Dream

That Night — Within Camilla’s Dream

The darkness was absolute at first.

Weightless.

Soundless.

Endless.

It was the kind of void that pressed against the soul, vast and hungry, where even thought seemed to dissolve. Camilla floated in it, or perhaps she didn’t exist at all — a sliver of awareness adrift in nothingness.

Then… a shimmer.

A single silver thread appeared, delicate as spider silk, unraveling slowly through the black like a trail of moonlight across still water. It pulsed with a heartbeat not her own — steady, rhythmic, ancient.

It beckoned.

Camilla reached for it without thinking, her fingers trembling. The moment she touched it, a jolt rushed through her — not pain, not pleasure, but recognition.

And the void… cracked.

But not with light.

With memory.

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