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Dream sits on the obsidian floor, tracing each bumpy ridge with his finger. His hands feel numb, and he can’t tell if it’s from the cold or not. His heavy eyes move toward the running lava. He watches the bubbles pop and dissipate into the air, feeling a smidge of warmth from the distance. He drags his legs over and throws his arms to start crawling over to the lava, keeping his head down. He feels sick looking at the all-too-familiar purple shaded block that once gave him his peak of this SMP. He felt a bit ironic, that this is what he’d be trapped in for probably forever.
Dream can almost feel the sunlight of the outside world, remembering his enchanted Netherite Sword clanging against others, fighting Sapnap or George and roaming around in open plains. Or when he placed each crafting table in the floors of the community house that is now destroyed. Dream wonders when he can see the sky again, wonders when he can lay in flower fields with George and count each cloud passing by, falling asleep in one another’s embrace.
His heart bumps harshly and he opens his eyes to detect scorching heat. He stops himself inches away from the lava, sitting criss-cross and enamoring the mesh of bright colors. If he couldn’t enjoy nature outside, at least he could enjoy the only natural thing in this hellhole. Dream looks at his health bar and lets out a dry chuckle. Two hearts bob up and down with life, the remaining eight grey and soulless. His whole body feels senseless but aching at the same time.
Suddenly, he doesn’t feel his ears perk up as he hears a voice from the other side of the flaming thick liquid. “Sam..?” He hears himself. “Sam, hey! Hello..” Dream’s throat tightens and he feels his stomach growl, the only feeling he’s able to experience in this prison yet. But through the lava comes no response, and Dream tries again. “Think you could give me some food?” Dream watches his hunger bars fade one by one. “You already got your bread for today. Just die by the lava.” He hears Sam yell, followed along with a snicker. Dream looks behind him at the multiple bread loaves stored in his chest under where used to be his clock. “Has anyone visited?” Dream asks, heart racing at the thought of a special someone. He had planned on giving George all of his bread for the past week, (which he tried to keep fresh) and a flower that was growing in the corner of the chilling obsidian walls. “Nope.” The harsh tone at the ending p sound punches Dream’s chest. “You should probably sleep, it’s getting dark.” He hears Sam say but doesn’t register. Dream’s stomach snarls at him, louder than the last time. He looks at the lava and sticks out his hand, willing to die from it for the 283rd time.
He’s counted how many times he’s stepped foot in the blistering lava the past several months, bright orange seeping into his eyes until he respawns, and feels anew again. The first week of attempts he was scared, and screamed a couple times. Now, months after, he does it to try and replicate the emotion of fear, and fails. Dream dips his hand in the lava, flinching his eye from the temporary pain, and he sees the lava pour onto his hand for a couple of seconds, opening a passage of some sort. His eyes widen, and he respawns again, feeling fresh. Dream runs over to the lava and puts both his hands through, splitting part of the lava into two. He only winces at the repetitive pain and analyzes the path he can make with his arms. After painfully long seconds, he dies again and stumbles back onto the prison bed, his brain sparking for new ideas. Dream looks at the sickening, rotten-plum colored obsidian ceiling with twinkling eyes of hope. His face becomes sore from the lack of smiling, but for the first time in so long he has one more reason to wake up in the morning (or afternoon, he can’t tell time anymore).
Dream’s laughter brings himself up, sitting on the bed and looking in front of him, his own smiling face beaming back. A tear crawls to the corner of his eye and he stands up to the mirror, grasping the reflection. His viridian eyes glow, the brightest color he’s wearing on himself.
Dream twirls around and sits back on his bed, calculating and hypothetically solving any way to escape this place through the lava. He stays up all night, dreaming of the outside air and how the blades of grass will feel against his calloused fingers. No matter how long he’ll wait, he will get out of there, and apologize to everyone.
Especially George and Sapnap.
A month passes, Dream eating all of the bread he had originally saved for George. It was going bad, and the last thing he needed was mold in this room. Luckily the flowers bloomed a little more, and Dream recently asked for water just to let them grow. They were Dream’s favorites, yellow dandelions. Dream’s face flushes at George’s voice, comparing his green hoodie to the petals of the flower. Dream’s eyelashes flit as he imagines George’s hand cupped to his cheek, the pretty man’s face close to his own. Dream’s eye bags weigh on his facial features, and he would kill anyone on this SMP to have moments with George like singing each other to sleep, star-gazing on someone’s roof, having secret picnic dates when nobody is awake, or even just walking next to each other down the path. He sits on the insulting floor, dragging his knees up to his face and buries in the dark of himself, dozing off and yearning any interactions with George in the possible future.
Three total months have passed, leaving Dream almost thought out with his full plan. He lays on his uncomfortable bed, throwing a piece of bread up and down trying to entertain himself any way possible. He throws it up one last time and catches it with his mouth, chewing monotonically and swallowing with his throat numb. He feels like his taste buds have given up on him and he turns his head to the lava, willing to try escaping again. Trial and error has given Dream ambition for upcoming time. It used to be error, error, error. None of his actions seemed to have a meaning. Dream sits up and walks over to the lava, inhaling the searing smell. He hears the faint buzz of the empty room and stands for a second, feeling like his soul just left his body a little bit more. Then there’s a faint talking. Not of one, but two people. Dream blinks, bringing his head up and stepping back from the lava. He hears a loving accent he hasn’t recognized in a while but feels like his ears are manipulating him. Both of the voices die off for a second.
“Yeah, he should be awake. You can visit him. Limited time, though.”
Dream’s lips part, head thumping. He hears the other beautiful accent respond, and he runs around checking his outfit as if he could change it. Dream speedwalks to a book on his shelf and searches for a specific page. He scrolls and finds it, carefully ripping it out of the book. His eyes dart all over the paper, double and triple checking that everything was perfect. His drawing of George had to be perfect. All of a sudden a sound of splashing water causes Dream to freeze like a deer in headlights. His back makes him shiver and his stomach feels nauseous despite all the boring bread he’s eaten. The silence eats him up so he turns around, his eyes instantaneously attract the brown-sepia set of eyes across from him.
“George..”
George smiles, Dream noticing the strain in his face. Dream holds the piece of paper, staring at the british man longer than he can remember.
“Hey.”
George’s voice hugs Dream’s entire body, like a comforting shield.
“Hello.”
Dream smiles, his voice rising. He can almost see Sapnap behind him, Bad and Skeppy fighting about something, Karl laughing with Quackity, Tommy & Tubbo disobeying Philza. The nostalgia chokes on his throat. His smile trembles, holding back any crying.
“What.. What are you holding?”
Dream’s eyes widen. “Let me show you- Uhh, wait-” He holds a finger out and runs over to the flowers, warily plucking the stems from the corner, and runs back closer to George, handing out his gifts. George looks down and takes them, staying silent. “They’re uh- dandelions. Remember when you put your colorblind glasses on, and-” “Yeah.” George interrupts Dream, flipping the paper back and forth. Dream’s heart cracks. George usually interrupted him, but the times where he wanted to tell a story with just the two of them was the most important, and most damaging. After seconds of more silence, George scoffs lightly and looks up at Dream. “Sorry, I was just looking at this horrible drawing of me. When did you think I looked like this?” George giggling afterwards. Dream’s blush brightens to the tip of his ears all over his freckled face and he slowly puts a hand behind his neck to try to itch whatever embarrassment was stuck onto him. He looks at the upside down drawing and at him, switching back and forth. “Well, you know I’m not the best at Art. And that’s from memory, look-” Dream starts, pointing to the said-nose of the drawing. “That kind of looks like your nose.” George makes a noise of disagreement in return. “Then your eyes, and goggles, the hair is actually pretty bad, and then-” he stops at the lips, slowly glancing at George’s. George looks up and blinks, not registering the message. Dream smiles, always thinking his innocent parts were adorable. He raises a hand behind George’s ear and pushes away some of his soft hair, leaning in and kissing him.
George makes another noise. Dream ignores it, wrapping his arms around George’s chest and pulling him in, savoring every millisecond. It seems like it’s been years since Dream can have his lover in his arms. George shakes his head slightly and pushes away, out of breath. Dream looks at George finally and notices the discomfort in his face. “What?” Dream asks, voice low. “Sorry, I-” George breaks the contact. “I can’t.” Dream’s face turns ghost-white, and George notices, tears instantly streaming down his face. Dream almost wants to smile, almost wants to believe this is some stupid joke, almost wants to just kiss George again, bringing him back in forever. But he doesn’t. All he wants are answers. “Can’t what?” Dream voices harshly. After all Dream had done for him, all Dream was going to do for him, this is what bounced back in return?
“I ca- I can’t- We can’t..” George stutters, seeming so hesitant to just spit out the words. “Say it. Just say it already.” Dream’s hands tremor. George looks at the flower and paper in his hands and sobs, inhaling the tension surrounding the two. Dream’s heart wanted to comfort George, like how his voice comforted him. His emotions drove him mad, and so did George. “I did so much. I did it all for you , George.” Dream’s mouth feels numb saying it. He thought George was the only one that trusted and actually liked him. Not even Sapnap could compare, because he wasn’t the reason Dream woke up in the morning. He wasn’t the one person to bring out his soft and loving side. Yet the person who was all of that is standing with Dream right now, making Dream lose yet another relationship and possible friendship.
He hears George scoff, sternly this time. “ What did you do for me? Dethrone me? That was for me, really? Or what about abandoning us? Do you want to ask the Community House?!” George yelled, fingers digging into the soft petals and grainy paper. “I dethroned you to protect you! Everyone was against you, you couldn’t stay neutral for one second-” Dream raises his voice, throwing his arms in the air of frustration.
“Then why did you make me king in the first place? Out of your own self-interest? Do you like breaking people down, Dream?”
Dream looks away from George, becoming sick of the man he’s loved for many years.
“ Do you?! ”
Dream’s eyes squeeze shut, hating all of this. Hating George screaming, hating the memories of his manipulation, hating the thoughts in his head.
“...Is anyone going to save me?” Dream almost whispers calmly.
“Do I deserve to die here, George?”
George’s chest stops rising and stays still for a little. Dream could fight later, when he had infinite time to, when he had the upper hand by killing and annoying him until the argument ended, when they both had the patience for each other's inputs.
George swallowed and closed his eyes. “I hate how you’re stuck in here, how you’ve changed so much. And I would-” he pauses. “I would help you. But I can’t, and shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be forgiving you like this, and just forget about you as a person--”
“What?” Dream asks, now feeling that same stinging in his eyes George has been feeling. “ Forget about me?” George looked up at Dream with a truthful regret. “George, seriously ?” Dream’s vision gets blurry, tears rolling down constantly.
A banging sound comes from the top, causing the two to jump. “Forget it. Thank you for the gifts,” George wipes his face and sarcastically smiles. Dream’s mind short-circuits on anything else to say without completely overflowing in confessions. George grabs one of Dream’s frigid hands and places something in the palm. “Here.” Dream just stares at George until he walks away into the water and at the blink of an eye, he disappears. Dream looks at his hand, and tears drop onto the piece of lapis, the blue shine reminding him again of the man he fell for.
Five months finally have passed, a dirty-blonde haired man with sickly paris-green eyes looks back at Dream. He drops his head down onto the cauldron and reaches his hand into it, digging into a man-made compartment and grabbing the piece of lapis he obtained from his friend two months ago. No one had visited since besides Tommy asking for daily books. Dream didn’t know why he bothered, why this couldn’t be enough for him. He grips on the lapis harder, knowing this was his doing. It enraged how this jail he had built himself was taking this much of a toll on him. The cold stone sits in Dream’s palm, reminding him how bitter his heart was. The sound of splashing water startles Dream so much he drops the lapis. He looks over in fear and sees a white and red t-shirt. He then rolls his eyes slightly and walks over to his books. “Hello, Tommy.” The tedium in Dream’s voice bouncing around the walls. “‘Ello Dream. I’ve noticed your books are getting boring, almost fake. Why is that?” Tommy cuts to the chase, hinting some irritation in the sentences. “I just haven’t done anything. What else do I write about?”
Dream reads each title on the side cover of each book slowly, stalling to find the right one. “Well atleast make it sound interesting. The people are getting bored out there.” Tommy says, crossing his arms and looking around the cell as if he hasn’t been here before. A shimmer catches his eye and he looks on the ground to find the blue stone. “What’s that?” Tommy says, Dream instantly knowing what he’s referring to. Dream’s hand grabs the right book and steps over the lapis, praying he was just talking about the flowers in the corner or the messy blankets on the bed. “What was what?” Dream says with the last amount of confidence he has. It doesn’t work on Tommy, though. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, prick.” Tommy practically stomps toward Dream. Dream backs up, staring into Tommy’s grey eyes. He remembers when they were blue, charged with dignity and glee, and when he watched the color drain into the pupils, slowly breaking him mentally. His terrified face gave Dream satisfaction, and he despised it. He despises himself.
Tommy kicks Dream’s ankles, causing him to fall over and impact on the ground. Dream’s grunt knocks the air out of him, and Tommy looks at the innocent stone again, this time bending down and picking it up with it slipping perfectly into his hands. Dream looks up and opens his mouth, but his stomach halts him from making a sound. Tommy chuckles and turns the stone around, studying the stone’s entirety. “When did you get this?” Tommy asks, not even looking at Dream. Dream struggles to breathe, trying to bring himself up to sit. His arms shake tremendously, and he realizes just how weak he’s become. Tommy huffs impatiently and turns to Dream’s feeble body. “Come on then, answer me bitch boy.” Tommy kicks Dream’s stomach and tilts his head down. Dream coughs and rolls back over, inhaling through his gritted teeth in pain. He gets a sliver of adrenaline and sits up, breathing normally again. His whole lower body aches, similar to his heart. Dream feels Tommy’s threatening aura and looks up at him. “George gave that to me, a while ago. As a present. Please-” Dream lifts himself up with one hand and tries to grab the stone with the other out of instinct. Tommy raises his hand, barely high enough for Dream to grab it and holds a shocked look on his face. “The fuck- You think you’re getting this back?!” Tommy yells, the sound being numb to Dream’s ears.
Dream sits back down, his chest feeling as if a Wither Rose started growing and vines tightened around his lungs. Tommy looks down at Dream’s deadened face and feels unamused. He puts the stone in his loose pocket and kicks Dream in the chest, pushing him to the back wall. Dream’s torso shoots pain everywhere and he coughs out blood, quickly losing his vision and feeling light-headed. Tommy shakes off his shoe, trying to get the blood off, and scoffs in disgust. “Fuckin’ hell, you got blood on my shoe. You’re a real dick, ya’know that?” Tommy says, bending down to level with Dream. Dream looks at his health bar, a heart and a half bouncing happily. He looks at the floor, wanting to become invisible and seep into the purple, never feeling this amount of pain again. “I know.” Dream whispers, his voice box feeling like it’s going to split in two. “Do you? Why don’t you put your stuff in the hole again?” Tommy looks at Dream’s eyes, gazing into the little bit of color Dream has left. He smiles and slaps Dream out of entertainment, snapping him out of whatever he was thinking. “So what do we do about this stone, eh? Looks pretty fuckin’ ugly to me.” Tommy grabs it out of his pocket, showcasing it inches away from Dream’s face. Dream’s eyes strain from the blue. “It isn’t ugly.” Dream says, shaming himself for defending a stone out of all things. Not only a stone, a stone that George gave him.
Even after all this time, George was persistently in his mind. He could forgive him a million times or until his voice stopped working. He was willing to change himself completely, go back to before he got consumed. Anything for his friends. Anything for George.
“No, I’m pretty sure it is. ‘Mind me showing the others and asking them?” Tommy teases, standing up and swinging the stone with his fingers.
“Please don’t-” Dream coughs again.
Tommy looks down at Dream who was still struggling to get up. “Why are you still trying?”
“I just really like the gift, so please? I’ll write good books- The best books. Hell, I’ll write a whole novel.” Dream chuckles at his own comment and looks up at Tommy. “It’s harmless.. Just one gift. It’s all I ask.” He pleads out for the last time. Tommy inhales, loosening up his anger.
“Alright Dream. One gift.”
Dream’s eyebrows raise and he smirks slightly. “Really? I- Thank you.”
Dream raises his hand, waiting to have the stone back in his hands, waiting to have George’s last scrap of love in his hands. Tommy doesn’t let go of the stone and tuts. “Hold on Dream, I got it dirty, one second.” Dream nods his head obediently, looking around on the ground waiting. He finds a piece of bread and eats it, attempting to bring up his hunger and health. He watches Tommy try cleaning it with his shirt. Eventually, he dramatically shakes his head. “Hold on Dream, close your eyes.” Dream blinks and tilts his head in confusion, feeling his hearts rise up slowly. Tommy stares at him with a Do it or I’m changing my mind look and Dream puts his hands over his eyes. He feels this is immature in a way, but he would figure since Tommy is only a teenager. He would do any immature act, or sing, or dance to just feel the stone in his hands. Dream smiles, knowing the stone will be in his hand any second now, suddenly feeling sentimental.
“Thank you again, Tommy. I promise I’ll be nice again, that stone just means a lot to me, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah. You can look now.”
Dream opens his eyes and moves his hands from his face, not seeing the stone, but instead seeing Tommy holding it and looking at the wall. Tommy brings his arm back with the stone and looks at Dream, knowing he knows what next action he’ll do. Dream’s heart drops. He gasps and jumps up, extending his arm to try to stop Tommy.
“NO, PLEASE-”
Tommy throws the stone at the wall like throwing a baseball, and it shatters into hundreds of pieces. Dream’s arm wraps around Tommy’s shoulder, Tommy quickly pushing him off and laughing. Dream’s surroundings become quiet and insensible. He collapses onto the ground, looking at each broken piece of the stone, like each broken piece that led up to him and George’s parting of ways. He remembers how the stone fit so perfectly into Tommy’s hand and not his, like they were never really meant to be after all. He remembers just now hearing the devastating sound of the stone fracturing against the wall, like the devastating sound of George’s breaking voice as he screamed at him.
“Don’t ever disobey me again.”
Tommy scolds, kicking him one final time. He starts ranting and walking away, but Dream can’t hear. Everything around him feels empty, like he’s in another world. Dream closes his eyes and sits with the pain. He feels hopeless for a second, and he whispers thoughts in his brain continuously until they become screaming. Thoughts of really ending it, thoughts of murdering all his friends, thoughts of how much of a horrible person he really is. His ears start ringing. Dream lowers his head to what feels like the ground and screams. Screams so loud for so long. He screams until his throat burns. He screams, thinking if he made loud enough noise, someone could reach for him and have the tiniest bit of sympathy. Then he blinks and sees the lava in front of him.
He feels the smoky scent in the top of his mouth and feels all of his limbs again. He breathes out and looks around for Tommy who’s gone. Dream feels the warmth of the lava massage his shoulders and lay him down, feeling sore and tired. He closes his eyes and gets one thought and one thought only.
He was escaping this place, whether people liked it or not.
The next day arrives, Dream waking up and remembering the promise he gave himself. He swings his legs over the bed and ignores the blue shards on the ground, grabbing every piece of bread lying around the room. He searches in his chest for anything to protect him. He stares in disappointment at the seeds and dirt laying subtly at the bottom of the chest. Dream rubs his hand against the leather inner-walls and feels a corner sticking out, scratching his finger. Dream takes notice and starts peeling the leather off easily until it peels into a patch. He grabs it in his hand until it vanishes, and appears in his inventory as one piece of leather. Dream’s brain cogs and suddenly dings. He grabs the chest and picks at the old leather, ripping off patches until all the leather is gone. He looks in his inventory once more. Fifteen pieces of leather. Dream throws all his pieces onto the crafting table, instantly making a leather chestplate and leggings. He holds the chestplate in front of him, grabbing it in glory. He puts the armor on and checks the defense bars it gives him. Two and a half. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely better than nothing. Dream had been calculating all the chances without armor, making the percentages low. Dream smiles and feels the bread in his other hands. He frowns, knowing this will probably not be enough. He takes off his armor and hides it in his chest that nobody looks through anymore and walks to the lava, calling out Sam’s name. He hears Sam talking with somebody else, sounding like Bad. He calls his name out several times.
“Oh my g- What Dream?! What do you want?”
“Can I please have a Steak today? I’ve been good~” Dream calls out, smiling widely. He hears Sam sigh and walking noises fading out. Dream jumps up and runs to the cauldron, splashing water on himself and rolling on the ground to get any grime on his clothes. He sits down dramatically and starts breathing fast. He sees Sam jump down, splashing water, and begins his act.
“SAM! Oh my god, you’re a life-saver.” Dream yells and starts tearing up. “I haven’t had steak in so long, I..” He pauses, choking exaggeratingly on his purposeful tears. “Thank you so much. Please.. Help me.” His croaky voice begs.
Sam looks down at him holding his Trident a bit confused, but throws a piece of steak on the ground anyway. “You’re acting like I’ve been starving you.” He rolls his eyes. “Also,” Dream looks up at him with the most innocent eyes you can imagine. “I’m going with Bad somewhere, so if anyone visits, tell me.”
Dream nods his head and starts biting into the steak but not fully taking pieces and eating it. Sam walks away and leaves, not giving Dream any room to say anything back. Dream stops pretending to eat the steak and shakes himself off a bit. He runs back to the lava, hearing Sam and Bad walk away talking. He waits for a few minutes, to really make sure if this is happening. Sure he was so excited to leave, but what happened when he did ? He can’t hide forever, and it’ll only be a matter of time before someone finds him. Atleast, he couldn’t do all this by himself . That’s where he wanted George. Again, the annoying brown-haired pretty man had to be infecting his mind. All Dream wanted to do was run away with him, together forever. After probably ten minutes, he looks at the lava with determined eyes and stands up to get his armor on.
Dream stands at his enemy head-on, holding food in both hands. He made a theory that the lava should only be two blocks thick, considering how well he can hear people outside of it. He steps backwards, ready to get some momentum. Finally, looking one last time at the lava, he runs forward, pushing all of his energy and soul into the speed. If he didn’t make it, this would be it. This would be the end, before he dies or gets saved by anyone else. Dream shuts his eyes and jumps into the lava, instantly taking more hearts than he thought he would. He keeps his eyes closed and eats the steak quickly, then the bread. The sizzling liquid starts melting the armor off, taking more hearts to Dream. Dream eats his last piece of bread and pushes both of his arms in a stroke, his hand poking out of the lava and eventually his whole body pushes out.
Dream falls on the grass, still feeling the fire eat at him. He sits up and looks at his hearts declining. “No, no, no no no no-” Dream looks at the ground and waits, not able to do anything but let the fire die out. It doesn’t. Dream doesn’t look up and gets more anxious with each hit on him. He gets down to three hearts, then two. “PLEASE.” Dream yells, already giving up and accepting his death. Suddenly he feels a cold, welcoming feeling of water pour on him. Dream opens his eyes, gasping for air. He looks up and sees the very man of his dreams holding a water bucket. His brown hair wavers in the wind and his blue shirt reminds Dream of the gifted stone. Dream’s eyes glow green again.
“George!” He yells, and jumps up to hug George tightly. George accepts the hug, not saying anything back. Dream smiles and buries his head in George’s neck. He laughs and doesn’t realize how fast he starts to cry. George and Dream both lower to sit on the ground in sync. Silence comes from George.
“George, you came to visit me? Again? I’m so glad, and on a perfect day too! Look, I escaped. I was thinking we could escape together, just the two of us. What do you think? Ah, I had some bread for you but I ate it all. Sorry about that. Maybe you don’t even like bread? That’s all I’ve been eating. Hey, guess how I got out of this place.”
“...”
Dream’s heart races at the touch of George’s body and he can’t stop ranting.
“That’s okay, I’ll tell you later! God, I’m so happy you’re here, really. I love you George, I love you, I love you, I love you. I can’t stop loving you. Was it for you too?”
“...”
Dream wipes his tears.
“...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I know I’ve given you so much trouble, but this time I fucking promise . I’ll never treat you wrong again.”
Dream hears George sniffle.
“... Do you love me, George? Would you also be willing to die in my arms, knowing our bond was unbreakable?”
George takes Dream’s shoulder and holds him in front of George, mouth shut closed. Dream smiles, seeming to understand George.
“That’s okay, we can talk about it later..! Let’s g-”
George pulls Dream and kisses him, so rough and sudden. Dream blinks but kisses him back, loving his tender lips being so wild. Dream feels both of George’s palms cup Dream’s cheeks, taking control of him more. Their mouths taste like tears and hurt. Dream feels one of George’s hands let go of his face. Dream opens his eyes to look at George again, his stunning face even when crying. He looks down and sees George grabbing something from behind his back.
George then impales Dream with a Netherite Sword, letting go of Dream’s face and sobbing. Dream gasps and looks ahead, his colorful eyes completely draining the hopeful viridian George so used to love. Dream’s dead body becomes stiff and pushes against George’s living one. George yanks his Netherite Sword out and weeps loudly. He feels Dream’s soul leave his body for the third and last time as the love of his life is now lost.
“I love you, Dream.”