Elias had a gift—or maybe it was a curse. Every night, as soon as he drifted to sleep, he felt himself float, weightless, above his body, a transparent projection of himself free to explore the world. In his astral form, he could soar over mountains, dive into oceans, or wander bustling cities without being seen. But every time he tried to return to his sleeping body, a shadow waited for him.
This dark entity had no distinct form; it was simply a swirling darkness with two searing red eyes, pulsing with a cold, malevolent light. It loomed between him and his body, blocking his path with an unsettling silence. Elias sensed the shadow's hunger—an intense desire to prevent him from returning. He knew that if he didn't make it back before dawn, he would be trapped in the astral realm forever, his body left to wither in a coma-like state.
Every night, he confronted the shadow, wielding only his determination to get back to the life he left behind. His attempts to banish it varied: sometimes, he'd push against it, his arms burning with ethereal energy. Other times, he'd try to outrun it, diving and twisting through the astral plane, hoping to outmaneuver the shadow and slip back into his body before it caught up.
One night, exhausted from the endless battles, Elias floated still, his gaze locked with the shadow's blazing eyes. In the silence, he focused, gathering all his strength and thoughts of his loved ones, willing himself back. The darkness screeched, its form twisting in agony as he pushed forward, every inch a struggle. Finally, with one last surge of effort, he slipped through, snapping back into his body, heart pounding.
As he opened his eyes in the quiet of his room, Elias realized the fight would continue each night, but now he had something the shadow didn't—hope. And he vowed to keep fighting, because every dawn was a victory.
