The lack of sound bothered him. Zach knew this was a dream - a dream he kept having ever since that failed ritual - but even in dreams there was noise. Wind, animals, traffic, anything. The rustle of grass or the patter of rain. Crickets. Sound meant life and this place felt dead. He couldn’t even hear his own breathing.

The sky was such a bright blue it blinded him. A cloudless sky without birds stretched out over the dusty brown dirt of a construction site.

An empty construction site.

It should feel dangerous. No workers lingered around, and the equipment stood empty and poised over freshly dug dirt. Railroad ties piled up along an edge of a dirt road, and the framework for cement platforms laid across a string of pallets ready to be assembled. The building - or maybe shelter? - only had a few support studs held in place, perhaps waiting for the floor to be poured or for runework spells to be carved.

The start of a train station. Runerails, Zach guessed, though the spellwork hadn’t been started yet. It didn’t feel real. Too bright, too silent, too dead. Almost a painting of something yet to come.

Zach turned away from the construction again. He’d been here often enough to know what he was looking for wasn’t among the silent, dead, abandoned worksite. This dream was confusing and frustrating, but he’d complete the ritual eventually. He would figure out how to make the dream end.

Facing away from the construction was a flatbed pickup truck. There was a nest of blankets on the exposed bed and straps to secure cargo like some sort of barbaric amusement park ride. Clearly intended for something live, which this place was absolutely devoid of. Had someone just put in the minimum effort to make the trip bearable, or were the blankets and straps the only safety this strange place had to offer an injured, ill, or otherwise sedated creature?

And why a truck like this? Zach left transport to other staff members, but even he could see the truck wasn’t intended for this purpose. A last minute change? Lack of resources?

The place was so silent. No one to ask. Nothing to even interact with.

Well, except that.

Enough trips to this dream had revealed an invisible burden. The first time he’d found the - creature? - he’d tripped over the body. It had taken a few more dreams to figure out where it was.

Zach carefully approached the space next to the discarded rail ties and used his hands to feel it. This time he was sure; it was a body. Four limbs, hands, feet, a flat chest indicated male, and no shirt either. Limp, possibly injured or dazed.

Soundless. If not for the heartbeat Zach felt under his fingers, he would think the man dead.

When he searched through his own pockets, Zach’s phone wasn’t there. He wasn’t happy moving a potentially injured person when he couldn’t even see the problem. It was a dream, though, and thoughts manifested into action. Zach lifted the man to his feet and turned to the truck.

And the dream cut short.