Silence.
A deep, almost absolute silence.
Within a body made of pure golden light, formless and weightless, the angel remained still, contemplating the vastness before him. There were no organs, no skin, no eyes—only existence. A spark of consciousness bathed in stillness.
The sky was white, without sun, without shadow, without time. The ground—if it could even be called that—was made of unmoving clouds, soft and eternal, bearing the weight of something beyond comprehension.
Beneath those clouds, in a seemingly endless expanse, constellations turned. Stars that had never shone in the waking world danced in slow, unfathomable spirals, like ancient eyes that observed all things, yet revealed nothing.
And then, in the distance, walking upon the clouds as though gliding over veils of silk, she appeared.
An entity.
A woman of impossible beauty, so sublime that even the clouds seemed to bow beneath her steps. Her presence made the world fall silent in reverence.
Her skin was pale, of an almost ethereal hue, belonging to no world of the living. Her golden hair floated around her head, guided by a wind that obeyed her alone.
On her forehead, two delicate horns curved upward, and at her temples, two more emerged—symmetrical and elegant, like a profane crown that contrasted with her celestial appearance.
Her eyes were black as night, but there was no malice in them—only serenity. An immense, judgmentless compassion radiated from her gaze, as if she loved everything and everyone, without distinction, without resentment.
In her hands rested a strange flower—a small, delicate bloom, but instead of petals, it bore flames. Dark, silent flames that danced without consuming, pulsing with a life not of this world.
Beautiful. Majestic. Divine.
The deity was cloaked in translucent silver veils, shimmering like enchanted mist around her. And in complete silence, she stared at an abyss just ahead—a place where the clouds ended and absolute void began.
Before that void, the deity showed no fear. She simply observed, as one who waits for something... or someone.
And then, something supernatural—perhaps even impossible—occurred.
From the unfathomable abyss, where reality falters and hope is lost, a figure rose. A being from another world.
A demon.
But he was not a demon of legend, nor of religion or popular tales. He was not grotesque, not corrupted, nor did he carry the horror of deformity. There was no fury in his expression—only exhaustion.
He had the form of a young man with dark red eyes, like embers dying at the end of the night. His expression was weary, marked by invisible scars. He wore armor of dark stone, cracked and weathered—as if he had fought for ages against fate itself.
He flew silently above the deity, cloaked in black flames—fragile and worn, burning only out of stubbornness. He landed softly behind her, bearing the weight of a burden too ancient to name.
The deity did not move. Her eyes remained fixed on the abyss before her, as if trying to decipher the end. She felt his presence drawing nearer, step by step, but she did not avert her gaze.
"You came to me again," she said, with a voice that was not cold. It was soft, delicate—like the sound of wind gliding across thin glass.
"I'm sorry..." the demon replied. "But entering your soul... always brings me comfort."
The deity's eyes, once still, flickered with a subtle melancholy. That simple confession seemed to break something inside her, even if imperceptibly.
"Did they... find out?"
The demon let out a deep sigh. His fists clenched tightly, the dry sound of stone compressing echoed in the silence around them. He stopped just behind her, hesitant.
"Your sister is very worried about your disappearance. I think... we need to find another way to end all this, Elyaria."
At the sound of her name, the deity finally turned.
And when her eyes met his, time seemed to stop. A silence almost sacred settled between them — the kind of silence that precedes the collapse of worlds, or the birth of a new one.
The demon looked at her with a calm, yet heavy gaze, worn down by the exhaustion of centuries. Elyaria gazed back with tenderness and compassion—the pity of one who understands even the impurest of sins.
Then, without warning, the demon dropped to his knees before her.
And he wept.
Tears fell down his face, each one carrying ages of restrained sorrow. He was a creature made of death, shaped by forgotten suffering and forbidden desires. And yet, before her... he seemed human.
Perhaps for the first time in millennia.
"I tried..." his voice cracked. "I tried to stop them from finding you. I fought with everything I had left. But I'm too weak... too weak to face them all."
"It's only a matter of time before they find us."
Elyaria watched him in silence. And then, from her immortal eyes, a single tear fell.
She cried only once.
And when the tear touched the ground, the world fell silent.
With infinite gentleness, she ran her fingers through the demon's hair. Then she knelt beside him, with the serenity of one who accepts the inevitable, and guided his face to her chest—a gesture of divine comfort, as intimate as it was eternal.
Even wrapped in sorrow, even aware of the cruel fate that awaited them, the goddess smiled.
But it was not an ordinary smile. It was the kind of smile that could have founded empires of faith... or destroyed them all.
It was the smile of someone who chose love, even knowing it would mean the ruin of everything.
"It's alright. We did what we could to stop the destruction. We did what we could to save what we felt... even knowing the risks."
A silence followed. A thick silence, dense with meaning.
It wasn't emptiness, nor absence. It was the kind of silence that comes after a confession — the silent echo left in the wake of something sacred falling. The invisible sound of two hearts that know, deep down, they're about to be broken.
The only sound was the demon's restrained weeping, muffled against the goddess's chest.
And then, something subtle yet revealing happened: the dark armor encasing his body cracked beneath the touch of divine hands. Not from force or command, but from affection. From tenderness.
A gesture of compassion so pure, so incompatible with his profane nature, that the very matter of his being gave way — as if love were the only force capable of wounding what hatred could not.
Elyaria's fingers slid slowly through his hair, as if wishing to stop time, to seal that moment between eternal breaths. As if, beyond the veils of immortal clouds and the pale, sunless sky, there was still a chance — however faint — of salvation for their love.
"You were always more human than any mortal," she whispered, her voice nearly swallowed by the eternal wind. Her eyes were lost beyond the horizon, where the stars dared not rise.
"...And you," he replied, lifting his damp and trembling face, "are the only goddess who learned to love what she was meant to hate."
Once more, their eyes met.
Elyaria's eyes — deep, black as the abyss — reflected the demon's eyes, red as the memory of a forgotten war. It was a long gaze, heavy with unspoken centuries, and filled with the certainty that this was the last time.
The last time they would see each other as equals.
The last time they would see each other... as themselves.
"They can separate us. They can destroy our bodies and our souls. They can cast us into the void of forgetfulness. But they will never find what we protected most dearly."
And when Elyaria spoke those words...
The goddess and the demon turned their eyes to the Angel.
That silent presence of pure light — without body, without voice, without identity. Only a soul. A soul that had not yet been born.
They rose, slowly, and walked together toward the ethereal glow that hovered in the air, unmoving, as if it were waiting. As if it already knew.
That light had no shape, only essence — the spark of a being that did not yet exist, but already watched them with the melancholy of one who intuits their fate.
Elyaria raised her hand, and in her palm rested a flower made of black flames — not natural, but alive. A fire that burned with suffering, love, and broken promises.
With solemnity, she knelt before the light and placed the flower on the celestial ground, directly beneath it.
That was when the flames changed.
They became intense, violent blazes, consuming the clouds beneath the angel's soul. A fire rose, scorching the divine light with that agonizing flame — a fire that should never have existed in the firmament.
Elyaria and the demon watched in silence as the light began to merge with the shadowy flames, as if it were being shaped, corrupted, and consecrated all at once.
And then the goddess spoke.
Words that would seal the fate of that being of light. Words that would define it forever.
The darker the flames became, the more the light flickered… and the less the angel could see the figures that had given it origin. The forms of the goddess and the demon gradually faded, like memories washed away by the pain of rebirth.
And then, Elyaria spoke the final words, her voice like a divine whisper that pierced through realities:
"In your soul, there shall be not only light. There shall also be darkness. And the one who is worthy to receive you as a vessel must judge both."
"You are our creation... and the only proof that our love ever existed."
"The light in you was corrupted. It fractured."
"Broken by choices, scarred by sacrifice."
"Upon assuming this form, you are not merely divine..."
— "You are...
The god's most beautiful mistake." —
And so, everything unraveled.
Like glass shattering from within, the dream broke.
Reality tore itself apart in silence.
And Kaelis...
…awoke.
--------------------------------------------------
With a start, Kaelis woke — his chest heaving, eyes lost on the ceiling of the room still wrapped in shadows.
His body trembled slightly. His breathing was uneven, as if he had just surfaced from a deep, forgotten dive. There was something unreal in his limbs: his arms and legs were numb, heavy as stone, as if crushed by an invisible force until the very moment he awakened.
He could still feel it… the sensation of having been light. A being without flesh, forged of divinity and suffering.
A dream? he thought. Was that… just a dream?
Slowly, he turned his gaze to his right hand.
There rested the Sword of the White Priest.
It no longer glowed. The spectral light that once surrounded its blade had faded. The ruby in the hilt, once pulsing like a condemned heart, now lay inert, dull — as if the echo trapped within had fallen asleep.
"You..." Kaelis murmured, his voice unsteady, "...did you make me dream of that?"
But there was no response.
No presence, no whisper, no chill.
The demon that inhabited the sword — the spirit that had spoken to him so many times — seemed to have vanished. Or was sleeping. Or... simply didn't want to answer.
Kaelis sighed, the sound lost in the stillness of the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. Cold sweat still ran down his temples. The real world felt far too fragile after what he had seen.
That was when a memory emerged from the fog of the vision.
A specific attribute of the bastard sword. One of the most enigmatic.
Profane Requiem.
"The sword whispers a prayer to the bearer — not in words, but in memory. A melody woven from laments, lost prayers, and muffled screams."
His heart raced.
That vision... had not been a mere dream.
It had been a memory.
A fragment of the demon's soul. A piece of his story. Of the love he had lived. And of the goddess he had lost.
But not only that.
Kaelis' eyes widened, the thought striking him like lightning.
Without hesitation, he dove into his Soul Sea.
Something within had to be confronted — or understood.
And he could no longer ignore it.
There he was again — immersed in the reverent silence of a colossal hall, carved from the depths of his Soul Sea.
The interior of the cathedral was as beautiful as it was desolate.
The white marble walls glowed faintly, interwoven with cracked silver veins that exuded an almost sacred serenity. The grandeur of the place seemed made for eternities, as though it had existed before time and would endure long after everything ended.
But to Kaelis, not even all that magnificence mattered in that moment.
Compared to what he was seeking, even the celestial beauty of the cathedral felt insignificant.
Turning, his eyes fell upon a figure that had haunted him since his First Nightmare: the statue of the divinity he had destroyed.
Before, the Nightmare Spell had told him that the statue represented the fragmented soul of the Heart God.
But now... Kaelis doubted that.
There was something different. Something he had not noticed before.
The statue bore unmistakable features — the same curved horns and abyss-black eyes belonging to the goddess he had seen in his memory: Elyaria.
And that changed everything.
That statue... did not represent the physical body of the divinity. It was the soul of Elyaria. Or at least, her purest and most symbolic form — the essence of who she was.
As Kaelis contemplated that sacred image — the serene-faced goddess holding a golden star, radiant as the sun — his gaze fixed on the object in her hands.
The star.
He recognized it.
It was the same he had embodied in his dream — golden, luminous, yet marked by the black flames of the flower Elyaria had left at its feet.
That flower... that offering...
It had not only set the star ablaze. It had corrupted it. Transformed its divine light into something new, something hybrid, born of pain and sacrifice.
And then the thoughts began to flood his mind.
'The goddess of the First Nightmare who called herself the "Fragmented Soul of the Heart God"... Who is she?'
'Who is the Heart God? What does the Spell mean by "fragmented soul"?'
'Elyaria. If she is the deity that resides within me, then why didn't the Spell reveal her name to me when I killed her?'
'Does she have a sister? Is her sister another goddess, or perhaps the Heart God herself?'
So many questions. No answers.
The lack of clarity gnawed at his spirit like a dull blade wedged between his ribs. It was as if the universe itself conspired to keep him in ignorance, preventing him from uncovering his origin, his essence, his truth.
How would he find the answers he sought?
He didn't know yet.
The Dream Realm was vast and enigmatic, and its culture, myths, and forgotten ruins — all remained shrouded in veils that only a few dared to lift.
But there was hope.
Kaelis knew that, at the Awakened Academy, there would be historians. People who might, perhaps, offer fragments of the truth.
Feeling the warm, shallow water that covered the floor touching his feet, Kaelis stood silently before Elyaria's statue.
His eyes fixed on the corrupted star and on the face of the goddess who now resided within his soul.
"Divinity Elyaria… What happened to you to end up like this, transformed into this silent statue that dwells in my soul?"
The question echoed through the vast emptiness of the dreamlike hall, but no answer came.
The statue remained motionless, unshaken, with its sacred beauty and eternally serene expression — as it had always been.
Kaelis only sighed, feeling the weight of that absence. His gaze returned once more to the corrupted sun that floated in the statue's hands — golden and radiant, yet stained by the dark flames that had tainted its light.
With a gentle closing of his eyes, Kaelis left behind the silence of his Soul Sea, returning his consciousness to his physical body.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, he remained still for a few more moments, absorbing everything he had seen.
His thoughts were seething.
Theories, hypotheses, doubts — a tangled mess of questions that seemed to scream inside his mind.
He needed answers. He needed to understand his Aspect. To comprehend who — or what — he truly was.
The memory experienced in his dream, as incomplete and enigmatic as it was, had revealed something essential: a spark of truth about himself. It explained not only the origin of the symbol that resided in his soul, but also the reason behind the peculiar description of his ability.
[Ability: Fractured Manifestation]
Type:Angelic Transformation
Duration:Short (dependent on endurance)
"The light in you was corrupted. It's fractured. Broken by choices, scarred by sacrifice. Upon assuming this form, you are not merely divine — you are the god's most beautiful mistake."
That phrase.
It wasn't just a description.
It was the same one Elyaria had whispered at the end of the dream. And that… that revealed everything. It revealed the origin of his Soul Core, the heart of his awakened essence — the corrupted sun that now hovered in the hands of the silent divinity in his Soul Sea.
The truth was unsettling.
Kaelis stared at the floor, his mind spinning with the weight of what he was beginning to understand.
"This is all... far too absurd."
In a slow, almost reverent motion, he looked once more at the bastard sword still firmly gripped in his hand — the Sword of the White Priest, silent, heavy, as if it shared the burden with him.
Then, with a weary sigh, Kaelis sent the blade back into his Soul Sea, where it would rest until called upon again.
But the flame of doubt, of seeking, and of truth — that would not rest anytime soon.
The sword dissolved into fragments of golden light, beautiful as stars dying in silence, disappearing into the air and leaving Kaelis's hands empty.
He rose slowly from the bed... but the moment his feet touched the ground, his body gave out. Kaelis stumbled and fell, the impact echoing through the quiet room.
His body felt numb. Strangely light, yet stiff at the same time — as if it were still trying to remember how to exist in flesh and bone.
It was understandable. Just moments ago, he had been nothing but light. A consciousness wrapped in brilliance and void, floating in a vivid dream where there was no flesh, no bones, no gravity. Only him and the sacred.
"Shit…" he muttered, his forehead pressed to the cold floor, before pushing himself up with effort. His muscles responded slowly, as though waking up alongside him. It took a few minutes for him to regain full movement.
Leaning against the wall, he staggered to the table in front of him and grabbed his phone to check the time.
He blinked.
08:00 AM.
Kaelis froze.
Breakfast at the Awakened Academy started at 07:00. And more importantly, today was the day the ranking of the Dormant — those who would journey with him into the Dream Realm over the next four weeks — would be publicly announced.
"Fuck."
The dream had consumed him for so long he hadn't even heard the alarm. Or he had subconsciously ignored it. He didn't know. And it didn't matter now.
Going into full panic mode, Kaelis ripped off his clothes, threw on whatever pants he could find, shoved mismatched socks onto his feet, stepped into his sneakers without even thinking to tie the laces, and grabbed the first shirt he saw.
The shirt, of course, was the biggest challenge.
His right wing — beautiful, large, and voluminous — made the task feel like trying to shove his arms into a vest that was far too tight while a pair of muscular wings tried to break free from all sides. The sensation was frustrating, as if his body was still learning how to exist with those extra parts.
After a lot of struggle, he finally managed to get dressed.
He opened the dorm door and sprinted down the academy hallway.
He remembered the conversations with James, Jet, and even his parents: he needed to make friends, build connections. Being well-liked was as much a matter of survival as it was of socializing. In the Dream Realm, reliable allies could mean the difference between life and death.
And today, on this specific morning, was the perfect opportunity. The cafeteria would be full of Dormant. Everyone gathered, watching the rankings, commenting, analyzing each other. A crucial moment to make a good first impression.
'Damn! I'm way too late!'
A few moments later, Kaelis stopped in front of the cafeteria's double doors.
His hair was messy, his clothes disheveled. He didn't even really know what he was wearing — the rush had overwhelmed any sense of style or elegance.
He stopped. Took a deep breath. Puffed out his chest. Forced a confident expression, even with his heart pounding and his mind spinning.
'It's going to be fine. Maybe the rankings haven't even been revealed yet.'
It was a fragile hope, but it was all he had.
Kaelis brought his hands to the cafeteria doors. Gripped the cold metal handles firmly. His eyes closed for a brief second.
And then, he pushed the doors open with both hands, stepping through the entrance with his eyes shut and his heart hammering in his chest.
And before he could even open his eyes...
Kaelis heard the Choir of the Silent.
Like an invisible tide, the emotions of those present crashed into him. Anxiety. Admiration. Fear. Joy. Anger. A whirlwind of feelings that tangled around his skin like electric wires pulsing with the lives of others.
The cafeteria door shut behind him with a sharp, heavy click, as if the room itself wanted to isolate him from the outside world. He opened his eyes slowly.
The cafeteria was full. Not completely packed, but buzzing. Most of the Dormant were standing, gathered in front of a large screen suspended on the central wall. Eyes wide. Eager smiles. Murmurs laced with excitement.
Kaelis didn't need to listen with his ears. He could feel it. The Defect made everything alive, everything vibrant — and cruelly impossible to ignore.
All at once, every gaze turned toward him.
And the Choir of the Silent spoke.
Distant, simultaneous whispers invaded his mind. Fragments of thoughts overlapped, intertwined, like diverging echoes fighting for his attention:
'He really has a True Name.'
'Impressive… Lady Nephis, Kaelis, and Caster must be stronger than they seem.'
'Is he… is he really an angel?'
'What the hell is that nerdy shirt? Is this idiot really stronger than me?'
Too many voices. Too many feelings.
Kaelis faltered.
Joy and searing admiration mixed with acidic envy and silent judgment. That patchwork of conflicting emotions tore at the stability of his mind, like a wet cloth being stretched to its limit.
His hands trembled. Instinctively, he clenched the fabric of his pants, trying to contain the discomfort. A fragile, clearly forced smile appeared on his face, like a mask desperate for control.
Something was different.
The Choir sounded louder than ever. More present. More vivid. As if his mind had lost one of the subtle filters that protected him from emotional overload.
And it made sense.
During the dream, Kaelis hadn't had a body. He hadn't felt human emotions. Not even complex thoughts. He had been only consciousness — pure, concentrated, untouched.
And now, back in a human body, everything felt... excessive.
Being torn from a state of light and thrown back into flesh, pain, and emotion — all at once — was more disorienting than he had expected.
He brought a hand to his head and sighed quietly, trying to mask the discomfort. He forced his eyes to move, shifting his gaze from the crowd in front of him to the rest of the cafeteria.
To his right, at a more distant table, he spotted three seated figures: Sunless, Cassia, and a woman he recognized as a social worker.
Sunless watched him in silence.
His gaze was heavy, focused. There was something far too serious in his expression — not judgment, but something more... empathetic. As if he saw something in Kaelis's eyes that no one else could.
The hidden pain. The shadow behind the smile.
And then, the Choir spoke through him.
'This guy... is he okay? Looks like he's being haunted.' — the Choir of the Silent said through Sunless with a hint of concern in his tone, the kind that came from someone who also knew what it was like to carry ghosts.
Cassia, the blind girl, tilted her face slightly toward the Dormant gathered around the large screen, watching the highlighted information flashing across it. Her extinguished eyes couldn't see, but her senses — sharpened by darkness — picked up every breath, every murmur, every movement.
Voices bubbled around them:
"Two Dormant with True Names after the First Nightmare? Impossible!"
"Technically it's possible. Smile of Heaven received a True Name in the First Nightmare..."
"But two people getting True Names almost at the same time? It must be fate!"
"Maybe they lied in the interview."
"Are you stupid? If it were that easy to fool the interviewers, that crazy pervert from yesterday would've ended up in first place!"
The discussion grew more intense, like sparks spreading in a dry field. Words soaked in suspicion, fascination, and doubt mingled in the air.
Kaelis brought a hand to his temple. His head throbbed. Though the situation wasn't as emotionally dense as the induction ceremony, his body still wasn't used to it. The dream… that dream had changed him more deeply than he realized. Every emotion now felt more vivid, closer, harder to filter.
Turning to the left, his eyes found a figure standing out in a secluded corner of the cafeteria — the white-haired girl.
She had entered the Awakened Academy alongside him and Sunless. And, according to the rumors he himself had heard moments earlier, she too had received a True Name.
That alone said a lot.
Kaelis watched her. But, strangely, he heard nothing.
No emotion, no thought. The Choir of the Silent whispered nothing from her. The soul of that Dormant was like a deep, still lake — completely silent. Untouchable. Unshakable.
She seemed... unshakable.
Noticing Kaelis's gaze, the girl slowly turned her face in his direction. Her cold, attentive eyes analyzed him. Beside her, a young man she had been speaking with also turned.
Both locked eyes on Kaelis, who remained still, pale, and clearly trying to hide the agony etched on his face. It was obvious to them that something was wrong with him.
The boy — slightly older, perhaps — said something to the girl, gave her a respectful bow, and then walked with steady steps toward Kaelis.
He had dark brown hair, forest-green eyes under the morning light, and a gentle, almost charismatic face. His serene expression and confident posture conveyed assurance, like someone used to inspiring others. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a physique clearly shaped by years of rigorous training — the body of someone who had prepared for war since childhood.
As he approached, the young man cast Kaelis a curious look — perhaps intrigued by the artificial smile and the pain-laced expression he saw before him.
But without hesitation, he extended his hand.
"Hello, nice to meet you, Kaelis. My name is Caster, from the Han Li clan. You're one rank above me on the Dormant leaderboard, holding second place."
'I'm second place?' Kaelis thought, stunned. 'Then the first must be the white-haired girl…'
While slowly adjusting to the lingering headache and the whirlwind of emotions still flooding him, he took a deep breath.
He shook Caster's hand firmly, forcing himself to smile more genuinely. He responded politely:
"Nice to meet you, Caster. My name is Kaelis… and I don't have a clan. I'm just the son of an ordinary family."
For a few seconds, the two stared at each other in silence.
Not with hostility, but with an almost instinctive curiosity — like two predators trying to understand each other's strength and nature before the first real move.
One young man from a renowned clan… and the other, merely the son of a humble family, hovering between the middle class and the edges of poverty.
It was at that moment that the Choir of the Silent made itself heard once more — its voice hissing through Caster with a cold, ghostly tone. Despite the young man's serene and friendly expression, the words Kaelis heard through his Defect overflowed with veiled disdain and judgment.
'A young man who doesn't even belong to a clan or have a powerful family? He seems inexperienced and easy.'
Kaelis felt his body tense. A chill ran up his spine. Though he didn't let it show, his soul recoiled — the coldness of those words burned like heated iron. And even so, he kept his composure, masking it with a mild smile.
Caster, still wearing the same gentle smile, touched Kaelis's shoulder and gestured with his chin toward a group of young people gathered near the large ranking screen.
"You know, Kaelis… I think it would be a good idea for us to become friends. I believe I can teach you many useful things around here. How about I introduce you to my group?"
Kaelis held his gaze and replied lightly, though his discomfort was clearly palpable beneath the surface.
"Really? That sounds great. I'd honestly like to get to know you and your group better, but... today I promised to meet some friends here at the cafeteria. Maybe we can talk later?"
"Sure, no problem," Caster replied naturally, though his tone seemed to assess every word Kaelis had spoken. "And who are these friends of yours? Maybe they're among the ones I was going to introduce you to."
Kaelis took a deep breath. He knew the answer would stir things up, but he didn't hesitate. Slowly, he pointed to the isolated table to his right. Only two people were sitting there — and one of them was impossible to ignore.
The exact moment Kaelis pointed to the table, Sunless, sitting quietly, choked on his coffee and cast a distressed look toward the sky, as if cursing the gods themselves.
'Damn it… is he really doing this?! Does he want everyone to look at me?!'
And that's exactly what happened.
Several eyes turned toward the table. Expressions of disdain, mockery, and judgment rained down on Sunless like a storm of blades. It was as if, with a single gesture, Kaelis had exposed his companion to a new public trial.
And then the Choir of the Silent screamed.
'The angel… friends with that filth?'
'Why does he hang out with garbage like that?'
'A Sleeper with a True Name… connected to a pervert who must have barely survived the First Nightmare?!'
The voices assaulted Kaelis's mind with violence. Every thought he picked up through his Defect sounded more toxic and cruel than the last. The hatred was so dense he could almost touch it.
He didn't know why, but it was clear: Sunless wasn't just disliked. He was hated.
Caster raised an eyebrow, surprised, and gave Kaelis a look of pure skepticism.
"You… are friends with that guy?"
"I am." Kaelis answered firmly. "He might not look like it, but he's a great person."
For a brief moment, Caster's gaze faltered. Then, he looked away, his eyes now fixed on Sunless with a clear hint of restrained disdain.
"Well... if you say so," he murmured. "Anyway, later this afternoon there's going to be an introductory combat class. A bunch of Dormants will be participating. If you want, show up. It might be a good opportunity for you to train and... get to know the others better."
Kaelis reflected. He knew he needed to learn how to fight. His combat experience had always been hand-to-hand combat taught by his father and some teachers he knew. But technique? Strategy? Or how to use a sword? He was still very inexperienced.
"Sounds interesting. I'll be there."
"Great. I'm looking forward to it," Caster replied, extending his hand once more for a final handshake.
Kaelis shook the boy's hand. The grip was firm, yet silent — as if there was a subtle tension between the two, nearly imperceptible to any outside observer.
When Caster walked away and returned to his group, Kaelis remained still for a moment. What he had heard when his Defect spoke through Caster still whispered in his ears. Now mixed with doubt, he knew that his "friendship" with Caster... would be a fragile feeling, like treading on ground where trust might be a rare luxury.
Kaelis walked over to the table where Sunless and Cassia were seated. Without asking for permission, he simply settled beside the dark-haired youth, who was glaring at him with a mixture of anger and barely disguised irritation. But Kaelis didn't mind. He just let his body sink into the seat, exhaling a sigh of relief — as if he had finally found shelter after a long storm.
His head was still throbbing, the echoes of pain beating like muffled drums, but the intensity was starting to fade. Slowly, he was beginning to readjust to the burden of his Defect — the constant curse of feeling others' emotions as if they were his own.
Resting his arms on the table, he laced his fingers behind his neck and started to massage his temples, hoping to speed up the relief.
When he looked forward, he noticed that Cassia was turned in his direction, as was her social worker, who observed him in silence. But Kaelis knew that even though their eyes were pointed at him, Cassia couldn't see him. She was blind, and likely didn't even know who had just sat down in front of her.
"H-Hi, Cassia... it's me, Kaelis."
She smiled gently, a shy but genuine smile.
"Good morning, Kaelis. Is everything alright?"
"Yeah... sorry for bothering you two again. I just need some time to rest."
Kaelis then turned his gaze to the left, where Sunless remained silent. Despite his rigid expression and furrowed brows, there was something different in his eyes. There was still irritation, yes, but mixed with a subtle — almost imperceptible — hint of concern.
Kaelis noticed it and smiled. He was grateful — both for not being driven away from the table and for that fleeting flash of care the other boy tried to hide.
"Sorry, Sunless... I really didn't mean to draw all that attention to you. Hope you don't mind."
The response came dry and sharp, like an unexpected punch to the gut.
"Well, I do mind. Besides, the idiot with all the spotlights on him decided to turn them all on me."
The silence that followed was heavy. Cassia's assistant raised her eyebrows, surprised. Even Cassia seemed unsettled. Kaelis also fell silent, absorbing the blow of that response.
But then he laughed. A short, spontaneous, and genuine laugh, as if Sunless's bluntness had pierced through the weight of tension.
Sunless looked away, unsure of what to do with that reaction.
"You really are an interesting guy, Sunless."
The next few minutes passed slowly. The pain in Kaelis's head had nearly vanished, and the voices of the Choir of the Silent seemed to have finally gone quiet. The emotions of others had retreated to the back of his mind, distant and hushed.
For the first time since arriving at the cafeteria... Kaelis felt like he could breathe.
The cafeteria was almost empty. Most of the Sleepers had already left, including Caster and his group. Even the white-haired girl had vanished, as if she had never been there at all.
Kaelis stood up calmly and picked up a tray, walking over to the food area to fill his plate with the many appetizing dishes the cafeteria offered. When he finished, he headed toward the large crystal screen where, moments before, the Sleepers had gathered.
As he approached, his eyes locked onto what appeared to be the official Sleeper ranking.
At the top of the list, in first place, was the portrait of the white-haired girl. Beside the image, two lines of clear, glowing text stood out:
- Name: Nephis
- True Name: Star of Change
Just below her, occupying second place, was Kaelis's own portrait. The information beside his image sent a slight chill down his spine:
- Name: Kaelis
- True Name: Broken Vow
In third place was Caster's portrait. Unlike the first two, only his name appeared — no True Name accompanied it. In fact, none of the other Sleepers had earned such a title. That alone spoke volumes about the rarity and weight of the feat achieved by Kaelis and Nephis.
Kaelis knew how rare it was to awaken a True Name during the First Nightmare. It was an almost impossible feat. As far as he knew, only one person had done something similar many years ago: a girl known as Smile of Heaven. He didn't know much about her, but remembered her fame as a legend among the Sleepers.
Driven by curiosity, Kaelis scrolled the list downward, searching for Sunless's name. His eyes widened when he found it... second to last. Just one spot above Cassia, who was in last place.
The realization hit bitterly. That explained why both of them had seemed so out of place — both during the induction ceremony and in the cafeteria itself.
Cassia... she was blind. That alone made her a target of judgment and disbelief among the other Sleepers. To many, she was seen as a burden, a body marked for death. It was hard to imagine how she would survive in the Dream Realm — a cruel and unpredictable world. What if she appeared alone in a wild territory? What if she fell off a cliff or was surrounded by monsters, with no direction to run, and worse, no idea where she was even running?
Kaelis's heart clenched.
But what about Sunless? Why was he in such a shameful position on the list? Kaelis vividly remembered the uncomfortable sensation he had felt when meeting him. Something instinctive, like his very soul warning him that there was something dangerous hidden within that boy.
Had he lied during the interview? Or was he hiding his Aspect, just as Jet had recommended? If Sunless had been ranked second to last for completely concealing his Aspect... that meant he possessed an Aspect too powerful to be revealed?
Lost in these thoughts, Kaelis turned and returned to the table. He sat in silence, his mind full of suspicions about Sunless — and a growing weight of concern for the blind girl.
As he slowly chewed the food on his tray, he felt the strange calm of a moment shared in silence. Sunless was sipping his coffee with a relaxed expression, savoring it as if it were his first. Cassia was eating gently with the help of her assistant, who was cutting a piece of cake for her.
A few minutes later, Sunless finished his coffee and stood up.
Kaelis looked up.
"Ah, Sunless, are you going to the Wilderness Survival class today?"
Sunless made a face, the taste of the coffee clearly still bothering him. Only after a few seconds did he reply.
"Yeah. Actually, I was heading there now."
"Oh... Right. I guess I'll meet you after the meal, once I've changed clothes. See you then."
"Yeah. See you."
With that, Sunless walked away and left the cafeteria, leaving behind only Kaelis, Cassia, and her assistant.
Kaelis returned to his meal, focused. Cassia did the same, her delicate movements guided by the patient hands of the woman beside her.
When he finished what was on his plate, Kaelis opened the water bottle beside his tray and took a sip, just as Cassia's assistant stood up and walked over to one of the cafeteria attendants.
The cafeteria was nearly empty, wrapped in an unusual stillness. The once chaotic voices of the Sleepers had faded with the end of the meals, leaving only the soft sound of trays being stacked and the distant hum of cleaning machines.
Kaelis had already finished eating—he had no reason to remain sitting there with Cassia. And yet, he stayed, silent, as if trying to show some respect to the girl. He said nothing. He didn't need to—not yet. The silence between them was comfortable, or at least bearable.
Cassia wore her golden hair loose over her shoulders, her chin slightly tilted downward. Her faded blue, sightless eyes stared into the void, and even without seeing, she knew Kaelis was still there.
"You were the only Sleeper who spoke to me today," she said, her voice low. "Even though I'm the least likely to survive."
Kaelis looked at her calmly.
"Maybe the others are afraid of saying the wrong thing to you, so they keep their distance."
Cassia let out a laugh — faint, humorless.
"Or maybe they're too busy wondering how much time I have left."
Silence returned, but Kaelis kept his eyes fixed on her.
"My assistant told me about my ranking... I'm at the bottom of the list. The blind girl who won't last even a few minutes in the Dream Realm."
Her tone tried to sound light, but there were invisible cuts in every word.
Each word was like a small blade she drove into herself with precision — an attempt to laugh at her own tragedy.
Kaelis inhaled slowly, then spoke with firmness — not harshly, but with truth and compassion.
"And yet, you're here. Moving forward. Breathing. Trying."
Cassia lowered her face further. Her fists clenched on her lap, as if she needed to hold on to herself to avoid falling apart.
"It's not enough."
"It's more than it seems," he said.
She stayed silent, but something in her shoulders shifted — a subtle tension, a quiet expectation. Kaelis leaned forward slightly, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost intimate.
"You know... maybe no one expects anything from you. Maybe they've already erased you from their minds. But I haven't."
Cassia bit her lower lip, trying with all her strength to hold back the emotions Kaelis could already feel. Her sorrow, her despair — and finally, a subtle hope beginning to stir in her soul.
"Why?"
"Because I saw you yesterday. At the induction ceremony. You were sad, isolated, hollow... But you weren't broken. Just quiet. And even blind, even in silence, you were still there. Standing. Surviving."
Cassia didn't respond immediately. When she did, her voice was nearly a whisper.
"Before I lost my sight, I felt something inside my Soul Sea... Like the world was calling to me. Challenging me. But when I woke up in the outer world, everything was dark. Like I had failed before I even began."
Kaelis closed his eyes for a moment. He weighed every word carefully — as if each syllable could shape the life of the girl in front of him.
"You didn't fail, Cassia. You survived. And that already makes you stronger than most. A lot of people think strength is standing atop the walls... But you're here, alive, with no walls to hold you up."
She took a deep breath. A new silence fell over the table — dense and tender. Until she asked, her voice hesitant:
"Do you think... someone blind like me can still survive?"
Kaelis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Because you're strong. Because you can still choose your own path. And because I'll be here, if you want. Not as a guide, not as a savior. Just as someone who believes that you can still survive — and become strong."
Cassia parted her lips slightly, and for a moment, her blank expression cracked. Small, but clear — a fracture of emotion appeared. It wasn't hope yet… but it was the beginning of it.
"Thank you... Kaelis."
He simply nodded. And this time, he was the first to smile. Subtle. Genuine.
The café might have been empty, but at that table, two souls touched in silence — like a quiet promise of something new. And for Cassia, in that moment, not seeing the world was less frightening than facing it alone.
Because now, she knew she wasn't alone anymore.