• Christopher was on top of the world. Quite literally in fact. He was flying through the clouds high above the earth. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. As he passed through the clouds, he had his eyes opened and it added to his ecstatic feeling. He felt as if he was part of the clouds themselves, passing into him as he flew.

    It all seemed as though part of a fantastic dream, and it was. Kit had after eleven months, mastered lucid dreaming. He knew it was a surprisingly short time, but he didn’t care. What mattered to him was that now he could do anything he wanted in perfect safety.

    Two nights ago, he had been inside a volcano. Instead of a feeling of intense, unbelievable heat, it had felt like a relaxing dip in a pool. He has experienced the wonders of space, rearranging the stars themselves to make his own design. He had single-handedly defeated an army of thousands, and, later, he beat Gandhi, Thomas Jefferson and Frank Sinatra in a game of Poker. And now, he soared, at first with large, majestic golden wings, but he discarded those and was now just floating.

    As he flew in circle, Christopher laughed, this was the greatest thing to happen to him. Suddenly, he started to fall. It came without warning, he just saw the ground getting closer. It felt like he was waking up, but at the same time it felt like he was falling into a deeper sleep. The ground was becoming visible, and Christopher was starting to become nervous. He tried to relax, but the ground came closer. And closer. And closer. It wouldn’t be long now, just a few more seconds and then–

    Darkness. He didn’t so much as see it as feel it. He somehow knew that he suspended in a never-ending void without having to rely on his eyes. When he finally opened them, he gasped.

    In front of him was a beautiful woman, unlike any he had ever met. Her fair, shoulder length auburn hair flowed elegantly, her sky blue eyes showed both surprise and joy, and her lips curved in a breathtaking smile. Am elegant blue dress draped over her perfect figure, covering her legs. Her arms, slender and smooth, stretched toward him. For a split second, a thought crossed Christopher's mind.

    No I’m not. I’m actually what you’d call a semi free agent.

    Christopher was taken aback, the woman’s lips had not moved, but he clearly heard her voice, powerful yet nurturing, in his mind.

    Yes, telepathy. Just one of the many things you can do, if you concentrate.

    He closed his eyes and decided to give it a try. It didn’t take him long.

    “Where am I?”

    In a place between sleeping and waking.

    “Who are you?”

    I have been called many names, but you may call me Sochi.

    “Fair enough, so why am I here? I was having a pretty good dream.”

    That’s why you’re here. Someone with your abilities deserves some recognition.

    “Really?”

    Yes, but first you must make a choice. Either you can stay in this dream world forever, or you can return the world of the awakened, never to have the ability to manipulate you dreams again.

    “That’s not fair!”

    I believe your kind has a saying. Ah yes, I do not make the rules, I just enforce them. It is your choice, make it a wise one.

    Christopher felt silent, it was just too much. He knew it shouldn’t be a hard decision, but it somehow was. On the one hand, he couldn’t bear leave his family. What would happen? Would they discover his soulless body? Or would he simply disappear, his very existence wiped from their memories?

    Yet, there was the allure of power. If he stayed, there would be limitless amounts of it. He could create whole galaxies, all things bending to his will. He could, in essence, be a god in his own world. And, if that was the case, what would be stopping him from creating a world exactly like the one he left behind, the only difference would be, he could control it, he would know everything that was coming next and could change it.

    Time seemed to fly by, yet Christopher knew the concept of time should probably not be applied. He looked at Sochi, whose arms were still outstretched, and breathed deeply.

    I choose. . .