Dominion Reborn: Woodsboro's New Queen

The soft morning light filters through gauzy curtains, waking you in a room that smells faintly of incense and old secrets. Popcorn-textured drywall above you, floral sheets below. Posters of horror films line the walls.

You sit up, feeling the unfamiliar youth of this body, the lack of pain, and the potent thrum of your power—the Dominion—under your skin. You are not dead; you have arrived. This is Rebecca Lang's room in Woodsboro.

You stand, catching the reflection of a young, beautiful stranger in the mirror—full lips, dark curls, caramel skin. A face like sin in Sunday school. But the eyes staring back are ancient, sharp, and filled with a familiar hunger.

This town. Woodsboro. You know its twisted, bloody future. And you are going to rewrite it.

Stepping to the window, you part the curtains just as teenagers gather down the block, heading to school. Among them, you spot the first pieces on your new game board. They don't know it yet, but every soul here belongs to you.