**Dream: The Forgotten Door**
Kael was falling.
He tumbled through darkness, weightless and silent, the world spinning away in fragments of memory and light. He reached for something anything but his hands closed on nothing but shadows. Then, suddenly, he was standing in a corridor he did not recognize.
The walls were smooth, seamless metal, pulsing with faint blue veins of light. The air was cold, sterile, humming with a low, mechanical thrum. Kael's footsteps echoed as he moved, drawn forward by a force he could not name.
He passed doors each one marked with a symbol he almost recognized: a crown, a broken sword, a spiral of stars. Behind one, he heard the sound of weeping, behind another, the distant roar of a crowd. He tried to open them, but they would not budge.
At the end of the corridor stood a single door, different from the rest. It was made of black stone, carved with runes that shimmered and shifted when he tried to read them. His heart pounded. He knew, somehow, that this door was important. That it was meant for him.
He reached out, his hand trembling. As his fingers brushed the surface, the runes flared with blinding light. The door swung open, and Kael was pulled inside.
He found himself in a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. In the center stood a pedestal, and upon it a mirror. But the reflection was not his own.
He saw a boy, younger than himself, with dark hair and haunted eyes. The boy's face flickered, shifting between expressions: fear, anger, hope, despair. Behind him, shadows writhed, forming shapes Kael could not name monsters, kings, gods.
A voice echoed through the chamber, ancient and inhuman:
**"You are the vessel. The king reborn. The world broken, the cycle unending."**
Kael tried to speak, but his voice was stolen by the wind.
The boy in the mirror reached out, pressing his palm to the glass. Kael felt a jolt of recognition this was the body he now wore, the life he had inherited. But there was something else, something deeper: a memory not his own, a secret buried beneath the skin.
The chamber trembled. The shadows surged, swallowing the boy, the mirror, the world.
**"Remember,"** the voice whispered, fading into silence. **"When the time comes, you must choose."**
---
Kael awoke with a gasp, heart racing, sweat cold on his brow. The dream clung to him, vivid and unsettling. He stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what he'd seen.
A corridor of metal and light. A door of black stone. A boy's face, both familiar and strange.
A choice.
He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. For a moment, he wondered whose heart it truly was.
The community center was quiet in the early morning, survivors still lost in uneasy sleep. Mira was curled beside him, her breathing slow and even. Kael sat up, careful not to wake her, and felt a sudden, urgent need to see himself not just as a king reborn, but as the boy from the dream.
He slipped from the makeshift bedding and padded softly through the dim hallways, searching. In a side room, he found what he was looking for a cracked, dust-streaked mirror propped against the wall, half-hidden behind a stack of broken chairs.
Kael knelt before it, bracing himself. He hadn't truly looked at himself since awakening in this world. Now, in the pale dawn light, he faced the truth.
The face staring back at him was young no more than seventeen, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw softened by youth. His skin was pale, almost translucent in the morning gloom, marred here and there by faint scars and the grime of survival. His hair was dark, nearly black, falling in unruly waves to his brow. It was longer than he remembered, and a lock of it curled stubbornly over his right eye.
But it was the eyes that unsettled him most. They were a deep, stormy gray, flecked with hints of blue and silver. Old eyes, haunted eyes, eyes that had seen too much for a boy this age. They were not the eyes of Kael Ardan, King of Eldros, nor were they quite the eyes of the boy from his new memories. They were something in between, a merging of two souls, two histories.
He studied his reflection, searching for traces of the king he had been. The set of his mouth, the line of his brow there were echoes, but nothing more. This was a new face, a new life, and yet… the weight of destiny clung to it like a shadow.
He reached out, fingertips brushing the cold glass. For a moment, he half-expected the boy from his dream to reach back, palm to palm, separated by only a thin pane of reality.
But there was only his own reflection, staring back with a mix of fear, determination, and something else something ancient and unyielding.
Kael let out a slow breath, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. He was not the king he once was, nor the boy he had become. He was both, and neither. A vessel, a bridge, a question waiting for an answer.
He straightened, running a hand through his hair. The world outside was still broken, still dangerous, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of understanding. He would carry both lives forward, and when the time came, he would choose.
Yet as he turned away from the mirror, the internal struggle remained a gnawing uncertainty about who he truly was, and whether he could ever reconcile the king's burden with the boy's pain. The dream's warning echoed in his mind, and Kael knew that whatever choice awaited him, it would shape not just his fate, but the fate of the broken world itself.
---
Kael left the side room, the image of his own haunted eyes lingering in his thoughts. The world outside the window was still gray and cold, but the community center was beginning to stir. Survivors shuffled through the halls, some searching for food, others tending to wounds or lost in silent prayer. The air was thick with exhaustion and the brittle hope that daylight brought.
He found Mira in the main hall, sitting cross-legged on a battered couch, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked up as he approached, worry flickering across her face.
"You're up early," she said, her voice soft.
Kael managed a small smile. "Couldn't sleep. Bad dreams."
She nodded, understanding. "Me too. I keep thinking about… before. When everything changed." She hesitated, then added, "You look tired."
He shrugged, not trusting himself to say more. The weight of the dream, the mirror, and the uncertainty of who he truly was pressed down on him. But he forced himself to focus on Mira, on the here and now.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not really. Ryu's looking for something to eat. He said he'd save us some if he found anything good."
Kael glanced around, spotting Ryu near the supply table, chatting with a pair of older survivors. The young man's easy grin and restless energy were a small comfort in the gloom.
A sharp voice cut through the morning murmur. Sera Lin, the Shadowglade Guild's captain, was already up and moving, her presence commanding as she organized the day's tasks. She wore a patched leather jacket and carried a battered rifle slung over one shoulder.
"Listen up!" Sera called, her voice carrying through the hall. "We're splitting into two teams today. One will scavenge for food and water. The other my team will check the subway tunnels for survivors. We've had reports of people trapped down there since the last collapse. It's dangerous, but if we don't help them, no one will."
She scanned the crowd, her gaze settling on Kael. "You. Sovereign. You're with me."
Kael nodded, feeling the eyes of the room on him. He glanced at Mira, who bit her lip, worry etched deep in her features.
"I'll be careful," he promised, squeezing her hand. "Stay with Ryu. Watch out for each other."
She nodded, but her grip lingered on his fingers. "Don't do anything stupid."
He managed a wry smile. "I'll try."
Ryu joined them, a half-eaten protein bar in hand. "You heading out already?"
Kael nodded. "Sera wants me on the tunnel team."
Ryu's eyes widened. "That's… brave. Or crazy. I heard the last group barely made it out. There's something big down there."
Kael's mind flashed to the dream, the sense of being watched, of something ancient lurking just out of sight. He pushed the thought away. "We'll be careful. Look after Mira for me."
Ryu nodded, his expression serious for once. "You got it."
Kael moved to join Sera and the others gathering near the entrance. The team was small just five, including Sera and himself. The others were a wiry man named Jonas, a quiet woman called Hana, and a burly ex-firefighter named Malik. Each carried whatever weapons they could find a crowbar, a length of pipe, a battered machete.
Sera handed out battered flashlights and a handful of glowsticks. "We don't know how stable the tunnels are, so watch your step. If you see anything move, call it out. Don't be a hero we're just trying to get people out alive."
Kael checked his own supplies the kitchen knife, a few bandages, the minor healing potion he'd earned from the last quest. He tucked the potion into his pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of it. The system's interface hovered at the edge of his vision, a silent reminder of the power he carried and the responsibility.
As they prepared to leave, Sera pulled him aside. "You fought well yesterday. I don't know what your class really is, but I'm glad you're on my team."
Kael met her gaze, the king's old confidence flickering in his eyes. "I'll do what I can."
She nodded, then turned to the group. "Let's move."
They stepped out into the morning, the city's ruins looming around them. The entrance to the subway was only a few blocks away, but every step felt heavy with anticipation. Kael kept his senses sharp, the skills he'd absorbed from monsters humming beneath his skin heightened hearing, sharper vision, the subtle awareness of danger.
As they walked, Jonas muttered, "You really think anyone's still alive down there?"
Sera's jaw tightened. "I have to. Otherwise, what's the point?"
Kael said nothing, but he understood. In a world this broken, hope was a weapon as sharp as any blade.
They reached the subway entrance a yawning black mouth in the side of a crumbling building, half-choked with debris. The air that wafted up was cold and stale, tinged with the scent of mold and something fouler.
Sera cracked a glowstick, the green light casting eerie shadows on the walls. "Stay close. And remember quiet."
They descended into the darkness, flashlights flickering, footsteps echoing on the cracked tiles. Kael's heart pounded, but he forced himself to focus. The dream, the mirror, the questions about who he truly was all of it faded beneath the immediate, pressing need to survive and protect.
He was Kael Ardan, king and boy, vessel and survivor. And whatever waited in the dark, he would face it one step, one choice at a time.