On the day of the winter solstice, the Peregrine awoke feeling tired and drowsy. No matter how hard he tried to shake it off, the weariness clung to him like a fog that refused to lift. In the end, he simply stayed in bed for a while, wrapped in a blanket.
That feeling of endless, enveloping drowsiness was the same as what he had felt in the days leading up to his First Nightmare. Something he couldn't remember clearly, yet paradoxically found intriguing.
Driven by his curious nature — which had been heightened ever since he had "awakened" in this world, once nothing more than a narrative to him — Ariandel found the idea of living a fantasy thrilling, even knowing how deadly it could be.
"Ugh," he muttered, massaging his temples. It was a gesture he disliked, but at that moment, it felt appropriate.
'What was the name of the chapter that narrated this day in the novel? Ah, 'Last Day on Earth'... yes, that was it. And at least, it will be that way for a while.'
By nightfall, the Spell would carry him and the other Sleepers into the Realm of Dreams. What would they face in that magical, ruined world? Ariandel only knew what had been described in the novel — a vague vision, compared to the deadly richness of reality.
But guessing was pointless. He had already done all he could to prepare for the inevitable. He had studied, trained, and possessed so many advantages he wouldn't lose even to the Legacies. His Aspect was possibly the best among the Divine Rank. His conviction was unwavering, and his resolve, forged over two lifetimes, made him a formidable force against fate.
With a sigh, Ariandel rose and followed his morning routine. If that were to be his last warm bath for a long time, he intended to savor every moment. He also decided he would no longer hide from curious gazes that day.
...
The coffee shop was full of Sleepers, but silence reigned. Everyone seemed downcast and introspective, lacking the usual laughter or lively conversation. Even the Legacies, usually confident, remained reserved.
While waiting in line, Ariandel casually watched the other Sleepers pour their own cups.
When he saw someone fill their cup with sugar, he pressed his lips together in exasperation.
Since entering the Academy, he had developed an irrational disdain for the habit of sweetening coffee. Bitterness was part of its essence, and trying to soften it seemed like an almost sacrilegious act.
'If you don't like the bitterness, then don't drink it! Actually, do drink it — but without sugar!' he thought in irritation, though a shadow of humor softened his expression.
Minutes later, he took his usual place near Cassia, waiting for Sunless, who always joined them simply because he had no other choice. Despite the forced proximity, Sunless and Cassia had never spoken — not even with Ariandel influencing their fates.
He was curious to see if that would change.
As soon as Sunless sat down, Cassia suddenly turned her head toward him, her beautiful blind blue eyes fixed on him.
He looked around, checking if anyone else had caught her attention, and after making sure no one was behind him, he asked:
"W-what?"
Cassia remained silent. Her lips parted, but no words came for a second. It was as if she were deciding whether or not to speak.
"Congratulations," she said at last, gently.
Ariandel sighed inwardly. In the world of Shadow Slave, Fate was a real force, and altering its plot was no simple task.
'But at least I don't have to fear the uncertainty of the future,' he consoled himself, trying to focus on the bright side.
Sunless cast a wary glance at Cassia, opened his mouth to question her, then gave up. He seemed more afraid of the girl than he was of the Peregrine.
"Uh... thanks."
Cassia simply nodded and turned her face away, losing interest in continuing the conversation.
Respecting the heavy mood that hung over the Dreamers, Ariandel restrained his usual good humor — though his quiet confidence continued to unsettle Sunless.
...
As he sipped his black coffee, Ariandel caught himself wondering: When is his birthday, and how old is he really... 16, 17, or 18?
It was a random thought, but it soon entwined with another: the Dormant Ability of Cassia's Aspect. She could see people's Attributes. What had she thought of him when she saw his?
He hadn't noticed any change in her behavior, no notable reaction. Perhaps she hadn't seen his Attributes yet, or simply didn't care. The second option seemed more likely. After all, at that moment, Cassia seemed immersed in total despair.
He suspected her attempt to gain support from the government or the great clans — by revealing her Sacred Rank Aspect — had failed, just like in the original story. If she were convinced she was doomed to die in the Realm of Dreams, nothing else would matter.
Perhaps that was why she clung to Ariandel's presence, even if the comfort she found in him was only a fleeting escape from reality.
'How old is Cassia now?' he wondered. 'Sixteen, right?'
'Ahh, dystopian world,' Ariandel lamented, exasperated.
...
The Peregrine left the coffee shop to visit the Jungle Survival classroom. There were no classes that day, but he wanted to say goodbye to Professor Julius. Following in Sunless's footsteps, he found the young man there, receiving yet another flood of tips from the professor — a gossipy but genuine man, whose care touched even the hardened heart of Sunless.
After expressing his gratitude for the professor's patience and dedication, Ariandel left the room.
...
When the sun began to set, the Sleepers were gathered in the Center's lobby and led outside by Instructor Rock. In the snowy parks surrounding the white building, other groups of Sleepers were also heading to the same destination: the Academy's medical center.
The building, which looked more like a chapel than a hospital, housed advanced technology and the finest Healers among the Awakened. There, the bodies of the Sleepers would be kept in special capsules and sustained by healing powers while their souls traveled through the Realm of Dreams.
Of course, their return depended solely on their survival in that perilous world.
But instead of leading them directly to the capsule ward, Instructor Rock took the group to a deserted floor and opened the doors to a wide gallery lit by the last crimson rays of the sun.
There, in organized rows, sat wheelchairs occupied by motionless people. Their peaceful, expressionless faces emanated a strange and disturbing silence.
Knowing what he would find, Ariandel wasn't as shaken as he had expected. A solemn weight settled over him as his eyes wandered among the still figures. The sight of those empty bodies, kept there, seemed like a silent affront to the dignity of the lives that had once pulsed within them.
'What's the point of keeping a body? It's just flesh...'
But he knew how fragile people were — especially when it came to the loss of a loved one. They would rather keep a soulless shell than let go of what was left of the one they loved so deeply.
Instructor Rock looked at the vacant people, his eyes marked by his own solemnity.
"There's a reason I brought you all here. Look closely and remember. Some of you might know who these people are... For those who don't, they are called the Hollow."
Ariandel's calm gave way to a corner of his mind marked by a nagging curiosity.
"Each one of them was either a Sleeper or an Awakened. Some were weak, some were strong. Some were even incredibly powerful. All of them perished in the Realm of Dreams."
Instructor Rock looked at him, then toward where Caster and Nephis stood, and added:
"So don't die out there."
...
Later, in their assigned rooms, the Sleepers prepared to enter the PODs.
In one of them, Cassia explored the space with her hands, trying to orient herself in the unfamiliar environment. Silent tears streamed down her delicate face, as if the pain of her soul were spilling out.
In another, the Legacy Caster trembled as he repeated an indistinct phrase to himself, his lips barely moving.
Nephis, meanwhile, stared at her hands, where a soft white light began to pulse beneath the skin. Her face showed a restrained, yet devastating agony.
And in his own room, Ariandel looked at the POD before him. His twin stared back at him with a challenging, arrogant expression — the Refraction that followed him like a shadow invisible to others.
"I'm ready. And you, are you ready?"
The Refraction gave no answer. He was already too tired of its company to allow it to speak.
"Come on, return to my soul."
With a final glance at the room, the Peregrine entered the POD.
...
In the vast darkness that enveloped him, a tender voice echoed:
[Welcome to the Realm of Dreams, Prince of Fantasy!]