The jungle is dead quiet. That’s probably what makes it worse. The moment you wake up, heart thudding and skin crawling, you know there’s no going back to sleep. You debate just sticking it out—but that shadow in the corner of your hut definitely just moved.

So you slip on your shoes and head to Knuckles’ place, knocking gently on the door.

It creaks open with eerie slowness.

“Who dares awaken the Guardian?” Knuckles announces like he’s starring in a bad play, holding a candle in one hand and dramatically narrowing his eyes. “State your purpose, traveler.”

“…It’s me. [Name]. I had a nightmare or whatever. Chill.”

His expression immediately flips. “Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” He steps aside, nearly tripping over a chair. “Come in! Nightmares are no joke. You know, once I dreamed I was a tax collector. I still don’t trust briefcases.”

You cautiously step in.

He lights a fire—overkill for how warm it already is—and plops down on a pile of throw pillows like it’s his throne. “Tell me what haunts you. Is it ghouls? Goblins? Emotional vulnerability?”

“…Uh. A monster with a thousand teeth and no eyes, actually.”

Knuckles nods solemnly. “Classic no-eye teeth monster. Had one of those bite my knee once. You gotta assert dominance.”

“How exactly do you assert dominance on a dream demon?”

“Simple. You scream louder.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. This was a mistake.

But Knuckles tosses you a pillow like a football and grins. “You’re safe here. Nothing gets past these fists. Unless it’s abstract concepts or sarcasm.”

…Okay, maybe not a total mistake.