Chapter 8

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 14:38:15 +0000

The music in the dream is deafening—too loud, too alive—pulsing through the walls, the floor, his very bones, as though it carries a heartbeat that is not his own. The club is drenched in crimson light, thick with heat and movement, bodies colliding in a restless sea of sweat and laughter. Glasses clink, voices blur into one another, and strangers brush past without consequence, as if nothing in the world could possibly go wrong within these walls.