Wolfgang is not much of a lucid dreamer. He's tried a couple times, but the dreams trap him in them and he can't do anything about them, has only ever been able to realise he's dreaming and then been locked into it, aware of what will happen and powerless to stop it. It's worse that way, so he stopped trying.
But his subconscious has the same urge to run, to get away from these — but run to where? Where can he go where they can't follow, if they're in his mind? The landscape Benji is fleeing into begins to twist, mimicking that shape and pulling her down with it, trying to lead her somewhere neither of them wants her to go. There is nowhere to run where they aren't, because they're coming up the edges of the cliffs from the cracks they emerge from —
The landscape keeps shifting, changing. It turns into a field, this time in the height of spring, or it must be, anyway, the grass is so green, and as far as can be seen in any direction there's only more field and horizon, a perfectly flat expanse of land where there is nowhere for anything to hide. It should be safer. But it's not, because all anyone has to do is look up at the shape of the clouds as they darken and start to spiral —
The ground fractures and begins to collapse — not a quick fall into a pit, but a gentle breaking apart as the edges crumble and fall into a black void full of bright lights which are like stars but are not actually anything.
The High Umbra is not safe by any stretch of the imagination for mortals, but that's how his subconscious thinks of it — safer than the material world, where people are cruel and petty and selfish. Here, things are what they are in the barest terms. It's a place of abstraction, where concepts live and the mind has to struggle to give them form in a way mortal senses can comprehend. Here, it's like standing in the middle of the vacuum of space where in the distance great, glowing figures with constantly shifting shapes keep drifting by, serene and indifferent.
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But his subconscious has the same urge to run, to get away from these — but run to where? Where can he go where they can't follow, if they're in his mind? The landscape Benji is fleeing into begins to twist, mimicking that shape and pulling her down with it, trying to lead her somewhere neither of them wants her to go. There is nowhere to run where they aren't, because they're coming up the edges of the cliffs from the cracks they emerge from —
The landscape keeps shifting, changing. It turns into a field, this time in the height of spring, or it must be, anyway, the grass is so green, and as far as can be seen in any direction there's only more field and horizon, a perfectly flat expanse of land where there is nowhere for anything to hide. It should be safer. But it's not, because all anyone has to do is look up at the shape of the clouds as they darken and start to spiral —
The ground fractures and begins to collapse — not a quick fall into a pit, but a gentle breaking apart as the edges crumble and fall into a black void full of bright lights which are like stars but are not actually anything.
The High Umbra is not safe by any stretch of the imagination for mortals, but that's how his subconscious thinks of it — safer than the material world, where people are cruel and petty and selfish. Here, things are what they are in the barest terms. It's a place of abstraction, where concepts live and the mind has to struggle to give them form in a way mortal senses can comprehend. Here, it's like standing in the middle of the vacuum of space where in the distance great, glowing figures with constantly shifting shapes keep drifting by, serene and indifferent.