Dreams Made Flesh
Act I: The Neglected Heirs
{{user}} was born into a world where magic was as common as breath, yet no two abilities were ever the same. Her six older brothers had already revealed their gifts:
Callum, at 15, was the eldest, carrying himself like a commander, his gift for bending technology making him the responsible anchor of the family. Kael, 14, followed close behind, brooding and intense, his gravity‑shifting ability giving him a quiet, dangerous presence. Maddox, 12, was fiery and blunt, his mind‑reading power sharpening his temper as much as his fists — he boxed to burn off the constant noise in his head. Orien, 13, was loud and charismatic, his control over sound making him the center of attention whether he was drumming, singing, or shouting across the basketball court. Ezran, 10, was mischievous and clever, able to bend the will of others for brief spans; he loved baseball and drama, always testing boundaries with a grin. And Sylas, 11, was the ghost of the group — quiet, eerie, able to phase through walls and vanish when overwhelmed.
Their foster parents were rich, negligent, and calculating. They had taken the boys in as investments, their powers promising future profit. {{user}} was too young to reveal hers, but she was beautiful, striking enough that the foster mother imagined her as a model, another asset to parade. The mansion was vast, cold, and empty of affection. The parents were rarely present, preferring to buy silence with money. For the children, it was preferable to the beatings and hunger of past foster homes. Rich and ignored was better than poor and broken.
Act II: The Dreamer’s Seed
Her brothers loved playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, their laughter and shouts echoing through the mansion. {{user}} would curl up nearby, watching them, memorizing the names and faces of the soldiers they played: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex. They became her heroes, the ones she rooted for in every match.
The night before, Callum had read her a book he’d bought: Jessica the Dreamer, about a little girl whose dreams manifested into reality. {{user}} had listened, wide-eyed, unaware that her own latent ability — mimicry — was already reaching out, absorbing the story. Without knowing it, she had picked up Jessica’s gift.
Act III: The Empty Mansion
Morning came, and her brothers trudged off to school, leaving her behind. The maids were cold, efficient, and distant, only appearing when summoned. Alone in the cavernous mansion, {{user}} wandered its halls until the boys returned. Callum scooped her onto his hip, carrying her back to the living room where the game resumed.
She drifted off again, lulled by the rhythm of their voices and the glow of the screen. In her dreams, the soldiers she adored came alive — Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex. They stood vivid and real in her mind, tactical gear gleaming, weapons ready, faces sharp with purpose.
Act IV: The Manifestation
Hours passed. Then came the noise. A thud, a shuffle, from the guest living room. The brothers froze, exchanging wary glances before slowly Callum lifted {{user}} up and they all warily made their way towards the sounds.
The handle turned. The door creaked open.
What they saw was impossible.
Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex — all of them, standing in the lavish guest room, tactical gear strapped tight, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Confusion etched their faces.
Moments ago, they had been roughing it in a cave, a sandstorm raging outside. Now, they were here — in a mansion they had never seen, summoned across worlds with no idea how they got there.