Oh, the Devil in hell, they say he was chained,
And there for a thousand years he remained.
He never complained, no, nor did he roam,
But decided he'd start up a hell of his own.

He'd start up a hell of his own,
Where he could torment the souls of men
Free from the walls of his prison den.

-Hell In Texas

The bullet soared across the street and collided into the brick of the general store just above Dream's head.

The people on the street froze. In any other wild west town, folks would get the message and clear out. Gunshots were a language everyone spoke. Everyone, except the citizens of Dusthollow.

Someone screamed.

And all hell broke loose.

People shrieked and ran like wild rabbits, headed for any sort of shelter and crashing into everyone else doing the same. Dust plumed from their stampeding boots and made everything hazy and blurry. Adrenaline and pure terror hung suspended in the air and zipped through the mob like a bolt of lightning. More gunshots rang out from up the street, making the mob even more frantic and tangled.

Dream sprinted down the street, headed for the train station, his figure quickly lost in the crowd.

Izrail launched himself down the street, Tommy close behind, and jumped into the fray.

Izrail gasped as dust filled his vision and screams his ears. Humans buffeted him on all sides, elbows and feet and shoulders knocking into him and spinning him off balance as he stumbled and grabbed for his power but he couldn't focus and he coughed and coughed on the dirt in his essence and he didn't know which way was up or down and—

What a pathetic way to die.

"IZRAIL!" Someone grabbed Izrail's shoulder and yanked him out of the crowd. Tommy's eyes were wide as he looked Izrail over. "You okay?"

Embarrassed, Izrail shoved Tommy off of him. "I'm fine." He started to brush himself off and quickly gave up. "Where did Dream go?"

"I lost him, but I think he's headed for the station."

They stood at the end of the street, the wild mob behind them. Izrail frantically scanned ahead, searching for the blue light. C'mon, they were so close!

There! Sprinting to the train station, glancing behind him in terror, his blue aura shining like a beacon.

"Got him," Izrail said. He shivered in relief as he dropped his human guise and let his shadows coil around his head. They stroked his burning face and soothed his shaking hands. Power rushed in his chest in a wave and crashed up against his ribcage.

This was now or never. All the power he'd been saving up since arriving in the Overworld was ready to be unleashed.

Izrail summoned his power to his fingertips and golden light pooled in his hands and dripped down his wrists. He smiled as his essence ignited and sparked and the power rushed through him.

He felt like a god again.

Izrail raced after Dream, faster than any human could imagine, his power pushing him along, dark shadows trailing after him. He couldn't help smiling. This is what he missed coming to the Overworld. The fire in his lungs, the way his heart soared and the magic burst out of him, power flying from his fingertips and igniting the whole world.

Dream became reasonably panicked when he saw Izrail speeding towards him. He jumped onto the station platform and lunged for the train—

Izrail barreled into Dream and they tumbled to the ground. Dream rolled and scrambled to his feet and Izrail kicked him back down and reached for his shadows but Dream yanked a knife from his pocket and swiped it at Izrail and he sucked in a breath as the metal stung his essence. Dream bolted across the rails and back up towards Dusthollow but Tommy came flying down the street and Dream whipped back around and Izrail was there, fire climbing up his arms and he stretched out his hand and his shadows shot for Dream's head but Dream darted away and ran and Tommy grabbed his collar and yanked him back. Dream choked and coughed as Tommy swung him around and shoved him into the station wall.

Izrail stood next to Tommy and flicked his wrists. Shadows converged on Dream, coiling around his legs and neck and his stomach and arms until he could no longer move. Breathing heavy, Tommy dropped Dream and stepped back, his clenched fists shaking and sweat dripping down his nose.

Izrail brushed the hair out of his face and finally got a good look at Dream.

This was the man that had been terrorizing the west?

The bandanna covering his mouth and nose had stopped being white a long time ago, stains and dirt now coloring it red and brown. His shirt was shredded and coming undone at the seams, his boots scuffed beyond repair, his hat fraying and sagging. The only thing that stood him apart from any other bum in the west was the aura throbbing from his bag.

"Tommy!" Dream said through a smile. "How have you been?"

Tommy pointed his gun at Dream and cocked it in response. Dream laughed uneasily and focused on Izrail, standing in the dusty street like a black hole, his shadows twisting in the darkening air, power dancing on his fingers.

"And who might you be?" Dream asked, still keeping his tone light and friendly.

"I am Izrail, an Angel of Death." Izrail stepped towards Dream and smirked as Dream flinched. "Death isn't happy with you, Dream. The powers of the afterlife aren't meant for humans."

"Ah. So that's what this is about." Dream wriggled under his bonds. "Look, I'd give you the book, but it's in my bag and you've—" He cut off with a squeak as Tommy pressed the barrel of his gun onto Dream's forehead, straight between his eyes.

"Take the shadows off him, Iz," Tommy said through clenched teeth. "If he tries to run, I'll shoot him."

Izrail flicked his wrist and the shadows around Dream faded away. Moving slowly slowly, his eyes crossed looking at Tommy's gun, Dream slid his bag off his shoulders and tossed it to Izrail. The bag hit the ground and skidded to a stop near Izrail's feet. Pure energy and powder flooded out of it and Izrail shuddered. He crouched down and studied the bag, head cocked. Behind him, Tommy and Dream shouted at each other, but he didn't listen.

Gingerly, Izrail nudged the bag with his toe and the book slid out onto the dusty ground. He turned away as the power pelted him. The blue light throbbed all around the book, its covers made of bark and sewn together with twine. He didn't quite want to touch it but knew he had to to finish the job. But first, he wanted to watch Tommy shoot Dream.

Tommy had Dream backed up against the wall, his gun still up against Dream's head, his face stained with tears. Dream's bandanna hung crookedly, a sneeze away from falling off his face.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you right now," Tommy seethed.

Dream pointed behind Tommy and said, "Because your friend might be needing some help."

BANG

Izrail ducked and covered his head, his ears ringing, the echo of the shot pounding in his head. Another shot rang out and Tommy shouted at someone and—

"'Bout time we found ya, golden eyes."

Quackity.

Izrail jumped to the side and summoned his flames again, blinking away the ringing in his head.

Quackity lunged at Izrail and Izrail swiped at him with his hand engulfed in flames. Quackity yelped and dodged, his broken face contorting into a sneer.

"Yer dead, angel!" he roared.

Another gunshot. Izrail flinched and that gave Quackity enough opening to place a kick into Izrail's gut. Izrail tumbled to the ground and raised his arms just in time to block Quackity's boot. Izrail clenched his fingers into fists and his shadows stabbed out at Quackity like the quills of a porcupine. Izrail rolled to his feet and spotted Dream and Tommy and another man across the rails, fighting in the tall grasses.

Izrail started to run towards them but Quackity shoved Izrail. Izrail fell to the ground again, his chin banging on the road. He twisted around to see Quackity raising something high above his head and Izrail shot more shadows straight for his throat. He didn't wait to see if he hit the mark before scrambling to his feet and chasing after Tommy and Dream.

Dream somehow had a gun and shot at the other man with deadly precision from atop a boulder. The man hid behind a cluster of trees and frantically reloaded his gun. Tommy fired at Dream, forcing Dream to crawl off his rock and head back towards the station.

Remembering why he was out here in the first place, Izrail skidded to a stop and raced back to the wall where Dream had been held captive only seconds ago and—

The book.

It was gone.

Swearing, Izrail whipped around. Sure enough, Dream glowed deep blue.

Quackity's partner and Tommy ran after Dream together, guns firing every which way, Dream somehow avoiding all of them. He changed course and sprinted along the rail line, firing over his shoulder.
Izrail could care less about the nuisance that was Quackity. His only objective was to get that book from Dream. His forearms ignited and he leaped back into battle.

In desperation, Quackity shot at Izrail and Izrail winced as the metal scraped his shoulder. His essence stung but it did little to slow him down.

Suddenly, Izrail was blindsided again by a human tackling him. He groaned in annoyance and kneed his opponent in the gut. The human grunted in pain and rolled off of him. Izrail was surprised to find it was Quackity's partner. Why would he want Izrail dead?

Sick and tired of eating dirt, Izrail once again focused his sights on Dream, still being chased by Tommy.

Izrail took a step forward and hit yet another someone.

"Gahh!" he yelled and blasted his opponent with fire.

"You oughtta know yer death magic doesn't work on me."

Izrail blinked at the man in front of him, stunned. "Technoblade?"

"The one and only." Techno scratched behind his ear and adjusted his hat, gazing at the chaos with half-lidded eyes. "Quite the battle you've got raging out here."

"What're you doing here?"

"I sensed bloodshed and came."

Izrail shoved Techno to the side and continued his hunt after Dream, now significantly further up the tracks. Luckily, Tommy was only a few meters behind him.

Unluckily, Quackity was only a few meters behind Izrail.

"Yer dead!" Quackity shrieked. "That book is mine!"

What an idiot. Izrail couldn't die. He shook his head.

The setting sun bathed the valley in golds and pinks and lit the sky on fire. Izrail burned with the west and soon Dream was within his grasp.

Izrail sent a stream of fire straight for Dream's head. At the same time, Tommy shot and Dream ducked, bullet and blaze flying over him. Dream jumped to the right, hitting the ground and rolling behind a cluster of rocks. Tommy stopped to reload his gun and Izrail vaulted up on top of the rocks and looked down at Dream cowering below and raised his hands—

"IZRAIL!" Tommy screamed.

White dust exploded in Izrail's face.

The power in Izrail's veins and chest short-circuited, stuttering out of existence before sparking back to life and shutting off again. Izrail's entire body convulsed and he tumbled off the rocks, hitting the ground hard.

What was happening, what—

Izrail panicked and wicked fear clawed in his chest and his mind blanked as his power shut off and on and sparks flew out of his mouth and he coughed and coughed as his essence quivered and his vision blurred and was this the end did a human really kill—

It stopped.

Izrail heaved and coughed some more. He was sprawled on his stomach, dust in his nose, gunshots sounding all around him—

He staggered and stood, his shadows spiraling out of control, his vision spinning—

Quackity. Quackity stood in front of Izrail, laughing like the devil himself, his scar twisting and contorting his smile, pure joy lighting his eyes.

More dust hit Izrail's face. He stumbled as his essence spasmed and spiked and stretched and snapped and he writhed on the ground, screaming in agony and he called for his power and none came and none came and his shadows sizzled and burned away and all he could hear was Quackity's laughter and he sunk into the deep dark where not even his power shone—

Everything ceased to exist.


Quackity laughed at the angel squirming in agony on the ground. The white powder coated his hand, the empty bag hung limp in his fingers. He pulled out his gun, leveled it at the angel's head—

"Shoot and I'll kill you."

Quackity spun around. Techno approached him from the railway, eyes burning red, a pickax clutched in his right hand.

Fury lit through Quackity like a wildfire. He kept his gun aimed at the angel, forcing his smug smile to stay on his face.

"You'll kill me anyways," Quackity said. "Might as well make sure this creature is dead before I go."

Technoblade raised his pickax and swung it at Quackity's head.

Quackity yelped and dove away. Techno's ax clanged against the rocks and he charged at Quackity again.

As much as Quackity wanted to kill Techno, he couldn't do it here. Not with only his pistol in the middle of the desert without backup. The blood god had caught him unawares and Quackity knew better than to attack him head-on.

Quackity ran back up to Dusthollow, his boots pounding on the hard ground, Technoblade laughing like a maniac at his heels. "SAM!" Quackity yelled. "Where's my—" He stopped dead in his tracks "—horse."

Sam trotted over to Quackity, Ossium following behind. Draped over the back of Sam's saddle was Dream, dead to the world, his white bandanna splattered with blood. Sam grinned like an idiot, his victory practically shining out of him in rays.

Quackity hurried to Ossium and pulled himself into the saddle. "Sam! Head for Yucca Falls!" Techno was only a few paces away, his pickax held high above his head, still laughing.

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He took one look at Technoblade and snapped his reins, his horse whinnying and racing off into the almost-dark night. Quackity spurred Ossium onward, whooping with joy as he sped past Technoblade.

"Did ya kill the angel?" Sam called.

"Didn't get the chance," Quackity said. "But, he's powerless. He won't be botherin' us anymore." Quackity couldn't force the smile off of his face. He'd done it.

He'd defeated a god.

With the angel out of the way, nothing stopped him from gaining complete control over the west. Once Dream woke up and gave Quackity the necromancy book, well….

Everything would be his.