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Sleep comes to lay its claim.

It doesn’t matter what you were doing.

It doesn’t matter what time of day it was, nor does it matter how awake you were a moment ago.

It doesn’t even really matter if you were alive or dead.

You sleep.

You don’t dream, but stars glitter across the dark of your subconscious.


When you open your eyes, you find yourself not in your bedroom, or your home, or anywhere remotely familiar to you.

You are standing in the middle of a circle of standing stones. They tower over you, smooth, cut rock of varying shapes and heights and widths, and sit in a perfect circle about fifty or sixty feet in diameter.

You are not the only person there. Others, strangers, blink the sleep from their eyes just as you do. All of them look perplexed as they take in their surroundings.

Beyond the Stone Circle is a meadow of short grasses and shrubs, which quickly gives way to a thick coniferous forest. There’s a chill to the air and spotty clouds dotting across the clear, teal-tinged sky.

At the midpoint of the circle is a cairn. It is tall and densely packed, carved with runes you don’t understand. As you approach, it glows with teal energy, as if reacting to your presence.

You breathe in the fresh air and wait for the dream to end.

You pinch yourself and glance at the others.

Nothing happens.

The dream doesn’t end.

You’re stranded here in the wilderness.