The NeuroTech Institute’s dream lab was a sterile cocoon of white walls and blinking monitors, its air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and ozone. Elena sat in a sleek chair, electrodes clinging to her scalp like tiny spiders, their wires snaking to an EEG array that hummed with quiet menace. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, the memory of Lukas’ words—the music is a door—looping in her mind. The composer stood across the room, his silver hair catching the lab’s harsh light, his blue eyes fixed on her with an intensity that felt both reassuring and unsettling.
Aisha stood at the control panel, her tablet glowing with real-time data, her sharp features taut with focus. The lab was quieter than usual, the usual bustle of scientists muted by the late hour and the weight of their task. Lukas’s CD, now the epicenter of their investigation, was loaded into the system, its first track ready to play. The subsonic frequencies they’d uncovered—theta and delta waves resonating with the brain’s deepest rhythms—had confirmed the music’s power to make dreams manifest. But confirming wasn’t enough. They needed to understand, to control it, before the world outside spiraled further into tumult.
“You sure about this?” Aisha asked, her voice low, her eyes flicking to Elena. The question carried a rare softness, a crack in her usual pragmatism.
Elena nodded, though her grip on the chair’s armrests betrayed her nerves. “I’ve felt it before,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “The meadow, the cats—it’s familiar. I can handle it.”
Lukas stepped closer, his presence calm but weighted. “It’s not about handling it,” he said, his accented voice gentle yet firm. “It’s about listening. The music will pull you, but you must stay aware. If you lose yourself…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting to the EEG monitor, as if seeing something beyond the screen.
Aisha’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. “We’ll monitor your vitals,” she said, her fingers hovering over the controls. “Any sign of trouble, I’m pulling you out.”
Elena managed a half-smile, thinking of Pippin’s playful chirp, Shadow’s velvet fur. Her cats, born from that first dream, were safe at home, but their existence was a reminder of what was at stake. The global reports—ghostly samurai in Tokyo, a graveyard’s dead walking in Mexico City—were growing darker, more volatile. If they didn’t find a way to stop this, her meadow could become a nightmare too.
“Start the music,” Elena said, closing her eyes.
The first notes spilled into the room, soft and shimmering, like moonlight on water. They wrapped around her, pulling her under with a gentleness that felt almost tender. The meadow returned, vivid and warm, its grass swaying under a golden sky. Cats tumbled around her—Pippin, Mischief, countless others—their purrs a chorus of joy. But beneath the warmth, that low hum pulsed, the same shadow she’d sensed before, its edges sharper now, like a storm gathering at the horizon.
Her heart quickened, the EEG array beeping in response. She tried to focus, to stay aware as Lukas had warned, but the music was relentless, its notes weaving through her thoughts. The meadow shifted, the sky darkening, the cats’ purrs growing louder, almost a growl. A shape emerged at the edge—a silhouette, not cat but something larger, its eyes glinting with an unnatural light. It moved closer, its presence heavy, pressing against her chest—
“Elena, stay with us!” Aisha’s voice sliced through, sharp and urgent. The music stopped, the meadow vanishing like a snuffed flame. Elena gasped, her eyes snapping open, the lab’s sterile light blinding. Her chest heaved, sweat beading on her brow, the EEG array screeching with erratic spikes.
Aisha was at her side, her hand gripping Elena’s shoulder. “You okay? Your theta and delta waves went haywire—higher than anything we’ve seen.”
Elena nodded, though her hands trembled as she peeled off the electrodes. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky. She wasn’t fine. The silhouette, the growl—it had been seconds from breaking through, from becoming real. She looked at Lukas, who stood frozen, his face pale, his eyes wide with something like recognition.
“What did you see?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elena hesitated, the memory of the meadow’s shadow too raw. “The cats… my dream. But there was something else. Something… not mine. Like it was trying to get in.”
Aisha’s tablet beeped, drawing her attention. She swiped through the data, her expression darkening. “Your brainwaves synced with the global patterns—exactly. It’s not just you. This is happening everywhere.” She turned to Lukas, her voice hard. “What’s in that music? What aren’t you telling us?”
Lukas shook his head, his hands clasping tightly. “I told you—it’s a door. I tuned the piano to resonate with the mind, with what lies beneath. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know it could open so wide.”
Elena’s stomach twisted. The shadow wasn’t just a dream—it was a warning, a glimpse of what the music could unleash. She thought of Aisha’s fire, the claw marks in London, the floating city in Beijing. The manifestations weren’t random—they were growing, feeding on the dreams they touched.
“We need to test others,” Aisha said, her voice steady despite the strain. “Volunteers, unaffected subjects. We need to know how far this goes.”
Lukas nodded, his gaze distant. “I’ll help. The frequencies, the temperament—I can map them for you. But be careful. The more you play it, the wider the door opens.”
Elena stood, her legs unsteady, the ghost of the meadow still clinging to her. She met Aisha’s eyes, seeing her own fear reflected there. They’d confirmed the music’s power, but at a cost. The silhouette, the growl—it was a piece of the puzzle they hadn’t expected, a darkness lurking beneath the beauty of Varn’s creation.
Victor burst into the lab, his face grim. “We’ve got new reports—entire neighborhoods in Delhi vanishing, replaced by dreamscapes. We need answers, now.”
Aisha held up her tablet. “We’re getting there. The music’s syncing brains globally, amplifying dreams. But it’s not just dreams—it’s something deeper, something we don’t fully understand.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Keep going. And keep Varn close. He’s our best shot.”
As the lab returned to its frenetic pace, Elena felt Lukas’s gaze on her. “You felt it, didn’t you?” he said quietly, stepping closer. “The other side.”
She didn’t answer, but her silence was enough. The door was open, and something was waiting. Elena steeled herself—she’d face it, no matter the cost. The cats, the fire, the bedlam—they were just the beginning. As she rejoined Aisha at the workstation, her comm buzzed with a new alert: a Paris cathedral now a labyrinth of mirrors, trapping worshippers inside. The world was slipping, and the music was singing it to ruin.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
