His voice trailed off as doubt crept in. Everything felt so visceral—the cold stone beneath his knees, the metallic scent of blood in the air, the ache in his chest from seeing them dead. How could something this vivid not be real?

Then he heard it.

A voice—faint and distant, like someone calling from the other end of a long tunnel. Female. Calm despite the chaos around him.

"Satou. Can you hear me? This is a dream. Not everything you're seeing is real, you are being trap here by an assassin called Merc Assault --" then in an instant the connection was cut

The words cut through the nightmare like a blade through fog. Satou's head snapped up, his mind suddenly focusing despite the horror surrounding him. He knew that voice. Had heard it recently, though the context escaped him in his current state.

Morgana. That was Morgana's voice.

"You're trapped in a dream realm," her voice continued, still distant but growing slightly clearer. "What you're experiencing—the deaths, the destruction, all of it—none of it is real. It's nightmare magic designed to break your will. But you're fighting back. Keep fighting. Don't let him win."

"This is a dream," Satou repeated, the words feeling strange on his tongue but carrying undeniable truth. His analytical mind seized onto Morgana's words like a lifeline, using logic to cut through the emotional manipulation. "None of this is real. It's a dream. A nightmare. I'm asleep and this is all—"

The world shattered like glass.

When it reformed, everything had changed. The twisted settlement was gone, replaced by a foggy, featureless landscape. The torture scenarios had vanished. Instead, Satou found himself standing in an endless gray void where visibility extended only about twenty feet in any direction.

And in that visibility, he could see them clearly now.

Nightmare demons.

They were grotesque creatures of shadow and malice—some resembling twisted animals, others humanoid but wrong, still others completely alien in form. Their eyes glowed with hatred, and they circled him like predators surrounding wounded prey.

More importantly, Satou could see Void Fang at his hip. Could feel his powers thrumming beneath his skin. Could sense his abilities coming back to him.

And in the distance, barely visible through the fog, was a door. A single door standing alone in the void, ornate and solid and very clearly an exit.

"So that's the game," Satou muttered, his strategic mind finally able to function now that he understood what was happening. "Fight through the nightmares to reach the door. Probably where whoever's doing this is waiting."

A nightmare demon lunged at him—a massive thing with too many limbs and a mouth full of razor teeth. Satou's instincts kicked in, and he tried to activate Shadow Step to evade.

Nothing happened.

The demon's claws raked across his chest, and pain exploded—real pain, despite this being a dream. Satou stumbled back, barely avoiding a follow-up strike.

He tried Dragon's Roar. Nothing. Enhanced Speed. Nothing. Lightning Manipulation. Nothing. One by one, his abilities refused to activate. It was as if they existed but couldn't manifest properly in this twisted dream space.

Except…

Satou drew Void Fang, and the reality-cutting blade manifested perfectly, its wrongness somehow fitting in this wrong place. When he swung it at the attacking demon, the blade carved through the creature like it was made of mist. The demon shrieked, tried to reform, but couldn't. Where Void Fang had cut, the nightmare creature simply ceased to exist.

"Well," Satou said, gripping Void Fang tighter. "At least I have you. Let's see what else works."

More nightmare demons were approaching from all directions now, drawn by the death of their fellow. Satou counted at least twenty, maybe more emerging from the fog. They came in all shapes and sizes—some small and quick, others massive and powerful, all radiating malevolence.

Satou tried his abilities again systematically. Shadow Step? No. Void Step? No. Earth Manipulation? No. Fire? No. His standard powers refused to function.

But then he remembered something. His Devouring ability—he'd used it by instinct during battles, often without consciously thinking about it. What if...?

One of the smaller nightmare demons lunged at him, and instead of just cutting it with Void Fang, Satou activated his Devouring ability as he struck. The demon shrieked as it was cut, but instead of just dissipating, it was pulled into Satou's blade, absorbed, consumed.

A notification appeared in Satou's mind

[Devouring Successful] [Nightmare Demon (Lesser) Consumed] [Skill Acquired: Fear Resistance (Minor)]

"It worked," Satou breathed, shocked and exhilarated. "Devouring works here. Which means..."

He looked at the approaching horde of nightmare demons with new eyes. They weren't just obstacles. They were resources. Each one he devoured would make him stronger, give him new abilities, help him survive in this twisted dream realm.

"Alright then," Satou said, raising Void Fang. "Let's do this."

Meanwhile in the Real World

Lyra woke to morning sunlight streaming through the window and immediately knew something was wrong.

Satou hadn't moved. He was lying exactly as he'd been when they'd all fallen asleep hours ago—on his back, arms at his sides, completely still. Too still. Normally, he shifted positions throughout the night, occasionally mumbling in his sleep or reaching out to pull one of them closer.

But now he was motionless. Like a corpse.

"Satou?" Lyra shook his shoulder gently. No response. "Satou, wake up. It's morning."

Still nothing. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but his eyes remained closed, his body unresponsive.

"Jessica," Lyra said, her voice taking on an edge of urgency. "Jessica, wake up. Something's wrong."

Jessica stirred, blinking sleepily. "Mmm? What's wrong?" Then she saw Satou's unnaturally still form and her healer instincts kicked in immediately. She scrambled to his side, her hands glowing with diagnostic magic as she checked his vital signs.

"His heart rate is elevated," Jessica reported, her voice becoming more concerned by the second. "But his breathing is shallow. His body temperature is slightly low. And his mana... his mana is being drained somehow. Slowly but steadily."

"Wake him up," Lyra ordered, her analytical mind already racing through possibilities—poison, curse, magical attack. "Use your healing magic to jolt him awake."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.