Sunny opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was…
Master Jet.
Currently, she was stretching her arms above her head, clearly bored and sleepy. The gesture forced the thin fabric to tighten, provocatively accentuating her full breasts.
Way too close for comfort — or maybe just close enough, depending on who you asked.
Honestly?
There were worse things to wake up to after surviving a literal nightmare.
He blinked.
Focused.
Reassembled his mental defenses.
Jet raised an eyebrow.
"What are you staring at?"
Sunny didn't even hesitate.
"Just… a very beautiful woman."
She studied him in silence.
He smiled. Innocently.
Well — as innocently as someone like him could manage.
Thankfully, no slap came.
The rest of the exchange played out the same as before.
He didn't push it.
Didn't test his luck.
There were some lines even he wasn't reckless enough to cross.
At least, not twice.
He had no intention of changing too much, too fast. Acting out of character would only raise suspicion — and Jet wasn't the type to ignore warning signs.
For now, subtlety was his best friend.
Survival, as always, came first.
As he stepped out of the PTV, Sunny found himself standing near Nephis at the front gates of the Dreamer Academy.
At first, Jet didn't think much of him.
Just another quiet, awkward Sleeper — skinny, polite, forgettable.
But as Sunny stepped out of the car and disappeared into the crowd beyond the Academy gates, Jet remained still, her gloved fingers resting lightly on the wheel.
A frown crept onto her face.
"That kid's… strange."
It wasn't anything obvious. Nothing she could put her finger on. But something about him had made her skin prickle, the way it did when her battle-hardened instinct whispered that something was wrong.
It's like sitting beside a tiger that's pretending to be a housecat.
She hadn't been able to place it while they were together. He was careful — quiet in all the right ways, soft-spoken, even respectful.
But now that he was gone, the feeling had crystallized.
"He's a predator," she murmured under her breath.
"Trying to act harmless. But he's not. He's not harmless at all."
Jet exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable.
"I need to keep an eye on that one…"
And although she would never admit it out loud, not even to herself, something else had stayed with her from their brief interaction — something much more irritating.
That one line he'd dropped so casually.
"A very beautiful woman."
Jet had heard her fair share of compliments. More than enough, in fact. Usually from handsome men who thought they could buy her attention with flattery and confidence.
But this one had hit differently.
Not because it was clever — it wasn't.
Not because he was charming — he wasn't.
But because… he had meant it.
There was no hidden agenda in his voice, no suggestive undertone. Just a simple, honest observation. Like he was speaking a fact.
And it had caught her off guard.
For a second — a brief, ridiculous second — she'd felt something warm stir in her chest.
Jet scoffed, shaking her head.
She told herself it was nothing. Just a strange kid with strange eyes.
But deep down, she remembered those eyes.
Too calm.
Too deep.
Too dark.
Eyes that had seen too much… and still knew how to hide it.
Sunny, meanwhile, paused for a moment.
The building loomed ahead — vast, elegant, still pristine with that unsettling government-funded shine. To the others, it was new. Untouched.
To him, it was familiar.
He remembered standing here before… twice, in a way.
Once, as a frightened, cynical orphan staring at the gates with reluctant awe.
And once again — long ago, yet also not so long — through the memories of Master Orin, when the Academy had first opened. When Master Orin had stood at those steps with his strange, quiet smile. When Jest of Dagonet had cracked some terrible joke no one understood, and no one dared to question.
Those memories were tangled — some sweet, some bitter.
But they were there.
Despite everything… he felt strangely fond of the place.
And not just because the cafeteria food was surprisingly decent.
Though that helped.
It was something else.
Someone else.
Teacher Julius.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Sunny's lips.
Yeah… that guy had made a difference.
Inside the Academy, Sunny didn't change much.
Not outwardly.
He played the part well — not too bold, not too shy, just quiet enough to be ignored. He took only one course, the same one he had chosen last time: wilderness survival, taught by Teacher Julius.
That, too, was deliberate.
Building a relationship with him now, in the early days, would make everything easier down the line. Trust was a rare currency — and one that aged like wine.
He spent the rest of his time in solitude, cloaked in the silent shadows of his dorm room. Hidden from the world, he danced with shadows — again and again — until his body remembered what his mind already knew.
Every movement, every step of the Shadow Dance was etched into his soul. But knowledge alone wasn't enough. His body had to catch up. Precision, balance, endurance… all of it needed to be rebuilt.
Because the next step was close.
The natural awakening.
And for that, he needed the Soul Serpent.
But this time, there was one thing he did choose to change.
Cassie.
Not because she could offer him anything — not yet. Not because he wanted to gain something. Not even because he felt guilty.
He just saw it now. The way she sat alone, day after day, surrounded by silence. How she had given up hope with trembling hands, so quietly, so desperately… while no one noticed.
Except now, he did.
Maybe it was because his own problems didn't seem so overwhelming anymore. Or maybe — just maybe — her pain had become his problem somewhere along the way.
One day during lunch, he approached her table.
She sat alone, as always.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Do you mind if I sit here?"
At first, there was no response. Her head tilted slightly, as if trying to catch the sound that couldn't be real. Someone… speaking to her?
Then, with the softest flicker of hope:
"…No, I don't mind. Please, sit."
They didn't speak after that.
Not much.
Sunny didn't know what to say — not without sounding false. Even with all his experience, all the knowledge, all the memories he carried, this part still felt foreign. Human.
He didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to pity her. He just didn't want her to feel so alone.
So he returned. Every day. Silent company at every meal.
Until finally, she broke the quiet.
"Why are you sitting next to me?" she asked. "Don't you want to… make friends? Build alliances? You know, to survive?"
He didn't look up from his tray.
"I am," he replied simply. "That's why I'm sitting here."
She blinked, caught off guard. "You… want to be friends?"
He nodded.
Her lips parted, but no words came at first. And then, in a trembling voice, she whispered:
"…I'm blind. I can't offer anything to anyone.
I'll die in the Dream Realm before I can even—"
"You might be blind," Sunny interrupted gently, "but I don't think you're useless."
He leaned back, eyes calm. Calculating, but sincere.
"You might not be able to fight right away. You might need help. But once your Aspect awakens… who knows? The Spell doesn't give for free, but it does balance the scales. It took a lot from you, didn't it?" he said quietly.
His voice wasn't soft with pity — it was steady. Certain.
"So I believe it must have given something in return. Something powerful."
Cassie looked away, her expression unreadable.
"I'm not here out of pity," Sunny continued. "I'm here because I believe in investing in the future. If we end up in the same place of the Dream Realm… I'll protect you."
He stood up to leave, brushing crumbs from his fingers.
She didn't reply.
Not at first.
But just as he turned to go, he heard her voice — quiet as a thought, soft as a ghost.
"…Thank you, Sunny. That meant a lot."
He paused for just a moment, then walked away.
His shadow, as always, followed. Nearly like a normal one would, it just looked a bit gloomy.
He didn't try to reach out to Nephis.
Not because he didn't want to — but because he didn't know how. What would he even say? What could he possibly expect from her now?
So, the day passed in silence.
No grand revelations. No fated encounters.
Just shadows and repetition.
He buried himself in training, slowly pushing toward mastering the first step of Shadow Dance… one breath, one movement at a time.