As Kane entered the Nightmare, he found himself thrust into a surreal and disorienting vision. It was a place of stark contrasts and unsettling beauty, a precarious stone plateau suspended between the imposing grandeur of a snow-capped mountain and the ominous, smoldering silhouette of a black volcano. The plateau, a fractured expanse of rock, jutted out into a seemingly bottomless chasm, a dizzying abyss that plunged into shadow.
A river, its waters a milky white, snaked across this strange landscape, partially obscured by a thick, ethereal fog. The fog clung to the ground like a shroud, lending an otherworldly quality to the scene. Yet, despite the gloom, the river shone with an unnatural luminescence, reflecting the cold, piercing light of the moon with an almost painful intensity. However, this serene beauty was marred by a single, horrifying anomaly: a patch of ground near the riverbank, stained a deep, crimson red. The earth there was scarred and broken, the air thick with the lingering stench of blood and death, a stark testament to a recent massacre.
Suddenly, the flow of time itself seemed to unravel. The scene before Kane's eyes began to rewind, the milky river flowing backward, the fog receding, and the very light of the moon retracing its path across the sky. A voice, ancient and resonant, echoed through the dreamlike landscape.
["Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare yourself, for you stand upon the threshold of your First Trial..."]
Kane was overwhelmed, caught between awe at the breathtaking, albeit unsettling, beauty of the vista and profound shock at the bizarre manipulation of time. The reversal of time ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving him disoriented and vulnerable.
He found himself inhabiting the body of another, a frail and seemingly insignificant figure. This person was utterly defenseless, stripped of any semblance of power or agency. His hands and legs were bound tightly, confining him within a crude, makeshift cage. He was surrounded by a group of heavily armed individuals, their faces grim and contemptuous. They were clad in roughspun garments, their bodies hardened by travel and conflict, and they wielded an array of brutal weapons: blood-stained swords, menacing spears, and cruel-looking axes.
The leader of the group, a hulking figure with a scarred face and cold eyes, addressed the captive with disdain. "Consider it an honor, wretch, that you are deemed worthy of sacrifice to the War Goddess. You should have renounced your allegiance to the Dreadful One. This is the fate of all his misguided followers."
Kane, trapped within this frail body and witnessing this scene, was utterly confused. This was not how the Nightmare Spell was supposed to unfold. Typically, the trials presented opportunities, challenges to overcome, advantages to exploit. But he found himself in a situation where his immediate priority was not to confront some monstrous entity, but to somehow escape from these hostile humans and, if possible, hunt down a Nightmare Creature to fulfill the requirements of the trial. There was a sliver of a silver lining, however. He instinctively knew that if he managed to survive this ordeal, his aspect, whatever its current state, would undoubtedly become significantly more potent.
His immediate concern, however, was survival. He needed information, and he needed it quickly. He focused his thoughts, attempting to summon the arcane runes that governed his abilities and status. He concentrated on specific words, incantations of power: "Status," "Information," and, most importantly, "Runes." Slowly, tentatively, the runes began to shimmer into existence, their ancient symbols glowing with an ethereal light.
He scanned the information, his heart sinking with each passing moment.
****
Name: Kane
True Name: -
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Memories: -
Echoes: -
Attributes: [Fated][Adaptive][Mark of Divinity]
Aspect: [Lonely Follower]
Aspect Description: [The Only Follower of who bears the scent of dread with no abilities and skills worth to try. Your are an antique]
****
Kane's thoughts were a whirlwind of disbelief and frustration. 'Holy crap,' he thought, his internal voice laced with bitterness. 'What kind of utterly useless aspect is this? How in the name of the forgotten gods am I supposed to survive this Nightmare? I'm basically a prisoner with a fancy title and a bad smell.'
He was still lamenting his misfortune when he heard a voice from his right. It was one of the soldiers, his tone a mix of curiosity and contempt. "Seriously, what possessed you to become a follower of him? Why didn't you choose to worship the true gods, the ones who offer strength and protection?"
Kane, his patience wearing thin, replied with a snarl, "What do you care? It's not as if you're going to spare my life even if I suddenly decided to change my faith. At least have the decency to tell me where you're dragging me to be executed."
The soldier scoffed, his expression hardening. "It seems your heart is as black as your master's. We are taking you to the War Goddess's temple, where you and the other heretics will receive the judgment you deserve."
Kane retorted mockingly, "What a display of benevolent piety," his voice dripping with sarcasm. The soldier's face flushed with anger, but he remained silent. Kane, sensing an opportunity, pressed further. "Anyway, where is this... temple? I don't see any settlements nearby, any signs of civilization."
The soldier, clearly struggling to maintain his composure, snapped, "You have no right to ask questions, you imbecile. So shut your filthy mouth and spend your remaining moments in quiet contemplation... if you're even capable of such a thing."
Kane, unable to resist one last barb, replied with a defiant sneer, "Fuck off."
The soldier to his left, seemingly less concerned with maintaining a facade of stoic cruelty, offered a grudging observation. "The chasm is quite beautiful, I'll admit. The snow-capped mountain on the left, the volcano on the right... and that strange white stone... it's quite a sight. That's why the captain chose this route; he wanted to explore this uncharted valley."
The man who appeared to be the captain of the squad, mounted on a magnificent white horse, his armor gleaming in the moonlight, finally spoke, his voice sharp and authoritative. "Everyone, silence! And remain vigilant. We are entering uncharted territory. We have no idea what manner of creatures or dangers lurk within this valley. If anyone leaks any further information to this caged bastard, they will be executed on the spot. Is that understood?"
The soldiers fell silent, their expressions a mixture of fear and obedience. Kane, observing them, thought grimly, 'These guys are going to be a problem. They're well-organized, heavily armed, and extremely cautious. I won't survive this Nightmare if this continues.' He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, to suppress the rising tide of panic. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast. He closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts once more, and summoned the shimmering runes again.
****
[Fated] Attribute Description:"The Strings of Fate wrap tightly around you.Unlikely events both good and bad are drawn by your prescence.There are those who are blessed and there are those who are cursed...but rarely both"
[Adaptive]Attribute Description:"You are adaptive according to you surroundings and learn skills quickly"
[Mark of Divinity]Attribute Description:"You bear a faint scent of divinity,as though someone briefly touched by it once,a long time ago"
****
Kane studied his attributes, his mind racing. The [Mark of Divinity] was intriguing. It hinted at a connection to something greater, something beyond the mortal realm. It could indeed be the key to unlocking hidden pathways and forgotten lore within the Dream Realm, a valuable asset in the long run. The [Fated] attribute, however, was a double-edged sword. It explained his current predicament, his capture, and his generally miserable luck. He was, as the description stated, a magnet for the improbable, and at the moment, the improbable was decidedly unpleasant. It also meant that there was a potential for great opportunity, a chance to turn the tide in his favor. He just needed to survive long enough for that opportunity to present itself. The last attribute, and the only one that seemed immediately useful, was [Adaptive]. This ability would allow him to learn quickly, to master new skills, and to survive in this hostile environment. It was his lifeline, his only hope of making it through this trial.
He dismissed the shimmering runes, his mind still reeling from the implications of his situation. He slumped against the cold, hard floor of the cage, his stomach growling in protest. 'I'm feeling incredibly thirsty and hungry,' he thought, a wave of weariness washing over him. 'Apparently, my appetite has decided to follow me into the Nightmare. Of all the times to be reminded of my basic needs...'
Suddenly, the wind picked up, swirling around the squad of soldiers and the caged Kane. A low rumble echoed through the chasm, growing louder with each passing second. The soldiers shifted nervously, their hands tightening around their weapons. The captain, his face etched with a growing unease, barked an order. "Brace yourselves!"
Kane, clinging to the side rods of the cage to steady himself, felt a growing sense of dread. There was something unnatural about this storm. It wasn't behaving like a normal weather pattern. 'How can a storm travel in a straight line like that?' he wondered, his mind racing. 'And why am I seeing... shapes within it? Are those... people?'
The soldiers, too, seemed to sense the anomaly. A palpable tension filled the air, thicker than the swirling dust and debris. The captain, his voice trembling slightly, confirmed their worst fears. "Everyone, draw your weapons! That's not a storm... that's a fucking Nightmare Creature!"
The words sent a jolt of adrenaline through Kane. Instinctively, he understood. This was it. This was his First Trial. To survive, to escape his predicament, he had to kill the storm.
As the storm hurtled towards them, Kane felt a bone-chilling sensation, a wave of icy dread that washed over his very soul. Within the swirling vortex of wind and darkness, he saw fleeting images, glimpses of faces and places that stirred a strange and unsettling sense of familiarity. The soldiers around him cried out, their faces contorted with a mixture of terror and recognition, experiencing their own personal horrors within the storm.
Then, as quickly as it had arrived, the storm dispersed, leaving behind an eerie silence. In its wake, however, was not the aftermath of a natural disaster, but a scene of grotesque horror. Numerous Nightmare Creatures, each more bizarre and terrifying than the last, materialized from the dissipating storm, their forms twisted and warped into nightmarish parodies of life.
The soldiers, though shaken, stood their ground, their weapons raised, prepared for battle. But Kane, trapped within his cage, was fixated on a single figure, a creature that stood at the forefront of the monstrous horde. His voice, filled with a mixture of shock and disbelief, broke the silence. "What the fuck...?"
Standing before him, amidst the grotesque assembly of Nightmare Creatures, was the assassin who had murdered his mother and he was stuck with him in the cage