Whispers of the forgotten

Chapter 4: Shadows of Reality

The day had finally come when the students were to be briefed about the second dream. The atmosphere in the academy was tense, the air heavy with anticipation. For a month, they had trained tirelessly in mastering the control of Aether and honing their combat skills. Some excelled, while others struggled, their frustration growing with every passing day.

In the grand hall, the students assembled. The instructor, a man with stern eyes and a commanding voice, stood before them. His presence silenced the murmur of conversations.

"You have survived the first dream," he began, pacing the length of the hall. "You've taken your first steps into the world of Aether. But the journey ahead will test your resolve. The second dream is not just a trial—it is survival itself."

The instructor gestured toward a large map displayed behind him, depicting the four continents and the ominous Black Sun hanging over them. "The second dream will take you into uncharted territories, where you will face beasts and demons of the second and third tiers of power. These creatures are unlike the spiritual manifestations of the first dream. They are real, tangible, and deadly."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"For three days and nights, you will endure. You must find food, shelter, and survive against all odds. Some of you will emerge stronger, but know this—failure means death."

The Stratification of Power

The instructor turned his gaze to the rows of students. "Let me remind you of the layers of power in this world, not just for humans but for the creatures you will face. The Aetherial ranks are divided into nine tiers, and so are the levels of the beasts and demons. The monsters you encountered in the first dream were tier-one spirits. The second dream will pit you against tier-two and tier-three creatures."

He then began explaining the societal structure. "Remember, the world you live in is not kind. Nobles hoard the secrets of Aether, and commoners like many of you are left to fend for scraps. The church, which preaches purity and salvation, has become a tool of oppression, using fear to maintain control. Power does not come to those who deserve it, but to those who seize it."

As he spoke, the tension in the room grew. Some students clenched their fists, their resentment palpable. Others cast uneasy glances, unsure of their place in the grand scheme of things.

The First Step into Shadows

That evening, the students returned to their quarters. For Morpheus, the weight of the instructor's words lingered heavily. Sitting by the window, he gazed at the fading light of the sun, his dark eyes reflecting the emptiness within. The faint laughter of his peers echoed from the hallways, a stark contrast to the memories that haunted him.

As he packed for the upcoming trial, he overheard a heated conversation between two of his classmates, one a noble and the other a commoner.

"You'll never survive," sneered the noble, his tone dripping with disdain. "You're not even worthy of being here."

The commoner, his fists trembling, retorted, "We'll see who survives. Titles mean nothing in the dream."

Morpheus couldn't help but think about the cruelty of the world he lived in. Despite the grandeur of the academy, it was a microcosm of the world's inherent injustices.

Preparing for the Second Dream

Later that night, as they gathered in the courtyard, Morpheus felt a subtle shift in the air. The instructor stood before them once more, his voice echoing in the stillness.

"This is your final moment of peace before the second dream. Remember your training. Trust your instincts. And most importantly—survive."

As the Aetherial gates opened, a surge of energy engulfed the students. Morpheus felt his body being pulled into the unknown, a familiar sensation by now. Yet, this time, there was a deeper sense of dread.

When the light subsided, he found himself in a desolate landscape. The sky was painted in hues of red and black, and the air carried the stench of decay. Around him, his classmates began to scatter, each seeking their own path to survival.

Morpheus clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He remembered his friend who had perished in the first dream, the cries of despair echoing in his mind. "I will survive," he whispered to himself, stepping forward into the shadows.

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