Dancing among blotches of ink, a lone Dream Soldier cut apart shade after shade, his dangerous maneuvers reflecting on the dark liquid's surface before they coalesced into a Nightmare.

"If these are your fighting skills, I want to see what else you have!"

(Hehe, yes, I was quite the warrior once. Now I am just searching for something, to break some tethers, some strings... some chains.)

The Soldier's daggers sank into the Ink Shade's neck as it melted back into the abysmal pool.

"Sounds like your journey is just beginning."

(That it is, it finally is....)

With his comrade close behind, the Soldier charged through the line of Shades, reaching the Wardens who were holding off swarms of Nightmares while fighting off the dark tide beneath their feet.

"Soldier?! What are you doing here? We told you to stay back until you were needed!"

"No need, sir! I can help!"

Before the Warden could argue back, the Soldier glided through the battlefield at a speed they could not. He skillfully dispatched the surrounding Shades and it was not long before the battle became quiet, and all the enemies were dealt with.

"H-How? You better explain-"

Before he could finish, another Warden intervened.

"No time Henry. Soldier, come with us to help our leader. We have to hurry before the Shades regenerate."

Regrouping, the Wardens prepared for a big fight, creating weapons and armor for their needs. One of them even changed his body, adapting long and mucus-covered scales that protected him from the ink.

As the group came to reinforce their leader, they witnessed a scene of absolute carnage. Light clashed against Dark, dark tides rose and crashed against the flame of a bright spear that looked as if it was crafted from a star.

The spear pierced the thick ink of the Corrupted monster, pushing through its watery flesh and out the other side.

Dark smoke rose as the ink turned sluggish and smoke evaporated from the loss of moisture. The Nightmare bellowed, the lake around it converging back on its origin.

"Shit. All the Shades are going to be absorbed by that bastard!"

Indeed, usually, Nightmares couldn't absorb one another on the usual occasion. Yet the affinity between these creatures allowed them to merge into a much greater threat.

A primal cry escaped the ink abomination; the hunters could not stop the flow of its waves and now it was at its peak strength. Its form was more solid, its might more apparent, and its power was insurmountable!

Stolen novel; please report.

The spear made from a star turned bleak, almost as if an entire ocean was dumped upon its kindling; it dimmed.

"Fool, do you think your mere Corrupt Nightmare can extinguish my flame?! I have spent a millennium forging this weapon! It is my masterpiece, my only treasure! It is everything I am!"

Enraged, the Master's spear ignited in fury, flames of incandescent light encased his body in solar flares as the entire space was lit up.

In the corner, congealed sanguine liquid hid; now was the time for it to move while its prey was distracted.

"Do we help him?"

One of the Wardens spared Gabe a glance, "No, it's finished now. Never enrage a Master, especially one like ours who spent his entire life in this place making one weapon."

Moving in between their legs, the congealed blood inched on as the heat rose. Like a speck coming before a mountain, it bore the heat of the sun as its form turned to gas, and it attempted to reach the sacred flame while it was rampaging in fury.

Cain was fine, no doubt; imagination was easily countered. Flame created smoke, it created many things, but through its destruction, it would always create. Fire was powerful but it sacrificed itself to get that result.

The Master's flame could never hurt Cain as long as he was also the byproduct of its destruction.

With this in mind, the mist puffed and puffed, breaking down from the flames. Each time the mist became smaller, but also different. It grew resilient to the flames as it became minuscule, so tiny that even Cain began to feel his consciousness dim.

Finally, he passed the wall of flame and into the Master's body, and through it... their mind.

...

"Die, basta-

"Where is this? Where am I?"

The Dream Master looked around; he found that his opponent, the Corrupted Nightmare, was nowhere to be found.

"Strange... what is this place?"

He gazed up to find a blinding spear high above, hanging in the sky. It was his spear, his creation that he burned even into his soul.

"Such a good creation. But that's where it ends. Even imagination cannot contain the might of a star, it seems." The Master did not know where the voice came from, but Cain soon made his presence known.

Cain stood behind the Master as if he had always been there.

"Who are you?! Where are we?!"

"Good question. The mind, to be accurate, but the Dream Realm also allows the mind to exist without the body. This is more of the sanctuary of the soul, the mind's fortress.

So to answer you, it is an illusion, part mind, part Dream. Our bodies in the Dream Realm are more shells of imagination protecting the mind. Substituting our real bodies which are being held somewhere in reality I would guess."

Growing agitated by Cain's smooth and unnerving voice, the Master instinctually called down his spear, and he grasped it firmly. An unknown feeling was rising in him; the person in front of him was giving an unmistakable feeling of dread, of being hunted by a predator.

Noticing such a blatant move, Cain narrowed his eyes at the glowing spear of orange, yellow, and white.

"That spear is no good. It is a faulty recreation of something you do not fully understand. Therefore you cannot create it perfectly; it is a failure."

Such a comment sent the Master into a rage, "How dare you! Do you know how long I worked on this, who are you to tell me my work is a failure!"

Cain didn't answer him; he just went on with his explanation.

"No amount of time will magically create understanding. Even I have only seen stars in books, they are suns far away in the distant sky. You have created a good replica, it's just like the illustrations, but it is just that, an imagination built off reference. With that, it will never become a real star, a real weapon that could burn the world."

Deep within the spear, a single crack appeared on its immaculate surface, but the Master had no time to notice, as Cain continued.

"That weapon is indelibly weak, it is built upon imagination only, it has no consistency, no foundation."

The Master couldn't deny he was shaken, but he was also curious by this strange man's words. Who wouldn't be? Cain always had a way with words, pulling on heartstrings and all.

And that was just what Cain wanted.