Philophobia And Mizpah

Chapter 2

TW: blood, panic attack, mild self-harm, derealization

Since the day his ex-best friend said farewell, George's life took many twists and turns. Mainly his dreams merging with reality. But also, everything else. The Egg, the griefing, the murders, the dethronement, everything. He lived all through those moments numbly. He hid his emotions from everyone, he joined his friends on strange quests, he helped someone reach a goal, he laughed when everyone laughed. He thought he might break. He didn't. Or, he thought he didn't.

It all started before the farewell, before George's sleep became a problem. When DreamXD visited him for the first time. This stranger looked similarly to his friend. The same form, maybe a bit taller, and always levitating.

"Hello George," the voice echoed in his head.

George didn't quite know what to do. This person reminded him of Dream, appearances-wise. Dream was doing whatever he was doing and George was all alone. It was from his own choice that George was alone. But this DreamXD, whoever they were, resonated a strong aura. Filled with old memories. George felt attracted to it. He needed more of this feeling.

"Hello," George had responded politely.

DreamXD introduced himself. Saying he was a God. Saying that he felt George's presence and was curious. George wanted to ask many questions. He didn't need to voice them.

"I couldn't force my true form upon you. Whatever appearance I am taking depends on the viewer."

That was what George couldn't quite grasp. Why did he look like Dream? He decided to leave that question for later. The god asked if George had gambled in his life. Even if it was just a simple game of poker or blackjack, George would've accepted. He was getting lonely in the dark forest all alone. DreamXD was a funny character. Quite chaotic, but somewhat fair. It was just that visit. George didn't quite understand why DreamXD had been curious about a simple guy like him.

After the visit, he started sleeping more. He started to feel unattached to the problems his world was facing. His dreams were more intriguing than wars and politics. He tried to mangle himself with them from time to time. But when his friends departed for different goals, well, he was left all alone. Sapnap came sometimes. Karl occasionally joined him or brought him food by himself. But George felt terribly alone in his little house, not far off from his friends' house. That's when things shifted.

He woke up during his naps, stomach grumbling. And DreamXD would appear at his door and give him food. The god wouldn't talk. George thanked him anyway. It became a routine. He'd woke up and DreamXD would give him food. Then DreamXD would sit down at the bed and hum a tune, soothing George back to sleep. He had strange dreams once the humming was added to the routine. His parents would appear a lot more. Dreams of when he was a little boy. Playing in the fields, helping his parents. Often, he would dream of the good moments he had with his friends. When they first met. When they build a city. When they fought against rebels. The laughter. Often, Dream's face haunted his dreams.

George couldn't control what came in his dreams. Reality and fiction blurred together. One time, he woke up and DreamXD wasn't there. One time, he woke up and saw a figure. That day, he killed his father in his dream and in real life. He hadn't understood how his father found him. That day, he tried to suppress all the grief and shame he felt. The sword was still in his hand, blood staining the bedsheets.

DreamXD had immaterialized beside him, head tilt.

"Your face is white," remarked the god.

George felt his hands shaking. Tremors twitched his fingers and the sword landed on the bed. He was more preoccupied with the bloodied sword than the god literally speaking to him after weeks of silence.