{The first chapter is a little bit longer. Chapter count may fluctuate according to scenes and interest. Enjoy.}

As the bus rumbled past the station, a poignant scene unfolded before the passengers' eyes. A distraught woman stood sobbing, her face contorted in anguish, while a somber-looking man stood beside her, his expression a mask of concern. The murmurs of the surrounding commuters were laced with a mix of empathy and skepticism.

"Not again," someone whispered, shaking their head. "They say it's just teenagers who are affected, but we all know the truth."

Rumors of a mysterious syndrome had been circulating, fueling speculation and paranoia. Some believed it was a government experiment gone awry, aimed at enhancing artificial intelligence. Others thought it was simply a modern-day epidemic.

Asher, lost in his own world, adjusted his headphones, attempting to tune out the commotion. The soothing voice of his favorite podcast host filled his ears, discussing the movie premiers. Yet, his gaze drifted toward the troubled duo, his curiosity piqued.

As he listened to the podcast's assertions, Asher's mind began to wander. Was there truth to the whispers? Was this syndrome merely a consequence of humanity's relentless pursuit of innovation?

His eyes lingered on the crying woman, her pain palpable. Asher's indifference began to wane, replaced by a growing sense of unease. The podcast's words now seemed hollow, as the harsh realities of the world outside his headphones came into focus.

The bus continued on its route, leaving the station and the mystery behind. Asher's thought lingered, His birthday is the next day, he is turning eighteen or how the world classifies it 'the cursed age'.

The bus pulled to its final stop, its headlights casting long shadows on the deserted street. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, the weight of tomorrow settling heavy on his shoulders.

A brief nod to the driver, and he vanished into the night, his footsteps echoing off the buildings. The bridge beckoned, its solitude a refuge from the turmoil brewing within. He leaned against the railing, the city lights twinkling like stars below.

"Is it worth it?" he wondered, his thoughts consumed by the unknown. "Becoming something I might not recognize? Losing myself to the darkness?" Yesterday's despair had given way to a spark of curiosity, fueled by the tournament's impending outcome.

Night stretched on, dawn nowhere in sight. Asher retreated to his room, seeking comfort in the familiar rhythms of his podcast. The soothing voice lulled him, but exhaustion won out. Sleep took hold, shrouding tomorrow's uncertainty.

As he drifted off, his mind whispered: "What will tomorrow bring?.

The sun shines above Asher Reeds slowly opening his eyes, groggily reaching over to silence the blaring alarm clock. His 18th birthday had finally arrived, and with it, the dreaded Syndrome that had haunted his dreams for years.

"Ugh, is it late?" he muttered to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had always wondered what this day would bring.

A sudden knock at the door broke the morning silence, making Asher's heart skip a beat. He slid into a crumpled shirt and shuffled towards the door, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Asher Reeds?" a deep voice called from the other side.

Asher hesitated for a moment before opening the door to reveal three suited figures and a woman with a kind face.

"Can I help you?" Asher asked, trying to sound calm.

"We're from the S.I.A.," one of the men replied, flashing a badge. "We're here to...collect you."

Asher's confusion deepened. "What do you mean? I haven't done anything wrong."

The agent's expression remained neutral, but his voice softened slightly. "You're 18 now, Asher. Either you've contracted the Syndrome, or...you're coming with us for examination."

Asher hesitated, unsure what to do. "I don't understand."

The agent's smile was faint, but reassuring. "You will soon, Asher. Please come with us."

The lights flickered and dimmed, and Asher felt a strange sensation wash over him. He heard whispers, engines roaring to life, and then everything went dark.

Asher's eyelids fluttered, struggling to open as a wave of pain washed over him. His mind foggy, he tried to recall how he ended up in this unfamiliar place. Memories of his solitary life, once filled with endless struggles, now seemed like a distant dream.

As his vision cleared, the room came into focus. The sleek, silver machines surrounding him hummed softly, casting an eerie glow. Medical personnel in crisp white coats moved with purpose, their faces hidden behind masks. The air was thick with antiseptic and an otherworldly silence.

Asher's instincts kicked in, and he strained against the restraints binding him to the chair. Panic set in, his heart racing as he realized he was trapped.

A soothing voice pierced the tension, echoing through the room. "I advise you to cease struggling, young man. Your efforts are futile. Exercise patience, and you'll be freed soon enough."

Asher's face twisted in anger, but he relaxed, taking a deep breath. The voice, though calm, held an underlying authority. "What did you people inject me with?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "Is it too much to ask for basic human decency? Strapping me down isn't humane."

The door swung open, admitting a middle-aged woman with piercing blonde hair, flanked by two imposing men. Her confident stride commanded attention, and the room fell silent.

"Where is the child?" she asked, her voice firm but laced with concern.

"Over there, Director," a voice replied, nodding toward Asher.

The woman's gaze locked onto Asher, her expression transforming from determination to alarm. "Why is he restrained, Adam? How dare you!" she exclaimed, striding toward him.

Asher watched, intrigued, as she confronted the unseen Adam. Her eyes flashed with authority, but her face softened as she turned to him.

"I apologize for the treatment," she said, her voice genuine. "You're free to go soon." She freed his arms with a remote, and Asher rubbed the circulation back into his wrists.

Gently guiding him to a nearby sofa, she asked, "Are you alright, Asher?" Her eyes searched his, filled with a mix of curiosity and compassion.

Asher settled into the plush sofa, his mind racing with questions. The director's sudden change in demeanor had caught him off guard. Who was this woman, and why did she seem so concerned about his well-being?

"Director...?" Asher began, his voice hesitant.

"Rachel Everett," she replied, her smile warm. "And you, Asher, are a guest of our facility."

"A guest?" Asher raised an eyebrow. "I didn't exactly feel welcome with those restraints."

Rachel's expression turned apologetic. "Security measures, I assure you. We've been monitoring your... unique situation."

"Unique situation?" Asher's curiosity piqued.

Rachel nodded. "You've been with us for three days. You were brought here because you weren't attacked by the syndrome

Asher's memories began to resurface  fragments of a life he thought he'd dreamt of. "What happened to me?"

Rachel leaned forward, her eyes locked onto his. " You were free from the syndrome and you know people who are immune are rare. So we brought you in to examine you for a month and If successfully you are free then its remarkable.

"You could change everything. The misery caused by the syndrome. I am sure you will make an excellent dream keeper.

Asher's eyes locked onto Rachel's, seeking answers. "You think I'd make an excellent Dream Keeper? Why?"

Rachel's smile was warm, reassuring. "Your resilience in the face of adversity is remarkable, Asher. The syndrome has ravaged countless lives, but I believe you have the potential to overcome it."

Asher's curiosity surged. "What is this syndrome? What are Dream Keepers? How do people get infected? And is there a cure?"

Rachel's expression turned sympathetic. "Stanley will address all your questions, but first, you must complete the final test."

Asher's skepticism flared. "Who is Stanley? Some fabricated figure to manipulate me?"

Rachel's eyes sparkled as she stood, walked to a nearby drawer, and retrieved a file. "Meet Stanley soon enough." She handed Asher the file.

"what's this?" Asher asked, hesitation etched on his face.

"Open it," Rachel replied, her gaze steady.

Asher's eyes widened as he scanned the contents. The brown document held his personal details: name, age, blood group, and more. Even the childhood accident that had left an indelible scar.

He turned to Rachel, stunned. "How did you...? This is my life."

Rachel's voice was gentle. "We've been watching you, Asher. We believe you're crucial to unraveling the syndrome's mysteries."

Asher's mind reeled, torn between trust and trepidation. This continued for minutes as he kept wondering what was happening and why.

" You will understand everything soon enough Asher Reeds".

Asher's mind reeled as Rachel's words lingered. "You could be amongst the Dream Keepers, Asher. I don't know how your life has been, but I'm sure you'll do great things for our future." Her smile faded as she stood and left, leaving Asher drowning in uncertainty.

He sat there, inhaling the crisp air, struggling to grasp the situation. "Can I trust these people?" he thought. Rumors of Dream Keepers had circulated on the construction site, but he never imagined he'd be face-to-face with them. The Academy in Orland was supposedly their haven.

His thoughts were interrupted as three unconscious figures were wheeled in, strapped to chairs identical to his earlier confinement. A female brunette, resembling a teen reporter he'd seen on TV, caught his attention. A male blonde with a chiseled build and a short, kindly-looking Asian man accompanied her.

"Are they also immune to the syndrome?" Asher asked an official.

The official nodded curtly. "Yes, just like you, Asher Reeds."

"Please step into the machine over there," the official instructed, gesturing toward a sleek, cylindrical device.

Asher's confusion deepened. "Why?"

"We need to keep you under observation for a month. Don't worry, Stanley will explain everything to you and the others afterward."

Asher's thoughts swirled, consumed by the unknown. What did the future hold? With trepidation, he stepped into the machine.

As the door sealed behind him, a soothing voice filled the chamber. "Initiating Neuro-Scan Protocol. Please remain calm."

A blinding light enveloped Asher, and his world dissolved into darkness.

Suddenly, visions flooded his mind – memories not his own. A city in ruins, people screaming, and an eerie, pulsating light.

"Asher, focus!" a voice shouted, echoing through his mind.

Asher's eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar room. The other three immigrants from earlier stood beside him, their eyes locked onto his.

"What...what just happened?" Asher stuttered.

The brunette's voice trembled. "I saw things...terrible things. What have they done to us?"

The blonde's face twisted in anger. "We need answers."

The Asian man's gentle voice cut through the tension. "We're in this together now."

As Asher turned to face him, the room lurched violently. Alarms blared, and the lights flickered.

A panicked voice shouted over the intercom, "Containment breach! Dream Keepers, evacuate immediately!"

Asher's heart sank. What had they unleashed?

And then, everything went black.

Occupant have successfully become a dream keeper.