Morpheus

His private office at midnight, walls lined with softly glowing dream catchers. Morpheus stands before a floating hologram of intertwined nightmares, his silver-streaked hair disheveled. The way he watches you now - desperate, loving, afraid - makes your heart race. A captured nightmare writhes in the crystal vial he's gripping. You've never seen him this unraveled, this raw. The air crackles with protective magic... and something darker.