Chapter 13: Shadows of Reality

The school hallway stretched endlessly in front of him, each step feeling heavier than the last. Wan blinked, willing himself to stay grounded, repeating Sofia's words over and over in his mind like a lifeline: "Hold onto what's real. Just breathe."

He rubbed his eyes, trying to push away the images from last night's nightmare—the endless mirrors, the mocking laughter, the twisted figures. Even in the bright daylight, it all lingered just beneath his skin, pulling at him, making him feel as though he hadn't truly left the nightmare at all.

"Just act normal," he whispered to himself, trying to steady his breathing as he approached his locker. They don't see it. They don't know.

But as he fumbled with the lock, his fingers clumsy from exhaustion, he heard a familiar, mocking voice from behind him.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up."

He closed his eyes, already feeling his stomach knot with dread. Not now. Just ignore it, he thought. But it was too late. He turned to see Daniel leaning against a locker a few feet away, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face.

Wan said nothing, turning back to his locker, pretending he hadn't heard. But Daniel's laughter carried over, louder, meaner.

"What's wrong? Too tired to talk?" Daniel sneered, moving closer. "Or are you just going to run away again?"

"Just leave me alone, Daniel," Wan muttered, his voice low. He pulled a book from his locker, trying to ignore the prickling heat creeping up his neck.

"Leave you alone?" Daniel mocked, his voice laced with fake innocence. "Come on, you should know by now—that's not how this works."

Without warning, Daniel reached over, grabbing the book from Wan's hands and flipping it open. His eyes skimmed over the notes inside, and a smirk curled across his lips. "Wow, this is sad," he said, holding the book up for the few students who had stopped to watch.

Wan clenched his fists, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, hoping Daniel would get bored and move on. But Daniel wasn't finished.

"Come on, freak," Daniel jeered, "don't you have anything to say? Or are you afraid of what I'll do if you try?"

The words dug into Wan, echoing his own self-doubt, stirring memories of the distorted images and mocking laughter that had chased him through the maze in last night's nightmare. He felt the edges of reality blur, his vision darkening as his pulse thundered in his ears.

"It's not real," he whispered to himself, barely audible. "It's not real."

Daniel, hearing him, laughed even harder. "What's that, freak? Talking to yourself now? Maybe you should just stay home if you're going to act this pathetic."

Wan's face flushed, the taunts piercing through his resolve. For a split second, he wanted to shout, to tell Daniel off, to shove him back and let him know that he wasn't some toy to be picked apart.

But he couldn't. The words wouldn't come. Instead, he felt himself shrinking, retreating into himself as he stood there, helpless and humiliated.

Finally, with a smug chuckle, Daniel tossed the book back at him, the pages fluttering as it landed at Wan's feet. "Try to keep it together, freak," he muttered, giving Wan a mock salute before walking away, leaving him to pick up the pieces.

Wan stared at the book on the floor, the humiliation settling heavy in his chest. He knelt down, gathering it up with trembling hands, his vision blurring as he forced back the hot prick of tears.

The hallway seemed to pulse around him, shadows lurking in the corners of his vision, and for a moment, he could almost hear the Architect's cold laughter—a dark, twisted echo of Daniel's taunts. He clenched his jaw, clutching the book to his chest as he pushed the sound away, forcing himself to his feet.

He wanted to run, to hide, to disappear. But the reality was inescapable: he was trapped in the Architect's nightmare, whether he was asleep or awake.

Lunch was no relief. Wan could feel the stares of other students, their eyes lingering on him longer than usual, as if he were some curiosity they couldn't look away from. He found a spot by himself in the cafeteria, shoulders hunched as he picked at his food, trying to keep his breathing steady, trying to drown out the memory of Daniel's words.

Just breathe, he reminded himself. Sofia said to hold onto what's real.

But his chest felt tight, his mind racing, the exhaustion of the nightmare blending into the reality of his school day. It felt as if everything was colliding, as though the walls between his waking world and the Architect's domain were dissolving.

He looked down at his hands, focusing on the rough texture of his knuckles, the feel of his fingers against his palms. But when he looked back up, he froze.

Across the cafeteria, standing just outside the doors, was the tall, shadowy figure from his nightmares—the Architect's silhouette, watching him with those hollow, glassy eyes. A shiver shot down his spine as he blinked, shaking his head, trying to clear his vision.

But when he looked again, the figure was gone.

Wan's heart pounded, the world around him blurring once more. He knew it wasn't real, that he was just exhausted, seeing things that weren't there.

But it felt real. Real enough to leave his hands trembling, his breath shaky as he gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady himself.

The rest of the day passed in a fog. Wan drifted from one class to another, half-hearing his teachers' lectures, tuning out the snickers and side glances from his classmates. By the final bell, he felt more like a ghost than a person, his mind a tangled mess of exhaustion, frustration, and fear.

He slipped out of class, heading down the emptying hallways as quickly as he could, eager to escape. He ignored the curious glances from his classmates, keeping his head down, his mind focused on the memory of Sofia's voice.

You're stronger than this, he told himself, forcing the words through his mind like a shield.

As he stepped outside, he felt a rush of relief, the cool afternoon air hitting him like a balm, clearing his thoughts just enough to make the world feel real again. He started down the sidewalk toward home, quickening his pace as though he could outrun the shadows that seemed to follow him from the corners of his vision.

But even as he walked, he felt it—the Architect's presence, lurking just beyond his sight, waiting. The shadows on the sidewalk stretched and twisted, flickering in and out like silent specters that only he could see.

By the time he reached his front door, his hands were shaking. He fumbled with his keys, finally managing to unlock it and slip inside, closing the door quietly behind him. The weight of the day settled over him like a dark cloud, the memory of Daniel's mocking laughter still echoing in his mind, tangled with the whispers and shadows from his nightmares.

He pushed himself up the stairs and into his room, locking the door behind him. The quiet felt like a relief, a brief escape from everything outside, but he knew it was temporary. He would have to face the Architect again tonight, and each night after, with no end in sight.

He sank down onto his bed, closing his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath. In the silence, he could almost hear Sofia's voice, a soft, steady presence in his mind.

"You're not alone, Wan. Hold onto what's real."

He clung to her words, letting them ground him, hoping they would be enough to carry him through the next nightmare—and whatever waited for him in the darkness.