The translation tone followed me into sleep without repeating through any waking device. I dreamed of red grass bending beneath a wind carrying no temperature, while two moons occupied opposite horizons without reflecting any familiar sunlight.
One appeared pale green behind thin cloud, while the second burned copper above a black tree line. Neither impossible moon reflected any familiar sunlight from a star appearing inside the dream. My dream body stood beneath both moons without physical weight, visible breath, or any shadow.
A stone arch rose from the grass with no wall attached toward it. Silver marks covered its surface in the same pattern hidden upon the festival access token.
I approached without deciding to move, dragged through perspective rather than walking. Every step changed the stars overhead into unfamiliar arrangements my memory could not hold.
