[Doom Door]

Running away is often a completely viable solution to many problems.

Unveiling yourself, however, is not.

When cloaked in flesh, this dreamland didn't react quite so hostilely to Eao. But now that she has made it clear that she's any enemy?

The sky grows dark.

The previously white stone becomes pitted, cracked, and stained with mud.

Previously immaculately trimmed hedges are now wild snags of malignant brambles.

The sense of hostility and otherness rapidly intensifies as nothing pulls itself out of the hole in the world. From that sucking wound in reality comes a shape, deep darkness, insectile and alien. Antenna whip. Claws grasp at the pavement, carving furrows through it, jaws gnash at the air. A shadow. A shade of oblivion. Points of light, like fireflies in the night, dance where one might expect a head to be. Everything near it begins to slowly unwind.

It is jabberwocky. Nothing. Nonsense.

A scion of the Dreamheart.

The blot of unreality releases a scream of white noise and garbled voices, sonic talons that rend and annihilate thought. And then it begins moving toward Eao with malicious intent.

There is a door. The decay sweeping across the dream glade hasn't reached it. Not yet. She could still escape, but she must hurry.

What does she do?