The white rabbit appeared—a fur so fluffy, children could cuddle it all day. But this rabbit was alone and scared. It had no home to warm itself, no food to fill its little tummy.

Now, it stood there—right in front of him. Its small nose twitched in rhythm with Nick's heartbeat. Its eyes fixed on the shivering man.

Red bruises marked Nick’s body. The night cold had taken hold. His hair was a tangled mess, his limbs stiff and unmoving. His fingers and toes seemed to grow bluer with each passing second. Time was slipping away from him.

Nick was certain he was dreaming—he just knew it. But he couldn’t wake up.

His body wouldn’t let him.

Normally, at this point, panic would set in. He’d try hurting himself or doing anything to snap out of the dream. But this time, it felt calm.

The rabbit continued staring at him, the cold biting deeper with each second. With no other choice, Nick followed the rabbit.

“As long as we don’t go down a rabbit hole. I don’t want to be hunted by a sociopathic queen,” he joked weakly.

The rabbit suddenly sprinted through a snowfield outside the town. Keeping track of it was almost impossible—white fur against a snowy backdrop. In no time, Nick lost sight of it. He stood in the middle of the snowfield, utterly alone.

Then, out of nowhere, a door appeared.

Finally, warmth, Nick thought, opening the door without hesitation.

Inside was a cozy cabin, wooden furniture filling the space. Nick gasped when he saw the fine china—teacups he had drunk from so often before. And there, sitting in the same chair as always, was his mentor. Only now, there was a second chair.

“Sit down and have some tea with me,” his mentor said.

Nick didn’t think about sitting. All he wanted was to hug him, to feel his presence again—even though his mentor was mostly shadow. But before he could act, his mentor’s voice stopped him.

“You can feel what’s already gone, especially while dreaming. That’s why living while awake is so important,” he said in a flat tone.

Nick wanted to cry. But just being able to speak with him again was enough.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

They sat together, drinking tea in front of the fire. Yet Nick couldn’t feel the warmth. His shivering worsened, but it didn’t matter to him.

“Why didn’t you work with Alice?” Nick asked.

“Time, Nick. Time is the most valuable resource. And I didn’t see her potential as worth my time,” his mentor replied.

“So it wasn’t about her controlling people or her fake purity?” Nick asked, his tone edged with frustration.

“Nick, has the world turned black and white in your eyes? Alice’s ability to control shadows—her essence—is a valuable one. It’s not just destructive. Until now, she’s mainly used it to lock her own shadow into her body, creating a thin layer of essence around herself,” his mentor said calmly.

“How could that possibly be helpful?” Nick pressed.

“Look out the window and tell me what you see,” his mentor said.

Nick sighed, recognizing one of his mentor’s tactics. He glanced outside. “A white snowfield,” he replied.

“And that’s how you see me—white, perfect. And everything that isn’t me, you see as black. You’ve been consumed, Nick. Consumed by your own lies, emotions, and the shadows of others.”

Nick wanted to argue, to tell him it wasn’t true. He turned to apologize, fumbling over his words.

But when he looked back, his mentor was different.

Standing there, mouth agape, his mentor mumbled in a horrific voice, “Consumed. Consumed. Consumed,” over and over again.

Black insects began crawling and flying out of his mentor’s mouth, swarming around Nick. Shadows emerged from his mentor’s body, like hands reaching for him.

Nick tried to run, but his feet left the ground. He couldn’t scream; something blocked his mouth. Sweat poured from his skin as his eyes lost focus. His body felt like it was being torn apart by a pain he had never known before.

A rush of intense cold hit him—colder than anything he had ever felt. The darkness surrounding him was pure ice, biting and clawing at every inch of his body. The shadows ripped at his skin, relentless and merciless. His body stiffened. His thoughts slowed.

“My son, what in the name of the Lord were you thinking, sleeping out here in the cold?” an unfamiliar voice said.

Nick’s eyes fluttered open. A man in priest’s clothing stood over him.

Nick couldn’t speak. His body ached too much.

A nun handed him water and a warm meal.

The dream lingered in Nick’s mind the next morning. He had been lucky—found by the priest, brought into the church, given clean clothes, a blanket, and two warm meals.

His body was still numb in places, and sleeping afterward had been difficult. The shivering had finally stopped after the second meal, but it took time.

Even so, one thing was clear to Nick: the dream had told him what he needed to do.

He had to work with Alice.