I dreamt we were side by side again, speaking without walls between us. I woke to a world where your voice could no longer reach me.
My eyes flickered open to the same ceiling I saw every morning.
A yawn escaped before I could stop it.
Another day, rinse, repeat, recycle.
The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator somewhere beyond my room.
Pale morning light slipped through half-drawn curtains, painting thin bars across posters that had begun to curl at the edges and furniture that hadn't moved in years.
Even the air felt old, stale with routine, heavy with the certainty that nothing would change unless I forced it to.
People called me a genius.
I stared at the clutter, the dust, the frozen stillness of my own life, and felt something sharp twist in my chest.
If this was what brilliance looked like, I must've been a terrible case study.
I swung my legs over the bed and let my feet rest against the cold floor. For a moment, I just sat there, staring at nothing, mind drifting where it always drifted when my guard fell.
And there it was.
Lucius.
His voice, bright, careless, alive, echoed as if he'd spoken from the other side of the door.
"Come on, Kaiser! You're wasting daylight. Let's go!"
He'd always say it with that dumb grin, already halfway out the room, dragging me toward some wild scheme I never asked for. Somehow, I always followed anyway.
Mornings hadn't felt so heavy back then. With him around, everything had felt… possible.
I ran a hand through my hair, a bitter smile tugging at my mouth.
I didn't just miss him.
I missed how he made me feel, like I wasn't meant to endure life alone.
I stood, bones stiff from disuse, and the room seemed to tighten around me like a cage. But Lucius stayed in the open space of my memory. Not a ghost. Not a dream. Just… unshakable.
The only thing left was to get ready for the Association, clothes, belongings, notes, journals, papers, the checklist I'd made because if I didn't control something, anything, the day would swallow me whole.
I took one step—
And everything shattered.
The quiet cracked like glass, replaced by a rush of sound so sudden it stole my breath. Noise and motion slammed into me from all sides.
I blinked once.
Twice.
My room was gone.
I stood in the middle of a crowd inside a massive auditorium. Voices buzzed, excited, nervous, loud in the way only a room full of teenagers could be loud. Above us, a dome-shaped ceiling glowed with holograms that swirled like living constellations, so detailed they seemed unreal.
"I can't wait to begin my studies at this academy!"
"If I pass initiation, I'll become a top Huntsman!"
That word snagged in my mind like a hook.
Huntsman.
Recognition flared, unwanted, immediate.
"Huntsman?" I repeated under my breath, as if saying it aloud would make it make sense. My stomach dropped. "Why does that—"
My thoughts stuttered as the crowd began to settle, not because of an announcement over the speakers or a flashing light, but because of a sound so simple and commanding that it cut through everything.
A cane tapping the stage.
Footsteps followed, measured, deliberate.
My pulse quickened.
A figure climbed the steps and stood at the front: a middle-aged man with sharp features, greying hair, a crisp suit, and glasses that caught the light as he scanned the audience, as if he already knew what each of us would become.
Ozpin.
The name hit like a punch.
For a second, I couldn't breathe.
No. That couldn't be real.
My mind dragged up memories I hadn't touched in years, late nights and stolen time, homework ignored, the glow of a screen in a dark room while Lucius sprawled on my bed like he owned it.
"Hey, Kaiser! Want to watch this show with me?" he'd said once, already hitting play. "It's called RWBY."
"We should be studying for our exams," I'd replied, even as I shifted to make room.
He'd laughed. "Oh, come on, you're no fun. Is it always about studying with you? No wonder I'm your only friend."
I'd scoffed. "Guess who scored lower than I did on the last exam? Fine. I'll entertain you."
Lucius had grinned like he'd won a prize and thrown an arm around my shoulders. "I promise I won't disappoint you."
I had rolled my eyes, but I'd watched every episode with him after that. Not because the show was perfect.
Because he was there.
Now Ozpin's gaze swept the room, and something cold crept up my spine.
His voice carried through the auditorium, calm, precise, and heavy with expectation. He spoke about purpose, direction, and the difference between having knowledge and knowing what to do with it. Each sentence felt like it was meant to land somewhere deep inside you and stay there.
Headmaster Ozpin.
When he stepped away, a woman with a stern posture and sharper presence took his place, Glynda Goodwitch. She delivered instructions crisply: gather tonight, initiation tomorrow, be ready.
The crowd broke into movement the moment she dismissed us.
And I stood there like my feet had forgotten how to follow.
"It's just a dream," I whispered. My throat felt dry. The words were supposed to reassure me, but they didn't fit. The air didn't accept them.
Because this didn't feel like a dream.
It felt too solid, every sound too clear, every light too bright, every body brushing past me too real. Reality had weight, and this place had it in spades.
My heart hammered as the puzzle pieces shifted and locked into a shape I didn't want to see.
No.
No, no, no.
I yanked my phone out of my pocket, desperate for something familiar—one solid object from my world, something that proved I hadn't lost my mind.
The moment I looked at it, my chest hollowed out.
It wasn't my phone.
A sleek, holographic display shimmered under my thumb, the interface too advanced and too wrong for anything back on Earth.
A Scroll.
Like the ones from the show.
My breath hitched. Heat crawled up my neck as panic surged.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it—
I shoved my hands into my pockets, searching for my wallet, my ID, anything. My fingers closed around a smooth plastic card stamped with a symbol my brain recognized faster than my heart could handle.
Lien.
Aren't you supposed to wake up when you realize you're dreaming?
The fact that I wasn't waking up, couldn't wake up, wrapped a gnawing fear around my ribs and squeezed.
If this wasn't a dream, then what was it?
A miracle?
No. Miracles brought hope. They didn't drag you out of your life and drop you into someone else's world like a cruel joke.
This felt like a curse with polite packaging.
My teeth found the skin beside my thumb before I even noticed. I bit down hard, trying to ground myself, trying to make my thoughts stop ricocheting.
My entire identity, everything I'd built, everything I'd sacrificed to become the person people praised, had vanished in an instant.
What was it all for if it could be erased so easily?
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the swelling despair.
Lucius's voice surfaced again, not dramatic, not poetic, just steady in the way he always was when my head got too loud.
"Kaiser," he'd said once, leaning on my desk like the world was simple, "you're always so hard on yourself. You focus so much on being perfect, outsmarting everyone, that you forget it's okay to just… be human sometimes."
He'd been wrong about a lot of things.
But not that.
Lucius was different from me in almost every way. Where I demanded excellence, he offered forgiveness. Where I saw life as a problem to solve, he treated it like an adventure worth living, even if you didn't know the ending.
He'd shaped me more than I wanted to admit.
And now he was gone, and I was here.
I forced a slow exhale and opened my eyes.
The crowd had thinned, funneling toward wide doors that led deeper into the academy. The chatter blended into an incoherent hum, and for a second, it almost sounded like waves.
A gentle tap on my shoulder snapped me back.
I turned.
A boy with golden hair and sky-blue eyes looked at me with open concern.
Jaune Arc.
Of course, it had to be him.
"You okay?" he asked.
My mouth opened. Nothing sensible came out. "I… yeah. I think so."
He didn't buy it. His eyes flicked down toward my hand. "Uh—your thumb. You're bleeding."
Only then did the sting register. A bead of blood welled where I'd chewed the skin raw.
I jerked my hand back, embarrassed.
Jaune dug into his pocket and produced a small bandage like he'd done this a hundred times, like he walked around prepared to patch up other people's problems.
"Here," he said, holding it out. "Nothing's worth beating yourself up over."
Hesitating, I took it. My fingers shook just enough to annoy me.
"Thanks," I muttered. "I didn't even notice."
"It happens," he said with a soft chuckle. "Nerves, right?"
Something about the way he said it, gentle, automatic kindness, hit a place I hadn't expected.
"You know, Kaiser," Lucius had once said, leaning over my shoulder while I worked, "you've really got to stop gnawing on your fingers. It's creepy."
I'd scowled. "Why haven't you done anything about it, then?"
He'd ruffled my hair. "I am. I'm saying something. You're welcome."
The memory faded like a breath on glass.
Jaune tilted his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you bite your fingers when you're stressed?"
My body went still.
The words were too close. The timing is too cruel.
"…I suppose you do pay attention, Lucius," I muttered before I could stop myself.
Jaune blinked. "Lucius? Uh. No. I'm Jaune." He gave a nervous little grin, as if trying to turn it into a joke. "But… should I take that as a compliment?"
Heat prickled at my ears. "Sorry. You reminded me of someone I used to know."
"No worries," he said easily. "I just… can't really walk away when someone looks like they're having a rough time. Physically or otherwise."
That landed harder than it should've.
He straightened and offered his hand, as if we were normal people meeting in a normal place.
"Well, proper introduction," he said. "I'm Jaune Arc. And you are?"
I swallowed. "Kaiser. Kaiser Ingenium."
"Nice to meet you, Kaiser." He smiled again, genuinely, effortlessly. "Hope we talk again. And hey, good luck with initiation. I have a feeling you'll do great."
He turned to leave, then stopped so abruptly he nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Oh! Wait—" Panic flashed across his face. "I forgot something!"
And then he jogged into the crowd, muttering to himself about gear and pajamas and being doomed.
I watched him disappear, a strange ache pressing behind my sternum.
He wasn't Lucius.
But for a moment, it felt like he could've been.
I wrapped the bandage around my thumb, breathing through the lingering tremor in my hands.
This wasn't a dream.
It wasn't a miracle.
It wasn't even a neat, clean curse with rules I could study and solve.
It was my reality now, whatever that meant.
Ozpin's words echoed in my head, sharpened by the way they'd looked right through me: knowledge wasn't enough. You needed purpose. Direction. A reason to take the next step.
Lucius would've stepped forward without hesitation. He always met challenges like they were invitations.
I wasn't like him.
I was unsure. Stuck. Maybe even scared.
But watching students move with shaky confidence toward the ballroom stirred something in me, envy, yes, but also a faint spark of refusal.
I didn't want to rot. Not here. Not anywhere.
I followed the crowd.
---
The ballroom was grand in a way that felt almost unreal—polished floors, tall windows, chandeliers that glittered with warm light. The space had been converted into a temporary sleeping area, with neat lines of sleeping bags spread across the room, as if someone wanted to impose order on chaos.
This was where the journey began.
I found an empty spot and dropped onto a sleeping bag, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My mind was still sprinting, but my body begged for rest, dragging me toward the thin comfort of exhaustion.
Maybe if I slept, I'd wake up.
Maybe—
Movement caught my attention.
I glanced over and saw them.
Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long.
The main characters.
Real.
Talking.
Breathing.
Not behind a screen. Not framed by a soundtrack.
My stomach flipped.
They were focused on their own conversation, the kind that comes from being new and trying to be brave about it. But Ruby's voice carried, soft, earnest, full of the stubborn hope that made her who she was.
"As a kid," Ruby was saying, "I wanted to be like the heroes in the stories. Fighting for what's right. Protecting people who couldn't protect themselves."
Hearing it in person did something strange to me. On a screen, it had been inspiring.
Here, it was… vulnerable.
It reminded me of late nights with Lucius, popcorn, commentary, him getting too invested in every fight, cheering at the dumbest moments like it mattered.
A laugh slipped out before I could catch it.
Not loud.
But loud enough.
Yang's head turned first.
She didn't storm over, she walked with easy confidence, hands in her jacket pockets, eyes sharp with curiosity rather than anger.
"Something funny?" she asked, one brow lifting.
Her tone was casual. Light.
But deliberate.
I straightened slightly. "No. I wasn't laughing at you."
"Sounded like it." She tilted her head, studying me. "Because if you were laughing at my sister, we'd have a problem."
Ruby blinked. "Yang—"
Yang held up a hand, still watching me. "Relax. I'm just checking."
There it was.
Protective. Measured.
She stepped closer, not invading, but close enough to test my reaction. Her fingers brushed the chain at my neck, catching the amethyst pendant between two knuckles.
"Nice necklace," she said lightly. "Looks important."
It was an offhand gesture.
Careless.
Unaware.
My hand moved before I thought about it, closing around her wrist, not hard, but firm enough to stop her.
"Please don't," I said quietly.
The shift was immediate.
Yang's teasing edge faded. Her gaze flicked from my hand to my face, reassessing.
"…Okay," she said, slower now. "Didn't mean to."
I released her at once. "I know."
There was a brief silence.
"You weren't laughing at Ruby?" she asked again, softer.
"No." My fingers curled around the pendant instead. "I was remembering someone."
That answer lingered.
Yang leaned back, giving space. "Got it."
"Must we establish tension before initiation has even begun?" Weiss's voice cut in, crisp and unimpressed.
She approached with arms crossed, posture immaculate.
Yang rolled her eyes. "I was being diplomatic."
"That," Weiss replied flatly, "is not diplomacy."
Ruby stepped forward quickly, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry! First day nerves and all."
"It's fine," I said.
And I meant it.
Yang studied me one last time, curiosity replacing suspicion. "No hard feelings then. Just don't laugh at my sister."
"I wouldn't."
Something in my tone must've convinced her. She nodded once and turned away, the moment dismissed as easily as it had started.
But not everyone had dismissed it.
Blake hadn't moved.
She hadn't spoken.
She hadn't even looked directly at me during the exchange.
Yet I could feel it.
Her gaze.
Quiet. Analytical.
Not suspicious.
Observant.
When the others settled back into their conversation, Blake's golden eyes flicked toward me briefly, just a glance, gone as quickly as it came.
Most people would've missed it.
But there was something in that look.
Not about the necklace.
Not about Yang.
About me.
The timing.
The restraint.
The way I'd said, remembering someone.
Blake turned a page in her book.
But she didn't start reading again.
And when Ruby laughed at something Yang whispered, Blake's attention shifted, not to them but back to me.
Like she was trying to solve a question she hadn't asked out loud yet.
When the room settled back into quiet, I lay down and stared up at the ornate ceiling, watching the chandelier light shimmer like stars in a sky that wasn't mine.
That thought stuck.
Was this my world now?
Not the one I'd built.
Not the one I'd sacrificed everything for.
And yet here I was, breathing air too real to dismiss, surrounded by people who were supposed to be fiction but reacted to me in ways no script could predict.
I'd thought knowing their story would make this simple.
That I could map it out, follow the timeline, and keep myself safe.
But reality didn't care what I remembered from a show.
Reality changed when you touched it.
I brought my hand up and gently curled my fingers around the amethyst pendant at my throat.
"If this is my world now," I whispered into the stillness, "then what am I supposed to do with it?"
No answer came, only the hush of sleeping breaths, the faint creak of the building settling, and the heavy truth that tomorrow would change everything again.
I had choices, even if I didn't understand why I was here.
Do I chase the truth?
Or do I make this life mine?
For the first time since the world cracked open and swallowed me whole, something stirred in my chest, small and fragile, but undeniably real.
Hope.
---
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the chapter, comments and feedback are always appreciated—they seriously help me improve and keep going.