I open my eyes to find an ocean of blood entombing my body. Abstractly, I understand the bathwater’s still warm. In Earth time, outside of my dream, only minutes have passed since I split my skin with the scalpel—yet my flesh is ice. I’m so cold.
soBut I have a mission, and I will not fail.
This is the most important battle I’ll ever fight. The moment where the fate of the world is decided.
I raise my left arm. It’s leaden, numb. The laceration throbs. As blood-water sluices from my flesh, I see darker, thicker rivers of crimson forking from the cut I inflicted upon myself.
My stomach roils, rejecting the sight. The tequila from earlier sloshes unpleasantly. Muscles tense as I heave, but nothing comes up.
Reality moves around me, making it impossible to focus. The room spins as if I’v
