The familiar coldness seeped into Crostelia's bones, a growing vine of dread. She was there again, in the endless darkness of her recurring nightmare, a place where light struggled to exist. The deafening silence was broken only by the frantic pounding of her own heart. She wanted to scream, to wake, but her voice was trapped, and her body wouldn't obey.

Then, from the abyss, a pair of pure white eyes glowed. A high-pitched, joyful laugh, chillingly familiar from childhood, echoed, spurring her to run. She fled, not daring to look back, convinced the unseen horror was inches away. The darkness stretched on, a suffocating void. Suddenly, a heavy breath ghosted her ear, and a voice, like a child's tantrum, whispered, "Why are you always running away?"

The laughter swelled, distorted by a second, alien tone, before fading. A piercing shriek tore through the silence. "Why? Why can't you just accept it?" the voice shrieked, laced with impatience. "I am you and you are me! The plan must be started and stop rejecting me!" A blinding light erupted, revealing a woman who looked exactly like Crostelia, blood streaming from her eyes, hatred burning in her white pupils.

"CROSTELIA, wake up now!" Her grandmother's shout pierced the nightmare, dragging her back to the dim reality of her small bedroom. She blinked, yawned, and sighed. The dream again. But this time, the faceless creature had a face. Her face. And blood.