Lord of Mysteries: The Dream That Waits

The dreamscape trembled.

It was not the usual, fluid distortion of a dream shifting form. This was something deeper—something fundamental unraveling.

Yeaia Nolas felt it before they saw it. The sensation was like waking up just before falling asleep—a moment of disorientation where reality and dreams overlapped, neither one fully taking hold.

Their mismatched eyes—one burning red, the other shimmering silver—glowed as they scanned their surroundings. The Slumbering Realm had always been a place of uncertainty, a world where imagination shaped existence.

But now…

Something was stepping through.

Klein Moretti stood across from them, his presence both familiar and unnerving. The way he existed here, in a realm that should have rejected him, was an impossibility.

Yeaia spoke first. "Reality is leaking into the dream… or is it the other way around?"

Klein exhaled slowly. "Both."

A deep hum reverberated through the dreamscape. Shapes flickered at the edges of perception—shadows that stretched unnaturally, figures that formed and collapsed in the span of a breath.

The Slumbering Realm was waking up.

But it wasn't just waking up.

It was aware.

Yeaia's grip tightened. The air around them blurred, the distinction between form and thought dissolving. They had spent so much time drifting between wakefulness and sleep that it should have felt natural.

But this…

This felt like something else's dream.

Something was watching.

Something was reaching.

And something was about to step through.

---

A Sudden Awakening

In the real world—if it could still be called that—Leonard Mitchell's eyes snapped open in the darkness.

He lay still for a moment, his heartbeat steady despite the sudden alertness in his mind. Shadows curled unnaturally at the edges of the room, moving even though there was no wind, no light to cast them.

His breath came slow, measured.

Something was wrong.

His connection to Evernight stirred. The whispers of darkness, the silent knowledge hidden in the stillness of the world, whispered to him of something shifting beyond the veil of reality.

Leonard turned his head slightly. Across the dimly lit room, Daly Simone sat at her desk, still awake, a candle burning beside her as she flipped through documents. She was deeply focused, not noticing his sudden awakening.

That was good.

If she hadn't noticed, then whatever was wrong hadn't reached here yet.

But Leonard could feel it—like a presence pressing against the edge of perception, something seeping into reality.

A quiet voice echoed in his mind.

"The Fool is missing."

Pallez Zoroast. The ancient angel residing in Leonard's body rarely spoke so directly.

Leonard's fingers twitched slightly, but he didn't move otherwise. He had suspected something was off ever since Klein's apotheosis. The Fool had risen to godhood, but his presence felt… scattered, as if he was both here and not.

And now, something else was stirring.

Leonard exhaled quietly.

Whatever was happening, it had begun.

---

The Tarot Club's Endless Gathering

Beyond the material world, in the gray fog of the Tarot Club, a meeting was taking place.

Or rather, it was pretending to.

The Fool's seat remained empty.

Yet, the gathering continued.

Audrey Hall—Miss Justice—spoke with her usual grace, as if Klein had been there the entire time. The other members responded, discussed, and shared information. The meeting was unfolding as it always had.

But something was wrong.

If one were to truly look, they would see it.

The conversations were too fluid. The transitions too smooth. There were no pauses, no moments of hesitation, no unexpected interruptions.

It was like a memory being replayed rather than a true meeting.

They were trapped.

And none of them had noticed.

---

The Rift

Back in the Slumbering Realm, Yeaia and Klein stood on shifting ground, the dreamscape cracking at its very core.

And then—

Something stepped through.

It was not a creature, nor a person. It was a concept made manifest—a being that had only ever existed in the unspoken spaces between wakefulness and sleep.

It did not have a face, yet Yeaia recognized it. It did not have a voice, yet they understood it.

It was the first nightmare.

The first dream forgotten.

The first story that was never told.

And it was waking up.

Klein narrowed his eyes. "Yeaia."

For the first time in centuries, Yeaia Nolas felt awake.

The dream was breaking.

And something was about to begin.

---

End of Chapter 48

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