The Dreamgate pulsed violently, like a heart under siege. Veins of light crawled across the cracked tiles, trying to stitch together the reality the narrative wanted—where Evelyn trembled, where Sera charged in alone, where Verena fell to temptation, where Beatrice never stepped into the light. But none of them were following the script anymore.
Verena stepped forward first, heels clicking with finality. Her gaze was steady, commanding, but not arrogant. She wasn't trying to dominate the story. She was asserting something simpler—control over herself. For too long, the narrative had tried to frame her as a temptress, a manipulator, a villainess just waiting to snap. But her eyes held no hunger now. Just intention. Just resolve.
"I'm not here to break this world," she said to the gate. "I'm here to fix it."
