After a brief sensation of weightlessness, Schiller first saw a wash of brilliant white light. When the soft glow before his eyes faded, he found himself in an almost entirely white room.
But something was clearly wrong with it. The room was probably two or three hundred square meters in size, and there was a crib every half meter or so.
Everything in the room was white: the walls were white, the floor was white, the cribs were white, even the fabric lining the cribs was pure white.
Entering the deeper layers of a dream doesn't actually require many jumps. In Injustice Superman's case, it only took two or three. Schiller thought. This is the third dream they've entered. They're probably already close to the deep layer.
The abnormalities were the best proof—the order constructed by the conscious mind had begun to collapse, and chaos and strangeness followed in its wake.
Schiller stood still, silently observing the cribs filling the room.
Even chaotic dreams left traces to follow. They were nothing more than fragments of memory pieced together. That meant that, at some point, a crib in some room had left a deep impression on Hal.
Suddenly, there was movement at the door.
Schiller looked around but saw neither Injustice Superman nor Injustice Batman. He guessed they had been thrown into other rooms, but he did not dare assume that whoever entered would be his teammate.
Fortunately, though the room was large, it had four load-bearing pillars. Schiller hurried behind one of them in a few quick strides.
A head half the height of a person poked in through the doorway, its long hair hanging loose as it muttered to itself.
Then half its body followed. Strangely, the monster had an enormous head and a long neck, but a tiny