Jason was fast asleep on the smaller, less comfortable bed in the quiet inn room. His body still ached from the earlier fight and the partial adaptation, but exhaustion had finally pulled him under. The moment he closed his eyes, something occurred that he couldn't account for.
-
He found himself standing in a very strange room. The air was thick and cold, and the only sound was soft whimpering echoing from somewhere in the darkness. Nothing could be seen. The space felt endless and empty, like a void with walls that pressed in just enough to make him feel trapped.
"Hello? I am not into sex games," Jason muttered, his voice sounding strangely flat in the emptiness.
The whimpering grew louder, but it didn't sound pleasurable at all. It sounded torturous — raw, broken, and filled with real pain. That was when Jason stopped to think about what was going on. He could recall every single thing: falling asleep next to Ylva's empty bed, the events of the day, the fight, the healer, the tavern, the rooftop escape. So why was he here?
"The fuck, stop whimpering you little freak," Jason muttered, starting to feel uneasy.
Before he knew it, a door appeared right in front of him. It had a heavy lock, but it wasn't just any lock — it carried a faint tinge of magic, glowing with a soft, unnatural blue light around the edges.
"Um…" Jason thought to himself. He looked the other way, hoping for an exit, but there was only pitch-black nothingness. All he could see was the door, like that was the only thing that existed in this entire space.
"Fine, I will bite," Jason said, stepping forward and putting his hand on the door.
The moment his palm touched the wood, an overwhelming pain shot through his entire arm and chest, repelling him backward like he had been electrocuted. He stumbled and nearly fell.
"Huh? You can feel pain in your dreams?" Jason thought to himself, rubbing his stinging hand and wondering what the fuck was happening.
But then the whimpering suddenly stopped. A weak, desperate voice came through the door, barely above a whisper.
"Find me… At the center…"
That was all Jason heard before everything went black and he jolted awake.
-
Jason was sweating profusely, his shirt clinging to his skin and his heart hammering in his chest.
He sat up quickly, breathing hard. He couldn't believe how much time had passed — it was already morning, sunlight filtering through the small window. The dream had felt like it happened in seconds, yet the whole night had gone by.
He looked around the room and saw that Ylva was nowhere in sight. She couldn't be seen anywhere. The bigger bed was empty, and her things were still there, but she was gone. A small note had been left on the table, written in neat, flowing script.
Jason picked it up and read it without any trouble, even though it was clearly in a completely different language from English. The system's passive ability made it all perfectly understandable.
[[Gone to get food. Do not leave the room. Stay safe. — Ylva]]
Jason was relieved she had left a note, but that dream lingered heavily in his mind. It was something different. He couldn't explain it, but he felt strangely drawn to whatever — or whoever — had spoken those words.
"Find me… At the center…" The voice had sounded broken, like someone in serious pain, and the magical lock on the door felt too real to be just a random nightmare.
He ran a hand through his hair, still trying to shake off the unease. Part of him wanted to brush it off as stress from everything that had happened since he arrived in this world, but another part knew it wasn't that simple. Dreams in this world seemed to carry weight, especially with the system and all the weird shit constantly happening.
Jason stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city of Eldrath in the daylight. The palace on the hill stood tall and imposing in the distance.
"The center…" he muttered to himself. Was that referring to the palace? Or something else entirely?
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Ylva would be back soon with food, and he needed to decide what to do next. Part of him wanted to tell her about the dream, but another part worried it would sound crazy — or worse, that it might drag her into something dangerous.
For now, he sat back down on the edge of the bed, waiting. The pull from the dream didn't fade. If anything, it grew stronger, like an invisible thread tugging at the back of his mind.
He had survived ogres, werewolves, and blunt force trauma so far. But this felt different. This felt like something was calling him directly — and ignoring it might be more dangerous than anything he had faced yet.