Chapter 204 – Floor 30: Part 1
Floor 30 – The Nightmare Realm ‘The Luminous Expanse.’
In the dominion of Stormspire, the citizens whisper of a powerful being known only as ‘The Dreamer,’ an entity whose slumber weaves the fabric of reality itself.
Legends say that if one can traverse the labyrinth of The Dreamer’s nightmares and awaken them, they could reshape reality or avert a looming catastrophe.
The Dreamer has fallen into a deep, malevolent slumber that threatens to unravel the very fabric of both the dreamscape and reality.
As the boundaries between worlds blur, The Dreamer’s nightmares will begin to seep into the waking world. There will be no limits to the havoc and despair The Dreamer will bring to Stormspire and the entire world.
You must journey into the heart of The Dreamer’s nightmare realm, a surreal and ever-shifting landscape shaped by humanity's accumulated fears and desires.
To succeed, you must navigate a world where logic falters, reality itself is fluid, and every corner hides wonders and terrors beyond imagining.
Goal: Find and awaken The Dreamer. Restore balance to Stormspire before the nightmares seep into the waking world and consume reality.
Bonus Goal: The god of Perennial Reveries has summoned you to this land in order to recruit an Apostle. Enlist The Dreamer into the god of Perennial Reveries’ service.
Reward: Word of Power: Devastate (Break/Fear)
You utter a single, powerful word imbued with the raw force of destruction. Upon speaking the Word of Power, choose a point within range, and a wave of catastrophic energy erupts from that location.
Mathew arrived on the edge of the small village, just where the dirt road passed the first house.
There were dozens of cottages built from stone and timber, with thatched roofs and blooming window boxes overflowing with colourful flowers. From the dirt path, cobblestone streets wound through the village, leading to a central square where a large, ancient oak tree stood.
Before he could look around, he could hear screams and the sound of running feet approaching. Villagers were rushing to leave, some carrying others who were clearly injured. Men, women, children, and people of all ages fled from something near the center of the village.
Dressed in old-fashioned clothing, Mathew guessed that he had arrived somewhere that lacked electricity or modern technology. He pushed past the scared citizens of the town and made his way to the source of their panic.
He found the creature in the central square, its figure shadowed by the branches of the oak tree. Bodies surrounded it; the positioning of the lifeless forms told Mathew they were cut down as they tried to flee.
The monster was a terrifying spectre, an amalgamation of shadow and mist that drifted around the square with otherworldly, sinuous grace. Its form was vaguely humanoid but insubstantial. It was composed of swirling, dark vapour that clung to it like a hooded cloak.
Its body seemed to twist and writhe with a life of its own, and the edges would blur and dissolve into the shadows cast by the tree’s branches, making it appear as if it was perpetually emerging from, or merging with, the shadows around it.
Its face, recessed into the depths of its hood, was a ghastly, featureless mask of emptiness save for its eyes. Two burning pinpricks of pale, cold light pierced through the gloom it exuded. Those eyes locked onto Mathew and radiated a sense of deep, malevolent intelligence and sorrow.
The wraith’s presence was accompanied by a chilling, oppressive cold that seemed to sap the warmth and hope from the air. It wasn’t just a physical effect; it sent shivers through Mathew’s soul. His vision trembled, and darkness crept along the edges of his sight.
The spectre’s movements were silent and smooth as it floated just above the ground, leaving no trace of its passage but an eerie, faint mist that lingered for a moment before vanishing. It approached Mathew slowly, deliberately exuding a sense of dread that carried the weight of countless nightmares and unspoken fears.
A hiss emitted from its mouth, a keening wail that echoed off the buildings around them. The temperature plummeted at its call, and a layer of hoarfrost covered the ground around it.
Unaffected by its call, Mathew raised his arm in a perfunctory manner and pointed at the monster.
‘Burn.’
The Word of Power summoned flames that immediately covered the creature’s black cloak. It seemed momentarily shocked by the turn of events and looked as if it were going to make an effort to flee into the shadows.
But the magical fire was too much for it, and in a moment, it was gone from existence, leaving only a faint layer of ashes on the ground before the slight breeze blew them away through the square.
Curiously, in the place where the Spectre perished was a small ‘crack’ in space. There was a mist spilled out from it, and Mathew could see a faint light on the other end as if the crack was a tunnel to another place.
Lowering his arm, Mathew was about to investigate it further when his silver wristband began to vibrate, and a warmth spread along his skin from the object.
You have discovered an entrance to The Dreamer’s Nightmare Realm, ‘The Luminous Expanse.’
The Luminous Expanse is a place where The Dreamer’s subconscious fears, desires and regrets have sculpted a landscape where light and shadow merge in haunting and disorientating ways. A world suspended between twilight and dawn, where reality and dream merge.
Enter the Luminous Expanse and find The Dreamer.
Mathew lowered his arm, sighed deeply, and ran his fingers through his hair. He could feel the Buzz in the back of his neck, the familiar tenseness of the muscles and the goosebumps that accompanied the sensation of mortal peril that warned him not to venture into the dangerous unknown.
Still, Mathew had no choice but to obey. Preparing himself mentally for what he was about to face, he stepped into the crack. There was a sensation of falling, matched by alternating intense heat and frigid cold. He felt like he was being turned inside out and upside down while also having a weight pressed onto his body from all directions.
With a gasp, Mathew emerged from the crack into an entirely new world.
The sky swirled with iridescent colours that were neither a sunrise nor a sunset. For a moment, it would be the most intense, beautiful blue he had ever seen; then, it would fall into darkness where there were no stars, only to shift to dawn to dye the sky a burning orange and red.
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This otherworldly illumination cast long, distorted shadows across the ground that slithered and writhed as though each possessed a life of its own.
The terrain was a patchwork of ethereal, shifting surfaces that were sometimes solid, liquid or even fading into nothingness, only to shift back. There were vast plains of green grass, trees and fields of wheat or barley. They would suddenly catch fire and leave charred earth behind that would shift into rocky, barren land.
The process would repeat in different ways before the land would give way to a sea-like shimmering, liquid glass that stretched out to the horizon. It perfectly reflected the sky above to the point where Mathew had difficulty distinguishing them. The calm liquid would suddenly boil, and bubbles or parts would rage, creating a storm that threw massive waves against the shore.
Tower spires of translucent crystal rose from the ground; their jagged edges caught the light and cast dazzling, blinding reflections, only for them to darken and shift into buildings. Palaces, mansions, slums, warehouses, and all other structures appeared in a multitude of different styles and architectural designs.
In the distance, mountains of shimmering smoke seem to hover, their peaks disappearing into a swirling, ever-shifting cloud before changing solid. They seemed at times to take on human-like features, like giants overlooking the dreamscape.
The air was neither cold nor warm, but both at the same time while retaining neither of the properties. It was by far the strangest, most alien place Mathew had ever been in his lifetime. It was as if he had entered a dream where the rules of reality were both absent and reinforced to an extreme degree.
A weight pressed down on his, an intense gravity many times the norm, while at the same time, he felt weightless and ‘floaty.’
The only thing Mathew could do was ignore the peculiarities of this place and carry on with his goal of finding The Dreamer.
“I just don’t know how I’m going to do that.” Mathew muttered softly.
There was no sense of stability here for him to pick a direction and walk in. He could try, but if this was an entirely new realm, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be walking the wrong way for an eternity.
Just when he was losing hope, Mathew spotted something nearby. It was a small black and white cat. It was sat on a stump from a tree, watching him with its large, yellow eyes that reflected the light of the strange sky above.
Curious about it, as it was the only living thing he had seen, Mathew approached it. The cat tilted its head at him before jumping off the stump and running across the grassy field next to it. Oddly, the landscape seemed to stabilize around it as if it were forcing the dreamscape to maintain its form.
The cat stopped and turned around to look at Mathew before it bounded away once again.
“I get it; follow the cat.” Mathew muttered.
The creature led him across the Luminous Realm. They walked through fields and forests, abandoned villages and ruined cities for hours before Mathew walked through an area of complete darkness. The cat seemed unperturbed by the oddity, and its presence reassured Mathew.
Soon, the darkness cleared, and Mathew arrived at the edge of a cliff. Very few things were growing along the edge, only some sparse tufts of grass stubbornly clinging to life. A cold wind blew from the expanse beyond the cliff, an ocean of grey water that stretched as far as the eye could see.
The sky above was cloudy and dark, and the sea was violent. Waves crashed against the cliffside, sending a white spray into the air and causing a tumultuous roar of noise.
There was an old man standing at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sea. He was as ancient as the oak Mathew had seen in the village square, his skin tanned and wrinkled. The man had a long, white beard and was wearing black robes.
The cat swiftly approached the old man, who let the creature leap into his arms without looking at it. He began to pet the animal absent-mindedly as he continued to look out at the sea.
“Why have you come here?” The old man asked, his voice hoarse and aged.
“I’m looking for The Dreamer in order to recruit them as an apostle for the god of Perennial Reveries.” Mathew said, knowing that this was the man he had been sent to find.
The Dreamer didn’t react to his words. Instead, he continued to pet the cat and stare across the ocean.
“Or at least wake them up. This dream is affecting the reality of the world.” Mathew finished. He slowly walked forward to join the old man at the edge of the cliff. The ground was far below them, filled with jagged rocks and a rough beach.
Oddly, Mathew couldn’t smell the sea at all despite being so close to it.
After a minute of silence, the old man stopped petting the cat and raised it in his arms. To Mathew’s shock, the old man tossed the cat gently off the side of the cliff! The animal fell a few feet before the wind caught its small body, and it began to fly.
Mathew watched until the animal flew into the dark, grey clouds above them. Once it was out of sight, the old man responded.
“You have entered the Tower; what Floor are you on?” The old man asked.
“This is the 30th.” Mathew replied.
“How many years did it take you to climb so far?” The old man inquired, and Mathew had to think about his answer for a moment.
“I’m not sure. It’s hard to keep track of. Decades at least…maybe a century? Perhaps longer.” Mathew finished softly, shaking his head. The old man nodded in response.
“So young.” The old man commented. “Do you have a goal to sustain you, a purpose that carries you forward?”
“Yes.” Mathew responded, but he was unwilling to explain to the old man.
“I had a purpose, once. I entered the Tower as a young man and grew even younger as I became stronger. It seems such a silly thing now, my reason for entering. I was naïve and hopeful, but the Tower is a grindstone and its Floors are designed to scrape away your morality, your sense of self…your humanity.”
“It desires to shape you into something you never wanted to be, never imagined you could be.” The old man paused for a moment, and Mathew could see the despair overcome him. His shoulders sagged, and he looked as if he were about to collapse.
“Only in this place, my dreams, can I be who I am. Who I should have been. I’m an old man, ground to dust but unable to rest. Unable to die.” The Dreamer explained, and his image changed for a moment in Mathew’s eyes.
The old man was replaced by a youth similar in age to Mathew himself. He wore the same black robes, but these had gold embroidery and emanated a magical power, unlike anything Mathew had ever seen. There was a strength to the youth that spoke of unimaginably high levels and Blessings he could never comprehend.
This wasn’t an Apostle or someone on a similar Floor as Mathew. This was a Demigod on the verge of Ascension. Compared to Arthur, the only person Mathew had ever seen on a higher Floor than himself, The Dreamer’s power was as bright as the sun where Arthur was a streetlight at night.
‘That would make me a less than a candle.’ Mathew thought as he took a step back from The Dreamer. The image shifted in a second as the man controlled his emotions once again. The youth was gone, and the old man was in his place.
“The gods are liars, Mathew.” The old man stated. Mathew’s eyes opened wide in shock.
“How did you know my name?” Mathew inquired. He was sure he hadn’t said it, and there should be no way for the old man to have discovered it in the short time together.
“You’re a part of my dream, Mathew. You have been since you entered into this realm. ” The old man replied, his hand gesturing to encompass everything around them.
“The gods are liars.” The old man repeated, and this time, he looked away from the ocean. Mathew saw that his eyes were gray, the same shade as the water far below them.
“They use us for their own purposes and throw us away when they are finished. Perennial Reveries, Righteous Subjugation, and even your own Unyielding Declaration are no different from the rest. How can they care about our well-being, desires, or dreams when we are so far beneath them.”
“Would you care about the needs of the ants making their tunnels beneath the soil as you walk through a forest?” The Dreamer asked.
“What about their promise of a wish?” Mathew responded, and the old man shook his head sadly.
“Perhaps they will grant your desire. They are quite capable of it. But the question you should be asking is, ‘Has anyone ever reached the top of the Tower to receive it?’” The old man questioned. He turned to look back at the sea.
“I have certainly never spoken to anyone who has. We are enslaved, bound to the will of the gods. We are at the whims of beings of incredible power, and our only choice is to submit. At least, that was what I believed.” The old man explained.
“And now?” Mathew prodded. He was curious about this strange Dreamer who had so much power but seemed to be in the exact same situation as himself.
“There are other options. Other choices are available to us. To submit. To Refuse and perish. Or, resist and ascend.” The old man said. He turned his head away from the sea and looked at Mathew a final time.
“The choice always belongs with you, Mathew. I have learned that a dream can become a reality if the Dreamer possesses the will to make it so.” The old man nodded and, to Mathew’s shock, stepped off the edge of the cliff.
Mathew was never sure what happened next, if it was real or just a dream. The Dreamer stepped off the cliff and, like the cat had, began to fly through the air. The world around him trembled and turned to black.
The dream shattered, and Mathew was engulfed in white light.