The morning sun didn't shine.
It bled.
Thin red light leaked through the clouds, turning the sky the color of old bruises. The city skyline looked wrong—stretched, distant, like a fading photograph.
I stood at the window of my apartment, shovel leaning against the wall. I hadn't slept. I couldn't. Every time I blinked, I saw her—The girl in the coffin.Her sewn mouth. Her pale hands. Her voice that wasn't hers.
She wasn't here anymore. But something had stayed.
I could feel it.
"You brought me back."
I checked my phone.
No missed calls.No messages.But the date...
It wasn't the same.
It had only been one night in the Deadzone.But three days had passed in the real world.
That's when I noticed the news.
I didn't remember tapping anything, but the screen was open:
"Another Victim of the Sleepfall – Missing Student Found Dead in Locked Apartment""...fifth reported case this month. No signs of forced entry. Body discovered with fingernails clawed off and dirt in the lungs..."
"...victim's eyes were open and appeared to be watching something."
"His hands were holding a pillow, as if trying to bury it."
My stomach twisted.
Because I knew that boy.We went to the same college.
His name had been on a tombstone. I passed it. Didn't stop. Didn't help.
He didn't make it back.
[Burial Delay Advantage Active – You return earlier than other dreamers.]
But others are waking up now.
Some buried.Some did not.
I pulled on clean clothes. Washed my hands. Left the shovel behind—only to watch it reappear leaning against the door the second I turned my back.
Figures.
Bound items don't like to be abandoned.
📍 Outside
The world looked normal.But you could tell something was off if you looked long enough.
The old man sweeping the sidewalk paused every few seconds and stared into the sky like he expected it to fall.
A group of school kids walked past—but one of them had a black mark crawling up her neck, almost invisible.
And a girl stood at the bus stop, crying silently, her reflection smiling in the glass.
Something had shifted.
Not everyone knew it yet. But I could see it.
[New Objective: Find Other Returners]
The Deadzone marks those who escape it. You'll know them when you see them.
Tip: Only the dead can see the truth in the living.
That's when I saw him.
Across the street.Leaning against a wall, watching me with hollow eyes.
Late 20s. Leather coat. Bandaged wrist. A crow feather tied to his backpack.And around his neck—a pendant made of bone.
He nodded once.
Then turned and walked into the alley.
No words. No threat.
But it was clear:
He knew what I was.
And he wanted me to follow.