The darkness was absolute. Ethan couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, couldn’t hear. He didn’t even know if he was standing, floating, or simply suspended in a void. For all he could tell, he wasn’t even breathing. It was an oppressive kind of nothingness, the kind that clawed at the edges of sanity and pulled every instinct to its breaking point.
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, even though he couldn’t feel his body. The sound of his own frantic heartbeat was the only anchor to his existence in this void. His breaths, shallow and panicked, echoed faintly as if they were being swallowed by the emptiness surrounding him.
The fear was primal, rooted in a place so deep within him that it felt almost ancient. It wasn’t just the absence of light; it was the absence of everything. The kind of silence and darkness that made a person feel like they’d been erased. Every nerve in his body screamed for movement, for action—anything to fight the feeling of helplessness—but he couldn’t even tell where his limbs were. Was he even whole? Was he even real?
His chest tightened as if the very air around him was pressing inward. The fear of the unknown, that innate, instinctive dread that lived in every human, surged to the surface. He wanted to scream but couldn’t open his mouth. He wanted to run but had no legs to carry him.
Just as he thought he would burst from the terror, his heart hammering in his ears, a faint crimson hue appeared in the distance. It was so faint that at first, he wasn’t sure if it was even real or just his mind playing tricks. But it grew, pulsing gently, like a heartbeat. The light painted the darkness in shades of red, pushing it back ever so slightly. The hue was both mesmerizing and unsettling, its presence alien in the vast void.
Ethan’s chest heaved, and suddenly, the darkness broke.
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He woke up with a violent jolt, his body jerking upright as his lungs desperately sucked in air. His shirt was damp, clinging to his skin from the cold sweat that drenched him. His heart was still racing, and for a moment, he just sat there in bed, staring into the dimness of his room, trying to piece himself back together.
"What... was that?" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling slightly.
The dream, or nightmare—whatever it was—lingered in his mind like a stubborn shadow. The suffocating darkness, the weightlessness, and that crimson hue... it all felt so vivid, too real to just be a simple dream. He rubbed his face with shaky hands, trying to shake off the lingering dread.
After a few moments, he reached for the bedside drawer. The diary with the solitary "D" on the cover felt reassuring in his hands. Pulling out the pen attached to its back, he flipped it open and began scribbling, his handwriting slightly uneven from the residual tremors in his fingers.
"Entry Two," he muttered under his breath, as if speaking the words would help cement them into reality. He continued, speaking aloud as he wrote:
"I just woke up from a dream—no, a nightmare. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I was... nowhere. Just surrounded by darkness. I couldn’t move or see or feel anything, but I could feel the fear. It was consuming me. Like something ancient was watching, waiting. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and it felt like I was going to explode from the pressure of it all.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a red light. Crimson. Faint at first, but it grew. It wasn’t comforting; it was strange, almost ominous. I don’t know what it was or why it appeared, but it was the only thing that broke the darkness. The only thing that... made me wake up."
He paused, tapping the pen against the page, trying to gather his thoughts.
"What does it mean? Is it just my imagination? Or is it something more? I can’t shake the feeling that it’s connected to this place. This realm. Whatever it is, it’s unsettling. I’ll have to keep an eye out for any signs or patterns... or maybe I’m just overthinking it."
Closing the diary, he let out a long exhale, running a hand through his hair. The bedside clock caught his eye. 4:00 AM.
"Great," he muttered. "Too early to wake up, but too late to go back to sleep."
Deciding it was pointless to linger, Ethan swung his legs over the edge of the bed and began to dress. The dream still hovered in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his boots, and stepped out into the hall.
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The corridors were quiet, the only sounds being the soft hum of distant lights. As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit him, cool and refreshing. The horizon was tinged with the faintest hint of orange, the promise of dawn creeping in. Streetlights lined the path, their glow casting long shadows that danced and stretched as Ethan walked.
He glanced down, noticing his own shadow. For a moment, it seemed... odd. Not wrong, exactly, but strange. It flickered, almost as if it moved independently of him. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but he shook it off. "It’s just your mind playing tricks," he muttered, quickening his pace.
As the training field came into view, Ethan felt a sense of calm wash over him. The dream, the shadows, the unease—all of it faded into the background. Another day was beginning, and he would face it head-on, just like he always did.
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The days seemed to blend together for Ethan as the week marched on. Each morning began with grueling physical drills, followed by hours of theory classes and practical exercises under the watchful eyes of Gabriel and the other supervisors. For Ethan, it was a continuous cycle of effort and observation. He kept to himself mostly, listening, learning, and occasionally engaging in small conversations with his team members. Despite his introverted tendencies, he couldn’t help but take note of everyone around him.
One of the recruits who stood out was Zane, the only other boy in Ethan’s team besides Herbie. Zane was wiry, with sharp features and an easy grin that masked a sharp mind. Unlike Herbie, whose enthusiasm often outpaced his sense of caution, Zane was calculated, always observing before acting. During one of their breaks, Ethan found himself sitting next to Zane, watching as the other boy deftly twirled a small pebble between his fingers.
“You’re awfully quiet, Ethan,” Zane said without looking up. His voice was casual, but there was a weight to it, like he was testing the waters.
Ethan shrugged. “Just taking everything in. There’s a lot to learn here.”
Zane smirked. “Smart. Most people try to prove themselves right off the bat. Not you, though. You’re playing the long game.”
“It’s not a game,” Ethan replied, frowning slightly. “I’m just trying to survive.”
At that, Zane finally looked at him, his dark eyes gleaming with interest. “Survival, huh? Fair enough. But remember, sometimes to survive, you have to make moves. Staying still only works for so long.”
Ethan didn’t reply immediately, letting the words hang in the air. Zane’s advice felt oddly profound, even if it was wrapped in his usual nonchalance. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ethan said finally.
Zane grinned and tossed the pebble away. “Good. I’d hate to see someone like you get left behind.”
The moment was interrupted by Herbie’s loud laughter echoing across the field. The boy had somehow managed to trip over his own feet during a simple agility drill, earning a sharp reprimand from Gabriel.
“HERBIE!” Gabriel’s voice boomed. “Do you think this is a circus? Get back in line and focus, or I’ll have you running laps until your legs fall off!”
Herbie’s face turned crimson as he scrambled to his feet, muttering apologies. The rest of the recruits tried to stifle their laughter, but Gabriel’s glare silenced them immediately.
Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. Herbie’s antics, while sometimes frustrating, brought a bit of levity to an otherwise intense environment.
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As the week progressed, the training grew more demanding. Each day introduced new drills—obstacle courses that tested their coordination, exercises to improve their endurance, and even sparring sessions where they were taught the basics of combat. The theory classes were equally challenging, covering topics like the nature of the realm they were in, its history, and the mysterious entities that inhabited it.
Ethan diligently took notes during these sessions, his diary filling up quickly with observations and insights. He learned about the destroyed Valhalla, a place of glory and honor that had been reduced to ruins over 200,000 years ago, and the whispers of how this realm was its successor, though tainted and fractured. These lessons painted a picture of a world both fascinating and terrifying.
By the end of the week, the recruits were exhausted but also sharper, their initial awkwardness giving way to a budding sense of discipline. On the last day of the week, Gabriel called for a multi-team meeting on the training field. The recruits gathered, their faces a mixture of curiosity and weariness.
Gabriel stood at the front, his arms crossed as he surveyed the group. “You’ve made it through your first week,” he began, his tone neutral. “Congratulations. But don’t let it go to your heads. The real work begins next week. Combat training and meditation exercises will start, and trust me when I say this: if you thought this week was tough, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
A few recruits exchanged uneasy glances, while others straightened up, their determination evident.
“Tomorrow morning and afternoon,” Gabriel continued, “you’ll have some free time. Use it wisely. Rest, recover, do whatever you need to prepare yourselves. But remember, you’re not allowed to leave the compound. In the evening, there will be a brief session to go over what’s expected of you moving forward.”
He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd before settling on Ethan. “And as for the matter of... extracurricular requests,” Gabriel said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk, “I’ve heard some of you have been asking for televisions or other distractions.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the group, and Ethan felt his ears heat up. He had mentioned the TV request in passing, but apparently, it had reached Gabriel’s ears.
“This is a military compound,” Gabriel said firmly. “Not a vacation resort. You’re here to train, to become stronger, and to prepare for whatever challenges lie ahead. Entertainment is a luxury, not a necessity. The only TV you’ll find here is in the cafeteria, and it’s there to broadcast news, not cartoons.”
The recruits groaned quietly, but Gabriel’s raised eyebrow silenced them. “However,” he added, “you are allowed to apply for a radio if you really want something to occupy your free time. Radios are small, portable, and, more importantly, they won’t distract you from your training.”
With that, he dismissed the teams, leaving the recruits to disperse. As Ethan walked back with his team, Herbie let out a loud sigh.
“A radio?” Herbie said, pouting. “What are we, grandpas?”
Zane smirked. “Maybe you should focus more on staying upright during drills instead of worrying about entertainment.”
Herbie stuck his tongue out at him, earning a laugh from Iris and the others. Ethan couldn’t help but smile at their banter.
As they reached the dorms, Gabriel’s voice echoed in Ethan’s mind. He glanced at his team, feeling a strange mix of camaraderie and determination. Tomorrow was a rare chance to rest, but he knew the real challenges were only just beginning.
Just as he opened the door to his room, a loud crash echoed down the hall, followed by Herbie’s panicked voice. “Uh... guys? I think I broke something important!”
Ethan sighed, shaking his head as a small grin tugged at his lips. “Of course he did,” he muttered, stepping into his room and closing the door behind him. The week had ended, but it seemed the chaos was just getting started.