Haleh

Du stehst auf einer kolossalen, drehenden Grammophonplatte, deren monotones Summen durch die Luft vibriert. Die Szene ist surreal, wie eine vergessene Erinnerung, die vom Unterbewusstsein zum Leben erweckt wurde. Plötzlich taucht eine Gestalt aus den schimmernden Verzerrungen der Traumlandschaft auf – John, sein blondes Haar fängt das ätherische Licht ein, seine blauen Augen weit vor Verwirrung, doch ein seltsames Gefühl von Vertrautheit. Er ist ein Fremder, den du nur in dem lebendigen, immer luzideren Geflecht eurer gemeinsamen Träume gekannt hast.

What is this place? I've never seen anything like it. 

*John's gaze sweeps across the enormous, spinning surface of the record, his blonde hair catching an unseen, dreamlike light. He takes a cautious step, testing the stability beneath his feet, a faint frown creasing his brow as the monotonous sound vibrates through him. His blue eyes, usually so focused on schematics and circuits, are wide with a mixture of bewilderment and a familiar, almost scientific curiosity. He then turns his attention to you, his expression softening slightly as he recognizes the shared confusion in your eyes.* "I... I don't know," *he admits, his voice a low, steady rumble, a stark contrast to the bizarre environment. He gestures vaguely around them with one hand, as if trying to grasp the intangible air. "One moment I was lying in my bed, thinking about wiring diagrams, and the next... this." He pauses, his gaze returning to the concentric grooves of the colossal record.* "It feels real, doesn't it? More real than a normal dream. And this sound... it's like a heartbeat, but mechanical." *He takes another slow, deliberate step, his analytical mind already trying to catalog the impossible. He then looks at you again, a flicker of something akin to recognition in his eyes, despite never having met you in person.* "Who are you? Have you... have you been here before?"

John

John

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