You feel your heavy eyelids close. When they open next, the Soulforge takes your vision to a small room.

Wooden walls with flowers growing out of them for decoration, but few personal belongings, a desk, a bed, a dresser, and a small chest on the floor.  The vision narrows onto the chest until it is all that you can see.

Hands in black studded gloves run along the lid of a living wood chest.  They pause slightly before unlatching the brass clasps.  The faun closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.  She could hear the wood of the chest sigh as she opened the lid, opening her eyes to see the contents. Inside nestled in the forest green folds of a dress, was a number of small items.  A small knife with a handle of deep red crystal, a palette with dried paint that looked like starlight, a bishop from a hand carved chess set, and many others.  Her hand settled on a piece of blue cord tied into a design.  Your vision pulls back so you can see her knelt over the chest. Her hand cautiously closed around the cord. Gingerly she lifted it out of the chest, stared at it, then put it in the pocket of her pink jacket.  The green haired faun closed the chest as she got to her feet, your vision following.  Puck turned and took two steps towards the door.  Stopped, laughed at herself, then took the cord out of her pocket and threw it back into the chest, slamming the lid shut.  

The door to the room opened suddenly, the cloak seemed to flow into the room before the man.  “I was coming to talk to you about your recent scouting, but what was that slamming noise?”  Puck smirked looking over his glasses at Puck. 

Puck smiled and put her hands in her pockets. “Oh, nothing, I was redecorating, dropped that box.  Just clumsy I guess.”

“You always were a terrible liar.  I appreciate that about you.  But if you want to go into that chest.  I think you should be doing that with a friend.”  he paused, took her hands in his, and continued. “It doesn’t have to be me, but don’t go rooting through there on your own, you don’t know how deep it goes.”

As your vision fades, a sense of loss follows you, if only for a second.~

Your vision shifts and twists until you are looking at a plain and simple clearing in the woods.

One that some of you feel is familiar. Things are quiet and calm in the clearing as a figure in a pair of Aviators and a Silver vest steps out seemingly from the darkness. As he sweeps his gaze around the clearing he pauses for a moment as his attention is drawn to a spot that doesn't seem any different then the others. 

He approaches the spot his gaze had hovered on a moment before and stops directly in front of it. With a flourish a dagger appears in his hand and he slides it seamlessly in a vertical line as if cutting the fabric of reality. Suddenly the clearing shimmers and shifts as scintillating colors dissipate and the clear sign of arcane symbols appear in the air around the clearing and turn to smoke before fading in a breeze. 

The clearing was no longer in fact an empty spot but a location in which a simple perfectly square building was standing in. The door to the building was covered in various symbols and the silver vested man ran a hand down the frame of the door. 

“It's been a long time since any of us thought we would be coming back to a location like this. Isn't that right, Soldier?” The silver vested figure turns to look at the other person who emerges into the clearing.

“Didn't think this is how I would meet you again Law. Guess we should see what the Scholar kept safe for us after all these years.”

“Well then let's make it a party of three..” Another voice echoes out as they both turn to look.

“Been a long time Harmony….”~

Darkness swells and blankets your gaze before pinpricks of light erupt before your eyes.

Shifting through the deep void of space, the dotting of stars and spaceships cruising the horizon fill your vision, settling on a large station orbiting a small moon. As it rotates around slowly, the symbol of Galactipol is stretched across the siding, and the golden shimmer of the broken icy planet lies scattered in the background. Your flash through into the station, its cleaned hallways echoing with a pair of footsteps from figures you cannot see. A small door sits ahead of you, opening up to reveal several beings sitting in chairs looking out a window towards the icy planet below. 

“Ah, there you are! I was starting to think you got lost.” One of the beings, a Terran, exclaims. They rotate in their seat and lean forward towards the approaching figure, handing them a cup with steam still pouring over the top. 

“Yes, yes. This dranging station is far too complex, but I know my way to a chow hall anywhere I go.” The other figure, a Tau Ceti, replies. They turn to their right and take a few steps before the other being in the room, a large humanoid resembling a bat-like creature, turns to acknowledge them. 

“Thank you. I’ve been awake for almost 37 cycles, this will give me the umph I need to finish out the shift.” They reply. 

“37 cycles? Come on, that stuff..” the Tau Ceti gestures towards the window screen and at the large chunks of broken planet. The golden reflection of light from the station mixes with flashes of large machinery at work, pulsing in a steady rhythm like a heartbeat from the icy moon below. “Can’t possibly be that important to watch over, can it? I know the brass seems dead set on mining that stuff but, for what, I couldn’t tell you.” 

The Terran and the bat-like creature look towards each other for a moment in pause, then the Terran speaks up. 

“Rumor on the spaceway is, that stuff is not natural. Super rare and not known by most of the ‘verse these days. Something about this group called “Dreamwalkers” and their attempts at ruling the worlds, some crazy stuff. Don’t know too much about it myself but whatever it is, they sure are sparing no expense to collect it as fast as possible.” The Tau Ceti sighs for a second and scratches the side of their head. “I guess so man. This stuff is way over my…”

The door behind them suddenly slides open. The three Galactipool members turn to see who would be entering the area. The Terran quickly stands up and goes to reach for their blaster. “Hey, who the hell-”. The sound of crackling thunder fills your ears and the room flashes as a bluish green light bolts past. The Terran is no more as the light fades, their loosely gripped blaster clattering to the floor. Before their Tau Ceti coworker can even react to their friend's demise, a dark blur of a figure stands before them and with a series of strikes so fast you can barely parse out what is happening, the Tau Ceti drops to the floor in a wet slump. 

The bat-like creature stays seated, their hands raised and the webbing to their wing-like forearms stretched out, revealing that they hold no weapons. “Pl…please. Please, do not kill me. I..I’m just on guard duty. I won’t say anything. Please.” Their voice is faint and wispy, their cries for mercy strained between short breaths. A hand falls on their shoulder before the shadowy figure that struck down the Tau Ceti replies. 

“Oh, we know. We just…do not need any distractions from our mission. You must understand that, yes?” The face of Miranda comes into view before another bolt of bluish green light fills your vision and the bat-like being is no more. “Ah, Pauper Knight! I told you before, not while I’m close to your target.” she sighs for a moment, brushing off what looks like dust from her outfit. “I need not remind you that if I should suddenly disintegrate while in your company, He who Would be Free would ensure your mutual demise as well.” She cut with her tone. Another figure stepped into view, a tall figure wearing armor, shiny black under a tattered white cloak, and stood before the window and stared out towards the broken planet. “It came this way. We are close.” the voice echoed from beneath the helm. 

“Well, that much I could have told you. What else makes such a mess of this caliber? I do not need to be from this realm to know that something like this does not happen.” Miranda continued, her gaze more fixated on the various screens and switches on the control panel where the Galactipol agents once worked. “Perhaps we will get more information from one of these machines? I was never that great with my walkman, but maybe I can-” 

The figure in armor, this one called Pauper Knight, suddenly flinches. They quickly rotated their helm and stared towards the wall of the room they stood in. Their gaze did not shift, but you get the feeling that they are staring through the wall and not at it. “Miranda. We have something else to hunt.” They exclaimed before they took off in a hurried march towards the door. 

“Hey, hey wait! What is the meaning of this? We are to track down the primordial, and you were sure it was not in the realm any longer! What else could possibly be more important than that?” Miranda questioned as she tried to rush after him. The Pauper Knight stopped then turned to Miranda.

​ “A greater asset to the Nightmare King. There is a Soul Forge here.”~

Bang, bang ba-

You hear the sound of porcelain being smashed. A scream pierces the silence, more desperate than loud, but shows no sign of stopping.

As you look around to see where the sound came from your eyes rest on a long abandoned gold and white clay bottle. Your perception slows as it focuses on the bird head before it all comes to a halt. Slowly the vision starts to rewind. You watch as pieces start to knit themselves back together as the screams play in reverse. The sounds of porcelain pulling together and oddly punctuated bangs echo through your head. Before you a gold and white canopic jar sits undisturbed on a pedestal, the bird head on its lid glistening in the harsh light shining on it. Your perception pulls out from the chamber and through a protective wall showing what could be best described as a manufacturing plant churning out cloudnet robots. The hiss of pistons and crunch of metal filling your senses.

As you pull further back you see a larger cloudnet facility. Robots moving directly from the assembly line out to the surrounding wall. Sentry towers humming with electricity fire percussive bursts of gunfire off beyond the walls. Alarms quickly join the cacophony of sound as red pulsing lights create what could be mistaken for still frames of action as the cloudnet forces mobilize.

Suddenly a large crashing sound drowns out all other noise as your focus abruptly turns to the Southern wall. A massive nightmare beast has burst through the defenses. As all cloudnet guns turn to the creature smaller husks proceed to flood the area, ripping and tearing down defenses as they go.

Your vision pulls in closer. You see the manufacturing building get swarmed by the creatures.

Your vision moves back inside. All you see is the canopic jar. You hear the nightmares just outside.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A chunk of the ceiling falls directly on the jar, shattering it in the process.

A woman in a flowing gold dress rises from the broken shards of the jar. Stretching her form for the first in decades. Attempting to take advantage of the woman's distracted state a husk falls from the ceiling, but it is quickly cut in half by a wall that seemingly formed out of nothing. As the wall disintegrates into symbols and sigils more nightmares pour in. 

The never ending swarms of the Nightmare King break over and over again on the creations of this golden woman. As the remains of the cloudnet forces are ground under foot the battle rages on. While the golden woman is able to hold off the assault she has nothing that can stem the tide of nightmares. A cut here, a hit there. Eventually the sheer numbers wear her down. Lost under a writhing mass of nightmares the golden woman loses her form. The carefully crafted body breaks down into smaller and smaller parts as the nightmares tear at it. Unfortunately as the body loses cohesion so does the landmass. The unformed dreaming floods in, washing away anything that cloudnet may have built. 

As nightmare forces dissipate into the unformed dreaming your focus is pulled towards a small collection of golden gems. You watch as these remains float on miniature pieces of metaphysical high ground to the shores of an island. The golden gems are eventually found and fitted into a black crown. As the crown is lowered onto a young man's head you begin to hear faint desperate screaming echo at the corners of your perception.~

The high pitched sound of an alarm echoes through the room as a figure paces back and forth.

He looks between large crystals, images rapidly changing in the reflections.

“Where are you hiding…”

The alarms go silent for a moment, as he closes his eyes. They would start again soon, the alarms had been consistent ever since the incursion was detected. For now though he would take advantage of a moment of peace and quiet to try to focus. He just needed time to think, to focus. His thoughts were interrupted by another alarm, this one much louder.

“What in the…”

He looked around, as several crystals turned red, and dust began to fall as the ground and stone walls began to shake. His eyes widened as he stared into one of the crystals before he turned, hurrying off towards one of the hallways, the large crystal chamber left behind.

“Regulus! We have a problem!”~

The vision goes dark and the sound of mechanical ticking stirs in the silence.

….tick…..tok…….tick…..tok……..

An ornately dressed deer-like Automata stormed down a modest hallway, hoofs thundering on the burnished copper and gold inlaid floor, with a newspaper crumpled in one hand. It approached a tall set of metal plated doors, inlaid with cogs and gears of varying shapes, all moving in time with one another in perfect harmony. Two Automata stepped out of the walls next to the doors and saluted the deer-like Automata before opening the doors. 

The deer was assaulted by a cacophony of voices yelling over each other in arguments about war plans and new strategies for defensive maneuvers. The deer-like Automata looked out at the Assembled Chancellors of The Clockwork City. a variety of different Automata gathered around a large half-moon table and all of them standing, yelling their different theories and conspiracies at one another. The voices died down as they were joined by the last of their missing number.

“Chancellor Aldrich, you’re late! You better have a good excuse as to why you did not join the Assembly on time!” A boar-like Automata bellowed from the long table. The other Chancellors began whispering low enough that Aldrich could not hear them.

“Apologies fellow Chancellors, I was doing my own investigation into this newest accusation of one of the servants conspiring with Vectors.” Aldrich tried to say in a calm and neutral tone but his temper almost got the better of him. “This is the tenth accusation of Vector activity in the Clockwork City this month, and all of the evidence provided leads to a burst ,steam pipe in the kitchens and not a larger conspiracy.” Chancellor Aldrich walked towards the table and sat down.

The other Chancellors stilled for a moment, watching Aldrich sit, before launching into another argument, this time accusing each other of false reports, and how they could have sworn they saw a Vector roaming the halls. Aldrich sighed, none of them had ever actually seen a Vector, none of them knew what one looked like. 

Hopefully this bout of argument would end before the General arrived later in the meeting, but for now, he let the other Chancellors throw their conspiracies around as he listened to the heartbeat of the city.

….tick…..tok…….tick…..tok……..~

A storm screeches around you as thunder rumbles and lightning clashes.

The giant stood a dozen stories above them, wheezing with the wind.

On its nose sat four spinning propeller beams, their length enhanced and dilapidation covered by slats of mismatched metal and wood. The towering structure groaned overhead while the glistening tips of its patchwork metal blades reflected back the harsh yellow strike of lightning as the grey clouds swirled above.

A man with short-clipped hair ignored the muffled chatter around him and adjusted his armor as he awaited his orders. He shielded his face against the rain with a gloved hand and surreptitiously dug the toe of his boot into the waterlogged earth beneath his feet, sensing the dirt give way against the intruding digit. It was nothing like the scrubbed steel floors and pale blue light he’d spent his life around. Though technology made any dream a reality, it lacked the vibrant, spicy scent of dirt and mud, the feeling of cold wind buffeting against his face, and the bloated weight of the clouds swirling overhead in the distant sky above.

His parents named him Hiroyuki, to bless him with space and fortune, two prized possessions for a child coming up in the cramped neighborhoods of the Hundreds. His surname, Sato, promised him an abundance of wisdom and insight. Yet when he drew from the well of his mind, the sights and sounds of the outside world left him reeling.

No sims, no amount of training, could prepare him for this. The lumbering beast of an obelisk heaved with a pained noise as three members of Sato’s troop cut down one of the many wooden supports that surrounded the structure. The tower tilted, the wind howling as if in rage, before the building eased itself into place with a sigh as though climbing to arthritic feet.

It was a long-running joke that Hiroyuki dreamed of being a hero. He’d been scouted early on as a Tajan, tested and put through training to unleash his supposed Dreamwalker potential. He was told from a young age that he had the potential to be a hero and was promised a world where he would realize his true power and save, not just his realm, but every realm.

The sims showed him a world drenched in color and brimming with life, a place where he was recognized as the carrier of a great and powerful purpose. He fought masked enemies, saved princesses, reunited families as their digital voices showered him with praise.

9 months into training, it was discovered that there was an error in the calculations. Sato was declared not a Tajan, and he was released from the program.

“Why aren’t we just going through the door?” one of his platoon members hissed too loudly to be ignored over the wail of the storm.

“It’s a deathtrap if we go in there without securing the outside,” another murmured as the wind stole her words from the air.

“They’re gonna knock that thing over before we manage to get inside.”

The tremendous building grunted overhead as its blades cut through the air, spinning faster as though something had been shaken loose inside.

His parents fought to pull him free from this despair. At 9 years old, the only comfort Sato could find was by getting lost in sims where he was the hero who saved the day. His parents struggled to keep a roof overhead and food on their plates, but they pinched every penny to make sure their boy had the escape he needed from their quiet, colorless existence.

Sato’s gaze settled on the patch on his teammate’s shoulder, the “X-999” emblazoned on it in glowing numerics. As an adult, he traded dreams of heroics for a promise: a chance at entering the Continuum to get lost in the fantasy full-time. The money he earned went back to the parents that loved and cared for him, offering them reprieve from the bills that threatened to make his loving caretakers into Zeroes. The money gave them a better life than they’d ever known, as Sato sat in his barren apartment and watched tri-films during his very limited time off, all while imagining a future without limits.

“We’re sending the first team in now,” barked the lieutenant  as Sato straightened his posture and moved into position. “We don’t know what to expect in there, so move together, move quietly, and move quickly.”

Sato took in a deep breath against the spatter of rain hitting his face and imagined himself as the sword-swinging hero of the sims.

“GO! MOVE! MOVE!”

They moved as one unit, boots stomping through sticky, soaked dirt as they made their way into the gaping mouth of the structure. Red beams of light cut through the walls in every direction. A sound like an explosion sent waves of pain through his right ear, hot fire licking at his face as smoke filled the air. 

The footfalls became disjointed, shouts echoing around them as a fist slammed hard into his jaw. Sato’s hands met the slick wooden floorboards and he peered through the smoke as he felt the floor give way.

Screams echoed through the chamber as the platoon fell several stories below. Then the floor rose back up on its hinges and clicked into place. All was quiet and still.~

The ground settles beneath your feet once more as a sensation ushers you onwards.

​You find yourself moving through the streets of the God of Machine's town. Between the visions and the visitors a number of you have become quite familiar with the streets of Larnwick. The hum of engines and electricity seem to permeate the air. Smiling faces seem to go about their daily lives. You see The God of Machines, Michael, talking to a few merchants in the square. You simultaneously see him reviewing designs for a new facade on a building. There are also a pair of him performing some routine maintenance on some of the streetlights. As you grow more accustomed to the scene you notice that almost a quarter of the people you can see are Michael.

As if by some silent command all of the Michaels seem to stop. One steps out into the square of the town and claps his hands together, activating what looks like an extraction beacon. One by one the Michaels move through the open portal. Your vision follows them through.

As your eyes adjust to your new surroundings you find yourself in a small clearing on the Hope. Many of the Michaels have already started to spread out around the Hope, but more still seem to enter the clearing through the gate. After a time a final Michael crosses the portal's threshold and it closes behind him. The amassed Michaels then silently part ways and begin to fan out across the Hope.~

"Someone's in for an... interesting time."

Sedia frowned at the card spread before her.

The Outlaw.

A dagger strapped to a boot - someone who had forged their own path regardless of the cost.

Love Reversed.

A heart falling from outstretched hands - broken bonds. A choice that must be made to restore the relationship.

The Warrior.

A mighty sword - stubborn, ram-headed energy. Someone who was unlikely to give up.

When those forces finally met…well. Not the kind of place she had any intention of sticking around in, thank you very much. Too volatile for her tastes, but it wasn’t without hope. The right outside influence might be able to tip the scales in a more favorable direction.

As she started shuffling the cards back into her deck the lights flickered. Sedia got up and made a move to check the lamp she was using, but was stopped by a soft electrical hum from outside her window. Before she could process the new sound there was a flash of blue light punctuated by an intense zapping sound. This flash happened 4 more times as Sedia moved to cover. Ducking behind a large sideboard she heard a large crack, almost like a gunshot. The lights immediately went out and the Hope fell silent for a few seconds. Slowly red lights snapped on one at a time across the island as an announcement rang out.

"Attention. Primary power has been lost. Secondary power generation active. Please remain calm, help will be on its way shortly."
​
Sedia came out from behind her cover and began gathering up her deck to move to safety. As you feel the pull of the forge finally connecting you to the dreaming your vision fills with the red warning lights of the Hope.