"Doctor!" Technor cried out.
"Eh, what?!" Doofenshmirtz declared, whirling around and spilling popcorn everywhere. "Technor?! Who's that guy?"
"Hello!" Dreamfinder chuckled.
"How did you get in here? Wait, how did I get in here?! Wait that wait, where's 'in here'?!?"
Doofenshmirtz seems ready to continue his tirade of questions but Dreamfinder holds his hands up placatingly. "I am the Dreamfinder. But you might know me better as Blarion Mercurial, head of the Imagination Institute."
"Oh! You're the guy who wanted to look at my noodle."
"Yes, that's right. Or to be more accurate, to allow you to look at your own noodle. I will admit, I was rather surprised that this was the option you chose to leap upon when I first proposed a collaboration, but I am never one to turn down a Journey Into Imagination. I have always found that examining one's thoughts can only lead to greater enlightenment."
"Wait a minute, how am I going to look at myself? If I need to be conscious about my thoughts to look at my conscious thoughts, then how-" Doofenshmirtz cut himself off. "Oh right. Magic, probably. Right?"
"I find that answer unsatisfying!" Technor not-quite-declared.
Dreamfinder chuckled. "Oh no no, no magic at all. You see, what we call 'Me' is far more complex than a single internal voice. You contain multitudes, Dr. Doofenshmirtz."
"Oh, so that explains all the voices in my head!"
"Exactly!" Dreamfinder enthusiastically agreed. "Well. I suppose it could be schizophrenia, but your friend Technor did not mention such a diagnosis."
"That is not what is wrong with him." Technor confirmed.
"Every part of your mind is alive with imagination. Constructs, ideas, flights of fancy; and many of them can be more independent than we realize. Or, I suppose it's more accurate to say, one can anthropomorphize them as such. We've just 'awoken' your conscious mind into a sort of lucid dream, but the rest of your mental architecture continues undisturbed! I know you've technically already given your permission for this, but Mr. Technor expressed concerns once he learned the full details of the procedure. With that in mind, do you still want to proceed? I must warn you, we will be viewing your undiluted subconscious mind. It is frequently a place of uncomfortable truths or thoughts one would prefer kept secret."
"What, all my traumatic backstories and junk? I already tell everyone! In fact, it's mandatory to follow my backstory account on Doofnet! Well, I guess it's 'The Grid' now, nobody's on Doofnet anymore. Except Monogram. And Monogram's Intern… and Monogram's Intern's mother. You know she crochets? She has this lovely double stitch pattern-"
"I fear this may be getting off the subject." Technor interrupted when Dreamfinder showed absolutely no signs of doing so.
"Oh right, anyway. Traumatic secrets, no problem! Totally fine. Just ehh, don't get too excited. I'm a brilliant evil scientist, of course, but my mind's not that special."
"On the contrary!" Dreamfinder proclaimed. "I have only been here a short time, but this has already proven one of the most fascinating Mindscapes I've encountered in many years!"
"Really? And what other mindscapes have you encountered?"
"Oh, it's something of my profession! When not employed in my 'official' duties, I spend my time trawling the mental landscape, searching for new ideas and experiences! Comparing the mental architecture of Zootopians to see how they do and do not line up with common animal beliefs was a fascinating experience, and though I've not yet had the opportunity to work with many Toons, every single one has been a unique delight."
Doofenshmirtz blinked, tempo lost. "Wow. I was expecting you to say something like 'Jerry Lewis' head sure was filled with a lot of mahogany doors', or something."
"I'm sorry, whom?"
"You know, Jerry Lewis? Actor, comedian, singer, that one snot-colored noodle guy is obsessed with him, he worked with Dean Martin…"
Dreamfinder blinked once or twice. "Did he work with Chaplin? I was lucky enough to see the lad in person, you know."
"Uhhhhh…."
"Oh nevermind, nevermind, dream light's a burning! Let's get to it, shall we?"
"Leaving so soon?"
The three dreamers turned to see a bipedal zebra, black and white stripes contrasting in the darkness, munching on popcorn.
"Oh." Dreamfinder said cooly. "It's you."
"You know each other?" Technor asked, completely confused.
"We've met." Dreamfinder replied bluntly.
"Oh come now. All I ever do is help." The zebra said in an oily voice.
"Your help is never comprehensible until it is far too late."
"The Masons will be a significant danger to you, unless you can engender trust." the zebra replied lazily. "Only one can."
"See what I mean?" Dreamfinder grumbled irritably.
"Should I be writing this down?" Doofenshmirtz asked.
"You may, I suppose. Just don't expect it to be useful." Dreamfinder replied.
The zebra huffed. "I don't have to give them hints you know. I could just be completely incomprehensible like I am with Kevin. You know I should check on her. She knows how to be properly confused."
The zebra rose to its feet and trotted off, affronted.
"Does that sort of thing happen often?" Technor asked.
"More than I'd care to admit." Dreamfinder replied.
===
"Wow." Doofenshmirtz commented as he stepped out of the Dream Theater and into the light of the glowing purple tower. "This place is a mess! I mean, I know I'm scatterbrained sometimes, and my desk might not be the cleanest- I… I should really tidy it up after I wake up- but come on, does that really translate to my mental constructs too? Look at that building!" He pointed at a lopsided, misshapen two-story house with a thatched roof and vague Bavarian overtones, one of countless others that made up his memory archives. "That didn't make any sense in Drusselstein, and it doesn't make any sense here! Why does that one look so poorly drawn?!?"
Dreamfinder shrugged. "Ah well, it is a bit convoluted. But I have found such minds to be the sign of great creativity!" Dreamfinder replies.
"It's got to be impossible to get around this place, right? Did you get lost on the way in or something?"
"We did have a little difficulty, yes. I must advise that you stay close to the Memory Dump, so long as you don't fall in. Entering the back passages of the Stacks could prove very hard to navigate."
"So what you're saying is that the convolution of my mind makes it hard to navigate? That sounds like a good thing! It should mean that my 'mindscape' is basically impenetrable!"
"Oh, no no. It might be very difficult to find a specific memory, but the surface level of your mind is an open book. Even a determined novice could probably force their way into-"
"Impenetrable…" Doofenshmirtz repeated reverently, a satisfied grin on his face.
"That's… not quite what I…" Dreamfinder began, but Technor put a hand on his shoulder. A moment later Doofenshmirtz gangled forwards, entranced by a new curiosity. A large chunk of rock, seemingly floating, rose up in the near distance. Seemingly unsupported, it was connected only by a beam of light to the central tower.
"What's that?" Doofenshmirtz asked.
"That is a personality island! It is a manifestation of some Core aspect of your personality, a fundamental pillar of who you are and what you value."
Doofenshmirtz peered out over the void, eyes squinting as he took a closer look. "Sooooo… it looks like I value giant creepy shadow statues? I mean, I guess they are cool, they really get the whole 'evil dictator' schtick across, buuuut…"
As the trio passed by the island, it loomed. Doofenshmirtz was right, the island was dominated by gigantic shadows, each a faceless and disapproving void. The world grew faded and heavy, somehow claustrophobic despite the open ground. Slowly, the sounds of the island reached them as gentle whispers. But as they grew closer, the sounds grew in volume until the island screamed at them across the empty shore.
"Das kind ist ein Schnitzel!"
"I feel nothing. Nothing!"
"Kick the ball, Heinz!"
"Ich habe keinen Sohn."
"Heinz, this is just… sad."
"...Oh." Dreamfinder said.
Even Technor, who had been expecting something like this, seemed uncertain of what to say as Doofenshmirtz stared at the island for a long moment.
"What, this?" Doofenshmirtz finally scoffed. "This is just… uh… a metaphorical representation of all the times I've been forced to feel inadequate? And that's a facet of my personality?!" Doofenshmirtz asked, appearing incredibly offended by the notion. "Pffft. Big deal!"
"Doctor…" Technor began, but Doofenshmirtz seized on the moment before he could continue.
"What, you think I don't know about my own inadequacies?! Sure I do! They play on repeat in my head, every day! Whose doesn't?!"
Dreamfinder took his hat off.
"It's not a big deal! I'm at peace with it! Look how peaceful I am!" He screeched.
Then something else screeched. This time, however, it happened to be loud enough to shake the foundations of houses. The sound shattered shutters and forced everyone to clap hands over their ears. In its wake, the shadowy figures fell silent.
"...what was that?" Technor asked slowly.
Dreamfinder frowned. "Not all mental constructs are friendly, unfortunately. We should take care."
"…let's keep going." Doofenshmirtz said, seizing on the moment. "What's the next one?"
It took a few minutes to hike before the next island came into view. This island was… difficult to describe. It was directly connected to the mainland by a bridge covered in ramshackle Drusselstinian construction, the houses of which sprawled out onto part of the island. They rapidly faded from view, however, because piled atop them was the most eclectic and indescribable hodge-podge of objects imaginable. Bushels of doonkelberries were strewn with fedoras. Big black boots stood covered by top hats, stomping on dunes of sand and baking soda piled up as gigantic cockroaches crawled about them. Assortments of pink and purple dresses, teddy bears, old-fashioned bathing suits, and rollerskates sat in haphazard piles. Discarded bratwurst carts and defunct claw machines waited among the kickballs, thousands of lawn gnomes, stacks of toilets, and inexplicably large piles of raw pork. A massive nine-sailed ship towered over the pile, floating in the air and continually spilling more objects out onto the island.
"Oh! Oh, I know this one! This is Backstory Island! That's the boat my parents tricked me onto, even. I'd recognize the smell anywhere. Don't worry, I can talk about this one all day. No terribly crippling fear of inadequacy here! Just a whole bunch of normal evil trauma, like any mad scientist would have."
"...Right." Dreamfinder said, after a moment.
"Hey, what's that big beam of light?" Doofenshmirtz asked, pointing at a beam of light purple energy pulsing along the island. It seemed to begin as a series of thin, almost filament-like beams of energy, each and every one of which emanated from an object in the precarious pile or a doorknob in the Drusselstinian district. They were then collected by a series of burnished mirrors, each of which redirected the energy into ever larger lights until a single, massive beam the width of redwood shot out of the largest mirror of all and towards the frozen tower Dreamfinder had called 'Headquarters'.
"How peculiar! Normally the Core Memory of Headquarters generates the personality island, but the flow on this island is reversed! All of these… 'backstories' seem to combine into a single… er…"
"Ur-Backstory!" Doofenshmirtz insisted.
"Ur… very well." Dreamfinder replied. "And that Ur-Backstory is then beamed to Headquarters where, I assume, it acts as a sort of Core Memory replacement."
Indeed, the light of the laser was aimed directly at the tower, and seemed to be melting through the ice.
"I imagine you may wake up once that beam has finished its work. Perhaps a metaphor for your own motivational drive?" Dreamfinder posited.
"About how long will it take? It would be helpful to know when the Doctor will return." Technor asked.
"Probably two months." Doofenshmirtz replied.
"What makes you say that?"
"It's usually two months."
"Ah." Technor said. "So, wait. I recognize a few of these, the boots of Big Black Boots Boris, the kickball your mother's love was inexplicably linked to… but…"
"Yes?" Doofenshmirtz replied.
"What is the significance of the giant floating baby head then?" Technor asked, pointing at the man-sized rotating cranium.
"Uhhh…" Doofenshmirtz trailed off.
"Oh no no, that's normal." Dreamfinder explained as the head floated off, cooing.
