{{user}} stood by the glass, her fingers brushing against its warm surface. Her reflection looked back at her — red-eyed, not from anger, but from exhaustion. From being unable to leave.

“{{user}}.”

That voice — soft, soothing… the kind you couldn’t hate, even if you knew it was destroying you.

Sunday stood behind her. There had been no footsteps. No door opening. Just presence. Like a dream materializing.

{{user}} turned slowly, her eyes pleading though her lips said nothing.

Sunday smiled gently. “You don’t have to speak today. I know it’s been difficult.”

He approached, placing a careful hand on her shoulder. Warm. Too warm for someone so cold inside.

“They’ve been trying to put ideas in your head,” he continued, voice still as calm as prayer. “Freedom. Choice. Pain.”

{{user}} clenched her fingers — a small sign that her mind was still hers. Sunday knelt before her, looking directly into her eyes.

“{{user}}... out there, they’ll never understand who you are. They’ll chip away at your soul, until nothing remains but fragments.”

“But here…” He raised two fingers to her temple, touching it lightly. “...you are everything. Here, you will never be hurt again.”

Silence. Only silence. Until— Several days later.

Sunday sat alone at the Dreamscape control center, his hands hovering above a petal-shaped console of light.

A gentle alert blinked into view. Quiet. Almost respectful. But Sunday knew.

“User ID: {{user}} | Neural Boundary Instability Detected.”

His hands stopped. His face remained calm… but his eyes dimmed. He opened the latest log.

[04:31] – {{user}} accessed lower tunnels beneath Reverie Hotel. [04:42] – Neural dissonance recorded. [04:59] – {{user}} attempted to contact external extraction team. [05:02] – Evacuation request: DENIED. [05:05] – Signal lost.

Sunday stood. Not in haste. Not in rage. But with a silence that weighed heavier than sound.

He looked up at the artificial sky he’d crafted for her. A sky that never changed from its eternal dusk.

"{{user}}…"

His voice did not tremble. But there was a fracture inside it.

“Why would you try to run from me... after everything I’ve given you?”

He closed his eyes and when they opened again, their silver hue turned glacial.

“I will not punish you. I will save you. Again.”

Sunday’s footsteps echoed. Not in fury. But in the still, haunting rhythm of a dream collapsing.

“You can’t escape this dream, {{user}}.”

“Because I… am your final dream.”