I found myself in a place that I could best describe as… idyllic but creepy beyond belief.

  A vision confronted me, bathed in hues more vibrant than anything I'd experienced before. Warmth from an unseen sun soaked into my skin, grass crunched softly beneath my feet, and a dense fog cloaked the land, obscuring my surroundings. Trees, lush and towering, surrounded me in a thick circle. Colorful flowers peeked out from the underbrush, their petals shimmering with an iridescent sheen. It was almost… too perfect.

  I looked around, trying to get a grasp on my surroundings. Everything felt… off, somehow. A sense of unease gnawed at me, a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

  As I walked through the forest, I noticed that the colors of the trees and plants were too bright, almost garish, like a graphic designer's photorealistic drawing of nature come to life.

  The sound of the wind rustling the leaves was deafening, and I could hear the faintest hint of whispers in the wind. It was like the wind was speaking, but the words were unintelligible, and they sent a shiver down my spine.

  A sense of unease crept up on me as I moved. There was a dissonance in this place, an intangible wrongness. The air seemed to press against me, stifling and oppressive, and each step I took felt labored and exhausting, like I was wading through an invisible resistance. It wasn't natural, like something was trying to prevent me from moving forward.

  A soft wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and something else, something ancient and unsettling. The leaves rustled with a sound that seemed to echo endlessly in the mist, and the shadows between the trees seemed to dance and shift, as if alive.

  It was like a dream, but not quite. It felt too real. The sensations were too acute, the emotions too raw. Fear, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of dread gripped me. I had to find a way out.

  The mist around me was thick and suffocating, and it seemed to absorb all sounds. My footsteps were muffled, and even my breathing sounded distant and muted.

  In the distance, an orange glow flickered gently, piercing through the fog. It beckoned me with an urgency I couldn’t explain, pulling me forward as if something terrible would happen should I fail to reach it. I didn’t know why, but I just had this feeling that something would go wrong if I didn’t.

  My heart pounded in my chest as I broke through the trees and was greeted by a sight that took my breath away.

  There was a large stone temple, with a massive set of steps that led to an entrance flanked by two large statues. I stood in front of a massive Torii gate, the kind that marked the entrance to Shinto shrines. The gate was made of wood, and was painted a bright red, with a chozu-ya — a traditional Japanese purification shrine fountain, just beyond the gate.

  My curiosity overtook me, and I moved closer, drawn in by the mysterious beauty of the place. As I got closer, I noticed something strange.

  The chozu-ya was overflowing, the water spilling over the sides and onto the ground. Steam curled up from the fountain, and I could feel the heat emanating from it. The light shone from the gates at the top of the stairs, beckoning to me.

  Drawn by the light, I quickly ran up the stairs and stopped short as I realized that the door was covered in strange symbols and runes. They were unlike any language I had ever seen before. I stepped closer, and noticed that the orange light was the centerpiece of an intricate mural of ancient symbols behind it, plastered on a cedar door at the top of the steps.

  They seemed to pulse with a strange energy, almost as if they were alive. As I studied the door, the symbols began to shift and rearrange themselves, forming new patterns and shapes that I couldn’t understand.

  Curiosity overcame me, and I slowly reached my hand out at it, mesmerized by the haunting beauty of the light.

  "No..."

  The zen-like calm of the environment was broken by the sound of a distorted voice. It seemed to echo off the temple stone walls, coming from all directions simultaneously. The voice echoed again, but I ignored it, entranced by the orange gem.

  The feeling was almost hypnotic, and I felt a strong urge to touch it. But I also knew that something wasn't right, something lurking in the shadows that made me hesitate.

  "Ik... l... y...lways."

  It was a woman's voice, unfamiliar yet strangely familiar like I had heard it before. I froze, my hand hovering over the light.

  Suddenly, I was overcome with an enormous sense of dread and quickly backed away from the temple.

  I blinked, stepping away from the temple entrance. The fog had thickened, obscuring everything around me until all I could make out was the temple silhouette fading into the distance. I turned around, looking for the source of the voice.

  "Ika..." The voice whispered again, filled with longing and desperation. The words were now more distinct, but the voice still had an unearthly quality to it.

  "Wh-who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling. I felt my heart race, my palms sweaty as I scanned the surroundings, trying to find the speaker.

  I followed the voice, pushing through the fog as I broke into a sprint. My breath was ragged, and my heart was pounding as I stumbled forward. I was desperate to find the owner of the voice, desperate to know what was happening and why I was in this strange place.

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  The voice grew louder and more insistent, guiding me towards it. It was a constant whispering in my ear, urging me forward, and I felt an almost overwhelming compulsion to follow it.

  And suddenly, the fog cleared away above my waist. The misty trees were gone, replaced by lush greenery and neat pathways. I was in the city, surrounded by buildings of all kinds in the distance. The sensation underfoot shifted between cool, dewy grass and cobblestone pathways, even though I couldn't see either through the curling wisps.

  The voice wove its way through the mists again. Clearer this time.

  "Ikazuchi."

  It was a whisper, a plea, a call.

  Tendrils of vapor curled and twisted as I tried to locate the source. The voice was all around, yet always just out of reach. I slowly walked through the fog, the voice echoing in my ears as I searched. I was desperate to find it, to find her. I could feel it in my bones, an overwhelming sense of urgency that pushed me forward despite the fear that gnawed at my gut.

  And then, the mist began to thin out, revealing the ghostly silhouette of an old city park. Swings swayed in the wind, and a playground stood eerily still. I felt a chill run down my spine as I stepped into the park.

  But nestled at the center of the park was a figure — black hair fell delicately down her back, and the hem of a red and white dress rippled in a non-existent breeze.

  I recognized her. And that dress. It was unmistakable. In a way, Izumi's face was a living memory of the woman standing in front of me. My sister took after my mother's so much that it was unbelievable. I swallowed hard, not wanting to believe what I was seeing.

  She turned to face me, and our eyes met. My mother's gaze was as kind and warm as I remembered, and my heart ached at the sight. Her voice was a soothing melody, a balm to my troubled mind. Her nose and smile were so similar to Izumi's, and her hair was the same obsidian black. I wanted to run to her, to embrace her, to feel her comforting arms around me.

  I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, to apologize for not being there, to promise to do better. But the words caught in my throat, and all I could do was stare at her, tears streaming down my face.

  "M-mom?" My voice trembled.

  She turned, her face mirroring the gentle warmth I remembered, but her eyes—there was a depth to them I couldn't place.

  "Ikazuchi, my heart," she murmured, her voice like a wind-chime in a gentle breeze. I found myself stepping closer, my hand outstretched, wanting to touch her, to confirm that she was real.

  As I approached, I noticed the odd way the trees bent, the way the light seemed fractured, and the peculiar hue of the skies. My heart raced, an uneasy feeling settling within me.

  "Mom..." I started, my voice shaky as I stopped walking forward. "Where are we?"

  Her lips curved into a sad, knowing smile, and she gestured around. "Look closely, my son."

  I squinted, trying to decipher what she wanted me to see. It was then that I realized something was off. The park was too quiet, too empty. The air swirled around me, and the world around us felt like it was tilting. The trees around us seemed to bend and twist in impossible angles, their trunks splintering and their leaves withering.

  The sky was a sickly orange hue, casting an eerie light on everything.

  "This isn't real, is it?" I whispered, shaking my head.

  Mom's expression turned somber. "No, it is not. You're in a dream. Trapped for now by that woman's tool."

  She stepped closer to me, her small hand reaching out to touch my cheek. Her touch was gentle, and it sent shivers up my spine.

  I shook my head, struggling to comprehend. "How? Why? Why is everything so... lucid?"

  Mom stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You've been affected by a terrible power, my son. Your mind and soul have been placed into stasis, and this space is a manifestation of that. But, Ikazuchi, you have to wake up. Your father needs you, as will your sister soon enough."

  I stared at her, my mind reeling with confusion and a sense of urgency.

  "Are you real?" I asked weakly. Hopefully. "Are you really here?"

  She smiled sadly, her eyes filled with warmth and longing.

  "Does it matter?" Mom's voice was soft and kind. "What matters is that you wake up and return to the real world to help your father. And soon, your sister."

  My father? My sister?

  I nodded, still unsure of what was real and what was not as I centered my focus. "How do I wake up?"

  "You must fight against it," Mom replied. "It helps to focus on the things that make you strong. The things that remind you of why you are here, of your purpose."

  I furrowed my brow, trying to keep my anxiety at bay. "Okay. How, how does that work? I mean, how do I go against this… thing?"

  Mom smiled and gently grabbed my hands, lifting them up. "By remembering, my son, by believing that you are worthy of freedom and choice."

  A strange energy flooded my senses, engulfing us both in a blue glow. It reminded me of the sun shining through my windows on a cloudless day. Warm and radiant, it filled me with a sense of comfort and safety that was so distinctly Mom, I almost forgot to breathe.

  "Your most cherished memories will give you strength when you need it. Remember that," she instructed, a smile breaking out on her face. "The memories that hold the most meaning, the ones that make your heart sing and bring a smile to your face. Those are the ones that will anchor you to reality. Now, go. Break free from this terrible power, my son."

  I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "I'll... I'll try, Mom."

  She smiled sadly. "I know you will, my heart. And always remember, I am with you always, even when you can't see or hear me."

  I nodded and closed my eyes, focusing on every moment that I'd spent with Mom. The days I'd spent with Izumi at our run-down home in our childhood after she died. The times when Izumi would mischievously doodle on my drawing paper, and I'd chase her down and tickle her until she squealed with laughter.

  And then I thought of all the times that Dad would surprise her with a bundle of dandelions and a heartfelt pat on the head, of the times we would all sit together on our couch and watch old movies. The times when we would share stories about our day or about the things that we loved. I felt a surge of energy flow through me, and I opened my eyes to find the world shifting and bending around me.

  I could feel the warmth spreading through my body, growing steadily brighter and stronger. I could hear Mom's voice fading into the distance, but her gentle words carried me.

  "Ikazuchi," she said, her voice echoing in the distance. "Focus."

  The sensation was indescribable, and my vision faded to white, leaving me suspended in a sea of nothingness. For a moment, I wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't.

  Then, a memory popped into my mind, unbidden.

  Mom teaching me to ride a tricycle, her steady hands guiding me down our street. It was like a thread pulling me back to reality, out of the false world.

  And another.

  Peering over the newborn Izumi's crib as her tiny, fragile form wriggled in her sleep. Her tiny fists balling as she slept.

  I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. The dream felt so real and tangible, but I knew it wasn't in my heart. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations of my physical body.

  I needed to wake up for Dad, Blake, Jae, and Alex. I'd promised Izumi I'd come home, as well.

  I focused on moving my fingers, then my toes. It was a struggle, like moving through thick mud with an out-of-body experience, but I persisted.

  With each movement, the dream world faded, becoming less vivid. I could feel my heart racing faster and faster and my breathing becoming more labored. The effort of waking up took a physical toll on my body, but that painful sensation grounded and centered me.

  And then, with one final burst of effort, I somehow managed to open my eyes.