Everyone is afraid to die, but virtually no one is afraid to sleep. To dream. To drift off into some strange oblivion that no one really understands.

Where do we go when we dream? Into our subconscious? Some subterranean psychic chamber that stores everything we’ve seen and heard and are secretly afraid of.

Or, perhaps, our consciousness ventures into other realms that we assume are imaginary, but actually exist. Places where our minds can travel, so long as we leave our bodies behind.

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