“I’m Aurelius, sir.”

“You look like him, maybe,” The Nightweaver replied, his gaze shifting to meet with Silas’ eyes. “But the soul is not. Not only this, but your time is different, too.”

Silas bowed, his back practically parallel to the floor. At this point he wasn’t even sweating, the panic seeping in so deep that it was simply hidden. He had no way out of this, and the system had been quiet ever since the man touched his shoulder. He repeated, “I am Aurelius, sir.”

“Who sent you? The Outsiders? Deities? Empyreans?”

“Empyreans?”

His spine suddenly faltered as gravity pressed down harshly against Silas’ form, forcing him to his knees. His forehead dug into the hardwood even as he felt his bones creaking. Where was he? Why did they know of the Empyreans? His flesh screamed in agony whilst his nails dug their way into the floor. He couldn’t even scream because he couldn’t even breathe.

The Nightweaver mumbled to himself and the pressure disappeared from Silas’ body. Fresh air flowed freely into his lungs, tasting better than even the best of Anne’s pies. He swallowed it down like water, rolling onto his back and calling out desperately to the system. Had it sent him here just to die?

[Evaluation of Memory: Incorrect]

[Power assigned]

[Mission failure no longer possible]

[Extraction possible when alone]

“Hmm?” The Teacher crouched down next to Silas’ writhing form, his eyes meeting Silas’ with the words of the System in between them. His eyes trailed slowly along the words before settling back on Silas. His palm slowly filled Silas’ vision until it was resting on his face. “Do not resist.”

Memories flowed across Silas’ mind like a river as a giant ethereal figure picked them out from the water one by one, reviewing and reading them before haphazardly tossing them to the side. He looked upon the world inside Silas’ memory with great interest. The pace slowed when the Nightweaver saw his memories of crafting guns or using the rune technology common to their world. Yet at the end, the man seemed distraught. He had never seemed anything but lackadaisical before, but now he seemed lifeless. “We failed. I see.”

Silas was back in the red streaked room before he knew it, his memories right back where they belonged. His body ached as the surrounding darkness placed him on the seat opposite the Teacher. He barely had the energy to speak.

“You have a mission, yes?”

“Do you resent what I put you through?

“Would you want to go home?”

“Do you want to know what I just did?”

“Reply before I kill you properly.”

“I don’t have a mission.” Silas whispered, his body feeling like jelly in the chair. “I am Aurelius, sir.”

A deep sigh spread throughout the room and the rhythmic tapping of the man’s nails resumed as he stared Silas down. Silas almost thought he saw pity in the Nightweaver’s eyes. Confusion. Loss. With a wave of the man’s hand the bird at the side of the room flew straight at Silas and disappeared into his shoulder, leaving a purple black hawk tattoo on his skin. Information rapidly filled his thoughts and made his head feel heavy. “You can’t stay a month. I’ll give you one day to form a Nightmare Seed.”

With the soft sound of wind, Silas was suddenly alone in the red streaked room. No Nightweaver and no nightmarish bird, just silence and shadows. He dragged himself up out of his seat and took a moment to look around the room. The door was no longer there.

“What the actual fuck just happened!” Silas screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls right back at him. Quick and fast, his life suddenly lost control. First the Darktide, then the Ascension Lotus, then this Nightweaver, True King bullshit. His soul was read? His memories were picked apart and watched like a play? He has a tattoo now?

Yet when Silas grew quiet the rage only grew louder. From start to finish, he hasn’t been able to do a damn thing. Glass saved his life, then the Ascension Lotus fucked him over, and now Erebus is forcing him to form a Nightmare Seed-

Silas’ thoughts stopped for a moment as the name Erebus solidified in his head; where did he learn the man’s name? His mind reeled back and sifted through his memories, willingly this time, and found an enormous amount of information. His recent memory was forced full of stuff about the Nightmare Seed and the method to form it. How to raise it, nurture it, and eventually grow it. The creator of this specific method was Erebus himself, the man who just effectively tortured, branded and read his memories.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

And Silas just wanted to try it.

Could he form a seed? Create a nightmare spirit? Become more than just human? Did he want to? His world changed rapidly and so many times, could he afford not to? Is it a trick?

He sat down in the middle of the room and dived deep into his memories. His dreams, his nightmares, his fears. Erebus makes the nightmare seed from a person’s deepest fear, and what was his?

Soon, the silence of the room was broken by the faint sound of hissing and slithering. His breathing slowed and his mind grew still, focusing on these noises, what they meant. Sweat covered his hands for the umpteenth time that day but he didn’t falter- his mind couldn’t afford it. Split your soul and feed it your deepest fear- that’s Erebus’ method. Nothing had to be done to split the soul other than read what Silas called the Nightmare Script. What did the words mean? He didn’t know. He was gambling.

The slithering grew louder, the hiss right next to his ear. His eyes refused to open even as he felt cold scales wrap around his arms, tightening against his flesh and bone until he lost all feeling. He just had to finish the chant. Feed his fear to the split soul and give it form. The fear was there- now he just had to split his soul.

Silas finally opened his eyes as the last word of the Nightmare Script echoed throughout the room. The giant head of a black scaled serpent stared him down, unmoving and silent. The snake’s scales shined red beneath the room’s false sky, illuminating Silas’ face as a determined look forced its way into his gaze. Then his soul split.

A flash of blue light filled his thoughts and the wave of pain consumed him. Hot and cold, sharp and dull. The bones in his right arm felt like they had been crushed to dust, while the bone in his left felt like it was ripped off. His leg felt like it had been burnt to ash, yet the other felt like it had been frozen solid and shattered. His heartbeat stopped yet his lungs felt full of water.

Wave after wave, the pain shifted places constantly as if refusing to allow his soul to grow used to it. Ceaselessly spreading and moving across his body, it forced him to focus his consciousness in his mind. All he could think of was the blue light, the same light unknowingly shining through his eyes.

Until finally, the pain stopped. A pale black seed appeared in front of Silas’ chest and devoured the image of the giant black serpent. Blue and purple veins spread out across its surface as faint lines appeared in the shape of scales. The red light of the ceiling grew dull and Silas felt refreshed. His memories were suddenly clearer, his thoughts faster, his senses so much more vivid!

He felt his mind grow stronger with every second of this seed's existence, the faint connection between them giving him untold mental energy. Even the exhaustion from Erebus’ soul reading had all but disappeared. He tugged on the faint connection he felt with the seed and it floated back into his chest before appearing in his mind, as if imprinted upon his thoughts. With its presence in his mind, it was followed by a soft blue light- the same one Silas saw upon passing out during the Darktide.

[Evaluation successful. Innate talent excavated.]

[Soul based. Potential: High]

[Congratulations, Wayfinder]

[Pathway learned successfully, Legacy detected]

[Mission successful]

[Return imminent]

Colour began to disappear from Silas’ surroundings as he stood silently in the room, reading the messages. The black walls shifted to a bright white and the red disappeared entirely as the walls fell through, yet the desk remained. A soft sight filled the white space and the transformation suddenly stopped. Steps approached slowly from behind but Silas couldn’t move, the tattoo on his shoulder burning hot and making his body feel like lead.

“I see.” Erebus muttered, stepping forth and past Silas. The Nightweaver placed a hand on his desk gently, looking around at the blank white light that formed the Lotus Space. “Genius, truly, but weak. Did you expect someone to follow them back?”

The space shook and a crack spread through the desk. Erebus clicked his tongue with a shake of his head, lamenting the destruction of his furniture. His aura flared and the shaking stopped, the world forced to remain still. His eyes, their black sclera and silver irises, scanned Silas head to toe. Even now he felt like the man still saw straight through him.

“I wasn’t sure if you could do it in a day or not. Someone would have discovered your soul anomaly otherwise, my apologies.” The man spoke quietly and bowed lightly.

“Whoever designed your system.. did it hastily. Yet they can still deal with a True King. How marvellous.”

“You did good, Silvanus.” Erebus smiled, the desk behind him cracking again. “When your Nightmare evolves, look for me in the real world. We’ll see if you can become my real student then.”

A third and final crack split the desk into pieces and the white light grew blinding. When his vision recovered, the man and his desk were gone, leaving only the endless vast expanse of the Lotus Space.

[Congratulations, Silvanus. You are now a Nightweaver]

[You are in Fear Refinement]

[Your strength remains Mortal tier. Your reflection remains unchanged]

[Would you like to submit your Nightweaver Legacy for points?]

Silas ‘replied’ with the intent to agree and he felt a subtle force pervade his mind, copying the contents before leaving him, to his knowledge, unharmed.

[140 points awarded]

[Shop unlocked]

[When you wish to leave, simply will it so]

The fog in the distance dissipated at this moment, revealing the dilapidated buildings it previously obscured- newly repaired and good as new. This wasn’t what Silas was worried about, however. He flooded his mind with the ‘intent’ to leave and found the white space around him grow increasingly blinding- until once more he found himself sitting in that messy room with Glass.

Corpses lay around the room, Deium Oil staining the floor in a weird mixture of the strange creature’s blood. The furniture, once shattered around the room, was now stacked up against the door as it shook ceaselessly, threatening to come undone. Glass had his back against the pile of debris, his eyes wide as they stared at Silas.

“You done daydreaming yet? Help me keep this fucking door closed!”