Brenet

Ethan never imagined that a single night could change his life forever. What he thought was just an ordinary dream took him back to his past with an undeniable clarity. He quickly realizes that every choice in this dream world imprints his reality, changing his present in ways beyond his comprehension. But the deeper he goes, the more the boundary between dream and reality fades. Strangers seem to know him, memories he never experienced feel like his own, and, at the heart of it all, there is her…A girl who shouldn't be there, yet, somehow, has always been part of his story.

Between Dreams and Destinies

The air still smelled like rooftop wind.

Ethan jerked awake, sitting up in bed, breath ragged. His heart slammed against his ribs. His mind hovered between dream and reality—still feeling the wind on his skin, still seeing her smile.

"You promised me last time we met."

The girl's words looped in his skull.

He pressed a hand to his chest, fingers trembling. Didn't understand what this feeling was—deeper than fear, sharper than confusion.

The gut-punch of forgetting something vital.

Forced a deep breath. Just a dream.

But then—his gaze snagged on the desk.

Something that shouldn't be there.

He picked it up carefully, a chill crawling up his spine. It was a childhood photo, taken in a park he couldn't quite place. But what unnerved him most was the person beside him.

A girl his age. Her face was blurred, like time had smudged it, but her silhouette was clear—standing close, her hand almost reaching for his…

Something in his gut screamed she shouldn't be there. "No… this photo didn't exist before."

His fingers shook as he held it. Denying this was getting harder. A knock at the door snapped him back.

"Ethan, breakfast!" his dad called from the hallway.

Ethan hesitated, still hollowed out. "Yeah… coming."

He drifted downstairs, the photo burning in his mind. Sat at the table, picking at toast.

"Slept late," his dad said, eyes on his phone. "Not like you."

"Guess I… was more tired than I thought," Ethan mumbled.

His dad shrugged. "Well, you always snuck off to that park as a kid."

"Yeah, you'd go with…" His dad frowned, digging for a name. "Eh, whatever. Point is, you'd vanish for hours."

But his dad said it like it was straight fact.

"If I keep dreaming… what else gets rewritten?"

He drifted back to his room, chest heavy like a brick. Too much. Way too much.

The changes were real. No more denying it.

He flipped open his notebook—the one he'd scribbled his real memories in—and scanned his own desperate handwriting:

Still there. But now… it all felt distant. Faded.

His phone buzzed, yanking him out of the spiral.

A blurry memory exploded in his skull.

Him as a kid, sprinting through the park.

Couldn't see her face. Couldn't remember her name.

But the feeling stayed—warmth. Laughter. A promise.

Ethan's eyes flew open, heart slamming.

Traces in Reality