Long ago, in some pages of history, existed the tale of a woman— one whose voice the so-called God listened to. Her prayers reached and pierced through the heart of the so-called God, and through her, the first dream was born.
A child, pure and untouched by the world, took his first breath as the embodiment of dreams. As time passed, he learned to walk, to read, to speak— just like any other human. He grew into a child of enigmatic beauty.
No. He was not. He is just what they thought.
He was never a dream.
It was the first-ever nightmare.
Born from the union of the God [Devil] and a mortal woman, an existence that shattered the natural order. A taboo. A curse. A living contradiction that defied reality itself.
Its presence tainted the land. Wherever he walked, shadows clung to his heels. Wherever he lingered, people dreamt of horrors. And, when that dream [nightmare] took root— when it becomes real— it would devour them whole.
He came from the deepest abyss of the world, born from darkness.
His name— Umbra.
"Hey, Umbra. What the hell did you do for that monster to chase you?"
A hushed panicked voice echoed through the dark, narrow alleyway. The dim lamp lights above barely illuminated the two figures pressed against the cold stone walls.
"As if I know, Larche." Umbra muttered with exasperation. "That was Charles Vein— the young master of the Vein household."
The moment those words left Umbra's lips. Larche grabbed his arm in a vice grip.
"What are you doing?" Umbra hissed.
Larche's face twisted in disbelief. "What do you mean, 'What am I doing?'?! You pissed off someone in line for a Duke's title?" Larche's voice cracked with panic. "You do realize that's a death sentence, right?! Forget it. I'm turning you in! For my safety!"
Umbra horrifyingly stared at him. "Are you seriously about to betray your friend?" He said with pleading eyes. But it was all in vain. As Umbra saw his face, Larche was unmoved and conflicted. His face twisted into an expression of deep internal conflict—one that screamed, Forgive me, my friend. Your sacrifice will be remembered.
Umbra sighed, rubbing his temples. "Get a grip, Larche. I am Umbra. Do you think a noble title is enough to scare me?"
Larche, still caught in his own melodrama, grabbed both of Umbra's shoulders and shook him violently. "That's not the point! Of all the people… no, of all dukes you could piss off, why did it have to be the Vein household?!"
On top of Larche's cries and questions, Umbra tilted his head slightly and had a similar questionable look. To be precise, he also did not understand why he was chased by the young son of the Vein household.
The two of them stared at each other.
We're screwed.
They both silently agreed on that thought.
Then—
A shift in the air.
After some moment, Umbra's expression darkened. He felt something and turned towards a certain location, beyond the end of the alley.
Larche noticed the change immediately and asked. "What is it? A cursed human again? Second time today?"
"I certainly felt something… A glimpse of it. It hasn't fully manifested yet, but it's starting."
Umbra's instincts kicked in. He had to move. He had to stop it. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and was about to leap from the dark alley. Only to be pulled back by Larche.
"Wait. Are you stupid? We are hiding for a reason." Larche's voice was laced with exasperation, but it barely registered in Umbra's mind.
He had almost forgotten. The unexpected variable. The hot-headed noble who had unleashed chains of scorching energy earlier, Charles Vein, which resulted in them hiding the alleys. He is now the very person blocking his path, preventing him from safely traveling towards the location.
Larche's crossed his arms."Let's take into account that Charles Vein is a first-rate magician and he's actively hunting you. With his level, escaping unscathed won't be easy."
"I do not care about him. What I want to know is why did he even attack me in the first place?" Umbra scoffed.
The more he thought about it, the more irritated Umbra gets. He could hardly remember meeting him in the past nor could he have done something that would tarnish their household's name. He claimed himself to be careful— always calculated his actions.
So why?
Umbra's thoughts were cut short by a chilling realization.
"If the dreams were to find out about this cursed human, another person would be killed." Umbra muttered.
There was no time to waste. With that conclusion, Umbra stepped forward, walking out of the alley and into the open street. Larche watched him go but didn't try to stop him. He knew there was no point.
A split second later.
CRACK
A blinding streak of golden lightning tore through the air in front of Umbra, striking the cobblestone road with violent force. And then, a figure emerged.
A splitting image of the duke— navy blue hair and golden eyes. Dressed in a noble's coat embroidered with gold, standing tall as if his patience had run out, he appeared, Charles Vein.
"At last." Charles mused with a smirk in his lips. "You finally decided to show up. I was getting bored finding you from that rooftop." He continued as he pointed at a tall building far off from them.
"I have no interest in fighting you." Umbra's eyes narrowed. "Just tell me the order why you are chasing me and end this nonsense."
Charles let out a low chuckle, then raised a hand to cover his face as his laughter grew louder. It was the laughter of someone who had just confirmed their opponent was a fool. The reason why Charles Vein chased him was not an order to begin with.
"You want an order?" Charles lowered his hand, his eyes were calm yet gleamed with excitement. "Then, fight me at your full strength."
Huh?
Understanding clicked in Umbra's mind. This boy, who is most likely at the same age as him, is a lunatic that was not acting on some noble duty or grand order.
Charles was not here for justice. Rather, it was purely for his own enjoyment.
Charles wanted to fight.
"Isn't that selfishness?!"
The shout did not come from Umbra but from the one hiding in the alley, who just came out. Larche, watching the scene, could find it utterly absurd.The son of a prestigious Duke's household was throwing a tantrum because he wanted a fight? That was beyond unreasonable.
But, Charles barely spared Larche a glance. The criticism Larche made was futile. Charles never really cared about the words thrown towards him.
Charles' ego was beyond Larche could understand. His attention was solely on Umbra. His focus only on one thing, a battle with Umbra.
"This is ridiculous. I have important business. A nightmare is converging as we speak." Umbra muttered, full of concern.
"If it is that important…" Charles raised his hand, golden energy crackling at his fingertips. "Then, defeat me in one go and be on your way."
No more words. The next second, Umbra moved. Darkness rippled behind him as he charged forward. The distance between them closed in an instant, and before Charles could react— Slam!
Charles was on the ground.
Umbra stood over him with his silhouette looming in the dim light. His eyes pierce into the noble beneath him— not with anger, but with something colder— Disgust.
Yet, despite being forced down, Charles did not seem the least bit disturbed.
"This is more like it." Charles whispered while his grin widened. This was what Charles was looking for.
BOOM!
A sudden explosion erupted from where Charles lay. Smoke and debris scattered across the streets. Fortunately, Umbra leapt back just in time, avoiding the blast.
Through the thick fog of dust, a golden lightning flickered around a silhouette. A sharp crack of energy split the air, then the silhouette, which was Charles', was gone.
He was going after Umbra.
Lightning trailing behind him, golden energy wrapped around his fists as he plans to collide with Umbra, sending a violent shockwave through the streets. In retort, Umbra charged at him with darkness behind his back. The two individuals who were about to collide painted the night in flashes of gold and black.
Watching near the alley, Larche groaned.
"This is bad. If these two fight here, the whole street is going to be wiped out!" He grabbed his head in frustration. "Damn these first-rate magicians!."
Then, from the corner of his eye— a shadow.
A figure who is going in between these two monsters.
Huh? Who is that?
"Oh, killing him is a bit exaggerated, Vicente."
The Duke's voice was calm, almost amused, as he swirled the glass of wine in his hand. Vicente, standing stiffly before him, frowned. "But… I heard that your son is—"
"Yes, he is messed up in his head."
The Duke cut his words off with a chuckle. Even the duke realized what kind of son he had. Despite the countless rumors of his son's erratic behaviour— rumors that spoke of his obsession with fighting, his reckless thirst for blood, the Duke did not seem to be bothered.
Apparently, Vicente could see that the Duke was perfectly composed about this, with his small smile tugging his lips.
No. He was not just composed.
He was actually proud.
Vicente's eyes twitched with his inner thoughts shouting 'Is this family not normal?!'
"Enough about that topic of my son." The Duke said. "Tell me instead, why should this self-proclaimed 'Umbra' be spared?"
Vicente inhaled sharply. Seeing that the Duke's tone was so casual, so confident, made him uneasy. Still, he pressed on.
"Because he is the only person who can save humanity's nightmares."
The air in the room shifted. For the first time in their conversation, the Duke's expression faltered, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.
"The nightmare curse…?" Duke Vein mused.
Nightmare curse was something the world has been facing for centuries. A fate with only one end—death at the hands of the Dreamers. There was no cure. That was their only salvation.
And yet—
"Save humanity's nightmares."
Those words reshaped the conversation entirely. Duke Vein leaned forward. "What do you mean by 'save'?"
"If he exists, there will be no need to execute those humans afflicted with the curse."
A silence fell for a moment.
It was a rare sight, but for a moment, genuine surprise crossed the Duke's face.
The empire spent generations researching a solution against the nightmare curse— only to yield nothing. The only solution they had come up with had always been execution. Since, if kept alive, the after effects of the curse would surely create destruction.
Yet, Vicente casually spoke of an alternative.
Not just that, it was the man who called himself Umbra. A name recorded in history as the First Nightmare. The very being who is the embodiment of darkness held the power to make the nightmares disappear?
The Duke exhaled slowly, his gaze darkening. "This is classified information, isn't it? Not even other high officials know."
Vicente nodded. Though it was not entirely a secret, there are some individuals who do not know this information. But, this information was kept from the existence called dreamers.
The Duke leaned back in his chair. "I am a high official of the empire, Vicente. Do you really think I would stay silent after hearing something like this?"
For most, a Duke's authority was absolute. Even within the empire's main castle, there were officials who wouldn't dare go against them. A Duke was not just a noble—he was a force to be reckoned with, second only to the Emperor's closest aide.
But Vicente did not waver.
"I believe in you." he said firmly.
"And why is that?"
"Because grandfather trusts you."
The Duke's relaxed demeanor shattered, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. "You do remember." he said quietly. "That I once told you he was one of the people I hated most? A tension so thick it pressed against Vicente's lungs filled the room. But he stood his ground. He could feel the weight of the Duke's presence—the sheer authority that made him an untouchable figure in the empire.
"Also, you are a human. A consciousness of not wanting to see other humans get killed might be existing inside you." Vicente controls his composure and says these words towards the duke. Those words were genuine without a feeling of nervousness.
"You are a weird dreamer. I give up." The Duke exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Don't worry about it. I also understand why it should be kept as a secret."
Vicente was relieved by the Duke's approval.
The existence and ability of Umbra was something to be referred to as a secret. Duke knew if this got out, it creates a possibility that endangers someone.
The duke knew, together with the curse, the empire also had darkness behind them.
However—
"In the case of my son and that person, it is beyond my control."
Huh?
The Duke let out an amused sigh. "As you can see, it was not my order. My son simply took a liking to him."
"Took a liking? What do you mean?" Vicente stiffened hearing those uttered words.
The Duke's smile was all the answer he needed.
As the rumors say, Charles was insane. Someone beyond logical sense. Vicente could imagine Charles' intent. A battle-obsessed lunatic who followed nothing but his own whims.
Thinking too much about it, Vicente's stomach twisted.
"Excuse me!"
Vicente stood up in worry.
Without waiting for a response, Vicente shot up from his seat, barely managing a quick bow before turning on his heel and rushing out of the estate. The Duke nodded and merely chuckled at this boy's reactions.
As he sprinted, he could feel a little vibration of a vigorous magic in the distance. He was so sure whose magic this belongs to. The sheer tenacity that deserved to be called a lunatic. This presence was Charles'.
"That old geezer. I wonder what he's planning right now." The Duke talked to himself, leaning his back with an amused smirk.
As Vicente reached the battlefield, his breath hitched.
Before him, two figures rushed towards each other. The air crackled with golden lightning on one side and pulsed with eerie darkness on the other. A single clash, a magic collision that would surely reduce the surroundings to rubble.
"I can't believe them."
From their magic's pressure alone, they were monsters. The lunatic of the Vein household, Charles Vein, and the shadow who called himself Umbra.
Their powers surged toward each other, destruction inevitable—
Until they noticed him.
A figure stood between them, silver-haired, with piercing blue eyes that shimmered with countless colors beyond human comprehension.
Vicente.
A Dreamer.
The moment Charles and Umbra saw him, his voice rang clear.
"Stop."
If humans conjure magic, what sets Dreamers apart?
The answer is simple.
Dreamers are magic themselves. They have their very own system embedded on their body.
Vicente raised his arms, extending them in both directions. As soon as their bodies made contact with his hands, a brilliant flash erupted. Larche, who had been watching from the sidelines, was also caught in that brilliant light.
As the radiance faded, both Charles and Umbra had been pushed back meters away.
Unharmed, yet unmistakably forced apart.
For two first-rate magicians being repelled, this was an unexpected feat.
A tense silence followed.
Then, Vicente exhaled sharply.
"Can both of you stop fighting? The neighborhood would be destroyed because of your childish acts."
Umbra let out a small, exasperated sigh. In truth, this was an outcome he preferred—his real concern had always been the nightmare converging elsewhere.
But Charles…
His golden eyes still burned with battle lust, his blood still boiling with excitement. He wasn't satisfied.
At the very least, the collision stopped. Vicente could not help but sigh in relief and laughed.
I could vividly remember that day, it was as if fate had brought the three of us together.
It was that night that the protagonists of the story had met.
Me. who had seen it all and followed the protagonist's journey.
Charles. The lunatic, the reckless noble. Who would have thought that he would one day become the hero? That he would be the one to kill the person who would destroy the worldm
And finally, Umbra. The one destined to be the world's savior. The man meant to erase nightmares became the person who would bring about the end. In the end, he would meet his demise.
A story of dreams that twisted into nightmares. Yet, in the end, I realized that not all nightmares were that bad.