Ren's mind raced as he stared at Mira, her calm expression contrasting with the storm that swirled inside him. Kaelir. The name echoed in his head, pulling at memories that weren't his. The same name from the dreams, the same name he'd tried to forget.
"You're wrong," Ren said, stepping back, his hands trembling. "I'm not a god. I'm just—"
"—an ordinary high school student?" Mira interrupted, her voice steady. "You don't believe that, do you? Not after everything you've seen. Not after the dreams."
Ren clenched his fists, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be real. His dreams were just dreams—weren't they?
But Mira's gaze didn't waver. She stood there, unyielding, as if she had already seen the confusion and fear in his eyes a thousand times before. Slowly, she raised her hand, palm facing the sky, and a faint, silvery light began to shimmer in the air between them.
Ren's breath caught in his throat as the light formed into a delicate thread, like a strand of silver silk. It danced and twisted in the air, glimmering in the afternoon sun.
"This is a Dream Thread," Mira said softly. "It's part of the power I wield as a Dream Weaver. And it connects you, Ren. It connects you to Kaelir, and to the gods who have been forgotten by this world."
The thread pulsed with a faint, rhythmic glow, and Ren felt something stir inside him—a deep, primal force that had been sleeping for too long. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to tilt, as if reality itself was bending.
"I'm not asking you to understand everything now," Mira continued. "But you need to accept that you're more than what you think. Kaelir's power is already awakening inside you. It's only a matter of time before the others sense it too."
Ren took another step back, his head spinning. "Others?"
Mira lowered her hand, and the Dream Thread dissolved into the air. Her expression grew serious. "You're not the only one who remembers the gods. There are those who worship them, those who fear them, and those who would kill to claim their power. You've already been noticed, Ren. The moment Kaelir stirred inside you, the balance began to shift. There are beings out there—ancient, dangerous beings—who will come for you."
The wind seemed to grow colder, and a chill crept down Ren's spine. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was wrong, that this was all some kind of sick joke. But deep down, a part of him knew she was telling the truth. He had felt it—the weight of something far greater than himself, lurking just beneath the surface of his dreams. And now, it was bleeding into his waking life.
"What do you want from me?" Ren asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mira's eyes softened, and for a moment, she almost looked… sad. "I want to help you. Kaelir's power is unstable. If you don't learn to control it, it will consume you. And if that happens, the consequences could be catastrophic—for you and for everyone around you."
Ren swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a lead blanket. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. But the fear in Mira's eyes was real. And that terrified him more than anything.
"Why me?" Ren asked, his voice hoarse. "Why now?"
Mira hesitated, her gaze drifting to the horizon. "Because the gods are stirring. Something has changed. Something is coming. And whether you like it or not, Ren, you're at the center of it."
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Ren went through the motions—attending class, nodding when Yuto cracked a joke, answering teachers when they called on him. But his mind was elsewhere, replaying the conversation with Mira over and over.
By the time the final bell rang, Ren's nerves were frayed. He couldn't stop thinking about what Mira had said, about the gods, the power inside him, and the danger lurking in the shadows. But more than that, he couldn't stop thinking about the dreams.
Could they really be memories? Was Kaelir more than just a figment of his imagination?
Ren gathered his things and left the classroom in a daze, barely registering Yuto's voice calling after him. The hallway was crowded, but the faces around him blurred together. His footsteps echoed in his ears, each one a reminder of the distance he felt from the world he thought he knew.
He needed air. He needed to think.
Ren pushed open the school doors and stepped out into the cool evening air. The rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and shining under the fading light. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing in the scent of wet pavement, trying to ground himself in something real.
But then he felt it—a sharp, electric jolt that shot through his body like lightning. His vision blurred, and the world tilted again, just like it had on the rooftop. He stumbled, gripping the metal railing for support as a familiar sensation washed over him.
It was happening again. The dream.
The battlefield stretched before him, endless and desolate. Dark clouds churned in the sky, and the ground was littered with the remnants of a war that had long since ended. Kaelir's sword—the same massive, ancient blade he had wielded countless times—was heavy in his hand, its edge gleaming with a cold, blue light.
In the distance, the shadowy figures clashed once more, their forms blurred by the storm. But this time, something was different. The shadows were closer, their movements sharper, more defined. And this time, Kaelir wasn't just watching.
He was being hunted.
A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, and Ren—no, Kaelir—spun just in time to see a massive, dark figure rushing toward him. Its form was monstrous, twisted and deformed, with eyes that burned like embers. The air crackled with energy as it lunged, claws extended.
Kaelir's body moved on instinct. The sword came up, meeting the beast's strike with a deafening clash. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the ground, but Kaelir didn't flinch. He twisted, driving the blade deep into the creature's side, and with a roar, it dissolved into a swirling mass of black mist.
But the battle was far from over.
More figures emerged from the shadows—beasts, demons, gods. All of them drawn to the power that surged through Kaelir's veins. And as they closed in, Ren felt it again—that primal, overwhelming force rising inside him, threatening to consume him whole.
This was no dream.
This was his past.
Ren snapped back to reality with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was still standing on the steps outside the school, but his body was trembling, drenched in cold sweat. The weight of Kaelir's sword was gone, but the memory of the battle clung to him, as vivid and real as if he had just lived it.
And then he saw her—Mira, standing at the bottom of the steps, watching him with those same calm, knowing eyes.
"Now you understand," she said quietly. "This is only the beginning."