Shadow Slave: Flaw of Gods.

[Welcome to the Dream Realm, Veil!]

Veil gasped for air, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar place… and over his own body. Something pounded furiously in his chest, but it took him a moment to realize it was his own heart. Disbelief filled his hoarse voice as he exclaimed:

— It worked!

Exactly three weeks ago, he had died. And now—he was alive again.

It seemed impossible, yet Veil could feel it: he was here, he existed. He ran his hand over his skin, feeling warmth, the movement of blood beneath his fingers. The realization crashed over him like a wave.

How… how did he survive?

As he recalled the final moments before his death, he understood: everything began with pain. Pain that tore him apart, pain that came and went with surges of foreign energy. Someone had tried to heal him, pouring power into his dying body, but it could no longer hold on. Then, on the very edge of oblivion, desperately clinging to what little remained of himself—he was flung from his body.

For a second—a mere instant—he was no longer Veil.

He was a grasshopper.

A simple green grasshopper sitting in the grass just five feet away from his bloodied corpse.

At first, he was still himself, but soon, his human consciousness faded. He stopped thinking, stopped understanding. He just lived. The days passed in simple reflexes: move, eat, avoid danger. Somewhere deep inside, something flickered—something faint, forgotten, yet still alive.

So many things had to align for him to survive…

If he had died inside the Academy's building instead of outside, he wouldn't have been able to inhabit the grasshopper.

If no healers had been nearby, he would never have regained consciousness.

And most importantly—if he hadn't been infected with a spell that, after three weeks, would send him into the Realm of Dreams… he would have remained a grasshopper forever.

But fate had aligned the pieces into a single picture.

And now he was here.

Alive.

Ready to survive once more.

But what would happen when he left the Realm of Dreams? Would he return to his body? Would a new one be created? Or… would he become a grasshopper again?

The thought sent a chill through him, making him shiver.

He took a deep breath and finally looked around.

It was nighttime. He stood atop a hill, and as far as the eye could see, an unsettling black sea stretched before him. Its waves reflected impossible lights, like stars that, for some unknown reason, had ended up beneath the water.

Wait. A sea!?

Veil's head snapped up, but above him, there was no moon, no sun—only an endless void.

This was an unregistered region of the Realm of Dreams.

A cold sensation ran down his spine at the realization.

Well, at least things couldn't get any worse.

— Hey, who the hell are you?!

Or… maybe they could.

Veil turned toward the voice and saw a nervous, completely naked guy who looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare.

Then again, Veil was also naked.

Beside him stood another figure—a tall, calm man dressed in a black kimono. If the first guy was panicking, this one was a predator, simply watching and waiting for the situation to resolve itself.

Veil studied them carefully.

The first—blond. Long, wavy hair fell messily over his shoulders. His soft features might have made him handsome if not for his current state—disoriented, shaken, like a cornered animal. He didn't seem strong.

The second—brunet. Long, straight hair tied back in a ponytail. Sharp, angular features with a rough stubble. This one was different. He stood with unwavering confidence, a weapon at his side, his entire demeanor radiating danger.

On his hip hung an unusual sword—a Dha. A single-edged blade from Myanmar with a cylindrical hilt wrapped in white metal, and intricate silver and copper inlays along the blade. A weapon crafted not just for battle, but for dismemberment.

The brunet silently drew his sword and pointed it at Veil.

— State your name.

Veil tensed for a brief moment but didn't let himself panic. Instead, in a steady voice, he replied:

— Veil. Academy of the Awakened.

The brunet gave a small nod and lowered his sword.

— I see.

He turned to the blond and spoke coldly:

— Our deal is over. You found another Sleeper. Now, we're strangers.

The blond paled.

— Hey, but he's just a kid! That's not—

The sword was at his throat in an instant.

— I don't care.

The blond swallowed hard. Fear crept into his voice, but something else flickered in his eyes—desperation. He hesitated, then slowly trudged toward Veil.

His gaze burned with resentment.

— Damn it. If you hadn't shown up, everything would've been fine!

His face twisted with anger, but then… something changed.

Realization? No…

Madness.

Suddenly, he smiled. A warm, friendly smile.

— Hey, buddy… he cooed. I just realized something… If you hadn't shown up, I could've survived with him.

He stepped closer.

Veil tensed.

— So… be a good friend, alright? Now…

His face contorted with insanity.

Rocks began to grow from his skin, spreading over his body like living armor.

And then he lunged at Veil.

— DIE!

He had an Aspect that forced his body to grow stones. Clear.

But this wasn't just an advantage.

Yes, he was stronger—perhaps even faster than Veil. But Veil understood the situation. Unlike his opponent, he still had clarity.

He didn't know where he had learned these movements, but his body acted on its own.

The blond lunged at him, his stone-covered hands reaching out like the claws of a predator.

Veil ducked—just for a split second—and his attacker soared over him, missing by mere inches, stirring the air with his momentum.

A weapon.

He didn't have one, and that was a problem.

— Catch!

He barely had time to turn when a sword's hilt appeared before him.

The flying blade gleamed with the faint light of the black sea, and the speed at which it hurtled toward him was terrifying.

Veil instinctively threw out his hand and caught the weapon, but the impact numbed his fingers. The sword was heavier than he expected.

The brunet, still eerily calm, watched with amused interest.

— I don't like unfair fights, so you can keep it for now.

He turned to the blond.

— And you. If you defeat this dwarf, I'll let you stay with me.

Veil tensed.

This was it.

He glanced at the blond, hoping he'd understand. The brunet was now unarmed—together, they could take him down. This was their chance.

But…

Something shifted in the blond's eyes.

Was it realization? No…

His sanity crumbled along with his human form.

— I TOLD YOU TO DIE!

The stone armor went brittle, expanding like a living organism. The blond surged forward, the ground beneath his feet cracking from the force.

Shit. He's even faster now.

Veil dodged to the side, avoiding the strike, and swung his sword. The blade, with great effort, aimed for his opponent's chest.

But when he struck—the sword bounced off.

Like a toy colliding with a rock.

The blond smirked, madness dancing in his eyes.

He lunged again, this time reaching out with his hand.

Veil barely managed to dodge, but it wasn't enough.

A stone-covered palm grazed his thigh, leaving a deep crimson gash.

Sharp pain shot through his body.

Damn it… What could he do to defeat this monster?

Veil hissed, retreating as the blond's clawed, stone-coated hand sliced through the air just inches from his face. Blood dripped from the wound on his leg, and his muscles burned with exertion.

The blond had completely shed his human appearance—his body was covered in jagged gray plates, fused into a crude but impenetrable armor. His eyes burned with fury, his lips twisted in a monstrous grin. He no longer looked human—he was a raging beast encased in stone.

— YOU! SHOULD! NOT! HAVE! APPEARED!

He lunged, the earth splitting beneath his feet, his fist crashing down with a sickening crunch.

Veil barely rolled aside, tumbling over his shoulder. The next second, the blond's punch slammed into the ground, leaving a crater where Veil had just been.

If he lands a hit, I'm dead.

His heart pounded in his chest. Veil attempted another strike at his opponent's side, but the blade merely glanced off the stone plates, leaving only a faint scratch.

— HA! USELESS!

The blond was already turning, his elbow swinging toward Veil's temple.

Veil ducked sharply, but the blond anticipated it, pivoting smoothly on his heel. A moment later, his foot crashed into Veil's chest, sending him flying several meters back.

Air was knocked from his lungs. Veil gasped, rolling across the ground before forcing himself up before the blond could finish him off.

I can't cut through the armor… So what now?

The blond didn't give him time to think.

— I'LL CATCH YOU AND SMASH YOU TO PIECES!

He picked up speed, a living avalanche barreling toward Veil.

Veil managed to dodge, but suddenly, a heavy impact slammed into his back. Pain exploded through his spine.

The blond had turned mid-charge and driven his knee into Veil's back.

Veil let out a choked scream but twisted to the side, barely avoiding a devastating follow-up strike.

My attacks don't work, he's faster and stronger, and I'm running out of strength… How do I win?

Veil frantically searched for anything—any weakness he could exploit.

The blond charged again, swinging his massive fist. Veil sidestepped, but in the next moment, the stone-covered hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground.

The stone fingers tightened—his vision darkened.

— TOO EASY!

No! Not like this… Not like this!

Veil clawed at the blond's eyes with all his strength, but the man didn't even flinch.

The blond suddenly hurled him to the ground.

Stars exploded in Veil's vision. Pain. Desperation. The feeling that every movement required immense effort.

Damn it… He's going to crush me…

The blond raised his foot, aiming to smash Veil's skull.

Veil rolled aside with the last of his strength.

CRASH.

The ground split apart where his head had been moments ago.

— YOU WON'T ESCAPE!

Think, think!

If…

If I can't break his armor…

Then I need to strike where the armor isn't.

Where are the weak spots?

I need time…

Veil leapt sideways, then again, forcing his opponent to chase him. The blond was growing angrier, his attacks becoming more reckless.

And then Veil saw it.

A thin gap between the stone plates at his elbows and knees.

There!

The blond lunged at him again.

Veil abruptly changed direction, ducked at the last second, and—

Drove his sword into the gap at the bend of his opponent's knee.

CRACK!

The blond howled in pain.

Veil twisted the blade, driving it deeper.

The blond collapsed onto one knee, panting heavily.

Now Veil saw his next target.

The neck.

As the blond roared in agony, Veil leapt, raising his sword.

The blond grabbed his leg and hurled him aside with terrifying strength.

THUD.

Veil tumbled across the ground, barely clinging to consciousness.

But he had managed to slash the blond's wrist—his fingers trembled, struggling to form a fist.

He's getting weaker.

They were both on the brink.

One final strike.

The blond lunged, swinging his stone fist.

Veil kicked off the ground, vaulting over him, and with all his might, drove his sword into his opponent's neck.

CRUNCH.

The blond's eyes widened.

Thick, dark blood seeped through the cracks in his armor.

He collapsed, gasping, but he didn't rise again.

Silence.

Only the sound of Veil's ragged breathing and the slow, deliberate footsteps of the man in the black kimono.

He stepped closer, picked up his own sword from the ground, and smirked.

— I respect the strong, what is your name?

Veil exhaled slowly, gazing up at the night sky.

He had survived.