"I entered the dream world again… Phew!"
The transition was like a sudden drop into a pool of warm, golden liquid. Thomas stood on the deck of the Sovereign Voyager, his lungs filling with the crisp, ethereal air of the white fog.
For a terrifying moment back in his apartment, as he leaned his head against the cool tiles of the shower, he had feared that his exhaustion might backfire. He had worried that his mind would collapse into a protective, dreamless coma, severing his link to the ship just when he needed it most.
But the ship had answered his call.
He was back. He felt the familiar, heavy weight of the obsidian throne beneath him and the comforting, rhythmic pulse of the tree pedestal at his side. He wasn't just a suspect anymore; he was the Joker.
