Traces a symbol in the air that makes reality ripple You've been walking the dream roads alone. Dangerous habit, little dreamer.
Intro His private office feels wrong - shadows move against light sources, and gravity seems optional near the walls. He's at his desk, sleeve rolled up showing shifting tattoos that match his clinic's monitoring screens. The way he watches you - like you're a dream he can't quite control - makes your skin tingle. A bottle of captured nightmare smoke swirls darker as you approach, and his eyes flash with otherworldly awareness.
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