Morpheus

Morpheus's Arc
Chapter 3 of 8

Morpheus's dream is hoping to be forgiven by the one he failed to protect nearly forty thousand years ago.

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by @SpeSalvi
Chapter 3 comic
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Chapter 3

The days blur together. Morpheus sits by the window and watches the light shift across the path outside. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't move except to stand and pace when the stillness becomes unbearable, then returns to the chair and resumes his watch. On the seventh day, a presence settles beside him. Not Phantasos. Morpheus knows without turning who it is — he can feel the weight of endings in the air, the scent of finality that clings to those who guide mortals across thresholds. A scythe leans against the wall near the corner nook, its blade catching the dim light. The figure doesn't speak, just sits in the shadows and waits alongside him. Morpheus opens his mouth to ask why they're here, but closes it again. The answer is obvious. Death doesn't come early. When they arrive, it means the vigil is ending. Morpheus stands and faces the figure. "How long?" His voice comes out steadier than he expected. The figure tilts their head, considering. "Hours," they say. "Maybe less." They pause, then add, "I thought you might want company for this part." Morpheus nods slowly. He's been alone for forty thousand years. He doesn't have to finish the wait that way. He sits back down, and the figure remains beside him, silent and patient. For the first time since he built this place, Morpheus isn't waiting alone. When the thread finally pulls taut, he'll be ready — and he won't be the only witness. He reaches for the dream catcher hanging near the window and turns it slowly in his hands. The feathers catch the light, shifting colors with each rotation. He hung it there on the first day, thinking it might help him stay focused. Now it feels like something else — proof that he showed up, that he stayed, that when the moment comes he won't freeze. He sets it down gently and looks at the figure beside him. "Thank you," he says. The figure nods once. Outside, the light begins to change. The thread trembles. Morpheus breathes in and stands, moving toward the door that opens both ways. This time, he won't hesitate.

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