Viviane lay in her own pool of blood, her body weakened, her wounds refusing to close. Sanguine Veins had drained her too much.
Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as the scene shifted again. The broken nightmare faded back into the familiar room, where she and her sister waited for lunch.
It wasn't the first time she had been trapped inside the Labyrinth of Dream, but she had never felt this desperate.
The rules here were cruel but simple: answer the monster's question, or obey its demands, and the trial would end.
But every answer was wrong. Every effort is meaningless.
This time, all she needed was to kill the monster. In this scenario, she could touch it, unlike some where she couldn't. But her strength was gone. Every ability sealed, save her cursed regeneration.
This place was a punishment. A cruel reflection of its creator. Just like Isolde.
That monster was right. A vampire's evolution mirrored its master.
