"Good," Petania said from somewhere behind the shimmering veil of light. "Now, you'll start to feel a pull—like you're being drawn in. Don't fight it. Just let it happen."

Her calm, clinical tone barely reached me through the rising vibration in the air.

And then, just as she warned, I felt it—

a strange sensation tugging at my chest, as if invisible hands were pulling me into a current.

My surroundings wavered, edges softening, colors bleeding into one another.

It was like being caught between waking and dreaming—half-asleep, half-aware.

The hum of the circle deepened, and the machinery around me roared to life. Whirring gears, hissing mana conduits, and the faint static of magic fusing with technology all blended into a single, rhythmic pulse.

My eyelids grew heavy.

The world tilted.

And in the next instant, everything went white.

The light swallowed the laboratory, the sounds of Petania's voice fading into a distant echo—

—and I felt myself drifting, weightless, sinking deeper and deeper into the unknown.

Into someone else's dream.

[A/N: Read with caution. Danger is ahead. You can skip this chapter]

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A wave of dizziness washed over me, and when it finally faded, I opened my eyes to find myself standing in the middle of a forest.

The air was crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of leaves and moss. Above, the sky stretched wide and pale, framed by towering trees that swayed gently in the wind. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy, scattering flecks of light across the forest floor.

For a while, I just stood there, blinking in quiet disbelief.

This… was it?

I had half-expected to wake up in a nightmare—something grotesque or absurd, the kind of dream where logic twisted itself into madness. But instead, all I found was stillness.

A peaceful, almost ordinary forest.

"...So this is a dream," I murmured, glancing down at my hands before looking around again.

Despite knowing none of this was real, a faint smile tugged at my lips. The soft rustling of leaves, the smell of damp soil—it all felt so vivid.

It had been a long time since I'd felt something like this. The simple tranquility of nature, untouched by noise or danger. Even if it was just an illusion, I could feel the tension in my chest slowly ease.

'Alright. Focus.'

According to Petania, I needed to find five dream fragments—each hidden within a different person's dream.

That meant this forest belonged to someone. Whoever's subconscious this was, it looked surprisingly calm.

If the rest of the dreams were anything like this, I'd count myself lucky. I could do without running from monsters or watching the sky turn upside down.

Still… I needed to find the fragment.

I glanced around once more. Enormous trees stood densely packed, their trunks thick and weathered with age. Sunlight barely reached the moss-covered ground. Every direction looked the same—green, endless, and silent.

A narrow path wound through the forest, weaving between the trees like a thread guiding me forward.

It stretched on endlessly, as if beckoning—follow me.

When you have no clue where to go, sometimes the simplest choice is to just keep walking.

So, I did.

The soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots was the only sound in the quiet, endless green.

"Where is the owner of this dream?" I murmured, glancing around.

No matter how far I went, there was no one. Not a whisper of a person's presence.

That was strange.

Every dream has an owner, a consciousness shaping it. Yet here, in this vast forest, it felt completely empty—just endless trees, sunlight filtering through the branches, and silence heavy enough to press against my ears.

Eventually, after what felt like a long walk, the forest opened up.

And my breath caught.

Before me was an enormous lake, so clear and still it looked like a mirror reflecting the endless blue sky.

The sunlight shimmered on the surface, scattering fragments of light across the water. The air smelled fresh, almost unreal.

It was beautiful—so much so that for a moment, I forgot I was inside someone's dream.

The forest embraced the lake in a wide, tranquil curve, its reflection painting perfect symmetry across the water.

'What kind of person dreams like this?'

The scenery was too vivid, too breathtaking to belong to an ordinary imagination.

Professor Petania once told me that dreams reveal fragments of one's mind—especially the strength of one's imagination.

If that's true, then whoever created this dream isn't just imaginative. They're exceptional.

As I stood there, lost in thought, a sharp sound pierced the still air.

"Kyaaaah!"

A scream.

I snapped my head toward it and started running without a second thought.

Through the trees, I saw a faint light flickering in the distance.

As I got closer, the scene came into view—and my steps faltered.

A woman was there, struggling, surrounded by writhing, shadowy tentacles that pulsed with an unnatural energy. The ground around her glowed faintly, the light fighting against the encroaching darkness.

She twisted and fought to free herself, her expression a mix of fear and pain.

The sight was enough to make anyone's stomach tighten.

But why.

"Why is she smiling...?"

I squinted into the dim, trying to make sense of the scene. At first it looked like a horror flick gone wrong: shadows twisting, wet sounds everywhere, a woman trapped in the center.

Then I saw her face.

She wasn't terrified. She was lit up. Cheeks red, eyes half-lidded, lips trembling around these soft, desperate little noises.

"Mmm... ahh..."

Oh hell no.

Those weren't shadows. They were tentacles. Thick, shiny, sliding over every inch of her like they owned the place.

One coiled tight around her waist, another dragged slow and teasing across her chest, and she pushed into it, gasping louder.

"Nnnh... yes... right there..."

The moan rolled out of her, low and filthy, vibrating in the air like a bass line I didn't sign up to hear. My face burned. This wasn't a nightmare. This was someone's private triple-X theater, and I'd just stumbled onto the front row.

"Ah, shit..."

I dragged a hand down my face. Someone out there had a PhD in creative smut and zero chill about broadcasting it.

A fat tentacle slithered lower, nudging between her thighs like it had a VIP pass. She arched hard, back bowing off whatever passed for a floor in here.

"Oh god...!"

The sound she made was pure porn soundtrack. I looked away right as the tentacle decided to finish with flair.

Pshhhht.

Warm goo splattered across my shoulder.

"Damn it!"

I jerked back, smacking at the spot like it was on fire. The stuff clung like honey mixed with regret. My hand came away stringy and glistening. Great. Dream bukkake. Exactly what I needed tonight.

Behind me the moaning hit a crescendo—wet, rhythmic, shameless.

"Mmmph—yesyesyes—

Each word punched the air, sticky as the mess on my jacket. I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached and stomped forward, boots peeling off the ground with every step.

This is the worst.

I need to get out of here quickly.

Deliberately ignoring the obscene sounds coming from behind, I placed my hand on the dream fragment visible before me.

Soon, the world was enveloped in white light.

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