My mind was a chaotic storm, yet it hummed with euphoria.

Wake up.

Screams, twisted voices, dancing shadows, the world felt eerily peaceful.

Wake up.

A thick, curling mist enveloped me, dragging me deeper.

Wake up.

Then, a firework. It exploded, radiant, beautiful.

Trapped.

****

"Argh!"

Seven jolted awake, breath ragged. His chest heaved, sweat gluing his clothes to his skin. He gasped, heart drumming against his ribs.

The nightmare clung to him, its ghostly whispers persistent.

The images, twisted voices, agonized screams, shadows writhing, burned into his mind.

Trembling, he wiped his forehead and swung his legs off the bed. The cold floor jolted his bare feet. Wake up. Really wake up.

Standing, his legs wobbled like a newborn fawn's. He staggered toward the bathroom, gripping the wall.

The flickering light buzzed weakly before flooding the room.

In the mirror, a stranger glared back: dark hollows under bloodshot eyes, pallid skin, sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead.

Dry lips parted between labored breaths.

Exhausted. Worn. Hollow.

"Just a dream," he croaked. A hollow lie.

He splashed icy water on his face, shuddering as it shocked his nerves. Still, the fog of unease lingered.

Drying his face, he stared again. The dreams were etching into him, carving something out.

But what?

Was he unraveling?

Perhaps.

But he couldn't dwell. He needed to move.

****

The clock read 6:30 AM.

The world outside was still caught in the fragile stillness between night and day, where the sky remained a deep, inky blue, only beginning to yield to the first traces of dawn.

The air carried a crisp chill, the kind that bit at the skin yet felt oddly refreshing.

Seven tried to shake off the lingering heaviness in his mind as he stepped out of the room and into the hall.

The faint sound of sizzling oil and the rhythmic clatter of utensils greeted him from the kitchen.

A warm glow spilled into the hallway, and the soft scent of eggs and toast wafted through the air.

Standing at the stove was a woman, her long dark hair cascading down her back, slightly tousled from sleep.

Loose strands framed her sharp yet delicate features, and her deep brown eyes held the quiet focus of someone lost in routine.

She wore an oversized sweater that draped over her small frame, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal slender wrists.

Despite her tired posture, there was a certain warmth in her presence, calm, steady. His sister named Rain.

Rain had always been an early riser, just like him.

It was a habit she never broke, waking up at dawn, making breakfast, moving through the motions of the morning like clockwork.

Seven leaned against the doorway, watching her for a moment before speaking.

"I'm heading out," he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

His sister glanced back at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Morning jog?"

He nodded.

"Alright, be safe." She turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs with practiced ease.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Want me to save you some?"

Seven hesitated for a second before shaking his head.

"I'll eat later."

"Okies," she said simply, her voice light and unconcerned.

With that, he wore his hoodie and stepped outside.

The cold air greeted him instantly, sharp yet strangely welcome.

His breath curled in the morning air, a fleeting mist that dissipated as quickly as it formed.

**

The streets were eerily quiet, the last traces of night lingering at the edges of the city.

Streetlights flickered uncertainly, their glow fading against the creeping dawn.

The damp pavement glistened with early morning dew.

Seven walked without thinking, his footsteps the only sound in the stillness.

This solitude should have been calming, a fleeting peace before the world woke.

Yet unease clung to him, heavy and suffocating, as if the dream refused to let go.

Seven walked, his mind foggy with exhaustion.

He had walked this path countless times, but today felt different, an unfamiliar presence in the air.

He shuddered, dismissing it as sleep deprivation, and kept moving.

It started as a whisper in the air, a subtle shift that made Seven pause.

The city lights flickered, a brief glitch in the world's fabric.

Just as he took a step, something changed.

The air rippled, a faint, invisible force pushing at him, urging him to move.

He froze, heart pounding, unsure of what was happening.

Before he could react, the air cracked, reality-bending with a quiet, unnerving snap.

The ground vanished, and the world dissolved into a suffocating darkness.

He reached out, but there was nothing to grasp, just the endless pull of the void and silence, as he fell into the unknown.

Then, as suddenly as it started, the fall stopped.

But the world didn't return.