Chapter 3: Stranger Things
Hugo dreamt of a vast wasteland.
It was an impossibly large expanse of desolation, filled with gigantic remains of countless unknown structures. They seemed to be made of a strange, smooth white marble that had stubbornly retained its shape despite being shattered and broken.
The very air was heavy with the dust of fallen civilizations.
The most noticeable thing, however, was the sky. It was a swirling, impossible canvas of green, blue, and red, a chaotic aurora that painted the heavens and The sun –if it can even be called that– was not a source of light and warmth, but instead a chilling void—a black hole that seemed to drink the vibrant Aurora from the world. The moon too was strange,it was a black geometric structure etched with countless glowing green shapes, frozen in place like a silent, malevolent observer.
The place was utterly devoid of life, a tomb on a planetary scale.
And then, the impossible happened.
The world spun… in the opposite direction.
Time itself began to rewind. The fallen structures shuddered, stone and marble defying gravity as they slowly, impossibly, began to rise again.
The "sun" and the strange moon chased each other backwards across the sky, a silent cycle of unraveling. And then In an instant that stretched for an eternity, hundreds, if not thousands, of years flew by in reverse. Corpses buried deep in the barren soil were exhumed, pulled back to the surface. The tall, graceful spires of white marble soared upwards, reconstructing themselves until they pierced the chaotic heavens.
In the middle of it all, a presence manifested—the thing that had caused the initial destruction. A sense of primordial dread, so vast and heavy it threatened to crush Hugo's soul, washed over him. But even that passed, swallowed by the relentless tide of reversing time.
Finally, the cosmic reel slowed, stopped, and then, with a silent shudder, resumed its usual, forward pace.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]
---
Hugo's eyes snapped open. His hands were bound in front of him by a large, white, cuff-like device, its surface inscribed with faint, glowing green circuits. The material was cool and unnervingly light. He found himself wearing a blank, featureless white shirt and pants—garments that felt strangely, anachronistically modern compared to the ancient history he associated with the Dream Realm.
Furthermore, he was one in a long line of hundreds, all shuffling forward in a grim, silent procession.
Looking around, Hugo suppressed a gasp.
The sky was now a solid, luminous green.
But the city was something else entirely, They walked through a city of breathtaking beauty and impossible advancement. Tall, beautiful white skyscrapers, sleek and organic in design, rose to pierce the heavens. Lush, vibrant plants with bioluminescent flowers littered the pristine streets, bathing the scene in a soft, ethereal glow.
More importantly, the place seemed… wrong and out of place for the dream realm.
'Too advanced!' Hugo thought, utterly baffled by the fact.
From his extensive research—a product of every free moment spent scouring the Awakened Network for information—First Nightmares were theorized to be recreations of the Dream Realm's ancient past. That ancient past, while wondrous and defying known laws of reality, was not supposed to possess technology that rivaled, let alone surpassed, the waking world. And yet it did, The sleek seamless tech integrated into the very architecture here was decades, if not centuries, ahead of anything on Earth.
Hugo couldn't help but feel profoundly lost.
'This must be what the first human to undergo a Nightmare felt like...' he mused, a cold knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.
Sighing, he forced himself to observe his fellow prisoners. The others who were "chained" the same way as him were nothing short of bizarre and unnerving menagerie. Some had purple or blue skin, others had too many limbs, and a few even sported multiple heads. It was a harrowing sight to say the least, although they were no infact, nightmare creatures...
'Well, I'll be damned, other races did actually exist in the Dream Realm... once'
There was still so much humanity did not know. Like Who created the nightmare Spell? And Why exactly Was it even created, or perhaps it was always there as fundamental hidden law of existence?
Who were the ancient beings of this realm, and what had they done in their lives? Who were the gods, and how did they die? Such questions remained maddening mysteries decades after the Spell's descent, a stark reminder of humanity's insignificance in the grand, cruel scheme of things.
'That aside...'
His analytical mind, trangely sharpened ever since entering the nightmare continued to catalog details. Which lead to him Him finally spotting figures who weren't chained—his jailors...
'Huh?!' If Hugo had any sense of non-confusion left, it was entirely gone now.
His jailors were a bunch of small creatures. Literally.
They stood about a foot tall, with grey, wrinkled skin and large, round, black eyes. They wore advanced, form-fitting green suits of armor and held compact plasma gun canons that looked both sophisticated and deadly despite their small size.
'What?! How does this make sense! How were all these powerful-looking beings captured by… by a bunch of foot-tall greys?' The disconnect between their unimpressive stature and their evident, absolute authority was jarring.
STOMP
A loud sound drew Hugo's attention. Near the front of the prisoners line, one individual stood out—a menacing, seven-foot-tall muscular creature with crimson skin and four powerful arms and strange four insect like yellow eyes.
The small grey creatures looked like ants next to him and From the aggressive set of his shoulders, he seemed ready to use that to his advantage.
"Hey!" the big red fellow shouted. Strangely, Hugo seemed to understand the language perfectly despite never hearing it before, the Spell seamlessly translating the guttural barks into comprehensible meaning. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Do you know who I am?! I'm Beelzebub the Mighty! I'm a Child of War! For the Six's sake! I should not be treated like this!"
One of the small grey creatures simply looked up at him, its large eyes utterly unamused. "Get back in the line, Prisoner 843," it said, its voice calm and devoid of any emotion.
Prisoner 843 seemed to vibrate with agitation at the cold treatment then He took a threatening step forward, muscles coiling to launch himself at his diminutive jailor.
Before he could complete the motion…
BAM!
A high-velocity crack, sharper and louder than any gunshot Hugo had ever heard, ripped through the air. The sound wave itself was physically painful, making Hugo's ears ring.
He looked up, his eyes widening in horror.
The big red guy was frozen in place, a look of vacant surprise on his face. A neat, smoldering hole was punched directly through the center of his forehead, revealing fried and blackened tissue within. The grey creature had shot him in the head, killing him instantly.
The massive body teetered for a moment before crashing to the ground with a solid, final thud. Almost immediately, small, floating drones descended From the white spires that proceeded to latche onto the corpse, and then silently carried it away.
The same grey creature looked over the line of prisoners with that same calm, terrifying gaze. "Continue moving, prisoners," it stated. Its words held no threat, no agitation. Which made it all the more terrifying.
There was only a chilling, absolute efficiency and professionalism, as if dealing with unruly livestock.
It was now clear to Hugo that his life here was worth less than nothing to these strange creatures, The other prisoners seemed to have reached the same conclusion, the line resuming its somber march without a single whisper of protest.
The procession eventually funneled into the base of one of the giant white spires. Frowning, Hugo kept his head down and continued walking, carefully avoiding the gaze of the grey jailors.
'Ah, right...' Shaking off his fear, he remembered the countless instructional videos and the old policeman's urgent advice.
Check your runes.
Focusing inward, on the core concept of his own being and the idea of "status," he willed the information to appear.
Suddenly, a cluster of glowing, shimmering runes materialized in his vision, visible only to him.
Name: Hugo
True Name:—
Rank:Aspirant.
Soul Core:Dormant.
Memories:—
Echoes:—
Attributes:[Mutant], [Mark of Divinity],
[Extraordinary Memory].
Aspect:[Unique Being].
Aspect Description:[Your blood, flesh, bones, mind, soul, spirit, and shadows are altered in strange ways.]
Making sure not to break his stride, Hugo read the runes, his mind racing.
'Just what is that supposed to mean?'
Blood, flesh, bone, mind, soul, spirit, and shadow… these were the fundamental components said to make up a living being. But He wasn't entirely sure what "spirit" entailed, although he knew the others held immense importance on the path of ascension.
'But why is mine altered?'
More importantly, what benefits did it grant him?
Usually, Aspects, even in their dormant state during the First Nightmare, presented a clear passive ability or a hint of an active one but This description was maddeningly vague.
With a silent sigh, he focused on his Attributes. While not as defining as an Aspect, they were crucial passive enhancements.
[Mutant] Attribute Description: [You are unique among your people, existing simultaneously as the best of your kind and also the most harrowing of your kind.]
[Mark of Divinity] Attribute Description: [You bear a faint scent of divinity, as though someone briefly touched by it once, a long time ago.]
[Extraordinary Memory] Attribute Description: [Out of the seven parts of your being, you have mastered the mind the most, granting you excellent memory.]
Hugo's frown deepened as he processed the information.
[Mutant] was almost as cryptic as his Aspect, though it hinted at a duality within him. Perhaps it granted minor physical augmentation or adaptability? He couldn't be sure yet.
'Well, whatever it is, it'll have to wait...' He didn't have the luxury of time. He needed to act soon if he wanted to survive.
The other two Attributes were clearer, at least.
[Mark of Divinity] seemed to grant a minor affinity for the divine. He knew from the Awakened Wiki that such Attributes were usually given to those with Aspects related to divination or, in the incredibly rare cases, to those somehow connected to a deity. He had a strange inkling he fell into the latter category.
And then Finally, there was [Extraordinary Memory].
'So I have a photographic memory? That would be useful.... Wait...'
The description was specific: [Out of the seven parts of your being, you have mastered the mind the most...]
'!'
A sudden, electrifying thought connected the dots between his Attribute and his Aspect.
'Yes, maybe that's it!'
His Aspect stated that seven parts of his being were altered and His Attribute told him that one of those seven parts—the mind—had been mastered, granting him its benefit. Which meant…
'My Aspect grants me certain Abilities or Attributes as I master the altered parts of my being!'
That said, all of this was a speculation, not confirmation, but it was a working theory. It was a fascinating, if daunting prospect. If it were true, it would mean he had six other Attributes to potentially unlock, which could be the key to surviving this Nightmare.
At least, that was what he desperately hoped for.
Suddenly, Hugo found himself at the very front of the line.
'Huh?!'
He had been so absorbed in his analysis he had completely neglected his immediate, perilous situation.
The same grey creature that had executed the four-armed being looked at him passively.
"Prisoner 777, step forward." It gestured toward another of its kind standing behind a strange, pulsating white machine.
Walking onto the indicated platform, Hugo gulped. A web of emerald light passed through his body, scanning him from head to toe. Though the process was harmless, it made his skin crawl.
The machine emitted a sharp, high-pitched beep. Hugo's heart hammered against his ribs as a chill ran down his spine.
'Shit, shit, shit!' He didn't know what it meant, but he really, really did not want to find out.
The grey creature finally showed a reaction, a subtle shift in its posture that might have been interest.
"Ah, finally. I was getting tired," it said in its same calm, monotone voice.
Then, it pressed a command on its wrist gauntlet and began to speak. "Galvanic Unit 73 reporting. We have located a special human sample."
Before Hugo could process the words 'special' and 'sample,' he felt a bizarre sensation of weightlessness as his body was lifted by an unseen force and then The world blurred, then faded, and for the second time, darkness consumed him.