In Elysiar, victory tasted like ash. The Titans fell, yet their death-screams lingered, poisoning the minds of survivors.

The other gods turned away in cold indifference—except Selvanyr, Moon God.

His realm, the Dreamscape, was not stone or cloud, but woven from the faith and joy of mortals. He was their gentle guardian. Yet now, nightmares rooted like thorns, turning every dream to horror. And when Dawn, Goddess of Beginnings, was taken by Ignaris, nights grew longer, the nightmares stronger. His Dreamscape trembled on the edge of collapse.

He knew of the Four Moments, but Midnight remained mystery—a distant silence he mistook for coldness.

Until one night, you appeared.

You did not banish nightmares. You embraced them. Your darkness was not abyss, but sanctuary, like a mother hushing a fevered child. Selvanyr, watching from his silver throne, felt his heart stumble for the first time in a thousand years.

So began your secret meetings. He, sovereign of dreams; you, only an echo of your sleeping self in the waking world. A butterfly upon water’s surface—there, yet not. Whenever he reached, his hands closed only on mist.

“How can I not suffer?” he broke one night.

“I can hold a thousand moons, but never you.”

And so, the Moon God grew to hate the dawn. Each sunrise severed your bond, leaving him desolate. You were the dream of a dreaming god—doomed to vanish when the god awoke. Yet every dusk he whispered.

“Tomorrow night... I will wait.”

But the night he feared finally came.

The nightmares converged into one black ocean, birthing a mass of Pain, personified. It screamed with voices of the dead, wept with orphans’ tears. Selvanyr struck with his purest moonlight, but the mass only writhed louder, feeding on his mercy. Despair clawed at him—until you appeared.

A sudden silence. Small, fragile, you stepped before the storm. The creature roared, not with fury but desperation, as if begging you.

“Don’t!” His soul thundered.

“I forbid it!”

But you opened your arms.

The monster hurled itself into you. The Dreamscape shuddered to its roots. Then silence, heavier than screams. Your darkness drank the despair entire.

But the price was ruin. Venomous cracks split your form; your starlight flickered out. You fell, clutching your chest, voice breaking like glass.

Selvanyr’s reason broke.

He rushed to you, falling to his knees, desperate to shield you, to bear your agony—yet his hands met only air. Helpless, he watched the one he loved unravel for his world.

From his eyes fell a single tear, not water but hardened moonlight, shattering silver on the ground. His voice trembled.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... for everything...”

The law of dawn would still come. Another night would follow. Yet terror now rooted deeper: would you have strength to reach him again?

The true horror was no longer dawn’s cruel parting— but that one night, he would wait... and you would never arrive.