<hr>


    <h4>Week 2 - Mental Training</h4>


    The birds resumed their morning song as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the eastern horizon, marking the beginning of Riden’s second week of training. This was the week dedicated to mental endurance. Dran had prepared a series of simulations, designed to test Riden’s ability to navigate adversity and remain in control under extreme conditions.


    This time, Dran made sure to fine-tune the simulation depth, ensuring there would be no unfortunate incidents like before. "I''ve adjusted everything properly this time, so you don’t have to worry, kid," he assured.


    Riden gave a small nod. The InZen Device was placed on his head once more, and with a soft hum, it activated...


    <hr>


    Inside the Simulation


    I opened my eyes.


    An endless desert stretched before me, the sun beating down mercilessly. The air shimmered with heat, and an immediate wave of exhaustion, thirst, and hunger struck me like a tidal wave.


    I walked. Without direction. Without purpose.


    Time passed—an uncountable eternity of footsteps sinking into the scorching sand. The sky never changed, an eternal, burning abyss above my head. Hours turned to days, days into weeks, weeks into months... and then, into years.


    Ten years.


    I had spent a decade in this hellish wasteland, without food, without water, without hope. My mind eroded like the dunes shifting beneath my feet. Was this real? Wasn’t this how my life had always been? Had I ever known anything beyond this unending suffering?


    I collapsed.


    In front of me, a shadow appeared—a broken figure of a man, his body battered beyond recognition. His right arm was gone, one of his eyes blind, his leg dragging limply across the sand.


    And yet… his face.


    It was me.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    His lips moved, forming words I could barely comprehend.


    W-a-k-e u-p, R-i-d-e-n!


    A shock ran through me.


    This... this isn’t real. This is a simulation.


    Then—if this was merely an illusion born from my mind, what if… I could control my own mind?


    I closed my eyes and whispered to myself.


    Wake up. Wake up. Wake up…


    <hr>


    The Real World


    Dran sat in his chair, observing Riden through the flickering lights of the simulation console.


    Arden stood beside him, worry etched into his features. "Sir, isn’t this too dangerous? Even official exams don’t push candidates to this extreme."


    Dran smirked, his gaze locked onto the screen. "He needs to prove his worth. At the very least, he must make it into the top 1,000 graduates."


    Arden let out a slow breath. "Sir, even if he barely passes, that would still place him above 60% of humanity in the entire continent of Eldoria, since only 10% throught the tes."


    Dran didn’t respond. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.


    Then, suddenly—


    "Success."


    The simulation system displayed the result, but next to the completion percentage, something unusual appeared.


    (error)


    Dran’s smile vanished. He stood up instantly, swiftly removing the InZen Device from Riden''s head. With a firm shake, he called out,


    "Kid, are you awake?"


    Slowly, Riden’s eyelids fluttered open. A small smile touched his lips.


    "Yes… It felt like a dream that lasted forever."


    Dran let out a soft chuckle, while Arden quickly checked the Oid Machine for the recorded simulation duration.


    The moment his eyes landed on the numbers, his hands trembled.


    "Wait… in just five minutes in the real world… he spent 10 years and 9 months inside the simulation?!"


    Without hesitation, he turned the screen towards Dran.


    Dran, upon seeing the impossible result, burst into laughter—an unusual, high-pitched, almost delightedly twisted laughter.


    "There are only two possible explanations for this…" He took a deep breath, his lips curling into a knowing grin. "And I am certain that one of them means this child is a one-in-a-millennium genius!"


    Arden fell silent, the weight of the moment sinking in. He knew full well—Dran might be someone who used people, but in the end, those he used always walked away with far more than they had ever imagined.


    <hr>


    That Night


    Dran sat comfortably, sipping on a cup of tea Arden had prepared. A faint, satisfied smile played on his lips as he mused,


    "Arden, it seems the gods are still on my side."


    Arden returned a small smile, feeling a flicker of pride at his master’s rare moment of joy.


    And yet… beneath that pride, something else stirred within him. A strange mixture of unease and anticipation.


    His gaze lingered on his master, and in the depths of his heart, a single thought echoed—


    "Will this truly be the moment? Will the prophecy… finally come true?"


    <hr>