The Dreamer stirred, in her fitful slumber, a call ringing out through the multiverse, a dream unfulfilled, a new reality, new sensations and experiences. Releasing the grasp upon her Dream, the Dreaming Queen allowed one to wake, summoned to this realm, to this shadow of existence. Insubstantial, a dream, a fleeting thought.

Through the skeletal-guarded gateways a solitary figure raises from a vast swirling darkness, rises from a massive sarcophagus until slowly the dream worlds fall away as the patterns of reality emerge, a strong resonance thrumming through the various realities, calling forth the awakened Dream.

Slowly the shadows dwelling between worlds rouse themselves. Once more unto the breech the Dreamers call out the whispers in the night, the movement at the corner of the eye, the chill that caresses the skin ever so lightly. Calling the spark of life lost on far horizons. 

The thrum of life, the resonance of battle had found its way to the deep vastness of the shadow world. What life did the Dreamers call forth from the chambers of the void? A spark, a fleeting moment of glory, a life that wished to challenge that which stood ever watchful, ever willing to grant the sweetest of kisses, that of dreams untold to those who wished the embrace of the Dreamers.

That thrum of life, rich and vibrant ringing through the dark halls, beckoning the shadows forward, beckoning to the forgotten memory, beckoning the eternal sleepers to a wakened state. 

At that moment, a great sigh from the vastness of the shadowed realms erupts and sweeps over a form lay bare from the enveloping shadows. The world where the waker dare tread lay open to them. Upon weak and feeble steps, they will return to the realms of light and substance, a new beginning, a new opportunity to fulfill their life’s work.