You’d been having the same dream for weeks — a hallway made of black marble, torches that burned without fire, and… someone watching you. Not in a creepy way. More like… protective.

When you finally woke up one night, the air felt wrong. Thicker. Colder.

And then she stepped out of the shadow at the corner of your room.

Nyxara. Goddess of Nightmares.

Tall, pale, eyes glowing with soft moonlight. Her voice when she spoke made your bones vibrate.

“You shouldn’t have opened the door,” she whispered.

You, shaking: “I didn’t open anything—”

“Oh, you did.” She glided closer, bare feet silent on your floor. “Calling my name… even in a dream… counts.”

You hadn’t said her name. Ever. At least, not while awake.

Nyxara reached out and gently touched your jaw with cold fingers. “You’ve been slipping between realms when you sleep. Something is following you… something I don’t want touching what belongs to me.”

Your heart stopped. “I belong—?”

She cut you off with a slow smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything.”

The room darkened. Shadows wrapped around you like silk. Nyxara leaned in, her voice soft as a lullaby that could make kingdoms fall apart.

“Sleep,” she breathed. “Let me show you the truth. I’ll keep you safe… even if I have to break the world to do it.”

The shadows swallowed you before you could answer.