The world came back in fragments. Light.
Sound. A dull, throbbing pulse behind his eyes.
Ethan stirred, gasping softly as his senses struggled to piece themselves together. The air shimmered, not air, exactly, but something dense and humming, like he was breathing through static.
He tried to move. His arms felt heavy. His head ached as though his mind had been stretched too far and snapped back too fast.
Flickers of memory surfaced the shadows, the blinding light, the voice that called his name. Then… nothing.
Somewhere close, a voice spoke. Calm. Deep.
"You've been out a while, dreamer."
Ethan froze. His pulse quickened.
He turned his head slowly toward the sound.
A man stood a few feet away, tall and broad-shouldered, his outline flickering faintly at the edges — like a bad signal trying to stabilize. His presence seemed both real and not real, as though the dream couldn't decide what he was.
But it was the eyes that caught Ethan — sharp blue, almost glowing. Familiar.
"Who… who are you?" Ethan managed, his throat raw.
The man smiled faintly.
"Name's Dogger."
Something in Ethan's chest stirred — recognition without memory. He frowned.
"Dogger... wait… blue eyes?"
Dogger's expression shifted, not surprise, but knowing.
"Maybe," he said softly. "Or maybe I'm the part of you that remembers things you shouldn't."
The air seemed to hum louder, like it was listening. Ethan sat up, still dizzy, scanning the world around him.
The landscape was unstable — an endless plain of fading gold, pieces of light drifting through the air like dust motes caught in slow motion. In the distance, the horizon bent, as if gravity itself forgot how to behave.
"Where are we?" Ethan asked.
Dogger stepped closer, his boots leaving faint ripples in the ground.
"Still in the dream. But deeper. You nearly tore the whole thing apart."
He reached out a hand. Ethan hesitated, then took it. Static jumped between them, a strange spark, not painful but electric with meaning.
"Listen carefully," Dogger said. "There are two kinds of people here.
The ones who still think this is real– we call them the unaware dreamers. Their minds are asleep, trapped in illusions the dream feeds them."
Ethan looked down. "So they're… just living fake lives?"
Dogger tilted his head.
"To them, it's real enough. The pain. The joy. The fear. They dream without knowing they're dreaming."
"And the others?" Ethan asked.
"The awakened dreamers," Dogger said, pacing slowly. "They know the truth — that this isn't real. When their minds wake up inside the dream, they gain control. The dream bends to their thoughts."
He stopped, looking back at Ethan.
"That's where the power comes from."
Ethan frowned. "Power?"
Dogger's mouth twitched into something between a grin and a grimace.
"Your mind shapes what you believe. You think of fire, and it burns. You imagine walls, and they rise. Every awakened dreamer manifests differently. It's not a gift, it's a reflection."
Ethan's voice lowered. "A reflection of what?"
Dogger met his eyes.
"Of you. Who you are. What you fear most. What you want most. It's all written into your power."
Ethan's mind flickered back to that night — the storm that ripped through the dark, the thunder that answered his scream, the lightning that shattered everything.
His hands trembled slightly.
"Mine was… a storm."
Dogger nodded, the faintest spark of static crossing his cheek.
"And storms mean what to you, lad?"
Ethan hesitated. "Chaos, maybe. Anger. But also… change. Storms break things — but they also clear the sky."
Dogger's grin widened, half proud, half sad.
"Good. You're learning. Storms don't just destroy — they make way for what's next. You've got the kind of mind that refuses to stay still. And that, dreamer… is both your strength and your curse."
Ethan studied him quietly. There was something off about Dogger's movement,a faint stutter, like each motion was being processed through faulty code.
"What about you?" he asked. "What kind of dreamer are you?"
Dogger looked down at his flickering hands.
"I'm not one."
"What do you mean?" Ethan asked
"When you fought the nightmare, you cracked the dream open. The system tried to repair itself. But it couldn't. You created a hole — and the dream filled it with… me."
Ethan stared. "So you're a glitch?"
Dogger smiled faintly.
"More like a symptom. Your mind tried to protect itself. I just happened to be the result."
"So I made you?"
"Guess so. You dreamed me into existence."
Ethan swallowed, uneasy. "Then you're part of me."
Dogger chuckled softly.
"In a way. But I've got my own thoughts now. You may have built me, but you don't own me."
"Why are you helping me, then?" Ethan asked.
Dogger looked at him for a long moment before answering.
"Because if you go down, I go down with you. Simple as that."
Dogger's tone shifted — deeper now, colder.
"You're not the only awakened dreamer, Ethan. There are others. Scattered. Some lost, some hiding. And some who serve the one who made all this."
Ethan's heart sank. "The Architect."
Dogger nodded once.
"He built this world. Every illusion, every fear, every rule. The dreamers keep it alive by believing in it. But awakened minds… we're static in his signal. Errors he can't fully erase."
"So he hunts us?"
"Not all. Some he twists, reshapes. Others…" Dogger's voice lowered — "he deletes."
Ethan stared at him. "And he knows about me?"
"He will. You made too much noise. When you used that light, you broke the silence that keeps awakened ones hidden."
Ethan took a shaky breath. "Then what do I do now?"
Dogger stepped closer, his blue eyes burning like fractured code.
"You learn. You master your mind before it masters you."
"And if I can't?"
Dogger smirked faintly.
"Then you'll burn through your own dream until there's nothing left. The Architect won't even have to find you."
"You talk like you've seen it happen."
"I have," Dogger said quietly. "Dreamers who wake up too fast… their minds collapse. They become echoes — wandering fragments. You can still hear them sometimes, whispering through the static."
Ethan's throat tightened.
"You mean the voices?"
Dogger nodded.
"They're not ghosts. They're leftovers."
The sky above them flickered, breaking into lines of blue static before fading again.
Dogger turned toward the horizon.
"This world's unraveling faster than it should. The Architect's losing control. And that means one thing."
Ethan looked up. "What?"
Dogger's voice was grim.
"He's waking up too."
A tremor rolled through the ground, splitting the air with a low, hollow pulse.
Dogger turned back to Ethan, his expression unreadable.
"You're the key to this, whether you like it or not. Your light doesn't just fight back — it breaks things. It's what made me, remember? So you'd better learn to control it before it tears this place apart."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Then you'll teach me?"
Dogger's grin returned, faint but real.
"Guess I don't have much choice, do I?"
He extended his hand again. Ethan took it and once more, that same static energy flared between them.
"Welcome to the deeper dream," Dogger said. "Training starts now."
The world rippled around them, gold light dissolving into shifting fragments as if reality itself was preparing to change shape.
And far above, unseen, a distant presence stirred in the dark — watching.