When Laurent regained consciousness, he was still in the nightmare. His body was wracked by pain. Sophie’s father was still lost in his dying mind, but his projected body was tied by heavy chains to a butcher's table in the basement of the haunted house. The light and the boy were gone. The nightmare had resumed its flow as if the boy had never interrupted it.

Above Laurent's prone body lingered one of the masked killers. It was wearing dirty blue medical scrubs stained with dirt, oil, and blood. In its left hand, it was holding a tile grinding tool.

The basement was dark and foul-smelling. A single light bulb flickered uncertainly from overhead. Laurent was still reeling from the encounter with the boy on the upper floor. He didn't know what to think of it. Laurent looked around and saw he was alone with the beast. At least the monster was not torturing the boy or a simulacra of Sophie. With the push of a button, the grinder wheel began to spin with a monotonous high-pitched wail. The noise was intolerable, and the torture began at once.

The next few minutes became hazy as Laurent's world shrunk to the precise dimensions of conscious, rational thought that the tile grinder allowed him. The butcher took his time to cut away the skin and the bones of his legs. The pain was beyond maddening, but somehow in this dream state, Laurent did not pass out. He yelled and gibbered in agony for what felt like an eternity. As if to admire his work, the butcher regularly stopped cutting and took a step back while tilting its head. At some point, the ugly creature removed the blood-covered mask, revealing his mummified face. It licked some of the blood from the mask, smiled hideously, and resumed.

This was pointless, Laurent thought. He'd only just arrived a few hours ago, by his best guess, and already he felt himself beginning to crack. He began to cry. He felt something else, as well: pure, unadulterated rage.

Then the basement door creaked open.

The sound was not part of the regular string of events of this nightmare, so it was a relief to the suffering Laurent. Unable to turn his head, Sophie's father heard the footsteps of someone walking down the creaky stairs. The monster acted as if he did not hear the steps.

From the corner of his eye, through the sweat and blood, Laurent saw the boy and part of his diffuse light descending the steps. The light around the boy was almost gone, but there remained a glow which filled the darkness of the basement. The boy stared detachedly at Laurent's dismembered body as if he was unaware of the horror.

"Get away," Laurent managed to croak. Most of his teeth were now broken, and he was spitting blood. "Save yourself."

"Why?" answered the boy.

"He will get you."

"Who?"

The grinder began buzzing again. The boy did not seem to hear its awful shrieking whine. That was a good thing.

"Help me!" begged Laurent as the cutting tool dug into what remained of his left arm. Blood splattered the walls and oozed from his mouth. With rising panic, he realized he was losing grasp with reality.

"You are Laurent? I saw you in her mind," spoke the angel. "You are the original progenitor of the one called Sophie?"

Laurent was weak, barely conscious. The words hurt him. "Yes," he whispered as blood bubbled down his face. He saw the boy walk closer and touch him gently. The touch sent electrical current. There was an organic connection.

Then there was silence.

The horror and the nightmares evaporated.

***

Once more, Laurent swam back toward consciousness. This time, however, he awoke to find his body whole. The blood and the horror around him were gone. He was unsure of how long he had slept but counted each second of it as a blessing nonetheless. He was dressed in a long blue robe, and he stood barefoot on his favorite beach. Water and sand were crawling gently between his toes. This wasn’t his ordinary reality, it felt more real.

The young blond boy stood silently at his side, holding his right hand. Laurent looked down at his face. The young guest was dressed in a pair of white shorts and a worn out and over-washed t-shirt that might have once been light purple. The mysterious guest's shorts and T-shirt were oddly familiar; looking at it from closer, they were once his. This was how Laurent liked to dress at home in his recliner. The borrowed version was a partly scaled-down version.

Ahead the island peeking off a perfect sea was Bora-Bora, the was the most luxurious place on Earth. The surf was rolling in gently, carrying the warm water just to the edge of where they walked. The waxing tide softly brushed their feet as they strolled aimlessly. The feeling of water in and of itself was remarkable. After nearly fourth imaginary years without any feeling or sensation in his digital world, he felt human once more. An hour ago he would have scoffed over the notion that any artificial environment could best Electoral's for accuracy and realism, yet here he walked, still marveling at the delicious sensation of warm water on his feet, an ocean breeze mussing his hair, and silky-fine sand between his toes.

He slipped from Hell to Heaven in seconds.

He smiled at his guest. Laurent stopped walking for a moment and twisting his ankles he dug his feet into the warm, wet sand. The boy loved to see Sophie's father smile. There was no greater pleasure to him. The clean, tropically aroma of this place's air filled his lungs. Laurent was in paradise, a complete reversal of fortune than the cemetery house basement from only a few moments ago. He felt stronger and more whole than he had in ages.

He looked around and realized that not only was this next to Tahiti but more specifically, this was the beach that Marilyn often brought him to during his extremely delicate rehabilitation following his accident. In the distance was an irregular volcano that resembled nothing so much as the top of an ornate crown. The volcano featured a massive stone arch under which a small plane could fly. She liked to make an entrance, occasionally utilizing the archway for one of her trademark introductions. The arch, being something wholly of Electoral's creation, confirmed for Laurent that he was still in the digital world and not somehow alive or in heaven. The trees of the forest to the right were lush and brimmed with the sound of animal and insect life.

He could feel a consistent pulse of energy traveling up his right arm, from where the boy held him. It was clear that the boy was the source of this vision, and was somehow feeding it directly into Laurent's brain as energy running up his arm. Even clothed with the form and trappings of humanity, it was obvious that this boy was different. The mere fact that the child's first attempt at an immersive digital reality had outgunned Marilyn's version spoke volumes. This was special on many levels.

Laurent touched his own face; he was freshly shaved. No words came to him. He could only savor this reality. Laurent forced himself to turn his attention to his little savior. The kid was cute. Laurent was struck with the impression that the boy couldn't decide whether to fall into his arms crying, or flash a brilliant smile and skip his way down the beach. His eyes were blue, his hair was now cut short. This was the same boy he had seen in the second floor of the rotten nightmare house, but the child was now more beautiful. He was radiant.

Could this be some kind of digital offspring from Electoral? No other immediate possibilities came to mind.

"Daddy?" asked the boy speaking from memory. Laurent smiled.

"My name is Laurent Lapierre. You saved me. Thank you."

"Are you Daddy?"

"You may call me daddy if you want. That would be fine with me."

"Sophie calls you Daddy. Where are we?"

He wasn't sure but ventured a guess. "We are both in my mind. I am a human who lives with his mind connected to virtual reality, though mine is not quite so...robust...as this one,” said Laurent as a close breaker threw forward a fine spray of mist.

"I am confused. I do not understand."

"You and I both my fortunate friend. I think we have a lot of time. I fear if you let my hand go, I may return to a bad place. For the moment, we must touch our hands, do you mind?"

The boy released his grip carefully, and Laurent plunged immediately back into the darkness of the humid cemetery. He was back in horror. Seconds later, he felt the boy grab his hand, and he was back on the beach.

"I do not understand," the boy repeated.

"We have time," replied Laurent. "That is the one thing we have here. Why don't you tell me your name, if you have one?"

"Malik. I am a Metil from the Purple world." As if the boy was under a compulsion to continue, he said, "Can you draw me a sheep?"

"What?"

"Can you draw me a sheep?"

The sea was gone. They were no longer on a beach. Instead, they were in the middle of a nameless desert. He recognized the boy's new appearance. He was The Little Prince, a character from one of Sophie's favorite bedtime stories. This was strange. Laurent was somehow talking to a fictional character. He'd gone from a horror movie to a child's bedtime story in the blink of an eye. In Laurent's other hand was a long wooden stick, a shepherd's staff. "Draw me a sheep," insisted the boy.

Laurent drew something in the sand below their feet.

"That is not a sheep."

This was too strange. Was he playing some kind of imagery drawn from his own memories? Laurent found it difficult not to do as the boy asked, given that the child had saved him from the nightmare. So that he might draw better, he let go of the child's hand. Instantly, he was back in the dark cemetery. In the distance, the wild dogs began to howl and bay as they caught his scent. Curiously, though, the boy was still standing next to him. He was oblivious to the horror of the place. The boy was pointing to the ground where Laurent had drawn a sheep. Laurent would not, could not, stay here; anywhere else was better. He grabbed the small hand and instantly returned back to the beach. Whatever was going on, anything was better than that abominable place of mutilation.

"Draw me a sheep!"

"Malik," he used the name to get the creature's attention. It worked. "Be careful. We are in my dream, and my mind was hurt a short time ago. It remains injured to this day. I think you are helping yourself and may be learning by looking at memories. I would love to see the real you." The boy looked up at the Sun in the sky, it was a strange color; yellow did not exist in the quantum realm.

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Malik partly understood what the human said. In Sophie's head, the impressions from the mind made it clear that Laurent was fragile. Malik's features slowly changed; he now had black eyes and black hair. The boy's beauty faded to be replaced by a truly average looking boy. This wasn't what Laurent had asked for, but Malik lacked the vocabulary, at present, to describe exactly how different from Laurent he was. If Malik had shown him his true form, Laurent would be left with a firefly-sized flashing light that he had no hope of holding hands with.

"Much better, you remind me of my daughter."

The boy also looked hurt. His hand was holding his ribs.

"Are you fine? Do you know who you are?"

"Yes. I am a Metil. A creature from a different world, a different reality. I was tasked with monitoring a rift that opened between your world and ours. I escaped in it. If I ever return home, I will be killed," he finished with resentment. Laurent was impressed by the clarity of the explanation.

"You are not related to Electoral? Or Marilyn?"

"I do not know these names. I have never seen you before, yet I know you," said the child.

"You do?"

The decor changed. The pair were at a small state fair back on Earth. All around them were rides, games. Hundreds of families enjoying a perfect afternoon. Laurent knew this place; he had been here several years ago. Malik's virtual creation of the memory was leagues above Marilyn's worlds; he could feel the joy of the attendants in the air.

"You are him!" the boy pointed with a finger at one of the kiosks. A happy family was buying popcorn. Laurent saw Sophie. She was eight years old. Susan, his ex-wife, was there. He saw his former self reach into his wallet to pay for the food. The recent trauma from his nightmares helped him keep his composure. This was the happiest day of his life. "You are the one Sophie calls Daddy. This is where I saw you the clearest in her mind." Moments ago he had been consumed by his own despair, and now he was reliving one of the most joyous moment of his life.

"You know Sophie?"

"Yes, I spoke to her moments ago. I read her memories."

"She is my daughter. I love her," offered Laurent.

The boy wrestled with the concept for a moment. "Love. Yes, we also have something similar in my world. The Sophie loves you also, that is undeniable. There is also more, a bond. The strongest of links."

Laurent's eyes began to tear up. The boy looked at him, puzzled by his reaction. "This is good," said Laurent, as if to reassure the boy.

"This world, these..."

"Emotions," said Laurent.

"Your world is so different, so... beautiful."

The memories were somewhat askew, vis-a-vis reality, Laurent noticed. He looked around in the amusement park and saw that these images were not his. The colors were brighter, the candy larger. This was the fair of Sophie as she recalled it; a memory built by the mind of a child. Laurent was unable to say anything intelligent. The boy looked at him.

"Thank you," said Laurent finally.

"Why?"

"To me, this memory is extremely pleasing. A good memory."

"Daddy, why is Sophie now bigger?"

The question startled him and he pointed at the unfolding images from the carnival. "Sophie is my child. This is Susan, her mother. We are the two parents of Sophie. Our children come out small from the body of the mother and with years get bigger."

"You reproduce in pairs?" The boy continued. "That must be very... convenient."

"In your world, there is more than two needed to reproduce?"

"Yes. Each of us is different. I was created by three groups. I am different, an outcast. All the many of the groups who united to create me passed at the time of my awakening."

"Is that a problem?"

"Yes. Sad. We rarely have death. We are simply forced to dilute ourselves to form many others as a penalty of destruction."

"I am sorry to hear that." The boy was trying to hold tears.

"That is my shame to bear. In my life, I may not take part in any reproduction ritual, but I will give parts to the new entities." Laurent felt there was no point in pressing the issue.

So he'd been wrong, earlier. The artificial intelligence on Mars had no part in this creature. He was talking to some type of alien, someone from a different world. Maybe he was dead, or he could simply be dreaming in a state in which his mind was protecting him. The cause was not important; Malik sounded as though he needed help since he could only return home on pain of death.

Laurent saw his family pay for the candy and his former self-board a ride with Sophie. Holding Malik's hand firmly, Laurent and the alien followed from a distance. The family passed the barriers and sat in a ride made of large cups. Above them, a large sign read "Wonderland."

"I know these creatures." pointed Malik at the large caterpillar sitting on a giant mushroom.

“You do?”

“They were with Sophie.” Laurent smiled and knew better than question a child.

"Do you want to try?" said Laurent, pointing at the ride.

"You think I will like it?"

"Yes." They walked over. The dream was so elaborate, they interacted as normal patrons. They boarded a different cup.

"Malik, hold the ring in the middle." It was hard for Laurent to keep his eyes on the boy. The vicinity of his family was a distraction.

The ride began as the pair held a finger on the central ring. Malik was amused. Laurent let the boy enjoy the ride. He could not touch his daughter, but as the giant cups moved closer, he was able to feel alive. He knew this little creature was an orphan, rejected from his world and now a castaway in a reality that must be terribly confusing. Laurent's paternal instincts were kicking in. The man had found the one creature in the universe more vulnerable than his poor self. Their reunion wasn't to his benefit, he was helping the boy. He smiled at Malik, placed his hand on his shoulder and decided he would let himself be human.

Laurent's emotions were genuine and immediately his kindness was felt by the visitor. Malik looked up as his new friend, his only friend and smiled. Sophie was so lucky. The boy truly enjoyed being with Laurent.

"Are you hungry?" asked Laurent as the ride began to slow down. He knew the child's attention had to be grasped or he would sit in the cup for hours. The boy had no clue. They disembarked, Malik did so somewhat reluctantly. Laurent changed the topic. "You talked about a rift?"

"Yes. This is how I arrived here. My world is different, not like this."

"Maybe you can show me. We are in my dream, you seem to control of what we see. If you wish for me to see your world, maybe...."

In the blink of the eye, the Michigan Fair disappeared. Laurent no longer had a body. He was floating in a purple hue. There were no forms, no shapes as if he was back in the darkness. He heard the voice of Malik.

"This is my world," he said with apprehension. Laurent tried very hard not to panic.

"Do not let go of me."

"I will not," Malik reassured him.

"I like it," Laurent lied. "Where are we?"

"Let me see." Some of the colors shifted. Laurent felt like he was a shark floating in the sea. He had a sixth sense, much like the smell of a shark smelling blood. He had many deep feelings, he just was unable to understand them. Whatever was this world and these life forms, Malik was quite different.

"We move by willing it. We drift. Let me show you."

Laurent was taken over by the strangest feeling. Like walking off a cliff and falling without moving, the sea of purple surrounding him changed. Small balls became larger and larger. It was as if he had been dropped into a large cube filed with Ping-Pong balls and each was either expanding or shrinking to the size of a grain of sand.

"I hope the others do not find us."

"We are not in your world. We are still in my mind."

"You think. Found it," said Malik. "You see?" Laurent did not see anything different. "Now we move to the right." Laurent was lost. No wonder Malik failed to understand his nightmare.

"Let's not get close to home. I do not want them to see me," Malik said.

"This is not your world, Malik. We are still dreaming. We are still in my mind."

“What is dreaming?" the boy asked. Laurent had given a lot of thought to the question.

"My species evolved on a planet that rotates on itself around a large energy source: we call it the Sun. As a result, we have daylight periods where our Sun gives light and heat, and nighttime periods when we must place ourselves in a waiting state until the energy returns. During our pauses at nighttime, which we call “sleep,” our bodily functions are slowed and we do not move. Some of our biological systems are barely still functioning at that point. Our minds must also pause and function in a different stage, known as dreaming."

"Please continue, this is very interesting." Laurent did not like this purple haze.

He continued. "During our dreams, we are capable of imagination, of projecting to ourselves illusory sounds and images. The only limit lies in the individual dreamer's capacity to imagine. Our race does not really understand the process of dreaming. My physical body was greatly damaged in an accident. I entered what seemed to be a permanent dream state. I am the only human permanently in the dream."

"That may explain what happened on your ship," Malik said.

"What?"

"When I first visited your world and passed the rift, I entered the mind of the Sophie. It was a beautiful place, a strange place she calls Wonderland. I do not know why I have this knowledge or why I can communicate in this strange language. We had an interaction. I was able to see many images from her life. I saw you." He paused, then resumed. "When I returned with others from the Group, I was forced to escape from them and return to your ship. I slipped into the first person I saw, he was not the same color as the Sophie. Unlike with the Sophie, that person's mind seemed closed to me. I pushed very hard to open it. I broke something. I heard the person say many things before everything turned to black. I looked around, and I saw you. You had a different color."

"This is very hard to understand," admitted Laurent. He did not know about the death of the fellow passenger back on the ship.

"Agreed."

"But I thank you for coming to me," Laurent said sincerely.

"So this is not my world?" asked Malik. "This is your imagination, your dream state only?"

"Yes. Well, I think so."

"Daddy, that is impossible. After I visited Wonderland, the Sophie followed me into my world."

"What?" Laurent exclaimed.

"Yes, as I left her, left her dream or her mind, she followed me to this place. I convinced her to go back."

"Did she? Is she okay?"

"I believe so. She even hurt me, but I could tell that it was not her desire. I know now that the rift is a door between your world and mine. Yet we are back in my world, it seems. How can you know whether you are in the real world or in your dream world?"

"Good question," said Laurent. "Little is known by us of our dream state. Our minds are capable of pushing us out of the dream each time we are in danger of dying. Our minds wake us up if we die in a dream. My mind cannot wake me up."

"So when you die in the dream, you return to your physical world? When you die in your physical world, where do you go?"

"I do not know."

"This is strange."

"What?"

Laurent felt something in the distance. It was as if he were standing next to a forest fire, unable to see and hear the fire, yet he could smell the smoke and feel the radiative heat.

"They are here."

"Who?"

"The Group."

Laurent felt the boy's fear. They were back in hostile territory.

"Take me back!" Laurent implored to the boy.

In a blink of the mind, they both were back on the beach generated by Laurent's mind away from the creatures. The sky was blue. But Malik was his normal self.

Laurent and Malik both knew they had not only flew back to the Purple, but they were also a thought away from his real world. Both avoided the discussion on purpose. "Your world is much better than mine," said Malik.

"I know. But this beautiful beach is only my version of things. Reality is much different. Want me to take you to my favorite place in my world?"

"Yes... Daddy."

He did not deserve to be called by this name, Sophie would not approve, but Laurent could not get himself to correct the boy. Instead, he just squeezed the small hand.

"If you are going to call me Daddy, you will need to call..." the next words were difficult to say. The image of the small tombstone from the cemetery in his nightmare was on the forefront of his mind. "You will have to refer to Sophie as sister next time we see her." The situation was surreal to Laurent. He would cross that bridge with Sophie once they came to it.

Laurent tried to concentrate and change the environment but was unable to do so. "Malik."

"Yes?"

"You decide what we see. Can you wish we were in the location I want to go at the moment?"

The boy closed his eyes. The first thing that came to him was music. There was diffuse light and soft guitar. When the alien opened his eyes, he was high on a mountaintop overlooking Rio de Janeiro. Above them stood the famous Christ the Redeemer statue, its arms forever open in silent benediction. The sun was rising. In the sky, hundreds of white seagulls were swooping in circles. The sea was deep blue hundreds of feet below his feet.

"This is wonderful," said the boy. “Your world is pure marvel.”

“I know, I wish I could see it again...”

They were alone on the stone ledge. Next to them was a little stone table with two chairs, a table with a chess board on it. The wind was mild and warm.

"If you are to call me daddy, I must treat you like my son."

"Please do."

"Sophie, my daughter, hates playing chess with me. I always dreamt my son would play chess with me. Would you?" He pointed at the board.

"A game?" the boy was amused.

"Yes."

"Nothing would please me more."

Both sat at opposite ends of the table, one hand locked over the board. Laurent began to align the pieces with his free hand. "Unless you have a more urgent place to be?" he continued.

The boy looked around. The beauty of this place was undeniable. "I have all the time in the world." Malik smiled brightly.

"Two worlds, actually!"

Moments ago he was in hell.

Latin music began to play.

Energy was flowing between the pair as the binding began. The music intensified as the Sun rose in the distance over the sea. They were here to stay, and nothing could get these two back to the realities of their respective worlds. Doors were opening, life was changing as the pair played.