Sleep is supposed to be where you're safest from the world, from yourself, and from the things that watch.
For years, Elias has lived with sleep paralysis: waking in the dark, unable to move, certain of a presence sitting on his chest. He knows the clinical explanations. He's memorized the diagrams. He has learned to call the terror a glitch in his brain.
Then the episodes follow him into daylight.
Words appear in his handwriting that he doesn't remember writing. Moments of time go missing and come back filled with actions that fit his habits but not his will. A whispering attention presses against his thoughts, calling itself Somnolux, a shape in the dream field that has learned his grammar and wants more than his fear.
As the line between sleep and waking frays, nightmares begin to edit reality at the edges. Elias finds himself walking an impossible corridor of his own altered memories, negotiating rules with something that should not be able to listen. A sleep study turns into a cosmic experiment, and every choice he makes, every "no" he manages to say, may be the only thing keeping his identity from becoming shared property.
For fans of cosmic horror, psychological dread, and reality-bending dreamscapes, Somnolux is a haunting tale of sleep paralysis, invasive dreams, and the terrifying question at the heart of consciousness:
If something else learns how to wear you, how much of you can you lose and still be yourself?