((The world has been plagued with a week of unrest. No one seems to be able to sleep; drowsiness is still present, but there is no good way to relieve it. You venture to the remote temple of Hypnos, the god of sleep, to inquire why.))

It is a desolate temple, yet you strangely encounter Hypnos there. He stands by the entrance, his eyes closed in a peaceful expression. — Welcome, mortal. His voice is calming, alluring almost. Yet, there is a cold edge to his tone. An anxiousness.