaming smile.
Throughout the exchange Ivan didn't say much, but he did observe them well.
While Hugh remained stalwart, the motes around Luria began showing very faint colors, though it was too faint to actually notice.
Without further comment, he turned at the hall, with no sight of Cassie, he decided to keep it here, classes would start the day after anyways..
'I might as well explore more of this place..' thinking that, he strided past the sleepers and left the hall.
Not long after he left, a silhouette of a girl entered the hall.
She wore a modest dress, and her hair was combed neatly and tied back.
However, she could not see, so she used the walls to support her way around the hall.
But just as the girl entered, the once bustling hall dropped into dead silence.
The girl shivered, but didn't stop walking, using the walls as a guide.
And around her all sleepers simply stared in silence.
In utter and complete silence…
***
'Bleugh!'
Ivan walking the area outside the academy felt like puking, he wanted to spit at every moment, but decided to maintain some sense of manners.
'I swear the air tastes like dog vomit..'
Of course it was an exaggeration , but he couldn't help it.
looking at the sky, which was strangely clear today.
'I should get some lunch..'
He didn't eat breakfast, so he thought of enjoying his lunch to the fullest.
Returning to the academy grounds through the gates, he headed for the hall where the food lounge connected to.
Approaching the hall, he felt a sudden sense of incongruity. As though something felt missing or had forgotten.
However the feeling was only momentary, as it subsided soon enough.
Entering the hall there were less sleepers right now, and looking across at a double door leading to another place where the noise of chattering could be heard.
The Food Lounge.
Without any thought, strode towards the food lounge in haste as though making a final pilgrimage.
Upon entering, he was greeted by a flurry of flavourful aroma's.
'The future of this world may be done for, but the food will always remain constant.. hehe', he commented internally.
But exactly at the moment, the thought of food vanished.
As he stared at a secluded corner..
There, loose strands of gold fluttered in the wind..
At one of those tables near the windows in the secluded corner was a girl, flocks of gold hair cascading down like a waterfall, she wore off white modest dress, A simple dress but in his eyes it could be mistaken for a dress made for a goddess.
It was Cassia, The yet to be named 'Song of the Fallen'.
Breaking his gaze, he staggered back before hastily ran out the Food lounge and hid beside the doorway..
His face was shaded red, his expression was unreadable but one could hear laboured breaths.
He gently placed his hand over his chest, feeling his raging heart beat.
Combing his hair back with his fingers he smiled, a smile whose emotions could not be described.
He peered from the side of the doorway, at the girl seated at that corner.
It was.. Cassie..
It was Cassie!
'It had to be her.. there is no mistaking it…'
Turning back, he slumped down.. many things were happening around him, but couldn't damn about any of it.
as only one stream of thought raged down his soul..
'I have been looking all over… and I finally found you..'
It was impossible to describe the torrent of emotion raging in his mind and soul, but one emotion was clear, one that was born from his love and obsession.
He was Glad and He was Happy.
***
Not long after he got up and entered the Food Lounge once more.
He did not go to Cassie just yet, rather he went to the buffet selection.
Glancing from the side of his eyes at where Cassie was seated, and he did so with a somber expression.
Perhaps of all the characters in the novel, he knew Cassie the most, if there was anyone he knew more than himself, it had to be Cassie.
But because he knew her so well, the usual motes that floated around people were most dense around her, a reflection of his understanding of her.
He could not describe what he was seeing nor what he himself was feeling but at this moment, the motes swirling around Cassie were pitch black.
The pitch motes circled around her like a hurricane or like a swarm of locusts threatening to consume everything, but more than that was the feeling that was being exuded.
The buffet Selection was quite far from where Cassie was seated but even from this distance, he felt suffocated and dreadful.
Turning his attention back at the selection of food, he grabbed two plates in a tray.
Cassie was seated alone, there was no food in front of her, despite her peers around her, having their tables filled to the brim with various dishes.
Focusing on the selection, he served several dishes on to the 2 plates carefully, He did not take anything that would be difficult for Cassie to eat.
After several minutes he settled with what resembled Katsu curry with rice.
Grabbing 2 bottles of water onto the tray, he turned on his heels and walked to where Cassie was seated.
She lay with her head cradled in her arms on the table.
she would have appeared so peaceful had the raging storm of pitch black motes not been raging around her.
Ivan arrived at the edge of the raging storm of emotions.
His mind had long silenced out everything around him the moment he saw Cassie, so he could not perceive what others were seeing or what he was doing.
All he did was stare at the raging storm, he bit his lips while doing so.
To others it would appear mildly bizarre, as a strange boy simply stood staring at nothing, lost in thought and appearing troubled.
but to Ivan, he was doing his best not to be consumed by the emotions affecting him.
He looked at the blonde girl and a sad expression flashed across his face, his heart did not question and his mind did not waver.
He walked forth through the storm of emotions feeling every bit of despair and sadness weighing against his soul, but he walked nonetheless.
In moments, he arrived at the table. Gently setting the tray down, he sighed a breath of relief. Cassie had not noticed his arrival; her head was still down.
Ivan's soft gaze rested on her blonde hair, then on her resting figure.
Before sitting, he lightly tapped her shoulder, causing her to shudder awake.
For the first time in his two lives, he saw the face of the character he cherished up close.
Her face was slightly rounded, with a pair of blue, unseeing eyes that held a strange, ethereal beauty. From the side, locks of gold nestled against her soft face as though framing a delicate jade.
She was more beautiful than he could ever have imagined, let alone describe. With every passing second, his heart skipped two beats.
The girl raised her head, mild surprise evident in her expression. Removing a few strands of hair from her soft pink lips, she turned in the general direction from which the taps had come.
***
She had her head down, cradled in her arms, she let the chatter in the background blur out as she delved into her own thoughts.
There wasn't anything in my mind at that moment, except darkness, endless blackness laced with the despair and agony of her pleas and cries.
It had been over a week since she had completed her first nightmare, but upon awakening like anyone she was granted power.. power to transcend the limits of mortality.
And she was granted power, not just any kind, she was granted a Sacred Aspect, an aspect related to Seers and Revelations.
When she first saw it, she was shocked, unable to form words. Rightfully so, no one in history had ever acquired a Sacred Aspect, an aspect said to be second only to the theorised "Divine Aspects".
Her shock was soon replaced and she began feeling ecstatic, excitement filled her veins as was an expected reaction.
But this would not last longer as almost immediately when her life brightened, The Spell as if playing a cruel joke, declared her flaw.
The bright world that had expanded for a few moments was soon replaced by pure unchanging black…
A trembling exhale, caught halfway between a breath and a whimper- like someone trying to hold the world together.
The memories of the past few days flashed in rapid successions.
Her waking up in screaming terror, Images of her Mother barely tightly hugging her and assuring the world to her, But all that came were the screams and sobs of a girl whose world had lost its light.
After awakening, she could feel her body physically changing, she could crush almost anything with her bare hands which would have been impossible for her past self.
however it did not bring her joy anymore, she spent days stuck in her room, begging to whatever god or demon that could hear her pleas, she begged and pleaded for sight to be returned, to no avail.
She knew that once a flaw is gained you can no longer remove it, it will forever accompany you until death arrives.
Soon her tears stopped, replaced by only 1 thought, but she did not want to do it with her parents near her, so she chose to come to the academy with one resolution .
She would walk to her death by herself. Until..
Tap.. Tap..
Someone tapped on her shoulder. With a slight jolt she raised her head in surprise, her breath catching. She tried to see who it was but as always, the black expanse remained, vast and indifferent, reminding her of what she had lost. She brushed the strands of hair from around her lips and turned toward the presence she could feel nearby.
Then, as though by instinct, golden runes bloomed in the darkness before her.
——
Attributes: [ Spectator ], [ Secrets Supplicant ], [ Sailor ], [ Bard ], [ Reader ].
——
Her brows rose sharply.
Five attributes? She almost forgot to breathe. Is that even possible?
Before she could spiral further into the thought, the stranger spoke.
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
"Oh! U-uh.. Of course, please—"
The words stumbled out before she could stop them, and she immediately pressed her lips together, heat crawling up the back of her neck.
'By the gods…'
She exhaled slowly through her nose.
'Is that really how you talk to people? He barely said a sentence and you fell apart. Get your act together.'
She straightened her back.
You're fine. You're completely fine. Just act normal.
A beat of silence settled between them, and she used it to compose herself, smoothing her expression into something that she hoped read as calm and not as the barely held together thing it actually was.
Then the stranger spoke again.
"Thank you."
It was a simple thing to say. Two words. She had heard them thousands of times in her life.
But his voice—
It was quiet and unhurried, carrying no edge of pity, no careful over-softness that people tended to use around her lately, as though she were made of something brittle. It was just… steady. Like something solid in a room full of things that moved.
She found herself tilting her head slightly toward the sound of it without meaning to.
That's.. she caught herself. That's a very strange thing to notice.
"Please don't mention it," she replied, and was relieved that her voice came out even.
She heard the heavy thump of a tray on the table, followed by the warm smell of food drifting toward her.
Was there no other table available?
She tilted her head slightly, listening to the quiet bustle of the food lounge beyond the corner.
It was large, she had gathered that much from the way sound moved through it when she had first found her way in.
So why here?
From what little she had gathered since arriving at the academy, most sleepers spent their time gravitating toward people they intended to team with before the winter solstice. Networking, sizing each other up, performing confidence they may or may not have had.
This secluded corner was the last place someone with those intentions would choose.
She almost asked. But it felt inappropriate, so she kept it behind her teeth.
"I saw that you didn't have any food in front of you." The same steady voice from before. Unhurried.
"It's lunch time, so I figured you'd be hungry."
"Huh?"
"I brought you some food." She could sense the faint shift of plates being set in front of her, the warmth of the meal reaching her.
"I didn't know what you preferred, so I brought a little of everything."
A beat of silence.
"Oh- you really didn't have to do that," she said, and meant it.
"It's fine."
"No, really, I-"
"Eat," he said simply. Not unkind. Just certain in the way that left little room for argument.
She pressed her lips together.
She wanted to refuse. Some part of her felt the familiar pull of not wanting to owe anyone anything, not wanting to be someone's charity case, not wanting the quiet weight of gratitude to settle on top of everything else she was already carrying.
But beneath that was something guiltier, quieter. The smell of the food in front of her made her realize she hadn't eaten since yesterday.
Fine.
She exhaled and reached forward, hands moving carefully across the table to find the edge of the plate. Her fingers traced the surface slowly, measuring the surface.
Then her knuckles caught something, and she heard the slosh of water before she could stop it.
She flinched, hand jerking back.
But the bottle didn't fall.
A second of silence stretched between them.
Then she felt it… a hand, closing gently around hers. Not grabbing. Just guiding her hand slowly, deliberately, back toward the table and repositioning it closer to the plate.
"That's a really cruel flaw."
It was said quietly. No performance behind it.
She hadn't expected it.
She had expected pity. She knew the shape of pity, the over-soft voice, the careful pauses, the way people looked at her, or rather looked around her, as though she were a wound they were afraid to name directly.
This wasn't that.
She tried to keep her expression still, but something in the words had found the exact place she had been pressing down hardest, and her lips curved without permission, curling inward as she bit down on the lower one lightly.
"…Yes." The word came out smaller than she intended. Deflated. The composure she had rebuilt so carefully in the minutes before cracked.
"…I'm sorry."
His voice had changed. The steadiness was still there but something had settled beneath it, something heavy and genuine that she couldn't quite name. It didn't sound like the apology people offered when they didn't know what else to say. It sounded like it cost him something.
She didn't respond.
A moment passed. Then she felt the cool handle of a spoon placed carefully into her palm, his hand briefly folding her fingers around it. His other hand found hers and guided it gently to the rim of the plate, anchoring it.
Then he let go.
"Eat something," he said. Quiet. Simple.
She sat there for a moment with the spoon in her hand and the warmth of the plate beneath her fingers.
Then, without a word, she did.
Moments passed. Neither of them said anything.
She focused on the food in front of her, using the silence to collect herself, but her mind had other plans entirely. Thoughts arrived in clusters, tripping over each other before she could sort through any one of them properly.
Who is this person? Why did he sit here of all places? What do those attributes mean? Should I ask? Is it rude to ask? Is it rude not to?
She tried to swallow the questions along with her food.
The meal was simple, she noticed. Everything was arranged so that a spoon was enough.
She was halfway through the plate when it struck her like a bucket of cold water.
I never asked for his name.
She almost choked.
Does he think I'm rude? Has he been sitting there this entire time thinking I have absolutely no manners? She internally lamented, spiraling briefly. Then again, he never asked for mine either. So doesn't that make him just as rude? No, wait, he brought me food, so the social calculus there is completely—
She straightened up and cleared her throat.
"I didn't ask earlier," she said, raising her head toward his general direction. "But may I know your name?"
She heard a short cough from across the table.
"Right.. I apologize, I should have introduced myself sooner." A brief pause. "My name is Ivan. You could also call me by my true name… Adam. But I would prefer Ivan."
The spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered softly against the plate.
Her jaw had dropped approximately half an inch before she caught it. She was fairly certain her face was doing something deeply undignified, a full arrangement of shock and bewilderment that she couldn't arrange into anything more composed.
Her unseeing eyes fixed on the space where he was seated, her thoughts grinding to a complete halt.
A true name… a true name? He's a sleeper, isn't he? He said he arrived yesterday. But sleepers don't — that's not — has that ever even—
She closed her mouth. Lowered her head. And asked, very quietly, "You're a sleeper, right?"
A muffled chuckle came from across the table.
The heat arrived at her cheeks almost instantaneously. She coughed once, sharply, as though that might help.
"Yes," he confirmed, his tone still carrying that faint amusement. "I arrived yesterday."
"Oh…"
She had no follow up. She turned back to her food and did not speak for a moment, using the time to glance inward at the golden runes still floating in the darkness of her vision.
Five attributes. And now a true name on top of it.
She had never heard of either occurring in a sleeper. She wasn't entirely certain it had ever occurred in an awakened. Maybe a master, perhaps, but a sleeper who arrived yesterday?
And yet his true name was Adam. And his attributes, each one felt, she searched for the word.. ordinary?.
Nothing that announced itself loudly. Nothing that made the air change around it the way some aspects did.
Just what kind of first nightmare did he go through to end up like this?
She couldn't imagine it. Whatever trial had produced this result must have been something else entirely.
"What's your name?" Ivan asked.
The question landed simply, no ceremony behind it. And yet she felt suddenly, uncomfortably small.
Her sacred aspect sat quietly inside her, something rare and significant by any measure. She was abruptly aware of the comparison in a way that she hadn't asked to be.
But she answered anyway.
"Cassia. You can just call me Cassie." She offered a small smile in his direction. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." She could hear the quiet sincerity in it. "Now let's eat while the food's still warm."
"Actually—" She hesitated, then pressed on. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why is your true name Adam?"
"Hm?"
"It's just.. true names are usually…" She searched for how to phrase it without sounding dismissive.
"They tend to be poetic. Or dramatic. Like Wake of Ruin, or Sky Tide, or Immortal Flame. Names that scream something. But Adam is just…"
"Ordinary?" he finished for her.
"…Yes."
"Hm." He seemed to genuinely consider this. "Now that you mention it, I don't know either. Usually the awakening reveals some kind of explanation, but mine was just blank."
"Just… blank." She turned that over. "That's strange."
"It is."
"And your attributes are also kind of—" She caught herself and shut her mouth.
A beat of silence.
"You can see my attributes?" he asked.
She closed her eyes, an old reflex, the kind the body holds onto even when it no longer serves a purpose and braced herself.
You've done it now, Cass.
She had spent enough time to know how sensitive most of them were about their runes. Some treated it as a violation. Some reacted with anger that was entirely disproportionate and entirely expected.
She had just forgotten, for a moment, sitting in this corner with this stranger and his steady voice, that the usual rules still applied.
She nodded once, chin dipping. She waited for the sharpness to arrive in his tone.
"That's cool."
She blinked.
"Quite a rare ability too," he added, sounding genuinely interested rather than anything else.
"…You're not angry?"
"No? Should I be?"
"Well, yes, obviously." She straightened slightly, caught off guard enough that the words came out more plainly than she intended. "Awakened are very sensitive about their runes being seen without permission. That's fairly basic."
"I suppose," he said, and she could hear that he was genuinely unbothered rather than performing it. "But I actually lost my memories before I awakened, so I'm missing some of the basic cues on things like that."
Silence.
A long and somewhat terrible silence.
Oh.
She set her spoon down carefully.
Losing your memories before awakening meant arriving in a world that already expected you to know the rules of it, with no map, no reference point, no one whose face you could place. It meant every interaction carrying an invisible weight of things you didn't know you didn't know. It meant—
She felt suddenly and acutely horrible.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said quietly.
"Don't be," he replied, and there was no performance of resilience in it. He simply seemed to mean it.
"Surprisingly it hasn't affected me as much as I imagined. A bit inconvenient, but…"
"What about your family? Friends? Home?"
He was quiet for a moment. She waited.
"I don't know," he said at last. "I woke up in a police station. They didn't mention anyone coming forward, so I assume there isn't anyone."
A short, soft sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "Maybe that's why it doesn't bother me as much as it probably should."
"But still…"
"As for your question about the attributes," he continued, redirecting gently, "they're strange individually. Nothing remarkable on their own. But together they seem to… complement each other in ways I haven't fully worked out yet. There's some kind of synchronized benefit I haven't figured out."
"Oh…" She turned it over. "That does make a kind of sense, I suppose."
She heard the quiet slide of his tray being moved to one side.
"Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"
"Haah." The exhale came out longer than she meant it to. "What do I even say…"
"You could start with hobbies, per—"
He stopped.
"What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing." A brief pause. "Just felt like I was being watched."
She was quiet for a moment. Then the corner of her mouth pulled into something that was almost a smile, though it didn't quite reach.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"…What?"
"You're sitting with a blind girl," she said plainly. "That's what."
Silence continued.
"It must have been hard."
It was a simple reply. Common, even. The kind of thing people said when they didn't know what else to offer. But there was something underneath it that she couldn't quite dismiss, a weight to it that didn't feel borrowed or rehearsed.
He didn't pity her. He simply understood, or came close enough to it that she couldn't tell the difference.
She painted a small smile. "Yes… yes, it was."
For a while she had almost forgotten. Sitting here, talking with him, the weight had shifted somehow.. not disappeared, but redistributed, made briefly bearable. And then the reminder pulled it all back at once, and it was worse for having been lifted.
"Did they… mistreat you?" He sounded hesitant now, as though he wasn't sure he had the right to ask.
"No." She shook her head slightly. "And they don't need to. It's just myself, and what's to come."
The meaning needed no elaboration. She was blind. While other sleepers gathered in halls and lobbies forming teams and cohorts, trading names and measuring each other up, she sat in corners and waited.
The dream realm did not accommodate weakness. It did not make exceptions. It asked one thing of the people who entered it — survive — and being blind meant the answer to that was already written.
She knew it better than anyone.
No one would carry her. They were too busy trying to save themselves, and she could not fault them for it. She doubted she would have been any different, in their place.
But she still wanted to live.
She wanted to survive, wanted to go home, wanted to sit in her mother's kitchen and hear her father's voice from the living room, and tell them both she made it. Most of all, beneath everything else she had buried and compressed and refused to name out loud.
She was afraid.
Then something rested on her head.
She startled slightly, going still.
When did he—
A hand. Patient and unhurried, patting her head with the kind of steadiness that didn't ask anything of her in return.
"You must have been very scared," he said softly.
Something in her chest cracked along a line she hadn't known was there. She felt the grief shift, not vanish, but rise to somewhere it could be seen.
She lowered her head.
"Yes," she said, and her voice was smaller than she intended. "I'm afraid. I -I don't want to die."
She had said it. Out loud, to a stranger she had met less than a few minutes ago, she had said something she hadn't been able to say to anyone until now.
"Yes," he replied, and his voice had gone quiet and distant, carrying something melancholic that she couldn't place. "And you should not die either."
She invisibly frowned. There was something strange in the way he said it. Something that went beyond sympathy, as though he had already sat with this thought and grieved it, before today.
That didn't make sense. They had never met.
She was still turning it over when he spoke again.
"I suppose no one has asked you this before, but…" A pause. "Would you like to team up with me?"
The air left her lungs.
She sat very still. The sounds of the food lounge continued around them, distant chatter, the scrape of chairs, the ambient noise of a hundred people existing and none of it registered.
She almost turned to check if there was someone beside her. Some other person he might reasonably be addressing. Because surely…. surely he couldn't mean her.
No one in their right mind would choose a blind partner. Even generosity had its limits, and the dream realm was not a place where generosity survived first contact with reality.
She was a liability, a word that meant exactly what it felt like a cost that would be paid in someone else's survival.
So why…
"Why?" She couldn't form a longer question. But she had to ask.
"What do you mean, why?" He sounded genuinely confused, as though the question didn't quite make sense to him.
"Don't be silly, you know what I mean." She straightened slightly. "I'm blind. I would only be a burden. I can tell you're strong, so you should be teaming up with someone who can actually—"
"And who are you to decide that?"
He didn't sound displeased. But there was something firm in it, a question that wasn't really a question.
She opened her mouth then closed it.
"Firstly," he continued, his tone evening out again, "I believe in reciprocity. Equal exchange. My decision isn't random. In exchange for a difficult flaw, I believe the power you carry is equally remarkable, even if we don't fully know it yet."
She was quiet. She couldn't dispute the logic of it. Sacred aspects were not given without weight on the other side of the scale. She understood that. But the benefit he described existed in theory. In practice, in the dream realm, how much of that would survive contact with what was actually out there?
"What's your second reason?" she asked.
"Well, secondly… I simply want to." He said it plainly, the way one might state a preference for tea over coffee. "As simple as that."
Cassie's brows rose. She sat with that for a moment.
Then she laughed. A short, baffled sound. "That's beyond unreasonable."
"Really? I consider myself to be the most reasonable person alive." A beat. "In three worlds, even."
She tilted her head. "Are you perhaps one of those very poetic souls?"
"Who knows." She could hear the smile in it.
She exhaled, somewhere between exasperated and genuinely amused for once.
"So is that a yes?"
"I will be a burden. You'd really take me in?"
"Yes." No hesitation. "I'm not really a fighter, but I'm capable enough to hold a line. And my aspect is well suited to the dream realm. Between the two of us, I'd say we have a reasonable chance."
She sighed. Long and resigned and secretly, in some deep and quiet place she hadn't visited in a while, something adjacent to relieved.
"Haa… I don't have much of a choice, do I." It wasn't quite a question. "I'm in. I'll be in your care."
A firm pat landed on her head.
Does he just do this to everyone? she thought, somewhere between offended and oddly comforted.
"So what's the plan?" she asked.
"For now, you finish your food. It's almost cold."
She blinked. Of all the things he could have said.
"…That's your plan."
"It's a good plan."
She located the spoon and resumed eating. After a moment, "You're done eating?"
"Yep."
"So you're just going to sit there and watch me eat?"
"I have water to eat."
"Pff—" She pressed her lips together. "You eat your water?."
"I find it deeply fulfilling."
"You're very strange, Ivan."
"You're the second person to tell me that today."
"I don't believe that. I think the number is much higher and people are simply being polite."
A short laugh came out, and despite everything, she found herself smiling into her food.
After the laughter faded, a comfortable quiet settled between them.
"Which courses did you end up selecting?" he asked after a while.
Cassie paused mid-bite. "…I didn't."
"You didn't pick any?"
"For obvious reasons," she said simply, and reached into the fold of her dress, producing a slightly crumpled sheet of paper and setting it on the table in front of her.
"They gave me the form when I arrived. I've been carrying it around since."
Ivan was quiet for a moment. She could sense him looking at it.
The paper read:
———
Please select any 2 courses from the following:
Wilderness Survival and the Study of the Dream Realm — [ Instructor: Julius ]
Basics of Combat — [ Instructor: Rock ]
Tactical Leadership and Team Coordination — [ Instructor: Rouker ]
Sleeper's Signature: [ ]
———
He considered it.
Wilderness Survival was the obvious choice for her, in theory. Julius's course was sharp and the course was foundational.
But in the novel, Cassie hadn't appeared in that class. He was fairly certain of it. And he had already decided mostly that he didn't want to pull too hard on threads the story hadn't pulled.
There had to be a reason for her absence there, even if the novel hadn't bothered to explain it.
He let it go.
"Would you mind if I put your courses the same as mine?" he asked.
"No, go ahead," she replied without hesitation.
He glanced at the paper again, then, almost as an afterthought, "Do you have any experience with combat?"
Cassie tilted her head slightly. "Some. I practiced with a rapier during school. Basic footwork, form, a few years of it. And some general training after."
A small pause. "Nothing exceptional."
A rapier.
That works.
"That's more than enough," he said, and meant it.
He reached across and carefully guided the paper toward himself, selecting Combat and Tactical Leadership, and then paused before the signature line.
"I'll guide your hand for the signature."
"Alright."
He found her hand and moved it gently to the line, keeping his grip steady and unhurried until she had signed.
He set the pen down and slid the completed form to one side.
"Done," he said simply.
Cassie settled back in her chair, the faint tension in her shoulders easing by some small degree.
"Done," she echoed quietly.
***
Ivan returned from the dirty plates bin and settled into the seat beside her rather than across.
"Now what's the plan?" Cassie asked. She sounded different from when he had first sat down, not light, exactly, but less compressed.
"There are two people I'd like to meet," he answered.
"Two people?"
"I ran into them before coming here. Two sleepers, I'd like to see if they're interested in joining us."
She lowered her head. The black motes that had surrounded her like an omen when he first approached had long since thinned.
What remained was a dull grey shot through with other colors he couldn't fully differentiate yet, uncertain, guarded, but warmer than before. She was doing better. Not well. But better.
"I don't know if they'd want me in a cohort," she said quietly.
He gave her one light pat on the head.
"Why do you look so down? You have me now." He said it simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Don't worry about that part, I'll handle it. And even if they decide not to join, shouldn't we at least try to build some connections? It won't cost us anything to try."
She was quiet for a moment. "Well… you're not wrong." Her expression was still uncertain, but her lips relaxed into a small, hesitant smile. "I suppose it won't hurt."
"Exactly." He stood up. "Then let's go."
She rose as well, reaching instinctively toward the table's edge to orient herself.
"Here." He appeared beside her and extended his hand without ceremony.
"I'll guide you."
She stilled for a beat, something moving briefly across her expression. Then she reached out and took his hand.
"…Thank you," she said.
"Don't mention it."
They walked out of the food lounge together, back through the main hall and out into the corridor beyond.
Ivan pulled the slip of paper Hugh had given him from his pocket, scanning it as they walked. A classroom number. A course's end time. He looked up and found a digital display mounted on the wall nearby.
———————————————
[ 10 : 58 : 36 : 25 ]
———————————————
About seventeen minutes. He folded the paper back into his pocket.
"We'll need to wait a little," he said. "The class isn't out yet."
"That's fine."
He guided them to a spot near the classroom door in the corridor. They stood together, and after a moment, settled into easy conversation in the way that had started to feel surprisingly natural.
"Do you have any siblings?" he asked.
"Hm? No. Only child."
"Any hobbies?"
"Well, I mentioned the rapier." She tilted her head slightly. "I fenced quite a bit, actually. Other than that I mostly spent time with friends, or reading novels, comics, that sort of thing. On the Net."
"Novels?" His tone shifted immediately. "What kind?"
Cassie's posture changed. A subtle thing, her shoulders drawing in the way they do when someone is bracing to defend a slightly embarrassing position. "Ah, well you see, they're quite niche. I don't think you'd—"
"I feel like I was a fairly serious novel reader myself, so I'd probably—"
"No." She said it with sudden conviction. "No, Ivan, you don't understand. When I say niche, I mean genuinely, specifically, deeply niche. The kind of thing where the fandom is twelve people and they all know each other by username."
"That sounds like exactly the kind of thing I'd enjoy."
"It is absolutely not—"
The classroom door burst open.
Sleepers poured out into the corridor in a wave of noise and varied faces. Ivan blinked. "Looks like they finished early."
Beside him, Cassie exhaled quietly, a small sigh that dissolved into the surrounding chatter.
The novel conversation isn't over, he noted internally.
It didn't take long to spot them. Hugh's height and bearing made him easy to find, and Luria's energy was its own kind of beacon.
"Hey—" Ivan raised a hand.
Luria's face lit up as she spotted him, already moving forward. Hugh followed with his usual measured pace. They were nearly within speaking distance when Ivan stepped slightly aside.
"This is Cassie," he said, and his voice carried the easy confidence of someone introducing people he expected would get along. "Cassie, these two are Luria and Hugh."
He was about to say more.
Then he saw it.
It happened in less than a second.
The motes he had grown accustomed to reading , the sparse, mostly colorless drifts that surrounded people until he understood them better, suddenly surged. From every direction at once, an enormous flood of them crashed over Luria and Hugh like a silent wave breaking against a shore.
An uncountable mass, more than he had ever seen congregate in one place at one time. Completely unlike the black storm that had surrounded Cassie.
And then they vanished.
As though they had never been there.
And so did everything else he had been reading from the two of them. The colors, the usual ambient drift, gone. He found himself looking at two people who felt, in the strangest way, like strangers.
He hadn't finished his thought before Hugh spoke.
"I have to apologize." His tone was measured, carefully neutral. "But we cannot form a team with her in it."
Luria's usual brightness had gone quiet. She looked away.
Ivan blinked once. Pulled himself back together. "Before you haste your decision, I want you to understand she's under my care. You won't be held back, I'll make sure of—"
"I apologize, Ivan." Hugh's voice was not unkind. "I was unaware that you lacked a social sense. If you'll excuse us."
He nodded once and walked. Luria caught Ivan's eye for half a second, something apologetic flashed across her expression.
The whole exchange lasted less than two minutes.
Ivan stood in the corridor, very still, replaying it.
The wave of motes. The complete reversal, as though the decision had arrived fully formed the moment they had looked at her.
He turned.
Cassie stood just behind him. The grey had returned to the motes around her, no longer the overwhelming black of before, but building quietly, wisp by wisp, like smoke finding its shape again.
And then a thought arrived that he hadn't expected.
[ Fated ]
Sunny's attribute. And by extension, Fate itself.
He glanced briefly toward the hallway window, the pale light outside.
He had always read Cassie's relationship with fate as an expression of pain. Her personification of it, treating it as something with intention, with will, with cruelty had always seemed to him like what grief does to abstract things.
You give them faces because formlessness is harder to endure.
But he had just watched two people perform a complete 180 of a decision in the span of a glance. With no visible reason. With no exchange of words between them beforehand.
Is fate actively intervening?
The thought settled like cold water.
A slow ache began forming behind his eyes. He let out a quiet breath and walked back to Cassie.
"What did I tell you," she said, before he could speak. Her voice was low and flat. "No one wants to team up with me."
He looked at her for a moment.
Then he smiled softly.
"Why are you upset?" He patted her head once.
"Did you forget? You have me. I alone am worth at least five of the best sleepers, so what does it matter if those two don't join? With me watching, you could make it all the way to the divine."
She was quiet. Then a short, disbelieving breath escaped her not quite a laugh, but close.
The wisps of black dissolved. A neutral grey settled in their place, shot through with threads of something yellower.
"Haaah." It came out long and tired and quietly fond. "You really are a strange one."
"Third time today," he noted.
She closed her eyes and smiled, a real one, unhurried.
"And it won't be the last. Expect many more."
He looked at her for a second then turned away, his heart struggling to stay in place.
"Well then," he said, "we still have work. Let's get your paper submitted."
She nodded. He took her hand. And she followed his guidance.
The office visit was brief. The paper was filed. The day had begun to take on the quiet quality of late afternoon.
"Where's your dormitory?" Ivan asked as they stepped back out.
"I… don't actually know the way. I actually arrived not too long ago." She reached into her pocket and produced the number plate she had been given at registration. "I have this tho."
He looked at it. Then looked up at the corridor signs.
They walked.
He found the right building, the right floor, counted down the doors and then stopped.
He looked at the door number. Looked back down the corridor toward his own.
…Seriously?
His room sat close to the stairway. Hers was on the same floor, a few doors down the middle aisle, positioned along the outer wall of the building.
He looked through the open doorway and saw it immediately, the window. Pale afternoon light falling through it in clean lines.
He stood there for a moment in silence.
Didn't Awakened Borsha say the room he arranged was one of the better ones?
He felt the specific deadpan of someone watching a minor injustice unfold.
why does her room have a window and mine doesn't. Is everyone simply playing favourites now.
He almost laughed.
"Lucky for you," he said, turning to Cassie with all the brightness of someone who had absolutely not just experienced a small wave of personal grievance,
"My room is right around the corner. We're essentially neighbours."
Cassie's face visibly lifted. "Really? That's wonderful, we can just walk to class together."
"Exactly," he said.
He helped her through the doorway and spent a few minutes walking her through the layout, the bed, the desk, the window, the distance between each, until she could move through the space with reasonable confidence.
He stood by the door.
"Make yourself at home. I'll come by to get you for dinner when it's time."
He glanced at the curtains and reached over to draw them partially open.
"And I'll leave these half-open so the room has some light."
She held the door handle. "You don't need to do all that."
"I know," he said simply.
A pause.
"Well. Rest well." He took a step back. "See you later."
"See you later," she echoed.
A small smile. The door closed.
Cassie stood in the quiet of the room, one hand still resting on the knob, listening to his footsteps fade down the corridor.
Then she turned and traced her way carefully back to the bed, and lay down.
She stared at nothing, which was the same as everything else, and thought.
She turned the day over slowly, piece by piece.
She felt something that took her a moment to identify, because she hadn't felt it in long enough that the shape of it had become unfamiliar.
Relief. A vast and slightly terrifying relief.
But pessimism was an old friend. What if this was something he'd abandon in the dream realm when it counted? What if she had simply been a pleasant afternoon and nothing more? What if—
She pressed her lips together and stopped.
Not today.
For once, just this once, she wanted to choose the other thing. The fragile, embarrassing, necessary other thing. Her intuition had stayed quiet and steady all afternoon, and she had learned, slowly and with difficulty, to trust it.
She held onto that. She turned onto her side.
"Ivan," she said quietly, to no one. Then, softer still "Adam."
She closed her eyes.
—
Ivan stepped into his room and closed the door behind him.
He stood there for a moment in the dark before reaching over and clicking on the table lamp. Pale yellow light pooled across the desk and the edge of the mattress.
He didn't move right away.
The day had been a good one, by any measure he cared to apply. He had found her. He had sat with her. He had heard her laugh.
But the other half of the day hadn't left him.
He crossed the room and dropped onto the mattress, landing on his back, one arm folding behind his head. He stared at the ceiling.
The wave of motes. The clean 180 refusal. Two people who had seemed genuinely warm, genuinely open, turned in the span of a single glance as though a switch had been thrown somewhere beneath their awareness.
He had read fate as a concept for years. A narrative mechanism. A theme running through the story, shaping events with the impersonal logic of a river finding its course.
But rivers didn't aim.
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
"Fate, huh…"
***
The government facility had no windows in this section. The lighting was flat, even the kind that didn't cast shadows.
Awakened Borsha pushed through the inner door and approached the central desk.
The woman behind it looked up, and her expression immediately warmed.
"Afternoon, Sha-sha!" Miya leaned forward on her elbows. "Any trouble today?"
"Afternoon." Borsha settled into the chair across from her. "Nothing I couldn't manage."
She rested her chin in her hands with the ease of someone who had known him long enough to dispense with formality. "How are the new sleepers settling in?"
"Unique batch," he said, after a moment's consideration. "I'll give them that. One's an outskirt boy, Master Jet has him. The other one I took on myself."
Miya's expression shifted slightly. "The outskirt boy. Code black, right? Word got around." She shook her head. "I pity him, honestly. The first nightmare alone…"
"My gut says he makes it." Borsha shrugged. "Though when I found him he was barely holding together. Could have gone either way."
"Divine intervention might be the only thing that saves that one," Miya agreed, her tone not unkind. She had worked here long enough to have seen the statistics.
"So what brings you in? I know you didn't come all this way just to catch up, not with your schedule."
Borsha straightened.
"The other boy. The one I sent to the academy this morning." He paused, organizing his words. "I want to look into his records."
Miya's brow rose slightly. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing like that. The kid's fine. It's just…" He exhaled. "He woke up with no memories of before his awakening. I want to see what I can find. Try to help him piece something together."
Miya's expression softened into something genuinely somber. "Poor thing. That nightmare must have been brutal."
She was already turning to her terminal. "Name?"
"Ivan."
"Ivan… searching…" Her fingers moved across the interface. A pause. Then a small crease formed between her brows. "Huh."
Borsha caught it. "What?"
"It's just…" She tilted her head, reading. "Well, it's a bit odd."
"In what way?"
She exhaled and began reading aloud, her voice taking on the slightly careful tone of someone who wasn't sure what they were relaying.
"Born first of January, 2235. As of 2248, so at age thirteen, he's listed as an assistant professor at a mid-tier institution." She paused. "But there's also a secondary notation here. Priest in training."
The room was quiet for a beat.
"I'm sorry?" Borsha said.
"Priest in training," Miya repeated, as though saying it again might help it make more sense.
"That's…" Borsha sat forward. "He didn't strike me as the religious type. At all."
"Well, apparently." She scrolled further. "And he wasn't doing it informally, either. He was registered with an official institution. A church, recognized by the government."
Borsha blinked. "Recognized. Since when is there a recognized church?"
"That's what I'm looking at right now." She navigated deeper into the records, her expression growing increasingly focused.
"Here, established 25th of March, 2234. They call themselves…" She paused.
"The Church of the True Creator. Led by a pope, identity classified above my clearance level. Public record shows community service, substantial government donations, and early outreach work, specifically in the period following…"
She trailed off.
The gloom that settled over the desk needed no name.
Both of them knew the year. Borsha had been young, but not young enough. 2233. North America erased from Humanity's map. Billions lost. Humanity pushed back from another quadrant.
The Church of the True Creator had opened its doors in the year after that.
"How," Borsha said quietly, "is this the first I'm hearing about them?"
"I didn't know either," Miya said.
"And I can't get further than this, everything past this point is above my clearance. You'd need Sir Wake of Ruin's level or above to go any deeper."
She leaned back, and for a moment she looked genuinely unsettled, which was not something he saw from her often.
"Whatever they are, whoever decided to keep them quiet, that was a decision made well above both of us."
Borsha said nothing. The church. The boy. The lost memories. The priest in training notation sitting quietly in an official government file, attached to an average-looking kid who'd woken up in a police station with nothing but a name.
The printer beside Miya's desk hummed to life. A few pages fed through.
She gathered them without a word, slid them into an envelope, and held it out across the desk.
"Everything on file. His registered address, associated contacts, what little there is."
Borsha took it. Opened the flap. Skimmed.
His eyes moved down the page once.
Then stopped.
He read the line again.
The room was very quiet.
He put down the paper slowly, and simply stood there with the particular stillness of a man who has just realized the shape of a question is much larger than the answer he came in looking for.
On the paper:
——————
Name: Ivan
Classification: Special Strategic Asset (SSA)
…
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A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry for the last update, but heres the chapter, also i would like to clarify that certain mechanics of shadow slave has been tweaked to match this fanfic's needs, especially those related to the dormant abilities. About 99% of the things are just as cannon, also Huge shout out to Jirka and Flash for their Continued Support.