The stifling summer night pulsed with the incessant chirping of cicadas. David jolted awake, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He gasped, body slick with cold sweat, the chill seeping deeper than the humid air should allow.
"That dream again..."
He muttered the words into the darkness, wiping his clammy forehead. Despite the sweltering heat and the insistent chorus of insects outside, the bone-chilling cold of the nightmare clung to him, a ghostly residue of something more profound than a dream.
It always began the same: an endless expanse of darkness, silent, suffocating, filled with an all-encompassing cold. He was trapped in a colossal ice cellar, limbs stiff, breath shallow and strained. Each time, he struggled to open his eyes, eyelids heavy as if laden with lead.
Just as the infinite darkness threatened to swallow him whole, a faint light flickered in the distance. It grew, intensified, until it coalesced into a massive door standing before him.
The door towered impossibly high, its material both wooden and bronze, the surface intricately carved with ancient patterns radiating an aura of mystery and power. Though everything in the dream felt unreal, David could sense the door's weight, its icy cold, as if a single touch would freeze his very soul.
He was drawn towards it, fear a living thing coiling in his gut with each step. He had no idea what lay beyond, but a powerful premonition gripped him: a profound secret hid behind that door, a truth that could shatter his understanding of the world.
As he reached the door, it groaned open, a grating, teeth-jarring sound, like an ancient beast awakened from millennia of slumber. Taking a deep breath, David stepped across the threshold.
Instead of the infernal abyss or celestial paradise he imagined, a vibrant, idyllic landscape unfolded before him. Lush green meadows bloomed with colorful flowers, butterflies danced on the breeze, and in the distance, a herd of deer frolicked through the forest. Everything seemed peaceful, serene, beautiful.
But as David's tense muscles began to relax, ready to embrace the tranquility, a jarring detail pierced through the idyllic facade: everything in the dream was pixelated.
The swaying grass, the leaping deer, even the delicate wings of the butterflies – all were composed of individual black pixels, moving mechanically, forming shapes and patterns.
This jarring dissonance filled David with a profound sense of unease and dread. The scene before him, though vibrant and alive, felt like a poorly rendered video game, artificial and false.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to tremble violently. The black pixels flickered erratically, as if the entire world were on the verge of collapse.
Terror gripped him. He tried to run, to escape, but found himself rooted to the spot, forced to watch as the darkness consumed everything.
"No!"
He woke with a gasp, the bone-chilling cold of the dream clinging to him, the image of the pixelated world seared into his mind.
"What does it mean?" he whispered to the darkness, his heart heavy with confusion and a growing sense of dread. This was more than just a dream. It was a message, a premonition, but one he couldn't yet decipher.
He had a powerful feeling that this dream was a turning point in his life, one that would lead him down a path unknown. The dream had plagued him for weeks now, growing more vivid with each passing night. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was trying to tell him something, to warn him of something.
Determined to understand the meaning behind the recurring nightmare, David delved into a frenzy of research. He devoured books on psychology, philosophy, religion, mythology, even venturing into the realms of folklore and urban legends.
His search, however, proved fruitless. None of the theories on dream interpretation seemed to apply to the unsettling realism of his own experience. The explanations felt forced, inadequate to explain the specific, chilling details of his dream.
"Could it really just be my subconscious?" he wondered, doubt creeping into his mind.
Just as he was about to give up, he stumbled upon a research paper about prehistoric civilizations. The author, a historian named Professor Li, proposed a radical hypothesis: human civilization was not a linear progression from primitive societies, as commonly believed. Instead, he argued, Earth had witnessed multiple advanced civilizations in its long history, lost to time, leaving behind only fragmented ruins and indecipherable mysteries.
Professor Li's paper ignited a spark of hope in David. He began to research the maverick historian, discovering that Professor Li had dedicated his life to studying prehistoric civilizations. His research had taken him across the globe, from the pyramids of Egypt to the Mayan ruins of South America, from the enigmatic Easter Island statues to the mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle.
David felt an urgent need to speak with Professor Li, to discuss his theories and share his own unsettling dream. He had a growing suspicion that the professor's research might hold the key to unlocking the secrets of his nightmare.
However, when he finally managed to track down Professor Li's contact information, he was met with devastating news: the professor had tragically died in an accident a year prior.
"How could this be?" David was stunned, a chilling premonition gripping his heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that Professor Li's death was no accident, that it was somehow connected to his research on prehistoric civilizations.
Determined to uncover the truth, David decided to visit the Xinghai City Museum, where Professor Li had worked, hoping to find clues within the professor's research materials.
The Xinghai City Museum, with its vast collection of artifacts and historical documents, housed a treasure trove of information, including Professor Li's extensive research on prehistoric civilizations.
At the museum, David met with Dr. Zhang, a young archaeologist and former student of Professor Li. Dr. Zhang, still grieving the loss of his mentor, shared David's belief that the professor's death was no accident. He revealed that Professor Li had been deeply engrossed in studying a mysterious artifact: a stone tablet inscribed with strange symbols, said to have been salvaged from the seabed near the Bermuda Triangle.
"Professor Li believed the tablet to be a relic from a prehistoric civilization," Dr. Zhang explained, "containing vital information about their history and knowledge. He had been trying to decipher the symbols on the tablet for years, but with little success, until..."
Dr. Zhang's voice trailed off, a flicker of fear crossing his face.
"Until what?" David pressed, sensing the younger man's hesitation.
"Until a few days before his death," Dr. Zhang continued, his voice hushed, as if afraid of being overheard. "He told me he had finally managed to translate a portion of the text, and that he had made a startling discovery. He said that our world is not alone, that there are other parallel worlds existing alongside ours, and that these prehistoric civilizations… they might have come from these other worlds."
"Parallel worlds?" David felt a surge of adrenaline, the phrase echoing the imagery of the massive door in his dream. Could it be that the door led to one of these parallel worlds, the world Professor Li had dedicated his life to uncovering?
"Yes, parallel worlds," Dr. Zhang affirmed. "Professor Li believed that these prehistoric civilizations possessed the knowledge and technology to travel between worlds. They somehow found a way to cross over to our world, where they flourished, but eventually, for reasons unknown, they left… or vanished."
"Where is the tablet now?" David asked, his voice tight with anticipation.
"It was kept in the museum's vault, but..." Dr. Zhang hesitated, his expression shifting, "shortly after Professor Li's death, it disappeared."
"Disappeared?" David echoed, incredulous. "How could it just disappear? The museum's security system must be incredibly tight."
Dr. Zhang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It is. We have state-of-the-art security, with guards on duty around the clock. But on the night the tablet vanished, there was no sign of forced entry, no alarms triggered. It's as if… as if it simply vanished into thin air."
"This is too strange..." David frowned, the knot of unease in his stomach tightening. "Could it be an inside job?"
"The police investigated that possibility, but none of the museum staff were considered suspects." Dr. Zhang shook his head, his face etched with frustration. "The whole incident remains a complete mystery."
The missing tablet only deepened the mystery surrounding Professor Li's death and fueled the fire of David's premonition. He couldn't shake the feeling that the tablet's disappearance was connected to his dream, to the pixelated world that haunted his nights.
"Dr. Zhang," David asked, his mind racing, "do you remember where Professor Li said the tablet was found?"
"He mentioned it was salvaged from the seabed near the Bermuda Triangle," Dr. Zhang replied, his brow furrowing in thought. "But he never went into specifics, never told me exactly where or how it was found."
The Bermuda Triangle… A shiver ran down David's spine, the name sending a jolt of primal fear through him.
"David, are you alright?" Dr. Zhang asked, noticing the pallor that had crept over David's face.
"I'm fine," David replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Just remembered something. Dr. Zhang, could you show me where the tablet was kept?"
"Of course." Dr. Zhang nodded, leading David through the labyrinthine corridors of the museum towards the vault.
Located deep within the museum's basement, the vault was a fortress of reinforced concrete, accessible only through a single, heavy steel door. Multiple electronic locks and surveillance cameras guarded the entrance, ensuring the safety of the priceless artifacts within.
Dr. Zhang entered the security code, and the heavy vault door swung open with a low groan.
As David stepped inside, a wave of cold air washed over him, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. The vault was empty except for a single, empty display case standing silently in the center of the room.
David approached the display case, his gaze sweeping over its surface. The case was lined with soft velvet, and upon it lay a rectangular indentation, the ghostly outline of the missing tablet.
He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the outline, and suddenly, a vivid image flashed through his mind:
A cold, empty room, a stone pedestal in the center, and upon it, a black tablet, its surface covered in strange, intricate symbols…
"Wait!" David exclaimed, his heart pounding in his chest. "This room… this tablet… I've seen it before!"
A powerful sense of déjà vu washed over him, as if he had lived this moment before, but the details – the time, the place, the context – remained frustratingly elusive.
"Dr. Zhang, do you have a picture of the tablet?" David asked, his voice urgent.
"Yes, of course." Dr. Zhang pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, finally stopping on one in particular. "Professor Li took this a while back."
David took the phone, his eyes immediately drawn to the image of the missing tablet.
As his gaze fell upon the symbols etched into its surface, his heart lurched, a wave of icy dread washing over him, stealing his breath.
He knew those symbols.
No, not knew, but…
"I've seen these!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling. "I saw them in my dream!"
"In your dream?" Dr. Zhang looked up sharply, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "You're certain you saw these symbols in your dream?"
David nodded emphatically, his voice firm. "Absolutely. I dreamt of this strange place, where everything was pixelated – the sky, the trees, the buildings… even the people seemed to be made of blocks."
He paused, drawing a deep breath to steady himself, and continued, "It was a gray world, the sky like the static on an old television screen. The buildings were huge, blocky structures, devoid of color, just shades of black, white, and gray. I remember a towering mountain in the center of this pixelated world, and at its peak, there it was… the black tablet."
His voice wavered slightly as he spoke, the memory of the dream so vivid, so unsettling, that even now, the feeling of oppressive unreality clung to him.
Dr. Zhang remained silent, listening intently, his pen scratching furiously across his notepad.
"Can you describe the tablet?" he asked after a moment. "Was it exactly like the one in the photo?"
"Identical," David confirmed. "It was black, smooth, and cold to the touch, with the same strange symbols carved into its surface. I even remember touching them…"
He recalled the sensation of his fingers brushing against the cold stone, the feeling of its smooth surface, and yet… there was also a strange warmth?
"Warmth?" Dr. Zhang seized on the word, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure? How could a cold stone tablet feel warm?"
David hesitated, unable to explain the conflicting sensations. "I… I don't know, but that's what I felt. It was a strange kind of warmth, as if there was some kind of energy emanating from the tablet, flowing through those symbols…"
Dr. Zhang fell silent, his gaze fixed on the photo of the tablet on his phone. The tablet in the picture looked cold, inert, lifeless – there was nothing remotely "warm" about it.
Could it be David's imagination? Or was there something more to the tablet, something hidden, something unknown?
"David," Dr. Zhang finally spoke, looking up at him with an intense gaze. "Tell me everything about your dream. Every detail. Perhaps it holds the key to solving this mystery."
David nodded, and began to recount his dream in detail. He described the massive door, the pixelated world, the black tablet with its strange symbols, and the inexplicable feeling of warmth it emanated.
Dr. Zhang listened intently, nodding occasionally, asking clarifying questions, trying to piece together the fragments of David's dream into something tangible, something meaningful.
"Parallel worlds, prehistoric civilizations, a missing tablet, strange symbols… and a man who dreams of the future…" Dr. Zhang murmured, more to himself than to David, as if trying to make sense of the information swirling around him.
He looked up at David, his eyes filled with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.
"David," he said, his voice serious, "are you willing to work with me? To help me uncover the truth behind all of this?"
For Dr. Zhang, partnering with a man who claimed his dreams held the key to unlocking the secrets of a prehistoric civilization was a gamble, to say the least. Yet, years of assisting Professor Li's research, coupled with the recent, inexplicable disappearance of the tablet, made him cautiously receptive to the possibility that David's dreams held some significance.
"First," Dr. Zhang stated, his voice regaining its usual academic tone, "we need to find more information about the tablet. Professor Li's notes might hold some clues."
The two men returned to Dr. Zhang's office and began sifting through the late professor's research materials. Professor Li's meticulous notes documented his extensive research on prehistoric civilizations, encompassing ancient myths, legends, archeological findings, and modern scientific theories.
David meticulously compared the details of his dream with the information in the notes, searching for any connection, any overlap.
"Wait, look at this!" David exclaimed, pointing to a particular passage.
Dr. Zhang leaned closer, his eyes scanning the handwritten text. The passage read:
"According to Mayan prophecy, on a day yet to come, the 'gods' will return to Earth through the 'Celestial Stairway,' bringing both destruction and rebirth..."
"Celestial Stairway?" Dr. Zhang frowned. "What could that mean?"
"Could it be… the massive door from my dream?" David suggested, his mind racing. "A door connecting two different worlds… perhaps that's the 'Celestial Stairway' the prophecy speaks of."
Dr. Zhang pondered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It's possible. The Maya were known for their accurate calendar and intricate prophecies, often hinting at profound cosmic events. If your dream is somehow connected to their prophecy, then this 'Celestial Stairway' could very well be a bridge between our world and another."
"Another world…" David murmured, the image of the pixelated landscape flashing through his mind. "Could that be the origin of the prehistoric civilization?"
"It's too early to say." Dr. Zhang cautioned. "We need more evidence."
They continued to pore over Professor Li's notes, their determination growing with each passing hour. Finally, tucked away in the back pages of an unremarkable notebook, they stumbled upon a new lead – a hand-drawn map.
The map was simple, but it clearly marked a specific location with a small 'x'. Next to it, scrawled in hurried handwriting, were a few words:
"Entrance to the 'Realm of Gods'..."
"The 'Realm of Gods'…" David whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. "Could this be the answer Professor Li was searching for?"
Dr. Zhang's expression turned serious as he studied the crude map. The location marked on the map was all too familiar to him – the Bermuda Triangle.
"Bermuda…" Dr. Zhang breathed, a tremor in his voice. "Could it be that Professor Li went there after all?"
David's blood ran cold. He recalled Dr. Zhang mentioning that the tablet was discovered near the Bermuda Triangle. What if Professor Li, driven by his research, had uncovered a secret so compelling that he decided to venture to that enigmatic and perilous region himself?
"When did Professor Li draw this map?" David asked, his voice tight with urgency.
"I'm not sure about the exact date," Dr. Zhang admitted, "but this notebook dates back to a month before his disappearance. Which means he drew this map very close to the time he vanished."
A month before his disappearance… David pieced together the timeline in his head. It was becoming increasingly clear that Professor Li's disappearance was no accident. He had obviously discovered something significant, something that had led him to the Bermuda Triangle, and perhaps to his doom.
"We have to go to Bermuda," David said, his voice firm, his resolve solidifying with each passing moment. "Professor Li might have left clues there, something that could help us understand what happened to him, and what this is all about."
Dr. Zhang hesitated, his scientific mind rebelling against the irrationality of it all. The Bermuda Triangle was a place of myth and legend, of unexplained disappearances and maritime disasters. To venture there, based solely on a dream and a handful of cryptic clues, seemed reckless, foolhardy even.
But as he looked at David, saw the determination in his eyes, the unwavering belief that the answers lay in that mysterious expanse of ocean, he felt a surge of his own. For years, he had dedicated himself to unraveling the mysteries of the past alongside Professor Li. Could he turn his back on this, on the possibility of uncovering a truth so profound it could rewrite history?
"You're right," Dr. Zhang said, his voice echoing with newfound determination. "We need to see this through. For Professor Li, and for the truth."
The decision made, a new energy pulsed between them. The journey ahead would be fraught with uncertainty and danger, but they were determined to face it head-on, driven by the belief that somewhere in the vast expanse of the Bermuda Triangle, the answers to their questions awaited.