Wan woke with a start, his entire body drenched in sweat, his sheets twisted around him. The room was shrouded in darkness, though he could faintly make out the first light of dawn filtering through his blinds. His heart was racing, his hands still trembling as he tried to shake the remnants of the nightmare from his mind.
Wake up, Wan, Sofia's words echoed softly, urging him to ground himself, to focus on the here and now. Be normal. Just for a little while.
But a loud knock rattled his door before he could fully catch his breath.
"Wan," his mother's voice came through, sharp with irritation. "Get up. We need to talk."
His stomach clenched. He pulled himself upright, pushing the damp sheets aside, just as the door swung open. His mother entered, her face tense, arms crossed tightly over her chest. His father appeared behind her, his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Do you want to explain why you skipped school yesterday?" his father asked, his voice low but edged with barely contained anger.
Wan's mouth went dry. Yesterday had blurred into the long, unending hours of the Architect's nightmare; he had barely registered the passing of time. When he'd finally come to, it had already been well into the afternoon, and he hadn't even had the energy to go through the motions of his day.
"I... I wasn't feeling well," he mumbled, unable to meet their eyes.
His mother's expression hardened. "Wan, don't lie. Your teacher called. She said you didn't show up for any of your classes yesterday, and this isn't the first time this has happened."
He swallowed, trying to muster some excuse, but the words stuck in his throat. How could he explain the hours he'd spent in that twisted nightmare realm? How could he tell them about the Architect and the endless darkness without sounding completely insane?
"You can't just skip school because you 'don't feel like going,'" his father continued, his voice rising. "This is serious, Wan. You're jeopardizing your future."
"I know," Wan said quietly, his hands clenching at his sides. He forced himself to look up, to meet their accusing stares. "I'm sorry."
His mother's expression softened slightly, but her frustration was still clear. "Then prove it. We expect you to get up, dress, and attend school like everyone else. Do you understand?"
Wan nodded, the guilt twisting in his chest. "Yes, I understand."
They lingered a moment as if waiting for him to offer something more, but when he remained silent, his mother sighed, shaking her head as she turned to leave. His father followed, muttering under his breath. "Enough of this nonsense," he said. "You're old enough to take responsibility."
The door closed with a soft click, and Wan was left alone in the silence of his room, his heart pounding in the aftermath of their confrontation. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to push down the weight of their disappointment.
But as much as he tried to refocus, his mind kept slipping back to the nightmare, to Sofia's calming presence beside him. Even now, her words lingered, a small, steady reminder that he wasn't as powerless as he felt. Be normal. He repeated the words like a mantra, using them to steady himself.
He pushed himself to his feet, the ache of exhaustion settling into his bones. His body felt heavy, like he was wading through molasses, but he forced himself into motion, grabbing the crumpled clothes he'd tossed aside the night before.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water onto his face, staring at his reflection as the chill helped clear his thoughts. He barely recognized the person staring back at him, with hollow eyes and a faint tremble in his hands that hadn't entirely gone away.
"Just act normal," he whispered to himself, hoping the words would sink in and would somehow help him get through the day.
The chill in the water faded, but he stayed there, gripping the edge of the sink, grounding himself in its solidity. Slowly, he felt the remnants of the nightmare begin to loosen their grip. He straightened, forcing himself to ignore the fatigue gnawing at his muscles, and finally made his way downstairs.
His mother was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of oatmeal on the stove. She glanced up as he entered, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Don't think this conversation is over," she said quietly, setting him a bowl of oatmeal on the counter. "I expect you to make up for yesterday and start taking things seriously."
Wan forced a nod, not trusting his voice to keep steady. He picked up the bowl, mechanically spooning the oatmeal into his mouth, barely tasting it. His parents were right—he couldn't just keep skipping school, couldn't keep letting the nightmares swallow up his life. He had to find a way to balance it all, even if it felt impossible.
The memory of Sofia's calm voice echoed in his mind, her presence still lingering as though she were beside him even now. He imagined her saying, Focus on what's real. Take one step at a time.
The tension in his chest eased slightly, and he took another bite, the bland taste of oatmeal oddly comforting. He could do this. He could make it through the day, just one step at a time.
"Are you ready?" his father's voice broke through his thoughts. He looked up, nodding quickly, trying to look as composed as possible.
"Yeah. I'm ready," he said, grabbing his backpack and heading toward the door. He knew he had a long day ahead, but for now, he had enough strength to start with the next step. One foot in front of the other.
The walk to school felt almost surreal, as if he were slipping between two worlds. He kept his gaze steady, focusing on each step, the faint sounds of birds chirping, the cool morning air filling his lungs. The memories of the nightmare and the Architect's mocking laughter lingered, but he pushed them aside, clinging to the calmness he'd managed to find with Sofia's help.
The school gates loomed ahead, and as he stepped through them, he felt the day's weight settle onto his shoulders. The hallways were crowded, students chattering and laughing, their voices blurring into a distant hum. He kept his head down, going through the throng, trying to blend in as best he could.
His first class had already started, and as he slipped into his seat, he could feel the stares of his classmates on him. He shifted uncomfortably, keeping his gaze focused on his notebook, his mind drifting back to Sofia's words: Hold onto what's real.
For the rest of the morning, he focused on the basics—taking notes, answering questions when called upon, forcing himself to participate even when his mind was miles away. It was exhausting, but he managed, clinging to the small piece of calm Sofia had given him.
But in the back of his mind, the Architect's presence lingered, a dark shadow waiting just beyond the edges of his consciousness. He knew the nightmare would return, that he would face it again as soon as night fell.
And yet, for the first time, he felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, with Sofia's help, he could find a way to survive it. Just one step, one day at a time.