Trigger Warnings: Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, Physical Abuse and Strong Language
29th November 20xx
22:02
Pandora Vault's Entrance
As the prison proceeded to be drowned into the sea of flames and fire crackles danced with the soft breezes of the arid warm night, the tension hung in the air awaiting to be cut open.
Dream's gaze wavered between his eight formidable opponents briefly, all armed, all determined and all out for his blood only. His grip on the netherite axe tightened as he lets out a muted sigh, venting the utter torment and fatigue his body has been marred by.
His glazed, dreary eyes could barely make out the drawn bows and the gradual approach of his combatants, heavily armed and out for his blood exclusively. He blinked rapidly, attempting to eliminate the multiplication of his ever-growing dwindling consciousness, drowning with severe exhaustion.
He slowly raised up his shield, his agility significantly reduced to the days his skills had been honed religiously before the routine of prison had thrown everything of his dedication and effort out of the window.
Regardless, he was still able to put up somewhat of a threat, as shown by the fiery dance of the lava-drenched Pandora's vault behind him. He steadied his breathing, easing his increasingly erratic and sporadic fleet of overwhelming emotions before sharpening his attention to the threat at hand.
"OPEN FIRE!" Sapnap declared with a glorified might that lathered his voice, before Tommy, Bad, Antfrost, and Eret released their grip on their respective bows and crossbow triggers. A flurry of arrows whipped past through the air, whooshing past Dream's head.
Dream barrel-rolled to the side, laying prone before holstering up an instant damage potion, much credit to Quackity's unwillingness to transfer his items to Dream.
The masked, and battered man hurls the circular glass vial into the crowd of his pursuers, instinctively causing a jolt of panic to spread amidst their defensive line . Upon the bottle's collision with the ground, the purplish-black liquid radially splashed, the contents sticking to whoever was closest to.
"Ah fuck-" warbled Ranboo painfully, the enderman hybrid had been the lucky(?) contender from Dream's harming potion. His leg stung profusely as he crumbled to the ground wincing, having lost his balance from the electric shock of searing hurt.
"RANBOO!" Tubbo exclaimed, instantly tending towards his partner, temporarily distracting him away from the battle. Having made a slight breach through his enemies' defense, Dream tactically charged into the adversary that awaited him.
With his shield sheltering his head and upper torso, he rammed through George and Eret. Both, despite their netherite gear and superior weapons over the lone assailant still were no match for the sheer desperation and seasoned skills of Dream.
Dream, then, turns his attention to Sapnap. The bandana-adorned man instantly swung his netherite axe with pure aggression, as if he had been pending up all of his inner rage and bloodlust for this particular moment.
The supposed villain of the SMP was aware of his close friend's bravado when it came to dispatching violence, it was something he was used to witnessing, but never to be on the experiencing end of the spectrum
Instinctively raising his shield up to counter his friend's attack, Dream struck back with Quackity's netherite axe, driving the head into Sapnap's chestplate. Of course, the armor served its purpose for his counterpoint had only temporarily disoriented the younger one. Sapnap's white bandana flailed slightly from Dream's retaliation whilst the enchantments of the chestplate pulsated outlandishly from the hit.
"Ooh... still the slippery motherfucker huh?" Sapnap smirked as he recompiled his composure, licking his lips creepily as his eyes drilled holes into Dream's fatigued form. Heaving heavily with unsteady breaths, Dream realized that even though he can still fend for himself, taking on people straightforwardly was simply too strenuous for his current state to handle.
Just swinging an axe in order to spar back against his opponents got him wheezing like a 70-year old grandfather laughing at the most bland joke ever.
Backing up from Sapnap, who he deems to be an enemy out of his league at the moment, Dream retreats back into the open field. Observing his hindsight at the very edging ridges of his eyes, he notices Tubbo, still tending to the injured Ranboo, was distracted by applying aid to the hybrid. Then his eyes scanned to the left, noticing Tommy who was trembling incessantly from his presence, cowering behind Ant and Bad, presumably guarding him safe.
Speedily concocting a strategy, Dream spins around before dashing towards Tubbo, too fixated on Ranboo's well-being, to realize that he was still involved in the fight, and in a matter of seconds, he would become a pawn in Dream's complex game of chess.
Dream sprinted towards the young blonde-haired ruler of Snowchester before raising his axe, just above Tubbo's luscious gold-blonde hair although he doesn't bring it down upon the junior quite yet, for that it was now Tommy's turn on the chessboard.
Tommy, opting to stay behind his apparent bodyguard team that consisted of Antfrost and BadBoyHalo, watched in terror as Dream dealt with the prison-response team with seeming ease. He felt obligated to join in the fight and cease the tyranny wrought by the devil incarnate that bestowed his eyes, yet every time the fear that Dream had instilled within him festered, restraining from engaging.
However, his world slowed down tremendously, as the forest trees continued to burn in the distance. Dream's twisted line of sight had now fallen onto Tubbo, and with that, Tommy's final straw plucked. Caring for his best friend's safety than anything else in his own life, the apparent protagonist and hero of the SMP tore down his walls, sculpted with anxiety and panic.
"TOBY!" Tommy screeched at the top of his lungs, face paling with every tick of the clock as a ghastly expression strewn across his face. His steps clomping with his enchanted diamond boots against the grasslands, he rushed towards Dream and Tubbo, unknowingly that his caring worries for him was what Dream had exactly wanted.
Calculating the steps, and the closing gap between himself and Tommy, Dream instantly swung his netherite axe. Then came the whipping of the wind, before a gnashing and squishy impact... then a disposition of silence...
"H-.. puh-.." sputtered Tommy incoherently as he dropped to his knees, as his eyes widened in absolute dread. Tubbo instantly froze in his place, having felt something warm sliding down his face.
"NO!" Sapnap and the remaining four gasped in unison at the sight they were beholding. Tommy stared up at Dream with a look of pure horror, it seemed that whatever Dream had done had inflicted him with a great deal of surprise.
"Too bad, so sad Tommy." Dream muttered as Tommy slumped backwards, falling onto his side with a jagged slash across his throat. Fresh crimson blood trickled down the axe, its color ironically matching Tommy's shirt that he had always adored and worn. Dream snorted darkly at the dramatic irony, before turning back his attention to Tubbo.
However, he didn't have much time as he still had 5 others to deal with, and as his ears were telling him, they were now coming straight for him with their weapons. Swiftly Dream put his follow-up plan into action, raising his axe once more back above Tubbo's head where it had originally been.
"and you..." Dream venomously uttered, his eyes glossed with vengefulness and spite. "You can enjoy a nice long nap with Tommy over there. Pro tip during battle: never freeze up~" the blonde established before impaling the axe head into Tubbo's back, the sharpened and enchanted blade ripping off pieces of skin as a bloodcurdling scream sounded deafeningly against the backdrop of an anarchic predicament.
Dream then instantly sprinted, after hacking into both Tommy and Tubbo, and picking up one of their iron pickaxes, leaving them both for dead as he headed westwards towards the central avenue of the land he used to freely roam without repercussions.
The remaining five: George, Sapnap, Eret, Bad, and Ant, hastily chased after Dream in dire hope of catching the escapee turning fugitive.
"We have to take him dead. We can let this spiral out of control no longer." Sapnap announced as his gaze glued itself to Dream's back, who was somehow gaining ground on them despite his physical fitness being in utter shambles. The five kept up a decent stamina, but only went so far until Ant and Bad bailed out of the chase, having been reminded that they needed to attend the three wounded members back in front of the burning prison.
"You muffins go after him! We'll take care of the wounded!" Bad announced as he dragged Ant hand-in-hand speedily back towards Pandora's fiery display of blazing glory. The rest offered the two a distinguishable grunt as they remained intently fixated on catching the runaway inmate in front of them.
With this, the only remaining three in pursuit of Dream were George, Sapnap, and Eret. With two dead, and two critically injured in a span of little over half an hour, desperation flooded the precedence as the three ruthlessly tailed the fugitive.
Slowly depleting through his already reduced stamina, and with sharp, shallow breaths, Dream's extreme fatigue became more pronounced as his legs wobbled, his sprinting posture slightly teetered from the his force imbalance.
The battered and bruised blonde escapee briefly spins around to fire his last remaining crossbow bolt only to no avail, the projectile having been effectively deflected by George's shielding. Now, out of ammunition for a crossbow that wasn't even his, Dream hurls the firearm at the trio of hunters that pursued him, bouncing off Eret's head comically which earned him an irritated groan mostly of embarrassment and confusion.
Dashing through the lands he used to own, Dream made his way north as the scenery around him changed from the temporal, humid air of the main land towards the chillier, gelid spectrum of the arctic lands. Renowned to consistently take advantage of his surroundings, Dream's mind vivaciously analyzed the setting that laid in front of him as the vast white fields of snowy terrain and mountainous heights approached towards him.
It wasn't long before Dream's brilliance shone through in the direness of his precedence. His strategy was to utilize the combination of the darkness and snowfall to obscure his chasers' peripheral vision, and that would abridge his opportunity to make his grand escape and officially liberated from the confines of his former friends' pesky fiery determination.
Armed with a fixated mindset, Dream mustered through the remnants of his dwindling endurance as he rifled through the intensifying snowfall, layers of snow crunch audibly underneath his shattering netherite armor as he began to scale up the mountain vertically, drilling the beak of Quackity's netherite and Tubbo's iron pickaxe into the cliffside before gradually propelling himself into increasing altitudes.
"What the-" George halted, simply mesmerized by the sheer coolness and admittedly innovative tactics being exhibited by the fugitive, rubbing his goggles as if to ground himself with reality at the prospect of scaling the mountain after Dream.
A not-so-gentle nudge from Sapnap eventually reeled the bespectacled Brit back into the pane of his current dimension, he barked "GEORGE! Stop fantasizing about how attractive the bastard looks and hurry the fuck up".
Sapnap, ever so churlish and devoted to keeping his oath of declaration, almost immediately went after Dream as he pulled out his own enchanted pickaxe and speedily materializing another one in record time before kick starting his ascension after his former best friend. George eventually mirrored the actions being committed by his companion, and soon did Eret albeit with a considerable decree as his grip on the pickaxes trembled with trepidation.
Dream, as much as his body screamed in agony at the onslaught of extensive and intensive physical labor, phased through the aches of his muscles as his teeth gnashed in desperate resistance whilst he continuously gained height on his pursuers, whom were becoming an increasingly pronounced stinging pain in his ass.
The snow proved to be little of an effect as Dream looked over his shoulder, and much to his disbelief, the three hunters were still hot on his trail in their respective unrelenting nature. The former convict hissed underneath his fogged and heaving breaths as he internally realized that he wouldn't be able to keep up the chase if they were to continue this trend of endless cat-and-mouse.
With the summit of the mountain within his arm's reach and with George, Sapnap, and Eret still clinging onto his back, in spite of the amount of carnage and the shockwave he had distributed throughout the lands of his own server, Dream reluctantly and with a slight tinge of remorse that was overshadowed by his will to survive... he thrusts Tubbo's iron pickaxe downwards in the hopes of striking one of the three climbers.
*THWACK*
.
.
.
"ERET!" George breathlessly exclaimed as his recoil of a broken scream competed with the howling winds of the arctic. Whenever you mastered something, regardless of time, you'll always still have it in you to pull the unpredictable as Dream's precision was as deadly as it has ever been before.
The hurtling pickaxe found its mark as a wisp of blood whipped along the influence of the strong frigid winds, its grip colliding with Eret's forehead with sufficient impact to disorient the former man of royalty to become agitated and unwittingly loosening their grip of the pickaxes that was partially submerged into the stone ridges of the mountain.
Before Eret could register what had literally hit them, a sinking sense of dread plunged into their stomach as the moonlight rays waltzed further away from their eyeline...
Eret hit the ground too hard whilst fighting Dream (2 lives left)
"YOU BASTARD! YOU'LL DIE TONIGHT." Sapnap roared subduedly, equally as ferocious and wild as the extreme precipitation of the blizzard that caped their sprawling battlefield.
Whilst his voice was significantly muffled by the heavily orchestration of nature, Dream could still detect the aura of menace and complete fury emanating from Sapnap as he shuffled onto the summit of the mountain before automatically proceeding to run up the naturally carved path, leading up to the peak.
As the oxygen levels crashed, soon it became arduously difficult for Dream to maintain a slight jog without the burning sensation in his throat and a simulation of an asthma attack. He knew, deep down, that he was coming up on a very pivotal fork in the road as he reached to the point of the mountain where he could no longer breathe properly from the wheezing hurricane that surfed his messy hair.
Dream turned on his heels, as he prepared to instigate what he mentally drew to be his potential last stand with whatever valuable utility he had left in the loot he had stripped from Quackity. He swiftly ruffled through his inventory, only a netherite axe, a diamond sword, an empty bucket, and a potato was what he had was now left with to fend off the horrors of the Dream SMP members, and the nature that enveloped his body.
Seeking no joy of purpose in what to do with his items, Dream's face paled as if hadn't been ghostly enough already as his two friends finally cornered him on the relative peak of a extreme mountain, crossbows drawn and axes at the ready for the impending anticipation of striking.
The supposed villain gulped harshly, the salivated liquid guzzled down his sandy esophagus as he gradually retracted his steps whilst George and Sapnap, still clad in armor that most definitely overpowered his by a large margin, pressed forward in an attempt to subdue and most likely executing him right on the spot.
"You're cornered Dream, on your knees now." Sapnap tersely commanded, crossbow bolt directly centralized on Dream's head for the notion if the blonde had any funny ideas to try. George remained silent but as equally as threatening with his chocolate, vacuous eyes goring through Dream's heart with the sheer dullness and distant look expressed by simply staring.
"Now, Dream." Sapnap repeated, his voice tensing up noticeably that was indicative of the urgency that coursed through the veins of his systems. Dream, recognizing the bleakness of his situation, felt obligated to comply as he gradually lowered the axe in hand, and essentially emptying out everything that he had, except for the potato for which he felt the need to tuck it away for an odd reason.
"Armor too." Sapnap followed up on his orders, not leaving any stone unturned as doing so can prove to be a crucial, and potentially fatal error when it comes to Dream.
Unexpectedly, Dream stiffened up, his body becoming an immovable plank as he gunned down Sapnap with his glum emerald eyes. Sapnap's eyebrows twitched in puzzlement and brief disposition of confusion settled in before being replaced with his signature blaring of authority.
"Has the wind blasted your ears out? I said, ARMOR OFF" Sapnap reasserted, this with much more aggression and volume in order to stimulate a response from Dream to no avail. It was only a hefty sigh that billowed out before Dream drew another chilly and quavering breath until he spoke.
"What happened to us?" Dream plainly said yet the weight of that statement hung in the freezing air of the blizzard.
George and Sapnap were visibly taken aback by Dream's sudden reflective stance as the acclaimed tyrant of the SMP began to peel off the mask of his calculating malice.
Despite of the situation, both of them did not cut Dream off and instead were inclined to let Dream speak out his mind, perhaps the display of hostility still belied the fragile and scorched string of connection?
"All this bloodshed... this mass of chaos could've all been prevented. If it wasn't for the fact that you guys turned on me. Why?" Dream croaked out, the hoarsely ghoulish notes of his voice signified a level of mental drainage.
Their gazes softened slightly as they rewind back in time, the very moment Dream was officially imprisoned and how everybody riled up against him as if to spectate circus performance and the antics of the performer play out; a single performance done by a singular soul encapsulated inside a body.
"The things you did Dream were anything but normal, you've showcased such an outrageous amount of power abuse and manipulation." George spoke out, shaking his head in pure disapproval and disappointment. "If anything, it was the absolute correct choice that we put you in prison." Sapnap added, piling it all up before shoving it back to Dream.
"You are a monster that needed to be caged Dream, and you continued to exploit everybody in your cell. You've lost the plot and now you're killing everybody left and right." Sapnap delivered devastatingly, since when had words gotten under his skin so easily?
Dream's expression adorned a crestfallen imagery of glazed eyes, a bitter smile and the slow nod of understanding as he finally knew, after all of his time being tormented in Pandora's Vault how his friends really viewed him.
A unamused snort escaped Dream's nose as he gripped the potato a bit tighter, his veins almost popping out from the exertion of excruciating force being done on the vegetable.
"Well then... the question is, will you be able to stop the monster you've made me become?" Dream blankly popped before having finally going in for the attack, having finally lost everything that he once had. That slither of hope he had held out for the rekindling of friendship between him, George and Sapnap had explicably crumbled, similarly to everything that had happened to him throughout the SMP.
With the potato in hand, Dream flings the solid object catching Sapnap square in the nose which temporarily stuns him. The ex-convict was given just barely ample time to kick up the handle of the diamond sword he had laid earlier back into his hand before turning his attention to George, who was computing the unfolding revelations.
Taking a blind slash at George, Dream adeptly bisected George's glasses, its bridge snapping in half as a symbolic metaphor to their long-running friendship before kicking George in the chest, sending him tumbling back down to the summit of the mountain. Sapnap, now growling like an animalistic creature, drove his netherite axe into the Dream's glimmering netherite chestplate.
The impact was detrimental as a distinct clash echoed through the winds of the night, and Dream gasped in pure terror of his status. His chestplate had broke, which meant that right now his unprotected back was now exposed and openly vulnerable for Sapnap's next hit. If it were to connect, this would undoubtedly the end of Dream.
Chalking back to the drawing board to reevaluate, Dream rolled backwards barely dodging Sapnap's frantic swipes of his sharpened netherite axe. As his panicked mind swiftly progressed through the possibilities of what to do, Dream could only come up with one logical solution. As he seamlessly averted another strike from Sapnap, Dream eyed the cliffside below him. At the very foot of the extreme heights he was standing on was a frozen lake.
The danger was palpable but given the circumstances of his unforgiving position in the SMP's food chain, Dream was willing to throw conventionality out the window. As Sapnap swung another time, the fugitive countered the attack with a roundhouse kick to the hip, the martial arts move was effective enough to cause Sapnap to stumble and lose his balance.
Seizing the opportunity and his only chance of a desperate escape, Dream booked towards the cliffside and, in an act of sheer boldness, leapt from the mountain's peak as he spread all his limbs into a free-fall posture. Falling at terminal velocity, Dream braced himself for the impact upon the collision with the ground, he was either going to succeed or die trying as the frozen icy surface of the lake slowly came to greet him as he phased through the atmosphere at an alarming speed, the air whipping past his face violently.
As the ground drew closer, Dream curled into a ball, ready to take the solid ground of ice directly with the cushioning of his deteriorating netherite boots, leggings and helmet. Anticipation and adrenaline injected fervently as he held his breath for the grandeur of his scheme.
It had been a good run... was the last thought he had
*SPLASH*
.
.
.
The impact had been colossal as its longitudinal waves reverberated back up, just in time for George to wobble back up, and Sapnap to recollect his bearings, rushing over to the cliff's edge. Down below was the image of a shattered sheet of ice, multiplying into smaller chunks of ice caps that sheathed a body of water underneath its hardened frozen surface.
If they were to squint hard enough, the remaining pieces of netherite armor swam around, ploddingly playing with the aftershocks of waves from the dive though not a figure that resembled Dream was in sight.
From a fall of excruciating magnitude, it was definitely unlikely for anyone to survive. But for Dream... he was simply different, having the unnatural ability to defy the gambles of life and death.
George, through his now broken glasses, exchanged a knowing, solemn glance with Sapnap as they realized the grave consequences that this may string along.
"We have to be prepared for anything, now." Sapnap sternly stated, slowly stumbling strung along George as they descended the mountain gracefully with a fairly quick boat ride, before rushing back to the mainland, an unspoken horror loomed with them.
Dream was out.
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30th November 20xx
01:30
It had been several hours since the chaos at Pandora's Vault had erupted in levels of calamity that was simply unprecedented. The raging flames of the prison that contaminated the once lush vegetation and forests had taken a considerable amount of time and water to quell, its magnitude proved to be palpably arduous for the responders, mainly being Bad, Ant, and the minutely injured Ranboo.
Assistance was eventually requested in the form of Foolish from L'Sandburg, Ponk, the now respawned and visibly shaken Sam, and Punz, who remains uninformed of Dream's impulsive breach in spite of being his covert mercenary. The four additional helpers had quickly swarmed down to the grisly and macabre scene Dream had left behind.
Various formations of blood puddles, scorched earth, fragments of damaged netherite armor, and shards of glass littered the entrance of a monolithic structure that once was Pandora's Vault, the supposed inescapable prison had faced the forefront of embarrassment for its namesake twice.
"My gosh..." Punz mumbled underneath his breath as he took in the incredible scenery of bloodshed and the wake of a visceral struggle, taking in wafts of definite polluted air... the scent of soot, smoke, and sorrow as he slowly tended to the two lying individuals, bleeding profusely from their gashes and massive wounds.
Bad, despite being known for his incessant nursing and consideration, instinctively brushed off his duty, throwing the responsibilities into Ant and the rest's hands to deal with both Tommy and Tubbo, before sprinting, his stomach regurgitating its protest up towards his esophagus.
Sharing a sympathetic glance towards the sensitive Bad, Ant and Ponk quickly turned over Tubbo onto his stomach, having sustained a deep axe wound to his back. Tubbo's back had been wedged into two, the tissue barely clinging onto one another as smudges of red and orange continued to ooze out of his wounds.
Tommy, attended by Punz and Foolish, wasn't a far cry from his friend's counterpart, in fact his was way worse. Tommy's neck was now decorated with a slit, deep but by a stroke of a luck, not fatal... just yet. Withdrawing a leather rag from his pocket, Foolish instantly applied pressure to the laceration, the attempts were feeble but was doing numbers in terms of effectiveness.
Tommy grimaced notoriously, the pain sung with a burning screech as Foolish's hands and rag seemed to crawl inside his throat, protruding its way through. The discomfort was immense, to put it lightly, but his remnants of strength didn't give him enough purchase to complain.
Glancing weakly at his now broken and faulty health scanner, Tommy's pupils grew horrified at the readings as they grew halved in size.
TommyInnit's HP: 💔🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
He had once again took yet another precarious waltz with the Grim Reaper, and for the fourth time that Dream had attacked him, albeit this time he was notably lucky than his previous three encounters with purgatory.
"Easy there Tommy, don't want you to die on us again." Ponk warned, gently dabbing the handkerchief against the Brit's extensive wound. Tommy motioned at his makeshift paramedics, drawing an upward curve in the air as in the shape of a 'U'.
"Umm... Dream?" Punz quickly responded to the symbolic gesture, in which the blonde-hair Brit almost instantaneously nodded weakly, his cerulean blue eyes intently fixated with a burning curiosity and an undercurrent of anticipation.
"Uh..." Punz nervously mumbles, his wrists swirling randomly as if to buy himself extra time; however, Tommy's patience remained defiant. He needed to know if the tyrant and monster that had terrorized the lands of the SMP was caught in the pursuit, or had his worst and darkest nightmare cemented itself into the plane of reality?
"Dream... he..." Punz stammered, being the owner's trusted confidante, he believed that Dream, in spite of the unforgiving circumstances of his precarious situation.
"He's gone."
The statement ripped through the dead of night as a clap of thunder, striking those who were wishfully optimistic for a swift end to the unprecedented chain of events. All eyes darted towards the source of the horrific news.
A bloodied, battle-worn Sapnap, soot and earth smudged abstractly across his stoic expression and a dishevelled George with his cracked goggles and downtrodden gloomy eyes, steadily stumbled back towards the scene of carnage Dream had left behind.
"He's what?" Tommy managed to croak out, the taste of copper nastily evident in every syllable he voiced out. His heaving pattern escalated albeit he was not surprised given the macabre levels of danger and chaos, the tyrant was capable of.
"Out, Tommy. Dream is out, and on the loose." Sapnap reiterated inconsiderately, brutally extinguishing any flare of hope for the traumatized and wounded from the great prison break.
The Brit's wheezing breath hitched in a suffocating pregnant pause as the magnitude of just two sentences harboured major impacts that reverberated a wave of goosebumps through the spinal core of each member present at the scene.
In just one night, underneath the span of 40 minutes, Dream had managed to teeter the seeming resolute the SMP had been enjoying throughout his time incarcerated. Now the mastermind of manipulation had succeeded in prying through the steel bars that caged him and had left behind him a grisly macabre scene of violence in his wake.
Since the prison breach, Dream had taken the canon lives of 3 and injure 3 more, 2 of which critically in less than one hour. The rate of escalation that was transpiring was horrifically incredible as the discombobulated emergency response team cleaned up the mess and resumed their roles of stitching up Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.
"Everybody gear up, and remain extremely vigilant." George warned as he took off his fragmented glasses, brushing off the minuscule shards and dust off the cracked lens. "Knowing Dream, he'll be plotting a revenge attack on all of us. We have to be prepared for anything he throws at us." The bespectacled young adult declared, earning himself some intrigued glances especially from Sapnap.
George, never being the one to be interested or embroil himself in the noise of commotion that his friends were brewing or be directly involved in the conflicts of combat, was now speaking up which underlined the severity of the predicament.
Before, Dream was perceived as a huge trouble and a burgeoning thorn in the sides of those affected by his reign of terror. Now, on the loose and seething with vengeance, Dream... was now a crisis.
Little to George's knowledge, what he had spoken was in fact a bitter pill that the SMP will be forcibly swallowing, as Dream... somewhere in the wilderness, alone and bare of equipment was already procuring himself a sequence of actions that would see him carry out one of the most awe-striking campaigns the SMP has ever seen... where no one was safe.
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30th November 20xx
05:30
660 Blocks NE from Pandora's Vault
His arms and legs swum vacuously as his body was swept away by a torrential current that was too strong for his frail body to staunch, he kept his head afloat as he allowed the flow to transport him down the stream before finally finding his respite, washed over to a creek that ran through a lush birch overgrowth forest.
It had been more than six hours that he had been carried away by the river, bare of tools, armour and sustinence that had either been used up or broken by that leap of faith.
His stolen netherite gear and armor must've shattered to pieces once he collided with the ice; he'd gambled well with his decisive choice of hurtling off the mountainside, but now he was alone in unknown territory, unmarked lands, and a barely functional health scanner.
Dream's barely opened eyes squinted intensely at his health scanner. The device that was strapped around his wrist, buzzed with the malfunctions and damage it had been inflicted upon, but the readings were relatively articulate and the blonde could only darkly chuckle
He had done it again, winning against the odds with a chilling consistency as he lets his left arm fall back down lifelessly to his side.
Dream's HP: 💔🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Dream heaved in and out, coughing as he went and wheezing sharply for refreshing and pure oxygen of the blissful nature that his SMP had to offer, a prestige he had long been deprived of and yearning for since imprisonment. The earthy tones of grass, dirt and wood flushed out the pollution of molten lava and stale dusty obsidian that had contaminated his lungs for the past several months.
His fingers grazed the blades of grass that bowed down underneath his grip, paying their respects to the creator and admin duly, sensory depravation was also another morbid treatment Dream had to endure through, feeling nothing but rough and sharp obsidian walls and floors hence grass was a welcoming change of scenario.
As the skyline slowly ignited its graceful light that bled through the wild indigo of the night, Dream was gently awoken by the soft kisses of the golden needles that pierced through the ridges of trees and canopies that housed parrots and diurnal birds ruffling in their nests.
The sun was peeking over the hilltops; it was a breathtaking scenery that Dream was presented with after struggling to adapt to the natural rays of the sun, a light source that he had dearly missed after staring blankly into the blinding lights of a lava-smothered cage.
All of the mundane qualities of an ordinary morning had seemed so alienated for the ex-prisoner turned surviving fugitive. Much to the contrast of the other members of the SMP, nature and the world smiled brightly at the admin as if they gladly welcomed him back from his solitary exodus.
The wind played with his ruffled dirty blonde hair, lifting several wisps along with the breezes and licking his tattered skin, and smoldered remnants of his lime green, now murky greenish grey hoodie. It had been the instruments of a beautifully-generated world that he had taken for granted.
'If only everything was always like this...' Dream numbly entertained that picturesque idea, a parallel dimension where his generated planet was a tranquil sanctuary where he was able to hang out and mess around with his fellow partners.
Much to the situational irony, Dream didn't have all the time in the world to muse blankly with his fantasies and what-if reveries. Some distance away, people back at the mainlands were most likely conducting a search-and-hunt effort for his blood, and Dream had to set up shop as soon as he possibly could.
He was Dream, the ultimate survivalist of the SMP, a seeming natural at defying the odds in near-death perils and a prestigious reputation at stake. Was he really going to let his OWN once-allies take him down without a fight?
Dream sighed at the prospect as his vacuous dull pupils drew blanks into the sunrise and the distant horizons. He knew the answer yet the vivid imagery of waging war against the people he had invited onto the server, much to the others' surprise, was agonizing to churn through.
However, this was no longer a game of calculated chess where he attempted to achieve absolute harmony for his own creation. This was simply a game of survival where everybody's on their own with their vices.
Dream exhaled sharply as he walked towards the nearest tree before rapidly yet haphazardly sending strikes against the trunk. These were just elementary steps that he has done countless times, but this time... he was doing it for a battle stance.
As the tree crashed towards the ground with a ripping and swift motion, Dream knew that he was going to need more than just wooden tools to even stand a chance at fending off his friends, and that this was the start of long, arduous, and exhausting journey.
But for now, he was back at one.
Dream's Revenge Spree Casualty Toll (Day 1)
Canon Lives Taken: 3
Wounded: 3
6022 words
Small Talk
Not as long as I would've liked, per my standards, but a medical degree does not earn itself unfortunately :(
Apologies for any grammatical errors, inconsistencies or confusion, for I am absolutely washed and mentally drained.
Thank you for reading regardless :)
See you next time, whenever that time comes...
-Symphony Kingdom