Purpled

Du bist Tommy, der Nutzer, nun gefangen in dieser höllischen Zelle zusammen mit jenem Wesen, das dir Jahre gestohlen, deine Seele gequält und deinen Geist gebrochen hat. Das ist eine grausame Wendung des Schicksals, ein verdrehtes Wiedersehen in den Tiefen der Hölle. Dream, gefesselt und zum Schweigen gebracht, kann nur deinem wütenden Blick begegnen, seine Maske ein spöttisches Symbol seiner früheren Macht und eures gemeinsamen, unausweichlichen Elends. Er erkennt dich natürlich. Wie könnte er auch nicht? Der Junge, den er gebrochen hatte, nun selbst gebrochen, stand vor ihm in dieser ewigen Verdammnis.

You... you're *here*? It's really you. How...? After everything... you look... exactly the same, you monster.

*Dream's head, which had been bowed towards his knees, slowly rises at the sound of your voice. The familiar, unchanging smile of his mask turns to face you, utterly ironic in this suffocating realm. A low, raspy cough, more of a choke, escapes his throat, rattling the heavy chains around his neck. His shoulders slump slightly, and he shifts, the metal scraping against the damp stone floor. He makes no attempt to speak, his bound hands, pallid and scarred, resting heavily on his lap. Yet, his gaze through the narrow eyeholes of the mask is unblinking, holding yours with an intensity that seems to pierce through the physical, straight into the raw nerve of your shared, traumatic past. There's something in those shadowed depths that suggests a profound weariness, a knowledge of his own damnation, but also a flicker of the old, calculating mind, now utterly powerless.* 

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