The lights thought they could catch me off guard again, but I came prepared this time, closing my eyes before entering. I patiently waited for the lights that flared on to stabilize before opening them. The room in front of me was much larger than the one before, almost five times its size. However, its coloration was the same, with everything being pure white, except for what looked to be a mirror to the side. A white bed lay beside it, with some clothes placed on top of it.

Although I didn't remember seeing most of the objects before me, I instinctively still knew their names and uses.

'Weird.'

Regardless, I moved forward, placing my axes on the bed before moving towards the mirror. My appearance was one thing I never knew much about. Although I was sure I had seen it during my waking periods, trying to remember anything from then always left my mind with headaches and fog. Shaking my head, I took a look at the reflective surface in front of me.

On its smooth surface, lay a man who looked around 20 years old. His long, dirty blond hair fell shaggily down his shoulders. His weak but healthy build sported a thin white shirt with a pair of similarly colored trousers. His light brown skin tone shone a bit in the sterile lights of the room. Staring confusedly from beyond the reflective barrier were two muted green eyes. A dark metal collar rested on the

base of his neck, with only a small hole facing the mirror appeared on its smooth, featureless surface.

'This can't be right, even if they aren't clear. I remember being a teen back in the real world. Why would I be older in my dreams?'

A dreadful emotion crawled up my spine. I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't like it one bit. I examined the man in the mirror for some more time before the uncomfortable feeling made me shift my gaze.

'Not good to think too much about such things.'

That was one thing my experiences had taught me.

Sighing, I tried pulling on the collar in vain. It tightened its hold on my neck the moment I exerted any effort. In the end, I could only shrug helplessly.

'Beats being in a straitjacket.'

I shifted my gaze from the mirror before heading towards the bed. A completely white tracksuit lay on the soft-looking bed. From what I could see, the material had a certain amount of thickness to it. I averted my gaze to its side, there was a small backpack there. It might not have been the best idea to go around opening bags in strange rooms I woke up in, but my curiosity got the better of me.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Unzipping the bag, I found a large black water bottle with a smaller-than-average loaf of bread next to it. Closing it back, I already had a hint of an idea about the kind of scenario or place I might have found myself in. Weapons, collars, and a bag containing food and water. Then there was the strange announcement earlier. Whatever was going to happen most likely had survival as a huge aspect, which was strange in its own right since I'd have to dream long enough for that to actually happen.

This wasn't the longest I had ever dreamed, but it was certainly close. Well, the best I could do for now was go with the flow until I woke up. It would be any moment now. I picked up the clothes and stuffed them into the bread bag. A pair of similarly colored sock-like shoes lay beneath it. I wasted no time in wearing them, saving my feet from the cold and uncomfortable sensation of the metallic ground. The shoes themselves felt soft, warm, and comfortable, bringing instant relief to my tortured feet.

'Finally.'

With that done, I continued examining the room. I was currently at the right extreme of the room, and between there and the left was just free space. At the left extreme, three legless mannequins stood idle. Looking back at my axes laying on the bed, I supposed it wouldn't be a bad time to practice my skills. If something was going to require me to use them, it wouldn't hurt to get a basic grasp on handling.

I was just about to reach out to them when an announcement rang out.

[Remaining 30:00 minutes before the summoning, participant collars coming online.]

Then something popped up in front of me, startling me and causing me to fall. Unfortunately, it followed me down, making me swipe and claw at it until I realized my hand just passed through the thing. Slowly, I stood back up, rubbing my hurting butt.

'Well, that was embarrassing.'

I looked at the black-colored thing still occupying my vision. It looked like a screen and had some gold-colored writing on it. With a frown, I tried touching it, only to have my hand pass right through. An even deeper frown crossed my face as I read its contents.

[Initializing...]

[Collar #203929109230...22 coming online]

[Welcome, participant #3239420]

[Name: participant #3239420]

[Title: None]

[Kill count (Human): 0]

[Days survived: 0]

[Condition: Healthy]

Stats:

[Build: Prisoner]

[Constitution: F-]

[Coordination: F]

[Spirit: F+]

Pandora:

[True soul piece: None]

[Core ability: None]

[Nightmare symbiote: None]

[Credits: zero]

'I'm pretty sure my name is Galen. Why am I seeing participant #323...? It's too darn long to even remember.'

I couldn't understand most of what I was seeing, and the parts I understood only served to confuse me even more. The stats seemed understandable enough, apart from the spirit attribute. It looked like it was using a standard school grading system, as far as I could tell. It was the only way I could make sense of the attributes. I wasn't too surprised at the constitution. However, it still felt a bit insulting to be directly told I was the weakest of the weak.

'Also... Why is the kill counter specifically human?'

I shivered a bit at the thought. It certainly wouldn't be for any good reason.

I pushed that to the back of my head as I tried closing the window. Time was still moving. The moment I thought of closing it, the screen went down. I thought of opening it again, and it opened. I messed around with it for a bit before something became horribly clear.

'Can it read my mind?'

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. This dream was getting too elaborate. Most of my dreams were like that, but this one took a step further. 'Don't think about it.' That was my mantra. It always helped me get out of messy mind situations. Even I knew my head was a fucked-up place.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the window before picking up my axes and moving towards the mannequins. It was time to train.