Dreamtique
Here Be Dragons
Sirius woke up in a cold sweat, his breath hitching as he abruptly looked up at the fragment of heaven above him through the partially opened hemispherical dome. Sunlight poured in, forcing him to squint and turn away from the piercing rays that stung his eyes. Sirius groaned, his body aching from a mix of sleep inertia and the stiffness of an awkward sleeping position. This time, he had fallen asleep leaning against the bookshelf, the cold, creaky wooden floor pressing against his back and limbs.
He held his breath, glancing around cautiously. Everything remained familiar. The dusty dark oak bookshelves curved along the circular walls, their surfaces worn by time. Brass metallic frames arched overhead, supporting the domed ceiling. And in the center of the confined, dimly lit space stood the telescope, an unmoving relic peeking out from the dome-shaped roof, its structure frozen in time, slowly rusting under the elements like the branches of a dying metallic tree.
Accompanying him was the familiar dead silence and specks of dust that quietly blinked in and out of his vision as they caught the sunlight pouring in from the dome above him while he moved around and stirred the air.
The sensation of starvation took over as the grogginess faded.
“Ugh. Is the Sun already setting?” The body aches began to kick in full swing as soon as he stepped out of the observatory into the sun. Sirius curled in on himself instinctively in response to the rollercoaster of unpleasantness. Each time sleep deprivation caught up with him, it never grew any more bearable.
The ever-present roar of the ocean whispered in the distance. He made his way down the grassy path leading to the cliff’s edge, his footsteps crunching against the tall blades. The crisp, salty air faded into stillness as he reached the entrance of a minute-long forest path. For a brief moment, nothing stirred, until the distant screech of insects slowly filled the air again as he approached Finnero, now a ghost town that was just starting to be reclaimed by the surrounding plant life.
The ghost town before him still looked familiar, yet Sirius took a long moment to look around in a sudden moment of paranoia. Buildings stood in defiant silence. Moss clung to cracked walls, unkempt weeds burst through stone, and nameless sprouts pushed through fractured pavement. Vines draped across surfaces like inked veins, merging with the enigmatic vandalism scrawled upon forgotten structures.
Sirius' spine straightened as his gaze settled on a familiar sight—the weathered wooden sign of the Fireplace, an old restaurant standing amid the slow decay in the shape of a wooden cabin. He quickened his pace, his steps faltering.
Running a paw over his face, he tried to shake off the haze, his fingers brushing against the unkempt strands of dark fur spilling from the loosely buttoned front of his milky-white suit. He tugged at the waistband of his long black pants, securing them before pushing open the restaurant’s door.
The interior was bathed in warm, natural light filtering through the open entrance. Signs of life lingered within the well-kept cabin—a clean countertop, an unlit yet intact fireplace, even a decorative snow globe perched on a shelf.
Sirius moved toward a seat near the counter and sank into it, exhaling as he finally found a bit of relief from the bodily pain that was irking him.
“Castle……”
Sirius called out, the echo reverberating in the empty restaurant, no signs of anyone yet. Sirius froze as a suspicion crept up on him.
“Castle?”
He called out again, weaker this time, staring at the floor as his heartbeat pounded louder in his ears with every unanswered call. His paws curled around himself, claws digging into his own arms as a numbing sensation ebbed beneath his chest. He stared into the quiet wooden cabin, fighting the bitter feeling stirring within him.
“Sirius?”
A familiar, deep, warm voice pulled him back.
“Something bad happened? Lone wolf?” A tall, broad-shouldered grizzly bear entered the room, a basket slung over his back. He wore his usual red apron, brushing past Sirius with casual ease.
“Oh, no…” Sirius hesitated. “It’s just that I thought you had…”
“Disappeared?” Castle’s tiny ears perked. “Sorry, I got a little carried away with foraging. Winter is coming, so I want to make sure I’m well prepared.” Castle chuckled. “I wish you could have seen your face back then… I didn’t know you’d be this distraught if I were gone. You sure like me a lot, huh?”
“You know I don’t find this funny, right?” Sirius retorted.
“You never bought any of my bullshit, that’s why I like you.” Castle gave Sirius a toothy grin. “Yeah… sorry, I was just trying to tease you, get you into a new headspace.”
“It’s alright. I know you mean well, old guy, you always do. And, of course, I’d be sad. You’re the only one crazy enough to be this… normal when everything else is falling apart. Your place is a sanctuary.”
“I’m just lucky enough to not have enough reasons to freak out. And enough time to think about this sort of thing.” Castle’s voice drifted from the kitchen, the sound of water running and vegetables being chopped filling the space. “I’m also not trapped in a personal hell like you are.” With a practiced motion, Castle placed an oak-wood bowl of freshly prepared salad in front of Sirius. “I would have fallen apart completely if I were in your place. You have such tenacity that I can’t help but want to root for you. I try my best to preserve this little bit of ‘normal’ for you. You are my only customer, after all.”
“Well, I’m hardly a customer, I don’t even pay you…” Sirius muttered before wolfing down his meal in a few messy bites.
Castle laughed coldly. “Well, you help me play this crazy game of being normal too. Can’t imagine doing a one-man show. So, it’s a forever win-win between us.” Castle leaned towards Sirius playfully. “Fist bump?”
Sirius shook his head gently.
“Hugs?”
Sirius leaned forward, wrapping Castle in a tight squeeze around his thick mane from across the counter.
“Woah… that was unexpected.” “You feeling better now?”
“Much. Thanks for everything, Castle.”
“…Before you go wolf, coffee.”
Sirius gulped it down like water.
“You gulp it down like it’s nothing.”
“And I don’t even like coffee.”
Castle frowned, rubbing his forehead. “I worry if you keep this up, you’ll end up dead before the world ends on you. It can’t be healthy, running on this little sleep.” He paused and observed Sirius, growing uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “…You’re going to be okay, right, Sirius? You know, you can stay here longer for an extra meal if you want to, I got plenty of food in stock here.”
“It’s fine, no ‘normal’ customer would stay in a restaurant.” Sirius murmured.
Castle shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to commit to the normal ‘roleplay’ that hard, you know? The point has always been to keep everyone feeling better—well, ‘everyone’ being me and you, of course. There’s nothing sacred about the ‘normal’ beyond that, we make the rules and we get to break them.”
“It’s fine… I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.” Sirius let the warmth of their exchange settle inside him, but he suppressed it, pushing himself upright. His voice wavered slightly.
“Ah. See you tomorrow, hopefully.” Castle waved.
Sirius turned quickly, avoiding Castle’s gaze as he left. The heavy feeling lingered as he walked away, his eyes fixed on the empty space ahead as he autopiloted back to the abandoned observatory.
The familiar, stagnant air of the observatory’s main hall filled Sirius’s lungs once more. The tiny, enclosed space was in shambles, yet unchanged. He stood motionless, staring into the emptiness before him, before slowly making his way to a familiar corner of the abandoned building. With his back against the wall, he slid down and sat in silence.
The ebbing headache clawed at his skull again, the weight of sleep debt returning to torment him. But he was used to the cycle. He didn’t groan, didn’t wince—just curled up in the corner like an infant, staying perfectly still, waiting for it to pass.
His eyes wandered over the mess around him: layers of sand and dust, dried twigs, crumpled star maps, books scattered from their wooden shelves, trying to find a focal point for his eyes. He tried to focus on something—anything—to distract himself from the heaviness growing in his chest, but nothing held his mind. The weight pressed deeper, until it became impossible to ignore. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made it worse. His breathing hitched as his paw scraped against the sandy wooden floor, desperate for an anchor, for something tangible.
"Sirius… Don’t you fucking dare fall asleep!" The words tore from his throat, sharp and raw—less of a warning, more of a plea.
“I need to do something…I am going to do something today……” He forced himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily before stumbling up the narrow staircase leading to the telescope. As soon as he reached the top, he collapsed onto the floor, limbs sprawled, breath unsteady.
Through the open roof, the stars stretched endlessly above him. Sirius stared, vision blurring at the edges as he lost track of time.
There was a rustling at the door.
"Wa—?" Sirius jolted awake, too groggy to feel hesitant. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he tumbled down the stairs. Without thinking, he swung the door open.
A dog with floppy ears stepped back slightly at the abrupt movement, a hefty travel backpack slung over his shoulders. Sirius froze, staring at the figure before him. His breath hitched.
“Excuse the rudeness,” the traveler chuckled awkwardly, shifting his weight slightly. “I didn’t expect anyone to be camping out here as well…”
“Bao?” The name left Sirius’s lips before he could stop it.
Bao lifted a brow in surprise. “You… know me?”
“I…” Sirius hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “Yes. You could say that…”
He studied Bao carefully, scanning him up and down, his pulse quickening as he tried to process the unexpected encounter.
“That’s strange,” Bao said, tilting his head. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before. You are?”
Something in Sirius’s chest sank at that. But he swallowed it down before it could show.
“I’m Sirius.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” Bao murmured the words absentmindedly, as if speaking his thoughts aloud.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Come inside, Bao.”
He turned, leading Bao up the stairs to the telescope room. As they reached the top, Bao’s eyes widened. “This place is… wow.” His voice carried a rare excitement, a rarity in times like these. “They always said you could see the stars clearly from here, I’ve always dreamt of using the telescope. I heard this used to be one of the most beautiful buildings in Finnero.”
“Used to, huh?” Sirius murmured. “Things fall apart when no one’s around to take care of them. I’m probably responsible for most of the junk you see here.”
Bao settled his bag down. “Do you work here as an astronomer?”
“Used to.”
“That’s amazing.”
A comfortable silence settled between them as Bao wandered the room, eyes still fixed on the sky. The moonlight reflected in his gaze, and for a moment, Sirius just watched. Then, hesitantly, he spoke.
“So, Bao… what brings you here?”
Bao exhaled. “I wanted to get away from my life. Find a quiet place to finish writing my book. Figured it’s one of the best ways I can spend my time.” He paused, then added, “And I’ve always found inspiration in stargazing. So, my hometown was the only place I could think of for my escape.”
Sirius glanced up at the night sky as Bao spoke. The stars burned bright above them, stretching endlessly.
“Fiction?” Sirius asked under his breath.
“…Mostly.”
“So you’re a writer?”
Bao hesitated. “Not really. It’s just something personal. It felt right to chase this dream of mine now.”
Sirius tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Fulfilling a dream now, huh?”
“So, what are you doing around here?” Bao turned to face Sirius, the space between them bathed by a curtain of moonlight streaming through the slit in the roof.
“A bunch of nothing,” Sirius admitted, tilting his head up toward the sky. “I just sit around, looking at old catalogs of data.” He sank down onto the floor, and Bao followed, settling in across from him. “No real science being done here. I just needed something to fill my brain. Something familiar. Something that makes a little bit of sense.”
Bao nodded slightly. “I heard there’s new physics at play here on the cosmic scale… What do you think caused everything to fall apart?”
“I’m not exactly plugged into research anymore,” Sirius muttered. He hesitated, then let out a tired laugh. “Ah, fuck, who am I kidding? I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Well, I suppose nobody does. Maybe it’s just some kind of… unintelligible force to begin with.”
“Unintelligible force?” Sirius echoed.
“Something unknowable.”
“I know.” A pause. “I don’t… like that.”
Dense silence stretched between them, hanging heavy in the air.
Bao shifted, tilting his head slightly. His floppy ears dangled partially over his face. “So… how did you come to know me? I don’t recall ever meeting you before.”
“I… uh…” Sirius hesitated, at the same time, his head grew heavier, the weight of exhaustion dragging him down. His body swayed, nearly toppling forward onto the floor before he managed to catch himself.
“Sirius,” Bao’s voice was laced with concern, “you don’t look so well. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just… sleep deprivation.”
“I can tell,” Bao frowned. “You’re barely keeping yourself together. I feel guilty for interrupting, you should just go get some sleep. I can head over to my camp.”
Sirius shook his head sluggishly. “You can stay here… if you want. I don’t own this place.”
“Oh, I’d love that.” Bao exclaimed.
“And… no, I don’t want to sleep.” Sirius exhaled slowly. “Keep talking to me. Keep me awake.” He hesitated. “Tell me about your stories, maybe? What are they about?”
Bao raised a brow. “Are you sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Just…go on. I want to hear.”
“Well… you’ll have to wait until I finish it, but I want to write stories about the people I’ve met in my life up to this point.” Bao’s voice softened as he continued, “Hm… how about you tell me something interesting that happened to you instead? Maybe I can add it to my collection of stories.”
“Me? My story?” Sirius blinked. Sirius’s gaze fell to the floor. “I don’t have a story to tell. I don’t have much interesting to say most of the time.” He hesitated. “I’m kind of a boring person.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t feel pressured. I think you’re interesting. You are easy to talk to when you actually do. I don’t just say this to cheer you up, but I enjoy your company.”
“…Thanks.” Sirius replied absentmindedly.
A quiet moment passed before Bao spoke again.
“There must be something particularly memorable to you. Something that meant something to you.”
Sirius felt the familiar heaviness settle in his chest again. He turned to look at Bao, staring at him for a moment, letting the words repeat in his mind. “Things that are memorable to me… Things that meant something to me…”
He looked away, his fingers grazing the floor as if trying to ground himself in the present. “Me… huh?” He exhaled. “I just work. And work. And work. I work to understand things. But I came to learn that I suck at it. It’s hard. It’s so hard. And I try harder. It’s exhausting. But I try harder anyway.”
Sirius leaned back before eventually flopping onto the floor. “I don’t like not understanding. I don’t like not knowing what to do.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s terrifying.” He inhaled sharply. “But things rarely make sense. Things turn pointless and unrecognizable when you look at them long enough. Sometimes, it feels like things just want to be intentionally confusing.”
A pause. Then, a yawn. “I’m not good at answers. And that’s my conclusion so far.” Sirius’ voice wavered slightly and grew quieter, shirking into a whisper as he grew more drowsy. “I don’t like it. But there’s nothing I can do about it…”
His words trailed off into silence, as though the weight of them had lifted into the air, leaving behind an eerie stillness. For a long moment, there were no thoughts, just a profound emptiness that felt oddly comforting. It was as if the world had paused—quiet, suspended in time—and in that quiet, he found a strange peace. A peace that whispered it was okay to let go, okay to drift into sleep. After all, in this moment, he had seen Bao again.
But then, a strange, tickling cold enveloped Sirius. It was subtle yet deeply unpleasant, sinking into him like an invisible frost.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness.
Only darkness before him.
He forced his eyes open wider—nothing. No light, no form, no space. Just an endless vacuum of silence filling his ears, pressing into him, suffocating.
As if he were drowning in void.
His body jerked into motion. He flailed, grasping at nothing, yet somehow feeling resistance—like struggling against an unseen current in a sea of emptiness.
“Oh no, no, shit! Where—”
His voice barely carried, swallowed whole by nothingness.
“I fell asleep…”
“No… no… please… no… please…”
“I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die like this.”
His lungs burned, his body convulsing for air that wasn’t there. Panic overtook him—until, suddenly, clarity struck.
He stilled.
His limbs went rigid.
A strange buoyant force coiled around him, lifting him gently, aimlessly, like a leaf drifting in an unseen tide.
He curled in on himself, small and trembling. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t feel his eyes. He couldn’t feel anything.
He couldn’t even tell if his body was still his own.
Was this body still mine?
Were these thoughts even mine?
Was my life ever mine?
I don’t know.
I don’t even know the answer to that.
The feeling of floating stopped.
Gradually, Sirius became aware of his own helpless weeping—first as a distant murmur, then growing louder, filling his ears from the inside out.
Sirius!
A voice.
His breath hitched, but he didn’t react—not until he felt it.
A paw. Carefully resting on his shoulder.
“It’s alright… you’re safe. I’m here.” Bao’s voice was steady, grounding. He knelt before Sirius, pressing gently on both of his shoulders. Slowly, something solid formed beneath them—an anchor in the emptiness.
Sirius swallowed hard. His chest tightened with something raw, something heavy. “Why is everything suddenly becoming so… difficult?” His voice shook. “Why does nothing make sense anymore? I just… I just want to make sense of something. I just want things to make sense again.” He chanted the words weakly, over and over, as if saying them enough times would make them true.
Minutes passed, stretched thin by the weight of his unsteady breaths. Eventually, Sirius lifted his gaze, eyes hollow and lost.
And then, he saw them.
Tiny specks of light, spanning infinitely into the horizon.
His breath caught.
“Bao…” Sirius murmured. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Bao exhaled, relief flickering across his face at the sound of Sirius’s voice. Slowly, he lowered himself to sit beside him. “Well,” Bao blurted, looking out at the endless void speckled with stars, “if that’s your rule, why don’t you break it for me?” His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “This place… it’s kind of… ‘bizarre,’ huh?”
Sirius let out a shaky breath. “It’s my first time too,” he admitted. “The first time I am stuck in this… place…” Sirius hesitated, then spoke softly. “Bao, I trust you to treat what I am saying seriously, but-” His voice wavered, but he pushed through. “We know each other. We were really close friends. I know it sounds insane,” Sirius continued, rushing the words out before doubt could swallow them. “And I don’t have a way to prove it to you, but—” His voice faltered. “I—I don’t even know if you’re the same Bao. I don’t even know if you’re real.”
He clenched his jaw, his body trembling.
“But…”
“I—I’m so happy to see you again.”
Silence.
Bao stared at him for a long moment, unreadable. Then, slowly, his expression softened. “You know, Sirius…” he said quietly. “Just from talking to you… I feel it.” Bao’s voice was steady, certain. “It makes complete sense that we knew each other at some point in space and time.” His ears flicked slightly, his gaze unwavering. “I’d even say it makes more sense that way.”
Bao looked over to Sirius, strangely calm. There was a gentleness in Bao’s gaze—something steady, unwavering. It assured Sirius, wordlessly, that he would be safe to share what haunted him.
Sirius exhaled. “Ever since that day… every time I wake up from sleep, I realize things…shifts around me.”
He paused, his voice fragile but pressing on.
“One day, it’s the postcode number. Another day, it’s the location of buildings.”
“It’s like… a ‘dream apocalypse,’ where your nonsensical dreams suddenly try to take over reality—but in the worst way possible.”
“What’s real and what’s not doesn’t even matter anymore.” His voice trembled. “That’s terrifying. What am I supposed to make of that? That you just get to… choose a version of nonsense to live in?”
“After everyone knew the world was going to end, I started leaping between universes. Almost…everyday.”
His throat tightened.
“It was like… I was trying to find a universe where none of this ever happened. A universe where, when I wake up, everything will be fine again.”
He shook his head.
“But every time—every single time—I wake up to a world that’s still falling apart.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, he almost couldn’t speak.
“And worse… I wake up to people I knew disappearing. Wiped from existence. Every iteration, the world only fucking got worse.”
“You know how people say you can’t expect to wake up and magically feel okay again? Well, but I want exactly that.”
“I want to wake up, and for everything to be fine again. But no. Every impossible, godforsaken thing becomes reality each time I open my eyes—except for that one.”
His body trembled.
“What do you mean everything I knew could just fade away like it was a dream?”
He let out a shaky breath.
“But somehow, I was stuck with the worst nightmare possible.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“It’s cruel.”
“If everything is just a nonsensical dream… why even bother?”
The silence that followed felt heavy.
“I can’t say I’ve never felt the same.” Bao’s voice was steady, calm.
“But you have to realize—feeling frustrated is proof that we care. A whole lot. About this life we have.”
“As much as we try to deny it—when nothing makes sense, when everything feels like a pointless struggle—there’s a part of us that still wants to see another day.”
Bao exhaled softly. “I know you always find the strength to move on. To hold yourself together. That’s how you got this far.” His voice was warm. Certain. “That is nothing but strength.”
“You’re not bad with answers, Sirius,” Bao continued.
“Not all answers have to be solutions.”
“ I think, trying to live through another day has been your answer.”
“It’s perhaps the essence of our existence to want to give this life a go. There is a truth to it that holds true even when nothing else makes sense anymore.”
Bao’s eyes softened. “I believe you’re strong enough to find more answers. Ones you can be happy with. “
“You are… a very strong person.”
A beat of silence.
Then, quietly, Sirius murmured—
“Bao……”
“You’re… amazing as well.”
"Bao…"
"I’m scared…" Sirius exhaled, his breath trembling.
"I’m scared of seeing the end of the world."
"I’m scared of being alone."
"I’m scared of going to sleep."
He swallowed hard.
"I need someone to talk to. I never realized that before."
Bao didn’t hesitate. "Well… doesn’t matter if I’m ‘supposed’ to be here or not, Sirius." His voice was steady, unwavering. "I am here."
Bao whispered it like an undeniable truth, staring off into the sea of stars. For a brief moment, they seemed to shimmer just a little brighter. Sirius watched him. And in his pupils, a light flickered. And at that moment, Bao was like a lighthouse. A reality anchor in an ocean of uncertainty.
"That’s the Galactic Core." Sirius blurted.
Bao blinked. "Hm?"
Noticing Sirius staring past him, he turned, reorienting himself. And then, silence.
Sirius slowly stood up, transfixed by the swirling light in the distance.
Bao, still kneeling, tilted his head up, watching Sirius—his silhouette standing tall against the cosmos.
A spark of something unfamiliar—no—something deeply familiar, lit up in Sirius’s chest.
"Bao, I think…"
"I might… know the way back."
His heart pounded.
"I don’t know if I’ll be right, but—"
He turned to Bao, eyes burning with newfound clarity.
"I need you to trust me."
A pause. A breath.
"I—I want to go back."
He reached down, gripping Bao’s paw tight. The warmth of it felt more real than anything else in this fractured reality.
Bao, without a moment’s hesitation, took his padded hand.
Sirius pulled him up.
"Hold on tight, Bao."
"We’re going to run."
Bao’s ears twitched. "Run?"
Sirius locked eyes with him once more.
"Yes. We’ll run and—" His grip tightened.
"Please don’t let go."
For a split second, they stood there, unmoving, the warmth between their locked paws merging.
Then—
They sprinted.
And sprinted.
And sprinted.
The specks of light around them stretched into streaks, lines bending and twisting as if space itself were unraveling.
Reality fractured.
Cracks spiderwebbed through existence, boiling, churning. The cosmos spiraled into a kaleidoscope of colors, warping, distorting. Time lost all meaning.
Their senses melted away—except for one thing.
The warmth between their paws.
It stayed. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
He held his breath, glancing around cautiously. Everything remained familiar. The dusty dark oak bookshelves curved along the circular walls, their surfaces worn by time. Brass metallic frames arched overhead, supporting the domed ceiling. And in the center of the confined, dimly lit space stood the telescope, an unmoving relic peeking out from the dome-shaped roof, its structure frozen in time, slowly rusting under the elements like the branches of a dying metallic tree.
Accompanying him was the familiar dead silence and specks of dust that quietly blinked in and out of his vision as they caught the sunlight pouring in from the dome above him while he moved around and stirred the air.
The sensation of starvation took over as the grogginess faded.
“Ugh. Is the Sun already setting?” The body aches began to kick in full swing as soon as he stepped out of the observatory into the sun. Sirius curled in on himself instinctively in response to the rollercoaster of unpleasantness. Each time sleep deprivation caught up with him, it never grew any more bearable.
The ever-present roar of the ocean whispered in the distance. He made his way down the grassy path leading to the cliff’s edge, his footsteps crunching against the tall blades. The crisp, salty air faded into stillness as he reached the entrance of a minute-long forest path. For a brief moment, nothing stirred, until the distant screech of insects slowly filled the air again as he approached Finnero, now a ghost town that was just starting to be reclaimed by the surrounding plant life.
The ghost town before him still looked familiar, yet Sirius took a long moment to look around in a sudden moment of paranoia. Buildings stood in defiant silence. Moss clung to cracked walls, unkempt weeds burst through stone, and nameless sprouts pushed through fractured pavement. Vines draped across surfaces like inked veins, merging with the enigmatic vandalism scrawled upon forgotten structures.
Sirius' spine straightened as his gaze settled on a familiar sight—the weathered wooden sign of the Fireplace, an old restaurant standing amid the slow decay in the shape of a wooden cabin. He quickened his pace, his steps faltering.
Running a paw over his face, he tried to shake off the haze, his fingers brushing against the unkempt strands of dark fur spilling from the loosely buttoned front of his milky-white suit. He tugged at the waistband of his long black pants, securing them before pushing open the restaurant’s door.
The interior was bathed in warm, natural light filtering through the open entrance. Signs of life lingered within the well-kept cabin—a clean countertop, an unlit yet intact fireplace, even a decorative snow globe perched on a shelf.
Sirius moved toward a seat near the counter and sank into it, exhaling as he finally found a bit of relief from the bodily pain that was irking him.
“Castle……”
Sirius called out, the echo reverberating in the empty restaurant, no signs of anyone yet. Sirius froze as a suspicion crept up on him.
“Castle?”
He called out again, weaker this time, staring at the floor as his heartbeat pounded louder in his ears with every unanswered call. His paws curled around himself, claws digging into his own arms as a numbing sensation ebbed beneath his chest. He stared into the quiet wooden cabin, fighting the bitter feeling stirring within him.
“Sirius?”
A familiar, deep, warm voice pulled him back.
“Something bad happened? Lone wolf?” A tall, broad-shouldered grizzly bear entered the room, a basket slung over his back. He wore his usual red apron, brushing past Sirius with casual ease.
“Oh, no…” Sirius hesitated. “It’s just that I thought you had…”
“Disappeared?” Castle’s tiny ears perked. “Sorry, I got a little carried away with foraging. Winter is coming, so I want to make sure I’m well prepared.” Castle chuckled. “I wish you could have seen your face back then… I didn’t know you’d be this distraught if I were gone. You sure like me a lot, huh?”
“You know I don’t find this funny, right?” Sirius retorted.
“You never bought any of my bullshit, that’s why I like you.” Castle gave Sirius a toothy grin. “Yeah… sorry, I was just trying to tease you, get you into a new headspace.”
“It’s alright. I know you mean well, old guy, you always do. And, of course, I’d be sad. You’re the only one crazy enough to be this… normal when everything else is falling apart. Your place is a sanctuary.”
“I’m just lucky enough to not have enough reasons to freak out. And enough time to think about this sort of thing.” Castle’s voice drifted from the kitchen, the sound of water running and vegetables being chopped filling the space. “I’m also not trapped in a personal hell like you are.” With a practiced motion, Castle placed an oak-wood bowl of freshly prepared salad in front of Sirius. “I would have fallen apart completely if I were in your place. You have such tenacity that I can’t help but want to root for you. I try my best to preserve this little bit of ‘normal’ for you. You are my only customer, after all.”
“Well, I’m hardly a customer, I don’t even pay you…” Sirius muttered before wolfing down his meal in a few messy bites.
Castle laughed coldly. “Well, you help me play this crazy game of being normal too. Can’t imagine doing a one-man show. So, it’s a forever win-win between us.” Castle leaned towards Sirius playfully. “Fist bump?”
Sirius shook his head gently.
“Hugs?”
Sirius leaned forward, wrapping Castle in a tight squeeze around his thick mane from across the counter.
“Woah… that was unexpected.” “You feeling better now?”
“Much. Thanks for everything, Castle.”
“…Before you go wolf, coffee.”
Sirius gulped it down like water.
“You gulp it down like it’s nothing.”
“And I don’t even like coffee.”
Castle frowned, rubbing his forehead. “I worry if you keep this up, you’ll end up dead before the world ends on you. It can’t be healthy, running on this little sleep.” He paused and observed Sirius, growing uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “…You’re going to be okay, right, Sirius? You know, you can stay here longer for an extra meal if you want to, I got plenty of food in stock here.”
“It’s fine, no ‘normal’ customer would stay in a restaurant.” Sirius murmured.
Castle shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to commit to the normal ‘roleplay’ that hard, you know? The point has always been to keep everyone feeling better—well, ‘everyone’ being me and you, of course. There’s nothing sacred about the ‘normal’ beyond that, we make the rules and we get to break them.”
“It’s fine… I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.” Sirius let the warmth of their exchange settle inside him, but he suppressed it, pushing himself upright. His voice wavered slightly.
“Ah. See you tomorrow, hopefully.” Castle waved.
Sirius turned quickly, avoiding Castle’s gaze as he left. The heavy feeling lingered as he walked away, his eyes fixed on the empty space ahead as he autopiloted back to the abandoned observatory.
The familiar, stagnant air of the observatory’s main hall filled Sirius’s lungs once more. The tiny, enclosed space was in shambles, yet unchanged. He stood motionless, staring into the emptiness before him, before slowly making his way to a familiar corner of the abandoned building. With his back against the wall, he slid down and sat in silence.
The ebbing headache clawed at his skull again, the weight of sleep debt returning to torment him. But he was used to the cycle. He didn’t groan, didn’t wince—just curled up in the corner like an infant, staying perfectly still, waiting for it to pass.
His eyes wandered over the mess around him: layers of sand and dust, dried twigs, crumpled star maps, books scattered from their wooden shelves, trying to find a focal point for his eyes. He tried to focus on something—anything—to distract himself from the heaviness growing in his chest, but nothing held his mind. The weight pressed deeper, until it became impossible to ignore. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made it worse. His breathing hitched as his paw scraped against the sandy wooden floor, desperate for an anchor, for something tangible.
"Sirius… Don’t you fucking dare fall asleep!" The words tore from his throat, sharp and raw—less of a warning, more of a plea.
“I need to do something…I am going to do something today……” He forced himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily before stumbling up the narrow staircase leading to the telescope. As soon as he reached the top, he collapsed onto the floor, limbs sprawled, breath unsteady.
Through the open roof, the stars stretched endlessly above him. Sirius stared, vision blurring at the edges as he lost track of time.
There was a rustling at the door.
"Wa—?" Sirius jolted awake, too groggy to feel hesitant. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he tumbled down the stairs. Without thinking, he swung the door open.
A dog with floppy ears stepped back slightly at the abrupt movement, a hefty travel backpack slung over his shoulders. Sirius froze, staring at the figure before him. His breath hitched.
“Excuse the rudeness,” the traveler chuckled awkwardly, shifting his weight slightly. “I didn’t expect anyone to be camping out here as well…”
“Bao?” The name left Sirius’s lips before he could stop it.
Bao lifted a brow in surprise. “You… know me?”
“I…” Sirius hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “Yes. You could say that…”
He studied Bao carefully, scanning him up and down, his pulse quickening as he tried to process the unexpected encounter.
“That’s strange,” Bao said, tilting his head. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before. You are?”
Something in Sirius’s chest sank at that. But he swallowed it down before it could show.
“I’m Sirius.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” Bao murmured the words absentmindedly, as if speaking his thoughts aloud.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Come inside, Bao.”
He turned, leading Bao up the stairs to the telescope room. As they reached the top, Bao’s eyes widened. “This place is… wow.” His voice carried a rare excitement, a rarity in times like these. “They always said you could see the stars clearly from here, I’ve always dreamt of using the telescope. I heard this used to be one of the most beautiful buildings in Finnero.”
“Used to, huh?” Sirius murmured. “Things fall apart when no one’s around to take care of them. I’m probably responsible for most of the junk you see here.”
Bao settled his bag down. “Do you work here as an astronomer?”
“Used to.”
“That’s amazing.”
A comfortable silence settled between them as Bao wandered the room, eyes still fixed on the sky. The moonlight reflected in his gaze, and for a moment, Sirius just watched. Then, hesitantly, he spoke.
“So, Bao… what brings you here?”
Bao exhaled. “I wanted to get away from my life. Find a quiet place to finish writing my book. Figured it’s one of the best ways I can spend my time.” He paused, then added, “And I’ve always found inspiration in stargazing. So, my hometown was the only place I could think of for my escape.”
Sirius glanced up at the night sky as Bao spoke. The stars burned bright above them, stretching endlessly.
“Fiction?” Sirius asked under his breath.
“…Mostly.”
“So you’re a writer?”
Bao hesitated. “Not really. It’s just something personal. It felt right to chase this dream of mine now.”
Sirius tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Fulfilling a dream now, huh?”
“So, what are you doing around here?” Bao turned to face Sirius, the space between them bathed by a curtain of moonlight streaming through the slit in the roof.
“A bunch of nothing,” Sirius admitted, tilting his head up toward the sky. “I just sit around, looking at old catalogs of data.” He sank down onto the floor, and Bao followed, settling in across from him. “No real science being done here. I just needed something to fill my brain. Something familiar. Something that makes a little bit of sense.”
Bao nodded slightly. “I heard there’s new physics at play here on the cosmic scale… What do you think caused everything to fall apart?”
“I’m not exactly plugged into research anymore,” Sirius muttered. He hesitated, then let out a tired laugh. “Ah, fuck, who am I kidding? I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Well, I suppose nobody does. Maybe it’s just some kind of… unintelligible force to begin with.”
“Unintelligible force?” Sirius echoed.
“Something unknowable.”
“I know.” A pause. “I don’t… like that.”
Dense silence stretched between them, hanging heavy in the air.
Bao shifted, tilting his head slightly. His floppy ears dangled partially over his face. “So… how did you come to know me? I don’t recall ever meeting you before.”
“I… uh…” Sirius hesitated, at the same time, his head grew heavier, the weight of exhaustion dragging him down. His body swayed, nearly toppling forward onto the floor before he managed to catch himself.
“Sirius,” Bao’s voice was laced with concern, “you don’t look so well. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just… sleep deprivation.”
“I can tell,” Bao frowned. “You’re barely keeping yourself together. I feel guilty for interrupting, you should just go get some sleep. I can head over to my camp.”
Sirius shook his head sluggishly. “You can stay here… if you want. I don’t own this place.”
“Oh, I’d love that.” Bao exclaimed.
“And… no, I don’t want to sleep.” Sirius exhaled slowly. “Keep talking to me. Keep me awake.” He hesitated. “Tell me about your stories, maybe? What are they about?”
Bao raised a brow. “Are you sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Just…go on. I want to hear.”
“Well… you’ll have to wait until I finish it, but I want to write stories about the people I’ve met in my life up to this point.” Bao’s voice softened as he continued, “Hm… how about you tell me something interesting that happened to you instead? Maybe I can add it to my collection of stories.”
“Me? My story?” Sirius blinked. Sirius’s gaze fell to the floor. “I don’t have a story to tell. I don’t have much interesting to say most of the time.” He hesitated. “I’m kind of a boring person.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t feel pressured. I think you’re interesting. You are easy to talk to when you actually do. I don’t just say this to cheer you up, but I enjoy your company.”
“…Thanks.” Sirius replied absentmindedly.
A quiet moment passed before Bao spoke again.
“There must be something particularly memorable to you. Something that meant something to you.”
Sirius felt the familiar heaviness settle in his chest again. He turned to look at Bao, staring at him for a moment, letting the words repeat in his mind. “Things that are memorable to me… Things that meant something to me…”
He looked away, his fingers grazing the floor as if trying to ground himself in the present. “Me… huh?” He exhaled. “I just work. And work. And work. I work to understand things. But I came to learn that I suck at it. It’s hard. It’s so hard. And I try harder. It’s exhausting. But I try harder anyway.”
Sirius leaned back before eventually flopping onto the floor. “I don’t like not understanding. I don’t like not knowing what to do.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s terrifying.” He inhaled sharply. “But things rarely make sense. Things turn pointless and unrecognizable when you look at them long enough. Sometimes, it feels like things just want to be intentionally confusing.”
A pause. Then, a yawn. “I’m not good at answers. And that’s my conclusion so far.” Sirius’ voice wavered slightly and grew quieter, shirking into a whisper as he grew more drowsy. “I don’t like it. But there’s nothing I can do about it…”
His words trailed off into silence, as though the weight of them had lifted into the air, leaving behind an eerie stillness. For a long moment, there were no thoughts, just a profound emptiness that felt oddly comforting. It was as if the world had paused—quiet, suspended in time—and in that quiet, he found a strange peace. A peace that whispered it was okay to let go, okay to drift into sleep. After all, in this moment, he had seen Bao again.
But then, a strange, tickling cold enveloped Sirius. It was subtle yet deeply unpleasant, sinking into him like an invisible frost.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness.
Only darkness before him.
He forced his eyes open wider—nothing. No light, no form, no space. Just an endless vacuum of silence filling his ears, pressing into him, suffocating.
As if he were drowning in void.
His body jerked into motion. He flailed, grasping at nothing, yet somehow feeling resistance—like struggling against an unseen current in a sea of emptiness.
“Oh no, no, shit! Where—”
His voice barely carried, swallowed whole by nothingness.
“I fell asleep…”
“No… no… please… no… please…”
“I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die like this.”
His lungs burned, his body convulsing for air that wasn’t there. Panic overtook him—until, suddenly, clarity struck.
He stilled.
His limbs went rigid.
A strange buoyant force coiled around him, lifting him gently, aimlessly, like a leaf drifting in an unseen tide.
He curled in on himself, small and trembling. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t feel his eyes. He couldn’t feel anything.
He couldn’t even tell if his body was still his own.
Was this body still mine?
Were these thoughts even mine?
Was my life ever mine?
I don’t know.
I don’t even know the answer to that.
The feeling of floating stopped.
Gradually, Sirius became aware of his own helpless weeping—first as a distant murmur, then growing louder, filling his ears from the inside out.
Sirius!
A voice.
His breath hitched, but he didn’t react—not until he felt it.
A paw. Carefully resting on his shoulder.
“It’s alright… you’re safe. I’m here.” Bao’s voice was steady, grounding. He knelt before Sirius, pressing gently on both of his shoulders. Slowly, something solid formed beneath them—an anchor in the emptiness.
Sirius swallowed hard. His chest tightened with something raw, something heavy. “Why is everything suddenly becoming so… difficult?” His voice shook. “Why does nothing make sense anymore? I just… I just want to make sense of something. I just want things to make sense again.” He chanted the words weakly, over and over, as if saying them enough times would make them true.
Minutes passed, stretched thin by the weight of his unsteady breaths. Eventually, Sirius lifted his gaze, eyes hollow and lost.
And then, he saw them.
Tiny specks of light, spanning infinitely into the horizon.
His breath caught.
“Bao…” Sirius murmured. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Bao exhaled, relief flickering across his face at the sound of Sirius’s voice. Slowly, he lowered himself to sit beside him. “Well,” Bao blurted, looking out at the endless void speckled with stars, “if that’s your rule, why don’t you break it for me?” His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “This place… it’s kind of… ‘bizarre,’ huh?”
Sirius let out a shaky breath. “It’s my first time too,” he admitted. “The first time I am stuck in this… place…” Sirius hesitated, then spoke softly. “Bao, I trust you to treat what I am saying seriously, but-” His voice wavered, but he pushed through. “We know each other. We were really close friends. I know it sounds insane,” Sirius continued, rushing the words out before doubt could swallow them. “And I don’t have a way to prove it to you, but—” His voice faltered. “I—I don’t even know if you’re the same Bao. I don’t even know if you’re real.”
He clenched his jaw, his body trembling.
“But…”
“I—I’m so happy to see you again.”
Silence.
Bao stared at him for a long moment, unreadable. Then, slowly, his expression softened. “You know, Sirius…” he said quietly. “Just from talking to you… I feel it.” Bao’s voice was steady, certain. “It makes complete sense that we knew each other at some point in space and time.” His ears flicked slightly, his gaze unwavering. “I’d even say it makes more sense that way.”
Bao looked over to Sirius, strangely calm. There was a gentleness in Bao’s gaze—something steady, unwavering. It assured Sirius, wordlessly, that he would be safe to share what haunted him.
Sirius exhaled. “Ever since that day… every time I wake up from sleep, I realize things…shifts around me.”
He paused, his voice fragile but pressing on.
“One day, it’s the postcode number. Another day, it’s the location of buildings.”
“It’s like… a ‘dream apocalypse,’ where your nonsensical dreams suddenly try to take over reality—but in the worst way possible.”
“What’s real and what’s not doesn’t even matter anymore.” His voice trembled. “That’s terrifying. What am I supposed to make of that? That you just get to… choose a version of nonsense to live in?”
“After everyone knew the world was going to end, I started leaping between universes. Almost…everyday.”
His throat tightened.
“It was like… I was trying to find a universe where none of this ever happened. A universe where, when I wake up, everything will be fine again.”
He shook his head.
“But every time—every single time—I wake up to a world that’s still falling apart.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, he almost couldn’t speak.
“And worse… I wake up to people I knew disappearing. Wiped from existence. Every iteration, the world only fucking got worse.”
“You know how people say you can’t expect to wake up and magically feel okay again? Well, but I want exactly that.”
“I want to wake up, and for everything to be fine again. But no. Every impossible, godforsaken thing becomes reality each time I open my eyes—except for that one.”
His body trembled.
“What do you mean everything I knew could just fade away like it was a dream?”
He let out a shaky breath.
“But somehow, I was stuck with the worst nightmare possible.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“It’s cruel.”
“If everything is just a nonsensical dream… why even bother?”
The silence that followed felt heavy.
“I can’t say I’ve never felt the same.” Bao’s voice was steady, calm.
“But you have to realize—feeling frustrated is proof that we care. A whole lot. About this life we have.”
“As much as we try to deny it—when nothing makes sense, when everything feels like a pointless struggle—there’s a part of us that still wants to see another day.”
Bao exhaled softly. “I know you always find the strength to move on. To hold yourself together. That’s how you got this far.” His voice was warm. Certain. “That is nothing but strength.”
“You’re not bad with answers, Sirius,” Bao continued.
“Not all answers have to be solutions.”
“ I think, trying to live through another day has been your answer.”
“It’s perhaps the essence of our existence to want to give this life a go. There is a truth to it that holds true even when nothing else makes sense anymore.”
Bao’s eyes softened. “I believe you’re strong enough to find more answers. Ones you can be happy with. “
“You are… a very strong person.”
A beat of silence.
Then, quietly, Sirius murmured—
“Bao……”
“You’re… amazing as well.”
"Bao…"
"I’m scared…" Sirius exhaled, his breath trembling.
"I’m scared of seeing the end of the world."
"I’m scared of being alone."
"I’m scared of going to sleep."
He swallowed hard.
"I need someone to talk to. I never realized that before."
Bao didn’t hesitate. "Well… doesn’t matter if I’m ‘supposed’ to be here or not, Sirius." His voice was steady, unwavering. "I am here."
Bao whispered it like an undeniable truth, staring off into the sea of stars. For a brief moment, they seemed to shimmer just a little brighter. Sirius watched him. And in his pupils, a light flickered. And at that moment, Bao was like a lighthouse. A reality anchor in an ocean of uncertainty.
"That’s the Galactic Core." Sirius blurted.
Bao blinked. "Hm?"
Noticing Sirius staring past him, he turned, reorienting himself. And then, silence.
Sirius slowly stood up, transfixed by the swirling light in the distance.
Bao, still kneeling, tilted his head up, watching Sirius—his silhouette standing tall against the cosmos.
A spark of something unfamiliar—no—something deeply familiar, lit up in Sirius’s chest.
"Bao, I think…"
"I might… know the way back."
His heart pounded.
"I don’t know if I’ll be right, but—"
He turned to Bao, eyes burning with newfound clarity.
"I need you to trust me."
A pause. A breath.
"I—I want to go back."
He reached down, gripping Bao’s paw tight. The warmth of it felt more real than anything else in this fractured reality.
Bao, without a moment’s hesitation, took his padded hand.
Sirius pulled him up.
"Hold on tight, Bao."
"We’re going to run."
Bao’s ears twitched. "Run?"
Sirius locked eyes with him once more.
"Yes. We’ll run and—" His grip tightened.
"Please don’t let go."
For a split second, they stood there, unmoving, the warmth between their locked paws merging.
Then—
They sprinted.
And sprinted.
And sprinted.
The specks of light around them stretched into streaks, lines bending and twisting as if space itself were unraveling.
Reality fractured.
Cracks spiderwebbed through existence, boiling, churning. The cosmos spiraled into a kaleidoscope of colors, warping, distorting. Time lost all meaning.
Their senses melted away—except for one thing.
The warmth between their paws.
It stayed. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
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