"So, you're telling me there's an entire society of supernatural people?" Jacob asked.
"Yes" came his answer.
"And despite having existed for hundreds of years they've never been discovered by… What did you call normal people again?" Jacob casually questioned the sombre man sitting beside him, the one dressed in all black who only hours ago had arrived at his front door.
"The official name is dreamless." The man replied succinctly.
"Right, and you guys are part of 'The Order,' which is basically the government for super people?" Jacob further inquired with the same jovial attitude.
"No. We are members of The Agency. An independent body within The Order." The man clarified, keeping his professionalism intact despite his growing annoyance.
"And now I'm supposed to get some supernatural catch-up course at a university in England called dud or something?" Jacob kept asking, confirming things that had already been explained to him. His intention was purely to annoy the brooding man.
"The University of Dreamer Research and Development, UDRD for short." The man sighed before continuing "You will take a mandatory unit to transition from your original life as a dreamless to a dreamer before choosing your path within our society as an official citizen.
"Gotcha and what abou-" Jacob attempted to ask before being cut off.
"Answering your questions is not a part of my assignment. In fact my only instructions were to get you to UDRD alive, they said nothing about your tongue being intact when we arrive. With that in mind, please direct any questions to the back of the chair in front of you, your feet, or anyone other than me." The man snapped, putting on headphones and making it clear how little he wanted to do with his Jacob.
The source of the man's misery, Jacob himself, chuckled. He was satisfied at having annoyed the man to the point of being ignored entirely.
Suffice to say, when they had first met at Jacob's door this morning, they hadn't exactly gotten along well.
***
About 4 hours ago…
A middle-aged man and woman stood at Jacob's door. Staring down at the young man who was currently wearing his pyjamas.
"Jacob Bochord, we need you to come with us." Said the man dressed in black authoritatively.
Now the standard response to this would be to ask something along the lines of: "what do you mean, where do you want to take me, who are you, and why do you want to take me and not my neighbour Larry who, quite frankly, seems like a bit of dick?"
The obvious authority figures would then answer this before calmly escorting this theoretical person to a car and taking them away.
Another normal scenario would be the owner of the property shooing the authority figures away for one of several legitimate reasons.
That is the standard response.
When questioning the logic behind the following series of events, it is worth keeping in mind that Jacob has just experienced a series of life-or-death scenarios in which he was subjected to a massive upheaval of adrenaline along with stressful time constraints and straight-up bodily harm.
With that in mind.
Jacob's response was to slam the door and look for another way out of the apartment.
He turned on his heel. Looking around the small area he had just started calling home. It was still littered with unopened boxes from his move.
His eyes eventually landed on the window.
[3rd story window. Primarily constructed of glass. Wooden frame. Latched-based closing mechanism]
Jacob was slightly surprised to see the yellow text appear before him once again.
Not only that but the window he was looking at was outlined in the same striking yellow colour as the text.
'Ok, the third story, not the best but not the worst. Any chance I can get a mental image of the outside or an idea of something I can use to climb down?' Jacob asked the yellow text.
[Memory data obscure. Unable to restore accurate data. Query denied]
'Holy crap, it actually responded. Well, what about the fasted route out of here from a map based on my memories?' Jacob once again inquired.
[Memory data obscure. Unable to restore accurate data. Query denied]
Deciding that the yellow text wouldn't help much, he ran to the window.
Opening it wide, he was gauging whether he could jump to the balcony of the opposite building when he heard the woman in black's voice from his now open door.
At that moment, he realised he was so used to the mansion's supernatural enemies that he hadn't bothered to lock the door simply because in the mansion it hadn't mattered.
"Relax, kid. You're not in trouble. Look, I'm guessing you've had a rough night. We are here to help you and let you know that everything is going to be fine." The woman spoke assuredly, slowly approaching Jacob, her hands raised in a gesture of peace, not unlike a negotiator talking down a suicide jumper.
Jacob hesitated.
It was true that these people hadn't actually done anything bad to him.
Their only crime was knocking loudly on his door and speaking a little harshly.
Closing his window, Jacob turned around and walked slowly over to his bed.
He would have used a chair but all his furniture was still in boxes.
Even then it wasn't like he had a massive amount of stuff, he had planned to buy what he lacked once he was here.
Looking at the woman, he gave a mental command 'analyse'.
And to his surprise…
[Female. 159cm tall. 70kg. Clothing: Black. Hair: Black. Eye colour: Brown. Etc]
After a brief examination of the information, he focused on the Etc at the end of the list. Only to be greeted by a massive wall of text detailing every aspect of her visible body. There was so much that he was almost blinded by the sudden influx of yellow that now filled his vision.
The information itself seemed to cover everything from her three sizes to the exact curvature of her ears.
Since it seemed he needed to be a tad more specific he asked, 'Is she lying?'
[Not enough data. Query denied]
He sat there pondering where exactly this 'data' originated before realising that he should speak considering several seconds of awkward silence had already passed.
"Fine. So, who are you guys, and how do you know I've had a rough night?" Jacob asked, getting a better look at the two of them as he did.
The woman practically jumped at the opportunity to answer him before her colleague. Probably because he looked ready to tell him to show some respect or something along those lines.
A smart move on her part considering that Jacob's experience in the mansion hadn't left him with much patience.
"We are members of The Agency, but that won't mean much to you right now. So, let's start with the dream you just had. Although it probably felt more like a nightmare."
"It's what we call the nightmare trial. The fact that you woke up and can remember its contents means you are now a dreamer. A member of a supernatural community of people who can visit the realm they had their trial in."
"The Agency, aka my colleague and me, is a subdivision of The Order which acts as the enforces for the governing body of that supernatural community."
"For the most part, people who become dreamers are related to other dreamers. Although most dreamers are related via blood we tend to get a couple dozen people a year who pass the trial without relation and enter our community."
"Luckily, we can identify if someone passes a trial and send people to help them understand what's going on." The woman explained, clearly dumbing some things down and streamlining the contents so Jacob could understand easily.
"Lucky me" Jacob remarked dryly, causing the man to raise his and nearly his voice before the woman placed her hand in front of him, cutting him off.
"Now is the slightly harder-to-hear news."
"There is no going back."
"Now that you have passed the nightmare trial, you are a dreamer whether you like it or not, and your life as you know it has ended." She finished her sentence in a straightforward matter, not sugarcoating the news in the slightest.
Jacob spent some time looking down in silence, trying to digest the information as well as its authenticity.
If it had been him from a day ago, this might have disarmed him, maybe even caused him to freak out a little, but now.
Compared to everything he had just been through, this seemed almost… Quaint.
"So what now? do I get a pamphlet with a how-to guide on dreamers?" Asked Jacob sarcastically as he looked up from his seated position on the bed at the woman.
"Not exactly. Every new dreamer without knowledge of our rules, history, or even common sense is given free education in everything they might need dreamer-wise at the UDRD—the University of Dreamer Research and Development."
"Luckily for you, we can transfer you in and even get a cover story together for your father if you choose not to tell him." The woman explained.
"Wait, so I can tell Dad? I thought this was supposed to be a secretive society. Isn't it usually a case of not telling anyone, even close relatives?" Jacob questioned.
"Originally, that was the case, but more often than not, close relatives found out anyway. It usually just made life more difficult for everyone involved, so the policy changed to let the dreamer in question decide it." The woman explained.
"Fine, it doesn't matter since I don't want him to know anyway. Maybe once I know more about what the hell is going on, but until then, I'll take the cover story." Jacob said.
"Fine by us. There are two more things we need to go over.
First is your ability. You should have gotten one at the end of your trial. Could you not use it until you get to UDRD? We don't need you trying to spark a flame and accidentally setting a house on fire" the woman warned.
This gave Jacob a handy insight.
They knew he had an ability but didn't know what it was.
He had no idea if his ability was good or bad, but he was smart enough to know that shouting out the exact details of his ability with so little information wasn't a smart call.
"Second is packing. Your flight leaves in about 3 and a half hours, so you don't have long. I suggest keeping it to the essentials." The woman further advised.
"Wait, my flight? What do you mean by flight? Where is this University anyway?" Jacob asked.
"Oh, did I forget to mention? It's in England." She said, knowing full well she had left that out. Before turning and throwing one more sentence over her shoulder as she left.
"Welcome to your new life."