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Updated: Jan 25


In the hush of the night, my slumber was pierced by a dream that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of my earthly existence. It began as I rose from my bed and traversed the few steps to the doorway. I flipped the switch, illuminating the hallway, a gesture replicated endlessly in my waking life. Yet, in this nocturnal tableau, the atmosphere was charged with an otherness that was neither my creation nor a figment of my subconscious.

A momentary glance backward at the clock on my dresser was abruptly severed as the bedroom door began to close off its own volition. My hands met the wood, pushing against a force that swelled with an intensity, not of this world. The door buckled and strained, a physical barrier against an unseen foe.

A cold dread crept up my spine; a primal fear clawed at my mind with icy fingers. Shadows seemed to writhe and dance around the edges of my vision, materializing into grotesque forms that whispered threats in a language not meant for human ears. The air grew thick, suffocating, as if the atmosphere conspired to crush my resolve.

I knew only the imperative to resist, to expel the trespasser with a resolute "NO" that echoed with more power than any dreamt sound should. Then, to my relief, the oppressive force retreated, dissolving into the ether from whence it came, but not without leaving a lingering chill, a haunting reminder that it could return.

I sought refuge in my bed, the dream fading as I slipped into a dreamless sleep. Upon waking the following day, in the clear light of morning, the understanding crystallized within me. This had not been a mere nightmare or the subconscious untangling its threads. As I sat with the remnants of the nocturnal struggle lingering in my mind, I pondered the source of such a vivid encounter.

The realization dawned with unsettling clarity. The Asuras—the ancient beings of myth, known for their opposition to the celestial deities—had breached the boundaries of my soul. The question that burned in the daylight was whether my recent novel had inadvertently summoned them, had my crafted words stirred these malevolent entities from their subterranean realms? It was a thought that would haunt the sunlit hours and the many nights to come.

In this moment of revelation, I recognized that my journey through the dream world had been more than a mere spectral visitation. I had traversed beyond the ethereal veils of sleep into a more profound, primal realm: the sub-earthly spirit world. This realm, a vast and shadowy landscape, whispered of ancient truths and fears, a place where the rules of our world held no sway. In this twilight of consciousness, I had witnessed the unbridled manifestation of darkness lurking in myth and within the crevices of the human soul.

This encounter, unsettling as it was, marked a profound turning point. It was a clear message that the boundaries between our world and the hidden realms were thinner than I had ever imagined. I realized that my stories, once mere fabrications of imagination, might indeed be gateways to these forgotten worlds, stirring ancient forces that had long slumbered in the depths. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. As I moved through the routines of my day, the shadows seemed to watch, a silent reminder of the unseen world that I had glimpsed and the darkness that I had witnessed—a darkness that, perhaps, was now aware of my existence.

It appears that my latest work, "The Asuras: A Dream World Odyssey," has resonated far beyond the realm of speculative fiction. Maybe it's time for you - dear reader, to delve into the pages that have awakened these ancient, malevolent entities — The Asuras themselves. Would you dare to explore the tale that has roused the attention of such formidable beings from the shadows of myth?

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