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I could feel the weight of the challenge ahead, the course seeming to taunt me with its complexity.
“This,” Tix began, his voice filled with a teacher’s patience, “is where we begin. Each section is designed to test, push, and to prepare you. Our escape won’t just involve navigating Uhah’s mind but also the very real physical challenges that lie ahead.”
I nodded, determination flooding my veins. “Let’s get started.”
Tix grinned, his teeth gleaming white against the backdrop of the dreamworld. “That’s the spirit. Now, follow me.”
And as I took a step forward, ready to tackle whatever the dreamworld threw my way, I felt a profound sense of purpose.
I was ready to train, to learn, and, most importantly, to escape.
* * *
Tix stood at the entrance of the assault course, a creation from his mind that seemed as tangible as the world outside.
His posture was that of a seasoned instructor, ready to mentor his student.
“The dreamworld can be a malleable place, Grace,” Tix began, his voice echoing with authority. “You need to be familiar with how it behaves, how to bend it to your will, and most importantly, how to prevent it from breaking you. This assault course is your initiation.”
The soft touch of dreamworld mist kissed my skin, leaving a chilly residue.
Walking up to the first section, Tix explained, “First, you need to understand how to transform the world around you.”
With a wave of his hand, the environment began to shift.
The walls of the maze became translucent, and the suspended platforms over the chasm changed into stepping stones on a serene lake.
“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he continued, his fingers curling as if holding onto a string. “This world resists change, fights against it. You have to not only command it but also negotiate with it.”
As he said this, the maze’s walls started pulsating, and the lake’s water rumbled, causing the stepping stones to shake.
I took a deep breath, feeling the challenge weighing on me.
“Okay,” I began, my voice quivering, “let me try.”
Focusing on the maze, I willed the walls to move.
For a moment, I felt a pushback, like trying to mold clay that’s too hard.
Then, slowly, with all the mental strength I could muster, the walls began to shift.
It was as if I was wrestling with the very fabric of the dream.
However, the strain was immense.
The more I forced the dreamworld to comply, the harder it fought back.
Every change I made was met with resistance, and within moments, the scene before me snapped back to its original state.
The soft whisper of the maze walls shifting, the almost silent hum of the platforms — all returned to their initial forms, defying my attempt to dominate them.
Panting, I turned to Tix, frustration evident in my eyes. “Why can’t I maintain the changes?”
Tix approached, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
His touch was warm, grounding me amidst the chaos of the ever-shifting dreamworld. “It’s not just about forcing change, Grace. You have to find a balance. If you push too hard, the dream rebels, and everything reverts. If you alter it too drastically, the dreamer senses something’s off, which can lead to the dreamer waking up. It’s a delicate dance.”
I nodded, taking in his words. “So, it’s not just about power but also finesse.”
