Finally, the two had reached the gathering of other Awakened, Steven instinctively falling behind Richard as the man led him along the side of the crowd and steadily toward the front of the group.

At the edges of the gathering stood several personnel who closely resembled the guards stationed at the hotel earlier, positioned with calculated precision around the mass of people. Their presence was clearly meant to curb disorder and control the growing size of the crowd, as there was a noticeable number of Awakened present—far more than Steven had initially expected.

And then, as they drew closer to the front where Steven could finally make out the leading figures, Richard halted abruptly and raised a hand, stopping him. With a brief nod, he urged Steven to merge into the crowd instead. Steven had no complaints and did exactly as instructed.

Richard continued forward alone, approaching a woman standing at the forefront of the group. She was reading through a list clutched in her hands, her expression sharp and professional. When Richard reached her, he leaned in and whispered a few words. The woman responded almost immediately, and the two soon appeared to be engaged in a surprisingly pleasant conversation.

Steven watched the interaction with a slow roll of his eyes.

"For love’s sake... is he hitting on the instructor?" he grumbled to himself before tearing his gaze away and turning his attention toward the other Awakened gathered around him.

The entire crowd was rowdy, people mingling freely, voices overlapping, laughter ringing out. Many of them had only just met, yet they spoke to one another as though they were childhood playmates reunited after a decade apart.

Steven exhaled sharply at the eerie sight of human relationships forming so effortlessly.

"Most of this shit isn’t even real to begin with," he cursed inwardly, his expression darkening.

As he scanned and silently mocked each cluster of people, his attention was eventually drawn to a particular group where several individuals were animatedly discussing their experiences within the Realm of Entry.

This immediately intrigued Steven.

Without hesitation, he drifted closer, careful not to draw attention to himself, intent on overhearing their stories. The Realm of Entry had haunted his thoughts ever since his own descent into the hellish dungeons of the Fated Colosseum.

Could their experiences be similar?

More treacherous? More twisted?

Something that could rival the sickness of his own journey?

Apparently... not.

After listening for only a few seconds, Steven found the stories dull, mind-numbing, even. One spoke proudly of saving a child trapped beneath a massive tree near the edge of a cliff and receiving a sponsor as a reward. Another bragged about assassinating a drunk man in a bar and merely needing to escape afterward to claim his sponsorship. The third story was the most insulting of all—a contest of painting.

How mundane.

Steven fought the urge to physically cover his ears. He was already preparing to dive deeper into the crowd, desperate to escape the painfully boring encounters of these Awakened fools—

When something caught his attention.

A voice confident, steady, and sharp, cut cleanly through the laughter and shallow excitement of the group. The noise dimmed as a girl stepped forward.

She had long black hair cascading down her back, her posture straight, her face carved with unwavering resolve. Her eyes were narrowed eyes that looked like they had grown accustomed to bloodshed, suffering, and survival. From the moment she began to speak, it was clear she had grown tired of the others’ meager experiences and had decided to share her own instead.

"When I was in the Realm, I was placed in the harbor of an old city, not as a worker, not as a citizen, but as a slave," she said. "Chained and gagged, I was loaded onto a ship alongside countless others. We were being transported to be sold to a crude empire."

Her voice never wavered.

"On that journey, I was taught what true suffering was—hunger, despair, and the real worth of human life."

She clenched her fist tightly, knuckles whitening, then slowly unfurled her palm as if releasing something invisible.

"Nothingness."

Steven was completely drawn in now, his eyes glinting faintly as his mind painted page after page of her journey. Something deep within him stirred, this wasn’t like the others. This story felt fated.

"Then a storm came," she continued. "And with it, a sea beast. A serpent-like Disaster, its entire body slick and coated in poisonous mucus. Its mouths were filled with rows upon rows of jagged teeth."

A murmur rippled through the listeners.

"It destroyed our ship. Killed everyone."

She paused.

"All but me."

"I was shipwrecked onto a small island—or more accurately, an obsidian rock. It could barely hold twenty people. There was no food. No shelter. No sign of civilization as far as the eye could see."

"Before me stretched a blood-red sea, reaching to the very edge of the world."

Her voice softened, though the weight behind it only grew heavier.

"For a time, I remained there alone... withering away. Each second drove me closer to madness, until I finally had enough."

"I chose to face my fear. I stepped into the gnawing wind of my inevitable doom."

She inhaled slowly.

"I walked into the crimson coral waters, leaving behind the false protection of the rock and placing myself at the mercy of the sea beast."

"I didn’t need to alert it. Just as I had been waiting for help to find me, it had been patiently waiting for my foolish attempt to escape."

"It attacked me."

"And nearly killed me."

She stopped then, her expression darkening as dreadful memories flashed behind her eyes. After a moment, she continued quietly,

"My sponsor intervened... pulling me from that ruthless nightmare before death could claim me."

The story ended there, then Silence followed.

The entire group stood frozen, processing the immense gap between their own tales and the girl’s trauma. Their earlier laughter now felt hollow, their stories embarrassingly luxurious in comparison.

Steven’s lips curled slightly, not in mockery, but in appreciation.

’Bravo... Bravo. Almost as good as my own story. Too bad I can’t go around bragging about killing a stupid Deity and a Disaster. I’d probably be labeled mad.’

He sighed, expecting the group to erupt into renewed conversation.

But nothing came.

Sweat slowly formed on the brows of those who hadn’t shared yet. No one dared speak now. No one could compete.

Steven exhaled softly. It was probably time to move on.

Before he could take a step, a loud voice thundered across the gathering, silencing every Awakened present.

At the front, the instructor stood with both hands raised, commanding attention as he spoke,

"Listen up! I will now begin the briefing."