The bridges were working! His grin was infectious, glad that he finally was able to do something here that was effective. He crossed his bridge, moving quickly towards the central platform along with the rest of the Pride. Moving quickly, he didn’t pause to so much as look towards the Dream Eater until he slid to a stop on the central platform.
Trixie appeared next to him. "He's gonna pay. He's gonna pay, Dylan." With her guns extended she scanned her surroundings for any other goops that tried to approach them. "We are gonna whip this guy all the way back to Los Paraisos! You don't mess with the Pride!"
“No, you don’t!” He pulled his slate to the ready, eyes on the rest of the Pride as the moved in, Estelle coming to stand guard between the group and the Lion. Was this the famous Largo? The one who the rest of the Pride and much of the world revered? The lies that spewed from his mouth - in the Dream Eater’s voice - threatened to sap at his courage. All Dylan ever heard was the tales, so he was able to shake it with the knowledge that Dream Eater lied. Though this was the monster’s domain, so maybe it did hold absolute power.
Largo swiped at them with his hand, Estelle moving to block it, before it was knocked aside. He turned to see his Big Bro fall to the ground in a streak of light, striking one of his poses. “How?” Dylan gasped, trying to understand what the man did.
“We’re dreaming, bros…” Don said, the words escaping his lips coolly. The ends of his mouth rose, into a calm and confident smile. “We’re all dreaming, bros! It means we can do anything we like! It doesn’t matter what Mr. Ugly there can do… we can do anything we like as well! We just need to believe... let's take back our dreams!”
Dylan stared at Don as he walked on the goop, shooting powerful blasts from his hands. He turned and watched as Estelle transformed, arming her the most beautiful armor he had ever seen. For a moment he simply paused, letting the image burn into his memory, certain that he would try to recreate it in paint later, but surely fail.
Then he turned and grinned. His friends had the right idea.
Nothing is real. Everything is permitted.
He let his slate and chalk clatter to the ground. He didn’t need it anymore. Tilting his head back, he imagined what he wanted to create, picturing it with absolute clarity in his mind. Through the sheer effort of will he moved his hands, the colors flowing from them and creating the construct in front of him. He didn’t need a medium to work through in the land of dreams - he was the medium and the art flowed straight from him into world.
Dylan glanced around as the world transformed around them, moving his hands to create bridges between the many platforms and cogs, bridges that grew past their means and forged a whole new battlefield - one that the Dream Eater didn’t control, one that he did.
Scattered throughout the field were various vantage points, high and protected towers with arrow slits for Lisette, a sound stage to amplify Selan and Lute’s powers. Most importantly, many more of those springs he had created for Estelle, giving the melee fighters an easy boost to reach the Dream Eater.
The Dream Eater had recovered from Don’s first attack, rising over the Pride.
But Dylan didn’t care. The playing field was leveled.