And so I did what it wanted me to do — I gave in.

  Not that I had any choice in the matter.

  Once night fell, I was ready to experiment. It wasn’t as if living or dying meant anything anymore. It was just another task—another item added to the list of things I had to do.

  I took the pill to sleep. Otherwise, it would evade me like always.

  The pill went down easier than expected. Half an hour later, I couldn’t tell if I felt lighter—or just detached.

  The instructions from the manual repeated in my head like a prayer:

  Breathe. Forget weight. Don’t turn back.

  So I didn’t.

  The moment I closed my eyes, the world folded.

  I was standing in a park.

  Sunlight spilled through trees too symmetrical to be real.

  Children laughed in loops—one of them fell, got up, fell again.

  The same motion. The same sound.

  It was almost peaceful—until I saw the well.

  Something about it pulled at me, a gravity my body didn’t resist.

  When I looked in, I didn’t see my reflection.

  I saw a forest.

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  Before I could think, the scene snapped.

  Now I was running.

  Branches tore at my arms, but I didn’t feel pain.

  Footsteps echoed behind me—heavy, steady, patient.

  The forest stretched forever, every turn identical to the last.

  Then, like a heartbeat between blinks, it changed again.

  A monastery.

  White walls. Bells humming softly in the air.

  Dozens of people knelt in rows, their faces bowed—

  but every single one felt familiar.

  My chest tightened. I knew them.

  I just couldn’t place from where.

  I walked past the rows until the last one looked up.

  It was me.

  Not the dreaming me—the other me.

  Standing. Calm. Eyes open. Watching.

  And the moment our gazes met, the air broke like glass.

  I woke with the echo of my own breathing—slow and wrong.

  The world outside my window hadn’t moved at all.

  Then the phone chimed.

  You need to let the dream guide you, Amaya.

  Don’t get lost in your own mind.

  You didn’t reach where you were meant to.

  The notification vanished on its own, leaving the screen blank.

  But the hum underneath the glass stayed.

  Somewhere, deep within the Night Lattice, a silent alert rippled through :

  [Night Lattice System Log]

  Abyss Protocol: Active

  New Participant: Amaya

  Dream Link: Incomplete

  Observation: Subject perceived self within dream layer.

  Status: Pending Evaluation

  The log ended.

  Then, almost imperceptibly, a new line appeared—

  Monitor closely.