I want to have a Normal Day (ZNZ)

[A/N: Thanks again to GoldenZega606 for commenting. I would like more people to join in the interaction with this fantastic author.

I also noticed that there are many people who have read my chapters, so since I am famous, I am going to ask them for the small amount of 5000 powerstones to get an extra chapter. It's a joke obviously.]

In the main room.

I watched as I2 left the bodies in the same position he found them, while I tried to check the status of the weapon. I began to seriously question whether I really am sleepwalking and have been kidnapped, or if I was in some other situation that, although like this one, could be even more unusual.

I had several theories floating around in my mind: some were quite coherent, while others seemed fueled by my imagination, influenced by the numerous movies and series I have consumed over time.

The first, the most logical, suggested that I was trapped in a dream. Everything I saw could be the result of an exhausting week of work that left me exhausted, combined with the brilliant idea of watching "The Walking Dead" for hours. This theory was the one that convinced me the most and the one that explained why I could observe everything I2 did without being able to influence his decisions. If this were true, I just wanted to wake up. It wasn't a nightmare that would jolt me out of it right away, but it was certainly the most realistic dream I'd experienced in a long time, and the situation I was witnessing filled me with unease.

The second possibility, which made a bit more sense but had a hint of conspiracy, was that devices that allow us to connect more directly to the digital world—through thoughts, gestures, or just a glance—such as Neuralink chips, had induced me, along with many other people, to experience hyper realistic dreams in order to collect data on brain activity.

Finally, there was my most outlandish theory, though depending on whether I'm alive or not, it could be considered plausible: perhaps I had died and been transported to an apocalyptic future world filled with monsters, zombies, and machines on the brink of destruction. Though, of course, I had doubts about that.

Assuming that the first two theories were possible, I could only wait to wake up and decide whether to go to a psychologist or get rid of all the technological devices in my home, except, of course, the television. In the opposite scenario, I could only regret having died without knowing how, and without having enjoyed life more. All this was complicated by my obvious condition as a prisoner of this body, in which I had been locked up, unable to make my own decisions, limited to being a mere spectator.

Suddenly, I2 brought me out of my thoughts when he got out of bed, went down to the first floor and began to collect most of the food that was still on the furniture and countertops.

Three hours later.

I2 was now in the third house I had checked and, luckily for me and my sanity, we had not found a situation as adverse as that of the first house we explored. There were only abandoned houses, apparently left in a hurry, without much visible damage, but clearly neglected.

He carefully began sorting through the loot he had obtained. In this apocalyptic world, food did not seem to be in abundance, as I2 did not let even a cramp of bread escape, so to speak, taking everything he found in his path.

He set aside some of the edibles that he could consume immediately, such as the vanilla cookies found in the second house. He also took some orange-flavored juice powder; I thought there would be no water in this desolate world, but fortunately for me, there was.

After devouring what he had in hand, he continued exploring the other houses until he filled a couple of backpacks and bags with different useful items. He returned to the house where he slept, carrying the supplies very carefully up the stairs, trying not to make noise, which I soon realized were traps, or rather alarms to warn anyone who tried to ascend.

Several hours had passed in his search for supplies, and as dusk began to fall, I2 set about checking the doors and windows of the first floor again, reinforcing the back door that hadn't seemed very secure before.

He went back up to the second floor, entered the room where I woke up, and lay down on the bed, seemingly exhausted. I wasn't sure of his condition, though, as I couldn't feel what he was doing, only watching his actions.

As he drifted off to sleep, which took a while, I prayed that this was all a dream, a long, strange illusion from which I could wake up in my bed and move freely, finally leaving behind the feeling of being a prisoner of a body.

I2 closed his eyes, and I drifted off into the darkness with hope.

In the morning.

"I hate you with all my soul, morning sun", I thought, regretting not having moved my bed the day before. I quickly got up, resigned, so as not to continue the torture that had been accompanying my mornings lately. I began to exercise and stretch, until suddenly, I froze.

"Why would I do exercises and warm-ups as soon as I got up? I had never done it before", I mused, bewildered by my unexpected actions. Without delving too deeply into what led me to try something that was not usual, I walked to the bathroom to begin my real routine.

As I approached my television, I was once again overcome by a strange feeling of déjà vu as I looked at the cover of the TWD series. However, this time I did not only experience that ephemeral feeling; I also began to faintly evoke what that déjà vu evoked in me. I soon understood that it all came from the dreams I had been having lately. Although I didn't remember many of them, the last one was certainly the most vivid, and I could relive it if I put my mind to it.

Determined not to miss any details of that dream, I grabbed a notebook and pencil, and began to write down everything I could remember.

The first thing I noted was that I was experiencing everything in first person, although I couldn't move or make decisions on my own. This aspect, quite common in dreams, turned out to be the most disturbing; it was the first thing that came to mind when I woke up.

Then, I began to make a chronological record of what had happened during the morning in the dream. I walked around the house where I woke up, exploring both floors. I noticed the lack of preparation of food, opting only for those that could be consumed instantly. I also decided to go out and inspect other houses in search of useful objects and supplies.

In one of them, I came across bodies, which immediately raised concerns for my mental health. This dream was the most realistic I've had so far, with vivid and chilling details. However, there were other aspects that eluded me; try as I might, I couldn't remember what I found in each house or what they looked like in detail. Also, there were time periods that I couldn't remember, probably because nothing relevant happened to mark them.

It was definitely a strange dream. I started researching the meaning of it online and was surprised by the amount of misinformation that can be found. Most of the results were sites that offered recommendations for movies, series, books, and comics, all presented under the lure of the best prices.

Some even suggested watching fake news and conspiracy theories about the end of the world and the control that elites exert over us. I continued browsing until I came across a site that mentioned that dreaming about deserted worlds could be related to antisocial personality disorder. To be honest, this worried me a little.

It's not that I'm a hermit; I try to balance my work with moments of rest and my social life. In fact, last Sunday I went to play 5-a-side football with some friends and spent a large part of the day enjoying their company. However, I began to consider the option of visiting a psychologist, not only because of what I read, but because of the disturbing feeling that the room with those two corpses leaves me.

[A/N: What sports do you play? Playing sports is good for your health. I play basketball.]

I am aware that it was all a dream, but sometimes I feel that, if I go back to my room right now, I will find those bodies in my bed. Although I know that this will not happen, the fear persists, generating in me an uneasiness that is difficult to shake.

I spent the entire afternoon immersed in music and enjoying family movies, trying to drive away that annoying feeling that would not leave me alone. As a precautionary measure, I decided to investigate private clinics that offered psychological services, since depending on public health to obtain an appointment with a psychologist could lead me to wait to sit until the end of my days, without resolving this concern.

Music became my refuge; I spent much of the day immersed in their melodies. Even when preparing lunch or dinner, I would turn up the volume and let myself be carried away by the rhythms of each song. Now, as fatigue envelops me and I am about to fall into the arms of Morpheus, I am still surrounded by those notes. I hope that Nirvana will give me a restful sleep and help me not dream of nightmares like last nights.

The next morning.

I woke up without the sun bothering me, something that already represents an improvement compared to previous days. I thought that it could be a great day, but that illusion vanished as soon as I tried to get up and I found myself trapped in a dream again. "This must be a joke", I mused as I stared closely at the ceiling, where I2 seemed lost in his thoughts.

At least I have the comfort of knowing that I'm dreaming, which keeps me from getting anxious about being kidnapped or something. In the morning, I repeated the routine of the previous day, checking the houses surrounding our base. I found some useful food, although in too few quantities. It seemed that the previous owners of these homes left in a hurry, taking with them as much as they could before abandoning them.

I returned to our base and set about preparing a more substantial lunch than the one I had the day before. I lit a pot with the gas left in the house's gallon and made pasta with a white sauce from those that come in a packet - it's really lucky that this house has an external gas system, since I don't want to imagine the state of the distribution pipes.

As I enjoyed my meal, I lost myself in thoughts about the nature of this world. I'm not entirely sure that this is an apocalypse; it could simply be a place ruled by anarchy. However, looking at the state of the houses, I doubt that this is the case.

My greatest wish is that we are not facing a world ruled by machines. Although, on the other hand, imagining Arnold Schwarzenegger as a T-1000 could be simply amazing.

[A/N: The fourth issue ends and our protagonist suspects some things. The truth is that I would have liked to develop more the idea that the protagonist himself believes that he is crazy, but it is a novel, not a psychology book. On the other hand, I would like you to think that possibly the person in the dreams could not be himself, but could be dreaming about another person, after all dreams are unexplored territory for people.

Dreams are often difficult to explain, there are people who can control them and others who can only see what happens in them, and even fewer have a complete memory of them. If I had made the protagonist able to remember everything it would be too fantastic. I can enter dreams again if I concentrate enough, I can also partially remember some things from them and unfortunately I cannot control them.]