"One two!", an instructor called.
"One two!", a number of younger individuals repeated.
Two forms of martial art. They moved in unison. Perfecting the basics.
"Three four!"
"Three four!"
Two more stance, two more techniques. They reviewed their basic techniques from each stance to each movement.
"Five six!"
"Five six!"
Gear massaged his temples to clear his head. This was. . . Wrock's dream. Pushing the thin floor underneath a person made Gear fall into their set of dreams. An interconnected dreamscape.
Waking them up was a problem. The moment they realized this was a dream they'd actually fall further into their dreams. Deeper into their subconscious. Gear was mere moments away from reaching a point of no return if he wasn't able to 'see' the reality of the situation. He just barely reached that limbo space in the Dreamscape himself.
