Morning painted the dream world with soft hues of gold, gently awakening Alex from his slumber. As he slowly opened his eyes, he found himself nestled in a luxurious canopy bed adorned with satin sheets, a surreal ambiance enveloping the room. The air was infused with a delicate fragrance, reminiscent of blooming jasmine and fresh dewdrops.
A gentle breeze wafted through the window, causing the translucent curtains to dance and sway. The room seemed to come alive, as if it possessed a sentient presence of its own. Alex's gaze fell upon the small bird that had perched delicately on his face, its feathers shimmering in the golden light.
Startled by the unexpected visitor, Alex jolted upright, his heart racing. The bird took flight, its wings gracefully slicing through the air as it disappeared into the expanse of the dream world. Alex's eyes darted around, gradually recognizing his surroundings and realizing that he was still within the ethereal realm of dreams.
A mix of wonder and confusion washed over him, like a tide of emotions ebbing and flowing. He marveled at the dream world's ethereal beauty, its landscapes shifting and morphing with his thoughts. Yet, a frown etched itself onto his face, as he recollected the events of the previous night. He looked down at his hand, which still tightly grasped Athena's, and a wave of guilt crashed upon him.
"...What have I done?" he muttered, his voice laced with remorse. The weight of his actions bore down on him, casting shadows upon the dream's idyllic scenery. Memories of his actions, of caressing Athena's cheeks and succumbing to temptation as he explored the soft contours of her lips, resurfaced in his mind. The guilt gnawed at his conscience, a piercing reminder of his betrayal.
He desperately sought solace, seeking to justify his actions within the confines of this ephemeral world. "...It's not real. It's just a dream," he whispered, his voice trembling. His eyes searched for reassurance, as if expecting the dream world itself to provide absolution. "I didn't do anything wrong...right? It's not like I'm doing this in the real world. Athena will never know what transpired within the confines of my dream."
But deep down, doubts lingered, casting shadows upon his fragile attempt at self-justification. He felt torn, as conflicting emotions warred within him, like turbulent tides clashing against opposing currents. The dream world, once a sanctuary, now seemed tinged with the hues of remorse and regret.
Shaking his head, he willed himself to push those thoughts aside, to embrace the respite that the dream world offered. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a new thought, and Athena vanished from the bed, replaced by the image of Arnold standing before him.
A surge of rage coursed through his veins as he locked eyes with his nemesis. It was as if the dream world mirrored the intensity of his emotions, as storm clouds gathered overhead and thunder rumbled ominously. Clenching his fists, he advanced toward Arnold, his steps echoing with determination.
"...You!" Alex seethed, his voice dripping with disdain. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip, ready to unleash his fury upon Arnold. The dream world responded, providing an array of weapons at his disposal. With each strike, the atmosphere crackled with electric energy, intensifying the impact of his blows.
He swung a shoe, the force of the blow echoing through the room as it connected with Arnold's jaw. The dream world yielded a bat, its weight empowering Alex as he swung it with unwavering resolve. The leather belt cracked against Arnold's back with a resounding snap, leaving an indelible mark. Alex's fury knew no bounds as he picked up a nearby chair, its legs scraping against the floor, and brought it crashing down upon Arnold, shattering the dream world's illusion of serenity.
Each strike was a release, a cathartic expression of his pent-up frustration and resentment. The dream world quivered in response to the violence, its once peaceful backdrop now distorted by the tempestuous storm brewing within Alex's heart.
Time seemed to stretch, the moments blurring together as Alex relentlessly unleashed his anger upon the shattered visage of Arnold. Blow after blow, the sound of impact reverberated through the room like a haunting symphony of retribution.
Only when Arnold's features were no longer recognizable, marred by blood and brokenness, did a sense of twisted satisfaction settle over Alex. Breathing heavily, his knuckles bruised and battered, he wiped the sweat from his brow, a mix of triumph and exhaustion coursing through his veins.
"Haah... I feel better now," Alex exhaled, his voice tinged with a sinister satisfaction. The remnants of his anger lingered, yet a newfound confidence began to emerge. "Just you wait, Arnold. I will surpass you, even if it means studying more than your tireless dedication of 265 days. I'll show you what I'm capable of."
As the echoes of his words faded into the dream world's ephemeral expanse, Alex turned his attention to the peculiar dynamics of this realm. The concept of time was distorted here, a whimsical dance that played by its own rules. In this dream world, weariness held no power over him. He could work tirelessly, his energy unwavering, as if fueled by an otherworldly force.
Thoughts whirled in his mind, calculations and strategies intertwining like delicate threads. With a week until the next mock exam, he realized he possessed a treasure trove of time. In this realm, where a single day equated to what felt like an eternity, he could dedicate himself to studying, unhindered by the constraints of the physical world.
Yet, a flicker of caution tempered his exuberance. The memory of a previous nightmare, a descent into darkness that spanned ten agonizing days, haunted his thoughts. He shuddered at the recollection of that harrowing experience, the suffocating grip of fear and despair that had threatened to consume him.
"...I must proceed carefully," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper amid the dreamscape. He was acutely aware of the delicate balance between ambition and recklessness. Losing control within this realm held dire consequences, a nightmare from which there was no escape. "Starting from the basics is essential. I need to solidify my understanding, even if it takes time."
Deep in contemplation, Alex felt a sudden twinge in his left eye, a sharp pain that seared through his consciousness. His vision blurred, causing him to wince as he instinctively reached for his eye. But to his bewilderment, the pain persisted, refusing to dissipate within the confines of this dream world.
"Ugh... Why? It's not supposed to hurt in dreams," he muttered, frustration mingling with confusion. As he focused on his eye, he noticed a small white dot, a persistent presence at the periphery of his vision. It reminded him of a pending notification, an unopened message clamoring for attention.
Curiosity piqued, he reached out, attempting to interact with the enigmatic icon. In an instant, the dot transformed into a square box, hovering before him like a portal to unknown realms. Before he could decipher its meaning, the dream shattered abruptly, and Alex found himself abruptly awake, drenched in a cold sweat. The transition from the dream world to reality was jarring, disorienting him for a moment. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of the strange occurrence.
"What was that?" Alex questioned himself, his voice trembling with a mixture of bewilderment and apprehension. His gaze darted around the room, but the notification bar he had seen in his dream remained absent from his waking world.
"What in the world was that notification bar?" he wondered aloud, his mind grasping for answers. But as he pondered, a resounding voice echoed in his head, drowning out his thoughts.
[Ding!Congratulations,host.]
The voice reverberated within him, its timbre commanding his attention. It was as if a presence beyond his understanding had spoken directly to his consciousness. A shiver traveled down his spine, tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease.
"What...what is this?" Alex whispered, his voice barely audible. His mind raced, searching for explanations and rationalizations, but there were none to be found. The voice, the notification bar—it was all beyond his comprehension.
Questions swirled in his mind, forming an intricate web of uncertainty. Who or what was the voice? What did it mean by congratulating him? And most importantly, why was it intruding upon his reality?