"What a damn irritating power," Draken growled, his voice a venomous curse slicing through the chaos as he twisted away from a torrent of flaming arrows cascading from the sky like a vengeful meteor shower. Their molten tips seared the air, trailing acrid smoke that stung the nostrils. His left arm, scorched black from a near miss, dangled uselessly, the charred flesh radiating pain that fueled his rage. Beneath his mask, his eyes burned with barely contained fury, his movements hampered but defiant, each dodge a testament to his unyielding will in the face of Abigail's onslaught.

"This is getting old fast," Lyrith snapped, her tone sharp with annoyance, like a blade scraping against stone. "It's gotta be just an illusion, right?" She summoned a portal with a flick of her wrist, its violet edges pulsing with unstable energy, just as an ice spear—glimmering with crystalline frost and sharp enough to split bone—hurtled toward her. The spear vanished into the portal's void, swallowed whole, leaving only a faint hum in its wake. Her shark-like teeth flashed in a grimace, her twin horns catching the dim light of the ravaged room, now a battlefield littered with smoldering debris and cracked stone, the air heavy with the tang of ozone and ash.

Lyrith and Draken were utterly outmatched, Abigail's uncanny abilities wrapping their minds in a vise of dread that tightened with each passing second. Her illusions weren't mere tricks but a mental siege, weaving deceptions so vivid they became reality itself. As she fought, Abigail unraveled the depths of her power, each clash a revelation. Whatever she could imagine—flaming arrows raining like divine wrath, ice spears slicing through the air, blood turrets erupting in crimson torrents—her illusions made real in her enemies' minds. To them, the pain was tangible, the wounds fatal, their brains unable to distinguish her falsifications from truth. The once-cozy room, with its warm hearth and starlit tapestries, was now a warzone, its walls scarred with craters, the air thick with the stench of burning and the faint, metallic tang of blood.

Draken moved like a storm incarnate, tendrils of lightning crackling around him, their electric arcs illuminating the chaos like jagged veins of a furious god. He had consumed a lightning clan elder, an SS-rank warrior, absorbing their power to amplify his own to god-tier levels. His speed was a blur, a streak of electric fury that left afterimages searing Liam's wide-eyed gaze, the boy huddled against a wall, his small frame trembling yet transfixed by the spectacle. But even Draken's enhanced prowess faltered against Abigail's relentless illusions, each dodge a desperate bid to outrun her mental onslaught.

Abigail wielded her powers with growing mastery, though her limited experience constrained her creativity. The flaming arrows, ice lances, and blood turrets she conjured were drawn from Liam's childish tales of heroic battles, shared during their playful days—innocent fantasies now transformed into instruments of devastation. Her body ached under the strain, the dungeon core within her pulsing with volatile energy that threatened to tear her apart, each illusion a gamble against her own mortality.

Lyrith, narrowly evading a bomb that detonated with a deafening roar, its shockwave singeing the tips of her ponytail, materialized beside Draken in a flash, her hand clamping onto his shoulder with urgent force. "We're out of our league," she hissed, her usual playful edge replaced by grim urgency, her eyes darting to the portal she'd opened behind them, its swirling vortex a beacon of escape. "Let's go."

Draken hesitated, his masked gaze burning with defiance, a tempest of pride and pragmatism warring within. He despised the thought of fleeing without crushing Abigail—she was a growing threat, a wildcard that could unravel their carefully laid plans. But staying meant death; her illusions were too potent, her resolve unyielding. With a grudging nod, he relented, stepping toward the portal with Lyrith, but not before casting a venomous glare at Liam, a silent promise to settle the score later. The portal hummed, its edges crackling as they vanished into its depths.

Abigail watched them retreat, her chest heaving with ragged breaths, her body trembling from the core's toll. She made no move to pursue—her focus was Liam's safety, and their absence ensured his survival far better than their presence. The room fell silent, the echoes of battle fading into a tense stillness, broken only by the crackle of smoldering embers and the faint creak of settling debris.

"You okay?" Abigail asked, her voice thick with concern as she knelt beside Liam, her eyes scanning his small form for any sign of harm. Her hands shook slightly, the strain of her abilities gnawing at her, though she masked it with a reassuring smile, her face a beacon of strength for the boy she'd sworn to protect.

"I'm fine," Liam said, his crimson eyes steady despite the fear lingering in their depths. "But Mum told you not to use your powers." His voice carried a mix of worry and reprimand, a child's plea for the woman who was his anchor to heed her own limits.

"I had to keep you safe," Abigail replied, her smile softening, though it veiled the truth of her weakening state. "I promised her that too. And see? I'm fine. Looks like she was wrong about the danger." Her words were a gentle deception, meant to ease Liam's fears, but the burning ache within her told a different story, the core's corruption a silent predator in her veins.

"That was awesome!" Liam exclaimed, his worry giving way to boyish excitement, his eyes sparkling with awe. "What's your power?" His curiosity was a bright spark, cutting through the grim aftermath like a ray of sunlight.

Abigail laughed, a rare sound that warmed the air, and explained her ability in simple terms—how her illusions could twist reality in her enemies' minds, making the impossible real. Liam's face lit up with shock and delight, his reaction coaxing another chuckle from her, a fleeting moment of joy amid the weight of their reality.

Time marched on, and Velira was laid to rest in a solemn burial beneath a canopy of ancient trees, their branches swaying in a mournful breeze under a star-strewn sky. Only Abigail and Liam attended, their quiet grief a sacred bond as they bid farewell to the woman who had forged their family. Driven by her vow to protect Liam, Abigail trained her abilities in secret, battling those who challenged her as she climbed the federation's ranks. Her illusions became legend, a force that held demonic threats at bay, until she stood as the undisputed sovereign, a beacon of hope and terror. Yet Draken's schemes festered, his influence poisoning other demigods, turning allies into foes who clashed with her under his hidden command, each fight a strain on her crumbling body.

Embracing the moniker Dream, Abigail let her true name fade into obscurity, a relic of a tortured past. She nurtured Liam's growth, watching him rise to demigod status and build a family, her heart swelling with pride even as the core's corruption drew her closer to death with every use of her power.

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