The moon hung low over Umbra Vale, its pale glow shimmering against the glass facades of the city’s towering buildings. Down below, the streets pulsed with life, but high above, on the rooftops, the night belonged to something else.

A shadow moved across the rooftops, swift and deliberate. Nacht darted between chimneys and air vents, the faint hum of the Dream Belt guiding him like a compass. The tension in the air was thick, laced with the familiar static of nightmare energy. Somewhere nearby, a Dream Eater hunted, its influence spreading like oil on water.

A soft click echoed behind him, barely audible over the distant hum of the city. Nacht stopped mid-step, turning his head slightly. He knew that sound: the shutter of a camera.

Nacht: Talena. I thought I told you to stay out of this.

Crouched behind an air vent, Talena lowered her camera just enough to meet his gaze. Her ponytail swayed slightly in the breeze, and her lips curved into a smirk.

Talena: And miss the chance to see you pull some crazy dream ninja moves? Not a chance.

Nacht: This isn’t a story, Talena. It’s dangerous. Beside, everything I've told you is OFF the record.

She stepped out of the shadows, her camera still in hand. The lens glinted faintly under the moonlight.

Talena: Which is why I still have all the footage, but I feel like this is a story worth telling. I think someday, you'll let me tell it. Besides, you might need me. You’re not exactly great at connecting the dots outside of your dream realm.

He gave her a flat look but didn’t argue. She was annoyingly good at uncovering things he didn’t even know he needed to know.

Nacht: Just stay back. I already chased the Dream Eater out of her nightmares. He's here, and if this thing gets close, you run. Got it?

Talena: Yeah, yeah. Got it.

Nacht turned away, his focus returning to the hunt. The faint vibrations of the Dream Belt intensified, signaling that the Dream Eater was nearby.

The rooftops stretched into the distance, an uneven maze of vents, antennas, and rusting fire escapes. Nacht moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning for signs of distortion—unnatural movement, flickering shadows, the faint ripple of nightmare energy.

Then he saw it.

Across the rooftop, the shadows shifted unnaturally, pooling together like liquid tar. A faint metallic creak echoed through the air, followed by the screech of bending steel. The fire escape attached to a nearby building began to twist and distort, its rails elongating like skeletal fingers. From the shadows, a pair of glowing red eyes blinked open, burning with unnatural light.

The Dream Eater emerged fully, its grotesque form fusing with the twisted fire escape. Its body was an amalgamation of corroded metal and sinewy black flesh, its limbs jagged and impossibly long. The creature’s head was an empty void, save for its glowing eyes and a maw lined with jagged, rusted teeth.

It let out a guttural roar, its voice a mix of grinding metal and unearthly howls.

Talena: Oh, that’s disgusting.

Nacht didn’t waste time. He turned the hands on the Dream Belt, and activated it, holding out his arms in the direction of the time, before raising them to strike "midnight". 

Belt: Nacht into Dream.

Nacht: HENSHIN!

A projection of the clock extended outward, and changed into a canopy of energy that engulfed Nacht, forming the suit around him, his jacket billowing in the breeze. 

Kamen Rider Dream: You’ve overstayed your welcome.

The Dream Eater lunged, its elongated limbs slashing through the air. Nacht dodged effortlessly, spinning to deliver a quick strike across its midsection. The uppercut connected, sending a spray of black mist into the night. The creature recoiled, screeching as its form flickered.

Talena: Gotcha. 

Her voice caught the creature’s attention. It turned sharply, its glowing eyes locking onto her. Nacht noticed the shift immediately.

Kamen Rider Dream: Talena, get down!

She barely had time to duck before one of the creature’s limbs lashed out, slicing through the air above her. Dream moved in a blur, closing the distance in a single leap. He swung the Dream Blade in a wide arc, severing the limb before it could strike again.

The creature roared, retreating slightly as black mist poured from its wound.

Kamen Rider Dream: I told you to stay back!

Talena: And miss this? Not a chance.

The Dream Eater screeched, its body convulsing as it gathered itself for another attack. Dream adjusted the hands on his Dream Belt, the faint hum of energy in the air growing stronger.

The creature lunged again, but this time Nacht was ready. He ducked low, spinning to deliver a precise strike to its legs. The kick hit cleanly, and the creature stumbled, its form collapsing partially onto the rooftop.

But it wasn’t finished. With a sudden burst of speed, it launched itself off the edge, landing on a nearby rooftop with a deafening crash. Without hesitation, Dream followed, leaping across the gap with practiced ease.

Talena: Guess we’re not done yet. Just wait for me! This isn't as easy for me at all! *sigh* The things I do for a story!

The chase continued across the rooftops, the city blurring below as the two combatants moved like shadows in the night. The Dream Eater, sensing its prey’s persistence, began to manipulate its surroundings. Vents and pipes twisted, spewing scalding steam into the air. Power lines snapped and lashed out like whips, sparking violently.

Dream dodged the hazards with precision, his focus unwavering. Talena followed from a safe distance, her camera capturing every moment. She could feel the tension in the air, the raw power emanating from both the creature and its pursuer.

The chase ended on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. The Dream Eater turned to face Dream, its body trembling as it prepared for a final assault. The shadows around it thickened, coiling like living smoke.

Dream adjusted the hands on his Dream Belt, the energy in the air crackling with intensity. 

The Dream Eater lunged, its limbs stretching unnaturally as it attacked with all its might. Nacht met the attack head-on, his movements fluid and deliberate. He deflected each strike with the Somnia Shield, and unleashed the Dream Blade, the glowing weapon sending shockwaves through the air with every clash.

Finally, Dream saw his opening. He leaped into the air, the Dream Belt surging with power. He swirled the sword above him, and summoned energy needed to bring about the end. 

Kamen Rider Dream: Sweet dreams. NIGHTMARE SMASHER!

The blow connected, the energy exploding outward in a blinding burst of light. The Dream Eater let out a final, guttural scream as its form shattered into countless shards of black mist, which dissolved into the night.

Talena stepped onto the rooftop, her camera still in hand. She looked around cautiously, making sure the creature was truly gone.

Talena: You really know how to make an exit.

Nacht powered down, turning to face her.

Nacht: You really shouldn’t have been here.

Talena: Someone’s gotta keep you honest. And besides...

She raised her camera, showing him the captured footage.

Talena: I think people are going to want to know about the guy saving their dreams.

Nacht sighed, brushing past her toward the edge of the rooftop.

Nacht: You're the one I'm curious about. I try to look into your mind, and I can't see-

Talena: Hey, you stay out of my mind mister! This is YOUR story.

Nacht: This isn’t a story, Talena. It’s a warning.

With that, he leaped off the rooftop, disappearing into the shadows. Talena stood there for a moment, the cool night air brushing against her face. She lowered her camera, her expression softening.

Talena: Whatever you’re running from... I’ll help you find it.

She turned and headed back toward the street, her mind racing with questions—and a newfound determination.

The flickering light of a dying fluorescent bulb cast uneven shadows across the expansive office. Rows of computers sat dormant, their screens glowing faintly in the darkened space. The Geist Corporation branch office in Umbra Vale was unusually quiet for the hour—too quiet.

Arthur Malvan stood near the window, his back to the room. The aging executive adjusted his tie nervously, his eyes fixed on the city below. The glow of the skyline painted his face in muted hues, but his features were pale, drawn with exhaustion. His fingers twitched at his sides as he muttered under his breath.

Arthur Malvan: This is the only way. The only way to fix it... to make it right.

Behind him, the shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, pooling together on the floor like liquid ink. The temperature in the room dropped suddenly, and the faint hum of the computers became distorted, a low, rhythmic pulse that grew louder with each beat.

Malvan stiffened, his breath visible in the cold air. He didn’t need to turn around to know he wasn’t alone anymore.

Nyxara: No need to talk to yourself Arthur. I'm right here. We're always here...when you close your eyes.

Her voice was smooth, almost musical, but laced with a sharp edge. Malvan turned slowly, his eyes widening as the figure emerged from the shadows. Nyxara stepped into the dim light, her black coat flowing behind her like living smoke. Her glowing red eyes fixed on him, and a cruel smile tugged at her lips.

Malvan: You... you’re not supposed to be here. If they find out I’ve—

Nyxara: Relax, Arthur. No one will know. Not unless you want them to. You're asleep...gently dreaming at your desk. I'm keeping the nightmares at bay. The Dream Eaters...will not come for you.

She glided closer, her movements impossibly graceful. Her presence seemed to distort the air around her, as if the dream scape itself bent to her will. Malvan stumbled back, nearly knocking over a chair as he tried to maintain his composure.

Nyxara: Such nerves. And here I thought you were eager to fix past mistakes. Save the world?

Malvan’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Arthur Malvan: I am. But this..."intervention"... this wasn’t the deal.

From the far corner of the room, another voice spoke, low and deliberate.

Davorian: The deal changed, Arthur.

Malvan’s head snapped toward the shadows, where a second figure emerged. Davorian’s imposing frame was cloaked in darkness, his armor faintly glinting in the dim light. His glowing eyes, identical to Nyxara’s, regarded Malvan with cold amusement.

Davorian: You wanted power. Redemption. This is how you get it.

Nyxara chuckled softly, circling Malvan like a predator sizing up its prey.

Nyxara: Think of it as... an opportunity. You help us open the gate. We give you what you’ve been searching for. Balance. Control. Peace of mind. Correcting the mistakes of the past.

Malvan’s breathing quickened as her words sank in. He had spent years trying to repair the Geist Corporation’s reputation, to undo the damage caused by its darker experiments. And now, he was on the verge of something monumental—something terrifying.

Arthur Malvan: And what happens to the city? To the people?

Nyxara stopped, leaning in close enough that he could feel the chill radiating from her.

Nyxara: They’ll dream forever. Isn’t that beautiful?

Davorian stepped forward, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Davorian: The gate will open, Arthur. With or without you. Your choice is simple: stand with us... or be consumed.

Malvan swallowed hard, his trembling hands reaching for the desk behind him. His eyes flicked toward the faint glow of the company logo etched into the office wall. Geist Corporation. A name once associated with innovation.

Arthur Malvan: Fine. But this better work.

Nyxara smiled, her red eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Nyxara: Oh, it will. You’ll see. Very soon.

As she spoke, the shadows behind her began to writhe and twist, forming shapes that defied logic. The faint sound of whispers filled the room—voices from another realm, distant and malevolent. The darkness seemed to reach out, enveloping Malvan as the room dimmed further.

Nyxara and Davorian stepped back into the shadows, their forms dissolving into the void.

Nyxara: Sweet dreams, Arthur.

The room fell silent, save for the low hum of the computers. Malvan shot awake, and then looked around in a panic. Seeing he was alone, he slumped into his chair, his head in his hands as the weight of his decision pressed down on him.

The glow of Umbra Vale’s skyline flickered faintly, distorted by the subtle ripples of nightmare energy bleeding into reality. The faint sound of whispers grew louder, accompanied by the low hum of the Dream Belt. On the streets below, a man, and his young passenger ride into town on their motorcycle. 




The highway leading into Umbra Vale stretched out ahead, a ribbon of asphalt winding through the misty hills. The city loomed in the distance, its skyline a mix of neon and industrial spires that seemed to shimmer under the late afternoon sun. In a battered old motorcycle—a faithful relic from their travels—Johnathan Angel check his map.  

Johnathan Angel: You’d think a city this big would have a better map to show me where I'm going.

In the passenger seat, Timmy Angel leaned forward, his camera in hand. He snapped a photo of the approaching skyline, the faint glint of excitement in his eyes.

Timothy Angel: Look at this place! It’s huge.

Johnathan Angel: Yeah, well, size isn’t everything. Big cities mean big problems. Keep your expectations realistic, little brother.

Timmy rolled his eyes, flipping through the pictures on his camera.

Timothy Angel: Not everything has to be doom and gloom, you know. We’re here to see the sights, remember? No ghosts, no Death Realm—just normal, touristy fun.

Johnathan glanced over at his brother, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Johnathan Angel: Fun, huh? That why you brought the camera? Planning to make a scrapbook of all the overpriced coffee and street performers?

Timothy Angel: Hey, memories are important!

Johnathan Angel: Yeah, I suppose they are huh? Well don't let me stop you taking pics then. Just keep it pointed at something interesting for me eh? 

The motorcycle rumbled into the city limits, merging into the steady flow of traffic. Umbra Vale was alive with energy—pedestrians hurried along crowded sidewalks, food trucks lined the streets, and the hum of conversation mingled with the occasional blare of car horns. The city had an eclectic charm, equal parts gritty and vibrant.

Timothy Angel: Okay, this is already awesome. Where do we start?

Johnathan Angel: Food. I’m starving.

Timmy pointed eagerly at a bright, colorful district up ahead, where strings of lights crisscrossed the streets and street performers juggled flaming batons.

Timothy Angel: How about there? Looks like some kind of festival.

Johnathan Angel: Looks like a pickpocket’s paradise. But sure, why not?

The two wandered through the district, Timothy snapping photos of anything that caught his eye—brightly colored murals, performers juggling on unicycles, and a musician playing an instrument they couldn’t quite identify. Johnathan trailed behind, munching on a skewer of grilled meat he’d picked up from a food cart.

Timothy Angel: This place is amazing. Why don’t we go to more cities like this?

Johnathan Angel: Because places like this tend to hide the worst kinds of trouble.

Timothy Angel: Or maybe they’re just... I don’t know, fun?

Johnathan smiled, but before he could respond, a voice called out behind them.

Voice: Johnathan Angel?

Both men turned. Standing a few feet away, wearing her signature large glasses and holding a camera bag, was Talena. Her raised eyebrow and faint smirk suggested she wasn’t surprised to see them.

Talena: I thought that was you. You’ve got the "skeptical loner" vibe down to a science.

Johnathan’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head.

Johnathan Angel: Do I know you?

Talena: Not yet. But I know you. You’re the spirit detective from Hanta City, right? Big story a while back. I did my research on Hanta City after the news story broke out about the Kamen Rider.

Timmy nudged his brother, a grin spreading across his face.

Timothy Angel: You’re famous now?

Johnathan Angel: That feels like it was another life, and I'm not sure I can tell you anything you don't already know.

Talena shrugged, slinging her camera bag over her shoulder.

Talena: Maybe not yet. I just have a feeling though. Guys like you don’t show up in places like this without a reason.

Timothy Angel: We’re here to see the sights.

Talena: Oh yeah?

Johnathan crossed his arms, his posture shifting into something more guarded.

Johnathan Angel: And you? Let me guess—journalist?

Talena smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Talena: Investigative journalist, actually. And if you’re here to see the sights, you might want to stick to the safe ones. This city’s got layers, and not all of them are worth exploring. I'm finding that out myself pretty quickly.

Timothy frowned, glancing between the two of them.

Timothy Angel: What’s that supposed to mean?

Talena: Just a friendly warning kid. Some places... some people... aren’t what they seem. But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Angel?

Johnathan’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Talena held up her hands in mock surrender.

Talena: Relax. I’m not here to dig into your past. Just... keep your eyes open while you’re here. Things have a way of getting weird in Umbra Vale.

She turned to leave, her boots clicking softly against the pavement.

Johnathan Angel: Hey, wait! Do you want to grab a coffee or something? You know, since you already know us and all?

Talena paused, glancing back with a faint smirk.

Talena: Another time, maybe. Something tells me we’ll run into each other again.

And with that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Johnathan and Timothy standing in the middle of the bustling street.

Timothy Angel: Well, nice try bro. She seems fun.

Johnathan Angel: Fun like a wasp nest. I feel like I've seen her before. Somewhere fairly recently too. Can't put my finger on it.

Timothy ignored him, adjusting the strap on his camera.

Timothy: So, what’s next? More food? Street performers?

Johnathan sighed, tossing the skewer stick into a nearby trash can.

Johnathan Angel: Let’s just keep walking. It's going to bother me that I can't remember this. Why does she look so familiar?

The two continued down the street, their casual banter mingling with the hum of the city as the camera slowly panned upward, focusing on the towering buildings and flickering neon lights.

High above, unseen by the bustling crowds, a faint ripple distorted the skyline. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—but it was there. The faint hum of nightmare energy vibrated in the air, creeping closer.

The bright, bustling terminal of Umbra Vale International Airport was alive with the hum of travelers—families lugging overpacked suitcases, businessmen rushing to catch flights, and weary tourists navigating kiosks. Among the crowd, Blake Faust strode confidently through the arrivals gate, pulling a sleek leather carry-on behind him. He wore a slightly wrinkled suit, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he didn’t care much for appearances. His grin was as relaxed as ever, despite the weight of his real purpose for being in the city.

Waiting near the gate was a young woman in a crisp Geist Corporation blazer. She carried a tablet under one arm and scanned the crowd with practiced efficiency. Her eyes locked onto Blake immediately, and she hurried over, falling into step beside him as he passed.

Subordinate: Mr. Faust, welcome to Umbra Vale. I trust your flight was comfortable?

Blake glanced at her, his grin widening.

Blake Faust: Comfortable enough. Not enough legroom, but hey, what can you do?

The woman nodded politely, ignoring the small talk as she opened her tablet and began to scroll.

Subordinate: Your itinerary is ready, sir. We’ve arranged a car to take you directly to the branch office. I can brief you on the situation on the way.

Blake held up a hand, cutting her off.

Blake Faust: Let me guess. Off-the-charts energy readings, weird anomalies, and a whole lot of “we have no idea what’s going on, but it’s probably bad.” Sound about right?

The subordinate hesitated before nodding.

Subordinate: That’s... essentially correct. Umbra Vale’s energy signatures have been fluctuating wildly over the past month, and the source appears to be concentrated around our branch office. The local team hasn’t been able to identify the exact cause, but—

Blake waved her off, his pace unchanging as they weaved through the crowd.

Blake Faust: It’s fine. I’ve seen this playbook before. Same song, different city. *sigh* Metro City was bad enough, but at least it didn’t have...the possibilty of history repeating itself.

His grin faded slightly as his eyes drifted toward one of the massive windows overlooking the city skyline. The Geist Corporation building stood tall in the distance, its sleek glass façade reflecting the fading sunlight. There was nothing inherently sinister about the structure itself, but Blake could feel it—the faint hum of energy just beneath the surface, like the growl of a predator waiting to pounce.

Blake Faust: I can still feel it. I'm not there anymore. I'm alive...and yet I feel it, and this one feels different.

Subordinate: Sir?

Blake shook his head, his grin returning.

Blake Faust: Nothing. Let’s get going. I want to see what we’re dealing with before things start exploding.

As they turned toward the exit, a commotion broke out nearby. A woman screamed, clutching at her purse as a man yanked it out of her hands and bolted through the crowd. The thief was fast, weaving skillfully between startled travelers as security guards shouted and gave chase.

Blake stopped in his tracks, tilting his head as he watched the scene unfold.

Subordinate: Sir, we should—

Blake raised a hand, silencing her. His grin widened into something almost mischievous.

Blake Faust: Hold this.

He handed her his carry-on bag and took off after the thief, his long strides quickly closing the gap. The man glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he saw Blake bearing down on him. He picked up speed, but his route was reckless, knocking over a luggage cart and sending a cascade of suitcases tumbling across the floor.

Blake sidestepped the mess effortlessly, his pace never faltering.

Blake Faust: You know, I’ve had a long flight, buddy. I really don’t feel like running today!

The thief didn’t respond, darting toward an open corridor. But just as he rounded the corner, Blake lunged forward, hooking a foot around the man’s ankle and sending him sprawling to the ground. The purse skidded across the floor, stopping at the feet of a bewildered bystander.

Blake stood over the thief, adjusting his tie casually.

Blake Faust: Next time, maybe try a hobby that doesn’t involve embarrassing yourself in public eh?

The man groaned, clutching his knee as a pair of security guards caught up and hauled him to his feet. One of the guards nodded gratefully at Blake.

Security Guard: Thanks for the assist, sir. That was... impressive.

Blake Faust: I have an unfair advantage. I'm just a little superhuman. 

Security Guard: ...Oh? 

Blake shrugged, picking up the purse and turning toward the woman who had been robbed. She stood frozen a few feet away, her hands clutched to her chest.

Blake Faust: Here you go, ma’am. Safe and sound.

The woman stammered out a thanks, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Blake tipped an imaginary hat at her before turning back to his subordinate, who was still standing awkwardly with his carry-on.

Blake Faust: Right. Where were we?

The subordinate stared at him, clearly unsure how to process what she had just witnessed.

Subordinate: You... tackled a thief in the middle of an airport. Aren’t you worried about—?

Blake cut her off with a wave of his hand.

Blake Faust: I'm worried about what's going on at our branch office, and I told my brother and mother I'd handle it. Let's go stomp out a potential nightmare. By the way, what's your name? 

Subordinate: Uh...it's Tilly sir. 

Blake Faust: You got a phone Tilly? I need to call my wife and tell her I'm going to be extremely late for dinner. 

Tilly: You don't have a phone sir?

Blake Faust: A giant stomped on it. 

Tilly: Huh? 

Blake Faust: Let's get going. 

With that, he strode toward the exit, his posture as casual as ever. Tilly hurried to catch up, her tablet tucked tightly against her chest.

The polished glass of the Geist Corporation building shimmered under the city’s night sky as Blake Faust stepped out of the car, his carry-on in one hand and his confidence unshaken. The streets around him were alive with the muted buzz of Umbra Vale’s nightlife, but here, at the foot of Geist’s monolithic tower, the world felt quieter—eerily so.

Blake adjusted his tie, glancing up at the towering building. Its sleek, modern design seemed almost too pristine, as though trying to mask the mess buried beneath its polished surface.

Blake Faust: Always hiding your skeletons, huh, Geist?

Tilly: Sir, I’ve prepared the report on the anomalies for you. It’s on the—uh—encrypted drive in the operations office. Shall we proceed?

Blake grinned, giving her a mock salute.

Blake Faust: Lead the way, Tilly. Let’s see what kind of fireworks your team’s cooked up this time.

As they entered the lobby, Blake couldn’t help but notice how empty it was. Usually, these late-night visits were met with a skeleton crew—security guards, a few night-shift techs—but tonight, the vast space was devoid of life. The sleek reception desk sat unmanned, its surface so spotless it reflected the glow of the overhead lights like a mirror.

Blake turned to Tilly, arching an eyebrow.

Blake Faust: Where is everybody? Did someone declare “work-from-home night” without telling me?

Tilly glanced around, her unease growing.

Tilly: There should be at least three guards here. I... I don’t know where they are.

Blake’s grin faltered slightly. He took a step toward the desk, his sharp eyes scanning the area. The faint hum of the building’s ventilation system filled the silence, accompanied by the subtle vibration of machinery in the floors.

Blake Faust: Something’s off.

Tilly hesitated, clutching her tablet a little tighter.

Tilly: Sir, the energy readings in the building have been—well, erratic. It’s possible the power fluctuations are affecting—

Before she could finish, the lights overhead flickered.

Blake froze, his entire body tensing as the fluorescent panels dimmed, casting the lobby in momentary shadow. The lights returned a second later, but the flicker left a cold weight in his chest.

He turned to Tilly, his grin replaced with something harder, sharper.

Blake Faust: I'm too late. Change of plans. Take me downstairs. Now.

Tilly: Sir, I—are you sure you don’t want to—

Blake Faust: Tilly, trust me. If we don’t stop this now, you’re not going to like what happens next.

As the elevator doors closed around them, Blake leaned back against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed. Tilly stood stiffly beside him, her eyes darting nervously toward the buttons as the car began its descent.

The hum of the elevator was steady at first, a rhythmic vibration that matched the pulse of the building’s energy. But as they went lower, the hum shifted. It grew deeper, more resonant, as though the very structure around them was groaning under some unseen pressure.

Blake clenched his fists, his mind flashing back to Hanta City. Back to the nights he’d spent staring into a swirling abyss, wondering how many more lives Geist’s experiments would ruin before someone finally stopped them.

Blake Faust: Not again.

Tilly glanced at him, her brow furrowed.

Tilly: Sir?

The lights flickered again, longer this time. The elevator shuddered, and for a brief moment, Blake felt the pull of something—something cold and vast, pressing against the edges of reality.

The elevator chimed as it reached the lower levels, and the doors slid open to reveal a long, dimly lit corridor. The faint vibration of machinery was stronger here, accompanied by a low, rhythmic hum that resonated in Blake’s chest.

Blake Faust: Stay here. If you see anything weird, run. And I mean run.

Before Tilly could respond, Blake strode down the corridor, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Blake walked down the corridor, his shoes tapping against the sleek, polished floor. The air grew colder with every step, the hum of machinery intensifying as he neared the operations chamber. His senses were on high alert, every flicker of shadow or distant sound setting him further on edge.

He paused at a heavy, reinforced door at the end of the hall. A faint, eerie glow seeped through the edges, casting strange patterns on the walls. The hum was loudest here, vibrating in his chest like a second heartbeat.

He pushed the door open, stepping into the massive chamber. The scene before him was both familiar and deeply unsettling.

At the center of the room, a swirling vortex of black and violet energy dominated the space, suspended within a metallic frame that crackled with raw power. The edges of the vortex rippled like liquid, and faint whispers echoed from its depths, their words unintelligible but filled with malice.

Arthur Malvan was on his knees in front of the gate, his head tilted back and his arms outstretched. His face was a mask of awe and desperation, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared into the abyss.

Arthur Malvan : I did it. I opened it. The gate... it’s beautiful.

Blake approached slowly, his fists clenching at his sides.

Blake Faust: Arthur Malvan! Step away from the gate.

The older man flinched, his trance broken. He turned to face Blake, his expression shifting from awe to panic.

Arthur Malvan: Blake? I mean, Mr. Faust! I—I didn’t know you were coming! I haven't seen you since the incident. You look exactly...the same?

Blake stopped a few feet away, his eyes locked on the vortex. The whispers seemed louder now, filling the room with an oppressive weight. He pointed at the swirling energy, his voice low and sharp.

Blake Faust: You worked with my father on this project, and got shipped away when it went bad. It went bad for a reason, and it's not one you can fix. Shut it down. Right now.

Malvan hesitated, glancing back at the gate.

Arthur Malvan: You don’t understand. This is progress. Real progress. The energy readings are stable—stronger than anything we’ve ever

Blake Faust: Stable? You call this stable? That thing is bleeding into reality, Malvan. Do you have any idea what you’ve just unleashed?!

Before Malvan could respond, the lights flickered again. The room plunged into darkness for a heartbeat before the glow of the gate illuminated the space. The whispers grew louder, almost mocking, and Blake felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Blake Faust: Shut it down. Now.

Malvan looked back at the gate, his hands trembling.

Arthur Malvan: I... I can’t. The system is locked. It—it won’t respond.

Blake cursed under his breath, stepping forward. He reached for the control panel beside the gate, but before he could touch it, a low, mocking laugh echoed through the chamber. Tilly, the assistant that brought Blake to the basement disappeared into the shadows, and reappeared as Nyxara. 

Nyxara: Oh, Blake. Always so impatient.

Blake froze, his hand hovering over the controls. Slowly, he turned toward the source of the voice. Nyxara stepped out of the shadows, her movements smooth and deliberate. Her dark coat flowed behind her like living smoke, and her glowing red eyes burned with amusement.

Nyxara: You always think you can fix everything, don’t you? Charge in, bark a few orders, and the world goes back to normal.

Blake straightened, his jaw tightening as he met her gaze.

Blake: You...I remember you.

Nyxara smirked, her eyes flicking toward the gate.

Nyxara: A blast from the past? You and I met in a place where nightmares are born, and we're all going back there soon enough. Arthur and I have worked very hard to make this moment happen.

Malvan flinched, his head snapping toward Nyxara.

Arthur Malvan: Wait what?! You—you lied to me. You said—

Nyxara: I said what you needed to hear, Arthur. Don’t act so surprised. You wanted vindication, and I gave it to you. Look, it works! You just didn't think through what that would mean.

Blake stepped between Malvan and Nyxara, his tone sharp.

Blake Faust: Whatever game you’re playing, it stops now.

Nyxara’s smile widened, her voice dripping with mockery.

Nyxara: Oh, Blake. Always so noble. But this isn’t a game. It’s a masterpiece. And you’re just another piece on the board.

Before Blake could respond, she raised her hand, dark energy swirling around her fingers. She thrust her palm forward, and a wave of force slammed into Blake, sending him stumbling backward. He caught himself just before he tumbled into the gate.

The whispers from the vortex grew louder, almost triumphant. Blake felt a cold pull at his back, as though the gate itself was reaching for him.

Blake Faust: You’re gonna regret that.

He pulled his Driver from his coat, the device humming to life as he prepared to transform. But before he could activate it, Nyxara moved with blinding speed. She grabbed his arm, her grip like iron, and shoved him backward—straight toward the gate.

The cold was immediate, piercing through Blake’s body as he stumbled into the swirling energy. He fought to pull himself back, his boots scraping against the floor, but the pull was too strong. The whispers turned to laughter, cruel and mocking, as he was dragged closer.

On the other side of the vortex, the shadows shifted. A figure emerged, their features hazy and indistinct. But as they stepped closer, their identity became clear.

Blake’s eyes widened, his struggles halting for a moment.

Blake Faust: Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

The figure smirked, their voice dripping with mockery.

?: Miss me?

Before Blake could respond, the figure reached through the vortex. Their hand passed through the swirling energy, grabbing Blake by the collar. The pull was sudden and violent, yanking his soul out of his body and dragging it into the Death Realm.

Blake’s body crumpled to the floor, motionless.

The world around Nacht was a swirling cascade of colors and sounds, a surreal symphony of everything and nothing all at once. He floated weightlessly, suspended in the endless expanse of the Dream Realm. The air shimmered with an ethereal glow, streaks of gold and silver intertwining with deep blues and violets. It was beautiful—hauntingly so—but there was a tension in the air, a sense that this peace was fleeting.

From the distance came a faint hum, low and rhythmic, growing louder with each passing second. Nacht turned toward the sound, and the shimmering expanse parted before him, giving way to a towering figure cloaked in light.

The Somnarch.

The Dreamkeeper stood motionless, their form both humanoid and otherworldly. Their golden mask was expressionless, yet it radiated a sense of infinite wisdom and power. Around them floated the Dreamkeepers—smaller, shimmering figures, each one glowing faintly with an aura of calm and purpose.

Somnarch: Nacht. It's up to you.

The words echoed through the space, each syllable reverberating in Nacht’s chest. He took a hesitant step forward, his boots touching solid ground that hadn’t existed a moment before.

Nacht: To do what?

The Somnarch raised a hand, and the space around them shifted. Scenes of humanity played out in vivid detail—people laughing, crying, dreaming. The world of the Awake blurred into the fantastical tapestry of the Dream Realm, the two woven together in perfect harmony.

Somnarch: To protect the bridge between worlds. To bring dreams to those who have forgotten how to dream. To shield humanity from the darkness that festers in its own mind.

The Dreamkeepers floated closer, their movements slow and deliberate. One of them extended a glowing hand, and in it appeared the Dream Driver—a sleek, otherworldly belt that pulsed with a faint light.

Dreamkeeper: The Dream Driver will grant you the power to walk between worlds. To confront the nightmares that plague humanity.

Nacht hesitated, his gaze shifting between the Driver and the Somnarch.

Nacht: Why me?

The Somnarch’s golden mask tilted slightly, their voice softening.

Somnarch: Because-

Nacht jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. The cool night air of Umbra Vale rushed to greet him, a sharp contrast to the warm glow of the Dream Realm. He sat up, his body tense as the remnants of the dream lingered in his mind.

He was on a rooftop, the city sprawling below him in a sea of glittering lights. The faint hum of traffic and the distant buzz of voices reached his ears, but something felt... wrong. There was a weight in the air, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on his chest like an invisible force.

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. Dreams were nothing new to him—he lived in them as much as he did in the real world. But this one was different. The Somnarch’s voice echoed in his mind, the words looping like a haunting refrain.

Protect the bridge. Bring dreams to the people. It was a vivid memory. That memory gave way to a thought. He hadn't slept that long since the chase began, because they were always not too far away, and yet now he had been sleeping, meaning they were up to something. 

A sudden, sharp vibration ran through him, snapping him out of his thoughts. It wasn’t physical—it was deeper, like a ripple in the fabric of reality itself. Nacht stood, his coat billowing around him as he scanned the horizon. From his vantage point, the city looked peaceful, but the sensation in his chest told a different story.

He looked down at the apartments across the street, his sharp eyes catching movement behind the windows. Inside, people tossed and turned in their beds, their faces contorted in fear. Then, almost in unison, their mouths opened in silent screams.

Nacht’s breath hitched. He leapt to the edge of the roof, crouching low as he peered closer. The scene was the same in every window—people writhing in their sleep, their expressions frozen in terror.

Nacht: What the hell is happening?

The vibrations grew stronger, pulsing through him like a second heartbeat. He clutched the Dream Driver at his waist, the device humming faintly in response. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal. This wasn’t just a bad dream—it was something worse.

He straightened, his jaw tightening as he surveyed the city. The feeling in his chest was growing stronger, more urgent, and he knew he couldn’t ignore it. Somewhere, something had shifted. Something was wrong with the bridge between worlds.

With a fluid motion, he leapt from the rooftop, disappearing into the shadows of the city below.

Johnathan Angel stood at the edge of an overlook, leaning on the rusted railing as the lights of Umbra Vale stretched out before him. The city hummed with its usual night sounds—cars honking, distant chatter, the faint rhythm of music drifting from open windows. But something about tonight felt wrong. The air was heavy, laden with a subtle pressure that prickled at the back of his neck.

Behind him, Timothy fiddled with his camera, snapping photos of the skyline. He adjusted the focus, his brows furrowing as he stared through the lens.

Timothy Angel: Hey, big brother. Do the lights look... weird to you?

Johnathan turned, his hands still on the railing.

Johnathan Angel: Weird how?

Timothy held out the camera, pointing toward the center of the city. Johnathan squinted, his breath catching. The glow of the city lights wasn’t as steady as it should have been. They flickered faintly, as if struggling against some unseen force. Above them, a canopy of shadow seemed to spread across the sky, tendrils of darkness twisting and coiling like living smoke.

Johnathan’s grip tightened on the railing. The sight dredged up memories he’d spent years trying to bury. The shadowy expanse reminded him of Legion—the entity that had once tried to break into their world through sheer force of will. That same suffocating presence hung in the air now, pressing against his chest like an iron weight.

Johnathan Angel: Oh no. This can’t be happening again.

Timothy lowered the camera, stepping closer to his brother.

Timothy Angel: What’s wrong? You’ve got that “I know something you’re not telling me” face again.

Before Johnathan could respond, a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air. Both brothers whipped around, their eyes locking on a figure sprawled on the sidewalk below. A homeless man lay twisted in his sleeping bag, his body convulsing as if caught in the throes of a nightmare.

Timothy took a step forward, his voice uncertain.

Timothy Angel: Is he okay?

Johnathan raised a hand, stopping him.

Johnathan Angel: Stay back.

The man’s body stilled for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, without warning, his mouth opened in a silent scream, and an inky black shape erupted from his chest. The shadow twisted and stretched, solidifying into a monstrous form. Its body was amorphous, shifting between sharp angles and smooth curves, its glowing red eyes fixed hungrily on the two brothers.

Timothy Angel: What is that?!

Johnathan Angel: A BIG problem.

Johnathan stepped in front of Timothy, his hand instinctively reaching for his pocket. He pulled out the small, compact device that had become a part of him—the Soul Driver. Its faint glow reassured him, even as the creature let out a guttural screech and lunged toward them.

Johnathan Angel: Timothy, run!

Timothy Angel: I’m not leaving you!

Johnathan Angel: Timothy, now!

Reluctantly, Timothy backed away, his steps hesitant before he turned and bolted down the street. Johnathan wished he could transform, but instead stuff the driver back into his pocket and looked for something to fight with, however before he could the Dream Eater struck. Its shadowy limbs lashed out, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Johnathan grunted, rolling to avoid the next strike. The Dream Eater loomed over him, its shape twisting and growing more menacing with each passing second.

Johnathan Angel: I can't die like this! Timothy needs me!

He lunged for the Driver, but the creature was faster. One of its limbs slammed into his chest, sending him skidding across the pavement. He gasped for air, his vision blurring as the creature advanced.

And then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice rang out.

?: Johnny boy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!

Johnathan blinked, his eyes locking onto the translucent form sprinting toward him. It was unmistakably Blake Faust—his hair as disheveled as ever, his cocky grin firmly in place. The ghostly figure slid to a stop beside him, crouching down as if completely unbothered by the monstrous Dream Eater.

Johnathan Angel: Blake? What... what the hell are you doing here? Why are you dead again?!

Blake smirked, glancing over his shoulder at the advancing creature.

Blake Faust: Long story, but let’s save the existential crisis for later. Right now, you’ve got bigger problems.

Johnathan pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he clutched his side.

Johnathan Angel: No kidding. What’s your excuse?

Blake Faust: Alright fine, long story short? Got yanked into the Death Realm AGAIN!. Not a fan! I'm REALLY lucky I ran into you! I need your help!

Johnathan gestured toward the Dream Eater, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Johnathan Angel: Oh, sure. Let me just pencil you in between getting mauled by that thing and bleeding out.

Blake Faust: We've got this! Now quit complaining and pull out your lens!

Johnathan stared at him, incredulous.

Johnathan Angel: Thought we were done with this!

The Dream Eater let out another screech, its limbs coiling like serpents as it prepared to strike. Johnathan gritted his teeth, reaching into his jacket to pull out the Soul lens. The small, glass-like object shimmered faintly in his hand, its surface etched with intricate runes.

Blake stepped back, holding the Soul Driver out toward him.

Blake Faust: You know how this works. Sync it up, and let’s swap places.

The Dream Eater lunged, its body a mass of writhing shadows. Johnathan slammed the lens into the Driver, the device flaring to life with a burst of light.

Belt: THROUGH THE LENS OF LIFE, I FACE DEATH. 

Johnathan Angel: HENSHIN!

The world around them seemed to ripple as the lens activated. Blake’s ghostly form solidified, his body snapping back into the physical world with a jolt of energy. At the same time, Johnathan felt a sudden, violent pull as his vision blurred, and the cold, oppressive weight of the Death Realm pressed down on him. The armor enveloped Blake in slow motion, as the energy pulled from the Death Realm gave birth to life, that of Kamen Rider Soul.

Belt: Riding the line between life and death. This is Kamen Rider Soul.

Kamen Rider Soul: Let’s dance.




The Dream Eater lunged toward Kamen Rider Soul, its amorphous body twisting and contorting as jagged limbs extended toward him. The creature’s glowing red eyes burned with primal hunger, and its guttural screeches echoed off the city’s walls like a banshee’s wail.

Blake, now fully transformed into Kamen Rider Soul, rolled his neck, his armor glinting in the faint light of the nearby streetlamp. The black-and-silver suit hugged his frame, its design sleek and menacing, with the Soul Driver glowing faintly at his waist.

Kamen Rider Soul: All that noise, and you’re still just an overgrown shadow puppet. Let’s see if you can keep up.

The creature struck, its limbs slashing toward him like serrated whips. Soul ducked low, the asphalt cracking under the weight of the Dream Eater’s attack. He sprang forward, his armored boot connecting with one of the creature’s limbs in a powerful side kick. The blow sent ripples through its inky body, forcing it to recoil with a deafening screech.

Kamen Rider Soul: Not bad for a two time dead man, huh?

The Dream Eater retaliated, its body shifting and splitting into multiple tendrils that lashed out in every direction. Soul weaved through the barrage with fluid precision, his movements honed by experience. One tendril grazed his shoulder, sparks flying as it scraped against his armor, but he pressed forward, using the momentum to spin into a low sweep kick that severed one of the tendrils entirely.

The severed limb dissolved into black mist, but the creature quickly reformed, its amorphous body twisting into a more defined, humanoid shape. It stood upright now, towering over Soul with a distorted grin stretching across its face.

Kamen Rider Soul: Oh, good. You have a face now. That gives me a target!

The Dream Eater lunged again, faster and more aggressive this time. Soul sidestepped the attack, delivering a series of rapid punches to its core. Each strike sent bursts of light rippling through the creature’s body, destabilizing it momentarily. But before he could follow up, the creature’s limbs reformed, slamming into him with enough force to send him skidding across the street.

Soul rolled to a stop, planting a hand on the ground to steady himself. His helmet’s HUD flickered briefly as he analyzed the creature’s movements.

Kamen Rider Soul: Adaptive. Great. Just what I needed. This isn't a normal Wraith. In fact, it might not be a Wraith at all!

The creature didn’t wait, charging forward with relentless speed. Soul barely had time to recover before it was on him, its limbs crashing down like hammers. He blocked the first strike with his forearm, sparks flying as the impact rattled his armor. The second strike he deflected with a swift upward kick, but the third caught him square in the chest, sending him crashing into a nearby lamppost.

The lamppost bent under the impact, its light flickering as Soul pushed himself to his feet. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, the glow of the Soul Driver pulsing faintly.

Kamen Rider Soul: Okay, big guy. Playtime’s over.

He adjusted the settings on the Driver, the lens shifting as energy began to gather around him. The faint hum of the transformation sequence grew louder, and the air around him shimmered with power.

Belt: THROUGH THE LENS OF FIRE, I BLAZE.

With a burst of fire, Soul’s armor shifted, glowing with vibrant energy as he entered his powered-up form. The lines of his suit burned bright, and his gauntlets crackled with raw power.

The Dream Eater hesitated for the first time, its red eyes narrowing as it assessed the new threat.  Blazing Soul grinned under his helmet, his confidence returning.

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: What’s the matter? Afraid of a little fire?

He dashed forward, moving faster than before. The Dream Eater lashed out with its tendrils, but Blazing Soul was a blur, dodging each strike with effortless precision. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his fist glowing as he delivered a devastating punch to the creature’s core. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through its body, causing it to stagger backward with a howl of pain.

Blazing Soul didn’t let up. He followed with a spinning kick that severed another tendril, then slammed his gauntlet into the ground, creating a shockwave that destabilized the creature further. The black mist that formed its body began to dissipate, its form flickering and unstable.

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: Not so tough now, are you?

But the Dream Eater wasn’t finished. It let out a guttural roar, its body expanding as it absorbed the surrounding shadows. The mist coiled around it, forming massive, spiked limbs that lashed out in every direction. One of the spikes struck the ground near Blazing Soul, sending chunks of asphalt flying into the air.

Blazing Soul dodged and countered, using the momentum of the flying debris to vault over the creature’s attack. He landed on its back, driving his glowing gauntlet into the center of its body. The creature screamed, its form convulsing as it tried to shake him off. Blazing Soul unleashed the upgraded Geist Energy Sword and sliced an X into the fabric of reality in front of him. He tapped his belt to charge the aperture, and rushed the X with his knee sending it flying towards the Dream Eater.

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: BLAZING CROSS!

The attack overwhelmed the Dream Eater, as it's high pitched scream was soon silenced with blazing fire. 

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: That's why you don't play with fire.

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul waited for the energy from the Wraith to enter the aperture, but something was different. This time, nothing came from the destroyed creature. 

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: Huh...well that's different. Johnny boy, do you see anything?

Johnathan Angel: Not on my end. He didn't appear in spectral form either. 

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: Huh. That's...that's new. 

Johnathan Angel: You mind if we switch back? 

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: I'd really rather no-

Johnthan Angel: BLAKE! 

Kamen Rider Blazing Soul: Alright! Alright already! Jeez!

Blazing Soul deactivated his transformation, and Blake returned to the Death Realm, while Johnathan appeared in the living realm. 

Johnathan Angel: What was that? What is going on? What are you doing here? 

Blake Faust: ...It's nice to see you too buddy! 

Johnathan Angel: It would be nice to see you, if you WEREN'T A GHOST! 

Blake Faust: Oh yeah, that whole thing. You think Ashley's gonna be mad? 

Johnathan Angel: What happened? 

Blake Faust: I was in the city to investigate the branch office of Geist. The energy levels were off the charts. The place was run by a guy named Arthur Malvan. He worked with my father way back on the Death Gate project. He had these weird theories about the Death Realm also being the place nightmares took place. 

Johnathan Angel: What? That sounds-

Blake Faust: Accurate?! You're telling me. I went to confront him and then-

Johnathan Angel: And then?

Blake Faust: ...I don't remember. 

Johnathan Angel: What?

Blake Faust: It's happening. I'm already starting to forget. I need you to help me get back to my body. 

Johnathan Angel: Where is it? 

Blake Faust: ...

Johnathan Angel: Alright, let's think like detectives here. Where were you going? 

Blake Faust: The uh...the branch office! I was going to the branch office! 

Johnathan Angel: Then I just need to find the Geist Corporation Brance Office! I just...don't know where it is? Do you?

Blake Faust: I...PROBABLY did, but-

Johnathan Angel: Right. *sigh* This is just great. How am I going to-

?: I know where it is.

Johnathan Angel: Huh?

Johnathan turned to see a woman approaching with a camera around her neck. She was joined by his little brother Timothy. 

Talena: I know exactly how to get there, but first, I want to know what the hell I just saw! You're not Kamen Rider Dream! 

Blake Faust: Who? Oh wait, she can't hear me. I'm an idiot!

The cool night breeze rustled through the trees of Alder Grove Park, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. The park was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the soft trickle of water from the central fountain. Umbra Vale’s distant city lights shimmered through the branches, casting long, flickering shadows over the cobblestone paths.

Nacht perched on the branch of a tall oak tree near the edge of the park, his coat blending seamlessly into the darkness. His sharp eyes scanned the empty benches and winding trails below, searching for any sign of trouble. The hum of the Dream Belt at his waist was faint but persistent, like a heartbeat just out of rhythm.

Nacht: It feels like I'm surrounded by it. It's everywhere. It's all over Umbra Vale.

He leaned back against the trunk, letting the stillness settle over him. His gaze drifted to a couple seated on a bench near the fountain. They were young, probably in their early twenties, with their arms wrapped around each other as they leaned back and gazed at the stars. But then he noticed they weren't gazing, they were sleeping. Their movements became erratic. The man’s hand slipped from the woman’s shoulder, hanging limply at his side. Their breathing became shallow and uneven.

Nacht: No way...

Before he could act, the couple’s bodies jerked violently, their limbs convulsing as if gripped by unseen forces. A low, guttural growl filled the air, and the shadows around the bench began to twist and writhe.

Nacht: Two of them?!

He landed silently on the cobblestones, his boots barely making a sound. The Dream Belt pulsed urgently now, the hum growing louder as he sprinted toward the bench. He reached for the hilt of the Dream Blade strapped to his back, the weapon humming faintly as it responded to his touch.

The couple’s bodies stilled for a brief moment, their mouths opening in silent screams. Then, with a deafening roar, two massive shapes burst forth from their chests, shrouded in tendrils of black mist. The Dream Eaters towered over Nacht, their forms grotesque and ever-shifting. One resembled a twisted amalgamation of branches and bone, its spiked limbs stretching unnaturally, shades of red and green all over its form. The other was a serpentine monstrosity, its long, coiled body covered in jagged scales that shimmered with dark energy, with a oddly violet and pinkish hue. 

Nacht: What are you two doing here? I didn't rip you out of their minds, and no way you were able to draw enough energy!

The Dream Eaters turned toward him, their glowing red eyes locking onto their new target. With a synchronized screech, they lunged.

Nacht rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the serrated limb of the first creature as it slammed into the cobblestones, sending shards of stone flying. He sprang to his feet as he faced his opponents.

Nacht: All right, let’s make this quick. Then I need answers.

He reached for the Dream Belt, his fingers adjusting the clock face on its surface. The device pulsed with energy, the hands spinning rapidly as the air around him seemed to shimmer.

Belt: Nacht into Dream.

A burst of light enveloped him, illuminating the park in brilliant gold and violet hues. His coat transformed into a sleek, armored suit, its dark material glinting with intricate patterns of glowing silver and blue. The Dream Blade appeared, its hilt elongating as the blade grew brighter, humming with raw power.

When the light faded, Kamen Rider Dream stood in Nacht’s place, his armor exuding an aura of calm yet overwhelming presence.

Kamen Rider Dream: I'm the nightmare for nightmares. Ready to wake up?

Last edited by Machismo (12/20/2024 5:03 am)