The devastation inside Slough House spoke volumes about the violence that had occurred. Splintered furniture, scorched walls, and iron fragments embedded in wood. Rosaline was coordinating with the medical retrieval team while Captain Ottis supervised Donnie's unconscious form.

  Ulrich's thoughts shifted to Adeline.

  She'd fled to the safehouse across the street as instructed, but that had been nearly twenty minutes ago. She would be terrified, confused, and unable to comprehend what she'd witnessed before running away.

  Ulrich believed she deserved some answers, even if those answers were incomplete and concealed behind another layer of secrecy.

  He left through the broken doorway, navigating Portsmouth's fog-shrouded streets toward the safehouse location. The building was a converted warehouse two blocks from Slough House, a property the Black Hand Gang maintained for emergencies.

  He found Adeline inside, sitting on a crate near the back wall with the bunny plushie clutched in her arms, strangely enough. Her face paled, her eyes red from crying, and when she saw Ulrich approaching, relief flooded her expression.

  Then she saw his solemn face, and the relief transformed into dread.

  "What's wrong?" Her voice came, small and fragile as bloomed lilies. "Is Donnie... is brother alright?"

  Ulrich took a deep breath, choosing his words with careful consideration. "Before I answer, I need to explain something about my work. What I'm about to tell you involves confidentiality that extends beyond normal business operations."

  Adeline nodded slowly, setting the plushie aside.

  "I'm not just a security consultant," Ulrich continued. "I'm a Watchman of the Ministry, an organization that operates beneath the Churches of the Night Mother. The security company is a front for our actual activities, which involve handling supernatural threats that ordinary authorities can't address."

  Her eyes widened fractionally, processing this revelation.

  "What you need to hear from me must remain secret. You can't tell anyone, not even Donnie when he wakes up. Do you understand?"

  "I understand." Her voice grew steadier, the initial shock giving way to the composed mindset that had helped her manage the Shelby family's finances through countless crises.

  Ulrich explained the investigation systematically. The dream scrying using Jeremiah's fabric. The vision of Lewis Smith distributing rituals in Portsmouth. His visit to Slough House seeking information about suspicious activity. And the terrible discovery that Donnie had been possessed, transformed into something between human and wraith.

  "I never imagined he was influenced," Ulrich admitted, his hand moving to rub his forehead in frustration. "Looking back now, it's obvious. Terry Mondie had contact with Donnie during the weaponry crate crisis. The possession probably started then, through that mutual connection. I was too weak and ignorant to notice anything abnormal."

  Adeline's expression shifted through several emotions. Fear, anger, grief, acceptance. Finally, she spoke. "Will he recover?"

  "Yes. The wraith has been killed completely, removed from his spiritual body. But Donnie will wake up with damage. Possible amnesia, symptoms of split personality. These can be treated with professional care from Ministry specialists, but recovery will take time."

  Silence stretched between them, though neither found it awkward or uncomfortable.

  "I'm sorry," Ulrich said quietly. "For bringing this into your lives. And not being strong enough to prevent it."

  Adeline shook her head, her brown hair falling across her face. "Don't apologize for circumstances beyond your control. We're all adults with our own dealings and complications." She paused, then added more softly, "Your untrusting attitude hurt a little, I'll admit. If only you'd told us earlier about your real work. But looking at Donnie's possession now, perhaps secrecy was better. Who knows what consequences there would have been if he'd known you were a Watchman before this?"

  Her observation was astute, cutting through the guilt to identify the crux of the matter. If Donnie had known about Ulrich's Ministry affiliation while possessed, the entity controlling him would have known as well. The tactical advantage would have been catastrophic.

  "Thank you," Ulrich said. "For understanding."

  "Take care of my brother," Adeline replied. "That's all I ask."

  They concluded the conversation with mutual acknowledgment of what happened.

  Adeline would return to managing the Black Hand Gang's operations while Donnie received treatment. The Ministry would provide whatever resources were necessary for his recovery. And the investigation into the Twilight Order and One Eye Covenant would continue with renewed urgency, though that part wasn't fore Adeline to know.

  The carriage back to Belham departed at dawn, carrying Ulrich through fog that seemed thicker than usual. He spent the journey reviewing everything that had occurred, organizing all the facts into a coherent narrative for his report.

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  Captain Ottis listened without interruption as Ulrich presented the complete sequence of events in his office. The dream scrying attempt. Lewis Smith's strange awareness during his divination. The visit to Slough House and the discovery of Donnie's possession. The desperate fight and eventual assistance from Rosaline and the Captain himself.

  "I have some conjectures that require further verification," Ulrich concluded. "Terry Mondie likely facilitated the initial possession, working in coordination with Lewis Smith. Both are high-ranking Twilight Order members, and their activities in Portsmouth suggest deliberate cultivation of supernatural incidents in areas with strategic significance, intending to spread misery, like some kind of plague. "

  Captain Ottis nodded, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm against his desk. "Your theory aligns with the intelligence we've gathered independently. The pattern of possession cases has been increasing across Belham and the surrounding territories. We suspected some coordination, but couldn't prove it."

  "The dream scrying provides a direct link."

  "It also exposes you to significant risk." Ottis fixed Ulrich with a hard stare. "Lewis Smith seeing you during the scrying shouldn't be possible. Either he possesses artifacts that detect dream walkers, or he has bizarre abilities belonging to the Rune of Dream, among Rank 3, or even 4. Either option means he's aware of your investigation and will likely take action. At worst, trap you within a dream."

  "I understand the risk."

  "I hope you do." The Captain stubbed out his cigarette and immediately lit another. "Good work regardless. Get some rest. We'll need you sharp for what's coming."

  Ulrich left the Sanctuary as morning light struggled to penetrate Belham's perpetual fog. His terraced house appeared exactly as he'd left it, undisturbed and ordinary. He locked the door, drew the curtains, and checked his pocket watch.

  6:47 AM. Hours until the recurring dream would end at 12:42 PM.

  He used the time to prepare, setting up basic spiritual protection barriers around his living space. Especially, the bunny plushie received his special attention, placed carefully in the upstairs room where it couldn't observe his activities directly. Whatever entity possessed it had shown goodwill, but Ulrich preferred privacy for this particular experiment. And also because he wanted to test if that could detect the presence of the white space, or his dream walking state.

  When all was done, Ulrich settled into a comfortable position and began the process.

  The bronze hairpin totem formed from his astral body, anchoring him to the real world. Then he released his hold on the waking consciousness, inducing that familiar sensation of endlessly falling.

  The White Space manifested around him immediately.

  But this time, Ulrich focused his intent more deliberately. Instead of simply floating in a white void, he willed the space to transform into its mutated form. The infinite 3D cube domain that had appeared during his possessed state.

  Reality responded to his will with smooth efficiency.

  The cube materialized around him, six walls of infinite whiteness creating a defined boundary within boundless nothingness. And below, visible through the transparent floor, the Dream Sea churned with its usual chaos. Bubbles rose constantly, each containing captured dreams and memories from countless sleepers.

  Ulrich descended carefully, guiding the cube toward the ocean's surface while maintaining an altitude that prevented direct contact. His enhanced perception noted details obsessively.

  Lesser dream creatures swam through the depths, their shadows visible beneath churning waves. Some resembled the shark-bird hybrid he'd fought previously. Others carried stranger anatomies, nightmare combinations that defied human comprehension. It was a wonder how they could even breathe, swim, or be .

  But none reacted to his presence.

  The White Cube seemed to render him completely invisible to the Dream Sea's inhabitants. No creatures looked up toward his position. No hostile entities launched themselves at the cube. He drifted above the ocean like a ghost, observing without being observed.

  The discovery elevated his mood considerably.

  If he could navigate the Dream Sea without attracting hostile attention, dream scrying could become exponentially safer. No more dodging bubbles while fleeing from predators. No more calculating risk versus reward for every investigation. Just a smooth observation from within this protected space.

  Ulrich tested the theory further, descending until the cube touched a rising bubble. The scene within projected itself across all six walls immediately, displaying a mundane memory of someone eating breakfast from multiple angles simultaneously.

  Perfect clarity with no danger. It was like watching it through a projector, and whatever existed beyond the bubble could not escape the confines of the white walls.

  He withdrew from that bubble and descended deeper, sampling others at random. Market transactions, family conversations, solitary work in quiet rooms. Each memory displayed with complete fidelity, accessible without any of the risks associated with normal dream scrying.

  Then Ulrich's thoughts turned to his recurring dream.

  Every night at 00:42, he entered the Donghai City vision set six hundred years in the future. That experience existed within the Dream Sea somewhere, a specific bubble or perhaps an entirely separate domain. He'd seen the White Space manifest briefly within that dream during one of his past tests.

  If the White Space could appear inside the dream, perhaps the reverse was possible. Perhaps he could access the Donghai vision from within the White Cube while navigating the Dream Sea.

  The theory aligned with principles he'd encountered before. "Cause and Effect", the relationship between actions and consequences that seemed to govern how supernatural phenomena interacted.

  The Hermetic Principle of Correspondence stated "As Above, So Below," suggesting some symmetry existing between different planes of existence.

  If the White Space could influence his dream, then his dream could potentially be accessed through the White Space. It made sense, a completely reciprocal relationship, mutual interaction: Cause and Effect.

  Ulrich decided to test it.

  He positioned the White Cube at a comfortable altitude above the Dream Sea and allowed himself to relax completely. Not forcing his consciousness into a waking state, but rather letting his astral awareness drift toward sleep while still maintaining the cube's integrity.

  The sensation was strange, like falling asleep while simultaneously remaining aware of his environment. His thoughts grew sluggish, heavy with approaching unconsciousness. But the White Cube persisted around him, stable and solid.

  Ulrich's eyes closed.

  And in the infinite whiteness of his protected domain, floating above an ocean of collective dreams, he let claim him.

  His last conscious thought was curiosity about what would happen when someone dreamed while already inside the Dream Sea.

  Then his awareness faded entirely, and Ulrich Constantine descended into sleep, a sleep within a sleep.