Dawn broke over the city like spilled gold, but Ethan didn't notice.
His mind was already elsewhere—deeper.
He stood beside Lila in front of an old maintenance tunnel entrance near the outskirts of campus. It was hidden behind tangled ivy and a rusted security gate that had long since fallen off its hinges. The concrete was cracked and covered in strange markings—symbols that shimmered faintly in the morning light, too faint for ordinary eyes to notice.
Ethan could see them now.
The Rift had changed him.
"This place was once used to store generators for campus," Lila said as she stepped into the dark. "Now it's a crack in the world."
Ethan followed, heart pounding.
The further they walked, the colder the air grew. The scent of damp earth and rust hung thick. Their footsteps echoed off the tunnel walls, swallowed quickly by the silence ahead.
At the end of the tunnel, the air shifted.
There was no warning. No flash of light. No dramatic sound.
Just a quiet tearing.
And suddenly they were somewhere else.
> [Dreamrift Stable Entry Point: The Forgotten Steps]
Layer Access: Outer II
Environment Type: Constructive Loop Zone
A zone used by Dreamwalkers for training and memory forging. Creatures may still manifest under certain conditions.
Ethan took a step forward and stared in awe.
The tunnel opened onto a vast marble staircase suspended in a sky of shifting color. The steps floated above an endless void—lavender clouds swirled beneath them, while above, stars blinked in and out of existence like dying dreams.
The steps themselves were cracked and ancient, overgrown with spectral moss and flickering veins of soft blue light.
"It's beautiful," he whispered.
Lila stepped onto the first platform. "It's a prison. For memories. And the perfect place to train."
"How?"
"This layer listens to your thoughts," she said, gesturing around. "Focus on an emotion, a question, a fear—and it responds. Constructs will manifest. Not real ones—echoes. But still dangerous. Still capable of killing you in here."
Ethan raised a brow. "So… training through trauma?"
"You're catching on." She smirked. "Let's see what yours gives us."
---
They began with threadwork.
Ethan conjured his Thread of Will skill and practiced forming constructs—first spheres, then hooks, and finally shapes more complex. A cage. A shield. A spear. The threads wobbled, cracked, and dissolved several times. But with each attempt, he felt his mind adapting.
Cognitive Fabrication wasn't about imagining objects.
It was about imagining concepts—function, purpose, intention.
And making them obey.
Lila watched silently, occasionally correcting his posture or prompting him to think deeper.
"You can't just want a shield," she told him. "You have to understand what it protects, why it exists, and what it costs to hold."
Ethan exhaled, closing his eyes.
This time, he didn't picture metal or energy.
He pictured his sister.
His failure.
His guilt.
The thread took shape.
Not a wall—but a spiral barrier, constantly folding inward, threads moving like orbiting moons—protecting, adapting.
> [Skill Variation Created: Shield of Memory]
Type: Defensive Construct
Function: Reactive kinetic barrier formed by threads anchored to emotional charge. Strength increases with clarity of memory.
Rank: F++
Thread Capacity Used: 2/3
Lila whistled softly. "That's... advanced."
But before she could say more, the air changed.
A wind stirred, and the steps groaned beneath their feet.
Then the voice came.
Not a word. A tone.
Like a lullaby hummed through teeth.
Ethan went cold.
From the mist, a figure stepped onto the platform.
It wasn't Lucien.
It wasn't even human.
The creature was tall and skeletal, with skin stretched taut over a hunched frame. Its face was porcelain-white, eyes sealed shut with stitches. Its mouth was vertical—like a zipper splitting down its throat—and hands too long, tipped in bone-thin claws.
> [Rift Entity Detected: Dream Eater – Prototype]
Level: 5
A semi-intelligent creature formed by failed Dreamweaver echoes. Hunts guilt, consumes emotional memory.
Aggression Level: HIGH
Entity is aware of you.
Lila stepped in front of Ethan instantly. "This wasn't supposed to appear."
"It's real?"
She nodded grimly. "Something's interfering. This isn't a projection. It's alive."
The creature shrieked.
The staircase trembled.
"Run?" Ethan asked.
"No time."
Lila extended her hand—and a sigil flared to life on her palm, shaped like a fractured eye.
> [Skill Activated: Shardfire Glyph]
Creates volatile spectral fire from dream remnants. High disruption, low duration.
She hurled it.
The glyph slammed into the creature's chest and detonated in a flash of ghostlight. The Dream Eater staggered, flesh crackling—but didn't fall.
It surged forward, lashing out with impossible speed.
Lila dodged, but the second claw caught her shoulder—ripping through her jacket. Blood sprayed.
She fell back with a grunt. "It's fast—too fast for me solo."
Ethan moved without thinking.
He threw his threads forward, shaping them mid-flight—into a barbed net. It struck the creature's limbs and bit down. The barbs sank in deep, glowing with memory-fueled rage.
The Dream Eater shrieked again, trying to retreat—but the threads held.
"Now!" Ethan shouted.
Lila stood shakily, drew another sigil—this one complex, layered—and pressed it to the ground.
It exploded upward in a geyser of shattering crystal.
The Dream Eater was flung into the void—screeching, its body unraveling midair into drifting fragments of sorrow and shadow.
Silence returned.
Their breath came hard and ragged.
> [Shared Victory Achieved]
+1 Level Gained: Ethan Valen – Level 3
+Skill Point Earned: 1
System Note: Emotional proximity enhanced thread potential
Lila Serrin – Status: Wounded
Stabilizing. Recommend rest.
Ethan dropped to his knees beside her. "Let me see."
"It's shallow," she muttered, teeth gritted. "Just burns."
He pulled a small dream-fragment vial from his belt—a trick she had taught him for shallow syncs—and handed it to her. "Drink it. Might stabilize the projection."
She did. Her breathing eased.
"Okay," she said softly. "Okay, we're good."
"What the hell was that?" Ethan asked.
"A memory predator. They don't usually come up this shallow. Something's stirring deeper. Something old."
He clenched his jaw. "Lucien?"
"Maybe. Maybe worse."
---
Later, after they'd returned to the waking world, Ethan sat on the rooftop of his dorm building, watching the clouds drift overhead like half-remembered thoughts.
His fingers idly wove thread constructs—simpler this time. A bird. A mask. A spiral.
He could feel the system running in the background of his mind, now constant. A quiet hum.
Dream Energy: 35%
Cognitive Fabrication Level: 1
Skill Points: 1
Available Constructs:
– Thread of Will (3)
– Shield of Memory
– ?? (Locked)
A prompt flashed.
> [Skill Slot Open – 1 SP Available]
Would you like to construct a new ability?
Ethan hesitated.
He still remembered the feeling of those moments under pressure—his instincts had sharpened, ideas birthed from raw emotion. But building a skill from scratch?
He needed something versatile. Something that fit who he was.
Not brute strength. Not pure defense.
Control.
He pictured a hand. Guiding. Redirecting. Pulling thoughts from the Rift and twisting them to serve him.
A web.
A trap.
A command.
> [Initiate Skill Creation – Enter Intent Description]
He whispered:
"A grasp beyond the veil. A mental snare that latches onto unstable constructs and turns them against their maker."
The system pulsed.
> [Processing Concept...]
Skill Created: Thoughtbind Snare
Type: Mental Construct Interception
Function: Targets unstable entities or illusions and hijacks their cognitive loop. Redirects control for brief period (3 sec at base).
Cooldown: 60 seconds
SP Cost: 1
Rank: F+
Ethan smiled faintly.
A trap for things made of thought.
His kind of weapon.
---
As the sky darkened, his phone buzzed. A message from Lila.
> Lila:
You're improving too fast. That's good. And bad.
Rest tonight. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to meet someone.
Someone who knows Lucien.
> Ethan:
Friend or enemy?
> Lila:
Both.