The world rippled and twisted around us, as though reality itself had become a reflection in a broken mirror. Colors bled into one another, and the horizon stretched and folded like a piece of fabric caught in a whirlwind. I could feel the raw energy in the air, pulsing like a heartbeat, deep and overwhelming. This wasn't like any nightmare I'd ever faced. This was something far worse.
Annabeth crouched beside me, eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of the chaotic landscape. Percy wasn't far behind, his sword glowing faintly in the distorted light. "Mykel," she called, her voice taut with tension. "What exactly are we standing in right now?"
I blinked, struggling to focus on the shifting terrain around us. The ground kept changing—from soft grass to jagged stone to a shimmering pool of liquid silver. The Dreamstorm was warping everything. It was more than a storm; it was a rupture in the fabric of both dream and reality.
"This is the Dreamsea," I finally muttered, my voice barely audible over the howling wind. "It's where all dreams originate—where they mix and churn before becoming real in someone's mind. But this…" I looked up at the sky, which flickered between storm clouds, bright stars, and glowing, swirling nebulae. "Something's destabilized it."
Annabeth's brow furrowed. "Destabilized? By what?"
I shook my head. "I don't know yet. But the Dreamsea isn't supposed to act like this. It's supposed to be calm, peaceful. Dreams flow in and out of it, and nightmares are contained. But now…" I gestured to the chaos around us, where entire landscapes rose and fell within moments. "It's like everything is colliding at once."
Percy scanned the horizon, his eyes locking onto a structure in the distance. It was faint, barely visible through the swirling mist, but there was no mistaking it—an enormous temple-like building that seemed to rise and fall with the waves of the storm. "What's that?" he asked.
I squinted through the haze, my heart skipping a beat as recognition hit me. "That's the Temple of Somnos," I said, my voice filled with both awe and dread.
"Who?" Percy asked, tilting his head.
"Somnos," I repeated, "the god of slumber, one of the primordial forces of sleep. He's an ancient figure, older than most gods. His temple is at the heart of the Dreamsea. It's where dreams are born and where lost dreams come to die."
"Great," Percy muttered. "An ancient temple in the middle of a nightmare storm. Totally normal."
I ignored his sarcasm, my mind racing. "The temple shouldn't be here, though. It only appears when something's wrong in the dream realms. This means the disturbance is coming from within the temple."
Annabeth nodded. "Then that's where we need to go."
I wasn't sure I wanted to go anywhere near that temple, but we didn't have much of a choice. The Dreamstorm wasn't just affecting the dreamscape—it was bleeding into the waking world too. If it grew any stronger, it could shatter the boundaries between reality and dream, sending the world spiraling into chaos.
We started moving toward the temple, the terrain shifting unpredictably beneath our feet. As we walked, I could feel the Dreamsea tugging at me, pulling on the edges of my consciousness, trying to drag me deeper into its depths. It wasn't just a storm—it was alive, and it was hungry.
"Stick close," I warned, glancing back at Percy and Annabeth. "The Dreamsea likes to pull people apart. It thrives on confusion and disorientation."
"Sounds like a fun place for a vacation," Percy quipped, but I could tell from his tense posture that he wasn't taking this lightly.
As we pressed forward, the storm seemed to intensify, the wind howling louder, the sky flickering with strange lights and shapes. Shadows moved at the corners of my vision—shifting figures, dream-like phantoms that faded as quickly as they appeared. It was impossible to tell if they were real or just figments of the Dreamsea's influence.
After what felt like hours of struggling through the storm, we finally reached the temple. It loomed before us, ancient and imposing, its stone walls covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and writhe as I looked at them. The massive entrance was guarded by two statues—tall, robed figures with hollow eyes, their hands outstretched as if to welcome us into their domain.
"Anyone else getting a bad feeling about this?" Percy asked, eyeing the statues warily.
"Always," Annabeth muttered, stepping cautiously toward the entrance.
I hesitated. I'd read about the Temple of Somnos in old texts, heard stories passed down from other demigods, but I never thought I'd actually see it. The temple was a place of power, yes—but it was also a place of danger. Not every dream that entered this realm left unscathed.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, feeling the weight of the temple's presence pressing down on me. As we passed between the statues, I could feel the air grow thick with an ancient energy, like the very walls were alive with the memories of countless dreams.
The interior of the temple was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from faintly glowing orbs that floated lazily through the air. The floor was covered in a soft, shimmering mist that swirled around our feet as we walked.
At the center of the temple stood an enormous stone dais, and atop it, an ancient, weathered throne. Sitting in that throne, motionless, was a figure shrouded in darkness. I could barely make out its features, but I knew without a doubt who it was.
"Somnos," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The god of slumber didn't move, didn't react to our presence. He seemed… asleep. But the air around him thrummed with power, and I could sense the raw energy radiating from him, feeding the Dreamstorm outside.
Annabeth stepped forward cautiously. "Is he causing this?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But if he is, we have to wake him up."
Percy frowned. "And if he doesn't want to be woken up?"
"Then we're in even bigger trouble than I thought."
I reached out, my hand trembling as it hovered just above Somnos's form. The closer I got, the heavier the air became, pressing down on me like a weight. My thoughts grew fuzzy, my eyelids heavy.
Just as my hand brushed against Somnos, the god's eyes snapped open, glowing with a strange, otherworldly light.
"Who dares disturb my slumber?" his voice rumbled, low and filled with an ancient power that sent shivers down my spine.
I took a step back, my heart racing. "We didn't mean to intrude," I said quickly. "But something's gone wrong with the Dreamsea. We need your help to stop the storm."
Somnos stared at me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. "The storm is not my doing," he said finally. "But you, child of Morpheus—you are tied to it. The Dreamsea responds to you."
I froze. "What do you mean?"
Somnos leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The storm was born from your power, Mykel Stone. You are the key to stopping it. Or letting it consume all."
A chill ran down my spine. The storm—the chaos—it was all because of me?