The city of Somnium was a paradox—a sprawling metropolis of neon lights and futuristic skyscrapers, where the hum of modern life buzzed uneasily against the whispers of something older, something deeper. Skyscrapers clawed at the sky, their glass facades reflecting the ever-present glow of the moon, while below, cobblestone streets wound like veins through the heart of the city. It was a place where dreams bled into reality, where the line between the two was as thin as the veil of sleep.

  Rome Armitage hated nights like this.

  He stood on the rooftop of his crumbling apartment building, staring out at the city he called home. The night air was thick with the scent of rain and exhaust, and the distant hum of traffic echoed like a lullaby. But beneath it all, there was something else—a low, resonant hum that seemed to come from the ground itself, a vibration that made his teeth ache and his skin crawl.

  It was the hum of the Dreamscape.

  Rome wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the Dreamscape. For as long as he could remember, he’d been warned about the dangers of dreaming. His father’s voice still echoed in his head, sharp and insistent: “Stay out of the Dreamscape, Rome. It’s not for people like us.”

  But what did that even mean? People like us. Rome had never understood it. His father had been a Dreamwalker, one of the rare few who could enter the Dreamscape and navigate its surreal, shifting landscapes. He’d been famous in Somnium, a hero who’d saved countless lives by venturing into the collective unconscious of the city and pulling people out of their nightmares. But then, one day, he’d gone into the Dreamscape and never come back.

  Rome was eleven years old.

  Now, at 18, he wanted nothing to do with the Dreamscape. He’d spent his life avoiding it, staying as far away from anything even remotely related to dreaming as he could. But the city had other plans.

  The knock came at midnight, sharp and insistent. Kael froze, his hand hovering over the half-empty bottle of whiskey on his kitchen table. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and the people who usually came knocking at this hour weren’t the kind you wanted to answer the door for.

  The knock came again, louder this time. Rome sighed, pushed himself to his feet, and opened the door.

  The woman on the other side was unlike anyone he’d ever seen. She was tall and lean, her black trench coat billowing around her like a shadow. Her hair was a shock of silver, cut short and sharp, and her eyes were hidden behind mirrored glasses that reflected the dim light of the hallway. She didn’t smile, didn’t introduce herself. She just stood there, her presence filling the doorway like a storm cloud.

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  “Rome Armitage,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “We need to talk.”

  Rome stared at her blankly. “Do I know you?”

  “No,” she said. “But you will.”

  She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, her boots clicking against the cracked wood floor. Rome closed the door behind her, his mind racing. Who was this woman, and what did she want with him?

  The woman didn’t sit down. She stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed, and studied Kael with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly aware of how small and cluttered his apartment was, how the peeling wallpaper and flickering fluorescent light made it look even more pathetic.

  “I’ll cut to the chase,” she said. “Someone’s gone missing in the Dreamscape. A researcher named Dr. Elias Voss. He was studying the connection between the Dreamscape and the city, and now he’s trapped. We need someone to go in and get him out.”

  Kael frowned. “And you came to me because…?”

  “Because you’re a Dreamwalker,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Kael laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Yeah, no. I’m not a Dreamwalker. I don’t do that kind of work.”

  The woman tilted her head, her glasses catching the light. “You’re Rome Armitage, aren’t you? The son of Marcus Armitage?”

  Rome froze. His father’s name hadn’t been spoken in years—not since he disappeared. He felt a pang of something sharp and painful in his chest, but he pushed it down.

  “What does my father have to do with this?” he asked, his voice tight.

  “Everything,” the woman said. “You have his gift, Rome. Whether you’ve used it or not, it’s there. And right now, it’s the only thing that can save this city.”

  She held out a small, silver device—a “Dreamkey,” she called it. It looked like a pocket watch, but instead of numbers, its face was etched with strange, swirling symbols. Kael hesitated, then took it. The metal was cold against his skin, and for a moment, he thought he felt a faint pulse, like a heartbeat.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

  “Open a portal,” the woman said. “Step into the Dreamscape. Find Dr. Voss. And don’t let the whispers pull you under.”

  Rome stared at the Dreamkey, his mind racing. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t even know if he could. But the thought of the people of Somnium not waking up—of people trapped in an endless sleep—was enough to make his stomach churn.

  “Why me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  The woman’s lips curved into a faint smile. “All other Dreamwalkers are busy, you're the only option.”

  After the woman left, Rome sat at his kitchen table, the Dreamkey clutched in his hand. He stared at it for what felt like hours, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want anything to do with the Dreamscape. But the thought of his father, of the way he’d vanished without a trace, gnawed at him.

  What if this was his chance to find answers? What if this was his chance to make a difference?

  He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the Dreamkey. “This is insane,” he muttered. But he knew, deep down, that he didn’t have a choice.