It was the same dream Adam'd had several times over the past few weeks, the one where he was moving to some new town and he stopped in to some cafe or milk bar (he wasn't quite sure which). He also always had a pet koala in it, something he didn't understand at all.
He didn't mind this dream though, not at all. This dream included the man who looked a lot like Ryan, and that was certainly a good thing as far as he was concerned. He was still unable to tell Ryan how he felt, largely because the koala would often pee on him before he got the chance, but he'd come close a couple of times.
This night he entered the milk bar (it most certainly looked like a milk bar this time) and found Ryan dressed in the waiter uniform that was just a little tight around his muscular body. Ryan gave Adam a smile and a look that said 'I'll get to you soon' as the man-made his way towards a booth, his pet koala still attached firmly to his left arm.
As he took a seat the koala clambered onto the table to sit in the middle like a furry ornament, and Adam tried his hardest to determine whether it had a name or not. He picked up a menu and glanced it over, all too aware that the words upon it were gibberish even as he knew what each of them said as though that knowledge was simply part of him.
"Hey, you new around here?"
Adam turned his head to find Ryan beside him, a bright smile upon his face as his eyes twinkled as if there were stars behind them. Adam felt his body melt a little bit into his seat, although compared to real-life he was able to quickly find his words.
"Y-yeah, moving in today. Nice town. Didn't realize it was so close to the ocean."
"It should be, it's your home."
"Ever have any problems with the deep people?"
"Only every fortnight or so," Ryan said with an even wider smile. "Know what you want?"
Adam nodded eagerly. "Toast with a side of olives."
Ryan let out a laugh that reverberated the air. "Of course, of course. Be right back." As Ryan headed for the kitchen he glanced back and tossed out a "Good luck with your car!"
Adam blinked at him, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card for what was obviously an auto-repair place given the metallic design despite there being no words upon it. He glanced out the window to his car as black smoke billowed from the engine. That was right, the car breaking down was why he'd pulled into the milk bar in the first place.
As he placed the card down upon the table before him his eyes trailed over to his koala, which had now found itself in the middle of the floor with a steadily growing pool of yellow liquid beneath it. He shook his head with a soft laugh, he could only hope it wasn't difficult for Ryan to clean up.
Without warning the world suddenly erupted around Adam as he was thrown from his seat amidst the vicious hail that was the glass that had once made up the windows. He slammed into the floor so hard that his mind suddenly became aware of where he was, within his own dream.
"Wh-wh-wha...?" he choked as he struggled to push himself up with shaky arms.
The soft jingle of the bell attached to the door came to his ears and he glanced across just as a figure clad in a black tactical outfit complete with a gas mask and goggles, and topped off with a tattered, deep orange cloak that hung halfway down their back. In their right hand they held onto a long machine gun with a pan magazine on top that they rested against their shoulder.
As he watched they turned and pulled a bulky, rounded pistol from their belt, from which they fired several blasts of energy back out the door from where they'd come.
"Persistent little bastards," the figure mumbled in a distinctly feminine voice. Their head then snapped to Adam and he froze in place upon the floor under the gaze from behind those round goggles. "Sorry 'bout all this. I'm sure this was a happy little milk bar dream, but I'm kinda in a hurry."
The figure then strode over to him and crouched as they holstered their strange pistol, then gently placed their index and middle fingers against his forehead. A pain cut through his brain like he'd been stabbed in the head with a heated rod, and he suddenly jerked upright.
As a choked scream escaped his throat he blinked at the darkness about him, and the surroundings he could just make out through it. He was back in his room, awake after he'd awoken from the dream that had been stranger than usual. A small breath of relief slipped past his lips.
"Thanks for the ride," a voice said that caused his chest to tighten as he glanced to the figure that stood beside his bed as they cracked their neck. "Now, tell me where the fuck I am and where I can find a mother-fucker named Darktruth."
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Excerpt from Dr. Kiara Davis' 'Dreamscape'
When I first developed my fascination with dreams when I was a child I never expected they would lead to the study of quantum mechanics and the work of Dr. Reed Richards, and yet that is exactly where I ended up. I was always interested in my dreams as a little girl, always looking for what they meant, and I just as eagerly wanted to learn about the dreams of my friends and family. Naturally, this led me to a study of neurology, the human brain should hold all the answers to my question after all.
It wasn't until my final year of college that I realized I may not be searching in the right place, not entirely anyway. I had always had repetitive dreams; the same places, people, and sometimes events. But while on a trip home one year I stopped in at a small Texan town called 'Camilla', a place I had passed on my other journies both home and back to college before but had never had the thought to stop in at before.
You can imagine my surprise then to learn that I knew the town, quite vividly in fact. Some things were different, but all the major pieces were as I knew them. Yet, I shouldn't know them. I had never been there before, and it was a town with no notable landmarks or fame so I would have had no reason to see it before. It wasn't until I stopped in at a local diner that I suddenly realized how I knew it, I had dreamed of Camilla, Texas. Many times in fact.
They were vivid dreams, where I knew the town. Lived there. I found that I knew it just as well as if I did live there in real life. I could even recall a memory of the tree in the park where I used to play with my dog as a kid. Except I've never had a dog. That memory must have been a dream as well. Or was it?
My brain began to fire neurons like crazy as I began to realize I had approached the entire situation wrong. The brain was important to dreams, of course, but it was only a part of the puzzle. So I moved my focus to physics, quantum mechanics. I made sure I knew everything I needed to know.
Now, this might seem like a strange pivot, and I'm certain most readers will not believe me even after I explain it all. But I implore you to stick with me until the end, it will make sense.
A lot of people have dreams that feel so real that they're surprised when they wake up. Here's the thing, those dreams are real. Completely. In fact, every dream is. Every single dream you've ever had in your life has been real, and I don't mean in a philosophical or spiritual way.
You see, it turns out that our dreams, those things we do every night, are our own personal gateways to the multiverse.
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Krakoa
It was difficult to ignore the look of discomfort upon his face, no matter how much she wanted them both to simply be able to enjoy the night. Ever since she had greeted him at the gate she hadn't been able to ignore the expression that gripped him, the one that she knew meant that he was trying very hard to quiet some kind of worry within himself.
The part that she disliked most was that she wasn't sure whether she was more worried about whatever it was that concerned him, or more annoyed that it meant he hadn't paid even the slightest attention to the dress she wore (a long and flowy thing that hung off her shoulders, a light and natural green), though it may be a bit much to expect him to pay attention to fashion given he arrived in a trench-coat and cowboy hat. Perhaps she was simply both, he was certainly a man that it was easy to be both worried about and aggravated by at the same time.
As she led him through the crowd that was already in high-gear party mode she wondered if perhaps she should simply ask him what was wrong. She was certain the answer was Krakoa, so much so that she almost felt guilty for asking him to the party; even if he had said he would move to the island she knew that he wasn't completely committed to the idea. She only wished she could simply know why, it seemed to her that anybody should jump at the chance to live in a paradise.
He had always been a tricky man to understand she had to concede. Even when he wasn't lying he never told the entire truth, at least not about the things that mattered most. He would freely throw out random things, the kinds of truths most people would prefer to leave hidden. She knew that was a game of sorts, he had told her once when they'd sat on the shore of Utopia so long ago, "when you freely tell people things they wouldn't want told they don't really think you've got anything left to hide".
She'd always meant to ask what the things were that he would prefer not to tell, though she never expected him to actually tell her. He'd lied to her before, many times, and hidden things from her as well, even more times. Yet there was something about this idea that made her feel it was different, these weren't simply lies or truths he didn't tell this was him actively trying to distract, both others and himself, from the things he didn't want to say. That always made her feel cold, the idea that no matter how open he was in conversation with her it was only to stop her from digging too much deeper and finding the true him.
That was why her heart flared with warmth when she felt his hand take hers as he followed, gripped her tenderly. Words were tricky, fickle, deceptive things that could muddy whatever it was they were meant to say, but his touch was always true, always told her what he was truly thinking. No matter what was going on in his head she could tell by the way he entangled his fingers with hers that he was happy to be there with her, and that was enough for her right then.
She smiled to herself and made a direct course for the nearest cluster of mutants that led the music to sweep them into dance, the kind of dance that showed they had no cares except to enjoy themselves. When at last they were in the center of the group she turned to find his eyes locked upon her. He smiled warmly and she could see him fight down his concerns, those thoughts that plagued him. Once she was sure that he was entirely there with her she began to move, arms in the air as she began to shake herself so her dress swung back and forth upon her petite form and smiled when he began to join her.
For as long as she had known him Darktruth had always maintained that he was not a dancer; his actions did support this statement, for whenever he did do his version of dancing it was hardly more than some awkward movements that ended as quickly as they began. Yet tonight she could most confidently say that he danced. It was not the most spectacular thing certainly, she was almost certain that nobody in the world, aside from herself, could look upon it and be impressed. She was certainly impressed. For him, it was the most open, free, pure dance that he had ever performed and she was overjoyed that she was there to experience it.
She danced fingers through the hair of his beard, then lifted off the ground with a flutter of wings to plant a soft kiss upon his lips before she landed to resume her dance once more. He watched for a moment before he smiled and took her hand back into his so their dances could become one.
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Newcastle
Amira let out a long breath as rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes stung from hours of staring at screens. Her father had always told her that she would hurt her eyes if she stared at them too much and she had always brushed him off, yet right now she was fairly certain he was right.
The thought made her wince, thinking of her father. She should visit him, and her mother too, soon. It had been a long time since she'd made the trip and she was sure Darktruth wouldn't mind if she took some time to do it. She really needed to make sure their graves were kept clean, her mother would have thrown a fit if they weren't.
She could ask Allison if she wanted to join her. They weren't on the best of terms, but she'd always expressed an interest in visiting them. Maybe she should just call her?
Amira swallowed as her eyes glanced over her phone upon the desk. It would be so simple, just dial and talk. If she even answered. If she didn't she could just leave a message, let her know what was going on. She at least owed her that.
She snatched the phone up from the desk, then swiftly shoved it into a drawer and closed it in. She didn't need that kind of thing, not at that moment. She'd talk to Allison soon, she promised herself, just not quite yet. Instead, she turned her eyes to the letters Darktruth had left with her and scanned the name upon the oldest envelope.
"Hey, Cody! What's Darktruth's real name?" she called out.
There was a moment of pause. "Blake I think. Something Blake. Michael?"
"Mitchell?"
"Yeah, could be."
She chewed her lip as she picked it up and pulled the letter within free of the envelope, only to quickly toss it down as a form appeared around the corner of the movable wall.
"Why ya wanna know?" Cody asked as he crossed his arms.
"Just curious."
"Heh, yeah that ain't it. You looking into his background? Because I can tell you it isn't nice." He hesitated a moment. "If you really wanna know anything you could just ask me. Or him. Though I'd bet no matter what you ask you'd only get a bunch of gibberish in response."
She cracked her neck. "I know enough. Allison's told me before, mostly as a warning to not get involved in any of his crazy."
"Bet she'd be real proud of you right now."
"Oh, absolutely. But no, I'm not digging into his history. He just asked me to look into something and I thought I saw his name. Not him though."
An eyebrow rose slowly up Cody's forehead as he scrutinized her. "Y'know, we don't actually have any work to do. Even if we did I don't know why we each need our own computer, seems excessive. But, my point is, the mutants shouldn't be the only ones who get to enjoy themselves. There's a whole moderately sized city out there for us to enjoy."
"I don't drink," she tossed out before he went too far down that path.
"Then I'll drink for you," he replied with a laugh. "Who needs to drink? We can just enjoy ourselves. Go eat a nice meal, take in some sights. I've heard the church looks really nice at night."
Her eyes jumped to her screen as an alert from her WebChat popped up. "That sounds good," she replied as her eyes slid back to him. "I just need to take thins first. Go find us somewhere good to eat and I'll be ready soon."
He smiled widely. "Alright then. No rush."
As he disappeared she opened the app and was greeted by a smiling, if not very tired, Caucasian face framed by ebony hair.
"You know how early I had to get up to make this call happen?" Kate Bishop demanded as she tried to push the sleep away.
"Is it early?" Amira asked in response, unable to avoid the smirk that curled up at the corner of her mouth. "But you look so fresh and vibrant that I was certain it'd have to be past noon. Or at least after brunch."
Kate's eyes narrowed on her. "I'd hate you for that, but it's too early for hate."
"You think about my offer?"
"It's also too early for thinking."
"I asked you two days ago."
Kate took a long sip from a mug of coffee as she stared into the webcam. "Y'know I've got my own super team to run. Kind of. I can't be running off to Australia or whatever."
"I'm not asking you to. Just, well, if I give you a call and you're free to help out, you help." Amira bit her lip. "I'd just rather do this if I knew you had my back. This is... this is a bit more than I thought it would be. It's good, just... more."
Kate exhaled as she smiled. "I've always got your back, you know that. You ever need my help and I'll be there, no matter what it is." Kate took another sip. "But is he alright? I mean, are you sure you want to be following him of all people?"
Amira shrugged noncommittally. "He seems okay, less crazy than Allison made him out really. I mean he did already die once, so that was a whole thing. But so far he hasn't tried to blow anything up or shoot random people like she told me he would."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's good, even if it is a low bar to hurdle. You speakin' to Allison yet, or are you both being stubborn as hell about this?"
Amira fidgeted in her seat. "Not yet. Soon. Maybe. I think Darktruth was going to see her, so I might go with him. Might not be a good idea though, pretty sure she's still pretty mad at me."
"She just wants you to be safe, that's all."
"Did she ever yell at you for doing any of this?"
"No, but then I'm more like her cool sister, while she sees you as her daughter. She's protective of things like that, super protective. Also a bit of a 'do as I do, not as I say' kind of person, who also doesn't always know how to best control her anger. She loves you. She just doesn't know how to deal with that emotion well."
"Yeah, I guess," Amira replied as her head turned towards the sound of what she suspected was Cody as he sat down in a chair. "Look, sorry about this but I've gotta go. I'm going out. But if I end up back in the states we are totally catching up."
Kate leaned forward in her seat until her face filled the webcam. "And where is it we're going at this time of night missy? And with who?"
"I think it's 'whom', and it's not really any of your business but it's Cody."
Kate cocked an eyebrow. "Cody, huh? Whose Cody? He a hunk, or more one of your nerdy types?"
Amira pouted. "I don't have a 'type'. Anyway, he's just a friend from work. Darktruth brought him in. Think he kidnapped him actually, might ask about that tonight. We're just going out to see the city. It'll be nice to have a friend here."
Kate exhaled. "Alright then, get me to wake up early just so you can go out and get crazy, or at least as crazy as you get. Make sure you message me when you get home so I know you're safe, alright?"
"Bye," Amira replied as she closed the app and shut down her computer.
She leaned back in her seat and took a slow breath. She didn't have a type, did she?
"Alright, I'm almost ready," she called out as she stood up and made sure her hijab sat neatly on her head. "Hope you found somewhere nice to-"
Amira froze as she stepped out into the main room to find Cody sat in a seat, behind him stood a figure in black combat gear and a hooded deep orange cloak as they clutched an assault rifle with a pan clip in their hands. She could feel their gaze upon her behind dark goggles.
"-eat," she finished and took a slow breath. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted their head to the side. "I'm looking for a mother-fucker named Darktruth. Know where I can find him?"
The voice sounded feminine to Amira, with a gravelly texture. The posture was confident to the point of relaxation, perhaps cocky.
"Well, he's not here," Cody replied as he locked eyes with Amira. She could see him trying to formulate a plan. "Clearly."
"So why don't you make an appointment to come back during our usual office hours?" Amira asked.
The figure exhaled. "Where is he? I'll just go find him there."
"Good luck with that," Cody replied as he jerked his head toward the gate. "He's in Krakoa, so unless you plan to swim or something."
The figure's head turned towards the gate as they scoffed. "Krakoa. Of course. Thanks for the assist."
With that, they turned and ran full speed at the gate, and vanished through it.
Cody turned back to Amira. "So they were a mutant."
"We should warn him."
"Got no way to. Left his phone."
"Well, he'll probably be fine."
"Let's go eat."
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Excerpt from Dr. Kiara Davis' 'Dreamscape'
You may wonder at this point, if you haven't been thoroughly confused by the mathematics and particular science I have thrown at you, why it is that, if all our dreams are alternate realities, we aren't in danger in them or are fully sucked into them. Of this last point, I will say that I am very thankful we aren't, as the prospect of possibly being pulled into another universe every time I sleep is a horrific one to consider. Though I will note that we can't be sure that no-one has, plenty of people have vanished without a trace after all.
To explain the 'why not' of it I have to get you to think of your dreaming self, not as a physical extension of yourself, but something much more metaphysical. Like a ghost perhaps. In fact, my colleagues, the few who do not think this idea is insane, and I believe that it may explain at least some of the ghosts seen by people throughout the world. That those ghosts are in fact dreamers from another reality.
It is rare in a dream that you have actual control over your actions, at least for most people. Most of the time you are simply an observer or a passenger, and this latter term is, I think, the crux of it. Most times when you travel to other realities in your dreams you're not actually 'travelling' so much as just viewing it through the eyes of one in that world, often your alternate self. You are a passenger in their body as you view their life, and it is our brain's inability to fully comprehend the information it is receiving that causes 'dream logic' as it is known. You keep getting killed over and over again? That's because your other self was killed, or at least gravely wounded, and your brain doesn't know what to do with that and so replays the event on a loop.
We do suspect that it is possible for an individual, or many perhaps, to freely traverse this 'Dreamscape' at their own will, using either their own dreams or the dreams of others as a way to travel between realities. Given the existence of so many varied metahumans in our world that it is a very strong possibility, and one of my colleagues even suggests that magic, if we assume it to truly exist, could also provide another mode of transportation.
Personally, I find the idea that an individual could use my dreams as a kind of road from their reality to my own quite frightening to consider.
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Krakoa
Darktruth leaned back against a tree, or at least what he hoped was a tree given he didn't fully understand the island yet, as he watched Pixie move off to get them something to eat. He had wanted to go with her but she was incredibly persistent that he simply take the time to just enjoy Krakoa and being amongst mutants. He might have been able to if he hadn't just seen Wolverine move through the crowd a short distance from him.
"So how's your recon going?"
He jerked at the voice and spun as a young Caucasian woman with bright red hair stepped came to lean against the tree next to him. Hope Summers, the former mutant messiah, and new mutant celebrity.
"Wh-what?"
She smiled. "You can play dumb with everybody else, but I was trained by Cable. Remember? I can see it. You're tense. You picked a spot with a wide view of the area. You've been keeping an eye on key targets; landmarks, VIPs, major threats. Wolverine being so close made you tense, more so than usual. You're not just here for a party, you're doing recon. Mapping the land, taking note of power structures. You're doing what I would if I was invited into a hostile land."
His hand moved for the gun within his trenchcoat, only to catch himself just as her eyes moved to him. She laughed gently as he felt his temperature rise.
"I probably should be offended," she said as she turned to face him. "Although shooting me in the middle of a party would be incredibly stupid, and even you aren't quite that stupid."
His brow furrowed. "Thanks, I guess. So... let's go see Xavier then. I hear Exile is nice this time of year."
She smiled at him, far more warmly than he would have expected. "I probably should. But, I want to ask you one question first."
He licked his lip as he calculated his odds of making it to the nearest gate. Not high. "Just one?"
She crossed her arms as she stared into his eyes. "Do you intend to hurt mutants?"
He took a breath. "I'm hoping I don't have to hurt anyone. I just want to make sure everybody is safe."
Hope smiled brightly. "Good enough for me! Of course, if you go against that I will make your life hell before you ever even see Exile."
He gave a small laugh. "I'd be surprised if you didn't. Thanks."
"Don't make me regret trusting you."
"We both know I can't promise that," he replied. "But... did you really just come over because you knew I was up to something? Shouldn't you be with the rest of the Five?"
"We're not attached to each other y'know," she replied. "And I didn't even know you were up to anything until I came over. I just saw you and thought we could... talk. I kind of miss when we used to talk on Utopia, even if it was all just stupid stuff."
"Honestly, I feel the same. Although I talk stupid stuff with everybody. It's my thing." He took off his cowboy hat and ran a hand over his shaved head. "I missed you a lot actually. I never feel like a lot of people get me, don't judge me. I don't make friends easy. I mean, I mess it up pretty bad. You were a good friend, and once Utopia was gone I just... let that fall apart."
"Don't get all sad on me," Hope replied as she punched him in the arm. "This is a party in paradise, even if you don't trust said party in said paradise." She thought for a moment. "How are you doing anyway? After your resurrection? It was a little different to normal, which sounds like the kind of thing you would do."
He smiled as he put his hat back on his head. "Can't deny that. I feel fine, not the first time I've died and come back. Would have preferred to not die in the first place, but... I was never very good at smart choices."
"Nope," she replied as her eyes moved to the crowd. "She looks beautiful."
Darktruth followed her gaze the form of Pixie as she moved towards them; her dress graceful upon her form, her pink hair bounced lightly upon her shoulders, wings sparkled in the lights. He could see her catch the eyes of other mutants she passed by and hold them as she moved ever closer towards him. His heart fluttered at the sight of her, but it always did that. Certainly, she was beautiful that night, but she was always beautiful.
He opened his mouth to express those thoughts to Hope, only he never got the chance as a gun-shot ripped through the air and killed the words in his throat.
A ripple of fear spread through the mutants as they began to search about for the source, and all found it as a figure clad in combat gear and a deep orange tattered cloak climbed atop a rock as the music and celebrations went silent. The figure's head moved about the crowd as they planted the barrel of their assault rifle upon the rock and leaned on it casually.
"Nice party, can't wait to see the orgy later," the figure called out. "Sorry for the interrupt, but I'm looking for someone. Mother-fucker named Darktruth, anybody seen him?"
Darktruth froze as he felt both Hope and Pixie's eyes turn to him. He knew they were both asking the same question, 'what did he do now?' He only wished he knew himself. He wondered how everyone would react if he just shot the figure right there, he also tried to remember how close the nearest gate was.
He watched as the figure's gaze seemed to find Pixie in the crowd, froze on her for a moment, then traced her eyesight back to him. They straightened their back as they reached up to their head.
Darktruth swallowed as he glanced at Pixie, then they both looked to the figure as they removed their hood, goggles, and mask. He could hear Pixie's gasp through the silence and was sure he'd have made the same sound if his body wasn't struck by shock.
The olive-skinned young woman smiled down at him; her short, dark pink hair framed her head to draw attention to her pointed ears.
"Hey, dad."
To be Continued