Lumian opened his eyes.
He wasn't inside his soul sea. Instead, he saw a white vaulted ceiling hanging above him; the design was strange, not extravagant, but surprisingly impressive to him.
Squinting slightly, he noticed the ceiling was heavily reinforced. He was in a safe place—far from monsters and those awakened hunters who wanted to kill him every second.
He also felt his body… not a monster's body, but a human one: two arms, two legs, a beating heart. He felt calm for some reason, though he didn't know why.
Lumian blinked; his eyes shifted as he smelled something odd. Cold, with a distinct touch of death. It definitely smelled like death.
Turning his head, he saw a woman sitting in a cheap plastic chair beside his bed.
She was, without a doubt, beautiful. Short, raven-black hair; icy blue eyes; flawless skin as white as snow.
She looked to be in her early twenties. She wore a dark blue uniform with silver straps and black leather boots. Her jacket hung open carelessly, revealing a black sleeveless shirt underneath.
The woman stretched her arms above her head, clearly bored and sleepy. The motion tugged the thin fabric, accentuating her large chest.
Lumian noticed two things. First: despite her incredible beauty—greater than any actress or model he had ever seen—he felt no lust. What he felt instead was interest… because she smelled like death.
Second: he knew who she was. One of the first characters introduced in the story. Seeing her in person was shocking.
His shock faded unusually fast, which worried him. Something was wrong with him, but he didn't know what.
"What are you staring at?" she asked, amusement in her voice.
Lumian blinked. To her, it probably looked like he was stunned by her beauty or her assets… but that wasn't the case.
He thought for a moment and replied:
"At a beautiful woman," he said with a fake smile. He noticed something else: he didn't feel happiness like a normal person. It was muted, faint. So he had to fake it.
The woman blushed slightly, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"You're too young for me, kid," she smiled.
Lumian sighed.
"At least I tried," he muttered, hoping to avoid tension. Thankfully he didn't get slapped; that would hurt, and he preferred to avoid it.
"You clearly haven't met many Awakened. By our standards, I'm below average."
Lumian rolled his eyes, not believing her.
She continued, ignoring his reaction:
"As your soul core develops, your body sheds its imperfections. That's why it's rare to find an unattractive Awakened, especially among the stronger ones. Live long enough and you might become a flower boy… though you're not too far from that already."
Then she added:
"Well… maybe. Anyway, since you're awake—welcome back to the land of the living. Congratulations on surviving your first Nightmare, Sleeper Lumian."
How does she know my name if I never… oh, right. Possession and destiny or something, he thought.
"I'm Ascended Jet. You can call me Master Jet. I've been on guard duty these past two days because of your nightmare."
"Master Jet… I have a question."
"Ask."
"How did I end up here?"
Jet blinked, watching him for a few seconds before answering.
"You collapsed out of nowhere just a few steps from a police station. When they examined you, they determined you were in your first nightmare, so we brought you here."
Lumian nodded.
Apparently, the possession and soul fusion happened when the original soul of this body entered the nightmare and mixed with his own, forming a single soul—where the weaker one was devoured.
At least, that was his conclusion.
After talking a bit more with Jet, he was released and sent to take a shower—according to her, he smelled like nightmare.
He remembered that the unnatural sleep from the spell slowed the metabolism, and the medical equipment handled the rest.
Freed from restraints, he headed to the showers.
Turning the knob, he felt the hot water hit his skin, relaxing his muscles. It felt like all the dirt, blood, and strange things from the nightmare were being washed away.
After several minutes he stepped out, wrapped a towel around his waist, and approached a mirror.
He examined his new appearance. Before, he had been a young adult around twenty, slightly above average in looks. Now he occupied the body of a teenager, maybe fifteen. His hair was dark blue, his eyes a peculiar amber-yellow.
After surviving his first Nightmare, he realized he was handsome—not as handsome as he'd be when Awakened, but he knew he'd look great someday… if he survived long enough.
With a few minutes to think, he reflected on his conversation with Jet and the feeling that something was missing. He felt disconnected from his human side.
Most of the conversation he had faked emotions and reactions. He needed information about his Defect.
If the defect was physical, he might become something non-human—more like a nightmare creature.
If it was mental or psychological, he could manage it.
It's not like he'd suddenly turn into a narcissistic psychopath who kills just because he can.
He decided to test his Aspect ability. Activating it flooded him with supernatural empowerment—similar to when he'd been in the body of the Nightmare Beast.
His senses sharpened; his vision became hyper-detailed. A fly buzzed past him, but he saw it in slow motion.
He extended his hand and closed it, catching the fly naturally.
Opening his hand, he saw the crushed insect. His increased strength had killed it.
"So that's what physical and mental enhancement means… My brain is processing massive amounts of information instantly, and my body multiplies its capabilities in response," he murmured.
When he deactivated the Aspect, everything returned to normal. The shift left him briefly disoriented.
Now that he understood the basics, he just needed to find the limits of his current Aspect before its evolution upon Awakening.
He forced a smile. He couldn't feel happiness; it was like a diluted version of the real emotion.
Putting on a clean police tracksuit, he headed to the cafeteria. Master Jet waited with two trays of hot synthetic food.
He sat across from her. She pushed one tray toward him.
"Eat."
Lumian ate despite the awful taste. His rule was never waste food—especially free food. He still remembered the week he ate raw sardines with shredded beetroot. The most disgusting thing he had ever eaten.
How was he still alive?
He had no idea.
He ate in silence. When a third of the food remained, he asked:
"So… what happens now?" he said, swallowing a mouthful and taking several sips of purified water.
Jet set her tray aside.
"All right. Protocol requires me to inform you of a few things. Mostly formalities. First, about your Nightmare…"
Lumian nodded and kept eating.
"You're entitled to free psychological counseling. No matter how traumatic your experience was, there's no shame in asking for help. Your mind is as important as your body; it deserves to be kept healthy. Are you interested?"
Lumian hesitated.
But he felt mentally stable. His Defect made what he experienced in the Nightmare feel more confusing than traumatic.
Important—but emotionless.
He shook his head.
"As you wish. You can also talk to me if you ever need to. Was it very hard?"
"A bit," Lumian said after thinking. "It was just a Nightmare Beast."
Jet widened her eyes slightly but didn't press further.
"That's all?" Lumian asked.
Jet snapped out of her thoughts.
"Essentially. There are a few additional matters, mostly related to your family, but… well, there isn't much in your file. Just your name, blood type, and the fact you're an orphan. The only thing left is choosing how you'll prepare for your first journey into the Dream Realm."
Lumian listened closely. Most of it he already knew; it was explained in the first chapters of the novel as a guide for beginner Sleepers.
In the end he decided to enroll in the Academy. There he'd get free food, free lodging, and proper training for his first Nightmare.
---
Lumian finally reached the massive gates of the Awakened Academy. He had to admit the place was gigantic—far beyond what the novel described.
He observed turrets more advanced than the ones that would be used during the Antarctic Nightmare Chain a few years later. The walls were tall and sturdy; he was certain transcendental steel reinforced them.
The most important discovery was that he had arrived before the story's events. Maybe a year or year and a half early. He didn't mind; he had no plans to get close to the protagonist trio.
He had his own goals.
If he ended up in the Forgotten Shore, he already had a plan: overthrow Gunlaug, obtain the keys to seal the Dark Sea, and handle the Terror once it began evolving toward Titan.
But for that, he needed strength.
Tremendous strength.
He needed to reach at least Devil or Tyrant level.
It was mid-autumn; he had roughly a month and a half to prepare.
The second thing he discovered was that he was fifteen. Strange, since the spell usually targeted people between sixteen and eighteen, with rare exceptions.
Though the Prince of Nothing had his first nightmare at twelve, according to forums.
Finally, Lumian thought as the gates began to open.
Before entering, he remembered Jet's advice: he needed reliable allies; no one survived the Dream Realm alone.
Lumian silently thanked her as he stepped through the gates.