The theatre's vastness seemed to amplify Asher's natural introversion as he claimed a spot in the back row, his dark clothing helping him blend into the shadows. The gathering crowd below resembled a colorful mosaic of anxious energy, their murmured conversations creating a soft buzz that filled the space.
Kira's entrance drew several eyes - her cobalt dress and jean jacket combination striking a perfect balance between casual and composed, her brunette hair falling freely around her shoulders. Her sneakers made little sound as she ascended the steps, having spotted Asher's familiar silhouette. Her smile carried the warmth of shared experience as she settled beside him. "Hi there," she offered, her voice carrying none of the tension that had marked their last real conversation in the warehouse.
Asher's acknowledging nod was automatic, his mind still wrestling with the vivid memory of the creature - its impossible hybrid form, the way it had moved, the terror that had felt too real to be simulated. Before he could voice his questions, Derek and Yuno appeared, completing their unlikely quartet.
Derek's greeting carried his characteristic charm - "Sup man and lady Kira, my greetings" - while Yuno maintained his meditative silence, his temple training evident in his composed demeanor.
The silence that followed felt charged with unspoken questions until Kira broke it, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, if you guys won't mind, can we like discuss the creature stuff after this whole thing?"
Derek's "Sure, why not" was cut short by the arrival of two figures - Rachael, whom Asher recognized, and a man who carried himself with the quiet authority of someone used to being listened to. They approached the podium with practiced grace.
Rachael's introduction was crisp and professional, her lab coat pristine under the theatre lights. "Hi everyone. Welcome to the S.I.A. I am sure all of you have questions. Well, the time for wonders has ended. Here with me is Mr. Stanley, a specialist in the Shackles understanding, or as you all know it, the syndrome. He is going to clear the air off your shoulders."
Mr. Stanley's survey of the assembled teens was methodical, almost clinical. His voice, when it came, filled the theatre with practiced ease. "I'm sure you all have heard of me from Rachael. Before we get into other things, I am Mr. Stanley, leader of the research and handling management. And I'm here today, just like every other year, to talk you all through the necessities."
The instruction about questions and writing materials sent a rustle through the crowd as everyone reached for their papers. Derek's pen was already moving, his political background evident in his note-taking efficiency. Asher's journalistic instincts warred with his growing unease as Stanley began his explanation of the S.I.A.
Stanley's voice took on a deeper, more professorial tone as he addressed the syndrome, his words measured and precise:
"The syndrome, or as we formally call it, 'The Shackles,' is humanity's most closely guarded secret. It's not a disease in the traditional sense, but rather a parasitic consciousness that attaches itself to the human mind." He gestured to a holographic display that materialized behind him, showing neural pathway diagrams.
"This consciousness manifests in what we call 'dream spaces' - pockets of reality where the infected person's fears, traumas, and darkest thoughts take physical form. These dream spaces aren't mere hallucinations; they're tangible alternate realities that can and do affect our world. When an infected person enters a dream space, their physical body remains in our reality, but their consciousness traverses into this other dimension."
The hologram shifted to show various grotesque creatures, causing several students to flinch. "The creatures you encountered in your trial? They were based on actual entities we've documented from dream spaces. These beings are manifestations of the infected person's psyche, twisted by the syndrome into forms that defy conventional biology. They're part animal, part nightmare, and entirely lethal."
Stanley's eyes swept across the audience, his expression grave. "But here's what makes the syndrome truly terrifying: it's contagious. Not through physical contact, but through what we call 'dream bleeding.' When an infected person's dream space becomes strong enough, it can pull in nearby uninfected individuals. Those people then either become infected themselves or, in the worst cases, die from what appears to be heart failure in our reality. But luckily it happens on rare occasions."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "This is where Dream Keepers come in. You see, certain individuals - like yourselves - possess a natural resistance to the syndrome. More than that, you have the ability to enter dream spaces consciously and combat these manifestations. Your 'interfaces,' as you've come to know them, are not technological devices but rather your mind's way of processing your innate abilities."
The hologram changed again, showing statistics and global maps. "Currently, there are approximately 50,000 known infected individuals worldwide. The number grows daily. Without Dream Keepers, each of these people would either die or spread the syndrome further. Your trial wasn't just a test - it was your first real encounter with a hybrid dream space, carefully controlled but very much real."
Stanley's voice became more intense. "The creatures you fought, the weapons you manifested, the abilities you discovered - all of these were genuine manifestations of your potential as Dream Keepers. The month you spent in that simulation was necessary to awaken these abilities safely. Had we thrown you into a real dream space without this preparation, none of you would have survived."
He straightened his jacket, his expression softening slightly. "You're not here by chance. Each of you was identified through careful observation and testing. Your various backgrounds - whether as a worker, a politician's son, a temple acolyte, or a street-smart survivor - these experiences have shaped your ability to face the impossible and adapt."
The hologram faded, leaving only Stanley's silhouette against the dimmed stage lights. "What you do with this knowledge, how you choose to use these abilities - that will determine not just your future, but the future of countless others. The syndrome is growing stronger, the dream spaces more frequent and more dangerous. We need you. Humanity needs you."
His words hung in the air like a physical presence, the theatre completely silent as the implications of his speech settled over the assembled teens.
The revelation about the institute's true nature - housing Dream keepers, the infected, and officials - landed like a heavy stone in still water, sending ripples of reaction through the audience. Asher's deep breath was almost painful as he tried to process the implications. Beside him, Kira's barely contained excitement provided a stark contrast to his own apprehension.