There were no gods in his dream.
No chains. No rules.
Just a world that finally shut up.
No yelling, no whispers. No pretending.
Sky like velvet, wind like silence. People were kind there.
Or maybe they just… weren't there.
Peace.
Perfect. Quiet. Real.
Then—
"Veyron!"
A sharp jab to the shoulder.
The dream shattered.
He opened his eyes. Gray walls. Fluorescent buzz. Chalk squeaking across a board.
Miss Halden towered over him, arms crossed. Same tone. Same look. The look teachers give to kids they gave up on.
"You sleep through one more class, you fail."
Cool. As if he wasn't already failing life.
---
Five minutes 'til freedom.
Veyron slouched deeper into his chair, fingers tapping against his phone in his pocket. One more class. One more waste of breath.
Then he could finally log in. Be himself. Be seen.
His school uniform hung off him—black blazer, worn-down shirt, loose tie like a noose half-pulled. Hair messy. Eyes blank.
The kind of look you earn, not choose.
Across the room sat the usual suspects:
Zeke Vale — the loud one.
Juno Ares — the sharp one.
They didn't just pick on him.
They studied him.
Like breaking him was a school project.
"You look tired, Philosopher Boy," Zeke smirked. "Dreaming of your fake little paradise again?"
Juno grinned. "Or maybe just dreaming of not being you."
They laughed.
Of course they laughed.
Zeke walked by and "accidentally" sliced Veyron's sleeve open with a paperclip bent like a blade. A scratch. Not deep. Just enough.
He didn't flinch.
Pain's cheaper than pretending.
And they know he won't fight back.
---
Everyone's bound to something, Veyron thought.
Kids to teachers. Teachers to bosses. Bosses to bigger bosses.
All of them pretending they're free.
"Hurting me is free," he whispered under his breath.
"It costs them nothing.
So they do it every day."
He looked around.
No one noticed.
No one cared.
---
Bell rings.
Students scatter like rats. Veyron walks alone, sleeve torn, phone buzzing in his hand.
"Join Call – Fortis, Wraith, Echo"
He taps "Accept."
"Yo, where were you?" Fortis asks.
"Class," Veyron mutters.
"Dude, you missed the boss drop," Wraith says.
"You guys die again without me?" Veyron smirks.
"Obviously," Echo replies quietly. "It's not the same without you."
This is where he breathes.
Not in school. Not in hallways.
But here—where he's not "Veyron the Loser."
Here, he's someone that matters.
---
Final bell.
He steps outside. Sky's gray like it forgot how to shine.
Everyone's gone. He's still here.
He presses a hand against his chest.
He feels nothing. No rage. No fear. No joy.
Just that spark.
That tiny, silent feeling.
Like something's waking up inside.
Something cold.
Something ancient.
Something free.
> "This is not a life," he says to no one.
"This is a cage with Wi-Fi."
And he walks into the dark.
---