The city was silent in a way it had never been before.
Riku Kurobane stood at the edge of the overpass, watching the sky ripple like water.
It began with a hum. Low. Trembling.
Then the world tilted. People around him froze mid-step, their bodies convulsing, eyes rolling back.
Cars veered off roads. Neon lights flickered and popped.
But Riku remained standing—untouched, as if he were outside time itself.
And then the sky shattered.
Not metaphorically—cracks spread through the firmament like broken glass.
From them spilled not stars, but eyes. Endless, blinking, watching.
Riku gasped—then fell backward into darkness.
He landed in a field of golden lotuses, the air humming with ancient power.
Above, the sky was half-night, half-dawn, with constellations he'd never seen.
A monkey sat on a stone nearby, smirking.
"You finally fell asleep properly," it said, scratching its ear.
"Where… am I?" Riku asked.
"Welcome to Eidara, dreamwalker. The gods have been waiting."
Before Riku could speak again, the flowers trembled. A roar echoed from the horizon
The monkey stood up, tail curling like a whip.
"Time for your trial, boy. If you survive, maybe Sun Wukong will smile upon you."
The world shifted
The lotuses withered. Trees burst from the ground.
Suddenly, Riku was running through an impossible jungle—the Vermilion Wilds—with illusions warping around him.
He was chased by laughter, by shadows that looked like himself.
Every step, the ground changed: stone to sand, vines to snakes.
Atop a twisted tree, a golden figure laughed.
Sun Wukong. The Monkey King.
"Catch me, little dreamer, and the staff is yours!"
Riku didn't hesitate. He leapt, climbed, and fell again and again.
But he never gave up.
After what felt like hours, he tricked Wukong into falling for his own illusion—a mirror image with Riku's voice.
The monkey burst into laughter, clapping.
"Not bad! Clever monkey, you are."
Wukong spun in the air and pointed a finger.
From it, a cloud burst into smoke and became a staff, floating before Riku.
"Take it. The Somnus Staff. It's bound to your will—and your dreams."
Riku grasped it. Energy surged into him like lightning.
He woke up screaming.
The city was in ruins. Bodies lay still, twitching in sleep.
A man in a black coat approached, flanked by soldiers.
"He's awake. The Dreambound survived the quake."
"Bring him in," the agent ordered.
"We need to dissect what kind of god gave him power."
Riku stood, staff in hand.
This was no dream anymore.