By the time they reached the seven month mark, everything had gotten worse. The shadows were no longer a rare occurrence but a daily terror. Objects disappeared, reappeared, or multiplied without warning, creating a distorted and unpredictable reality around them. George had abandoned the map entirely—it was too overwhelming to track all the strange phenomena. Meanwhile, Dream's shoulder hadn't healed, the bruise remaining as a painful reminder of the shadow's touch.

They were in the bathroom that night, trying to cling to some sense of normalcy. Dream stood at the sink, brushing his teeth, while George sat on the counter beside him, chatting about nothing in particular. Their conversations had become more mundane lately, as if avoiding the reality of their situation would somehow keep it at bay.

As Dream spit out the toothpaste and looked up into the mirror, his hand froze. There, behind him, was a shadow. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light—his mind playing cruel games—but George went silent beside him. Dream glanced at George, whose eyes were wide, staring at the mirror.

"You see it too?" Dream whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

George nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the dark, looming figure in the reflection. "Yeah," he whispered back, his voice tight with fear. "It's in the house..."

This was the first time a shadow had crossed their threshold, invading their last sanctuary. Dream turned slowly, his eyes searching the space behind him. Nothing. The shadow wasn't physically there, but in the mirror, it remained—still, dark, and haunting. It stood motionless, almost as if waiting.

"Why is it here?" Dream asked, his voice shaking.

"I don't know," George murmured, sliding off the counter, his movements slow and deliberate. "But I don't think we should stay in here."

Dream felt his heart race, his mind swirling with the implications of what they were seeing. The shadows had always been outside, lurking at a distance, but this... this was different. They were no longer safe, not even in their own home. He dropped his toothbrush into the sink, the clatter breaking the tense silence.

"Let's go," Dream said, his voice low, laced with urgency. George nodded, stepping closer to him. They moved in unison, slowly backing out of the bathroom, their eyes never leaving the mirror where the shadow lingered, watching them.

As they reached the doorway, Dream flicked off the light. For a moment, everything was plunged into darkness, and when Dream looked back at the mirror one last time, the shadow had vanished. But the dread it left behind didn't disappear so easily.

They hurried to the living room, both breathing heavily. George sat on the sofa, his hands trembling slightly as he ran them through his hair. "What the hell was that?"

Dream shook his head, feeling the same fear gnawing at him. "I don't know... but it was real. It was here."

George stared at the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. "If they can come inside, then nowhere is safe anymore."

Dream felt a chill run down his spine at those words. The house had been their last refuge, the one place where they felt like they had some control. But now, even that small comfort was gone.

"What do we do?" George asked, looking up at Dream, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

Dream didn't have an answer. All he knew was that the shadows were closing in, and their world—this twisted, unnatural reality—was getting darker with each passing day.

Dream stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "We need to leave," he said firmly, glancing toward George, who was still shaken by the encounter. "We'll drive, find somewhere new. Everything here is starting to become hostile."

George nodded in silent agreement, not needing any further convincing. The shadows were becoming more frequent, more aggressive, and if they stayed, Dream knew it would only get worse. Without another word, they both sprang into action, moving with an urgency that hadn't been there before.

George grabbed a bag, throwing in essentials with quick, practiced movements. Dream followed suit, packing his own things with an efficiency that came from months of this grim routine. George scooped up Patches, who stirred slightly in his arms but didn't resist. The cat had become a small source of comfort in the madness, and neither of them was willing to leave her behind.

Dream paused for a moment at the fridge, staring at the pictures pinned to the door. They were snapshots of a life that now felt like it belonged to someone else—moments from a world he wasn't sure he would ever see again. Without thinking, he pocketed the pictures, a reminder of the life he was clinging to, even as everything around him seemed to fall apart.

With their bags packed and Patches secure in George's arms, they stepped out of the apartment and into the cold, desolate streets. The snow had thickened, covering everything in an unsettling blanket of white. Dream took one last look at the apartment—the place that had been their refuge for so long. Now, it felt like a trap.

"Let's go," Dream muttered, more to himself than to George. He led the way to the car, his eyes scanning the shadows that seemed to shift in the periphery of his vision. He didn't know where they were going, but staying here was no longer an option. They needed to escape before the shadows consumed everything.

As they drove away, Dream couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror. The apartment, the streets, everything they had known slowly disappeared into the snow. They were leaving behind more than just a place; they were leaving behind the last remnants of the world they once knew.

they drove through the snow-covered streets, the silence between them was thick with uncertainty. Dream's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes flicking between the road ahead and the rearview mirror, as if expecting to see a shadow lurking behind them.

George, sitting in the passenger seat with Patches curled up in his lap, broke the silence. "Just drive west," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the tension. "I've already used up all the materials in the other towns before I met you. There's nothing left for us back there."

Dream glanced over at George, unsure of what to say. West. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the only direction they had. "West it is," Dream murmured, pressing his foot down on the gas.

The car rolled forward, the engine's hum the only sound cutting through the eerie quiet of the world outside. Snowflakes whipped against the windshield, and the landscape seemed to stretch on endlessly, barren and bleak. There were no signs of life—just miles of emptiness and the occasional shadow flickering at the edge of their vision.

Dream's mind was racing, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few days. George had been surviving on his own for so long, and now here they were, running from something they didn't even understand. He glanced at George again, watching as his gaze was fixed on the road ahead, his face unreadable.

"How far do you think we'll have to go?" Dream asked, his voice breaking the silence.

"I don't know," George admitted, his eyes still forward. "As far as we can. There has to be somewhere... safer."

Dream nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced. The reality they were in seemed to warp and shift without warning, and he wasn't sure if safety was even a possibility anymore. But they had to keep moving. They had to try.

The drive was quiet, the only sound coming from the tires crunching against the snow-covered road. Dream fiddled with the radio knobs, hoping to catch a signal, but nothing came through—just static and silence. It felt unsettling, as if the world outside had been muted, leaving only the two of them to face their fears.

After a while, George finally broke the silence. "I'm scared," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what will happen next."

Dream tightened his grip on the steering wheel, glancing at George. "It'll be okay," he replied, trying to sound reassuring, though he didn't fully believe it himself. "We'll find somewhere safe. We'll figure this out."

But George shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "No, it won't. This place is just... it's getting worse, Dream." His voice cracked as the weight of everything they had been through hit him all at once. "I don't know how much longer I can take this."

Dream's heart sank as he watched the tears spill down George's cheeks. The sight of George, usually so strong and resilient, reduced to this was almost unbearable. Without thinking, he pulled the car to the side of the road, the tires crunching into the snow as he came to a stop.

"Hey," Dream said gently, turning to face George fully. "It's okay to be scared. I'm scared too." He reached out, placing a comforting hand on George's knee. "But we're in this together, right? We can get through it."

George looked at him, his expression a mix of fear and vulnerability. "I just... I don't want to lose you, Dream. I can't do this alone."

"You won't lose me," Dream promised, his voice firm. "I'm not going anywhere." He squeezed George's knee reassuringly, wishing he could take away the pain and uncertainty that had become their reality.

George's gaze flickered to Dream, his brow furrowing with concern. "I feel crazy," he admitted, his voice shaking. "I mean, I'm seeing shadows and—"

"You're not crazy," Dream interrupted, his tone firm as he reached out to wipe away a stray tear from George's cheek. "I see them too. We're in this together." But as he spoke, he felt a sudden sharp pain slice through his head, a jarring throb that made his vision blur.

"Dream?" George's voice grew frantic as he noticed Dream's change in demeanor. "What's wrong?"

Dream opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. The pain intensified, a hammering in his skull that left him disoriented. He grasped the steering wheel tightly, trying to focus, but everything around him started to fade.

"Dream!" George shouted, panic rising in his voice. The concern in his eyes sent a wave of urgency through Dream, but it was too late. The world around him swirled into darkness as he lost consciousness, his head slamming against the steering wheel with a dull thud.

In that moment, everything went silent. The last thing Dream felt was the cold metal of the steering wheel pressing against his forehead before the darkness swallowed him whole.

-----

Dream's eyes fluttered open, the familiar surroundings of his bedroom slowly coming into focus. The soft morning light streamed through the window, illuminating the messy piles of clothes and the remnants of late-night snacks scattered around. But something felt off. He could sense a weight in the pit of his stomach, a strange disorientation that gnawed at him.

"Dream! You awake?" Sapnap's voice broke through the haze, sounding both urgent and relieved. He leaned against the doorframe, a frown etched on his face.

"Yeah, I'm up," Dream mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What happened? How long was I asleep?"

"Just one night," Sapnap shrugged, his casual demeanor slightly easing Dream's unease. "You had a weird look on your face when I came to check on you. Thought you were gonna die or something."

Dream chuckled softly, though it felt hollow. "I feel... weird. Like I just came back from somewhere. Did I say anything?"

"Nope," Sapnap replied, stepping into the room. He moved to the small kitchenette, rummaging through cabinets. "You just slept. We have that game today, so I made breakfast. You should probably eat something."

As the smell of eggs and bacon filled the room, Dream swung his legs over the side of the bed, his heart racing slightly. The crisp autumn air seeped through the window, brushing against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. Something felt wrong—like he had lost something significant, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

He tried to shake the feeling off, focusing on the present. "Thanks, Sapnap," he said, forcing a smile

After quickly dressing, Dream caught a glimpse of his shoulder in the mirror—a faint, large purple bruise marred the skin, standing out against the pale backdrop. He frowned, running his fingers over it, but no memory of how it had gotten there surfaced. Maybe he had bumped into something? It didn't feel like it mattered. Shaking off the unease, he headed out to join his friends.

In the living room, he found Sapnap and Karl sprawled on the couch, a mess of pillows and blankets surrounding them. They were sharing a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, the warm aroma wafting through the air. Karl looked up and flashed a bright smile.

"Good morning, Dream!" he said cheerfully, waving a fork as if it were a magic wand. "You look a bit out of it. Did you have a rough night?"

"Just didn't sleep well," Dream replied, forcing a grin as he plopped down next to them. "What's the plan today?"

Sapnap leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "We could open the café for a few hours this morning. It'll be a half-day today since we've got that game later."

"Sounds good to me," Dream said, feeling a flicker of excitement. The café was always a welcomed distraction. It was comforting to be busy and surrounded by familiar faces.

"Cool," Karl chimed in, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I'll grab the coffee supplies. We'll need to make sure we're stocked up for the regulars."

Dream nodded, trying to shake off the remnants of the strange feelings that had lingered since waking up. As they gathered their things, he pushed aside thoughts of the bruise and the odd sensation of having lost something important. For now, he would focus on the café, the game, and the simple joys.

As Sapnap headed downstairs to open up the café, Dream lingered for a moment in the apartment, taking in the familiar surroundings. Everything seemed perfectly normal. The place was neat and tidy, with everything in its place. The living room was adorned with colorful throw pillows and art pieces on the walls that reflected their personalities. The coffee table was free of clutter, and the faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air.

Dream walked around, his fingers grazing over the surfaces of the furniture, appreciating the sense of order. It was comforting to be in a well-kept space, especially after the chaotic dream he couldn't quite shake off. He glanced at the small bookshelf filled with their favorite novels and games, a collection of memories and shared interests.

In the kitchen, he could hear the soft sounds of Sapnap moving about, the rhythmic clinking of utensils, and the quiet hum of the refrigerator. It was a simple moment, but one that brought him a sense of peace.

"Hey, Dream!" Sapnap called from the kitchen. "Are you coming down soon? I need your help with the coffee machine."

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" Dream replied, forcing himself to push aside the lingering feelings of confusion and worry. He wanted to focus on the here and now, the camaraderie of the café, and the excitement of the day ahead.

Dream settled into the rhythm of the café as the usual customers began filtering in, each one greeted with a friendly smile. The comforting clatter of cups and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, creating a familiar and lively atmosphere.

Punz was one of the first to arrive, his playful banter filling the space. "Hey, Dream! You got my usual ready?" he asked, grinning as he approached the counter. Dream chuckled and nodded, quickly preparing a caramel macchiato, just the way Punz liked it.

"Just for you, Punz," Dream said, sliding the drink across the counter. "How's school treating you?"

"Same old, same old. Just trying to keep my grades up. You know how it is," Punz replied, taking a sip and giving Dream a thumbs-up.

Philza wandered in next, his signature beanie pulled low over his brow. He had an easy-going demeanor and was well-liked among the regulars. "Morning, Dream. Can I get a flat white today?"

"Of course, Phil!" Dream replied, swiftly crafting the drink. "You got any plans for the weekend?"

"Just some family stuff, nothing too exciting," Philza said, leaning casually against the counter. "How about you?"

"Just the usual—work and hanging out with these two troublemakers," Dream said, glancing toward the kitchen where Sapnap was wrestling with the espresso machine, a small plume of steam escaping as he fidgeted with the settings.

The day continued to flow smoothly, with customers coming and going, each one a familiar face. Dream felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing their names and orders by heart. It was the kind of day he relished—the chatter, the laughter, the warmth of community.

As he poured another drink, Dream couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu from the earlier dream. It lingered in the back of his mind, a whisper of something forgotten. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the interactions around him. The café felt alive, and he wanted to be fully present in the moment.

As the lunch rush began to dwindle, Sapnap came up beside him, wiping his brow. "How's it going?" he asked, glancing at the remaining customers.

"Pretty good! Everyone seems in a good mood today," Dream replied, feeling the same surge of energy from the buzz of the café.

"Good. Just remember we need to close up early for the game," Sapnap reminded him.

"Yeah, I got it. We'll have everything cleaned up and ready to go," Dream assured him.

the café buzzed with the usual crowd, Dream was taken aback when an unfamiliar face walked in. A boy with tousled brunette hair and a cozy blue jumper made his way to the counter, exuding an air of casual confidence.

"I'll have an espresso, please," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

Dream found himself staring, feeling an inexplicable pull toward the stranger. "Sure thing. What's your name?" he asked, trying to mask the unusual familiarity he felt.

"George," the boy replied, flashing a friendly smile.

"George," Dream echoed, the name rolling off his tongue. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had known this boy long before today, though logic told him otherwise. "I don't think we've met before; you're not a regular here."

"No, I'm just passing through. This place stood out to me for some reason," George said, glancing around as if absorbing every detail.

Dream couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that felt so reminiscent. In a moment of impulse, he scribbled his number on the side of the coffee cup, tucking the note into the warm paper before handing it to George with a casual smile. "Here you go. Enjoy."

George took the cup, his brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. "Thanks! I appreciate it."

As George turned to leave, Dream felt a flutter of hope. He watched as the boy paused halfway out the door, glancing back over his shoulder with a bright smile that lit up the entire café. It was a smile that seemed to ignite something deep within Dream—a sense of connection, a hint of recognition.

"See you around, George!" Dream called out, the words carrying a weight of longing that he couldn't quite articulate.

"Yeah! See you!" George replied, his voice trailing off as he stepped outside.

Once the door swung shut behind him, Dream's heart raced, a mix of excitement and uncertainty washing over him. He didn't