No Room for Weakness

The gentle hum of the mansion's late-night quiet was broken only by the rustle of leaves outside and the faint creak of floorboards.

Lilith sat alone by the wide window in her room, her mind a storm of confusion. The moonlight cast a pale glow across her desk, illuminating the scattered pages of ancient texts and notes she and Amon had painstakingly gathered over the past few weeks.

Lately, things had started to feel… off.

Her powers were growing—too quickly. It wasn't just the surge of magic she could feel in her veins during training. It was in the strange, almost otherworldly dreams that had begun to haunt her at night.

Dreams of the fairy kingdom, of grand palaces now in ruins, of laughter and joy now replaced by sorrow and despair. And in each dream, a voice—soft and melodic—calling her name.

"Lilith…"