Jack Young sensed that this dream was something out of the ordinary.
Not that it meant anything special—after all, Jack considered himself a seasoned expert in weird dreams. Last time he was the Peach Bandit, this time he’s become Instructor Yang. Honestly, these dreams don’t even feel like dreams to him anymore.
Dreams, usually, are vague—you forget the beginning and the end, and suddenly you find yourself somewhere, naturally accepting a new identity and moving on to whatever comes next.
In dreams, logic doesn’t exist.
Jack’s a bit different. Back in the day, they called him the Prince of Nightmares—not just because he had nightmares all the time, but because he was forced to adapt. He could always tell he was dreaming, kept his logical thinking, and—unlike most people who forget their dreams the moment they wake up—Jack remembered everything, crystal clear.
So when he dreamed of the Peach Bandit charging into Black Dragon Fortress, he wasn’t all that surprised, nor did he think his own performance was anything out of the ordinary.
But this time, sleep felt different. He was keenly aware that this dream was unusual. Instead of just dozing off, it felt like his spirit was being summoned—his whole consciousness sinking into someplace strange.
If you want to get all mystical about it, you’d call it the Sea of Consciousness.
He felt himself being pulled into a bizarre mental space, with no blackout or loss of awareness—he just arrived, as naturally as taking a walk.
It was an ancient battlefield. Soldiers from both sides were locked in combat. Collapsed wooden frames burned fiercely, flames lighting up half the sky. Both armies were desperate to kill each other, blades flashing coldly, murderous intent thick as smoke.