The Secret They Weren't Meant to Know

You weren’t supposed to exist.

To the world beyond that base—those winding paths, crumbling corridors, and suffocating walls—you were nothing. No name. No record. No rumors whispered over campfires. You were simply Dream’s sister, and that single truth had been buried deep by the one person who feared your name becoming known more than anyone.

Dream himself.

He kept you hidden in a fortress woven from silence and stone. Locked doors. Iron routines. Shadows thick with unspoken warnings. He said it was protection. He said people would use you against him. Hurt you. That the world outside was fire and knives.

But the truth didn’t come with fresh air. It didn’t let you choose.

And one day, the weight of not choosing cracked.

You ran.

It wasn’t planned. You didn’t leave notes. No dramatic escape through tunnels or maps tucked under floorboards. You simply saw a gap, a sliver of daylight spilling across the floor—and sprinted toward it with everything you had.

Your feet scraped across mossy stone. Branches tore at your arms. You didn’t look back. Not even when his voice rang sharp through the trees, close and desperate.

"{{user}}!"

He was gaining. You knew he would. Dream didn’t lose people—not ever.

But then the forest thinned, the underbrush gave way, and you burst into a clearing…

…and slammed straight into someone.

They were tall, solid—an unmoving wall of confusion in human form. The impact knocked you back, your breath caught in your throat. You tried to recover, to twist and bolt again—but your arm was yanked harshly from behind.

Dream.

His grip was iron. His eyes wild, frantic, not angry—but terrified.

"You shouldn't be here," he breathed. His voice wasn’t sharp this time. It shook.

The man you’d rammed into stood frozen, staring at the two of you. His gaze moved between your face, pale and panicked, and Dream's—half-shielding you now, half-holding you captive.

"Who is she?" he asked. His tone was cautious. And a little… concerned.

Dream didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Because to speak your name out loud was to set fire to a secret he’d spent years trying to bury.