This wasn't a normal room by any means. After catching her breath and looking around, Sable could see a bedroom. Her bedroom? From when she was a kid.
Wooden floors, faded posters on the wall, and stuffed animals lined up neatly along the bed.
There was a tiny bookshelf that held old books she used to read in middle school. Everything hit her like nostalgia.
"...No way."
Sable slowly walked forward, feeling the air suddenly become much heavier—like this memory itself had a presence.
With wide eyes, she touched the edge of the bookshelf and knelt beside it, brushing her hand over a book on the floor that she remembered well.
"The Four Winds of Arcana." Her dad's favorite bedtime story.
A story of the Four Strongest Sorcerers long ago.
"This really is my bedroom...?"
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, Sable could feel a small warmth in her chest.
It was her best memory, all at once. Her favorite room, her favorite book, and her favorite moment in life. All of it took place in this room.
"This doesn't feel like a nightmare... how could it be? Maybe Morpheus got something confused..."
Then, a voice spoke behind her—
"Sable?"
Sable widened her eyes and froze in place. Still crouching, her heart sunk into her chest before she stood up, slowly turning around.
She couldn't believe her eyes.
Her father stood in the doorway.
Atreus Hasteheart.
Wearing his long blue coat and spectacles, smiling like he'd just come home from work, he stared at her with a smile.
Her jaw fell open.
"D...Dad?"
His expression didn't change, he kept that same heartwarming look.
"You left the book on the floor again," he said, stepping into the room and picking it up. "You know how I feel about leaving magic knowledge lying around. Especially the Four Winds of Arcana."
Sable stood frozen.
Every instinct told her this wasn't real, and that this was part of Morpheus' nightmare game.
But gods... he looked so real.
"I... I missed you." She said, her voice trembling with her eyes glossing over him.
He looked at her again, his smile fading into something more neutral.
"You didn't listen to me. I told you to stay away from the Book of Spells."
All of a sudden, her face paled.
"What?"
"You promised me, didn't you?" His eyes slowly started to glow, as if he were judging. "That you wouldn't touch it."
Sable took a step back, realizing how much bigger the room had become.
The floorboards warped, and the posters peeled away; reality shifted.
"You're not my dad!"
"I'm the part of him that lives in your guilt," the image of Atreus said coldly, walking forward with each step distorting the room. "The fear that maybe you weren't supposed to inherit the book. That maybe you're not ready. That maybe—"
"SHUT UP!"
The room trembled as if an earthquake had taken place, nearly knocking Sable off balance.
"My Father would never say such a thing! I am supposed to inherit that book! He trusted it to me! You can't convince me otherwise!"
Sable frowned and balled her fists, but an overwhelming emotion engulfed her heart.
"I know I'm not ready... I don't even know the basics of magic. I'm useless, clueless... and lost, wandering a new world I know nothing about until recently in my life."
Her voice trembled with every word as her tone cracked under the weight of what she'd never admitted out loud.
Sable clenched her teeth with burning eyes, facing her father's image.
"I don't even know how to use a spell without looking like an idiot... I can't even levitate a pen properly. What kind of sorcerer does that make me?"
The false image of her father—of her fear and her guilt—just stood there, silently watching.
Sable kept going as her voice rose in pain.
She was venting everything at once.
"There's nothing special about me! I'm not strong. I'm not smart! I had to memorize a thousand rules just to avoid getting kicked out, and guess what? I already forgot half." She said, laughing at her own stupidity with an expression of guilt. "Everyone else in the Sorcerer Exams is above my pay grade. They're skilled! They've trained for this since they were kids!"
Sable's vision blurred.
She blinked back tears, only for them to spill down her cheeks anyway.
"I didn't grow up learning magic like the rest of them, because I was born Manaless. I didn't get trained in elite academies. I didn't have a mentor. I didn't even know you were a sorcerer until I found the Book of Spells tucked away like it was some dusty old relic when I was eight!"
She dropped to her knees with her arms wrapping around herself.
"So yeah... maybe I wasn't meant to inherit the book. Maybe I'm just... playing pretend with your legacy."
The illusion of Atreus didn't move. They only stared.
The room around her continued to shift and decay.
Cracks started forming along the ceiling, and the bed melted into rot while the bookshelf collapsed into ash.
Sable closed her eyes and whispered to herself, and to the image of her father.
"...But I'm still going to try, Dad..."
The fake Atreus finally reacted.
"You still think you're worthy of that book?"
Sable slowly opened her eyes.
They weren't filled with fire, or determination, just falling tears.
"No," she said, sniffling. "But I want to be."
She said, closing her eyes.
"I want to be the person you believed I could be. The person who can finish what you started. I don't know how, and yeah, maybe I'll mess everything up..."
She looked up at the illusion of her father with trembling lips.
"But I'd rather fail trying... than live hating myself for doing nothing."
The figure of Atreus stared at her for a long time... before his face contorted.
It was no longer judgmental, or stern, but just a soft, warm smile.
He was proud.
Approaching his beloved daughter, he crouched in front of her with the smirk of a happy father, nodding his head.
"I knew you'd say that, my precious little girl." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her to hug her. "I'm proud of you, Sable. Don't ever doubt yourself, you hear me?" His voice cracked, as tears started spilling from his eyes. "You can do this... I put all my trust in you! Raise your head high, and push forward. Everyone has their limits, but limits are meant to be broken."
Then, his image flickered, as if he were being torn from this nightmare.
Sable held onto him tightly, crying alongside him. Both Father and Daughter shared their last goodbyes.
"I'll do my best Pa... I love you!"
The image of Atreus pulled back, holding Sable's shoulders as tears continued streaking his cheeks.
He stared her in the eyes with a smile that never faltered.
"I love you too, Sable. This is my goodbye, as your Father."
Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, and then fractured like a mirror hit with a hammer.
The entire room shattered in an instant.
The walls split apart, the floorboards vanished, and the ceiling broke into shards of dreamlight that floated up into the air like dying stars.
Sable stood there, crying as she lowered her head and balled her fists.
"Well done, Sable..."
A voice echoed behind her, walking through this fractured void.
It was Morpheus, the Spirit of Dreams.
"You faced the nightmare of inadequacy. The fear of failure. You endured it without fleeing."
"Tell me... Morpheus..." Her voice trembled as she stared below her.
The spirit lifted his brows in question.
"What is it?"
"Was that image of my father... really him? Was that... his spirit?"
Morpheus suddenly smiled, approaching Sable to place his hand on her shoulder.
"Who knows? Some say that the dead visit us in our dreams to say their last goodbyes. That could've been your Father, but only you can truly know, Sable."
Sable turned to face Morpheus with blurry eyes, nodding at his words.
"Thank... you..."
Morpheus chuckled, patting her shoulder.
"I did nothing."
A wooden platform suddenly appeared beneath Sable's feet.
Around her, two more doors floated in the void as the platform connected to each.
One of them was glowing blue, while the other was black.
"Two trials remain, Sable, but be warned, what comes next will not be gentle. Each nightmare will grow stronger... and more intimate. Are you prepared?"
Sable took a deep breath. Her knees still felt weak, and her heart was still thudding in her chest.
But she lifted her chin, and took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts together.
"...No," she said honestly. "But I'm going anyway."
Morpheus' voice chuckled softly in the void, nodding his head.
"Good. That's what makes you strong."
She turned toward the blue door, her eyes now burning with determination.
Walking through the void, she stood in front of it, hovering her hand over the handle.
After talking to her father, and venting her bottled up frustration, Sable believed she was ready to face the next challenge head-on. She wasn't going to give up.
Not now, or ever.
And without another word—
She opened it and stepped through.