The transfer was instant. One moment I was in Marko's room; the next, I was standing on a jagged rock suspended in a psychedelic space.
The place looked like an acid trip. Everything around me defied geometry. Paths spiraled into nothingness, and twisted alien vegetation drifted aimlessly in the absence of gravity. Above me, a massive, disembodied maw lined with razor-sharp teeth snapped shut around a leathery, bat-like creature. There was no throat, no stomach—the creature simply ceased to exist the moment the jaws closed.
As for what I was doing here:
Mission: The Never-Ending Dream
Description: Nightmare has abducted several unfortunate souls into a minor Dream Dimension to lure Dr. Strange inside. Among them is the user's friend, Marko Bellic.
Primary Objective: Rescue Marko Bellic.
Failure Conditions: Marko dies or is assimilated into the Dream Dimension.
Reward: Dungeon Update — Dream Dimensions Unlocked.
Note: Accepting this mission will immediately transport the user's psyche into the target Dream Dimension.
Yep, I understood the unwritten part. The System was responsible for getting me into the Dream Dimension, but finding my way out was entirely up to me.
That alone was enough for me not even to touch this mission with a twenty-foot pole, let alone the fact that Nightmare was involved.
Nightmare was an entity comparable to the Dweller-in-Darkness, Mephisto, and Dormammu. Within his own realm, he was virtually omnipotent. He was one of those rare entities that could be defeated, but never truly destroyed. As long as beings continued to dream, Nightmare would continue to exist.
So why am I doing this suicide mission?
I let out a weary sigh. "The things we do for our idiot friends."
It had started as just another ordinary day at the university.
I had noticed Marko wasn't in class. He hadn't mentioned taking the day off, but I didn't think much of it. Maybe he'd simply changed his mind at the last minute.
Then the slice-of-life genre abruptly turned into a thriller when news broke that Namor had arrived with an army to wage war. In the end, the war never happened, and everything returned to normal almost as quickly as it had descended into chaos. The only lingering reminder was the increased police presence, meant to keep opportunists and would-be troublemakers in check.
After classes, Felicia and I went to the Bellics' home to find out what had happened. Marko still wasn't answering his phone. I had called Uncle Niko earlier. He confirmed that Marko was home, but the unmistakable strain in his voice told me something was wrong.
We soon learned why.
Marko hadn't woken up that morning.
His family had tried everything they could think of, but he remained asleep. Once the situation with Namor settled enough for emergency services to function again, they managed to get a doctor to the house. After a thorough examination, the doctor found nothing wrong. As far as he could tell, Marko was simply... asleep. Peacefully so. With no sign of injury or physical distress, he advised them to monitor Marko for now, believing he would wake on his own.
If that had been all, his parents might have been worried, but not terrified.
Unfortunately, it wasn't.
Recent news reports described a growing number of people who had inexplicably fallen asleep and never woken up. Some had remained unconscious for more than three days without any medical explanation. The Bellics feared Marko was the latest victim.
The moment I laid eyes on him, the System answered the question the doctors couldn't.
A mission window appeared before me.
I silently cursed my absurd luck—and the Web of Life and Destiny while I was at it.
I rubbed a hand over my face and turned to Felicia. "Watch over my body."
Without waiting for a response, I closed my eyes.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the Dream Dimension.
I followed the map's route along a winding stone path.
Since Marko was the mission objective, his location was marked with a waypoint. Unfortunately, the route connecting us looked like something a toddler had scribbled with a crayon. Having never visited this Dream Dimension before, I found everything beyond the explored area hidden beneath a thick fog of war. Only the path I had already traversed was revealed, making it impossible to understand the bigger picture.
I stopped in front of a wall. The stone path continued to the right, winding past a cluster of floating crystals. But I didn't turn. Why? Because the map said I was supposed to climb the fucking wall. The route ran directly into the wall, then bent upward at a perfect ninety-degree angle.
I didn't move.
Normally, if a wall blocked the route, the map would guide me around it—left, right, or even back the way I came. It had never once told me to climb a sheer vertical wall.
Then an absurd possibility occurred to me.
I planted one foot against the wall, then cautiously lifted the other off the ground. The foot pressed against the wall, while the other hung in midair.
...You've got to be kidding me.
I placed my other foot against the wall and cautiously straightened. I was now fucking standing upright on the wall, my body parallel to the ground below. I took a step forward and started walking up the wall.
I immediately opened my status window to check whether I had somehow acquired spider powers without noticing.
I hadn't.
While I walked up the wall as though it were the most natural thing in the world, my thoughts drifted to the war that had never begun.
I hadn't been particularly worried about the war. It had happened in canon. According to canon, the Atlantean army was supposed to occupy Manhattan without harming civilians. Namor was supposed to defeat the Fantastic Four at first. Reed would then create a device that disabled the Atlanteans' breathing apparatuses, forcing them back into the ocean and ending the conflict.
Once again, reality had reminded me not to rely too heavily on canon.
When the Pink Atlantean appeared with Namor, I was already confused. When the three women introduced themselves as members of the Abyssian Empire, I immediately suspected a connection to Zephyra.
I recognized their techniques. The two women primarily fought using Rokushiki combined with Fishman Arts. The third woman wielded a form of water magic remarkably similar to Zephyra's. Their leader was by far the strongest of the three. She had slaughtered thousands of soldiers using Fishman Arts alone. I checked her status. She was strong enough to challenge Giganto on her own.
That did put me in a difficult position.
I didn't regret giving Zephyra those techniques. From what I had seen, Zephyra had likely used those techniques to establish the Abyssian Empire—or at least helped shape it. But that had been three centuries ago. The current ruler was almost certainly one of her descendants. Zephyra could live for two hundred years, but dealing with the Dweller-in-Darkness had already cost her several decades. Even if she had ruled the empire herself, her reign could not have lasted much more than a century.
She had also passed those techniques on to her people. By now, they were probably among the Abyssian Empire's most closely guarded secrets. I didn't mind that. I gave them to her; it was up to her what to do with them. If they had helped her make the most of her life, then I was happy for her.
The people who came after her were another matter. To them, I was nothing more than a stranger. They could use those techniques against me if our interests ever clashed.
Worse, no nation was immune to traitors. The three Abyssians had appeared precisely to capture one of their own. What if someone eventually leaked those techniques to my enemies?
Zephyra might have left safeguards to prevent that—or she might not have. I couldn't afford to stake my future on an assumption.
I rubbed my temple—too many variables and nowhere near enough information.
Only time would tell whether Zephyra's descendants would greet me as a friend—or treat me as a threat.
Sanctum Sanctorum, Greenwich Village, a few hours ago
"Master," Wong said as he entered Stephen's study. "Forgive the interruption."
"What is it, Wong?" Stephen asked.
"Two police officers have come to see you," Wong said.
Stephen nodded. "Send them in."
"Forgive us for arriving without an appointment, sir," said the older officer as he entered. "But this is an urgent matter."
A second officer, no older than his mid-twenties, followed him inside. He said nothing, but skepticism was plain on his face.
The first officer glanced at the newspaper in Stephen's hand. He recognized the article Stephen had been reading. "It appears you're already aware of what's been happening."
Stephen lowered the newspaper and regarded his guests. "Tell me what you know," he said.
The younger officer frowned at Stephen's casual manner, but a warning glance from his senior silenced whatever objection had been forming.
"As you've already read, sir," the older officer said, "the number of people falling asleep and remaining unresponsive is steadily increasing. According to the doctors, there is nothing medically wrong with any of them.
"Officially, the department isn't treating it as a crime. We have no evidence that one has been committed."
He hesitated.
"But I believe there's more to it—something my department would never put in an official report. That's why I came to you."
He lowered his eyes. "I won't pretend I came only out of concern for the other victims. My daughter hasn't woken up in over a day."
"Gentlemen, I also believe the mystic arts are involved in these cases," Stephen said at last. He folded the newspaper and rose. "Take me to your daughter."
Soon the cops, together with Dr. Strange and his manservant Wong, arrived at the older cop's home. Stephen examined her as a physician at first but found no ordinary medical explanation for her condition. He raised his amulet, allowing its mystical light to wash over her. The amulet's light revealed something that darkened his expression.
"Without a doubt," Stephen said, turning to the police officers, "there is a supernatural force at work here. Her body is asleep, but her mind is no longer fully within it. She has been placed under a magically induced slumber."
Stephen promised the officer that he would help his daughter, then returned to the Sanctum with Wong.
He searched the library until he found the volume he needed. Its pages contained the incantation for the spell he needed: the Mist of Hoggoth. He sat cross-legged and began chanting the ancient incantation.
White smoke curled from the nearby candles and gathered before him. The smoke thickened into a pale, swirling portal. Stephen closed his eyes. Moments later, his translucent astral form rose from his body and stepped through the portal.
Stephen emerged on the other side and found a narrow path stretching into the distance. The narrow trail, sustained by Hoggoth's power, shimmered against the surrounding unreality. It would guide him safely to his destination through a realm where direction itself had no meaning.
The moment Stephen crossed into the Dream Dimension, his magic rippled through the realm like a stone cast into still water.
Nightmare noticed immediately. Something else caught his attention as well. Another intruder had entered the realm, though his mystical presence was barely perceptible.
"It seems Dr. Strange is not my only uninvited guest." Nightmare smirked. "A rat has slipped in as well."
"Master," rasped a stooped figure wrapped in a tattered green robe. "Shall we dispose of the other intruder?"
"No need." Nightmare waved the concern aside. "Our target is Dr. Strange. The rat barely possesses enough mystical energy to register. Let him be. Soon, he will either die or become part of this dimension forever."
"Yes, Master." The robed creature bowed.
—
I couldn't tell how long I had been walking. At first, I tried to keep my bearings as the map led me through impossible turns, but eventually every surface began to feel like the ground.
As I walked, I came across a bizarre sight. A chandelier was bolted to the floor ahead of me, its arms and crystals hanging upward as though gravity had been reversed—assuming gravity even existed here. I gave it a cautious push, and it swung like an upside-down pendulum.
"What the fuck is happening?"
I looked around; there was nothing else on the floor. I looked up and found an entire living-room set fixed upside down to the ceiling—a sofa, two chairs, and a television.
"Okay, seriously, what the fuck? Am I walking on the ceiling, or is that chandelier tethered to the floor like a helium balloon?"
I spent a full three seconds trying to make sense of it. I didn't understand shit, so I gave up and walked around it.
That was when I realized I had fucked up. The map had told me to pass the chandelier on the right. I had gone around it on the left. As soon as I passed the chandelier, the map glitched as though it were recalibrating. The route disappeared. New lines scribbled themselves across the map, vanished, and appeared again like a toddler repeatedly restarting a drawing. A second later, a new route appeared.
I gulped and looked back.
The chandelier was gone.
I checked below, above, or whatever direction it was. The sofa and chairs had vanished. In its place stood a dining table beside the television.
Sighing loudly, I continued on the new route.
I didn't notice when the living room disappeared. A forest appeared, just that the trees jutted out from both the right and left walls. The forest floor was on both sides and above me.
As I continued forward, I spotted a massive web stretched between the trees. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and fell sideways to the right. I was in no state to appreciate the sideways gravity. Without realizing it, I had already started walking faster. The sight dragged up some painful memories. A phantom pain flared in my chest.
Then something large rustled among the trees, and my brisk walk turned into a near jog. A massive shadow shifted behind one of the trees. A moment later, it skittered into view. The spider towered more than ten meters high. Eyes covered every part of its body—its abdomen, its fangs, even its eight legs—and each one moved independently.
It appeared to be going about its day, dragging a cocooned body toward the web before hauling it into place. I decided that such a hard-working creature deserved its privacy and quietly accelerated. It was bad manners to disturb someone when they were on the clock.
I had put some distance between us when one of its countless eyes suddenly swiveled toward me. In the next instant, every eye on its body snapped toward me. Ice crawled up my spine. I cursed my rotten luck once more as I bolted.
The spider screeched and landed on the floor/ceiling/roof/wall, whatever surface I was running on. Honestly, I no longer knew what counted as "ground." It charged after me, all eight legs hammering against the surface.
I ran with everything I had, but the distance between us kept shrinking. Then I saw an upside-down elevator ahead. The moment I saw it, I pushed myself harder and finally activated Soru. The elevator doors began to close.
By the time I reached the elevator, the spider was directly behind me. I dove through the narrowing gap just as the doors slammed shut behind me. I expected to land on my stomach. Instead, gravity abruptly reversed by 180 degrees. Instead of hitting the floor on my stomach, I was yanked backward and slammed my back on the opposite side.
I climbed to my feet, rubbing my aching back. The elevator started moving on its own. The numbers on the display changed erratically. Some of the symbols weren't numbers at all.
3, 7, 4, R, 9, H, 23, 15, -4, 6
The elevator finally stopped on the 13th floor.
As the elevator doors opened, I stepped into what looked like an ordinary office floor. It felt, for a fleeting second, as if I had left the Dream Dimension entirely and returned to reality. But if I actually believed that, I'd be the biggest fool in the world.
The floor seemed to stretch into an endless, uniform grid of heavy, dark oak desks separated by opaque, textured glass dividers. The layout was suffocatingly dense, designed to maximize worker efficiency while stripping away privacy. The only sound was the faint, sterile hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
The equipment on the desks came from several different eras. Sleek laptops sat beside heavy black rotary telephones, stacks of yellowed carbon paper, and metal filing trays labeled INWARD and OUTWARD. Everything looked pristine, yet entirely dead—no personal photos, no coffee mugs, and no signs of actual human occupancy.
The route continued along a narrow linoleum aisle between the desks, and I followed it.
After I had passed more desks than I cared to count, a telephone began to ring. It sat on the desk beside me.
It's for me, isn't it?
I ignored it and kept walking. The telephone stopped ringing. The moment I passed the next desk, its telephone rang. I kept walking.
When a third telephone rang, I pushed it farther back, cleared a space on the desk, and sat down before lifting the receiver. "Hello," I said. "You've reached the Shitty Department of the Crappy Corporation. How may I help you?"
Wet, raspy breathing came through the receiver. Then a man's voice asked, "Have you finished the report?"
"No, I haven't," I replied.
Whoever was on the other end clearly hadn't expected a straight answer. The line went silent for a moment. Then the man spoke again. "You have to complete it by today. Even if it means overtime, you can't leave the office without submitting it."
"I'm taking a mental health day," I said casually, swinging my legs. "Can I do it tomorrow?"
Silence answered me. A second later, the line disconnected with a sharp click.
"What a rude fellow," I muttered, putting down the receiver.
I resumed following the route. At last, the endless grid changed. A door appeared on my right, and the route passed straight through it.
But just as I reached for the doorknob, the fluorescent hum died. A heavy, suffocating silence dropped over the floor.
Behind me came the measured click of leather dress shoes. The steps came with mechanical precision, each separated by exactly the same pause. The footsteps stopped right behind me.
"Where are you going?" asked the same voice from directly behind me. Wet, raspy breath stirred the hairs on the back of my neck. "Employees may not leave before the end of their shift."
I was sorely tempted to turn around and see what stood behind me. But I didn't for a few reasons.
First, I'd seen enough horror movies to know curiosity was a killer—especially for cats and nosy protagonists.
Second, I was already on the clock, and my clusterfuck earlier had cost me too much time.
Third, my Danger Sense had gone haywire as soon as I heard the footsteps and intensified further when they stopped behind me.
Finally, the System had started spamming notifications the moment the thing appeared. They were all the same. I had to silence them so they wouldn't bother me.
Even the Dweller-in-Darkness's clone hadn't received such extravagant treatment from the System.
Warning!
Memetic Corruption Field Detected
Source: The Blank Executive
Effects:
The entity emits a memetic field that progressively erodes the victim's identity by degrading their memory.
Long-range: Gradual loss of facial recognition, beginning with acquaintances and progressing to friends and family.
Within 10 feet: Loss of facial self-recognition. The victim can no longer recall or recognize their own face.
Terminal Stage: Complete identity erosion. The victim is assimilated into the Office as faceless personnel.
Status: Nullified by Gamer's Mind
I did the right thing. I turned the doorknob. The Blank Executive didn't try to stop me. Yet the cold breath remained against my neck, and the measured footsteps followed close behind.
I forced myself to ignore the presence behind me and studied what lay ahead. Another endless office floor stretched before me, identical to the one I had just left.
I frowned but continued walking. My frown deepened when I approached the next junction. I remembered the route turning left, but the map now directed me right. After my earlier mistake, I had started memorizing the next few turns in advance. A moment ago, the route had clearly turned left. Now it bent right. I was certain I hadn't deviated from the route. And the map couldn't be wrong.
So what had changed?
As I felt the breathing on my neck, I understood what had changed.
I followed the route down the aisle. Perfectly arranged desks stretched along both sides. Then I noticed something out of place. One rotary telephone sat farther back on its desk than all the others. I remembered pushing it toward the back to make room for myself.
I stared at the telephone for a long second. This is going to be a pain.
I lost track of how many rooms and corridors I passed through. I jogged onward to make up for lost time. Apart from the Executive, I hadn't encountered any threats, so there was no reason to burn stamina as though something were chasing me.
Eventually, the route led me to an elevator. I pressed the button, and with a ding, the elevator doors opened. Without looking behind me, I stepped inside and pressed the only available button. The doors closed, but the wet breathing remained at the back of my neck.
When the elevator stopped, a second set of doors opened on the wall opposite the ones I had entered through. Apparently, the elevator had doors on both sides. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the breath at my neck began to fade. As I moved away from the elevator, the breathing faded with every step until it vanished entirely. The measured footsteps faded too. Behind me, the elevator chimed, and its doors slid shut.
I looked back. No one was there. The elevator stood alone at the beginning of a stone path. No shaft, wall, or building stood behind it. Beyond the elevator stretched an endless brown sky streaked with sickly green light.
Turning away from the elevator, I resumed my journey.
The stone path ended at the cliff's edge. At least there was no visible path forward. Yet the marked route continued directly over the edge.
After a moment's hesitation, I extended one foot over the edge and lowered it cautiously. My foot came to rest on something solid, though nothing was visible beneath it. I took another step and found myself standing in empty space.
The invisible route grew even stranger, twisting through open space and occasionally leading me up and down staircases I couldn't see.
I continued along the invisible path. After a while, distant crashes and animalistic snarls reached me. Following the noise, I found a robed man battling a four-legged crimson beast covered in jagged spikes. The man was Dr. Strange. He was standing on a narrow stone path. The beast moved freely through open space as though an invisible ground supported it.
A second figure watched from nearby, wrapped in a black cloak. Like the beast, he stood unsupported in the void. He was Nightmare. Beside him stood a black, horse-like creature with enormous wings. Its mane and tail were made of the same sickly green fire that burned from its hooves, back, and eyes. It was Dreamstalker, Nightmare's mount.
Nearby, a stone platform hung suspended in the void. Several translucent figures huddled together upon it, watching the battle. Then I spotted Marko among them. He still hadn't seen me.
Someone else did. Relief had barely registered before someone appeared directly in front of me.
"You are remarkably interesting for a mortal," Nightmare said, smirking.
"I know." I nodded.
"I mistook you for a stray rat," Nightmare said. "Yet somehow, you reached the heart of this realm. Was it luck—or something more?"
Several people on the platform noticed Nightmare vanish from beside Dreamstalker and reappear in front of me. Among them was Marko. His eyes widened. I gave him the slightest shake of my head. I didn't want Nightmare to know I had come specifically for him.
"But that is not what makes you interesting," Nightmare continued. "What interests me is the mark of my fellow Fear Lord, the Dweller-in-Darkness."
Right. I'd forgotten about that.
I had received the mark after defeating the Dweller-in-Darkness's clone. It was essentially a curse.
The System had issued a notification when the clone died.
Because of the user's actions, the Dweller-in-Darkness lost his chance to escape imprisonment and re-enter the physical world. The Dweller-in-Darkness has marked the user.
Consequences:
The mark will be visible to all Fear Lords and the Dweller-in-Darkness's cultists.The Dweller-in-Darkness's cultists are now hostile to the user.Individual Fear Lords may regard the user as an enemy and may respond with hostility.
Nightmare took a step forward. I couldn't help but take half a step back.
"This mark is centuries old, yet your soul is remarkably young. It is powerful enough to pass to your descendants. But an inherited mark, even if similarly potent, is merely an echo. This one was carved directly into your soul."
Great, so unless I remove the mark, my descendants are also cursed with it.
Nightmare vanished and reappeared inches from my face, one hand already locked around my throat. "Fascinating... you wear an ancient mark upon a young soul. You have crossed the boundaries of time itself. Travelers such as you are exceedingly rare."
I was only an astral projection, yet Nightmare's grip made my nonexistent lungs scream for air. He lifted me by the throat, then tossed me aside like a sack of potatoes. I coughed violently.
When I recovered, Nightmare was gone. Nightmare had returned to the battlefield, where Strange had already finished off the crimson beast.
Strange pulled a sash from within his robes. He unfurled it with a flick. The sash stretched across the void, anchoring one end to the stone path and the other to the suspended platform.
"Stay on the path," Strange warned. "If you stray from it, even I may not be able to find you." Then he turned to face Nightmare.
Strange was no match for Nightmare within his own realm, but he didn't need to win. He only needed to keep him occupied long enough for the captives to escape.
The captives crossed the sash one by one, but Marko remained on the platform. I followed the updated route through the void and reached the platform.
Marko opened his mouth, but I spoke first. "We'll talk later. First, let's get out of here."
Marko nodded, sprinted across the sash, and followed the stone path away from the battle.
The route on my map had updated, too. It now followed the sash onto Strange's stone path. My earlier assumption had only been half right. The System had transported me into the Dream Dimension, but it wouldn't carry us back out. Escaping was part of the mission.
The mission was to rescue Marko. Finding Marko had only completed the first half. I still had to get him out of the Dream Dimension safely. That's why when I met him, the first objective was completed and the route updated to show me the fastest way out, which was the way used by Dr. Strange.
I raced across the sash and followed Marko onto the narrow stone path.
A smoky white portal shimmered at the far end of the path. It was most likely the portal Strange had used to enter the Dream Dimension.
Naturally, it wasn't going to be that easy. A stray attack from Nightmare destroyed a portion of the stone path. Without Strange's enchanted path, the captives had no safe way to cross the Dream Dimension. They panicked and started looking around for Strange.
I wasn't worried. The route on my map recalibrated, tracing a new course through empty space—one just as absurd and convoluted as the path I had followed earlier.
"Everyone, listen!" I shouted over the commotion. My voice cut through the rising panic. "Follow me and step exactly where I step. If you deviate even once, whatever happens is on you."
Marko nodded. He trusted me enough not to question it. But to the others, I was essentially a stranger. Their expressions made it clear they didn't trust me.
I had no time to babysit them. I had come for Marko. Whether the others escaped was none of my concern. I ignored the others and gestured for Marko to follow me.
I reached the broken edge of the stone path and stepped out over the gap. The group gasped as my foot settled on an invisible surface beyond the broken path.
Marko hesitated, then placed one foot exactly where mine had landed. His eyes widened when his foot met solid resistance in empty air. The others stared in disbelief.
I moved carefully, giving Marko time to place each step exactly where I had. The others exchanged uncertain glances. Then, one by one, they followed our steps.
The invisible route eventually brought us onto the intact section of stone beyond the gap.
Behind us, Strange raised the Amulet of Agamotto and unleashed a burst of light that temporarily blinded Nightmare. Seizing the opening, Strange sent his sash whipping toward us. It unfurled across the void and anchored itself to the stone path. The sash pulled him across the gap, and he landed beside us without breaking stride. We plunged into the portal.
I woke up with a gasp. I was back in the chair beside Marko's bed. Beside me, Marko jerked awake, drenched in sweat.
"Marko!" his mother, Mallorie, cried as she threw her arms around him. His father, Roman, and his uncle Niko quickly joined the embrace.
—
After dropping Felicia off at her place, I headed straight to the meeting point Kara, Jessica, and I had agreed on.
I'd planned to get a little rest before the big event at midnight, but life happened. At least I wasn't late for the meeting.
I parked near the park and headed inside.
"Hey, girls," I called to the two women sitting on a park bench. "You ready for it?"
Kara and Jessica smiled when they saw me. They stood, and each gave me a kiss in greeting.
"We are," Jessica said.
"Good." I nodded. "Then let's do it."
*********************
[Author's Notes]
Would you work at the Blank Executive's office?