The sky above the city shimmered in soft silver, its surface a living mirror of glass and light. Airships drifted across towering spires, their engines whispering in harmony with the distant hum of artificial clouds. It was the year 9980—a time when humanity had mastered every dream except the one that mattered most: reality itself.
Inside a street of polished marble and neon veins stood the Dream Emporium, a dome of translucent crystal where people queued for miracles. Behind its entrance, suspended like a jewel within liquid light, rested the Reality Maker—a machine that promised the impossible.
"Live any life you desire," the holographic sign whispered. "A world shaped by your will. A dream that feels real."
The man stepped forward, expression unreadable beneath the soft reflection of the city lights. His eyes were calm—too calm for someone about to rewrite existence. His coat fluttered lightly in the temperature-controlled breeze as he approached the reception desk.
A young clerk, all synthetic charm and glossy features, greeted him with a mechanical smile."Good evening, sir. Would you like to try the Reality Maker? First session is complimentary for new users."
The man studied the machine beyond the glass: a sleek obsidian pod, lined with gold veins that pulsed like veins of living light. "How long does it last?" he asked quietly.
"Three hours here," the clerk replied, "but within the simulation, it could feel like decades. You'll awaken rested, fulfilled, and…"—the clerk's tone brightened—"ready for another round."
The man's gaze lingered on the pod. Decades in a dream. He had lived long enough in the real world to find it hollow. Maybe, within a dream, he could find meaning again.
"I'll take it," he said simply.
The Setup
Minutes later, he lay within the pod, the transparent cover descending with a soft hiss. The helmet sealed around his head, tendrils of silver light weaving through the air like threads of destiny.
Inside the pod, the voice of the attendant echoed softly."Before activation, please input your custom parameters. What kind of world would you like to live in?"
The man hesitated, then smiled faintly."Fantasy," he said. "Something... magical. With castles and monsters. A world that feels alive."
"Understood. Any specific world templates?"
He thought for a moment—faces, books, stories he had once loved flickering in his mind. Hogwarts. Coiling Dragon. Rebirth. Magic."Merge them," he said finally. "Make it mine."
"Noted. You may also set two wish parameters," the voice prompted. "Anything you desire for your dream self."
His eyes closed. "I want power. The kind that shakes the world. The kind that defies death.""Wish one?""The ability to destroy mountains—the Quake-Quake Fruit.""Wish two?""The Shadow Clone Jutsu. To multiply myself, to never be alone."
For a moment, the machine's voice flickered—an echo folding over itself, like two voices speaking in sync. A deeper tone beneath the synthetic calm murmured something he couldn't quite hear. It felt ancient, not programmed. Then it was gone.
The machine pulsed with faint light, registering each desire like sacred scripture.
"Parameters accepted," the voice said. "Dream initialization commencing. Please relax."
He exhaled, letting go of the world above. The pod's inner light dimmed to twilight. The hum of the machine deepened to a heartbeat rhythm. Beneath the hum, he thought he heard whispering—not from outside, but from within the pod, inside his own thoughts. "...two wishes granted... one yet unspoken..." The voice was faint, distorted. He blinked, but the lights flickered, and it vanished.The last thing he saw was a slow swirl of golden particles around his hand—his dream forming, line by line, in silence.
The Failure
Somewhere above the Dream Emporium, lightning split the city's perfect night. A ripple of static cascaded through the grid—one of those rare, impossible malfunctions that no engineer believed could happen anymore.
In a control room, red alarms began to flash. "Power surge detected—Reality Maker unit seven offline!"
"Pull the feed! Disconnect the consciousness tether!"
But it was too late.
Inside the pod, the man's body convulsed. The helmet's light flared white-hot, then shattered into darkness. Lines of code across the console warped into strange symbols—circles within circles, shifting like living script. The system registered: "Dream initialization complete." Then another, hidden line appeared beneath it, flickering red: "SOUL TRANSFER: ACTIVE." The sensors screamed errors, one after another. In the span of a heartbeat, his heart stopped. His breath vanished.
Silence followed—a deep, consuming silence that stretched beyond life.
The Drift
He awoke to light.
Not the sterile glow of technology, but something older—timeless, pure. It surrounded him like mist, a boundless horizon of white, and he realized he had no body. No breath. No heartbeat. Only awareness.
Is this... part of the dream?
He tried to move but found himself floating, every thought rippling through the mist like sound in water. The world around him shimmered—waves of energy flowing outward, pulsing like veins in a living cosmos.
Then came the voice.
Deep. Calm. Neither male nor female. It carried the weight of eternity.
"Welcome, traveler. You have crossed the boundary of flesh."
A figure appeared ahead of him, vast and cloaked in shadow, with eyes like dying stars.
"Your vessel perished when the machine faltered. Your consciousness escaped... and now stands before me."
He blinked, trying to understand. "Then this... isn't part of the simulation?"
"No," said the figure. "This is the Universal Realm—the space between all worlds."
The man stared at the mist beneath him, realization dawning like slow dawnlight. Dead. The word felt foreign, unreal.
"But I was inside the Reality Maker," he said softly. "I was dreaming..."
"You were. And in that dream, your will was strong enough to pierce the veil of death itself. That will grants you passage here."
The figure stepped closer, its shadow shifting like smoke.
"Because your death was not of your choosing, and your heart desired life, I shall grant you two wishes. Choose wisely. Once fulfilled, your soul will journey onward—to a new beginning."
The Wishes
The man hesitated, his thoughts scattering like embers. The scene felt surreal—he was certain this was still the simulation, that the Entity was some programmed avatar fulfilling the fantasy he'd built.
"All right," he said slowly. "Two wishes?"
"Two," the voice confirmed.
He smiled faintly. "Then I choose the same ones I already set. The Quake-Quake Fruit, without its weakness. And... the Shadow Clone Jutsu."
The Entity regarded him silently, then nodded.
"So be it. Power to shatter worlds, and the strength to walk them as many."
Its hand rose, and a vortex of white flame enveloped him. Energy rippled through his soul like thunder.
"When you awaken, you will not remember this place, nor your past life. You will live again beneath the laws of another world."
He felt himself being drawn upward, the mist peeling away into light.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "You said I died. But this is all... still the dream, isn't it? I'm still inside the Reality Maker?"
The Entity's voice softened—a sound like a sigh lost in eternity.
"Believe what brings you peace, traveler."
The light swallowed everything.
He fell through infinity—white fading to black, black to warmth, warmth to silence. His consciousness stretched thin, scattered into a thousand threads, each carrying fragments of who he had been.
Somewhere, far away, a woman screamed in labor. A man shouted her name.
The soul that had once belonged to a man from the far future drifted toward that sound, unaware that destiny had already entwined him with others.
In another realm, two fragments of ancient magic—one light, one dark—spiraled through the same current of creation, drawn toward the same newborn spark.
And as they converged, the void whispered with the faintest hum of something new being born—not just a life,but a story.
End of Prologue – The Reality Maker