In the midst of a world that was gray and wet, the creature stirred, and the sound of metallic clatter was dulled by wind and rain.

The creature was hunting.

Its black wings still shifted occasionally between the solid firmness of what they were becoming, and the wavering mix of shadow and nightmare they had once been. The entity felt stronger now, with a renewed sense of certain accomplishment. As the evolution quickened, so did its hope. Success—the preparation—was at hand.

The rain intensified, pelting the creature from all sides as the wind tore haphazardly from every direction. The heavy chain hanging around its neck was beginning to hurt, but the thought of what lay ahead enlivened and encouraged the winged beast. It would be worth it, the pain of carrying the chain in this long and arduous flight. Well, the chains. The flying abomination was not alone.

If the storm were to abate, the sounds of flapping wings and rattling chains would have filled the air with a frightening sense of doom. They were many, and their purpose was one. This was fortunate considering the bad weather.

The creature strained its black eyes to see into the distance, but it was hopeless. There was only gray, and the quick sparkles of thrashing rain. The roar of the wind made communication impossible.

So they flew, and they searched, and they waited for the storm to end its fury.

There, in the distance, something caught the creature's attention.

It was impossible to tell for sure, but it was at least different from the constant blurry visage of the past few hours of the storm. Something dark, far below, moving up and down in a definite pattern, a contrast from the random movement of cloud and rain. Could it be?

The others did not see it yet. After a long intake of breath, the creature let out a piercing scream, putting all of its effort into making the cry louder than the sound of the storm. Most of the others looked, and came closer to find out what was transpiring.

Since speaking was out of the question, the beast merely pointed toward the dark object below. The others nodded.

They began their descent, chains and wings flapping in the wind.

They had finally found me.

There is a place, where a ribbon of black marble cuts through an inky sea of gray waters. The stone-cold path goes on forever in both directions, no one yet ever reaching an end on either side. The monotony, the sameness, of the lonely trail is only broken by round landings of stone with stacked iron rings in the middle, gateways to countless worlds. There is no sky; at least, the swirling mists never allow the sight of it.

The Black Curtain, the rift between that world and ours was beginning to rip once again, the Blocking steadily losing its power.

The place of frightful wonder to which the Curtain leads is called The Blackness.

I had been there before.

I would be returning very soon.

I'm Jimmy Fincher, and this is my nightmare.

There is so much that I must do.

I must find the Tower of Three Days,

and understand its secret.

I must seek out the one known as Erifani Tup.

I must solve the riddle of the Red Disk.

Most important of all, I must find the only one

who can save us all.

I must find the Dream Warden.

There is so much that I must do …