Dreamfall Effect


CHAPTER I

All Death Leads To Dreams We Never Met


From the beginning to the end; love and pain; the misdemeanors and misadventures, Zoe Castillo had told her story. She had nothing else to say, nothing else to add. Even though she was dead, she could breath easier when a sudden weight had been removed off her chest.

The man in front of her stood there with silence. It looked like he hadn't moved. He stood there without making a single comment; he stood there just staring at her. His bright blue eyes had penetrated her soul and had found a reason to sympathize with her. Even though he doesn't physically show it, his eyes had shown a kind smile. The type that people usually use when they see a good friend, however even though they hadn't met before either Stark or Arcadia, Zoe felt like they had knew each other for a very long time now.

"You have finished your story…" he spoke in a sullen tone.

"Indeed I have." Zoe nodded. She just realized that she had been telling him the story while she was wearing her knickers. However it didn't matter to her, as she wants to hear a story from him as well.

"Aren't you going to tell me a story?" she asked, she waited for a reply. Once he did, he explained about the concept of the world once more while telling her again about the Storytime being a metaphorical book of endless stories.

"I know. I know, but I would like to hear a story…" she spoke with minor frustration. She half-expected him to scold her, but with a calm demeanor and aloof appearance, he had told her that he couldn't tell one since he doesn't have a story of his own.

"Then why do we have to tell stories?" Zoe inquired, trying to subdue her frustration with more knowledge.

"Stories are something I enjoy." He said. "Stories tend to help me remember. Stories would help you describe you past life. They act as the essence of one's soul. To help them remember on what they did in the past life to those who forget. Not all dreamers will remember who they were once before, but few do when an interesting story is told."

"So it's basically like reincarnation?"

"No." His voice boomed. "They're completely different despite the lines that separate them are blurred between the two. Dreamers are different to reincarnates because they can be at the two places at once."

"Then why do we forget our past lives if we could exist in two different places?"

"Why do people forget dreams that once dreamt?" The man replied cryptically. "Like all dreams that came before, we mostly forget on what they're about, but with a story being told about that dream, the dreams we had are preserved into our soul."

Zoe, despite being frustrated, gradually took in the information with consideration. She sympathized with the wise man's knowledge as she understood why stories are needed to be told.

"But why don't you have a story of your own? Could you tell me one that you had heard before?"

"I can't, that's not my purpose in the Storytime. I only exist to collect stories and give them back when the time has come."

"When would that be?"

"Time will tell…" The old man spoke as he paid his attention away from Zoe. He told her that something was wrong, something that shouldn't been this powerful before. Zoe didn't understand the cryptic warning he was telling her, but something in her senses told her that an ominous event is about to occur.

Like the calm before the storm, it came out of nowhere. From blue to green; calm to violent; light to dark. Everything felt like it was throw off the balance. Chaos echoed the air like a hurricane in Kansas City. It tried to uproot, drag and destroy anything in its path.

Rocks, the size of mountains, began to levitate off the distance. They spun and drift around a light source as though it was the universe itself that urge them to move forward. It looked pretty even though it was causing the chaos. However, it began to destabilize as tendrils form; it made itself into a vortex of chaos and furry.

"The undreaming is unchained." The old man spoke with sadness. He kept calm even though everything tried to destroy itself.

"The what?" Zoe spoke with panic. She tried to absorb everything that was happening.

"The Undreaming…" The man repeated. He raised his arms as though he was Moses.

"You must save yourself Zoe Castillo. The Undreaming is not merciful against dreamers. Find the god that searches for you. The Balance of everything lies on what is unknown."

"What is the unknown?" she shouted. The unknown could be a universal number of things.

"He treads on the path of idealism and realism; morality and immorality. Travel along the stars and you might find the question's you haven't ask. Time is short between the two worlds, you must act quick in order to leave…"

"And how do I do that?" Zoe spoke in a state of panic. This was far worse than the time she had a hostile-take over at Reza's Apartment.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Try to block out the world that you stand in. Learn to let your mind roam as you begin to fall asleep. Once your awake shall the dream begin."

"Okay. I'll try…" Zoe replied. She tried to follow the instructions that he had told her to do. Her mind eased as she took deep breaths. Her heart began to beat against her chest as she closed her eyes. The world became silent as she tried to think of happy thoughts. Her dad. Her friends. Reza. Damian and Wonkers. She wanted to be with them the most, she wanted to talk to them again. She wanted to tell them that everything would be alright and that as long as they dream about her, they'll have nothing to worry about. She had found peace within herself as she began to fall… but one person came to her head and that was Faith.

"Hello big-sister…" her voice spoke in her head. She could imagine the innocent girl already. She stood in the snow with her white dress; she was trying to say something that she couldn't understand.

"Wake up big sister." The young girl had told her. Soon, Zoe began to open her eyes.


2183 CE, Terminus System


Twenty-nine years he had lived in space. Twenty-nine years he would think about space. Twenty-nine years he would dream about space. Twenty-nine years, he yearned to venture off into space. Twenty-nine years later, he would die in space.

The hull blew up like a bomb. It threw him like a rag doll. The gravity of Alchera had to begun to pull him in. His suit was damaged and had begun to deplete its oxygen levels by the second. The only thoughts that could occurred was, "This it huh?"

Maxwell Shepard, the first human specter, had done a number of incredible things in his military career. He had saved Elysium from space pirates during The Blitz, diffused a bomb on Eden Prime. Gained knowledge from an extinct race during the chase for Saren and got rid of a pagan techno 'god' known as Sovereign off the Citadel. He managed to grant humanity a seat on the council and chose Anderson in charge because he was the best man he knows. This was all too much for one man to do, however he was in peace and content for all the great achievements he had made.

"I'm not afraid of death." He thought calmly; he had given up fighting against death sometime ago. He was not afraid anymore since he had no regrets that could've fulfilled, but the only one he had left was Ashley.

"I wished I could've talked to her one last time." He thought passively as he began to imagine on how she would react. Hurt was probably an understatement to describe the pain she would experienced. He imagined that his death would be the 212 all over again. However, he urged Ashley to be strong like the woman he had admired; the only thing she could do was to pray for him to find a better place and hope that he wouldn't become a burden to her morality.

"Well Sayonara Ash…" he spoke with his family tongue. He realized his parents are going to miss him a lot. His mom would get the news first, maybe through Hackett or Anderson. Next will be his father, he'll probably be working in India or Toronto already. He should've have gone back home before he left for this missing; he thought of introducing them to Ashley over dinner. They would've liked her as the daughter they never had, but since his imminent death was coming soon. He might as well hope they meet at his funeral. Talk about how great he was; he's going to miss them a lot.

Alchera grew closer any minute; he swears to himself that it was beautiful. However before the gravitational force began to increase. A whisper in his mind had told him something.

"All Death Leads To Dreams We Never Met. This is simply the beginning to the story you're about to step. Look for the girl who seeks the answers to questions she haven't asked. Her story will intertwine with yours Maxwell Shepard."

"What?" he asked to the disembodied voice. He needed to know who was contacting him. A small part of him hoped that someone was going to save him, but all that was left was burned out ruins of the Normandy and the dead-silence that had accompanied it.


Closing song:

Edge of the Ocean- Ivy