Amaya looked at him again.
The man stood near the lower tier now, listening to a conversation she wasn’t part of. He nodded once, hands still in his pockets, posture careful. Like someone trying not to take up space.
She approached the way a Dreamer approached another Dreamer here—slow, casual, deliberately non-invasive.
“Hey,” she said.
He turned, surprised but not alarmed.
“Hey,” he replied. His voice was ordinary. Warm. “You just get here too?”
Amaya nodded. “Recently.”
“Same.” He glanced around the Arena, then back at her. “This place is… bigger than I expected.”
“That’s one word for it.”
He smiled faintly. “I thought it was just me for a while. Then suddenly—” He gestured vaguely at the tiers. “Everyone.”
Amaya felt the familiar tightening in her chest. She kept her expression neutral.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked.
He hesitated. “Not really. Some kind of next phase, I guess. After the bets. The fights. I’m not sure.”
“The betting,” Amaya said carefully.
“Yeah. That.” His brow furrowed. “Those things felt real, didn’t they?”
She didn’t answer.
Before the silence could stretch, the air shifted.
A chime rang out—bright, melodic, unmistakably intentional.
Every conversation faltered.
Something small zipped overhead, leaving a faint trail of light like chalk dust in the air. It looped twice before hovering above the center of the Arena.
It was… cute.
That was the unsettling part.
A winged mascot with a round body, oversized eyes, and a soft pastel glow. Its wings fluttered with mechanical precision, emitting a gentle hum. Its smile was wide—too expressive. Its movements were just a fraction too smooth.
“Welcome, Dreamers!” it chirped.
The Arena fell silent.
Amaya’s stomach dropped.
The mascot spun midair, scattering shimmering particles that faded before touching the ground.
“Welcome to the place where your wants can become reality!”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
A ripple of murmurs followed.
“This is the Lattice Arena!”
The name landed heavily.
The mascot clasped its tiny hands together. “Here, you will be matched with fellow Dreamers in structured engagements designed to help you grow, synchronize, and uplift!”
“Fights?” someone called.
“Engagements!” the mascot replied brightly.
“You mean combat,” another voice said.
The mascot laughed—a soft, bell-like sound. “Think of it however you like!”
Amaya scanned the crowd. Unease flickered across some faces. Others leaned forward, curiosity winning.
“Dream Points will be accumulated with each successful engagement!” the mascot continued. “Win, and your points increase! Lose, and you’ll learn!”
“Learn what?” someone asked.
The mascot hovered closer. “Resilience!”
A pause.
“And if someone loses completely?” Amaya asked.
The mascot’s wings slowed—only for a heartbeat.
“The engagement concludes,” it said. “And both Dreamers return safely.”
“Safely where?”
“To reality, of course!”
A murmur of relief followed.
“No one dies in reality,” the mascot added gently. “This is a dream construct. You may feel pain, but it will not follow you home.”
The man beside Amaya exhaled. “Okay. That’s… okay, then.”
She didn’t respond.
Matches began that same cycle.
The Arena rearranged itself—stone shifting, tiers opening, corridors sealing. Pairs stepped forward. Some eager. Some pale.
Amaya watched.
The fights were brutal but contained. Weapons manifested. Bodies collided. When one Dreamer fell and could not rise, the match ended. Both vanished in soft light.
They returned later.
Laughing. Comparing fading injuries. Boasting about points.
Confidence grew.
Normalization followed.
This was the flow now, wake up everyday into the arena , interact with others. Participate in system matches.
Amaya once thought she saw Airi engaged in a match but how could Airi be here. She ignored the thought.
Another day inside the arena.
This time though before the matches could begin
A shout cut through the noise.
Two figures pushed through an outer passage—not summoned, not announced.
One was shaking.
Not fear.
Rage.
“You said this doesn’t kill us!” the man shouted. “You said it wasn’t real!”
“You lied!” the second Dreamer yelled.
The Arena froze.
The mascot hovered above the center. “What seems to be the problem?”
“My brother,” the standing Dreamer said, voice breaking. “He fought yesterday. He didn’t come back.”
“That’s not possible,” someone whispered.
“He’s dead,” the man said. “I woke up. He didn’t.”
Silence crashed down.
“And when I asked where he was,” he continued, shaking, “they asked me—Axel who? They said my brother Zion was out for class.”
“Who the fuck is Zion?” he screamed.
The word struck Amaya like a blow.
Zion.
A distant Memory snapped into place.
"Oh—you know Leon? Wait a second, he just stepped out for formalities. He’ll be back soon
No longer Akai. But Leon."
“They keep telling me Zion has always been there,” the man sobbed. “That Axel never existed.”
“I know my brother,” he whispered. “I know how he chewed. I know what he hated.”
People backed away.
“I remember fighting him,” someone said weakly. “Axel. I think.”
“No,” another snapped, terrified.
The mascot rose higher. “Dreamers, please remain calm. Lattice integrity—”
“Shut up!”
“They’re erasing us,” the man whispered. “And we helped them.”
Hands stared back at their owners.
“I voted,” someone said. “I bet.”
“I cheered,” another whispered.
The Arena was no longer a gathering.
It was a crime scene.
Amaya stood frozen.
This wasn’t death.
It was removal.
Akai hadn’t disappeared.
He had been replaced.
His want fulfilled. His existence erased.
The mascot’s smile fractured, its form warping—cute lines melting into something unfinished.
A system ping echoed.
Mass Rollout: Phase 1 Initiated
Lattice Exit: Disabled
Initiating: Mass PK Activity
The mascot’s voice dropped, hollow.
“Dreamers. Uplift your reality. Accumulate points. No Dreamer may return until their want is fulfilled… or another Dreamer is erased.”
Sleep lock engaged.
The crowd understood at once.
This wasn’t a game.
This was permanence.
And they could no longer leave.
