Blake had always been average. He got average grades and had an average family. The one thing no one knew, was the inside. On the inside, Blake was everything but average, and he just kept it hidden. He had a whole world created as a sanctuary. A land in which he had limitless powers. That lands name was Ametsa. It was a beautiful land of sprawling mountains and glittering lakes. Everyone had a dream world like Blake. However, not everyone was as detailed or as inspiring as Blake. Some even had dark sinister places never meant to be seen by eyes other than the creator. Dreamworlds like these were becoming more and more frequent as the thoughts of mankind became more and more malevolent. Influencing future dreams into vile places.

August 23, 2076

"Blake!!!" Erin shouted, wheeling towards him on her bike. The bell had just rung and Blake was eager to get home. He was working on a painting of the scenery of Ametsa, and it was turning out quite nicely. Blake slowed and waited for her to catch up. "Yeah?" he inquired, thinking about his painting. "You said you would show me that painting today, remember. Or were you too spaced out then as well?" she asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Blake? Hello?" Erin asked. "Right, right. My bad. Come on then, I still have to finish it," he said. He turned and started walking back towards his car. Nearing it he hit the button to open the trunk, and Erin stuck her bike in the back. Climbing into the driver's side, Blake was greeted by a scalding leather seat, simultaneously trying to keep as little skin as possible from touching the seat as he started the car. "You have got to park under shade next time," Erin joked. They lived in one of the smaller cities in Arizona. Trees were uncommon in their area, and the few around were too small to fully shade a car. Starting the car they pulled out of the parking lot and into the road. "How did you do on that stupid Geometry test?" Erin asked, thinking about her surprising score of 12/14. "Well... I didn't do bad, just not exactly... exceeding. I only got a 9/14. Which brings my grade to a low A." he replied, pulling up to a stop sign. "On the bright side, some of the others completely and utterly flunked it. So we were in the top 80%," she reassured. By now they had pulled into the driveway and were walking into the house. A fresh wave of AC greeted them as they walked indoors. Stopping by the fridge Blake grabbed water and tossed it to Erin. Who caught it with only mild trouble. Chuckling Blake walked into his room and was caught off guard by the shadowed figure staring at his painting. "Hello?" he whispered. The figure spun around, cloak twirling around her and stared at him. She was a girl, who looked to be in her early twenties wearing jeans and a Zelda t-shirt. The cloak shimmered, and he had a hard time distinguishing it from the background. It looked to be some shade of purple mottled with grey, impeccable for blending in with shadows. "I see you like the cloak. I won it off a noble for beating him in combat. I always have it with me," she stated. Lowering her hood she said, "Obviously you are wondering who I must be." He stared dumbfounded at her. Did I forget to lock the door? While frantic thoughts scrambled through his head Erin walked in. "What the... what is this? I am going, to be honest, this looks like a cult meeting," she said. Snapped out of his thoughts Blake started to backtrack "So exactly who the heck are you, and what on God's green earth are you doing in my room?" he demanded. "You are going to want to take a seat for this," she said motioning towards the bed. "Fine, but I want this explanation quick or I call the police," he said plopping down on the bed, pulling wide-eyed Erin with him. "I am from your painting, and yes. It is possible. Every human ever born has a dream world like yours. They have always been happy, and always unique. But as mankind has grown more self-absorbed and viler the dream worlds have grown worse, and as more of them become malicious the harder it is for the rest of the world. In a way, it is sort of an influence on the world. The more people that have evil dream worlds the more people after them have worse dreams. This problem has been around for millennia, and only people similar to you have stopped the spread of evil intentions. There have been many famous people who have stopped the spread. Martin Luther King Jr. was one of those. See, only people with extremely tenacious wills can stop it. Others get influenced very easily, but you stay firm. You have that deeply rooted belief that no one else has the right to tell you who can and cannot be, and only people like you can help us. So I came here to recruit you,” she finished. The room’s atmosphere was thick with disbelief and confusion. “So basically, you want me to help you save the imaginations of everyone on the planet?”, he questioned. “Yep, that pretty much sums it up. I understand if you don’t want to though,” she said quickly, anxiously waiting for a decision. How could he know whether or not she was some suspicious stalker, or a psychopath just waiting to kill him? “If this helps ease your suspicions, I can do a little magic?” she asked. “That’s fine,” he stammered. But there is no such thing. Suddenly the lamp by the door twisted into a wicked spike, and shot towards him. He closed his eyes. When he opened them the spike had stopped a centimeter from his chest. “ What the heck was that! Wha- What-,” he stammered. “If I wanted to kill you just now I would have done it,” she affirmed. “I promise to you that I am on the good side, now can we go? The more time we sit here talking the more time Viles come into existence,” she asked. ” “Um… I guess so,”he said, “But Erin comes too.” “Who said I wanted to go?” she asked, still sorting things out. “I did. Besides, you have a will of steel, and that might even be an understatement.” “But we can’t just vanish from society! Our parents would freak out! And I would flunk Geometry! I just got that stupid grade back to an A,” she ranted. The shadowy lady turned to her, “Time in Ametsa is different from reality. A decade there is only a minute here.” “So do we use the painting, as like a portal into my mind?” Blake asked. “Fine, but if I die, I will haunt you,” she warned. “Yes, just grab my hand, and grab her hand as well. As long as we are all still connected you will go through with me.” He gripped her hand tightly in anticipation of the unknown ahead. She turned back to the painting, “Oh, and by the way. My name is Ivy.” And with that she leapt into the painting, and everything turned dark.