Spotting a sudden shadow to his left, Noah lashes out with the mop, performing a perfect horizontal slash.

Feeling nothing connect with the edge of his weapon, Noah continues to inspect the darkness around himself.

Slashing out many more times at potential enemies, Noah begins to enjoy the feeling of swinging his weapon and engaging with unseen threats.

It evokes a feeling of strength, a confidence that well up within him. He is strong, mighty and unstoppable. A whirlwind of swift strikes that cannot be deterred.

He sees more vague shadows flitting all around him. Inciting him to swing his weapon with an ever greater violent passion.

Every swing, every motion where his weapon cuts through the air. It all coalesces into a blissful sensation, where the weapon and himself become one entity.

Whether he strikes his shadow enemies or not, is no longer his greatest concern. His only thought is on preserving the fluid movements of his battle dance

Making many unnecessary swings, twirls and spins with his weapon, Noah becomes more entranced with each passing second.

That is until he is suddenly pulled from his blissful dream when his mop strikes against the solid concrete of the wall, letting out a loud cracking noise.

Stopping all movement, Noah stiffly raises his mop to get a closer look at what potential damage he has caused to it. Seeing nothing changed in its appearance, he gives it a few shakes to test its integrity.

Feeling nothing wrong with it, Noah reassumes his battle stance, fully intending to enter back into the dream of battle. A small smile is even present on his lips as he allows the dreams to reclaim his mind.

This was the one possibility of escape from the Dreams of Darkness that was presented to Noah. A chance that he has completely overlooked. Preferring to fall back into the blissful sensations of the dream.

Noah's smile transforms into a wide grin where every one of his sharp fangs are shown. He allows himself to be taken away by the cloudy fog that is prevalent in his mind. He does not fight it; does not strain against it.

He lets himself fall deeper into the fantasy of battle. There is no reason why he shouldn't relish these moments of bliss.

There is no precedent of resistance in his mind, he has no experience that would guide him to the thoughts of resisting.

So he falls deeper, becoming one with the dream. Noah cannot be blamed for his lacking vigilance, as he has only just awoken a short time ago.

He is an Undeserving, a Lifeless that is new to the Afterdeath. These are merely his first trials, this is where he is supposed to learn and experience what the trials have to offer. It is to be expected for him to act in this manner, having no restraint or integrity.

No longer is Noah walking through a dark corridor swinging at unseen shadows. Instead he is marching on a battleground, surrounded by hordes of enemies.

He is unable to think beyond his next slash or swing. Constantly reacting to the surging tides of opponents that approach him from all sides.

He is fighting a fantastical war, where he is a sole warrior fighting against an entire army. He is lost within this blurry dreamscape, preoccupied with survival, rather than breaking out of the dream.

The will of that which is Indomitable, shaping the dreamscape around Noah. Creating fictitious enemies that might quench his internal desire for strength.

Gray hills turn to green, that spread out unending in all directions around him. The orange light of the setting sun bathing his fantastical war in its warm glow.

The hordes of enemies that come rushing at him from all sides are destroyed with each passing stroke and every swing he makes.

He exists on this battlefield for an unknown length of time. Only focused on his next attack and where his next opponent will be.

But slowly, the green of the hills start to dim, indicating the fading strength of the dream. The setting sun dips below the horizon. The colorful scenery that surrounds him fades back into a dull series of grays.

The endless hordes of enemies dwindle in number until the last one falls before him. With one final swing of his weapon, Noah brings the fantastical war to a close.

He stands there, breathing heavily while gripping tightly to the mop in his hands. Looking around himself, he sees slain enemies and the rolling dreary hills.

Bringing his left hand up to rub his eyes while blinking heavily, Noah forces the fatigue and exhaustion back.

When he looks up again, he sees clearly what is around him. Plain concrete walls and a small illuminated corridor.

Only now does Noah come to the realization that the entire war was never supposed to happen. At some point he had gotten caught up in a dream.

He stands there blankly for a long period of time, unable to determine what is real anymore. Was the fantastical war a dream? Did he truly fight anything at all? Were there really any insects?

Noah cannot determine at which point reality had become a dream. Maybe none of it occurred, or perhaps all of it was indeed real?

He looks to either end of the corridor. On his right, he sees a dead end only a few steps from himself.

To his left, he can see the door that he and the Janitor entered the corridor from. Only a few short steps from the door sits the Janitor, blankly staring at the wall.

Noah is confused, disoriented and stunned. The corridor is not how he remembers seeing it when he and the Janitor first entered.

The seemingly endless and dark corridor that he walked down. The same corridor that he fought the insects in. The corridor he currently sees does not match with the one he remembers before.

Standing frozen in place, Noah simply blinks while looking between his left and right. He cannot shake off the strangeness he feels after experiencing all this.

The heavy fog that clouds his mind, it is heavy, it is so dense. Finally forcing himself to move, Noah takes a few unsteady steps before finding his stride.

Attempting to push all his confusion, questions and concerns about the situation to the back of his mind, Noah approaches the Janitor. However, he cannot escape the heaviness in his mind.

As he is walking, Noah notices something he had overlooked before. A plain gray door sits on the right side of the hall. He pauses his steps, staring straight at this metal door.

In these few moments of staring, Noah is attempting to piece together his thoughts and memories. He knew instinctively there was something about this door that pertained to his trial.

But the cloudiness inhibits him, slowing down his mind, it is difficult for him to remember why this door could be important.

After a few seconds he is able to recall the distant words the Janitor had said. The generator that needed to be repaired was further down the hall, most likely behind this door.

Reaching out to grasp the handle, Noah turns it and pushes the door open far easier than he expected. He looks into the dark room with his mop still clutched in his hands, at the ready.

He expected something, some enemy to lunge at him from the doorway. His battle hewn instincts made him think this way. But nothing occurs.

Again, the thought drifts through Noah's mind: was any of it real? Were there any insects, did he even fight in a war at all?

It certainly feels like it was real. He believes he experienced it all. His instincts from the war are clear. Yet, he is uncertain if this is the case.

Pushing the door open wider and walking inside, Noah is met with a spacious room that is dominated by two connected metal structures.

They are large cubes with odd pipes and wires protruding out of them. Noah is sure this is the object that he is supposed to help the Janitor repair.

Unsure of where to start, he decides it best to leave the room and bring the Janitor here to have him repair it. Noah having completely forgotten the state the Janitor is in.

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Walking out of the room and back into the corridor, Noah walks over to stand in front of the Janitor and says, nearly forgetting what he is here to repair. “I found the, generator. Can you repair it?”

The Janitor, sitting down while leaning against the wall, responds after a few seconds. “I-I can fix… generator. Have done so... many times before.”

“Good,” Noah says while setting aside his mop and then reaching down to grab the Janitor’s arms, pulling him up off the ground. This sudden action takes the Janitor by surprise, as he stumbles and nearly falls over.

“What’re you doin to me!” The Janitor cries out in sudden anger. Acting as if Noah is an enemy trying to hurt him.

“Get.. away from me!” The Janitor yells and drops to his knees. Noah having let go of him during his first cry.

“Are you going to repair the generator?” Noah responds calmly to the Janitor’s sudden tantrum. “I am here to help you with the repair.” He adds slowly.

Tilting his head in confusion, the Janitor slowly looks up at Noah. “Help me.. to repair.. the generator?” Then like a light flashing in his mind, he remembers. “Yes! The generator… needs to be fixed!”

He jumps to his feet with sudden energy, but immediately stumbles and collapses, his forehead making solid contact with the concrete of the floor.

The Janitor’s wounded, disoriented and fatigued body was not able to keep up with his erratic thoughts and intentions. Resulting in his painful tumble.

Unfazed by his sudden fall, the Janitor looks up towards Noah. “Help me get up lad!” He says with blood trickling down his face. “I need to get to that generator!”

Noah simply looks at the scrawny man, taking no initiative to help him get up. Conflicted with himself as he was so easily able to grab the Janitor earlier, but now feels hesitant to do so.

“Grab under my arms and haul me up lad.” The Janitor eventually says while making an effort to crawl towards Noah.

Taking a moment to consider what the Janitor says, Noah reaches his own conclusion about how he feels towards helping the man.

Thus, after a few silent moments with the Janitor struggling on the ground, Noah slowly reaches down and pulls him up.

They walk down the hall and into the doorway of the generator room. The Janitor grasping onto Noah’s arm for support while hobbling forward.

It takes a few moments for the Janitor’s disoriented mind to recognize the room. When he finally does, the Janitor directs Noah to bring him towards a specific place.

“Bring me to that box lad, on the left wall.”

Noah turns to look at what the Janitor is pointing at and sees a fuse box against the wall, the door panel is left wide open with countless switches and wires in it.

Walking with the Janitor, Noah approaches the fuse box to allow the man to lean on the wall for support.

Reaching the box, Noah steps away as the Janitor begins to inspect the interior wires and switches.

He watches as the Janitor begins to mumble to himself while bringing his fingers across labels, following wires and flipping countless switches.

Noah allows his mind to drift for the short duration the Janitor is inspecting the box. Thoughtlessly staring ahead, only existing within the cloudiness of his mind.

Everything feels surreal to him. Like he is not doing any of the actions he is performing. There is a distance, like he is observing himself act before he makes any conscious decision to do so. He has felt like this since waking up from the fantastical war.

After a minute with nothing occurring, other than the constant clicking of flipped switches and ravings from the Janitor, Noah hears a voice call out to him, which brings him back to the present.

With an unexpected tone of clarity, the Janitor says. “Lad! There is something else that needs to be done. None of the switches for the north wall are working.”

Noah silently redirects his attention to the Janitor who is addressing him.

“Now, I need you to go over to the right,” The Janitor points to the wall opposite of the one the fuse box is on. “You need to look for any faulty wires over there.”

Looking over at the far wall, Noah begins to walk over, thoughtlessly following the instructions.

Observing from a short distance away, Noah can see a jumble of multi-colored wiring and fragile looking foil pipes connecting to the nearby generator.

“What do you see lad?” The Janitor calls out.

“A bundle of wires.” Noah replies without much thought.

“Are there any stray ones?”

Noah does not reply, unsure of what the Janitor is referring to. His untrained eye only sees a disorganized mess.

To an electrician or someone with suitable knowledge, it would be easy to discern the purpose of each wire and pipe. Unfortunately, Noah has no knowledge pertaining to this subject.

Hearing no reply from Noah across the room the Janitor calls out again, “Is there a red one on top?”

Looking around the mess of wires, Noah spots a few red ones.

“If there is, make sure it's connected to the same block as the main black wire,” The Janitor yells out instructions for Noah to follow. Being the most coherent and logical he has been since Noah met him.

Following the path of one red wire, Noah discovers something that could be a problem. This wire, that the Janitor might be referring to, is torn apart, completely disconnected from the latter parts of its length.

Some observant individuals may even be able to tell this was the work of some small creature that had bitten into or torn apart the wire.

Seeing the disconnected wire, Noah has the thought that it should be rejoined. As that is similar to the Janitor’s instructions, which he did not fully comprehend.

Reaching out and grabbing both ends of the faulty red wire, Noah brings the exposed metal together and wraps them around each other. Straining his fingers to bend and connect them firmly.

This would normally be an unsafe act as wires and electric currents can cause serious bodily harm. But to the oblivious Noah, there is nothing wrong with this action.

To his benefit, nothing happens. This is for one simple reason. There is no electric current running through the wire he is holding onto. There would be a much worse outcome if there was.

Finished with his repair work, Noah walks back over to the Janitor, who then asks him. “Did you fix it lad? Everything is all connected?”

With a slight movement in his shoulders, Noah replies in uncertainty. “Maybe, I connected a wire.”

“Okay! Let's give it a go then!” The Janitor says with enthusiasm, while flipping four switches consecutively. The Janitor’s excited and bright demeanor is the complete opposite of Noah’s dazed one.

Starting with a low thrum, the generators begin making noise, evidence that they are now operational. After a few moments, with both Noah and the Janitor waiting in silence, the generator's roaring gets louder.

Until eventually the thrumming noise is so loud Noah can barely make out what the Janitor is trying to say to him. He just stares at the Janitor’s arm that is pointing towards the door.

Still with his dazed mind and cloudy thoughts, Noah takes a few moments longer to finally understand what the Janitor is trying to indicate.

The repair work for the generator is finally finished. As if to prove this conjecture, Noah’s mind is filled with an announcing monotone voice.

“Trial 2 complete. Now beginning trial 3. Lifeless, your task is to find the disoriented girl and guide her to the art room.

Having been forced to understand his next trial, Noah begins to move forward, with the intention of finding the disoriented girl.

After a few steps, Noah is pulled back as he feels a hand grab his arm, bringing him to a stop. He turns his head to look back at the Janitor who is holding onto him.

Still unable to hear what the Janitor is saying to him, Noah simply looks at the scrawny man.

The Janitor meanwhile pulls on Noah’s arm and uses the more able bodied man for support to walk, as his face crinkles up in what could be pain or joy.

Only after the Janitor stumbles a few steps forward does Noah too, begin to walk. Strangely, Noah accepts the Janitor’s grasp on his arm, not feeling too uncomfortable with the close proximity they share.

Noah’s dazed and cloudy mind that has existed since the fantastical war could be a factor in why he is able to tolerate the Janitor’s touch.

Noah lets the scrawny man hold onto his arm, while he stumbles around trying to walk. They both are heading in the same direction anyhow, so Noah doesn't bother with the effort to push the man away.

Looking forward down the short corridor after exiting the generator room, Noah pays no mind to the Janitor’s struggles and has no intention of aiding him anymore than he already is.

The cloudiness in his mind impedes any thoughts or intentions he might otherwise have. He just exists, thoughtlessly walking forward, not minding the discomfort the Janitor causes him.

Feeling his arm suddenly be jerked backwards, Noah is forced to turn around again. He sees the Janitor bending down to pick up the mop he had been carrying earlier.

Struggling to stand back up, the Janitor then offers Noah the mop while shouting unnecessarily loud because of the now distant thrum of the generators.

“Take it lad!” Then lowering his voice he continues. “I’m sure you can make good use of it.”

Blinking a few times, Noah cannot help but remember himself swinging it in the fantastical war that might have occurred not too long ago.

He doesn't feel anything but a numb acceptance. He is still unsure if any of it was real at all. But he doesn’t reject the offered mop.

Silently reaching out, he grabs the mop and grips it tightly in his hand. He cannot help but be fond of the feeling the solid wooden handle gives him.

With a gapped tooth grin, the Janitor looks at Noah. “Aye, take it lad. Go and give those Dreams of Darkness a few good swings to show ‘em what for.” Then quietly to himself he adds. “That's more than I could ever do.”

Looking away from the Janitor, Noah begins walking again, gazing at the closed door that leads back to the maintenance closet.

Subconsciously in his mind, Noah begins to feel a deeper emotion than the simple toleration he had for the Janitor before.

There is no more disgust; no more repulsion. Not a fondness or an attachment to the Janitor, but just a neutral acceptance of him.

Noah does not know why he feels this way towards the man. But for some inexplicable reason, he does not mind him anymore.

It’s sufficient to say that it is the Janitor’s own fragmented mind that allows Noah to accept him. The illogical and shattered mind of the Janitor is seen as a positive trait to Noah.

As throughout the entire time Noah has been with the Janitor, his mental faculties were never all there.

But there is one more trait about the Janitor that Noah noticed. He is not like the individuals participating in the Trials. The Janitor is not counted amongst the Lifeless.

He is the same as the many other teachers and students that still exist within the School of Dreams of Darkness.

For those reasons, Noah can accept the Janitor’s grasp on his arm.