The coffee shop looked perfectly ordinary.

  Maggie stood in the doorway, looking around at the muted interior. Small tables scattered throughout. A counter with an old espresso machine. Shelves lined with mismatched mugs. Everything rendered in those same drained, grey-tinged colors that made the Dreamscape feel like a faded photograph.

  "Of all the fantastical places you could take me," she said, "you're bringing me to a normal coffee shop?"

  "Hey." Mark walked past her toward the counter. "Don't say that. They have great coffee. Isn't that amazing enough?"

  "We're in a magical dream world and you're excited about coffee."

  "You say that like it's weird." He gestured at the espresso machine. "Go on. Make yourself something."

  Maggie approached the counter cautiously. The machine looked functional—clean, well-maintained, steam rising gently from its spouts. She pressed a button experimentally.

  A perfect espresso poured into the cup below.

  "Huh." She picked it up, sniffed it. It smelled exactly like coffee should. "Okay, that's actually kind of cool."

  "Told you." Mark was already pouring himself a cup. "Best coffee in the Dreamscape."

  The husky trotted over to a corner and curled up on a worn rug.

  Maggie followed Mark to a table by the window. Outside, the empty street stretched away into fog. A newsstand stood on the corner across from the shop, its display racks still full despite the lack of customers.

  "Hold on." Mark stood back up. "Let me grab something."

  He walked out the door and crossed to the newsstand. Maggie watched as he plucked a newspaper from the rack, glanced at the front page, then headed back inside.

  "What's that?" she asked as he sat down.

  "Today's news." He set the paper on the table. "Someone in the real world leaves their newspaper at that stand every morning. The reflection shows up here. Helps me stay informed about what's happening out there."

  Maggie leaned forward to look at the headline. Something about local politics. A story about traffic construction. Weather forecast.

  "Nothing too exciting today," Mark said, flipping through the pages. "Usually it's just—oh. Wait. This is interesting."

  "Yeah?"

  "Very interesting. Look at this." He turned the paper toward her, pointing at what looked like a regular article.

  Maggie leaned in.

  The text shimmered. Changed. And suddenly she was looking at a video embedded in the newspaper—which shouldn't have been possible—showing a man with distinctive red-brown hair in a long coat.

  He started to sing.

  "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down—"

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Maggie stared at Mark. "You rickrolled me. In a dream. In a newspaper."

  Mark was grinning. "I've been waiting years to do that to someone."

  "I can't believe—" She started laughing despite herself. "I didn't expect to get rickrolled in a dream. How is there even a video in a newspaper? And how do you know about that meme?"

  "Twenty years here, remember? I've seen a lot of things filter through from the real world." He closed the newspaper, still looking pleased with himself. "And as for the video—that's kind of the point I wanted to make, actually."

  "What point?"

  "About what's possible here." Mark took a sip of his coffee. "The Dreamscape isn't just a reflection of physical reality. It's a reflection of human imagination. Stories. Culture. Memes. All of it has weight here. Has substance."

  "So that rickroll..."

  "Exists because enough people know it. Shared it. Made it part of the collective consciousness." He gestured at the newspaper. "I didn't create that just now. It's already here, woven into the fabric of this place. I just knew where to find it."

  Maggie thought about that. About ideas becoming real. About jokes and songs and stories taking on physical form in a world made of dreams.

  "That's..." She struggled for words. "Actually kind of amazing."

  "It can be. It can also be dangerous."

  "How so?"

  Mark nodded at her coffee cup. "Look at your table."

  Maggie glanced down.

  There were pastries on the table now. A croissant. A muffin. A slice of cake she could have sworn hadn't been there a moment ago.

  "I didn't..." She looked back at Mark. "Did you put those there?"

  "Nope. You did."

  "I didn't do anything."

  "You imagined them. Unconsciously, probably. You were drinking coffee and some part of your brain thought 'coffee goes with pastries' and—" he gestured at the table, "—here they are."

  Maggie picked up the croissant. It felt real. Solid. Warm, even. "This is insane."

  "It's the Dreamscape. Thought becomes reality here—if you know how, or if your subconscious is doing it without your permission." He leaned back in his chair. "Which is why you need to be careful. Because if you can imagine food into existence, you can also imagine other things. Worse things."

  "Wait." Maggie set the croissant down. "Do we even need to eat here?"

  "Need to? No. Bodies in the Dreamscape don't really require sustenance." Mark picked up the muffin and took a bite. "But you can if you want. Best of both worlds, really. You can eat as much as you like and you won't gain weight, get sick, nothing. All the pleasure, none of the consequences."

  "That sounds too good to be true."

  "Welcome to the dream world." He gestured at the pastries. "Go ahead. Try it."

  Maggie picked up the croissant again and bit into it. It tasted exactly like a croissant should—buttery, flaky, perfect.

  "Okay," she admitted. "That's actually amazing."

  "Told you. But—" Mark's expression turned serious again, "—don't get too comfortable with it. Creating food is harmless. But the same mechanism that made these pastries could create other things."

  "Like what?"

  "Like the creatures that were chasing you in your dreams. Those faceless figures? They came from your fear. Your anxiety. If you'd been here in the actual Dreamscape when you imagined them, they'd be real. Actually dangerous."

  Maggie set the croissant down. "So I could accidentally create a monster just by thinking about one?"

  "If you're not careful, yeah. It takes focus to create something intentionally. But strong emotions, vivid fears—those can manifest whether you want them to or not." He took another sip of coffee. "That's why most strays don't last long. They panic, imagine terrible things, and those things become real."

  "But I've been fine so far."

  "Because you don't know enough yet. The less you know about dangerous things, the less likely you are to accidentally manifest them." He paused. "If you knew detailed stories about certain entities, monsters, horrors—you could accidentally summon something from them just by thinking about it too hard."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "So ignorance is actually helpful here."

  "In this case? Absolutely. But it won't last. The longer you're here, the more you'll see and learn. And the more you'll need to actively control your thoughts instead of relying on not knowing things."

  "But you've been here twenty years."

  "I learned to control it. Took a while, but I got there." He gestured at the husky in the corner, the eagle on the beam. "Those two? I imagined them. Created them intentionally to help me navigate this place."

  Maggie looked at the dog. It yawned, tongue curling, then settled its head back on its paws.

  "You made them?" she asked.

  "From scratch. Well—from imagination, technically." Mark's expression softened slightly. "They're extensions of me, in a way. Which is why I can communicate with them so easily. They're not really separate beings. More like parts of myself that I externalized."

  "That's..." Maggie thought about it. "Actually really lonely."

  Mark blinked. "What?"

  "You've been here for twenty years and your only companions are pieces of yourself." She said it gently. "That sounds lonely."

  He didn't answer right away. Just looked at his coffee cup, swirling the contents slightly.

  "It's not so bad," he said finally. "I help dreamwalkers. Guide strays. It gives me purpose."

  "Still lonely."

  "Maybe." He shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. "But it's better than the alternative."

  They sat in silence for a moment. Maggie sipped her coffee—which was, admittedly, excellent—and tried not to think about what twenty years of isolation would do to a person.

  Movement outside caught her eye.

  She turned to look through the window.

  "Are those..." She stood up, pressing closer to the glass. "Are those dolphins?"

  Mark glanced out. "Yep."

  "Flying dolphins."

  "Yep."

  There were maybe six of them, swimming through the air like it was water. Their bodies curved and twisted in graceful arcs, completely unbothered by the lack of ocean around them. They moved in formation, heading down the street in the direction Maggie and Mark had come from.

  "How?" Maggie breathed.

  "Mammals have an easier time entering the Dreamscape. Something about their brain structure—I'm not entirely sure of the science. But they slip in and out pretty naturally when they sleep." He stood up beside her. "Dolphins, whales, sometimes big cats or bears. They wander through, explore, then wake up and leave."

  "That's incredible."

  "It's—oh no."

  "What?"

  One of the dolphins had broken away from the group. It was swimming—flying—directly toward the coffee shop window, picking up speed as it approached.

  "Ugh." Mark's face twisted with annoyance. "Not him again."

  "Him?" Maggie tensed. "Is he dangerous?"

  "The problem is he's somehow even more annoying than I am."

  "I seriously doubt that's possible."

  "You'll see."

  The dolphin reached the window. Instead of stopping, it phased straight through the glass like it wasn't there—which maybe it wasn't, in the same way most things here weren't quite real.

  It swam a circle around the interior of the coffee shop, chattering excitedly, then came to a stop in the air in front of Mark and Maggie.

  "MARK!" The dolphin's voice was high-pitched and incredibly enthusiastic. "Mark! Is that you? It's been forever! Well, not forever, like three days, but still, that's basically forever in dolphin time, you know what I mean?"

  Maggie's tension eased slightly. He didn't seem dangerous. Just... very energetic.

  "Unfortunately," Mark muttered under his breath.

  "And who's THIS?" The dolphin spun in the air to face Maggie, clicking happily. "A new friend? Mark, you made a new friend! I'm so proud of you! You're usually so grumpy and antisocial, but look at you now! Socializing! Growing as a person! This is amazing!"

  "I'm Maggie," she said, a smile creeping onto her face despite herself. "Nice to meet you."

  "Nice to meet YOU, Maggie! I'm—well, Mark usually calls me 'that annoying dolphin,' but you can call me whatever you want! I'm very flexible about names! Dolphins don't really do names the same way you guys do, it's more of a signature whistle thing, you know? But I've been trying out different names to see what fits! What do you think of 'Steve'? Too ordinary? Maybe something cooler like—"

  And then the dolphin started to shift.

  Maggie jerked back in her chair. "What the—"

  The dolphin's form rippled like water, stretching and reforming. In the space of a breath, where a dolphin had been floating, there was now a man standing on the floor.

  A very muscular, very blonde man with an absurdly pompadour hairstyle and sunglasses perched on top of his head. He struck a pose, flexing.

  "Ta-da!" He grinned, showing impossibly white teeth. "Better, right? I just wanna feel included, you know? Hard to sit at a table when you're a dolphin."

  He immediately pulled out a chair and sat down, grabbing the slice of cake from Maggie's side of the table without asking.

  "You can—" Maggie stared. "You can just transform? Into a person?"

  "Sure can!" He took a huge bite of cake, somehow talking around it. "I mean, we're in a dream world, right? Anything's possible if you believe hard enough!"

  Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please don't encourage him."

  "I didn't know that was possible," Maggie said, still staring.

  "Most things are possible here," Mark said tiredly. "Doesn't mean they should be done."

  "Aw, come on, Marky! Don't be like that!" The dolphin-turned-man reached across the table and grabbed the muffin too. "You're just jealous because I pull off the transformation better than you ever could!"

  "I have never once tried to turn into a dolphin."

  "Your loss! It's great! You get to swim through the air, do flips, the whole thing!" He gestured wildly with the muffin, sending crumbs flying. "Plus, the echolocation is fantastic for finding stuff!"

  Maggie watched this exchange with growing amusement. Mark looked like he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment.

  "You need a name," she said to the dolphin-man.

  "Oh! You wanna give me one? That's so sweet!" He leaned forward eagerly. "What were you thinking?"

  "Johnny." She gestured at his pompadour. "You look like a Johnny."

  "Johnny!" He tried it out, standing up and striking another pose. "Yeah! I like it! Johnny the Dolphin! No, wait—Dolphin Johnny! Or just Johnny! Yeah, that's cool, that's smooth!" He sat back down. "Thanks, Maggie! You're way nicer than Mark!"

  "The bar is very low," Mark said flatly.

  "See? He admits it!"

  Maggie found herself laughing. She couldn't help it. Johnny was ridiculous and over-the-top and exactly as annoying as Mark had promised—but there was something endearing about his enthusiasm.

  "So!" Johnny finished the cake and immediately reached for the croissant. "What have you seen so far, Maggie? Mark's been showing you around? Taken you to all the cool places?"

  "Well..." Maggie glanced at Mark. "He brought me here. To a coffee shop."

  "A coffee shop." Johnny stared at Mark. "A coffee shop. Maggie, there are literal castles in this place. Flying islands. Entire cities made of crystal. And he brought you to a coffee shop."

  "The coffee's really good," Maggie offered.

  "Okay, that's it. I'm taking you somewhere amazing. Right now. Come on!" Johnny stood up, grabbing Maggie's hand. "You're gonna love this, there's this place with—"

  "No." Mark's voice cut through Johnny's enthusiasm. "She's not going anywhere until she learns to control her thoughts."

  "Control her thoughts? What, you think she's gonna accidentally imagine a monster or something?"

  "Yes. Exactly that."

  Johnny paused. "Oh. Yeah, okay, that's fair. That happens a lot with new people." He sat back down. "Alright, alright. I'll wait. But after she learns, I'm definitely taking her to the Sky Gardens. They're incredible."

  "Wait." Maggie looked between them. "How do you even do that? The transformation, I mean. You're a dolphin. How do you know how to talk? How to become human? How does any of this work?"

  Johnny shrugged. "Instinct? I dunno. I just kinda... do it."

  "That's not helpful," Maggie said.

  "He's not wrong, though." Mark leaned back. "When Johnny first showed up here, all he could do was fly. Just a normal dolphin swimming through the air. Then I tried teaching him to communicate, just to see if it was possible. And it worked. Too well."

  "Hey!"

  "Now he won't stop talking." Mark continued as if Johnny hadn't interrupted. "As for the transformation and everything else—my best guess is that animal instincts are more in tune with the Dreamscape than human logic. Humans overthink things. Animals just... exist. Feel. React. So they adapt faster."

  "Huh." Maggie thought about that. It made a strange kind of sense. "So Johnny's better at this than humans would be because he doesn't question it?"

  "Exactly."

  "I'm very talented," Johnny said proudly.

  "You're very lucky your brain is too simple to get in your own way," Mark corrected.

  "Same thing!"

  Maggie shook her head, smiling. "Okay, Johnny. I promise—once I figure out how not to accidentally create nightmares, we'll go see your Sky Gardens."

  "Yes! I'm holding you to that!" Johnny leaned forward, grinning. "Everyone deserves second chances, you know? Fresh starts! New opportunities! That's what the Dreamscape is all about!"

  Something cold touched Maggie's spine. Second chances. The phrase hit wrong. Made her chest tighten.

  She could think about why. Push into that feeling. Figure out what it meant.

  Or she could not.

  "So these Sky Gardens," she said quickly. "Floating islands, right? What else is there?"

  Mark's eyes flicked to her for a brief moment. Then away.

  "Oh! Crystal cities too!" Johnny transformed back into a dolphin in a shimmer of motion, swimming a happy loop through the air. "This is gonna be great! We're gonna be best friends! Way better friends than grumpy Mark over here!"

  "Please leave," Mark said.

  "Leaving! But I'll be back! See you soon, Maggie! Bye, Mark! Love you too!" And with that, Johnny phased back through the window and rejoined his pod of dolphins in the sky, chattering excitedly at them.

  Silence settled over the coffee shop.

  Maggie looked at Mark.

  Mark looked back.

  "I genuinely hope there is no next time," Mark said quietly.

  "He's not that bad."

  "You just met him. Give it time." But there was something in Mark's expression that wasn't quite annoyance. Something softer. "Though I'll admit, he's useful for certain things. Covers a lot of ground exploring. Sometimes he finds new arrivals before I do—other strays, dreamwalkers. His echolocation picks up things I'd miss."

  "So he's annoying but helpful."

  "Unfortunately, yes." Mark almost smiled. "Don't tell him I said that."

  "'Johnny,'" Mark said after a moment, his tone dry. "Really? So original."

  "I know, right?" Maggie grinned. "But seriously—why does he look so much like that guy? The hair, the muscles, all of it."

  "We ran into him once." Mark shook his head. "Just as annoying."

  "At least the dolphin version doesn't hit on girls."

  "Maybe not human ones."

  Maggie snorted, nearly spilling her coffee.

  She picked up her coffee again, watching through the window as the pod of dolphins disappeared into the grey sky.

  "So," she said. "Sky Gardens, huh?"

  "Don't even think about it."

  "I'm just saying, they sound cool."

  "We're staying here until you can prove you won't accidentally summon something worse than those faceless figures."

  "That was in a dream, though. My personal dream."

  "Doesn't matter. Same mechanism. And next time it could happen here."

  Despite everything, Maggie found herself smiling. The Dreamscape was strange and unsettling and more than a little dangerous. But sitting here with Mark, drinking impossible coffee and being harassed by an enthusiastic dolphin-turned-bodybuilder?

  It felt almost normal.

  Mark finished his coffee and stood up.

  "Come on," he said. "If you're going to survive here, we should probably start before you get comfortable."