Infirmary

Sunny blinked, stared at the screen, and blinked again. 

'No… that couldn't be right.'

But the numbers remained, stark and unyielding.

Twenty-five.

'What in the world did I just do?'

Not only had he failed to hold back, but he had also overdone it. Completely.

Sure, he was stronger than before. The weight of sixty-eight soul fragments strengthened his body. But that shouldn't have been enough. At most, he had expected a score of nineteen—maybe twenty if he was being generous.

And yet, the truth was glaring at him, impossible to ignore.

Sunny's gaze shifted downward, toward his sleeve. Beneath the fabric, the culprit slumbered—the silent, insidious tattoo coiling around his wrist.

The soul serpent.

His jaw clenched. 

The Soul serpent allowed him to manipulate a little bit of essence—barely anything, just a sliver of what awakened could do naturally. However, he could manipulate it with the efficiency of a master. He instinctively drew upon it in the single, critical moment before his fist had connected with the metal plate. Subconsciously.

That absurd score was the result.

Now, he stood in the middle of the dojo, buried under the weight of countless stares. Shock. Awe. Disbelief. And something else—hatred.

Whispers slithered through the crowd like creeping shadows. And the group of legacies were the source of the nastiest ones.

"D-did you look at that?"

"How the hell did he score higher than Caster?"

"He must have cheated. There's no way…"

"Yeah. His Aspect must manipulate the readings or something"

But not all the eyes on him were filled with hostility. Some gleamed with something else—intrigue, and hope. A non-legacy had stolen the spotlight, outshining the legacies. 

The atmosphere shifted. Some people looked at him with admiration, seeing his success as their own. They might try to cosy up to him now, hoping to gain favour from possibly the strongest sleeper in their batch, just like they did with Caster. 

And some… some were staring at him with regret, embarrassed at every sideways glance, every moment of disdain they had thrown his way due to his association with the blind girl. 

But none of that mattered. Not right now.

Because right now, Sunny only cared about one thing. He could feel one gaze that burned hotter than the rest. From the far end of the dojo, a pair of silver eyes bore into him—unblinking, unyielding.

Nephis.

She said nothing. She did nothing. She simply watched. 

What emotion gleamed in her eyes, what hid beneath her non-expressive face… he did not know. His mind raced, but for once, his instincts failed him. All the time he had spent with Nephis did not help him.

Happiness? No.

Anger? No.

Caution? Fear? No.

Then what was it? What was she thinking about? What was she feeling? 

A cold feeling crawled up his spine.

Was it... betrayal? 

Did she believe he had hidden his true strength on purpose? That he had misled her in their previous fight, pretending to be weaker than he was, so he could strike her unexpectedly later?Did his little display cement his image as an assassin in her mind? Was she now looking at him as a threat? An enemy?

The idea twisted something in his gut.

Sunny did not want her to look at him that way, to always garb the hilt of her sword when near him. He did not want her to think of him as a liar, as a deceiver, as someone plotting in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike her.

For a fleeting, irrational moment, the urge to walk down toward her, begging her to let him explain himself nearly overwhelmed him. 

He probably would have, if not for a deep voice cutting through the murmurs.

"That was a good punch, sleeper Sunless."

Instructor Rock approached with a small smile, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the hushed dojo. 

"I must say, I'm impressed. We don't usually see this kind of raw strength from Sleepers, even those with combat-oriented Aspects. Yours must be quite something."

His tone was warm, almost congratulatory. More than that, it was genuine. The man was genuinely happy at Sunny's achievement. But Sunny saw it—a sharp glint of suspicion lurking beneath the praise.

He had crafted his image carefully, manipulated the interview to make himself seem unimpressive. Weak. A harmless, unremarkable Sleeper with no outstanding talents.

And now, in a single moment, that careful deception had been shattered.

Sunny wondered what the instructor truly thought. The government spent a lot of resources on sleepers and probably expected them to be trusting and cooperative. They didn't force sleepers to reveal anything against their wishes, but what he had done was a blatant display of deception, a deliberate misrepresentation of his abilities.

But there was no time to dwell on it. His mind was already too burdened—his heart, too heavy from the newfound pain.

Yet he smiled.

"To be honest, even I had no idea I could score so high," he said lightly. "It was completely unexpected."

Instructor Rock chuckled. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that only Sunny could hear.

"You don't have to explain yourself."

His voice was even, but sincere. Hearing it somehow lessened his burden, even if only a little. "I'm not here to question you. My job is to make sure you're as prepared as possible to survive the Dream Realm. That's all."

Then, straightening, he turned back to the gathered Sleepers. With a single motion of his hand, the lingering whispers died down. 

"Now, we move to sparring. I'll be evaluating your combat training and general skill level. Who wants to go first?"

After that, Sunny barely heard him. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a mess of uncertainty and unease. 

Every second that passed only made the weight in his chest grow heavier.

He needed to act. He had to do something, anything, to reconcile with Nephis, to restore her trust in him.

It was strange. 

Despite how he felt, Nephis was not his friend yet. She wasn't even his ally. They were acquaintances at best. For all she knew, he just chose not to use his aspect in their duel to make it a contest of pure talent, just like her. And now he just didn't have a reason to hold back.

She probably didn't even give his performance a second thought. All his speculation of her believing him to be an assassin could only be in his mind for spell's sake! But it was still there, a tiny possibility. The idea that she might…

That she might feel betrayed—

It gnawed at him.

It was absurd, irrational even. But the thought wouldn't leave his mind.

The way she had looked at him right before his strike- the quiet excitement in her eyes. The thought of her gleam fading into disappointment had been too much to bear. It was the reason for his current predicament.

He clenched his jaw.

If only he had controlled himself. If only he had held back his emotions at that instant—

"Next."

Instructor Rock's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Sleeper Sunless, it's your turn."

The sudden voice jolted him out of his daze. 

Sunny blinked.

Before him, an array of Sleepers lay sprawled across the floor, groaning in pain or completely still. And in the centre of the ring stood Nephis. She was in her usual battle stance, her white hair flowing slightly as she turned toward him.

While he was lost in contemplation, she had already beaten most of the sleepers to dust. Only he, along with a handful of others including Caster, remained. 

Sunny exhaled slowly. 

What should he do now?

The logical course of action was clear—fight her, defeat her, then battle Caster and lose just convincingly enough to avoid suspicion. He needed to absorb Caster's battle style at every opportunity he got, while keeping a low profile.

…Or, at least, as low a profile as he could after his little accident with the punching machine.

But that didn't happen.

With a pained smile, he forced down the storm raging in his chest and stepped into the ring.

As his eyes met Nephis', his hand moved on its own—reaching out, as if to offer something unseen.

An apology.

"Nephis, I-"

Something slammed into him like a sledgehammer. A moment later, the world tilted sideways. Then it flipped completely.

Red.

A vivid, familiar color. It blurred the edges of his vision, seeping down from his forehead. His body lay sprawled on the cold dojo floor, a sharp, piercing ache spreading from his shoulder down to his ribs.

And yet…

A strange feeling of relief washed over him.

Sunny blinked up at the ceiling, dazed.

He had seen the kick coming. 

He could have dodged it. Blocked it. Countered it.

But he hadn't.

There was no logic to justify his action, or the lack thereof, no rational excuse for why he had simply let the attack land, why he had allowed himself to be crushed.

He just… wanted to.

Some incomprehensible impulse had compelled him to take the full force of her strike. An irrational belief, as if a whisper in his mind, told him that if he endured this, if he let her strike him without resistance, then maybe… just maybe… the guilt clawing at his chest would lessen.

Maybe it would be easier to ask for forgiveness. 

Or maybe there were other reasons he just couldn't fathom.

He scoffed internally. 

'Since when did I become so irrational and stupid?'

Instructor Rock stared at him. The entire dojo did, probably; he couldn't see anyone else, not from this angle. 

He mused, laughing internally at his pathetic condition. Then he exhaled slowly, clenched his teeth, and cursed. 

'What the hell, why did she hit me so damn hard!?'

His right shoulder ached and didn't move as he wanted it to. It was either dislocated or worse. His breathing was sharp and ragged—probably more than a couple broken ribs. And his head… his vision was starting to blur. He really could have used blood weave and bone weave right about now!

To hit him this hard…

'D-did she reinforce that kick with her aspect?'

It didn't make sense otherwise. 

Sunny tried to move his head, attempting to catch a glimpse of her. ...Only to realize his neckbone probably had a couple of cracks.

"Call the medics!" Instructor Rock's voice was sharp and immediate. "We have an emergency!"

Sunny barely heard him. He was too preoccupied with another, far more terrifying realization.

To go to such lengths... Was she actually trying to kill him?

His fingers twitched against the blood-slicked floor. His body throbbed in agony, but the pain was nothing compared to the cold dread pooling in his stomach.

'Just how bad does she hate me now?' 

Damnation.

 ...

Sunny was not seen for a few days after that. He was busy recovering in the medical ward. His absence did not go unnoticed. He was visited by quite a few people. 

First, a group of sleepers came to satisfy their curiosity. They wanted to know how someone who had shattered expectations on the punching machine could crumble so easily in a fight. Sunny gave them nothing—just a few nods and curt responses. He managed to convince them he was a total novice in combat and his aspect only enhanced his physical strength.

Then there were the legacies. They stood at his bedside with polite smiles and empty words, their amusement barely concealed beneath a veneer of civility. They didn't mock him outright, but the way their gazes lingered, the way their lips curled ever so slightly, made it clear: they were laughing inside. 

It was ever so easy to fool them; they practically already believed Sunny had cheated with the machine and would gobble up any response that supported their theory. 

'Laugh while you can, bastards! In the end, I'll be the one laughing.'

Caster was a bit different. Unlike other legacies, he only asked Sunny about his condition, as if he was genuinely concerned for him. He was pretty good at it. If Sunny hadn't known better, he probably would have been convinced Caster was his well wishes. 

He looked at the man exiting the door and grinned. 'Probably not. The past me was cynical and paranoid beyond belief!'

He looked at his shadow. It shook its head as if saying, 'What? You think you are any better now?' 

A few others came and went, some out of obligation, others testing the waters to see if they could befriend him. Even Cassie dropped by once, albeit probably for the former reason. Even if the two of them hadn't even spoken, he was the closest to her among all sleepers. 

...Just because he was the only one who sat close to her and didn't avoid her like a plague. 

Sunny sighed. He didn't want to deal with it now. 

Among all his visitors, only teacher Julius was different. 

"How long are you going to laze around, young man?" The old scholar's voice was as warm and vibrant as ever. "There's a whole treasury of knowledge waiting for you, yet here you are, wasting away in bed!"

Sunny couldn't help but smile. The old man had a way of lifting his spirits, and their conversations stretched for hours. From the nuances of ancient Dream Realm dialects to its fascinating histories to mundane topics of day-to-day life, teacher Julius filled every moment with something worth knowing. 

Like last time, Sunny was the only student of Wilderness Survival, so neither of them had anything better to do. Still, Sunny couldn't help but admire how relentless he was, drilling wisdom into him even here, as Sunny lay peacefully in bed. The old man was nothing if not passionate.

Meanwhile, his shadow was far from idle.

While his body rested, Moody prowled. It slithered unseen through the Academy, attending classes in his stead. It eavesdropped on the Nightmare Creatures lecture, its formless presence blending with the darkness as it listened to lessons about the horrors lurking in known areas of the dream realm. 

It slipped into the combat hall, fixating on Caster—analyzing every stance, every shift of weight, every precise stroke of his blade. It won't be long before Sunny shadowed his battle style.

It even slipped in classes Sunny hadn't enrolled in, gathering as many valuable lessons as possible. It was busy the entire day.

Knowledge was power. And Sunny was stockpiling it. 

...He also wanted to check in on Nephis. But for some reason, he never found her. Each time Moody sought her out after her classes ended for the day, she was already gone. He searched the dojo, the cafeteria, even the quiet corners of the campus where no one lingered.

Nothing. 

It was as if she was avoiding him on purpose. 

But that wasn't possible. She could not have known about his shadow.

'Where could she be?'

For a fleeting moment, the thought of checking the girl's dorm appeared in his mind and he blushed. Then, he tossed it aside. He could not lose his ability to answer such questions with a no! He doubted Nephis would waste time in her room anyway.

'Has she found a secret place to train after all?'

Eventually, he gave up. He didn't have time to waste either. He could take another class or two. 

As teacher Julius left his room, he closed his eyes. He had to soak in the abundance of knowledge in peace. Unfortunately, he didn't call his shadow back, not until the last class of the day ended and the dusk turned to night. 

...Otherwise, he would have noticed the shadow lurking outside his room in time.