Page 42 of Presence

“Sure, I could,” he replies. “But I only know what you remember. Now, I want you to relive everything. Maybe there’s something you missed. Talk me through it. Refresh your memories.”

I roll my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, understanding his point even if I don’t want to admit it. I take a deep breath, my thoughts shrouded by the cool mist of the cloud like a veil.

“Okay,” I say, steeling myself. “Makes sense. But I don’t even know where to start because all my thoughts are jumbled.”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” he says, casually propping his leg up on the cloud. He looks like he stepped right out of a Renaissance painting, especially with the sunlight hitting him just right. “From the very first moment you felt something was off. We’ll figure it out, step by step.”

I nod, taking a moment to gather my thoughts.

“Honestly, it started out painfully normal. I thought I was awake,” I confess, remembering everything that happened after the last time I saw him. “I didn’t know you had pushed me out of the dreamscape. I just thought I had woken up from a beautiful dream that turned into a nightmare. Little did I know, I had just jumped into yet another dream that was too damn realistic to start with.”

Echo’s expression flickers subtly, the sun casting shadows that dance across his features, giving him that otherworldly look.

“You didn’t have any doubts?”

I purse my lips.

“I mean... I felt off, but at first, there was nothing specific, so I just ignored it. You know, I often feel weird. Real life isn’t like it is here. Out there, I’m a complete mess. I can’t tell what’s strange and what’s normal. It’s like... everything’s strange, if that makes sense.”

He leans forward, his gaze sharp with interest—or is it something else? “And how did that strange feeling manifest this time?”

“It was the way I remembered feelings from here, the dreamscape. It’s like it wasn’t me who felt them, but I was merely a spectator. All happiness seemed so bleak, so faint, as if it had been sucked out of me. And then, slowly, all I could clearly feel was fear.”

Echo’s brow creases slightly, and he nods slowly, as if absorbing every word, weighing it. “Go on,” he prompts.

“I kept jumping at every sound. Sometimes, it was just the noise I made that sent chills down my spine. Other times, it was the people,” I continue, the unease I felt then slowly creeping back. “That time in the store was the worst. The people looked normal, but their eyes... their eyes were empty, soulless. They moved as if controlled by something or someone else. It was like walking through a town full of puppets. They were chasing me.”

“That sounds terrifying,” he comments.

“It was,” I reply. “It was awful.”

My hands start trembling at the memory. Suddenly, the sun isn’t enough to keep me warm. It feels as if the air turns to ice, each gust of wind slashing at my skin.

Echo watches me intently, his gaze resting on my trembling fingers. I try to steady my breathing, reminding myself that I’m not out there anymore. I’m in the dreamscape. Here, I’m safe.

“How is that even possible?” I ask, my forehead creasing with confusion. “A dream within a dream. Why would that even happen?”

He turns to stare at the sun and takes a deep breath.

“When I pushed you out of the dream, the shadows must have been too close. I did everything I could to prevent it, but some must have slipped out with you.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, my throat tightening. “But still... Echo, the things I saw... It wasn’t about losing track of what was real. Everything happening to me was real. I saw shadows in the store and I heard your voice. After that, my memory turns blank, but… I somehow came back home. The same thing happened when I talked to Camilla. I had a conversation with her on the phone. That’s when I heard the… the presence, talking to me. Camilla said I freaked out, too. It wasn’t just a dream. These events, they really happened.”

Echo turns away from the sun, his expression somber, reflecting the seriousness of my words.

“What you experienced is rare, even within the intricate layers of dreamscapes. It’s called dream bleed-through. Your reality and the dreamscape merged due to the close presence of the shadows during your transition. That’s why everything felt so real yet so distorted.” He pauses, lips pursed thoughtfully. “In other words, when you were ejected from the dreamscape, you were still in a receptive state, normally under my control here. Sure, you have some power in this realm, but primarily, you receive whatever I create for you. When you were suddenly forced out, you continued to receive, but without guidance, allowing the shadows to exploit this. They merged your reality with your receptive state and twisted your perceptions to suit their needs.”

My stomach churns. “Their needs... what do they even want from me then?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“I don’t know, Claire,” he answers solemnly. “But whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

I’m left breathless.

“But surely... it won’t happen again, right? It was just a one-time thing, the shadows following me, wasn’t it?” The thought of it happening again terrifies me. I can’t imagine anything worse than not being able to live my life normally—well, perhaps only the inability to return here, to the dreamscape.

But instead of Echo smiling and reassuring me, he clenches his fists and tightens his jaw. “I wish that were true, Claire,” he says calmly, though his voice is heavy with gravity. “But once they’ve latched onto your subconscious, they can exploit it again.”

My mouth falls open helplessly. “But then, how do I know what’s real and what’s not out there?” I ask, my heart squeezing painfully.

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