I've definitely been here before.
There's no mistaking it now. The walls, the faint crack in the floor, even that crooked vase on the shelf—it's all exactly the same.
But as I stood there, something else started to bother me.
"...Wait a second."
This wasn't just déjà vu. There was something fundamentally wrong about this place.
'Can dreams even be this detailed?'
No matter how vivid a dream is, there's always a limit.
In my first dream—the one where I admired that breathtaking landscape—it had all seemed real at first glance. But once the chaos began, I'd realized the subtle flaws. The details didn't add up.
No rustling leaves, no chirping birds, not even a single cloud drifting across the sky. It was beautiful, yes—but still artificial, like a painting missing its final strokes.
But this place…
This was different.
