WebNovels

The Dream that ends the World

Bosboa
14
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
They called it a war. It was never a war. It was a slaughter. The world is broken, bleeding under the weight of things that should not exist. From the smoke and ruin of a thousand battlefields, one name is whispered — not as a hero, but as a curse. Carter never asked to wear the armor. He never asked to bear the gaze of something older than empires, something that watches through his eyes and moves his body like a puppet on strings. Each night he sleeps, and each night he wakes to a new nightmare made flesh. But power demands a price, and Carter must decide whether he is the master of this darkness… or only its throne. In a land where kings bow to monsters and the dead outnumber the living, survival is not a victory. It is an invitation.
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Chapter 1 - The dream that changed his world

Chapter One

 

The classroom hummed with a lifeless energy, the kind that seeped into your bones and made every second drag like a punishment. Chalk scraped across the board in dull, grating strokes. The ceiling fan groaned under its own weight. Sunlight spilled in through the windows, mocking him.

 

Carter slouched in the middle row, shoulders hunched, dark hair tousled, cheeks puffing slightly as he stifled another yawn. He should have been taking notes, pretending to care—but his mind had already abandoned the monotony of lectures.

 

Today wasn't just another day.

 

It was release day.

 

Why am I even here? Carter thought, staring at the chalkboard. I could be home, controller in hand, doing something real instead of… this.

 

His eyelids drooped. The air pressed down on him with the weight of routine, sticky and suffocating.

 

Beside him, Adam leaned over, grin already spreading.

"Dude, you look like a corpse. Should I check your pulse, or just let you die of boredom?"

 

Carter rubbed his face. "If I pass out, just throw me out the window. At least the fall would be quicker than this lecture."

 

Adam smirked. "You're not fooling me. I know what day it is."

 

Carter cracked one eye at him. "And?"

 

"Your sacred holiday," Adam said, lowering his voice in mock reverence. "The Day of Release. Saints Console and Controller."

 

"Blasphemy," Carter muttered, slouching further. "It's a holy rite. Don't cheapen it."

 

Adam chuckled. "Can't believe you even showed up to school. Should've taken the day off and started your pilgrimage early."

 

"Don't tempt me," Carter sighed. "If I hear one more word about quadratic equations, I might dissolve on the spot."

 

The lecture dragged. Carter's eyes flicked to the clock again and again, each tick a taunt, a reminder that freedom was still out of reach.

 

Finally, the bell rang—sharp, merciful. It felt like a reprieve.

 

Books shoved into his bag, Carter pushed through the sea of classmates spilling into the streets. Voices buzzed with homework complaints, weekend plans, idle gossip. He walked among them, unnoticed, unseen.

 

"Yo, Carter!" Chris called, weaving through the hallway crowd. "You doing the math assignment tonight?"

 

Carter shook his head. "Nah. Got something bigger lined up."

 

Chris groaned. "Don't say it. Please don't say it."

 

Carter lifted a finger like a prophet. "The game. Tonight begins destiny."

 

Chris rolled his eyes. "How are you not failing every class?"

 

Adam butted in with a grin. "Because in his mind, Algebra counts as grinding XP. Problem is, he never levels up."

 

Chris snorted. "Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless."

 

"Correction," Carter said, backing away into the crowd. "Chosen."

 

At home, routine took over—shoes kicked off, bag dropped by the stairs, a distracted greeting to his mother. She mumbled something about dinner; he grunted a reply. Chest thrumming with restless energy, he washed up, changed, ate quickly, each motion a prelude to what he'd been waiting for.

 

Finally, in his room, Carter faced the prize.

 

The new game sat on his desk, still sealed. He picked it up carefully, fingers tracing the plastic with reverence. The disc slid into place.

 

The logo bloomed across the screen. Music thundered.

 

His heart raced.

 

This. This was what he had waited for.

 

Hours vanished. The outside world dissolved. No classroom. No chores. No voices. Only the clash of steel and cries of battle, only his own ragged breathing.

 

When he finally shut it off, silence pressed in. Midnight had passed unnoticed. His body sagged with exhaustion, but his mind still buzzed.

 

He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence pressed heavy around him.

 

"Tomorrow's Saturday," he whispered. "Would've been nice to hang out…" He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not that anyone's lining up to watch me button-mash through boss fights."

 

The laugh died as quickly as it came, leaving only the quiet.

 

"Guess it's just me and the save file."

 

There was no bitterness—just a strange calm, like he'd grown used to it.

 

He closed his eyes. Sleep pulled him under.

 

---

 

And then he wasn't in his room anymore.

 

Smoke and iron choked the air. A red sky loomed overhead, streaked like torn flesh across the horizon. The ground trembled beneath him, alive with the chaos of thousands clashing.

 

Carter spun around, disoriented. A battlefield stretched endlessly before him. Humans in battered armor fought desperately, their shouts rising like a broken chorus. Blood clung thick and dark to churned soil.

 

Their enemies…

 

Shapes shifted in the smoke—twisting, dissolving, impossible to comprehend. Some towered like cruel spires of flesh and shadow. Others collapsed into writhing blurs. Whenever he tried to focus, his mind recoiled.

 

One of them stilled. Its blur coalesced—or refused to. Carter's breath caught as it turned.

 

It looked at him.

 

Not at the soldiers. Not at the battlefield. At him.

 

Silence fell like a weight. His chest tightened. His body froze.

 

Something in that gaze reached through the battlefield, through smoke, through the nightmare itself—straight into him.

 

And then he woke.

 

Gasping, drenched in sweat, back in his dark room.

 

His heart still pounded like he hadn't escaped at all. And even though he was safe, he knew the nightmare wasn't done with him.

 

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