Quackity stumbles backward, the sound of Dream's axe cracking as it struck the obsidian floor. He trips on the rumbling floor, momentum carrying into the wall behind him. He turns and scrambles to his knees, his face contorted in fury and terror, his chest freezing in cold panic and all his limbs burning with wrath. Dream rips the glowing battle-axe from the floor and drags it behind him, his shadow falling upon the disheveled man pressed against the wall.
"You're nothing, Dream," Quackity spits. There's a little shake in his voice that makes Dream tilt his head inquisitively. "You'll never amount to anything. You'll leave behind nothing, and nobody will pass on your memory."
"Echoing your own fears, are we, now?" Dream pulls his axe back. Quackity violently flinches backwards as the hooks of the weapon split the black wall and trap his throat in the curve of the bloodied blade. His heart beats like a drum against his frigid ribcage.
Dream studies him like an animal. He leans to view his head from a different angle and tilts his chin up with the axe. The silence wears on, screaming in Quackity's head like a sickening corvid choir calling for his execution.
"Oh, Quackity. I'm God," Dream breathes, voice oozing with a twisted, giddy anticipation. He pushes Quackity's throat further into the wall with his axe, cracks in the wall crawling further up. "Finally, me in control?" He laughs and grabs his head, as if in disbelief.
"You're a sickening monster," Quackity's whispers, his plan to put more conviction into his condemnation failing.
"I'm nothing like you, Quackity. I have real power. I am the name that sends shivers down everyone's spines. That's me! I am God. And unlike you, Big Q?"
Dream leans forward to Quackity's eye level, pushing the axe so far into the wall Quackity could feel the blade pushing into his adam's apple.
"I can bring the devil to his knees."
