He wanted to cry.
He wanted to scream and kick his feet, to cry out to his father and demand him to save him but he didn't. He wasn't above doing something so pathetic after all he had bullied others using fake legacy status as his weapon before, no, instead he was simply too scared to. He was afraid to ask. He was afraid to hear the answer he didn't want to hear. A part of him still desperately clung to the idea his father would magically save him from his fate by joining him in his nightmare or some other crazy theories.
Gwin's odds were actually better than most. Despite not being an actual legacy he still received ample training from his father on how to fight with daggers and javelins as well as how to survive in the dream world. Gwin had better chances than most ordinary kids but he was nothing compared to the legacies who were literally born to kill.
'If only i had been born a legacy'
He cursed his luck as one of the clamps tightened on his leg aiming to keep whatever horror he turned into trapped for at least a moment. His eyes fluttered shut as he struggled to keep them open.
He would have succumbed already if not for the manic fear that had been keeping him lucid the past few minutes. He could feel the lull of sleep becoming harder and harder to resist though which filled him with even more fear.
His cool facade began cracking as he turned to his father.
"Any last second tips?"
His confidence sounded a bit too forced.
"Trust nothing. Not even the dirt on the ground"
His fathers voice carried an air of experience that sent a chill down Gwin's spine as he imagined the earth itself, or more accurately the dream realm opening up to swallow him.
'I wish I didn't ask'
The awakened finished locking the other two clamps on his right arm and leg. His left arm didn't need to be clamped down because his prosthesis would not transform into a nightmare creature on death.
He had lost his left arm during a gate outbreak as a young child. If not for his family's support he would have given up on living in this world a long time ago. He could still remember the frenzy in the eyes of the abomination as it tore his arm from his body in a sickening squelch.
'At least the monster will be disabled just like I am…..I hope'
He tried to look for the positives in the situations barely holding in the panic. He looked at the thick glass window into the viewing room where his mother stood one hand on the glass. His two sisters were buried in her shoulders letting out a torrent of tears into her nice dress.
His older sister Verene had already passed the window for becoming a victim of the nightmare spell so she was safe. In fact Gwyn was only a few months from being safe too.
'Damn it all!'
He cursed his luck once again. His younger sister Yura was still susceptible to becoming infected but Gwin wouldn't have the chance to worry about her anymore.
Verene had dropped all of her grudges and had treated him better than she ever had before besides the one time where he was deathly ill for a time. It would have been enjoyable if not for his looming death.
Yura peeled away from his mothers now damp shoulder and opened her mouth as if to say something. The words died in her throat and her wet eyes began shedding even more tears.
She dove back into their mothers shoulder and began sobbing. Gwin grimaced at the snot running down her nose. Strangely he felt a little guilty.
His eyes felt impossible to keep open and his head began bobbing up and down. It seemed not even his overwhelming and manic fear could keep him awake when put against the divine judgment of the spell.
His mask dropped in his final moments of lucidity, his face becoming a twisted display of dread and anguish. He bore his sharp teeth and heavy tears rolled from his eyes.
"I'm…..scared"
His voice came out barely above a whisper. He was not awake to see the pained and grim expressions of his father and the awakened. He wondered in his head which was assigned to kill him should he die.