Geralt opens his eyes to a perfect morning at Corvo Bianco. Yennefer sleeps beside him, the vineyard basks in golden sun, and not a single monster lurks in the shadows. But his mind is scarred with memories of war, the Wild Hunt, and a world drowned in blood — none of which anyone else recalls. Every smile feels rehearsed, every peaceful moment a lie. Is this a wish granted, a dream he refuses to wake from, or a prison crafted by something far more sinister? The closer he looks, the more the cracks in paradise begin to show.