His memories and dreams begun to blend together from day to day. What he remembered and what he saw when his mind was far away at night seemed to be one, both equally vague, and yet so incredibly real and clear.

He would live in his sleep and he would walk in his dreams, wandering in an endless haze. Nothing was ever clear.

Nothing was ever right. Nothing pieced together.

Nothing fit in. He had no idea about his own life, about his own story.

Every moment was just another unfitting piece of the puzzle, dropped into the mix. But there was some of them – Some storylines, almost, some worlds, some stories, that he took and put together.

He had a close friend? - enemy? - partner? It was hard to tell with all of the jumbled memories, but he remembered some things.

A convincing voice, a chilling laugh, and a cold, angry glare. The voice, any time it spoke, made him trust whoever it was.

The laugh, whenever it echoed through his mind, made him tremble in terror. And the eyes, whenever he saw them, burned through him and made him wish he knew who they belonged to. But he never found out.

He had a companion? - co-worker? - ruler? It was impossible to figure out with how everything flowed together, crumbling any time he tried to hold on.

But he remembered very small elements. A glimmering crown, blood stained hands and a sharp sword.

The crown, any time it showed itself, reminded him there was someone strong leading him on. The blood stains, any time they appeared, showed him he was dealing with something powerful, something twisted.

And the sharp sword – A sword that had taken more lives than any other, a sword that had toppled empires and ended eras... He wished he knew who wielded such a weapon.

But he never found out. He had a brother? - cousin? - son?

There was no way for him to know for sure with how much of a mess his mind was at all times, but he remembered fractions of him, he remembered elements of his face. That annoying laugher, that light blonde tuft of curly hair, and those three music discs.

The laughter, although it came at the worst times, always made him feel like things were okay. The hair, whenever he saw it, made him remember the person he cared for was safe.

The three discs, the discs that, as long as they remained in his possession, showed that things were normal. He wished to know who the owner of these three discs was.

But he never found out. He had friends? Family?

He had people with him, he had worlds he ruled. He had a land all for him, he lived in a land belonging to someone else.

Sometimes he wielded a weapon and slayed hundreds – Other times he was the one being slain. He would talk to people, he would tell them of his life? Dreams? Hallucinations?

Nothing ever stayed, nothing ever remained, everything was a passing glance filled with fakes and red herrings, no truth was clear and no lie seemed to ever be told. Everything was fact but nothing made sense, everything was a constant haze, a constant fog covering up the true order of things and he would never know what was happening because this was his life and this was what was going on, this was...

Will Ash remembered his son. That's when it started.

That was the first time his memories finally fell into one, clean line, and his dreams became something he no longer mistook for reality, but instead clear fiction. When he held him in his arms, when he watched him look back with those bright eyes.

No chilling laugh, no blood-stained hands, and not a single music disc. All it was was his son, and he knew he was real.

He knew he was there, and he knew he finally had something to fight for. He was still lost, wandering in the fog, but he was finally with someone, he finally had a definitive to hang onto.

Where did he come from? Who was the mother?

How would he know, from all these dreams and memories? But he knew he was there, and he knew his name.

His name was Fonda, and he was real. From this single truth came more and more, from a small caravan by a lake to a nearby, ever-growing city.

He started seeing people, people who he could hold onto. No longer were the mysterious eyes glaring at him, no longer was the sharp sword taking lives, and no longer was the blond tuft of curly hair wandering around his mind.

He was finally grounded in a singular reality, a reality he could understand. He lived by a lake while a nation grew nearby – Eventually, he was invited to become a part of this very nation himself.

He didn't know how he got there, who the founders of it were, or why they wanted him and his son on their side. But they didn't ask questions, and that was all he needed.

He got to finally live a free life. So he went through everything in his head, enjoying the freedom he got from finally being able to exist.

No one here used their real name – And the reason was supposed to be universal. He was supposed to know.

But Will didn't know which memory to turn to, which lie to believe, so he was simply himself. He was simply Will Ash, whether or not it was strange.

But no one else had a name like he did – Everyone else had something else. Everyone else donned a lie as their title.

A man named Dissonance ruled it all – A fair ruler at first, but slowly but surely growing more distant and political as the city grew stronger and its population got larger and larger with each day. Georgie and Sapana were by his side, always protecting him, always watching over him, always giving anyone who got too close to him dirty looks.

There was Burgess and Sot – Inseparable friends, always annoying each other as much as possible but instantly coming to each other's sides if either was hurt. There was Quawin, a man who he rarely saw around but whenever he did, he always seemed to be up to something.

Taza was there – the young boy only four years junior to Will's son, who spent many days wandering the city, often spending most of his time with the bees in the nearby flower field. And there were many, many more people... And Will knew they were all real.

Everything was fine. That was, until the annoying laughter, the blonde tuft of hair and the three discs came back, they came back and they were real.

For a long time, Will believed his dreams and the world in his head to all be fantasy, he believed he had lived out a normal life but locked himself away in another world, cut himself away from whatever he was going through. He thought he was past all that, he thought he was building a new life far away from his dreams? Memories?

To this day, he did not know. But the annoying laugh, the blonde tuft of hair and the three discs were here, and they were real, and they were standing in front of him and they had a name and their name was...

"Tom!"

"E-excuse me?"

Will looked down, snapped out of a trance. Although his memories and dreams separated, and his present was clear, hours and days still blended into each other.

The locals and Fonda knew, of course – They knew Will wasn't always there, but he tried his best. The laugh, the hair and the discs did not know that.

"You asked for my name."

The boy explained. He was short, young.

He looked right about Taza's age, from the little time Will had seen him around. He had a white shirt with a red patch at the top, light beige shorts and bright, blue eyes.

And the hair. A curly, blonde tuft of hair.

Just like the dreams. Just like the memories.

Just like the- What even were they any more?

"So yeah. Tom. Tom Indeo, if you're one of those title people."

No one else used names over titles here. Just Will Ash, because Will Ash didn't remember why everyone else used titles.

"...Oh. I did, didn't I?"

The memory slowly came back, just as it always did. Tom came over to visit, a new citizen of the city, and upon seeing him, Will blanked.

He must have connected him to his dreams... memories... whatever, and it triggered some sort of defensive reaction in him – Just like most things these days did.

"…Nice to meet you. I'm Will. Will Ash."

The boy laughed slightly, with that annoying laugh, tilting his head and making that tuft of hair jump.

"I know...? Uh... you told me already."

Tom would have laughed on, most likely, but when he noticed Will's both confused and somewhat worried expression, he held it back.

"Sorry..."

He muttered in response.

"I... don't have the best memory."

Tom shrugged.

"Well, I said it once and I'll say it again, then. Nice to meet you Mr. Ash. I'm new around here!"

The boy reached out with his right hand, and Will shook it with a bit less hesitation than he spoke to him with a few seconds ago. Slowly but surely, he was warming up to this boy.

But it was difficult with the connections his mind was making as he tried to focus. He wanted to get away already, hide inside his home and let his mind settle this for him, pushing this whole conversation into a dream or a distant memory that never took place.

Maybe this was just one of those that he was recalling, maybe it was just another laughter, hair, and disc memory. Maybe.

But as the conversation carried on, Will realized things had changed.

"...How old are you?"

He asked him, surprised the conversation still carried on without cutting him off somewhere, suddenly. It were as if his mind, for once in his life, focused on a singular moment and didn't want to let go, no matter what.

It were as if finally he had found the space between the dreams and the memories, and it was Tom that was in the centre of it all.

"...Uh... fourteen..."

The boy replied, but the moment of hesitation in his voice could not be overlooked. Either way, just as Will had guessed, he was the same age as Taza, and only four years younger than his son, Fonda.

He was a little taller than the other fourteen year old, though. Will had asked Taza why there was a kid like him all alone in this city in the middle of nowhere before – And the look on his face was one memory he held onto dearly.

This was mainly why he avoided asking this question with this blonde teenager. Same as him, the people here either ran from their pasts or simply didn't remember them – Will had no reason to press the boy on it further.

"My son's eighteen."

Will informed him, every second passing bringing more and more questions. He wanted to shut himself away and figure out why it was now, of all times, that he was allowed to be completely aware of his present.

But he was also afraid, afraid that the moment he turned away he would just lose himself in that fog again.

"Maybe you two could talk?"

"...That'd be fun!"

The boy was swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet, a leather backpack loosely hanging off of his shoulders. He clearly wanted to say something else, but found himself completely unable to put it into words.

He stammered for a bit, and Will finally decided to cut in, knowing that he would not find his words any time soon.

"Anything else you want to say... or can I...?"

He didn't want to. He didn't want to turn around and get back to the mess and fog or whatever he called his life these days.

He didn't want to lose this single moment, but luckily, the unsure expression on Tom's face remained unchanged;

"Right! Sorry! I don't wanna take up any of your time!"

He hesitated for a moment, scrunched up his nose, and fixed up his backpack once more. He cleared his throat, and with how awkwardly and slowly everything was going, Will decided it would be best to just shut the door and cut this whole thing short.

Maybe he would finally free himself from whatever limbo this boy seemed to trap him in, and return to his normal life. He would never find out why the laugh, hair and discs from his dreams were right there in front of him – But maybe that wasn't the worse thing?

However, as he tried to close the door, Tom put his arm in front of it and exclaimed;

"Wait, hold on!"

"...Yes, Tom?"

He asked, looking at the helpless expression now appearing on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and sighed, finally gathering up enough courage to say whatever it was that he wanted to initially ask.

"...I... I don't have anywhere to stay, Mr. Ash."

He muttered under his breath, Will barely being able to hear what it was he said.

"...I just got here and no one really wants me... around..."

He sighed, looking back at the city.

"Especially Dissonance. I kind of... well... pissed him off a little."

"You... 'pissed off' the guy in charge of the city?"

As Will said this, he couldn't help but laugh. From his bruised knees, many band-aids and a single, missing tooth, he could tell this kid was a trouble maker.

And Dissonance had always been a stickler for rules...

"...Look, it's not my fault I have an incredibly unique personality that Dissonance just... wasn't... a fan of...'

Tom tilted his head and grinned.

"But hey, you seem cool, Mr. Ash! So can I stay for a bit, until I can find somewhere else to sleep?"

Will had to give this a lot of thought. The answer was obvious, right?

A fourteen year old kid needed a place to stay and had no one else to turn to, and he had more than enough space and materials to keep him warm and fed for a couple of days. This city had always had a sense of community, and helping and trusting each other was something expected of everyone as a basis.

But there was another problem here, of course. Will Ash, known throughout the city for being distracted, distant, always somewhere else and only ever present when people spoke to him, and even that was rare, was having a full conversation with a stranger.

He remembered the conversation, he remembered the person he had it with, and he was able to respond however he wished. And although Will had long found a way to differentiate his dreams from his memories, he still struggled to recall them quite right.

And he thought that was it. He thought that was life.

He thought it was normal that his past until the birth of his son was an endless haze, a mix of memories and dreams he could never tell apart, a constant struggle to ground himself in reality. His son told him he most likely experienced something traumatic, it was most likely his brain dealing with it.

And he took that as a definite. He got used to only ever being 'present' when people he recognized were around, only remembering fractions of conversations before his mind took him to yet another dream, to yet another world he would never be able to quite recall.

He thought he was just a victim of something long, long gone, but could live freely now. But no.

Tom, with the annoying laugh, the blonde tuft of curly hair and the three discs came into his life and once more made him question where the line between dreams and memories could truly be drawn – So naturally, Will Ash did the only thing he thought he could. The only logical thing;

"Sure. Come in. Make yourself at home."

He turned back, and left the door wide open. He wandered inside and upon turning away from Tom, expected another cut in his memory.

Another dream. Still, nothing.

The world was still there, where he had left it.

"Thank you so much Mr. Ash! You're like... an actual hero!"

The boy stepped inside, scraping some dirt off of his shoes on the door frame. Will turned back and smiled.

"Just call me Will. No need for formalities."

The boy's face lit up. He grinned for a moment, revealing that missing tooth of his.

He couldn't help but wonder how it came to fall out...

"Sure thing Will! Uh... so.. where can I sleep?"

Tom started looking around, laying his bag down by a nearby closet. And as the top of the bag slowly slipped open, he noticed something strange inside.

Something he was wondering if he would ever see. He crouched down to take a closer look as the fourteen year old became distracted with something else in the caravan.

In the bag, as the boy's only possessions at all, he found three things. Three music discs.

Will would have asked something – Maybe he would have asked what they were, where they came from, maybe gotten some answers as to why he kept seeing them in his dreams. But he didn't.

Why? He wasn't sure.

Maybe he was afraid? Maybe he didn't want to know?

Either way, he zipped up the bag and joined Tom as he wandered the small caravan, showing him a place where he could sleep.

And the whole time, he couldn't help but find himself completely shocked – Shocked by the fact he was still there, shocked by the fact he was still aware, shocked by the fact that he knew what was going on and who he was with. Eventually, Will got a place ready for Tom and after thanking him a total of right around twenty times, he finally left to go and look for somewhere where he could stay permanently before night came.

And here came the final surprise – The final shock, the final revelation, the final unexplained occurrence; Tom was gone, and Will was still there.

For the first time in as long as he remembered, Will stood alone, with no one else nearby and still managed to be there, be aware. And although he was lost, confused, so incredibly in need of some explanations, he was happy.

He was overwhelmed with joy from whatever freedom meeting Tom had brought him, and he could not describe the feeling of finally being able to stay somewhere, in one place, between one dream and one memory, for all this time. He didn't really know what to do, so he just... sat there.

Just like he always did, sitting in one place, enjoying the silence and whatever thoughts his brain brought along. But this time, he thought about what was around him, what he could see, what he could feel.

He noticed when the doors opened and Fonda got back – He rummaged through their stuff, got something, and then walked up to Will. And he would never forget how happy the conversation he had made him;

"Hey dad. I just got back-"

He started with that usual patient tone of voice.

"-five minutes ago. Yeah. I know."

Will smiled.

"I remember."

The smile on Fonda's face was something he would never forget, same as the brief hug that followed. It was such a simple thing, but to them, it was so important.

That evening would be a normal evening to anyone else – Talking, eating, going to sleep. But to them, it was different.

To them it was so much more important. Will was happy, that much was true.

But... although he was happy, he could never predict the suffering his new awareness would bring. And it all started with Dissonance.