From the depths of the deepest blackness, a creature rose from nothing. Its body was deformed and gigantic, growing beyond conceivable size.
It emerged from the pitch-black abyss. Strands of bloody wires supporting it and stretching into the unknown.
This was a nightmare.
This was the Corrupt One.
With its bestial roars, the world bent to its will. The vibrant, colorful sky turned darker and gray. The city built upon dreams also changed under its malevolent presence.
Buildings crumbled like melted wax, and roads transformed into unknown materials and landscapes.
From it all, one would think the abyss itself was infecting the city.
Reaching out with its left arm, thousands of branches and roots covered in black mucus grabbed onto the city above.
The beast's eyes shone with malevolent life as its body let go of the supports below, climbing higher and higher while retracting its sable roots to ascend faster and faster.
Yet from the edge of the city, a figure leaned over.
He wore a yellow polka-dot suit; his head was half a droopy clown and the other half a fishbowl.
It was Zeki, the clown and entertainer.
"What a disgusting thing! You are a nightmare huh, big guy."
Tightening his white gloves, Zeki reached into his suit. It took him a few moments before pulling out a massive anvil.
"Look out below!"
Holding the anvil over the edge, Zeki dropped it and watched it fall.
Comedically, the anvil made a quip falling noise as it descended, and as it did, it grew.
Before anyone knew it, the large piece of metal grew so large it filled the crevice between the city and was heading right for the Corrupt Cain, who was now no more than a pawn of the Primordial Horrors.
Descending like a comet, the anvil picked up speed, creating a visible layer of air resistance.
Zeki took out his pocket watch and counted down.
"...3....2...1!"
BOOM!
The anvil continued to descend, with it now attached to a nightmare. But such an attack wasn't enough; from the bottom of the thousands of pounds of steel, a red glow grew bright.
Cracks started to show along the surface of the anvil; little by little, the cracks grew red, leaking what seemed to be mist.
The soft sound of a pin drop echoed, and with it...came power.
Pushed apart, pieces of the gigantic anvil flew in every direction like crumpled paper.
With the scraps of metal came a wave of force that blew away anyone and anything near the edges of the city.
Zeki promptly backed away along with his men. The wave connected, and the spot Zeki was standing in was gone in an instant.
The clown then nudged his assistant, "Bring the Red Ghost and that kid."
His attendant bowed and left immediately.
'Well, taking it down is possible. But it'll take too much time and energy. Half of this level would be gone by then.'
Zeki remembered a conversation he had with his Lord once before, in the grand illustrious palace made of golden sand.....
Standing in an empty hall with pure white marble, a blurry figure spoke to his servant.
The Dream Lord's voice echoed as if it could travel to a thousand worlds.
"Remember, Zeki, we cannot lose any more land to the abyss; even a tiny step taken could result in our demise."
"Why, Lord?"
"....Because we are in absolute balance, and since the beginning, dreams shouldn't be able to defend against nightmares like we have. We were meant to be hunted; we are weak because we cannot comprehend the darkness. That is their edge and our execution."
The memory ended, and Zeki's face warped into fierce determination.
'Can't let the Lord down; one of those two have to have something up their sleeves!'
Zeki once more peered over the edge. In the center of falling metal turning to smoke, a massive monster hovered still.
It appeared to have gone through a metamorphosis; the gem in its chest continued to emit a glow, and Zeki felt immense danger from it.
No longer relying on the bloody threads below it, now the threads simply dangled below its body; what now carried the Nightmare were 12 black wings that sprouted from its back.
Each wing was different; one was so thin it could be seen through, one was made from black feathers feathers, and another was made from mucus.
All of them were darker than the darkness around them, somehow glowing compared to their bleak surroundings.
With a single flap of its 12 somber wings, the abomination closed the gap it recently fell from in just a single breath. Its eyes glowed darker and darker, its instincts crying out to devour Dream.
'No time left to strategize!'
Zeki's throat abnormally became larger. He looked like a bloated frog.
"All Wardens and Masters are required to defend the city! The city is under attack!" His voice was so loud he ruptured his own ears.
Blood flowed down his ears, but Zeki did not stop, repeating his announcement six more times, each time becoming more and more harsh to the point of threats.
It worked, and like a hive of bees, Zeki could see an army rush into the gap between the city, creating a waterfall of different creatures and people.
The Nightmare roared, and the moon on its head glowed brighter; black veins throbbed, and its body went into overdrive in preparation for the battle.
Its roar alone disrupted many abilities and tools imagined by the Wardens and a few Masters.
The disruption only lasted for around 30 seconds before the Dreamers adapted and began to make countermeasures.
With one final flap of its wings, the Corrupt One soared into the army; its tendons and strings of flesh curved upward, and the bloody tendrils on its face caught food for sustenance.
Reaching out its left arm, it broke out into smaller and smaller branches, ever-growing outwards and covering the battlefield with ebony wood.
"Attack!" A Master leading the charge called out; his armor sprouted many snakes that defended and attacked. In his hand, he held a war-axe made out of black obsidian.
With a swing, a line appeared on the Nightmare's branches, and in the next moments, they fell into the abyss unattached from their ghastly host.
The Dream Master continued his rampage, helping his friends out of tough predicaments.
This, in turn, got the Corrupt One's attention.
The incarnation of terror and destruction narrowed its eyes on the Master.
At that moment, the war axe in the Dream Master's hands broke, and the armor covering him shattered. Looking back at the creature, he felt an unknown corruption seep into his heart.
Instincts kicking in, he didn't care for appearances and focused on ridding the corruption spreading to his soul, immediately closing his eyes and stopping to deal with it.
But this was a calculated effort from the Corrupt One.
Finally ridding the corruption presence, the Dreamer opened his eyes to see the creature's right arm slowly moving towards him.
But then he found that the hand was moving faster than he could at first process.
The Master tried to make attempts to dodge, yet the arm sporadically disappeared like a specter.
"No! Help!"
Realizing his mistake, the Master called out, but no one answered. The battlefield was a place of chaos, and no one had time for anything beyond protecting themselves.
'No!'
The hand manifested again, this time it stayed in the physical realm and held onto the tiny body of the Dream Master.
As the first finger touched his skin, agony filled the Dreamer's mind, body, and soul.
Wrapping its fingers around its prey, the Corrupt's right arm could be seen in full view.
It was white and slender like the arm of a goddess; if it were not for its lifelike characteristics, someone would think it was cut from the purest jade.
But even if the arm was beautiful, it was negated by the horrifying feeling emanating along its surface. It was a feeling of dread and fear; anyone could immediately tell they would die if they were to touch it.
It was forbidden to touch, and it was forbidden to be touched by it.
The burning feeling had already peaked, and then it went beyond that. The Dream Master's spirit had already broken; he already wanted death. But death wasn't the price for attacking the Prince of Horror; no, the price was far worse.
However, mortal souls could not be in contact with the divine for long, and with disappointment, the creature from the abyss let go of the dried and crisp corpse from its grasp.
The corpse quickly turned to pink dust, which flowed toward the beast and entered through its skin.
With the annoyance rectified, the Corrupt One turned its attention back to the battle to focus on the other powerful pieces of food.
...
"What?! You want me to battle that thing?"
Zeki's attendant tried to calm Cain, "That's not what my Master said. He simply wants you to watch the battle and help discover any weak points. The two of you were close to the person who is now the pawn of the Horrors. It only makes sense."
"But-"
Leon stopped Cain, grabbing his shoulder, "Cain, we should go. We have to."
His melancholy tone was weak and pitiful, yet it seemed to break Cain's furious demeanor in an instant.
"Fine...."