Henry jolted awake.
His bunk in the Traveler's Hub creaked beneath him, damp with sweat. His fingers twitched, reaching for a knife he didn't remember owning—only to find his palms empty.
> "Just a dream," he muttered.
But he knew better.
The cold chill at the base of his skull wasn't from fear—it was the system syncing. A quiet tick-tick-tick in his brain like a metronome of madness.
[Trait Activated: Dreamlink Instability]
> You have glimpsed an incoming Rift. Sleep no longer guarantees rest.
Clue: "The playground swings at night."
Henry sat up, rubbing his temples. His HUD flickered faintly in the corner of his vision. No mission notifications. No urgent alerts. Just... that single line.
The playground swings at night.
---
The Hub was quieter than usual—early morning hours in a place where time wasn't always linear.
He found Beetle in the central commons, tinkering with a drone the size of a football.
> "You look like hell," Beetle said without looking up.
"Dream Rift," Henry replied.
"Already? Damn, that didn't take long. Most Wanderers last a month before that starts."
"Is that bad?"
"If you're asking that, you haven't seen a dream bleed over yet."
Henry leaned against the railing. "I saw trees made of signs. The stars bled symbols. There was a voice... said I opened the gate."
Beetle finally looked up.
> "What gate?"
"No clue."
"Then maybe don't let it open."
Easier said than done.
---
The clue haunted him all day.
He skipped the combat sims, ignored the Hub's announcements. Instead, he wandered the archive stacks—one of the few places in the Hub that didn't hum with electricity or madness.
Old-world Rift logs. Wanderer journals. Failed entries. Pages filled with rambling paranoia.
And then he found it—an old cassette file from a D-Class team, labeled simply:
> "CASE 88-G: Swingfield."
---
The log was corrupted. But parts played:
> "...we thought it was just an urban anomaly. The swings moved at night—always by threes. No wind. No animals. No children. The locals said it was haunted..."
> "...three agents went missing. When we reviewed the feed, we saw them walk into the park—and then they vanished, replaced by chalk drawings of themselves on the pavement..."
Henry shut it off.
> This is it.
The same symbols he saw bleeding from the stars were drawn in charcoal beside the swings. Same shapes. Same rhythm.
> "This is a pre-Rift echo."
---
That night, he didn't sleep. Not really.
He just... blinked—and found himself standing in front of a rusted playground, alone. Fog pooled at his feet. The swings moved in perfect unison. Back and forth. Back and forth.
[Dream Rift Sync – LIVE]
Zone: Swingfield Echo
Objective: Discover the source of the anomaly. Survive.
The world shifted.
A child stood beside the swings. His back was to Henry. Pale hair. Too still.
Henry moved slowly.
> "Hey," he called softly. "Are you okay?"
The boy turned.
His face was a scribble. Eyes were drawn in with charcoal. Mouth missing. His shadow moved before he did.
> "You opened the gate," the boy said, voice like a broken tape.
"I didn't—"
"You dreamed of the wrong door."
Suddenly, Henry was surrounded.
More children. All faceless. All humming a low tune—the same three notes over and over, in perfect rhythm with the swinging chains.
[System Alert: Sanity Drain Accelerating – 65% Core Sanity Remaining]
The ground beneath the swings began to crack, bleeding static.
> "They want you to stay," the boy said.
> "I'm not staying."
[Skill Unlocked: Pulse Snap – Shatter nearby illusions for 3 seconds.]
Henry gritted his teeth and activated the ability. The world glitched. The children wavered, their forms twisting, folding in on themselves like burning film.
He ran.
Through fog. Through shrieking shadows. Through trees made of old warning signs.
[Zone Collapse: 00:45 seconds]
---
He reached a hill.
There, impaled into the ground, was a mirror. Cracked. Silver-lined. A black mark pulsed in its center like a heartbeat.
And Henry saw himself inside.
But older. Tired. Wearing a uniform that didn't exist yet. Eyes glowing with madness.
The reflection spoke.
> "You're not ready."
"I don't care."
"You think this is about you?"
"It's my dream. My Rift."
"No. It's our prison."
The mirror shattered.
---
Henry screamed.
Woke up in the Hub. On the floor. Dex and Asha staring down at him.
> "What the hell happened?" Asha asked.
"Dream Rift," Henry gasped. "It synced while I was awake."
Beetle looked at his HUD.
> "You just leveled up... while unconscious."
"How's that possible?"
"Dream Rift mechanics," Dex muttered. "They're starting to notice you."
---
NEW SYSTEM UPDATES:
Dreamlink Instability (Stage 2)
> Your dreams now connect to pre-Rift anomalies. These Rifts may emerge into reality if not resolved in time.
New Trait: Echowalker
> You can passively see "bleed-throughs" from future or forgotten Rifts in the waking world. Grants brief insight—but costs sanity.
New Skill: Pulse Snap (Tier 1)
> Disrupts illusion-type enemies and terrain. 3-second exposure. Cooldown: 25s.
Core Sanity Remaining: 68%
---
Henry sat in the infirmary for hours, staring at his hands.
The mirror. The symbols. The chalk children. The whispers.
They weren't just dreams. They were warnings.
And something behind the Rifts—something ancient and furious—had just noticed him.
> I didn't open the gate.
But even as he told himself that...
...he knew he had.