The waking world was a strange place.
For those accustomed to the dream realm—those who knew the absurd future before it came to pass—reality often felt... alien. Watching the unknowing smiles of ordinary humans, so blissfully unaware of the storm looming ahead, was like standing at the edge of a cliff and watching children play near its brink.
One day, they wandered the streets with carefree joy. The next, they were ensnared in an outbreak—devoured by the corruption they never even saw coming.
Yet Morgan remained unfazed.
She sat in the backseat of a luxurious PTV, her posture relaxed, expression unreadable. Around her, four companions sat in silence.
All five stared out the tinted windows, watching the peaceful world roll by.
Until the silence broke.
"Lady Morgan," Elle asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, "may I ask why I'm here?"
Three more sets of eyes turned toward Morgan. The question lingered in the air, unspoken on their lips but present all the same.
"I'm just a Master from a no-name clan," Elle continued hesitantly. "Should I really be accompanying someone like—"
"Such lovely weather," Morgan interrupted, resting her head against the cool glass of the window. Her voice was distant, almost wistful. "It's a sight worth admiring. Would you truly waste it on idle chatter?"
The silence returned instantly.
Morgan's words weren't a refusal—they were a decree. And her usual companions understood what that meant. When she didn't wish to speak, no one dared press further.
But Elle... Elle hadn't learned that yet.
"I'm not sure if I—"
A sharp nudge from the man beside her cut her off. Elle let out a small grunt, turning toward him, irritation flaring in her eyes.
Before she could say anything, the weather changed.
A sudden darkness blanketed the skies. Thick clouds gathered overhead, smothering the golden sun, turning its warm light into a blood-tinged hue. The cheerful day dimmed into something far more somber. Rain fell in slow, heavy drops, like tears from a grieving sky.
The world seemed to mourn.
The wind moaned as though in pain. Flowers lining the roadside drooped. Trees bent as if bowing before an unseen funeral procession.
It was eerie. Beautiful, even.
Perhaps the heavens weren't crying. Perhaps the earth wasn't weeping. Maybe it was simply human nature to project sorrow onto the rain. And yet... it could just as easily be a celebration—the welcoming of something precious.
Or the end of something dreadful.
Morgan took a slow breath and let it out in a sigh.
"There goes the nice weather."
She finally turned to her companions.
"How long until we arrive?"
The man in the black coat glanced at his watch.
"Five hours, ma'am."
Five hours.
Enough time for a long nap. Or to run through her entire training regimen—one she'd already missed thanks to this last-minute obligation.
'This is no good,' she thought.
Why was she here again?
Ah, yes.
To chase something as flimsy and improbable as a new wish.
Morgan brought a hand to her forehead and lightly clapped it, frustrated.
What had she been thinking? Letting such a foolish idea take root?
Her gaze drifted to Elle, who was still watching her nervously. Their eyes met. Morgan sighed.
"Let's go back," she began. "I don't really—"
A sharp, buzzing sound interrupted her. She snapped her wrist up, summoning her communicator with a flick. A glowing screen lit up with red text, and she tapped it without hesitation.
ATTENTION ALL AWAKENED
IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED
Gate Classification: Category 2 (92% probability), Category 3 (7% probability), UNKNOWN (undefined).
Estimated Strike Force Arrival: 19 minutes, 54 seconds.
Morgan narrowed her eyes.
A Category 2 Gate? Here? That close?
She looked out the window and immediately gave an order. "Stop the vehicle."
The PTV screeched to a halt.
"We'll handle it," she said without hesitation.
The government response wouldn't make it in time. As an Awakened, it was her responsibility to suppress the Gate.
Not that responsibility ever moved her. No. Guilt for missing training was the stronger motivator.
Finally, she thought. I can fight without falling behind on my regimen.
And the publicity wouldn't hurt either. A solo suppression of a nightmare Gate by the Princess of Valor would ripple through the clans. Perhaps even draw the attention of the one she still sought.
The doors of the PTV opened with a hiss. All five Awakened stepped out, forming a loose formation around Morgan.
The nightmare creatures would come. And they would be crushed.
"My lady, are you sure—"
Morgan raised a single finger to her lips. That was all it took. No more questions were asked.
"I'll handle the fighting," she said, calm and clear. "The rest of you—handle the stragglers. If anything slips past me, clean it up."
The four of them nodded without hesitation and dashed toward the Gate's emergence point.
As expected, the area was deserted—for now.
The evacuation was underway, but it wouldn't be fast enough. Panic would spread like wildfire, and in moments, this quiet stretch would become a blood-soaked memory.
Or it would have... had Morgan not been here.
A ripple of unease passed through the air. The wind howled louder, the leaves rustled like whispers of warning, and the once-dim sunlight all but vanished beneath a curtain of torrential rain. Morgan tilted her head to the sky, and a small smile touched her lips.
The raindrops didn't touch her for long.
Each one split and scattered from touching her skin, as if struck down by an invisible barrier. She looked like a living fountain, refracting light in every direction—wrapped in a shimmering halo of refracted color.
A rainbow.
It wrapped around her like a sash of painted light. She hadn't seen one in... gods knew how long. It was beautiful. Almost divine.
And yet—
'I don't want your sympathy.'
The sky's blessing meant nothing to her. Not anymore.
What she did want... she still didn't know. That was why she'd agreed to attend that foolish celebration. Why she stood here now, in the eye of an approaching storm.
'What do I wish for...?'
Would she find it today?
Something that would make her stronger? A desire fierce enough to surpass her lifelong ambition?
The air twisted, recoiled. Space itself groaned, then tore. A jagged rift split the world open in front of them, widening with a low, dreadful hum. From within, the scent of rot and madness flooded the street.
The Gate had arrived. A Category 2. Nothing she couldn't handle.
Morgan summoned her sword with a flick of her wrist, the blade materializing in a burst of pale sparks. She motioned for the others to stand back.
This would be hers alone.
A fitting way to make up for the lost time—and lost purpose.
The first creature emerged.
A chitinous pincer scraped against the fractured air, followed by a grotesque head and a malformed body. The thing looked like a malformed hybrid of crab and man—pincers twitching erratically, too many legs clicking against the ground.
Its eyes spun with madness, its scythe-like legs carved into the earth as it charged, shrieking.
CREEAAAK.
Morgan didn't move. Not until it was close enough to smell the rot rolling off its body.
Then she struck.
One clean, precise arc of her sword—and the creature fell in two, its halves flopping to the ground with a wet thud. From its bisected chest, a gleaming soul shard rose, faintly pulsing.
Morgan plucked it from the air and casually tossed it over her shoulder.
"Ah—what!?" Elle yelped, stumbling forward just in time to catch it before it hit the ground. She fumbled it into her bag, eyes wide and confused.
Morgan chuckled lightly.
"Handle those carefully," she said, her tone unexpectedly playful as she turned toward the next nightmare creature spilling through the Gate. "They're not something you wish to lose."
...
The world was a blur.
A red, messy blur.
There was nothing to see, nothing to kill, nothing to cling to. Just a hollow, drifting existence. Pathetic. Pointless. Unwanted.
And yet, it endured.
Because even now, somewhere in the broken fragments of its soul, there still lived a wish. A dream that hadn't died.
"W-where am I?"
The shadow croaked, then took another step.
"Who is calling me?"
It turned, writhing, toward a distant corner of the dark. A blurry black sphere hovered there, its presence suffocating. Around it, monsters had gathered—crooked, foul things twisted by the nightmare. They waited in silence, leashed only by instinct.
The creatures had no wish. They followed the nightmare without a will of their own. Pathetic little gremlins.
The world would be better without them.
The shadow laughed. A loud, gurgling laugh.
Was it any different?
A creature with no name, no identity—only a bitter yearning that refused to die. But it had a wish. Something it didn't forego.
'...A wish.'
How noble. How foolish.
And yet, that single thread of longing gave it strength. Gave it purpose. Kept it fighting a war it had already lost.
It grimaced and clutched its chest.
Blood spilled from its mouth, thick and dark.
Its breaths came in ragged gasps.
"How much time do I have left?"
There was no answer.
There never was.
No one knew when the world would end. When the darkness would swallow it whole. Not the humans. Not the nightmare spawn. Not even the damned Monarchs... none would escape.
The apocalypse didn't discriminate.
The end of the world. The destruction of the dream. The plunge into reality. The reality of nothingness.
The shadow looked at the malformed crowd before the black sphere. Then it raised its gaze to the sky—to the great, gaping void above.
The Great Dark Crater.
It devoured the sky. Burned away the red, bled into the blue. The world above was gone. Only the bleeding labyrinth remained below.
The shadow leaned against a jagged coral jutting from the ground. The last bit of respite it would ever know.
A forgotten emotion stirred in its chest.
Pity.
Pity for the monsters. For the mindless things clawing for survival. Pity for the ignorant beings of the world beyond.
Creeeekk!
ShriekkK!
The creatures grew restless.
Maybe they sensed what was coming. Perhaps they wanted to get away, to escape what fate had in store for them.
'Foolish beings.'
The Shadow scoffed.
'What do you hope for, when it's the end of everything?'
There would be no sky left to dream under. No earth left to walk upon. No tomorrow, no dreams.
A sudden tremor shook. The shadow looked around and bit its lips.
The coral trembled. The world shuddered like a dying beast thrashing in its final agony.
Chunks of land tore free and rose into the Crater's endless mouth. The Great Dark Crater was expanding. The last chains holding back the void were fraying. Splintering.
'Is there really nothing I can do?'
It clenched its fists. That one desire... it still clung to it. That it refused to let go.
'My wish...'
Another tremor. The coral the shadow leaned on, trembled. It took a few steps away as the coral got uprooted, flew high, consumed by the Great Dark Crater.
Just like every single thing would soon be.
'This is the end.'
The shadow fell to its knees, blood dripping from its lips, one hand pressed tightly to its chest.
'If only it wasn't for her...'
The woman who ruined everything.
The woman it loathed most... and yet could never escape. The one it had no choice but to follow. Because it was just a shadow. Powerless. Faithless. Full of wrath and bitterness.
But also full of yearning. It still had a wish. A wish it would see through—no matter the cost.
'There has to be a way...'
A whisper called to it. Something wanted it to act. A familiar call. Something it had despised all its life. Now, it was the sweetest thing in the world.
The shadow trembled. Thoughts ran violently in its mind. It clutched its head and screamed—a raw, tortured sound that tore through the air.
'Should I let go?'
The thought was appealing, almost seductive.
'What's the use of fighting.'
The world was ending anyway.
'There will be another chance.'
In the world beyond.
'Leave the dying world.'
Enter the world of the living.
'Give up my soul.'
And embrace the darkness.
'But... will it grant me my wish?'
There was no time to think.
'It's now or nothing.'
And so, the shadow let go. Let go of its name, its voice, its soul, its pain. Its life. All that remained was a single, burning wish.
It turned toward the sphere. Toward the abominations waiting to pass through. And stepped forward.
And then, the gate opened.
The monsters surged into the breach, madness blazing in their eyes. The shadow followed—slowly, deliberately.
With each step, a part of it was lost. And something else took its place.
With each stride, something holding it back disappeared. A new piece emerged from darkness, guiding it ahead.
The Shadow was still a Shadow.
A mark appeared on its face—dark as the abyss. Blacker than night. It spread like rot, until the last trace of what its face had once been was gone.
And then, It laughed. A laugh that should never have existed. A sound that mocked gods and monsters alike.
"It's been such a long time."
It was madness. A writhing madness madder than the nightmare creatures.
The Shadow became a Shadow. But it no longer remained a Shadow.
It was ruin incarnate. A storm of death and madness wrapped in skin. A being that should not exist. Not here. Not anywhere.
And it stepped into the Gate, into the world beyond.
What lay ahead was still untouched. Still pristine. Peaceful. But peace... peace was madness, too.
"There is no such thing as peace," the thing muttered, drawing twin blades—one an azure, soul-deep saber, the other a jagged greatsword dripping void.
"All that lives... wishes. And all that wishes... dreams. And all dreams... are nightmares."
A wicked grin curled across its face.
"This world is the Weave of Madness."
And then it froze.
A pair of red eyes met its own. The woman raised her blade. Madness glinted in her gaze. And she charged.
'Good.'
'Very good.'
Black sparks crackled in the shadow's hands, its twin swords humming with death.
Steel clashed with steel.
"What is it that you wish?" the shadow asked, voice low and hungry.
The red-eyed woman faltered. Just for a moment. A breath.
"Tell me," the shadow whispered, "for your wish... will become your nightmare."
AN: aight here's the regular chapter. I am very happy with yall finishing the last quota. I won't be setting extra chapter quotas rn but do give this fic a review on WebNovel. Let's aim for 12 new reviews (30 total)
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