I sink into one of two remaining chairs in the back of the room. Turning towards the huge sheet of nanoglass separating us from the observation room, I study the mirrored frame of the device as it hums, its blue glow seeming to pulse to my own heartbeat. This is my first time seeing an actual Dream Weaver in person—and I’m sweating. Well, who’s to say why I’m sweating, as it's almost impossible to tell if a holoscreen is "on". I choose to believe it's just a see-through piece of glass today, while I watch the scurrying lab techs and the oversized monitor above their heads. From it, I see the Dreamscape beginning to form. Then a figure slides into the last seat beside me. He reads my nametag aloud as a question, his voice more gravelly than expected. I glance over. He has a boyish face, with dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His uniform is sharp—black and purple, the standard issue for a Dream Catcher cadet. "Yes," I reply before returning the favor, "Feris? He nods. "You know you're the second Feris I've met today. The other was a redhead, and by the galaxy did he seem excited about all this." Feris smirks slightly. "Didn't know my name was so popular." I smile and watch as he leans forward, eyes fixed on the Dream Weaver. Inside the machine, strapped in with thick metallic restraints, is none other than Owend Tates—the greatest Dream Catcher of all time. My stomach tightens, not believing my good fortune. Feris tilts his head toward the room. "Who's the girl?" I lower my voice. "Vida. Owend's daughter. She was kidnapped by the Off-World Federation weeks ago, but Feris, well, the other Feris," I clarify, "found her this morning, dumped in an abandoned hypercar outside the facility. She was unconscious. And infected." Feris frowns, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee. "And what? They just… returned her? No ransom?" He exhales loudly. "Strange. That doesn't seem like Bryce's style." "Yeah," I say, uneasy with his use of the OWF leader's name. The Dreamscape is fully loaded now, and I see a narrow alley, its towering buildings painted with flickering neon. Thin lines of pulsing red light run like veins through the cracked concrete ground. "Wow, I can't believe this is the Dreamscape of a young maiden," I mutter to myself, shaking my head. "With that father of hers, who can say?" comes the unbidden reply. Something in his tone makes my stomach knot. "It doesn't matter. Owend's here. If anyone can save her, it's him." He lets out a slow, measured breath. "You mean he's the only one who will, right?" I don't answer. Because we both know the truth. The Dream Catcher contract. It exists to prevent operatives from facing anything beyond their capacity, while limiting their time in the Dreamscape to avoid permanent psychological damage. And most importantly, it ensures that no one ever, under any circumstances, faces their doppelgänger. But Owend can be forgiven for breaking a few rules, right? Because what father wouldn't? I watch as Owend prowls his daughter's mind, his skills honed from years of hunting Nightrot. And he's not alone. A soundless figure steps out from the darkness, its form shrouded in a heavy cloak. I notice the glint of its red blade just before the creature lunges. Owend barely dodges, bending out of the way just in time, its pulsing sword slashing empty air. He rolls, snatches a broken pipe from the ground, and meets the next strike head-on. The creature is relentless. Blow after blow, its strikes rain down in a torrent. But Owend is unfazed, his body moving with almost inhuman precision. He finds an opening and slams the pipe against its wrist, sending the blade clattering to the ground. Then with a brutal shove, he knocks the attacker against a nondescript storefront. Its hood slips and it starts to chuckle, if one could call it that. I stare at its stone-gray marble skin. The sharp angles of its face. Its deep-set eyes. Owend's eyes. This isn't just any Nightrot, the nightmares born of a person’s deepest fears. It’s a Reflexion. The most powerful of all Nightrot. It’s when the object feared _is_ the Dream Catcher. It’s why no one dives without a contract. And why our room just went silent. Feris exhales sharply. "Things just got interesting." I ignore his words, not believing Vida could be this scared of her father. It’s not possible. "How does it feel, O-wend," the creature utters. "To see _you_." On-screen, Owend steps back, narrowing his eyes. Then with a flourish, he clenches his fists and closes his eyes. Before the grotesquery can react, flames explode all around them, consuming the alley instantly in a violent inferno as the Dreamscape reacts to Owend's command. Such awesome power I think, and for a second, I think he could still win. Then I see the Reflexion through the wreckage. With a flick of its fingers... the Dreamscape bends to its new master. The flames die. Smoke coils and fades. But Owend is gone. The Reflexion says nothing as it waves its hands. Crates splinter into dust. Storefronts implode, glass raining down in deadly shards. I realize it is tearing the world apart, unraveling it—to find him. Owend is fighting a game of attrition, against the house. And this house has never lost. I can't watch, and I turn to Feris. And see him... smiling. I'm about to say something, when I hear murmuring in the crowd. Turning back to the action, I see Owend walking toward the nightmare, its muscles tensing, preparing to attack him. Its blade... extending, unnaturally. This is it. And Owend is just standing there. Has he given up? I look over at Feris and he suddenly stops smiling as a second figure steps into view behind the creature. Its skin is cracked. Blackened. Rot spreading like disease. Feris stiffens beside me. The other Owend turns around, eyes narrowing. "Bryce? Why are you—“. Gasps ripple through the observation room. No one has ever seen the OWF leader’s face. "We need to regroup," the Nightrot version of Bryce interrupts. It grips the arm of Owend's Reflexion, its expression unreadable. "The real threat is escaping." A sickly glow spreads from the fake Bryce’s hand and the doppelgänger recoils. For the first time, it looks uncertain. Then, with a flick of its wrist, it buries its crimson blade into the newcomer, which collapses, taking the blade along for its ride to the concrete floor. It turns toward Owend with a menacing look, "Tricks won’t save you, Dream Catcher." Behind it I stare as the red blade in fake Bryce's back turns blue. Confused, I watch as the creature lunges at Owend, materializing a pair of crimson daggers in midair. Suddenly, it falls to its knees, looking wide-eyed at Owend's clenched hands, then at the Nightrot-corrupted blue steel sticking from its abdomen. Before the doppelgänger can speak, the real Owend opens his hands, causing the blade to cut the creature cleanly in two. The Reflexion convulses, its body breaking apart, crumbling like ash in the wind. It's over, and I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Vida immediately gasps awake as Owend stumbles from his seat in the Dream Weaver, pulling her into his arms, his shoulders visibly shaking. He's speaking, but I can't hear it over the ringing in my ears. Because as I watch Feris take off his glasses, I see it. I see everything, the puzzle pieces slamming together in a rush. I grab my comm, but before I can type out a message, Feris yanks it from my hand. "Hey Chance, no comms in here. You know that. I'll just hold onto this for you." He pockets my device, maintaining eye contact. I stare at him numbly. At the real Bryce. He says nothing, then turns to the scene ahead as he tries to suppress some emotion. The seats begin to clear, and I stand, slowly, Feris following my lead. Then I see his far hand. He raises a mini rail gun toward the glass. Toward—. My body is molasses. I watch, helplessly, as Owend and his daughter slump over the Dream Weaver, two rail dart sized holes clearly visible in the holoscreen glass. Before I can think, Feris points the weapon at me. "Sorry about this, friend. But you know—“. I hear a loud crunch as Feris is lifted by the neck, then hurled into the glass screen. Millions of shards fly off into the black, nothingness of space along with Feris, amid a myriad of stars. When my shock finally wears off, I turn towards my savior. Tears well up as I see Owend and his daughter. He is speaking to me, but his mouth isn’t moving. "Wake up! Wake up, Feris!" Then I'm back. My seat is reclined as I watch the nanoglass canopy lift off of me. Moving my arms, I feel the light pressure of the restraints and slowly disconnect myself from the Dream Weaver, noticing the tears in my eyes and my tousled auburn hair in the mirrored finish. I look up. "How are you, cadet? Whoa there, I'd get up slowly if I were you." I sit back down. "Wha? What happened?" "The OWF. They tried to break in through the front door. Bold.” I smile. "Was any of it real?” I ask, making conversation. "Well, it seems you spoke to Bryce. He injected something into you, which we surmise made you fear him. From there, we tried to create a scenario that would draw out the Nightrot into your Dreamscape.” “Wow. Sorry, my mind’s still spinning a bit like a Ferris Wheel.” “That’s normal. Your memory may be a bit jumbled for a day or so, but it will get better. For now we’re glad you’re okay.” “What about Bryce? I mean, the intruder?” catching myself. “We will continue to hunt him down and tear down every bit of his federation. You just get some rest, Feris. That’s an order.” I smile weakly and leave. Asking around, I make my way to the dorms. To Feris’s sleep capsule. These cadets are so helpful I think to myself, as I drift off to a restful sleep, with the knowledge that I did it. I am now Feris and the red head under my bed is no one. Tomorrow, these Dream agents won’t know what him ‘em. By the galaxy, me and my _federation_ will surely see to that.