The princess trembled in the grip of the nightmare, her body locked in place as grotesque green skeletal eyes bored into her soul. Shadows clawed at her mind, replaying every failure, every moment of weakness that had cost lives—especially the one that haunted her most. But something inside her snapped. A surge of power flooded her veins, raw and unyielding, as her hero bloodline ignited in defiance.
Her mental resistance skyrocketed. With a silent roar of will, she shattered the illusion like glass beneath a hammer. The nightmare fractured around her, fragments dissolving into nothingness.
She blinked, drawing a sharp breath, and looked back at the screen that had held her captive moments ago. It was now pitch black, empty and lifeless. Her eyes narrowed into slits. "This is not the past week me," she whispered, voice laced with steel.
