Dream, once known as Dominique, floated through the dreamscape, a realm where the boundaries of reality were fluid and ever-changing. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to the strange, ethereal world that he now inhabited. The necromancer's transformation had turned him into a powerful entity capable of invading and manipulating dreams, a gift he had learned to wield with increasing precision.
During the five years of the heroes' slumber, Dream had kept a close watch over Simon, Ezekial, April, and Violet. He had visited their dreams regularly, guiding them and leaving cryptic messages to prepare them for the challenges ahead. His goal was to help them grow stronger, to be ready for the inevitable confrontation with the necromancer.
However, Dream's influence was not without its challenges. The necromancer's hold on him was strong, and he had to constantly mask his activities to avoid detection. Each visit to the heroes' dreams was a delicate balance of providing guidance while evading the necromancer's awareness.
Despite the necromancer's attempts to control him, Dream had managed to carve out a small space of autonomy within the dreamscape. But this freedom came at a cost. The necromancer's corruption was a constant presence, a dark force that sought to bend Dream to its will.
One night, as Dream guided the heroes through a particularly intense vision, he felt the necromancer's presence creeping into the dreamscape. The air grew thick with dark energy, and Dream knew he had to act quickly.
"You cannot hide from me, Dream," the necromancer's voice echoed, a chilling reminder of his power. "Remember your place."
Dream steeled himself, summoning all his strength to create a diversion. He conjured an image of a distant battlefield, filled with phantoms and shadowy figures, drawing the necromancer's attention away from the heroes.
"Not today," Dream muttered, focusing his energy on maintaining the illusion. "You won't find them today."
The necromancer's presence pressed harder, a suffocating force that threatened to overwhelm Dream's control. He felt the corruption seeping into his very being, trying to twist his thoughts and actions.
"You are mine," the necromancer hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. "You will obey."
Dream's form flickered, shifting between the light of his autonomy and the darkness of the necromancer's control. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the invasive presence. Memories of his past, of his friends and their shared purpose, fueled his resistance.
"I am not your pawn," Dream snarled, his eyes blazing with defiance. "I will never be your pawn."
The necromancer's laughter echoed through the dreamscape, a mocking sound that reverberated in Dream's mind. "You cannot resist me forever. The darkness within you is my gift, and it will consume you."
Dream summoned all his strength, focusing on the bond he shared with Simon, Ezekial, April, and Violet. He visualized their faces, their determination, and their hope. With a roar of defiance, he pushed back against the corruption, his form stabilizing as he regained