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Dream digs his fingers into the soil. Breathes in and out. He's free. Far, far away from any other players. Out of the godforsaken tundra. He allows himself to savour the moment for a bit, before getting to work.
Build an underground base, mine for materials, collect wool for a bed. He carefully lures some sheep into a fenced off area, effectively trapping them. There, now he can shear them.
He had met up with Punz to regroup and recollect, taking stock of his resources. He had gone to the beach and wS pleased to find Tommy practically waiting to be reminded of his place, but the boy had run to Philza. How annoying. Dream tightens his grip on his axe at the memory, and breathes out. Relax. He'll have plenty of time to build back up his efforts.
(He's so tired.)
He'll have everything again.
(Does he want that anymore?)
He can get revenge on Quackity for torturing him. For digging those shears into his skin and breaking his limbs and gouging out an eye and pushing him into the lava so Dream is pristine once again.
Dream swings his axe idly at a tree as he thinks of how he could hurt Quackity back. And Sam. The Warden needs some new training. Dream pauses, feeling listless as he lets his axe hang by his side. It is….difficult these days to form that inferno.
To find the urge to make plans, to prepare, to wrestle his destiny back in place. It's hard. There was always a goal in mind; just like how back in the manhunts, he needed to kill the Ender Dragon, and not die to his hunters. Oh, he had been furious in the early days of the prison, but as Quackity's visits persisted, his fire dwindled with them.
Dream sits down carefully, resting his axe in his lap. He's not sure where his train of thought is going. Manhunts. Those were fun. Until they ended.
Now Sapnap is hunting him down with fiery hatred in his eyes and George is sleeping and Bad and Ant are doing god knows what.
Dream punches the ground with a frustrated growl; he cannot afford weakness. He needs to be strong. He is a god.
(He is human.)
He will not be broken.
(He already is.)
Dream gets up, marching back to his base. Back to work.
Dream does little things. Tends to his underground farm, gets more netherite, enchants his weapons to hell and back. He takes care of the sheep, breeding them and leading them to the slaughter. He adds a few cows too. Gets a horse. Turns his shelter into something more reminiscent of a home. Punz makes the trip to him every month or so, and their conversations shift from the revival book to activities like like fishing. It's strangely soothing.
It's only when about half a year passes that he realises that he's idling. Sitting here, living his days out in this tucked away corner of the world. Carefully picked; one cannot simply stumble upon his base, not when they all stay so close to civilization. And Dream isn't bored.
He trains, farms, and feeds himself and his animals. Dream stares down at the bones in his hands. He had been about to go tame a wolf or two as guard dogs. And get another cat for the farm to ward away creepers.
Dream feels his skin crawl as he drops the bones onto the springy dirt, stumbling back. Oh. He has gone lax.
Soft, the same way he cursed so many for.
He should be back in the core of the server, asserting his rule. They're likely still hunting even now; Quackity wants that revival book too desperately not to.
Dream shudders, falling to his knees and digging his fingers into the dirt. What is he doing? He does not have the luxury of time.
He has so many plans, so many visions of the world. Punz, his only remaining contact to the world, had never bothered to question Dream's complacency rather than a few cursory inquiries. The last time the mercenary was here, they had installed a beehive nearby. A beehive! Dream remembers warm bread slathered with honey, and can't find it in himself to be enraged.
Wouldn't it be nice to savour it all?
He laughs bitterly at the thought, curling his fingers into fists. That would just make it all the more worse when it was finally taken away. He cannot relax. He can't just stay like this, stagnant, never doing something. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't-
Dream's breath hitches in his throat as he claws at the dirt. He's a monster. A god. He does not simply live. He cannot.
He picks himself up and shuffles back into his base. He does not deserve peace. He deserves more. Right? Dream is worthy of everything he wants.
He presses his palms to burning eyes, and tries not to think of lava and the mockery of a smile that had been carved onto his back. It's not his fault. He doesn't deserve pain. He doesn't, he doesn't.
He is a villain, he is a cruel god, but he does not deserve torture. He does not deserve that humiliation, that pain-
(Blood glues his eyes shut, an iron poker being pressed onto his skin, the thing half melted from being stuck in the lava.)
Dream stumbles into his bed, clawing obsessively at his skin. He needs - what does he need? What’s so wrong about staying like this? Does the server even deserve his lofty vision of them all? His grace, his hope? He scrambles desperately for an answer in his mind, chest tight as he comes up empty, and he muffles a pathetic sound into his pillow. He'll think about it tomorrow. In the morning. He ignores that it's only late afternoon and curls up to sleep.
Dream wakes up to explosions. To the sizzle of TNT far too close and he's up, scrambling to pinpoint the source. They come from above, and Dream is digging down, blocking the space above him with cobblestone just as fast.
All his most important things are always in his inventory, and his armor is always on, so he makes his escape without hesitation. He tunnels a distance away, mining up towards the surface as the explosions begin to quiet.
Dream claws out of the dirt with a gasp, spinning towards the space where his base was under. It's completely ruined. The animals he had are either blown to bits or charred lumps, and there's a crater where his base is supposed to be. Dream feels...empty.
The base had been safe, it was supposed to be safe, and now it isn't. The smoke clears, and Dream can't help his flinch when he sees Quackity, clad in netherite and (one) eye glinting with triumph. Sam looms behind him, trident planted on the ground, but what really draws his attention is Sapnap, and the enchanted compass he holds.
After every manhunt, the hunters would keep the compass that pointed to Dream. They made a new one each time, for whatever reason. Every hunter has at least one from all the games they've done. It’s clear Sapnap had scrounged up one of his to track Dream down, leading them to his base easily.
Dream shakes for a moment, sucking in a breath as he takes a step back, before turning and running. The three men shout, taking chase. He needs to destroy that compass, crush it under his boot. He needs to cut off Sapnap. He needs-
Dream's hand curls around the familiar hilt of his sword, remembering Sapnap stealing his armor, his Nightmare. He risks a glance behind him; Quackity is no fighter, Sam is unused to running, not made for bursts of speed. But Sapnap has always been the fastest hunter, the most stubborn, and he persists, hot on Dream's trail.
The compass swings on his neck, and Dream spins mid-air to let loose an arrow at it; Sapnap blocks the attack with a shield. Dream hurls an Enderpearl in the same heartbeat Sapnap is preoccupied, and dives in, slamming his fist towards the compass.
Sapnap jerks, confused as to why Dream's attacking him barehanded when he has Thorns on his chestplate, just as Dream connects with the compass. Glass shatters beneath Dream's fist, and he wraps his bloody hand around it and yanks, the chain snapping. In that moment Sapnap raises his sword in retaliation, and Dream meets the blade by letting it bite into his free arm, the sword sinking into flesh like a hot knife through butter.
Dream swallows a cry, and yanks both arms backwards, grimacing at his wounds. Dream meets Sapnap's eyes - not that the other can tell with his mask - for a moment, and Sapnap has nothing but coldness in his gaze now.
Dream stumbles back just as the Enderpearl hits the surface, and he's yanked away. Dream grunts at the teleport, blood flowing even faster from the use of End magic. He shoves the compass into his inventory, throwing another Ender Pearl without a second thought. His wounds pulse with pain, but he keeps throwing the smooth orbs one after another, before finally crashing against a tree to swallow some health potions.
He waits as his wounds seal shut, frowning at bloodied knuckles. Whatever. He's been found. His plans can no longer wait; he needs to get back to civilization now.
Dream tries not to think of the irony of this situation; he spent so long just living, had a breakdown about returning to civilisation just yesterday, and now he was forced out before he even had a chance to properly think it over.
He growls in his throat, and tosses the ruined compass into the nearest lava pool. He then proceeds to build a Nether portal, breaking the thing down with quick and efficient strokes once he's through.
The heat blasts him once he steps in, and Dream allows himself to collapse onto the floor bonelessly once he's done destroying the portal. His eyes dart from one lava pool to the next, raking his gaze over the lava falls and taking note of a ghast flying away from him. He pokes at the brittle and springy netherrack, sinking his fingers in without too much trouble.
Dream takes a swig of water from one of his flasks, and begins digging upwards, towards the Nether roof. He covers up his tracks a little, but is more focused on getting to the roof than anything. He does the glitch, and he's up on the roof, nothing around him for miles.
Dream jogs along at a steady pace, checking his coordinates every once in a while to make sure he's going in the right direction. He's fifteen minutes in before he discards the green hoodie and leaves on his undershirt, but doesn't stop. Fuck, why is he so tired? Stamina wasn't his strong suit after the shitshow that was the prison, but still. He can't waste too many of his pearls in case the hunters catch up somehow.
So he keeps moving, putting one foot in front of the other.
Patches had been outside when the explosions went off, Dream thinks distantly of the cat, when the monotony of the journey gets to him. He had found the brown tabby while out wandering. Now she's dead. Dream chokes on something in his throat as he flings a Enderpearl in the direction of the server core.
"It's just a stupid cat." Dream hisses to himself as he snaps out of existence and to where the pearl cracked open. "Just a dumb fucking cat."
A cat that had curled up in his lap by the fire on cold nights, who nosed at him when he awoke from nightmares, who hissed at the creepers that came close while he was out gathering food.
Dream shakes his head roughly, and throws another Ender Pearl. Sapnap was likely to tell Quackity and Sam that Dream would be lurking nearby, always watching and ready to strike while they were unguarded. Jokes on them, Dream's getting the fuck away.
He hikes for about a day before settling down to take a short nap, one he'll wake up from easily. He gets a few fitful hours before scrambling awake, whirling around in search of life. Nothing but a few mushrooms. Dream checks his coordinates, and keeps going.
It takes a while more before he makes it back. Before he sees houses made by Players. He climbs the nearest mountain, flopping onto the ground without a care. He's so...tired. The trip had taken a lot out of Dream. The Dream that had been so complacent for the past six months.
He needs to get up. Take stock. Rearrange his plans. Meet up with Punz. A hundred different things that he doesn't want to fucking do.
Dream groans, slinging an arm over his face. Quackity would never stop, not while Dream had the revival book. It's with startling clarity that he remembers all the times he had wished to die forever, in the prison. To fade away into nothingness.
Dream hates the memories of those days, but they rise up in his brain like the fucking pests they are. Wouldn't it be nice to just rest? Forever.
Dream swallows, sitting up. No. He doesn't get that fucking privilege, he doesn't get to return to the stars, not after what he's done. Not after what everyone has done. This is his server, and they-
Dream lets the sob crawl out of his throat. They don't fucking need him. They want him gone. But he won't fucking leave, because he has his stupid pride and he is clinging onto his last scraps of dignity. He won't fucking let go. He has to build his foundation again.
Dream strangles the whine in his throat, taking deep breaths. He chose this. He chose this path. He still fucking hates the bitter guilt that rises up like bile. They don't need him, they don't want him. He needs to fucking leave. He needs control over a server that has learned to move on from him.
Dream struggles for a moment, torn between the two, and drops his head into his hands. Begins running the ideas through his brain. He needs to find someone to kill him. Just for a bit, just enough for things to calm down; for his own forsaken thoughts to settle down.
His thoughts go to Tommy. One last thing to slam into Tommy's head; make him kill his villain, his abuser. It would be nice, wouldn't it? Dream would get to watch Tommy's last few moments of hesitation with all his fear, while Dream waits patiently with his neck bared.
He chooses death this way. He's the one to back Tommy into a corner, not just offer himself up for the slaughter. An eye for an eye. Tommy gets to claim his last life, just like Dream did. They steal from each other, one after another. Gods are not given things. Gods take.
Tommy will not be granting him peace or mercy. Dream will be the one who pries it from the boy's trembling hands.
He'll leave a mark this way, definitely; forcing the boy to look him in the eyes as life drains from them. Dream cares not for if Tommy takes the moment as his win; as long as Dream knows his terms, he's fine. He's the furthest thing from running at 100% right now, lethargy in his veins and thoughts of Punz in the back of his head.
Punz will know what to do the moment the message rings out across communicators. His last ally, his most trusted confidant; he taught the man how to weave the strings of life around his fingers, how to tug and pull at souls. Dream will die for a while, put everyone at ease, and then Punz will bring him back with the server none the wiser! And then they can finally start the true finale. With all that in mind, he sets off to track Tommy down.
It's surprisingly easy to find Tommyinnit. The stars must be feeling mischievous today.
Tommy drops the flowerpot he’s carrying - of all things - when he sees Dream, eyes going wide as he scrambles back, a diamond sword falling into his hands. Dream grimaces at the shatter of the flower pot, but drops a splash potion of strength on himself as he unsheathes his gleaming netherite sword, daring Tommy to strike first.
He sees it in the way Tommy falters, despair starting to set in before he stiffens, squaring his shoulders and glares at Dream. Looks like he's been changing while Dream was gone.
"Fuck you." Tommy spits, gripping his sword like a lifeline. "You don't get to fucking waltz back into my life, fuck you fuck you fuck you-"
"Oh shut up." Dream hisses, rolling his eyes as Tommy shrinks briefly. Stupid boy with all bark and no bite. "Kill me."
Now that takes Tommy by surprise, the boy gaping at him as Dream discards his armor, tossing it to the ground easily.
"What the fuck is this? Some kind of fucking mind game? Quit playing around!" Tommy shrieks, fumbling with his sword as he stares at the man warily.
"Kill me." Dream scoffs, watching with disinterest as Tommy seems to cycle through the stages of grief, and grabs the boy’s sword himself, guiding it oh so carefully to his throat.
"Stab me, Tommy." Dream croons, delighting when Tommy stares up at him with shock and apprehension. "Kill the big bad villain."
"I-"
"That wasn't a request, Tommy." Dream snaps. "Either you kill me or I kill you, and then I'll make good on my promise."
Tommy shudders obviously at the reminder, but there's still so much suspicion; clearly wondering if this is a trap. So Dream kicks Tommy in the knee, and the boy stumbles, driving the sword into Dream's throat with his guiding hand.
Tommy yanks back instantly, and Dream laughs, a gurgled thing wet with blood as he falls, trying to keep his eyes on Tommy. He last thought is vindication at the boy's horrified face at the latest scar he’s carved onto the boy before the world goes dark.
[Dream was slain by Tommyinnit]