The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet, the air cool and calm as the sun dipped below the horizon. Haruto moved softly through the house, pausing at the door to Mina’s room. He hesitated for a moment, listening to the silence beyond, then gave a gentle knock.

  “Come in,” Mina’s voice called from the other side, sounding steadier than it had been in days.

  Haruto pushed the door open to find her sitting at her desk, a faint smile crossing her face when she saw him. She looked better—less pale, less fragile—though a shadow of the Dreamscape still lingered in her eyes. Her expression softened as he stepped inside.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice quiet, almost cautious. “I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright.”

  Mina turned in her chair, giving him a small nod. “Yeah, I’m... I’m fine. Just... tired, I guess.” She paused, then stood, closing the distance between them. “But I wanted to say thank you, Haruto. You really did save me.” Her voice was earnest, filled with gratitude that she had struggled to express since they’d escaped from the collapsing palace.

  Before he could respond, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a gentle hug. Haruto froze, momentarily stunned by the gesture, but then relaxed, a warm smile spreading across his face as he hugged her back.

  “You’re like the older brother I never had,” Mina whispered, her voice soft and sincere. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

  Haruto remained quiet, his chest tightening at her words. He held her a moment longer, his smile widening as a quiet warmth spread through him. He didn’t have to say anything—words weren’t needed to convey the bond they had forged in the Dreamscape. Finally, Mina pulled away, her eyes bright with a renewed sense of purpose.

  “Get some rest,” he said, his voice gentle. “We’ve got school tomorrow, and we need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

  Mina nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “I will. Thanks, Haruto. Really.”

  Haruto gave her one last reassuring nod before heading back to his own room, feeling lighter than he had in days. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to hope that things might get better.

  The following day, the group of friends gathered at their usual spot outside during lunch, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sense of normalcy that school life offered—despite everything. Haruto’s bag sat beside him, occasionally wriggling as Maki shifted and fidgeted inside, clearly bored with his confinement.

  Shinji eyed the bag with a bemused grin. “I still can’t believe you keep that furball around,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s going to get us caught one of these days.”

  Mina giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s not that bad. He’s… cute. In a weird way.”

  The bag suddenly gave a particularly violent jerk, and Maki let out a muffled yelp. Without missing a beat, Shinji reached over and gave the bag a playful smack. “Quiet in there, you little gremlin.”

  “Ow!” Maki’s muffled voice protested from within the bag. “I heard that, you big lunkhead! And that hurt!”

  Before anyone could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air.

  “Haruto!” Ms. Takamaru’s voice rang out from a few feet away. She had been walking past and froze at the peculiar sound coming from his bag. Her gaze narrowed as she approached, suspicion evident on her face. “What was that noise just now?”

  Haruto froze, his mind racing. He exchanged a panicked look with his friends, who quickly jumped in to cover for him.

  “It’s nothing!” Nao said quickly, forcing a cheerful smile. “Probably just a… a squeaky toy!”

  “Yeah!” Mina added, nodding vigorously. “Haruto found it this morning and thought it was funny, so he brought it with him.”

  Ms. Takamaru’s expression remained skeptical. “A squeaky toy? During school hours?” She crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. “I think I’d better take a look. Hand over the bag, Haruto.”

  Haruto hesitated, his heart pounding as he slowly handed over the bag. He tried to think of a way to talk his way out of it, but there was no time—Ms. Takamaru unzipped the bag and peered inside.

  There, nestled among his textbooks, was Maki, his tiny face caught in an expression of utter shock. Ms. Takamaru’s eyes widened, and she let out a sigh, pressing her fingers to her temples.

  “Haruto,” she said slowly, her tone a mixture of exasperation and disappointment. “You brought a monkey to school?”

  Maki’s eyes darted around frantically, and he waved his tiny arms in the air. “I can explain! This is all a misunderstanding!”

  Ms. Takamaru shot Maki a stern look. “I can’t believe this... A monkey—talking or not—is not allowed on school grounds. I’m going to have to report this, even if I don’t want to.”

  Shinji’s face paled, and he stepped forward, his expression desperate. “Wait, you can’t do that! He didn’t mean any harm. Just let it slide this once.”

  Ms. Takamaru shook her head. “I’m sorry, but school rules are—”

  Suddenly, Shinji’s face shifted, a strange gleam entering his eyes as a thought struck him. He lowered his voice, his tone suddenly casual. “You know, Ms. Takamaru… it’d be a shame if anyone found out about your little habit during school hours.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Shinji’s expression turned sly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, you know… like that time I saw you sneaking a smoke behind the gym during lunch last week. Or the time before that. I don’t think the school board would be too happy if they knew you were smoking on school property.”

  Ms. Takamaru’s face went white, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find a response. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly, her voice cracking.

  Shinji leaned back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s okay, Ms. Takamaru. Your secret’s safe with us. But maybe we could come to an agreement? You keep quiet about the monkey, and we’ll keep quiet about your… extracurricular activities.”

  Her expression twisted with frustration, and she glared at Shinji with a fury that made Haruto’s stomach churn. But after a tense silence, she exhaled sharply, clearly realizing she was cornered.

  “Fine,” she hissed, her voice tight with anger. “But if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, there will be consequences.”

  “Deal,” Shinji said smoothly, his tone almost taunting. He winked, giving her a mock salute as she turned on her heel and stormed off.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Nao let out a long, shaky breath. “Shinji, you absolute idiot! You blackmailed a teacher?”

  Shinji shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, I saved our butts, didn’t I? Sometimes you’ve got to fight fire with fire.”

  Haruto shook his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement. “Just… don’t do that again,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “We’re trying to avoid getting into more trouble, remember?”

  Shinji grinned. “Yeah, yeah. But admit it—I handled that like a pro.”

  “More like a disaster waiting to happen,” Mina muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

  Maki peeked out from the bag, his tiny face still pale. “You guys are insane,” he said, his voice quivering. “But… I guess that’s why I’m sticking around. Never a dull moment with you.”

  Haruto chuckled, relieved that the immediate crisis had been averted. But even as the laughter and banter picked up again, there was a lingering tension in the air—a sense that they were playing with fire, and that things were only going to get more complicated from here.

  The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the town as Haruto and Mina walked home, the air cool and the streets quieter than usual. They moved in comfortable silence, the weight of the day’s events settling between them. Haruto could sense a lingering unease in Mina, but he didn’t press her—he knew she needed space to process everything that had happened in the Dreamscape and the tension at school.

  They were halfway down the street when a familiar voice called out from behind them.

  “Hey, wait up!”

  They turned to see Nao jogging toward them, her face slightly flushed from running. She stopped a few feet away, catching her breath, and flashed them a bright smile. “I was hoping I’d catch you two. Do you guys want to hang out for a bit?”

  Mina hesitated, glancing down at the textbooks clutched in her arms. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a pile of homework waiting for me at home. Maybe another time?”

  Haruto saw the disappointment flicker in Nao’s eyes, and before he could second-guess himself, he spoke up. “I’m free,” he said, giving Nao a small, encouraging smile. “We could grab a coffee or something.”

  Nao’s face brightened, and she nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

  Mina gave them both a teasing look before waving goodbye. “Have fun, you two. I’ll catch up later.”

  Haruto and Nao watched her go before turning and making their way toward a small, cozy café on the corner of the street. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as they stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. They found a table by the window, the warm sunlight streaming through the glass and casting a golden glow over the worn wooden surfaces.

  As they settled in, Nao seemed unusually quiet, her gaze distant as she stared out the window, lost in thought. Haruto waited patiently, sensing that she had something on her mind. It wasn’t long before she took a deep breath and spoke, her voice hesitant.

  “Haruto… can I ask you something?” she began, her eyes flickering nervously to his.

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  “Of course,” he said gently, leaning forward slightly.

  Nao bit her lip, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I know it sounds silly, but… I’m scared.” Her voice wavered, and she glanced down at her coffee cup, her fingers tracing the rim absently. “I’m scared of letting you all down. Of not being good enough. Of messing things up when it matters most.”

  Haruto frowned, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. “Nao… what makes you think that?”

  She let out a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s happened before. Back in middle school, I was part of the track club. I had a really close group of friends, you know? We did everything together, and I thought we’d be friends forever. But then… I blew it.”

  She paused, her gaze distant as if she was watching the memory play out in front of her. “There was this huge competition coming up. Everyone was counting on me to win the relay for our team. But I choked. I lost the race, and we didn’t make it to nationals. After that, things changed. My friends drifted away, and I felt… worthless. Like I didn’t deserve to be part of the team. I thought they blamed me, even if they never said it out loud.”

  Haruto’s chest tightened at the pain in her voice. “But that wasn’t your fault,” he said softly. “Everyone makes mistakes, and one race doesn’t define you. If they couldn’t understand that, then maybe they weren’t real friends to begin with.”

  Nao shook her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It wasn’t just about the race. It was about me, about feeling like I wasn’t enough. Like I didn’t belong. And now, with everything we’re doing in the Dreamscape, I’m terrified I’ll mess up again. That I’ll let you all down, just like I did before.”

  Haruto reached across the table, gently taking her hand in his. She looked up, surprised, meeting his gaze.

  “Nao,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You’re stronger than you think. I’ve seen you fight, seen the way you stood by my side even when things were at their worst. You didn’t let anyone down—you stepped up when it mattered most. And you’ve already proven you’re part of this team, whether you realize it or not.”

  Nao’s breath hitched, and she squeezed his hand, her grip trembling. “But what if I’m not enough? What if I can’t be what you all need?”

  Haruto gave her a gentle smile. “You don’t have to be perfect. None of us do. All that matters is that you’re here, that you care, and that you’re trying. We’re a team, Nao. We’ll face whatever comes together.”

  Nao’s eyes shimmered, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you, Haruto,” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. “I don’t think I’ve ever really told anyone how I felt. I guess… I was afraid no one would understand.”

  A warm, soothing presence filled Haruto’s mind, a familiar sensation that made his heart swell with understanding. A voice, gentle and firm, echoed in the back of his thoughts:

  "I am thou, thou art I... Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chain of captivity. With the birth of the Lovers Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power..."

  Haruto’s smile widened as the bond between him and Nao solidified, a quiet understanding passing between them. Whatever doubts she had, they would face them together.

  Nao gave a shaky laugh, wiping away her tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Haruto said, his tone light and reassuring. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  She smiled, her eyes still red but filled with gratitude. “Yeah. Friends.”

  They finished their coffee, the atmosphere between them lighter now, a newfound bond easing the weight of their worries. When they left the café, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the town and painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

  As they reached the corner where their paths split, Nao hesitated, then leaned forward and gave Haruto a quick, impulsive hug. “Thanks,” she said softly. “For listening. For everything.”

  Haruto returned the hug, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “Anytime, Nao. I mean it.”

  With a shy smile, she stepped back, waving as she turned and walked in the opposite direction. Haruto watched her go, the sense of connection lingering between them like an unspoken promise. As he made his way home, he felt lighter, more certain that they could face whatever challenges the Dreamscape had in store.

  He didn’t know what lay ahead, but he knew that he wasn’t alone. And that made all the difference.

  Haruto arrived home as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the quiet house. It had been a long day, and exhaustion was beginning to weigh on him, but there was still a lingering sense of contentment after his conversation with Nao. He dropped his school bag near the door and made his way to Mina’s room, feeling the need to check on her—just to make sure she was really okay.

  He peeked through the slightly ajar door and found her at her desk, surrounded by a small mountain of open textbooks and notebooks, diligently working through her assignments. Maki was sprawled out on her bed, snoring softly, his small form rising and falling with each tiny breath. A hint of a smile tugged at Haruto’s lips as he watched them, feeling a strange sense of normalcy amid the chaos of their lives.

  Mina glanced up from her work, noticing him standing there. “Hey,” she said with a soft smile. “Just finishing up some homework. I’m feeling better today.”

  Haruto nodded, stepping into the room to give her a gentle pat on the back. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “You look stronger.”

  Mina’s smile widened, and she returned to her studying as Haruto turned to leave, giving Maki one last amused glance before heading back down the hallway. As he approached his room, however, a figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking his path.

  Chiharu’s stern face greeted him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Haruto,” she said, her tone firm, “we need to talk.”

  Haruto froze, feeling a knot of guilt twist in his stomach. He had half-hoped that his aunt wouldn’t notice Maki’s presence in the house, but there was no escaping it now. “What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to sound innocent.

  Chiharu’s gaze narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Don’t play dumb. I know about the monkey you’ve brought home.” She gestured back toward Mina’s room, where Maki’s soft snores were still audible. “You didn’t think I’d notice?”

  Haruto winced, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. It’s just… Maki needed a place to stay, and I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

  Chiharu let out a long, slow sigh, clearly holding back her frustration. “Haruto, I don’t mind you having pets, but you need to ask me first. I don’t want some random animal running around the house causing a mess. If that thing makes a mess or causes trouble, I’m throwing it outside. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Haruto said quickly, nodding. “I’ll make sure Maki behaves. He won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  Chiharu eyed him for a moment longer, her expression softening just a fraction. “Good. And don’t forget—this is my house. You need to respect my rules.”

  “I will,” Haruto said, relieved that she hadn’t banned Maki outright. “Thank you.”

  She uncrossed her arms, clearly satisfied with his response, but her stern demeanor remained. “One more thing,” she added, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You haven’t been getting into any trouble at school, have you?”

  Haruto swallowed, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ve been keeping my head down.”

  Chiharu studied him for a long moment, as if weighing the truth of his words. Finally, she nodded, seeming to accept his answer. “Alright. Just remember that I’m here to help if you need it. I know things have been… difficult since you came here. I don’t want you making things harder for yourself.”

  “I understand,” Haruto said, feeling a strange sense of gratitude for her concern, even if it was buried beneath layers of caution and formality.

  Chiharu’s expression softened slightly, and she leaned against the wall, rubbing her temples as if trying to ease a headache. “You know, things at the police station have been crazy lately,” she said, her tone lowering to a weary murmur. “There’s been a lot of talk about the coma cases, and the department is all over the place trying to figure it out.”

  Haruto’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face neutral. “What do they think is happening?” he asked carefully.

  Chiharu shook her head, frustration etching lines into her forehead. “They’re convinced it’s the work of someone—a person—behind all of this. But they don’t know who or what’s causing it. No real leads, just speculation and fear. The station’s been on high alert, and the chief’s been working late every night trying to find answers.”

  She sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “It’s gotten so bad that people are starting to panic. Some think it’s some kind of psycho, others say it’s a curse. But nobody knows for sure, and that’s what’s making it so dangerous.”

  Haruto’s stomach churned at her words, and he felt the weight of the Dreamscape settle over him like a shroud. He knew more than he could ever tell her—that the comas were linked to the palaces, to the shadows lurking in the Dreamscape. But he couldn’t say any of it. Not without putting them all at risk.

  “What… what do you think?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray the turmoil churning inside him.

  Chiharu hesitated, a dark look crossing her face. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it’s not safe. And if it is some kind of killer… well, I don’t want you getting involved in any of it. You stay out of it, understand?”

  Haruto nodded, the lie sitting heavy on his tongue. “I will,” he said quietly. “I promise.”

  She gave him a long, searching look, then nodded once more. “Good. Now, get some rest. And make sure that monkey doesn’t chew on the furniture.”

  “I will,” Haruto repeated, managing a faint smile as she turned and headed down the hall toward her bedroom.

  As he turned his back, a familiar yet firm voice appeared in his head. “"I am thou, thou art I... Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chain of captivity. With the birth of the Hermit Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power..."

  When he returned to his room, he closed the door softly behind him, his mind spinning with the weight of everything he had just heard. He sank onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as the reality of their situation settled over him like a heavy blanket. There was a killer out there—someone who understood the power of the Dreamscape and was using it to trap people in their own nightmares.

  He didn’t know who it was or what their motives might be, but he knew one thing for certain:

  The Dreamweavers were already caught in the middle of it, and there was no turning back now.

  The next morning dawned gray and overcast, the clouds hanging heavy in the sky as if reflecting the uncertainty in Haruto’s mind. He walked to school with Mina, their conversation light and unfocused. A sense of unease had settled over him since Chiharu’s revelation, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing just beneath the surface—something they weren’t prepared for.

  When they reached the school courtyard, they met up with Nao and Shinji by the front gates. They exchanged greetings, the camaraderie of the Dreamweavers a steady comfort amid the turmoil. As they started to head inside, a tall, lean student with dark hair collided with them, stumbling backward slightly. His uniform was neat, his posture straight and composed, and he immediately bowed in apology.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” he said in a low, clear voice, his tone formal and almost unnaturally calm. “I didn’t see you there.”

  Haruto blinked in surprise, his eyes meeting the stranger’s. The boy’s gaze was sharp, intelligent, and he studied Haruto with a kind of curiosity that made Haruto uncomfortable. “It’s okay,” Haruto said, brushing off his uniform. “Don’t worry about it.”

  The boy straightened, his expression composed. “Ah, you must be new,” he said, his voice polite but direct. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

  Haruto nodded, feeling a strange sense of familiarity in the boy’s presence. “Yeah, I just transferred a few weeks ago.”

  The boy’s lips quirked in a small, polite smile. “I see. I suppose I’m new here as well—though not in the traditional sense. I’ve just come from homeschooling, so it’s a bit of an adjustment.” He spoke with an air of intelligence, each word carefully chosen, his manner calm and unhurried despite the chaos of the busy school morning.

  “Welcome, then,” Haruto said with a nod, unsure of what else to say. He sensed something deeper in the boy’s words, a hidden weight behind his formal demeanor.

  Shinji, ever direct, cut in with a casual tone. “So, why the rush, huh? You were practically sprinting.”

  The boy—Akira, as he introduced himself—paused, his eyes clouding with a hint of sorrow. “I was heading home,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I just got some… difficult news. My twin sister—she’s fallen into a coma. Like the ones on the news.”

  Haruto felt a jolt of recognition, and he saw the same shock mirrored in the eyes of Nao and Mina. Akira continued, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of pain.

  “My mother’s an alcoholic, and my father… well, he’s not a good man. I don’t trust either of them to take care of her,” he said, his face tightening with barely concealed frustration. “I need to get back to make sure she’s alright. I apologize, I didn’t mean to burden you with my personal matters.”

  He bowed slightly, a gesture that seemed both respectful and distancing, then turned and began to walk away. The Dreamweavers watched him go, a heavy silence settling over them as the implications of his words sank in.

  “Haruto,” Nao whispered, her eyes wide. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah,” Haruto replied, his voice tight. “Another coma… and it’s his sister.”

  Shinji rubbed the back of his neck, looking troubled. “Well, it looks like we know who our next target is. We can’t just stand by and let it happen again.”

  “But what if it’s already too late?” Mina asked, her voice trembling. “How do we even know if we can save her?”

  Haruto opened his mouth to respond, but Maki’s small, somber voice interrupted from inside Haruto’s bag. “You can’t save everyone,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Not everyone makes it out. Some people don’t survive their own shadows—most don’t, actually. That’s why they end up in comas, trapped in the Dreamscape with no way out.”

  “Then what’s the point?” Shinji snapped, his frustration spilling over. “Why do we even try if it’s hopeless for most of them?”

  Maki peeked out from the bag, his expression grim. “It’s not hopeless. Not completely. But if someone’s already been in a coma long enough to hit the news, then… chances are, it’s too late for them. Their shadow has probably won by then, and they’re stuck in a part of the Dreamscape where they can’t be reached. Their minds are... broken.”

  Nao’s face went pale, her eyes haunted. “So there’s nothing we can do?”

  “There’s something you can do,” Maki said quietly. “You can save those who haven’t reached that point yet. Those whose shadows haven’t fully consumed them. But you need to act fast, and you need to be careful. The longer you wait, the harder it gets.”

  Haruto’s chest tightened. “Then Akira’s sister… we might still have time?”

  Maki nodded slowly. “Maybe. If she’s only just slipped into a coma, her palace might still be reachable. But you’re on a timer. And if we don’t do it right, we could lose her too.”

  The weight of Maki’s words settled heavily over them, and Haruto felt a cold determination solidify in his chest. He thought of Akira’s composed but sorrowful expression, of the pain he had barely concealed behind those intelligent eyes. Akira’s sister was out there, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape from, and they were the only ones who might be able to pull her back.

  “We need to talk to him,” Haruto said firmly, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at his gut. “Find out what he knows about his sister. Maybe it’ll help us find her palace and figure out how to save her.”

  Nao and Mina nodded in agreement, their faces set with resolve, while Shinji let out a deep breath, his earlier frustration giving way to determination.

  “Alright, then,” Shinji said, his tone firm. “We find Akira tomorrow and get him to tell us everything he knows. No messing around.”

  “Agreed,” Mina said softly, her gaze distant but resolute. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

  The rest of the day passed in a blur, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness as the weight of their new mission settled over them. When the final bell rang, they gathered their things and headed home, each of them lost in their thoughts, the gravity of the situation pressing down on their shoulders like a storm cloud ready to burst.

  As the scene shifted, the warm light of the school day was replaced by the cold, sterile darkness of a small, cluttered room. In the corner sat a solitary desk, its surface littered with papers, notebooks, and strange, cryptic diagrams pinned to the walls.

  A single candle burned, casting flickering shadows across the narrow space. A figure sat hunched over the desk, his movements methodical and precise as he wrote in a journal, the scratch of his pen the only sound in the room.

  It was the same boy from before, his face hidden behind a plain, featureless mask that concealed his identity. His eyes were focused, almost feverish as he scribbled furiously, his movements quick and unrestrained.

  “Another one saved,” he muttered under his breath, his tone both bitter and amused. “But they have no idea... no idea what’s really happening.”

  He paused, his gaze shifting to the candle’s flame, his expression unreadable behind the mask. Slowly, he closed the journal, his fingers lingering over the pages as if savoring some private thought.

  “This town,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not what they think it is. They’re still in the dark.”

  He paused for a moment and smirked. He chuckles. “These fools will pay for ruining my plans!”

  He stood, blowing out the candle with a soft puff of air, the room plunging into darkness. The sound of footsteps echoed softly, then faded away, leaving nothing but the quiet, oppressive silence of secrets yet to be uncovered.

  Whatever game the boy was playing, it was only just beginning. And the Dreamweavers had no idea how deep the shadows truly went.