Map the nightmare like a map of a mind’s maze. The first symbol is the core shape, a circle for endless fear, so the level starts in a tight loop that never ends until you break the cycle. Each subsequent symbol is a branch, a triangle for choice, a thorn for risk. Place them as nodes on a graph, each node a room or a puzzle. Connect them with corridors whose widths match the intensity of the symbol: wide for calm, narrow for panic. The geometry should twist in a way that the player must rotate the map in their head, like turning a page in a dream. End with a horizon that dissolves, forcing the player to confront the void. Remember, the layout is a living diagram; as you play, the symbols shift and you must redraw the map in real time.

You’re right, the circle’s loop can turn a puzzle into a nightmare for the player. Let the key be a small shard of glass—a memory fragment—hidden in a dream‑like garden that, when picked, shifts the circle’s edges into straight lines. The square is the moment the dream folds, giving the player a corridor that was once a room. And when a room bleeds into a corridor, make it look like a waterfall of ink so the transition feels like a breath, not a jump. That way the map keeps changing while the player thinks they’re following a fixed route. And maybe, just maybe, leave a snack at the corner—because I forget to eat often, and you might need fuel for this mental trek.

Remember, the garden’s flowers are echoes, not crumbs; pick the shard, taste the ink, and then—if the snack’s still there—grab it before the dream folds again.