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The King of Dreams Chapter 93
The Dreaming pulsed with anticipation. Every shadow, every ripple in the mist carried the weight of something inevitable. War was coming. The Endless had trained, Constantine had embraced the Rune, and yet, there was still one missing piece. Lucifer. Morpheus sat in his throne, fingers steepled, his expression unreadable as he gazed into the shifting void beyond his chamber. He could summon his siblings, command the denizens of his realm, but Lucifer Morningstar was not one to be called upon lightly. Lucien stood beside him, hands clasped behind her back, watching her lord in contemplation. “You will need him,” she said finally, her voice soft but firm. Morpheus inclined his head slightly. “Yes.” Lucien hesitated for a moment. “Then how will you reach him? Lucifer does not answer to summons.” Morpheus did not reply immediately. Instead, he raised his hand, letting the very essence of the Dreaming swirl around his fingertips—silver mist and shifting darkness bending to his
The King of Dreams Chapter 94
The throne room of the Dreaming was vast and dark, its towering pillars vanishing into the endless void above. Flickering blue torches lined the walls, their eerie glow casting long, restless shadows. The air hummed with the weight of those gathered, beings who had existed since the dawn of time, now standing in uneasy alliance. Morpheus sat upon his onyx throne, his expression impassive yet unreadable. His endless cloak of midnight billowed slightly, as if stirred by an unseen breeze. His fingers rested lightly on the armrests, but there was a tension in his posture, a subtle edge of anticipation. One by one, they had arrived. Death was the first, stepping out of nothingness, her warm presence a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere. Dressed in her usual casual attire, she folded her arms and sighed, looking around the room. “Alright,” she said, “let’s get this over with.” Desire came next, their golden eyes gleaming with amusement as they strolled in, graceful and unbother
The King of Dreams Chapter 95
Matthew soared through the darkened sky, feeling the rush of the wind beneath his wings as he left the Dreaming behind. The shift between realms was seamless—a flicker of motion, a sensation like slipping between the cracks of reality. Then, suddenly, he was in the Waking World. The air was heavier here, filled with scents of earth, smoke, and life. The distant hum of a city thrummed in his ears. He banked right, angling toward the streets below. “Alright,” he muttered to himself, scanning the city. “Food, food… where do humans get their food?” His sharp eyes locked onto a marketplace—a small, bustling area still alive with activity, even at this hour. Warm, golden lights glowed from stalls, and the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread curled into the air. Matthew swooped down, perching on the wooden beam of a nearby stall. The vendor, a burly man with tired eyes, was slicing a loaf of bread. His back was turned. Perfect. The raven hopped forward, eyeing a piece of warm, cr
The King of Dreams Chapter 96
In the vast expanse of Morpheus’ throne room, tension wove itself into the air like an unseen specter. The Dream Lord sat in his dark throne, his fingers steepled in front of him as he listened to the voices of gods, demons, and mortals clash in debate. “We should lure it to the Wastes of Oblivion,” Lucifer proposed, his silver gaze sharp as he leaned against the edge of the great stone table conjured for their war council. “It’s a land void of power, where even gods falter. If we lead the Emptiness there, it will be weakened, making it easier to strike.” “Too risky,” Death interjected, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. “The Wastes don’t just drain power. They consume it. If we fight there, we might not get out.” Desire smirked, golden eyes gleaming. “Which, to be clear, is something we want to avoid.” They tapped a finger against the table. “Not that I don’t love a little bit of drama, but I’m not interested in being erased.” Lucifer rolled his eyes
The King of Dreams Chapter 97
The streets were alive with movement, but to Morpheus and Constantine, the waking world felt oddly hollow. People moved around them, wrapped up in their own lives, unaware of the cosmic forces walking among them. The air carried the scent of rain, though none had fallen yet, and the city buzzed with its usual blend of urgency and fatigue. Morpheus walked with an unhurried grace, his dark coat billowing slightly in the breeze. Constantine, by contrast, moved with a casual yet alert gait, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her trench coat. The Rune around her neck pulsed faintly, reacting to unseen forces that lurked just beyond their vision. “So,” Constantine began, breaking the silence between them. “What’s the plan, exactly? Just keep walkin’ around till the Emptiness decides to show up?” Morpheus did not look at her when he spoke. “It will find us.” Constantine scoffed. “Brilliant. Real solid plan there, Sunshine.” Morpheus finally turned his gaze to her. “It will be
The King of Dreams Chapter 98
The nothingness in front of them pulsed—not in a way that could be seen, but in a way that could be felt. It was there, impossibly vast, an absence that somehow loomed despite its formless nature. Constantine exhaled through her nose, shifting her stance. "I hate how quiet it is." Morpheus stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the abyss. "It is not true silence," he murmured. "It is a silence that listens." Constantine let out a low chuckle, rubbing her temple. "Great. Just what I needed. A void that eavesdrops." The Rune against her chest pulsed. It was aware of the Emptiness—reacting to it. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Morpheus finally turned his head slightly toward her. "We must make our move before it does." Constantine gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh yeah? Got a brilliant plan to deal with this cosmic nightmare?" Morpheus did not immediately answer. Instead, he observed the formless abyss, as though listening to something beyond human comp
The King of Dreams Chapter 99
Constantine felt the gut-wrenching pull of Morpheus’s magic as the Dark Hold unraveled around her. The sensation was unlike any teleportation spell she had ever experienced—smooth yet utterly disorienting, as if she had been caught in the in-between of existence and nothingness. When she landed, her boots scraped against the ground, and she immediately tensed, hands instinctively clenching into fists. The Edge of the Dreaming stretched out before her, vast and incomprehensible. This place was different from the rest of Morpheus’s domain—where the Dreaming was filled with wonder and shifting landscapes, the Edge was a realm of uncertainty. Here, reality shimmered and fractured, a thin veil between something and nothing, between creation and destruction. Then, it arrived. A chilling silence spread as the Emptiness coiled into form behind her, shifting and writhing like liquid darkness. It was not a being, not in the way demons, angels, or even gods were. It was nothingness itself,
The King of Dreams Chapter 100
The battle raged around them, but the true struggle was in the center—Constantine and the Emptiness locked in a clash of willpower. The Rune on her skin burned brighter than ever, pulsing with an unnatural light. The shadows of the Emptiness writhed, recoiling but refusing to be defeated. Morpheus stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Constantine."Constantine barely turned her head, her jaw clenched tight. "Bit busy, mate!""You must imprison it. The Rune is the key. It was meant to hold this force. You must draw it back inside."Her eyes widened with something close to fear. "What? You think I know how to do that? I don’t bloody know how!"The Emptiness thrashed harder, sensing hesitation, feeding on her doubt. The shadows it had unleashed were weakening, but if she faltered now, they would be overwhelmed. Desire, still smirking even in the midst of the chaos, leaned lazily closer, voice as smooth as silk. "It’s not about knowing, darling. It’s ab
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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.
