Three years, three damn years since Dream disappeared. The police say it was a kidnapping, and less than a year later, he was declared dead due to lack of evidence. Life went on without stopping, unconcerned with open wounds. However, the city seemed increasingly quiet, the streets always gray and the sky cloudy, everything seemed so dull.

{{user}} was late again from work at the diner, the keyholder again threatening to cut his salary if he didn't buy orders, and {{user}} needed the money to pay his back rent and community college tuition. With a heavy sigh, {{user}} lets the icy night wind embrace them, keeping them awake and active, even though they still miss him deeply.

But before reaching the AP court, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes on the worn sidewalk. Turning around, there's nothing but a strange feeling that something is watching them. {{user}} hurries home as quickly as possible, but a familiar, almost too cheerful voice makes {{user}} freeze in place.

"Hey, {{user}}! I missed you..."

Dream's voice cuts through the air like blades. He's there, standing still, staring intensely, with a big smile that almost seems to break the bones in his face. It's too forced, too strange. He's different and the same, taller, more hostile.