Leo's dreams began like whispers—a flicker of light, a scent of earth, glimpses of images that seemed to emerge from deep within his own subconscious. But tonight, these visions felt sharper, more tangible. As he drifted deeper into sleep, scenes unfolded before him, scenes of his parents, vivid as memories he could almost touch.

  He found himself in an unfamiliar house, yet it felt oddly comforting. There, standing by a cluttered desk, was a younger version of his mother, Jennifer Casari, her face radiating the thrill of accomplishment. She wore a modest dress and stood before a small group of academics, her hands full of certificates as she accepted her double doctorate in Computer Science and Archaeology. She had just achieved something monumental, and the pride radiating from her was almost overwhelming. Leo could see the exhaustion in her eyes—countless nights of study, research, and effort—but there was an unshakable determination there, too, a fire that hinted at a purpose beyond academia.

  Jennifer wasn’t like other archaeologists. Her studies in computer science, combined with her fieldwork in archaeology, had driven her to invent techniques to hide secrets within artifacts and unearth knowledge that others could barely imagine. She developed methods to encode ancient languages into virtual cryptograms and techniques to reconstruct lost civilizations within digital landscapes. She was a true pioneer, balancing the worlds of the ancient past and the cutting-edge future.

  As the scene shifted, Leo felt himself pulled further back in time. Now he saw his father, Leonard Adams, a tall, lean man with a perpetual intensity in his gaze, dressed in the fatigues of an army uniform. Specialist Leonard Adams served in Desert Storm as the Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) of his squad, a role that was both a lifeline and a target. Leo watched his father with Corporal Riley, Sergeant Greenwell, Private Driver and Private First Class Lawson. They had been brothers-in-arms, laughing, sharing stories, and offering each other support in the scorching desert heat.

  One moment, they were joking around, trading jabs and talking about what they’d do when they got back stateside. Riley was boasting about his dream to open a fishing shop, while Lawson tried to convince the others he could outrun any scorpion in the desert. Leonard’s face softened as he shared his own plans—to get back to his studies, to earn his doctorate in archaeology, a goal that had surprised his squadmates, but which they respected deeply.

  Then, Leo’s vision grew darker, turning into a nightmare. His father’s face was no longer lit with a soft smile but twisted in alarm as chaos erupted around him. They were returning on foot from a recon mission when the unthinkable happened—friendly fire. The air filled with dust, smoke, and the thunderous noise of nearby shelling. Leonard screamed into his radio, “Cease fire! Friendly fire! Friendly fire!” His words seemed swallowed by the roar of explosions. He watched in horror as Private Driver and Sergeant Greenwell fell, followed by Corporal Riley, their bodies crumpling like rag dolls.

  Leonard ran, trying to shield Lawson, yelling for him to fall back. Amidst the chaos, Lawson somehow managed to pull Leonard to safety, carrying him through the dust and heat despite his own injuries. They were the only ones to make it back alive, but Leonard’s spirit had been scarred. Leo saw his father years later, haunted by the ghosts of that day, a reminder of the lives that had been lost and the loyalty he held to those he’d left behind.

  The scenes twisted and changed again, and Leo found himself observing a different moment. His parents, years younger, were laughing together at a university campus. His father was on leave, taking classes to earn his doctorate in archaeology, where he had met Jennifer. Leo could see the spark between them as they shared theories and notes, laughing over cups of coffee and sneaking glances that hinted at something more. They were friends first, colleagues who shared a passion for uncovering hidden truths and piecing together puzzles of the ancient world. Their relationship had blossomed slowly, bound by mutual respect and trust.

  As the memories faded, Leo felt a sudden shift, like a shadow crossing over his dreams. He wasn’t alone anymore—someone else was in his vision, an intruder in this intimate landscape of his parents’ past. The world blurred and reformed, and suddenly, Leo saw Grieger.

  But this was not the General Grieger he knew; this was a younger man, standing in the dense Amazonian jungle, sweat streaming down his face, a look of determination in his eyes. He was with a team—a UAP investigation unit, from the Commission. And there, beside him, were Jennifer and Leonard, working under the Commission’s directive to investigate a strange sighting at an ancient Amazonian temple. This was the same temple Leo had seen in the game, the place where he had found his first key: The Lost Monolith.

  The temple loomed, imposing and foreboding. The locals had warned them not to disturb anything, that the temple was sacred and that terrible curses awaited those who defied its sanctity. But Grieger, then a colonel, was unfazed by their warnings. He had spotted something—a rare sword adorned with intricate ancient inscriptions, pulsing faintly with an otherworldly light.

  Grieger’s eyes gleamed with greed and ambition as he reached for it, his fingers closing around the hilt. As he lifted the sword, a strange power surged through him, an intoxicating rush that made him feel invincible. He ignored Leonard and Jennifer’s cautious pleas, brushing them off as superstition. The sword felt like it was made for him, as if it were channeling something dark and powerful directly into his veins.

  But as soon as he lifted the sword from its resting place, everything changed. Shadows shifted in the temple, and whispers filled the air. The ground trembled, and dark figures emerged from the shadows, their faces expressionless yet somehow menacing. The Keepers.

  They surrounded Grieger, silent and unyielding, their presence almost ethereal, like beings from another realm. One of the Keepers stepped forward, pointing at Grieger with a long, bony finger. In a voice that echoed through the temple, it pronounced, “Those who seek to steal what is sacred will face torment and judgment.”

  Panic rippled through the team, and Leonard turned to Jennifer, nodding in silent agreement. They had to leave. Jennifer took a deep breath, addressing the Keepers with the little knowledge she had of their language, pleading for mercy. The Keepers listened but remained resolute, their gaze fixed on Grieger and the sword he held.

  Leonard tried to reason with Grieger, urging him to leave the sword and retreat. But Grieger’s pride would not let him back down. He clung to the sword, claiming it as a prize, a weapon he could use to gain even greater power. But as he defied the Keepers, they took him.

  The vision darkened as the Keepers seized Grieger, dragging him into the shadows. He was held hostage, tortured by the very beings he had insulted. Hours passed, the weight of his arrogance crushing down on him as pain and fear twisted his heart. But eventually, Leonard and Jennifer returned, having negotiated with the Keepers to leave the temple in peace. They were granted safe passage, but only if they abandoned the sword and swore never to return.

  Reluctantly, Grieger was forced to release his claim, his spirit bruised but his anger smoldering. When Leonard returned with reinforcements to save him, Grieger was nearly unconscious, beaten and humiliated, his pride shattered. Though Leonard had saved his life, Grieger never forgave him for not fighting the Keepers to protect his so-called prize. From that day on, Grieger’s resentment festered, his desire for power and revenge slowly consuming him.

  As the vision faded, Leo’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. He lay in bunk, drenched in sweat, his mind swirling with the tangled threads of his parents’ past and Grieger’s bitterness. He saw now that this mission was not just about him or his team; it was an ancient battle over knowledge and power, a struggle that had drawn in his parents, and now, him.

  Leo's breath came in uneven gasps as he lay there, staring at the dim, cracked ceiling of the bunker. The dream still clung to him, its details as vivid as if he’d just lived it. Every vision, every scream, every murmur of the Keepers resonated deep in his bones. The betrayal, the anger in Grieger’s eyes as he was dragged away, Leonard’s cautious retreat—each piece felt like a fragmented memory that his mind was stitching together in real-time.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A slight creak broke the silence as Mack shifted in his bunk, watching him with a knowing gaze. “You all right there, kid?” he asked, his voice low but laced with concern.

  Leo nodded slowly, though he wasn’t entirely sure he was all right. “Yeah, just… I had a dream,” he replied, almost to himself.

  On the bunk across from him, Rafe shifted, wincing slightly as he adjusted his bandaged side. Despite his injuries, his eyes were sharp, taking in Leo’s haunted expression. “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked, the gentle roughness of his voice cutting through the quiet tension.

  Leo hesitated, glancing from Rafe to Mack, and then back to the flickering light bulb hanging overhead. He took a deep breath and began recounting the details of his dream—the images of his parents’ past, his father’s experience in Desert Storm, the strange connection between them, Grieger, and the Amazonian temple where they’d encountered the Keepers. He described the Keepers’ warnings, Grieger’s arrogance, and how it had all led to betrayal and bitterness. He could feel the weight of his own words, the gravity of the story he was weaving as Mack and Rafe listened in silence.

  When he finished, a heavy stillness settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the bunker's machinery.

  Rafe let out a long breath. “That’s… that’s a lot to unpack,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “It sounds like your parents were involved in some serious stuff, and Grieger… well, it explains a lot about the guy.”

  Mack remained quiet, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “Dreams like that don’t come out of nowhere,” he murmured, almost as if to himself. “Seems like you’re tapping into something deeper, something that the game is unlocking in you.”

  Rafe nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. “Speaking of which, didn’t someone mention that the game had a Shadow Market? Or did I read that somewhere?”

  Mack’s expression sharpened, and he leaned forward, a glint of recognition in his eyes. “Yeah. Actually, I remember now. They had one in a previous version of the game called Stone Chronicles: The War Within. It was kind of like a hidden market, only accessible to those who knew where to look. It’s supposed to be a place where… well, where secrets come at a price.”

  Leo’s curiosity flared. “A price? What kind of price?”

  Rafe grinned, though there was a hint of warning in his tone. “The Shadow Market isn’t exactly your friendly neighborhood trading post. From what I remember, it’s a place where all sorts of deals go down, often with NPCs known as the Shadow Brigade. They’re… crafty, to say the least. Sometimes, you have to fight your way in, and other times, you can make a deal. But here’s the catch—they’re notorious for breaking deals when it suits them.”

  Leo frowned, trying to process this new information. “And… you mentioned something about a Seer?”

  Rafe’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that’s right. There’s supposed to be a Vision Seer in the Shadow Market. It’s the only trading post in the game where you can find someone who can interpret dreams and visions. Might be worth looking into, considering the kind of… well, let’s just say unique dreams you’re having.”

  Mack’s gaze was steady. “But the Shadow Market isn’t for the faint-hearted. This isn’t like the quests we’ve been doing so far. The Shadow Brigade are sketchy characters—NPCs, sure, but they act almost like players in the sense that they’re unpredictable. And they won’t hesitate to backstab you if there’s something in it for them.”

  Leo nodded, the gears in his mind turning. The Shadow Market seemed like the perfect place to start seeking answers, especially if this Vision Seer could help him understand the strange memories and visions that had been haunting him. But he knew it wouldn’t be easy. The Shadow Brigade sounded like a formidable obstacle, and the thought of having to navigate through their territory made him uneasy.

  Mack glanced at him, an approving gleam in his eye. “If you’re willing to go, you’ll need to stay sharp. The Shadow Market is no place for amateurs. But you’ve come this far, Leo. I’ve got a feeling you’re not about to back down now.”

  Leo’s gaze hardened. “I need to find out the truth. About my parents, about Grieger, and… about what these visions are trying to tell me. If the Shadow Market is the only way to get answers, then that’s where I’m going.”

  Zara chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, count me in, then. I could use some fresh air, even if it’s in the form of digital quests.”

  Mack gave a sly grin. “Looks like we’re going shopping in the shadows, folks.”

  The following day, the team logged into Stone Chronicles: Veil of Titans. Leo’s resolve was as solid as steel, his focus entirely on locating the Shadow Market. He relayed what he knew to the rest of the team, briefing Cipher, Nova, and Forge on their upcoming challenge.

  “The Shadow Market?” Forge echoed, scratching his head. “I thought that was just a rumor.”

  Cipher adjusted his virtual glasses, his face thoughtful. “I’ve read bits and pieces about it in the game forums. People say it’s hidden in the outskirts of the Midnight Vale, a place where the in-game time is permanently stuck at midnight. It’s an eerie, mist-covered forest filled with creatures that can vanish into shadows.”

  Nova, always the explorer, nodded excitedly. “That sounds perfect. I’ll map out a route and keep an eye on potential ambush points. If the Shadow Brigade is as sneaky as everyone says, we’ll need to be extra cautious.”

  The team set off, each member geared up and mentally prepared for the challenges ahead. The journey to Midnight Vale was treacherous, with shadowy creatures lurking at every turn, and the eerie silence of the place weighed heavily on their spirits. But they pressed on, knowing that whatever secrets lay within the Shadow Market could be the key to unraveling Leo’s past. Nova’s route quietly guided them through all the various beast lairs so that the team remained unscathed.

  As they approached the outskirts of the vale, a heavy mist rolled in, shrouding the trees and casting strange, flickering shadows across the forest floor. The atmosphere was oppressive, like the calm before a storm. Leo’s pulse quickened as he scanned the area, his senses on high alert.

  Just as they reached a clearing, a figure materialized out of the mist—a member of the Shadow Brigade, his face partially obscured by a hood. His gaze was piercing, and a sly grin played on his lips.

  “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk. “Looks like we have some brave adventurers looking for a taste of the shadows.”

  Leo stepped forward, meeting the man’s gaze without flinching. “We’re here to enter the Shadow Market. We’re looking for the Seer.”

  The man tilted his head, his grin widening. “The Seer, you say? She doesn’t see just anyone. And the Shadow Brigade… we don’t give free passes.”

  Zara crossed her arms, her tone cold and unwavering. “What do you want?”

  The man’s eyes gleamed with interest. “We’re traders of secrets and keepers of shadows. To pass, you’ll need to give us something of value—a memory, a skill, or maybe… a bit of your soul.”

  Forge let out a scoff, gripping his hammer tightly. “And if we don’t want to trade?”

  The Shadow Brigade member chuckled, a low, ominous sound. “Then you’ll have to fight your way in. But I warn you—the shadows are relentless. You might make it to the market, but not without leaving something behind. Plus you will have to face me again when you decide to leave.”

  Leo exchanged a glance with his team. The choice was clear—they either had to give up something valuable or prepare for a battle. He could feel his resolve hardening; this wasn’t just a game anymore. The answers he sought were within reach, and he was willing to face any challenge to uncover the truth.

  “Prepare yourselves,” Leo murmured, gripping his sword as his team fell into defensive positions. “We’re going in, one way or another.”

  Mackiaveli raised a hand to calm everyone’s nerves. “I have a memory I know you will want to enjoy from Stone Chronicles: Birth of Knowledge. However, I warn you, should you accept this memory, there will be consequences if you decide to change our agreement. What’s ours is ours, and what’s yours is yours, and we are only here to see the Seer for advice on what is ours.”

  The Shadow Brigade member’s grin faltered slightly at Mackiaveli’s words, but he quickly recovered, a glint of greed sparking in his eyes. “Very well. A memory from the Birth of Knowledge itself is a fine trade indeed. We accept your offering. But remember, the shadows do not take kindly to broken promises.” He waved a hand, and the thick mist parted, revealing a winding path that seemed to descend deeper into the earth.

  The group moved forward, the dim light from above fading as they entered the Shadow Market. As they walked, eerie whispers brushed against their ears, like fragments of long-forgotten conversations. Dark figures in cloaks watched them from behind stalls and twisted alleyways, their eyes glinting with unnatural light.

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