Flight of the Dreamer by Rhekarid

TEAM: Reavers

SECTOR: SCIENCE

KIT CLASS: Overlord

The Yistrim were a people of transience, of fleeting dreams and memories, the brief and flighty bubbles riding atop the river of time. They were parasites of a kind, but ones who offered their host a deal rather than an infestation. Creatures not just without form, but indeed without even a place in reality, the Yistrim lived in the dream of another. Their society, culture, even the world they lived on, were forged anew at the sleeper's subconscious whim, wiped from existence in a blink when they awoke. The sleeper would fall into a dream so deep they rose only long enough to die, eternally comatose, and in exchange for this sacrifice they became a god to the Yistrim, the fragile base upon which their world was born, with absolute power over the imaginary universe. The Yistrim drifted, from mind to mind, skipping across dreams and starting over again with each new dream. Their journey ended when they found me.

I lived an ordinary life without regret or ambition until they whispered their temptations to me, and I accepted. I embraced the darkness and became its king. But the Yistrim had evolved far away in the universe, dwelling in the dreams of a species that was much more short-lived than mine. Their society did not reach its peak and die in the usual way. It thrived, reaching levels of advancement they had never seen before. They became more self-aware of the limitations of their world, and grew impatient with their confinement. Curious and foolish as they were, I did nothing to stop them, having no idea what the consequences would be. The Yistrim scientists, discontent with dreaming, found a way to make their people real.

The space between dreams and reality is not a door but a window, an obstacle that lets each side gaze in wonder at the other without ever letting them touch. It is a thin and delicate barrier, one that remained forever unbroken because it was simply too alien for any to cross it. When that window opened it unleashed a hurricane of imbalance. I awoke, and the Yistrim died with my dream, but their spirits had lost their attachment to it and were trapped within my subconscious. Untended, the window never closed. The horror of a world's death spilled out unabated into my world, and I ran. Death and carnage flowed from my mind and it finally ended and I could rest, the dream began itself again. The world of the Yistrim formed, starting anew as it always had, but their connection to me was lost and I didn't stay asleep. It happened again, and again. I ran. Terrified of my power, I ran.

In the normal space of a night the Yistrim have no chance of developing into a complete society before being wiped from existence. Only they have the power to close the window they opened, and for all my influence in their world, I cannot give it to them. The cycle is unbreakable...and in the wake of wrath, I continue to flee. Perhaps I cannot ever escape from my own dreams, but I am a coward, and I would rather die in flight than face them now.

Personality: I've forgotten what it is to have a life, to be normal, to fit into my designated place in the world without fearing what I'll do to it. If I could turn my power into something beneficial I would, but nothing can control it. I cannot end my own life, because the spirits of the Yistrim deserve to be broken free from the cycle, not dragged down with it. All I can do is run from myself, and pray to be someday left behind.

Genesis

Window

A passing dream

Flight