Organized Chaos

Dream part 1

To the smp
I'm leaving to travel the server, and fix some mistakes. I won't come back unless you need me to, or if you need help. I'm still the admin, and will help anything that I can and that includes deaths. I know I held the information back, and I still do now, it's too dangerous for others to revive people.
So, if someone dies, I can bring them back, and leave again if you want me to. And I can do it again and again, it's not a problem.
I want you to know that I won't be a problem, and the last thing I want to do is cause harm now. You guys deserve to live your best lives, fear free. So do that, and have fun doing it. I will hear of your victories from far lands. Celebrate, and have a fun time in this world, this is why i made it, for you guys to have a safe spot to be yourselves. And I ruined that.
I'm sorry for everything I've done. To everyone. Nobody deserves what I did, and when I was in prison, I realized it. And I don't want to make you guys feel…trapped.
So you won't see me. You guys can do anything now. All your lives have been replenished, back to the original three per person. So live, be kids again, and be happy. I never was able to show that all I wanted was a family. And I'm sorry I changed. I was cruel and wrong.
Have a good life.
-Dream :)

(p.s. phil is in charge now)

Putting down the quill, Dream stood up from the broken desk he fixed up just enough to help his task. He brushed the dirt off the letter seal, and using a flint and steel heated the wax he had gotten. He sealed eight letters, the designs had his trademark smile on it and he stuffed the letters in his bag. He readjusted his armor, clicking when it made contact with the other pieces, and stood looking at his hands. Scars, burns, marks. It covered what used to be soft and kind hands, but now it's just…ruined.

As he walked, the emotions he held tight for too long started to come loose, like it was turning from rocks to sand, slipping between his fingers and falling around him. He was tired, more than any day he spent in the prison. He was more worn out even after a long night watching for any attackers, days on end. He was exhausted even more so after weeks of fighting, and weeks of running, making plans and destroying lifes. He was so tired.

Yet he couldn't stop here, in the heart of it all where he ruined so many different things. He was an enemy, hunted here, there was no time to be tired. No room for weakness. So he set his back straight, and he fixed his askew armor, he walked with his head held high, even if his eyes had bags under them, behind this mask was nothing to others. He walked on, no limp in his step, or wince when he moved his hurt ribs, or panting from the overexertion. He didn't show any of it. He walked with an ax drawn, shield at the ready, and an eye on anything that even moved. There is no room for being weak when I've done too many wrongs for a right.

He walked away, heading for the portal at the top of the hill, the steps almost made him falter. His leg still needed to heal, but he continued regardless, with only a grimace at the new feeling of blood on his bandages. The portal with its purple hue was glowing, lighting the area around him with changing shades of violet. The effect when stepping inside was instant and almost a sickening feeling. His vision swirled and turned, making his gut follow in suit, but the change was quick, and when he stepped out, the world all around him was different.

Stepping out from the portal, his view was filled with blood red fog that lay heavy in every corner seen. There were waterfalls of lava, cascading down and into a pooling lake underneath the path in the sky. It was blistering hot, but his armor protected him, albeit slightly. Walking was hard, the path they made so long ago was deteriorating and crumbling at the edges, making it unsafe to go so fast. Of course, there were monsters littering the grounds, on the netherrack that acted as a dirt substitute, its red color dull to the crimson forests that are littered around.

As Dream walked he avoided many conflicts and confrontation with the occupants of this purgatory substitute, he wasn't looking to fight, nor was he in any condition to do so. He kept walking, the heat bearable now, and in the distance was another portal, one that matched the main one everyone used. Yet this one was different, it was far away, and hardly used.
On the other side was the world's best fighter, and the best watchbird around.