The drive back to the academy was long and silent.
The tension from the trial still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.
Most of the students were too exhausted to speak, their bodies aching from battle, their minds reeling from what they had experienced.
Hope sat near the back of the transport, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.
He had been give a quick healing pills for his wounds, and it had worked incredibly fast.
His thoughts drifted.
Despite the brutal fights, no one had died.
A normal outcome, as there were instructors around.
Their presence had been an unspoken barrier between life and death.
Even the students who had been injured would recover.
Except one.
"Broad-wieldy."
That was what Hope had decided to call him.
The broad-sword wielder who had made a mistake—
And paid the price.
The deep wound on his side wasn't fatal, but it was bad enough that the academy's healers would be working on him for a while.
Hope tapped his fingers against his knee.
"Mistakes like that kill people."
That was why he always fought carefully—
Why he never relied on others.
Trusting someone else with his life?
That was gambling with death.
He exhaled, shaking his head.
The transport finally pulled up to the academy gates, the massive structure looming over them.
The students filed out one by one, sluggish and worn.
Hope followed at a steady pace, his sharp eyes scanning the campus.
It was late.
The sky was a deep shade of navy, the stars hidden behind thick clouds.
Even the ever-present hum of academy life had quieted for the night.
The students were ushered toward the dining hall, where a quick meal had been prepared.
The instructors didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
Everyone knew this was just the beginning.
Tomorrow, training would resume.
Tomorrow, more trials would come.
Tomorrow, the academy would push them harder.
Hope didn't care.
He just wanted food.
The moment Hope sat down, he ate.
And ate.
And ate.
He didn't rush—his movements were smooth and methodical—but the sheer amount of food he consumed was enough to turn heads.
At first, the other students didn't notice.
They were too drained to care.
But as the minutes passed, whispers began to spread.
"Is he seriously still eating?"
"Where the hell is he putting all that?"
"I thought he was just some scavenger, but… damn."
Hope ignored them.
He was used to this.
Ever since he had awakened, his body burned through energy at an absurd rate.
(Cough)
If he didn't eat more than normal, he'd end up weaker the next day.
So he ate.
The whispers continued, but no one dared to speak to him directly.
Eventually, one by one, the students finished their meals and left—
Dragging their exhausted bodies toward their dorms.
Hope swallowed his last bite, exhaled, and stood.
Time to sleep.
Hope didn't bother showering.
There was no strict rule about it, and he didn't care enough to make the effort.
Instead, he kicked off his boots, stretched his arms, and collapsed onto the bed.
His muscles throbbed from the earlier battle, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.
His eyes flickered closed.
His breathing slowed.
Sleep pulled him under.
And then—
The dream came.
Hope expected it.
He always expected it.
But this time…
It was different.
He stood in a vast, endless void.
A place of shifting shadows and creeping darkness.
In front of him—
A figure stood.
It was him.
An exact copy.
But something was wrong.
The figure's expression was twisted—
A smile stretched too wide across its face, its eyes filled with something Hope couldn't quite place.
Something unnatural.
Hope frowned.
"Who are you?"
His voice echoed in the emptiness.
The figure tilted its head, its smile widening.
"I'm you. Can't you see that?"
Hope scoffed.
"No. You can never be me."
His tone was firm, unwavering.
"You're probably just some soul-realm creature sent to disturb me."
The figure chuckled.
A low, eerie sound.
Then it spoke again—
"You'll understand in the future."
The words sent a strange chill down Hope's spine.
The figure turned away, its body seamlessly blending into the surrounding darkness.
As if it had never been there.
"I've decided to let you have a good sleep tonight."
And then—
It was gone.