Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Green probably wasn’t the best color to wear while being chased through a city. But it was part of him, just as inherent to his identity as the mask on his face and the large axe slung across his back. Green was the color of the grass he slept on at night, the leaves that sheltered him during the day, the eyes that stared back at him in rivers. Green was the color of safety, of familiarity. It had always protected him in the forests where he was no more than a blur between trees.

Now, as stonebrick walls soared high into the sky, it only painted a target on his back. He ducked as an arrow wizzed over his head, its colored flights dragging a trail of blue behind it. He didn’t need to turn around to know who pursued him. Only one hunter was fierce enough, determined enough, and knew him well enough to keep up with him. Funny, considering that they’ve never really had a proper conversation.

“OH DREEEEEEEEEEEAAMMMMMM!”

The hunter called, and his heart lurched. Whether it was out of fear or something else he didn’t know. Unable to help himself, he tipped his head up and yelled back.

“OH GEOOOORRRGEEEEEEEE!”

That elicited a devilish giggle from his pursuer, and he nearly forgot himself and giggled back. Then an arrow grazed his upper arm, carving out a line of flesh. The flash of burning pain instantly knocked him out of his revelry. Several more arrows whizzed by him and he remembered: it wasn’t just him and George anymore. They were in the city, and this was George’s territory. The dozen or so city guards that had joined him in the hunt let out a cheer as Dream visibly stumbled.

In the corner of his eyes, he caught a flash of purple, the odd splash of color contrasting sharply with the uniform grey.

He needed to get back into an environment where he had an advantage. Up ahead was a sagging building, covered in scaffolding and hanging ropes. He caught a horizontal rung of scaffolding in his hands, pulling himself up. Among familiar territory now, he pulled himself higher and higher, scaling the dilapidated house.

Each movement pulled at the yawning cut in his upper arm, drawing a trickle of blood through the fabric of his sweater. He ignored the pain and perched himself on a wooden plank that jutted out over the street, feeling a brief rush of triumph when George and his entourage halted at the base of the structure, unsure how to proceed. One of them tried to climb up after him, but fell when the thin beams of scaffolding broke under their armored weight.

He grinned. If they had been in a forest George would’ve set fire to the tree he was in, but they were in a city now. They wouldn’t burn a building, would they?

The stench of smoke hit his nose. They would.

In a flash, Dream was off again. He flew across narrow beams of scaffolding, crossing the length of the building before the smoke and flames could get him. The buildings adjacent to it shot high up into the air, leaving him at a sheer wall-face impossible for him to run along. He grit his teeth at his misfortune and began his descent, hoping that dropping to the ground again wouldn’t cost him his lead. As his feet hit the cobblestone streets again, he cast a quick glance behind him. George was still on his tail, but several guards had been left behind, trying to put out the fire they’d started as the residents living nearby screamed at them. He turned a corner, and there it was again- a flash of yellow this time.

A busy market loomed ahead of him. He dove into the crowd, hoping to lose his hunters in the chaos. People hollered at him as he ran past, several of them lobbing stuff at him that he easily dodged. They didn’t seem particularly irked; it was as if chases like this happened on the daily.

A flash of red. His eyes darted between the stands, and he caught sight of a girl keeping pace with him, roses trailing from her hair. He nearly tripped on a sack of potatoes when she locked eyes with him. Then a cart passed between them and she was gone.

What was going on? Was she also part of the pack of hunters after him? Or a free agent, just looking out for an easy target to grab? Unlike George and the guards, he felt a slight sense of unease about her. Her eyes held a spark of cunningness and wit within them that his hunters sorely lacked, marking her as a potentially dangerous opponent.

With his mind so preoccupied, he didn’t even notice that he’d slid into a dead-end alleyway until he was nearly all the way down the full length of it. Immediately he turned tail, hoping to rush out before George and the others caught up to him, but it was too late. George rushed to the mouth of the alleyway, his entourage fanning out to block the entrance behind him.

“Ohhhhh DREAM!” George cried triumphantly as he caught sight of him. He put away his bow, swapping out for a sword as they advanced on him. “You’re DEAD! YOU’RE SO DEAD!”

Dream only stayed silent, mind working furiously for an escape route. The walls were too steep for him to scale, and towering up was dangerous when George had a bow. Could he take a one v six? None of the guards had shields, so if he charged George and disabled his shield, then he could-

“Yeeeeeeeeew!” A wild whoop rang out above him. He heard the whistle of a fireball and threw his shield up just in time. A concussive wave of air slammed into the battered wood, throwing him back. His only warning of a person coming behind him was a flash of black and silver and he turned, expecting an attacker. Instead, they vaulted right over him.

“Yah!” The guy plunged his short sword into the chest of the nearest guard, his long jacket flying behind him. “Dramatic entrance, done!” He turned and knocked two other guards away, engaging both in a furious one-on-two duel. When he briefly looked over his shoulder, Dream caught sight of an odd pair of mismatched eyes, one red and the other yellow. They clashed horribly with his black and white hair. “Hey, get over here guys, I can’t handle a one v four!” 

With a chorus of cries, three teenagers came hurtling out of the smoke. One in a purple sweater, another in a yellow blazer, and the girl with red roses in her hair. That explained the colors he was seeing earlier.

“Who are these people?” George cried out in alarm.

Dream couldn’t help but agree with him, but he wasn’t going to let such an opportunity go to waste. He slammed his shield into him, knocking the smaller player to the ground. Before he could scramble back to his feet, Dream pinned him down with a knee, leaning down to whisper into his ear. “Better luck next time Georgie!”

He briefly saw the tips of the hunter’s ears turn pink before he brought his axe down on his neck, dispersing him into puffs of smoke.

Around him, the remaining guards dropped like flies, leaving behind various floating items. The teens immediately converged on the dropped loot in the alleyway.

“Dibs on the gold!” the girl with flowers screeched.

“Dudeeee, this guy had like, eighteen emeralds on him!” The boy in purple triumphantly held up two fistfuls of the gem. “What’s a mans gotta do with that many emeralds?”

“Bruh, save me some!” A call came from above, revealing the presence of the kid who must’ve thrown the fireball.

The teen in the blazer snatched up a discarded iron sword. “Sweet, someone dropped their sword, it’s mine now!” He jammed the tip of it between two flagstones and snapped the end off so it was straight-edged instead of narrowing to a point.

The man in the silver and black jacket watched them split their winnings amongst themselves, a look of amusement on his face. He stood slightly apart from the group, arms crossed, partially turned away from Dream. A silver dragon was etched into the back of his armor-plated jacket. 

It was a bold move to turn your back on a potential enemy, but Dream could tell that it was nothing but calculated. It betrayed his position in the group; he was clearly their leader, older and more mature than the others as to not be drawn to squabbling for loot. He turned his mismatched gaze on Dream. “You fight weird.”

Dream dropped into a crouch, holding his axe defensively in front of him.

“Whoa dude, calm down.” The guy put his hands out in a placating gesture. He sounded slightly patronizing, as if mocking his visceral reaction to strangers. “We literally just saved your life back there, no need to be so jumpy. A thank you would be greatly appreciated, and maybe your name as well.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, lowering the axe but not putting it away, “I’m Dream.”

“Dream what?” the guy asked, “Dreamwastaken, Dreamboat, DreamBoy80, xX_Dream_Xx?”

“What?” He couldn’t help but gape at him as an odd string of sounds came out of his mouth. “How did you even manage to say that out loud?”

“Never mind how I said that.” The guy flipped his two-colored hair. “There’s no way you’ve got that siccck og name.”

He couldn’t tell if the man was mocking him again; the tone of voice suggested both sarcasm and genuine astonishment.

“I’m just Dream.” He let the revelation fall. Let them make of it what they will. Speedrunner, dragonslayer; hero, villain, he’d heard it all. He maintained an air of nonchalance behind the mask, while his eyes darted rapidly across their exposed faces, analyzing each and every change in expression. His fingers tapped urgently against the handle of his axe, the only indication of the wild anxiety running through him. Maybe they wouldn’t know. He’d prefer it if they didn’t. Fame and notoriety had its benefits, but it also had its dangers. They might just laugh at him in disbelief, or he might’ve just signed his death warrant. People tended to have wildly different reactions.

“Wait.” The girl nearly dropped all the gold she was holding. “Oh my god, did we just save the real Dream? I thought he was just another one of those imposters?”

Their leader raised an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me you’re like, the real deal.” When Dream didn’t reply, he drove his sword into the ground and leaned on it casually. “You know, when I heard rumors that the star of Minecraft’s biggest manhunt was coming to Hypixel, I couldn’t believe it. There was simply no way the guy who’d outsmarted four hunters no less would come here, of all places. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid.” He rolled his eyes in a dramatic arc before flicking them back at him again. “Guess not.”

No hostility, just condescending disbelief. Part of Dream wished they’d just attacked him already. Swords he could take, but words and judging glares he couldn’t for the life of him escape. “Look, I’ve got better things to do than stand here all day and get mocked by you. Thank you for fighting off my hunters, but I’ll just be going now.” He took a step back and quickly began walking away. 

“You’re here to break his bed,” the man with mismatched eyes said.

The words stopped him in his tracks. “Yes.”

“You’re gonna need a bit of help with that, especially since you’re a non.”

He whirled around. “What did you call me?”

“Non.” The man crossed his arms, casually shifting his weight to one foot. “Non-donator, if paying huge sums of money for extra perks is considered ‘donating.’ You don’t have a rank, you’ve got no bed, no respawns, left to a single life just like the rest of us.”

“Yes.” He grit his teeth. If he had the luxury of respawning, his life would’ve been so much easier. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I knew it!” the man exclaimed, “I knew there was a head behind that smiley face of yours!” He pushed his lips into a smile with his fingers. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

What was this guy’s deal? He couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine, nor could he gauge his intentions towards him. Fighting off the hunters would put him down as a potential ally in his books, but his instincts kept screaming danger in his presence. Something was uncanny about the way the light hit his eyes, and his teeth were unnaturally sharp, not just in the metaphorical aspect. “You just told me I was stupid to come here.” 

“Oh, not Hypixel.” He flung his arms out dramatically at the group of teens gathered behind him. “Nolife! The best bed-breaking guild in the city.” He stuck out a hand, “Name’s Bamerboy- sorry, Gamerboy80, sometimes the sarcasm really gets the better of me.” He gestured to the three kids behind him in turn. “And this is Purpled, Chazm, and Hannah.” 

“And Wallibear up here!” Dream looked up to see a third boy waving at him from a rooftop.

“Hi!” Purpled waved excitedly at him.

Hannah just gave him a look, similar to the one she gave him in the market, except this time with more disbelief.

The kid named Chazm seemed more preoccupied with his new sword than him.

Dream cautiously took Eighty’s proffered hand and shook it. “So you and your gang are offering to help me.”

“Um, we’re not a gang, we’ve a guild, there’s a difference.” Eighty whined, sounding both mocking and offended at the same time. “But yeah, you need that filthy hunter of yours out of the way, and we need a distraction. With every guard in the city looking for you now, no one’ll pay attention when we sneak into some ranked kid’s house and break their bed.” He eyed the ragged tear in his hoodie and the blood soaking the green fabric. “ ‘sides, you look like you could do with some help. The streets of Hypixel ain’t trees, Tarzan.”

His guild began to gather behind him, a clear sign that they were leaving.

He jerked his head. “We’ve got a base up on the rooftops. Wanna tag along? We promise we won’t kill you.” Eighty’s eyes flashed at his words. “As long as you promise to not kill us.”

The idea of allies was alluring. Dream didn’t know a single soul here, while George had the entire city on his side. He needed people he could trust, people to watch his back and teach him the ways of the city. He swept his eyes over the Nolife members again. Eighty waited patiently for his answer, Hannah tried to not look too hopeful, and the Purpled kid kept grinning at him.

Dream was an optimist. He believed in too many people, and too many people had betrayed him. Yet he kept on believing. 

He tipped his head in agreement. “Promise.”

Chapter Text

“Promise.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth when a cheer went up from the Nolife teens.

“YES!” Purpled turned around and hi-fived Chazm. “We’ve got Dream! We’ve got Dream!” The two of them jumped up and down, smacking each other on the back.

“Alriiiiiight,” Hannah drew out, still sounding slightly unbelieving at the turn of events. “Good stuff, good stuff,” she nodded.

Eighty broke out into a grin. “Great.” There was something akin to relief in his eyes. Dream felt the same way, neither of them had wanted to make the other an enemy. “Got any blocks?”

The urge to impress fell over him. This always happened whenever he met new people. Dream dug into his inventory, pulling out a stack of blocks, “Do leaves work?”

“Oh, smarrrrt.” The guild leader nodded approvingly, and Dream felt the urge to preen. “Makes it easy to spleef people. Too bad there’s no trees ‘round these parts.” He tossed him a stack of blocks. “Save it. In Hypixel, we use wool.”

He trailed after the group of teenagers as they sprinted to the back of the alleyway and began towering up. The kid who’d thrown the fireball- Wallibear- waited till they reached where he had been perched on a roof to join them. He put out his fist. “Welcome to da club Mister Dream!”

Dream stared at it for a long moment before realizing it was meant to be a fist bump. “Uh, thanks for having me,” he muttered awkwardly, returning the fist bump.

“Bap!” the teen yelled, before running off to pester Purpled and Hannah for their loot.

The city slowly fell away under him as they towered up. The alleyway shrunk, disappearing under the roofs of other buildings that crowded around it. The building that they were towering up against only continued higher, higher, and higher. 

His shoulders began to hurt from hunching over and placing blocks beneath his feet. He straightened, pressing his palms into the arch of his back to pop his vertebrae back into place. He tipped his head upwards and saw that the top was still very far up. This wouldn’t do. Taking a running leap off his block stack, he began placing blocks along the side of the building as he ran, zigzagging his way up. He flew by the kids on their individual block stacks, drawing a chorus of Oohs and Aahs.

“This man be showing off!” Walli exclaimed as he passed him. There was the sound of a fireball exploding, then a wild whoop as the teen got launched several stories up. He block-clutched on the side of the building. “OHHHHHH! PLAY OF THE CENTURY!”

“Dude, you almost killed me!” Purpled exclaimed, hurriedly scrambling away from the smoldering remains of his block stack. “What the heck man?”

“Sorry brother.” Walli saluted from his perch. “But Wallibear can’t get outplayed!”

For a group of competitive teenagers with no sense of self-preservation, that was a poor choice in words.

“Race you to the top!” Chazm yelled, boosting himself up to a window ledge and beginning to jump from ledge to ledge.

“Hey!” Hannah shrieked as Purpled tried to knock her off her block stack, before immediately smacking him off with the flat side of her sword, “Get your own blocks!”

Eighty simply pearled out of the way the instant Purpled came after him.

Dream reached the top of the roof, grabbing on to the rim and swinging himself up. From his vantage point, he looked on in horror as Nolife battled it out below him, unable to tear himself away in fear that he’d look away for a moment only to watch someone plummet into the void. Yet none of them did. The moment one was knocked from their perch, they would catch themselves along the wall a couple of blocks down, or enderpearl if they’d fallen too far. It was as if they were born to race amongst the sky, running along rooftops and leaping from their precarious towers of wool.

One by one, they pulled themselves up beside him. Eighty came first, then Chazm, then Hannah, and then Purpled and Wallibear at the same time, still duking it out.

He watched with curiosity as Chazm took a flint and steel and lit their towers of wool on fire. The flames instantly ate up flammable material, puffing out into smoke and erasing all traces of their ascent. So that was why they used wool. Leaves burned as well, they just had a tendency to catch other things on fire. Like buildings.

Dream poked his head over the edge to watch the rest of the wool burn, only to jerk backwards when an intense wave of vertigo hit. His arms wobbled, threatening to give out and send him pitching forward into the void. The world swam dizzily below him.

He hated, hated heights. But the world didn’t know, and it was better to keep it that way. He shakily got to his feet, feeling his sense of nausea vanish as he slowly steadied himself. The haze cleared, and suddenly, the entire city spread out below him.

Hypixel had been built in the rough shape of a circle, with the oldest buildings at the center and streets expanding ever outwards. A series of concentric walls encircled the city, each marking the city limits before yet another expansion. They told the story of an ancient city founded in the early days of the world, surviving and thriving through each subsequent update.

With each update however, the denizens continued to build upwards as well as out. Buildings piled on top of each other, starting from basic cobblestone foundations that were once Alpha houses, to cabins constructed out of wooden planks, to andesite and granite, and finally to stripped logs and rare Nether woods that were now available in the current state of the world. What resulted were bizarre towers of mismatched materials and architectural styles, spiraling up from the earth to scrape the sky itself. Newer streets and bridges ran between them like branches of some great tree, creating a labyrinthine structure of overpasses and skyways. As the city expanded outwards, the height of the towers sloped gently downwards as they reached the newer areas. The current set of walls stretched off into the distance, forming a dark line against the horizon.

“That’s the old Blitz arena,” Eighty said, pointing at the large, circular nest of stone that disrupted the forest of towers, “Used to be popular back in the day for blood sports, but now it’s mostly abandoned.” He shifted his arm. “See those floating islands around the walls?”

Dream nodded. A haze of floating islands cluttered the air over the outer rings of the city, orbiting the city center like an asteroid belt around a star.

“Those are the Skyblock islands,” Eighty explained, a sour expression on his face, “That’s where all of Hypixel’s food and other commodity items are farmed, but the players there are nothin’ but a bunch of scammers.” Then he turned and pointed at the collection of floating islands closer to the center of the city. “Those are for the Skywars islands. Modern bloodsports after Blitz went out of style. Wouldn’t suggest walking under them, it rains men over there.”

“It’s rainin’ men!” Walli sang, spinning around, “Hallelujah! It’s rainin’ men!” Then his voice dropped. “Let the bodies hit the floor!” he chanted, Purpled joining in, “Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor!”

Eighty shook his head at their shenanigans. “Rule of thumb, avoid walking on the lower streets as much as you can. That’s where all the guards are, and the closer to the center of the city you get, the more sketchy it is. It’s fine in the outer edges where all the newer stuff is and they haven’t started building up yet, but in the center, stick to the upper towers. Everything underneath is abandoned and has been that way since Alpha.”

“Got it.” Dream nodded. It seemed like the city was a giant cone, with the inhabitants living on the surface and abandoning the center.

Eighty waved for him to follow, signaling that they hadn’t reached their destination yet. Dream trailed after him to the edge of the tower, wondering how they were going to cross the chasm to the next, when Chazm (ha) threw himself onto the low wall encircling the roof and began to bridge. Repeatedly crouching and uncrouching, he spanned the gap in seconds.

“Tada!” he called from the other side, “Ever seen speedbridging?”

Heard of, yes, but never seen. “That was so cool!” he exclaimed, “You were so speedy!”

“Aw thanks,” the teen beamed, “but that was just normal speedbriding. You should see the god bridgers.”

He followed the group across the bridge, making sure not to look down. When they were all across, Chazm struck a flint and steel and burnt it down behind them. They crossed several more bridges in this manner, trekking deeper and deeper into the forest of towers that was the inner city. He sensed they were getting close, the kids around him gaining a spring in their steps and chattering animatedly.

“There it is!” Walli suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a tower that rose in the distance, “Home base!”

A haphazard wooden structure perched itself on top of an abandoned tower. It was roughly the shape of a box, with square windows ringing the top. A sliding wooden door had been rolled aside at the bottom, leaving a wide, rectangular doorway open. The whole structure was built towards the far end of the roof, leaving an expanse of flat rooftop bare for other activities. It was not much to look at, but the kids around him let out a collective cheer.

They reached the rooftop of the tower closest to the compound, where a glass bridge already connected the two. Why they didn’t make it out of a more sturdy material was beyond him. Once again, Dream tried his best to not look down. It didn’t help that his feet appeared to be stepping on thin air.

Eighty hopped onto the stretch of rooftop in front of the compound, spreading his arms out wide. “Welcome to Nolife!” 

“ ‘Cause we’ve got no lives!” Purpled landed beside him, “Get it?”

“That’s certainly morbid,” Dream managed to say, carefully trying to get himself off the bridge.

Noticing his unease, Eighty offered him his hand, sweeping a “m’lady” bow. Dream pointedly ignored him.

“Suit yourself,” Eighty smirked, before waving him through the rectangular doorway and into the compound, “Welcome to the club where the cool kids hang.”

The interior opened up into an airy warehouse. From gaps between the wooden planks in the walls, beams of sunlight cut through the air, illuminating dust motes at the center of the room. A large map of Hypixel was spread out on the floor, each of its many districts highlighted in different colors. Along the two side walls, a set of wooden stairs ran up to a second floor overlooking the center of the room. Colorful tarps hung from the balcony and between supporting pillars, walling off the rest of the first floor from the central area.

Around the edges of the map, two teens lounged on the piles of colored wool that served as furniture.

“Oh look, they brought home a Dream stan!” The girl in light purple looked up as they approached. “Hey Purp, is this the guy you said was running through the city with a whole pack of guards after him?”

Purpled grinned. Oh, so it had been Purpled that’d spotted him first and brought the rest of the guild down. “Yup! And guess what? He’s-”

“Oh my god is that the real Dream?” The teenager across from her scrambled to his feet. He wore a black suit blazer and had a funny accent.

“Calm down man, you almost sound like a Dream stan,” Eighty teased. He elbowed Dream. “Oh yeah, what do you think about those? Did you hear they write fanfiction about you?”

His fans he knew of, but he’d never understood how he’d managed to accumulate fans in the first place. After all, stanning a wanted criminal couldn’t possibly be a good idea in the eyes of the general public. But if they followed him because they understood the real reason why he’d set off to kill the Enderdragon, well, then he was honored to have them. Dream stuck a hand into his sweater pocket, tipping his head up in thought. “I think they’re pretty cool actually,” he said.

“So you won’t weirded out at all if they like, walked up to you randomly and asked you a ton of questions, right?” Purpled asked innocently.

“Ummmmm,” he thought again for a while. He didn’t see anything wrong with it. “Nope.”

And just like that the dam broke. The teens crowded him, finally spilling all the questions they must’ve been holding back.

“Okay, so why do you wear that mask then?"

"Can you even see out of it?”

“What’s your fkdr?”

“How do you fight with an axe?”

He put his hands up, holding them close to his chest to create a small barrier between him and the Nolife teens. “Uh,” he uttered, mind scattered by the sudden attention.

The questions only continued.

“Why are you trying to kill the Enderdragon?”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Is it true that you wanna kiss-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, leave the poor guy alone,” Eighty cut in, shooing the kids away. He quirked an eyebrow at Dream, taking note of his closed stance, before turning his eyes back on his guild. “Hey I’m cool too,” he complained, “Why don’t you guys bother me?”

“Because we know you too well, Eighty,” Chazm smirked. A chorus of Yeah Eighty’s joined him. “We know that you have an unhealthy obsession with pizza, you like pokemon, your hair color isn’t actually natural-”

“Hey!” Eighty cried in dismay. He flipped his hair. “It totally is!”

“It’s not,” Chazm whispered loudly to Dream, “I’ve watched him cry when his roots grew out.”

Dream laughed, uncurling himself slightly. “Are his eyes at least?”

Eight fixed him with a deadpan expression. “No. I wanted lighter eyes as a kid so I poured bleach on ‘em. It worked on one and I got yellow, but didn’t in the other so it just got irritated and turned red. Don’t try this at home, kids.”

Dream snorted. “Is this guy for real?”

“He’s just like that.” Purpled shrugged. “Don’t ever ask him about his Lunar client butt implants.”

Dream made a choking sound at that, and Purpled only laughed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can’t just tell people that, Purp,” Eighty complained. He waved the kids around him. “Okay, so from the top, this is Chazm, Purpled, Wallibear, Hannah, Astelic, and Sammy.” He took a breath. “There’s more of them out there, probably causing trouble in some corner of Hypixel right now, but you’ll meet them all eventually.”

“Wait, you’re staying?” Sammy clapped his hands to his head, looking like he was on the verge of freaking out again.

“Yeah, we worked out a neat little deal.” Eighty rubbed his hands together. “Dream’s gonna be our distraction, and we’re going to help him break his hunter’s bed. In the meantime, he’s gonna be staying with us.”

“Oh my god, David would’ve loved this,” Sammy remarked.

The circle instantly fell silent, and the mood sombered.

“Yeah,” Astelic finally said, “David probably would’ve gone full fanboy mode.”

“Who’s David?” Dream asked, feeling extremely out of place.

“A friend of ours,” Eighty cut in, “Looked a lot like your hunter actually, white glasses and all.” He quickly changed the subject. “Okay, now shoo guys.” He twirled a finger at them. “Go show Dream where he can crash.”

The atmosphere lightened again.

“Follow me!” Purpled yelled, having designated himself as his tour guide. He excitedly grabbed his arm, intent of showing him around.

Dream flinched and instinctively drew his arm back.

“Oh, sorry,” Purpled apologized, looking embarrassed. He pointed nervously with both hands towards the wall of colorful tarps. “Um, okay, this way.”

He followed him through the wall, pushing aside the tarps that kept the light out. Behind it was a grid of wooden pillars, individually spaced to hold up the second floor. Tarps were stretched between the pillars and the walls, sectioning off the space into small rooms. Each was filled with personal belongings and a hammock.

“We’ve got no beds, sorry,” the teen apologized, passing by each individual room. They all seemed to be color-coded by which guild member they belonged to. He led him to the far corner, where the tarps were hung a bit more heavily. “You’d probably want more privacy from the rest of us ‘cause, uh, you know, the mask.” He drew a hand over his face, mimicking the thing. He pulled aside a tarp, exposing a room nestled in the left-most corner of the compound, wooden walls surrounding it on two sides instead of one. “Is this okay for you?”

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Dream reassured him, astounded by how considerate the teen was being. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” He watched the teen take down the very purple hammock, and realized too late that this shadowy corner actually belonged to him.

“Wait wait wait wait, this is your room?” He rushed over to him, intent on making him stop.

“Yeah!” Purpled gathered up his belongings and stuffed them into the hammock for easier transportation. “I was one of the first people in the guild so I got the corner! It’s got two whole walls!” And he didn’t mean it in a bitter way. He spoke with the earnest enthusiasm carried only by people who’d grown up with very little in their life. “Chaz’s got the other!” 

“I can’t just come here and take over your room!” Dream exclaimed, “That’s a horrible thing for me to do!”

“Don’t worry about it mister Dream sir!” Purpled stood and slung his hammock of belongings over his shoulder. “It’s my pleasure having you here.” He shrugged. “Besides, there’s a spot open next to Walli and it’s the perfect opportunity for me to prank him at night.”

His generosity left Dream scratching the back of his head. “Oh, in that case, I mean, if it’s not a problem.”

“Not at all!” the kid chirped, “C’mon, I’ll help you settle in.”

With his stuff out of the way, Purpled helped him set up his own hammock. Immediately afterwards they ran into a problem: there was nothing else to do. Dream had no other possessions except for the clothes he carried on his back.

“You can help me set up if you want!” the teen offered, and that was how Dream found himself sitting on the floor of Purpled’s new room, watching him stack emeralds into his enderchest. 

“What’re you doing with all of that?” he asked. He assumed it had been the loot he’d nabbed from the guards earlier today.

“I’m saving up for college!” the teen said brightly, “I originally came to Hypixel to go to the university here, but it was too expensive and I found a higher calling breaking beds. You can’t get equal education when only the ranked players get to go to school.”

He hadn’t expected such a mature answer from a kid sitting in a pile of bloodstained emeralds. “Oh. What did you want to study?”

“Engineering!”

He tipped his head up in thought. There would be no harm in telling him, right? There was something so endearing about his eager but well-grounded enthusiasm. “You know, I once used to be a developer.”

Purpled finally tore his eyes away from his emeralds to look at him in surprise. “You? A developer? Where’s all your-?” He flapped his hands around in the air vigorously, “Magic? Mumbo jumbo? Voodoo? If you’ve got your developer powers then why’re they still hunting you? Can’t you just snap them out of existence?”

“I never finished school,” he explained. “Like you said, I found a higher calling. The Enderdragon needs to go.”

Purpled nodded seriously. “Mmm I get that. Well it turned out quite well, right? We got to meet you!”

Dream just nodded silently, caught up in his thoughts. The world was a big place, he knew that since he’d gotten chased across most of it. He would never have thought that here, in the heart of the city of his greatest enemies, he would find a small group of people just like him. It felt like he’d come home.

After being on the run for months, Dream slept lightly. Any crack in the night could be a hunter closing in on him; any disturbance of the air a sword slipping under his chin. Even in the Nolife compound, surrounded by people who’d so far only shown him kindness, it was still no different.

He woke to cool air rushing over his face, weaving through the roots of his hair. Something stirred the air outside the compound, sending breaths of wind through cracks in the wooden wall. There was a soft thumping sound in the night, almost like someone was shaking out a blanket. He put a hand on the wooden wall, feeling the beams channel vibrations from the roof down to him. Wriggling upright in his hammock, he pressed an ear against the wall.

Two quiet thuds sounded on the wood. After a few moments, they were followed by voices.

“Dude, that was way too risky.” That sounded like Chazm. “If he sees-”

“Hey, did you wanna traverse the whole city by foot?” came Eighty’s lazy drawl, “Cause I didn’t, that would’ve taken forever! We had to get the word out to everyone, and fast. This is the best chance to rally the guilds for our final rush.”

There was a moment of silence as Chazm processed his words.

“...d’you really think he’s the one?” he finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The prophesied one?”

A loud scoff. “ ‘Course not! You should know better than to listen to that kinda nonsense, Chaz. I get misquoted one. time. and they turn it into a prophecy.”

The night was silent as all parties turned his words over in their heads. Dream’s own mind was spinning. What prophecy? Had him defeating the Enderdragon been spoken about years and years before his arrival? Were all his actions that he’d thought had come from his own free will actually controlled by some great entity?

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Eighty spoke again.

“There’s no such thing as prophecies,” the guild leader said, quieter now, “but if I had to put my money on who’ll defeat the Enderdragon, then he’s the one.”

For once, there wasn’t a single drop of sarcasm in his words.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the base was decidingly busier. The Nolife teens flitted in and out of the compound, throwing themselves down into the city below or clambering up, exhausted, but grinning with some great, shared excitement. They still greeted him with eager waves, but unlike yesterday, he didn’t seem to be the center of their excitement anymore.

“What’s going on?” Dream asked when he finally caught Eighty between errands. “And who are they?” He pointed at the two unfamiliar players that gawked at him from behind the members of Nolife. 

“Members from another bed breaking guild,” Eighty explained. “Word’s gotten out that you’re with us and everyone’s starting to plan a collab. A final battle, as some would say.”

News seemed to travel fast around these parts. It was as if the rumors had sprouted wings and flown around the entire city overnight. Eighty’s words from last night echoed in his head. Was Dream’s role in some so-called prophecy enough to cause all the bed-breaking guilds to rally for a final rush? He didn’t know if he had been meant to hear that, so he kept silent. 

The back of his neck prickled. He turned his head and caught the two players staring at him again. They quickly turned away, conversing animatedly with the Nolife members instead.

“They’re saying you’re the prophesied one.” Eighty wrinkled his nose at the concept. “But I disagree because there’s no numbers in your name.” 

“What?”

“Numbers,” Eighty repeated, sounding completely serious, but having interacted with him more now, Dream sensed that he was about to make some scathing comment. He tilted his head at him, prompting Eighty to continue.

“What, haven’t you heard? The more numbers you have in your name, the cooler you are.” He leaned in as if to share a secret. “You know what really makes someone great?”

Dream rolled his eyes. He had an idea of what was coming. “What?”

“Having an eight and a zero.”

And there it was.

“How did you get your name anyway?” Eighty eyed him up and down. “You seem a bit too young to have been the first one to make it. How’d you get it from the original guy?”

“I killed them.” It had been a messy ordeal, but when it was all said and done, he’d gotten himself a pretty sweet name.

“Well that’s certainly a way to do things.” Eighty put his hands on his hips. “Haven’t you heard of like, sharing the name? There’s a Gamerboy81, and Astelic over there used to be Gamergirl.”

Now Dream was curious. “How did you come by your name?” he asked. The people he’d seen with names like his mostly consisted of young children.

Eighty’s mismatched eyes darted around, seemingly caught off guard. “Oh it sounded like, uh, exactly what an ordinary Hypixel citizen would choose.” He sounded oddly sheepish. “Thought it would help me, you know, blend in more with the crowd.” His face suddenly lit up. “Oh, speaking of blending in, wanna see a magic trick?”

“Sure,” he said, expecting Eighty to pull some mundane sleight of hand on him. It would fit his style of sarcasm quite well.

What he didn’t expect was to witness Gamerboy80 disappear in a puff of smoke. In his place stood a complete stranger, with features so plain and ordinary that he found he couldn’t even describe them if he tried.

“WHAAAAAT?” he howled, too caught off guard to realize how loud he was getting, “Eighty, are you still there?”

“No, it is I-” the player announced in a dramatic voice, “Cool kid seventeen!” He still sounded distinctly like Eighty, and the guild leader reappeared in a puff of smoke.

Dream took a few steps back. “Okay, what was THAT?” he gasped, flabbergasted. He’d only seen this kind of power once, when he was training to become a developer.

“A nick,” Eighty explained, “Some ranked players in Hypixel have the ability to nick. Usually it only comes with a rank, but I’ve found a work around.” Without warning, he grabbed Dream by the forearm.

He stiffened at the sudden contact, but his discomfort was instantly forgotten when smoke swirled around him. “Whoa!” he gasped, watching it crowd his vision and then dissipate. “What was that?”

Eighty released his hold on him and gestured at a puddle of water on the floor. “Take a look!”

Dream stepped up to the puddle, and almost reeled back at the sight of an exposed face. Then he took another look.

It wasn’t his.

A young boy with pale white hair stared back at him. He wore a black suit vest over a dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Dream self-consciously tugged on his sweater, and the boy in the puddle straightened his vest.

“Is that me?” he asked in wonder, “Am I nicked?”

Eighty crossed his arms, seemingly impressed. “Well, you got it quicker than most.”

“Whoa, this is so cool!” he exclaimed, poking more at his figure. He discovered that when he blinked under his mask, his nick blinked as well. That might be a slight problem, as the point of the mask had also been to hide his facial expressions. 

“Hmmm.” Eighty rubbed his chin, having noticed the same problem. “It’s so weird seeing you with a face.” When Dream scowled at that, he leapt back. “Dude, you really gotta work on that! You have such an expressive face!” Eighty waved his hand in front of him, smoke repeatedly engulfing his vision and then fading away. “There,” he said, finally satisfied with adjusting his nick, “Take a look now.”

A younger version of himself stared back at him. He bit his tongue, just barely keeping himself from yelling out loud. Such a reaction would only serve to give him away.

“That’s me!” he settled for exclaiming in a hushed tone. How Eighty conjured such a frighteningly familiar image was beyond him. He wore a light blue hoodie, once a favorite, now lost. Long, blond hair hung in front of his eyes, obscuring enough of his face to cover his expression. The last time he’d looked like this, he was still in Munchy. The last time he’d looked like this, he wasn’t wanted by the whole world. He brushed a strand of nonexistent hair aside to get a better look.

Eighty smiled in amusement. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

They were in the city.

They were in the city and no one was so much as looking his way. He’d thought that wearing a mask to hide his face was liberating, but this, this was utter freedom.

“What’re we doing here again?” he had to ask. He’d been too distracted marveling the nick to listen to Eighty when he’d gathered some other guild members and led them down to the streets.

“We’re here to scout,” the stranger beside him said in Chazm’s voice. “We need to see how many guards your arrival has brought out to the streets, and if we can still pull off our big rush. Also we need more supplies.” He pushed a pile of gold into his hands. “Go to that shopkeeper and trade for gapps.” He pointed at the villager behind one of the market’s many stands. “Four gold each, don’t let him swindle you for more.”

Dream nodded, turning back around. “Alright, where should I-” He trailed off when Chazm was nowhere to be seen. “What?”

A sea of people continued to push past him, not a familiar face in sight. With their nicks, Nolife had instantly been swallowed by the crowd, leaving Dream alone. “Okay well-” he muttered, making his way to the villager. 

The shopkeeper paid him little attention, wordlessly exchanging his gold for gapps. He knew they were employed by Hypixel. It seemed like money ever only went one way. He tucked the gapps away in his inventory and resumed his search.

“Hi Dream.” Eighty’s voice cut through the crowd.

He whirled around, but the guild leader was nowhere near him. Instead he was a bit further down the street, talking to a kid in a green cloak. “You’re shorter than I imagined.” 

Dream immediately began to push his way through the crowd towards him. “Eighty, what-”

Eighty shot him a warning look and continued speaking to the look-a-like. “Dude, I’m like, such a huge fan.”

“Oh, I’m not the real Dream.” The kid blushed. “I’m a fan too, I think he’s really really cool!”

“Wow, me too!” Eighty said, and Dream thought that he’d never heard anything more sarcastic in his life. “Did you hear? Dream’s in the city!”

“Yes!” the kid squealed, “That’s all I’ve been able to talk about!”

“Okay, okay.” Eighty waved them closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You know what we should totally do?” He paused for dramatic effect. “We should totally form a guild of just Dreams. Like we should get every fan in the city to dress like him. Show our support, you know?”

The kid nodded enthusiastically. “That’s such a good idea!”

“Great.” He gave the kid a pat on the shoulder, sending them on their way. “Go tell your friends!”

Dream finally shouldered his way through the crowd up to him. “What was that?”

“Misdirection.” Eighty smirked. “If more people dress like you, the harder you’ll be to find. Also,” he added, “It’s fun pretending to mistake them for the real deal.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of them for dressing like me!”

“I’m not!” Eighty protested, then stopped. “Actually, I totally am. It’s okay though, I run into enough Gamerboy80 impersonators anyway.”

Dream grumbled, but he was right, it was a good idea. Between the nicks and his apparent group of fans running interference, he’d be able to get around the city as he pleased.

“A dozen apples, please.”

His head snapped around at the familiar voice. Youthful and high, dripping at the edges with a rich accent. He’d recognize it anywhere.

George. 

There he was, stepping up to the shopkeeper’s stand. He must have been in line just a couple of people behind Dream, and he hadn’t even noticed. 

The early morning sunlight fell on his hair, illuminating brown strands into gold. He was dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans, but without his weaponry crisscrossing his chest, it was a whole new outfit entirely. He looked calm. At peace. Domestic.

It was odd, seeing him this way. Too quiet, almost. His glimpses of George were always in motion. Between flashes of swords, or obscured through trees. The George he knew was loud, brash, angry. Here, he was still. It exposed a quiet side of him he’d never had the opportunity to see. Like a glimpse into his soul, a private side of George Dream would never get to see as his enemy. For a brief moment, Dream hated the Universe for pitting them against each other. But perhaps then, he’d never learn to appreciate a quiet opportunity such as this. Being able to stare at George with no consequence felt illegal.

A hand fell onto his shoulder. “Stop staring, dude, that’s rude.” Eighty tightened his grip and spun him around. Then he caught sight of what he had been staring at. “Oh, of course.”

Dream didn’t reply, only craning his head over his shoulder to keep looking.

“Hey, eyes up here!” Eighty snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Stop undressing him with your eyes!”

“I’m not!” he protested, face aflame that Eighty would accuse him of such a thing, “He just looks… so peaceful.”

“Hmm, nice. Look out.” Eighty pulled him to one side as a group of kids ran by, yelling and screaming as they chased each other.

Dream momentarily watched them run down the street, before snapping his gaze back to George.

“Oh no, please don’t,” came Eighty’s quiet muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the kids barreled right into George, jostling him and making him drop his basket of apples. “Hey!” he yelled after them, “Watch it!”

Before he knew what he was doing, Dream pushed Eighty aside and walked towards him, drawn by some unknown force. He dropped to the ground beside George, helping him scoop apples up from the floor.

The hunter looked up, sunlight catching on his glasses. There was a puzzled look on his face, but he clearly didn’t recognize him, or he would’ve raised hell. He let him help, silently piling apples into his basket.

It was exhilarating, being so close to George and not having him try to kill him. George hummed quietly beside him, clearly at ease in his presence. He let himself imagine that, in another world, they could’ve been friends.

Dream finished placing apples into the basket. The two of them stood up in unison, looking at each other. More like Dream looked at George. George was busy scrutinizing his apples for bruises, and Dream couldn’t help but feel robbed of his attention. He realized they still hadn’t said a word to each other.

“Oh thanks, um…” George squinted at his name tag. “...Amanda Hugandkiss.”

The string of words hit him out of nowhere. “WHAT?”

“Amanda… Hugandkiss?” George repeated. He clutched the basket of apples to his chest. “Isn’t that your name?”

“A man to HUG and KISS???” Dream enunciated, as if he hadn’t heard it right the first time.

“I didn’t say that! It’s your name!”

“No it’s NOT!”

“Wow, is this a wattpad fanfiction or something?” Eighty finally inserted himself into their little circle.

“Eighty, thank god,” Dream exclaimed in relief, “Something’s wrong. Who’s a man to hug and kiss?”

“You,” Eighty snickered, “That’s your nick. I nicked you as Amanda Hugandkiss.”

A wave of horror crashed over him. “WHAT!?” It was like he was on fire, his entire body burning up in embarrassment. “Eighty, unnick me RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, punctuating his demand with a stomp. He didn’t care if he was being too loud or acting like a child, his mind was too overwhelmed to solve things politely otherwise.

“Okay okay fine,” the guild leader pouted.

A puff of smoke later, and Dream appeared.

It was like a curtain falling over him. George’s confused but relaxed demeanor evaporated, replaced by a scowl that both deepened and reddened at an almost amusing rate. Calm, happy George was gone, replaced by the hateful one that always chased after him with such vehemence. His face contorted in anger, and in the corners of his eyes, a hint of fear.

It almost made Dream want to cry.

“You.” The basket of apples vanished into his inventory as his hands flew to the handle of his sword. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” George demanded.

“No, I thought it was pretty funny,” Eighty said.

“Shut up,” both of them snapped at him. At least they agreed on one thing.

“What the fuck that?” George demanded again, referring to the nick. He looked horrified, as if his privacy had been violated by Dream’s very presence. In a way, it had. “Why were you watching me? Have you been following me around like some sick creep?”

“What, no!” Dream sputtered, flailing to get his feelings in check. Indignation, excitement, fear, pain. George didn’t feel safe around him. He knew it was because they were enemies, after all, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. “I just wanted to-”

“What’re you still doing in the city?” George cut him off, “I thought you’d be smarter and have left by now.”

Dream shrugged, brushing off the hurt left on his soul. “Can’t a guy enjoy a vacation?” he joked.

“Not in Hypixel.” His eyes darted to Eighty, who put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. “What’re you doing with him?” he spat.

He looked between the two of them, his feelings seething inside him. He felt hurt by both of them, and for a moment, he felt vindictive. Impulsively, Dream threw an arm around Eighty’s shoulders. “What, jealous?”

“Um, ew.” Eighty smacked his arm off. “Are you implying that I’m a romantic rival vying for your affection?” he gasped in a mock-incredulous tone.

Much to his credit, George remained unruffled. “He’s a known terrorist.”

“So am I, apparently,” Dream shot back, “Yet here you still are, speaking to me.”

George gave him a hard look. Wordlessly, he drew his sword in a ring of steel.

“Oh, we’re doing this now?” Dream put out a hand, his axe flashing into existence.

“You think I have a choice?” George slashed his sword in agitation, drawing screams from the crowd.

Dream had completely forgotten about them. It wasn’t just Dream and George duking it out in the forests anymore. They were in the city, and the city meant people. Players began backing away from them, giving them a wide breadth.

“You should’ve just left, Dream,” George repeated, ”You’re a danger to everyone in this city!” He lunged forward, sweeping his blade down at him.

Dream grinned, dashing towards him to meet the blow. Now this was more like it. This was the George he was familiar with.

Their blades met.

A bolt of electricity shot through his body. A cry of pain escaped his lips, only to be drowned out by George’s ear-piercing scream. His axe clattered out of his hands, jarring vibrations running up his forearms.

George, similarly, toppled backwards, his sword flying out of his flailing arms.

A hand caught the front of his hoodie before Dream could meet a similar fate.

“Oh my god,” Eighty hissed, tightening his grip on the fabric, “Did you not listen to a word I said before we left? We're in a city! Pvp is not enabled in common areas!”

His teeth still buzzed from the impact. “Pvp is… not enabled?” he mumbled through a mouthful of bees.

“Yes!” Eighty hauled him back to his feet, giving him a shove to keep him upright.

Across from them, George slowly pushed himself to his feet, groaning. He put a hand to his head, before shooting a glare at the two of them.

Eighty quickly put his hands up, trying to placate him. “Look man, we don’t want any trouble,” he drawled, real calm and slow. The crowd began to close around them again, muttering in disapproval at their escalation. “We’re here to do some shopping, you’re here to do some shopping. No trouble.”

George arched an eyebrow at that statement. “You’re lucky pvp wasn't enabled here.” He picked his sword off the ground and sheathed it. “But next time, you won’t be.”

Dream scoffed, crossing his arms. “Sure George, sure.”

“Stop that,” Eighty scolded. He grabbed him by the back of his hoodie, hastily pulling him away. “Well, it was nice meeting you!”

“Hey!” Dream protested as Eighty successfully budged him from his spot. “We’re not-”

“Yes we are!” He waved stiffly at George. “Bye!”

Dream gave him a sheepish wave, but George didn’t wave back. His distrustful eyes didn’t leave their backs until the crowd finally swallowed them up.

Eighty dragged Dream into a secluded alleyway, ducking into the shadows. “You nearly blew our cover!” he hissed.

“What cover?” His eyes lingered outside the alleyway, thoughts still turned to George.

“He knows you’re here, he knows you have a nick, and he saw you with me, the leader of the most notorious bed-breaking guild!” Eighty laid it out for him on his fingers and shook them at him. “I’m sure your hunter is smart enough to put two and two together to guess that you’re going after his bed. Now he knows we’re coming!” He smacked a hand to his forehead. “God dang it, I thought you’d be smarter than this!”

“You named me Amanda Hugandkiss!” Dream shot back, “It was like you knew this was going to happen!” 

“Okay, but it was pretty funny, you gotta admit it.” Eighty smirked. “If there’s one thing I got out of this whole mess, it was definitely entertainment. I just didn’t expect it to work that well.” He paused, his eyes catching on something. “Hey, that’s that behind you?”

Thrown by the sudden change in subject, Dream could only follow as Eighty strode past him, grabbing a poster and tearing it off the alley wall.

“Hey look, it’s me!” He held it up as a side-by-side comparison, grinning wildly like the Eighty on the wanted poster. The caricature was shockingly accurate, also displaying a zigzag of sharp teeth like in the original. “How many stars am I now?” He squinted at the fine print. “Fifteen hundred? Oh let’s goooo!”

Dream leaned forward to get a better look at it.

Gamerboy80, the poster read, Leader of bed-breaking guild “NOLIFE”. Wanted for murder, bed destruction, illegal potion consumption, terrorist activities, pwning noobs, and other crimes against Hypixel. Final deaths caused: 100,000. Beds broken: 53,000. Stars: 1500.

“The more stars you have, the more wanted you are,” Eighty explained, “ ‘cause everyone knows that stars equal skill.”

It never occurred to Dream that Hypixel had a criminal ranking system. Given how they ranked ordinary citizens by how much they “donated,” he shouldn’t have been surprised. His eyes roamed the wall of wanted posters, idly wondering how many crimes he’d racked up across all the cities he’d been in. Then he caught sight of a familiar figure drawn on a wanted poster. His hoodie had been reimagined into a pointed hood and cloak, casting his figure in darkness except for the pale white of his smiling mask. His heart sank as he took in what was written on it.

DREAM. the poster declared in large, bold letters, DANGER TO SOCIETY. BRINGER OF THE APOCALYPSE. HERALD OF THE END TIMES. WANTED DEAD BY THE CITIES OF HYPIXEL, MUNCHY, AND THE FORMER GOVERNMENT OF MCPVP.

“Daaaaang man,” Eighty whistled from behind him, making him jump. He leaned over to get a better look at the poster. “It’s like they think you’re the antichrist or something. What did you do to get that kinda description? You weren’t responsible for bringing down Mcpvp back in the day, were you?”

“No, Mcpvp collapsed after it got overrun by mobs.” He remembered Bad grabbing him and Pandas and booking it out when the city fell. “I didn’t have anything to do with that, I was just a kid back then.” His eyes flicked back to the poster loudly proclaiming his crimes. “As for this, I don’t know.” He really didn’t. One day he set off to kill a dragon and then all of a sudden he became the centerpoint of the largest manhunt in history. He angrily tore the poster off the wall, stuffing it into his pockets.

“Well, that sucks man,” Eighty began a little too casually. Dream got the sense that he was trying to distract him. “They didn’t even say how many stars-”

He was interrupted by a patter of footsteps at the mouth of the alleyway. Dream’s hand shot to his axe and his heart pounded heavily. Had George somehow followed them?

“Wait.” Eighty stepped out in front of him, blocking him from view. Instead of George or some city guards, a familiar shade of yellow appeared around the corner. 

“Hey!” Chazm waved his arms, fully unnicked. “There you guys are! We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Eighty instantly brightened. “Hey Chaz, did you know I’m fifteen hundred stars now?” He thrust the wanted poster at him. “We gotta throw a party!”

“Really!?” Chazm turned to the posters on the wall. “Am I here? How many stars do I have?” His eyes fell on one of them. “Oh sweet! One hundred and forty!” He began tearing other posters off the wall in earnest. “We gotta show the others!” Then he seemed to remember the reason he’d gone looking for them. “Oh, right.” He straightened up, torn posters held to his chest. “Didn’t we plan a rush this afternoon? We have to get back now if we’re gonna have time to teach him everything.” He tipped his head at Dream.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll have enough time,” Eighty reassured him. He quickly tucked his wanted poster away in his inventory and sauntered up to the mouth of the alleyway. His heavy coat swished behind him. After peering out for several moments, he flicked a hand for Dream to follow. “Alright, coast is clear. Let’s get our haul up to base and then I can show you the ropes.”

Chapter Text

Sunlight filtered in from the square windows ringing the second floor of the Nolife compound. While the bottom floor had been converted into living quarters, the top served as an actual warehouse. Crates were stacked on shelves, choke-full of gapps, pots, enderpearls; anything a player could want to break a bed. It appeared to be an armory as well, with rows of swords, axes, and other manners of tools hanging from the walls. The uniform flow of crates and tools along the walls were disrupted only by a small room tucked into the far right hand corner, its door closed tightly shut.

The rest of the guild had already departed after dropping off the morning’s haul, leaving Dream and Eighty alone. Dream leaned against the table at the center of the room, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. The table in question only loosely fit the definition, being composed of several sealed crates pushed up against each other.

Eighty rummaged through the crates around the room, taking out items and stacking them in his arms. As he made his way back to the table, he froze for a second, before discreetly kicking at something on the floor, sending it skidding under one of the crates.

Dream caught a blur of something black and vaguely reflective, but it blended too well in the shadows to tell.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything,” Eighty huffed, letting all the items in his arms spill onto the table. He rubbed his hands together. “I guess we’ll start with the basics. Bedwars. We sneak into ranked people’s houses and break their beds so they can’t respawn. Sounds easy enough, right?”

“Sounds like breaking and entering to me,” Dream said offhandedly, distracted by several ominously glowing fireballs.

Eighty gave him an unimpressed look. “How’d you think I racked up all those crimes, huh? Unlike you, Hypixel’s absolutely right to accuse me of such things. We’re not here to frolick and pick flowers together. We break into people’s houses, and the richer they are, the more likely they’ll have hired guards to keep us from doing that.”

A thought crossed his mind, and Dream looked up from his fidgeting. “George won’t have those, will he?”

“Around your hunter’s bed?” Eighty scoffed, “No. He’s little more than a guard himself in the eyes of Hypixel. I bet he’s only got one of those work-only ranks, like the city guard or the End busters. At least Hypixel’s got enough sense to give ranks to people they hire for jobs where dying is an everyday occurrence. Probably ‘cause it’s cheaper to do that than find fresh blood.”

Dream grimaced. How many times had he killed George? Not to mention the other hunters? Initially he’d taken their decision to abandon the hunt and return to Munchy as a triumph on his end, but now that he thought about it more, it was a solemn affair. One soul could only handle death so many times before it would be permanently warped by the experience.

“I trust you can get past the guards no problem, but actually breaking the bed is a whole ‘nother beast,” Eighty continued. “When not being actively slept in, your typical ranked player keeps their respawn bed buried under a bed defense to make it harder for people like us to break in, which is why we’ve got tools and all sorts of specialized items. Here.” He passed him a small axe. “Bed-breaking axes.” He spun the little silver axes in his hands. “These aren’t meant to be used as weapons like that ginormous axe you lug around, but they can be used to kill someone in a pinch.”

Dream hefted one in his hands. It was light and well-balanced. “There’s no attack recharge,” he observed.

“Nope! Just swing as fast as you can!” Eighty mimed chopping someone’s head off. “Easy enough.” He swapped it out for a small pickaxe, “Picks are for breaking bed defenses. Some of these are enchanted with haste, they’ll make it easier to break clay and endstone.”

“Endstone?” Dream echoed in surprise. He didn’t know players even had access to the block, not with the dragon guarding the End.

“Righttt, betcha haven’t seen that before.” Eighty patted the table, a wordless wait here, before dipping away to go digging through a crate again. “Hypixel imports a lot of it from the End.”

Dream couldn’t help but trail after him, now bursting with a million unanswered questions, “But the End portal is sealed, how do they get back?”

Eighty stopped his digging to look over his shoulder at him. “Ever heard of End busting?”

He shook his head. Up until now, he’d been under the impression that no one had ever set foot in the End. If they had, then why hadn’t they killed the dragon yet?

“Let’s say you’re an ordinary Hypixel citizen,” Eighty began, ticking items off on his fingers. “No friends, no family, no skills, no money, and most importantly, nothing to lose but your life. Hypixel loves these kinds of players. For free, they’ll give you a bed. If -” He put up a finger. “-and it’s a big if- If you’ll hop through an End portal, dig enough endstone to fill an enderchest, and then hop into the void. When you respawn again, you can sell everything in that enderchest for big money. The only real cost is your life.”

Dream couldn’t believe it. Players. Willingly killing themselves for money. All the while, he had been just barely scraping by with the single life of his.

“And it’s not just endstone.” Eighty went back to digging through the crate. “You can get purpur, shulkers, chorus fruit, even elytra! The players over in Skyblock go wild over End items.” He finally emerged from the crate, holding a sickly yellow block in his hands. “But endstone’s the most profitable, because you don’t have to leave the main island. All you gotta do is watch out for the dragon.” He passed it to Dream. “For our purposes, it’s a popular bed-defense material. Takes forever to break with your hands if you’re not prepared, but a good haste pick can cut through it like butter.”

Dream took the alien block into his hands almost reverently. It was cold and smooth against his palm, pocketed like he imagined the moon to be. A wide expanse of endstone stretched outwards in his mind’s eye, stark yellow under a dark sky. Pillars of obsidian shot up into the air not unlike the towers of Hypixel, each crowned with a point of light. A dragon roared in the distance, heavy wingbeats over his head-

“We’ve also got shears for wool,” Eighty interrupted, plucking the block out of his hands and breaking the vision.

Dream blinked rapidly as he settled back into reality. On the outside, he remained unperturbed, paying attention, even. The mask was doing its job. Eighty continued to lecture on about the different block types and what tool broke which block. 

It had been a vision, hadn’t it? Or was it just his imagination? Either way, his quest to defeat the Enderdragon just became more tangible. He’d thought that taking a detour to Hypixel to break George’s bed would put everything on hold, but clearly the two were more interconnected than he’d originally thought. Hypixel seemed to have an End portal or two of its own. If he could find and break into one of them, then-

“Sword.” Eighty’s voice cut through his thoughts again. The guild leader drew his sword and slapped it down on the crate, making Dream jump and yank his fingers out of the way before they got crushed, “What do you think about it, oh mister pvp legend?”

His eyes flew between Eighty’s expectant expression and the sword. God, he felt like a kid again, getting caught by the teacher for zoning out. But Eighty gave no indication that he knew Dream hadn’t been listening for the past few minutes, or simply didn’t care. Instead he waited patiently, a knowing smile on his face.

Dream hefted the short sword in his hands. It was lighter than he expected, with the weight balanced closer to the handle than the blade. Like he’d seen do Chazm during their first meeting, the tip of the sword had been broken at an angle, so it ended with a singular slant instead of two symmetrical ones leading up to point like a traditional sword.

“Why’s it broken so weirdly?” he asked, running a finger along the break that had been resharpened into a new cutting edge. “I’ve never seen a sword like this before.”

“All the Nolife swords are like this,” Eighty explained, laying out several variants. One wood, one stone, and one very, very cracked diamond sword. “If you’re gonna fight on a bridge, you want a short sword balanced closer to your body so you don’t overswing and throw yourself off.” He took the wooden sword in his hand, swinging it through the air in a sweeping motion. “The one-sided blade makes it so that you can smack people off instead of cutting through them. The void does a better job killing people than you ever can.”

A whole new environment, a whole new way to fight. Dream had mastered shield and axe pvp, the meta out in the wilderness, but that clearly would no longer work here. He snapped into attention, intrigued, as Eighty described bridge-fighting, flowing through some basic blocks and strikes. He noted how he moved with his legs bent, holding himself close to the ground for a lower center of gravity. It was effortless for him, then, to follow Eighty as he introduced him to some more blocks, like obsidian and explosion-proof glass (now he understood why all bridges leading to the compound had been made out of glass, of all blocks). 

“And these-” Eighty sighed, sounding extremely world-weary. He covered his face with a groan. “-these are fireballs.” He held up the ominously glowing objects. “I hate fireballs, I hate them so much, but I abuse the frick out of them just to show other people how annoying they are.”

Admiring how they glowed softly in his palm, Dream noted, “They look like fire charges.”

“Ah, those were our early attempts to mimic them,” Eighty corrected him, “these babies are taken directly from ghasts. Much more explosive, and much more deadly. While I make fun of the Skyblock players for being crazies, they’re the only ones crazy enough to have figured this out.” He carefully picked the fire charge out of Dream’s grasp. “Go talk to Walli if you want a good demonstration on how to use them.”

Eighty continued to rattle off specialized items and their occasionally eccentric uses. Dream perked up slightly at the mention of potions, his mind flying back to when he used strength pots on his hunters, and got even more excited when Eighty mentioned invisibility potions, but then zoned out again when Eighty began guessing at the new bed defense meta.

“Butterfly? I think?” Eighty wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know, in my opinion the best bed defense is no bed defense.”

He missed Eighty’s following discussion of traps and tuned back in just in time to hear: “There’s also silverfish, think like, pokemon but all they do is bite at your ankles… oh and golems…. and also….uh… knockback sticks….” 

Eighty slowly turned to look at Dream, and when Dream stared blankly back, a look of glee split his face. Without warning, the guild leader produced what appeared to be an ordinary stick and gave him a sharp rap on the shoulder.

The sudden explosion of force caught him by surprise.

“AHURGH!” he screamed, thrown off his feet. He slammed into the crates on the other side of the room, cracking his skull rather hard against the wall before sliding to the floor in a tangled pile of limbs. His hand shot to the back of his head, checking for blood. When his fingers came away clean, he jerked his head up to glare at Eighty through his mask. “Eighty!” he bellowed, all the while the guild leader laughed his head off, clutching the knockback stick in his hands like a mischievous child. “Eighty, what the-! What’s wrong with you?”

“Ah, my bad, my bad,” Eighty apologized, taking off across the room to help him up. “It’s not often that I meet a complete bedwars noob, you can’t blame me for wanting to mess with you a lil’, right?”

At Dream’s unimpressed look, he grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Okay, sorry man, that wasn’t very nice of me, was it?” He gave him a few good pats, dusting off his hoodie. A grin was still plastered on his face. “Look, it was for your own good. Someone’s gonna try to mess with you sooner or later, and now you’ll be prepared!” He held the knockback stick out of him, a peace offering. “Keep it. Who knows if you’ll need it later?”

“Hm, you’re right.” Dream took it in his hands, giving it a couple of experimental swings. Then he lifted it above his head, his sights set on Eighty. “OHHHH EIGHTY!” he crowed.

“ARGH NO!” the guild leader screamed, throwing his arms up to shield himself. “When I said you’ll need it later, I didn’t mean me!” he turned and bolted down the stairs, Dream hot on his tail. 

“Stop that!” Eighty yelped upon seeing Dream give chase. “Stappppppppp!” he whined, “It’s not funny anymore!”

“Too late!” Dream hooted, “C’MERE EIGHTY!”

He chased him through the atrium and out to the rooftop, turning heads as they shot by other guild members. Dream gained steadily on him, far more used to running at breakneck speeds for extended periods of time. Finally he got close enough to knock his legs out from under him with a sweep of the knockback stick.

It sent Eighty into a rather impressive front flip. He tumbled through the air before falling flat on his back.

“Oh my god, Eighty, you good?” Hannah ran up to him, peering down at him in concern.

“Should I kill Dream for you?” Astelic offered sweetly, unsheathing her sword.

“No, no, no, it’s nothing of that sort, go away!” He lashed a hand out, shooing them away. “I’m fine, you saw nothing!”

Dream stopped beside him, wheezing so hard that he couldn’t straighten up. His laughing fit didn’t go away even as Eighty gave him a firm kick in the ankles, nor when he groaned and put a hand to his head in exasperation. 

“Stop laughing you non, it ain’t over for you yet.” Eighty waved a hand at Astelic. “Go get Purpled, will ya? Somebody’s gotta teach this noob how to speedbridge, and it’s not gonna be me.”

When Purpled emerged from the compound, blinking in confusion by the sight of Eighty laid out flat out on the ground, it only sent him into hysterics again.

“Ever speedbridged before?” Purpled asked as they stood on the roof of the compound. 

Dream shook his head and tried not to look down. The last remnants of his laughing fit had fizzled away into the nauseating feeling of vertigo the instant he'd followed Purpled up the ladder. Thankfully, they were on the edge overlooking the flat roof top, not the sheer drops on the other three sides. This was manageable.

“Okay, it works like this.” Purpled scooted to the very edge of the compound and placed a block on the edge. “You put yourself to an angle and keep moving backwards until you see the edge of a block. Then you place your block and move until you reach the end of that one, then you do it again, over and over again.” He repeated the motion. “You’re crouching to place the block, and then uncrouching and moving backwards as far as you possibly can without walking off the block,” he summarized, “Then you crouch again to place the next block and so on.” Purpled bridged several more blocks out in demonstration. “Now you try.”

Dream scooted to the edge of the block and placed a block out from the edge of it. Then he crouched and backpedaled to the end of that block. He kneeled and placed the second. After a couple of repeats, he found some sort of rhythm.

“There you go!” Purpled cheered supportively, “Now you just gotta do it faster and not die!”

His foot hit open air. Dream let out a gasp as weightlessness engulfed him. Instinctively, he twisted midair, opening his inventory and grabbing his water bucket. He landed safely in a splash of water.

“Wow!” Purpled clapped excitedly from the rooftop. “That reaction time tho!”

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly, climbing the ladder back up again, “But if I get this right, then I won’t need it.”

“It’s okay, it takes a lot of practice,” the teen reassured him. He pulled out a pair of shears and began cleaning up his aborted bridge so he could start again. “Nobody gets it first try.”

But Dream was the type of person who had to get it first try. Or at least close to first try. He began bridging again, trying to find that rhythm. Sometimes he made it several blocks before he fell. Other times he fell right away. Purpled kept cheering him on, patiently taking down his haphazard bridges so he could continue.

Slowly, a small crowd began gathering outside the compound to watch him. Ooooooo they went, when he caught himself with another water bucket.

“Do a boat clutch!” someone called. Of course it was Walli.

When he inevitably fell again, he swapped his bucket out for a boat, placing it down and throwing himself into it before he could break his legs.

“WOOOOOOOO!” the kids cheered, and he felt slightly less bad about himself.

“Do a flip!” Sammy called when he’d clambered back up again.

He obliged, doing a flip and landing the boat clutch.

The group of teens went wild.

Walli cupped his hands around his mouth. “Do a-”

“Hey, he’s not your circus monkey meant to do tricks for you guys,” Eighty interrupted, breaking up the crowd. He still looked slightly disgruntled from earlier. “Let the man practice, okay?”

“Actually, it’s fine.” Dream hopped down beside him. “I can learn on my own time. You guys had a rush this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Eighty put his hands on his hips, a thoughtful look on his face. “So my initial plan was to have you come along and spec us to see how we do things, but why waste a fighter when you’ve got one?” He looked him up and down. “Your knowledge of our techniques is shabby and your bridging can do with a lot more work, but you can definitely be our muscle. Down to pwn some noobs?”

Chapter Text

“Lighthouse is the best!”

“No, Crypt is better!”

“Aquarium!”

“Shut up guys, I’m trying to focus!” Eighty complained, turning the map in his hands this way and that. “We can’t get to any of the maps if you don’t let me focus.” He turned the map again, looking up through the forest of sky towers. They were picking their way across a ledge that ran along the side of a tower, a long line of teens trailing behind Dream and Eighty.

Eighty had briefly explained to him the concept of maps before they left. The wealthier neighborhoods of Hypixel were divided up into themed districts, because apparently rich people couldn’t be bothered to live in normal houses. Nolife had inscribed the rough layout of each district onto a map, combining all of them together to form that impressive map of the city on the floor of their base. Bed-breaking rushes were then organized so that they hit one district at a time- or one map at a time. The current map they were traveling to was called Acropolis.

“Eighty- look out!” Hannah let out a cry in warning.

Eighty let out a gasp, jerking his head back just as an arrow embedded itself into the wall where he had been. The rest of the guild ducked into the shadows of the ledge, taking cover behind decorative stone frescos and downspouts. Eighty escaped unscathed, but the map in his hands wasn’t as lucky. He held it up to the light, peering through the new hole in the paper. “Hey, that’s not cool,” he told the offending arrow.

The flights were colored a familiar shade of blue. 

“George!” His heart leapt at the sight of it and Dream struggled to keep the note of fondness out of his voice. His eyes snapped upwards, tracing the trajectory to a figure on a distant rooftop. It drew its bow and fired.

Nolife dove for cover behind the outcroppings on the ledge again.

“Yooo, we got a bow spammer!” Walli remarked once he reemerged. He shook a fist at George. “Not cool man, not cool!”

“Yeahhhh! Take your bow and get outta here!” the rest of Nolife cried, waving their arms in the air and making rude gestures. 

“Great, he’s on to us,” Eighty groaned. He took a step forward, only to dance back when an arrow clattered off the brick. “Of course he’s a bow-spammer.”

The rest of his guild continued yelling abuse, but Dream doubted George could actually hear them.

They were stuck. Eighty, Dream, and six teenagers, all trapped on a ledge. Dream had to admire him for his brilliance, George had successfully bow camped them. One step forward meant death by arrow. Their only choice would be to turn back. 

“Should I take him out, mister boss man?” Walli asked, idly tossing a fireball into the air and catching it again. “It should be an easy shot.”

“Go for it.” Eighty waved a hand carelessly, just as Dream let out a “Wait!”

Wallibear flicked his wrist, sending the fireball hurtling towards George’s tower. Even at this distance, Dream heard the hunter let out a scream and duck behind the wall, but it was of little use. He finally got to witness the power of the fireball firsthand. It slammed into the side of the building, blowing off the entire corner in an explosion of smoke. Dust columned up into the air, raining blocks and debris into the void. Once the smoke cleared, George was not found.

“GOTTEM!” Walli whooped, “THEY DON’T CALL ME THE BEST SNIPER FOR NOTHIN’!”

Cheers exploded from the rest of the guild, emerging from their hiding spots to congratulate him.

Dream stared at the broken wall, stunned at the ease at which they’d eliminated George. After having been surrounded by the domesticity back at base, he’d almost forgotten that Nolife was a force to be reckoned with.

The rest of the journey was made without issue, Eighty successfully guiding them to a heavyset tower shadowed by a large platform built on top of it. Beams of white nether quartz jutted down from the platform, digging into the sides of the tower to support all the newer construction above. The guild began scaling it, bridging from beam to beam as they zigzagged their way up.

Dream grasped the rim of the platform and pulled himself up, blinking in the sudden sunlight.

The contrast was stunning. Where the underside of the map had been dilapidated and crumbling, the topside was like Mount Olympus. A stretch of green grass spread out under the sun, surrounded by greek columns and architecture built out of nether quartz. A small fountain bubbled nearby, sitting in a mosaic square.

They had emerged onto a central park. Surrounding it were spacious houses, all sharing the same greek theme. Each house was similarly perched on top of a tower, protected by a moat of empty void.

“In a couple of years, the plus-pluses’ll get bored of this theme and build over it.” Sammy pulled himself up behind him. “Then all of this’ll end up on the underside of the map, like the tower we’d just scaled.”

“Plus...plus?” Dream repeated, not taking his eyes off of the decorative stone frescos. It was as if he were living in one of his favorite childhood books.

“MVP++, the highest of ranked players,” Sammy supplied helpfully, “Big money.”

Dream continued to look around in wonder. The terrace of the nearest house was a good hundred meters away, separated by empty void. “How do they get places if there’s no bridges?” he asked, baffled.

“Hm? Oh, they just warp.” Eighty strode past him. “Another benefit of the ranked player.” He stopped at the very edge of the park, indifferent to the steep drop in front of him. The guild gathered around him, their clothing and weaponry distinctively marking them as outsiders. “Alright, this is Acropolis,” he confirmed, tucking the map away into his inventory.

“My favorite map,” Walli whispered.

Eighty gave him a look. “We’ll be splitting four and four,” he announced, “Me, Chaz, Purpled, and Dream will go left. Walli, Astelic, Sammy, and Hannah, you guys go right.” He pointed an arm in each direction, before flicking his wrists inwards. “When you’re done with your side, meet back here. I suggest we all start together as fours to see what they have to throw at us, but after that you're free to split into doubles or singles. There’s enough houses that you can each take one and be done quicker.”

Astelic thrust an arm into the air. “Any nicks today, boss?” she drawled lazily, as if breaking and entering people’s houses were a daily occurrence to them.

Eighty sighed dramatically. “Astelic, why do you even need to ask? Yes, of course, we don’t want them to know what hit ‘em.” He nudged Dream. “Hey, mind if I take the nick today?”

Dream stared at him blankly while the rest of Nolife disappeared in flashes of smoke and unfamiliar faces.

“I’ve only got one nick, either I use it on myself or I use it on you,” Eighty clarified, “Mind if I use it today? The bed-defenders are more likely to recognize me than you, and I don’t want them calling for backups when they realize it’s Nolife that’s rushing them.”

“Honestly, they might think he’s already nicked,” said a stranger with Chazm’s voice, “There’s been reports of so many Dreams running around Hypixel lately that they’ll probably think he’s one of them.”

“See, distraction.” Eighty vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing as an egirl to finger-gun him. “My genius plan worked.”

The other half of the guild had already run off by now, reaching the far side of the park and bridging out towards their first house. Astelic flung herself off the bridge and landed in a roll on the terrace. Immediately, an alarm blared out.

“Drat,” Purpled slammed his hands over his ears, “First rush and they already hit an alarm trap? What’s our luck today?”

“Chaz, you’re bridging,” Eighty ordered, striding past him and shoving a stack of wool into his hands. “Purpled, grab a tnt and I’ll follow with tools.”

Across the map, Dream watched as guards appeared on the terrace, seemingly having been warped in from elsewhere. Astelic and the rest of her team leapt at them fearlessly. While they were distracted, Hannah vanished into an upper window.

“What should I do?” he asked, turning his attention back to his side of the map. Chazm had already begun bridging, the line of wool extending out from where they stood.

Eighty tapped his sword at the head of the bridge. “Stand there and look pretty.” He gave him a wink. “Seriously though, guard the bridge. Don’t let anyone block off our exit.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

Both of them snapped their heads around when shouts erupted from the far end of the bridge.

“Here they come!” Chazm yelled, just as armored players appeared on the terrace of their targeted house. Before he could bridge the rest of the way, the guards took out their own blocks and bridged towards him, connecting the two. Outnumbered, Chazm turned and retreated back to their end of the bridge. 

“They spotted us earlier than I would’ve liked.” Eighty ran down to meet him. “Once I smack these guys off, go up! Let’s break in through the roof!”

“Got it!” Chazm grabbed Eighty’s tools as they passed, allowing him to swap to his sword.

The guild leader gave one last backwards glance at Dream. “Never fight on a bridge!” he yelled, waving his sword. And then he was off.

Eighty barreled down the bridge, players falling left and right as he plowed through the line of defenders. A guard in heavy iron armor rushed him, sword raised. Without breaking stride, he leapt sideways off the bridge, using his skewed trajectory to smack the guard diagonally off. Eighty landed safely back on the wool, while his enemy plummeted into the void. Spotting another incoming attacker, he slammed a block down in front of him. The guard tripped, and Eighty sent them over the edge with a swift kick. Then he hopped onto the block, staircasing up over the defenders. The moment his foot hit the airspace above the terrace, a cloud of dark smoke exploded outwards, engulfing the entire house. 

“Oh!” Eighty stumbled back, covering his eyes. “And now I can’t see.” He sounded oddly okay about it. He waved a hand back at Purpled, about to follow him up. “Stay back, I just tanked a trap!”

Moments later, the smoke vanished, revealing Eighty perched on top the bridge, a crowd of armored guards clustered below him. They jumped at him, trying to smack his feet.

“Awww, look at ‘em, they’re so cute!” he cooed, squishing his cheeks and peering down at them.

One of them jumped a little higher than the rest and slashed his ankles.

“Ouchie!” Eighty yelped, and stacked up one more block. Done messing around now, he turned to Purpled. “Tnt!” he called, before hopping down into the mass of defenders. He caught another blade on his own, engaging the defenders in a furious sword duel.

Purpled ran up the bridge, lighting a tnt and dropping it on the roof. 

BOOM!

Tiles flew everywhere, exposing a burning bedroom. At its very center, right where the bed should’ve been, was a mound of endstone blocks.

“Aw, they covered it up already!” Purpled landed in the bedroom, swapping his sword out for a pick. As he mined away at the endstone, heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs, heralding the arrival of more guards. “Get it Chaz!” he yelled, abandoning the bed defense in favor of crossing blades with the guards. A hint of red peeked through. “It’s open, it’s open!”

“Got it!” Chazm leapt off the bridge, bouncing once off the bed to break his fall before spinning around and slamming his axe down on the wood.

It exploded in a horrendous cracking sound.

And in that brief moment of time, the fabric between worlds tore.

rrr-ROOOOUUUUUUUGRGHHHHHH!!!!!!

At the end of the bridge, far removed from the fighting, Dream fell to his knees. He clamped his hands firmly over his ears, gritting his teeth as the sound raged inside of him, shaking his bones and echoing in his chest. His heart rate skyrocketed. Despite never having heard it before, he instinctively knew what it was.

A dragon’s roar.

It screamed with the peal of empty skies, so shrill that it shook the stars down to shatter on the endstone. A burning fury lashed out across dimensions, fanned by thunderous wings seething in the darkness. The sun and moon vanished above him, reopening as a pair blazing violet eyes. Dream followed their burning gaze to a single point just beyond him. Through his blurring vision, Eighty, Chazm, and Purpled continued fighting off the defenders.

It was as if nothing had happened.

Hadn’t they heard it? Hadn’t they felt the burning fury lashing out across dimensions, nor seen the furious violet eyes now pointed at the three puny creatures that’d dared break the bed?

His hands flew over his head, tearing at his hair under his hood. He didn't understand, couldn't understand. What was it doing here? What quarrel did the dragon have with beds? Dream curled on himself, seeking to ground himself in the comforting arms of the Overworld. But he was suspended on a bridge, too far up from the earth to see it, let alone touch it. He pressed his face into the wool, hoping it'd bear some semblance to the forests he once laid in.

The cool ceramic of his own mask met his skin. His own heartbeat and ragged breaths echoed loudly in his ears.

It was just a vision. The dragon was not here.

Like streaks of rain, the noises around him slowly fell back into place.

He heard too late the sound of footsteps on the bridge.

“Hey! Get ‘em! Don’t let them flee!” Eighty called out in warning.

A pair of hands shoved him from behind, sending him over the edge. He let out a shout in surprise, catching a brief glimpse of the guard as they rushed past him on the bridge. Panic overtook him just as the spine-chilling sense of weightlessness did. It was like falling out of a tree, except this time, the ground was far, far below. Far enough to definitely not be survivable.

His breath hitched in his throat. His heart rate had just barely slowed after the dragon’s roar, and now it spiked upwards again. Dream swiped at the woolen bridge, scrabbling for a handhold. At the last moment, he caught the edge of the bridge with the tips of his fingers. Instinctively, he swung forward using his momentum, throwing his body down and around, flipping himself back onto the bridge. He landed on his feet like a cat.

For a moment, he just stood there in utter surprise, legs and arms still bent in anticipation of the landing.

Huh, so it was just like falling out of a tree.

“OH LET’S GO!” he bellowed, punching the air.

His miraculous survival took the escaping guard by surprise. They turned and looked, shocked to see him still alive and standing. 

Dream took the opportunity to chase after them. He’d done exactly nothing for the rush so far, and he wasn’t going to fail at his only job.

The guard bolted again, quickly throwing up a wall of wool behind them. Before he could even think, Dream launched himself off the bridge at an angle, twisting his body around the pillar and landing in a roll. He swept out a leg, knocking the guard’s feet from out under them. Dream watched, breathless, as they vanished into the void.

“Holy frick, you just Neo-ed that guy!” Eighty placed a block on the side of the bridge and hopped around the pillar. He offered a hand and pulled him up. “I ran over thinking you were about to die but turns out you didn’t need my help at all!”

“Thanks!” He was absolutely bursting with pride right now, and he struggled to not let it all spill over at once. He reminded himself that Eighty and the rest of the guild had been at it for longer than he had, he was only a newbie compared to them, “It’s not too different from what I’m used to, honestly.” he admitted, downplaying his achievement, “Wool is definitely softer than tree branches.”

Eighty shook his head with a laugh. “Forget killing the dragon, you should just stick around with us.” There was a note of approval in his voice. It seemed to go beyond Dream having stopped the runaway and saving himself. His eyes had a glazed look to them, as if Dream had proved himself competent of some great, future task, like Eighty had actually dared to believe in him for once.

Or maybe he was just mocking him. With Eighty, you could never tell. Dream didn’t let himself get his hopes too high.

The guild leader gave him a hearty clap on the back. “Maybe we can make a bedwars player out of you after all.”

Chapter Text

The skeletal remains of a house rose in front of them, thoroughly gutted with flames catching on the roof where it had been blasted wide open with tnt. Random blocks of wool were scattered all over the place, followed by piles of floating gold and iron, whatever the defenders had dropped when killed. Dream began to see why Hypixel had charged Eighty and the guild with terrorism.

Purpled and Chazm came running back down the bridge, having cleared out the last of the defending players. Both of them held armfuls of gold and emeralds. Chazm even had some diamonds.

“Yooooo that place was stacked!” Chaz whistled as they ran up to them. He began shoving his loot into his inventory.

“You loot the houses after you break the beds?” Dream began, “Isn’t that-”

“How else do you think I feed my kids?” Eighty interrupted, “It’s not like they’ll be missing any of it.”

Purpled caught his concerned glance back at the burning house. “Most ranked players keep their coins in virtual currency,” he reassured him. “When you’re that rich, nobody wants to haul around a million gold blocks. What we nabbed was just spending money.”

Dream nodded. He could take that. Sometimes you couldn’t think too hard about whether what you were doing was right or wrong. He’d dragged himself down that pit many times before, when he’d find himself cornered by hunters who seemed to fear him as much as they hated him, or when he’d hear passing civilians whisper his name in horror. He’d tried to operate as virtuously as possible on his travels, but sometimes he really needed to nab that cake off a windowsill, or cause widespread property damage to ensure his escape.

A hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. “Okay, let’s see what you can do.” Eighty pulled him along. “Hey, Purpled.”

The teen bounced on the balls of his feet, ready for the next rush.

“You and Dream rush the base on the left.” Eighty pointed at the house, still calm and peaceful despite the small war that had just broken out on their neighbor’s front porch, “I think you two can handle it.” He leaned in to Purpled, “Just don’t let him fall into the void or blocktrap himself, okay?”

“Got it, boss!” Purpled saluted, then gestured for Dream to follow him. “Let’s go mister Dream sir! I’ll speedbridge and you fight!”

It was easy enough. He followed Purpled to the far end of the terrace, as close to the other house as they could get. Purpled placed a block at the edge, beginning to speedbridge out. Dream followed closely behind, keeping an eye out for potential enemies. On the other side of the map, the battle raged on as Eighty and the rest of the guild pushed the other houses.

The moment Purpled passed the halfway point over the void between the two houses, a shout went up. Defenders spawned in front of the house, warping in from elsewhere. They wasted no time to start a bridge of their own, building towards Purpled. 

Dream didn’t even wait for their bridges to meet. As Purpled staircased up, he ran past him, leaping the gap while simultaneously drawing the large axe from his back. He landed in a roll, sweeping his axe out and knocking the first two defenders off their feet.

Bridge-fighting. Like Eighty had said, it was a completely different style of combat. He didn’t have to focus on dealing as much damage as possible with the least amount of hits, but rather unbalance his opponent just enough for them to fall off. The void did the rest of the work.

Dream made short work of the defenders, the long shaft of his axe giving him the advantage. But he found it hard to wield the thing without overswinging, especially when his footing was limited to the narrow width of the bridge. In a split second decision, he swiped an abandoned iron sword off the ground before following Purpled up to the bedroom.

“Geez man,” Purpled whistled as he broke through the bed defense. “Those poor guys didn’t stand a chance! You’re a legend!”

“It’s very different than what I’m used to,” Dream admitted, stabbing his new sword into the ground and stomping on it until the tip broke off. “Several times, I overswung with my axe and nearly threw myself off the bridge.”

Purpled only hummed in amusement, hefting his axe in preparation to break the bed.

“Wait!” Dream called out in warning, but it was too late. Purpled’s axe split the bed with a loud crack!

His hands flew to cover his ears. The dragon’s cry rang out again, tugging on his soul. This second time didn’t render him incapacitated like the first, but he still felt burning eyes on him.

“Did you not hear that at all?” he exclaimed in a hushed tone, looking around. The presence of the Enderdragon still burned at the back of his mind.

“Hear what?” Purpled tucked his axe away in his inventory, completely unbothered. 

Dream glanced behind him, as if he could actually see the dragon, “The roar.”

A flicker of recognition crossed the teen’s face, only to be quickly masked by a shrug. “Sometimes it just does that.”

That was not the answer Dream was looking for. Before he could press the teen for more, the sound of footsteps came from the floor below them.

“Oh would you look at that, time for us to go!” Purpled hastily turned and began digging through the remains of the bed, relieved to have escaped the conversation. He unearthed a pile of gold and emeralds hidden beneath the broken mattress and scraped them into his inventory.

Dream innocently pulled open a drawer and nabbed all the iron ingots inside. He resolved to ask the teen about the roar later, when they weren’t in the middle of what had become a warzone. Before the guards could make their way up the stairs, they broke their way out through an upper window.

It was chaos when they emerged. Several more houses on their left had been hit, with half-finished woolen bridges marking the path of destruction. Eighty and Chazm worked fast. Purpled wordlessly began bridging to the house on their right from the roof, not even bothering to drop to the ground. 

They went through the roof for their next one. After that, Dream distracted while Purpled snuck in through a window. On their last house, he found himself inside it for once, looking for the bedroom in its labyrinthine halls. Purpled had split off a while ago to explore the other wing.

He peered around a corner, his axe held at the ready. He’d worked out a system. On bridges, he’d use the mangled iron sword. On flat land, he’d default to his axe.

A thought prickled the edge of his consciousness as he stepped into the hallway: all the players he’d fought had been guards so far. The houses themselves were empty. Where were the ranked inhabitants?

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

Dream whirled around in alarm, his axe raised.

“Hey it’s me, don’t scream,” a stranger said with Eighty’s voice.

Dream willed his heart to slow. He hadn’t even heard him approach, and that was saying something, because Dream was not someone easily snuck up on. He let out a pent up breath. “What’s your nick now?”

“I am…” Eighty paused. “Game. Man. Eighteen,” he stated with great difficulty. He swiped a hand across his brow in mock exertion. “Whew, almost messed up there, you gotta say it real slow.” The tone of his voice implied he was about to make another one of his deadpan jokes.

Dream sighed. He’d humor him. “Why?”

“Well I’m not Gay Man Eighteen, but you can be Gay Man Eighteen if you want~” He gave him a wink. “-not that there’s anything wrong with it.”

The comment caught him off guard. “What-”

“Oh, don’t you think I haven’t been seeing those looks you’ve been giving that hunter of yours.” Eighty batted his eyelashes. It didn’t help that his nick was currently that of an egirl. “Enemies to lovers 50k slowburn,” he declared, as if delivering a prophecy.

The world rumbled ominously.

“I-” he sputtered, too shaken to come up with a retort. “What’re- what’re you doing here?” he settled for asking instead.

“Oh, Chaz and I are done with our side so I went to check up on you and Purp.”

At that moment, a keening dragon’s roar echoed through the halls.

“And we’re done here.” Eighty took off without a second glance backwards.

Dream remained where he stood, his mind working furiously. Eighty had heard the dragon’s roar. So everyone else could hear it, but why didn’t it affect them as much as him? Dream chased after the guild leader, his single, burning question on the tip of his tongue. This was his best opportunity. Surely Eighty would know.

“What was that?” Dream demanded when he caught up to him.

“What was what?” Eighty mocked.

He stepped in front of him, walking backwards so he could catch every minute change of expression in Eighty’s face. “That roar every time you break a bed. You all act like you don’t hear it.”

“It’s ‘cause we don’t, at least not to the extent that you do,” the guild leader said with a smile, and then slipped past him to continue on his merry way.

His words left Dream rooted to the spot. Instead of answering his question, it only left him with more. “What?” he pressed, but it was too late. Eighty threw himself out the door, waving a hand. “Ay Purpled! Over here!”

Outside, a wool bridge had been built from the terrace of the house to the central park. It hadn’t been there when Dream and Purpled came in, Eighty must have made it to go check on them. Purpled joined them at the base of it, and then the three of them crossed it together. Dream remained silent as he followed them, mulling Eighty’s words over in his head.

By the time they reached the central park, a good amount of the guild was already waiting for them, standing around and trading loot. A circle of heads popped up as they approached.

“YOOOOOO, Dream’s still alive!” Walli hooted, rushing over.

“Huh?” Dream uttered, pulled out of his thoughts, “Yeah, I’m alive.”

“Amazing job, brother.” Walli punched his shoulder. Then he turned to Sammy, his voice dropping. “Your diamonds now, hand ‘em over.”

He watched with disbelief as Sammy began emptying out his pockets.

“Hey!” Purple complained, trying to cash in on the bet as well, “At least split them with me, I kept him alive!”

Eighty only sighed at their antics. “Alright, who’re we still waiting for?”

“Astelic,” Sammy replied, polishing a large diamond on his shirt and passing it to Walli. “I think that’s her last hit.” He pointed at the house nearest to them. At some point, it had been set on fire, flames engulfing the roof. At Sammy’s words, the front door flew open to reveal Astelic, the ends of her hair smoking. She ran down the bridge to them, hopping down to join their little circle. 

“Accidentally threw a fireball instead of an enderpearl,” she explained. When everyone just looked at her, she shrugged. “What? Everyone’s made that mistake before, don’t at me.”

“Guys!” Hannah came sprinting over from the other side of the map, a definite note of worry in her voice. Several of the roses in her hair had withered into bundles of thorns. “Guys, we have a problem!”

“Is it a problem we caused, or a problem problem?” Astelic asked, checking her nails for chips.

“Problem problem!” Hannah nodded frantically, “Definitely problem problem, look!” She pointed at the opposite end of the park.

A slim figure stood on the grass, backlit by the flames eating away at the houses across the void. It slowly turned, tracing the woolen bridges from house to house until its eyes landed on the crowd of teens at their end of the park. Firelight reflected off of the lenses of its dark glasses.

Then it caught sight of Dream. Electricity shot up his spine when their gazes met.

“George!” Dream yelled, a little too loudly.

“Not again.” Eighty covered his face with a groan. “Deeee… ennnn…  efffffffff,” he grumbled as if it were the bane of his life.

“It’s the bow spammer!” Walli yelled, “And he brought company!”

True to his words, a pack of guards pulled themselves up behind George, providing the unsettling visual of enemies just popping straight out of the ground.

“Uh, we can take them right?” Dream hefted the handle of his axe, twirling it in his hands. All the bed-breaking had given him confidence. “We can take them!”

“You crazy bro?” Walli threw himself over the edge of the park, landing on the wool bridge they’d made to get there earlier. The rest of the guild followed, diving over the edge.

“We’re a bed-breaking guild,” Eighty reminded Dream, pulling him down with him, “Not pvp gods like you. We break beds and run!”

The shadow of Acropolis slipped over them as they descended back into the bowels of the city. To the right, the sun began to set, casting the towers next to them in fire. Shouts and the clattering of armor came from above them, announcing the arrival of George and his guards. Dream caught a flash of sunlight glinting off of round glasses.

“Light it, light it!” Chazm yelled, as Sammy struck a flint to burn down their wool scaffolding.

It would stop George and his guards temporarily, but not for long. Already, Dream could hear George giving orders.

“Don’t go down there, they’ve burned their bridge. We’ll follow them from above.”

Eighty glanced up in their direction. “Okay, we’re splitting up then,” he ordered, his voice hushed so that it wouldn’t float up to the hunters. “Split up and return to base after dark. We can’t have anyone following us back.” He motioned for Chazm to follow him. They waited for Sammy and Walli to go one way, then Astelic and Hannah to go the other, before taking off.

“C’mon, go go go!” Purpled pushed Dream down onto a ledge below them. He looked over his shoulder before following.

“No, go with the others!” Dream put out a hand, stopping the teen from dropping down beside him. “It’s me they want, they’ll come after me. I can lead them away.”

“Exactly, so you’ll need someone to watch your back.” Purpled swung himself down, leaving him no room to argue. “C’mon, let’s hurry before they catch up!”

Dream cast a quick look upwards. As he’d predicted, a small blue figure leapt from the central park to one of the side towers holding up the houses. It disappeared onto the roof. He turned and took off after Purpled.

“George is above us!” he warned the teen as he led them further down the tower. “He’s good with a bow, so he’s got the advantage on us.”

“When don’t they have the advantage on us?” the teen pointed out.

He did have a point. The hunters had always had an advantage on Dream. But as Purpled led him through the twists and turns of the lower city, he realized that advantage may have shrunken slightly now that he finally had allies on his side.

The tower began sagging towards another as they descended further and further. Finally, the nearby tower came close enough to reach without having to bridge, rendering them practically traceless incase George was still trailing them. Dream followed Purpled as he leapt the gap, taking off in the direction of the setting sun. They jumped to several more towers in this manner, putting distance between Acropolis and where the rest of the guild members had scattered.

“Oop!” Purpled suddenly skidded to a stop at the end of the ledge, swinging his arms wildly to stop in time.

Dream looked across the void. The sun set in front of them, flanked by some distant apartment buildings on their right. The nearest tower was directly across from them, parting the sun’s dying rays.

Purpled turned to him, a block of wool already in his hands. “Cover me while I bridge!”

“Got it.” Dream drew his crossbow, searching the adjacent rooftops for familiar blue. 

Purpled made steady progress, crouching and uncrouching as the bridge lengthened. Dream followed behind him, planting one foot carefully after the other. But it was still too slow. They were horribly exposed on their bridge, hanging precariously over the void.

Blue flashed in the corner of his eye and Dream turned. “Incoming!” He let off a series of shots, bolts skittering off brick and stone walls as George streaked across the buildings adjacent to them, dodging and ducking.

Hearing the sound of projectiles firing, Purpled quickly threw up a woolen wall on his bridge, offering temporary cover between them and George. “He found us?” he asked, “How?”

“I don’t know!” Dream rested the shaft of his crossbow across the wool, his eyes never leaving George’s graceful figure flying across the rooftops. “Just keep bridging!”

They were almost there. The ledge on the tower across from them came closer and closer. George continued to run along the towers adjacent to them, racing to reach the ledge before they did to cut them off. But George’s path took him the long way round. He had to run across several buildings while Dream and Purpled cut directly over the void. They were only a dozen of blocks away now. It seemed as if they would reach it first.

At the last moment, George took a flying leap off the roof, plummeting several stories before landing in a roll on the ledge. He shot to his feet, shoulders squared back as he drew his bow, arrow pointed directly at Dream’s chest.

“No!” With nowhere left to run, Dream threw his arms out, hoping to shield Purpled if George missed. But George would not miss. Both of them knew that.

Purpled had other plans.

“Look out mister Dream sir!” He gave him a hard shove from behind, knocking him forward onto his hands and knees. Dream turned just in time to see blue flights sprout from Purpled’s shoulder. George had missed, but the momentum of the arrow was enough to knock the teen sideways, sending him toppling into the void.

“No!” Dream lunged after him, his fingers only just missing the hem of Purpled’s hoodie. He fell to his knees on the end of the bridge, gripping the wool tightly between his fingers. His eyes searched the city haze in vain, painted red by the streaks of the dying sun; searching, searching, searching for a speck of purple but finding nothing more than specks of white smoke on the wind. Purpled had, quite simply, vanished.

“No!” he cried again, clutching his head in despair.

“I’m sorry.” 

He looked up.

From his ledge, George regarded him with a pitying expression. His hands rested on his bow, a second arrow nocked loosely on the string, but he seemed to have forgotten about it for the moment. “You should’ve just stopped running, Dream,” he said sadly, “It’s because of you people like him-”

“No.” Dream cut him off. He couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the sentence. He had told Purpled not to come, yet the teen had stuck by him anyway. He’d been by his side since the very beginning, Purpled was the one who’d seen him running down the streets, chased by guards, and brought his own guild down to help. He remembered his wide-eyed wonder when they first met. Purpled believed in him. And Purpled had given his only life for him.

“No,” he repeated again, more sure of himself this time, “No, you’re wrong.” He rose to his feet. “It’s for people like him that I’ll never stop running,” he spat. It was his vow to the fallen, the unranked.

George flinched.

His words had come out sharper than he intended, but for once he didn’t care if they hurt George. Dream turned, retracing his steps down the unfinished bridge.

George let him leave, not once lifting the bow in his hands to shoot him off.

Chapter Text

Dream didn’t know how he got back to the compound last night. He’d sprinted through the shadows of towers, letting his body carry him along. His mind rode as a passenger, numb, searching for a feeling to latch on to. So he pushed himself. Air rushed through his lungs, rapid and breathless. He felt sharp pain in his legs, feet hitting the concrete. Momentary weightlessness greeted him when he leaped a gap, and he relished in the tug of the tendons in his arms when he swung himself onto a balcony. It still wasn’t enough.

When the moon rose and the night set in, he found himself crossing a bridge of glass, leading to a familiar structure perched on a tower. The warm cracks of light leaking out between the planks of wood welcomed him with open arms as he stumbled into the Nolife compound.

A sign greeted him by the entrance.

Warning. Look out for falling Dreams. it read, clearly having been put up earlier that day by a certain purple player. It only served to widen the pit in his stomach.

He didn’t bother checking that the others were back yet. He barreled through the colored tarps, yearning for the comforting arms of darkness, and collapsed against the back wall. His mind spun. He’d fought people before, killed people, but not once had he seen a kid get shot into the void with no hope of respawning. What was wrong with this city? What was wrong George? What was wrong with himself?

He felt himself sinking into a stupor. His body was exhausted, battered by the intense physical activity he’d thrown himself into earlier. His mind? Not so much.

His thoughts were too loud.

His dreams, even louder.

In the lazy hours of the morning, when the city was just waking up but the air was still quiet, a pair of footsteps ran up the wooden stairs to the second floor. Chazm knocked furtively on the door to the small room in the corner.

After a few moments, Eighty cracked the door open, fixing him with a glare. “Dude, stop that, you’re gonna wake him.” He cast a quick glance behind him, to the teen sleeping soundly under the covers. “What do you want?”

“There’s a… uh, situation downstairs.” Chazm jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “He must’ve gotten back late last night, but no one noticed till now.”

“And I have to deal with it?” Eighty rubbed his eyes. He’d spent the night on the floor.

“Well you’re the, you know-” Chaz swept his hands at him.

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll deal with it.” He nudged the door open wider for Chazm. “Go get him up, and I’ll go get our guest up.”

They swapped, leaving Eighty to run lightly down the stairs. When he pushed through the wall of colorful tarps leading to where the rest of the guild slept, he was greeted by a crowd of kids. They all had their backs towards him, clustered around something slumped against the far wall. 

“Bro, that’s creepy as hell,” Walli was saying. He was still in his pajamas, a blue stuffed bear tucked under one arm. “You can’t tell if the man’s awake or sleeping.”

“D’you suppose he’s even alive under there?” Sammy asked with concern, bending over for a closer look. The blanket slung around his shoulders threatened to slip and fall onto the unconscious figure.

Hannah yanked him back before it did. “Hey, don’t do that, that’s rude!”

“Should I poke him with my sword?” Astelic offered, reaching into the pockets of her bathrobe.

“No!” Hannah turned and grabbed her arm before she could summon the sword. “Let him rest, guys.” She gave the figure a sympathetic look. “Poor guy must be exhausted from yesterday.”

“What’s going on here?” Eighty finally asked. His guild parted wordlessly before him, cast in soft tones by the morning ambiance. Walli with his stuffed bear, Sammy in his blanket, and Astelic and Hannah both wrapped up in fluffy bathrobes and slippers.

It clashed horribly with the figure collapsed against the back wall. Dream was slumped sideways over himself, hands curled on his partially folded legs. The shadow of his hood fell heavily over his face, empty save for a blank smile. Every angle of his body spoke of tragedy.

“Well, that certainly looks uncomfortable.” Eighty put his hands on his hips. He turned to the circle of innocent faces. “Back it up, punks.” He shooed them away. “Get dressed and get on with your day already.” He glanced over his shoulder, to where Dream was collapsed against the wall. “I think we’re gonna need some space here. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Dream woke to rough shaking. His fitful rest slipped away, dumping him roughly back into the waking world.

“Hey man, you-”

Eighty didn’t get another word in before he was knocked to the ground, the blade of Dream’s axe pressed against his throat.

“Holy frick dude, calm down!” Eighty’s hands shot to the handle of the weapon, fighting to keep it away from his neck. “I was just trying to wake you up, man, that can’t possibly be the best place to sleep for your back.”

“You!” All his grief came crashing down on him in a terrible storm. “Why did you let him go?” He threw all his weight on the blade to keep Eighty pinned. “Why are you sending children to their deaths?”

“They’re not children, they’re teenagers who can make decisions for themselves.” Eighty gave him a hard shove. “Get off!”

“Purpled is dead because of you!”

“Oh, is that what this is all about?” Eighty stopped struggling in favor of rolling his eyes. He sounded mildly surprised, but something told Dream it was just a facade. “Sheesh, I just thought you weren’t a morning person. Look.” In the most nonchalant manner possible, Eighty jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Purpled’s over there. He’s perfectly fine.”

Dream snapped his head around. There, right at the entrance of the compound was a boy in a purple sweater. Purpled was alive.

A foot connected solidly with his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. Dream stumbled backwards and fell, sprawling onto the floor. It was a pretty accurate representation of how he felt right now, his entire world view having been yanked out from under him like a rug. He laid there in stunned silence as Eighty got up and dusted himself off. 

“Look man,” Eighty frowned down at him, “I think it’s time to let you in on our little secret.” He offered a hand to help him up.

Dream took it, grumbling from various aches and pains as he got to his feet. Alongside all of the muscle pain he got from yesterday, his back did indeed hurt from sleeping slumped against a wooden wall.

Eighty raised an eyebrow in a “told you so” manner, but didn’t comment on it. “C’mon, follow me. Let’s go outside.”

As they passed by the crowd by the entrance, Purpled caught sight of him and gave him a little wave. There was an oddly guilty look on his face.

How? he jabbed a hand at him, and the kid only shrugged.

“I block-clutched?” he said lamely.

Both of them knew it was a lie. Something else was up.

Dream glowered, sinking further into the fabric of his hoodie. How had he survived? He could’ve sworn he’d seen him fall backwards into the void, pierced through by a blue arrow. After all, he’d seen it enough times last night in his dreams.

Eighty led him behind the compound, past the flat rooftop and onto a narrow ledge between the side walls of the compound and the rest of the building beneath it. He threw himself down on the rickety wood, swinging his legs idly over the long drop below.

Dream lowered himself down beside him carefully, making sure he had a hand on the wall at all times in case his foot slipped. Did the Nolife leader’s apparent disregard of heights have something to do with his guild’s mysterious ability to respawn?

Eighty continued swinging his legs as Dream settled himself. When he was done shifting around, Eighty leaned back and reclined leisurely against the wall.

“Yeah, so we might’ve lied,” he admitted as casually as one would admit stealing from the team chest, “We’ve got respawns.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” He meant to sound betrayed, but it came out sounding pitiful instead.

“Well, it would’ve made us out to be hypocrites, ya know?” Eighty put up a hand. “Nolife. No-life,” he gestured, emphasizing the two words, “It’d be a PR disaster.”

“And you thought your public image was more important than my-” He caught himself. He knew Eighty would find it stupid and sentimental, but he continued on anyways, “-my feelings?”

“Your feelings?” Eighty mocked, “Aww, did Dweam get his feelwings hurt?” For a brief moment, a flash of anger shone through in his eyes, and then it was covered up by annoyance. “Your feelings are what killed Purpled in the first place!” He put his hands out, laying it out to him. “Look, I’m sorry we left you to speedrun the five stages of grief, but you have to understand, this secret isn’t meant to be divulged to just anyone. I’d hoped that we’d be able to get away with no casualties, but your hunter turned the tables on us.”

Dream went silent at the mention of George. No longer did his heart leap with joy at his name. A sense of unease spread through him and he felt sick to his stomach. In the past, they had fought each other with no consequences, but this was serious now. Purpled had died at his hands. 

Eighty took his silence as an indication to continue. “Alright, what do you know about respawn mechanics?”

The terms of his own mortality he knew too well. “Well if you have a rank, you can set your spawn on a bed and-”

“Yeah, that’s how it works, but who does it come from?” Eighty interrupted.

“Hypixel?” he guessed.

At the mention of the city’s owner and namesake, both of them turned their heads up towards the very center of the city. There, the towers piled on themselves, shooting up into a single, solitary spire that pierced the sky like a beacon. All the admins and staff resided there, safe from the rest of the city and most certainly from the death that greeted players at all times. And at the very, very top, even further than the rest, was Hypixel. Cloistered away in his tower above the clouds.

Dream wondered how he slept at night, knowing he had the ability to save everyone but chose not to.

“Nah,” Eighty scoffed at the tower, “Hypixel’s just an ordinary player.” He flicked a hand dismissively. “Sure he’s got power over the game mechanics in his city, but a developer’s got no power over life and death.” 

“Then who?”

Eighty smirked. “The dragon.”

“The one in the End?”

“Yeah, why’d ya think they sent so many hunters after you when they heard you were off to kill the dragon?” Eighty asked, putting his hands up in a shrug, “You’re not that much of a hottie.”

His mind skipped right over the jab, churning into overtime. Once hunters had shown up after him, he’d just accepted it as some fundamental truth. He’d assumed it had been why no one had managed to kill the dragon yet. But after having heard about all the End busters from Hypixel, and the dragon’s own roar during the rush, he got a feeling that this went far deeper than he’d initially thought. 

“I- I thought I just-” he managed to stammer out. The truth was that he didn’t know. He honestly did not know.

“Wait a second.” Eighty seemed to reach a similar conclusion. He slowly turned to him, a pinched look on his face already that he wasn’t going to like the answer to his question. “Tell me, why are you trying to kill this dragon?”

“Oh, I- I read somewhere,” he began, all the while Eighty’s eyes bored right into his mask. “Well, Mcpvp,” he swept out a hand, letting it fall back into his lap, “It was built to keep us safe, but in the end, we got overrun by mobs. Everyone was just, I don’t know, dying around me so I had to do something. I’d heard that the Enderdragon was-” Eighty raised an eyebrow at that, sending Dream stumbling over his words. The more he spoke, the more he got the feeling that it was the wrong answer. He soldiered on, “Endermen come from the Enderdragon, right? And- and endermen are mobs! So by that logic, if I killed the dragon, then I’d stop mobs from spawning.”

Eighty covered his face, and that’s when Dream realized he’d fucked up.

Slowly, slowly, painstakingly slowly, Eighty dragged his hands down his face, seemingly composing himself as he did so. Finally, he took a deep breath.

“Dude, what!?” he almost hollered at him, “You shouldered the hardest boss fight in the whole world for the wrong reason?”

“There’s a right reason?”

“Yes!” Eighty threw his hands up in the air. “The dragon controls respawn!”

It was the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard. “What?” was all he could utter.

Eighty only laughed, scoffing at his dazed reaction. “Seriously, what goes on in that head of yours, man?” He rapped a knuckle against the ceramic of his mask. “Knock knock, anyone home?”

“Stop that.” Dream smacked his arm away. He collected his thoughts again. “Wait wait wait, so lemme get this straight. You’re telling me the dragon somehow, controls who can and cannot respawn?” Saying it out loud just sounded ridiculous. “But it’s just another mob!”

Eighty only shook his head. “Killing the dragon threatens the very balance between life and death.” A smile began to grow on his face. There was something unsettling about his eyes. “Without the dragon, there’s no respawn.” 

At Eighty’s words, his stomach dropped out from under him, plummeting into the void beneath his feet. In its place grew a cold pit of horror. 

“Wait, so if I kill the dragon, I would doom everyone to a single life?” Dream whispered.

No wonder the hunters chased after him so desperately, no wonder fear followed him wherever he went. His mind flew back to that wanted poster in the alleyway. The monster depicted on it loomed over him, trapping him in its shadow.

DANGER TO SOCIETY.

BRINGER OF THE APOCALYPSE.

HERALD OF THE END TIMES.

The titles made sense to him now. He deserved every one of them.

His hands flew to his chest, clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “Am I the bad guy here? What have I done!?”

Eighty seized him by the shoulders, stopping him from spiraling further. “Wait, before you freak out!” he warned him, “There’s more you should know.” He took a breath. “Yes, what Hypixel tells everyone is that you’ll rob everyone of their respawns, but here’s the kicker-” he smirked, “A long time ago, we used to be able to respawn freely. Everyone could respawn.”

Dream slowly turned to look at him.

Eighty grinned widely. “Ahhhhh, you see now? You see why everyone’s trying to stop you from killing the dragon? It’ll destroy their whole social hierarchy!” He threw out his arms. “Ranks, gone! Coins, gone! There would be no point in hiding in cities, not when you can die and respawn as many times as you’d like!”

He paused in his zealous frenzy, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “The End is where all our souls go briefly in between respawns,” Eighty explained more gently now, taking a step back with his revelations. “A long, long time ago, the dragon conquered the End and closed the portal. Then the souls that’d died could no longer return to the living.”

“You’d think that’d be the end of it, that we’d all be doomed to become the endermen the dragon hoards on her island, but us players are stubborn.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Some dude from Cubecraft approached the dragon and made a deal. In exchange for a set amount of respawns, they would stop other players from trying to kill her. The dragon agreed and gifted them an egg.”

“Egg?” Dream sputtered, taken back.

“Hypixel was the one who changed it to beds.” Eighty shivered. “Lemme tell you, it’s a hundred percent better to wake up in bed than having to break your way out of an egg.”

Dream finally connected the dots. Beds, respawn. “That roar- that’s why I heard the dragon’s roar after a bed was broken!”

“Ay, there you go!” Eighty clapped him on the back. “There’s that brain of yours!”

“But…” He ran his knuckles along the bottom edge of his mask, deep in thought. “Why beds?”

“Ah,” Eighty nodded, clearly having the answer to that as well. “Back when everyone could respawn, a voidwalker named Xisuma discovered that you could anchor your respawn point to beds. It had something to do with dreams.”

“Hah,” Dream laughed.

“Yes, I know it’s hard to tell, but I’m actually being serious for once.” Eighty fixed him with a glare. “Dreams are where we go from one life to another, from one dream to another.” His mismatched eyes somehow locked onto his own through his mask. “Actually- do you even understand the significance of your name? Do you understand the terror you wrought when the entire world heard that a player named Dream was about to upend the very nature of our existence?”

His heart sank again. “I don’t- I don’t want to hear any more about how people are terrified of me.” Dream covered his face with his hands. “Stop, just stop.” It was too much, all at once. All that fear, all that hatred, just because of a misunderstanding. “Just please, tell me how you guys do it. How did Purpled survive?”

Eighty arched an eyebrow at his extreme reaction but didn’t comment on it. “Well, there’s more than one dragon out there, and we’ve got a secret benefactor.” He tugged at the dragon symbol sewn on the back of his jacket. “Gotta wear our sponsor’s colors, you know?”

A dragon. In the Overworld. He felt sick. Before Dream could even ponder how much of a threat that would pose for him, Eighty barreled on, oblivious to his growing horror.

“The Universe crafted us out of nothing but stardust and love to respawn without consequence.” He turned his palms up to the sky, as if welcoming its presence before them. “The dragon took it all away from us. Nolife has been fighting it the only way we can, but we could break every bed in Hypixel and that still won’t stop what’s going on in the other cities.” He turned his mismatched gaze on him. “You, on the other hand, you have the ability to do something greater. Maybe it’s the name you’ve taken on, or the story you’ve chosen for yourself, but either way you are far more attuned to the Universe’s will than an ordinary player.”

Dream thrust his hands through his hair in agitation. “How do you know all of this?” he demanded. “Everyone I’ve talked to- Sapnap, Sam, even Bad! No one knew this much about respawn.” Eighty’s knowledge extended far past that of an ordinary player, beyond even that of a city owner. Just what else was the guild leader not telling him? He pulled his hands away from his face, finally looking the man in the eyes. “What are you, some kinda vessel for the Universe’s will?”

“Nah,” Eighty gave him a lazy smile, “that’s what you are.”

Dream sputtered at that ridiculous thought. “Okay well- fine, but that doesn't answer my question. What are you?”

“Me?” Eighty shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”

“And what’s your message?”

“You set out on your oh-so-selfless journey to do- what was it?” Eighty raised an eyebrow. “Save your friends? Prevent another city from falling like Mcpvp back in the day?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t care if Eighty was mocking him again for his misplaced determination, but the end result would still be the same. Even better, actually.

“Then there’s your answer.” Eighty flicked a hand. “You wanted to be the hero of this story? Well here’s your chance. Kill the dragon, free the End.” His words fell like a prophecy. “Only you can reopen the gateway between life and death.”

Dream remained silent, feeling the heavy weight of the entire world settled onto his shoulders. It was as if Eighty had brought the heavens down on him.

The guild leader continued to regard him with furrowed brows, an intense expression on his face. Then he frowned and stuck out his tongue. “Gross, I sound like one of those prophets down in the streets.” He stood abruptly, shaking the plank they sat on and making Dream hold onto his pillar of scaffolding for dear life. “So, you still with us?”

He nodded.

“Ay, glad to have you, man.” Eighty clapped his shoulder, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “I realize that’s a lot to take in right now, so take your time. And maybe go talk to Purpled later, yeah? The kid just died for you.”

His weight vanished from the plank. Eighty went back down the way they came, following the ledge they sat on till it met again with the roof.

Left alone, the full might of Eighty’s revelations came crashing down on him. He buried his face in his hands. This one detour to this stupid city- it had upended everything he’d known. His entire life’s purpose, the one thing that’d kept him going when he’d been cornered with no escape- it was all a lie. A lie he’d told himself, yes, an innocent lie born from simply not knowing any better. It was a lie nonetheless, but there was a certain amount of truth to it. He’d been doing the right thing. He’d been on the right path, now Eighty had only steered him closer.

But the rest- Purpled’s death, how he felt about George- that was simply too much to unpack.

For now, he’d take one thing at a time.

Dream reached into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a crumpled up ball of paper. He’d grabbed it initially with the intent to throw it away, but the other part of him, the side that’d always whispered to him that he’d never be enough, that he deserved all the hate he got, told him to keep it.

He unraveled it now, smoothing the wanted poster out on his thigh. The words on the paper lept out at him.

DANGER TO SOCIETY. BRINGER OF THE APOCALYPSE. HERALD OF THE END TIMES. WANTED DEAD.

His eyes fell on the figure on the poster. The smile stared back at his own.

Dream seized the bottom rim of his mask, pulling it up and over his head. The cool air hit his face and he let out a gasp, drawing in lungfuls of the light breeze. He let his hand fall to the side, resting on the ledge with his mask just out of reach. He didn’t care if anyone stumbled on him just now, whether that be Eighty returning to check on him or another guild member, he just needed something to differentiate between himself, Dream, and the monster on the poster.

His eyes flicked downwards again, now uncovered for the world to see. Eighty’s words echoed back in his head.

Kill the dragon, free the End. Only you can reopen the gateway between life and death. 

His fingers twitched. They found the side of the wanted poster and twisted. The edges split with a quiet hiss, and then he pulled, dragging a long tear across the page with a satisfying ripping sound. He stacked the two halves on each other and tore again. And again and again and again, until it was no more than a pile of small squares in his hand. He scattered them to the air, letting the wind bear them down to the depths of the city below.

Dream laid back with a sigh, letting his head bump against the wood.

He was not the monster they made him out to be.

Chapter Text

Dream returned to the compound with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. The world spun in dizzy circles around him. He wasn’t sure if it had been the narrow ledge he had just braved on his way back, or the whole new world Eighty had opened his eyes to. It was as if the black curtain of night had been drawn away, exposing the stars and the greater universe.

At the back of the compound was a lounge area of sorts. It was situated in the corner formed by the stairs up to the second floor and the wall of tarps sectioning off the living quarters from the main atrium. Colorful rugs and piles of wool serving as makeshift furniture turned it into a comfortable little nook. There even was a grand piano.

In another time Dream would have wondered how Nolife managed to get their hands on that piano considering how expensive it looked, but a heavy haze clouded his mind. He threw himself down onto a pile of wool, letting his body sink into the soft material. He laid there in complete silence for several minutes, emotionally exhausted. He would’ve preferred to remain there, undisturbed, but in the Nolife compound, not even the dead could get a moment of peace. It was not long before the scuffling of hesitant footsteps approached him.

“Hey man.” Purpled’s face popped into his field of view. When Dream just stared up at him blankly, he ducked back out of sight. Moments later, he scooted up next to him again, dragging another pile of wool. The teen flopped down beside him, the two of them reclining in their piles of wool like one would on an inner tube.

Dream couldn’t see him, but his presence burned from beside him. Alive. Alive, alive, alive. Respawned.

“So Eighty told you about the dragon and respawns then?” Purpled finally began, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

The words sent him bolting upright. His chest tightened as he looked at the teen. He was real, not just some kind of cruel apparition.

From beside him, Purpled sat up as well. He regarded him with curious eyes. “Bro, you good?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. All resignations about remaining aloof to prevent people from getting hurt went out the window. People had already gotten hurt. Purpled had died for him. Dream fell forward, wrapping the teen up in a hug.

“Whoa!” Purpled exclaimed in surprise, but hugged him back regardless. “Hey man, you good?” he asked with concern.

He realized he still hadn’t said a word. “I had a sister once,” he blurted.

Purpled stiffened in his embrace, immediately assuming the worst. “Oh geez, dang,” he stammered, trying to approach the situation delicately, “I’m so sorry-”

Dream mentally kicked himself. It was the worst way he could’ve phrased it. “No, I mean like, she’s alive and well at home, I just haven’t seen her in years.”

“Ohhhh,” Purpled relaxed, “Okay, yeah I get it.” He patted his back. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine! I’ve died tons already.”

Dream squeezed him a little tighter. “You shouldn’t have died for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Purpled tried to brush it off again. “I’ve got respawns, while you didn’t. It made the most logical sense.”

Dream shook his head over his shoulder. “I’m supposed to be saving you guys, not the other way around.”

“Hey, you know we know that, right?” Purpled leaned back to smile brightly at him. “That’s why we’re protecting you in any way we can.”

That honest, genuine declaration of loyalty finally broke the dam. The tears that had been collecting at the corners of his eyes spilled over. They trickled down his face and pooled at where the rim of his mask met his chin. His hands instinctively flew to cover his face and he let out a choked sob.

Purpled reacted rather violently. “Oh my god, are you crying?” He jumped up, worried. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry!” He pulled him into a hug again, trying to comfort him, but it only made him cry harder. Purpled clung onto his shaking shoulders. “Please Dream, don’t cry for me!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured him, his voice muffled, “You’ve just helped me realize so many things today. I haven’t had people looking out for me since I left Munchy- Everyone I’d once considered family is hunting me- And-”

“And?” the teen asked patiently.

“I’m not a monster.”

“No monster would cry for someone,” Purpled agreed.

Dream turned away, hiding himself from Purpled enough to lift his mask and dry his eyes. The teen hung on stubbornly, squeezing him tightly around his middle as if he were to fall apart at any moment. “It’s okay,” Dream reassured him again, “I cry a lot, I’m a very emotional person.”

“Oh, geez okay.” Purpled dared to loosen his hold slightly. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an adult cry before,” he admitted, “I don’t know how Eighty does it. I mean, I cry over math all the time.”

Dream let out a wet snort at that. He wiped his eyes for good measure before settling the mask back over his face. His chest hurt. But he also felt lighter.

“I didn’t mean to cause you so much worry,” Purpled plowed on, apologetic as if everything was somehow his fault. “I wanted to tell you, but Eighty has a rule where only he can tell outsiders.”

Outsiders. The word stung. “Makes sense,” Dream sighed, “You wouldn’t want people knowing you’ve got a dragon on your side.”

The teen went silent, pondering something for a moment. “You’re- not going to kill h- it, are you?”

“Who?” Despite sitting pressed up against each other, the space between them widened to a yawning chasm in an instant.

“The dragon,” Purpled said, pulling away and almost curling up into himself. Now the chasm was real. “I know you want to slay the Enderdragon, but please don’t kill the Nolife dragon. He’s cool.”

Dream pretended that the cold space around him didn’t bother him. He shrugged. “Not unless it gives me a reason to.” He slumped back into his pile of wool, his mind shifting back into thinking and analyzing now that all his pent-up emotion had been released. A thought occurred to him. “Wait- how does Eighty know so much?”

“What do you mean?” Purpled asked innocently. 

Dream stuck his hands out, “How did Eighty know that the dragon controlled respawn- that everyone used to be able to respawn. Not even admins know that kinda stuff. How do I know he’s not lying?”

“He tried to kill the dragon too, you know.”

“He did?” Dream snapped his head around. This was news to him. “What happened?”

Purpled shrugged. “It didn’t go well, clearly, ‘cause the dragon’s still alive. He was stuck in the End for a really long time.” He paused for a moment, before deciding to divulge what he had been pondering. “He actually found me there. I used to be an End buster, you know? It was the only thing I had at the time to make money for college.”

His heart sank. Purpled, an End buster. It wasn’t hard to envision the young teen mining alone in the End, dodging the shadow of the dragon only to fill an enderchest and throw himself into the Void. It made a lot of sense, actually. His casual view of dying. This was a kid who had died over and over again, taught to value material wealth over his own wellbeing.

“Wait-” Purpled patted his pockets as if he suddenly realized something, then immediately began to turn them out in a great hurry. “Oh no! All my gold and ems! I lost ‘em when I respawned!” He clapped his hands to his head and groaned. “Darn it, I got so many in that rush!”

Before he could think, Dream was reaching into his own inventory, taking out the stacks of gold and iron he’d looted from Acropolis and shoving the pile towards him. “Here.”

The teen lit up so brightly that for a moment Dream worried he was fueling an unhealthy obsession. Purpled reached out a hand, ready to snatch the riches- before his mind caught up and then he immediately withdrew it. “I can’t take that. It’s your winnings.”

“Think of it as a thanks for saving my life.” Dream was smiling, and he really hoped it shone through in his voice. He shoved the pile towards him again. “I don’t need it, put it towards your college fund or something.”

A head popped over the railing. Dream glanced up to see Walli grinning at him. “Can I have some?” he asked shamelessly.

“No fair, you’ve already taken all my diamonds!” came Sammy’s complaining cry. Moments later, his head also popped over the railing.

Purpled began rapidly shoveling loot into his pockets, needing no more urging. “Back off, this is going towards college.”

The tarps on the wall flew back, exposing Astelic. “Yeah, but I’m in college so you should totally give some to me.”

“Wait-” Dream realized, “Have you all been listening in this whole-”

“Not at all.” Out of nowhere, Chazm plopped himself down on the piano bench next to them, marking him as the owner of the suspiciously fancy grand piano. “A word of advice for you, Dream. If you want to say something that shouldn’t be heard, don’t do it here. You’ll never find peace in the Nolife compound.” Leaving him dumbfounded, Chazm turned to the spectating teens. “Calm down with the money, you guys, we’re not mercenaries.”

“Okay, but we could be,” Purpled pointed out. His face lit up and he turned to Dream. “Oh, we could protect you! We’ll be the Dream Defenders.”

“You mean like the iron golems?” Astelic scowled, “That’s like, too many levels of puns.”

“Okay yeah, but we should totally start a business protecting people. The opposite of the hunters.”

“Dude, we couldn’t even save David,” Sammy muttered.

The circle fell silent again, just like the last time that name had been brought up.

Dream had to ask. “Who’s David?”

A series of looks were exchanged between the group of teens. Finally, Chazm gave a small nod.

“Friend of ours,” Astelic blurted as if she’d been holding it in forever. “Ranked kid, had a tendency to accidentally kill himself out of sheer clumsiness despite having played in the UHC arenas.”

She fell silent, and Dream thought they were going to leave it at that until Walli spoke up.

“We were paid to protect him,” he explained, “Keep him from accidentally walking off ledges or whatever. He made a game out of it, inspired by your manhunt but reversed. He was a huge fan of yours. You were a huge source of inspiration for him.”

“This was before we were known for breaking beds,” Sammy added. “David was a ranked kid, but when he learned about what we really did he wanted to help out.”

“We told him not to risk it, but he wanted to.” Astelic sounded exasperated, but a smile found its way onto her face. “When David is convinced on something, you can’t really tell him otherwise. He said we were his only friends. It was the least he could do.”

“Do what? Break beds?”

“No, we never took him on a rush,” Astelic said with a laugh. She glanced around at the circle of guild members around them. “Can you imagine that guys? He would be falling all over the place.”

Purpled let out a groan and Walli covered his face. Sammy chuckled. “We probably would’ve spent more time saving him than breaking beds!”

“So what did he do then?”

“He was our spy. Our mole,” Astelic said, “As a ranked player, he knew he could walk around Hypixel with no suspicion and pass us info about where people’s beds were and what was on them.”

“What happened to him?” Despite already knowing the answer, Dream felt that it was still kind to ask. To become another person to carry his memory.

“During our last game together,” Astelic began, and then stopped. Sammy put an arm around her shoulder. The others offered her comforting pats. She tried again. “During our last game, David won but never respawned. Someone had broken his bed without all of us noticing.”

“That’s kinda when Eighty went public with the whole bed-breaking thing.” Chazm finally spoke up now, his eyes hard. “He made it known that Nolife was out for revenge. It gave us something to fight for and it tended to win people’s hearts. After all-” he threw his hands out, “Who wouldn’t feel bad for a group of kids who’d lost a friend to the ranks system? It just proves that Hypixel isn’t kind to the ranked either. They’re just there for the money.

Walli rested his chin on a balled-up fist. “It hit Eighty especially bad, since he felt like he directly caused his final death.”

Dream let out a scoff. He couldn’t imagine the guild leader caring about anyone. “Why would Eighty blame himself? There was nothing he could’ve done anyway, short of literally bringing him back from the dead.” Just saying it out loud sounded ridiculous.

“Eighty’s just… extremely protective of everyone in his guild,” Chazm sighed, “We’re his family, even though you’ll never catch him saying that out loud.”

“I think he felt guilty that he didn’t think to-” Purpled caught the warning look in Chazm’s eyes and stumbled over his words, “-get the dragon to protect him. We all assumed he’d be fine since he already had a bed.”

“Right, the dragon,” Dream said carefully. Despite that, hostility almost instantly radiated from the circle of teens around him. Were they really that protective about their dragon? Then he remembered the dragon sewn onto the back of Eighty’s coat. It was their protector, of course they would protect it in turn. He turned to look at Purpled curiously. “Where’s yours?”

“The dragon?” Purpled looked at him with wide eyes, before realizing what he meant. “Oh!” he reached into the neckline of his sweater and pulled out a small silver dragon on a black cord. “Yeah, I’ve got one too.”

“We’ve all got one.” Chazm shifted on the piano bench, twisting around so he could tug on the back of his tailcoat. A dragon was stitched into its back like Eighty’s.

Sammy, similarly, turned around and pointed at a pair of silver wings stitched into the back of his blazer. Two silver dragons hung from Astelic’s ears, and Walli flashed a silver dragon pin on the rim of his cap. Dream couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it before.

It seemed like everyone bore the mark of the dragon.

Chapter Text

Dream stood at the top of the stairs, the wood of the railing rough under the palm on his hand. The second floor of the compound remained unchanged from yesterday, even though it felt like a lifetime ago. After yesterday’s disastrous rush, he was determined to make himself better.

He took a step towards the crates, intent on finding a whetstone to sharpen the broken end of the sword he’d scavenged from the rush.

His foot crunched on something.

He glanced down. Something darkened the shadows around his feet. It was whatever Eighty had so discreetly kicked under the crate yesterday. His curiosity piqued, Dream bent down to retrieve it. It slipped around on the floor for a bit until he finally managed to catch an edge under his fingernails and pry it off the floor.

An oblong disk sat in the palm of his hand, slightly tapered at one end. It was about the size of the circle his fingers would make if he touched his index to thumb. He held it up to the light, turning it this way and that. The sunlight did very little to illuminate it; it was as if it had been coated in some greasy, oily darkness. He idly ran a finger along the raised ridge in the center, then noticed some additional shadows under the crate. He pushed it back and gasped at the sight of several more identical objects scattered on the ground. Something in his mind clicked.

Scales. Dragon scales. So they hadn’t been lying to him. While he didn’t doubt that Eighty was telling the truth after having seen Purpled respawn before his very eyes, seeing physical evidence of a dragon was something else. He’d always assumed he’d see one only once: in the End while he was busy killing it. He simply wasn’t prepared to see one now, in the Overworld.

Dream pocketed the scale before crouching down and combing the floor around the crates. He found several more scales scattered around their bases, all kicked underneath and out of sight. His fingers brushed against a raised edge of wooden splinters, then slipped into a polished divot. With growing horror, he pushed the crate aside to reveal a thick gash in the wooden floor. Claw marks. He popped his head up, scanning the room.

How hadn’t he noticed it before? Across the floor, across the walls, across the pillars. Claw marks everywhere. It was as if a dragon had come in and rubbed itself all over the room. There were even claw marks on the crates! Was Nolife using their dragon to shelve crates??? It certainly brought a silly image to mind. Then his eyes drifted up to the ceiling. The wooden beams were pocketed and dented, perhaps by great wings.

Oh fuck, how large was this dragon?

Dream jumped to his feet, a prickle of unease running down his spine. Benevolent sponsor or not, this dragon could without a doubt cause a lot of damage. He instinctively ducked low behind the crates, slinking behind them for cover as if the dragon were watching him at this very moment.

A rectangle of light fell across the wooden floor.

He turned his head to its source. It came from the room built into the corner of the second floor. In his investigations, he had crept over to it without realizing.

The door was open this time, exposing a small space. Dream cautiously stepped out from behind the crates, ghosting over to peek his head in. It was a normal, if a bit cramped, room. Pushed against the far wall was a desk covered in wanted posters. Above it were several shelves laden with small figurines. Upon closer inspection, they all appeared to be Pokemon. A singular creeper head joined the mass, very real, and very dead. It had been turned into some morbid lamp, with a candle melted into its gaping maw. A window was set into the right wall, letting in bright sunlight.

Under it was a bed.

A real, full bed.

Dream found himself approaching it with a sense of reverence. It was such a mundane object, but he hadn’t seen a real bed in ages. Not since the city he had been born in fell to ruin, and definitely not since he’d gone on the run. It clearly had been slept in, the covers thrown back and the sheets wrinkled. This must’ve been the respawn point of all the Nolife members, gifted to them by the dragon.

Unable to help himself, he stretched out a hand and tapped it lightly, as if to set his spawn. To see if he could set his spawn.

You may not rest now, the Universe whispered to him, there are monsters nearby.

He whipped his head around in alarm. The room was empty. He poked his head out of the doorway and scanned the upper level of the compound. Empty as well. He thought of the claw marks on the walls and shivered.

He tapped the bed again.

You may not rest now, there are monsters nearby. The Universe steadfastly told him.

He dropped his hand and turned, intent on taking the creeper head off its shelf and throwing it out the window. 

“It does that sometimes.”

He whirled around to see Eighty leaning in the doorway, smirking at him as if he’d been there the whole time. He could’ve sworn the upper level had been empty just moments ago when he’d checked. He hadn’t even heard him approach.

The guild leader pushed himself off the doorframe, plucking the creeper head out of his hands and placing it back on the shelf. “It’s not this guy’s fault, he’s too dead to count as a monster.”

“Why isn’t it letting me sleep then?” he asked, “Mobs can’t spawn in the city, right?”

“You’re right, they can’t,” Eighty agreed, “But they certainly can spawn elsewhere and enter the city themselves.” He nudged him with a grin. “Hey, maybe we’re the real monsters here, eh?”

Dream chuckled nervously. “Do part-mobs count as monsters?” He prayed that was the case.

“Nah,” Eighty drawled, crushing his hopes, “Or the hybrid players would go around setting them off, making it impossible for everyone to sleep.”

Dream nodded, deep in thought. Would it be possible for a mob to become a player? Or a player to become a mob? Maybe there was just a lost zombie a couple floors below him in the abandoned tower.

Or maybe something else. Something a whole lot bigger, something he’d already seen evidence of. Something like a dragon.

Did it come and go as it pleased, or did Nolife keep it more like a pet? Would Dream have the misfortune of seeing it himself, or would the guild keep him away from it, knowing his fated destiny to kill the one in the End?

“So what’re you doing here?”

“Huh?” He looked up from where he had been pushing his hand into the bed in thought, the mattress bouncing up against his palm.

Eighty spread his arms out and let them fall to his sides. “This is my room.”

“Oh, this is your room?” Dream scrambled away from the bed, pulling his hands away from touching things. “Sorry.”

“ ‘s fine, most of the guild comes in here anyway,” Eighty shrugged, heading back towards the door. “Being the oldest, everything I have has become public property at this point.” He patted the doorframe, signaling that he was leaving him be. “Well, you’re welcome to look around. Just don’t touch my pokemon, okay?”

“Got it.”

He eyed Eighty’s departing figure warily. Once the sound of footsteps faded away, he tapped the bed one last time.

You may not rest now, there are monsters nearby.

Chapter Text

His dreams were filled with violet eyes and dark wings. Eighty had once implied to him that his name held power- but why was he so helpless now? He woke from one dream into another, attempting to land in reality but only finding an endless cycle of nightmares. One time he thought he’d finally woken up- only for the entire tower below him to explode into obsidian scales. The Enderdragon bore him screaming into the sky.

Despite how his dreams of the dragon ended in his death, the ones with George left him far more shaken. Death was cold and painless to him. He hadn’t ever died yet, his mind simply couldn’t simulate it. But George? George left a deep ache in his heart. His imagination could be a terrifying thing, but emotions rooted in reality hurt far more.

Dream had worked through a great many of things yesterday: Nolife’s secret, the real monster of this story, he even reunited with Purpled. It made sense that what bothered him the most now was the final thing on that list. The final, because it was the most painful. George had been trying to kill Dream since the very beginning. Both of them were all well and fine with it, but George had killed Purpled. Purpled respawned. It was all okay, right? Right?

Daylight finally reached him with the sound of commotion outside the compound. Freed from the clutches of nightmares, Dream tipped himself out of his hammock and drew aside the tarp sectioning off his room. Several other heads popped out of the maze of tarps around him, similarly roused by all the shouting. Murmurs grew around him, and soon he found himself following the trickle of sleep-deprived kids out into the sunlight.

“Technoblade is in the city!” Wallibear was yelling far too loudly for this time of day.

Dream glanced at the sun. It was midday, actually. Scratch that, Wallibear simply yelled far too loud.

“The Blade!” the teen continued screaming, shaking his hands for added effect, “In the city!”

This finally seemed to wake the crowd. Nolife members began nudging each other, chatter filling the air. Their expressions ranged from awe to worry.

Dream felt extremely out of the loop. “Who’s Technoblade?” 

“Hypixel’s favored son. The war pig.” Dream turned to see Eighty walk up to them, crossing his arms. A frown was on his face. “He started out as a non like us, fighting in the Blitz arenas. Made a big name for himself as the Blood God. Even though he’s got a rank nowadays, I don’t think he’s ever died.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Dream had to admit, “Bet I could take him.”

Eighty shrugged. “Nowadays he farms potatoes on the Skyblock ring, so it’s weird that he’s in the city.”

“He wants to fight you!” Walli pointed at Dream, drawing the attention of everyone.

“Me?"

Eighty nudged him. “Looks like you got your wish.”

“Maybe- maybe I spoke a little hastily,” Dream laughed nervously, “I can sit this one out, right? What’s he gonna do? Come find me?”

“Well… he’s got someone with him!” Walli explained hesitantly, “Threatened he’d kill ‘em if you didn’t show your face!”

Dream scoffed. “Who? I’ve got no friends in the city.”

“It’s not one of our kids, is it?” Eighty asked, suddenly concerned.

“Nahhh, he wouldn’t be able to catch any of us,” the teen bragged, “He’s got that hunter guy who-”

George.

Dream seized the kid by the shoulders and shook him frantically. “WHERE IS HE???”

“Mid!” Walli yelped, alarmed.

“What’s mid!?” he demanded.

“The main square in the lower city, it’s one of the few public areas where pvp is always enabled- I can take you!”

“No, you’re not going,” Eighty cut in, instantly taking control of the situation, “In fact, no one’s going other than me, Dream, and Chaz.”

“Oh let’s go!” Chazm cheered, “I wanna see Technoblade crush someone’s skull!”

Dream glared at him.

“...stop,” Chazm corrected himself, shrinking under the fury of his mask, “Stop Technoblade from crushing someone’s skull….”

“You’re only coming in case I need to send you back to call for backup,” Eighty told him, “You’re not fighting.” He turned to the rest of his guild. “The rest of you stay here. If this goes poorly, we might have to leave at a moment’s notice. And Dream-” 

The spot where Dream had been standing was empty.

Eighty spun around in confusion. “Where-?”

“Oh, that brother goneee.” Walli jerked a thumb at a distant green figure hopping over rooftops.

“Really?” Eighty threw his hands up in the air. “Couldn’t he wait until I was at least done talking? I’ve never been more insulted in my life!”

“Wait- he doesn’t even know where he’s going!” Chazm grabbed Eighty’s arm and began tugging him along. “C’mon Eighty! Let’s go before this mans gets himself killed!”

Dream ran like he was being chased by demons. Him fighting George was okay. But George getting threatened because of him? Unacceptable. Worry filled his limbs with an unfamiliar force. His head pounded. Blood rushed loudly in his ears.

It was a relief when Eighty and Chazm finally caught up to him. They were two living presences beside him, grounding him with every thud! of footsteps on the rooftops and intake of breath. They said nothing as they barreled head first into helping Dream save his enemy.

He knew not what compelled them to help him. Their alliance had been struck on Dream taking attention off of them. Dream had done exactly the opposite of that, actually. He’d been more of the source of their problems lately. Not to mention, George had killed Purpled.

Eighty and Chazm led him down the forest of rooftops, out to the lower city. They seemed to recognize his urgency and wasted no time, leaping from tower to tower with little regard for safety. The sky towers slowly shrunk in size, falling to a ring of low buildings surrounding a large, circular plaza. Colorful banners were strung between the great stone pillars that ringed the plaza like monoliths. Several of them had fallen over and crumbled, suggesting the age of Mid. A crowd ringed the plaza, clustering around the bases of the stone pillars. Excited voices floated through the air.

Eighty stopped behind a roof overlooking the plaza, throwing a hand out to signal for Dream and Chazm to stop as well. He put a finger to his lips and stepped over the ridge of the roof. They quietly slid down the eaves towards the edge, where the roof curled upwards slightly to offer a lip to hide behind. Dream carefully peaked his head over the edge.

The hulking form of a pigman stood in the center of Mid. Two vicious tusks protruded from his mouth and his tail flicked impatiently behind him. He was dressed like royalty, swathed in a fur-trimmed red robe and bearing a heavy gold crown on his head. Tucked through his waistband was a diamond sword. That had to be Technoblade, without a doubt.

Dream’s eyes fell to the figure beside him, dwarfed by the pigman’s bulk. His heart lurched at the sight of George. He looked even smaller than usual. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, meant to project annoyance, but Dream could tell by the rapid tapping of his fingers on his arm that he was everything but that. Every inch of him spoke unease. He looked ready to bolt. The only thing keeping him there was the hooved hand clamped securely down on his shoulder.

“This is so stupid,” Dream could hear George mutter, “He’s not dumb enough to come here.”

“Dumb implies a rational decision, or rather, the lack of thereof.” Techno’s voice was deep and monotone. In contrast to his hulking figure, he was surprisingly well spoken. “Dream doesn’t need to think to come here. He simply will.”

A sinking feeling filled his stomach. Dream had bolted out of the Nolife compound without thinking. Despite never having met, Technoblade had already seen through him like a fucking screendoor. He had mistaken Technoblade to be more brawn than brains, and now he was playing dearly. 

“How much longer do I have to be here?” George grumbled, “He’s sure taking his sweet time.”

“Eh, I think he just needs sum’ encouragement,” the pigman rumbled. Without warning, he grabbed George by the neck and slammed him into the ground.

The crowd of onlookers gasped at the sudden display of violence. Dream’s hands flew to clutch his chest, as if he’d been the one slammed into the cobblestone slabs.

“What the fuck?” George hissed. He tried to flip himself over to kick at Techno’s shins, but the pigman only responded by twisting his arm behind his back. “Stop!” he yelped in pain, “Stop, stop!”

Techno leaned down. “Did ya know it takes three twists of a human head to break the skin?”

George instantly stopped struggling and went still. His chest heaved for breath as his eyes turned upwards, searching.

“Get down!” A whispered warning from Eighty and Dream threw himself down behind the rim of the roof.

Techno followed George’s gaze to the rooftops. “Still not here, huh?”

Dream remained hidden behind the rim. In some time in between, he had curled up on himself, trying to clutch both his head and chest at the same time. It hurt. His mind said one thing, but his heart said something else. Something twisted painfully in his chest. He felt like he was being torn in two.

“See, if you hadn’t hurried out of base,” Eighty began, a complaint already out his mouth, “I could’ve grabbed some gapps and pots to tip the advantage more in your favor.” He popped his head over the wall for a quick glance at Mid. “Or at least grabbed some fireballs and spammed the guy to death.”

Down in Mid, the crowd gasped.

“I think the move would be to send Chaz back for pots,” Eighty continued, “then invis the guy and grab George before he notices. Safely in, safely out, no one gets hurt.”

A loud shriek from George said otherwise.

Dream whirled on Eighty. “Can’t you be a little more sympathetic?” he barked at him. Tears were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, but no one would ever know that.

“Fineeee.” Eighty crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t have gotten himself caught in the first place,” he pouted. “Got a plan?”

“I-” A shout from Mid sent his head popping back over the roof, eyes fixated on George.

There was evidence of a fight. In the time Dream had spent ducked behind the roof, it seemed like George had momentarily freed himself, only to get pinned by Techno again. The lenses of his glasses were cracked and his sword had been thrown several blocks away. Red marks were starting to bloom on his arms and neck.

“Why don’t you get it, you daft pig?” George squirmed so he could glare at Techno. “Dream and I are enemies. I’m going to fucking murder him if he dares to show his face.”

Techno gave him a blank stare. “Okay,” he said. He slammed him into the ground again.

The crowd gasped.

“Yeesh,” Eighty whistled, “That’s gotta hurt. Glad that kid’s got a bed-”

For the second time today, Dream acted before he thought.

“Hey wait!” Eighty sprang forward to grab the end of Dream’s sweater, but it was too late. He was a green blur, falling down to the center of Mid.

“He jumped!” Eighty turned to Chazm. “Can you believe it? This guy jumped! What a simp!”

Chazm only shrugged.

“Get back to base,” Eighty ordered, “I have a feeling that things are about to go down to heck.”

Dream landed with a thump, his sudden arrival drawing a collective gasp from the crowd. The mass of players immediately parted for him like water around a sponge, forming a direct path to Techno.

“Technoblade,” he called, his voice ringing out across Mid.

The pigman didn’t even look at him. Instead, he turned to the similarly crowned girl next to him. “Hanna, you’re a fangirl-”

“Hey!” Hanna complained, her hair flaring as she whipped her head around, “Don’t call me names!”

Techno sighed. “Is that the real Dream? Or just another one of his stans? Wanna make sure we got the right one.”

“No he’s not-” George began, but Techno silenced him by tightening his grip on his neck. He let out a strangled gasp and fell silent.

Techno’s blood-red eyes drifted back to his deputy. “Hanna?”

Hanna shrugged. “Seems pretty real to me.” She waved a hand at his aggressive posture. “I mean, he looks really pissed off.”

“Let him go,” Dream demanded, punctuating her observation.

“Okay,” Techno said, dropping George.

The hunter immediately dashed away, not even casting a backwards glance at Dream. Somehow, that hurt just as much as watching Techno hit George.

Techno tipped his head back and sighed dramatically. “Well, looks like I gotta fight you now.” He snapped his fingers at the players gathered around them. “Goons, make sure he doesn’t decide to run.”

Dream frantically searched the rooftops for Eighty. There was no sign of the guild leader. Of course he hadn’t stuck around. Just because Eighty allied with him didn’t mean he was obligated to follow Dream everywhere. He had stretched Eighty’s kindness too far this time. Why had he been naive enough to think Nolife would help him save George when he’d killed one of their own?

Techno’s goons closed ranks around him, blocking off his exit. Dream caught a glance of their faces. To his dismay, they didn’t look like ordinary Hypixel guards. If he’d seen them among Eighty’s guild, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. He hurriedly retrieved his axe from his inventory, holding it defensively in front of him. What had he just walked into?

Across Mid, Techno drew his sword. His long shadow stretched across the flagstones as he stalked towards him.

The first blow fell like a wall of ice. Cold and unyielding. A vicious, antarctic wind billowed around him, and for a moment Dream wouldn’t be surprised to see Techno astride upon a polar bear, especially since he hit like one.

He gritted his teeth, holding his axe steady against the force of his blow. He would not look weak, not during the first exchange of blades. He twisted the flat head of his axe, hoping the release of force would catch the pigman unaware and send him toppling past him. To his disappointment, the pigman sidestepped him, bringing his sword up to catch the follow up cut to his gut. Dream unleashed a series of strikes against him, going on the offensive to prevent himself from getting pressed into the ground.

“Look man, it ain’t personal,” Techno drawled, blocking his hits like it was nothing. “I was just farmin’ my potatoes ya know, but then Simon’s like,” his voice changed, mimicking that of the city owner, “ ‘yo Techno, you gotta go fight this green teletubby who’s gonna destroy our rank system.’ And I was like, ‘heah? this doesn’t impact me, Technoblade never dies, do I look like I care about your respawns?’ But then Simon was like, ‘do you still want Pig rank?’” He threw up his arms, giving Dream a welcome relief. “I was threatened, okay, threatened!” the man whined.

Dream doubted anyone could threaten a fighter like him.

“so it’s nothin’ personal,” Techno finished, clashing his blade against his again, “Nothin’ personal, ya feel?”

Dream grunted as he caught another one of his heavy blows on his shield. “You seemed to take a great amount of personal pleasure beating up George.”

“Oh, that ranked guy?” Techno’s blood-red eyes were hooded, emotionless. “Nahhhhh, I just like beating up the ranked players, makin’ em squirm.”

“You’re ranked too.”

“Earnedddddd,” Techno drawled, clearly bored of the insult that must have been used against him by many others before Dream, “Though I used to break beds for fun back in the day. Had a real win streak goin’. Then it got too tedious to maintain so I stopped. Also Simon offered me a rank.”

Their blades clashed again, locking them into a stalemate as they pushed against each other.

“Hypixel’s favored son,” Dream spat.

The pigman raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking to that Gamerboy, haven’t you?”

That took him by surprise. He let up on his axe briefly to look at him. “You know him?”

“We used ‘ta play pokemon together,” Techno replied easily.

It was certainly the oddest way they knew each other. Dream had imagined them as enemies, or perhaps old war buddies. Now that he thought about it, Eighty and Techno would get along. They seemed to share the same brand of sarcasm.

Techno unlocked their blades with a hard shove, sending him reeling. Their brief moment of casual conversation was over. Dream ducked behind another heavy blow.

Chazm landed on the gravel rooftop, breathing heavily. He had sprinted the entire way back to the Nolife compound. 

“Walli!” he yelled, catching sight of his friend lingering by the doors of the Nolife compound. Several other heads turned. Nolife members began wandering over, looking absolutely bored out of their minds while pretending not to be interested at all in Chazm’s sudden arrival.

Walli rushed over and Chaz whispered into his ear. His eyes widened.

“Dream versus Technoblade!” he announced to the growing crowd of kids. He pointed in the general direction of Mid and began swinging his other arm like he was directing an airplane. “It’s the fight of the century, boys! Let’s go go go!”

A chorus of cheers went up and Nolife spilled out of their base.

Fighting in a city was nothing like fighting in a forest. It felt like a show. A grand extravaganza, Dream versus Technoblade, get your tickets here! Cheers went up every time Techno scored a hit against Dream, and then boos when he fought back. Sometimes the crowd even dared to edge close enough to him that Dream nearly tripped over them several times. After he’d nearly fallen and almost gotten his head lopped off by Techno’s sword, he caught sight of a swift foot retracting back into the crowd. No, they were doing this on purpose.

He was fighting a losing battle. This was a hostile environment, surrounded by people who wanted him dead. His eyes darted around for an escape, but there was none. The crowd only pressed in closer. 

Dream tightened his grip on his axe. They wanted a show? He would give them a show. If this was going to be his last legacy, he hoped the hostile crowd would at least remember how hard he fought till the end.

Techno swung at him again. Rather than blocking with his axe, Dream kicked his sword into the ground and dashed up the ramp his arm made towards his face. He swung his axe out now, aiming for his neck. As he predicted, Techno ducked towards one side. Dream followed through with a swift roundhouse kick. His foot caught Techno right under the chin, kicking his jaw out with a loud popping of bone and cartilage.

“WOOOOOOOOO!” a chorus of cheers went up.

As Dream carried his momentum through with a flip mid air, he caught sight of a row of kids hanging over the edge of the roof, waving their arms in the air and cheering for him. His heart leapt. They were here! They hadn’t abandoned him at all.

A smile rose on his face.

“YEAH SAY WHAT’S UP MAN, SAY WHAT’S UP!” Walli hollered, enthusiastically smacking the wall that his arm was hanging over, “GIVE ‘IM A GOOD OL BAP THERE FOR WALLIBEAR, YA HEAR!”

“Get him!” Hannah yelled, shaking her sword, “Get that pig!”

“Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!” Purpled cheered.

They all let out another collective roar when Dream rammed Techno with his shield, making the pigman stumble back.

“This man’s a god!” Sammy exclaimed, jamming his hands into his hair in utter amazement, “Techno’s gonna get destroyed!”

“HEY!” A row of heads snapped over to see Eighty sprinting at them from an adjacent rooftop, “I told you guys to stay at base!”

“Oops!” Chazm leapt to his feet, “Looks like our time’s up boys, gotta go!”

“Aw, party pooper!” Walli threw at him.

They bolted before Eighty could catch up to them.

Techno stumbled backwards, swaying slightly on his hooves. A hand clutched the side of his jaw in pain.

Dream landed a little whiles away, perching himself on one of the fallen pillars. He took the moment to catch his breath.

With a horrendous cracking noise, Techno popped his jaw back into place. He tried his mouth several times, working his jaw up and down. “Well now you’re done it!” he grunted, “I actually have to try now!” He seemed more upset at having to put in the extra effort than the fact that Dream had nearly kicked his head off.

A thin rod materialized in his hands. Techno whipped it out behind him, a strange whirring sound following its wake.

Before Dream could figure out what it was, something caught the back of his hood, yanking him down from his perch. He managed to catch himself before he fully face-planted on the ground, landing in a roll.

It only served to entangle him even more. String bit into his skin, pinning his arms to his sides. He squirmed and threw himself the other way, unraveling the string from his body. Once the line released him, he surged to his feet, straining against whatever had caught him. Something tore, and then he was free.

Techno snapped the fishing rod away, swinging the hook up and over in the air as he prepared to catch him again.

The crowd let out a collective gasp. Dream looked around, watching for Techno’s next move. But Techno had frozen too, seemingly staring at something behind Dream. He turned his head. There was nothing there but more gawking people. What had caught their attention?

“Whoa, Dream has brown hair?” someone exclaimed.

Panic shot through him. His hand flew to his hood, but only caught thin air. His hood fell around his shoulders, having been torn in two.

“It’s dirty blond!” he yelled, covering his head with his arms. A cool breeze brushed the back of his neck. Eyes fell on him, roving over his exposed features like vultures picking him apart at the seams. He felt burning gazes pry at the edges of his mask, trying to burrow under.

He was so overwhelmed, so unsure what to do that he failed to notice the sword coming at his face.

CRACK!

Blood splattered his vision. Instantly, his hands flew up to cover his face. The smooth porcelain of his mask slipped against his palms, now cleaved in two and slicked by blood. He fell to his knees, his hands clamped so tightly that he felt his nose beginning to bruise. A boot collided with his back, forcing him further to the ground. He fought against Techno’s full weight, but couldn’t brace himself without having to take his hands off his face.

The air swirled around him, stirred by the point of a sword to the back of his neck.

From his perch on the roof, Eighty only shook his head at the scene down at Mid. It was starting to look like an execution.

He had a feeling it might come to this. He’d felt bad sending the kids back, but he didn’t want them to see Dream die.

Chapter Text

Techno’s heel dug heavily into his back.

“Not even’ close,” the pigman drawled, “I was kinda hopin’ for a challenge here, but I don’t know what I was expectin’.”

Dream felt the air against the back of his neck shift again, signaling that Techno had lifted his sword high into the air. Blood continued to pour down his fingers through the shards of his mask. He stubbornly kept it clamped tightly against his face. To save himself meant revealing himself to the world. It would be death by another name.

The sword reached the peak of its fatal arc. Techno let out a thunderous roar. “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD-!”

Blue flights buried themselves into his shoulder.

“HEH!??" the pigman recoiled. For a brief moment, his weight vanished-

Dream kicked his legs out from under him.

“WHA-?”

As Techno toppled, Dream dove into the crowd.

“Goons!” the pigman cried out, a hooved hand clutching the arrow through his shoulder, “Get ‘im goons! Don’t let him escape!”

He heard so much as felt Techno’s goons dive after him. A whistle of air from the left and he threw himself to the side, avoiding a sword coming his way. He ducked and weaved, blindly dodging grabbing hands. Suddenly, a hand seized his wrist in an iron-grip. He threw himself to one side, trying to twist away, but it would be impossible without taking a hand away from his face.

“Dude, calm down, it’s me!” Eighty hissed. Something dark and heavy fell over him, hiding him from the crowd. “Quick, this way!”

Dream nearly cried in relief. The guild leader hadn’t abandoned him to his own poor decisions after all. He nodded and focused only on holding the crumbling pieces of his mask to his face.

Eighty pulled him along, shuffling through the dust as fast as Dream could go without tripping over himself. The sounds of shouting behind them only got louder.

Eighty’s footsteps faltered as he cast a glance over his shoulder. “Oh for-”

Something seized him by the middle and scooped him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing. A thunderous blast of air roared in his ears, threatening to knock off whatever had been thrown over him. Through the cracks between his fingers, Dream saw the ground blur and then shift below him. A sense of weightlessness engulfed him. Then his feet hit the cobblestone ground again.

“What was that?” he managed to mumble.

“I warped,” came Eighty’s voice from beside him.

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Right, like you know how to warp.” Eighty shoved him into an alleyway. He sat him firmly down on a crate. “Alright, coast is clear.” Dream could sense the waves of disappointment radiating off of him. There was also a surprising amount of worry. “Never do that again! You almost died!”

“But I didn’t.” He was almost unintelligible through a mouthful of blood and ceramic.

It made Eighty do a double take. “Wait, dude, you good?”

He was going to drown. Each intake of breath drew in almost as much blood as air.

“Ummmm, gimme a sec.” Warm streams of blood ran down his fingers as he slowly lowered the shattered remnants of his mask from his face. He struggled to keep the shards cupped in the palm of his hands and his movement jostled whatever had been thrown over his head. Before he could grab it, it slid off, blinding him with bright sunlight.

For a moment Dream just sat there, blinking in the bright light as Eight’s jacket landed in a heap by his feet. Then the cool breeze hit his face, crusting the smeared blood, and he realized what had happened.

“AHHHHHH!” he screamed, pulling the collar of his hoodie up and over his head.

“Eek!” Eighty nearly dropped the gapple in his hands. He hurriedly covered his face with a sleeve. “I’m not gonna turn to stone or something, am I?”

The comment caught him off guard, halting his mind just enough to stop its spiral into terror. Dream dared to peek an eye out at him. “What?”

“Stone,” Eighty repeated, “To stone. Like Medusa, right?”

His breath caught in his chest. Slowly he began shaking, wrapping his hands around himself and doubling over. No sound left his mouth. He could feel Eighty eyeing him with great concern.

“Holy frick dude, are you okay? Are you having a panic attack? Should I-”

“MEDUSA!” he wheezed, “YOU THOUGHT I WAS FUCKING MEDUSA!?” A chuckle bubbled up in his chest, blossoming into a full-throated laugh. The utter terror and relief that he’d narrowly survived death by Technoblade welled up inside him, pushing tears out the corner of his eyes.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Eighty demanded. He was trying to sound irked, but there was a sly smile pulling in the corners of his lips. “Am I wrong? I mean, there’s got to be a reason you keep your face covered.”

He reached out and braced a bloody hand on Eighty’s shoulder as he continued to shake in laughter. “Thank you, Eighty, thank you.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand what Eighty had done. Dream had been about to spiral into a full-blown panic attack, the worst thing that could possibly happen right now when they were still in relative danger. Eighty had instantly derailed it with an outrageous comment.

Dream glanced at the guild leader again, who was wearing a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Yeah, that bastard had known exactly what he was doing. Whether it had been a coping mechanism he’d picked up from his own experience he didn’t know, but it certainly had come in handy this time.

“I’m really sorry man,” Eighty added more sincerely, “I didn’t mean to see the- you know.” He pointed at his own face.

“That’s okay.” He sucked in a deep breath, feeling the buzzing static of panic fade away in his bloodstream. “Guess I’ll just have to kill you now.”

Eighty froze. He looked like he was ready to bolt in an instant.

Dream swung his head around. “That was a joke.”

“It was?”

“Yeah.”

Eighty slowly relaxed. “That was a bad joke.”

“Sorry.”

“Seriously, leave the joking to me.” Eighty extended the gapple in his hands to him, a peace offering. “Humor is my coping mechanism.”

Dream reached out for the gapp then hesitated, remembering the chorus of cheers during the fight. “Is the rest of the guild here? Did they see-?” One person seeing his face he could handle, but the rest of Nolife?

“Oh, I sent them back to base.” Eighty waved a hand dismissively. “Didn’t want them to get hurt in case a bigger fight broke out.” He intently shoved the gapple at him again.

This time Dream accepted it gratefully. He bit into the golden apple, feeling its healing magic knit his wounds back together. The cut across his face stopped bleeding, and he wiped a sleeve across his face, leaving a long smear of red on the green cloth.

Eighty picked his jacket up off the ground, dusting the dirt off. Then he got to work scraping together the bloodstained pieces of Dream’s mask up from the floor. “Dude, I thought you were done for!” he exclaimed, carefully piling the shards in his hands. “Thank goodness your lover boy fired an arrow, you lucky dawg.”

His head shot up at the mention of George.

Eighty averted his eyes, suddenly very focused on fitting the ceramic shards back together. “He went down that alleyway by the way.” He jerked his head towards the center of the city.

Was he safe? Was he alive? Did he hate him? He remembered Techno hitting him, and his screams. He had been hurt pretty bad. The urge to run after him only swelled. “Um.”

Eighty watched him struggle to hide in his torn hood and took pity on him. “Here, man.” He tossed his jacket back to him. “Throw it over your head or something. But like, properly this time.” He looked him up and down. “And ditch the sweater. You look like a murder scene.”

His hands flew to his hoodie. So little of the comforting color was left, red eating away at green. “No- I can’t.” He clung to the fabric like it was a lifeline. “Gimme me a nick.”

“Can’t.” Eighty jutted his chin out. “You want George to be able to recognize you? He won’t with the nick. And you still don’t know how to take it off. I’d rather not third wheel again, thanks.”

“But I can’t-”

“It’s fine, we’re doing a trade, see?” Eighty spread his arms out in a placating manner. He looked almost unrecognizable without his jacket, left in a grey sweater over a white dress shirt. “I’ll get your hoodie back to base and see what I can do, and I’ve got your mask too. I’m sure someone in the guild is good at arts and crafts or something.”

The logic was sound. Dream was simply too recognizable, and chances were, Techno and his goons would be out looking for a man in a green hoodie. He just didn’t want to lose anymore of himself today.

He quickly pulled the hoodie over his head and shoved it at Eighty before throwing the jacket on. The less time he spent fully exposed to the world, the better. The guild leader kindly looked away. 

To his surprise, it actually fit him. Eighty must have been around his height. The jacket engulfed him like a pair of wings, dark and protective. In the shadow of its deep hood, he felt himself relax and settle into the darkness. He brushed his hand down the front. It was made out of some sort of odd material. Not leather, but harder. It had a texture similar to fish scales.

“Thereeee you go.” Eighty leaned against the wall. “Better now?”

He nodded.

“Alright, your cutie went that-a-way!” He swung his arms around and pointed. “Be careful with the jacket, okay?” His pupils shrank to pinpricks. “If you lose it, I swear to frick I’ll kill you.” Then he gave him a smile. “Have fun!”

Dream waved in gratitude and took off after George. He found the nearest ladder and clambered onto the rooftops, making it easier to locate George if he had remained on the streets. It took him no more than three blocks to catch a glimpse of blue. Dream hunched over, running low over the rooftop to mask his approach. He gingerly peeked his head over the low wall.

George had stopped in a narrow alleyway. He quickly glanced around him before tucking his bow back into his inventory. Then he leaned back against a wall with a sigh, rubbing at the red marks on his arms.

Dream shuffled closer. The end of Eighty’s jacket swished against the ground.

George’s head shot up and he snapped his head around, sunlight glinting off the cracked lenses of his glasses. Before Dream could make his presence known, he took off, casting furtive glances behind him as if he were being chased.

Dream rose from his crouch, following him from the roof. He tracked the hunter through several side streets and across several alleyways. For such a small person, he was quite bad at concealing his tracks. He guessed he was unused to it, considering he was a hunter.

He stopped when George reached the base of a ladder, taking the rungs in his hands and began to climb. Dream hurriedly descended from his roof before George could catch sight of him from his new vantage point. He hid behind a corner and waited until George disappeared over the top of the building before following him up the ladder. The last thing he needed was for George to spot him halfway up and think that he was chasing him with hostile intentions.

Dream swung himself silently onto the roof. George stood with his back to him, looking down at the busy street below.

He took a step forward and reached out a hand. “George-”

George whipped around and fired off an arrow.

Perhaps he should’ve thought this through more. Chasing after his hunter probably wasn’t the best idea, especially right after he’d nearly gotten him killed just by merely existing. Dream threw himself backwards, dodging the arrow. His foot slipped off the edge of the roof.

“HUEGH!” he gasped, feeling nothing but air under him. But before he could plummet to his death, the back of Eighty’s jacket flared open, catching the air and slowing his fall enough for George to grab his hand. He pulled him back to safety, the two of them stumbling over each other as their momentum carried them away from the edge.

“Thanks!” he exclaimed in relief, but George didn’t reply. Instead he remained frozen in place, stunned by his changed appearance. His eyes found the bottom part of his face not fully obscured by the hood and traced his lips.

Dream tugged the hood down as far as it would go, cloaking himself in shadow once more.

“I thought you were Technoblade,” George finally said. He sounded slightly apologetic.

“I’m not Techno- I mean- I mean, obviously I’m not him,” Dream stuttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to, um, thank you, for saving me back there.”

“Don’t mention it,” George muttered, rolling his eyes under his dark glasses. “You’re so bad.”

“I’m so- you try fighting Technoblade!” he sputtered in indignation. He wasn’t that bad, right? At least not in front of George?

George pinned him with a stare. “Trust me Dream, I did.”

He suddenly became painfully aware of the angry red marks around his arms and neck that contrasted starkly against his pale skin. George had tried to fight Technoblade, and clearly it hadn’t gone well. A nasty bruise was blooming on his face, while all of Dream’s injuries had been wiped clean by the healing magic of the gapple.

“Oh, uh,” he began awkwardly, “One respawn and it’ll all be good as new?” He gave him a wink. Not that he could see it. “I could help you with that.” Ah yes, when in doubt, try humor.

“No thanks.” George moved to cross his arms, but stopped when he tugged Dream’s arm with him.

Both of them looked down in surprise at their still-interlocked fingers.

“Um,” Dream pulled his hand away, his face burning. Oh god, his fingers had been so sweaty. “Sorry.”

George made a show of wiping his hand off on his shirt. His face was red. “Don’t mention it,” he repeated again.

Dream opened his mouth to mumble whatever half-assed apology his frazzled mind had scraped up, but all that tumbled out was: “Why?”

George didn’t look at him. “Why what?”

“Why did you save me?”

“Well, it was just… wrong.” George let his hand fall to his side. “I’m your hunter, you’re my target. This is our fight. Techno doesn’t have a place in all of this. It’s always just been me and you.”

Dream nodded, “If there’ll ever be anyone to finish me off, it’d be you.”

A small smile crossed his face. “And if there’ll be anyone to get me, it’d be you.”

“Not if, when,” Dream corrected him, “You haven’t killed me once.”

“I kill you once and it’s all over for you,” George huffed. As his words left his mouth, a pall fell over him. He turned away. “You shouldn’t have come. You know I’ve got respawns. Techno would’ve just gotten bored and left.”

Dream rushed forward. His hand instinctively chased after his, but he stopped himself. George would surely murder him for that. “I don’t want other people to suffer because of me,” he said earnestly.

“I’m already suffering because of you,” George muttered.

Dream froze. His heart, his traitorous heart, lurched. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“What you just said.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It has to,” he almost pleaded. 

George shook his head in exasperation. “You think too much for your own good, Dream, and sometimes you don’t think enough about your own good.”

He scoffed. “So? Is that a bad thing?”

George whirled on him. “Yes. You’re a self sacrificing idiot and it makes it so much harder for me to keep trying to kill you.” His words spilled out of him in a great hurry. “We’re enemies, okay? What part of that smiling head of yours doesn’t get it?”

He shrugged dumbly. A phrase he’d heard Eighty and Chazm use came to mind. “We’re… tactical crossteaming.”

“Urgh, you’re impossible!” George smacked his forehead, and then winced when he hit a bruise. “Whatever, just… this has to stop, and you should stay away from those bed-breakers.”

His head snapped up. “Why?” He actually quite enjoyed the company of Nolife, thank you very much. “What’s wrong Georgie, worried I’ll get your bed?” he asked sweetly.

His face flushed redder at the nickname. “Just- urgh!” He clenched his fists. “You know, you can sometimes be so annoying Dream, but at least take my fucking advice. There’s something… off about that guy whose jacket you’re wearing.”

“Eighty?” Dream laughed, “Yeah Eighty’s a little odd.”

“Say what you want about him, but don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you.” George whirled around and began to walk away. “I’ve already helped you too much.” He set a foot on the ladder down. “Goodbye, Dream.”

He watched as his hunter disappeared out of sight, leaving him alone on the roof once more. He stood there for a few moments more, pondering his words, before turning and heading back to the Nolife base.

When Dream found him again, Eighty was strutting about in a bright yellow tailcoat. “Nice jacket you got there,” he remarked upon setting eyes on him, “You must be like, super cool! to wear a jacket like that.”

Dream laughed, and then waved him over to a shadowy corner. Safely hidden from the eyes of the rest of the guild, he shrugged the jacket off and handed it back to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Eighty gave him a toothy grin. “Well, did you guys kisssss?” he teased, throwing his jacket back on.

“What- no!” Dream sputtered, covering his face.

“Oh c’mon, all my efforts have gone to waste!” Eighty exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I gave you the opportunity of a lifetime and you blew it!”

It was odd how invested Eighty was in whatever Dream and George had going on. By all means, it should’ve been the bane of his existence considering all the problems it had caused, but the guild leader didn’t seem to mind.

Dream asked him the same question he asked George. “Why did you save me?”

Eighty’s mismatched eyes darted to his. A bolt of terror shot through him. This was the first time Dream had held eye contact in years.

“Dude, seriously?” Eighty jabbed a hand at him. “Are we really doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Pouring out our souls to each other? Yuck, no thanks.” Eighty crossed his arms and turned away. “I saved you because I felt like it, no biggie.”

Dream tried a different approach. “Fine, why did you come with me to save George? You had no obligation to, especially since George killed one of your own guild members.”

“Welcome to Nolife, we never stay dead.” Eighty brushed him off again.

Dream chose his words carefully. “So your respawns… does it make it okay, then? Are we all… good?”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Eighty whirled on him. “Fine, you want an answer, Dream?” His voice took on a hard tone again, similar to the last time he had mentioned Purpled’s death to Dream during their talk behind the compound. “George killed Purpled. Purpled died.” The vicious light in Eighty’s eyes flared, until they were almost glowing. “There’s nothing excusable about that. There’s nothing okay about that.”

It was like he had awoken something in Eighty. Some deep seated, burning anger. Like he was going to rage and rage until nothing was left.

Right when Dream thought Eighty was going to lunge at him and tear him to bits with his own hands, the guild leader caught himself. He took a deep breath, and when he continued, his voice was far more level. “But I’d rather have friends than enemies,” he told Dream. It was more like a sigh. “In this unforgiving world, one atrocity piled upon another makes enemies into friends. Just look at you and your-” his eyes darted around as he searched for the right words, “-your boyfriend.”

Dream froze. Slowly, slowly, he felt his face heat up. He couldn’t imagine what expression must’ve been on his face.

Eighty slapped a hand over his eyes. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just witnessed that with my own two eyes. Here- stop it- stop it please.” He shoved a circle of white ceramic into his hands. “Purpled fixed your mask. Turns out he’s taken ceramics before.”

Dream grabbed it and quickly slapped it over his face to save him from further embarrassment. His fingers found a slightly raised ridge where Techno’s sword had cleaved it in two. Purpled had managed to attach it back together with a combination of glue and clay.

“Thanks.” He clipped it back over his face and breathed a sigh of relief. Safe. He was safe.

“Your hoodie’s out back. Here, you can wear this instead.” Eighty dumped the bright yellow tailcoat into his arms. “Shouldn’t make too much of a difference to your hunter. The color’s are the same to him anyway.”

It surprised him that Eighty was aware of George’s colorblindness. Then again, Eighty seemed to know an unnerving amount of things.

“Can I have my coat back now?” Chazm asked once they’d left the shadowy corner. He tugged awkwardly at the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I feel naked.”

“Tell me about it.” Dream immediately passed his tailcoat back.

The teen brightened as he tugged it back on, dusting off the lapels. He fiddled with the sleeves, straightening the cuffs. When he was finally satisfied, he gave Dream a bright smile. “One moment!” He disappeared around the back of the compound. Moments later he emerged with a neatly folded square of green fabric. “Here you go!”

Dream instantly threw it over his head, burrowing into the hood with a sense of relief.

“Eighty fixed your sweater,” Chazm explained, patting Eighty on the back, “He’s like our mom.”

The guild leader looked disgruntled, as if he hadn’t appreciated Chazm exposing him for the good deed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay mom,” Chazm chirped.

Eighty glared at him.

“Okay, sorry old man,” he amended.

Eighty sighed. “Fine, I’ll take it.”

That night, after everyone had fallen asleep in the compound and the only ones awake were him and the poor kid stuck on night watch, Dream slipped off his hoodie and looked it over in his hands. The tears had been carefully patched up, the person who’d mended it taking care to tuck all the threads out of sight. It had also been washed, returning it to the bright green color it once had been.

He stuck his hand in the large pocket in the front. His fingers brushed against a small lump of metal, still slightly warm from his body heat. Curious, he pulled it out and examined it in the moonlight. A small golden dragon glittered back at him, with two green emeralds for eyes. It was meant to be a gift, clearly, a welcome to the club, but different all the same. There wasn’t a loop attached to it to be worn as a pendant like he’d seen on other members of Nolife; it was more like a small golden statue.

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans for safekeeping.

Chapter Text

Tap tap tap.

Dream’s eyes slid open. 

Soft footsteps tapped on the wood of the roof above him. His mind shot back to that first night with Chazm and Eighty’s conversation on the roof. This time there was only a single set of footsteps. Who would be up at this hour?

It had been several days since his fight against Technoblade. The guild was lying low. Eighty reassured him that Techno wouldn’t come looking for him here, it was just a precaution to avoid stirring up trouble when the city was already buzzing with the news of the outcome of the fight.

After reconciling with George, Dream thought he could finally sleep in peace without dreams plaguing him, but he found that he still could not rest. Wakefulness clung to him with an urgency of life or death.

He rolled out of his hammock, grabbing his axe from where it was leaned up against the wall. Bright moonlight greeted him when he stepped outside the compound. He slipped past the kid on nightwatch and ducked behind the ladder leading up to the roof. Fastening his axe to his back, he grabbed the first rung and scaled the ladder like a swift shadow. He reached the top and slowly popped his head over the edge.

A figure was perched on the far edge of the roof, right over the sheer drop on the other side. The moon illuminated them from the back, cloaking their entire form in shadow.

Dream carefully lifted one foot and planted it silently on the roof.

The figure instantly whipped around, the long ends of their jacket snapping in the air. A pair of mismatched eyes glowed softly in the darkness. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” Eighty sighed when he caught sight of him. He looked extremely guilty for some reason, his back hunched and his hands curled like claws. Like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. “What do you want?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Dream shrugged. He turned the question on its head. “What’re you doing up this late?”

Slowly, a sly smirk made its way across his face. “Solo-queuing,” Eighty replied lightly. “Breaking beds with a team is fun ‘n all, but sometimes I really want a challenge.”

“So you run off in the middle of the night to break beds yourself?” Dream didn’t blame him. Sometimes, on nights where the thoughts in his head got too loud, he’d get up and slay every mob in a hundred block radius. Just to have something to do.

“Yeah.” Eighty shrugged. “These few days have been too quiet, I’ve been itching for a good fight.” He flicked a hand at him. “You look like you could do with one too. Wanna come?”

Dream glanced behind him, as if there was something he needed to check before he left. “Sure.”

Eighty pushed himself off the low wall, swaggering over to meet him halfway. “Here, some blocks, a gapp, and a fireball ‘cause you’re a noob,” he listed as he pulled the items out of his inventory. “Got a bucket?”

“Yeah.” Dream followed Eighty back over to the edge of the roof and handed it to him. “ ‘never leave base without one.”

“Great.” Without further warning, Eighty grabbed his arm and jumped.

His weight instantly dragged Dream over the edge. Panic rose in his stomach, solidifying into a heavy pit the moment they reached that point of no return. Weightlessness engulfed his body.

“Huegh-!” Dream caught himself just short of screaming his lungs out. Wind whistled in his ears as buildings shot by at an incredible speed. They plummeted off the roof, free-falling down to the city below. Suddenly, there was the sound of fabric being pulled taunt, and he looked up to see that the back of Eighty’s jacket had opened again, catching the air a bit like an elytra. In a more controlled manner now, they drifted through the air. Eighty tightened his grip on his arm, adjusting their trajectory. A ledge jutting out the side of a tower rose up to meet them.

Sploosh!

A perfect water bucket landing.

Dream sloshed out of the puddle of water, sopping wet while Eighty tipped it all back into the bucket.

“Next time, please, give me a warning!” he moaned, clutching his chest. His heart felt like it was going to burst right out of him. “I don’t do well with heights.”

“Dream? The Dream is scared of heights?” Eighty gasped in mock surprise. “Sorry man, but it’s the fastest way to get around the city. Short of flying.”

“Do you do this every time?”

“Only when no one’s around.” He glanced around, orienting himself to his surroundings. “C’mon, this way. We’re wasting moonlight.”

Dream followed Eighty through an archway, then an upper courtyard, and through the outer walkways of someone’s house. “Where’re we going?” he asked when they emerged on a street paved high above the ground below. Yellow street lamps illuminated the road with fuzzy cones of light.

“It’ll take too long for us to take out an entire map together.” Eighty ducked into an alleyway. “Luckily, there’s ranked players called MVP plus, who’re just slightly too poor to afford that second plus. So we’re hitting an MVP plus district.”

Dream found himself navigating through twists and turns with Eighty, sprinting across rooftops and edging along narrow ledges with their backs pressed tightly to the wall. In the distance, a large tower loomed over the others, open windows and balconies dotting the sides.

“Here we are.” Eighty stopped on a rooftop adjacent to the tower. His jacket flapped behind him as he turned around to face Dream. “Now unlike the earlier rush, the MVP plus don’t live in houses. They live in apartments in towers like this one. It makes solo-rushes easier, we won’t have to traverse as much ground.” He pulled out a stack of blocks. “Cover me as I bridge.”

Not a single soul stirred as they slowly crossed the gap between the towers. The bright light of the moon rendered them two dark figures set against the night sky.

Eighty began staircasing up, aiming for a window left carelessly open.

Dream caught his shoulder. “Wait, won’t they be asleep?” he whispered.

“What, you think I’m dumb?” Eighty shot back, “I scouted earlier, most people here are gone for parties.”

“They have parties?” Dream wondered out loud, “About what?”

“I dunno, I guess when you’re rich and have nothing else to do, parties are what you do to fill up all your time.” Eighty crept forward again. They dropped through the open window directly into the bedroom, where the telltale sign of a defended bed rose as a mound in the shadows.

Dream checked his surroundings. There was no one around. It was completely unguarded.

“There’s no way it’s that easy,” he scoffed, taken back.

Eighty shrugged, as if to say sometimes it is. He took out his bed-breaking axe and brought it down on the bed defense. They simultaneously flinched when the axe head made a horrible screeching sound and skittered off like it was nothing. Eighty made a face and gave it another hit. The block didn’t break.

“Obsidian?” Dream whispered. In the darkness, it was hard to tell what color the block was.

“No way, who can afford a whole outer layer of obsidian?” Eighty whispered back. He opened his inventory and sorted through his tools. “Wait a minute.” He pulled out his pick and tapped it against the block. It broke. “Clay?”

“Yeah?” Dream blurted.

“Wow, clay, I love clay, it’s the best block in the game!” Eighty complained, waving his pick around wildly, “Who even uses that on a bed defense?” He finished mining through the two layers of clay and triumphantly brought his axe down on the bed. It broke with a horrible roar of the dragon. “Well, job done,” he proclaimed, dusting his hands off, “Wasn’t as much of a challenge as I’d have hoped, but I guess it’s nice to have a chill night for once.”

Dream waited for enemies to come leaping out of the shadows at his words. But nothing came.

“I think I know what happened,” Eighty said as they edged their way over to the next window, “I don’t like telling people about this because it makes us look bad, but it’s sometimes the truth.”

“What is?” Dream asked, trying to keep his back pressed as close to the wall as possible.

“Hypixel wanted us to break that bed. It was a free bed.”

“What? But I thought-”

“You know you have to pay a certain amount every month to keep a rank, right?”

Dream turned to look at him, ignoring the steep drop below his feet. “It’s not a permanent thing?”

“Course not, it’s Hypickle we’re talking about!” Eighty scoffed, “If you don’t make the payment, your rank goes away. But Hypickle likes to play the good guy and lets you keep your bed, ‘cause there’d be public outcry if they didn’t.”

“Then can’t you get a rank for like, a month, and keep your bed afterwards?” Dream asked. If that was the case, then maybe he should see if he could get a rank. If he didn’t get arrested in the process.

“Exactly, and they don’t want people doing that or they lose all their money. The solution? Pull all the guards away.” Eighty stared at him expectantly.

The realization dawned on him. “Because Hypixel knows you’ll come break it.” He pointed an accusing finger at Eighty. “You’re part of the system!”

“We are.”

“Then why do you keep playing right into their hands?”

Eighty rose from the ledge like a monolith of black and grey. “What’s our other option?”

The other option would be to simply lay down in defeat. “There is no option, isn’t there? You’re not just going to take this lying down. Sorry I implied otherwise.”

To his surprise, Eight shook his head. “No, no, I didn’t mean that rhetorically. There is another option.”

“What?”

Eighty’s mismatched gaze fell onto him. “You.”

“Me.”

Eighty’s words came floating back to him.

Kill the dragon, free the End.

Only you can reopen the gateway between life and death.

Chosen one.

Prophecy.

The next rush they weren’t so lucky. Immediately, a call went up in the night and players swarmed onto their bridge.

“Oopsie!” Eighty immediately downed a jump potion, leaping up and towering above them to safety. When the defenders began towering up to him, he leapt off his pillar, smacking them off with his sword. A player on a nearby pillar unsheathed their sword, preparing to jump.

“Annndddd- lag back!” Eighty slammed a block down just as the player landed. Their feet clipped right through the block and glitched out. Like a rubber band, their body shot between the two positions, top of the tower and the block on the bridge, before finally materializing in the air and dropping them into the void.

“Haha! I love lag back!” Eighty threw his head back to check on Dream. “You good man?”

It’d taken him slightly longer, but he’d perched himself safely on atop a tower. “What was that?” he asked, appalled by the odd manner of death.

“Sometimes we move a bit too fast and the Universe can’t keep up.” Eighty put a finger to his lips with a smile. “It’s a secret only the best bedwars players know.”

A fire ball flew overhead, slamming into Dream’s pillar. He yelped and leapt off, catching himself on the side of the bridge with a block-clutch.

“Alright, we’ve been in one place for too long.” Eighty took a running start and leaped over him, aided by his jump boost. “We’re outta here!”

Dream tried to follow, bridging as fast as he could. He never completely learned how to speedbridge, his time in the past couple of days had been eaten up by that time-consuming task of not getting killed.

Several armored guards hauled themselves onto his bridge. Dream hesitated, contemplating drawing his sword and facing them. Then more guards pulled themselves onto the bridge, and more.

He crammed his hand into his inventory, searching for something to get him out. A potion, an enderpearl, anything. His hand fell on something roughly spherical and he pulled it out.

The fireball glowed softly in the palm of his hand. For a moment, he was entranced by its soft glow, now even more pronounced in the darkness.

Then he remembered the guards.

One of them leapt at him, lashing out a sword to slash his ankles.

Dream let out a yelp, and on instinct, slammed the fireball in front of him like he’d seen Wallibear do.

BOOM!

It didn’t feel real. One moment, he was on the bridge. And the next-

He caught sight of the moon.

It was below him.

He was quite high up, wasn’t he? The guards certainly couldn’t get him, but he was also free falling. The bridge had vanished in an explosion of fire and smoke. Wind rustled through his hair. In the moment between heartbeats, he caught sight of the ground. It wasn’t too far down, but still high enough that he wasn’t going to make it. Instinctually, he reached for his water bucket.

Oh. Oh no.

He’d given it to Eighty.

As the wind rushed up through his clothes and he struggled not to scream, he imagined the headlines.

Yearlong Manhunt Ends After Speedrunner Falls to Death Trying to Fireball Jump.

Of all the ways he’d thought he’d go out, this was by far the dumbest. The ground got closer and closer. Any moment now…

CRACK!

No, that wasn’t his back.

Something exploded in his pocket, spraying a fountain of green and gold particles into the air. All at once, a million effects slammed into him, the air in his lungs burning as blinding magic stitched his body together. Was he respawning? Could he even respawn? Had Nolife’s mysterious dragon benefactor somehow taken him under its wing without him noticing?

The dragon. He remembered that small, golden dragon he’d tucked into his pocket a couple of nights ago. It wasn’t just a trinket, it had been a Totem of Undying.

Dream sat up with a gasp, drawing lungfuls of air into his chest. The flagstones he had just seen far, far below him were warm under the palms of his hands. He was alive, alive, the death hadn’t been real.

There was a giant rush of air, buffeting his clothes and ruffling his hair. Hands grabbed his arms, steadying him.

“Dude, I literally gave you a totem three days ago and you use it the first time we go out?” Eighty pulled his arm over his shoulders, hauling him to sit upright. How did he get here so quickly? Dream could’ve sworn he’d fallen hundreds of stories down. He hadn’t even heard the telltale splash of a water bucket.

“C’mon you idiot, you fireball jump like a noob.” Eighty tried to pull him to his feet. “Up up up!”

Dream only slumped against him, blinking woozily as the effects from the Totem began to clear. “Lemme rest,” he mumbled, “My head’s killing me.”

“No time for that, I’m afraid.” Eighty dragged him to his feet. “No rest for the wicked, and even less for the righteous.”

Dream swayed dangerously.

“No no, none of that!” Eighty grabbed him before he could pitch over and poked him upright again. “C’mon, we gotta get you back to base.” 

Eighty complained the whole way as they ascended back to the sky bridges and roads where players now dwelled. “Aw, we were gonna break more beds today, I was really looking forward to it!”

Dream just stared at the ground as it passed under him, thoroughly winded. Pre-dawn light slowly crept through the streets. The sky lightened to grey. Movement stirred in the corner of his eye. He blinked in confusion.

From his vantage point in a dilapidated tower, he watched a small figure pick its way across the street.

“Wait.” Dream reached out and caught Eighty’s shoulder. “Is that George?”

Eighty leaned over to peer at the small figure. “Oh hey! What’s he doing out and about at this hour?” He grabbed Dream and immediately began tugging him towards him.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” he exclaimed.

Eighty pulled him around the side of the tower and crouched behind a pile of rubble. Together, they watched George vanish into one of the apartment towers across from them. Moments later, a light illuminated a bedroom.

Eighty’s next words were like those of a hunter. “Gotcha,” he smirked, flashing a smile of sharp teeth. He got to his feet. “C’mon, we’re getting the rest of the guild.”

Dream’s heart pounded in realization. This was it. They had found George’s bed. Now it was only a matter of breaking it. “A whole guild against one person? That’s hardly fair!”

Eighty whirled around. “Do you think the, what, five hunters sent after you cared at all? No, we’re going overkill.” He jabbed a finger at the ground in emphasis. “You wanted to break your hunter’s bed? Well, Nolife’s the best bed-breaking guild and we deliver.”

Chapter Text

Nolife descended like avenging angels. For once, Dream had an idea how the hunters felt when they closed in on him. The amount of confidence in the air was… terrifying to say the least. But knowing his prior escapades, it almost made him feel like something was destined to go wrong.

George seemed to know that they were coming. As soon as Sammy set a block against the side of the roof and began speedbriding, an arrow soared out of a window and struck, quivering, to the corner of the block. Sammy let out a yelp and jumped backwards.

“Oh c’mon, stop bow spamming!” Eighty yelled and shook a fist, “Boooo!”

A head popped up in the window of the bedroom. “It’s not fair,” George complained, “It’s five of you against one of me.”

“You didn’t seem to have that problem when you were hunting Dream,” Purpled yelled before Dream could cut in. 

George’s response was another arrow.

“Alright guys, whatever,” Eighty groaned. He brushed past Sammy. “Gimme your blocks, I got this.”

Sammy handed his stack to him. “Be careful, Eighty.”

Eighty hurriedly built a wall, then hopped over it and began rapidly breezilying. He let out a yelp when George fired another arrow, then quickly threw up another wall and hid behind it for a breather.

“C’mon guys!” Eighty waved at them with blocks in hand. “Just bridge a bit, put up a wall when he shoots, then keep going while he nocks another arrow. It’s easy.”

Emboldened by his encouragement, the rest of Nolife bridged out. Purpled followed behind Hannah as she bridged, throwing up a wall along the side to provide cover for the rest of the guild members. Sammy started a third bridge to approach George’s window from another angle.

The strange sound of something mechanical being loaded rang out in the air.

“Leave me alone!” George yelled, raising a long cylinder to his shoulder and sighting down the barrel.

Eighty recognized it immediately.

“He’s got a gun!” he yelled, knocking Purpled to the ground, “Everyone get down!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

There was a horrific scream as Hannah exploded into a shower of particles.

“Hannah!” Purpled yelled, but Eighty grabbed him before he could throw himself into the line of fire.

Bullets streaked through the air as the remaining guild members dropped to the ground and threw up protective walls. Dream threw himself behind Eighty’s wall, that being the closest to reaching George.

“You didn’t tell me your hunter had a gun!” the guild leader hissed at him, “You almost just got us all killed!”

“I didn’t know!” Dream splayed his hands out.

Eighty covered his face with a hand. “He’s been hunting you for over a year, what do you mean you didn’t know!?”

On all his hunts George had only ever used a bow. “He had to have just gotten it, he’s never used it on me before.”

“Course not, lover boy,” Eighty gritted out, “He’d never do such a thing to you.” He turned to him, mismatched eyes blazing. “Hang on, what did you say this guy’s name was? George what? There’s no way that’s all of it.”

“Uhhhh.” His mind shot back to when Sapnap joined the hunting party. What had George introduced himself as? “...Georgenotfound, I think.”

“Notfound?” Eighty thought long and hard for a moment. “Hmm, doesn’t ring any bells. Are you sure he didn’t go by something else back then?”

“I think his family name was abbreviated as HD?” Dream offered, still unsure how this would help them.

That must have been it, because Eighty’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s George HD?” he hissed, jerking a thumb at the sniper behind the wall, “How the frick are you not shot full of bullets yet?”

His heart sank. George had a reputation? “Wait, did you know him?”

“Know him? No. Heard of him? Yes.” Eighty suddenly seized him by the front of his hoodie, dragging him closer so that his furious gaze was inches away from his mask. “You’re telling me that George HD has been on your tail since god knows when and you didn’t think to tell me?”

He shook his head. He’d never seen Eighty so disturbed before.

“Ever heard about a city called Mineplex?”

Of course he’d heard about Mineplex. Everyone had heard about Mineplex, at some point. After Mcpvp fell, most of the refugees had gone to that city. Then rumors spread about Hypixel having discovered the secret to respawning, and everyone had flocked there instead, leaving the Mineplex to dwindle away.

“That man,” Eighty jabbed a finger in George’s direction, “was global elite in Minestrike. If your idiot brain doesn’t know what that means either, basically, if this guy had a gun at any point during your little manhunt, he could’ve trickshotted you for fun and not broken a sweat.” He shook him violently again. “How are you alive?”

Dream gave him a shove, breaking his grip on his hoodie, “If he was that famous, then why did he change his name?”

“Well of course he changed his name, nobody wants to be associated with Mineplex these days,” Eighty scoffed, finally letting go of him. “You’ve caused enough trouble for me today with your ignorance. What I suggest you do now is get up and walk over to him.”

“Are you insane?”

“You’ve made enough of a mess for us. He’s not going to shoot you.”

“No!”

BANG!

They flinched, and Sammy disappeared with a yelp.

“Now!” Eighty roared. He gave him a shove, forcing him out from behind their wool wall.

Dream stumbled, catching himself before he could fall flat on his face. He quickly put his arms up. “Wait George- it’s me! Stop!”

The rifle swung towards him and stopped. “Don’t make me shoot you, Dream,” George threatened, not taking his eyes off the scope.

Dream froze. George wouldn’t shoot him, would he? Not when he knew he only had one life.

“Great, now stab him!” Eighty called from behind the wall.

Dream whirled around. “I can’t do that!”

“C’mon, it’s easyyyy.” Eighty waved his sword in the air. “Just take your sword and do a little stabby stabby- HEY!” he yelped when George promptly shot it out of his hand.

“George stop, please!” Dream begged him, “We can talk about this!”

“I’m in the middle of a fucking warzone, Dream,” George muttered darkly. “Maybe if you get these guys to back off, then we could talk.”

“Here’s an idea!” Dream panicked, “What if, like, we broke George’s bed but left him alone? Everyone lives!” he laughed nervously.

“Like the hell we’ll leave him alone!” Astelic yelled from behind her wall. “He killed Hannah and Sammy!”

“At least that’s something we all can agree on.” George lowered his rifle slightly. “Maybe I might trust your word, Dream, but I don’t trust anyone else’s.”

That subtle declaration of trust made something lurch in his chest. The urge to shield George from harm only grew stronger. “Fine! Fine! We’ll stop attacking you!” Dream said frantically, putting his hands out in front of him.

“WHAT?” Eighty squawked.

Dream turned around desperately. “We have to!”

“Oh my god you two are insufferable!” Eighty groaned, covering his face. “Do you wanna break his bed or not?”

“I’ll do it!” Purpled vaulted over the wall.

BANG!

He instantly vanished in an explosion of smoke.

George lowered his rifle in confusion. “Wait, didn’t I kill that guy last time?”

“YOU’RE NOT TAKING ANY MORE OF MY KIDS!” Eighty vaulted over the wall. In two quick steps, he leapt off the bridge and took George completely by surprise.

“AAAAAAA!” George shrieked, firing off several shots at close range.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Eek!” Eighty grabbed the barrel of the gun and flipped himself up and around, contorting his body mid-air to avoid the bullets. “Eek! Eek! Eek!” Several holes appeared in the tail-end of his jacket. When he landed back down, George twisted the rifle in his hands and fired again.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Eighty!” Chazm cried out.

Eighty grunted in pain, elbowing George in the face. His hands were firmly on the rifle again, wrestling it out of his grip. George hung on stubbornly.

BANG! BANG!

As the rifle rocked back with recoil, George’s foot slid backwards. Eighty instantly caught on. He threw his weight against him, hooked an ankle under his, and swept his feet out from under him in one clean motion. 

“DREAM!” George shrieked as he fell.

“I didn’t do anything!” Dream cried out in horror.

George hit Eighty with the butt of his rifle, but the guild leader refused to let go. “Do something!”

“Do what?” He didn’t know who to help. His hands tore at hair in panic.

“Die!” Eighty swung George’s rifle around, gave him a final shove, and sent both of them toppling off the bridge.

His nightmares were unfolding right before his eyes. “George!” Dream leapt forward, one hand reaching down, down, down-

Bang!

A final shot rang out in the air, and then silence.

Dream looked up to meet Chazm’s horrified eyes.

“Well, what are you waiting for!?” The teen threw his arms up. “Go break your hunter’s bed! Enough of us died for this…” he muttered, more quietly.

Dream nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He dashed down the bridge, leaping onto the balcony and pushing his way inside. A bed defense of endstone rose before him, and he wasted no time in getting out his pick to break through it. The last block broke and-

No bed.

His heart sank. It had all been a ruse. Of course, it had been too easy, far too easy. Confidence had made them bold. Dream ran back out to the balcony, lost for what to do. Two pairs of eyes looked back at him.

“Well, did you do it?” Astelic asked, exhausted.

He shook his head. “It was a decoy.”

Chazm’s eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped. Astelic patted his back reassuringly. “Well, sometimes that can happen. There’s nothing we can do except to return to base.” Something in his eyes spoke of something far graver, but he didn’t elaborate. Wordlessly, the two of them turned and limped away, leaning heavily on each other.

Dream turned to follow, casting one last glance at the scene they left behind. All that remained were unfinished bridges, four missing guild members, and a warzone riddled with bullet holes.

Chapter Text

The full consequences of their failed rush came crashing down on Dream the instant they returned to base. Three of the four dead guild members were huddled by the door of the compound, uncharacteristically quiet. Purpled caught sight of them as they approached, running out to meet them.

“Eighty!” he cried, his eyes wild, “Where’s Eighty?”

“Wait, he’s not with you?” Dream asked, “I thought he could respawn!”

Chazm detached himself from their group, letting Purpled pull him into a hug. “Eighty fell taking George with him,” he mumbled over his shoulder.

Hannah and Sammy joined them with Walli trailing behind. He had missed the rush, but he clearly understood the outcome by the look of pain on his face.

Purpled’s face fell. “No one died after him, right?”

“No, Chaz and I were the only ones left after that,” Astelic confirmed, “So there’s that.”

“Wait wait wait.” Dream hated to cut in when the teens were clearly grieving and lost without the presence of their leader, but he had to know. “Eighty can respawn, right?” he demanded, “He can respawn?”

“He… can,” Chazm confirmed, but his ashen face suggested otherwise. “It’ll just... take a while.” He turned to Purpled. “Go to the Skyblock players and see if you can get some blaze rods and ghast tears off of them.”

“But the Skyblock market-” Purple protested, “I don’t know if I have enough gold or ems to trade.”

“Take it from the team chest.” Chazm turned to the group of gathered kids. “If we pool all our resources, that should be enough.” He opened his enderchest and began pulling out stacks of gold. Following his lead, the other players began spilling their loot out, scraping it into a growing pile of offerings for the return of their leader.

“Why can’t he just respawn normally?” Dream paced agitatedly around the circle of kids. Something was different about Eighty, but his guild stubbornly refused to tell him. He was impressed by their loyalty to their leader, but frustrated that they continued to keep secrets from him. “You have to tell me what’s going on here so I can help.”

“All you need to know is that we need blaze rods and ghast tears,” Chazm said curtly, but not unkindly. “Sorry man, but I don’t think it’s our place to say. Maybe when Eighty respawns he’ll tell you.”

He stared at the teen for a long moment. Chazm steadily returned his gaze, jaw locked and nothing but fierce determination in his eyes. He saw why the other guild members deferred to him as the de facto leader with Eighty gone.

“Alright, I can work with that,” he ceded. “I know someone in Skyblock. I might be able to get you what you need for a lower price.”

“You do?” Purpled grabbed his arm. “C’mon then, there’s no time to waste!” He scooped up an armful of gold and stuffed it away into his inventory. “Forget it guys, we’ll just take what we can. The longer we wait the more danger we’ll-” He slapped a hand to his mouth. His eyes went wide, darting to the other members of the guild. 

Chazm crossed his arms. Clearly, it was something he wasn’t meant to say in front of Dream.

“Danger?” Dream repeated. Normally, he wouldn’t press it, but this seemed to be life and death.

Purpled’s eyes shot to Chazm again. “We… can’t respawn without Eighty,” he admitted, “He’s the one who made the… uh, deal with the dragon. If he’s dead we can’t respawn,” he finished quickly.

The circle of guild members looked grave.

Dream only nodded. “Alright then. So I just carry on as I always have,” he said with a false bravado, hoping it would calm the rest of the guild down. Without Eighty’s presence, he was startlingly aware that he was the oldest of the group now. While he was no Eighty, perhaps there came wisdom with age. 

Sammy rubbed the spot over his heart where he had been hit. Sometimes phantom wounds still ached after respawn. “You’re very brave,” he muttered.

Dream gave him a smile, but the teen couldn’t see it. “I try to be.”

Dream and Purpled stood at the center of Mid. The trip down had taken longer than usual. Purpled had become extremely cautious, to the point where he’d refused to cross even a one-block jump without bridging. Normally he’d poke fun at him since he’d only gone hours without a bed when Dream had gone his entire life, but he couldn’t find it in him.

“So you said we can warp to a Skyblock island?” Dream asked, studying the pattern etched into the center of Mid. Neither of them was nicked, but the people stepping onto the warp pad around them paid them no heed, instead vanishing into streaks of light as the city warped them elsewhere. Had Dream become a fully-fledged developer like he’d once intended, he’d have been able to warp on his own.

“Yeah, you just do /warp and type the person’s name,” Purpled confirmed. “Do you want me to-”

“It’s okay, I think I got it.” Dream entered the command. He offered his hand and Purpled took it. The teen held on tightly as Dream activated his command.

His breath hitched in his chest. The world contorted, stretching in ways dictated impossible by geometry. Mid fell away, breaking into squares of light that lengthened and stretched into the deep darkness of the void. He felt his own body stretching as well, being pulled apart and reassembled.

A heartbeat later, the world fell back into place around them. They reappeared on a small floating island. A small bridge led to the second, far larger island. Several blocky buildings overlooked some half-tilled farmland.

“Nice place,” Purpled commented dryly as he followed Dream across the bridge, “So how’d you meet this ‘contact’ of yours?”

“I was on the run, needed some illegal items and he delivered,” Dream reassured him.

In the distance, the door of the building opened, revealing a lanky teen in an ill-fitting suit. His brilliant blue eyes lit up when he caught sight of them.

“HELLO BIG MAN!” he bellowed, waving excitedly at them with both arms. His grin couldn’t have possibly been bigger.

“Tommy,” Purpled deadpanned, “TommyInnit is your secret contact.”

Dream looked at him in surprise. “You know him?”

“Do I- Everyone knows him!” Purpled threw his arms out. “Who hasn’t been scammed by TommyInnit?”

Tommy scammed people. Of course. For some reason, that didn’t surprise him.

“GENTLEMENNNNN!” Tommy grinned, spreading his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome to Innit Enterprises!”

“Hello!” Dream called as he walked up to him. “I trust you’ll keep this meeting confidential?” He stuck out a hand and Tommy shook it enthusiastically. There was a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

“Of course Big D, what kind of rule-abiding citizen do you take me as?” Tommy put up both his middle fingers. “FUCK DA POLICE!”

“TommyInnit.” Purpled regarded him with distaste. “I know you.”

“And I know you too, purple boy.” Tommy shook a finger at him, trying to remember. “You was- you was part of the, uh, bed-breaking people, right? The bed-breaking people.”

“Correct.” Purpled folded his arms. “So if you try anything, anything at all, you’re dead.” He took a subtle step in front of Dream.

Tommy caught it instantly. “Oh don’t you worry, Dream and I go way back, waaaaaaay back!” He threw an arm around Dream and leaned heavily on his shoulder. “Don’t we Dream?”

“Er, right, yes.” Dream peeled the kid off him. It was unfortunate that they were roughly the same height.

Tommy dusted off his suit. “So, you lookin’ fo’ something to buy?”

“Blaze rods and ghast tears,” Purpled said curtly.

“Well you’re just in luck, I’ve just had a fresh shipment of blaze rods and ghast tears from the Nether!” Tommy reached into his pockets and produced a handful of rods and a pouch of tears.

Dream took them reverently into his hands. With this amount of blaze rods, he would only need enderpearls to have enough eyes for a portal. But he shoved that thought down. Right now, respawning Eighty came first, especially since he was directly responsible.

“So!” Tommy flipped a golden coin in the air and caught it. “How you paying, boys?”

“It depends,” Purpled said, “How much you charging?”

“Since you’re with, well,” he smirked and bounced his eyebrows, “-Dream, I’ll say….two hundred for the rods and eight hundred for the tears.”

“Ummm….” As someone who’d spent most of his life sleeping in bushes, the numbers went right over his head. He glanced at Purpled to gauge his reaction.

The teenager’s jaw had absolutely dropped. “One thousand???” he exclaimed in disbelief, “You’re insane! There’s no way!” He stalked right up to Tommy and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Just because Dream here has no sense of monetary value doesn’t mean you should take advantage of him. I know exactly what you are, TommyInnit, and you’re a no-good, lying, cheating, scammer!”

“Whoa man, I don’t go around saying you’re a good-for-nothing terrorist now do I?” Tommy shot back, crossing his arms. “One thousand, take it or leave it. Bet you can’t get any better than that from anyone else.”

“Is...is a hundred better?” Dream tried. A hundred was a smaller number, right?

Clearly it was, because Tommy’s head snapped around faster than an arrow. “Who do you think I am, Dream?” he demanded, offended, “I’m a businessman, I do BUSINESS! If I do what you’re asking me to do, why, I’d practically be giving this stuff away for free!” His voice shot up in disbelief.

Dream shrugged, “Well if what Purpled was saying is true, then chances are you’ve gotten this stuff pretty much for free as well.”

Tommy actually had the audacity to look offended. “Well excuse me Dream, but I don’t like what you’re accusing me of here. I am a one hundred percent legit businessman. They call me Tommy Trusty, you know.”

“Sure,” Dream laughed, “Sure.” He had to applaud the kid for his acting skills here. “Is there anyone else we could go to that might be able to get us what we need for less?”

Tommy rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, I could send you to my mate Tubbo,” he grumbled.

“Don’t go to Tubbo,” Purpled cut in, “Tubbo’s worse, because he’s actually smart. That kid’ll scam you out of money without you even noticing.”

“Hey! Are you saying that I’m not smart!?” Tommy hollered.

Purpled looked at him for a moment. “Actually, nope.”

“Good, ‘cause-”

“Tubbo just isn’t loud. He knows when to stop talking, and that’s how he gets you.”

Tommy’s face contorted in indignation. He jabbed a finger at Purpled. “Well if you’re only going to insult me and complain about my prices, then you’re free to leave,” he huffed. “You’ve wasted my valuable time and honestly I should just charge you for that.”

Purpled’s head whipped around in alarm, a look of horror in his eyes. Dream set what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

“Look, Dream, just because we go way back-” Tommy began hotly, but Dream cut him off.

“Actually Tommy, think of it this way.” He set his other hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “How many other Skyblock players would be able to say they sold to Dream?”

The teen’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Whatchu playing at here, huh, Dream?” 

“I’m just saying,” Dream pressed on, his voice sickly sweet, “It’d be a real shame if we had to go to the other Skyblock islands to get what we need. They would hear all about how horribly stingy of a businessman TommyInnit is. That can’t possibly be good for your reputation.”

Tommy paled, his loud persona deflating slightly. “Alright big man, we can settle this right now if you’d like.” He stuck a finger into his collar and pulled a little to loosen his tie. “How ‘bout some good old fashioned haggling, eh?”

“That’s more like it.” Dream stepped back and turned over the stage to Purpled, who immediately swooped in with a gleam in his eyes.

Dream stood a little ways apart, leaving the two teenagers room to bicker. He turned the bundle of blaze rods over in his hands. They shimmered with some unknown flame, but remained cool to touch. Dream opened the pouch of ghast tears and picked one out to stare at. It glimmered like a pearl in the sun.

“Hey!” He was interrupted by a shout from Purpled. Dream turned to find the kid pointing frantically at something beyond him. He followed his finger past the edge of the island.

On a nearby rooftop stood a familiar pink figure. His fur-lined coat had been discarded, exposing a white dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His black pants were smeared with dirt and he held a farming scythe in his hands. On top of his head sat a very nice sunhat.

“I like your hat!” Dream blurted.

Techno tipped it at him. “Why, thank you.”

It would’ve been a nice interaction if he hadn’t been there to kill them.

“Technoblade!” Purpled rushed to the edge of the island. “He sold us out!” he yelled, turning back to glare at Tommy, “That little scoundrel sold us out!”

“Why you little- ehm,” Dream cut himself off, frustratedly pressing his knuckles along the bottom edge of his mask. He probably shouldn’t swear in front of kids.

“You suck, TommyInnit,” Purpled said for him, “That is not cool.”

“IT WASN’T ME!” Tommy boomed, “I’M A BUSINESSMAN, I DON’T SELL OUT MY CUSTOMERS!”

“Well wouldya look at this,” Technoblade droned, not sounding even slightly surprised despite his words, “Tommy wasn’t lyin’”

Tommy froze for a moment, before immediately turning back to them, “Dream, Dream, now I know this looks really bad Dream, but I swear, it wasn’t me-”

“It was him,” Techno said, “Ya should’ve seen his messages to me.”

Purpled glared at him. It looked like Dream was just staring at him unmovingly, but he was also glaring so hard he swore he’d crack the ceramic of his mask.

“HOHKAY, FIRST OF ALL-” Tommy jumped, jabbing a finger towards Techno on his tower, “you’re not supposed to reveal our messages, TECHNO- BLADE! That was a DICK MOVE! Those are corporate secrets, those are! Second of all-”

Dream tuned him out. He glanced between the blaze rods and Tommy. Blaze rods and Tommy. Blaze rods… Tommy…

“Bye Tommy!” Dream shoved the loot into his inventory and took off, Purpled following after him.

“Hey- HEY YOU DIDN’T PAY!” Tommy screamed after them, “THIEVES! THIEVERY! MURDER! HELP! HELP! THEY FOCKIN’ STOLE FROM ME!”

Techno ignored him, leaping off his building and sprinting after them.

“Wha- TECHNO!” Tommy whined. “TECHNO, C’MON MAN!” he tried to no avail, and then settled for shaking a fist. “OH FUCK YOU DREAM!” 

Dream turned to hurl a farewell over his shoulder. “Fuck you too Tommy!”

With all his complaining, Tommy had unknowingly bought time for him to reach the edge of the floating island, where it overlapped slightly with a rooftop below. Dream grabbed his water bucket and threw himself off without a care in the world. Purpled halted at the edge of the island, uncertainty creasing his face.

“C’mon!” he yelled at Purpled, recalling his newfound fear of death, “You’ll make it!”

The teen took a running jump and leaped.

Sploosh!

“Let’s go!” Dream grabbed his arm and took off.

“He’s armed and dangerous!” Tommy continued to screech at the top of his lungs as he ran along his island, “He’s making end crystals fo’ sure”

“WHAT?” Dream squawked. Now that he thought about it, getting blaze rods and ghast tears was pretty suspicious. “No we’re NOT!”

“Um,” Purpled whispered, “We kinda are.”

Now it was his turn to gawk at Purpled, “You’re WHAT? Why’d you need end crystals for-”

“Shhh!” the kid cut him off. He looked like he was on the verge of freaking out. “Can we talk about this later, when we’re not being chased?”

Dream glanced over his shoulder. Techno was still a few rooftops away, but he was closing on them fast. “Okay.”

They sprinted to the edge of the building. A sea of clouds spread out across from them. The building had dropped off sharply, leaving no adjacent roofs to jump to. The small brick stairhouse on the roof had hidden the dead end from view.

“Oh shit!” Dream hurriedly grabbed Purpled's arm and swung both of them behind the stairhouse. They pressed up against the brick and frantically tried to quiet their breaths. Dream stared at the void across from them, trying to figure out an escape route. They would need to descend the tower, but doing so would put them directly in Techno’s line of sight.

He blinked, and for a moment, he saw double. Beams of dying sunlight punched through the clouds, streaking them with blood. He remembered two figures on a solitary wool bridge, peppered by arrows. A horrible feeling welled up in his chest. The last time he and Purpled had run together, it had ended in the teen’s death.

Only this time, there would be no respawns.

“Sir!”

Dream snapped his head around the corner.

Two guards had appeared on the rooftop, seemingly having warped in out of nowhere. They caught Techno right as he sprinted past.

The pigman stopped, then turned. His looming silhouette spoke nothing but of annoyance. “What is it?” he grunted over his shoulder.

The guard shuffled over and whispered something to him.

“End crystal explosion in the lower city?” Techno echoed, “Interesting.” He waved the guards towards him. “With me.” Then he turned around and dropped right over the edge of the tower. The guards stumbled against each other in shock for a moment, but quickly warped away.

Dream and Purpled remained plastered against the side of the building, hardly believing their good luck. The kid’s eyes kept darting at him, a wide grin growing on his face. It looked like he couldn’t hold in his glee for much longer. When the voices finally faded away, Dream sighed and slid down to sit on the ledge.

“We’re safe!” he exclaimed with utter relief.

The trip back to the compound took far longer than the trip down. With no way to warp back to Mid, they had to pick their way across the newer fringes of the city, across several antiquated city walls, and then to the forest of towers shooting up towards the center of the city.

The sun set as they climbed, first setting them aflame with gold and red, then washing over them with blue hour. The moon was rising by the time they finally clambered over the edge of the Nolife compound.

A darkened figure of the kid on watch stirred in the square of orange light that spilled out the mouth of the door. Moments later, the rest of the guild came streaming out to greet them.

“You’re back!” Chazm exclaimed, his arms outstretched in relief. “You guys were taking so long that we were worried something happened.”

“You got the stuff?” Astelic stopped beside them.

Dream thrust his hands into his pockets and triumphantly drew out two handfuls of blaze rods and tears.

“You got the stuff!” she exclaimed, this time in excitement. The rest of the guild clustered around them with cheers.

“We did it!” Purpled jumped and punched the air several times, “Let’s fucking go! We got the stuff and we’re still alive!”

“Yeah, well, I’m alive too.” 

The circle fell silent. As one, everyone turned to see what appeared to be a ghost standing by the edge of the roof. He had short brown hair and his skin was pale under the moonlight. The only warmth on his features came from the light emitting from the compound. He would’ve been tall, if it weren’t for his horribly scrawny limbs.

If Dream hadn’t heard him talk, he wouldn’t have known who it was.

“Wait, Eighty?” he uttered in disbelief.

A tired grin broke out on Eighty’s face. “The one and only!”

“Eighty!” Chazm tackled him, grabbing on and not letting go. The crowd of kids broke like a wave, crashing over their leader and engulfing him in their arms.

“Ew, stop it guyssss,” Eighty protested, good-naturedly fighting their attempts to hug him, “This is getting too mushy.”

“Is that another nick?” Dream struggled to ask over the crowd of teens. Seeing Eighty looking like a normal person was… strange, to say the least.

“Well it’s more like an un-nick.” Eighty snapped his fingers. Smoke engulfed his body, and then his familiar mismatched visage reappeared.

His clothes were still riddled with bullet holes. Several were right across his chest, and Dream couldn’t help but wonder how he survived such fatal wounds.

“We were just about to resummon you!” Purpled finally managed to explain through all the excitement. “Dream and I went all the way to Skyblock and pulled a heist to get blaze rods and ghast tears! There was a police chase and everything!”

“You shouldn’t have gone through all that effort.” Eighty flapped a hand like a sassy girl. “I don’t die that easily.”

“Okay, but since I died today, I get to sleep in the bed tonight,” Sammy announced.

“What, no fair!” Purpled piped up, “I also died!”

“You’re not special Purpled,” Hannah said, “Get in line.”

“Wait wait wait.” Eighty waved his hands at them. “You guys can’t all sleep in the bed. I’m supposed to sleep in it.”

All three of them turned on him. “Watch us!”

“You can’t!” he protested, “There’s not enough room! I’m injured!”

The group of Nolife members exchanged looks.

“You know what that means?” A wide grin stretched across Sammy’s face.

“SLEEPOVER!” the rest of the guild roared.

“No!” Eighty shouted again, but to no avail, “I’m injured! You guys can’t just invite yourselves over to my bed in my room.” 

“It’s already happened!” His guild clustered around him, almost piling on him in excitement.

Eighty let out a hiss of pain, and everyone immediately leapt back in concern.

Purpled was the first to notice, his eyes going wide. “Dude, what happened to your arm!?” he yelped.

Everyone stared at Eighty’s exposed arm. The right sleeve of his jacket had been torn up to the shoulder, exposing a stretch of scorched and charred flesh. Angry red skin and blisters exploded outwards from his palm all the way up to his forearm. It was as if it had been caught in an explosion, or at least doused in flames.

Eighty shrugged. “I hurt it breaking my fall.”

No one seemed to buy it. It was clearly burnt, not broken.

“I’ll tell you guys later,” he muttered, and Dream got the impression that “you guys” didn’t include him.

“Okay, let’s get you up to your room,” Chazm offered, and the rest of the guild parted around them, several already running off to grab bandages and healing. As he led him away, Dream caught a few words.

“-cult!?” he heard Chazm exclaim, “Not those guys again!”

Chapter Text

“Alright, final rush!” Eighty’s voice echoed through the main atrium of the compound. 

It had been almost a week since the disastrous attempt to break George’s bed. The guild had spent that time laying low, recovering and licking its wounds. But that didn’t mean that everything had grinded to a stop completely. Plans had been made in the meantime, setting events that had been spoken about when Dream had first arrived in Hypixel into motion.

The late morning sunlight fell through the skylights of the warehouse, illuminating the large map of Hypixel that laid on the center of the floor. The entire guild was gathered around it, turned inwards to Eighty at the center.

Dream stood besides Purpled, absentmindedly tracing a long gash in the floor with the tip of his foot. Yup, there were dragon claw marks around the map in the center of the compound as well. He was starting to become rather numb to any new traces of the Nolife dragon.

Eighty noticed his behavior but didn’t comment on it. His right arm was still securely wrapped in bandages. The gapps helped the healing along but it wasn’t instantaneous. He tucked his hand into the pocket of his jacket, the black fabric seemingly having repaired itself slightly. 

“Alright, listen up minemen and uh-” His eyes fell on Astelic, who raised an expectant eyebrow, “...not-minemen….”

“And everybody in between!” Walli added.

“Yes, that. Minepeople.” Eighty waved a hand dismissively. He tucked his hand back into the pockets of his jacket and began pacing back and forth over the map. “Tomorrow is the final rush. We’ve been planning this ever since Dream decided to grace us with his presence in Hypickle a couple- uh- weeks? A month probably by now?- ago. So here’s the plan.” He stopped, stepping onto a district on the map. It had been shaded in to be a dark coal grey. “I’ve been talking with the leaders of the other bed-breaking guilds and we’ve decided to split the entire city up between all of us, so that we can hit everywhere, all at once. We’ll have about three to four districts between us, usually the closest ones to our bases. Nolife has the western side.”

A hand shot up.

Eighty turned and pointed at Chazm. “Yes.”

The teen struck a crisp salute. “Are we splitting into teams of two or fours, Sir!”

“Twos,” Eighty replied just as crisply, “But you’ll travel to each district in fours, so two pairs of two will be hitting each district, just in case something goes wrong and a pair needs backup. It’ll be like doubles. Good question. Next?”

Chaz’s arm shot up again.

“Yes?”

He dramatically dropped to one knee. “Will you be my double?” he beseeched him.

Eighty sent him a glance over his shoulder. “No.”

“Oh okay.” Chaz straightened back up, not ruffled in the slightest.

Eighty crossed his arms. “I will be going with Dream,” he announced, “because he’s the new guy and we don’t want the new celebrity in town accidentally dying from something stupid. It’s like the president challenge.”

Dream turned to Purpled. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“It’s where you follow someone around and prevent them from dying,” Purpled whispered back, “We used to do that with David.”

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“David was your friend that died, right?”

“Yup.”

“Nice.”

“Other than that, you are free to choose your doubles partners for tomorrow,” Eighty added. He was promptly drowned out by a chorus of whoops. The circle of Nolife members broke, immediately clustering in on itself as everyone started discussing pairings.

“I’m nOT DONE YET!” Eighty yelled over the chattering. He stuck his hands desperately into the air. “Over the course of the day, there’ll be other guild leaders coming in!” he yelled frantically, “I need you all to be on your best behavior, okay?”

The cluster of teens just stared back at him blankly.

“Just please don’t embarrass me,” Eighty finished, “I can do that quite well myself already, thanks.”

Dream leaned against the wall of the compound. When members from other bed-breaking guilds had begun trickling in, all the Nolife members had immediately scattered, running off to greet old friends. Eighty had also vanished, presumably to go talk to the other guild leaders that had arrived alongside their guilds. The rooftop outside was now dotted with groups of players clustered together under the midday sun. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of a familiar face, or recognized someone he’d seen come by the compound before, but they were for the most part unfamiliar to him. He was mildly surprised by the amount of players that seemed to be involved with bed-breaking.

“Dream!”

He snapped his head around at the sound of his name. It didn’t sound like anyone he knew.

“Oh my god it’s Dream!” A second voice joined the first. “Dream! Over here!”

He turned.

Two teens ran towards him, waving their arms to get his attention. One of them wore a funny hat, matching his jacket in being split directly down the middle by green and purple. The other had a pair of 3D glasses sitting on top of his head. He’d never seen them before around the compound. They must be members of another bed-breaking guild.

“Hi Dream!” They stopped in front of him, wide grins on their faces. A chill ran up his spine. He got a feeling that wasn’t a good thing.

“Soooooo, Dream.” The kid in the green and purple jacket tucked his hands behind his back. “How ya doing?”

He raised an eyebrow behind his mask at their suspicious behavior. “I’m good, I’m good,” he answered casually, his senses on high alert. He continued leaning leisurely on the wall, his body language giving nothing away.

“So we were just wondering…” the glasses kid began.

His partner in crime picked up after him. “Have you ever heard of a…kb stick?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Dream stared at them blankly. Then, his brain made the connection. He wordlessly reached into his inventory and pulled out the knockback stick Eighty had given him. It felt like ages since that first rush.

“Oh no!” the glasses kid yelped, “He knows what it is! Quick Zyph- run!”

“Abort abort abort!” the other yelled.

They ran away screaming, pushing and shoving each other to get away.

Dream remembered Eighty saying something about someone -or several someones as it seemed- trying to mess with him sooner or later. He guessed this had been it, then. Thankfully they had turned out to be no more than pranksters, with their antics having been more entertaining than threatening.

He tucked the kb stick back into his inventory and pushed off the wall. Everyone clustered on the rooftop seemed so busy. Lurking in the corner by himself was starting to make him feel like deadweight. He began wandering his way across the rooftops, brushing up against the groups of players. Snippets of conversations blew past him. Plans for the final rush tomorrow, brags about a new style of speedbridging, the latest Hypixel drama…

A familiar head of black and white caught his eye.

Eighty was stood by the edge of the roof closest to the far wall of the compound, deep in conversation with a girl in a crown and a boy with bright ginger hair. He considered leaving them to it since Eighty looked quite busy, but the girl in the crown gave him pause. Her sweater was a similar shade of purple as Astelic, but lighter. He’d seen that shade exactly once before. By the time her name rose in the forefront of his mind, he was already reaching for his axe and sprinting towards them.

“-he’ll come,” the girl was saying, “There’s no way he’ll miss such a fight.”

“LOOK OUT! GET AWAY!” Dream interrupted, throwing an arm out in front of Eighty. He turned to the guild leader, who had a disgruntled look on his face. “That’s HannaPeyton!” he yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger at her. “She’s with Technoblade!”

“Oh yeah and nothing about me,” the boy with red hair snarked.

“Shut up, Ginger.” Eighty grabbed Dream’s arm and pushed it back down to his side. “Calm down man, Hanna’s with us.”

“She’s a spy?”

“No-”

“You think I take sides?” Hanna interrupted, crossing her arms. “Actually, you think Techno takes sides? He listens to Simon because he wants Pig rank, and he’s joining your final rush because he wants to cause anarchy."

“You invited Technoblade to the final rush?” Dream turned on Eighty, his tone accusatory. “He nearly killed George!”

“Yeah, and you’re trying to break his bed,” Eighty shot back, “We need all the help we can get.” He turned to Hanna. “Tell Techno I look forward to fighting beside him again.”

“I will.” Hanna beckoned to Ginger. The two of them turned and threw themselves over the edge of the roof. Hanna landed on a ledge below and paused, now only her upper torso and shoulders visible above the edge. “Oh, and Dream?” she added, “Techno sends his regards. You fought well.”

Ginger threw him a parting salute. “See you around, dream boy.”

The compliment left him rooted to the spot as Hanna and Ginger finally vanished over the edge of the roof. Had Techno actually said that, or was Hanna lying to him?

He turned to Eighty. “There’s no way I’m fighting alongside Techno,” he said, “I don’t trust him. He’s gonna try to kill me.”

“Chill man, he probably won’t even see you during the rush.” Eighty turned back from the roof and took a leisurely stroll back into the compound. Dream trailed after him. The guild leader stopped at the map of the city on the floor and pointed at a section highlighted in pink. “Techno’s guild is taking the eastern side of the city, we’re on the west.”

Dream crouched down to take a better look at the map. “Techno’s got a guild? I thought he was Hypixel’s attack dog.”

“Had,” Eighty corrected him, “Had is the correct word. It officially got disbanded when he took Simon’s offer and they became his goons, but looks like it’s still operating.”

Dream remembered the players that had surrounded him during his duel at Mid. That must have been Techno’s guild. The thought didn’t make him feel much better that he would be fighting alongside these people now.

His silence must’ve voiced his concerns out loud.

“You should have more faith in your enemies, Dream,” Eighty smirked. “Technoblade here has given us a very tasty little piece of information,” he said, admiring his nails like a sassy girl. “He knows where George’s bed is.”

Dream snapped his head around. “Are we- do you know for sure?” After the previous disaster, he didn’t even dare to believe.

“Yes. One-hundred percent certain.” Eighty tucked his arms behind his back and sauntered out of the compound again. “We’ll go tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”

Dream chased after him. “Wait, what about the final rush? Aren’t you participating in that?”

Eighty stopped in the shadow of the wall. “The final rush will act as a diversion of sorts. Hopefully George will be called out to defend and we can invis his bed while he’s gone.” He swept a hand at the clusters of players on the rooftop. “Besides, there’s enough bed-breakers to go around. They don’t need little ‘ol me.”

Dream settled beside him on the low wall that jutted beside the far end of the compound. If he hopped onto the wall and followed it back behind the compound, he would end up on that ledge where Eighty had revealed to him Nolife’s secret respawns. It felt like ages ago to him.

He eyed the players on the rooftop. “How many other bed-breaking guilds are there?”

“Many.”

“Do they all have respawns?”

Eighty sent him a quick glance. “Most have respawns through Hypixel. They just have to be careful to not reveal their identities.”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eighty agreed. “But for the ones that want to operate separately,” he put a hand to his chest, “I act as sort of a middleman,” he said proudly. “People come to me for respawns and I hand them out from our dragon sponsor. I don’t just sponsor my guild, but others as well.”

He didn’t realize Eighty held such a role amongst the bed-breakers. It made sense now how easily he was able to rally the guilds. “Others? Like who?”

Eighty quickly scanned the clusters of players on the rooftop. “Her, for example.” He pointed at an unfamiliar player with dark red hair. A dragon was stitched into the back of her pink hoodie. “They pay me and I give out respawns.”

Dream thought for a moment. “Doesn’t that make you just as bad as Hypixel?” he blurted.

“dOeSn’T tHaT mAkE mE jUsT aS bAd aS hYpIcKLe,” Eighty mocked.

Dream blinked in horror at how he managed to make such mangled words come out of his mouth.

“Stop making me question my morals, okay?” Eighty flapped a hand carelessly, “I got a bunch of mouths to feed.”

Evening found Dream and Eighty on the upper level of the compound. The last of the other bed-breaking guilds had finally departed for the night, their plans for the final rush now finalized. Eighty’s room looked like it had gone through a hurricane. Several of the pokemon on the shelves were knocked over. Papers were scattered all over the floor. Casualties in preparation for the rush.

“Try it again.” Eighty flicked a hand at the singular Nolife bed.

“What? Why?”

“I want to see if it lets you now.”

Dream stepped forward and tapped the bed.

You may not rest now, there are monsters nearby, the Universe whispered.

“It’s still not letting you rest?” Eighty guessed when Dream stepped back.

“No.”

“Try it again.”

YOU MAY NOT REST NOW, the Universe all but roared in his ears, THERE ARE MONSTERS NEARBY. MONSTERS.

Dream’s hands flew to clutch his head in pain. “It keeps yelling something about monsters,” he mumbled once the ringing subsided.

“Why’s it doing that?” Eighty tsked, crossing his arms. “This is my bed and my respawns. Why won’t it let me take you under my wing?” He looked at him. “It must be you, then. Something about you isn’t allowing me to give you respawns. Maybe the Universe has other plans. Maybe it’s mixing up the Enderdragon with the Nolife dragon. Or maybe you’re just stubborn.”

He took his hands off his head. “Stubborn about what? I would never turn down free respawns.”

“Dunno,” Eighty shrugged, “Maybe it’s ‘cause you’ve got a thing against dragons. They can be good, you know?”

He scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Eighty just rolled his eyes. “Here.” He flicked a hand at the bed. “Sleep in it tonight. If by tomorrow morning you still can’t set your spawn, then it’s a lost cause.”

Dream laid awake all night, his mind ringing with the chant of monster.

Morning found him joining Eighty by the side of the compound. The sun was just rising, burning away the pre-dawn mist. Dream slowly picked his way across the narrow ledge to sit next to him with their backs against the wall. It had become an unspoken meeting spot of sorts for them, hidden from the rest of the guild. The sheer drop below his feet didn’t bother him as much anymore.

“No sleep?” Eighty asked.

Dream shoved his mask back and rubbed his eyes. “None.”

“Hmmmm…” Eighty grumbled into a fist. “What a nuisance.”

“Sorry.”

His head snapped around. “What do you mean sorry. You’re not the one that’s supposed to be sorry! I’m trying to save you!” Eighty threw his hands into the air. “Why won’t it let me save you?”

“It… hurts when you can’t save people, doesn’t it?” Dream said slowly.

The guild leader stared at him. He slowly put his hands back down. “It does,” Eighty admitted. He sounded hollow.

Dream turned to look at him in surprise. This was the first time he showed sincere emotion. His entire form was slumped with exhaustion. By the bags under his eyes, it looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep either, despite his guild having decided on another sleepover last night. 

“Make me a promise, will you?” Eighty’s eyes found his uncovered face.

Dream held his gaze. “Sure.”

“Tomorrow, after we break George’s bed,” Eighty’s eyes were serious for once, “Save us, Dream. Kill the dragon and save us.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, final rush!” Eighty punctuated his words with a clap. He had to pretty much shout this time around to get everyone’s attention.

Unlike yesterday morning, the main atrium of the Nolife compound was absolutely packed with people. It was standing room only, players filled every available space on the floor and even more hung over the balcony of the second floor. Guilds clustered around the map of Hypixel, organized roughly in triangular slices of pie pointing towards their color-coded districts on the map. Latecomers spilled out of the wide doorway and onto the roof.

This was the most people Dream had been around since he went on the run. Everyone in the room bristled with weaponry and other combat equipment, but none of them were directed at him. It was a welcome sight for a change. He noticed that some of the bed-breakers even carried firearms, one of which was the teen with 3D glasses that had tried to prank him with a kb stick yesterday.

Dream turned, trying to find other familiar faces in the crowd. From across the room, he accidently locked eyes with Techno. Well, this was awkward. The guild leader regarded him coolly with blood red eyes. 

BLOOD! A shout stirred in his ears. Dream chalked it up to not getting enough sleep. He quickly tore his eyes away and tried to focus on Eighty again.

The guild leader was stood at the center of the map once again, and also had been apparently speaking for the past few minutes. Dream had caught exactly none of that. He tried to tune back in.

“I’m going to be real with you guys here,” the guild leader said in a drawling, sarcastic tone, “Is this really going to do something? No, not really, because they’ll just replace all the beds in a month or so. But will we be a pain in Hypixel’s metaphorically thicc booty?” Eighty grinned, a smile of sharp teeth. “Oh, absolutely. And I think that’s worth it. Maybe it’ll convince them that their rank system is stupid. Maybe they’ll just give up on trying to replace all the beds we break. Maybe some MVP plus pluses will accidentally die in the meantime and take some permanent deaths. Whatever. Our goal is to show them what our lives are like outside their perfect little worlds… and also maybe increase our FKDRs.” 

He was interrupted by a chorus of cheers from the crowd. Clearly everyone had their priorities straight.

“WOOOOO!” Walli called out in support. “You said it, Mister Boy! Party at our place afterwards!”

Eighty whirled around. “No!”

“PARTY! PARTY! PARTY! PARTY!!!” The rest of Nolife cheered.

“Blood for the blood god!” Someone else struck up a chant. Dream peered through the crowd to see Hanna thrust her fist into the air.

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” the rest of Techno’s guild roared, “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!”

“NO-LIFE! NO-LIFE! NO-LIFE! NO-LIFE!” Nolife shouted back.

Then other guilds joined in, chanting their names and slogans. As a mass, the assembled bed-breakers spilled out of the compound with a roar. Dream felt himself get pulled along, caught up in their triumphant energy.

A hand caught his arm as he passed through the wide bay doors. He turned to find Eighty perched on the low wall leading to the ledge behind the compound, safely out of the way of the crowd.

Dream pulled himself up onto the wall beside him. “Nice speech.”

The guild leader just shook his head. “I hate motivational speaking.”

For a moment, they just watched the sea of players pass below them. They would not be joining them in the rush, at least not until George’s bed was broken.

Eighty turned to him. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eighty and Dream slipped around the back of the compound. It was almost too quiet now. While the rest of the guilds descended en masse upon the city, they would pick their way across the towers, taking the backways. They climbed their way down the Nolife tower, to where its thicker base brushed up against another. From there, they crossed onto the nearby tower, heading south into the city.

The air rumbled with the distant roar of a fireball explosion, causing both of them to pause in their climbing. Black smoke billowed up from a cluster of towers to the west of them, followed by sounds of shouting and the clash of swords on armor. Another explosion rocked the air as a second fireball hit.

“D’you think that’ll be enough to pull George away?” Dream wondered out loud as they spectated the distant battle. “He’s quite smart. He might be able to figure out that we’d take advantage of the final rush to get his bed. He’ll know we’re coming.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Eighty put up a finger, “George thinks he killed all of us. He won’t be expecting us to return from the dead.”

“That is… true…" Dream trailed off. Worry still churned in his gut. When he saw him last, George had made an offhand comment about killing Purpled twice. It wouldn’t take him much to put two and two together.

They left the battle behind them and continued to descend deeper into the forest of towers. Now the air was filled with fireball explosions. Dark smoke columned into the air, each a beacon marking the location of a map that had been hit by the bed-breakers.

“They’re doing such a good job,” Eighty wiped away an imaginary tear from his eye, “I’m so proud.”

They slowed as they reached one of the nicer looking towers near the city center, an apartment tower not unlike the MVP plus district he and Eighty had hit that time they did their solo rush together. Dream knew they had reached their destination once Eighty pulled out his blocks and began bridging diligently towards one specific balcony.

The guild leader left a few blocks gap and leapt silently on the balcony. He quickly pressed himself up against the wall to avoid being seen through a window.

Dream landed in a roll beside him.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” Eighty pulled an invis pot out of his inventory and caught it in one hand. “You go in. If George is not there, you break his bed and get outta there. If he is, stand there and look cute while I invis his bed. Got it?”

Dream nodded. “Got it.”

“Great.” Eighty patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck!” He popped the cork off the bottle and downed the potion in one swing. “-I swear, if he’s got a gun again,” Dream heard the guild leader mutter darkly to himself, “I’m so calling Target.” Then he vanished.

Now left alone on the balcony, Dream turned to the door. He tried the handle, and then tried his axe when it was clearly locked. The wood stood no chance against his blade.

Bright sunlight gave away into dim lighting as he plunged through the doorway. Thrown by the sudden transition, he paused for a moment and looked around. The distant roars of fireballs outside faded away, muffled by cool blue walls. Heavy curtains were drawn across the windows, leaving the only source of light coming in from the balcony.

Dream slowly picked his way across the room. A full bed was pushed up against the back wall, its blue covers made neatly. To the left, a door to the rest of the apartment. To the right, a wardrobe and several chests. Everything was so incredibly mundane and ordinary, but it felt like he was intruding upon something private. Everything in this room was an insight into George’s inner life.

A diamond sword sat on a stand above the wardrobe. It was an elegant weapon, clearly forged for a more decorative use, but deadly all the same. Dream found it to be quite fitting, considering its owner. Unable to help himself, he removed it from its stand, hefting it in his hands. The leather-wrapped handle was cool under his fingers. He brought it up to his face, admiring how the blade danced prettily under the light. 

“So you finally found me.”

He whirled around at the sound of a voice, the sword slipping from his hands. In two bold steps, George strode up to him and swiped the sword out of the air before it could clatter to the ground. He spun it around and leveled the point at his chest. “Leave.”

“Hello to you too, Georgie.” Dream put up his hands and backed away. George followed, sword never wavering. “Nice room you got here.”

“Get out,” George repeated, “If you cared anything about me at all, you would leave right now.”

Dream clutched his chest. “Whoa, going right for the feels, huh?”

“Stop joking around,” George hissed, jabbing the sword at him.

Dream dodged, the blade narrowing missing his side. “Look, George. I’m not here to fight you.”

“Then leave.” Another swipe.

Another dodge. “I can’t. I need to break your bed, George, so you’ll finally leave me alone.”

He just shook his head. “I’ll keep hunting you, Dream, bed or no bed.”

“Aww, that’s-” Dream hurriedly dodged another swipe, “-awfully sweet of you.”

“Don’t,” George spat. “Just- just don’t. C’mon Dream, FIGHT ME!”

He stopped, just out of reach of his sword. “No George, I won’t-”

“JUST FIGHT!” the hunter suddenly exploded, “IT WOULD BE SO MUCH EASIER IF YOU JUST FOUGHT ME LIKE YOU SHOULD!”

His desperation caught him off guard. He cocked his head. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” George almost begged, “I can’t bear just standing around and talking to you. It’s- it’s almost like you’re a normal person with lives and loves of your own.” He brought the sword to his face, holding the blade upright in a guard position. “If we’re fighting, I can pretend you’re a monster that needs to be stopped. If we’re fighting, I can hate you.”

“Alright.” He drew the axe from his back. “As you wish.” He took a step forward and swung it at him.

Clang! The two weapons collided in a ringing of blades.

“Better?” Dream asked. He meant it in a mocking tone, but it came out all wrong and soft. He twisted under George’s blade and popped right back up for another swing.

George deflected his swing, breaking apart to spin into a corner of the room, sword held at the ready. “At least when we’re fighting I know you’re the enemy.” He took a step and dove back in, his sword clashing against Dream’s axe again.

It was like a dance. A really fucked up one.

But fighting gave him time. Fighting gave him time to get George to listen.

“George, listen.” He caught his swing on the flat side of his axe and deflected it into the wall.

George wordlessly ripped the blade out and advanced.

“During my stay here, I learned some things.” Dream backed away under his onslaught, favoring his words over gaining an upper hand in the fight. “The dragon- it controls respawn. I know they told you the world would end if I kill the dragon, George, but they lied. They lied so they could keep their system of beds and ranks and respawns.” He knocked his sword away, momentarily spreading his arms in a small gesture of triumph, “If I can kill the dragon, George, then everyone will be able to respawn! I’m trying to save you! I’m trying to save everyone.”

George’s next words fell like heavy hammer blows. “And why should I believe you?”

“I-” Dream faltered. His axe swung to a stop in front of him. Interestingly enough, George made no move to attack him. He was waiting. He was listening.

Words exchanged a long time ago on a rooftop flowed back to him. “Because you’re my hunter and I’m your target. We know each other in a way no one else does.”

Hope momentarily flared in his chest when George lowered his sword in response. But then his next words made his heart sink. “And that is why I have to keep fighting you, Dream,” George replied, sounding hollow. He picked up his sword again. “I’m your hunter and you’re my target. We’re enemies. It is our roles given by this world.”

“Please.” Dream ducked under his blade. It passed way too close this time, nearly clipping off the ends of his hair. “Please, just this one time. Of everything I’ve ever asked of you, believe me this one time!”

“Can’t.” The answer was curt now. George had walled himself up again, resigned to his fate.

“Fine.” Words had failed. All that was left now was force. He thrust out his axe, holding it by the very end of the handle so that the blade shot by George. His hunter dodged it easily. Then Dream planted a foot behind him and pulled. The head of the axe shot back. The hook the blade made with the handle caught onto the guard of George’s sword. With a sharp tug, Dream tore it out of his hands. 

The sword fell. Its pommel hit the ground first with a heavy thunk!

Two things happened at once. George instantly lunged for his sword. Dream raced to intercept him, sweeping a leg out under his feet to knock him over. He realized too late that it had been the wrong move.

He could only watch now, in slow motion, as George fell towards his sword.

CRACK!

“No!” He’d recognize that sound anywhere.

rrr-ROOOOUUUUUUUGRGHHHHHH!!!!!!

This time, the roar was unbearable. The Enderdragon screamed out in agony, raging over the hundreds of beds of hers having all been broken at once. Her fury lashed out at him across dimensions, filling his veins with a burning, flaming vitriol. Panic shot up his spine. The terror nearly made him curl in on himself, desperate to escape her burning gaze. He slammed his eyes shut in pain.

But under it, Dream heard something much softer.

A quiet sound, a small gasp of pain.

It didn’t have to be as loud as a dragon’s roar to utterly rend his world to pieces. 

“No!” Dream rushed forward, catching George in his arms before he could hit the ground. The diamond sword through his chest scraped awfully across the floor. The shuddering breath George drew in response echoed loudly in his ears.

He jerked his head up, desperate, searching. The bed, he’d completely forgotten about the bed. Across from him, he caught a glimpse of Eighty, invis gone, frozen in horror by the broken bed. “Gapple!” he yelled at him, “Do you have a gapple!?”

The guild leader shook his head silently, a grave expression on his face. It confirmed what he knew already: not even a gapple would be enough to heal a mortal wound.

“No!” Dream clutched George to his chest. “No no no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” He was so small, so, so small curled up in his arms.

To his surprise, his hunter did not fight him. “It’s okay,” George said quietly, and then his face crinkled into a small smile. “I don’t think I would have ever been able to kill you anyway. I’d rather take a final death than hunt you down for a lifetime of respawns.” He let out a sigh. “Maybe in another world- a better dream, we could’ve been something more.”

“We- we still can be!” His hands flew to the back of his head to fumble with the straps of his mask. His fingers shook uselessly against the clips. Numb.

“Don’t,” George laughed softly, his cheeks going slightly pink. But he was still losing blood at a rapid rate. “Please don’t,” he murmured, “I’m happy to have known you the way you were. I’d rather not see what I could’ve had. You’d probably give me a heart attack anyway and make me die faster.”

Dream snickered at his attempt at humor, but it came out more like a sob. His hands fell to his sides. His quaking, traitorous hands.

“Please don’t forget me when I’m gone, okay?” His plea was quieter than a whisper of wind.

“I won’t.” Dream bowed his head. “I will never.”

George motioned him closer. He obliged. His ice-cold hands slid up to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer still. Finally when they were mere breaths away, George tipped his head up and pressed a gentle kiss on the forehead of his mask.

And then he was gone.

In their game of life and death, he never expected George to be the one to die. But it made sense, in some twisted manner of fate. Dream had never died. George had died over and over again, but it had become such a constant that he never imagined that one of those deaths would be a final one.

A numbness built up in his chest, seeping into the rest of his body. His limbs felt incredibly heavy, but also incredibly light. They didn’t belong to him anymore. 

His body moved on his own accord. He lifted his mask and wiped his tears away. Then he picked the bloodied sword up off the ground and stood. Dream turned, sword in one hand and axe in the other, his eyes set on the silent man standing by the broken bed.

“Whoa, let’s not get too hasty here.” Eighty put his hands up and backed away the instant Dream started advancing on him. “It was an accident, I swear, I didn’t know he was gonna fall on your sword just then!”

“You killed him!” The voice that barked the words was not his. But at the same time, it also was, streaked with loss and anger.

“I did not!” Eighty protested, stumbling slightly as he tripped over the broken bed. “You killed him, I just happened to break the bed at an unfortunate time.”

Dream shook his head as if trying to deny the memory. “George took a final death because of you!” he bellowed.

“Calm down man!” Eighty’s back hit the wall. “If you just calm down for one second I can explain! George isn’t- Eek!” He dodged when Dream swung his axe down at him. While Dream struggled to pry the axe head out of the wooden wall, Eighty slipped past him, preventing him from trapping him between the wall and bed.

He stopped in the open space in the middle of the bedroom, finally drawing his sword. “Can you stop trying to kill me for a minute and just listen?” He held his sword out defensively in front of him, but Dream just batted it away. Eighty swung back, knocking George’s sword out of his hand. “Really? You’re fighting me? We’re supposed to be allies!”

Dream just responded with vicious swing from his axe.

“Fine.” Eighty’s lips twitched and then twisted into a sardonic smile. “Well, it’s not my fault you guys had such a nice long chat,” he mocked.

“Shut up!” Dream swung at him.

“Or was it a lover’s quarrel?” Eighty sang, dancing out the way.

“Shut up! Shut up! What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hollered, his face red, “You just sat there and watched? That was supposed to be private!”

Eighty dodged a swing, towering up and hopping into the rafters. He glared down at him, throwing both arms into the air. “Of course I was there, the plan was you distract, I break bed.”

He was right, but Dream didn’t want to admit it. Dream only growled, swinging his axe with all his might at the beam of wood. Crack! He viciously tore the axe head out and swung several more times, cleaving away the wood. Crack! Crack! Crack!

Eighty leapt from the rafters just before the beam fell, landing on a window ledge. He threw an elbow back against the glass, intent on shattering it. His arm just bounced off of it with a muffled thump.

“Ouchie!” He rubbed the sore joint and slammed the pommel of his sword against it instead. The window shattered, letting a cool breeze into the room. He gave him a mock salute. “If you’re just gonna throw a boohoo tantrum over your boyfriend, I’m outta here.” His body tensed, prepared to jump-

“Oh no you don’t!” In a burst of fury, Dream lunged at him, catching a fistful of his jacket.

“Hey! Leggo!” Eighty twisted mid air, angling his body so his momentum swung him through the doorway of the balcony below him. He hit the floor with a thump, Dream tumbling in after him.

In an instant they were up again, short sword crashing against axe.

“Stop. It.” Eighty gritted out. He pressed his other hand against the flat side of his sword, bracing himself as Dream threw his whole weight behind his axe. “You need to calm down and listen. George isn’t-”

“You think I’ll listen to you?” He unlocked their blades with a brutish shove of his axe. Eighty skittered backwards, instantly raising his sword as Dream rained blow after blow on him. “You think I’ll listen to you, a toxic, sarcastic man who can’t take anything seriously? Everything is a joke to you, everything!”

“Hey, it’s a coping mechanism!” Eighty protested, falling backwards under the onslaught. “Tell me you’re not guilty of the same thing! All you ever did with George was flirt with him!”

“But I cared!” he screamed, “That’s the problem with you people. Everyone in this whole fucking city! You think you’re better than ranked players but you’re just as bad as them! You break beds because it’s funny. You kill people because it’s funny. Was George dying funny to you? If I died would it be funny to you? Hell, if your whole fucking guild died would it be funny to you?”

Eighty’s eyes went wide at the mention of his guild. The point of his sword dipped.

Dream hooked the head of his axe under it and flung it out of his hands. 

“Hey!” Eighty fumbled after it, opening himself up for Dream to slam him into the ground.

He pinned him down with an arm across the chest. “You’re a monster!”

“Stop that!” The guild leader squirmed underneath him, trying to force his arm off. “It’s not fair, I’m bad at pvp!” He stabbed his nails into the flesh of his arm, drawing an alarming amount of blood. When Dream didn’t budge, he threw his head back, jaw wide open, an instant away from sinking his teeth in as well.

Dream raised his axe high into the air. “Respawn from this!” he screamed, and brought the blade down.

BOOM!

The world exploded into smoke. It was as if a fireball had gone off at close quarters.

Dream instantly threw up his shield, feeling something slam into it and knock him backwards. His back hit the floor and he rolled to his feet, keeping the shield between him and the smoke. Had Eighty thrown a fireball at the last second? He hadn’t even heard it coming. He continued backing away, edging to the doorway where the light cut through the smoke and he could see.

All the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly shot straight up, as if sensing an invisible enemy. But he hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of a potion being drunk. His mind worked in overtime. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Adrenaline coursed through his body, unbidden. His senses heightened to an almost extreme degree. But there was nothing in the room.

Then, something moved. 

Void-black scales coiled against each other amongst the sea of shadow and smoke. Great wings unfurled, fanning the smoke away. A pointed head emerged, crowned by long, silver horns. Rows upon rows of sharp teeth glistened in the dim light.

The creature of his nightmares unraveled itself in the haze.

Enderdragon. 

His heart leapt to his throat. Dream gripped the shaft of his axe tightly, fighting down a wave of panic. He was a dragon slayer, and here was his greatest enemy. But what was it doing here? What was it doing in the Overworld?

As if to answer his question, the dragon opened its eyes. Two glowing points of fire cut through the gloom.

One yellow. And one red.

Chapter Text

The first thing Dream did upon being confronted with his greatest enemy was to drop his axe. It fell to the ground, the heavy blade imbedding itself into the wood. Probably the worst thing to do at that very moment. There was a dragon in the room, and it did not look happy.

He expected it to open its maw and blast him with fire. Or lunge at him and tear him to bits.

Instead it sat back on its tail.

“Look man,” the dragon began, teeth flashing in an odd imitation of human speech. It put a clawed extremity up in a very human gesture, speaking with a very familiar exasperated tone, “I’m not too great at pvp and I really didn’t feel like dying just then, so could you calm down for a sec? I can explain myself, I swear.”

Seeing was one thing, hearing was another. His mind finally caught up. “WHAT.”

“You know, it’s only fair,” Gamerboy- Gamerdragon80 said. “I know what you really look like, now you know what I really look like.” He arched his back like a cat, stretching out his long spine. “Betcha didn’t expect this though.”

“WHAAAAAAAAAT????” Dream was utterly flailing here. A combination of grief and the appearance of a dragon was getting too much for him. “YOU’RE the fucking mysterious dragon benefactor? How fucking big is your fucking ego?”

Eighty’s eyes flashed. “Hey, I think I deserve some credit here-”

“Oh, fuck off!” Against his better judgment, he stormed up to the dragon, jabbing a finger in its face. “You’re the fucking dragon and you make a bunch of kids do your dirty work? If you have so much power over life and death, why can’t you just break all the beds yourself?”

“Hey, I’m not infallible,” Eighty gnashed his teeth, making Dream snatch his hand back before he lost his fingers. “I told you, I only have some control over life and death.” His voice took on a whining tone. “I already gave you a totem of undying, what more do you want from me?” he complained.

“I don’t care about how your powers work,” Dream snapped. He jabbed a finger at the floor. “Bring George back RIGHT NOW or I swear to GOD I’ll hunt you down as practice for the real dragon.”

“Hey, that’s offensive.” Eighty put a talon over his chest. “I’m a real dragon as well, just not the Enderdragon.” He pointed a claw at him. “You’ve got the right idea though. Once you kill the Enderdragon, all the souls in the End are released.”

All his fury evaporated instantly. “What?”

“George is not dead!” Eighty advanced on him, a sight far more terrifying as a dragon than when he had been an eccentric guild leader. “If you kill the Enderdragon, you can bring him back! So stop killing me and maybe we can figure something out.”

“George is not dead?” Dream whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

“Ay, there you go! You finally got it!” Eighty patted the top of his head. The action was meant to be condescending, but watching a cage of claws descend over his head, it only came across as threatening. Eighty gave him a vicious smile filled with teeth. “Yes idiot, if you had just listened to me from the start I would’ve told you right away.” He sat down, neatly curling his tail around his claws. “So we good now? If I nick as Eighty again, will you promise not to kill me?”

He crossed his arms. “Not unless you try to kill me.”

“Great.” The dragon puffed into dark smoke, swirling around until coalescing into a vaguely human shape. Eighty’s jacket flapped behind him as it fell back in place. Dream noticed the pattern of bullet holes in his wings matched those at the end of his jacket. He put up his hands. “Now before you say anything else, I swear, I’m not a furry. Or a scaly. Or whatever they call them these days.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t tell anyone.” Eighty glanced around furtively. “I don’t want them to make a speedrun category about me. There’s already enough people going around in Hypixel claiming to have killed me.”

Their fight had taken them down into an empty bedroom in the apartment below George’s. All the furniture had been knocked over by Eighty’s large bulk as a dragon. The guild leader turned to the bed knocked on its side and pulled back down to rest on all four legs again.

Dream gingerly approached him. “So you’re not the Enderdragon?” he asked again, just to make sure.

“No, but I can help you get to her.” Eighty hurriedly threw the covers back onto the bed, erasing all evidence that he had been here. “I know where the end portal frames are in Hypixel,” he said while hastily smoothing out all the wrinkles, “and we’ve got blaze rods and enderpearls from that time the guild thought I was dead and tried to respawn me with end crystals.”

A wave of realization washed over him. He was finally connecting the dots. “Wait. So was that-”

BOOM!

The bed exploded in a shower of wooden splinters.

Dream instinctively slammed his hands over his ears. He fell to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut as the subsequent dragon’s roar echoed through the world. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, the floor, the walls, the air, his own bones. Through the pressure, he managed to lift his eyes to Eighty’s.

The guild leader had been thrown against the far wall, all his limbs plastered to the wall in surprise.

“Why did you break the bed!?” Dream yelled at him through the dragon’s roar.

Eighty stared back at him with wide eyes. Bits of wool drifted down between them like gentle snow. “That wasn’t me!”

“WHAT?” Dream yelled over all the noise.

“She broke all the beds,” Eighty realized. “Holy frick, she broke all the beds!” He rushed forward, throwing himself down in front of the bed. “We’ve done it!” He seized two fistfuls of shattered wood and wool and thrust them into the air triumphantly. “Holy frick, we’ve done it! It’s final bed destruction! She’s pissed!” An almost manic grin stretched across his face, cracking the two halves of his mouth open wide to show off his pointed teeth. “The final rush worked!”

“What? How?” Dream finally pulled his hands away from his ears. “What does that mean?”

“The dragon, you’ve heard her roars.” Eighty stood, striding towards him. “Every time you break a bed, it hurts her. We’ve broken so many beds in the final rush that she just decided to break the rest herself so that she wouldn’t have to feel that pain anymore!” He shook the two fistfuls of wood splinters in front of his face. “We did it! We-!”

BOOM!

Their heads snapped up. A second explosion, this time from outside.

“Get down!” Eighty shoved Dream to one side just as the windows exploded inwards with a shatter of glass. Alternating beams of white and purple light shot through the jagged holes, casting the room in dazzling shades of color. The entire building shook as the shock wave rumbled through the world.

“What’s happening now?” Dream yelled as he shielded himself from the rain of light and glass. “Is this also part of final bed destruction?

Eighty ignored him, sprinting towards the window. He stuck his shoulders out of the jagged hole and craned his head upwards. “Holy FRICK!” he cursed, throwing himself back inside. “H’OH my GAWD, she’s coming through!”

“Who?” Dream demanded again, “What’s happening, who’s coming through!?”

“The Enderdragon, she’s coming through!” Eighty turned to him with wide eyes. “She’s in the Overworld!”

His heart leapt to his throat. “Wait- now!?” Dream gasped, clutching his chest. Panic surged through his veins again. His heart couldn’t handle this. He had just calmed himself down after witnessing Eighty in his dragon form. “The Enderdragon is coming through RIGHT NOW!?????”

“Yes! RIGHT NOW!” Eighty grabbed his arm, pulling him along. 

He felt his legs give out from under him. Eighty was pretty much just dragging him towards the open window now. “Wait wait wait, why’s she here?” He clutched his head. There was too much happening right now, he couldn’t keep up. “The Enderdragon can enter the Overworld?”

“Yes, she can come down, but rarely. She’s here to take vengeance on the bed breakers! She’s furious!” Eighty dragged him to the window and hauled him upright. “Go, go, get out there! This is your best chance to kill the Enderdragon!”

Dream hurriedly grabbed the window frame, jamming himself into the opening to just narrowly prevent Eighty from straight up shoving him out the window. “Wait, stop! Stop stop!” His feet stopped at the very edge of the very, very, long drop. “I can’t fly!”

“Oh my god,” Eighty let out a long-suffering sigh. He covered his face with hand. “Okay, I have an idea. Neither of us is going to like this, but-” Without warning, he gave him a hard shove.

“HUEGH- EIGHTY!” His arms buckled and Dream lost his grip on the window frame. He pitched forwards, hitting the open air. For a moment, he was weightless, and then-

A roar sounded below him and the air was knocked out of his lungs. A wall of black scales rose up under his arms and he felt powerful wing muscles beat under him. He clung onto the dragon’s snake-like neck for dear life, struggling to not look down.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as they ascended rapidly.

“Someone afraid of heights?” the dragon rumbled beneath him, sounding amused.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Afraid of heights.”

To his relief, Eighty didn’t poke the subject like he usually would, seemingly having recognized it as a sore spot. “That sucks, man, cause the Enderdragon’s pretty high up.” He craned his head back to check on him. “You good?”

He nodded.

“Okay, hold on tight!” Eighty thrust his wings downwards with a powerful burst of air.

Buildings streaked by them, growing thinner and thinner as they shot out of Hypixel’s forest of towers. A chorus of cheers went up from a nearby rooftop. Dream risked looking down. There, clustered on a rooftop was a group of kids. They waved their arms wildly at him, several hopping up and down to get his attention.

“Surprise!” Purpled yelled, as if finding out the guy he’d been conspiring with had been a dragon all along counted as a nice surprise.

“Go Eighty!” Chazm cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

“Dragon buff! Dragon buff!” the rest of the guild cheered. All of them showed signs of the final rush. Walli’s hoodie had been blackened with soot from fireball explosions. Chaz had accumulated more swords. The ends of Hannah’s hair smoked slightly. But all of them cheered and waved at them, their eyes bright with excitement.

Spurred on by the cheers of his guild, Eighty raised his head triumphantly and thrust his wings down in a powerful downwards stroke.

Dream’s world suddenly pitched forwards.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” he hollered as Eighty dove into a mid-air somersault. He clung on for dear life as his vision tumbled upside down. Gravity pulled at his body, threatening to tear his head off his shoulders and his arms from his sockets. Blood rushed back into his head when Eighty bobbed upright again. “NO!!!!!”

“Sorry!” Eighty called over his shoulder with a grin of teeth, “Completely forgot you were onboard for a minute there!” He didn’t really sound all that sorry.

Nolife let out a chorus of cheers as they shot by their roof.

“Kill the Enderdragoooooooon!!” Hannah cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a yell.

“Yeah you got this!” That was Purpled.

“Dragon buff! Dragon buff!” Chazm again.

Dream dared to rise up slightly on Eighty’s back, setting his sights forward. He’d always thought he’d be facing the dragon alone. But now, as an entire guild of bed-breakers cheered them on, he realized he had a dragon of his own on his side. He dared to let out a laugh. 

Just as the sound left his mouth, a wall of wind slammed into him. And that was when he saw her.

First came the glare of blazing purple light, so intense that it consumed even the sun’s rays. Then a truly monstrous creature rounded the corner of a cluster of towers. It was as if night itself were spilling out into the sky, completely devoid of stars. Ginormous wings extended and contracted, clawing at the air to stay afloat.

When curled up, Eighty was about the size of a ghast. The Enderdragon was closer to the size of a tower. A pair of blazing purple eyes landed on both of them as the Enderdragon swiveled her head around. Wisps of purple magic trailed out of her eyes and mouth, hinting at the blazing inferno within. She let out an ear-splitting roar.

Dream slammed one ear against Eighty’s scales and pressed his free hand against the other in an attempt to block out the sound. He was all-too familiar with the Enderdragon’s fury now. But to his surprise, the force of the roar blew past him, only lightly rattling his teeth. It was as if it hadn’t been addressed to him at all.

Beneath him, Eighty let out a full-body shudder. He vehemently shook the fury of the roar off. “Oh shut up Jean!” he yelled back, “I do what I want!”

The Enderdragon huffed in response, throwing herself onto a building. The supports twisted and groaned against her weight. She dug her claws into the roof to steady herself, then reared back, her jowls contorting horribly to reveal all her jagged teeth.

“aNDrEWWWWWWWWW!” she roared with immense effort.

“Eek!” Eighty’s wingbeats faltered, and for a frightening moment, Dream thought they were going to plummet out of the sky. But then Eighty caught himself, and they leveled out again. He swung his head back on his long neck. “You know that moment of utter terror when your mom calls you by your full name?” The tone of his voice suggested that he was trying to make a joke, but what came out sounded more nervous than sarcastic.

Dream clung on tightly, his heart racing. “Wait, that’s your mom?”

“No, that’s my boss,” Eighty corrected him, still trying to sound sarcastic. “Just because we’re both dragons doesn’t mean we’re related. That’s racist.”

“Okay, sorry Andrew,” Dream huffed, “Do all dragons have horribly white people names?”

“Well excuseeeeee me, Clay.” Eighty rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a problem with your name so you shouldn’t have a problem with mine.”

There they went again, falling back on humor as a coping mechanism.

The Enderdragon lifted off the tower, the force of her leap kicking it over in her wake. Blocks and debris rained into the void, smashing into other nearby buildings.

“Incoming!” Eighty flared his wings out in preparation to dive. “Are you ready for some pvp?”

Dream drew his axe. “As ready as I’ll ever be!”

“Okay, hang on tight!” he said. And then he dove.

Wind whistled through his clothes. Eighty plummeted like a swift shadow, arrowing towards the night rising up to meet them. The Enderdragon cracked her mouth open wide, exposing a cave of dripstone teeth. A violet inferno burned at the back of her throat.

“Oh frick!” Eighty twisted away at the last second.

The burst of purple fire obliterated a nearby tower.

Eighty responded with a blast of his own. Even from his back, Dream could feel the heat of the flames. The two of them had been small and nimble enough to dodge her earlier attack, but the Enderdragon’s bulk made it impossible for her to do the same. She let out an ear-splitting shriek when orange fire hit her eye. Clouds of smoke columned up from her face, carrying with it the horrible stench of burning scales and flesh. With a burst of her wings, she erupted through the smoke, teeth bared in fury. Eighty swooped down at her again, teeth and claws at the ready.

The two behemoths collided in an explosion of black scales and flashing teeth.

The impact nearly shook Dream off of Eighty’s back. He clung on to one of the spines growing from his back, hanging off of it like a limp rag as Eighty tore into his opponent. It was unlike any fight he had ever seen. Two raw forces of destruction tore at each other, a storm of teeth and fire. Eighty slammed into the Enderdragon’s side, snapping at her neck. His claws scrabbled against her hide, fighting for purchase on her obsidian-hard scales. Thunderous wingbeats rang out in the air.

The Enderdragon easily shook him off, and then plunged her teeth into Eighty’s shoulder. The smaller dragon let out a roar of pain, fire spilling from his jaws.

Thinking quickly, Dream summoned his crossbow and fired a bolt into the Enderdragon’s already-injured eye. She recoiled instantly with a shriek of pain.

Eighty roughly tore himself free, leaving a chunk of his shoulder behind in her jaws. He shot up a safe distance above her and dove again, slamming into her back.

Whenever a smooth expanse of black scales rose in front of him, Dream lashed out with his axe, splitting the flesh open to the bone. He cut at leathery wings, cleaved off toes, and tried to inflict as much damage onto the Enderdragon as possible. When Eighty bridged the gap between the two with a wing, he dared to run across the limb directly onto the Enderdragon’s back.

“Yeah, get ‘er!” Eighty cheered. He ducked under a wing and shot a blast of fire at her face to keep her attention off Dream. “Go for the wing joints! A flightless dragon is a dead one!”

Dream turned his head to where her wings connected to her back. He swung his axe up and brought it down on the thick, coiled muscle, hacking away at her shoulders. The Enderdragon roared in pain, writhing her neck backwards to try to knock him off. He only hooked his axe into her flesh and hung on while she tried to shake him loose.

“Yeah! Take that!” Eighty dove at her face with his claws, mobbing her like a crow. “Take that and that and that! Haha! Jean’s getting des-”

The Enderdragon struck out a hindleg and kicked him in the stomach. Hard.

“OOF!” The kick sent him spinning away through the air. He tumbled several times head over tail before he could catch himself with his wings.

“Fuck,” Dream said, as he was left clinging to the back of the wrong dragon.

The thunderous roaring of wings stilled. The Enderdragon hung in the sky, clearly processing this new development as well. A singular, purple eye darted backwards to him, a tiny tick amongst her mass of dark scales. Then, vast wings extended like the canopy of night. With a powerful downwards stroke, the Enderdragon shot up into the air, intent on escaping with her accidental passenger.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” A scream tore its way out of his throat as the world blurred around him. Wind clawed at his clothes, tearing his hood back and drawing tears from the corners of his eyes. He caught a streak of grey below him, desperately giving chase, but it only grew smaller and smaller as the clouds swallowed it up.

Eighty was gone.

Dream curled on himself, lying flush against the Enderdragon’s back to prevent the wind from ripping him off. His options: let go and die, or hold on and… also die? He risked a glance downwards. The city receded below him at an alarming rate. Towers shrank into pin pricks and needles. Falling from such a height would mean certain death. His only option was to hold on.

The sky streaked from blue to white to grey. The air grew thin. The Enderdragon tucked her wings as if going into a dive, and then-

BOOM!

Purple light exploded in a vibrant ring around them. The air danced with beams of alternating purple and white, the very same he had seen through a broken window that had first announced the Enderdragon’s arrival into the Overworld.

And then a swift darkness swept over them, snuffing out the dancing lights like a candle. And like the inevitable wall of night, a starless void stretched out above him. 

This wasn’t the Overworld anymore.

This was the End.

Chapter Text

The Enderdragon’s wings beat thunderously in the void.

The featureless horizon of the End stretched out far above their heads. It had a particular quality of being simultaneously empty, yet full of fog at the same time. In a brief moment of wonder, Dream stuck out a hand, letting it trail through the air as if on the surface of a lake. He felt nothing but emptiness and the wind rustling around his body. 

A spot in the neverending sky lightened to a dark grey, then a pale white. A yellow island rose out of the haze, drawing closer and closer. It had a pixelated appearance, where the work of the End busters had eaten away at its surface and tunneled through the sides until it was riddled with holes like cheese. The dragon descended towards her ruined kingdom, and that was when he saw them.

Endermen. Hundreds and hundreds of them, thousands even. Tall wisps of shadow with glowing purple eyes, all crowding down on the endstone. Each once a living soul.

He let out an involuntary gasp, his peril momentarily forgotten. His eyes fell to the island, and though he knew one should never look into the eyes of an Enderman, he couldn’t help it.

He was searching. Searching, searching, searching for a single soul.

George.

Was he even down here? Down there alone, lost among a sea of souls. Would he remember him? Would his soul, no matter how corrupted, recognize him and seek him out? Or would George only remember fury, and Dream would die under burning arms of shadow, a new soul to join all the rest.

Would he even be able to pick him out?

The dragon roared suddenly, shaking him out of his sorrow. A wave of anger overtook him at the note of triumph in her voice.

A spiraling beam of light shot out at them, hitting her in the chest. He looked on in horror as the gashes scored into her back began closing, healing themselves. All the wounds Eighty had inflicted on her and paid in blood of his own.

“NO!” he yelled, swinging his axe again, fighting to keep them open.

They swooped by a pillar, and he recognized the objects that topped the burning pits of fire. End crystals. He counted three on obsidian pillars. Seven other pillars stood dark and unlit. Each extinguished pillar spoke of previous players that had all reached the End, but had failed to kill the dragon.

He traced the beam encasing the Enderdragon to the nearest crystal atop its pillar. Even leaving one crystal unbroken meant that the dragon could heal herself back to full health. Thinking fast, he summoned his crossbow and fired.

BOOM!

The Enderdragon roared in pain, having been caught in the explosion. Purple fire seared her trailing limbs, blasting dark scales off her side in a glittering rain. Desperate for healing, she swung by another pillar, and Dream fired again.

BOOM!

This time, the explosion tore through her wings. She plummeted, seemingly losing control. But then Dream caught the backwards glance of a glowing, purple eye. No, she hadn’t lost control. She was trying to shake him off. That was his only warning before the dragon abruptly twisted into a corkscrew dive.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The scream tore itself out of his lips as his world spun upside down. Blood rushed to his head, nearly making him lose his grip on her spines. The dragon pulled out of the corkscrew, ascended, then dove again. This time, she hurtled straight towards a pillar. Dream expected for her to veer away at the last moment. Instead, the Enderdragon phased through.

“WHAT THE-!” He barely had time to cry out in surprise before the wall of obsidian was upon him. Dream threw himself off the dragon’s back, a stack of wool already in his hands. He placed a block to catch himself against the pillar, and then sprang off of it, using his momentum to run alongside the pillar, placing blocks under his feet as he went. The other side of the pillar neared. Without pause, he leapt into the open air, arms outstretched as the Enderdragon shot by below him. His hands closed around the very tip of her tail. He let out a yelp when the action nearly jerked his arms out of their sockets. Then he was yanked along again, no more than a tiny tick still clinging stubbornly onto its winged host.

The dragon lashed her tail with a furious roar. Dream clung on tightly, his vision blurring as the world spun itself into streaks around him. As the dragon lashed her tail the other way, he managed to swing himself up and cross his legs at the ankle around her tail. The dragon cast an eye back, and then dove again.

This time, she hurtled directly towards the ground. He expected her to veer away at the last second. But just like last time, her head vanished the instant her snout touched the endstone.

The ground rushed closer and closer. He clung onto her tail tightly, waiting for the perfect moment to let go. Her neck vanished, then her shoulders, her torso, wings, hindlegs, tail…

He finally let go.

His back slammed into the endstone. All the breath was driven from his body with a loud huff!, followed by the cracking of bones. He had tried to let go just moments before the dragon phased through the endstone in an attempt to soften his landing, but inertia did not work that way. The force of the collision sent him rolling. Pain exploded from his sides as the broken ends of his ribs slammed together. He couldn’t tell if it was the starless sky of the End or if his vision had gone dark.

The muffled rustling of wings alerted him of the Enderdragon’s approach. With a gasp, he threw himself to the left, sending him tumbling down a small slope in the endstone. Just instants later, the Enderdragon erupted from the ground where he had just been lying. Her jaws snapped shut on empty air.

“Holy shit!” The near-miss sent him scrambling to his feet. He hurriedly ducked behind a pillar as the dragon shot back into the sky. Blood dribbled out the corner of his mouth. He must’ve bit his tongue upon landing. He retrieved the single golden apple left over from the final rush and bit into it. He let out a sigh of relief as the burning in his chest subsided.

Only one crystal remained. The beam of light engulfing the dragon pointed to it like a beacon in the night. He slinked around the side of his pillar, then ran quickly over to the base of the final pillar. 

The dragon circled the top of the pillar in lazy loops, one violet eye diligently scanning the ground for his presence. With each passing second, the wounds on her scales closed up.

Dream ducked into the shadows at the base as she passed over him. He would have to be quick.

Just as the dragon passed over him again, he leapt forward and placed a wool block against the side of the pillar. Like he had once before, he sprinted around the pillar, placing blocks under his feet and ascending, all the while keeping pace with the dragon’s flight so that he was always behind her and tucked out of sight. His ruse would only last for so long, however. It would only be a matter of time before the dragon noticed the spiral of wool blocks stuck to the sides of her pillar. 

Her roar of fury erupted just as Dream reached the top. He threw himself onto the flat surface of the pillar, where the last end crystal bounced over the fire on its block of bedrock. And like the rising edge of the night, the Enderdragon surfaced on the edge opposite to him. Her wingbeats echoed loudly in the darkness. For a brief moment, the reflection of the last end crystal danced in the furious light of her eyes.

Then Dream slammed a block down in front of him and fired a crossbow bolt.

BOOM!

The Enderdragon let out a scream. The air exploded with the thunderous beating of wings as she flinched away, flesh smoking and dark scales raining into the void.

The explosion sent Dream skyhigh. The island dropped away below him, briefly becoming a round moon stuck full of obsidian spokes. Then gravity caught back up and he plummeted. He seized the water bucket in his inventory and slammed it into the ground just before he did. A chorus of screams erupted from the nearby endermen. Purple sparks rained out of the sky as they teleported away from its biting waves.

Dream dragged himself out of the puddle. Burns covered his right arm up to his shoulder, having been caught too close to the explosion. He had seen something similar once before, on Eighty after his spontaneous reappearance after their failed rush to break George’s bed. A ton of things about the eccentric guild leader made sense now that he knew his true nature. Dream tipped his eyes up to the sky, where the dragon limped by, her flight loud and ragged.

One more. One more crystal and she was done for. But there were none. He knew there were none left, or the dragon would’ve immediately swooped towards it for healing. It was both a blessing and a curse. Where was he supposed to find anything on the explosive magnitude of an end crystal?

He desperately checked his inventory for fireballs. There were none. Eighty had banned him from using them after that stunt he’d pulled during their solo rush. He glanced up at the dragon, and then back at the sad contents of his inventory. Just his axe, crossbow, five arrows, wool, and oddly enough, some wooden planks that he must’ve accidentally picked up when the Enderdragon had broken all the beds in the Overworld.

Wool and wood.

An idea formed in his mind, a desperate, wild idea. He remembered the dragon’s cries whenever they’d broken a bed in the Overworld, and then her fury when she smashed all the rest. Surely they had to hurt her in some way. From the leftover planks in his inventory, he made a crafting table, and then, of all things, a bed.

He placed it on the endstone and tapped it, hoping to hear the dragon cry out in pain.

BOOM!

The ground exploded. His back slammed against the endstone, knocking the air out of his lungs. With a clattering sound, his mask flew off his face and bounced away across the endstone. His unprotected eyes flew open in a panic. Time slowed.

Through the fire and smoke, he met two glowing, purple eyes. A solitary enderman stared back at him, tall and foreboding.

His breath caught in his throat. Dream fumbled for his axe. His hands closed around the worn wood of its handle, but failed to draw it. His arms were too heavy. He could only lay limply on the endstone as his head rang with the concussive force of the explosion. It would only be a matter of time before the enderman opened its starry maw in fury and ran at him with furious limbs. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to tear him to bits. 

The buzzing in his head subsided. The atmosphere grew quiet until he only heard the crackling of flames. He dared to open his eyes again.

The enderman remained where it stood, staring back at him coolly. It made no move to attack him.

A name left his lips. “...George?” he dared speak.

The being did not react. Then several of its brethren passed in front of it and it vanished.

Dream blinked, freeing himself from his trance. He hurriedly dragged himself over to where his mask had fallen and retrieved it, the edges of the white porcelain now cracked and chipped. He secured it back over his face lest he risk looking at any of the endermen again, and scrambled back to his feet. Where the bed once stood was a giant, flaming crater.

Beds exploded in the End. Beds exploded in the End. If it hadn’t been for the crafting table at his feet having taken the brunt of the explosion, he would’ve been dead. He looked up at the dragon in the sky, taking in her limping flight. It would only take one more end crystal to take her out.

Or one bed.

He hastily placed down another crafting bench and checked his inventory. Half a stack of wool and five wood planks. Enough to make one bed, but no more. He only had one chance.

Wings roared over his head. A blast of purple fire crashed over the endstone, engulfing his impromptu crafting set up. The Enderdragon shot by, and then ascended into the darkness once again. He’d taken too long. She had found him.

Dream grabbed the last bed, tucking it under an arm as he ran towards the only relatively sheltered place on the whole End island: a bowl shaped indent, the pillar in the middle making it take on the appearance of a fountain. He vaulted over the raised rim, ducking into the bowl. It would give him protection enough. He ran a hand over the dark stone, its strange, staticky texture sending a shiver up his arm. Bedrock. But what was it doing here, in the End? There was no time to wonder, it would serve its purpose. No other material would protect him better from a bed’s explosive demise.

He tipped his head up to the sky, where the Enderdragon careened by in distant circles. “Hey! Hey you!”

The dragon pivoted at the sound of his shout. A single, violet eye zeroed onto him. She twisted midair and dove.

The angle of her ascent was too steep for him to catch her with an explosion. He hastily threw up a roof of wool just before purple fire spilled over the fountain. The dragon let out a furious roar as she passed over him.

Dream surfaced again. “Hey!” he shouted at her, “Come and get me!”

The dragon turned in the sky, hesitant. Both of them only had one life now. Whatever wounds she would sustain, she would bear them until her demise.

A pit of worry grew in his chest. Even when grievously injured and without healing, the Enderdragon still had the upper hand. The End was her domain, he would perish here if he remained too long. He needed to force her hand.

Dream pulled out his crossbow and traced her flying form through the sky. Five arrows. He would make them last. His first arrow missed, the dragon diving out of the way at the last second. He fired again just as the dragon made a turn. The change in direction had slowed down her momentum enough for the arrow to hit. It punctured a wing, sending her phasing sideways through a pillar. Her loud roar shook even his bedrock shelter.

“YEAH, COME GET ME!” he yelled in response. He tore his mask off on his face to send his voice ringing across the empty sky. “COME GET ME, YOU COWARD!”

A distant rustling of wings responded to his cry. Two pinpricks of purple emerged from the haze between two pillars, growing larger and larger by the second as the dragon finally charged him head on. Purple magic trailed out of her jaws, pulled into long streaks behind her as she barreled towards him. And in her eyes, all the fury of an ancient being, all directed at one tiny spot of green on the endstone.

Dream finally placed his last bed down on the endstone, one hand hovering over it in anticipation.

The Enderdragon shot closer and closer. He waited until he could see the individual scales on her hide, all independently shifting and scintillating in the firelight. He waited until he could see her teeth bared, streaks of purple magic trailing from the gaps between each tooth. And he waited until all he could see was her eyes, magenta sclera and dark, purple pupils. And in them, a reflection of himself, a blood-streaked face and two bright, green eyes that rivaled all the ancient fury in her own. 

Finally, all he saw was purple.

Dream detonated the bed.

BOOM!

Fire engulfed his vision as he was violently thrown backwards. His back slammed into the pillar, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Stars exploded before his eyes as his skull cracked against the bedrock. He slid down to the base of the pillar in a crumpled pile.

Above him, there were sounds of a dragon dying. A horrible cracking filled the sky, echoing into a deep, rumbling boom that shook the world to its very core. Her body hung in the sky, cracks running through her dark scales. Then with a final groan, she shattered into pieces, beams of purple and white light streaking through the air.

Glowing orbs fell onto the endstone, a twinkling celestial rain. After a long drought, the End portal finally began to fill. 

Dream struggled to keep his eyes open. His limbs felt heavy, all the strength in him extinguished. Gentle waves lapped against his skin, cradling his body in its glimmering, starry waters. He sank below the waves, letting the gentle motion rock him to sleep. The world darkened around the edges, and dimmed. He let his eyes fall closed.

The dragon was dead.

Finally, he could rest.

Chapter Text

Dream respawned in rolling plains of flowers. 

Yes, respawned.

The sensation itself was pleasant, like a warm blanket being gently tugged away, depositing him back into the folds of the world. The sun was rising on the horizon, casting the world in an ethereal pane of white light. Dust motes danced among rays of sunlight, and for a brief moment, he thought he’d died and gone to the afterlife, wherever it was. But as the smudged silhouette of Hypixel’s sprawling towers and sky islands rose to the farside of the sun, he recognized that he had been returned to that stretch of plains surrounding the city.

This, apparently, was Spawn.

It was absolutely jam-packed with people. After all, the End had been emptied of its endermen, and here were all its lost souls. Players young and old milled about the tall grasses, admiring the plant life and flowers. Cries of recognition rose amongst the formerly dead, and laughter began to fill the air. Dream began pushing through the crowd, unconsciously searching for a certain player. His brain hadn’t fully caught up with his body yet, and thankfully no one noticed his love-struck stumbling.

His head snapped up at the sound of wings above him, throwing him out of his thoughts. Immediately, his body tensed, memories of dark scales and purple fire flashing before his eyes.

To the fanfare of screams, a great, black dragon landed at Spawn. Its menacing entrance was instantly ruined when a herd of kids came spilling off its back.

“David!” they yelled, dashing off into the crowd, “Where are you, KrustyDavid?”

“Astelic! Walli! Chaz!” came an answering cry. A brown-haired teen in overalls and round glasses ran out, then paused when he caught sight of the rest of the guild. “Oh my god, you guys are all here!” He sprinted over to embrace them.

The crowd seemed to recognize that this was the reuniting of another lost soul, and the atmosphere returned to be filled with warm murmurs.

“Took you long enough.”

A gust of wind blew past him and a familiar head of black and white hair appeared in his vision. Eighty swaggered up to him, hands tucked in the pockets of his long jacket. The black material was torn and stained with blood, and Eighty himself looked like he’d gotten attacked by a large, very toothy bird, but he gave him an easy smile. “I knew you could do it.”

Dream looked down at himself, skin cleared of all wounds, the fabric of his hoodie green and untorn, and then back at Eighty again. “You look horrible,” he said.

“Nothing a couple of gapps couldn’t fix,” he shrugged, “Or end crystals if I’m feelin’ fancy.”

Right. End crystals.

“Are- are you the Enderdragon now?” he couldn’t help but ask. He instantly felt his heart rate spike again, ready to pump adrenaline into his veins. He’d taken down one dragon, could he take one more?”

“Oh boy, now that’s a thought,” Eighty whistled, running a hand through his hair. “Nah man, it doesn’t work like that. Jean’s still the Enderdragon, even though she’s dead.” He quirked an eyebrow at him. “Someone could always respawn her though, so be on the lookout for that.”

He nodded, too relieved to say anything.

“Ha, you thought it was kill one tyrant and replace ‘em with another, huh?” Eighty grinned. He pointed at himself and clicked his tongue. “Don’t you worry mister dragonslayer, this dragon’s satisfied with hoarding chaotic teenagers, not departed souls.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Though if you even think about coming after me, I’ll sic all my kids on you, understood?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He bobbed his head in sync with Eighty.

“Good.”

A thought struck him. “About that prophecy,” Dream began, “I heard you on that first night, talking to Chazm. Was that about me?”

“Oh, that thing?” Eighty scoffed, sporting a similar attitude as before. “Look, all I said was ‘Aw man, Jean’s gonna get destroyed someday, mark my words,’ and then they marked my words and called it a prophecy.”

“Did you know ‘cause you were a dragon?”

“Nah, I knew because a long time ago, I went to the End, too.” Eighty smiled. “And when I failed, I knew I wasn’t the first, and I wouldn’t be the last. Eventually, someone will come along some day and finish the job. It would be my duty, then, to guide anyone who could along.”

Dream remembered the empty obsidian pillars in the End, monoliths to the players that had come before. And if anyone respawned the Enderdragon after him, there would be more. The future was in good hands. He nodded, his mind spacing out again.

Eighty smirked at the vacant expression on his face. “Lookin’ for something?”

“Yeah, I’m, I’m looking- for- for….” he stammered, trying to remember what he’d been so preoccupied with.

“Okay, I get it, go kiss boys or something,” Eighty shrugged. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added, “I’m sure your hunter is around here somewhere.”

Hunter.

He froze.

Eighty seemed to recognize his worry. “Hey, look.” He took him by the shoulders and steered him around.

The crowd shifted slightly, and then parted to reveal a boy in dark glasses standing on the grass. George blinked against the bright sunlight, rubbing his head and looking confused. The streaked beams of sunlight turned strands of his brown hair gold. He hadn’t spotted them yet.

“You’ve killed the dragon, there’s no reason for him to hunt you anymore,” Eighty said. He gave Dream a shove. “Go talk to him, or something.”

Dream dug his heels into the ground. “I can’t. What if-”

“You literally killed a dragon for him, dude.”

He put his hands up. “Actually, it was for-”

“No no, don’t even try telling me it was for-” Eighty put on a mocking voice, “ ‘the good of the Universe,’ or some nonsense like that. You’re whipped, man.”

Dream remained standing stock-still, frozen in place.

“And if there’s still any lingering doubts,” Eighty waggled his eyebrows, “You should totally show him the, you know-” He mimed taking a mask off his face. “That’ll take care of it.”

When Dream only laughed nervously, he clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m being serious dude, you look good. Don’t feel like you need to hide yourself, man.” He patted his shoulder one last time for good measure before walking off. 

“There you are David, you slippery little weasel!” he heard him call out to the boy Astelic had embraced earlier, “Welcome back to the land of the living. Finally I’ll get paid.”

Dream swallowed nervously and took a step towards the hunter in the grass. His heart pounded in his chest and he made sure all his weapons were tucked away, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. He knew George wouldn’t take it too well, seeing him right after he’d killed him for what they’d thought was the final time.

George swung around, finally catching sight of him. His heart sank when he immediately reached for a sword that was not there.

Remember when you kissed my forehead and wished for a better future? he tried to say, but it seemed out of place now. Actions that had once been done out of desperation had no place amongst the now-living. They had a whole future ahead of them now.

Respawn. A new start. A new life.

Before he could give himself time to think, he stepped forward and removed his mask.

George froze. Then he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, as if he could not believe what he’d just seen.

Dream noted with satisfaction the pink that dusted his cheeks. His confidence surged.

“Hi!” He stuck out a hand, a smile on his face. “My name’s Clay.”

They didn’t just have one lifetime to start things all over again.

They had infinitely many.