When you finally drift off into a fitful sleep, you dream you are back on Earth, but instead of living in the civilization you knew during your lifetime, you are a peasant in the Dark Ages.

You forage for berries in a dark wood, wearing a red riding hood, when you hear a rustling in the leaves. You lift your eyes from the forest floor, and there among the underbrush is a pair of malevolent yellow eyes, accompanied by a set of sharp, pointy teeth.

You turn to run, your basket spilling strawberries underneath your feet as it falls from your hand, red stains marring your slippers where you step on them, and then -- you slip, falling to the ground hard as a hungry howl pierces the woods.

You glance back in time to see a big, shaggy wolf sail through the air, aiming for you with its wide-open jaw, and you grope around desperately for something, anything, but all your hands can reach are thorny branches and strewn berries and it's too late --

Then suddenly you see it, floating in the air before you: a blue box that you know will save you, it has to, because it promises immortality and protection from void vertigo and surely it will keep you safe... right?

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

You glance at the text, and you have just enough time to read, "[Quest] Kill the wolf," before the beast's head punches a hole through the blue box and you swing for it out of sheer desperation, only your hand is not empty, and the axe you're holding takes the monster's head clean off in a single swing.

You stand there, panting, the beast's headless carcass at your feet, and as you look down, you realize that your hands and feet are covered in thick red blood; it wasn't strawberry juice, after all.

[Quest completed], the blue box that pops up now reads, [Congratulations! You have slain the wolf. Rewards: You have unlocked the ability [Never-Ending Nightmare]. You will never wake up!]

Screaming, you turn your back on the blue box and run as far away from it as you can, diving head-first into the stream you encounter so you may end yourself. The waves crash over your head.

---

You shoot up, completely drenched. Your teeth are chattering violently from the cold, and you thrash wildly to escape the current before you realize you are not, in fact, drowning. Instead, your are sitting on wet, muddy ground with your side pressed against cold rock. The constant wooshing of the downpour has stopped, and you think those are the first rays of morning light filtering down between the leaves.

But what snags your attention more than everything else is the big, blue box that you see super-imposed over the forest scene.