It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jin didn't realize he was dreaming. Not at first.
He floated—not through space, but through nothing. No ground beneath his feet. No sky above. Just an endless horizon of dull gray light, like fog layered on more fog. The air had no weight, no scent, no temperature. It simply was.
He didn't move. Not because he couldn't—but because there was nowhere to move to.
And then, sound.
Voices.
They didn't echo. There was no space to carry the sound. But Jin heard them. Sharp. Clear. Like someone had dropped them directly into his thoughts.
"Did you make contact?"
The voice was male. Not deep, but heavy. Measured. Like every syllable carried a verdict. Jin couldn't see him. Couldn't see anything at all—until the world shifted.
