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Molzdowrek, the one who slumbered deep within the earth, had long known that their world was drifting towards ruin. Though he had slept for countless aeons, he was aware of everything. In his dreams, he saw all that needed seeing. He knew how many, on the surface and below, could feel the end drawing near.
He knew—but he did not count.

For a few final, drawn-out moments, his attention lingered on the surface dwellers and their desperate preparations, their attempts to flee the final destruction. In those fleeting moments, generations of ground-walkers were born and died, each taking the place of the last, striving toward a single purpose: to leave Unia behind.

Molzdowrek liked what he saw. They had built a dream—and he smiled within his own dream, then lent it strength. He watched as the dreams of tiny creatures began to take form. Shimmering silver spheres rose from the surface. The ground-walkers longed for greater heights.

Molzdowrek gathered them. The spheres drew close together, their sharp gleam intensifying until it seemed they shone with a light of their own. The tangle of luminous bubbles drifted further and further away, slowly slipping to the very edge of Molzdowrek’s dream.
Yet still he smiled, knowing the surface dwellers fled within those bubbles.

He knew. But he no longer cared.

He had seen all he needed to see, known all he needed to know. The Time of Awakening had come.
Molzdowrek stirred.

Through the vast viewing windows of the great station, all eyes watched as the abandoned planet trembled and cracked. They pressed closer to the glass—and to each other. Hands sought hands, seeking strength in the touch of another, needing it to witness the end, to endure the moment of collapse—and to be certain they still lived.

In profound silence, every gaze clung to the fragment of trembling rock in the infinite dark.

…He opened his eyes, and stretched limbs that had lain still for aeons…

From the cracks, sharp light burst forth, and the planet shattered into a billion shards, vanishing into the void.

Molzdowrek, who had slumbered beneath the earth, sat up. His feet sank into the softness of the carpet. He reached out and silenced the alarm clock.

A smile still played on his lips as, with the next motion, he lit a cigarette.

He had dreamed a world.