The days had passed slowly since his father's injuries had healed. His training had deepened, and with each lesson, the protagonist grew more adept at controlling his Sharingan and honing his genjutsu skills. But despite the progress, he felt a growing frustration. The limitations of his waking world kept him from advancing faster. He could practice in the field, yes, but his real limitations only became apparent in the quiet hours of night. There was only so much he could learn when awake, only so many hours to dedicate to mastering the complex illusions his father had shown him.
One evening, after an exhausting practice session, the young Uchiha lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting pale shadows across the room. His thoughts drifted to the Sharingan and the illusions he could weave. *What if there was more to the illusion than just what I can see with my eyes?*
As he lay there, his mind wandered back to his previous life, to a movie he had once watched, *Inception*. The concept of entering dreams, creating layers of reality, and controlling them—something about that idea sparked something inside him. He remembered how the dreamers in the movie manipulated their surroundings, bending the rules of reality as if they were in complete control. *What if I could do that?*
He had seen how the mind could shape the world around it. What if he could take that idea and apply it to his own abilities? *What if I could create a lucid dream?*
An idea began to form, and with it came a new sense of purpose. Lucid dreaming—he had heard of it in passing, and now it seemed like the perfect way to push beyond the limits of the waking world. It would allow him to train, refine his skills, and explore new techniques without the constraints of reality. But the trick was to make sure he never lost himself in the dream. He needed to know that it wasn't real, that he could wake up when he chose to.
He closed his eyes, focusing on his chakra. He pictured the dream world taking shape—a world crafted entirely by his will. He reached deep within himself, weaving his chakra carefully, channeling the power of his Sharingan into the illusion.
As his mind sank deeper into the dream, he felt the world around him change. The ceiling faded, and the room was replaced by a vast open field. The sky was clear and wide, the sun warm on his skin. He smiled to himself. This was it. He was dreaming. He was in control.
But there was something more. Something that the movie had taught him—the need for a reminder, something that would always tell him that this was a dream. He couldn't afford to forget. With a thought, he created a floating screen, glowing faintly in the corner of his vision. It read simply: *This is a dream.* The screen flickered for a moment before settling in place, reminding him that this world, no matter how real it felt, was just a construct of his mind.
Satisfied, he began his experiment. First, he conjured an object—an apple. He could feel its weight, its texture in his hand. It was real, as real as anything in the waking world. *This is working.* He smiled and tossed it into the air, watching it disappear with a snap of his fingers.
The dream world had become a place of unlimited possibilities. He could shape the environment as he wished, altering the terrain, summoning objects, and testing illusions with no consequences. He could train without tiring, practicing techniques over and over again until they were flawless.
His next experiment was more ambitious. He closed his eyes and pictured a dense forest, the sound of rustling leaves filling the air. The wind was cool against his skin. When he opened his eyes again, the forest stretched out before him, trees towering overhead. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth, and he could hear the birds calling in the distance. It was vivid, real in a way that ordinary dreams never were.
But he wasn't done. He needed a challenge, something to test his abilities. So, with a thought, he conjured an opponent—a shadowy figure standing in the distance. He focused, his Sharingan activating, and the figure began to move, shifting into a combat stance. It rushed toward him, and he readied himself.
The battle that followed felt real. He could feel the adrenaline, the urgency. Every move he made, every jutsu he cast, felt like it carried weight. He created illusions to disorient his opponent, distracting it with false attacks. But it wasn't enough to simply win; he had to learn. He pushed himself harder, testing new techniques and refining old ones.
As the figure faded and the dream began to dissolve, he realized that this world, this dream, was more than just a place to practice. It was a sanctuary—a space where he could safely refine his abilities without fear of failure.
The boy awoke in his bed, the remnants of the dream still lingering in his mind. He smiled, knowing that he had found a new way to train. The floating screen, the reminder that this was a dream, would ensure that he never lost himself in the illusion. It was a tool, a key to his growth.
From that day on, he would train in the dream, pushing his limits and refining his skills. The real world would have its challenges, but in the dream, he would be free to grow without boundaries.
---