Perfect Dream

"Perfect Dream" was a ability possessed by every succubus. Unlike ordinary dreams, where a person could only see and hear, this dream allowed one to experience all senses—touch, taste, and even emotions. In this surreal state, the succubus had complete control, turning the dream into a weapon. They could craft any scenario, making it feel as real as life itself. It wasn't just a dream—it was an illusion so vivid that the victim couldn't distinguish it from reality.

This power served a dark purpose. By manipulating dreams, a succubus could drain a person's vitality without ever laying a hand on them. The stronger the succubus, the more potent and unbreakable the illusion became, capable of affecting even those with unshakable minds.

It was this dreadful power that Lunatic used on Lórien.

Normal succubus can't affect Lórien, Even high ranking one will have little effect. But the one who use "Perfect Dream", was none other than Lunatic, This generation's succubus queen, It had full effect on him.

When Scarlett unleashed her fifth torture—piercing rain—on Lysander and Luna, Lórien's mind was already at its breaking point. At that moment of vulnerability, Lunatic struck. She pulled him into her "Perfect Dream," crafting a cruel, relentless illusion. In this dream, Lórien witnessed unspeakable horrors.

Scarlett appeared more sadistic than ever, torturing his parents in ways beyond imagination. He saw them scream and writhe, their bodies breaking under the endless torment. And when the torture ended, he heard Scarlett announce the winners of her sick games.

"Leonidas," she declared—the name of his own uncle at the end.

It was all a lie. None of it had happened. But to Lórien, it was as real as the air he breathed.

The nightmare didn't stop there. Lunatic escalated the torment to unimaginable levels. Lórien was forced to watch his wife being violated by three strangers—one woman and two men—for three days straight. The pain in his chest was unbearable, like a dagger twisting deeper with every second.

He stood frozen, his body betraying him. His mind screamed for him to look away, to shut his eyes, but Lunatic's control over him was absolute. She didn't allow him the mercy of escape. He was a puppet, made to watch every second of the nightmare she orchestrated.

It was all done by lunatic without any guilt.

After filling Lórien's heart with unrelenting hatred, Lunatic finally released him from her *Perfect Dream.* When he came back to reality, the first thing he saw was his wife, trembling, her eyes filled with fear and desperation. But the illusion of the dream still consumed his mind. He didn't see his wife as the woman he loved; he saw her as the enemy he despised most. Blinded by rage and confusion, he lunged at her, stabbing her repeatedly without hesitation or mercy.

Yet, this wasn't the cruelest part of Lunatic's twisted plan.

There was one horrifying truth that made the nightmare far worse: everything Lórien did in the dream, he also did in real life.

While he was trapped in Lunatic's Perfect Dream, his body moved of its own accord. His actions, controlled by Lunatic, unfolded before everyone's eyes as if he were fully conscious.

What did this mean?

Yes, that's right. While Lórien's mind was trapped, his body betrayed him, enacting every grotesque command Lunatic whispered into his dream.

Scarlett hadn't stopped torturing his parents during all of this. They screamed in agony as their son sat on his knees, his eyes wide open but hollow, lost in a nightmare no one could see. To those watching, it seemed like Lórien was fully aware of what was happening around him. But he wasn't.

And then came Lunatic's chilling command in the dream:

"Why don't you release all that tension? Masturbate while watching your wife… Isn't this the best choice for you right now? Do it."

In the dream, Lórien obeyed, his mind broken and manipulated. But the horror was that his body obeyed too.

What did everyone see?

They saw Lórien, kneeling, pleasuring himself while his parents endured unimaginable torment. The scene was beyond disturbing, a grotesque image that sent waves of disgust and shock through everyone watching.

His wife, seeing him in such a state, screamed, her voice filled with despair. "Dear, please save me! I don't want to die!"

But instead of rushing to save her, Lórien turned to her with lifeless eyes. To the horror of everyone present, he stabbed her—again and again—until her cries faded into silence. Blood splattered across his face, yet his expression remained blank, as though he didn't even realize what he was doing.

At that moment, it became clear to everyone: Lórien had completely lost his mind.

Realization hit Lórien like a mountain crushing his chest. His voice trembled with rage and despair as he roared, "You! You manipulated me!" He lunged forward, his fist aimed at Scarlett, but before he could even come close, Reiza moved faster than the eye could follow. In one swift motion, she twisted his arms behind his back, forcing him to kneel on the ground.

From the crowd, someone let out a quiet chuckle, unable to hold back their amusement at his misery.

"Pfft…"

That small laugh triggered something uncontrollable. The next moment, waves of laughter erupted, spreading like wildfire through the room.

At first, Lórien thought it was mockery, but soon he realized something darker was happening. The people, his people, weren't just laughing at him—they were transforming. Their faces warped into twisted visages of demons, their eyes glowing blood-red, and black horns sprouting from their foreheads.

"Hahaha! What a loser! I didn't know he was this pathetic!" someone jeered.

"Haha, look at him! The great Lórien brought to his knees!" another sneered.

Lórien's head spun as the voices surrounded him. He could hear it all, see it all. His own people, the ones he fought for, the ones he trusted, were now reveling in his downfall.

"No! Stop laughing! Stop it!" he screamed, shutting his eyes tightly, trying to block out the nightmare.

Scarlett's laughter rang out above the rest, cold and mocking. "Oh no, Lórien. Don't shut your eyes. There's still so much more for you to see," she taunted, her voice dripping with malice.

Lórien's heart sank as Scarlett turned and walked toward lunatic and behind her was a small figure standing quietly in the shadows. Gently, she placed her hands on the child's shoulders and guided her into the light, lowering herself to the child's level.

It was a little girl, no older than six or seven, with green hair that shimmered like her mother's. Lórien's breath caught in his throat.

"Cathia…" he whispered, his voice breaking.

It was his daughter—his sweet, innocent daughter. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her small body trembling like a fragile leaf.

Lórien's heart shattered. His knees buckled beneath him as Cathia's soft voice broke the suffocating silence.

"Why, Daddy?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper. Her wide, teary eyes searched his for answers. "Why did you kill Mama?"

The weight of her words hit him like a sledgehammer. How could he explain something so monstrous? How could he tell her it wasn't him, but a cruel illusion that made him do it?

"No! Listen to me, Cathia! Daddy didn't—Daddy didn't mean to! Please, let me explain!" he cried, his voice thick with desperation.

He struggled against Reiza's iron grip, pouring every ounce of strength he had into breaking free. Somehow, he managed to escape her hold, stumbling as he rushed toward his daughter.

But just as he reached out to pull her into his arms.

Lórien froze, his heart stopping as Scarlett opened her mouth unnaturally wide. He knew what was coming, but his body couldn't move fast enough to stop it.

"No! Don't!" he screamed.

In one horrifying motion, Scarlett's sharp teeth sank into Cathia's small neck, cutting clean through it. Blood sprayed like a crimson fountain, painting the air red.

Cathia's tiny head flew upward, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. For a moment, the world seemed to slow as her severed head hovered in the air, her lips moving faintly.

"Everything looks upside down, My neck, It hurts… It hurts so much…".

Her soft, broken voice echoed as her head fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood pooled around her fragile body, soaking into the floor.

She was dead. And this time it was not illusion, It was reality.