"Hello."
When you're unconscious, you're not supposed to be aware of it. But I guess I'm the exception because I had a lucid dream—a dream of being trapped in a dark void of nothingness. And that wasn't even the worst part.
"Is anyone there?"
~Silence.
The thing about nothingness is that it's cold. Not in the way your ex-girlfriend gives you the cold shoulder, but in a literal, bone-chilling way. It makes you wonder if frostbite might be a relief, or if screaming at the top of your lungs could somehow break the oppressive silence that turns your own thoughts into a deafening roar.
For most people, this kind of isolation would be enough to break them. But we've been training for this since grade 8—some of us, since our First Awakening. When our consciousness was first ripped from our bodies and stored in an Abyssal core, we were still practically babies. So, yeah, I'm confident I can handle it.
[ Hello.]
That's what I thought—until I heard a reply. My heart seemed to stop for a moment. My lungs forgot to breathe. My back felt drenched in cold sweat—or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, I whipped my head left and right, searching for the source of the voice, but saw nothing.
The fear, already suffocating, only deepened as I heard.
[Hello there, little one.]
I said nothing as the voice spoke once again.
[No need to be shy.]
This wasn't supposed to happen. I was in my mind space, and the only things that should be here were me and it. No one else.
If that voice wasn't it's, then it had to be a dream-entity, trying to invade my mind—maybe to infiltrate the Federation or, worse, get close to Ma.
F#ck. F#ck, f#ck, f#ck. How much bad luck can one person have?
Universe, don't answer that question.
Who am I kidding? The Universe is answering right now. F#ck.
Wait. How could a dream-entity invade my mind during my awakening? The Federation has too many fail-safes to prevent this exact situation for all of them to fail without anyone noticing. Something's off. The only explanation is that it is messing with my head again.
Dammit, I almost fell for it.
[Oh, trust me, you didn't fall for anything. Because I'm not your little pet you try to keep at bay. I am you.]
Okay, now I'm really panicking. This definitely isn't it. It would never call itself my pet. Worse, this voice can read my thoughts, making it dangerously easy to pull information about the Federation from my head. Unless...
"Bettie bit a bitter butter to make a…"
As long as I focus on this, I won't think about the Federation. Or Ma.
…
As the Awakening ritual neared its end, several Warrior-players awoke, immediately going on rampages. Nothing the Manes couldn't handle, though, as they restrained them and checked on the remaining unconscious students who had yet to awaken.
"When do you think he will wake up?" one of the Manes asked as it inspected Mel.
"Wait... isn't he supposed to have woken up by now?" the other Mane questioned, squinting, its attempt at a frown failing to mask the growing concern.
"I don't know. This is my first time dealing with a Variant Warrior," the first Mane shrugged lazily, though the other was a stark contrast, internally panicking. "Should we inform the Lady?"
"We should, but remember the last time someone did that?" the sluggish Mane started, only to be cut off.
"Yes, I remember. Quite well," the other interjected sharply, clearly not wanting to relive the traumatic memory.
"So, what do we do?" the sluggish Mane asked, watching as the other continued to analyze Mel as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. After a long pause, it finally admitted, "I'm not sure... but one thing's certain: the Lady will not be pleased."
"True," the sluggish Mane agreed with a sigh.
Their apprehension was justified. Their Lady was infamously strict, especially when it came to her minions. Yet, despite this knowledge, the other Mane remained calm. The two had a knack for getting into trouble, and if worse came to worst, they could always claim the Awakening had left Mel braindead. That was the plan—until, without warning, Mel's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air, as if he hadn't breathed in years.
"HUH!"
He inhaled desperately, scrambling to get off the ground under the stunned gazes of the two Manes, who stood frozen like deer caught in headlights. They watched in disbelief as the boy miraculously "came back to life."
Mel stood up, calmly dusting himself off while the Manes remained paralyzed, still trying to process what had just happened. By the time they snapped out of it, Mel had already finished dusting himself, inspected his surroundings, and asked, "How long was I out?"
"About three hours, Lord," the sluggish Mane replied.
"Longer than I expected... maybe it's because..." Mel muttered, checking his status. To the Manes, it looked as though he were briefly dazed, but his murmuring made them uneasy. They knew what came next—the most difficult part of their job.
"Lord, I have some information to provide," the other Mane said, drawing Mel's attention. He nodded, giving permission to continue.
The Mane took a deep breath, releasing a decayed, fetid breath into the air, though Mel's expression didn't shift in response.
"I am sorry to inform you that your Awakened Avatar is a Warrior, ranked E," the Mane began, flinching slightly before continuing. "Also, Miss Han instructed me to tell you to wait until she finishes the ritual, after which she will brief the whole class on the final year's proceedings."
"Fine," Mel replied simply.
The Mane was shocked. Newly Awakened Abyssal Players were notorious for reacting violently to even minor inconveniences—especially Warriors, who often drew the short end of the stick, being far more feral and emotionally volatile compared to Lords. But Mel displayed none of that. He was completely calm.
The Mane briefly wondered if Mel had heard him correctly—or if he just didn't care about being a Warrior, a rank akin to cannon fodder in the Abyss. But he quickly dismissed those thoughts. After all, Mel was a Citizen. And what was "literal cannon fodder" compared to that?
"We must take our leave, Lord, as we have other students to attend to," the Manes said, bowing before scurrying off to check on the other unconscious Abyssal Players.
…
After the ritual concluded, nearly all the newly Awakened Abyssal Players regained full consciousness. Miss Han's eyes glowed a brilliant orange, and with a snap of her fingers, a podium erupted from beneath her feet.
The sudden appearance of the pedestal immediately captured the attention of her students. Standing tall, she addressed them, "Now that the first part of the ritual is complete, I want to congratulate you all on a successful Awakening."
A round of applause broke out from some of the conscious students, though not everyone shared the same enthusiasm. Miss Han continued, her voice steady and authoritative, "Even though some of you didn't achieve the rank or player type you expected, that doesn't mean you can't grow stronger. The same goes for those who received exceptional results. Especially you, Lord players. Just because you've gained a noble status doesn't mean you can't be surpassed by those of lesser ranks. I expect each of you to work hard in the days to come as you partake in the next phase of the Awakening Ritual."
She paused briefly, letting her words sink in before delivering the critical message. "As with previous years, all of you will be force-injected into your Abyssal Planes. This will allow you to adapt and get used to your new avatars and abilities while defending your plane from rogue abyssal creatures. Don't forget the years of training leading up to this point—because I will be watching."
*Silence.*
A heavy quiet settled over the group. It was clear that Miss Han's speech was directed primarily at those who hadn't received favourable ranks. The contrast between students was striking—some had eyes filled with disappointment and uncertainty, while others, particularly the higher-ranked, radiated confidence and barely paid attention. That was, until Miss Han added:
"And, of course, those who fail these proceedings of the Awakening Ritual will, as outlined in the Ancient Abyssal contract, have their consciousness returned to their original vassals."
Her blunt statement sent a ripple of unease through the crowd. "In simpler terms, many of you will not return as Players. But this doesn't mean you won't benefit from trying your best. Without competition, what's the point of striving for more? Expect rewards—Abyssal Cards and a significant amount of soul points will be awarded to those who score highest in the exam. The details will be uploaded to your status shortly."
At the mention of Abyssal Cards and soul points, a wave of excitement rippled through the students. These rewards were highly coveted—Abyssal Cards were sought after even by Demon Princes, let alone newly Awakened Players. And soul points? No Abyssal Player could afford to ignore their importance.
"So, I expect the very best from each of you," Miss Han concluded, her voice now tinged with a hint of encouragement. As dozens of Abyssal pods began to emerge from the ground.
"Because I know you're capable of it."
With that, every student began entering an Abyssal pod. One by one, they checked the time, connected their relapse cables, and let their consciousness descend into the Abyss. Every student except one.
"Miss Hun," Mel said, trying to keep his voice steady, though a crack of unease betrayed him.
"I need to talk about something." He had to tell someone, someone who could help - or at least warn his mother. He forced himself to speak louder, to sound more confident.
"Speak," Miss Hun responded, not bothering to look at him, her attention fixed on ensuring the others followed Abyssal Regulations. Maybe because she trusted Mel wouldn't waste her time, she allowed him to continue. "And make it quick. You need to get into your pod."
"Yes, ma'am." Mel swallowed, feeling the weight of the words. "I fear I've had an encounter with a dream-entity."
"Excuse me?" Miss Hun's eyes flicked to him, a hint of disbelief crossing her face. "A what?"
"A dream-entity, ma'am," Mel repeated, forcing his voice to stay calm, though his pulse quickened. "While I was unconscious, it came to me—tried to—"
"Mr. Marcus," Miss Hun cut him off, her gaze sharp now, fixed on him with narrowed eyes. "I do hope this isn't your way of stalling your Awakening. You're not avoiding it, are you?"
Mel's throat tightened. He couldn't say 'yes.' Not to her. Instead, he shook his head, knowing the truth but too scared to say it. Miss Hun's no-nonsense demeanor made any argument feel pointless.
"Then you understand why I'm telling you to get into your pod," she said, gesturing toward the last empty one.
Mel wanted to comply, to pretend she was right. But the words tumbled out anyway. "But, ma'am, I heard it."
"And I'm telling you, it's impossible." Her tone was clipped, final.
"But why?" he asked, desperate now.
"The First Awakening."
It hit him like a hammer to the chest. His hope, crushed. "So you're not going to help me?"
"Go to your Abyssal pod, Mr. Marcus."
…
Do you forgive me?🥺