Fair warning: this chapter was heavily prompted and written with the help of AI. Not completely—I read through the chapter and let some details pass that I'll smooth over in the next chapter, like Nephis not outright talking with Ananke, the lack of proper reactions to being unable to use their Aspects, some character/name details, and other smaller stuff.
Why didn't the author just write it?
Because the author hates writing prologues for reaction fics.
I have five COTE reaction fics that are heavily liked, with thousands of votes and tens of thousands of views on Wattpad, so I can write well. The quality past this chapter will be top-notch.
Everything beyond this point will be written by hand and by me only. As hypocritical as it might sound, I still care a lot about writing.
The author is just lazy when it comes to writing something he doesn't feel like writing.
So yeah.
...
...
...
Different people, scattered throughout the Waking World and Dream Realm, were living their lives as they normally would.
Some were working.
Some were resting.
Some were training.
Others were dealing with matters that could determine the future of humanity itself.
And then—
Without warning, all of them disappeared.
"What the—?!"
"The hell?!"
"What's happening?!"
"Where am I?!"
Dozens of voices erupted at once as people suddenly found themselves inside an enormous theater.
The transition had been instantaneous.
One moment, there had been offices, palaces, battlefields, Citadels and streets.
The next, there were rows upon rows of seats descending toward an enormous black screen.
For several seconds, complete chaos reigned.
Some immediately jumped to their feet.
Others instinctively reached for weapons.
A few remained completely still, choosing to observe before doing anything rash.
The more experienced among them were already studying the unfamiliar environment, searching for enemies, exits, traps, or even the slightest indication of how they had been brought here.
There was nothing.
No explanation.
No obvious entrance.
No enemy waiting to ambush them.
Just a theater.
Morgan was among the first to recover.
Her surprise disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a cold expression as her gaze swept across her surroundings.
She wasn't alone.
Several Saints and Awakened belonging to Valor occupied portions of the fifth, sixth and seventh rows.
Morgan's eyes moved between them, confirming familiar faces before immediately searching beyond their group.
Her expression hardened.
Because on the opposite side of the theater...
Song was there.
Members of the Song Domain had appeared in much the same manner, scattered throughout several rows but close enough to immediately begin gathering together.
Seishan's expression remained composed.
Beastmaster was considerably less subtle.
Her gaze immediately landed on the forces of Valor, and a dangerous smile slowly appeared on her beautiful face.
The atmosphere changed.
Whatever confusion the two groups had felt about their sudden arrival was momentarily replaced by something much more familiar.
Hostility.
Several people instinctively tensed.
Valor watched Song.
Song watched Valor.
Neither knew whether the other was responsible.
And neither seemed particularly willing to dismiss the possibility.
Between the two groups were several members of the government.
Jet was among them.
Unlike some of the others, she didn't waste time shouting questions nobody could answer. Her dark eyes quietly moved across the theater, taking inventory of everyone present.
People from Valor.
People from Song.
Government personnel.
Civilians.
Saints.
Masters.
Awakened.
And...
Jet's eyes narrowed slightly.
There were people she didn't recognize.
A lot of them.
Elsewhere, another familiar group had appeared closer to the front.
Effie blinked.
Then blinked again.
She slowly looked around.
"...Okay." She said as she hugged a sleeping little Ling close.
Kai turned toward her.
Effie pointed vaguely at everything around them.
"Please tell me I'm not the only one who has absolutely no idea what the hell is happening."
"Unfortunately, no."
Despite his calm voice, Kai appeared just as disturbed.
His eyes moved toward the other people in the theater before widening.
"Wait..."
Effie followed his gaze.
Her expression changed.
"Princess?"
Nephis stood only a short distance away.
She had already recovered from the sudden transportation.
Unlike Effie, she hadn't shouted.
She simply stood there, silver hair falling around her face as her calm grey eyes studied everything around her.
The theater.
The people.
Valor.
Song.
The government.
Every possible threat.
Every possible ally.
And every inconsistency.
There were many.
Nephis's gaze shifted.
"Cassie."
Cassia stood nearby.
Strangely, she had barely moved since arriving.
Her delicate features were tense.
Her head tilted slightly, almost as though she were listening to something nobody else could hear.
Or perhaps...
trying to hear something that wasn't there.
"Cassie?"
Nephis approached her.
Cassie finally reacted.
"I'm fine."
Her voice was quiet.
But Nephis continued staring at her.
Cassie's expression didn't change.
"...I just don't understand what's happening..." She paused as she looked at them.
Seriously.
"But I can somehow see."
That alone was enough as Nephis and the others widened their eyes.
Though Nephis only slightly.
Because Cassie usually understood far more than she let anyone know.
The fact that she was admitting ignorance so easily meant something was deeply wrong.
Effie and Kai soon joined them, followed shortly afterward by Jet.
For a brief moment, the members of the cohort simply looked at each other.
They were together.
That should have been reassuring.
Instead, something about the sight felt...
Incomplete.
None of them could have explained why.
And with far more pressing matters surrounding them, none lingered on the strange sensation.
Elsewhere in the theater—
Rain was having a considerably worse time.
"What the hell?!"
She stumbled between two seats, barely managing to catch herself before falling face-first onto the floor.
Rain quickly straightened.
She looked around.
Then froze.
There were a lot of people.
That wasn't necessarily a problem.
Then she recognized one.
Her eyes widened.
Then another.
And another.
Her face slowly lost color.
'No.'
She looked toward one section.
Valor.
Then the other.
Song.
Her gaze shifted toward the front.
Changing Star.
Nightingale.
Raised by Wolves.
Soul Reaper.
Rain's mouth slowly fell open.
'No, no, no, no...'
Saints.
There were actual Saints everywhere.
People whose names were known across humanity were sitting only a few rows away from her.
And she—
Rain—
was standing among them.
A mundane girl.
Well...
Mostly mundane.
But they certainly didn't need to know that.
Rain immediately made herself smaller.
'Why am I here?!'
Her eyes darted around nervously.
'Teacher?'
She glanced downward.
For an instant, instinct told her to speak.
Then she stopped herself.
There were far too many people around.
If her teacher was watching through her shadow, he would surely explain eventually.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Rain swallowed.
'You better have a really good explanation for this.'
Not far from her, Professor Julius was experiencing almost the opposite reaction.
Rather than shrinking away from the impossible gathering, the old scholar's eyes seemed to brighten with every passing second.
"What an extraordinary place..."
He adjusted his glasses.
His attention moved from the theater to the gathered people.
There were individuals he recognized.
Others he didn't.
And several whose clothing alone seemed to belong in a museum.
Julius's interest only increased.
Nearby, Kim and Luster were considerably more cautious.
"What do you think?"
Kim kept her voice low.
Luster stared around.
"I think I'd rather be literally anywhere else."
"Helpful."
"I try."
Then—
someone else quietly appeared among them.
Mordret.
There was no dramatic reaction.
No alarm.
No demand for answers.
He simply stood there.
His dark eyes calmly moved across the room.
Valor.
Song.
Nephis.
Morgan.
The cohort.
Rain.
The unknown people.
His gaze lingered on several of them.
Then Mordret smiled.
"How interesting."
The words were quiet.
Yet something about the smile made the people nearest to him instinctively move a little farther away.
However, the modern humans weren't the only ones who had been brought to the theater.
At the front right sat another group.
They were strange.
Even among Awakened, they stood out immediately.
Their clothing was unlike anything worn in the Waking World.
Their mannerisms were different.
Some appeared confused by the theater itself rather than merely confused about how they had arrived there.
And, most strangely...
several had been dead for thousands of years.
Ananke slowly opened her eyes.
The old priestess looked around.
There was no panic on her wrinkled face.
Only confusion.
Then curiosity.
Her gaze moved across the strange seats, unfamiliar architecture, enormous screen and countless people dressed in clothing she had never seen before.
"My..."
Her voice was soft.
"What a peculiar place."
A short distance away, someone else had reached a very different conclusion.
Noctis stared at the curtains.
His eyes widened.
He reached forward and gently ran his fingers along the fabric.
Silence.
Then—
"Sublime."
Solvane slowly turned toward him.
Noctis ignored her.
He grabbed a portion of the curtain between his fingers, examining it with the seriousness another warrior might have devoted to an enemy's weapon.
"Absolutely sublime!"
Several modern Awakened turned toward him.
Noctis didn't care.
"What craftsmanship! What texture! What elegance!"
He looked upward as though personally offended that such artistry had existed without his knowledge.
"Whoever created this place possesses exceptional taste."
Solvane stared at him.
"Noctis."
"Hm?"
"We have been abducted."
"I am aware."
"And your concern is the curtains?"
Noctis looked at her as though she had asked the stupidest question imaginable.
"Have you looked at them?"
Solvane closed her eyes.
"...Imbecile."
A little farther away, another figure rose.
Unlike Noctis, Daeron did not allow curiosity to overwhelm caution.
The Serpent King stood tall.
Even without knowing his identity, several modern Awakened instinctively became wary.
There was something unmistakable about him.
Authority.
Not the manufactured authority of wealth or reputation.
The natural presence of someone who had commanded others for longer than most people had been alive.
Beside him stood Wind Flower.
Her beautiful face was composed, but her eyes moved carefully across the theater.
"Father."
"I know."
Daeron's voice was calm.
"Stay close."
Wind Flower nodded.
Her gaze passed over the strange humans surrounding them.
Both their clothing and their mannerisms.
Everything was unfamiliar.
And yet...
They were unmistakably human.
Ananke noticed them and slowly approached.
Daeron's eyes settled on her.
Then narrowed.
There was something familiar about the old woman.
Something ancient.
Something connected to a power he recognized.
Before either could speak—
another voice interrupted.
"Well!"
Noctis appeared beside them with a delighted smile.
"It seems whoever kidnapped us has gathered quite the collection."
Solvane followed several steps behind him.
"You seem remarkably pleased about being kidnapped."
"Why shouldn't I be?"
Noctis spread his arms.
"We are alive. We are unharmed. We are somewhere I've never been before, surrounded by people I've never met, inside a building with magnificent curtains."
His smile widened.
"This is already the most interesting thing to happen to me this month."
Wind Flower stared at him.
Daeron sighed.
Ananke chuckled softly.
For a brief moment, even Solvane looked as though she was suppressing the urge to react.
Then the mood shifted.
Because the modern humans had finally begun paying attention to them.
One by one, conversations quieted.
Eyes turned toward the strange group at the front.
Morgan noticed first.
Then Seishan.
Then Jet.
Then Nephis.
Cassie's head slowly turned in their direction.
Kai stared.
Effie's eyebrows rose.
Rain looked between them and everyone else.
"Who..."
Her voice became quieter.
"...are those people?"
Nobody immediately answered.
But some of the people present recognized them.
Nephis's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But for someone like her, it might as well have been a scream.
Her gaze had landed on Ananke.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
The theater.
Valor.
Song.
The danger.
All of it.
Nephis simply stared at the old woman.
A woman who should not be standing there.
A woman who belonged to the Tomb of Ariel.
A woman whose life had ended countless years before Nephis had ever been born.
Her fingers slowly curled.
'Ananke...'
Kai's reaction came a second later.
His eyes landed on the flamboyant man in red.
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
Then opened again.
"No way..."
Effie turned toward him.
"What?"
Kai didn't answer.
He simply stared at Noctis.
Meanwhile, several members of Valor had noticed Solvane.
Others were staring at Daeron and Wind Flower.
The atmosphere became stranger by the second.
Because realization was beginning to spread.
These weren't merely unknown Awakened.
Some of these people were impossible.
People from Nightmares.
People from history.
People who should have been dead for thousands upon thousands of years.
And yet they stood there.
Alive.
Breathing.
Confused.
Just like everyone else.
Professor Julius looked as though someone had presented him with the greatest gift imaginable.
Rain looked like she wanted to leave.
Immediately.
Mordret simply continued smiling.
Morgan's gaze hardened.
Seishan became more cautious.
Cassie's expression grew increasingly troubled.
And Nephis could not take her eyes off Ananke.
Slowly, the theater descended into a different kind of silence.
Valor stood on one side.
Song on the other.
The government occupied the space between them.
The cohort had gathered near the front.
Rain remained among people vastly more powerful and important than herself.
Mordret stood apart from everyone.
And opposite them were humans belonging to civilizations that had disappeared long before the Waking World knew the Nightmare Spell existed.
Thousands of years of history had been compressed into one room.
Enemies.
Allies.
Kings.
Saints.
Priestesses.
Soldiers.
Scholars.
Mundanes.
People who knew each other.
People who hated each other.
People who mourned each other.
And people who had never been meant to exist at the same point in time.
But among all those gathered...
one person was conspicuously absent.
Not that anyone noticed.
There was no Sunless.
No mysterious shopkeeper.
No Lord of Shadows.
No forgotten member standing beside the cohort.
No one occupying the empty place that none of them remembered existed.
The theater had gathered everyone it desired.
Except him.
And for now—
no one knew why.
...
At the moment, everyone had finally finished realizing that they could not use their Aspects and had reluctantly made peace with the situation.
Then, the enormous black screen came alive.
Letters slowly appeared across its surface.
[Aspirants, welcome to the Theater of the Epigone.]
The reaction was almost immediate.
"The Nightmare Spell..."
Someone whispered the words.
Many had already reached the same conclusion.
The Ruin.
The cold manner of address.
The designation of Aspirant.
Everything about the message was unmistakably reminiscent of the Spell.
Morgan's eyes narrowed.
"So this is the work of the Nightmare Spell?"
She did not sound convinced.
Around her, the members of Valor slowly began to settle into their seats. They had already discovered that their Aspects were inaccessible, and whatever had brought them here had shown no immediate hostility.
For the moment, observing was the only reasonable course of action.
Across the theater, Seishan came to much the same conclusion.
She gracefully sat down.
"That would explain some things."
"Would it?"
Beastmaster smiled as she took the seat beside her.
"Since when does the Spell invite people to theaters?"
"It doesn't."
Morgan's voice carried across the room.
Beastmaster's smile widened.
"Then perhaps you shouldn't sound so certain."
"I wasn't."
Before another argument could begin, Jet dropped into her own seat.
"Whether it's the Spell or something else, we're not getting out right now."
Her dark eyes moved toward the screen.
"So we might as well see what it wants."
That seemed to be the prevailing opinion.
One after another, people began sitting.
Effie practically fell into her seat, carefully keeping the sleeping Ling against her chest.
"Great."
Kai sat beside her.
"Something wrong?"
"We've been kidnapped, our powers don't work, there are dead people sitting twenty feet away from us, and now the Nightmare Spell might be talking to us."
She looked at him.
"What part sounds right?"
Kai considered the question.
"...At least the seats are comfortable."
Effie stared at him.
Kai smiled awkwardly.
"Trying to be positive."
"Don't."
Jet snorted.
Nephis remained standing.
Her silver hair framed an emotionless face as she stared at the screen.
The Nightmare Spell.
She knew its voice.
Everyone who had experienced it did.
And this...
was almost perfect.
Almost.
Nephis finally sat down.
"It resembles the Spell."
Cassie settled into the seat beside her.
"But?"
Nephis remained silent for a moment.
"It has never done this before."
"No."
Cassie's strange, newly restored eyes stared at the glowing words.
"Not to us."
Her fingers slowly curled.
The simple movement caught Nephis's attention.
Cassie was looking at her own hand.
Actually looking at it.
There was no borrowed vision.
No Aspect.
No prophetic revelation.
She could simply see.
Cassie's lips pressed together.
"If this is the Spell..."
She paused.
"...why can I see?"
No one answered.
Kai's expression became more serious.
Effie's amusement disappeared as well.
The question was simple.
Its implications weren't.
A short distance away, Professor Julius was practically vibrating in his seat.
"The Nightmare Spell..."
He adjusted his glasses.
"Extraordinary."
Luster glanced at him.
"That's your reaction?"
"What else should my reaction be?"
"Fear?"
"Already experienced it."
"Concern?"
"That too."
Julius leaned forward.
"But fear and scholarly interest are hardly mutually exclusive."
Kim sighed.
"Of course they aren't."
Julius ignored her.
His attention had already shifted to the final word.
"Epigone..."
Kai heard him.
"Do you know what that means, Professor?"
Julius's eyes brightened.
"Indeed."
Several people nearby turned toward him.
"An epigone is, broadly speaking, someone who follows another. A successor, disciple, inheritor, or follower of an earlier figure or tradition."
Effie frowned.
"So..."
She pointed toward the screen.
"The Theater of the Successor?"
"A crude interpretation, but yes."
Julius rubbed his chin.
"Although the particular choice of terminology is fascinating. 'Epigone' carries the implication of someone who comes after another and continues what preceded them."
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"The question, naturally, is..."
"Successor to whom?" Jet finished.
"Precisely."
A few rows away, Rain had finally sat down.
Or, more accurately, she had made herself as small as possible in her seat.
Her eyes remained fixed on the first word.
Aspirants.
'Nightmare Spell...'
Rain swallowed.
There was one very obvious problem with that explanation.
She didn't have the Nightmare Spell.
She had never conquered a First Nightmare.
She had never even become infected by it.
And yet she was here.
'Why is it calling me an Aspirant?'
Her eyes instinctively dropped toward the floor.
Toward her shadow.
Nothing.
Rain waited.
'Teacher?'
Nothing.
Her eyebrow twitched.
'Teacher.'
Silence.
Rain's concern slowly began transforming into irritation.
'You better not be hiding because you somehow caused this.'
Still nothing.
She resisted the urge to glare at her own shadow.
Around her, the conversation continued.
But among the people seated toward the front...
the reaction was subtly different.
Ananke stared at the message.
Her expression had become solemn.
"The Spell."
The words were spoken with neither confusion nor fear.
Only recognition.
Nephis immediately noticed.
Her gaze shifted toward the old priestess.
Ananke knew the Nightmare Spell intimately.
She had been a priestess of the Nightmare Spell.
A priestess of Weaver.
If anyone here could recognize its touch...
Ananke should have been among them.
Yet the old woman's brows slowly drew together.
"Strange."
Nephis's gaze sharpened.
"What is?"
Ananke did not immediately answer.
Her ancient eyes remained fixed on the screen.
Finally, she spoke.
"The voice is familiar."
She paused.
"But the words are not."
Nephis glanced toward the message.
Theater of the Epigone.
Ananke's gaze lingered on the final word slightly longer than it should have.
Something passed through her expression.
Recognition?
Confusion?
Nephis could not tell.
Then it vanished.
Nearby, Noctis had finally managed to tear himself away from the theater's curtains.
He dropped elegantly into his seat.
"Well."
Solvane sat beside him.
Noctis smiled.
"This is certainly new."
"You recognize it."
It wasn't a question.
"Naturally."
His eyes remained on the screen.
"The Spell has a rather distinctive manner of speaking."
His smile slowly weakened.
"Although..."
Solvane glanced at him.
"Although?"
"I've never known it to possess such an appreciation for dramatic presentation."
Solvane stared at him.
"That's what concerns you?"
"It is one of several things."
Noctis gestured toward the theater.
"Being transported without warning is another."
He pointed toward himself.
"My powers disappearing is quite concerning."
Then toward the ancient and modern humans gathered together.
"And this..."
For once, his expression became genuinely thoughtful.
"...is rather difficult to explain."
Solvane's gaze swept across the theater.
People from eras separated by thousands of years.
People who had died.
People who had never been born during her lifetime.
All sitting together.
"No Nightmare I know could accomplish this."
"Precisely."
Noctis smiled again.
"Which makes our situation fascinating."
"It makes it dangerous."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
Solvane sighed.
Not far away, Daeron remained silent.
Wind Flower sat beside her father.
Neither seemed particularly surprised by the mention of the Nightmare Spell itself.
They knew it.
Far better than many of the modern humans could have imagined.
Daeron's eyes remained fixed on the screen.
"The Spell..."
His voice was low.
Wind Flower turned toward him.
"Father?"
"It should not be possible."
Her expression became more solemn.
She understood what he meant.
The two of them had not merely known of the Spell.
Their very existence had once been preserved within it.
A Nightmare had carried remnants of their lives across an unfathomable span of time.
And yet this was different.
Daeron slowly looked around.
Ananke.
Noctis.
Solvane.
His daughter.
People belonging to entirely different ages.
And then the modern humans.
"This is no ordinary Nightmare."
Wind Flower nodded.
"No."
"Perhaps not a Nightmare at all."
That statement drew attention.
Morgan looked toward him.
"Then you don't believe the Spell brought us here?"
Daeron's gaze settled on her.
"I did not say that."
Morgan's eyes narrowed.
Daeron returned his attention to the screen.
"I said this is not a Nightmare."
There was a difference.
A significant one.
From another section of the theater came a quiet chuckle.
Mordret.
Naturally, he had chosen to sit alone.
Or perhaps everyone else had simply chosen not to sit near him.
Either explanation worked.
"How interesting."
Morgan's expression immediately hardened.
"What?"
Mordret smiled pleasantly.
"The Spell."
His dark eyes traveled across the theater.
"It is the simplest explanation."
He leaned back.
"Which makes me distrust it."
Beastmaster chuckled.
"For once, we agree."
Mordret's smile grew.
"My condolences."
Her smile twitched.
Morgan ignored them both.
"If it isn't the Spell, then something is deliberately imitating it."
"Correct."
Mordret tapped one finger against his armrest.
"And that possibility is considerably more entertaining."
"Concerning," Jet corrected.
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
Noctis immediately pointed toward Mordret.
"Exactly!"
Solvane slowly turned toward him.
"No."
Mordret's eyebrows rose.
Noctis looked almost delighted to have found someone who understood him.
Solvane looked considerably less delighted.
Elsewhere, Seishan remained quiet.
Her attention was not on the argument.
It was on Ananke.
Then Daeron.
Then Noctis and Solvane.
The ancient humans had recognized the Nightmare Spell.
That alone was valuable information.
Very valuable.
The Spell was ancient.
Everyone knew that.
But having living witnesses from civilizations swallowed by history sitting before them was another matter entirely.
Seishan stored the information away.
Morgan was doing the same.
So was Jet.
So was Cassie.
Especially Cassie.
Her eyes moved from person to person.
Ancient.
Modern.
Enemies.
Allies.
People who should be dead.
People who had met one another only inside Nightmares.
And people who had no reason to be gathered together at all.
There was a pattern here.
There had to be.
She simply couldn't see it yet.
That bothered her.
More than she allowed anyone to notice.
Finally, Nephis spoke.
"So we agree on one thing."
The conversations slowly quieted.
Her grey eyes remained on the screen.
"This resembles the Nightmare Spell."
Morgan nodded.
"But we don't know whether it actually is."
"No."
Ananke's soft voice joined theirs.
"We do not."
Silence returned.
That answer seemed considerably more disturbing coming from her.
Rain shifted uncomfortably.
Effie leaned back.
Kai's expression became thoughtful.
Jet crossed her arms.
Morgan watched the screen.
Seishan watched everyone else.
Mordret continued smiling.
Noctis looked entertained.
Solvane looked irritated by the fact that Noctis looked entertained.
Daeron remained solemn.
Wind Flower stayed close to him.
Cassie stared at a world she could suddenly see again.
And Nephis...
Nephis's eyes settled on one word.
Epigone.
Successor.
Inheritor.
Follower.
'Of whom?'
Slowly, the final people still standing began taking their seats.
Valor gathered together.
Song did the same.
Government personnel occupied the uneasy space between them.
The cohort remained near the front.
The people of ancient eras settled into their own section.
Rain tried desperately to remain unnoticed.
Mordret remained conspicuously alone.
The initial panic had faded.
In its place came something else.
Expectation.
Whatever this place was...
Whatever the Theater of the Epigone meant...
And whether the entity speaking to them was truly the Nightmare Spell or merely something wearing its voice...
There was only one way to learn more.
They would have to watch.
Slowly, hundreds of conversations became dozens.
Dozens became whispers.
And eventually—
silence.
Every eye turned toward the enormous screen.
Waiting for it to speak again.
[The viewing beings.]
Eveyone sharpened at the sudden words and got to sit down instead of chatting; everyone here knew not to expect the spell to wait for them.
Yet everyone had one similar thought.
'Let's see what the spell wants now.'
...
Prologue done. AI gone. Author's actually writing now.