Real Dream: Infinity

A girl walked into the classroom with firm, steady steps, as if time held no urgency for her. Aurora Langley. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves down to the middle of her back, shining under the room's dim artificial light. Her delicate features, almost sculpted, gave her an ethereal beauty, and her light blue eyes seemed to see beyond what lay before her.

There was something about her demeanor that made her stand out, even though it wasn't her intention. She didn't smile, nor did she appear distant; she simply was. Her presence was flawless, as if nothing could faze her, yet it wasn't ostentatious. It was an innate quality, an essential part of her being.

Aurora headed toward the front of the classroom, where she always sat, near the window. The light barely reached her desk, but that corner seemed made for her: isolated yet surrounded by the liveliest group in the class. It was as if an invisible barrier kept her separate, even while she was physically close to them.

William watched her for a moment longer than usual, something he rarely did with anyone. Although they shared one trait in common—the tendency to stay on the sidelines—the way Aurora did it was different. While he chose anonymity, she seemed to exert a natural isolation, one that others accepted without question.

"She's… odd," he thought. But not in a negative sense. She simply didn't fit in, and she seemed perfectly fine with that.

Sometime later, William found himself walking toward the cafeteria. The hallway was full of students, all talking, laughing, or checking their smartwatches. Each of these devices, known as Nexus, projected personalized holographic screens that floated in front of their users. Some browsed messages, others read the news, and some played videos that seemed to compete in volume with the general commotion.

Entering the cafeteria, the noise multiplied. The space was expansive, with a high ceiling decorated with luxyn panels that simulated a clear sky. The minimalist design of the tables scattered across the room reflected the technological efficiency of the institute. Each table had a small integrated screen to access the day's menu or reserve seating.

On the left side, a line of students moved quickly past a series of automated terminals. Each terminal featured a touch screen and a scanner for the Nexus. Students waved their wrists in front of the scanners to confirm their identity and select their orders. Trays, delivered by robotic arms from a hidden system, appeared with precision.

William paused for a moment to observe the steady flow of activity. Some students chatted animatedly as they waited, while others focused intently on their smartwatches, completely oblivious to their surroundings. The omnipresent technology seemed to be an extension of themselves.

He approached one of the terminals and swiped his Nexus across the scanner. A holographic screen appeared, displaying an extensive list of food options. The system's artificial voice greeted him in a neutral tone:

"Welcome, William Alden." Please select your order.

William chose something simple: an energy drink and a sandwich. The machine confirmed his selection, and seconds later, a robotic arm placed his tray in the pickup compartment.

With his food in hand, he searched for a secluded spot to sit. As he walked through the cafeteria, his gaze wandered across the tables filled with students. Everyone seemed to have a purpose, something that kept them moving, talking, or connecting.

William chewed his sandwich slowly in a corner of the cafeteria, his gaze lost in the distance. The metallic tray rested before him, his half-finished energy drink beside it. The distant hum of voices barely reached his awareness. The room, bustling with activity, buzzed with the constant murmur of intertwined conversations, isolated laughter, and the soft clink of trays hitting tables. Without paying much attention, William contemplated the orderly chaos around him, though to him, it felt like he was in a different reality.

From his position, he could see the high ceiling with panels simulating a clear sky, where virtual clouds floated with artificial slowness. The Nexus devices projected lights and holograms all around, creating intermittent flashes on the faces of students who were too engrossed in their screens to even glance at one another.

William took another sip of his drink, catching fragments of conversation from the nearest table without intending to. A loud, confident voice caught his attention, making him raise his gaze slightly.

"No, seriously!," a male voice exclaimed. "I'm telling you, an Emergent killed a Reaper."

The comment snapped him out of his stupor. William turned his head slightly and spotted the group. Five students sat around a table. At the center of the group, one boy stood out: he had bright red hair, a shade so vivid it seemed to reflect the light from the virtual panels. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, speaking energetically and clearly enjoying the attention of his friends.

"An Emergent killed a Reaper?" asked one of the boys, a dark-haired student with perfectly combed hair and square glasses. "How did that happen?"

"No idea!," the redhead replied, shrugging theatrically. "But they say it happened yesterday. The Reaper ran into the guy by accident, and the Emergent… boom! Took him out. Just like that."

"It must've been an accident." interjected a blonde girl with pigtails, twirling a pen between her fingers. "Reapers are trained war machines. They don't go down that easily."

"That's what they say, but the guy lost pathetically." the redhead said with a mocking click of his tongue. He leaned back in his chair, balancing on its back legs. "I'd bet anything it was one of those Reapers who only shows up in Dominion or something. A rookie."

The others let out faint laughs, though their expressions still held some unease.

"Listen to this," the redhead continued confidently. "If that Reaper came after me, even I'd put up a fight. Seriously! If I were an Emergent in his place, that Reaper wouldn't even have had the chance to lift a finger."

William slammed his drink onto the table with a dull thud. His expression darkened, and with the same calm demeanor as always, he stood up from his seat. Each step he took was firm yet silent, his movements barely making a sound on the cafeteria's polished floor.

As he approached the red-haired boy, who was still speaking with exaggerated arrogance, the group noticed his presence, and their voices faded into an uneasy silence. The redhead, still seated, turned his head and blinked in surprise as he found William standing beside him.

"Oh, yeah? You?" William's voice was low but perfectly audible, and a crooked smile briefly crossed his face. His gaze swept over the boy, head to toe, stopping deliberately on his arms, which, though toned, were nothing more than average for a student. "Tsk. You wouldn't beat a Reaper even if you had three lives with those puny arms."

The laughter and chatter died instantly, as if cut off. The other students at the table looked at the redhead with expectant, tense expressions. Indignant, the redhead stood abruptly, trying to assert himself in front of William. But as soon as they stood face-to-face, the reality became clear: William was taller, broader in the shoulders, and his cold, direct stare carried a weight that made the redhead hesitate for just a moment.

"This guy…" thought the redhead, feeling his confidence waver.

Still, he tried to hold his ground, clenching his jaw and keeping his gaze locked on William. However, the instant his eyes flickered away—just for a fraction of a second—William clicked his tongue.

"At least try Dominion before you talk, idiot." William said indifferently, as if it wasn't even worth getting angry. He turned and began walking away between the tables, ignoring the curious gazes that had started to focus on the scene.

The redhead's group remained frozen, unsure of what to say or do. The redhead sat back down, muttering something under his breath, frowning.

As William headed toward the exit, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Ahh, I shouldn't have said anything…" he thought, irritated with himself.

But it's frustrating

Just as he was about to cross the automatic doors, a voice, barely a whisper yet so clear it felt like it was spoken right beside him, stopped him in his tracks.

"Trying to act cool again?"

William turned his head slightly and saw Naomi Fers standing next to a metallic column. Her gaze was fixed on the cafeteria, as if he didn't even exist. Her smart glasses glowed faintly with projected data, and a pink strand of her hair fell across her face, though she made no effort to brush it aside.

William observed her for a moment, waiting for another word, a gesture… something. But Naomi simply ignored his presence with surgical precision, as though she hadn't spoken at all.

He swallowed hard, feeling an unexpected weight in his chest, and then continued walking toward the exit without saying a word.

"Why did I say anything?" he scolded himself silently, his thoughts spinning chaotically in his mind. This is stupid.

The cafeteria noise faded behind him, but that last phrase echoed persistently in his head.

***

Aurora watched everything from her usual spot—always somewhat apart but ever-present. Her clear eyes, filled with serene curiosity, followed every movement and word as if weaving an invisible thread between the participants. Even when Naomi murmured that comment softly, Aurora heard it clearly, being right beside her.

"Why did you say that to him?" Aurora asked in her usual soft but clear voice, breaking her habitual lack of expression. Her tone wasn't accusatory or particularly friendly; it was simply curious.

Naomi turned toward her, slightly surprised. This new girl, who wore the standard Helion uniform and seemed like a silent specter in class, didn't usually speak much. She had no discernible expression on her face, and her gaze was hard to read—like a calm, unfathomable sea.

"Mmm, you wouldn't know because you're new here," Naomi replied, her tone slightly more relaxed but tinged with melancholy. "He wasn't always like this. He used to hang out with our group. He was charismatic and outgoing... even his grades in some areas were better than mine at times."

Naomi spoke with a hint of nostalgia, as if the memories weighed heavier than she would have liked to admit. Her eyes drifted slightly toward William's figure as it disappeared into the distance.

"But one day, he just stopped talking to us and drifted away. I don't know what's wrong with him... " Her last sentence sounded like an involuntary confession, muttered more to herself than to Aurora. "He thinks he's better than us."

Her gaze reflected complex emotions: anger, frustration... and something resembling pain. Aurora watched her attentively. That story intrigued her, though she didn't show it. She shifted her eyes toward William, who walked away like a shadow, disconnected from the world around him.

"He thinks he's better than us..." Aurora thought, though she didn't believe that was the real reason. The way he walked, with his shoulders slightly slumped and his gaze always fixed on the ground or some distant point, told a different story. Something was broken in him.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Naomi continued with a dismissive gesture, as if trying to close the topic for good. "He doesn't want anything to do with anyone. Just ignore him."

"Okay." Aurora replied in her usual monotone voice, though her curiosity had grown even more.

She bid Naomi goodbye with a small gesture and started walking toward the stairs, where she stopped for a moment. She clumsily pulled out her Nexus. She still wasn't entirely used to the technology of this place. After a couple of failed attempts, she managed to search for William Alden's profile.

When the image appeared on the screen, Aurora blinked slowly, observing every detail as if she were studying an old portrait.

The photo showed a 17-year-old boy with a calm yet distant expression. His features were sharp but not overly defined, striking a delicate balance between youth and maturity. His disheveled golden hair caught her attention. It was an unusual color, a dull gold, almost devoid of the brightness it should have had. But what stood out the most were his eyes: bright brown, a warm and deep color, yet completely hollow, devoid of any emotion.

Aurora furrowed her brow slightly. That contrast unsettled her.

How could someone have eyes so vivid and yet seem so dead inside?

She scrolled down a bit further on the screen, and basic personal details appeared:

Name: William Alden

Date of Birth: January 4

Height: 1.78m

Year: Third Year, Section B

Residence: Luminary District, Luminia

Aurora jumped slightly in place when she read the last part.

"Luminary!?" she murmured to herself, surprised.

It wasn't unusual for someone at the institute to live in Luminia—it was one of the most expensive and exclusive areas, though not entirely inaccessible. However, the Luminary District was different. It was the area closest to the Dominion venue!

"This guy must be rich," Aurora thought, with a slight grimace. She herself, though from Etheron—a relatively prosperous Helios Tech colony—still understood the fanaticism of Aetheris's people for Dominion and had never met anyone who could afford to live in the Luminary District.

She closed the Nexus, but the sense of intrigue remained. Why would someone with a life that seemed so privileged carry that disconnected look, as if the world had nothing left to offer him?

Putting the device away, Aurora decided to head to the library. Maybe studying a bit before class would help distract her, though the image of William continued to linger in her mind.