Jay’s eyes opened to a blinding ceiling light, flickering like a faulty memory. For a moment, everything felt... wrong. Not in a painful way—but like a dream was trying to follow him back through the cracks of sleep.
His mouth felt dry. His thoughts were sluggish.
> Why do I feel... watched?
The infirmary bed creaked under his weight. The school nurse’s office was empty. A clock ticked steadily in the background, but Jay noticed something else:
A faint blue shimmer in the corner of his eye.
> [SYSTEM ALERT: Primary Anchor Status – UNSTABLE]
[Class: Lazy Genius – Partial Override Detected]
[Core Alignment Conflict: Subject R.K.]
His heart didn’t race. His body didn’t shake. But his soul? That trembled.
He could feel something had shifted—no, been stolen—from within him.
> "...Rei," he murmured.
The name had always been there. Somewhere at the edge of his thoughts. But now it was central—a burning line carved into the walls of his mental space.
Suddenly, his HUD flickered again.
> [SHARED MEMORY LOG DETECTED]
[View Fractured Segment?]
Jay didn’t think. He clicked.
Rei. Fighting. Screaming. Bleeding.
Inside a world Jay never remembered building, but somehow owned.
The Dream Archive. The Chrono Phantom.
Jay wasn’t chosen because he was talented.
He was chosen because he was apathetic enough not to fight back.
> "You weren’t lazy. You were made to forget."
Jay fell to his knees beside the infirmary bed.
> They gave me power... to keep it away from Rei.
For the first time in years—no System enhancement, no amplified intellect—Jay felt his chest tighten.
The kind that cracked reality at the seams.
Outside the room, reality wavered.
Lights dimmed. Walls vibrated slightly, as if the entire school was caught in an invisible pulse.
And in the center of the HUD, one final notification appeared:
> [SYSTEM ERROR 404: Dream Anchor Splitting Detected]
[Warning: The World is Beginning to Wake Up]
Jay stared at the flickering screen.
And for once, didn’t look away.