He had gotten used to this state. Between his dreams and the waking world. It wasn’t some commonplace superior dreaming, lucid or otherwise. He was at an interval of worlds, lost between his dreamscape and…that of another? Another world? Another plane of existence? He always wasted his time there thinking about what it was.
The world…dream? It was full of spectacular colors, bizarre shapes and structures, and yet there were no people or animals. Or maybe he just couldn’t identify them. That was possible, things moved after all. He thought they moved. He hoped against all hope that they moved. It was all so fantastic, it had to be alive. He needed it to be real.
The internet. It was all he knew. Or most of what he knew anyway. He was more of a lurker, stalking chatroom after chatroom. He knew more than his post count would ever let on; ages, pictures, locations, all manner of embarrassing tales written in drunken stupors and deleted in sober haste.
It was weird, he’d never thought about himself between this place. And why something so vague and unimportant? Maybe it was important–when did this world begin to appear? Was it his world? He needed to stop asking so many questions. Why hadn’t he tried exploring the world?
…That was the last question. For now anyhow.
He was walking. He hadn’t done that before. It was an bizarre sensation. He walked along the ground, the grass. This world left him in a strange outfit. Heavy black boots that appeared too large for his feet, pants that felt two sizes too small, a leather jacket that looked torn and beaten. It was all definitely for fashion, not function. He was carrying a large backpack as well, but he didn’t waste time inspecting it. Not today. He continued walking along, he noticed there was no breeze. Nor a visible sun. Not even a cloud in the sky. And yet what he figured were trees swayed and the world was full of light. And full of shadows for clouds that weren’t there. Slowly he began to understand what was going on in this strange world.