A dream catcher quietly hovers over a little boy’s face. Its flames chase away the darkness. His tiny features ease as the siphon drips, as his dream unfolds. The green gate opens and the boy steps into a world of joy.
The dark dreamer sets foot within the city. His greed knows no bounds. His white eyes lead only to a dead soul. Grey cold flames form a crown upon his silver hair.
With a single thought he wills his fire to grow, to spread, to devour, in an endless search of happiness long since forgotten. The city falls, shrouded by an impenetrable fog, destined to be erased from the world of men. In the end, for a dreamer, the rules of humanity are like the skin of a snake.
The dream catchers struggle to contain the void. Their light implodes as the tide of darkness washes over them. Reduced to ash, they no longer safeguard the weak. Upon his throne of bones, the tyrant lets a thin smile slip. The feast begins.
The green gates crumble as the fog caresses them. The boy‘s eyes widen as his dream world fades. He tries to scream as the smoke invades his lungs, suffocating him, forcing him to his knees. The nightmares rule, as the corrupted and twisted dreams shatter.
Yet the boy still struggles, a lone cub in a flock of sheep.