I sometimes wonder if there are others who escape reality in the same manner as I do. I have heard from friends, family, and coworkers that they use technology, go on walks, overeat, and other such activities to escape reality; however, I have never heard of anyone using lucid dreaming to do so.

Perhaps it is because lucid dreaming is a rare occurrence in everyday life and the only people who are aware of it are scientists and other professionals who have done research on the subject. Or just everyday folks who have done some online research on it.

Though I have not yet seen a single comment mentioning that they use it to escape reality, the majority of lucid dreamers claim that they only use it for things that they are unable to accomplish in real life.

I would categorise myself as a lucid dreamer addict at this point. When I was in my late teens, I used to use lucid dreaming as a way to escape reality. However, as it became more and more common for me to simply have lucid dreams all the time, it turned into more of a past time. Nevertheless, I still use lucid dreaming as a way to escape reality since I have a stressful office job.

My lucid dreams always have the same pattern: I wake up in a large room with silver walls and a wooden floor, and I sit there staring out a massive doorway at the clouds and the blue shade that seems to go on forever. I have been immersing myself in a vivid world I created nine years ago, every now and then.

It is the same world as those found in fantasy realms, complete with dwarves, elves, and demons, but instead of creating individual creatures because I was lazy, I just made a robot clone of myself to do the job. I suppose I am some sort of god.

I do not really have a name for my world; at times, I just refer to it as Lancelot World. "Lancelot" is simply an ancestor of my name, Lance.

“Oi, Lance, are you alright there? You’ve been daydreaming for fifteen minutes now.” I looked up from my hands, the lightness in my eyes awakened by a grumpy voice that sounded like a bullet and revealed a desk strewn with incomplete documents, as if a bomb had exploded. I was in a daze, staring at the monitor's reflection with my head empty, two black, soulless eyes staring back at me beneath the thick, bloated paragraphs of text that filled the screen.

I scowled and rubbed the area between my eyebrows as a slight headache began to creep in. Then, I slowly turned to look to my left and noticed a chubby, slumped man wearing a black suit, black tie, thin hair, and gloomy grey eyes hidden behind square glasses.

“Ah.. yeah, I am fine…” I laughed tiredly, letting out a lazy lie, as I could hear the weariness in my voice. My supervisor merely gazed at me, clearly not having faith in me, and he then pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Mate… You don’t have to force yourself, yeah? We ain’t in some writing competition right now; you don’t need to work hard. Look, since it looks like you are fatigued, I’ll let you take a break, alright?” With a sigh, my supervisor patted me on the shoulder closest to him and took out his phone to call a cab.

“Ah… You don’t have to do that… I can drive home-”

“Shut it, you little bugger. You think I am going to let you drive home in that state? You want to die or something? Don’t worry; I’ll keep your car safe here, mate.” My supervisor spoke to me in a tone that was almost demanding, but I could tell it was a genuine concern.

With a sigh, I nodded and sat back in my chair, letting my sleep slowly pull me down into the dark depths where light never shines. Eight minutes had gone by before I realised it.

“Lance, the taxi is here. Get home safe, alright?” With a sullen look on his face and a sliver of a smile, my boss stood in front of me as though I were his son. Wordlessly, I nodded, turned off the computer, and walked out of the building, feeling the chill hit me all over when I saw the taxi pulled up in front of me. I made my way to the back door of the cab, opened it, and climbed in sluggishly, leaning awkwardly on my right shoulder as I felt my body nearly crumble from tiredness. My sense of hearing and seeing had completely stopped; my mind was just going blank, gradually becoming completely dark.

When I said that I worked in a stressful office, I did not mean that the office itself was stressful—my boss and my coworkers are incredible people who have helped me become a better writer—I meant that it was stressful because of me. Since birth, I have experienced a peculiar syndrome that causes me to become extremely focused on one thing until I become physically and mentally exhausted. I have had numerous brain scans, but no doctor has been able to identify the issue I have, so occasionally, when I concentrate too much, I will turn into the person I am today.

And the fact that I have to make my colleagues endure this and watch me deteriorate like this just makes me feel guilty. I detest everything about my condition because I can not stop it; once I get focused, I literally lose consciousness, as if I were under the influence of someone.

I don’t like it at all.

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“Lance, it is nice to see you again.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

It was a voice that was just like mine, but it had absolutely no humanity to it—rather, it was a voice that was hollow, almost robotic. I already knew where I was; I was in a lucid dream.

My eyes gradually opened, taking in the stunning view of nothing but blue stretching out in front of me, interspersed with white puffy clouds that formed gorgeous, natural patterns as they dotted the blue sky.

Slowly, as if I had been born again, I sat up and looked around the empty room, seeing only two patterns of colour: the colourless grey wall and the brown wooden floor.

“LanceBot, are you sure you don’t want some stuff in this room?” I asked, turning to face the large doorway. There, I saw a perfect reflection of myself: a thin man with pale skin, scruffy brown hair, blue jeans, and a white baggy shirt without any shoes or socks. The only thing that set the reflection apart from me, though, were his blue, glowing eyes that never once blinked as he stared at me.

"I am positive. I am a robot built to have no human emotions, and I have no desire or interest in using any human-made technology." I pushed myself onto my feet, and LanceBot responded in monotone, just standing there like a doll.

“Sure… Anyway, how is my world doing? Any new developments?” I murmur as I pass LanceBot and approach the doorway's edge. I do not feel even the tiniest breeze as I look down and see a small glass globe that contains a world with flat areas covered in greenery, snow-capped mountain ranges, and golden-coloured dunes. It was the world I created nine years ago, at the age of sixteen, and it is a world I cherish more than Earth.

Lancelot.

"Not right now, no, just that the rumours of your existence have grown so much that even the demons you specifically created to be savages have begun to worship the Lanceton Religion." Standing to my left and staring down at the world as well, LanceBot responded indifferently.

It shocked me to learn that there was a religion based on me in the early days of my lucid dreams, and I was a little alarmed at first, but I eventually grew accustomed to it because it is not like these creatures are real.

However, I wish it were real because this world has a very different feel to it than what I expected—it was meant to be an RPG fantasy setting where elves and humans battle demons. However, things turned out quite differently. After a period of time during which there was warfare between all races, humans, elves, and demons all decided to show forgiveness to one another and begin helping those in need, destroying the evil and fostering the good. All of the royalty, empresses, emperors, and nobility were merely benevolent and kind to one another. Even organisations that were thought to be criminal were actually quite nice; they hardly ever engaged in conflict and instead aimed to better their communities by helping one another.

“You are in deep thought again, I see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinking about how amazing this world is.”

"There is no need to apologise; the world you made, Lancelot, is the most real experience anyone could have, even though I am just something you made up and not real. I would have cherished being in your care if I were real."

I was at a loss for words. Was I really the creator of this? This exact replica of myself stands in front of me, gazing at me nonstop and not showing any signs of doubt in his eyes. Was it really possible for me to create something so amazing?

Did I make him to be my friend? For what purpose did I create him again? Was he the person I wanted to be when I created him? Someone who remains calm under all circumstances?

Then, as though my mind had run amok and I had a million questions, one of them was finally resolved.

One that I believed was impossible.

"What if all of those babies' cries—from the savage demon babies to the wise human babies to the magical elf babies—as well as all of those creatures' combined thoughts and minds—their senses, histories, and beliefs—from sadness to happiness to rage, from the beginning of time to the end of time—were to come true?” LanceBot continued talking while staring me in the eyes and then turning to face me with his whole body.

“Huh..?”

“Do you want it to become reality?”

"Obviously... However, that is not possible; you are all just part of my dreams.”

"What if that fantasy came true? Imagine for a moment that Lancelot's existence—the reality you constructed beneath you—became true. What if the real world and your lucid world combined?"

“Uh… That would never happen…”

His mouth, which remained rigid for what seemed like an eternity from the moment I created him, and his eyes—those blue balls that never once displayed an iota of emotion—at the very moment I spoke, he smiled, a warm, sincere smile.

"Then, Lance, let it happen—let our realities collide. Let your world encounter the real universe ruler, a man so serene that he could make demons turn to good, and the true world of peace. Lance, let us prove to Earth who the true god is. Tell them who you are—the Lucid Enlightened, the King of Dreams, the God of Lucid. Let the works of your hands reveal the true nature of God.”

“What are you going on about…?” That was all the words I could manage before I began to feel drowsy and weak, my muscles thinning and weakening until I fell to the ground.

"You, Lance, are the real God of the universe, and you alone should live."

"May Earth become one with Lancelot and obtain your blessing, God be praised."

"The only deity worthy of worship is you."

Those were the last words I heard before I passed out, and in those last seconds, I saw his eyes once more. His eyes, which are full of fierce loyalty and happiness, looked deep into my eyes as if he could read my soul.

What have I done..?