Just like that, the days flew by.
Every morning, the same four people—me, Sunny, Nephis, and Cassie—sat at the same table. Slowly, we grew closer. Even Cassie and Nephis exchanged words sometimes. Sure, we still didn't know much about each other, and most of the time it was just me and Sunny talking.
Well... that was a lie.
It was just me. Sunny mostly nodded, grunted, or raised an eyebrow. But hey, that still counted as a conversation, right?
Still! It was at least okay to assume everyone at the table was acquainted!
Turns out, beneath Nephis' calm facade lurked a sadistic freak. Every time I failed to run 10 lap within two hours. She picks up her 'stick.' I had come to hate that stick with every fiber of my being. Without fail, every time she raised it, I'd end up with a fresh red mark on some unfortunate part of my body.
Do you know the excuse she gives? "This is your incentive to run faster." Like, don't give me that bullshit, woman! You just like to hit me!
I also started practicing swordsmanship. Sounds cool, right? Slicing through the air like a badass? Epic duels under moonlight?
Wrong.
It was all a lie.
The first day, Nephis dumped fifty massive textbooks in front of me. "To master the sword, you must first understand the body," she said. That meant anatomy, biomechanics, physics of the Dream Realm, inertia, sword friction coefficients, and—look, you get the idea.
It wasn't training. It was academic torture.
Still, I learned. Slowly, not so slowly with [nimble intellect], But Painfully. But I learned. The latter half of the month, I even began mimicking Nephis' fighting style. It was refined, efficient, lethal. She seemed surprised—pleasantly, I think—at how fast I was picking it up.
Not that I mastered it, of course. My body still lagged behind. I had the instincts and reflexes, but the muscles? They weren't built yet. Even with [Second Skin] helping my reaction speed, there was a hard physical limit I couldn't bypass.
Not without cheating.
My control over gravity improved too, but I refused to use it during training. I didn't want to rely on a crutch. Besides, it had become… weirdly satisfying to push myself through pain. A little masochistic, maybe.
It was Nephis' fault. I swear.
Could I finish all the laps with gravity boosting me? Easily. 15, 20 laps even. But what would be the point? I couldn't control it precisely enough in combat. I had to be better—faster—on my own.
In all four weeks, I haven't beaten Nephis even once in our spars. In combat class, there was Caster, nursing his ego after a certain... incident involving my foot and his nether regions. His attempts to challenge me to sparring matches were met with polite refusals, much to his chagrin.
Every time he looks at me, his face screams "One day, I will kill you!"
He is a scary guy.
But there was this one itch that gnawed me.
My foster parents.
I missed them.
I wanted to hear their voices again. Just once. I wanted to tell them I was okay—even if I wasn't. I wanted to thank them for everything they did.
But I couldn't.
[Nimble Intellect] didn't let me run from reality. I had already accepted the truth. This world was real. That life was gone.
Still, sometimes in the rare, quiet moments—when Nephis wasn't beating me half to death—I'd wonder what they were doing. Did they miss me? Did they think I'd run away? Were they still looking for me?
Or had I already faded from their lives?
A name etched into an old photo.
A ghost.
Was this all just a dream?
No.
The pain told me otherwise.
This was my life now, whether I liked it or not. And if I wanted to survive what was coming, I had no choice but to keep moving forward.
As the day of reckoning in the Dream Realm crept closer, I couldn't help but ask myself—
"How far am I willing to go to survive this world?"
***
"What the hell are you doing?" Sunny asked, raising a brow at Asher, who was hunched over his communicator.
"Learning," Asher replied without looking up, eyes locked on the screen as he spooned another bite of melting ice cream into his mouth.
Curious, Sunny leaned in and squinted at the title.
"The Importance of Gravity?" he read aloud, his expression twisting in disbelief.
Asher remained unfazed. "It's research," he said, voice muffled with ice cream.
Sunny gave up and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. Conversations with Asher were like punching clouds—unproductive and mildly frustrating.
Then he noticed something strange.
"Why are you smiling like that?" he asked Cassie, who sat across from him, a soft and rare smile gracing her lips.
"Is there something on my face?"
Cassie shook her head gently. "Happy birthday, Sunny."
Sunny froze. His expression blanked. "…Huh?"
He had completely forgotten.
"U-Uh… Thanks."
'Wait… how does she know it's my birthday?'
He opened his mouth to ask but was interrupted by a sudden weight on his shoulders.
"Sunny! You never told me it was your birthday!" Asher grinned, pulling him into a side hug like they'd known each other for years.
Sunny sighed. Asher had this uncanny ability—once he got comfortable with someone, boundaries just didn't exist anymore. Personal space? Dead concept.
Wrapping his arms around someone? Sunny could gag.
"Here," Asher said cheerily, sliding his half-eaten ice cream cup toward him. "A birthday treat, from me."
Sunny stared at the offering, then squinted at Asher. "The fuck do you mean, 'it's my treat'! The ice cream is free, dumbass!"
Asher chuckled as he waved his hand dismissively, "Don't pay attention to minor details. Haha."
"You bastard! Let go of me-"
Just then, Nephis spoke up, "Happy birthday Sunny." She said before going back to drink her coffee.
Sunny's expression softened a bit. "Thank you Nephis."
"You are still a pervert though." She added, stabbing Sunny in the chest.
Before he could retort, however, Asher got up and pointed a finger at Sunny, "You never told me thank you! You simp!" Sunny got up as well with clenched fists and furrowed brows, "What the fuck are you talking about!? You never wished me!"
"Huh? I wished you!"
"No, you didn't!"
"It doesn't matter! Tell me thank you as well!"
"FUCK YOU, BASTARD!"
"HEY! I HAVE A NAME, YOU KNOW!"
"NOBODY FUCKING CARES!"
"I DO, FLOWER BOY!"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
"THEN CALL ME BY MY NAME!"
"FUCK YOURSELF!"
Their escalating volume turned heads at other tables. Asher and Sunny stood toe-to-toe, practically growling at each other like rabid animals.
Nephis sighed, sipping her coffee as if this were completely routine now.
Cassie sat quietly, listening. She couldn't see the way Sunny's fists clenched or how Asher's hair bounced with every furious gesture. But she could hear the chaos in their voices.
The bonds forming through shared time and trivial fights.
She turned her face slightly toward them, her unseeing eyes soft with emotion.
'It's a shame,' she thought, showing a small smile. 'I wanted to spend more time with all of you.'