I was caught completely unaware, as the feeling that I was being forcefully sucked through a narrow tube suddenly overcame me, but that wasn’t nearly the worst part of my situation.

My lungs felt as if they were gradually filling with water, and panicking, I reached for my neck, scratching, tearing and clawing my skin, but I couldn't exert any force. No matter what I tried, the drowning sensation persisted.

Almost as if I had come to the end of the tunnel, I came to an abrupt stop after a minute of that watery hell, finally standing on solid ground and able to draw breath once again.

Despite my surroundings being completely foreign and unknown, I paid them no attention, as I keeled over on my hands and knees, desperately filling my lungs with air.

Calming down somewhat, I stared at the floor beneath me that was oddly reminiscent of a pillowy white cloud, and I was forcefully brought back to reality as a horrible panic overtook me.

Shooting back up, I stared at the translucent blue rectangle floating in front of my face.

A rapidly decreasing number was displayed on the box, the amount of time I had left before I was transferred if Rat was correct, and five smaller rectangles labeled 25%, 50%, 100%, 200%, and 400%, each with a corresponding number beneath, 1x, 1.5x, 2x, 2.5x, and 3x.

I immediately pressed down on the third option, 100% for a two times multiplier.

I would essentially be gaining twice as much with the same amount of effort; I would be an idiot to choose otherwise.

Seeing that I still had a little less than nine minutes left, I breathed a sigh of relief. Rat had told me everyone got ten minutes on their first dream, whether they were in S or D class, and if everyone went through the same drowning sensation, I probably wouldn’t be at too big of a disadvantage even after taking a minute or so to recover.

My heart beat slowing, I calmly surveyed the countless number of weapons floating in the air around me.

It was exactly the same as the dueling preparation room in that there was seemingly every type of weapon provided with every conceivable corresponding preference taken into account, such as length or whether or not the sword was singe or double edged.

The only difference was that miscellaneous supplies, such as food stuffs, waterskins, leather chest pieces, and plate were also provided. More importantly however, my sub-level one sword, and the 7th compendium were also floating at the very front of the other weapons.

A feeling of joy overcame me at that sight. That meant not only were those 100 points I paid Rat not wasted, but that he also hadn’t been lying.

Immediately snatching my sword artifact, then the compendium from the air, I smiled, before throwing them onto the floor.

I had already decided to take them with me before even coming into The Dream, so any further contemplation would be a waste of time.

Biting my lip, I stared at the other weapons around.

It would be best to bring a spear, for the range it provided. But by that logic, wouldn’t a small crossbow be better? But a crossbow needed bolts, which could run out, while at worst, a spear would just need to be sharpened.

I would only be in The Dream for three days, assuming that I wasn’t immediately killed by another student or the monsters, so the likelihood of my needing to sharpen the spear was slim to none, but again, by that line of thinking, the chances of my running out of crossbow bolts in just three days was also incredibly unlikely.

Not to mention, I could also just pick the bolts back up.

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Standing still in quiet contemplation, a sobering realization came over me.

Like the dueling preparation rooms, there was nothing saying that I could only bring a set number of things.

Rat hadn’t mentioned that, but I doubted that was out of malice. It was more likely that he just overlooked it, figuring that I either already knew, or that I could figure it out.

I slapped myself in the face, before taking a spear, a small crossbow, and a quiver of bolts. About to look at the supplies offered, I turned back, grabbing a small knife out of the air and tossing it onto the small pile I had created.

Moving onto the not-combat related items, I grabbed a leather chest plate, leather satchel, what looked to be a smoked sausage, a fabric pouch filled with jerky, and an empty waterskin.

I smiled in satisfaction, looking over to see that I had about a minute left to spare.

I sat down on the floor, about to lay back and just stare blankly up at nothing, when the cold metal tip of the spear I retrieved pressed up against my bare leg.

Looking down in confusion, I finally noticed.

I had been in the nude the entire time.

Panicking, I scanned the floating items, noticing that between a darkly colored cylindrical rock and a leather helmet was a fabric shirt and pair of pants.

Cursing in my mind, I quickly got back up, and ran over.

Just barely making it, I tore the shirt and pants from the air and threw them to the ground, immediately being transported onto a flat grassy plain as I did so, the pieces of clothing fluttering in the air and landing on the swaying blades of grass.

I quickly put the pieces of clothing on, and began to survey my surroundings, my first priority being to locate my weapons.

With the wind blowing into my face and carrying the indescribable, yet distinct scent of spring with it, I spotted the glint of sunlight bouncing off metal in the tall grass, and quickly ran over.

Despite my currently wearing clothes, I felt oddly naked without a weapon in reach.

After tying the provided quiver of crossbow bolts and my sword artifact’s sheath to my waist, I slung the spear over my back, and stuffed the rest of what I brought into my satchel.

Looking down at my hand, unbeknownst to me, a golden ring had appeared on my right thumb. Though, I wasn’t surprised by that. I was told in advance that would happen, and what the ring could be used for.

I loaded a bolt into my crossbow, and began to move forward.

To be incredibly honest, I had absolutely no overarching goal for my first three days in The Dream.

Rat may have given me a lot of information, to the point that I could confidently say that out of everyone in the first year, I was likely the most knowledgeable about The Dream, but even so, I didn’t know anything truly important.

Everyone probably already knew from the rule book that at midnight between Sunday and Monday every other week, we would have the option of entering The Dream by just sitting on the blood red magic circle embedded into the floors of our rooms.

But other than that, the others were probably completely and utterly in the dark, though that was mostly by design. Sadism was very obviously deeply engrained into the personnel working at Celestia, as when I asked my Alchemy 101 professor about The Dream, she just laughed, saying that telling me would spoil the fun.

From what Rat said, The Dream, at it’s core, was a highly condensed, controlled recreation of the real world.

But he also very clearly relayed that after the first four dreams, anything could change, from the environment, the duration, or even the main theme.

The first set of dreams would always last three days each and be themed around being able to freely roam around, but after that, anything could be changed. The landscape could become a frozen wasteland or a scorching hot desert. The main goal could change from us being able to freely do whatever we wanted to being forced to fight one another until there was only one man standing.

We were completely at the mercy of the professors.

But even so, wasn’t my life always like that, if not worse?

The only difference was that now, I willingly chose this path.

Before, when I was still a slave laborer, or even when I was in the Baron’s army, I was never able to find meaning, a reason for why I suffered so. I was directionless, akin to a blade of grass, swaying with the wind.

Sure, I always wished for freedom, always wished for one more day of rest before I would inevitably be forced back to the battlefield.

But if I wasn’t a slave, I never would have felt such a way.

And if that was true, then could I even have said that I truly existed back then? Hopes, dreams, fears, desires; those things made up every human being. But whether indirectly or directly, for me, those things previously all centered around those who owned me. Were my dreams even truly mine? Did me, as I knew myself truly exist?

I chose to believe that they were, and that I did.