The wind tasted like molten metal.
It was cold, yet unnatural. Its flow drifted through the air like a misremembered thought, and the three of them — Albert, Kaelya, and Leon — stepped through a land that should not exist. The ground was made of shattered mirrors, reflecting the sky — but the sky was not sky, rather an endless arch of frozen clocks.
Every step they took echoed across other worlds.
"We're no longer inside the dream," Kaelya whispered. "And yet... this place feels built from echoes of dreams that never got born."
"Correct," Albert replied, glancing around with his eyes slightly glowing in a yellow hue. "I see the emotions of this place. Fear, regret, unspoken truths."
"Do you know where we are?" Leon asked, gripping his spear tightly.
Albert closed his eyes for a moment. The silence grew heavier.
"The Realm of Delayed Visions," he said. "A space caught between two heartbeats of reality. This is where all revelations arrive too late. All truths that were never accepted in time."
Kaelya drew in a deep breath, placing a hand over her chest.
"I've read about this place. They say those who enter without a clear intention... either lose their memories or become abandoned ideas."
Leon clenched his fists.
"Why did the entity bring us here? What's the purpose?"
Albert stepped forward and, with a slow gesture, traced an invisible line in the air. The space in front of him cracked slightly, revealing a projection — like a memory recorded in another universe. Silhouettes appeared, figures from another past, people who did not exist in their world but carried familiar echoes.
"The entity didn't bring us," said Albert. "The dream hasn't ended. This is the layer beneath it. The correction level. Here we will see what was meant to happen... and what might still be avoided."
Kaelya stepped beside him.
"Then what do we do?"
"We watch. Without interfering. Here, any touch alters the thread of a world yet unborn."
Leon sighed.
"This is the first time I'm afraid that my mere presence might destroy something..."
Albert gave a faint smile.
"Welcome to the realm where thoughts are actions. Where memory shapes matter. Where truth, once seen, can never be forgotten."
The sky of clocks suddenly stirred. One of them — immense, with crystal hands — began to tick for the first time. A long shadow slithered among the ruins of mirrors, and an ancient voice, older than time itself, echoed:
"You came to witness what was never meant to be seen. Then... prepare yourselves. Time will breathe again."
shadows drifting beneath the surface of the fractured mirrors moved like remnants of forgotten time. Each reflection seemed like a memory crushed under its own weight, and within them appeared faces. Some familiar, others impossible to identify. But all of them were staring at Albert.
— "Here, the past isn't fixed," Kaelya whispered. "It rearranges itself depending on who observes it."
Albert gently shook his head. — "It's not just the past. In this realm, every unspoken thought becomes a secondary reality. If you ever regretted something... that something lives here."
— "So all those who died... all the wrong decisions..."
— "They're echoes," he replied. "But sometimes, the echo is louder than the original cry."
Leon stopped suddenly. In one of the broken mirrors, he saw a scene: himself, younger, fleeing a village in flames. On his shoulders, he carried a younger sister. But in the scene reflected in the mirror… he was running alone.
— "A lie..." he muttered through gritted teeth.
— "No. A truth you avoided," Albert said. "A reality you didn't want to accept. If you had failed… that's what would have happened."
Leon lowered his spear for a moment. His hand trembled.
— "Why is it showing us this?"
— "Because we stand at the edge of a decision. In that dream, I chose to move forward. Here, we must understand what we're willing to lose in order to take the next step."
Kaelya closed her eyes. When she opened them again, tears were silently falling. In front of her, a mirror showed an aged version of herself, sitting in an empty temple — without Albert, without Leon, without anyone.
— "Loneliness is the cruelest possibility," she whispered.
Albert said nothing. Instead, he looked up at the sky. The clocks were all beginning to tick in the same rhythm. Time — or something mimicking it — was activating. And with it, an invisible gate opened.
From it, a figure stepped forward.
He appeared as an old man dressed in monk's robes, but from his body, strands of light coiled out, entwining themselves around reality like roots.
— "Are you the ones who walk among unlived truths?" he asked.
Albert stepped forward.
— "We are the ones who do not run from them
Beyond the Eye of the World
In the Remaining Temples of the Eternal Council, a murmur slipped through the curtains of silence. Nine empty chairs — save one — contemplated a map that could only be touched by level 10 consciousnesses. At the center of the map, a blue dot pulsed intermittently, marking the spot where Albert had stepped into the realm of the postponed dream.
One of the Council Members, robed in fabrics woven from undone reality, raised a hand.
— "Albert's presence has begun to reconstruct the torn truth. The dream was incomplete. Now it transforms into a dimensional link."
— "What outcome do you foresee?" asked another member, their voice without tone.
— "If he completes the dream, the entity will become a dimensional anchor node. If he leaves it unfinished, parallel realities may fuse. Instability will become absolute."
— "And if it's a trap?"
— "Albert can turn any trap into a gateway."
Silence returned. But in the hidden part of the hall, a whispered voice — unheard even by the other eight — said:
— "He draws closer. One more step and he will see what even we were forced to forget."
At the same time, in an academy on the Continent of Spirits, a professor paused his lesson as the sky above cracked briefly, then returned to normal.
— "Someone... has opened a door that was meant to stay closed," he murmured, raising his staff inscribed with the Council's symbol.
Elsewhere in the world, on an island where time does not flow, Zhelenya suddenly opened her eyes from meditation.
— "He has entered the dream that dreams back..."
The spirits of the Subconscious World, gathered in a circle of liquid lights, began to vibrate simultaneously.
— "Albert has stepped into the space between 'what could have been' and 'what might yet become'..."
And in the shadow of a mirror without reflection, the Entity smiled.
— "Another barrier falls. Come, limitless being. You are nearly upon me."
As Albert stepped deeper into the dream, he felt reality twisting around his very footsteps. It wasn't just the outer world that shifted — even the memories within him began subtly rewriting themselves, as if the dream itself tried to alter his inner truth. The four-colored sky became a spinning spiral, and the suspended fortress drew nearer — not by movement, but because the entire dimension was collapsing toward it.
Kaelya placed her palm on Leon's shoulder.
— Stay focused. The dream isn't an illusion. If you accept it as real, it becomes real.
— And if I reject it? Leon asked, staring at his spear, which now pulsed faintly, as if absorbing energy from the place.
— Then it rejects you, Albert replied. And you'll become part of it… a forgotten thought.
Ahead of them, the feminine silhouette in light grew clearer. She wasn't human, nor spirit, but her beauty was indescribable. She wore a dress made of mist and memories, and her eyes were like two motionless lakes.
— You stepped in without fear, but my dream is incomplete, she said. My name was lost, but whoever names me again gives me form.
Albert closed his eyes. Just for a moment. Then he whispered:
— Sister of the Abandoned Dream.
The woman trembled slightly, and the sky halted its motion.
— That name hasn't been spoken for... eons.
— I do not come from time, Albert said, opening his eyes, now glowing with the white hue of judgmentless choice. I come from the event that never happened.
The dream-woman smiled.
— Then… can you fix my dream?
Albert stepped forward.
— No. But I can help you remember it.
The ground melted into a sea of symbols, and in the air, a door made of living letters appeared. The woman looked at him with infinite sorrow.
— If you open it, you'll see why I was forgotten.
— And if I don't open it? he asked.
— Then you'll become part of me — a fragment of oblivion.
Albert reached for the handle. Silence. A heartbeat. Then the door opened by itself.
Inside — an entire world, a different one, crumbling quietly. And at its center, another version of Albert… kneeling, holding the lifeless body of a short-haired girl with closed eyes.
Kaelya covered her mouth.
— No…
Leon froze.
— Who is… she?
Albert didn't answer right away. But when his voice came, it trembled:
— She is… the one I refused to save.
— A dream of guilt? Kaelya asked.
— A dream that judges me, Albert replied.
While Albert Faces the Dream
Far from the unstable dream-dimension where Albert wandered, the real world did not remain still.
At the Watcher's Tower, high above the Central Academy's upper ring, several Archmages had gathered in the Observation Hall. Floating sigils pulsed in red and violet above the central globe — an artifact that mirrored reality's integrity. For the first time in centuries, cracks had appeared on its surface.
— Another fracture… but not from this world, murmured Master Ysavar, the Tower's silent guardian.
— Did he cross the Ninth Door already? asked a younger mage, pale with concern.
Ysavar nodded, stroking his beard.
— Not only crossed it. He forced it to show its dream.
In the Sanctuary of the Silent Ones, on the Continent of Smoke, the air became dense as an ancient bell rang, despite no hand touching it. The sound traveled across a thousand dead cities and reached a chamber deep beneath the stone temple. There, a girl with silver hair opened her eyes.
— He touched the Guilt-Dream, she whispered. So… the echoes were real.
A second presence — an invisible one — stirred behind her.
— Do we intervene?
— No. If he survives this, he's no longer one of them. He becomes… something else.
In the Living Archive, beneath the Roots of the Sun-World, the books rearranged themselves. A single tome fell open on its own: The Names of Forgotten Dreams. A figure in shadow reached out and underlined a name that hadn't been visible in over ten thousand cycles:
> Sister of the Abandoned Dream
A whisper followed:
— She was meant to stay forgotten.
And elsewhere — beyond even the known layers of reality — on the Nameless Lake, the surface rippled unnaturally.
The Cloaked Stranger, sitting on the edge of the pier, lifted his hood slightly and stared into the ripples.
— He found her. But will she remember him?
Behind him, a door began to form from the mist — a door not meant for mortals to see.
The dream field began to unravel gradually, not because of instability, but because it had accepted Albert's presence. The air grew heavier, and each step on the strange grass generated a sound that didn't belong to the physical world — a vibration, an echo of meaning.
The fortress of shadows in the distance began drawing closer to them, not through actual movement, but through a subtle transfer of reality. Soon, the three stood on a bridge of light leading directly to the fortress gate.
— This is where the dream ends, Kaelya said. But also where her memory begins.
— Whose memory? asked Leon.
Albert looked ahead, and for a moment, his eyes glowed blue.
— The one who chose to forget she was real.
When they reached the gate, it opened without a sound. Beyond it was no hall, but an infinite white space, where gravity seemed absent. In the center of this space floated a woman with long black hair, her eyes closed, her body covered by a translucent veil of shadows.
— She dreams this world, Albert said quietly. But our world also dreams of her.
Kaelya stepped forward.
— And if she wakes up?
— Then our reality will dissolve into her dream. Or the opposite. Depending on who's stronger.
The woman's eyes opened suddenly. In them was no light, but the complete absence of existence. And yet, there was no hostility. Only recognition.
— I was once called She Who Names, she said. But I lost my name to preserve balance.
Albert bowed his head. — Then I'll step deeper into your dream. Not to change it. But to learn its ending.
The woman closed her eyes again and extended a hand toward him.
— Then, Walker Between Worlds, enter the Truth no one has borne. Only those who no longer dream can survive the end of a broken dream.
And with that touch, reality shattered once more.
The wind in the dream was growing stronger. Though it had felt warm at first, now it carried a strange chill, as if reality itself rejected their presence. The endless field began to crack with fine fractures, and the sky shifted into increasingly murky tones. The fortress of shadows in the distance pulsed like a colossal heart.
Albert stopped walking, scanning his surroundings. "The dream is destabilizing. The entity can no longer sustain it... or perhaps it's testing us."
Leon clenched his jaw, alert to every detail. "It's pushing us toward the center. It wants us there."
Kaelya placed a hand over her heart. "I feel... something familiar. It's not just a dream; it's mingled with a fragment of a future that never existed."
Albert gently shook his head. "Yes. A time born from desire but left unfulfilled. This place is a residue of denied reality. And we're walking along its edges."
At that moment, the ground opened and a colossal being, made of shadows and shattered mirrors, slowly rose. It had eight eyes—each reflecting a different moment from their lives. Albert stared calmly at it and said:
"It's not a guardian. It's a question."
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and opened his palm. In it, the nine colors of his Eye manifested, floating in the air. The blue eye shone the brightest.
"We will not flee, nor will we deny. We will face the truth of this place."
The creature made no sound, but dissolved like mist blown away by revelation. In its place appeared a door—dimly glowing, etched with ever-shifting symbols.
"The final gate," Kaelya said. "The gate that leads to whoever created this dream... or to the reason it was abandoned."
Leon exhaled. "I wonder if we'll find answers, or just more questions."
Albert stepped toward the door. "Sometimes, questions are answers—if they're the right ones."
Touching the door, it opened without a sound. A gentle light embraced them, and in that moment, each of them felt something undeniable: they weren't just entering a new place. They were stepping into a thought forgotten by a world that no longer was.
While Albert, Kaelya, and Leon stepped through the door of the abandoned dream, the real world continued to stir — unseen, but far from still.
On the distant continent of Yaltheron, in the forgotten temple of the Fire That Does Not Burn, an old man whose eyes had been closed for centuries slowly opened them. A circle of runes around him began to melt, and his voice came out as a whisper:
— The dream moved. It was touched.
At the same moment, within the Watcher's Tower, a professor clad in the white mantle of the Central Academy halted his lecture and stared into the void. The students paused mid-writing.
— Something has been activated in layer 6 of reality. The information was accessed... from within.
In the Field of Old Oaths, where only those bound by ancestral rites could tread, a young woman with a tear-shaped scar on her cheek stopped her chanting. Her heterochromatic eyes widened.
— He stepped into that dream... and was not devoured.
Meanwhile, in the Realm of Shattered Mirrors, Zhelenya sensed a distortion in the network. She turned sharply toward one of the mirrors suspended in the air.
— He dreamed in the place of a being that was meant to be forgotten. He saw what should not be seen... and reality did not reject him.
A few paces away, one mirror began to crack without being touched.
— He's no longer just a traveler, she whispered. He is becoming part of the fabric of dreams that were never born.
Elsewhere in the world, within the Sanctuary of the Silent Ones, a gathering of robed figures sat in a circle. No words. Just one rose and raised a hand toward the sky.
An invisible seal shattered.
And one among them spoke, without moving his lips:
— It's too soon. But time can no longer stop him.
The world, unknowingly, was preparing for the next rupture. And between planes, forgotten entities felt the pull of a name they could not even utter: Albert.