2023-05-28 03:37:08Alex heard the sound of glass breaking from a distance and hurried inside at the sound. When he heard a woman sobbing and saw Magnus storming out of a room, he quickly hid.
Concerned, Alex entered the room and inquired about the cause of distress. Through tears, the woman replied, "I'm going to have a baby." Alex's face lit up with joy, and he exclaimed, "Ethel, that's wonderful news!" He smiled warmly and offered his heartfelt congratulations.
Sniffling, Ethel shared, "He wants me to get rid of it. In fact, he's calling the doctor right now." Her words were filled with sadness.
Alex offered a gentle presence, comforting Ethel in her distress. She glanced at him, her expression softening. "I will be fine," she said, managing a smile amidst her tears.
Late at night, Ethel swiftly packed her belongings and stepped into the waiting car, driving away from the scene.
Upon entering his room, Magnus immediately noticed the absence of Morpheus' vestments. It dawned on him that Ethel had taken them all—the helmet, the pouch, the ruby, the grimoire—and even a substantial sum of $200,000 in cash.
"She has taken much more than that," Magnus exclaimed to a group of men, "Find her and bring her back here immediately!" He instructed the guards, seething with anger.
"I want to witness just how desperately the Dream of the Endless wants to escape his cage," Magnus declared before storming out of the room, heading towards Morpheus.
Magnus approached Morpheus, his voice filled with frustration. "The woman who resides with me has not only stolen my fortune but has also pilfered from you," he explained, his tone laced with annoyance. "She has taken your helm, ruby, and sand."
Magnus, determined to rectify the situation, offered a proposition to Morpheus. He promised to unlock the sphere and allow Morpheus to pursue her, on one condition: that Magnus be granted his desires of wealth, youth, and immortality.
Morpheus raised his head, his face contorted with anger, yet he remained silent, withholding his response.
"Oh, you're a god, these things are nothing to you," Magnus exclaimed, attempting to persuade Morpheus. "But don't you desire your weapons and your freedom?"
As anger coursed through Magnus' veins, witnessing Morpheus' continued silence, he grabbed his walking stick and slammed it against the glass in frustration. "Speak to me! Speak to me! Speak to me!" he shouted, desperate for a response from the enigmatic figure before him.
Alex gently placed a hand on Magnus' shoulder, attempting to calm him down. "It's alright, father," Alex said calmly, trying to soothe the anger within Magnus. However, Magnus turned towards Alex, his anger unabated. "Get away from me!" he shouted, delivering a punch that sent Alex stumbling backward. "If you were any kind of son to me," Magnus said with disappointment, his words laced with bitterness.
As Magnus reached for his walking stick, intending to use it as a weapon against his own son, Alex swiftly grabbed hold of it, preventing Magnus from inflicting harm. Magnus held onto the stick tightly, his gaze locked with Alex's.
"If Randell were alive..." Magnus began, his voice filled with deep disappointment. But before Magnus could finish his sentence, Alex interrupted, his frustration and anger breaking through. "If he were alive, he would have hated you as much as I do," Alex retorted, his words cutting through the air. The weight of their strained relationship hung heavy between them, filled with sorrow and resentment.
Magnus's anger overwhelmed him, and he swung his fist at Alex, forcefully pushing him away. However, in his blind rage, Magnus lost his balance and struck his head against the glass sphere that held Morpheus captive. The impact was jarring, causing Magnus to collapse onto the ground and motionless.
As Alex quickly approached Magnus, he noticed the blood flowing from the back of Magnus's head. Concerned for his father's well-being, Alex placed his hand on the wound, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding.
Despite the severity of Magnus's condition, he mustered the strength to address Morpheus with defiance. "You're never getting out of there... Never," Magnus uttered, his voice filled with a mix of bitterness and determination.
Morpheus, unmoved by Magnus's suffering, gazed down upon him, his expression unchanged and devoid of remorse.
As Magnus fought desperately for his life, his plea for help went unanswered. With an immense loss of blood, he succumbed to his injuries, life slipping away. In the midst of the tragic scene, Alex rose to his feet, distancing himself from his father's lifeless body.
Locked in a penetrating gaze, Morpheus and Alex found themselves in an intense standoff. Inside the confines of the glass sphere, Morpheus stood tall, his expression filled with anticipation, silently urging Alex to release him from his captivity.
Morpheus extended his hand towards the glass, yearning for contact, as Alex mirrored the gesture, their fingertips nearly touching the barrier. "Don't do it, sir," one of the guards warned, concern etched on his face. But Alex persisted, inching closer to the glass alongside Morpheus. The guard's voice cut through the air, his words aimed at stirring doubt within Alex's heart. "What would your father say?" The impact of those words struck Alex, causing him to withdraw his hand from the glass, stepping back hesitantly.
In that moment, hope flickered and faded within Morpheus, realizing that Alex would not comply with his silent plea for release. "I need to think," Alex uttered, his voice heavy with conflicting emotions. With hurried steps, he hastily departed the room, leaving Morpheus trapped once again, confined to his glass prison.
Outside, in the rain-soaked garden, Alex stood lost in thought, his mind consumed by the recent events. As he contemplated the weight of his decisions, Paul, passing by with a wheelbarrow, noticed Alex's somber demeanor and called out to him. "Sir," Paul said, his voice filled with genuine concern, "Are you alright?"
Alex, shaken by the recent loss of his father, struggled to find the right words. "My father... he's gone," he finally managed to utter, a mixture of pain and newfound freedom evident in his voice. Paul's expression softened, and he reached out to offer his support. "I'm so sorry, sir," Paul empathized, his voice filled with genuine remorse.
"I'm so sorry, Alex," Paul said, stepping closer and offering his hand in a gesture of comfort. Alex, feeling the weight of his emotions, gratefully accepted the support, allowing their hands to intertwine. In that simple touch, Alex found solace and a sense of reassurance. The rain continued to fall around them, but in that moment, a bond of understanding was formed between the two men.
Out of loss, new love was born, as was new life.
Nine months later Ethel gave birth to a son.
In the depths of an ancient cave, Ethel sought refuge with her newborn son, cradling him gently in her arms. Adorned with the ruby, which glimmered with an ethereal light around her neck, she spoke softly to her child, their voices echoing in the quiet sanctuary.
"My dear Johnny," Ethel whispered, her eyes filled with determination, "the king of dreams is not coming to make us dream. So from now on, Johnny we will have to make our own dreams come true"
The following morning, Alex accompanied by Paul visited Morpheus in the chamber. As they entered, Paul's eyes widened in astonishment upon seeing Morpheus seated naked within the glass sphere.
"Oh, my God," Paul gasped, his voice filled with disbelief and awe. Turning to Alex, he called out, "Alex, what is this?"
Alex stepped forward, a hint of familiarity in his expression. "Hello," he greeted, introducing his friend to the enigmatic figure before them. "Paul, this is our unwilling guest."
Alex stepped closer to Morpheus, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and hope. "Please, Morpheus, promise us that if we release you, we won't be harmed."
Silence still gripped Morpheus, his expression unchanged.
Paul, undeterred, approached the glass and spoke softly. "If you could just communicate with us, help us understand."
Alex let out a sigh, his disappointment evident. "You see, Paul, I told you he won't respond."
But Paul remained determined, refusing to give up. "Let's keep trying. Let's show him that he can trust us. Maybe with time, he'll open up."
"I will release you. I do mean it," Alex affirmed, his determination unwavering. He sought reassurance that both he and Paul would be safe once Morpheus was freed.
Morpheus continued to gaze downward, his silence lingering. Thoughts raced through his mind, contemplating whether he should trust Alex, perhaps even forgive him for the murderer of his beloved raven. But in the end, he could not believe Alex.
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Despair entered her gray and shadowy domain, the oppressive atmosphere weighing down her already burdened shoulders. The walls of her palace were adorned with rusted mirrors and remnants of forgotten sorrows, each reflecting the emptiness of the souls she represented. She sat on a low stool, her barbed hook clutched in her trembling hands, as Desire followed behind, their golden eyes scanning the room with a mixture of boredom and unease.“This is a bad idea,” Despair muttered, her voice low and rasping. “A terrible idea.”Desire sighed dramatically, leaning against one of the crooked pillars. “Tell me something I don’t already know, sister. Dream has always been reckless, always so full of himself. This is just another one of his grandiose schemes to make himself the hero.”Despair shook her head, her fingers gripping the hook tighter. “It’s not just recklessness. It’s desperation. He’s asking us to risk everything. To pour out the very essence of who we are. What if it doesn’t work?
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Morpheus paced his throne room, the weight of Despair and Desire’s findings pressing heavily on his mind. His siblings’ experiences with the shadowy emptiness only confirmed what he had feared—something ancient and malevolent was encroaching on the realms of the Endless. It was no longer confined to dreams or desires; it was spreading like an insidious disease, touching every corner of existence. He stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the swirling mists beyond his windows. "Lucien," he called. Lucien appeared from the shadows, a stack of books clutched in his hands. "My lord?" "I must speak with Death. She will have seen signs of this chaos among the souls she collects. Hold the Dreaming in my absence." Lucien nodded, though his expression was troubled. "Be cautious, my lord. If this force can affect Despair and Desire, there’s no telling what it might do to the others." Morpheus said nothing, stepping into the shadows and vanishing from the Dreaming.Morpheus materialized i
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With the oppressive weight of the waking world hanging over them like a black cloud, despair and desire crossed the boundary once more into the Dreaming. They had found nothing tangible in their search, but what they had found—the omnipresent void, the shadowy figure—could not be disregarded. In his throne room, Morpheus stood poised like a statue, waiting. Lucien was standing close by, his hands clasped, his face displaying the strain of the Dreaming's problems. The atmosphere was instantly altered by the arrival of Despair and Desire. "You've come back," Morpheus said in a soothing yet tense voice. "What have you found?" Despair took a while to speak. The sound of her barbed hook clinking on the floor echoed throughout the large room as she dropped it at her feet. "It's everywhere," she said in a hollow voice. The emptiness permeates every aspect of the waking world like a plague. I can't even touch them. Their hopelessness is phony and unfounded. Morpheus looked at Desire,
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With their opposing energies creating an unseen tension between them, Despair and Desire silently left the Endless gathering. The scenery changed to a drab gray as they left the Dreaming and entered the real world. The sounds of life, such as laughter, conversation, and the rustle of leaves, were muted and faint, and the air felt heavy, as though the world itself had lost the ability to feel. This was a familiar world to Despair. She flourished on the silence, the emptiness, and the crushing weight of it all. As she watched the waking world go by, she absently dragged her barbed hook across her palm. "It's already here," she muttered in a gravelly, low voice. "The void. They feel as though it is a second skin.But Desire was not impressed. With a smooth, melodic voice that was brimming with derision, they answered, "It's always there, darling." That is the state of humanity. Yes, emptiness, longing, and yearning. However, this... feels different.They entered a busy city street and
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Tension reverberated through the Endless's great hall, a place unconstrained by time and molded solely by the essence of its occupants. As solemn as the night sky, Dream sat at the center of the group. Death was standing to his right, composed but with an unwavering determination. Desire sat on his left, their face a mixture of contempt and laughter. Despair was there in the shadows, hardly perceptible but always there, gripping her barbed hook with shaking fingers, her eyes displaying a silent, all-encompassing agony. "This cannot go on," Dream started in a steady but irritated tone. "Mortals are no longer dreaming as they used to in the waking world. They don't have any imagination, hope, or even nightmares while they sleep. The Dreaming is in pain and disintegrating. It has an impact on everything. Desire twirled a golden strand of their hair and laughed softly. Dream, you're always so dramatic. Maybe the mortals are just sick of your little fantasies. Perhaps they've discovered
