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The Dreamer --- The noise outside slipped away as his breathing became deeper and more rhythmic. Falling, falling,
falling into the realm of Nocte, every sense more alive, anything possible in the dreamworld. The now-familiar landscape appeared
before him, a limitless space populated by irregular cloud shapes in a myriad of colors and sizes. Occasional flashes of energy
lit the plane as dreams boiled and churned, constantly developing and changing, fueled by The Dreamer's imagination. By approaching
one of the clouds and lightly brushing the mist and energy, pictures and sounds leap to mind. It is an oft-repeated ritual,
bathing in someone else's mind, inhaling their mental energies like a fine cigar.
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