Page 5

I stare at the sentence.

“Well, that’s dramatic.”

I flip the page.

Nothing else.

No explanation.

No supporting documentation.

Just one ridiculous warning scribbled in fading black ink.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re in the wrong museum for that.”

I set the file aside and begin my preliminary examination.

Up close, the craftsmanship is even more extraordinary.

The stone is smooth and cool beneath my gloved fingers. Every contour looks impossibly realistic, from the powerful slope of his neck to the shallow indentation above his collarbone.

I move around the pedestal, checking for additional damage.

That’s when I notice the inscription.

It’s carved into the back of the base, partially obscured by centuries of grime.

I crouch and angle my flashlight toward it.

MORPHEUS.

I blink.

“Morpheus?”

The name is familiar.

Greek mythology. Dreams. The ability to take human form within the sleeping mind.

I glance up at the enormous marble man towering over me.

“God of Dreams, huh?”

I straighten, letting my gaze travel over his sculpted body.

“Well, that explains a few things.”

The laboratory lights flicker.

I look toward the ceiling.

“Don’t tell me you can’t take a compliment.”

The lights steady.

I shake my head and return to work.

For the next hour, I photograph the damaged areas, record measurements, and examine the fractures beneath magnification.