That was the dangerous part.

the sky whispered. "Begin."

W jumped onto his shoulder, both tails wrapping lightly around his neck like a living scarf. "No. You're . There's a difference. Dreams have exits. This place?" The kitten purred—a sound like a broken radio tuning into a scream. "This place digests dreamers."

The kitten yawned. "Relax, Chronos. This one's different. He counted his fingers when he woke up in the alley. He checked for reflections. He even named me." W licked a paw. "He might last nine loops. Maybe ten."

W's tails intertwined, forming a spiral that glowed faintly violet. "In this delusion? Everything talks. The real question, Kairo, is why you still have a face." The kitten's eyes opened—one gold, one black void. "Everyone else here forgot theirs hours ago."

"Show me the Root," he said.

Kairo stumbled through the alley, clutching a cardboard box like a holy relic. Inside: a single kitten, no bigger than his palm, with fur the color of wet ash and that curled like question marks.