Gear exhaled.
"Phew, okay."
He was still reeling from the heat of Wrock's subconscious core. Moving from suffocating heat right into ice cold water shook him more mentally than he thought.
Thankfully none of it was real. The only damage he suffered was to his will. Basically as long as he could shrug it off he would remain unharmed.
Wrock looked about, "One at a time. . . is there anyone who could help you?"
"Realistically, maybe."
"What kind of criteria would they need?"
"They have to be someone with an incredible insight while also having a steel will."
Gear pointed to Wrock, "You don't classify because the moment you realized this was a dream your first instinct was to burn it away and wake up. I had to prevent that twice!"
Wrock didn't comment.
"The problem is dreams are tricky. Often don't make sense. If you can't immediately find out a series of rules and interaction that dream has at a glance, you'd quickly be swept up in it."
