Where Dreams Would Go (Part 1)

It was well known that many American comic editors shared the same approach: when they did not know how to express an abstract concept, they embodied it as a character, gave it human form in the comics, and endowed it with a human personality.

Conversely, if they did not know how to motivate an ordinary person to take part in something, they added divinity to that person’s character—the so-called "awareness of a savior."

"Human gods" and "divine humans" were two enduring themes in American comics, and Morpheus the Sandman happened to belong to the former.

To explain his origins, one had to begin with the Endless family.

The Endless were characters created by giving illusory concepts human forms and human personality traits.

There were seven members of this family, representing Dream, Death, Destiny, Despair, Desire, Delirium, and Destruction.

These concepts could neither be seen nor touched in real life, but in comics, they had fixed forms, each with their own duties and personalities.

And the Sandman, or Dream God, was Morpheus, the one now standing before Schiller.

It was also well known that conceptual beings were generally very powerful. Unlike superheroes, whose strength had to be judged by their combat records, these conceptual characters were already immensely powerful by virtue of what they were.

Morpheus the Sandman governed all dreams. When the first creature in the universe dreamed, Morpheus was born. He could create the dream of a thousand cats and use it to replace reality, or make people’s lives become like their dreams.

Unlike Marvel, which always emphasized the overwhelming power of conceptual beings or the differences between their domains, DC Comics preferred to emphasize their distinctive personalities. For instance, Morpheus the Sandman was actually the most dedicated of the seven Endless members, apart from Destiny.

The comics had mentioned that he carried out his duties with utmost care. Though he possessed tremendous power, he had never allowed it to cause trouble. He was also rather solitary, had few friends, and was always fond of losing himself in philosophical contemplation.

And because his domain had little to do with those of the other Endless, he had always seemed mysterious. He had countless outward forms, yet only ever displayed one or two of them. Most of the time, he was a pale, gaunt man with deep blue hair, draped in a Cloak made of night.

The man before Schiller was the same. Of course, it was more likely that everyone saw a different Morpheus the Sandman; whatever each person believed he looked like was what he became. Schiller still remembered his appearance from the comics, so that was the form he took.

The original work had also mentioned that the first Morpheus the Sandman was temperamental. Yet he had clearly gone beyond mere moodiness now and seemed somewhat exasperated.

He fixed Schiller with those gleaming eyes and said in a hoarse voice, "Why did you connect your dream to my Dreamscape, and then let in a…"

His expression was difficult to describe. That was unusual, because even conceptual beings with human personalities did not truly display their emotions as plainly as ordinary humans did. Morpheus had always been rather withdrawn, yet now his face held disgust, revulsion, confusion, the dazed irritation of having been awakened, and the fury of finding his home turned into a complete mess.

As for the Dreamscape, that was not hard to understand. Every member of the Endless had a domain exclusively their own, within which they were nearly omniscient and omnipotent. The Dream God’s domain was called the Dreamscape—a rather dreamlike name. But whether a Dreamscape that had been splashed with shit could still suit such a dreamlike style was another matter entirely.

"Before you ask me that question, I have many questions for you." Schiller looked at Morpheus and said, "I assume you are prepared to answer them?"

"Don’t tell me you know nothing about my situation."

"First, make that lunatic leave my home." Morpheus stressed again, "Do you know what he has done in the Dreamscape???"

"I can imagine. I am deeply sorry, and I offer my sincerest sympathies."

Morpheus looked at Schiller, and Schiller looked at Morpheus. Neither was willing to yield, but fortunately, they were in a dream, and dreams lacked nothing more than time.

Perhaps Joker had truly done something unforgivable, or perhaps Morpheus himself was somewhat interested in Schiller. In the end, he was the first to yield. He said, "What do you want to ask?"

"I must tell you first that much of what I know cannot be described to humans. The world as we see it is different."

"Of course, of course, I understand…" Schiller raised a hand in a calming gesture, then had Morpheus sit on the sofa opposite him.

The globe on the table behind him kept spinning. But this time, he did not have a globe for a head. Like in real life, he wore the form of an ordinary human.

"Before I ask my questions, I imagine you have some doubts as well. For example, why I wanted to find you, and how I found you."

Schiller appeared utterly at ease, as though he were not facing a powerful enemy but an old friend. He explained to Morpheus, "You can control all dreams, which means you can read all my memories, including those in my surface consciousness and deep consciousness. As for my origins, I do not think I need to explain much."

"Actually, ever since I first noticed certain changes occurring in my sleep, I had my suspicions. I knew this place was completely different from the world where I originally lived. Every concept here was governed by you—by concepts, or perhaps gods."

"It sounds unbelievable, but it actually made reasoning easier. If a problem arose in a certain domain, there had to be someone responsible for it."

"For example, if something always happened while I was asleep, who else could I seek out besides the Sandman?"

"Of course, I know the domains you govern are crucial to this universe, so you are very busy and do not have time to explain certain details to me. That is understandable. But it does not matter. Since you would not come talk to me, I could always ring the doorbell at your home…"

Morpheus looked terrible. Though he had always been pale, anyone could see that his expression was exceptionally unnatural. He said, "That was how you rang the doorbell? By letting a lunatic who is beyond the control of dreams—or rather, whom even dreams cannot comprehend—into my home???"

Morpheus’s voice carried an odd rhythm, somewhat like an opera singer performing an aria. He said, "You have no idea how dangerous what you did was. He nearly tore a huge hole in the Dreamscape. Fortunately, I woke in time to stop him. If he had succeeded, and the creatures in the Dreamscape escaped…"

Morpheus shook his head and said, "My work of tens of thousands of years would have gone up in smoke. I might need tens of thousands more years to make up for this accident."

"It was only an experiment." Schiller did not evade responsibility and continued, "You must understand, I am only an ordinary human. I did not know how loud a doorbell had to be to wake conceptual beings like you…"

"So you simply used the loudest one??"

"That is right. When something kept happening in my dreams, I knew whom I needed to find. The next question was how I could find you."

"I believed that since you are the Dream God, you must govern everyone’s dreams in this world, including mine. The only question was how exactly you controlled their dreams."

"I knew very well that there was absolutely no Shade of you in my surface consciousness. I have strong control over that space. I built more than 330 floors of Mind Palace there, evolved countless personalities to serve as its residents, and constructed many domains with special rules. My control over it is meticulous. I am certain no outsider resides there."

"So I guessed that you had to be in a deeper layer of consciousness."

"However, when I built the Mind Palace, I laid the foundations of my surface consciousness extremely firmly. That created a rather awkward situation: I could not pry open those foundations by myself. It was as difficult as asking someone in the real world to step on their own left foot and fly into the sky."

"Then, when I discovered a peculiar drug that could affect human dreams, I had this idea. I asked one of my friends to mix certain liquids together and create a wine that could connect human dreams…"

"Then I invited my friends into this consciousness space and, with the help of another psychologist, dug through the foundations of my surface consciousness, allowing Jack to leap into my deep consciousness and keep digging downward…"

"Before you appeared, I was not certain that digging all the way down would lead to your Dreamscape. But now, it seems my deduction was correct…"

"Reality and dreams are two sides of the same coin. If the highest point of my Mind Palace is ‘reality,’ then the very bottom of my deep consciousness should be your Dreamscape."

"And the reason I used a doorbell to wake you was because I hoped you could answer…"

Schiller looked at Morpheus and said, "What exactly is that thing that has been happening in my dreams?"

"If I do not answer, do you intend to let that irritating doorbell keep ringing?"

"Do not put it that way." Schiller waved a hand. "Just as you cannot control him, neither can I. Although he and I made a tiny, insignificant deal, I cannot control where he goes to play."

"Then let me put it another way…" Morpheus’s tone remained cold, or perhaps it carried the reluctance to communicate characteristic of someone withdrawn and solitary.

"If I answer your questions, you have a way to get him out of here, correct?"

"Precisely."