--------Two Weeks Prior--------

Henry took the train to work. It was a fairly short commute, some twenty to thirty minutes, providing the train was on time. It sometimes was. At present, Henry was sitting on that very train, having just boarded moments ago. Not long after sitting down Henry's thoughts drifted to a recurring internal debate he had been indulging in recently. A debate about his usual choice of breakfast.

Should I switch from porridge to granola?

It was this very question that had been plaguing his mind for some time. Truth be told he cared little for either, nor was he particularly bothered about staying 'healthy', which both choices reportedly were. He had used to eat toast with jam, but while living with his now ex-girlfriend, April, who had cared about such things, he had got into the habit of eating the same as her. Even after April left him to go work on the other side of the world three years back, he hadn't reverted, it had simply been less hassle.

The origin of this internal debate was a recent realisation, that by switching from porridge to granola he could save almost one and a half minutes every day, which was around the amount of time it took for his porridge to cook in the microwave. He had then gone on to calculate just how much time this could save him in a year, then ten years. It was a surprising amount! What did he plan to spend that extra time on? Well that was the easy part, sleep, of course. An extra minute and a half of sleep every day, was something he was truly pining for. Still, actually switching was quite troublesome. There were so many different kinds of granola in his local supermarket, that he could waste a good portion of the saved time just deciding on which to buy! This further realisation had lead him to stick to purchasing porridge in his last few supermarket visits, and yet, he still wasn't truly decided, hence the continued pondering.

Sometime during this intense internal conflict, Henry had fallen asleep. He didn't realise at first, as he was of course, unconscious. However, soon enough he became aware that he was dreaming.

He found himself suddenly perched near the edge of a rocky outcropping, atop a high cliff. Before him lay what he could safely describe as a foreboding wasteland. As far his eyes could see, there were spindly rocky pillars of varying thickness and height, protruding from the ground. A dark red substance, which he was presuming to be blood, was pooled in vast quantities across the landscape, and seemingly dripping from most of the pillars. In the distance he could make out shadowy shapes moving about.

As his gaze wandered to the horizon he saw the sky was dark, with a strong reddish tint, yet his vision was unimpaired. Scanning the sky, his eyes caught on a gigantic stellar object that hung there. It was a massive black sphere, looming perilously over the landscape below.

Well this is possibly the weirdest dream I’ve had in a long time.

Henry was immediately shocked by the clarity of his own thoughts.

Woah, what the... Is this a lucid dream?

He had heard of such dreams, where people claimed they could fully control every aspect, in whatever way they wished. But, he had always been sceptical of such claims, having never experienced it first hand. Yet, here he was, clearly thinking, just like he would awake. Purely for the sake of experimentation, he was about to try imagining some attractive women appearing out of thin air, but just as he focused his thoughts on the pretty face of Amanda, a recent addition to the HR department at work, he was interrupted by a voice.

"Greetings, Human."

Henry spun around, letting out a yelp of surprise as he did so. He eyes found the source of the voice immediately.

Woah!

Before him, sitting on a throne comprised entirely of long thin spikes, sat a large humanoid like individual. He, and Henry assumed it was a he due to the immense musculature the 'man' possessed, was adorned in what looked like tight fitting plate armour, sans helm. Like the throne he sat upon, the armour too was covered in spikes. As Henry looked over the imposing figure before him, he saw that some of the spikes from the throne appeared to be piercing into his body, and were covered in blood.

What is with this blood obsession? Oh God, don't tell me my body has been savagely maimed in some kind of horrific train accident and this is some twisted hallucination trying to match up with that traumatic reality!

Henry was snapped out of his fatalistic panic, by the voice of the throned figure.

"Human, what is wrong with you!?" roared the figure.

There was clearly no concern for Henry’s health in the figure’s voice, only annoyance.

"How should I know!?" he shouted back, still fearing for his real world body.

After a lengthy pause, the figure continued.

"Human, I have brought you here to offer you a deal. A once in a paltry human lifetime kind of deal."

The figure’s voice was really quite ominous. It was deep, raspy, much too loud, and seemed to reverberate a great deal, despite the open environment they appeared to be in.

Experiencing immense confusion and concern for his own safety, Henry unleashed a barrage of questions directed towards the mysterious spike encased figure.

"A deal!? Who the hell are you!? Where the hell am I??"

Now that conversation had started proper, Henry had been forced to look directly at the face of the being he was conversing with. He quickly wished he hadn't. Truly the throne-mounted figure had a terrifying visage. Demonic, would be the word he chose to describe it, not that he believed in such things. The figure had several large horns protruding from his skull, thick and black, twisting upwards seemingly at random. His skin was pallid, his eyes dark, his teeth blackened and sharp. Blood was continuously leaking from his eyes, trickling down his face, partially coating his teeth, and covering the exposed parts of his neck in a deep dark red. After a brief silence, the figure replied.

“Very well. I suppose I can fill in a few gaps your abysmal intellect has no chance of filling. You may refer to me as Lord Gyxr. As for your tragically mortal coil, it is currently in a state of rest, unharmed. This place, that you find yourself in, is my domain. I have brought your sleeping mind here. It may seem like a dream to a short-sighted imbecile such as yourself, yet, this place is very real I assure you. Don’t strain yourself overmuch trying to understand, just listen to my deal and give me your answer.”

Henry had calmed down somewhat, deciding that it was probably unlikely he would be having such a vivid dream if he was indeed horrifically wounded and bleeding to death. Instead, he started to appreciate the absurdness of the experience.

My subconscious mind has gotten awfully creative all of a sudden. This is a far more interesting dream than I usually get. Now, how about those attractive ladies?

Henry eagerly glanced from side to side.

It was too much to hope for I suppose… Well, as I’m here I may as well try and have some fun with it.

"A deal you say? As it happens, I am not in the habit of accepting deals from blood drenched strangers, especially ones as sinister looking as yourself," he retorted with a smirk.

The throned figure was silent and completely unmoving, yet, Henry felt a sudden chill. Despite his inaction, the figure seemed to be steadily becoming more threatening.

What is with this guy? He hasn’t even moved once during our entire conversation. He doesn’t even move his mouth when he talks. And what’s up with those bleeding eyes, that is nasty!

Henry started shivering.

It’s just the cold. I am definitely not actually terrified of some imaginary guy sitting on a pointy chair.

"Listen, you spineless worm," the figure boomed out, even more loudly than before, "I have brought you here to offer you power the likes of which your worthless world has never seen! Now stop your mewling and listen to what I have to say, before I lose my patience and splatter your vapid brain across..."

Before the figure could finish, Henry awoke with a start, as a sudden, immense pain emanated from his face. The source of his discomfort was immediately apparent, a large man, both tall and wide, was sitting on top of him. The man seemed to have just come from a cosplay convention, judging by his strange clothing. He had fallen as the train lurched, managing to fall directly on top of Henry, and catch him in the eye with something sharp. Henry was eyeing the man’s skull adorned belt buckle as the likely culprit.

"Whoops, sorry about that buddy. The handle broke," the large man said, pointing up at the broken handle he had been using to keep himself steady as the train moved.

By the time the man had managed to get off of Henry and finish his apology, Henry felt a trickle of blood running down his face. As he dabbed at this fresh wound, with a tissue from his pocket, he started at the man. His name was Mike, at least according to the name tag he now noticed on the man’s breast.

Henry was feeling a strong urge to berate the lumbering fool for his poor balance. However, he reluctantly decided that such an action would be ultimately pointless.

"Please be more careful next time," he instead said.

The train eventually reached the station. The rest of the day was uneventful. Just another day at work. Henry soon forgot about the weird dream he had experienced that morning. It wasn't until another week had gone by that anything else out of the ordinary occurred.