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Wake up the dreamers

Wake up the dreamers

Years ago , Grand dome , in an unusual mist , from the story of Josh.

“Let me go!” Josh yells , his sword’s blade stuck with the other person’s sword edge. Unable to move it away as his opponent has the upper hand.

“I can’t!’’ the other young man shouts.

“He forced us!”

They are both victims of this god-damn mist , a mist where they became each other’s sinner.

Their sword reflects nothing but the water drops that cannot be differentiated from the drop of tears.

His opponent strikes at Josh’s unguarded side , scraping off his clothes and skin. Red stains the rest of his clothes. As if putting a suit of inferno onto him.

The sword’s edge hits , sticks and tries to go over each other , dancing a dance of death. Josh's sword was no slower or weaker than his opponents. But they know each other’s moves too well.

His sword slams onto the other sword’s tip , flipping it over , and slices to the sword’s owner.

His sword blocks Josh's sword , the blades choke each other’s steel neck. He quickly moves the sword around , striking the opponent’s neck.

Josh’s sword’s tip was painted with crimson and the crimson fountain paints the unwanted winner in red. Josh felt like being forced to be crowned a tyrant. A false tyrant that never wanted to be there.

“We…won’t…escape.”

“Prophecy…will fall,” he says , blood covering his voice.

The man’s sword drops , its fallen echo didn’t go far. As if the mist ate the voices.

“I’m sorry…” says Josh, glasses covered in blood.

This week has been a hot mess. No , not hot mess , solar mess.

Josh walked into his house covered in blood , he couldn’t differentiate the blood on his glasses and the crimson of the door.

Unfortunately for him , today isn’t a rainy day.

Two of his teachers promised to get him help on the door this day. They should be here , he thinks to himself.

He fell onto the floor , hoping his family member would hear his weak breath. The wooden hard floor felt like a warm mattress , sinking his body inside. Pulling Josh into unconsciousness.

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The bang of the giant towered bell awakes him. An unpleasant tingle on his back chills his spine , like putting him in an ice cold shower after a sauna.

he slithers his less tired arm to the inner side of the jacket.

He then puts the weight onto his leg and standed up as he turns. The balisong flipped and stopped centimeter away from the starer.

The man’s features were familiarly looking separated , yet strange when pieces together. He has a feeling that he has seen this face at least once a week.

“Who…are you?” Josh questions.

“You know who I am. You know it better than anyone else.’’

The man then punches Josh right under his ribs , making him almost spit his dinner out.

Another punch went right to his eyes , Josh dodged the punch and stabbed back.

Josh felt a glittering warmth on his hands.

He retracts the blade , but the man catches his hand with his arm , twisting it.

The bones in his limb touched and crushed into each other. Josh almost forgot the feeling of pain. He couldn’t even make the switch of his newly implanted realm-arts on.

With his other arm , Josh gathered the noticeable tiny amount of strength he had left and went to the man’s head.

Out of nowhere , the man is surrounded by silver strings.

The strings wrap him until the crimson floats out of his skin as if it is a sponge full of blood. Without grunt or screaming , the man falls dead.

“I’m late…I…couldn’t save Mistblue.” Josh’s astronomy teacher says , monocle covered in fresh blood.

“You should be in the hospital , not your apartment.”

….

He opens his eyes in the eye-closing sharp light. His joints are all sticky and achy. Josh can’t even lift his own arm. He can’t tell the time , only the buzzing sound of the ceiling light counts the time like a metronome.

Josh slowly rewinds the start of this week. The bargain he made with ‘him’ , the one who implanted his realm-arts.

Thinking now , he regretted that auderheimian scholar-like trade with the thing that he can’t say if it is a devil or something else.

Then he felt the foot stomping sound of somebody. It is messy , running and fast paced walking mixed together like an untasty hotpot.

His heart is pumping faster , even if it couldn’t.

……

Few weeks later.

The bandages are off. Josh’s arms move freely as the leaves in the wind. The wind pours into the room , blowing the papers and flowers away.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Josh shouts as he holds to the window frame. He tries to ignore the blowing wind and the moving crowd.

“Don’t be afraid to kick-open the new door, Josh!”

The blue suited teacher that Josh still doesn't know what his name is grabs his arms , hand holding onto his balisong. The falling of a few meters felt like they were twin comets falling from space.

Even the moment of feet leaving the window frame made Josh question if they already landed.

Realm-arts: Desert of Light.

The silver light burns in his teacher's purple eyes. Things that are invisible solidify into each plank , nail , wood and eventually pulled together into a deck.

“The-re …. Are doors….” Josh says , heart pounding fast.

“You know Josh , I think I may have found your bargaining devil. Hello colleague , or shall I say…future that position?.”