Leo wakes before he realises he’s awake.
The room is dark, except for the faint orange glow leaking from the corner where Kam sleeps. It pulses softly, slow and steady, like a heartbeat trapped under a blanket. The air is warm. Too warm. The radiator is cold.
Leo sits up, rubbing his eyes.
His sleeping bag is half-unzipped, twisted around his legs. He hears Kam’s breathing before he fully sees him.
Slow.
Heavy.
Almost mechanical.
Leo pushes his glasses up his nose and squints.
Kam lies on his side, hoodie half off, left arm exposed. Beneath the skin, the lining flickers with a dull, molten light. Steam curls from his wrist in thin threads, rising only a short distance before dissolving.
Leo’s stomach tightens.
He knows what this means.
He knows what the Guild said.
He knows what Vance implied.
Kam is dreaming.
And when Kam dreams, the system listens.
---
Inside the dream
Kam stands on a plain of metal.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Endless.
Forged.
Alive.
Heat rolls off him in visible waves, bending the air. His left arm is no longer wrapped in crude shielding. It is perfect now. A seamless sheath of living metal, flowing like mercury, glowing white-hot at the joints.
He feels strong.
Whole.
Like the version of himself he keeps reaching for when he’s awake and never quite touching.
The Guild stands before him.
Not as people.
As silhouettes of armour and geometry. Weapons shaped from intention rather than steel.
Vance steps forward, visor reflecting Kam’s glow.
“Demonstrate control.”
Kam raises his arm.
The metal responds instantly. Blade. Hammer. Then something that has no name, a weapon that only exists because the dream allows it to.
He moves.
Heat detonates.
Steel bends.
The Guild shatters beneath his strikes, armour splitting like glass left too long in a furnace.
Kam feels unstoppable.
He feels like he could protect everyone.
He feels like he could protect—
---
Back in the room
Leo flinches.
Kam’s fingers twitch, curling into a fist. The heat spikes. The air ripples outward.
Leo crawls closer, careful, deliberate. He reaches a hand toward Kam’s shoulder, stopping just short of contact.
The heat radiating off him is climbing.
Too fast.
Leo whispers, barely audible, “Kam… hey. You’re overheating.”
Kam doesn’t stir.
His breathing deepens, chest rising and falling like a bellows feeding a forge.
Leo glances toward the sofa.
Taylor is asleep there, one arm hanging over the edge, mouth slightly open. Peaceful. Unaware. Alive.
Leo swallows.
A cold thought slips into his mind, unwanted and sharp.
Taylor won’t always be there to wake up.
He forces it away.
Focus.
---
Inside the dream
Kam swings again.
The metal plain fractures outward in glowing lines. The Guild stumbles back, armour melting, weapons dissolving into sparks.
Only one figure remains.
Not Vance.
Not the Guild.
Taylor.
Standing at the far end of the plain, hands empty, hoodie snapping in the heat-wind.
Kam freezes.
“Move,” Taylor says.
Kam tries to answer. The dream locks his jaw.
Taylor steps closer.
The heat surges, uncontrolled now. The metal along Kam’s arm brightens toward white.
Taylor keeps walking.
“Kam,” he says. “You’re burning through everything.”
Kam tries to pull the heat back.
Tries to cool the metal.
Tries to stop.
The dream refuses.
Taylor reaches him.
The world cracks.
---
Back in the room
Kam jerks violently.
Leo grabs his wrist and instantly regrets it. The heat bites like a stovetop. He yanks his hand back, shaking it, breath hitching.
“Kam. Wake up!”
Kam doesn’t wake.
The glow intensifies, pulsing like a warning light. Steam thickens. The temperature climbs.
Leo looks at Taylor again.
Still asleep.
Still oblivious.
Still safe.
For now.
Leo whispers, his voice unsteady, “Please don’t burn out. Please don’t… leave us.”
He isn’t sure who he’s speaking to anymore.
Kam.
The system.
The dream.
The future.
---
Inside the dream
The metal plain collapses inward.
Heat roars.
Taylor dissolves into white light.
Kam reaches for him, too late, as the world folds in on itself like steel cooling too fast.
One word echoes through the collapse.
A system word.
A judgement.
“Risk.”
