An underground facility in the long destroyed Europe.
"Please..! S-stop!" A child cried out as hard punches landed on his face continuously, blood leaked from his nose, his face battered and beaten to a pulp.
On top of him, was another child. Both of them were barely five years old.
The child on top did not stop ramming his fists to the other kids face, his golden eyes shone behind his ruffled pale blonde hair, they bore no hints of mercy or remorse.
They were in the middle of an arena.
Vast and circular, it was carved from reinforced stone and metal, its walls smoothed and shaped with deliberate care rather than necessity. Cold light spilled from recessed luminance panels embedded high above, bathing the space in a pale, artificial glow that never quite reached the corners.
The floor of the arena was pristine despite its purpose, polished obsidian stone veined faintly with silver lines that traced complex geometric patterns beneath the fighters' feet.
Encircling the pit rose tiered platforms of dark marble and steel, arranged like an amphitheater. Velvet-lined seats filled the upper rings, occupied by men and women dressed in immaculate attire: tailored coats, jeweled accessories, pristine gloves untouched by dust or decay. Their faces were lit with excitement, eyes gleaming as they leaned forward, utterly absorbed.
Cheers echoed through the chamber, sharp and eager. Some laughed openly, others applauded with measured amusement, while a few shouted encouragements as though watching trained beasts rather than children. The sound carried a strange warmth, clashing violently with the cold air of the arena below. To them, the cries, the blood, the trembling limbs were not horrors, but entertainment.
Above it all, behind reinforced glass booths, figures stood in shadow, observing silently, until one broke the silence.
"The fifth generation turned out slightly better than the fourth. While the fourth generation only had a handful of monsters, the fifth almost is full of them."
The woman who spoke had a calm and a sultry tone. She had a tall stature, wearing an office skirt alongside a blue blouse, leaving some buttons open. Her hair was violet colored, and she bore sharp features. Her beauty was unordinary.
She was undoubtedly an awakened.
"Yet they still pale in comparison to her."
The man sitting on a luxurious chair spoke. He had handsome features, wearing an expensive suit to improve his looks even more. He bore the aura of an ascended.
"Aren't you a bit too obsessed with her? Sure, she has great talent but there are many more that you could take under your wing. Many talents are starting to show up in the first and second generations as they are getting older."
The man stayed silent for a while, and then spoke up.
"You will see. She will grow up to be a greater talent than those older than her." His eyes darkened as he watched the arena beneath, that blonde kid killed off the other one. "Speaking of which, aren't you going to take one under your wing? As a master, your popularity is falling off, Jane."
Jane did not reply to the man, instead looking down at the arena with a thoughtful expression. The guards came up to retrieve the golden eyed kid, who was now acting rather violent to anyone who dared to come to him. In the end, he was knocked out and dragged away.
"Does that one have a name?" The woman spoke up with an excited tone.
"No."
"A pity, I will be taking him under my wing." She looked back at the man with a smirk. "I will mold him to beat your puppet."
A chuckle left his lips. "I highly doubt that, although I wish you luck. After all, we need some good talents to keep our venues up."
Their conversation ended just like that. The two focused their attention on the arena once again, watching new kids come and fight to death.
***
A young man opened his eyes, stretching slightly in a bed.
His face bore a delicate, androgynous beauty. His features were finely defined. High cheekbones and a slender jaw lending him an air of quiet confidence, neither masculine nor feminine. His hair was a pale blond, washed in warm hues like sunlight filtered through ivory. It fell long and straight, silky and fine, cascading past his shoulders in loose, unbound strands.
His eyes were the most striking feature: pools of molten gold, calm and distant.
The young man propped himself up with his elbows, tossing the sheets away from himself, revealing his naked body. He was toned and lean, a perfect balance of strength and beauty, although some ugly scars marred his pale skin.
Looking at his left, he was a woman sleeping soundly. Formerly, her arms were draped over him, but now that he got up, they were pushed away.
She was naked too.
'Too knocked up huh?' He thought with disdain.
With a sigh, he got up and started to put on the clothes that were discarded on the ground. They weren't much, just some gray and yellow robes that matched his appearance to improve his beauty.
He soon left the luxurious room. Walking down the long corridors, it was most likely early morning so there weren't many people around. It was not long before he reached another corridor, unlike the luxurious one he had left, this one was rather dark and unkempt. Two awakened were guarding the entrance.
The two already knew him, so they let him pass. There were many doors in this dark corridor, although the doors were see through. In each one, a youngster was either waking up and getting ready, or still sleeping.
This place was called the House of Talents.
An organization without a flag or a name known to the public, hidden beneath the ruins of Europe. To the outside world, it was said to shelter what remained of humanity. To those inside, it existed for a single purpose, entertainment.
A peculiar kind of entertainment.
Orphans were gathered, bought, or taken, then trained from an age when they could barely understand pain. As they grew, they were sorted into different sections according to their usefulness. Some were sent to the arena. Others were worked until their bodies failed. And some sold their bodies.
Every child belonged to a master.
To claim ownership, one had to be at least an Awakened. Masters decided where their servants were sent and how they were used. Victories, endurance, obedience: everything was measured, recorded, and scored. The more successful a servant was, the more attention their master received.
Attention became popularity. Popularity became money.
Names were unnecessary.
Children were identified by numbers instead, assigned according to their scores. The higher the number, the higher their standing. Rankings were all that mattered here—because numbers could be compared, traded, and discarded without guilt.
This was the House of Talents.
His name was Seven. Not because he was ranked seventh, but because his previous ranking was seven and he had stalled much in that rank due to some injuries he had sustained a few years back.
Currently he held the second ranking. That was because he was very active in two entertainment sections, the prostitution and the arena. He climbed the ladder rather quickly, but there still a very big gap between him and the person that held the first position.
Seven reached his room, although he stopped at the entrance when he saw the door was already open. A frown marred his pretty features, but he schooled himself and went back to his usual calm one.
"Taking client after client huh?"
Entering the room, he was greeted by a lady with violet colored hair. As always, she wore formal but luxurious clothing. It was Jane, his master. She smirked when she saw him, eyeing his overall appearance. Seven had seen that gaze many times, attraction and lust.
Not waiting for his response, she continued.
"It has been almost a year since Shou had entered the Winter Solstice. A whole year for you to gather as many points as you can, but you have only reached half her score just recently. Tell me, Seven. How does it feel to sell your body, fight to the death almost every single day, only for it to be worth just her half."
Even though she wore a smirk on her face, her tone was sharp and scornful.
Seven's fists clenched at his sides. He hated this Shou person with all his heart, even though he had little interaction with the girl in the past, she had been successful in making his life feel like hell.
He did not care about the first ranking, he cared about what it brought. Fourth, Fifth and Sixth generations members, if they could keep the first title until they were eighteen, they earned freedom.
Seven simply wished for freedom. When Shou had fallen into the winter solstice, he had planned to work even harder and eventually overtake her. But her score was just too high, even if he participated in both entertainment sections, he still couldn't reach her.
Speaking of her winter solstice, it had been almost a year since. And she still has not returned from the dream realm.
His thoughts snapped back to reality as Jane suddenly walked into his close proximity and took his chin in her hand. She seemed to contemplate something before letting go of him.
"There will be a dreamscape survival match. I have signed you up for it. Don't be late, it will begin in an hour."
Seven watched her leave with a contemplative gaze. Keeping his emotions in check was crucial if he wanted to survive in this hell hole. Every mistake he did would be held against him, and the punishments would be advertised as entertainment.
With a sigh, he decided to walk towards the arena section.
***
There weren't many people around in the pod room. Only the contestants and some of them had their masters with them. Not all masters were the same, some were caring, and some treated their servant nothing more than a robot to earn money with.
The distinction was right in front of him. A female master was giving their servant a motivational talk, while another one was barking orders at their own, telling them how they would turn out to be a disgrace if he lost.
Although everyone had gotten quiet once a beautiful young man entered the pod room. His presence drawing attention as everyone in the room focused on his arrival.
Masters looked at him with scorn and disappointment. While some of the servants had either the same look, or simply defeat written all over their faces.
Seven had been dominating the Arena after Shou's leave. So, masters naturally did not like it when their servant got paired up with one of the top contenders.
"Just my luck!" The previously shouting master exclaimed.
"Don't be fooled by his appearance. That guy is a devil!"
Seven did not pay attention to them, he was used to such reactions. He had stopped caring about insults along with praises long ago.
With a calm expression, he discarded his clothes, not caring about his nudity in front of the others. Nudity was not an issue when they had no privacy anyways. He climbed into his pod, watching the gates close and steam slowly fill the pod up. He fell into sleep right after.
***
As Seven opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the middle of a forest.
The first thing he noticed was the air. It was heavier than it should have been, thick and damp as it filled his lungs, carrying the faint scent of wet earth and crushed leaves.
The greenery looked ordinary at first glance, trees and undergrowth no different from those he had seen in old recordings of Earth.
Sunlight struggled to pierce the dense canopy above, broken into thin, pale shafts that barely reached the forest floor. Shadows pooled between the roots, deep and unmoving.
The tournament rules surfaced in his mind without effort. Survive for three days. Beasts would roam the forest, and killing them would grant additional points.
So, Seven got to preparing. He had already formulated a plan.
On the first day, he would make his weapons and essentials.
On the second day, he was going to hunt animals.
And on the third day, he was going to hunt the others and snatch all the points for himself.
Fortunately, he was wearing some tunic and trousers, this was nudity would not hinder him.
The first thing he did was to find a stick that would be befitting of being a spear, it was the easiest weapon to make in the wild, at least for him. After he found it, he started to sharpen the end of it so it was capable of piercing.
Seven made several of these spears, and then he started to gather fiber from dead plants and eventually weaved a bag in a few hours. This bag would allow him to put these spears on his back, ready to be thrown anytime he wanted.
He made arrows using the sticks, sharpening rocks and string. He made about twenty of them along with a bow before stopping, then continuing with a more high quality spear with a sharp rock embedded to its end. If it ever came to close combat with wild animals, he would use this.
And the last thing he made, was a sling. The small rocks he gathered were inside his trousers pocket.
'Finally.'
He looked up. The sun had already set, and it was night. It was time to rest a little.
***
A deer was silently walking through the woods, checking around to find itself food.
However its activity was suddenly cut in half as a crude looking arrow embedded itself into the deer's skull. Killing it on spot.
Seven did not rush.
He waited, counting his breaths as the forest settled back into stillness. Only when nothing moved did he step forward, retrieving the arrow with a practiced twist. He wiped the blood off on the grass and moved on.
A rabbit burst from the undergrowth not long after. Pulling out the sling and loading it with rocks, he released it with great force. The stone struck true, snapping bone and killing the rabbit on spot.
Later, a wild boar crossed his path. It was large, aggressive, and careless. Seven climbed a tree and waited. When it passed beneath him, he dropped, driving the heavy spear down with both hands. The animal screamed and thrashed, but he held on until its strength failed.
Two wolves found him near dusk.
They circled, slow and cautious, testing him. Seven did not back away. He placed his foot behind a root, lowered his center of gravity, and let them come. When the first lunged, his hand immediately reached for his lower back and retrieved a spear. He threw the spear point-first into its throat. The second hesitated for half a second too long. Seven closed the distance and brought a jagged stone down on its skull with all his weight behind it.
By the time the sun dipped lower, he cleaned his weapons carefully, sharpened the stone tips again, and moved deeper into the forest.
That was when he heard it.
Heavy steps. Branches snapping. A low, rumbling breath.
A bear emerged from between the trees. It was massive, fur matted and dark, scars crossing its thick hide. It reared slightly, testing him.
Seven did not panic.
He backed away slowly, guiding it toward uneven ground. When it charged, he threw one spear to distract it, then another to wound the shoulder. The bear roared, pain and fury driving it forward.
When the bear raised its paw to strike, Seven ducked at the last second, rolled beneath its swipe, and drove the final spear upward into the soft flesh beneath its jaw. The impact knocked him back. The bear collapsed, shaking the ground as it fell.
He stayed alert long after it stopped moving.
Only then did Seven sit down, breathing steadily, his hands steady as he cleaned the blood from his weapons.
The second day was done. He had already surpassed the others in terms of scores, and tomorrow he was going to take it all for himself.
***
On the third day, Seven did not waste any time. As soon as the sun rose, he began hunting the others.
He waited beneath the surface of a shallow lake, body pressed into the mud. When one of the contestants waded in to drink, Seven surged upward, locking an arm around their waist and dragging them under. There was no struggle that lasted long. When the water stilled again, Seven was already gone.
By midday, another fell to a sling stone loosed from concealment, the strike precise enough to drop them before they realized they were being watched. A third died in the forest, lured into uneven ground and finished quickly with a spear driven through the back. The fourth tried to run. Seven let them. Fatigue and fear did the work for him, and when he closed the distance, it ended in a single, efficient blow.
He did not linger after any of it. He cleaned his weapons, erased his tracks where he could, and moved on without hesitation.
By the time the tournament was over, Seven was the only one alive.
Usually, the arena fights usually ended up with the other parting losing their lives, since this was a dreamscape tournament, the others were not killed. But they would be facing harsh punishments.
Seven felt his consciousness fading as his gaze suddenly returned to the insides of the pod.
'Huh..?'
Seven suddenly felt really dizzy. It was as if he was going to fall asleep at any moment given.
And he was certainly going to!
His whole word darkened as he lost his consciousness.
And then, in the darkness, a faintly familiar voice rang:
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]