Life is but a dream. Once two sons were born to Nyx, goddess of night and Hypnos, god of sleep. The eldest was Morpheus who lived in the visions of dreamers rising to his calling meant someone must abandon all other paths for the prospect of greatness. Thus heroes and kings called Morpheus "the Destiny Bringer;" to accept his gift required impossible risk and loneliness in the midst of adoration. But to deny him: madness.
Then there was Phobetor whom they called "the Dread Crawler" for he dwelled only in nightmares and fed on the acrid fumes of human fear. A shapeshifter, he appeared as the manifestation of terror forcing a choice between the path of uncertainty and the path of mediocrity. To meet Phobetor's gaze required great courage; to look away: shame. Only in the grey hour, in the moments of shadow and light will the balance of power dangle between the Destiny Bringer's favour and the Dread Crawler's wrath. Only there between waking and sleep will we recognize our true path.