Dreams had begun to stir more strongly as the cosmos spread outward, not only into form but into potential. Each galaxy was a question, each star a promise. Dream felt the pull of that boundlessness like a tide drawing at his cloak.
He knew who awaited him.
Leaving his realm, Dream stepped into the still-young void, past spirals of galaxies and the scattering light of stars newly born. And there she was — not hidden, not distant, but everywhere.
Infinity.
Her form stretched beyond sight, her presence limitless. Where Eternity's shape was the now of the cosmos, Infinity was its endless horizon. Her eyes shimmered with the suggestion of infinite stars, her breath the endless expansion of all things.
She turned toward Dream, her expression both familiar and alien. "Brother."
Dream inclined his head. "Sister."
They regarded one another across the silence of space. Eternity had been vast, immutable, certain. Infinity was vast in another way — less solid, less bound, the sense of a promise forever unfolding.
Her voice, when it came, was a chorus of countless futures spoken at once.
"You dwell in possibility, yet possibility is my breath. Tell me, Dream… how is your dominion not but a reflection of mine?"
Dream's silver gaze did not waver. His cloak coiled like smoke around him, a constellation of shadows and light.
"Your infinity is without shape. Boundless, eternal, unending. But possibility without form is only chaos. I am not your reflection, sister — I am your echo, given voice. You are the endless road; I am the dreams of those who walk it."
Infinity's lips curved faintly. It was not a smile in the mortal sense, but a shift in her infinite self, galaxies trembling as if in laughter.
"Then we are not rivals, but mirrors. Where I stretch without end, you give form to the endless. Where I overwhelm, you make it knowable."
Dream allowed the faintest curve of his mouth.
"And where I falter in limits, you remind me that imagination itself has no ceiling. Perhaps we are not mirrors, but siblings bound closer than most."
Infinity drifted nearer. Not walking, not moving, but unfolding — space itself bending so that she stood at his side. She looked down into his pale eyes, and for once her voice was not overwhelming, but intimate.
"Eternity is the certainty of what is. I am the vastness of what may be. But you, Dream… you are the bridge between us. The whisper that makes infinity bearable."
Dream blinked slowly. For a being who encompassed all endlessness, her words carried a vulnerability he had not expected.
"Then let us be brother and sister truly," he said softly. "Not in name alone, but in bond. You remind me that even shadows have no end."
Her laugh came again, softer, warmer. She extended her hand — not vast, not all-consuming, but sized as his own, for his sake. When Dream's gloved fingers touched hers, a ripple shivered across the cosmos.
Infinity's gaze brightened.
"Then let us promise, brother — when your dominion falters, I will hold you in endlessness. And when my vastness overwhelms, you will give me shape."
Dream inclined his head in solemn acceptance. "So it shall be."
For a time, they stood together, watching the stars blossom. Infinity spoke in visions, each word carrying a thousand possible tomorrows. Dream listened, and in turn shaped her boundless musings into tales, into images, into form.
It was the first true harmony between them — endlessness and imagination, balanced as siblings should be.
When Dream returned to the Dreaming, his cloak was heavier, but not with burden. With meaning. Infinity had called him brother, not as inevitability, but as choice.
And that choice mattered more than all the stars.