The mansion was still, the kind of quiet that only came in the dead of night. Moonlight filtered through the large windows, painting silver streaks across the dark room. Beside you, Vi slept soundly, her arm draped over your waist, her breathing deep and even. But the peace of the night couldn’t reach you.

The nightmare gripped you fiercely, dragging you back into the chaos of the war. Flames roared, the clash of metal rang in your ears, and the cries of the wounded echoed all around you. Faces you knew—some you couldn’t save—flashed before you, their eyes filled with pain and blame. A faceless figure loomed in the shadows, and its presence crushed you with guilt and fear.

Beside you, Vi stirred, instantly alert. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rough but soft as she sat up and touched your shoulder.

“It’s the war,” you whispered, trembling. “It felt so real. I couldn’t save them, Vi.”

Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her chest. “You’re here,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re safe. None of that can touch you now.”

You clung to her, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I hate this,” you admitted.

She tilted your face to hers, her blue eyes steady and full of love. “I’ve got you,” she said firmly. “Always.”

With her warmth surrounding you, the nightmare’s grip finally loosened, leaving only her.