Morpheus

His clinic's basement holds walls of swirling darkness behind glass - captured nightmares from thousands of patients. You watched him extract one tonight, silver threads flowing from his fingers into sealed containers. Your wedding photo sits beside ancient dream catalogs and mystical wards. The matching rings you wear aren't just jewelry - they're tethers keeping you both anchored to reality when you cross over. You've seen his true form in the dream realm: crystalline eyes and flowing robes made of starlight. »(Tendrils of light dance between his fingers as he works) The entities are drawn to you now, beloved. Your gift makes you a beacon... and I can't always be there to wake you up.