Chapter 2: Nightmare Begins
Hugo woke up feeling a profound sense of numbness seeping through his limbs. His eyes were heavy, his thoughts mired in a thick, drowsy fog. Every movement was a sluggish effort, as if he were pushing through deep water.
But beneath the physical torpor, something else was happening. Something deep within the core of his being was shifting, twisting, and eager to awaken.
A fundamental change, subtle and inexorable was slowly beginning.
Realization dawned with the cold clarity of a shard of ice.
It was simple, really. For anyone living in the era of the Nightmare Spell, the symptoms were as familiar as they were dreaded.
Hugo had been infected.
He was an Aspirant.
At his age, the chance of infection was at its peak. For most, this news would be a death sentence, a source of pure terror. After all Who would welcome being thrust into a First Nightmare, forced to face vile abominations with a staggeringly high chance of a gruesome death leading to a transformation into a Nightmare Creature oneself? No sane person would do that...
But Hugo… he was not exactly sane.
he stared at his reflection in the smudged mirror, a vile, mad smile stretched across his face.
"Ha… Hahaha…" He clutched his head, a messy, choked laugh escaping his lips, tears of sheer, unadulterated joy streaming down his cheeks. "Finally… I can be just like her."
---
[Three Hours Later]
Hugo stood alone before the NQSC police station, a monolithic structure of grim, utilitarian concrete. He watched the comings and goings of the officers, their faces set in professional masks of weary authority. The long walk from his dilapidated neighborhood had done little to ease the strange lethargy clinging to his soul.
He had left without a word to his father. So If he died in the Nightmare, the man would have no idea, learning of his son's fate only through a cold, official notice.
A strange mix of guilt and vindictive sadness washed over him. But he did not back away.
Even if he failed, his death would achieve one of his lesser, darker goals he had in mind, it was to spite his father. The pain of losing a wife and then a son would be utterly unbearable; it might even be the final push the man needed to join them.
'Good… He should've thought about the consequences of his actions a long time ago'
Hugo snarled internally, shaking the morbid thought away. After all He wasn't planning on dying. He had a promise to keep.
Steeling himself, he walked inside toward the reception desk. The officer behind it looked up, his expression bored until Hugo spoke, his voice flat and rehearsed.
"As demanded by the Third Special Directive, I am here to surrender myself as a carrier of the Nightmare Spell."
The officer paled dramatically. "Another one?!"
Hugo tilted his head. 'So, someone else was infected today...' The statistical probability was actually quite high, but the coincidence felt significant, a ripple in the fabric of his fate.
The officer sighed, running a hand over his face. "How long have you been infected? When did you start showing symptoms? And Are you sure?"
Already feeling the weight of sleep pulling at him, Hugo replied, "I think it's been a while, but the drowsiness was overwhelming this morning. And yes, I'm sure."
The officer looked like he might faint. He snatched his communicator, his voice sharp with urgency. "CODE BLACK! CODE BLACK, WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE!"
---
A short while later, Hugo found himself being secured into a bulky chair that was a sinister hybrid of a hospital bed and a torture device. The room was buried deep in the station's basement, its walls thick armor plating, the only exit a formidable vault door. Armed officers stood guard along the walls, their grim expressions and automatic rifles creating an atmosphere of tense finality.
In the chair next to him was another boy, skinny and pale, who seemed barely conscious. Hugo gave him a cursory glance before dismissing him. His own impending trial was all that mattered.
His mind was a swirling mess, but one thought burned with crystalline clarity: Power. This is the only path forward that he would be content with.
Finally, the vault door hissed open, and a gray-haired policeman with a seasoned, stern face entered. He checked Hugo's restraints with practiced efficiency, glanced at his wristwatch, and then fixed Hugo with a grave look.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Hugo," he answered, his voice steadier than he felt.
The old policeman grunted. "Do you want me to contact your family?"
Hugo simply shook his head, his expression a mask of cold indifference. "... No not really "
He lied
A shadow passed over the policeman's face before his expression hardened into one of grim duty. "Alright, Hugo. How long can you stay awake?"
"Not long," Hugo admitted, the words feeling like lead.
"Then we don't have time for the full procedure. Try to resist for as long as you can and listen to me very carefully. Okay?" Not waiting for a response, he leaned closer. "How much do you know about the Nightmare Spell?"
Hugo gave him a tired look. "As much as anyone I guess. You complete the First Nightmare, kill some monsters, get magic powers. Become a dreamer then get sent to the dream realm on the winter solstice and after returning you become an awakened "
The policeman nodded with a hesitant expression "that is mostly correct... But I'll have to warn you, in your first nightmare you won't encounter just monsters, you will come across humans too. So you need to remember, they are not real merely apperations made by the spell. "
"How do you know?" The boy next to him suddenly spoke, a spark of defiance cutting through his drowsiness. "No one understands the Spell. So how can you be sure they're not real?"
The policeman's eyes were flinty. "You might have to kill them, kid. So do yourself a favor and just think about them as illusions."
The simple, brutal statement hung in the air. "Oh."
"A lot depends on luck," the policeman continued addressing the pale young boy. "Generally, it shouldn't be overwhelmingly hard. The situation, the tools, the creatures… they should be within your abilities. The Spell sets up trials, not executions. You're disadvantaged, but… you look like a tough kid. Don't give up on yourself."
The boy merely grunted in response. The darkness at the edge of his vision was creeping inward.
"About those 'magic powers'… you will receive them if you survive. What they are depends on your affinity and your actions during the trial. But some of it will be available to you from the start…"
The voice was growing distant, echoing down a long tunnel. Hugo's eyelids were massive weights, the same could be said for the other boy next to him.
"Remember: the first thing you must do is check your Attributes and your Aspect. If you get a combat Aspect, something like a Swordsman or an Archer, things will be easier. If it's reinforced by a physical Attribute, even better. Combat Aspects are the most common."
The armored room was dimming, the lights seeming to fade.
"If you're unlucky and your Aspect has nothing to do with combat, don't despair. Sorcery and utility Aspects are useful in their own ways; you'll just have to be smart. There are really no useless Aspects. Well, almost none. So just do anything in your power to survive."
The policeman's final words were the faintest whisper, laden with a pragmatic, chilling honesty. "If you survive, you become an Awakened. If you die, you'll open a gate for a Nightmare Creature to appear here. Which means my colleagues and I will have to deal with it. So… please don't die, both of you, Hugo, sunless. "
'so that's his name...' Hugo thought...
Then For a split second, Hugo felt a strange, hollow pang at the man's sincerity towards him –and the other boy–
"Or, at least, try not to die right away. The nearest Awakened won't be here for a few hours. We would really appreciate it if you don't make us fight that thing ourselves…"
What a world, was Hugo's last, fragmented thought.
Then, the last of his resistance crumbled, and he fell into a deep, absolute slumber.
Everything became black.
And then, in the profound darkness, a faintly familiar, resonant voice rang out, severing his last connection to the world he knew:
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]