Nightmares were notoriously rare, even in Arcana. I'd been prepared to spend days hunting for one, yet here it was—right in front of me.
But I couldn't move freely. Not with those students so close.
If I missed this chance, though, who knew when I'd get another?
My mind raced for a solution as the creature stirred.
The Nightmare swelled like a balloon, its shadowy body expanding as it released a bone-chilling scream that rattled the air.
Woooooo!
The sound sliced through the corridor like a blade.
"Kyaaah!"
"Run!"
Panic exploded. Students scattered in every direction, their terrified cries echoing off the walls.
The hallway descended into chaos—shouts, pounding footsteps, the Nightmare's unearthly wail.
But I barely registered any of it.
My eyes were locked on the monster.
It shifted, preparing to move.
This was my chance.
Now.
I sprang from behind the wall, boots slamming against the stone floor as I bolted straight toward the Nightmare.
The fleeing students didn't even notice me, too busy scrambling for safety.
The distance between us closed in a heartbeat.
This was it.
Either I seized this opportunity… or I might never see another Nightmare again.
As I reached the clearing, new sights came into view—things I hadn't noticed before.
Scattered across the ground were ownerless belongings, tossed about like debris after a storm. Bags, weapons, and trinkets lay abandoned, silent witnesses to the chaos.
And in the middle of it all stood a lone figure.
A woman.
She stood frozen, staring blankly at the Nightmare as if her mind had simply shut down.
Why is she just… standing there?
The creature let out a guttural snarl, its massive hand rising, swelling in size as it prepared to strike.
No.
That thing is mine.
A surge of instinct—no, determination—shot through me. I couldn't let this chance slip away.
Without a second thought, I lunged forward and grabbed her arm, yanking her back with all the force I could muster.
Her body tilted backward, limp and unresisting, as if she were a doll in my grip.
In that instant, our positions reversed—she fell behind me, and I stood between her and the monster.
Then the Nightmare's shadow swallowed me whole.
A wall of blackness crashed over me, thick and suffocating.
Before I could even catch my breath, I felt myself being pulled—dragged—into the heart of the darkness.
And then…
Nothing.
Only the cold, endless void.
----
"I hope she didn't see my face…?"
The first thing I did when I opened my eyes in the pitch-black space was scratch my head hard enough to hurt. Not a single ray of light seeped in—just endless darkness pressing in from every side.
I wished it was only my imagination, but… no. I was almost certain our eyes met right at the end.
"Why… why did she have to be there of all people?!"
Of all the countless characters in this world, it had to be her.
Elnoa Asmond.
The only daughter of Duke Asmond.
A woman who, in the webtoon, would one day become a jealous villainess—one of the key obstacles standing in the protagonist's way.
And I… I was the idiot who grabbed her arm.
"Ugh, seriously." I rubbed my face and let out a sharp breath. "Fine. What's done is done. Regretting it won't change a thing."
For now, I needed to focus on where I actually was.
I slowly scanned the void around me.
This place… it was deeper than Arcana. The absolute core of the dreamer's consciousness. A place no outsider should ever be able to reach.
Normally, entering here was impossible.
But I'd forced my way in using an unorthodox method—one only a handful of people would even dare to attempt.
A person who has taken Mongyeoldan making direct contact with a Nightmare.
That was the sole condition for breaking into this inner realm.
I'd known about it long before tonight. I'd planned every step.
And despite the unexpected accident along the way… I'd made it here.
I exhaled, forcing my thoughts to settle.
Whatever came next, I couldn't afford to panic.
I groped through the darkness, my hands sweeping across empty air. Nothing. No sound, no light—just an endless void.
I kept searching, my fingertips brushing against nothing but the cold, still air.
Then—
"…Found it."
A faint, hard edge met my touch.
I pressed down.
Click.
The sound echoed sharply through the emptiness.
In an instant, the space before me began to ripple. Out of the nothingness, faint lines of light flickered to life, weaving together until they formed the outline of a massive, floating screen—like a giant TV materializing in midair.
I could only stare as the dark void bled into color.
The screen shimmered once, then a scene began to play as if it were a movie.
—Professor, you called for me?
A young woman's voice, soft but clear, cut through the silence.
The image sharpened to reveal a female student stepping into an office lined with books.
—Yes. Come in. Please, have a seat.
A middle-aged professor gestured toward a chair across from his desk, his expression calm but serious.
I blinked, realizing what I was seeing.
This… wasn't just a vision. It was a memory.
The memory of the Luminary—the owner of this dream.
—Do you know about Elysium? the professor asked.
The girl nodded cautiously.
—Yes… It's the place where people who want to become professors go, isn't it?
—That's correct. And the reason I called you here today is related to that.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief breaking through her calm.
—Professor… are you saying that I could go to Elysium?
The professor's smile was faint but certain.
—Yes. From what I've observed, you have the talent for it. Perhaps… are you interested in becoming a professor yourself?
The girl's breath caught, her fingers curling tightly in her lap as if she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
The memory lingered there, glowing faintly against the endless void.
A bad professor, luring an innocent student with sweet words.
—Talent…? Me?
The girl's voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
—Oh dear.
The professor chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with an unreadable light.
The young woman tilted her head, her intrigued expression betraying her hesitation. She didn't know—couldn't know—that a single choice might change the entire course of her life.
He spoke gently, patiently, spinning promises like a spider weaving its web. And after what felt like hours of quiet persuasion, the girl finally nodded, accepting his proposal.
The screen flickered.
The scene shifted.
—"Professor! We don't have enough time!"
—"Then extend the time."
—"But… time is limited."
—"Have you tried?"
—"…No, but—"
—"Then try first."
The exchange echoed like fragments of an old recording.
Another memory followed, sliding seamlessly into view.
—"I've decided to conduct research on slimes this time."
—"..."
—"What are you doing? Go catch some."
Ordinary, almost mundane recollections of a Luminary—simple moments, but heavy with unspoken meaning—flashed across the screen in quick succession.
One after another.
Until finally, the memories faded.
The screen dissolved into darkness, and in its place, a small door appeared.
It stood silently before me, faint light leaking from the cracks around its frame.
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then, taking a slow breath, I reached for the handle and pushed it open.
The door creaked softly, and a vast space unfolded before me.
It was like stepping into a sacred temple—grand pillars stretching into infinity, the air thick with a quiet, solemn reverence.
In the very center of the chamber sat a woman.
Her long, flowing hair shimmered faintly in the dim light as she rested in a chair, eyes closed as if lost in a deep dream.
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
Without thinking, I slid my hand into my pocket and tightened my grip around the small object hidden there.
Each step toward her echoed across the endless hall, sharp and deliberate.
Now.
This was the moment.
The moment to wake up from the dream.