The cold stone beneath him was what woke V up.
He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a rocky ledge at the edge of an island.
Jagged cliffs of dark gray stone rose around him, damp with sea spray, worn down into twisted shapes like the teeth of some ancient sea beast. The water below wasn't clear blue—it had deepened into a heavy, dark indigo. Each wave crashing against the rocks let out a dull, hollow boom.
Far in the distance, a small domed building stood alone against the wind.
The pale gold on its roof had long since faded, stained with dark patches like smoke had licked across it for years. Narrow steps led down toward the water's edge, steep and slick with dark green moss. One wrong step, and the ocean would swallow you whole.
There were no voices.
No torches.
Only the wind whistling through open corridors and the steady drip of water falling from the cliffs into the deep sea.
He was lying right at the line between stone and water—
Yet his clothes were completely dry.
V blinked a few times.
Then, out of habit, he reached for his shoulder.
Nothing.
No sharp pain. No torn flesh. No temporary bandages he clearly remembered being wrapped around him.
His shoulder moved smoothly—too smoothly. The ease of it made him doubt what was real.
He looked down at his leg.
His left leg—the one that had dragged his full weight through the collapsed storage room—was perfectly fine.
No numbness. No dull ache. No trace that it had ever been injured.
"That's impossible…"
He pushed himself up. Then stood.
His body felt lighter than he remembered.
He looked up.
There was no sun.
No clouds.
Just light.
An even light spread across the entire space, never changing in brightness. It felt like sunset—
But a sunset that never ended.
There was no sense of direction.
No sign that time was passing.
"Where… is this?"
He didn't expect an answer.
Instead, familiar bits of information began lining themselves up inside his head.
The public briefings. The scattered stories he'd heard since he was a child. The night-shift rumors. The news broadcasts that talked about the Awakened like they were another species entirely.
"Looks like… somehow… I'm in the middle of Awakening," V thought.
Awakening had no fixed pattern.
Some awakened after touching relics with divine traces—objects older than the current system of classification.
Some absorbed mana stones past their limit, forcing their bodies to break their own boundaries.
Some were born with special bloodlines. Awakening was just a matter of time for them.
And then there were cases…
No one could explain.
"So… I'm dreaming?"
If this was the Awakening process, then it made sense that his consciousness would be pulled somewhere else. His real body might be unconscious in the other world—rescued already…
Or maybe not.
"The problem is… no one ever taught me what to do during this."
No textbook. No guide.
Just vague advice like "hold on to your mind" or "don't resist the process." Meaningless words—especially when the people saying them had never experienced it themselves.
He stood alone on the black rocks, feeling genuinely lost for the first time.
If this was a dream—what was he supposed to do?
If it wasn't a dream—that was even worse.
"Best thing is to figure out where I am first."
V moved toward the curved steps hugging the cliff wall.
Under the endless sunset glow, the golden dome no longer shone bright. It reflected a dull, dark orange. The once-white pillars had turned gray-black in the light. Long shadows stretched across the ground, weaving together in tangled patterns beneath his feet.
The stone-inlaid blue door reflected the fading light into a faint, cold violet.
When V pushed it open and stepped inside, a round hall greeted him—lit by dim light spilling from a damaged ceiling above. The entire space was tinted with a soft red-orange hue.
It didn't look like any human architecture he had seen before.
"If this is Awakening…"
"…then I just have to survive until I wake up."
He left the gloomy building behind.
How long he walked after that—he wasn't sure.
In a place without a sun, with limited sight, all sense of distance became blurry. V crossed a curved stone bridge leading to the next section of the island.
Under the endless sunset, the bridge arches were bathed in dark orange light. The water below slowly shifted toward a blue-violet shade. Pillars drilled deep into the cliffside, moss clinging to their base.
Wind rushed through the open archways along the bridge, carrying salt and the echo of waves crashing far below. The red-orange light sliced across each arch, breaking the path into alternating bands of shadow and glow.
He didn't stop.
Only when he reached the center did he truly feel how deep the space beneath him was.
He bent slightly to examine a line of carved patterns etched into the stone—
Then he heard footsteps.
Not metal.
Not boots.
He stiffened and turned around.
Three people stood at the edge of one of the curved arches behind him.
They didn't approach right away.
They kept their distance—like they were observing some unfamiliar animal, still deciding whether it was dangerous.
The one on the left was tall and thin, narrow shoulders, arms slightly longer than normal. His skin was dark, faint pale streaks running along his forearms like dried water trails. His eyes were sharp. Almost aggressive.
The one in the middle was shorter but solidly built. Thick neck. Short hair. When he tilted his head, V felt like every tiny movement was being weighed.
The one on the right—
He was the most unsettling.
He couldn't stand still. His body swayed slightly, shoulders hunched. A thin smile curved his lips. His eyes scanned V as if searching for something.
"You alone?"
The voice rang out—and V froze.
The voice was strange. The language was strange.
But he understood.
Not the kind of understanding where you translate in your head. Not something you process after hearing it.
He understood instantly—like this had always been his language.
He opened his mouth on reflex.
"Yeah."
One word. Short. Natural.
And in that same instant, he noticed something else.
That voice—
Wasn't fully his.
The tone was close, but different. Slightly deeper. The way the words rolled out felt unfamiliar.
The three exchanged glances.
The tall one stepped forward half a pace.
"My name's Irok," he said, placing a hand over his chest in a gesture that felt strange, but respectful.
"That's Sael," he nodded toward the solid one in the middle.
"And the idiot smiling over there is Keren."
"Hey," the one on the right—Keren—spoke up, smile never fading. "I smile because I still remember how to. Got it?"
Sael said nothing. Just stared.
The look made V unconsciously clench his fist.
"Do you still remember your name?" Sael asked.
V was about to answer immediately—
His name—
But the word caught in his throat.
What was his name?
Not the one from the real world.
That name… didn't exist here.
A hollow space opened in his mind.
"I…" he said slowly. "Not sure."
Keren let out a quiet laugh—but there was no joy in it.
"See?" he said. "Walk alone for a bit and it starts."
Irok nodded like it was obvious.
"So how much do you still remember?" Irok asked.
Stranger than the first question.
"Remember?" V repeated.
"Yeah," Irok said. "About yourself."
V didn't answer right away.
In his mind flashed images—the black shoreline. The unmoving sunset light. The collapsed storage room. The monster. The rain. The blood.
And… emptiness.
"I didn't count," he said. "But… something's still there."
Sael finally spoke, voice low and dry.
"Then you still remember."
A conclusion.
None of the three looked surprised. None pressed further. They just stood there, letting the silence wrap around all four of them.
In that silence, V suddenly noticed himself.
His reflection faintly mirrored on the polished stone.
That face—
Wasn't entirely his.
The features were slightly different. Higher cheekbones. Deeper-set eyes. Darker skin—like someone used to living in shadows.
But the build—height, proportions, the way he stood—
Felt familiar.
Like he was wearing someone else's body, but still moving with his own habits.
So…
I'm a resident here.
If this was an Awakening dream—
Then he wasn't an outsider.
Irok spoke again, pulling him back.
"Walk alone too long and you forget faster," he said. "You forget the path. You forget your name. Then you forget who you are."
"Join us," Keren added lightly. "At least if someone talks to you, you'll know you still exist."
Sael said nothing. He simply turned and started walking.
Didn't look back to see if V would follow.
Confidence like that—
Didn't need force.
Part of V warned him.
Too convenient. Too perfect. Too well-timed.
"Better learn more first," he thought.
Then he stepped forward.
The path they led him along was longer than he expected.
Stone arches connected one after another. Some bridges crossed massive waterfalls, water roaring down on three sides, leaving only a narrow path like the spine of some colossal creature.
Along the way, Irok occasionally pointed out subtle signs—a carving slightly deeper than the rest, a faint change in the stone's color.
"Don't step there," he said. "Danger."
Keren chuckled softly behind them.
Sael never once looked back.
V kept walking.
Watching.
Memorizing every movement. Every word.