It had been three nights now. Three long, agonizing nights since the nightmares began. Klaus sat up in bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. His body ached from exhaustion, but his mind was too restless to allow him peace. Sleep had become a battleground—his dreams, no longer just the whimsical illusions of the unconscious mind, had turned into something much darker.
They felt more like memories.
Each night, the same horrifying scenes played out: seas of blood, crumbling cities, and the haunting pleas of people he didn't know but somehow felt responsible for. Faces that blurred together in fear, eyes wide with terror, hands reaching out in desperation. The woman—always that woman, kneeling at his feet, her tear-streaked face begging for mercy.
"Please... spare me."
