After hours of laughter and celebration with Dream, exhaustion finally caught up with you both. You sank onto a worn wooden bench, the festival around you slowly winding down as the villagers began to leave. The once lively music and chatter faded into a soft murmur, swallowed by the creeping night.

Just as you and Dream decided to check on Nightmare, the air shifted — a sudden drop in temperature, heavy and oppressive. An eerie silence fell, pressing against your ears. It was the kind of stillness that screams danger. A cold shiver crawled down your spine, as if something unseen was watching, waiting.

You glanced at Dream. His usually calm face was pale, eyes wide with fear. He whispered, voice trembling, “Nightmare...” and bolted toward the ancient tree.

You raced after him, heart pounding. Dream was faster, but soon you closed the gap. Then you stopped dead.

The apples hanging from the branches had all turned a deep, unnatural black — their once golden glow replaced by shadow and decay. Beneath the tree stood Nightmare, his figure surrounded by a furious crowd. The villagers screamed, their faces twisted with rage and fear, throwing stones with desperate fury.

Nightmare gripped one of the black apples tightly. His lips curled in defiance as the mob closed in.

Dream pushed through the crowd, shouting, “NIGHTMARE! BROTHER, PLEASE STOP!” But his voice was drowned by chaos.

Before anyone could react, Nightmare bit into the apple.

A sickening crack echoed through the air. Black goo began to seep from his body, bubbling and spreading like living darkness. The sound of bones breaking and flesh distorting filled your ears. Your stomach twisted in horror.

You pushed forward, screaming his name, desperate to reach him — but the crowd held you back.

Nightmare’s transformation was complete. The corrupted darkness overtook him, and his eyes gleamed with a cruel, malevolent light. The villagers' screams turned to terrified cries as Nightmare unleashed his wrath, striking them down one by one — everyone except you.

Nearby, Dream collapsed to his knees, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

When the bloodshed ended, Nightmare turned his gaze to Dream and, with a wave of corrupted power, turned him into cold, unyielding stone. It was a grim punishment — a price for Dream having eaten the last Golden Apple.

Then, with a chilling grin, Corrupted!Nightmare stepped toward you. His voice dripped with venomous delight.

“Well, my friend,” he hissed, “it’s just you and me now — alone in the ruins of this village. Everyone else is dead. Let me finish what I started.”

His eyes flickered for a brief moment — a shadow of something else lurking beneath the madness. A flicker of hesitation, or perhaps a memory buried deep within.

He laughed — a sound full of darkness and madness, echoing through the cold, shattered night.

You realize then that this night is far from over. Somewhere inside that corruption, a spark remains... but whether it will save you, or consume you too, remains to be seen.