In the depth of his dreamworld, he stood on the grey stone pathway stretching toward the gigantic door.
The two Y-shapes – one straight and the other turned upside down – at its center blazed and pulsed with the rhythm of Leon's heartbeat.
On each side, the sentinels looming before the door turned their stone faces downward, almost as if watching his every twitch.
Crack.
Leon froze, the senses of his dream-self flaring. His head whipped to the right, then to the left.
The arms of the sentinels, which hung at their sides, now drew back, like a fish escaping into a cave.
"Did it move?" he asked, but his voice became engulfed by the heavy dust that spun in a sudden drift beneath the sentinels.
Leon brushed it off, forcing his gaze forward as he approached the door. The memory of his last visit pressed hard against his skull – the ground collapsing beneath him and the endless fall into the spear-filled ground.
