The room is silent. For a little while, neither Ryven nor Michael speak. The middle aged man merely continues to write in his notes and files, glancing up from time to time.
Ryven lays back, looking up at the brightened ceiling.
It is only after a few more moments, that Michael begins to speak.
"Hmmm. That is quite peculiar, but definitely not out of the range of a creatures expanse." He comments.
Ryven stares at him for a moment, as if nervous about what was to come.
"Is it possible that this was all just a dream, and that I didn't actually get pulled into the lunar plane?" He asks, eyes glued to man's face.
Michael sighs. "Sure it's possible," he states, standing up from his seat. "We are going to test that now." He continues, giving Ryven a bright grin.
For some reason, he could feel it again. The itch. As Michael begins to search his jacket pocket, the itch continues to grow and grow.
Pulling out a knife, Michael bites his lower lip before his deliberately slow steps turn into an all out charge.
The itch maddens and burns, flaring violently as if something beneath his skin was calling.
Without much thinking, Ryven turns, scratching at the air, right where it burns.
The air seems to shimmer a little as Ryven's finger cut like light through water.
And from it, a large and heavy, single edged curved blade is pulled.
Michael stops dead in his rush , the knife held steady in his hand, the point of Ryven's Odachi being mere inches away from Michael's chest.
For a moment, neither of them move. The room is silent again, save for the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and Ryven's heavy breathing.
Michael blinks, the grin fading into something unreadable.
"Well," he murmurs, lowering his knife slowly, "I suppose that answers the question."
He stands there for a moment, motionless, seemingly admiring the Odachi's dark blade.
"Holy shit! You were trying to kill me!" Ryven screams, slowly lowering the heavy weapon into his lap.
"I wasn't going to actually attack you." Michael snarls.
"That's just how we verify that those in your situation have actually become dreamers."
He sighs, seeing Ryven's untrusting look.
"If you hadn't done anything, you know I wouldn't have actually stabbed you, right?"
"Sure," Ryven says playfully.
Michael exhales through his nose, the tension finally bleeding from his shoulders. He slips the knife back into his coat pocket and straightens his tie as if the past thirty seconds hadn't just nearly ended in blood.
"Alright," he says briskly, tone snapping back to that same bureaucratic calm. "I'll have to send in my report and get your file transferred to the Dreamer Division." He glances at Ryven's still-trembling hands gripping the odachi. "And maybe request a reinforced room for our next few sessions."
"Sessions?" Ryven asks intently.
"Mhm. You didn't think you were done with me just yet, did you? The government still needs to monitor you, making sure you aren't a threat, and see if you have any usefulness."
"And that job falls to you?"
"Depressingly so. It all falls down to the officer who first discovered the dreamer." He says, turning off the audio recorder.
"Now, I have one final question." He tells Ryven, walking over toward the window on his left.
"You have two options. Would you like me to help enroll you into an institution built to create powerful dreamers under government, or would you rather me request a tutor to teach you the ropes, and help you survive?"
Ryven stares at Michael's back, the man's silhouette framed by the window's cold light. The odachi's weight lingers in his lap like a question he doesn't know how to answer.
"Institution?" Ryven finally says, his voice cutting through the stillness. "What exactly does that entail?"
Michael doesn't turn right away. His gaze stays fixed on the faint cityscape outside, where fog rolls lazily over the concrete skyline. When he does speak, his tone is measured, almost detached.
"Well," he begins, "the Somnium Institute is where the government sends newly awakened dreamers in this sector. There, they study you, searching for what your power is, your ability, and whether or not you have too much power that you are given a weakness."
"Huh. That doesn't seem to bad." Ryven mutters.
"There however, you are also given tons of benefits, and even an allowance, yet are linked to the government, expected to follow their commands, and complete their missions."
Ryven blinks slowly, realizing what he's really hearing. "So they would be preparing me as a weapon?"
Michael's silence is answer enough.
Ryven lets out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Yeah… that all sounded a bit too much to be true."
He runs a hand through his hair, the Odachi turning into a faint shimmer of dust and light.
"Woah he mutters."
He lost focus for just a few moments, and the weapon just disappeared.
"What about the tutor?" He asks, ignoring what just happened.
"Well… you will meet an alumni who graduated from a government sponsored school, most likely from the Somnium institute as they are the only state sponsored school in sector 7."
"Are they just a random graduate?" Ryven asks.
"No, not at all random. They go through various programs and tests, trained to be like actual teachers. It is actually required for people to take on people to tutor and train before becoming a teacher for a dreamer." He adds on.
"If you pick them, the government will give you a small stipend, and they will be required to teach you for a decent amount of hours every week. You can still live at home and go to your normal school, things like that, but you will still be monitored by the government through the tutor who will help evaluate whether or not you have lots of potential."
"Mmm" Ryven strokes his chin. "That seems a lot better as I'll be able to stay at home with my family, and not be as controlled by the government." Ryven says. "I'll definitely take the tutor. And who knows, hopefully they'll be a lot less tabby."
Michael smirks faintly. "Figures." He mutters, pulling out a data pad. "I'll file the request and you should be able to meet your new tutor in a matter of hours. I will run this all down with your family before letting them back in so they get the gist of what's happening." He tells Ryven, walking toward the door.
"I hope to see more of you again."