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The King of Dreams Chapter 147
Lyta Hall sat in her dimly lit living room, the weight of her son's disappearance pressing heavily upon her. The shadows seemed to whisper around her, echoing her deepest fears. Her mind replayed the dream from the previous night—the haunting figures of the Furies offering their assistance in finding Daniel. Desperation gnawed at her, making their proposition increasingly tempting.Rose Walker observed her friend with growing concern. She had been by Lyta's side since Daniel vanished, witnessing her descent into grief and obsession. The mention of the Furies alarmed her; their reputation as agents of vengeance was well-known, and their involvement often led to tragic outcomes."Lyta," Rose began gently, "I understand your pain and the depths you're willing to go to find Daniel. But seeking the Furies' help is a dangerous path. Their form of justice is absolute and often comes with unforeseen consequences."Lyta's eyes, red from sleepless nights and constant tears, met Rose's. "But wha
The King of Dreams Chapter 148
In the days that followed, Lyta Hall's anguish deepened. Her son, Daniel, remained missing, and despite Morpheus's assurances and Rose's steadfast support, a gnawing suspicion took root in her heart. She couldn't shake the feeling that Morpheus, the enigmatic Lord of Dreams, was responsible for her child's disappearance.One evening, as shadows lengthened across her living room, Lyta sat clutching a photograph of Daniel. Tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock—a cruel reminder of time slipping away.A gentle knock at the door interrupted her sorrowful reverie. Rose entered, her expression a blend of concern and determination."Lyta," Rose began softly, "I know you're hurting. But we need to consider every possibility. Morpheus is doing everything he can to find Daniel."Lyta's eyes flashed with a mix of pain and anger. "Is he? Or is he just covering his tracks?"Rose took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I
The King of Dreams Chapter 149
In the heart of the Dreaming, Morpheus sat upon his throne, the weight of Daniel's unexplained absence pressing heavily upon him. Lucien, ever the diligent librarian, stood nearby, his brow furrowed in contemplation."My lord," Lucien ventured, "I have consulted the records and found no indication that any of your siblings are responsible for the obstruction of Daniel's dreams."Morpheus's gaze remained distant, his thoughts a maelstrom of concern and speculation. "Then who, Lucien? Who possesses the power to veil a dream from even my sight?"Lucien hesitated before speaking, "There is one... Calliope."Morpheus's eyes narrowed, a flicker of emotion crossing his features. "Calliope? My former wife? She is a muse, a bringer of inspiration, not a manipulator of dreams.""Indeed, my lord," Lucien acknowledged, "but her powers are vast, and her motivations, perhaps, inscrutable. After the tragedy of Orpheus, her grief was profound. It is conceivable that she might act in ways we cannot pr
The King of Dreams Chapter 150
In the heart of the dreaming, the throne room stood cloaked in an eerie stillness. morpheus, lord of dreams, sat upon his throne, his pale features etched with concern. the absence of daniel, the current incarnation of dream, weighed heavily upon him. beside him, constantine stood, the rune on her wrist pulsing with a faint glow. lucien, the ever-watchful librarian, entered, his footsteps echoing softly."constantine," lucien began, adjusting his spectacles, "you mentioned the rune can lead us to daniel. how exactly will it accomplish this?"constantine extended her arm, revealing the glowing rune. "during my meditations, it revealed visions—glimpses of daniel's location and the entity responsible for his disappearance. it's as if the rune is attuned to the very fabric of dreams and can trace disturbances within it."morpheus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "such autonomy from the rune is unprecedented. are you certain of its intentions?""while its motives remain enigmatic, the c
The King of Dreams Chapter 151
The sky was a smear of dark blues and rust, streetlights winking like tired eyes. Rain misted over everything, not heavy enough to soak, just enough to make the world feel damp and slow. Constantine moved through it like smoke—hood up, boots soundless on wet pavement.She was careful. She had to be.Crossing into the waking world was never exactly clean. The Dreaming didn’t let go easy, not when you were carrying something touched by the Rune. Not when the Rune itself had stirred.She could feel it. Not just the memory of the Rune’s pulse still humming in her bones, but the thing that followed. A shadow that didn't belong in either world. It didn’t chase her—but it watched. It had *started* watching when the Rune had flickered that final time, and it hadn’t stopped.“Keep low,” she muttered to herself, ducking into an alley that reeked of wet brick and old oil. “Don’t linger. Don’t get dragged in.”The flickering lamplight buzzed above her as she reached into her coat. She pulled out
The King of Dreams Chapter 152
The air here was not like the Dreaming’s usual weightless breath. It was dense, oppressive—woven of thoughts, echoes, and the forgotten whispers of dreams long discarded. The Deep Dreaming was where reality unraveled, where even the Endless seldom tread. It was a place where the fabric of existence frayed, and Morpheus—Dream, Lord of the Endless—had descended to search for the very threads of his brother Daniel, torn from the world above.Morpheus moved with purpose, his steps heavy, yet silent. His cloak of night fluttered like a shadow, stretching and twisting in the air, a part of him, but not him. Here, even his form seemed like an echo of itself.The place was not a landscape but a vast ocean of thought, of memories, of unfinished dreams—of things that might have been, or could be, if only given time. Shapes shifted and pulsed around him—fragments of broken dreams, abandoned desires, and forgotten hopes.Here, the laws of time and space did not apply. Here, all things were possib
The King of Dreams Chapter 153
The shadows parted as Morpheus walked, silent and determined, toward the place where Daniel lay.He had followed the faint traces of his son’s essence—threads of white-gold light, scattered like star dust through the Deep Dreaming. At the heart of it, hidden behind a veil of Calliope’s sorrow and rage, Daniel slept.He was suspended in a dreamless cocoon, his small form glowing faintly with the flicker of the divine and the mortal, the Dreaming and the waking world interwoven in him. Morpheus stopped before the boy, his heart heavier than it had been in ages.Daniel did not stir.“Daniel,” Morpheus whispered, lowering himself to one knee. “Your dreaming is your own. And now, it is time to wake.”He reached forward and laid his hand over the child’s chest. A soft ripple of silver light spread outward from his touch, and with it, the spell that had held Daniel captive began to unravel. The cocoon dissolved like fog beneath the morning sun.Daniel did not open his eyes, but the boy’s bre
The King of Dreams Chapter 154
The flat smelled of old leather, rain-soaked wool, and incense that had burned too long. The windows were shut tight against the April chill, but the air inside was electric—charged with runes, candle smoke, and something older that clung to the corners like mold. Constantine sat at her cluttered desk, sleeves rolled up, ash from her cigarette dusting a dog-eared copy of *Codex Umbrae*. Symbols were scrawled on the open pages in faded ink: layered scripts of Enochian, Greek, and something she couldn’t quite name. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she was close—she could feel it.The Rune. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a seal or prison. It was a key. A lure. A warning.And something followed it.She tapped her pen against the page, absently tracing the curve of a spiral etched into the margin. “You’re not just any bloody glyph,” she muttered. “You’re bait.”The lights in the flat dimmed. Just slightly. Just enough.She froze.Then turned her head, slow and deliberate, towar
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Chapter 169
Ten years later the Dreaming shimmered beneath an amber sky, its rivers flowing with starlight, its towers carved from forgotten songs and ancient memories. In the heart of the realm, on the edge of a balcony made of glass and moonstone, Constantine stood, her coat fluttering softly in the breeze that didn’t belong to any weather system but to the breath of dreams.She felt the hum of the Rune at her side, though now it no longer throbbed with warning or shadow. It was quiet—obedient, almost serene. She had long since mastered it, fused it with her essence, and become something more than human… yet not quite Endless.Footsteps approached from behind, deliberate and elegant.“I thought you hated balconies,” Morpheus said, his voice as calm and infinite as ever.Constantine gave a small smirk. “I did. Until they stopped meaning danger.”Morpheus moved beside her, his presence familiar now—not just a god of dreams, not just a ruler of an infinite realm, but her companion. Her equal.“Thi
Chapter 168
Daniel stood beneath a silver-blooming tree, its petals drifting lazily through the air like soft flakes of moonlight. Matthew the raven had flown ahead to scout the next curve of the path, but Daniel lingered in the soft hush of the moment. Behind him, the Dreaming shimmered in ways that couldn’t be described—only felt.He turned as Morpheus approached silently, his long shadow trailing behind him like a veil of stars.“Do you regret it?” Daniel asked.Morpheus tilted his head, his dark eyes studying the young man closely. “Regret… is a waking world emotion. But I know the weight of choice.”Daniel hesitated, his fingers brushing the smooth bark of the tree. “If I say yes… to the Dreaming. If I choose to be its next ruler—what happens to my life in the waking world? What happens to my mom?”“You are not bound by time or place as others are,” Morpheus said softly. “You are made of both realms. A bridge between them.”“But bridges are meant to connect, not live,” Daniel replied. “Can I
Chapter 167
The kitchen smelled faintly of rosemary and coffee, though neither had been brewed that morning. Lyta sat at the table, her hands folded tightly in front of her, her eyes fixed on the old clock above the stove. The second hand ticked like a distant heartbeat. She hadn’t moved in some time.From where she sat, she could see the garden through the window—the cherry tree where Morpheus had stood. He was gone now, or perhaps merely unseen again. The air felt ordinary, but Lyta knew better than to believe in appearances.The back door creaked open.Lyta didn’t turn. “Did you speak to him?”“Yes,” came Daniel’s voice—quiet, full of thought.Now she turned, eyes wide with the weight of anticipation. Her son stood just inside the doorway, his shoulders hunched slightly, as though he’d been walking through centuries. His face was pale but calm. He looked older than he had just an hour ago.“You remember him,” Lyta said.Daniel gave a small nod. “I do. Not everything. But enough.”Lyta stood sl
Chapter 166
The sun filtered softly through the curtains of Lyta Hall’s modest home, golden light falling across the floor like blessings. The house was quiet. A stillness had settled over it since the early morning, when Daniel had gone for one of his long walks. He was taller now, with eyes too thoughtful for someone his age and a silence that often made Lyta ache.She sat at the kitchen table, fingers wrapped around a cup of tea long gone cold. Her eyes stared through the steam, through the walls, into memory. The years had been kind in some ways, harsh in others. Daniel had grown, as boys do, but there was always something in him—something that shimmered beneath the surface, something not quite of this world.And Lyta had known. She’d always known this day would come.The air in the room shifted, stilled even more. The shadows along the edges of the room stretched, deepened. The light dimmed—not harshly, but like dusk arriving early.He stood behind her before she heard his footsteps.“Morphe
Chapter 165
The sky above Hell was not a sky at all, but a vast, churning storm of ash and fire. Mountains of bone reached toward it, and rivers of molten hatred carved paths across a land that screamed in silence. Nothing here grew. Nothing here lived. Yet it pulsed with eternal motion—restless, ancient.Morpheus stepped through the obsidian gate alone, though Matthew flew above him, circling in tight arcs. The raven’s feathers twitched with unease.“I hate this place,” Matthew muttered. “Seriously. Every time we come here, I swear the heat gets worse. And those things with teeth for eyes were *staring* at me.”Morpheus said nothing.He walked toward the obsidian steps of Lucifer’s citadel, where reality bent and recoiled in the presence of pride made flesh. The doors opened without a sound, their carvings writhing with scenes of ambition and fall, endless betrayal, and cold beauty.Lucifer Morningstar stood at the top of the stairs, waiting, arms folded across a regal black coat that shimmered
Chapter 164
The chains cracked like thunder splitting across a void.Flames peeled back. The Realms of Fire shuddered as Destruction stirred. His eyes opened fully—vast pools of molten gold that held the weight of ages. Power rippled from him, not chaotic, but vast. A silent storm.Azazel screamed.“No!” the demon howled, fire bursting from his twisted form like a crown of rage. “You don’t understand! If he’s freed, he will burn all! Destruction *is* the end!”“You fear him,” Morpheus said, stepping forward, shadows clinging to his cloak like mist. “Because he is more than you ever were.”Destruction's voice rolled out, slow and steady, shaking the very ground beneath them.“I never asked to be your weapon.”The gold-and-flame bindings trembled, then shattered.In that instant, Destruction rose.He stood tall—taller than any of them remembered, broad-shouldered and ageless. His red hair swept back like flickering embers in a breeze, his skin luminous with the heat of stars. He stretched one arm,
Chapter 163
The Realms of Fire were alive, not with breath but with hunger. Every stone whispered, every gust of ash howled with the echoes of consumed worlds. As the Endless and their companions moved deeper, the flames recoiled—not from fear, but recognition. They knew who had come.And then, the fire opened like an eye.He emerged.Azazel.He took no single form. A writhing mass of flame and teeth, wings that folded and unfolded from every direction, and a voice that scraped like metal over bone. His many eyes blinked from within his own inferno, each one a different shade of malice.“Well, well,” Azazel hissed, his voice echoing in the very air. “I expected one of you. *Not all.*”Morpheus stepped forward. He did not raise his voice, but his presence swelled like a rising tide. “We are here for Destruction.”Azazel’s laughter burned. “You’re too late, Dream. He *is* destruction now. All I did was remind him what he was meant to be.”Constantine stepped beside Morpheus, the Rune aglow on her h
Chapter 162
The Dreaming was quiet in its breath, the way a cathedral holds silence after a prayer. Morpheus stood at the highest terrace of his palace, shadows draped across his shoulders like a second cloak. The stars wheeled in slow silence overhead.He did not summon Lucien and Constantine with sound—he did not need to. They were both already moving toward him, drawn by the same disturbance humming through the realm.Lucien appeared first, her book pressed to her chest, brows furrowed. She never arrived in haste, but tonight, she was nearly breathless.“M’lord,” she said. “The ripple—was it Daniel?”“Yes,” Morpheus answered.Constantine stepped from a veil of dream-smoke moments later, still barefoot from her meditation chamber, the Rune pulsing faintly against her wrist like a resting heartbeat. Her eyes were alert, wary.“Did something happen?” she asked.Morpheus turned to face them both, the weight of what he had to say already shaping the atmosphere. Even the sky above them seemed to lea
Chapter 161
Daniel tossed in his sleep, the blankets tangled like vines around his legs, sweat shining on his forehead. Lyta had just checked on him not long ago—tucked him in, brushed hair from his brow, kissed him gently. The child was still recovering from his strange disappearance, still unconscious for hours at a time. But what she didn’t know—what no one could truly understand—was that Daniel hadn’t fully come back alone.Something had awakened in him.Something ancient.The air around his sleeping body rippled gently, unseen by waking eyes. Dreams hummed under his skin. The Dreaming stirred around him like leaves brushing his thoughts. But now it wasn’t the Dreaming that called to him.It was pain.And not his own.He felt it like a thread burning from the stars, winding into his chest and pulling—gently at first, then with increasing urgency. He didn’t understand the source, but it throbbed with a weight that felt… *familiar*. Not in face or form, but in resonance.Another Endless.A kin.
