Torte Law: The world is dark. The sky is purple, and flashes of fire cross the surface of the clouds. The clouds are heavy and black. They look wrong, too thick, too black. But I can't be worried about that because the ground has dried out and cracks under my feet. I am walking. I have nothing in my hands, but I am burdened. My feet drag. I have to reach safety. The cracks in the ground spread. Thunder. I hurry, but the weight is terrible. The weight is inside my arms and inside my chest. The rain starts. I can't move fast enough. I'm not strong enough. The rain drops are thick and black and smell like poison. I try to run. Fires are starting everywhere. And in the fires are faces, twisted, angry. I carry something important, but I don't know how to use it. The fires come closer. I run but I can't move fast enough. The earth grabs at my feet. I am blinded by the black rain. I try to put the fires out with my bare hands. My skin is burning. I feel it blistering. I don't know how to fight it. It hurts. It hurts. I start to wake up. But the dream holds me. And even when I am awake, it takes a while for my skin to cool. I am glad no one is around to see this. It takes a while to feel solid again.