A Weirdo and a Lunatic

The Sleeper part of the compound was relatively small and situated in the southern part of the Academy, surrounded on all sides by training fields and parks.

It was a low, modern building constructed with reinforced materials. Like the majority of buildings in the Academy, most of it was hidden below the ground, leaving only a couple of floors above it. With its white, pristine alloy walls and wide windows, it must have looked beautiful in the summer, contrasted against all the greenery around.

Inside, the building was spacious and well-lit. Sunny, Valen and the aura farming silver-haired girl were taken to a large hall where a hundred or so of young men and women — Sleepers of the same unfortunate timing as the two of them — were already waiting for the beginning of the induction ceremony. Most of them were nervous, tense and excited.

Logistics of the Academy were a constant headache for the administrators since the rate at which the Spell infected people was always chaotic. There was no way to orderly structure for batches of Sleepers to undergo any type of standardized education on a shared schedule: some of them had a full year to prepare for the Dream Realm, some only months, some even mere days.

That's why these induction ceremonies were held each month at the beginning of the year and then every week once the winter solstice began to loom near. Some of the Sleepers in the hall had to wait days to be inducted, while Sunny had lucked out and was delivered to the Academy just hours before the scheduled event.

Once inside the hall, he understood two things.

Firstly, everyone was well-dressed and in possession of a suitcase, a duffel bag, or at least a backpack carrying their personal belongings. They were obviously coming prepared, most likely from home, sent off by their families. So Sunny and the silver-haired girl, who came empty-handed and wearing simple police-issued clothes, were not a norm like he had assumed, but actually an eye-catching anomaly.

Except Valen had to steal the show.

Somehow, in the short time between being dumped into the Academy and now, the bastard had managed to score a whole fit. Not just any clothes either — he looked like he'd stepped out of a moody fashion editorial for exiled nobles.

Dark, tailored trousers hugged his long legs. A black turtleneck fit snugly to his broad frame. And over it all, a sweeping brown coat hung from his shoulders.

What the hell is he wearing?

Then, just when Sunny thought he'd adjusted to the absurdity, Valen reached into his pocket with slow, deliberate fingers and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Thick-rimmed and Jet black.

Sunny's mouth opened. Closed and opened again.

Who wears sunglasses underground?!

What is he trying to block, the fluorescent lighting??

The silver-haired girl next to him blinked.

Sunny could practically feel the smug radiating off him.

Sunless immediately walked away, desperately trying not to be associated with this clown.

After distancing himself a bit, he slowed down trying to ignore Valens stupid outfit and focus on the Sleepers Infront of him.

'Master Jet was not being overly humble when she called herself below average by Awakened standards. Even though these young people were just starting their paths as Awakened, their looks were dazzling. Everyone was handsome, beautiful and radiated health.'

He swallowed. 

'Still, I feel like none of them compare. She might not be as perfectly shaped, but… I don't know… she has a presence. It's like shadows become deeper and the temperature drops by a couple of degrees when she's in a room.' 

As Sunny was glazing Master Jet in his mind. Valen lifted his glasses, checking out his reflection and admiring his fit.

'No need to worry about my flaw now.'

Valen snickered to himself as he put on the sunglasses.

The glasses were tailor-made, tinted so heavily that he was practically blind. But as Valen thought, it did protect him from his flaw.

'Stylish and safe. I'm a genius!'

***

After leaving Valen, Sunny had tried to mingle with the Sleepers, but, that proved to be a challenge on its own and in half an hour, pretty much everyone in the room hated his guts.

After just a few series of conversations, Sunny had acquired a reputation of an obnoxious, foul-mouthed pervert. This reputation was quickly solidified. He was slapped a few times and even punched once. He also discovered a couple of new things about his true self — namely, that deep down inside he was apparently rude, arrogant, and more than a little bit lustful.

The conversations went something like this:

"Look at all these young people. How many do you think will return from the Dream Realm? How many will perish? What do you think our own chances of survival are?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that a pompous fool like you will die first!"

Or:

"I even received an armor-type Memory in my Nightmare. It's an enchanted robe. Would you like to see?"

"Actually, I would prefer to see you without a robe…"

Or:

"Then those lowlifes began to rob the bodies. It was disgusting! They even took their shoes! What kind of degenerate would take a dead man's shoes?"

"I once killed a man and took his boots. They were nice boots."

"... What? You killed someone just for a pair of boots?"

"Of course not! There were other reasons. I also took his cloak."

Eventually, people stopped approaching him altogether. Valen, for whatever reason, was avoided too.

'Must be his Flaw,' Sunny thought bitterly. 'Or… maybe the sunglasses. Actually, where did he even get those?'

Finally, he found a quiet corner. His face stung. Blood dripped from his nose. The sting of social rejection was familiar… but it still hurt.

Still, he smiled.

Because in the process of alienating himself from the entire batch of Sleepers, Sunny had confirmed his hypothesis.

Once asked a question, he couldn't stay silent. He couldn't lie, either. But — and this was the important part — he could influence the way the truth came out.

The Flaw worked like this: once a question was asked, his mind immediately conjured the truth. After that, pressure would build until he spoke it aloud. The longer he held out, the worse the pain. Eventually, he'd have to surrender.

But in that painful window before surrender, he could twist the wording. As long as it was technically true, he could shape the message.

For example, if Master Jet ever caught him staring and asked what he was looking at, he could force out a "You" — still the truth, but miles better than blurting out exactly what he was thinking.

Hidden in the corner, Sunny grinned at the crowd.

'This is good. This is great. I can work with this.'

After all, one didn't need to lie to deceive. Sometimes, the truth was the best material for crafting a lie.

Take the boots story. Technically, it was true. He had taken boots and a cloak off a dead man. But the real reason he killed the slaver was because the man had whipped him earlier — and was already dying. The cloak wasn't relevant.

Still, phrased the way he said it, the impression was completely different.

And impressions were everything.

Now, it was time for another experiment.

Sunny's main goal was simple: no one could ever discover his True Name. To achieve that, he needed people to believe he was pathetic. Weak. A total non-threat.

But since he couldn't lie, he couldn't just say he had a low appraisal.

So he had to be clever about it.

His eyes landed on a group of confident-looking Sleepers gathered around a tall, handsome young man.

The young man had brown hair and a gentle, handsome face. His eyes were green, with a hint of friendly humor. His posture, figure and attentive gaze betrayed someone who went through extensive training. Everything about the young man screamed of nobility and strength.

Just at that moment, one of his companions was saying with a tone of amazement:

"Ascended? You have received an Ascended Aspect? What… what was your Appraisal?!"

The young man smiled humbly.

"Oh. It was "excellent."

Sunny stopped in front of the group, as though by accident. After hearing the young man's answer, he frowned and looked at him with disdain.

Then, with a voice full of utter bewilderment, Sunny said:

"Ascended, excellent? That's it? What's the big deal?"

***

Meanwhile, Valen — practically blind behind his sunglasses — heard the commotion.

Was that Sunny?

From the sound of it, he was getting beat up by a girl.

Valen furrowed his brow.

Sunny wasn't someone who acted like this for no reason. He was calculated. Cunning. So… what the hell was his plan here?

After sitting in a corner for a while Sunny moved again, striking a conversation with a group of Sleepers

So Valen waited for a while then slowly inched closer.

"—He's a Legacy," 

A Legacy?

'Pathetic,' Valen thought, unimpressed

"Are you seriously trying to pull a prank on me? You call this remarkable?!"

Sunny shouted, sounding like he was actively trying to provoke them.

Was he intentionally trying to get himself beat up?

'…Maybe his Flaw made him a masochist?'

"Listen, friend," someone said, annoyed. "If you don't think an Ascended Aspect is remarkable, then what was your Appraisal? Huh? What did you get?"

Sunny paused dramatically.

"I'll have you know… my Appraisal was, uh, glorious. Yeah. Glorious. And my Aspect? Divine-rank."

The moment Sunny said "Divine-rank", Valen froze mid-thought.

'…What?'

He stared at Sunny — who stood there grinning like a man with a death wish — and watched the reactions around him. The crowd looked half a second from violence.

But Sunny kept going.

"I killed an, uh… an Awakened tyrant."

"Oh really? How?"

An arrogant look appeared on Sunny's face.

"How? Let me tell you, I didn't even have to lift a finger. I just spat, and it was torn to pieces!"

Valen groaned internally. Okay. He's full bullshitting now.

He was one sentence away from getting kicked in the head when—

"Ahem."

Valen's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"Pardon me, friends, but I'm going to need to borrow this one for a minute."

He slung an arm around Sunny's shoulders and offered them a smile.

"I hope he hasn't been a bother" Valen added. "Bit touched in the head, y'know?"

He made a gentle circle with his finger next to his temple.

The group slowly nodded, with one replying

"He's not… all there, is he?"

"Unfortunately not," Valen replied, adjusting his glasses. "We think the Nightmare left him a little scrambled. Just smile and nod — it's what we do."

The group collectively relaxed, as if a strange pressure had been lifted.

The green-eyed Legacy — Caster, apparently — gave Valen a sympathetic smile. "It happens. Poor guy."

"Right? We try not to let him talk to strangers unsupervised," Valen said with a sheepish grin. "Appreciate your patience."

He gently guided Sunny away from the group.

They'd almost made it to safety when someone muttered just loud enough to be heard:

"A weirdo and a lunatic. Figures they'd be friends."

Valen sighed, blood rushing to his head.

"Welp. Guess that would've been too simple, wouldn't it?" 

***