A bad smell led him into Dream. Now he’s spiralling through an existential mess, out of his depth and dangerously close to mattering.

 Finkle knew two things: the smell was unbearable, and it definitely wasn’t natural. Which meant it was probably interdimensional. So he did the only logical thing: took a nap, entered Dream, and went looking for a way to fix what he’d broken.

Instead, he stumbled into a situation so warped the smell quickly became the least of his problems. Now he’s the unwilling star of a tragicomic soap opera somehow broadcast across Existence, guided by a sequence of eerily identical figures who navigate cosmic chaos with deeply suspicious confidence.

With a broken object in his backpack and copper mesh glowing beneath his skin like it’s always belonged there, Finkle must navigate baffling realms, suspended dreamscapes, and enough metaphysical red tape to make the end of reality feel weirdly procedural.

As things unravel, he begins to suspect he didn’t just accidentally cause a problem. Unfortunately, he may also be part of the solution.

If you like your fiction flummoxing, existentially unhinged, and laced with dry humour, step inside. Warning: it gets weird in here.