Chapter 4: The Dream That Wasn’t a Dream
Cass didn't sleep right away.
After what had happened with Oakridge Street vanishing, his mind refused to settle. He had spent nearly an hour scrolling through his phone, searching for something—anything—that proved the street had existed. But every map, every old listing, every scrap of information had already been erased.
By the time exhaustion finally pulled him under, he had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.
And then he was somewhere else.
It wasn't his body.
Cass knew that instantly.
He was taller. Broader. His fingers were rougher, his breathing heavier. His body moved differently, like a weight had settled in his bones from years of exhaustion.
He was running.
No.
He was driving.
The hum of an old engine vibrated through him, the scent of gasoline thick in his lungs. His hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles white as he barreled down an empty highway, headlights carving twin tunnels of light into the darkness.
The city loomed ahead.
He could see it on the horizon—skyscrapers stabbing into the sky, their windows glowing like distant stars. But half the skyline was wrong. Buildings tilted at impossible angles. Some were half-formed, their structures flickering like static. The city wasn't whole.
Something was breaking it apart.
A voice crackled through the radio beside him.
"—is your location? Do you have the device?"
Cass felt himself respond, but the voice that came out wasn't his.
"I'm five minutes out. I have it."
The radio crackled.
"Hurry. The countdown's accelerating."
Cass's grip tightened.
He didn't know what it meant, but he did. Whoever he was inside—whoever's body he was inhabiting—they knew exactly what was happening.
And they were terrified.
The road stretched ahead, curving toward the city's broken skyline. He pressed the gas harder, the speedometer climbing, the tires skidding slightly as he wove through abandoned vehicles littering the highway.
Where was everyone?
He tried to remember, but the thoughts weren't his to recall. They belonged to someone else, and they knew something he didn't.
The radio crackled again.
"If you fail, it resets."
Cass didn't need to ask what that meant.
Somehow, deep in his gut, he already knew.
If he failed, the world would end.
And it would start over.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Something in his pocket vibrated. He yanked it out without thinking—a timer glowed on the screen.
00:03:27
His stomach dropped.
Three minutes.
The city was getting closer now, but the sky was wrong.
The air shimmered, the stars swallowed by a creeping red glow—something burning, something falling.
And then he saw them.
The meteors.
Streaking down from the heavens in blazing arcs, dozens—hundreds—of them, moving too fast to count.
Cass's foot slammed on the gas.
He was running out of time.
He hit the outskirts of the city at one minute left.
The streets were eerily empty. Streetlights flickered. Billboards glitched, displaying half-formed messages before collapsing into static.
The entire city was coming apart.
Cass swerved, tires screeching as he skidded onto an overpass.
Ahead—a building.
He knew it.
He had to get inside.
His heart pounded as he yanked the wheel hard, the car fishtailing before slamming to a stop in front of a looming concrete structure.
A tower.
A facility.
And he had the device.
His hands moved before he could think. He grabbed something from the passenger seat—a small, metal case—and kicked open the door, sprinting toward the entrance.
Thirty seconds.
He shoved through the doors.
The hallway stretched ahead, sterile and white, but the world was shaking. Cracks spiderwebbed through the walls. The ceiling buckled.
Fifteen seconds.
A door.
The control room.
Cass—or whoever he was—slammed inside, chest heaving, fingers flying over controls, opening the case—
And then everything went white.
BOOM.
The impact shattered the sky.
Cass was thrown backward, his skull cracking against the ground. His ears rang, the air vibrating with a soundless roar.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then the city screamed.
He struggled onto his hands and knees, gasping, forcing his eyes open.
Fire.
The sky was on fire.
Buildings collapsed. Streets split apart. The entire city was coming undone, as if reality itself had been ripped at the seams.
And then the shadows came.
They moved through the wreckage, slipping between flames, inhuman shapes with stretched limbs and empty faces.
The Cat People.
They had arrived.
Cass's heart pounded as he tried to move, tried to run, but his body wouldn't listen.
And then—
She spoke.
A whisper against his ear, soft, sorrowful.
"Wake up."
The world collapsed.
Cass gasped awake, his body jerking violently, his lungs dragging in air like he had just surfaced from drowning.
He was drenched in sweat, his sheets twisted around him. His heart slammed against his ribs.
The dream—
No.
It wasn't just a dream.
His fingers ached from gripping the wheel. His legs burned as if he had really run.
And his ears were still ringing from the explosion.
Cass sat there, staring at the ceiling, his chest heaving.
Then, slowly, he turned his head toward the window.
Outside, the sky was clear. The city was quiet.
But something felt different.
Like something had shifted.
Like the dream had bled through.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
This wasn't just in his head.
The world was changing.
And he was starting to remember why.
End of Chapter 4