Chapter 3 :

Altair looked in amazement at the blue window that had appeared before him. As he came out of his stupor, new information appeared on the page.

[The world of dreams is a strange and mysterious universe that takes place in the human mind while we sleep. In this universe, physical laws and the limits of reality do not exist, allowing for totally unpredictable and often fantastic experiences].

After he finished reading Altair wondered what that blue page was getting at.

[Dreams can be influenced by our emotions, our past experiences and our present concerns. They can be full of symbols and metaphors, sometimes giving us access to our subconscious and inner self.

However, although the world of dreams can seem magical and wonderful, it can also be frightening and terrifying. Nightmares can plunge us into frightening situations, often leaving us with negative emotions that linger long after we wake up].

"Thanks for the introduction, but what exactly am I doing here?" whispered Altair.

[You are a dream wizard. You can use people's dreams to become more powerful, gain the upper hand over your enemy, or other features you will discover later]

As he read the scrolling words, a wave of excitement passed through Altair's body.

Tell me how I can become more powerful!" he exclaimed

[...]

??????

Altair swore insults before remembering that he was not alone.

"Uncle, there is someone inside!"

"Ahaha the mansion is the most secure in the city how do you expect anyone to be in there?" laughed a more masculine voice.

[You are in Horace Trovetot's dreams]

So that's what he called himself. Altair could feel the rage rising in him, but he knew he shouldn't rush into anything. Who knows when he would have the chance to return to the dreams of his enemy.

He hid from crate to crate before exiting the warehouse behind the back of Horace and his uncle.

Altair was now in a long, spacious hallway. He would either run quickly through it or back into the warehouse.

[Ding...]

[First Activated Quest: Complete your revenge by killing Horace Trovetot in his dream to inflict severe psychological damage on him when he wakes up]

[Reward: Physical Restructuring]

[Failure : Death]

[Time remaining in the dream: '5:12:02']

Altair reread the consequence of the failure several times but it remained the same. His only option was to kill his enemy in his dream before the allotted time. Otherwise he would die like a miserable worm.

Altair didn't hesitate and ran across the hallway as fast as he could. He stopped just before the bend in the road and reached out for his ear.

"No one," he whispered.

He poked his head in to look and indeed no one was in sight.

Altair was cautious and even though he was not an expert assassin, no one noticed him despite the many servants passing by.

He climbed the stone stairs, praying that no one would come down at the same time, and finally arrived at a heavy wooden door with the name Horace written in gold letters.

Since Horace was in the warehouse, Altair knew that no one was inside, but he didn't take any chances and stuck his ear to the door.

Footsteps and female laughter coming from the bottom of the stairs startled Altair.

"Shit, I have no choice".

He hurriedly opened the door and closed it immediately.

[Time remaining: '4:25:45']

Altair looked around the large room.

Spacious, comfortable and sumptuously decorated, anyone on Earth would have wanted a similar room.

A dagger with a strange purple stone that glowed faintly was lying on a wooden dresser.

He took it before hiding in the laundry room.

"I hope he comes back to his room before time runs out or I'm dead. I can't afford to go out and look for him everywhere."

Altair waited a long time.

[Time remaining: '00: 08: 23']

"Only eight minutes left before the end. What the hell is that idiot doing?"

Finally after two more minutes that seemed like an eternity to Altair, Horace opened the door to his room.

Horace sighed with fatigue as he removed his clothes and headed straight for Altair's hiding place: the laundry room.

Altair tightened his grip on the handle of the dagger, sweat running down his forehead. This was going to be his first kill and his state of mind was unstable.

Horace opened the door to his laundry room and Altair raised his arm half a second later.

The dagger sank into his chest without any resistance as poor Horace watched his life slip away in horror.

He collapsed to the ground as his blood spilled out onto the floor, staining the fine rugs and the ground.

Altair looked at his bloodstained hands in horror. He felt the bile rise in his throat and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"What have I done?"

[To kill or be killed, that is the host question]

Flashbacks of Horace and his group having fun bombarding him with fireballs to burn him up, out of sheer pleasure, out of pure sadism.

Altaïr's eyes burned with hatred again.

"You are right, kindness is a weakness.

The whole mansion began to shake, the walls broke apart and cracks spread.

[The creator of the dream is dead].

[Back to reality]

A black flash swallowed Altair.