Darkness swallowed everything.
Andy blinked. The sound of the coliseum, the sand, the weight of his blades—gone. Instead, he stood in an endless ocean of stars. The ground was translucent, glowing faintly like crystal glass. Above, constellations pulsed in rhythm, their light soft but unyielding.
His chest tightened. "What is this place…?"
The System's voice answered, cold and final:
> [Engagement Trial: Task 1 Initiated]
Reveal your vulnerability to your partner.
Andy's heart lurched. Vulnerability? No. Not her. Not Nia.
"Andy?"
He spun around. Nia was there, her silver hair flowing like liquid moonlight, her staff glowing faintly in her hand. She looked around in awe, eyes wide, her noble grace softened in this dreamlike space.
"This isn't real," she whispered. "The System… it's pulling us into something else."
His throat tightened. "Shared Dream."
The stars warped. Suddenly, reality cracked open. Memories bled into the starlight.
A young Andy appeared—mud on his face, knees bloodied, clutching broken wood like a sword. Children surrounded him, laughing, pointing.
"Commoner trash!"
"You'll never be a knight!"
"Stay in the mud where you belong!"
Andy's stomach twisted. He could still feel the bruises, the helpless anger. His fists clenched, nails biting his palms. He wanted to scream at the memory to vanish.
Nia's soft gasp cut through. "…Andy."
"Don't." His voice cracked. He turned his face away, shame burning hot. "Don't look. It's pathetic."
Her voice was steady, gentle. "It's not pathetic. It's you. And it matters."
His chest ached worse than any wound.
But then—the scene shifted again.
The marble halls of Everhart appeared, chandeliers glittering, nobles circling like vultures. At the center stood a young Nia in a flawless gown. Her hands gripped her skirts so tightly her knuckles whitened. She didn't cry. She didn't move. She just stood, empty-eyed, a doll on display.
"Your duty is to the House."
"You do not choose. You are chosen."
"A lady of Everhart blood does not soil herself with commoners."
Andy's heart froze. "…That's what they told you?"
Her lips trembled. "Every day. Since I was old enough to understand. I wasn't allowed to be me. I had to be perfect. I had to be… Everhart."
Her laugh was thin, brittle. "Sometimes, I wonder if Nia ever really existed, or if I was just pretending all along."
Andy stared—first at the image of his younger self, then at hers. His voice came rough, unfiltered. "…Guess we're both broken."
She blinked at him.
He forced a smile, bitter but honest. "I grew up being told I'd never be enough. You grew up being told you had to be too much. Maybe that's why we ended up here. Because neither of us fit. But maybe…" His voice dropped, eyes locking with hers. "…maybe we can be enough for each other."
The silence was heavy, fragile.
Nia's eyes glistened. She stepped closer, the starlight painting her face in silver and gold. Her hand lifted, trembling, brushing against his.
"…Andy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "All my life, I thought if I faltered even once, I'd be discarded. But when I'm with you… it doesn't feel so heavy anymore."
His breath caught. He laced his fingers with hers, squeezing tight. "You're not alone. Not while I'm here."
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She looked up at him, her lips parting, words unspoken trembling at the edge.
Andy leaned in, forehead almost touching hers, heart hammering louder than any battle drum. He wanted to say it, wanted to close the gap, to let everything he'd buried spill free.
The stars brightened around them, as if holding its breath.
And then—
> [Task 1 Complete: Vulnerability Shared]
Bond Progression: 76% → 78%
The dream dissolved in a flash of white.
Andy jolted awake, back in the guild chamber. His heart still raced, his body still tingled with warmth. Beside him, Nia stirred, her cheeks flushed crimson, her hand still entwined with his.
They froze, staring. Neither moved, neither spoke. The silence was deafening.
Andy coughed lightly, trying to sound casual. "S-so… uh… not the dream I expected."
Her eyes darted away, pink rising to her ears. "Idiot." But she didn't pull her hand back.
He laughed weakly, scratching his cheek. "Guess we really saw each other, huh?"
Her lips pressed together, embarrassed, but her fingers tightened around his. "…Just don't forget what you saw. Either of it."
Andy's throat went dry. He nodded. "Never."
The System had forced them to bare their wounds. But instead of breaking them, it had stitched something new—something dangerous, something irreplaceable.
Something that felt dangerously close to love.
---