Dream is vaguely aware of the fact that he's just been slammed down against the ground, caught between the mass of a gaster blaster. Whether it's Dust's or Killer's or someone else's, he isn't sure—he just knows that it hurts, and maybe, this is the end. At first, he had just been trying to protect this AU from another one of Nightmare's attacks, but he had very quickly learned that it was a planned ambush.

Nearly all of his energy has been used up now. He can feel the crunch of his ribs as he wheezes out a dry cough, and he's hit with the sudden realization that he doesn't even have enough magic left over to heal himself—let alone to repair the damage that the trio of his brother's crew have left behind. With a shuddering groan of pain, Dream musters up the very last bit of strength he can. It isn't much, but he can only pray that it will be enough to get him out of the battlefield and to somewhere he might actually have a chance of recovering in.

That's the last thought he gets before he's surrounded in the dull golden glow of his own magic, and just as his eyesockets fall shut, he feels himself slump limply against a wall in an AU that likely even he hasn't heard of before.