The team of two dreamers are being engulfed in the dark as black night as they are plummeting down to who knows where. Wherever it is they are going, it's obvious that they're likely not going to land on anything soft. Dreamfinder and Figment hold each other together as they continue down screaming, trying their best not to separate. It is the empty void of darkness that is probably scarier to them right about now than it is just falling, for neither one of them knows where or when there will be any sight of light again or will it be deemed safe for them to land on.

"Dreamfinder!" Figment shouts.

"Figment!" Dreamfinder shrieks. "Hang on!"

"I don't think that door was any laughing matter!"

"Gee, really?!" sassed Dreamfinder, sarcastically.

"How far down do you think this goes on?"

"Something soft, I hope! Look!"

          Coming up below them is a small speck of light growing bigger and bigger as they get closer and closer. Is it a portal to another world, the end of the long fall down to this unplanned destination, or perhaps the doorway to their demise? Whatever it is, there is no turning back.

"Get close to me, Figment!" Dreamfinder shouts.

          As they continue falling, Figment grabs onto Dreamfinder's arm. Dreamfinder's back is against the light shining below. Just as he once tried to save Rachel as best as possible, he wants to make sure Figment get the chance of a softer landing in the end. The light grows bigger, coming closer, setting both of their heartbeats in a rapid speed. This kind of fall, however, is not new to them. As used to it as they could get, it still remains as a huge fright-riser for the both of them. They each hold each other tightly, bracing themselves for the hurt that awaits them on the surface ground.

          But just as a single thread on Dreamfinder's vest touches the very barrier of the upcoming light, they seem to falling a lot more slower, as if...floating down. One of Figment's tightly closed eyes opens slightly. He looks down below and realizes the slow going they are now in. He taps the tip of his dragon claw onto Dreamfinder's shoulder and prompts him to look down. Dreamfinder opens both of his eyes next, astonished and relieved that they are both drifting down in the safest manner possible.

"I guess we haven't reached a 'dead end' after all, huh?" Figment giggles.

"Don't say 'dead,' Figment! " Dreamfinder snaps. "We still don't know where we're going other than down."

"Dreamfinder, look! I see a door!"

          Indeed, there is. As Dreamfinder and Figment float closer down to the light a door appears to their view. They scan the door as they keep lowering down. The door looks as if it is over 50 feet tall! It is rusted over a golden orange chrome and large gilded handle. The wood on the door is slowly deteriorating as they see some wooden chips still cracking and chipping off. Whatever chips come off end up turning into dust as they fall and touch the ground.

          Finally, the Dreamfinder and Figment both safely touch their feet to the surface of the floor with Dreamfinder's top hat slowly floating down into Figment's hands, giving it back to his creator. They each exchange looks back at each other while also glancing at the large door in front of them. Their only source of light at this time is a long-range spotlight shining like a pillar above them like they are on a stage. The question of what this door is and what is behind it still remains.

"Wowie-wow!" exclaims Figment.

"Wowie-wow, indeed!" Dreamfinder repeats. "It is as big as the old Academy Scientifica-Lucidus location back in London."

"That is one BIG door! But how do we get in?" Figment asks, as he observes the door.

"Hmm...we could fly up to the handle and try to pull it open." Dreamfinder suggests. "Or maybe we can imagine ourselves growing tall enough to reach it. No! We'll just say 'open sesame' like Ali Baba and his Forty Thieves did and let it open itself!"

"Dreamfinder!" Figment calls out. He flutters towards the door and finds another knob, about average-actual sized. He grabs onto it and pulls it to him, making another smaller door open— a secret door! Cobwebs are being pulled out and hanging down and across the arch into larger webs. Thankfully, the webs are feint to the touch and there aren't any spiders.

"Yes well, or, uh— we can just go through this smaller door." Dreamfinder stammers conspicuously with a blush in his cheeks.

          Without thinking of what dangerous possibilities could lead them for the worst, they both enter through the smaller sized door and into the even-more darker darkness that comes with it.

          But suddenly, at the touch of Dreamfinder's foot on the floor inside, a puff of the supposed "dream-powered" pink smoke starts rising dramatically and spreads out throughout the room like an epidemic. The dream power is bringing in some light for them to see around them. It rises to the ceiling, blowing away whatever light weighted object there is out of view for more and more light to come in. As the dream power surrounds the Dream Duo, it magically changes Dreamfinder's clothes back to his official blue dress suit look. As the light shines brighter, the room they've entered begins to illuminate.

          Right before them is a vast foyer, broken and crumbled with pieces of walls and pillars and broken glass shards scattered about. A floor of a staircase is where they enter from on a red carpet filled with dirt, mold and dried leaves below them. Branches of wild stray vines are growing in every crevasse that can be see, including the broken glass top floor in the middle of the room where giant rusted gears are sitting there useless, twisted in position, and motionless. Under some debris and greenery are some run-down, but originally well fashioned and whimsy looking doors. There are pieces that are missing from each of them and they all have equal multiple layers of dirt, rust, and dust covering them, as well as multitudes of corners filled with spider webs and cobwebs. There are neon lights broken down, the paints in this room are chipping, the vines are slowly, yet quickly growing bigger and taller as the eye can see; everything in this room is a complete wreck! Despite all of this, the sight of this foyer has only increased the excitement and curiosity of our heroes.

"Whoa!" gasped Dreamfinder with his jaws completely dropped.

"It's like dream power heaven!" exclaimed Figment. "Look at this place: 'Art,' 'Sound,' 'Flowers,' a 'Library,' a 'Rainbow Tunnel?' How is this all here?"

"Indeed...<how? Where are we? What is this place?"

"I dunno, but let's check it out anyway! There's bound to be something nifty we can find around here."

"Very well, but let's be very careful." Dreamfinder warns. "There's no telling what is safe or not if we just dash through everything recklessly."

"Alrighty then!" Figment agrees. "Now let's see...which way should we go?"

"So many choices!" Dreamfinder says as his excitement begins to build up. "How are we to decide which path to take?"

"Mo!"

"Mo?"

"Sure! Eenie...meenie...miney...mo! I choose...there! Let's go there first!"

          Figment starts heading towards the door that says "Flowers." A mass of branches and vines are growing from behind the busted door. The door is pentagon shaped with dirtied yellow round bumps resembling flower petals. The middle of the door has a small mirror in the middle with and orange sign above it spelling "The Garden of Imagination" and purple flowers sprouting out like it's a picture of a flowerpot. Figment tries to pull the door open, but his little purple arms would not make it budge. So Dreamfinder steps in and helps Figment pull it with all of the strength he had that was necessary. The door opens with a loud screech from its rusty joints. Puffs of dust from the ground rises up to where the two friends would inhale it and make them cough. They enter the garden and find the whole place just as wrecked as the foyer. This room resembles very much like a greenhouse filled with strange-looking, but dead plants. The air is cold and musty and moist with mold and rot growing almost everywhere in sight. The plants are dried and withered as they lie on the ground like corpses. Very few streams of light are shooting through whatever small cracks there are on the walls and the ceilings. The signs that depict what plants are here have words those has faded overtime and are filled with holes eaten by whatever kind of bug life was left. The glass windows and rot iron materials that hold the structure of this particular greenhouse are cracked and rusted.

"Kind of eerie in here, huh?" Figment asks in a slight shiver in her scales.

"Yes...yes, it is." muttered Dreamfinder. "Just think, with this much plant life dead, imagine how much life there must have been previously when this was in its heyday."

"I don't know what that means, but I'll bet you that all the hay must be dried up, too."

"It's a shame. I would have loved to see what their beauty must have looked like—"

"EEK!" Figment shrieks. He rushes to hide behind Dreamfinder and into his blue coat to shiver.

"Figment! What's wrong?" Dreamfinder asks to his surprise.

"D-d-d-d-down there!" Figment points to the ground.

          Below them is a rose...a really big rose! It's got to be the largest rose they have ever seen. Its large dried up stem and leaves on the sides lying there limbless and its large wrinkled head as red and dead as dried blood. But the flower's size is not what has scared Figment; it's what was in the head that did it. Looking closely at it, you can see that there was not just a bundle, but a face within it! Its eyes are closed and relieved in death. It possessed a mouth with lips that were once as luscious as they could be, but are now chapped and declined. As if this rose was once as lively as human could be, it looks as if it died as one, too, much to the fear and pity from the Dreamfinder and Figment.

"My word!" exclaimed Dreamfinder. "A rose with a face! It's a lot like the rose from 'Alice in Wonderland' by Lewis Caroll."

"Oh yeah!" Figment realizes. "I don't know why I noticed it before. It's sad, though."

"Poor thing...let's...let's press forward."

          As they slowly walk past the pitiful scene of the dead rose, they tread through the rest of the withered wild life that surrounds them and exit to the next room.

          In this new room, the "Literature Room," everywhere is in total darkness. Just as they came in, there is hardly a speck of light to be seen other than a small amount that is shining behind them in the greenhouse room. The only object they see in this particular room is a large letter block that young children would often play with sitting before them with the letter "L." Figment flies over to pick up the block. At the first touch, another block, this time with the letter "I", appears up ahead of them. Dreamfinder then follows Figment along as more and more letter blocks keep appearing; each with more or less the same and different letters. The next few letters that come up are a "G," an "H," a "T," an "N," and another "I", "N", and "G." Together they end up spelling "lightning." The letters suddenly start peeling off of the blocks like stickers and starts rapidly shooting up towards the ceiling, bursting together into a large lightning bolt made of the same letters spelling it and striking a nerve in the two heroes.

"Yikes!" Figment screams, as he quickly buries himself in Dreamfinder's arm chattering his teeth.

"There, there. It's alright, Figment!" said Dreamfinder, attempting to calm his flying purple friend. "It's alright...hmm."

"What is it?"

"Doesn't this place seem familiar, Figment?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean familiar, as in déjà vu kind of familiar?"

"You mean like back in the Nightmare Nation after we teamed up with Fye and Chimera? Right before you became the Dreamfinder?"

"Quite possibly, yes. I wonder what could have interpreted this moment to happen here? And after a hundred years?"

"Beats me." Figment said. "But it does take us back down Memory Lane, doesn't it?"

"Yes...a very dark Memory Lane." Dreamfinder said grimly. He points ahead and says, "There's the next door up over there. Let's keep going."

"Righto! I'd rather be anywhere else than this creepy place."

"This room or everywhere here?"

"...I may need to think about that a little more." said Figment, shivering.

          The two friends eagerly exit out of the Literature Room and into what seems to be the "Theatrical Arts" room. A pair of masks, one happy and one sad, are hanging together over the arch of the door, but there are some damages and cracks on them making them a lot less appealing to look at. Inside, there are quite a number of boxes and chests sitting around stacked on top of one another, including one that is filled with applauding hands. There isn't a single box in here that isn't covered with dust. About three vanity mirrors are lined up on the wall to their left, framed with dead or broken light bulbs. A rack of dusty, moth-eaten, but colorful costumes hang in rows beside the vanities. To their right are the boxes and chests filled with wigs, hats, and masks. The large beaten props serve as old faded décor, to which in their current state looks more like green-hill or stone-like monsters towering over them and waiting to tip over and squish them into pancakes.

"Wowie-wow!" Figment exclaims. In his excitement, he dives into this vast collection of wonderful used-up things like it's a swimming pool. After rummaging underneath, the dragon pops back out wearing a jester's jingle-belled cap and a Shakespearian tunic shirt. "Look at all this neat stuff!"

"Intriguing!" said Dreamfinder. "There must be costumes made for every genre there is here in this room."

"Yeah! And there must be a stage nearby, too. Check this out!" Figment continues digging through the costumes and comes out wearing something different: and eighteenth century Colonial America uniform with a three-pointed military cap. He quotes, "Give me liberty, or give me doubt!"

"Wow." Dreamfinder chuckles. "That actually sounds pretty deep. Let me try!" Dreamfinder searches through the costumes on the racks by the vanities and pulls out a red king's robe cuffed with white fluff. In the chest, he finds a white beard and a large crown. Dreamfinder gets dressed in it and starts playing king. He improvises in his British accent saying, "I dub thee Sir Figmen-ton of the British Isles!"

"All hail King Dreamfinder!" Figment cheers.

"Hmm?"

          The Dreamfinder suddenly notices something moving in the pile of costumes Figment is sitting in. It is burrowed underneath, but whatever is in there it's moving fast. The moving lump bumps into Figment's thigh, making the poor dragon scream and jump out to Dreamfinder's side. Dreamfinder takes off his king's robe, he holds it up, slowly sneaks over to the costume pile, and then quickly wraps the robe over and grabs the little lump. The lump starts wriggling to break free as Dreamfinder struggles to hold onto to it. Every piece of clothing in there is being tossed about into one giant carpeted mess. Figment joins in and helps Dreamfinder try to hold down whatever is in there, but it would not stop fighting.

          Out of the creases of the one of the costumes, the small lump reveals itself in its escape. A small ball of brightly colored light, as bright as twenty candle lights, flies out and shimmers its aura into its captives' faces. It's a spark!

"Mama?" said the spark.

"Ah! Dreamfinder, look! It's the spark from the Academy!" Figment screams.

"My word! You're right, Figment!" exclaimed Dreamfinder. "Wait. Figment, you don't think that...that Rachel might be here? She had the spark with her when she disappeared."

"Hmm...I don't know, Dreamfinder. This one has a bit of both blue and green on it. The one Rachel took was more orange and pink. This isn't the same spark as before."

"Then that means...Figment, if I'm right, then what Fye has told us before must be true! There must be more of these sparks living here."

"???" Confused, the spark looks at both Dreamfinder and Figment. It studies their faces carefully. It circles around them inspecting whatever details of their physique they must have. Looking into their eyes, the little spark starts to cringe a little. It moaned, "Aw...not Mama."

"Mama?" Figment quotes in question. "That's what the other spark was saying back at the Academy when it was imprisoned."

"Hmm...I've got a feeling that whoever its mother is, she must be somewhere in here. Hey! You know when I sometimes say what necessity is considered the 'Mother of Invention?' What if this spark's mother is the Mother of Invention? That would explain somewhat of where these sparks come from and our imagination must obviously be the key to communicate with them. That makes sense, right?"

"I guess so. Though, I was only able to understand the last half of what you said."

"Figment, you were able to communicate with the last spark." said Dreamfinder, remembering what had happened previously. "Can you do it again with this one?"

"I can try." Figment turns to the little spark and, with a smile on his face, starts talking to it. "Uh...excuse me, little guy."

"Mama?" said the spark, perking up.

'Uh...no. I'm not your mama. I'm Figment of the Imagination. I was a spark of inspiration just like you once. That's why I can understand you."

"Oh."

"Are there more of you living around in here?"

          In response, the little bluer spark makes a beeline to the next door out of this room. It stops at the door and floats up and down in place. Figment returns his costume to the costume pile and flutters up to Dreamfinder's side. They both stand there watching the little spark waiting at the door, realizing what this spark must be wanting.

"I think it wants us to follow him." Figment suggests.

"I believe you're right, Figment." said Dreamfinder. "Maybe now we might finally get some answers."

"And more sparks!"

"Right. Let's go!"

          The Dreamfinder and Figment start following this newly found spark wherever it goes, passing doors of many kinds along the way; many of them relevant to the imagination, while others tend to come from the unexpected. The ones they go by are strangely, yet curious named like "Sweet Dreams," "Dirty Thoughts," "The Math-magic Room," "The Rainbow Room," among other names. They walk through these empty halls of waste and overrunning nature thinking what all of these rooms used to represent or accomplish for the imagination when it had previously functioned. And for that matter, how long ago did this all close down if even?

"Hey, what's that door?"

          Suddenly, Figment spots a door quite unlike the others. It is a steel door, covered in vines, bruised and beaten, with only a small window to peek into the darkness inside it. On the rusty surface there is an old sheet of paper taped to the door. A large keyhole is present but there is no handle to pull or push it open.

"Uh, Figment. I don't think you should open that door." said Dreamfinder o his discomfort. "The sign says, 'Must