'The train incident...'
However, Asher's information was frustratingly vague.
The dreams had only shown him a fragment of the chaos — flashes of explosions, wrecked arc-train, passengers screaming, and strange masked attackers. And a mention about it during the opening ceremony.
Moreover, he didn't know which specific train would be attacked, or exactly how.
He also had no clue if he'd be caught in the storm or simply a bystander.
All he could do was prepare.
He trained relentlessly, honing the skills gleaned from those nebulous dreams.
His dwindling funds vanished into purchasing low-grade defensive artifacts and healing potions—his makeshift shields against the unknown.
Talking to his family crossed his mind briefly, but he quickly squashed the thought.
They'd dismiss it as another desperate cry for help, or worse, label him insane and lock him away.
As for the government, they'd demand proof he didn't possess, wasting precious moments he couldn't afford to lose.
And honestly, he couldn't blame them.
He barely believed it himself after all. And if he had blindly accepted a nightmare as prophecy the moment he woke up, he would have been a fool.
And Asher refused to be a fool.
That was why, over the last week, he had obsessively cross-referenced the dream's minor details with reality. The dreams predicted a famous Arcanist's death. It happened just a few days ago. They predicted a specific celebrity scandal involving the Crown Prince Jade. It happened just as he dreamt.
But... was that enough?
Despite the evidence, part of him, the rational, terrified part, still feared he was just a stress-induced lunatic who was about to waste his savings on a delusion.
Logic dictated he should ignore the exam.
If the dreams were false, he was wasting time. If they were true, he was walking into a deathtrap. Staying home was the only safe option.
But safety was a luxury he couldn't afford.
That option lay buried beneath layers of suffocating ambition.
The academy was his sole chance for power, the key to escape his gilded cage. Skipping the exam meant watching his siblings soar while he rotted, trapped in a life waiting for destiny to strike.
So, he treated this train ride as the final, terrifying litmus test.
He was betting his life to verify his sanity. If the train arrived safely, he was just paranoid. But if it crashed? Then the nightmare was the absolute truth, and he had a chance to rewrite it.
So, he boarded, his heart racing like a wild stallion against his ribs.
He chose this specific train line and time based on a few contextual clues from the dreams, a mention of "the morning express before the opening ceremony."
It was the best guess he could make.
He'd also considered hiring a bodyguard, but he lacked both funds and trust.
He'd thought about warning the train conductor anonymously, but what would he say?
'Hey, the train will be attacked soon, but I learned it in a dream, and I don't know the how, who, or exact when?'
They'd either laugh or have him detained for causing a panic. Honestly, he wasn't well-versed in this field. And if he got caught… the consequences would be severe.
In the end, his plan was brutally simple: stay alert, stay near an exit, and use his artifacts the moment anything seemed off.
Survive!
That was step one.
Step two was passing the exam.
Step three was finding the main characters from his dreams and… well, he hadn't figured that part out yet.
Avoiding them seemed smart. Not getting in their way seemed even smarter.
Or maybe, if he could just slip through the cracks of the plot, he could live.
"..."
Asher frowned slightly at his thoughts. He didn't like his lack of confidence.
'No, I will live!' He promised himself, vowing to rewrite his future. 'I will-!'
His silent vow was cut short by a sudden, violent lurch.
A deafening CRUNCH of shearing metal screamed through the carriage. The train wrenched violently to the side, throwing Asher from the bunk.
The lights died with a pop, plunged into darkness for a split second before harsh red emergency strips flared to life along the floor and ceiling.
The shriek of buckling alloy was drowned out by a deeper, more terrifying sound from outside - a wet, thunderous BOOM as the train's protective arcana shield was struck by something massive.
Asher hit the floor, his eyes wide in the red gloom. The doubt vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, horrific clarity.
The nightmare was real. And...
"It's begun!"
He gasped, adrenaline overriding his fear.
He slapped a palm against his chest, activating the pre-drawn protection rune sewn into his inner jacket. A shimmering, honeycombed barrier of amber light flickered to life around him.
Another slap to his legs triggered the physical boost rune.
However, before he could even rise, the train convulsed once more.
WHAM!
The jolt hurled him across the compartment, crashing into the wall near the door. His barrier flared white, valiantly absorbing the impact.
At the same time, the privacy field on the upper bunk shorted out with a fizzle and a shower of dying sparks.
Above, Ryn, jarred from his light doze by the first impact, was now fully airborne.
The second violent heave shot him cleanly from the top bunk. In that fleeting moment, instinct kicked in. He hit the door with his back for the minimum impact before landing squarely on Asher, who had been trying to regain his footing.
"Oof!" Asher grunted, the wind knocked out of him, his barrier straining under the weight.
For a moment, there was only the cacophony of screams, blaring alarms, and distant yet close explosions.
Then, washed in lurid red light, Asher found himself staring up, half-dazed and half-annoyed, at the calm, mildly irritated face of the stranger who had fallen right on top of him.
"Can you get off of me?" Asher spat out, glaring at the dark-blue-haired boy who seemed no older than him.
"Oh, sorry, didn't see you here," The boy replied before slowly standing up and looking around lazily.
'How can he be so carefree?'