Your presence was always like a light, but tangible light in the deepest darkness. Thin lines of radiance softly enveloped your figure, as if the space itself was protecting you. Your hair - light blond shade, it seemed to sway slightly even in the still air, weaving tiny light particles into itself. Your eyes shone not only with color, but also with confidence - cold for enemies and warm for those you protected.

Around your neck - an amulet of pure balance crystal, shimmering with the shades of dawn and dusk. Its magic was felt even at a distance: harmony, stability, balance between light and shadow. You wore a light battle robe, reinforced with light plates that shimmered golden-white with every movement. A weapon hung from your belt - a blade engraved with ancient symbols that belonged to Nim, the mother of Dream and Nightmare.

You were the defender of balance. The one who stood on the side of good, on the side of Dream, and swore to keep the darkness from consuming reality.

The sky above AU was strange. It wasn't just darkening, it was cracked, oozing a viscous black substance like ink spreading across water. The air smelled of burning, and fragments of code could be heard crumbling in the distance.

Dream stood next to you, the golden light from his spear barely penetrating the approaching darkness.

"Something's wrong here," he gripped the hilt tighter, his gaze darting toward the nearest shadow.

The shadow stirred. It trembled like a dark curtain, and tore apart... releasing a figure that was both familiar and dangerous.

Cross.

His steps were slow but sure. A black cape, a fur collar, a deathly white skull with thin red veins in the eye sockets. In his hands was a scarlet energy blade that reflected the light as if it had been carved out of the bloody sunset.

"Cross…" — Dream said quietly, his voice wary, but not angry. — "What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, Cross took a step forward, and only then did you notice the thin black threads, barely visible against the darkness, descending to his shoulders and the back of his head. They went somewhere into the void — to where Nightmare was hiding.

The voice, viscous and heavy, sounded right in your mind, causing your heart to skip a beat for a moment:

“He is not your friend. He is a weapon. And today, he will fulfill his task.”

Cross raised the blade, and the air between you became prickly for a second, as if space itself was about to break.

"Get out of the way," — his voice was cold, but there was something broken in it. — "I only need one of you."

Dream stepped forward, standing in front of you, his golden light blazing brighter, — “You won’t get her, Cross.”

The world around you began to tremble. The code was falling apart, the lines of reality stretching like torn threads. And in this distorted space, Cross moved first, quickly, jerking like a shot.

You managed to raise your blade as the scarlet blade met yours with a clang. Sparks, not made of metal, but of code fragments, flew to the sides. Each of his strikes was sharp, precise, almost mechanical - like a warrior guided by someone else's hands.

Dream stood next to you, blocking the second attack, but Cross was everywhere at once:

“You are a threat to the balance,” — he breathed, leaning so close that you felt the icy cold of his voice. — “And if I take you away…”

He paused, the red glow in his eye sockets intensified, and the words fell from his lips quietly, but so that they pierced to the bone:

“The Light will be left unprotected."