Compared to the close-quarters fight in the last dream area, this was a whole different level — attacks landed from a distance now. The clash of energy, the intensity of the fight — everything had been cranked up several notches.
To win, Barry would have to become his "inner Barry."
But could he?
No way.
So just go die, all of you—cute little snacks. Turn into a fragrant roast; Uncle Freddy will bite you up one by one and enjoy this feast.
Sizzle!
A blue light flashed — a thin luminous curtain that blocked Freddy's pillar of flame.
"No way! Impossible!" Freddy screamed in surprise. He didn't understand. "The part of me inside you was neutralized by the Fantasy Killer. You shouldn't be able to use dream powers anymore."
Barry: "Absolutely I can. Easily."
"Just the opposite, you idiot. What you think you're doing is exactly what I made you think," Freddy sneered. But Barry gave a small touch, and that ugly face of his sank back into his body, no longer able to cause trouble.
"Now, meet your end." Barry glowed blue, light radiating out from the stone platform beneath him. Layer after layer of blue ripples pushed outward, turning the sea of fire into a stretch of blue.
A blue as clear as a lake.
"No—! This is my domain. I'm the ruler of the dream. This whole area is already soaked in my power! Even if you're a little clever, how could you possibly beat me?" Freddy insisted, certain brute force would win.
Right now he towered some fifty meters tall — even Ultraman would have to take a swing. He launched an all-out attack: a claw the size of a building came crashing down, wrapped in molten lava, aiming to crush Barry in one blow.
"Shh. Do you hear that? A tide is coming," Barry whispered.
Then the blue lake rose, expanding outward at breakneck speed.
It swallowed the inferno.
No — it didn't just cover it. It assimilated it, turning everything into a blue ocean.
Waves rolled, a tide surged.
An ethereal, deep song drifted through the air.
Freddy's claw was almost upon them — less than half a meter — about to slam down.
Then it happened.
A giant black-and-white orca burst from the water, ramming the claw head-on. With brutal force and absolute power, it smashed the attack apart.
Boom!
The deafening crash from the clash shook like thunder.
Freddy's huge body, suddenly flimsy as paper, was knocked off balance and staggered, nearly falling into his own sea of flames.
But in a moment, the blue sea would be everywhere.
"Wow! What an unbelievable turn of events," someone breathed. The cool blue water brought a rising tide of hope — like a blue dream that could keep them alive.
"My power, my world-shocking power, how could it… weaken? Barry, what have you done?" Freddy raged impotently.
"The answer is simple. Can't you see? This dream is taking on my color. You old fool — do you honestly think your barren little mind could have outwitted me?" Barry shot back.
"No way. How could you learn to use dream powers so quickly? I don't believe it. You can't do that!" Freddy cried.
"You're stubborn and still too dumb to admit it. You taught me everything I needed — are you still making mistakes?" Barry replied.
"You're full of it… I don't believe you!" Freddy thought of the part of himself he'd abandoned — the tool he used to counter Barry's fantasy alterations — and how it had somehow become fuel to make Barry stronger.
There's no way Barry could've absorbed and refined that much in such a short time! His calculations cannot be wrong!
Yet the dream's permissions were being snatched away so fast from Freddy that it was a clear warning: Barry had learned the trick, and just as well as Freddy himself.
This wasn't a gap in skill; it was an energy problem.
"You used what? How are you countering me like this?" Freddy realized, his eyes locking on Barry in confusion.
But Barry didn't hide it — he said it outright: "Love. I added love into it."
Freddy: "What—!"
"The power of love is limitless. This reverence, maybe you'll never understand it. You'll never even get the chance."
"You're just an evil man who feeds on hurting others, a filthy rat who preys on helpless kids. You live off fear; you'll never understand the greatness of faith."
"You, standing on the opposite side of Elm Street, are full of hate and scorn. How the hell do you expect to beat someone backed by the whole town?" Barry said.
"Your defeat was inevitable. My victory has people's hearts behind it."
The whales born of faith circled Barry, giving out deep, otherworldly whale song — the prayers of those who loved him and the source that powered his strength.
"You mutt! Feel my rage!" Freddy snarled.
Barry's face hardened. Standing on an enormous orca, he radiated overwhelming momentum and charged toward Freddy's twisted features.
"What love, what love? I don't get any of this. Just you wait," Freddy panicked, fear and the urge to flee flooding his mind. He considered retreating to fight another day — a strategic withdrawal.
But when he tried to slink away, his smile froze. He found he couldn't run — now locked in.
How did this happen? When did this lock engage?
As Barry closed in at top speed, a mocking smile curled on his lips. "Freddy, I knew you'd try to run. With your strength, the fastest you could break the lock is one minute."
"So you've only got one minute left to live."
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