17. Tix

The abrupt change in setting was jarring.

From deciphering riddles and intricate scenes, we were now thrust into a vast and seemingly endless void.

The darkness pressed around us, a tangible force that played with my senses.

There was something oddly claustrophobic about the vastness.

"Grace, are you there?" I asked, reaching out.

Her fingers intertwined with mine, sending a reassuring pulse of warmth up my arm. "Right beside you," she whispered.

Even in this encompassing blackness, I could sense her presence, anchoring me.

As our eyes adjusted, we noticed a faint luminescence ahead.

We began walking, our feet touching a cool surface that illuminated in our wake.

It reminded me of the kind of phosphorescent trails left by some marine creatures.

Beneath our feet was a white line on a deep blue background, snaking forward into the distance.

The path was inviting but also mystifying; it emitted a dim, soft glow, reminiscent of candlelight.

Curious, we decided to follow the line.

Every step forward sent ripples of light that danced across the surface, casting ethereal shadows that played tricks on my eyes.

As we ventured deeper, the line began to branch out, revealing more intricate patterns and designs.

They weren't just random geometric shapes; these designs had structure, purpose.

Large square boxes with gaps where the doors should be.

Walking beside me, Grace's inquisitive nature took over.

She bent down, examining the line closely. "Tix, look," she gestured.

Laid out before us were intricate symbols, numbers, and minute details.

They seemed familiar, reminiscent of something I had encountered before but couldn't quite place.

As we continued our journey, we began to notice more patterns.

Each section of the floor held a unique blueprint.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I think… Are they architecture plans?"

I glanced around, taking in the enormity of the designs. "Yes. Yes, I see them now."

There was a poignant beauty to it all.

Here, in the depths of a person's mind, lay the map of a building he had helped design.

The enormity of the room became evident as we ventured further.

Each step revealed another layer of detail.

I was in awe, realizing that even in this chaotic maze, there was order.

A deliberate, intricate design woven by the subconscious.

The illuminated blueprint paths were an enigma in themselves, but what lay beyond them was even more baffling.

As we ventured into the first room labeled "playroom," a chorus of children's laughter filled the air.

The sound was melodic, reminiscent of carefree days.

I tried to spot the children, but all I saw was an empty space outlined by the blueprint's walls.

"Tix," Grace whispered, her voice quivering slightly, "can you see them?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just… echoes. Residual memories maybe?"

Each room we entered held its unique auditory tale.

A room annotated with "boys bathroom" resonated with the sound of water running and giggles, whereas the "girls bathroom" held whispers and the rustling of clothes.

The "kitchen" was alive with the aroma of baked goods and the clinking of dishes, even though we could see none of it.

The journey through these phantom rooms should have been a delightful adventure, a dive into Uhah's fondest memories.

As we progressed, the atmosphere began to change.

The rooms grew warmer.

The jovial laughter that once filled the air slowly transformed, taking on a more ominous tone.

It was subtle at first.

A giggle here, a chuckle there that sounded a tad too high-pitched.

As we delved deeper into the blueprint's depths, the changes became more pronounced.

Grace gripped my hand tighter, her fingers cold despite the rising temperature. "Tix, something's not right."

I felt it too.

The weight in the air, the ever-increasing heat, and those unnerving sounds.

The laughter morphed into screams of panic and distress.

The "dining room" echoed with frantic shouts, while the "living room" vibrated with sounds of chaos.

"Tix!" Grace's voice broke through my thoughts, panic evident in her tone. "It's too much. It's suffocating."

Trying to calm myself, I pulled her close. "Just remember, none of this is real. These are just memories, shadows of the past."

"Why such drastic change? From joy to… this?" Grace looked around, her eyes darting from one blueprint room to another, as though expecting the shadows to leap out.

"I think we're reliving a pivotal moment in Uhah's life," I mused, attempting to piece together the puzzle. "Memories aren't just recollections; they carry emotions. Uhah has powerful memories associated with this place, and we're experiencing them firsthand."

The scorching heat was becoming unbearable.

Sweat dripped from my brow, and I could see Grace's face glistening.

It felt like we were walking into the belly of a furnace, with the tormented cries of children as its soundtrack.

We entered a large space labeled "hallway," and the intensity of the screams reached a fever pitch.

It felt like a tangible force, pushing against us.

Grace staggered, her strength waning, and I caught her just in time.

"Tix, I'm scared," she murmured, her eyes filled with tears.

I cupped her face, wiping away the moisture. "We're in this together. Remember, it's all just a memory. We need to keep moving."

The blueprint path led us to the final room, simply labeled "exit."

The weight in the air seemed to lessen as we approached.

The screams faded, replaced by an eerie silence.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, hoping that whatever lay beyond would provide some respite.

As we stepped through, the heat and the chilling sounds vanished, as though they had never been.

Grace, still trembling, looked up at me. "Was any of that real?"

I pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her heartbeat against mine. "It was real for Uhah, once upon a time. For us, it was just a glimpse, a fragment of the past."

The surrounding area was calm.

The experience had taken its toll, leaving both of us emotionally drained.

"Let's keep going," Grace whispered, her voice shaky. "There has to be a way out of here."

There was.

And neither of us was going to like it.

* * *

The quiet afterour previous trial was deceptive, almost seductive.

It whispered promises of safety and normalcy, which, in hindsight, might have been our undoing.

Grace, always the curious spirit, took a step into the enigmatic darkness surrounding the illuminated blueprint paths.

I shouted a warning, but it was drowned out by an ear-piercing roar.

From the void, a creature made entirely of flames lunged at her.

Without thinking, I darted forward, yanking her back just as the fiery monster's claws swiped where she'd stood seconds before.

The heat from its body was so intense it singed the tips of my hair.

"Thanks," Grace breathed, her eyes wide with terror.

Our ordeal was far from over.

As I turned to move us away, the monster reached out with its flaming tail, coiling it around my ankle and pulling me toward its blazing maw.

The heat was unbearable, and the closer I got, the more intense it became.

Grace, her face a mask of horror, grabbed my outstretched hand, trying to pull me away from the beast's grip.

The difference in strength was stark.

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, realizing this might be where our journey ends.

I yelled at Grace to run, to save herself.

She had other ideas.

Gathering a deep breath, she screamed, her voice echoing and resonating with a power neither of us knew she possessed.

The scream's intensity rose, becoming a tangible force that created ripples in the very fabric of the dreamscape.

Everything quivered, and for a moment, it felt as though we were caught in a giant tremor.

The fiery monster, caught off guard, released its grip on me, its fiery form dispersing as the shockwave hit.

Stunned, I landed on the blueprint path with a thud, the echoes of Grace's scream still ringing in my ears.

She rushed to my side, both of us panting heavily.

"What… was that?" I gasped, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

Grace shook her head, equally bewildered. "I… don't know. It just… felt right."

As she spoke, an ominous ripping sound reverberated throughout the space.

It felt like the very essence of the dreamscape was tearing apart.

Hairline fractures appeared all around, branching out like spider webs.

Realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. "Uhah," I exclaimed. "He's waking up!"

Grabbing Grace's hand, I pulled her along and shifted to pull us from the nightmare and back into the dreamworld but something snatched my leg.

Looking back, I saw it was a creature cloaked in flames.

The touch of it sent searing pain up my leg and into my heart and I threw back my head and screamed in agony.

We needed to get out, to leave the collapsing dream before we were trapped inside forever.

I released Grace and bellowed at her:

"Go!"

She refused, and filled her lungs with air once more and screamed at the beast holding me.

It wasn't just a scream, I realized.

It was something more.

There was something beneath it, underneath it somehow.

A shockwave from the noise struck the creature and it lost its grip on me.

Grace grabbed my hand and together, we shifted out of there.

Even as we did, the world around us shifted dramatically, like someone had grabbed the giant blueprint plans beneath our feet and jerked it.

We jolted forward into the darkness and I didn't know if we were going to remain there forever or if we would make it back out on the outside.

* * *

Getting bootedfrom a dream is like getting pulled out of deep water.

There's a rush, a strange blend of weightlessness and disorientation, and suddenly, you're back in the encompassing void of the dreamworld.

We fell hard and slapped headfirst onto the plain white floor.

I reached for Grace to check she was okay before getting to my feet.

Uhah's groggy voice rippled through the darkness. "Who… Who's there?" he rasped, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

He strained to look around, but to him, we were mere shadows, imperceptible and indistinct.

Frustration and fear flickered across Uhah's face. "Show yourselves!" he snapped, swiping at the darkness like someone shooing away an intrusive fly.

His eyes were groggy and heavy with sleep, and soon, weariness overtook his curiosity and trepidation.

With a grunt, he rolled over, pulling the blankets closer, and within moments, was lost once again in slumber.

The darkness churned, and a familiar nightmare began to take form around him.

I felt a tug on my sleeve and turned to see Grace, her face a mixture of determination and concern.

"Should we try again?" she whispered, her eyes darting between me and Uhah's recumbent form.

I hesitated.

The pull to delve back into the depths of the dream, to try and solve the enigma that had stumped us, was strong.

As I replayed our recent experience in my mind, I shook my head. "We've pushed enough for today. We need to recoup and strategize."

She gave a sigh of agreement, but her gaze lingered on Uhah. "It feels… wrong, leaving him like this," she murmured.

I gently took her hand. "We'll be back. And next time, we'll be prepared."

She nodded, though I could see the doubt clouding her eyes.

As we prepared to navigate away from the dreamworld, something caught my attention.

I paused, tilting my head to get a clearer look.

Grace followed my gaze, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What is it?"

I pointed upwards, towards a seemingly nondescript section of Uhah's cell wall.

Grace squinted, the abnormality becoming clearer.

Etched across the vast expanse, like a scar on the smooth skin of the universe, was a hairline fracture.

Its presence was an anomaly, a tear that shouldn't exist in a realm where the boundaries between reality and imagination were fluid.

"That… wasn't there before, was it?" Grace murmured, her voice quivering with a mix of awe and apprehension.

I nodded slowly. "It seems our actions have repercussions far beyond what we imagined."

The crack was shallow but distinct.

Like a distorted mirror, it seemed to reflect the reality we had momentarily disturbed, serving as an unsettling reminder of the fragility of this plane.

Grace gently touched the crack, her fingers trembling. "Did… I do this?"

I thought back to the screams she had emitted and the effect they'd had on the monsters in the nightmare.

Had there been a tearing sound too?

I wasn't sure.

There had been too much going on.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Dreamscapes are resilient. They're built on the foundation of memories, emotions, and experiences. They're not infallible. This… this might take time, and we need to be cautious."

Grace pulled back her hand, her face pale. "We've altered something, haven't we?"

I nodded. "Every action has a consequence, Grace. And sometimes, they ripple across realms."

She shuddered. "So what do we do now?"

I took a deep breath. "First, we rest. Then, we find a way to fix this."

For a few moments, we stood there, hand in hand, gazing at the crack that had transformed the familiar terrain into unknown territory.

It was a sobering reminder that even in a realm where the impossible was mundane, there were limits.

And as we navigated away, one thought echoed in my mind: in our quest for answers, we had inadvertently unmasked a new enigma, one that threatened the very fabric of the dreamworld.

The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: we had to tread carefully, for the balance between dreams and reality was more fragile than we'd ever imagined.

* * *

Sunlight streamedinto the cramped prison corridors, bouncing off the cracked walls and casting a faint glow that danced with the dust motes.

I had just dropped Grace off at the Prize Pool and was heading to the mess hall for some breakfast.

Every time I closed my eyes, I was bombarded by fragmented memories of our nightmarish expedition.

I could still feel the heat of the fire monster, the overwhelming dread that engulfed me, and the sharp sting of fear when I believed I wouldn't make it out.

What still baffled me was how Grace had come to my rescue.

The way she took command of the dreamscape was reminiscent of something I'd taught her months ago — the art of manipulating one's surroundings within the dream realm.

It was a nifty trick, a survival skill that had saved us numerous times.

What she did last night was beyond anything I had seen, or taught her.

The abrupt shattering of the dreamscape, the potent shockwave she'd released — it was raw, untamed power.

Power that I didn't even know she possessed.

I thought about her again, a flood of emotions washing over me.

Pride, awe, fear, and a fierce protectiveness.

She was so much more than the timid girl I'd met a short while ago, the one who had been so wary of diving into the abstract territories of dreamscapes.

She was a force to be reckoned with, and I felt incredibly fortunate to have her by my side.

Still, something gnawed at the back of my mind.

Grace's outburst had caused more than just a shockwave.

I found myself changing direction and headed toward Uhah's cell.

The door had been left open and I couldn't help but creep up to it and glance in.

My mouth felt dry, I wasn't sure if I hoped to see what might be there or not.

As I shoved the door open, the meager light from the outside windows cast a thick blanket of light over the back wall.

The crack was there.

I had to steady myself for fear I might lose balance.

I had expected it to be there — after all, the dreamworld could only reflect what was in the real world — but I still had to see it for myself.

It had to be an anomaly.

It was a phenomenon I had never encountered before, nor did I think was even possible.

I had heard tales of dream wanderers who could manipulate both dream and reality, but I had always dismissed them as mere folklore, tales told to entertain young dreamers.

Now, I had witnessed it.

I had seen the impossible become possible.

What did it mean?

Was it dangerous?

And more importantly, how could we fix it?

Lost in a dense forest of thoughts, I was barely aware of my surroundings as I turned a corner and ran into someone.

A firm hand gripped my shoulder, spinning me around and pushing me into a shallow alcove.

My back hit the wall hard, and I found myself staring into the hateful eyes of Fleth.

The memory of our last encounter was fresh — his humiliation in the pit, the laughing crowd, the white cloth that had momentarily brought his worst fears to the surface.

The rage simmering in his eyes told me he hadn't forgotten either.

"No one humiliates me like that, Tix," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "No one."

"I suggest you let go," I growled, trying to keep my voice steady.

The element of surprise was on his side, and in these tight quarters, I had little room to maneuver.

Instead of heeding my warning, Fleth lunged at me with a swift, powerful strike.

I managed to dodge, but the narrow confines of the alcove made it nearly impossible to mount a proper defense.

His next punch connected with my jaw, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my head.

I had faced Fleth in the pit and had been prepared for his onslaught.

Here, in the sterile corridor, without the rush of the crowd or the structured rules of the pit, the situation felt chaotic and unpredictable.

Fleth kept pressing his advantage, relentless in his attacks.

I blocked and parried as best I could, trying to find an opening to counter-attack or make my escape.

Fleth was like a wild animal, driven by rage and humiliation.

A sudden, brutal kick caught me off-guard, striking my leg with bone-crushing force.

An agonizing pain shot up my body, and I realized with a sinking feeling that my leg was broken.

I staggered, trying to stay upright, but Fleth was already on me.

"No more games, Tix," he growled, landing a series of punches on my chest and face.

My vision blurred, and every breath became a painful effort.

With my mobility compromised and unable to properly defend myself, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

My training, my experiences in the pit, none of it seemed to matter in the face of Fleth's fury.

As the onslaught continued, a part of me stubbornly clung to consciousness, searching for an opening, a way out.

But Fleth was relentless.

A final, powerful blow to my temple was the last thing I felt before the world went dark.

The cold, echoing corridors bore silent witness to the violence, my limp body a testament to Fleth's vengeance.