3/5/2026, 7:24 AM
Story Unlocked, Part Six : 「 Awakening 」
You sleep again and feel yourself transported. It is familiar, and yet... there is a sense of finality about it this time. You aren't sure why, but you feel as though this is the last time you will be summoned here.
The dream materializes. You are suddenly placed into the heart of a lush, sprawling forest that extends for miles. Trees of emerald green scatter along the horizon - and it is a sight you have missed in these days of bleak winter darkness. You look outward to endless plains that extend into the distance... the mountains are so high that they seem to touch the clouds themselves. It is serenity.
All seems peaceful and quiet.
And you suddenly recognize this view.
You are... at the beginning. Your beginning. Your awakening.
The vision seems to blink - and the first wolf opens its eyes. It is terrified. As the scene broadens, more and more wolves awaken across the vast continent, one by one, then in great numbers. All are confused; all are afraid. None belong to this world.
You are yourself in these first moments again, and you stand, blinking beneath the pale light of an ancient sun in a paradise grown atop the ruins of what once was.
Yet you thrive.
The Mythris from before, that terrible vision of fire and heat and peril, has passed away and renewed itself. You make friends here, forge connections, create families and claim land to call home.
A rising anger seeps into the dream.
Mythris rouses; it remembers what the vermin became. It does not know how you arrived here - it surely did not create you - but memory is enough. The monstrous cycle will not begin again.
As Mythris awakens, an electric force surges through the land, lacing the very rock beneath your paws down to its core.
Never again.
Seasons grind past as the continent groans and reshapes itself, twisting unseen in slow, colossal motions as it gradually regains its strength. Tunnels open beneath the earth where none existed before. Caverns appear and awaken with an unnatural light glowing from within, casting strange visions upon those who wander too far into their depths. The wolves suffer waking dreams, feverish hallucinations, a litany of torments and pleasures alike that blur the line between sleep and reality in this alien world. Mythris no longer holds the strength to call down the stars again - but there are other ways.
The Moving Isle heaves itself from the sea after immeasurable ages spent dormant, driven upward as Mythris convulses against its own unstable power. Quietly, inexorably, the Isle drifts beyond the coastline, each day rising somewhere new, drawn toward the crackling force that hums just beneath the crust of the earth with the purpose to silence it once more.
Then the vision fractures.
Through each splintered shard you are able to glimpse the plagues that ravaged every corner of the land and the suffering left in their wake. Dre Klage wanders the world, laughing wetly through lungs filled with poison.
The wolves are dying, but not quickly enough. They're too clever, too fast, and the plagues do not reach them all.
The plagues lift, a momentary reprieve, and something else takes their place.
Across the horizon, a vast wall of clouds begins to close in; the sun dims day by day until the sky pulls itself into a suffocating shroud. Darkness spreads across the land, far deeper than anything you have known before, and strange, frightening shadows twist at the edges of your vision. Snow begins to fall, slow and steady and endless, until the world is gradually buried beneath a silent white grave.
This is today, you realize. This is here. Now.
This is the slow death Mythris has planned for you. It seems hopeless to fight it; how can you tear down the sky? How can you call back the sun?
Then, unexpectedly, comes a sound.
The earth shudders violently as a piercing shriek rises through the bedrock itself, drilling straight into your mind without end until you fear it might drive you mad.
You see the Moving Isle in the distance, but something is wrong.
Suddenly the ground cracks beneath you, and you just manage to tumble out of the way as fissures begin opening up all around you, splitting the earth into hundreds of gaping wounds that glow with a wrathful blue light. Electricity arcs and crackles within them like living lightning. The Isle trembles - and changes its course.
You don't understand. It's moving away from the fissures, yet the Isle was meant to suppress this ancient power.
... But as it drifts near a different shoreline, the ground there begins to tear itself apart.
Mythris screams.
Another fissure rips open in front of you, and pure instinct drives you to run.
A ghostly figure materializes in front of you, forcing you to a halt. The Dream Visitor stands quietly, gazing toward the Isle as the shoreline splits and tears itself to pieces beneath its terrible presence.
---
You open your eyes.
You lay precisely where the Visitor left you within the dream, sprawled across the ground in a tangle of limbs. As you struggle to your paws, a cold realization settles in your chest as you look out upon a fractured landscape crackling with rage.
Everything you saw has already begun to come true.
All creatures of Mythris experience this dream.
Those who were not involved IC before will likely be confused or frightened, as they were not aware of anything regarding the situation prior.
Those who were not involved IC before will likely be confused or frightened, as they were not aware of anything regarding the situation prior.
You sleep again and feel yourself transported. It is familiar, and yet... there is a sense of finality about it this time. You aren't sure why, but you feel as though this is the last time you will be summoned here.
The dream materializes. You are suddenly placed into the heart of a lush, sprawling forest that extends for miles. Trees of emerald green scatter along the horizon - and it is a sight you have missed in these days of bleak winter darkness. You look outward to endless plains that extend into the distance... the mountains are so high that they seem to touch the clouds themselves. It is serenity.
All seems peaceful and quiet.
And you suddenly recognize this view.
You are... at the beginning. Your beginning. Your awakening.
The vision seems to blink - and the first wolf opens its eyes. It is terrified. As the scene broadens, more and more wolves awaken across the vast continent, one by one, then in great numbers. All are confused; all are afraid. None belong to this world.
You are yourself in these first moments again, and you stand, blinking beneath the pale light of an ancient sun in a paradise grown atop the ruins of what once was.
Yet you thrive.
The Mythris from before, that terrible vision of fire and heat and peril, has passed away and renewed itself. You make friends here, forge connections, create families and claim land to call home.
A rising anger seeps into the dream.
Mythris rouses; it remembers what the vermin became. It does not know how you arrived here - it surely did not create you - but memory is enough. The monstrous cycle will not begin again.
As Mythris awakens, an electric force surges through the land, lacing the very rock beneath your paws down to its core.
Never again.
Seasons grind past as the continent groans and reshapes itself, twisting unseen in slow, colossal motions as it gradually regains its strength. Tunnels open beneath the earth where none existed before. Caverns appear and awaken with an unnatural light glowing from within, casting strange visions upon those who wander too far into their depths. The wolves suffer waking dreams, feverish hallucinations, a litany of torments and pleasures alike that blur the line between sleep and reality in this alien world. Mythris no longer holds the strength to call down the stars again - but there are other ways.
The Moving Isle heaves itself from the sea after immeasurable ages spent dormant, driven upward as Mythris convulses against its own unstable power. Quietly, inexorably, the Isle drifts beyond the coastline, each day rising somewhere new, drawn toward the crackling force that hums just beneath the crust of the earth with the purpose to silence it once more.
Then the vision fractures.
Through each splintered shard you are able to glimpse the plagues that ravaged every corner of the land and the suffering left in their wake. Dre Klage wanders the world, laughing wetly through lungs filled with poison.
The wolves are dying, but not quickly enough. They're too clever, too fast, and the plagues do not reach them all.
The plagues lift, a momentary reprieve, and something else takes their place.
Across the horizon, a vast wall of clouds begins to close in; the sun dims day by day until the sky pulls itself into a suffocating shroud. Darkness spreads across the land, far deeper than anything you have known before, and strange, frightening shadows twist at the edges of your vision. Snow begins to fall, slow and steady and endless, until the world is gradually buried beneath a silent white grave.
This is today, you realize. This is here. Now.
This is the slow death Mythris has planned for you. It seems hopeless to fight it; how can you tear down the sky? How can you call back the sun?
Then, unexpectedly, comes a sound.
The earth shudders violently as a piercing shriek rises through the bedrock itself, drilling straight into your mind without end until you fear it might drive you mad.
You see the Moving Isle in the distance, but something is wrong.
Suddenly the ground cracks beneath you, and you just manage to tumble out of the way as fissures begin opening up all around you, splitting the earth into hundreds of gaping wounds that glow with a wrathful blue light. Electricity arcs and crackles within them like living lightning. The Isle trembles - and changes its course.
You don't understand. It's moving away from the fissures, yet the Isle was meant to suppress this ancient power.
... But as it drifts near a different shoreline, the ground there begins to tear itself apart.
Mythris screams.
Another fissure rips open in front of you, and pure instinct drives you to run.
Drire sepal kin kina,a familiar voice speaks gently into your mind, warm and soothing. You're still sprinting. You don't care.
Sak iat dre remonind runal. Drio tyl iat ali sepa fialn, aln shiel drial hiltenil kate, yia win hur drem fer mire krurfir - weip yia ere nie atse ali hur eipa agon.
A ghostly figure materializes in front of you, forcing you to a halt. The Dream Visitor stands quietly, gazing toward the Isle as the shoreline splits and tears itself to pieces beneath its terrible presence.
Dre runal win oken dre wa.
---
You open your eyes.
You lay precisely where the Visitor left you within the dream, sprawled across the ground in a tangle of limbs. As you struggle to your paws, a cold realization settles in your chest as you look out upon a fractured landscape crackling with rage.
Everything you saw has already begun to come true.
Plot Progression : 「 The Frozen Mourning 」
There will be two weeks of expedited Rune hunting; for each Rune investigation thread submitted, the Narrator will only reply once with an immediate success or failure.
Every single character who participates regardless of whether or not they are successful will receive a small reward. At the end of this two weeks, on March 18th, the plot will progress into its final phase where you will be given a choice.
See you in two weeks, Rune hunters!
Every single character who participates regardless of whether or not they are successful will receive a small reward. At the end of this two weeks, on March 18th, the plot will progress into its final phase where you will be given a choice.
See you in two weeks, Rune hunters!