The Parting (Pilot episode)

"In the heart of humans many things exist. 

In the downtrodden slum, where despair seemed to seep through the very air, there lived a small boy. He was just five years old, but life had already cast a heavy shadow upon his tiny shoulders.

His days began before the sun willed to rise, as he trudged through the narrow, muddy alleys of the slum, his tattered clothes hanging loosely on his frail frame. He carried a bundle of old, scrapped newspapers almost as big as he was. Each morning, his mission was the same: to sell these discarded relics of yesterday's news to scrape together a few coins to help his struggling self. 

It wasn't the best idea in making money, it wasn't the most effective way to earn credits but it was the only way the boy knew how to make money.

His small, determined eyes betrayed the weight of his circumstances, forgetting the simple joys of childhood children should have.

His voice, though feeble, rang out through the slum as he approached anyone who passed by, his little hand holding out a crumpled newspaper. He would utter the words, "Please" But in the slums, spare change was a luxury, and few had a spare.

The sun beat down relentlessly on him as he made his rounds, his small feet leaving faint imprints in the dusty streets. His hunger gnawed at his belly, but he persevered, refusing to give in to despair. His tiny shoulders may have been burdened by the cruel reality of life in the slums, but his spirit remained unbroken.

There were days when he would sit in a quiet corner, tears mixing with the dust on his cheeks, wondering why life had to be so harsh. But in those moments of despair, he'd remember his non-existent family's smiles and dreams of a better life hypnotizing himself in a hungry delusion. With renewed determination, he'd get up, wipe his tears, and continue his quest to sell newspapers.

As the evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, he would count the meager coins he'd collected, his fingers fumbling over each one. It was often not enough to fill his empty stomachs, but it was something—a small glimmer of hope in the vast darkness of their existence.

The little boy's story was one of resilience in the face of overwhelming adversity. He was just a five-year-old child, but he was a symbol of unyielding determination, a reminder that even in the harshest of circumstances, the human spirit could endure and continue to fight for a better tomorrow." 

".... " After hearing this an unintroduced man hesitantly inhaled a breath and spoke. 

"Boss, What the fuck, I go to buy ice cream for few minutes and you're already narrating someone's life. " He said while holding 2 soft serves of vanilla. 

The narrator's eyes switched from the child and moved toward the man "You took too long Julius" shrugging his arms and leaning his back into the public seat near the park "I needed to do something while you were gone or else this drowsiness is going to be the death of me." answered the teenager with a sly little smile. 

Looking at the boy who was being narrated Julius tried to make sense of his "boss's" story. 

The boy looked better than the story had suggested, his clothes were a little bit cleaner, not many people were buying his newspaper, but some people still bought it. Not for information but out of pity, but hey, credit was credit Julius guessed.

"Why are you narrating that boy's life and why did you make it so sad " Handing one of the ice creams to the teenager, Julius asked. 

"Well…. " Instead of taking one of the ice creams, the teenager took them both. 

Looking towards the sky the teenager spoke with a serious tone. 

" I've been working too hard, people under us have begun to forget what life was like back then. " 

Not immediately eating the ice cream he looked back towards Julius. " I think our juniors should remember the times before it started, the times when people would resort to murder for synthetic paste, back when we just started internal threats nearly equaled those losers from south..... *sigh* I just want people to be free. "

Looking back at the sky.

" I have a dream, Julius . I want our people to be free. " 

Julius looked at the teenager with no sadness in his eyes ignoring the sad story of the teenager " Boss, stop spouting nonsense, I know why you're doing this, so you think I forget about the ice cream." without a delay he jabbed one of the soft serves back. 

"Gimme that." Moving with great agility that doesn't match his size Julius snatched the delicacy back and started eating his share.

The teenager snarled at Julius " You're no fun, but my point still stands I will make the slums great again." Smiling a little while gazing to the sky, the young teenager swore to the sky with a pose. 

" Boss I know you mean what you said but when you take a pose while saying it I can't take it seriously. " 

" Whadduyumean? " the teenager said while adopting another ridiculous pose. 

Julius just gave up and silently enjoyed his ice cream.

Couple of minutes had passed as the two enjoyed their ice cream, and suddenly a black vehicle stopped in front of them. A man who looked to be in his early twenties walked out of the car wearing another stylish 3-piece suit along with what people would call a magnificent goatee. 

"Boss, Julius for the love of God, WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU!!! the others were looking for you all over the place. We almost started another war because you guys went radio silent. Do you even know how many favors i pulled to get a personal vehicle?" Cursed the man while approaching the two.

While the teenager waved his hand apologizing Julius took a deep breath and let out a sigh

 "Calm down Ronald, Boss just needed some ice cream. " looking at the teenager yet again. "And some time to calm down."

After a brief exchange of information three of them sat inside the vehicle and drove towards the police station. 

Barely anyone owned a personalized vehicle these days, not because of the disparity in wealth or anything too political, the answer was way simpler than that. With the advancement of public transport, improved variety of traveling method, ever presenting threat of nightmare creatures destroying you hard earned property were compelling enough. 

Sitting on a leather chair the teenager closer his eyes and tried to feel the luxury, but after few seconds of silence his eyes opened. Frustrated by the machinations of fate he broke the silence, starting a conversation.

" that boy " 

" huh? " J

"the boy who was selling the newspaper. " 

"yes? " J

"He reminds me of myself. " 

"how so " Ronald inquired with interest.

"When I was his age, I too was selling newspapers hoping to earn enough to survive. I struggled everyday gathering the thrown away newspaper from the upper district scrapping them in order to sell them to sate my hunger. The boy reminded me of that " 

" Oh boss, I didn't know that. I'm sorry " Ronald said sincerely. 

" Don't trust in his bullshit Ronald, he is half lying to you, he was already a member of a gang when he was 6. I have been working with him since he was 8, the only reason he sold newspapers was because he thought it was a secure way of handling information and sending it to others." 

Ronald rolled his eyes at the teenager. " R'ly boss, I felt genuinely sorry for you, you know. " a small smile forming below his magnificent mustache " But still 6 years old, that must be some kind of a record. " Praising his boss.

The teenager laughed at Ronald's words " sure give me a medal when I become an awakened. " 

As the small bickering went on in the car, slowly and steadily the car was nearing the police station. 

While coming close to the police station the teenager noticed his left hand shaking. Raising his hand observing it, the teenager took a deep breath muttering 'No Fear' repeatedly, slowly but surely the shaking stopped. 

No matter how much he played around, goofing with his family/friends and executives putting on a carefree mask to stop them from worrying about him and deluding himself the fear couldn't be erased, the thought of entering his first nightmare deeply unsettled him. 

Finally reaching the destination The teenager looked at the two men *sigh* " I guess this is it, I think I should say some final words you know. " 

Holding his hand up before the two could answer back. 

" Julius as the head of Dreamers, I hereby declare you as the new temporary head of Dreamers, Ronald you shall be the witness." Pointing three fingers at Julius the teenager continued.

"You know my ideals, Julius and I trust you to keep them. From the information I have gathered in order to awaken properly and with a decent ability, I need to become a sleeper first conquering my first nightmare. After that I should have some time before I need to enter another nightmare going somewhere in the Dream realm. Maybe not much time since the year is ending soon. "

Clapping both hands together " If all goes well gentlemen, I will see you in 2 to 3 days in Soma's restaurant as a successful sleeper. " 

Before the two could respond he raised up his hand again. 

" And most importantly, you are not allowed to change the name, the 8 year old me decided that name and I will follow his wish, are we clear gentlemen?" 

Ronald raised his hand. 

"Yes Ronald, anything to make clear?" 

Coughing once Ronald asked sincerely. "Why cant we follow you to the station boss, i m sure the police captain wont mind if i explain our reason well enough." 

The teenager looked back with confusion. Pointing at Julius with one finger. "You question is quite silly Ronald, i mean look at us, arent we too intimidating?. Julius used to be a very active criminal few years ago, the scar across his neck is enough evidence for the police to recognize him and you have the perfect stereotypical villain mustache, the black shades doesnt hide your burnt wounds. And above all that, two rugged adult alleged criminals following a innocent teenage boy such as me, is too suspicious. Me going alone is a subtle deception any more is unnecessary. "

Begrudgingly Ronald nodded with agreement, while Julius snapped his fingers with a *tch*. He had been thinking of changing their name, moment the teenager left. Gangsters from the slums calling themselves Dreamers was quite embarrassing after all. 

Waving goodbye and exchanging last goodbyes to his men the 3 men separated.

Turning his back towards his friends/subordinates the teenager let out a breath, pondering and remembering the chaos that was the last few days, Because of his logic followed, less than optimal sleep schedule he wasn't able to discover it early, so when he realized it was a hellhole, all the plans he had went out the window, the small chance of being infected by the nightmare spell actually happened.

He has been acting like a fool to calm himself and his men but it wasn't working, Julius and Ronald were too close with him to be fooled.

But as much as it was called a curse it was a blessing as well. Only thing he needed to accomplish was to survive. Quite simple.

Finishing his thought, the teenager walked into the police station. At least he tried to, until a patrol officer outside the station stopped him. 

"Can I help you?" fixing the cap hat on top of his head the officer asked.

The teenager scratched his chin. "Yes, in fact, I am here to turn myself in. " 

"Excuse me?" the officer asked to clarify the situation. 

" Oh. "coughing to get a straight voice, the teenager said, "As demanded by the Third Special Directive, I am here to surrender myself as a carrier of the Nightmare Spell." 

The officer's expression instantly changed from confusion to wary. He looked at the young man once more, this time with piercing intensity. 

"Are you sure you are infected? When did you start showing symptoms?" 

The teenager shrugged. 

" 3-4 days, maybe 5 days? " 

The officer grew pale. 

"Shit" 

Then. with a hurried motion, he pressed a button on his radio terminal and bellowed: 

" Attention! Code Black outside the lobby! I repeat CODE BLACK" 

 ***