Outside the academy grounds, a young man stood still, gazing at the white building in the distance. That was the place where the Sleepers would soon gather, those like him, preparing for whatever trial or nightmare lay ahead.
He had dark hair and brown eyes, and a lean, unremarkable frame dressed neatly in the standard-issue Academy uniform. His features were unnaturally handsome, though they now carried a trace of weariness that hadn't been there before.
Snow had settled thickly across the park, blanketing everything in sight. It muffled the world, softening sound and light alike, creating a scene that was somehow both calm and ominous. There was a quiet beauty to it, yes, but it was the kind of beauty that reminded him of a battlefield long after the fighting had ended.
Anathan yawned, more from mental fatigue than the nightmare's call. It hadn't even been a full month since he had arrived in this world. He'd been forcibly pulled from the life he once knew, his consciousness thrust into the body of a seventeen-year-old boy.
Since then, everything had spiraled at breakneck speed.
He had been dropped into his first nightmare trial with no warning, barely survived it, and, against all odds, emerged with an Aspect to call his own. It was a feat that should have been impossible, especially for someone who had come from a reality so far removed from magic and monsters.
'I'm never going to love transmigration again.'
That thought echoed bitterly in his head as he stood there, silently sulking. The more he learned about this world, the less comfort he found in it.
There were Aspects, there were Awakened, and there was something disturbingly Apocalyptic about the entire setup. It reminded him of one of those flashy, high-budget, triple-A games, except this wasn't a game. It was far too real.
He had already come far too close to death, too many times, to pretend otherwise.
A shiver ran through his body, not because of the cold, but because of the memories. The first nightmare trial had left its mark on him. Even now, pieces of it clung to the edges of his thoughts like a stain he couldn't wash out. Then there was the wilderness training, which had tested him in entirely different ways. He was grateful, at least, that his mind was exceptional; he could absorb information quickly and retain it well, but even that wasn't enough to settle the gnawing sense of dread about what came next.
The Dream Realm was unpredictable and cruel. There was no guarantee of safety. A beginner might find themselves in a relatively easy zone meant for new arrivals, or they might open their eyes to find a demon king staring back at them.
'I'm never going to love systems again.'
It all came down to consequences. Every powerful ability had a flaw lurking behind it, waiting to make itself known. People tried to explain it with words like "balance" or with high-minded philosophy about the flawed nature of humanity, but none of that helped him.
To him, it was just another way the universe reminded him he was playing a rigged game.
He let out a quiet sigh. He had once been the kind of person who devoured dark fantasy stories, loved the complexity and cruelty of their worlds. But now that he was living inside one, it had lost all its charm. None of it was thrilling anymore. Now it was just about surviving.
"Status," he muttered, the word familiar now as he called up the glowing runes that floated into view. It was a habit, a small reassurance. A way to remind himself that, for all the chaos, he was strong. And maybe, just maybe, he would be okay.
Name: Anathan.
True Name: He Who Must Not Be Named.
Rank: Dreamer.
Elder Wand: Dormant.
Soul Fragments: 0 / 1000
Echoes: -
Memories: -
Attributes:
[Great Memory] Attribute Description:
[You have a sharpened mind.]
[Occlumens] Attribute Description:
[The structure of your soul instinctively resists foreign presence. Your Mind becomes a sealed vault.]
Aspect: [Wizard]
[Born naturally attuned to magic. Congratulations—you're a wizard!]
Aspect Rank: Divine.
Aspect Ability: [Spellcasting: Lesson I]
[You have inherited arcane knowledge, and can cast a variety of spells.]
[Lesson I]
Force: [Accio]
Utility: [Reparo], [Lumos], [Nox]
Essential: [Stupefy], [Protego]
Control: [Incarcerous]
Silent Spells: [Basic Cast]
[A raw projection of soul essence. Its strength and behavior depend on the caster's emotional state, intent, and focus.]
Innate Ability: [My Soul Is An Elder Wand]
[The Elder Wand is the manifestation of your Soul. It is a supreme conduit, loyal to none but you. When summoned, it empowers your spells beyond natural limits—and it will not tolerate another hand.]
Flaw: [Tethered Manifestation]
[Casting spells without a wand is impossible.]
"Yep. I'll be fine," he muttered.
'As long as I protect my wand.'
***
Soon, Anathan and his batchmates were led into the medical facility, only to be dropped into a scene far more disturbing than any of them had expected.
The elevator doors opened onto a deserted floor, revealing a wide gallery bathed in the beautiful, crimson light of the setting sun. The warm glow filtered through tall windows, illuminating the space with an almost surreal beauty.
And in that light, they saw them.
Rows upon rows of wheelchairs stretched across the floor. In each one sat a person—silent, still, and utterly motionless. Their expressions were eerily blank, almost serene, as if they were sleeping with their eyes open. None of them responded to the presence of the newcomers. They sat there, detached from everything around them.
They looked peaceful. But more than that, they looked empty.
The sight hit Anathan like a blow to the chest. A strange, sinking horror settled in his stomach.
"There's a reason I brought you all here," Instructor Rock said, his voice calm but heavy. "Look closely. And remember this. Some of you might even recognize a few of them. For those who don't, they're called the Hollow."
Anathan felt his jaw tighten.
"These people were once like you," the instructor continued. "Some were Sleepers. Some were Awakened. Some of them were weak, others strong. A few were even powerful enough to be considered legends. But all of them met the same fate. They perished in the Dream Realm."
Rock paused, letting the silence stretch before speaking again.
"If you're lucky, your body dies when your spirit is destroyed. But if you're not… you end up like this. Neither dead nor alive. Just Hollow."
His gaze shifted deliberately toward a group standing to the side, some of the most well-known legacies in the batch. Anathan followed the glance and recognized Caster and Nephis among them.
Then Rock's voice dropped lower, colder.
"So don't die out there."