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Shadow Slave | Sleepless Dreamer

Set in the Shadow Slave world...a time before Sunny was born...this story follows a simple soldier who must survive in a dystopian, apocalyptic landscape where magic and gun warfare collide. In a far-off Quadrant known as North America, a young soldier named Hope is 16 years old when he gets infected by the Nightmare Spell. He passed! But...he feels a bit scammed...? A flaw that makes him fade from people's memories... A cursed attribute that makes him remember everything endlessly in eternal wakefulness... It's as if the Spell is twisting his future and existence into an almost improbable one. All he has ever known his purpose to be was to serve as a simple soldier. Not too powerful. But not so weak either. And maybe, just maybe like some others, become an Awakened. Although he never dreamt of being one. Now that his whole life is compromised after his First Nightmare, his first objective is to survive on his own. But as he tries to escape his fate, his actions seem to lead him further from his goal. He struggles against obstacles that slowly grow bigger and out of proportion. Maybe the Dream Realm and the Real World aren't so different than one may think. Hope's journey involves uncovering secrets and gaining knowledge about his true nature and his new role in the world. Is he fit to be a hero? Could he redefine it? *** Please read the READER DISCLAIMER in Volume 0. This is my spin-off novel of "Shadow Slave" by Guiltythree. But please don't expect the same writing style, setting, and characters, especially the main character. This story reveals more about how people/cities/governments operate after the Spell’s arrival. I always find it interesting how maybe one country handles it fairly, but how others handle it with desperation to the point that you question humanity. There will be easter eggs pointing to the original novel either intentional for the plot or unrelated to it, but all for fun. I am a new author so props to all who bear with me and helps me improve my writing. If it is not for you, please don't leave outright hate comments. Eat wassabi instead if you want pain. Critique and advice would be great too. Cover Art: @ellieaedon I will be posting on RoyalRoad.com and on AO3 for some people's preferences.

MonoSilence · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
77 Chs

In the Company of Wolves (3)

"Name."

"M-Marcus!"

"And you?"

"G..gr..e..g.."

Hope blinked at their response.

He then backed away six steps before kneeling next to one of the dead bodies, his tall shadow trailing behind him. The flashlight he had first thrown as a distraction was still on, lighting the dark floor with a bright yellow mist.

"Sector?"

Marcus, their group leader, perked up. "Sector One! Sector One!"

"Mm..."

He wrenched the spear blade out of the head. 

"Tell me." He wiped the blood on his right leg. "What other known 'friendly' settlements are there?"

Marcus gritted his teeth.

"I-I don't know. Pfft. Are there any fucking saints left in this damn-"

The man stopped.

Hope wasn't entirely sure why, but when they met each other's gazes, all words slipped from Marcus' mouth. He regrettably looked away and continued cradling his injured hand where the black shard still impaled.

Greg, finally recovering from the blow Hope pummeled earlier, knelt on all fours. His face a ghastly white with sunken eyes.

Hope gestured him with the rifle. "You. Why are there no guards at the front gate?"

Greg licked his lips, hand hugging his chest as he cleared his throat. "Those guards haven't been there for nearly a month..."

Hope paused.

"What do you mean?"

Hope usually had taken a route through the Mirror City when transporting convoys. Although, the last time he had gone through that route was almost a month and a half ago. He assumed more or less that they didn't need him anymore for the side job.

But what happened after that?

"Cough!"

Greg pulled himself to a sitting position as Hope waited for his response.

"A fucking monster gate appeared. That's why. Whole damn city went loose. All the guards were called to the city's center and not much was heard then-"

"Did a convoy pass through here?"

"...What...?"

Hope aimed the gun's barrel at his head. "A convoy. Two nights ago. Who let them in?"

Greg sneered.

"Maybe? I don't fucking know." He glared at Hope. "Look, boy, this is fucking no man's land now. Every man to himself. No more damn government. No draft. No power but the people who make it."

'Monster gate. Huh...'

Hope frowned as he folded the knife and put it in his chest rig.

Some cities were able to quarantine themselves effectively when the Nightmare Spell first arrived and maintain a level of infrastructure and security. Albeit that took the country many years for that resolve. With the east coast's constant sunken peril to the seas, people continuously had to move from settlement to settlement.

Eventually, the government pulled their focus on specific cities with the utmost care. There were times when a monster gate would break through those peaceful homes, but they always handled it readily.

But what did that mean for people who weren't as lucky to be behind such walls?

Or the right ones anyway.

Some cities, towns, regions became hotbeds of infection and chaos. How the government dealt with them was not his business.

But it seemed a bit of his business with this particular city. Especially if it placed his own teammates in danger. How the hell was the government handling this? 

Hope's eyes bounced between both Greg and Marcus, then the environment of the room; fallen chairs and round tables, a lengthened limb counter stretched out from the far wall. A sign with a weird cup with swirls spiraled out and decorated over a mechanic machinery with what seemed to be soil inside.

What a strange room this was.

But of course, the most out of place thing in this room were the vines.

It was like veins that crawled through the cracks and spread out on the ceiling and floors; some wrist thick ones strangled the legs of the chairs. Another cross of nature and man's creation distastefully mixed in this city.

"Open your eyes, boy! Anything's for the taking!"

Hope sighed as he stood up.

It became a sort of tale amongst the army about how three Masters 'heroically' saved the Mirror City from a Fallen Titan. They could contain it, but it seemed that destroying the monster itself proved a problem. Within that timeframe, it released a colossal nature throughout the city.

Maybe remnants of its aura still scared off any monsters outside the walls, but the damage remained, and instead of assisting the slum civilians, the government sent small troops and did little when people were infected with the Spell. Some luckily became Awakened, but life was even more difficult without the proper sleeping pods.

But the story of the three Masters, a motivation speech of some sorts, encouraged mundane humans and Awakened alike that any monster was possible to overcome with the right prowess and battle tactic.

Hope strode towards the two men, the foggy mist parting at his feet. 

[You have slain a dormant human...]

Hope paused in front of the so-called leader.

'Ah.'

Hope turned his head slightly and looked at one of the dead bodies behind him. The one person whom Hope struck their face in with his shield, who was only knocked out at first, was dead. He supposed he had more strength behind his blow than he thought.

Hope looked away.

Not that he was planning on holding back anyway.

"Your uniform." Greg chuckled. "Ha! You a soldier?"

'Obviously.' Hope thought.

Despite their disadvantageous position, even Marcus audaciously made a smirky expression. Although, his shaky limbs spoke otherwise.

"Aren't you too young to be playing soldier?" Marcus began to taunt. "Did you strip that off from one of those fucking corpses-"

In one fluid motion, Hope inverted his grip on the rifle and thrusted it against Greg's head.

His head snapped back, and he collapsed onto the floor.

Marcus' eyes widened at the action and his body went rigid. He tried to remain motionless, as if somehow hoping his stillness would make him go unnoticed.

But Hope knelt in front of him meeting eye to eye with the pitiful man.

"Let's try this again."

Hope reached forward and pulled the black shard out of his hand.

"A-aaaack!!"

Marcus shot back and slammed into one of the fallen tables. He hugged his injured hand, gazing at the opened gash in which one could see directly through it.

"Shut up."

"...!"

Marcus looked up; his body tensed expecting to find Hope striding forwards again.

But all he saw was Hope kneeling where he was. Not showing the slightest interest in moving from his spot.

Even from that distance, Marcus obeyed his command.

Smart guy.

Hope didn't have to do any tactics then.

"So. We're in Sector One's territory?"

"Y-yes!"

Hope paused.

He had walked ten minutes down the wall's border. But how much distance did he cover when he went through the tunnels?

"You a small group?"

"A-ah I-I...W-well."

"Yes or no?"

"It depends ok!?" Marcus said through his teeth.

'Terrible answer.' Hope sighed.

"How so? Must be a lot if you have 'rules' for your sector."

"Yeah so? Every goddamn settlement has one. We get by what we can with who we have. It's annoying enough that we have to deal with the old, the sick, the young-"

Marcus froze as Hope nonchalantly started to spin the black shard on his hand.

"So. A big group then. Let me assume that you-" Hope pointed at him. "And your men-" He gestured to the bodies around him. "-play the role of 'necessary evil.' Right?"

The pitiful man looked away.

"Huh." Hope casually placed the black shard away in his back pocket.

Hope didn't necessarily feel inclined to punish this man. It was natural for anyone to be pushed on the brink of survival to use extreme counter measures. Not that it was justified. But Hope could see why this man would result to such things even if it went behind the public eye.

But maybe he and his men made it hard enough for the boy and his father to the point of them committing desertion.

"..."

That wasn't his main focus though. Nor his problem.

"Which closest settlement has the highest lookout?"

"...?"

Marcus licked his lips nervously as he tried to find the answer lost in the crannies of his thought.

"Uh if you mean the closest one...then Sector Two. We were adjoined together but...well again. Our rules were different..."

"What building, and how do you get in?"

Marcus gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter. You can't get inside."

Hope frowned. "How so?"

"Its blocked!" He snapped. "Some stupid flowers that some Awakened had grown borders their settlement."

Hope sighed, got up, and walked towards the flashlight.

"And how special are these 'stupid flowers'?"

"I-I don't know! I hear stories that people fucking sleep, die or whatever if they get near it!"

As Hope picked up the flashlight, he paused. He turned to Marcus and saw him flinch.

"People sleep if they get near it?"

For some reason, Marcus scooted further away into the darkness. Not that there was any escape or any weapons that he could use. Even if there were any, he didn't seem smart enough to use it.

"Yes..."

Hope faced the flashlight at him.

The pitiful man with his blood-stained nose and injured hand shrank even more from the light. His eyes darted between Hope and the room's darkness as if trying to find comfort to spare himself from the gaze.

Hope blinked.

He didn't seem to be lying.

He would have negotiated for some food or water as the man had offered earlier.

But...

'How does my Flaw work?'

As he recalled that thought, an image of him first reading it flashed before his eyes. A moment later, the runes itself formed in front of him.

Flaw: [Distant Memory]

Flaw Description: [Memories of you are transient.]

"..."

Hope sighed and waved his hand through the runes to dismiss them.

'Yeah yeah. You don't have to remind me dammit-'

!!!

Klang- klang klng-

Hope tossed aside the rifle gun, its mechanic body clanking against the floor.

He ignored the puzzled expression from the man as he rubbed his face, his mind battling down as other images tried to resurface.

"Sigh..."

He peered through his fingers to stare back at the shrunken figure.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"...!"

"How do I get there?"

Marcus gritted his teeth and looked down at his feet.

"It's some library...With a...glass dome..."

"Hmm..." Hope dropped his hand from his face. "When you said different rules, does that mean they're more lenient?"

"A fucking zoo is what it's like."

A zoo?

"Elaborate."

"Yes! Acting like some fucking saints. I bet they had to result to the samething as we did! You could barely get by with food for that many people."

Hope blinked at that response.

This seemed...

...a little fortunate.

And he may have just the right ticket to get him in.

Hope thought that as he eyed the shadowed corner where the boy still laid. He almost had considered on abandoning him.

"I-is that all? Are you going to let me go now?"

Hope's eye flitted back to the man.

"..."

Step. Step. Step.

As he carried the light, blinding the man's eyes from his approach, Hope wondered what would happen if he let the man live. Would he remember this whole interaction? Would he be able to give an accurate report back to his settlement's leader?

Hope crouched in front of him.

Maybe one survivor was enough to send a message. How they interpret this scene was up to them. It could be an exercise of some sorts for their minds.

"One more question. And it involves you."

Marcus squirmed from the closeness, eyes squinting against the light as he awaited his next words.

"Do you trust your men?"

He gulped. "Y-yes...?"

Hope tilted his head. "You don't seem too distraught about all the blood that has been spilt."

A nervous laugh was forced in response. "Hahaha...T-they just work for me. Nothing personal. Y'know?"

Maybe this man wasn't in fear because of the death of his comrades, but of the possibility that he would end up just the same. So far, he seemed honest with his answers with no visible attachments to this world except for power and survival.

But that primary fear.

Hope could turn that into reality.

One survivor was enough.

It seemed that Marcus saw something shift on Hope's face, because he acted out in that next moment. He immediately pulled back and thrashed his arms out like a desperate animal that had been caught in a web, knocking the flashlight out of Hope's hand in the process.

There was no need to rush though.

Hope nonchalantly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Naturally, Marcus tried to wrench his arm free, but his eyes and his strength dulled. Horror and daze flickered across his face as he tried to fight off not only the physical restraint, but the intrusive slumbering spell that was plaguing his body and mind.

After about five seconds, his eyes closed, his body then tilted and dropped to the floor with a thud.

Hope scanned the pitiful man's face for a few seconds, observing the consequence of his power that he forced upon. Although he was asleep, his face relaxed like all the other dead bodies behind him. Maybe death and sleep really weren't that much different.

Hope nonchalantly reached over for his flashlight and turned it off.

Darkness blinded him for an instant. But then shadowed formations started to appear, and the grey blue fog through the crumbled wall's entrance started to present itself lighter.

Hope paused as he listened again for any threatening noise. After a couple of minutes, he pulled out his black shard again, then angled it on the man called Marcus' neck.

Only one man was enough to survive.

That didn't mean it had to be him though.

***

'He's lighter than I thought.'

Hope carried the boy on his back as he walked up the stairs of another building, carefully stepping one foot in front of the other in a methodic march. It wasn't too difficult walking in the dark as he recalled the precise distance and proper move to take.

Earlier, he left the place with the group of men as he carefully traveled down the street. He had waited a little while to make sure that the man called 'Greg' didn't die from the blow to his head.

After confirming that the Spell wasn't going to announce his achievement, Hope found the boy and exited the area to find some proper higher ground.

Well, not before after stripping one of the dead men's bodies for a new pair of clothes.

Hope was dressed in dark gray cargo pants, a black sweater, and a new pair of black boots. He also placed back on his military's chest rig. It was still high quality, although it has seen better days, and it had more pockets.

Hope adjusted the boy on his back, in which a rifle was strapped across his shoulder as well.

Maybe one day he would soon have a Memory garment to use.

Rrrrrrrr...

Hope opened the door to the roof and settled the boy against the door frame before exiting.

He walked over towards the ledge to view the cityscape. But of course, it was still night, and the fog hadn't cleared yet.

Hope frowned as he stared at its gray misty wall. Strange. He could tell the area was lit by the moon and yet it was still dark. 

It reminded him the night of the convoy attack. When dense fog reduced visibility which proved to be a challenge for them against the horde. It almost seemed impossible to survive, but they persevered, didn't they?

But what about now?

Were the rest alright?

"Sigh..."

He was still their team leader. Forgotten or not. It was his responsibility to take care of them. Everyone else came in second. Or maybe honestly even at bottom.

But what that man said about a monster gate appearing a month ago...

Hope leaned against the ledge and stood in silence.

The voices accompanied him, but then rose as he recalled the image of the monster gate a few nights ago.

Like a spatial wound he remembered...How it split through existence itself to expel the monsters within into the waking world without any regard-

!!!

'Team leader!'

'BOOM!'

'Kieeeeeeeek!'

'Aaaaaaaaagh!'

'H-Help us! Please-

Hope slammed his fist against the stone ledge.

'Shut up. Shut. Up.'

Explosion continued to resound in his ears. It was such a clear noise. As if he was pressed up against it to hear the metals being torn and the hot breath of fire and the screeching of tires. The battle cries of the profaned beasts and the dying screams of his fellow soldiers intruded along in his mind into one big buzzing noise. He then started to faintly feel the shakes in his body as if the ground was rocking from his feet just like-

Slam!

Hope pounded his bare fist into the ledge again.

A sharp bite split through his knuckles, bringing his mind back to the present.

He glanced down and saw blood trickling down.

He opened his palm and saw the scabbed blisters on his fingertips from the previous night.

And tonight was going to be another long night...

Was that how his future was going to be from now on? A battle with his own mind?

His jaw started to ache as he recalled the words from the damn cursed attribute:

"'...no rest, no escape from your relentless march of time and thought....'"

An empty coldness filled him at that moment as he stared blankly over the ledge into the fog that blanketed the streets. The lines of those Attribute runes floating faintly across his vision as if taunting him. But through them he could see vines that trailed up along the building he was on, greedily grabbing hold of the structure in its dark embrace.

He remembered when passing through the city nature was at its thickest at the city center.

But the men had mentioned another gate appearing in that exact location. Do gates usually reappear in the same spot?

Was there someone now trying to defeat that Nightmare?

"Mm...more questions dammit.'

The cold air which was a threatening element the previous night was now becoming a convenient distraction. It was another factor that helped somewhat to keep him in the present. If not successfully, then of course pain was the option.

Hope turned and walked away back towards the door where the boy rested.

Hope wasn't sure how long his power took into effect, but if the boy woke up, then...he'd have to knock him out again.

With his powers of course, not a blow to the head.

Hope closed the door behind him and the blowing cold air stilled. As he sat across from the boy on top of the stairs, he couldn't help but think about the boy's age. He couldn't help but think that he was almost the same age his sister.

Did his sister make new friends?

Was she able to get along with the others just fine?

Hope let out another sigh as he rested his head against the wall, fighting off the forced images of his sister that crossed even behind his eyelids. 

Hope wished he knew. He practically didn't know much about her anymore.

But maybe her was life better. Maybe she was surrounded by lots of people who tend to her with the utmost care from the government. Maybe she had better food delivered to her. Maybe she had schedules to follow and homework to do. Maybe she even had a spacious room to rest in with ceilings so high and walls so far a part that it could fit a hundred people.

That sounded all plausible.

She was an Awakened after all.

And Awakened lived luxuriously.