A shifting glimmer of refracting sunlight caught my attention as Jack’s car zoomed past me. For a moment, I thought I saw my reflection in the window. Then, I realized it wasn’t a reflection at all–it was me.

The moment I understood, the world shifted, and I was looking out the window. I pressed my fingertips to the cool glass, pushing my forehead off. I turned to my right to see Bearard bucked in the middle seat, zoned out. I blinked and looked down at my lap, noticing a brightly light new cellphone. I picked it up, scrolling through the apps to open one I didn’t recognize. I seemed to know how to use it, however, and dexterously shifted through settings until hundreds of red dots appeared on the map.

When I looked at Bearard again, his golden eyes were unusually bright.

I opened my mouth to speak and dropped deeper into the dream. The two golden lights stayed fixed in front of me while reality collapsed and rebuilt around them. Bearard’s face shifted from that of a fluffy and tattered teddy to the robust, shiny metallic chrome of the robots.

The robot’s gaze focused on me; the fragment reached out desperately from behind the cold body.

It couldn’t speak, but I heard the ‘Help me’ all the same.

Tiny bits of golden dust, like golden strands of sand or stardust, trickled steadily out of the eyes. It almost looked like the fragment was weeping.

I reached my hand out, catching some of the stardust. It felt warm, sad, and lost.

The scenery around me grew clearer, and the colors a little brighter. A metal arm reached out and brushed against the side of my face.

Rather than feeling panicked, I felt an immeasurable pain and sadness radiating from where the fragment frantically tried to keep as much of itself together as it could.

‘Help me,’ it cried silently.

Remembering how I’d done this the last time, I focused and pulled. Ever so slowly, the shimmering gold tricked back up into the chromium skull. In this dream, there wasn’t much more I could do.

‘More.’

Golden particles swirled around me, and the dream faded to black.

I stood in an infinitely starry sky that stretched forever in every direction.

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A star shot down from the heavens, and I caught it in my hands.

When the glow died, I saw the tiny golden dragon I’d met so long ago in Heirs. Although it looked no more solid than the day I’d first seen it, it wasn’t shedding stardust anymore.

The tiny dragon stretched to look me in the eye and slowly used its snout to point at something near my feet. I looked down for the stars beneath to come rushing up at me. The light grew blindingly bright.

The dream grew closer to ending, and the previously sharp and crystal clear surroundings grew duller while some of my senses grew a little sharper.

I came back to myself a little.

A few of the stars–no, the fragments–slowly drifted away.

“Wait!” I called out to them. “Why me?”

The knowledge brushed my mind; the dream ended.

I stared blankly at the sliver of sunlight on the ceiling. The dream I’d just had started to slip away from my grasp, and I grabbed the remaining threads. If I had my phone, or a piece of paper, or a pencil, I would have written it down. As it was, I kept replaying the entirety of the dream in my head just to keep ahold of it.

This, I felt, was one that faded as soon as you stopped thinking about it.

When I felt my thoughts were tethered enough for now, I paced across the living room floor and into the kitchen, quietly looking for something to write with and repeating the thoughts in my head.

I was contemplating how successful I’d be writing on a paper towel when I was interrupted.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped, nearly losing hold of my thoughts. Cove stepped out from behind me, looking concerned.

“Looking for something to write with.”

“I see.”

Cove disappeared for a few seconds before returning with a pen and some paper. I gratefully took the objects and sat, quickly writing down the most significant bits from my dream.

“Did something happen?” He asked, with extra emphasis on the ‘pen.’

I cringed, losing my grasp on the thoughts. I remembered seeing the robot, Bearard, and there was something else…

“Hey.”It was Mattie, this time, who’d snuck up behind me. She pointed at the pen I was using. “Can you stop that?”

I paused and looked down where I’d been mindlessly tapping the pen against the table. I sighed and set it down. The thoughts were gone for now, anyway.

The master bedroom door clicked open, and a yawning Jack exited through the door. Upon seeing us all crowded around the table, he did a double take. “Did something happen?”

Cove and Mattie shrugged. “Ask him,” Mattie said, pointing at me.

“I was trying to write down a dream before I forgot.”

Curious, Jack paced to the table and leaned over my shoulder to read what I’d written. Understanding crossed his face. “You saw Berard and his piece?” he tilted his head as he thought for a second. “Do you think you can track the location?”

I shook my head. “If I saw it, maybe. But I don’t know the city well enough.”

I bit my lip, and flipped the piece of paper over. My eyes flicked back up to look at the group, and I caught each of their eyes. “If I draw it, do you think you can recognize it?” I asked Mattie.

She took a few minutes to consider. “Maybe?”

It was good enough for me. Blocking them out as best I could, I created a loose sketch of the robot and his background, grateful that I’d had Sky teach me. When I was finished, I looked over it with a critical eye. It wasn’t very good, but it wasn’t terrible.

Satisfied, I flipped it around and slid it off to the side for the others to see.

Mattie scrutinized it briefly, her face scrunching up as she thought. Finally, she leaned against the table, defeated, “I don’t recognize it, sorry.”

Jack patted her shoulder as he slipped back into the kitchen, cabinets, and pans clanking as he started to make breakfast. When we’d finished eating, Jack stood over the table and asked exuberantly, “Who’s ready to go robot hunting?