But this sleep lasted only a breath in eternity.
Barely thirty minutes had passed when Nolan's mind was seized by a strange dream, as real as the world he had just left. He was standing in a forest, plunged into total darkness, where neither moon nor stars filtered through the trees. The air was frozen. No sound, no whisper of wind, no animal moan. It was an absolute silence, heavy, almost alive.
The trees, twisted and gnarled, seemed to close in around him with every step. Moss covered everything, the trunks, the stones, as if time itself had stopped here centuries ago. Nolan moved slowly forward, his senses alert, his breath short. He didn't know what he was looking for, but a strange force was pulling him forward.
And suddenly, in this sea of shadows, he saw her.
An old cabin, half-eaten by nature, its rotten wood oozing moisture, and its collapsed roof letting roots grow through the walls. It seemed... out of place, as if it didn't belong in this forest, as if it had crashed into it from another world.
A shiver ran down Nolan's spine. There was no light, no life around this cabin. And yet, he felt... a presence. Something, or someone, was waiting for him there.
With a quick glance, Nolan spotted a furtive shadow slipping between the trees. Instinctively, he turned, muscles tense, heart pounding. But behind him... nothing. Emptiness. Silence. Just blackness, motionless, almost mocking. Doubt crept into his mind—dream or reality? Illusion or omen?
He took a deep breath, firmed his posture, and continued forward, his footsteps echoing faintly on the damp ground. Arriving in front of the cabin, he placed his hand on the old, rusty handle, icy to the touch. A dull creak accompanied the opening of the door, as if it hadn't moved in centuries.
But what he discovered inside was anything but ordinary.
A long, disproportionately long corridor stretched before him. The walls were made of dark, almost black wood, but no natural grain ran through them. It was black... living, deep, undulating slightly, as if darkness were breathing through the walls. The ceiling seemed absent, replaced by a misty void. As for the floor, it absorbed the light instead of reflecting it.
It was as if the cabin were merely a facade, a mere portal to another world. A world without logic, without light. A world that had been waiting for Nolan all his life. And in that absolute strangeness, a familiar sensation struck him: this place knew him. This place... was calling him.
As Nolan crossed the threshold of the cabin and cautiously advanced down the corridor, he passed a small, dusty window embedded in the wood. Behind it, lurking in the shadows, a shadowy figure watched him. Two eyes, burning like embers, pierced the glass, vibrating with hatred or curiosity. Yet, Nolan noticed nothing. His gaze slid over the window without lingering, his instincts not yet having detected the strangeness lurking in the shadows.
The silence was still absolute. Only the sound of his muffled footsteps echoed through the endless corridor.
Worried, Nolan reached out and tried to summon a flame, even just a glimmer of light. He focused his energy, expecting the familiar thrill of magic coursing through his veins.
But nothing came.
No spark. No warmth. Nothing. As if his magic had been stifled, eradicated, denied by the place itself.
A feeling of dread slowly crept up his spine, icy. He opened his hands several times to cast spells, even basic ones. Still nothing. It was as if this world, this dream—or nightmare—mocked his powers. As if here, Nolan was nothing more than an ordinary, vulnerable being.
He swallowed, clenching his fists reflexively. The corridor still called to him, urging him forward despite his fear. The feeling of being watched never left him. Something was following him. Something silent... and ancient.
Suddenly, without the slightest warning, the ground beneath his feet disappeared.
The colors of the world dissolved at once—no more wood, no more walls, no more light, no more shadow, nothing. Everything vanished.
And Nolan found himself in freefall.
He was falling. Falling endlessly into absolute nothingness, a void so deep that you lost all sense of up or down. No surface, no point of reference, not even the slightest breath of air. He felt only the weight of his own body falling, falling again, as if pulled toward some nameless destination.
His arms tried to grasp something, but there was nothing. Nothing to hold on to. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. It was as if the entire world had collapsed, leaving only him, abandoned to the abyss.
But what chilled Nolan wasn't the fall itself... it was what he felt.
A look.
Something—or someone—was watching him from the depths of nothingness. A presence so oppressive, so monstrous, that he didn't even dare turn his head.
And yet, deep down, he knew. This dream wasn't just a dream. It was a warning.
Or perhaps... a call.
His body violently hit a hard surface. The impact was brutal, but he didn't die. He was alive.
Breathless, his muscles tense, Nolan slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a black platform, smooth as glass, suspended in an infinite void. No edge, no barrier. A simple flat expanse, lost in the middle of nothingness.
He slowly sat up, holding his head, still dizzy from the fall, and scanned his surroundings.
No stars. No direction.
Just... this platform, and the void.
His heartbeat resonated in his chest, as if the silence around him amplified each pulse.
Then, in a hoarse, confused, and annoyed voice, he whispered:
"But the fuck... where am I?"
Its echo resonated strangely, as if the words were distorted in space, muffled by an invisible force.
And that's when he felt something... not a wind, not a noise, but a vibration. As if something immense was approaching.
The air grew heavier. The void, previously silent, vibrated with an ancient, almost divine presence. Nolan, standing on the structure, felt a cold sweat slide down his back, his hands clammy, his breath shortened.
Before him, emerging from the void, a colossal form took shape like a tangible mirage. It was a creature with the air of legend—a gigantic, humanoid bird, its body enveloped in a dark, dense fur, almost liquid, like frozen mist. Its long golden beak gleamed faintly in the void, and its deep, unfathomable black eyes stared at Nolan with an almost unbearable intensity.
The tension was almost unbearable. Despite the absolute silence, Nolan felt every beat of his heart echo in this strange void, as if his mere existence were inconvenient in this place. The creature, massive and enigmatic, remained frozen in this haunting posture, its eyes still fixed on him, implacable, cold, almost... divine.
Every time Nolan moved, even a step or a simple movement of his head, the creature's abysmal pupils followed, perfectly synchronized, as if reading every intention before he even carried it out. He felt as if he were being dissected by a gaze that didn't judge, but observed... mercilessly.
Yet a nonexistent wind seemed to freeze the air. There was neither sky nor ground, just the platform Nolan stood on, and the endless nothingness that encompassed everything. No sound, no landmarks, nothing human.
Nolan clenched his fists.
And the creature... continued to watch.
Motionless.
Silent.
Omniscient.
Nolan stood before the creature at the end of the floating structure. He stared at it intensely, arms outstretched, challenging the stranger before him. Suddenly, the creature's pitch-black eyes ignited with an intense light, burning with an unreal heat. The entire place trembled under the power of this light, as if reality itself were wavering.
A shudder ran through the ground, and before Nolan could react, a gigantic hand, black and made of flame, emerged from the darkness, rising with unimaginable force. In an instant, it slammed down on the floating structure with a terrifying crash, shattering it into thousands of pieces, causing it to vibrate and decompose from the force of the impact.
The creature's inhuman laughter echoed through the void, a sound that pierced Nolan's distorted mind like an echo of a thousand agonies. It was a laugh that came not from a living being, but from an infinite and malevolent entity, intent on shattering everything that existed.
As the structure shattered around him, Nolan felt his body being swallowed up by shadow, the light of the strange creature still present in his eyes. And just as everything seemed to disintegrate, everything went out.
Suddenly, he awoke, gasping, in the complete silence of his room. The rain still pounded against the windows.
The rain continued to hammer the windows, but the storm seemed to be dissipating little by little, giving way to a relative calm. The violence of the storm was receding, the wind was now blowing less strongly, as if it were slowly retreating to a distant corner of the horizon. Nolan, suddenly awakened, immediately threw back the sheets. His heart was still pounding, a strange sensation weighing on his chest, as if the echo of the dream lingered in the air.
He stood for a moment, wide-eyed, staring at the dying glow of the storm through the window, wondering what he had just experienced. This dream… or was it something else? The creature, the flames, the enormous hand smashing everything in its path. A shiver ran down his spine. A dream this realistic, this intense, it could only be a figment of his mind… right? Yet something inside him whispered that it wasn't that simple. The way the creature had watched him, its abyss-black eyes, that sense of menace... it all seemed too real, too strange to be simply an illusion of his sleep.
Nolan stood up slowly, scanning the dark, quiet room around him, the air heavy with the humidity still lingering. His palms were clammy, his mind foggy. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to chase away the images from the dream. But they persisted, lurking in the recesses of his mind. Who was this creature? Why had it wanted to see him, to test him? He had no answers.
Shaking his head, trying to free himself from the oppressive sensation, Nolan walked to the window, watching the remnants of the storm. He took a deep breath, trying to bring some calm to his thoughts. But one question lingered in his mind, tirelessly: was this dream really a dream, or was it a sign of something else, a warning?
The calm that followed the storm was short-lived for Nolan. He stood there by the window, watching the rain slowly subside, but his thoughts were gripped by an inner turmoil that never left him. This dream, or rather this nightmare, seemed unreal and at the same time strangely tangible, like a vision forcing its way into his consciousness, a premonition he couldn't ignore.
The absurdity of the dream, this distorted world, this mysterious creature with its burning eyes and its giant hand that smashed everything in its path, seemed straight out of the imagination. Yet, Nolan had the impression that this dream carried a message, that it concealed something deeper than a simple figment of his restless mind. He felt pressed, as if the shadow of what he had seen would not leave him alone, as if this being was waiting for him in the shadows, ready to emerge again. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping across the room, but his mind remained anchored to the vision that had taken root in his heart, in his soul. The creature... was it real? Was it some kind of premonition, a warning of impending danger? Or was it just an illusion, a madness of his mind, weary of the loneliness and uncertainty of his life? Each possibility seemed as plausible as the other, and that disturbed him all the more.
He sat on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped in his lap, his gaze fixed on the void. He wished he could forget everything, shake off this dream, but he couldn't. Deep down, a growing certainty grew: he couldn't ignore what he had seen. Something bigger, more dangerous, lurked behind this nightmare. And although his logic dictated that he dismiss it as a mere figment of his imagination, he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't that simple.
He stood up, determined to face what lay ahead. Whatever the hidden meaning behind this dream, he had to know more.
Nolan stood up slowly, his feet touching the cold bedroom floor as his thoughts still swirled around the dream he'd just had. Wordlessly, he walked to the window. The smell of rain lingered in the air, but the sky, now clear, seemed to be calming. He cautiously opened the window, letting the cool night wind in, then slipped outside.
He climbed onto the roof, feeling the coolness of the damp metal beneath his bare feet. The rain had stopped, but the roof remained wet, covered in a thin layer of water that glistened in the first light of a calm night. He sat down, then lay back, closing his eyes for a moment to let the damp feel soak into his skin. The wet roof was cold, but in a strange way, it brought him a kind of comfort. He listened to the gentle music of the wind caressing the distant trees and the last echoes of raindrops falling from the neighboring roofs.
Looking up, Nolan watched the stars begin to appear, bright and peaceful in a now clear sky. The sight of that cloudless sky, a deep black dotted with thousands of points of light, calmed him. It seemed far from the torments of reality, like a parallel world where he could simply be, far from doubts and worries.
A long sigh escaped his lips. The dream, this strange foreboding, haunted him, but there, lying on that roof, an unexpected peace took hold of him. He let the silence of the night envelop him, hoping that, perhaps, the answers would come in time. But for now, he was content to look at the stars and lose himself in the immensity of the night sky.
Lying on the roof, his eyes fixed on the vastness of the sky, Nolan was carried away by a flood of distant thoughts. The darkness of the night seemed to offer him a refuge to lose himself in his memories, but among them, one in particular haunted him. The night he had gained his powers, the night everything had changed.
He still remembered the entity, an imposing, almost indescribable figure that had appeared to him in a space between worlds, neither quite real nor quite a dream. The voice, deep and powerful, still echoed in his mind, telling him of an implacable threat, an imminent danger, a destiny he could not escape. "The world is in peril," it had told him. "And you, Nolan, are bound to its salvation... or its destruction."
The entity's words had shaken him. How could he, a mere young man, be tied to something so vast and terrifying? The prospect of having to play a role in this grand scheme only reminded him of his own insignificance in a world so vast, so complex. And yet, his powers, these abilities he had gained that night, were there, permanent, forcing him to participate in what he didn't understand.
But deep down, Nolan felt another desire, more intimate, more human. He simply wanted to live a peaceful life. He dreamed of simple days, of routines without surprises, where he could choose his own battles, choose his own fights. Live at his own pace, in tranquility, without being constantly besieged by invisible forces, by threats he hadn't asked for.
A sigh escaped his lips. He had this strange feeling that the prophecy, this burden he carried despite himself, prevented him from living according to his own desires. He had never wanted to be a hero. He had never wanted to be the one carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. And yet, every day, he found himself more entangled in this destiny he hadn't chosen.
Yet the tranquility he felt there, on this rooftop, reminded him that life could be simple. That there were times when he could forget all that. But every time he thought he'd found that peace, something would come back to haunt him, pulling him back to reality.
The wind blew gently, and Nolan closed his eyes, trying to push away these tormented thoughts. Perhaps one day, he would find a way to reconcile his desire for peace with this destiny to which he was bound. But in the meantime, he wanted nothing more than to savor this moment of tranquility. A moment where he was neither a chosen one nor a savior, just a man.
Nolan slowly opened his eyes, the rising sun illuminating his face with a soft, warm light. The rays pierced through the gaps in the roof, casting golden shards that danced across the ground. The sound of hurried footsteps rose from below, followed by the joyful, insistent cries of children running through the streets.
"Sir, wake up, it's morning!"
Their crystal-clear, lifelike voices pierced the early morning silence, their insistence filling the air with renewed energy. It was a deeply rooted routine in the community: at dawn, everyone rose without delay, ready to begin a new day. They had a kind of discipline, an urgency to begin their work, to prepare themselves for the hours that followed. The day seemed to begin as soon as the sun rose, and no one escaped this frenetic pace.
Nolan sat up slowly, a little disconcerted by the abrupt transition between his sleep and this morning's reality. He barely remembered his strange dream, his mind still foggy, but he knew he had to get back on his feet quickly. The children were still shouting from outside, their enthusiasm unwavering, as if they had no other concerns than helping everyone start the day.
With a weary but habitual movement, Nolan stood up, mentally extinguishing the remnants of his sleep. He stretched slowly, watching the light filter through the windows for a moment, before realizing it was already much later than he thought. A sigh escaped his lips, but he forced himself to climb out of the roof and into the house.
The day awaited him.