Founder Of Dreams
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Creation Event

The First Wanderer

Not much is known about the first wanderer who entered the Dreamscape. They are the theorized origin of the "Cafeteria" from Level 221. This is also the point where, in theory, the surface of the Dreamscape began to expand. The Dream Dwellers like to think of this as the event which sparked the "self-aware" nature of the Dreamscape.

NOTICE: The following is a creative retelling of the Dream Dweller's discovery tale in the form of a poem. Their stories recount the existence of a young girl named Abby, who is associated with the title of "first wanderer." The M.E.G. considers this to be purely fictional.

Before our time and before our minds;
Before our world came to be.

There was a girl who couldn't tell the difference
between dreams and reality.

She would break the veil,
and descend the trail,
that would lead to you and me.

She is the beating heart,
The zenith, the start.
Embracer of all uncanny.

Though she's not here,
She was most sincere,
We still remember Abby.

Abby’s green eyes focused intently on the white pawn held gently between her thumb and index finger, her mind deep in thought. After a few moments, she let her eyes drift back to gaze at the series of white and black squares splayed out before her. She weighed her available moves, keeping note of her opponent’s darker pieces scattered strategically across the board. She was impressed; her enemy's defense had managed to keep her at bay for quite some time, but not for much longer.

She smirked, and there it was: an opening her opponent hadn’t yet noticed. In an instant, the tables would be turned, and she would have the upper hand. All she had to do was…Wait. She blinked. She blinked again. She stared onward in confusion as she checked the setup again, and once more after that. Sure enough, there was one piece that was not where she thought it was. A piece that said 'checkmate.' How could that be? She was sure she had this game under control, yet one out of place bishop spelt out her doom.


Anger began to boil deep within her; her skin became hot to the touch. She began to squeeze the small chess piece between her fingers, depriving her skin of blood and leaving her fingertips white despite her already naturally pale complexion. She was cornered.

No. Abby thought in anger. She would not falter. She would not fail. That wouldn't happen; she wouldn’t let it. She searched desperately for a scapegoat of some kind: an exit, an alternative ending. She didn’t know why, but it seemed as if this game was the single most important thing at this moment; if she lost this, it would all be over. It felt too intense; it was surreal. How could such a mundane thing be so life-defining? It didn't matter. All she knew was that she had to find a solution. There had to be something—anything…yet no matter how hard she thought about it, in the end, the fact was undeniable: her king was completely defenseless, and there was no way out. She gritted her teeth and made a quiet growling sound. How could one piece change this entire game so drastically? How did she not notice? Had she been playing into the hands of the opponent the entire time?

She looked up, prepared to scowl at her challenger, only to be met with empty air. Her face contorted in confusion; where was the other player? …Who was the other player? Why couldn’t she remember? She gripped her head as it throbbed in pain from the quickly accumulating questions. It was as if—somewhere, somehow—a dam had broken deep within her mind, and there was nothing stopping the ensuing flood of panic and confusion. She tried to think back, but all that arose in her memory was a thick, dark fog that clouded everything prior to this moment. What was she doing before this game? How did she get here? Speaking of which, where is here?

She tried to look around, but found to her horror that she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if the surrounding air had begun to press up against her, squeezing her, suffocating her. It was laughing at her as she fought with all her mental power, with all the resolve and determination in the world, but it was still hopeless. She felt trapped, cornered, helpless, and above all, terrified. No way out, just as she was in the chess game. She tried to cry out, but her vocal chords were as frozen as her limbs. She couldn’t make a peep.

…This is a dream.

As if in response to that realization, the entire space dissolved into a white void. There was no more game, and no more chess board. She was now standing up in a natural position as an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity washed over her. Why did everything feel so vivid? So real? She was used to vivid dreams, but this felt… off. She hadn’t had a dream that had been this vivid in a while, she thought. Her memory was still foggy. She looked around, but white emptiness continued to span endlessly in each direction she turned.

She felt panic well up inside her. She spun around, completely at a loss. What was she supposed to do? Why can’t I wake up? She thought furiously as the anxiety continued to seep into her, through her skin, settling deep in her bones as it devolved into dread. After all, any normal dream should have ended by now, unless it were lucid; as if to test this theory, she struggled to manifest an object with her mind. Nothing appeared, and the white void around her remained as colorless and blank as before. There was nothing here. It’s all empty… as was the growing feeling of dread inside her.

Abby couldn't think of what to do. There wasn't anything she could do, really. If it were a dream after all, she would wake up eventually. Working herself up would do no good. With no options and no better ideas, she took a deep breath, and sat down on the white, dimensionless surface below her. It felt…cool — but also warm — in the same way that something hot could feel like ice upon contact. It wasn't painful, though; It was soothing. She began to spread her fingers against the uncanny substance to allow herself to feel more of it. There was a subtle movement beneath her fingertips, like atoms dancing to the beat of her own heart. The synchronicity was unexpected, and jarring. She yanked her hand away momentarily, frightened by the bizarre sensation of energy. That's weird…It feels like a part of me — which makes sense, it being a dream and all. Abby thought to herself.

Abby gently placed her hands in her lap as she began to focus on her breathing. In, and out. In, and out. As she closed her eyes, she paid close attention to the way her lungs felt as they expanded; the feeling of relief that came as they deflated. She could hear her heartbeat. Faintly, at first; but the more she focused on it, the louder it became. She felt her diaphragm contract as she released another steady stream of air, then relax, inhaling deeply once again. She had begun to lose herself in this rhythm. Her heartbeat was now felt in every limb; it began to radiate into the air around her. Soon enough, her entire body began to vibrate in the same way the fabric of the void had at her fingertips. The sensation was consuming her.

She opened her eyes.

There was no more void.

Instead, she found herself sitting on the ground in the middle of her high school cafeteria.

Well, that's…Odd.

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