World Refugees Never Ending

It is impossible to know how long the Dreaming lasted, but it did come to an end. It was, after all, intended only as a means of repairing the wounds which had festered too long in the fabric of space and time. All who wished to help were able, but it was slow going, days and nights indeterminate from each other. None worked harder than the Refugees, familiar as they were with so many worlds. It took care and precision to untwist the knots and tangles which had been left too long unattended, but they had at least one wise and patient guide. More, when the spirits of each world regained awareness and added their considerable power to the effort.

When it was over, the last spawn of Lavos locked away in darkness and the last fallen world forged anew from scraps and memory, the dreamers awoke.

It was early morning in Radiant Garden, the sky overcast and turbulent. Waking was not a lazy and soothing event as one rising in their own bed. Rather, the Refugees and townsfolk found themselves scattered about the city, standing as if they had just been about their business and had only forgotten where they were for a moment. Memory of the Dreaming varies from person to person, stronger for the most part in those who put more effort into the repairs. Even for those who recall every moment, it is the memory of a dream, disjointed and easily lost. For many, there is little or no recollection at all.

It is strikingly evident, however, that the city is brighter and more at peace than it has been in a long, long while. It will also become evident, to those who act on curiosity about the other worlds, that the barriers are back in place and impenetrable by ship or corridor. Even the network is blocked from the rest of the universe, allowing access only to the community and the journals of those present.

The Refugees are stranded on Radiant Garden.