"Damn it…" Samael muttered through clenched teeth. "I think I just developed a hatred for snakes."
The attempt at humor was weak.
It didn't fool even himself.
Fear still pulsed heavily in his chest, thick and suffocating, as if the forest were right behind him—watching.
He reached for his back and groaned.
"Ow… my back…" he murmured. "It's burning…"
Every movement sent sharp spikes of pain through his body. The impact against the tree had been far worse than he had wanted to admit at the time.
Samael let out a short, bitter laugh.
"What a cursed realm…"
The Dream Realm.
Before, it had seemed magical. Spectacular. A stage for glory, growth, and grand destinies—at least when seen through screens, reports, and heroic stories.
In person?
There was nothing beautiful about it.
It was hostile.
Cruel.
Indifferent.
"Damn it…" he muttered, clenching his fist. "I lost. Way too easily."
That hurt more than the injury.
Much more.
Against Leon, he had always had an excuse ready. The differences between them were absurd—education, resources, training since childhood. Leon had been molded to win.
But now?
Not this time.
Yes, there had been a rank difference.
But Samael had seen countless stories of Awakened defeating enemies above their level. Stories like that were common—glorified, even.
Except he had forgotten something fundamental.
Those stories belonged to the elite.
The elite of the elite.
Ordinary Awakened didn't overcome higher ranks with ease.
They died.
"I…" Samael closed his eyes, breathing with difficulty. "I shouldn't have gotten so confident just because I defeated another student at the Academy…"
His stomach churned.
"I could've died just now…"
Reality finally sank in.
Cold.
Heavy.
He had made the worst possible mistake in that place.
Empty confidence.
Premature pride.
He had confused potential with real strength.
Talent with survival.
And an incredible ability… with invincibility.
Samael slowly opened his eyes and stared at the raging sea ahead.
The roar of the waves seemed to mock him.
In the Dream Realm, it didn't matter how special you were.
One single mistake was enough.
And death offered no second chances.
He took a deep breath, feeling his body tremble—not just from pain, but from something new.
Humility.
True fear.
And the brutal understanding that, if he wanted to survive…
He would have to change.
Now.
Unfortunately, no one changed overnight.
Change came slowly. In layers. Sometimes, by force.
The night still hung high in the sky, and Samael knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down. He needed to watch his surroundings, avoid being caught off guard, find somewhere at least minimally safe.
And, above all, tend to the injuries on his back.
Even after nearly dying.
Even after suffering the worst beating of his life.
He had learned a great deal from that experience.
First: he was weak.
Very weak.
Second: never fight without knowing the environment and your opponent.
"My Aspect requires preparation…" he murmured.
The realization sent his thoughts racing.
"But how do I integrate that into my style?" he wondered. "Pursuit? Observation?"
A grimace appeared on his face.
"Am I going to turn into a stalker of Nightmare Creatures now…?"
He sighed.
He would need to observe the forest before any fight. Understand patterns. Mark escape routes. Plan.
After all, this time, he had survived only because he managed to run.
Samael let out a tired, almost hysterical laugh.
"Ah… what a pain…"
He raised his gaze to the dark trees—twisted, silent, far too quiet.
"Good thing I've got the best possible environment to learn in…" he muttered. "Who wouldn't feel safe in a horror forest that can kill you at any moment?"
The forest did not answer.
But Samael had the strange sensation that it was listening.
He began walking along the beach, alert but unhurried.
Even injured.
Even with fear still echoing in his chest.
The beach at night… was still beautiful.
The moon hung enormous in the sky, bright and dominant, reflecting its silvery light over the dark sea. A cold breeze blew in from the ocean, carrying the salty scent of water and a strange freshness that contrasted sharply with the oppressive weight of the forest behind him.
Sand.
Forest.
Ocean.
Three distinct worlds colliding in a single place.
For a brief moment, Samael felt awed.
He had been to the beach countless times back on Earth. But this was different. This island had never been touched by humans. No buildings. No marks of civilization.
Its beauty was at its peak.
The sand held a soft golden hue. The sea—black and deep—challenged curiosity with mystery and menace. The forest, dense and alive, seemed to overflow with ancient, untamed flora.
And then…
Something was wrong.
Samael frowned.
"…Bones?"
He stopped abruptly.
Ahead of him, scattered across the beach, were bones.
Not small fragments.
They were massive.
Colossal.
Samael felt his blood run cold as he took a few cautious steps closer, finally understanding.
Now it made sense.
The serpent's fear.
It had been enormous—easily seven meters long. A terrifying creature, fast and overwhelming for someone like him.
But here…
Near those bones…
It was small.
Very small.
Whatever had left those remains behind easily exceeded ten meters in height. Maybe more. Much more.
Samael swallowed and approached carefully, extending a trembling hand to touch one of the bleached bones.
It was real.
Cold.
Heavy.
"This…" he murmured quietly. "This wasn't Awakened. No way in hell."
His eyes narrowed.
"At the very least, Fallen," he continued. "And even then, it died… and was left here like trash."
Silence answered him.
Only then did he realize he had been speaking too loudly.
"I've been way too talkative lately…" he muttered to himself.
For most Awakened, this would mean nothing. Bones from a creature of that level were useless unless they were at least Ascended rank—only then could they be carried, used, or transformed into conventional Memories.
But Samael…
Samael was different.
He stared at the bones again.
His eyes began to shine.
"But for me…" he murmured, feeling his heart race. "This is the greatest treasure of all."
Pure greed.
Raw.
Irrational.
Mixed with fear, pain, and anticipation.
In that moment, Samael understood something fundamental.
The Dream Realm didn't just want to kill him.
It also offered monstrous rewards to those who dared to survive.
And for the first time since arriving on the island…
Samael smiled—truly smiled.