As the dwellers wove their stories into the world, so too did they weave them into the fabric of their sleep.
Their dreams, once solitary islands, began to connect, forming an archipelago of shared consciousness in the quiet sea of the night.
One dweller’s dream of the first flower would be visited by another’s memory of the first bee, and a third would dream the scent of pollen on the wind.
Their sleep became a second world, a place where stories were not just told, but lived.