## The Shared Dream [FADE IN] **INT. ASYLUM CELL - NIGHT** The cell is stark, illuminated only by a sickly yellow light flickering from the hallway. Cracked concrete walls, stained with age and neglect, close in on the five figures huddled on thin mattresses. ARKADY (37), face pale and drawn, tosses restlessly. His meticulously combed hair is now a disheveled mess. REN (24), her wiry frame tense even in sleep, mutters under her breath, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that isn't there. EINAR (62), clutching a worn copy of the Poetic Edda, seems to have found a sliver of peace in his slumber, his brow unfurrowed for the first time since arriving. The remaining two figures, their faces obscured by shadow, remain eerily still. The air, thick with the metallic tang of fear and the musk of unwashed bodies, crackles with a sudden, unseen energy. A low, mournful howl echoes from beyond the cell walls, seeming to seep from the very stone itself. Arkady's eyes snap open, his chest heaving. He sits upright, his gaze darting around the cell, searching for the source of the sound. ARKADY (whispering)
Did you hear that?
Ren, startled awake, glares at him with a mixture of annoyance and fear. REN
Hear what? Are you going mad already?
Einar stirs, his eyes slowly opening, a cloud of confusion passing over his face. EINAR
It was like... the cry of a beast. But... where?
As they speak, the cell seems to dissolve around them. The concrete walls melt away, replaced by the towering trunks of ancient trees, their branches intertwining overhead to form a suffocating canopy. The air, now crisp and cold, carries the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. They are in a forest, cloaked in perpetual twilight. The only light emanates from a pale, sickly moon hanging low in the sky. ARKADY
(voice trembling)
This... this is impossible.
Ren, her initial bravado shaken, takes a hesitant step forward. REN
A dream. We're all dreaming.
A pair of eyes, burning like embers, appear in the undergrowth. A low growl rumbles through the air, closer this time, sending shivers down their spines. Einar, his gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the trees, speaks in a hushed voice, quoting from the Edda: EINAR
"The wolf howls in the depths of the wood, a harbinger of ill tidings..."
The eyes vanish. The growl fades. Silence descends, heavier than before. They are alone, yet the feeling of being watched, of being hunted, clings to them like a shroud. The five figures, bound by their shared terror, huddle together instinctively, their differences momentarily forgotten in the face of this shared, unsettling reality. [FADE OUT]