The headache struck like a hammer to the skull, suffocating her thoughts until her mind wasn’t fully hers.

One moment, she was laughing with Sapnap, George, and Punz. The next, her breath hitched, and her skull felt like it had been split open from the inside out.

Sapnap grinned. “Man, this is rough. Should we be supportive friends and tell her she’s screwed, or let her figure it out the hard way?”

George sighed, shaking his head. “She really thought moving would fix it. Thought if she ran fast enough, she’d finally be something other than someone’s tool. But, I mean… you never really escaped anything, did you?”

Punz exhaled. “Should’ve just believed everyone.”

She scoffed, her voice sharp as steel. “And what, kiss the ground Dream walks on? Bow my head and thank you all for the betrayal? No. You might think you’ve won—might think you hold all the strings—but I gave you a chance, I don't give second chances. You want to see what I do to enemies? I'll show you soon enough.*”

Sapnap laughed, shaking his head. “Bold words for someone drowning.”

George sighed. “You talk like you have power, but look at you. You don’t even know where you end and he begins.”

"You thought freedom meant escape," Dream murmured, settling deeper. "But you were always right here, waiting to be taken back."

She barked out a laugh, dry and bitter. “Then take me, coward.”

Then everything blurred.

Cold walls. The scent of blood. A memory—too sharp, too real.

"Funny, isn’t it?" Dream mused. "You were already trained for this before you ever met me."

Her fingers twitched. She knew this grip.

"You did everything they told you to."

Voices rose—she knew them. She knew who owned her.

Then something shifted.

The voices blurred.

She couldn’t tell where Dream ended and they began.

"You never had a choice."

"Why are you still fighting?"

"Do you remember what happened when you fought back before?"

Her breath hitched.

Dream’s words bled into theirs, twisting together, melting into one—a single command, a single authority, a single power she was meant to obey.

Her hands trembled.

"You were someone’s weapon long before you were mine."

Her chest tightened.

She grinned, teeth bared, vicious. “And yet, here I am. Fighting anyway.”

Her body shook, her breath ragged, the walls closing in—but then, just for a second, she pushed back.

A crack in the grip on her mind.

An opening.

She latched onto it.

She inhaled sharply, forced herself through the pain—and she teleported.

But Dream didn’t fade.

"You’re running again?" His voice wasn’t strained, wasn’t annoyed. "You always run, don’t you?"

Her stomach lurched.

"That’s fine." He sounded too calm—like this was a game he was winning no matter how hard she fought. "You’ll come back. I always get what belongs to me."

She spat onto the ground like the thought of him alone soured the air. “You can choke on that belief.”

Away from the memory.

Away from him.

Away from whatever he was trying to make her believe.

But not far enough.

Never far enough.