A Cruel Reality - mayllium (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

1

2

3

4

Wilbur’s voice cut through the thick blanket of tension that covered their world. His words were commanding and neutral, but everyone could hear him waver.

5

6

7

8

9

The president’s hand - which was once pointed towards the sky - came slashing downwards like a sword.

“10 paces fire.”

Two arrows whizzed through the air, blurs as the sharpened stones cut matching arches across the distance. The green archer, however, was far more experienced in combat than the fiery red. In one fourth of a second, Dream’s aim proved painfully true.

And all Tommy could see was black.

He woke up in a cold sweat. His vision blurred at the edges as panic overtook his body. The ringing in his ears was deafening.

Morning came soon enough, reminding him of the mandatory meeting with his counselor. It was the usual routine that he dreaded a little less than he’d willingly admit. (His counselor was nice sometimes and would let him ramble, it was a small victory but a win nonetheless.)

He sat slouched on the same freezing metal chair in the same boring white office. His ears grated from the robotic hum of the cold air conditioning, and Tommy met the gaze of equally cold and calculating eyes. He gave a glare yet there came no reaction, there never was. He huffed out an annoyed sigh, maybe even a disappointed one, and just decided to get things over with.

As per usual, he talked, rambled, and ranted; it was routine. Talking was something Tommy was confident he could do, and the strict confines of this small room allowed him to be as passionate as he wanted when describing whatever new dream world he'd just woken up from.

Narrating with great fervor, he told his story -their story -of the Dream SMP and L’manberg. He made sure to exclude how he died there though, he never liked abrupt endings. (Plus the wound was still fresh.) He did, however, recall the most exciting bits of the story. AKA the Disc War and the L’manberg Revolution, most importantly he talked about the SMP people. Oh, the people.

“Y’know, that boy was there again”

“Tubbo?”

“Yeah, him.” He murmured, eyes falling from his counselor’s face to the black inked pen they discarded on the desk. Tommy thought back on his previous worlds. Memories flicked through his head like a slideshow with distant images from SMP Earth. Of Tubbo, of them both over a fatal volcano. Even earlier than that, it was them over the ever daunting void of Hypixel. “Why do you think he keeps showing up?”

Now, Tommy has never been scared of his counselor before. They never showed anything other than apathy and tiredness. But the sharp look they gave after that question...the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. And Tommy blamed the air conditioning for his sudden shiver.

“Studies suggest,” his counselor stated, voice still level and even a bit stronger, "That humans value and seek companionship. Your subconscious simply must have created a friend for your adventures." It almost even sounded like a threat. A warning. The counselor’s eyes stayed an unwavering grey as they watched Tommy's shoulder drop.

“Maybe..” Tommy was unsatisfied with the answer, even if it was true. Barely even thinking it through, he voiced a certain question that has recently been eating away at his mind. “What if he was real?”

“Pardon?” His counselor almost spat the polite word, Tommy was terrified.

“What if Tubbo was real?” He said a bit more apprehensively, a bit more fearfully.

“Tommy,” they sighed, deep rooted anger lacing their voice. His counselor lifted their left hand up to their face, removing their black framed glasses. Tommy always thought his counselor seemed constantly tired, and the absence of their lenses only revealed purple eye bags deeper and darker than his own. “You know as well as I do that your dreams are just that, dreams.”

And maybe Tommy’s heart shattered a bit more.

”No matter how much you think your dream is real, it is not and never will be.”

“But-“

“End of discussion,” there was no room for argument in their voice. “Your next dream will start on Monday, enjoy your time until then."

Tommy moved to leave the office, standing up and basically heaving his heavy legs that moved awkwardly across the floor. Each step felt wrong and dangerous, as if any minute now the floor would collapse from under him. His arms swung uselessly at his sides, eventually lifting to hug himself for comfort. He took one last tearful look at his counselor before silently slipping out and carefully closing the thick door. The blonde slowly walked down the narrow hallway, careful not to make a sound with his steps. He took an instinctual left turn, recognizing where this hall ended and another hallway began. He took exactly two rights and one left before finally reaching the room he knew all too well. Not his assigned room, or the cafeteria, but the lobby. A place he knew others steered clear of, which was evident by the emptiness of the large space.

The lobby had windows that stretched wide across the wall and to the ceiling, the only windows in the entire facility. Windows that were so painfully clear. And as he gazed outside at the vast and barren wasteland of their world, he felt tears well up inside him that threatened to spill out.

Because even if it wasn't real,f*ck,he really wished it was.

Chapter 2: Hell on Earth

Chapter Text

Tommy was born into a world where everyone lived through their dreams. The outside reeked of death and stretched out into scorched lands where no one (at least nothing human) could survive. Hopeless and desperate, civilization turned to dreams to fill their last years of life. People began sleeping every second of every waking day, and eventually, dreams were prolonged through modern science to last for weeks, months, and sometimes went on for years.

When sleeping, the body acted as it would during a coma, and the person would only regain consciousness if they “died.” Waking up to their cruel reality was like a slap to the face to many. This world was hell compared to the neverland of dreams.

Tommy strolled around the maze that was this facility. He knows it used to be a hospital, long, long ago. It used to be a place of healing and miracles, where life was born and held by loving mothers who had nothing to fear except an early death. It used to be filled with lively people who wanted to live, people who wanted to get better and go home to their families.But that was before the scientists at NASA announced that the sun was expanding, and it was happening more quickly than they expected.

That was before the world watched on broadcast as mercury was swallowed whole by the star.

Before society went into a frenzy as alarms blared through the sirens, and the streeted were filled with red panic.

This place was a hospital before all this, it‘s a hard to believe today, but it was. He wonders if it all just went to sh*t as soon as they announced that Venus would be the next to burn, and inevitably, Earth.

Tommy wonders how many people died when this hospital was abandoned, or maybe the nurses and doctors tried to help others until the very end. After all, what was the point of it?

Everyone alive right now knew, everyonealive hundreds of years ago had known too; there was nothing they could do. They had no power over this, so save-all solution that would work well enough. They could only sit patiently and wait, could only watch as their planet would become, quite literally, hell on Earth.

He was never a history expert, but the classes he had on humanity’s tragedy left an impact on his soul. He was 10 years old at the time, he’s 16 now. The story was horrifying to him as a kid, it still frightened him even today.

If you never saw the outside, you wouldn't think anything was wrong.

The facility was well kept and well cleaned as spotless white walls lined polished floors and bright lights filled every shadow. The people inside were as oblivious as they wished to be and as full of life as they wanted. Of course, those same people were the ones that slept every second of the day and would beg to sleep again as soon as they woke up. You could say that people here weren't very....mentally okay. There was a reason why guards stood outside certain rooms.

(Tommy would often hear muffled screams and sobbing through the thin layers of the building as others would plead to sleep early. Eventually, the noise would die down, and he would stare at the wall for hours feeling nothing but pity for the person on the other side.)

The facility was well kept and well cleaned, but frustratingly dull. Every wall was blank, every ceiling tall, the doors barely made a sound, and the people were quieter than mice. There was a time when Tommy was young and foolish, and would relentlessly search the building for something others were too up their own arse to look for. He stared at the ceilings at night trying to find a single crack, studied the floors underneath his socks for a misplaced or crooked tile. He searched and searched for hours, racing through the halls, breathing raggedly - trying to find one thing, just one flaw. After about a week, he gave up.

He gave up, but he didn’t break.

What scared Tommy the most about the desperation of his peers wasn't their frantic eyes or unstable mental states. No, he wasn’t terrified of that.

Tommy was scared sh*tless because he understood.

He understood why he barely saw his “friends” anymore, why his counselor didn’t flat out call him crazy over his mention of Tubbo. He understood why his mother looked out through the lobby windows with dead eyes and a resentful smile.

He had witnessed the horrors of his world and grew up with the crushing truth that everyone knew, yet he refused to break like the rest of them.

Tommy refused to break.

Chapter 3: Kitchens can be Happy Places

Chapter Text

The weekend went by in a blur. He spent most of it either doing nothing or in the cafeteria talking with the lunch ladies. Since his friends were busy sleeping, most of the time he sat at the back table in the kitchen and annoyed the staff. Okay, maybe he was being a tad dramatic before about this place being entirely bad, there were some good things too. Specifically, the lunch staff, aka his last hope for this place. The lunch staff was a group of young volunteers who didn't mind life without dreaming. This, of course, was almost unheard of in this day and age, so some could say they were looked down upon despite single-handedly feeding the entire facility. It was such BS, that they were mistreated for choosing a different life. Each and every one of them were nice, and some of them even gave him cookies to snack on whenever they talked to pass the time.

Sometimes they would even invite him into the hectic kitchen and teach him how to cook.

The first time he tried cooking a chicken dish, the meat turned out burnt and inedible. But he was too prideful and decided to eat it despite the unappetizing black. Immediate regret had filled him, and he lunged for the nearest trash can. In the minutes following such a humiliating moment, he made a joke about "at least it's not salmonella" and the top chef burst out laughing. His ears had rung with their hearty laughs and cheers, and he was unsurprised to hear his own laughter chiming along. The memory held warmth to him on the coldest days.

This is why in the last few hours before his next dream, Tommy spent it talking with one of the lunch ladies, Sylvee.

“I just can’t help but think that maybe Tubbo is real, that they all are.” He didn't know how the conversation took such a turn or how they got to the point of him confessing his deepest thoughts but hey, at least he wasn't trauma dumping (yet). Tommy's head lowered down where his chin hit his neck as uncertainty swam around in his head.

Sylvee took off her apron and shouted a quick “Taking a break!” to the rest of the kitchen. She sat next to Tommy on the bench and offered a final chocolate chip cookie with a kind smile. He took the treat gently and nibbled on it as she responded. “I think he’s real too.”

“Really?” Tommy gaped, causing the other to chuckle.

“There is a chance he could be,” she said, pausing to glance around to catch anyone who may be listening. Sylvee leaned closer to Tommy's ear and whispered, “I met someone from my dreams once.”

“You did?!” Tommy shouted before realizing how loud that was and sheepishly waved away the looks they were getting. He pretended not to hear Sylvee’s lighthearted sigh.

“Yes Tommy, I did”

“Who?” He asked in another hushed whisper. He couldn’t stop his gasp when she gestured behind her towards Krinios, who caught Tommy’s stare and winked with a knowing smirk.

“Stop staring you child,” she giggled, and Tommy broke through his shock and laughed, saying something along the lines of “I’m not a child!”.

Tommy was eternally grateful to the lunch staff. They had become the home he never knew, they taught him how to be strong.

They refused to break, too.

Tommy left the cafeteria smiling. After finding out, he spent the last hour excitedly questioning Syvlee about it. She answered with faked annoyance and fond stories, things he came to know were just part of her character. Still, Tommy was happy. Because for the first time in a long while, he had hope. He had hope that Tubbo, and maybe everyone else he’s met in his dreams, could be real. And holy f*cking sh*t, Tommy could actually meet his best friend.

Chapter 4: MCC....?

Chapter Text

He was back in his room again. The happiness from earlier had worn off the moment he opened the door. When he arrived, one of the nurses had been waiting inside for him with a syringe. To put it bluntly, Tommy hated every staff member that wasn't his counselor or the kitchen staff. Those were the only exceptions because the rest of the facility staff didn't even look like people half the time. The nurse stood there in perfectly cleaned white clothes, not out of the ordinary for her job. The thing he despised, however, was the white gas mask that curved around her head and completely blocked her face. It was a model identical to the gas masks every doctor, guard, and teacher wore. It was what made them non-human in Tommy's mind, even if he knew it was wrong of him.

Slowly walking over to his bed, he spared a glance at the metal cart and gulped at the needle. If there was one thing Tommy hated about dreams, it was the process that happened before them.

Dreams weren’t entirely natural, the state of mind was, but the prolonged ones were a result of modern science. The drug was a silvery blue liquid, thin as water and cold as ice. Usually stored in small vials shorter than a pinky finger.

(A few scientists developed it at the start of the panic when the government still had some semblance of control and people were in the denial stage of loss. The invention, like any other non-legal drug, advertised an escape. As anyone would have expected, it was highly in-demand with such little supply that people held riots outside the laboratory.Fast forward a few million years later, where most of the Earth’s surface was burning and devoid of any life. That reality was Tommy’s current timeline. )

He resided in one of the sanctuaries that were scattered across the 7 continents. It was located in what used to be the UK, though he knew other facilities were out there that they could never get in contact with. He wondered if Tubbo was in the same circ*mstances that he was in. That was, if Tubbo really wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

Sylvee had told Tommy that she first met Krinios in a place called SMP Earth. Hearing those words, Tommy had fallen still in shock.

“You mean, you were in SMP Earth too?” He barely heard his own voice but Sylvee seemed to catch his dilemma.

“Yes,” she stated, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, slowly realizing what Tommy had whispered. “I was the leader of the Bean Empire.”

And a memory sparked. The Battle of the Pit.

After that, he shared how he remembered Sylvee from his dream before he even met her while awake. They came to the conclusion that dreams could be connected, and that meant the people they met (at least most of them) could be real.He didn't mean to get his hopes up, but no one could blame him.

So when he sat in the middle of his bed, heart pounding in anticipation at both his discovery and the needle inching closer to his skin, he made a decision.

Tommy was going to meet Tubbo, awake.

Tommy opened his eyes only to immediately close them again. Counting to 3, he squinted to avoid being blinded. Why the f*ck is it so colorful?

Before him stood a massive dome with a shining golden crown that rested atop the glass curve well that's excessive and the walls were a vibrant array of colors that seemed to reflect the nature of its surroundings. In the distance, he saw lime against light blue in floating hot air balloons that decorated the sky. Patches of palm trees littered the sandy beach he stood on, and tiki torches ran along the walkways. (Tommy noticed how the main building was sprouting from offshore as if it emerged from the deep waters one day without anyone knowing why.)

The sunlight was warm, not too gentle or harsh. And the soft breeze that hit his face was cooling as he breathed in the open air. He thinks that maybe this could be the most relaxing dream yet, wait-dream?

Tommy was not supposed to know, not supposed to be self-aware because dreaming didn’t work that way. So why did he remember? Normally, you’re dropped off somewhere with no memory or recollection of the real world. Was it a mistake? A faulty injection? There haven’t been reports of lucid dreaming in decades, so what was happening? However, Tommy had no time to answer these questions as he noticed a large crowd gathered around a stage where a man with cyan-colored hair stood in front of a mic.

“Welcome everyone to the 9th annual Minecraft Championships!!” The man announced. He had an accent that was different from Tommy’s, and you could hear the man's smile as he spoke. “As most of you know by now I run the event and welcome new players, so those in the audience who haven’t yet participated in MCC please step up to the stage. I will be explaining the game and sorting you into a team, thank you for your time.”

The crowd dispersed as Tommy cautiously walked toward the stage, mind riddled with confusion and barely contained panic. He would probably be less nervous if he'd encountered this situation with no memories, maybe he would've been enjoying himself. Unfortunately, he held the curse of self-awareness, which made everything ten times more terrifying. Appearing to be the first new person there, Tommy approached the cyan man who introduced himself as “Scott" who held out his hand towards Tommy for a handshake. Tommy froze for a second.

If I’m gonna make this plan work, I need to act like I usually do in dreams, he thought. So with a deep breath, he lifted his chin, and with a smug grin, firmly shook Scott’s hand. He opened his mouth and in a loud, boisterous voice, said:

“Ello, my name is TommyInnit.”

Chapter 5: The Boy Obsessed With Bees

Chapter Text

TommyInnit, that is who he wanted to be.

He wanted to be confident.

He wanted to be loud.

He wanted to be funny.

It was the persona he built through his dreams, a successful businessman, a chaotic friend, a noble vice president.

All the things he couldn't be while awake. Because awake he was unsure, quiet, and most days struggling to smile.

So because he remembered, he enjoyed everything a little more. Yeah, it's a bit mature for how he usually acts, but he's genuinely grateful, sue him. He smiled a little brighter and laughed a little louder, attempting to take in everything and engrain it all into the shelves of his mind. He wants the memory to last longer.

Then his eyes caught green across the plaza, landing on a familiar boy in a misbuttoned shirt.

Tubbo.

The boy had stars in his eyes, gasping at the ginormous building on the beach. He watched Tubbo dart around, a skip in the boy's step as he wandered aimlessly. It reminded Tommy of a kid at a carnival, even if he knew Tubbo was older by a few months.

Tubbo, the boy obsessed with bees. Who was blunt, chaotic, and the only person deemed worthy of being his best friend. It all started with them. It was Tommy and Tubbo against the world, and that would never change.

He watched Scott approach the hyperactive boy with a friendly smile and a handshake, which Tubbo took eagerly. Tommy looked away, content with talking to them later. He had all the time in the world after all, right? He could lie to himself today, if only for a little while. He walked towards one of the daybeds on the shore, claiming it for the night as he sat down and relaxed into the soft fabric and cool shade.

Scott had explained to him that MCC was a competitive event where ten teams of four would play in games for fun. The winners would be crowned and awarded custom gold coins as prizes. Tommy was confused about what “Minecraft” was but assumed it was the world name and went along with it. He wasn’t too surprised by the strangeness of it all. Having concluded a long time ago that things in dreams did not abide by the laws of science.

Certain people called “admins” had special powers, injuries could heal within seconds from a full “hunger bar”, and people could store items in their own little pocket dimension. (He’d seen Tubbo pull out a whole ass f*cking boat from his shirt pocket once like it was nothing, L'manberg was lucky to have him). In conclusion, dreams were weird.

It was like everything was amplified, physical ability certainly was. Here Tommy could run for hours and hours without feeling tired and could fly through the air fearlessly. He could push past his limits because he had none. Here he had power, held the skills to survive, and the knowledge of how to start from the ground up with nothing but himself.

He liked dreams, liked the simplicity of it all. In dreams, people just lived to live. It was something Tommy admired in all of them. He strived to be like them. Even if they weren't real.

Chapter 6: Summon the King

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up before the sun rose, his body well-rested and calm. Not quite ready to start his day yet, he was content to watch the sunrise. The grey world was slowly illuminated by white, the light soft enough not to burn his sleep heavy eyes. He sat comfortably for a few minutes, bundling deeper into the warm blanket that—wait a f*cking minute, what blanket.

Tommy jumped, realizing he was wrapped up in a blanket that wasn't there last night, effectively chasing his sleepiness away.

“What the f*ck…” he murmured, still disoriented from the sudden shock.

Which is why Tommy had an entire f*cking heart attack when something poked his shoulder. Tommy did not shriek. He did not (he did). Heart still racing, he turned around only to find Scott there waving apologetically.

“What the hell man, you scared the piss out of me!”

“Sorry," the cyan man said with a guilty smile. "But team announcements are soon and I need help waking everyone up, you were the only one already awake so..think you could help?"

The first mistake was asking Tommy of all people for help. The boy mischievously grinned from ear to ear, already imagining the things he would do and the shenanigans he could pull. His smile only grew wider when he saw the immediate look of regret dawn on Scott’s face.

Scott’s second mistake was showing Tommy the entrance to the stage. A few minutes later, Tommy was up on stage with no audience. But that would change very soon, he snickered. The blonde messed with the speaker controls recklessly against the useless pleas of the admins trying to stop him. Stepping up to the microphone, he tapped it to test if it was working. It did, in fact, work, letting out a loud piercing screech that almost made Tommy flinch. Oh boy, this is going to be good. He hit the button that started the music, and the speakers boomed so powerfully the ground shook.

And then, he broke out in song.

“GET-TING BORED OF WALLS 2, I SHOULD FIND A NEW MINIGAME, OCT-TO-BER 2013, SAW THE GAME AND I THOUGHT—”

He doubled over in laughter when very grouchy people began to stomp towards him. Giggling into the mic, he pushed himself to continue.

“OH MY GOD, THE f*ck IS THIS”

“I WILL BURN THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND” Sapnap was indeed holding a flint in steel in his hand, and Tommy knew the man's words weren't an exaggeration. He continued anyway.

“SO MANY, OP KITS”

“STOP THE DEMON CHILD" Fvckin Wilbur and his dumb name-calling. Fvck your beauty sleep bitch.

“BUT I GUESS, I’LL PLAY A GAAAAAMEEEEE”

Tommy broke out in a cackle. The angry mob below him was enraged and partially set on fire. He fell to the ground in hysterical laughter, tears in his eyes as the instrumental of the song went on without him and people continued to riot. This was the best sh*t he’d done in a while, even if his stomach hurt and he was laughing so hard he could bust a lung. He calmed down and caught up to the song, resuming his singing.

“—SO THAT WAS BLIITZZZ, IT’S BEEN OVER A YEAAR—“ The song was nearing its end.

He heard shuffling behind him, oh sh*t, but was set on singing (hollering) his heart out until the very last line (or until he was physically unable to).

“—IT’S GETTING QUITE INSANE, I KEEP GET-TING JANI-TOR-ED BUT—THAT’S J U S T T H E G A M E.”

He dropped the mic for extra effect, standing strong as everyone else flinched back from the spike in audio. After tying off the song as loudly as he could, he turned to the menacing figure behind him with an sh*t eating grin.

Technoblade. The Blade. First ranked in potatoes, 1000 bedwars winstreak, King of the Antarctic Empire. A legend in Tommy’s book. Even if they’d never see eye to eye he couldn’t just disregard the other’s reputation. Technoblade was feared, and oh so long ago Tommy had wanted to be just like him.

Technoblade, with his velvet red cape and candy pink braided hair. Technoblade, who wore a golden crown adorned with gems and was an absolute PvP god. He radiated power and held an authority that made people listen. Really, who wouldn’t want to be like him?

“Ello Technoblade,” he greeted the pig hybrid, whose aura emitted murderous vibes but Tommy remained unphased. He strolled towards the pig casually, indifferent to the other's growing rage. Mouth spewing whatever bullsh*t his mind could come up with at the second. “So you a fan of my singing—“

“DOWN WITH THE ORPHANS“

And yeah sure, Technoblade did attempt to murder Tommy the diamond sword was just inches away from his face. And okay maybe the pig had to be held down by 10 people before reluctantly giving up, and no the pig's eyes were not blood red and glaringathimholysh*t—

But Technoblade was still Tommy’s friend even if only Tommy remembered that.

Tommy now had bodyguards, both of which were admins. He had the admins on his side! Being treated like a VIP was cool, even if it was because everyone else kinda wanted to kill him. I was only helping Scott do his job like goddamn no one needs 10 hours of sleep, ugh drama queens. My singing isn't that bad right? he thought. Doing so while watching a man in a neon green hoodie—Dream—sharpen an axe. And no he didn’t gulp when another with clout goggles—George—loaded a very sharp arrow into his crossbow. Yup, Tommy was definitely safe here, absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was fine.

(It was not fine)

He may have made enemies with the entire server but guess what? Three of those enemies would soon be forced onto a team with him, and Tommy had already made it his personal goal to annoy the sh*t out of them. He almost pities his teammates, but why would he be sad when he could be pogging at their pain instead? It was a much better way to think.

It was currently day two of MCC, the event took place over 12 days. On the second day, they announced teams. Days three to ten were reserved for the games, with one played each day. Day eleven was the final match between the top two teams, and the last day was the after-party. 12 days, Tommy had 12 days to figure sh*t out.

He marveled in his special seat. Floating off the ground and above the crowd, much to the displeasure of those scowling at him from below. Everyone gathered around the stage again, this time to hear Scott announce the teams.

“First of all, I apologize to those who were abruptly awoken this morning, but I was the one who asked for Tommy's help, so please don’t hold anything against him.”

Tommy beamed smugly from his seat, arms crossed as if challenging anyone to attack him. People seemed to begrudgingly look away, and Tommy felt like he just earned a win.

“Now, for the team announcements," Scott continued. "The first team is the Pink Parrots with….”

“Lime Llamas will be…” at this point Tommy was only half listening. They had announced 5 teams so far, none of which he was in. Tommy could only watch in amazement as people he knew, people he’s spoken to before, gathered at the front and split off into their groups. Every familiar face and voice made his heart skip a beat, fascination thundering behind the bored expression he wore. “...Tubbo,” wait- Tubbo’s team, would he be in it? Tommy waited with bated breath, hearing heightened as if his ears had zoomed in.”..Dream, Fundy, and—” this was it. “—Sylvee.”

…..Syvlee..?

A strikingly familiar woman walked to the front of the audience, looking scarily alike yet still so different from the one he knew. The Sylvee he talked to in the cafeteria had chestnut brown hair, while this one was blonde. The Sylvee that offered him a cookie had bags under her eyes and the hands of a worker, while this one looked like she didn't even know how to work an oven. This Sylvee couldn’t possibly be the same one he knew, they were too different.....but what would that mean? What would that mean for everyone else he knew? Wrapped up in his internal conflict, he was torn between two sides and didn’t know which to one believe. Both had evidence for and against his theory, but he desperately wanted to believe one of the sides was true.

..So did that mean that Tubbo….?

Tommy’s eyes darted to the boy in green, to bright and doe with a face full of joy. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if...if Tubbo wasn’t real. In that way, he was like everyone else at the facility. Desperately clinging to something that may not even exist, oh what a hypocrite he was.

Chapter 7: Goodbye to a World

Chapter Text

SMP Earth, weirdly enough, was a dream based on the Earth’s past. Places he only read about in history books actually existed there, in their dream version of Earth. The map looked the same, continents and oceans covering the surface and stretched on as far as the eye could see. The only thing missing was civilization, but people soon began to fix that. They started cities, countries, empires. Took over continents and constructed palaces. Each leader began their nation from the ground up, and each was prepared to fight wars over it. There were treaties and alliances, friends and families. People weren’t serious enemies with each other, everyone was just there to have fun.

Even back then, Tommy was eager to ignite chaos and start wars. Establishing Business Bay with a few friends, he would fly around stealing from multiple people. Setting out to make his way up in the world.

There, Tommy first met Wilbur.

Wilbur was a strange fellow, living in a quaint little house on the outskirts of the forest in his new nation, “Newfoundland.” Though Wilbur pronounced it as “Newfundland”, and Tommy just assumed the man didn’t know how to read. He questioned the zombies in the basem*nt and lent some dirt when Wilbur blew up his own land. Hopping back into his plane, he took off again. This time traveling to Antarctica thinking he could steal from Technoblade. Which wasn’t...his best idea to be honest. He angered the infamous pig king and was soon ruthlessly chased out of the glacier and forced to retreat back home.

These kinds of shenanigans went on for months. It was Tommy's life.

Every day, he would wake up, hang out with a few friends, expand his faction, and try out another money-making scheme. He began scamming, starting with a rabbit's foot for a bunch of emeralds and skyrocketing his career as a businessman. Then one day, a hit was ordered on Philza for Tommy to carry out. He only knew the man to be the second in command of the Antarctic Empire, equally as fearsome as Technoblade as they were both rumored to be unkillable. Tommy geared up, paid Techno 20k for good measure, and ambushed them on their Boomer Bridge. It didn't go exactly to plan, and somehow he ended up angering both the entirety of the Empire, plus Wilbur and Charlie from his own Cumin Squad group. After the fresh betrayal, they rushed him at his base and Tommy had no allies to back him up.

It seemed he made a lot of enemies. Tommy didn't know how or why, he just had a knack for pissing people off and wore it proudly like a flag. He lived a life of adventure, partaking in many wars. He started the Battle of the Pit, fought God (admins were technically gods right?) and challenged the almighty Technoblade once again. It went on like that, and he spent his days making the most out of his time there. It was fun, and he was happy.

One day he was flying around and caught a glimpse of a...missile (??) from below, looking like it was headed towards his base. Next to it, he saw a curious mop of brown hair.

It was a boy in a misbuttoned green shirt, he was working on a strange redstone contraption. He seemed to have heard Tommy arrive, ears perking up and brown eyes darting around. The brunette looked up, gaze catching Tommy’s plane, and waved with a smile. Tommy landed and moved to talk.

“Why have you built a missile looking thing headed to my base?” he demanded. The boy chuckled and responded.

“This isn’t a missile.”

“What is it then? Because you got some serious explaining to do.”

“Have you never seen an airship before?”

“No,” he deadpanned. The boy only giggled. It was their first time meeting, and the mysterious boy sparked Tommy's interest.

“What’s your name?”

“Tubbo.”

“...Aren’t you going to ask mine?”

“Ehhh I don’t really want to know.”

“How dare you not want to know me!! I am TommyInnit! Tommy Trusty!”

“Well then Tommy, I’m Tubbo, and I’m not gonna tell you what this redstone thing is.” Tubbo grinned and pushed Tommy off the high platform.

Tommy fell through the tree branches and landed below, not really injured because of the armor he was wearing. Above Tubbo was laughing, barely hearing Tommy’s angry yells of “You’ve messed up, you’ve just messed the hell up!!!” He began building back up to the platform. Missing to see Tubbo hop into a plane, and was confused when he couldn’t find the boy.

“Tubbo, come speak to me on this platform and we can talk about this okay.” He called out, still not knowing where the other was. He heard panicked laughter from above, “Where are you Tubbo?”

“Look up, I’m completely stuck!!” and saw Tubbo somehow stuck midair and belted out in laughter. Tubbo was in disbelief and struggling to leave his plane. Eventually, he did but fell to the ground with a curse. Tommy could only sit back and laugh.

Tubbo left Tommy with an ominous threat to Business Bay, but Tommy shrugged it off as he did with every threat on his life. (He had a lot of “enemies” at this point, it didn’t affect him much anymore)

He saw Tubbo a few more times after that. Invited him over to Business Bay one day and the two just messed around. It ended with Tommy stealing Tubbo’s armor and giving it away to a woman that he now knows was Sylvee. A few weeks later, he had heard that Tubbo started a hitman business and decided to check it out for himself.

“Hi, Tubbo.” The sun was currently setting, and the outside of the building was drowning in shadows.

“Hi! Welcome to my hitman shop,” Tubbo greeted him with a laugh.

“You’re a very upbeat hitman if I do say so myself,”

“Yeah! I am so excited to kill, man, WOO”

“O..kay“ Tommy let out a nervous chuckle, but he knew Tubbo was just joking. It was all for fun after all.

“Alright okay, follow me this way,” Tubbo began to walk inside. “Come into my office.”

The small office was homey, with many large windows that showcased how dark it was outside. Tubbo sat behind a wooden desk, bhookshelves behind him. Tommy sat in the client chair across from him and made his request for a hit.

“I will pay you 192 diamonds,” Tommy offered.

“192 diamonds?!?!?” The boy exclaimed, voice cracking and mouth agape, clearly shocked at how high the price was. He then closed his mouth and cleared his throat, recovering from the outburst. “I guess,” he responded cooly, “but I want half first and half after.”

“Deal.” And Tommy handed him the diamonds.

They took off to do the hit and things...didn’t go very well. Tubbo managed to fail and they were forced to flee, then tried negotiating with the enemy. No one noticed that during the chaos, Tubbo slipped away and flew off.

“Wait, so you don’t have the diamonds?” Tommy asked. He’d been very confused for the past few minutes. Tubbo said that he somehow lost the diamonds and that the other side must have it. But Tommy had been asking the bodyguard—Calvin—non-stop and the man kept saying he didn't have them. Tommy was starting to think that they actually didn’t have the diamonds, so then…..Tommy gasped, Tubbo?

He opened his GPS and saw Tubbo’s icon flying away. Then it dawned on him, the only thing in that direction was a volcano, oh no. He quickly hopped on his own plane, lending Calvin a ride too.

“He’s gonna burn the diamonds!!” Tommy shouted. Calvin nodded and went to sit in the passenger seat.

They arrived at the volcano, spotting Tubbo from across the lava with the diamonds in hand.

“Hey guys, hey” The boy grinned. “Now I don’t wanna do anything drastic here Tommy,” he was sitting on the branches of a tree, just hovering above the dangerous burning liquid.

“We can talk about this, the diamonds don’t need to get hurt Tubbo,” he responded, knowing they were just playing around, Tubbo wouldn’t actually jump into the lava, he was even sure that the boy was enjoying having the upper hand for once.

“I have the power now Tommy, don’t do anything drastic, I will jump.”

“Let me do the talking," he gestured towards Calvin, who shrugged and backed away.

“Armor and swords off, right now, both of you” Tubbo demanded.

Tommy hesitated, and Tubbo snickered as he dropped a few diamonds into the lava.

“How does a couple diamonds gone feel?”

They then threatened to blow up Tubbo’s island with TNT, pressuring the boy over the lava even more.

“Tommy, don’t do anything you’re gonna regret here buddy,” Tubbo laughed nervously, he took a step backward, expecting there to be ground behind him.

But there wasn’t.

And Tubbo fell.

And Tommy watched him fall.

Tommy saw the panic on Tubbo’s face as the boy's body began to drop backward.

And Tommy reached after him.

Tommy leaped off the tree he was standing on, too caught up in his friend’s life to register the lava below.

And Tommy tried to save him.

Tommy caught the fear in Tubbo eyes as they widened in shock and realization, the horrifying realization that you're about to die. It played in slow motion, as the lava hit his back, and Tubbo was gone.

“NOO O O”

And Tommy fell too.

Chapter 8: They Were(Are) His Family

Chapter Text

Tommy remembered it all so vividly. How he woke up in a panicked haze, gasping for breath as the feeling of ghost pains burned his skin. Of course, Tommy knew that realistically, he wasn’t actually going to die. But every time he dreamt he didn’t know that! It always felt so real to him. The boy continued to breathe in and out, it felt like hours had gone by before he eventually calmed down. He registered the beeping of his heart monitor coming to a slow and moved to rub his eyes for a better look at his room. But when his hand reached his face they were met with tears. Why was he crying? His vision blurred as his eyes continued to flood, but he didn’t move to dry them.

That night he mourned the loss of a world long gone.

(A picture appeared in his mind of him with the brightest smile. He didn’t even know he could smile that wide. Tommy was in his signature red and white tee. Behind him, a pig-hybrid was dressed in a cape and crown, his expression blank, but Tommy knew that was the man’s happy face. Next to him was a shorter figure in a green and white striped hat, lavender wings sat on his back, lifting him into the air. And laying on the ground, eyes closed with a content smile, was an admin in a yellow sweater and red beanie.)

Tommy walked up to the front of the stage feeling a little dejected. And if Scott noticed the twinge of sadness in his smile then he didn’t mention it.

“Hello Tommy! Are you excited for your first MCC?”

“As excited as I can be.” He replied sheepishly, a slight quiver in his voice. He heard footsteps approach and took in a deep breath.

“Oh great! I’m teamed with the gremlin child,” a deep yet upbeat voice said from behind him. Tommy’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his composure. He rolled his eyes and turned around. There stood Wilbur, in all his narcissistic glory. He was dressed in the usual yellow sweater and red beanie, his treasured guitar strapped to his back.

“Says the senile b!tch with a guitar,” he fired back.

“I’m going to punch you.” And Wilbur probably would’ve been much more intimidating if Tommy wasn’t almost the same height as him.

"You can’t punch a child Wilbur cause I’m a child.”

“I’m gonna beat the sh*tout of you.”

“That sounds a little much.”

“O-kay break it up you two,” And between them was Phil, and Tommy’s heart skipped another beat. Phil's figure was drowning in the black and green robes that draped from his arms and reached the floor. A pair of lavender wings sat comfortably at his back.

“I agree, I think we should all calm down,” Scott stepped in. “How about we start with introductions? I’m Scott.”

“Wilbur Soot,” he flashed a grin, demeanor switching from annoyed to charming in seconds.

“Philza," when spoken out of the man's mouth, even a single word could sound kind.

“And I’m Tommy, though I’m sure everyone already knows that.”

“Unfortunately,”

"Hey!” Tommy protested.

Scott hunched over with an exasperated sigh, “Tommy why do you do this to yourself.”

“I just like making people upset, is that too much to ask?”

“Yes! Yes it is,”

“Well fine then, just for that, I’m going to try really hard to win this.” And he wasn’t lying, he did want to win. It just wasn’t the most important thing on his mind right now.

“I don’t believe you,” Wilbur said, glaring and clicking his tongue. “I think I’m gonna have to give you some motivation.”

“Like what? I’m not afraid of you bitch.” And it’s true, Tommy wasn’t afraid of Wilbur. He didn't think Wilbur was capable of hurting him. He'd mess around and joke about it sure, but never actually harm him.

After that....ominous ending, the group decided to meet again later in the afternoon to train. Philza said he could convince Wilbur to come, so they just went their separate ways, and Tommy now had a few hours to himself.

What could he even do? Most people here probably didn’t like him, and contrary to popular belief, Tommy wasn’t one for large social situations. Maybe if he didn’t remember, then he would have no problem walking up to someone with some sh*tty jokes and a goal to make friends. But now he was hyper-aware, and it was terrifying.

It seemed like his real body reflexes transferred over into his dream, which, was really unfortunate.

Because Tommy would jump at the slightest of sounds. Would flinch at the lightest of touches and squint at the dimmest of lights. It came from the constant state of consciousness he trained into his being,eventually becoming built into his body. Though usually it served its purpose when he was awake and wanted to find new experiences, it was really beginning to backfire on him here. His instincts were inconvenient and frustrated him to no end, but he couldn't stop. But why was it happening now? Nothing really groundbreaking happened...right?

Wilbur, Phil, and Techno don’t remember you. Your family doesn’t know who you are. It echoed through his mind and wouldn’t go away.

He gulped and hurriedly walked over to the nearest chair, shaking and breathing quicker than usual. He knew what was coming and wished it would be a quick. He put into motion the things he practiced in order to calm down, counting to 100 in his head as he took deep breaths, focusing on the feeling of cloth as his hands grabbed at his shirt. Waiting for it to pass, he let himself forget about everything else. Thankfully it wasn't a bad one this time, and the episode was over within a few minutes. Once Tommy was able to think clearly again, he glanced around, hoping that no one noticed hisbreakdown. Thankfully, there was no soul in sight, and he let out a small sigh of relief. He sank into the chair and closed his eyes to rest for just a few seconds.

He didn’t notice the shadow that slipped around the corner.

Tommy had no idea what he was doing. About 10 minutes ago, he met up with Scott and entered a walled-in arena. A rocket launcher was shoved into his hands and a weird split cape was tied to his back. Apparently they were practicing for “Rocket Spleef”, and seconds after learning the game he came to the conclusion that it was definitely illegal and absolutely not safe for kids. Yet everyone jumped onto the bouncy floor at the first sound of the bell like the maniacs they were, shooting fireworks below them and riding the blast to jump up higher. People soared through the air and reached the tops of colorful pillars. Somehow the fireworks didn’t leave any scratches, as if the players were entirely immune to them, and everyone was just bouncing around like madmen.

“Tommy, aren’t you gonna join us?” Scott questioned the boy’s hesitance. Tommy’s stance was stiff, gripping the rocket launcher in his hand so hard his knuckles went white. The color was drained out of his face, leaving him pale.

Wilbur seemed to notice the blonde's lack of energy, and instead of suggesting him to rest, grabbed Tommy by the arm and shot a rocket under them. The two flung up into the sky, Tommy letting out a panicked scream as his arms flailed around, eventually finding purchase on Wilbur’s clothes.

The scared boy closed his eyes and clutched onto Wilbur, expecting the man to let go.

What he didn’t expect, however, was to remain in the air. He slowly opened up one eye to see that they were soaring above the arena. The people soon turned into ants on the beach below them, and they were gliding through the clouds as Wilbur directed his wings to move towards the shore. Soon they were right above the ocean. Any lower, and Tommy would be able to part the waters. The sight of the glistening sea and sunset was beautiful. They were moving across the horizon, and Tommy felt like he was flying.

“How do you like the view?” He heard a euphoric laugh from above him. Tommy looked up at Wilbur, who was smiling with eyes squinted as wind traveled through his fluffy brown hair, the red beanie somehow still snugly sat on his head. Wilbur looked happy, and Tommy preferred this happy Wilbur over the stern president Wilbur he last knew. At this moment, with them both feeling like they were suspended in the bright sky, Tommy forgot that Wilbur, without fail, took any and every opportunity to bully him.

And so they both plummeted into the ocean.

Tommy dragged his heavy, water-soaked body onto the shore. Gasping for breath and coughing out the liquid in his lungs. Right next to him was Wilbur in a similar state, an annoyingly smug smile on his face.

“What the f*ck!” Tommy glared at the man who was now laughing hysterically on the sand.

"That’ll teach you,” he chuckled. Slowly standing up, dusting off the sand and wringing his red beanie of dripping water.

“dickhe*d,”

“Gremlin,”

“You will feel my wrath,” Tommy threatened, though it seemed to not affect the elder as Wilbur walked off laughing. Tommy shouted curses at the shrinking figure, his voice echoed throughout the plaza.

Tommy was very upset. He was soaked and freezing as the winds blew against his shivering figure. Where the f*ck were the showers? Isn’t this a beach?? Shouldn’t there be a shower house??? He sighed and kicked the sand, not noticing the shadow behind him.

“Hi,”

“f*ck,” Tommy was jump scared for the second time that day, and swiftly turned around to face a familiar brown mop of hair.

“You good man?” Tubbo asked, curiosity and concern swirling in his eyes. Tommy was aware that this was their first time meeting in this world, but he could care less for introductions.

“No, today has been absolutely horrible”

“Well damn, that sucks”

“I know right! First, everyone hates me, next Techno tries to kill me, then Wilbur drops me into the ocean! What do they all have against me? I'm such a great guy.”

Tubbo only chuckled. “I mean, you kind of do this to yourself dude.”

“I,” well, "okay fair enough,” Tommy admitted. Tubbo gave a small laugh.

“Anyways, need help finding the shower house?”

Oh right, amid their small convo, Tommy completely forgot he wasf*cking freezing. He was violently shaking and jittering now, teeth chattering and fingers turning blue. The sky had turned dark with the moon slowly rising from the east.

Tommy nodded and followed Tubbo, who led him to the showers without a word and pointed out the laundromat next door. Tubbo handed him a towel and waved goodbye and goodnight. Tommy didn’t know why the boy decided to help, but he was grateful nonetheless. He stood in the doorway and looked up at the night sky. With the stars sparkling in his eyes, he headed inside. Tomorrow would be another day.

Chapter 9: A Starry Night

Chapter Text

Actually, tomorrow was the official start and first game of the event. Tommy made sure to remember this fact while mid-shower and hit himself in the head for his forgetfulness. Everything was going terribly. If he could barely manage to keep his composure today, then he definitely wouldn’t survive tomorrow. He wanted to punch a wall but contained his frustration to just a few tired sighs. Remembering made everything so much more stressful and sent his senses into overdrive. It was like Tommy could barely relax. And even with the luxury daybeds, napping was useless since he would toss and turn and struggle to sleep.

He picked up his freshly washed clothes from the laundromat, tugging on his red and white tee. It was worn out and almost coming apart at the seams, but one look would show it was well-loved and taken care of. Tommy made sure of that.

He took one of the handout blankets, draping it across his shoulders and over his head like a hood. He walked outside, barefoot since his shoes were still at the cleaners, and found a bench near the mini-golf course deciding to sit on it. Faraway, he could see small groups of friends scattered across the paths. Golf clubs in hand with glow stick bracelets and necklaces to light their way. He watched with longing as their bodies shook with distant laughter, and then realized that staring at other people was creepy. So he opted to gaze at the night sky instead.

“Free hot chocolate!”, Tommy's cold ears picked up the muted words. He looked in the direction of the voice to see a woman running a hot cocoa stand. Y'know what, why not? He was in the mood for some comforting hot chocolate (and also because it was like, free.) Tommy stood up and walked towards the stand, his bare feet traveling across the sandy concrete path.

“Care for a hot chocolate?” The woman - Niki - offered as he approached the stand, her voice soft as it always was. The light that emitted from the window was warm and gave his hands color again. The setup was homely, and the heat trapped inside poured out and hugged Tommy like a second blanket.

“Yes please,” he said, voice shaking slightly though he hoped she didn’t notice. It seemed she did though, and Tommy watched her grab one of the bigger mugs as she walked to the back of the hut. Niki was in overalls and a white sweater. It matched her bleached hair, which was up in space buns, and contrasted the black side-bangs that framed her face. Niki hummed while she made the hot chocolate, throwing in some mini marshmallows and mixing it with a silver spoon that made a light sound whenever it clanged against the porcelain. She turned back around and gently passed Tommy his hot chocolate, napkins wrapping the mug so his hands wouldn't burn holding it.

“Have a great night,” She waved him off with a small smile and kind eyes. Tommy seemed to be getting a lot of those recently, and he was thankful for it every time. It just made it a bit easier to breathe.

He walked back to his still empty bench, sitting cross-legged with the blanket wrapped around him cozily. He held the mug in his lap, the warmth becoming a calming source of heat. He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a sip. The cocoa wasn’t hot enough to burn his tongue but not lukewarm either. It tasted sweet and soothed his slightly sore throat, Niki always made the best cups of hot cocoa. His mind began to run off to faraway memories without him realizing it.

During the Dream SMP days Tubbo’s hot cocoas were always too sweet, and Wilbur’s were always somehow bitter. (Tommy suspected that the man lied and gave him coffee.) So he would often visit Niki's bakery.

Her home was far away from all the conflict, living a quiet life in a hill right outside the docks. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell the freshly baked bread and the taste of sponge cakes. The scent of hot cocoa was one he was familiar with, remembering the many nights he would sneak into the shop only to find the woman already waiting there for him with two steamy mugs.

He wonders what happened to her after he died.

Tommy glanced back to the stand. Niki had her back turned to him and was no doubt still humming a tune he seemed to recognize.

Did they hold a funeral? Did she attend? Tommy pictured a devastated Niki standing over his coffin, lilies of the valley in hand. He could almost hear her cries as they lowered him into the ground. Tommy swiped across his eyes, he didn’t want to continue thinking about it.

He sighed and took another sip of cocoa. It was strange, being surrounded by familiar faces, but having none of those faces recognize you too. He felt alone, now more than ever. He had so many people to talk to, yet none he could talk to about this.

The cold night air was melancholy, a feeling Tommy knew all too well. If he listened closely enough, he could hear the soft piano Tubbo would play late at night in the back of the caravan when he thought everyone else was asleep. No one really was, but they never told the boy that. It was a pleasant secret, a nice surprise. The music was lovely and charming. Often it was a reminder of what they were fighting for.

And sometimes they would hear a guitar join in, telling them that Wilbur was awake and playing too. The days he spent in L’manberg’s walls were memories he treasured. Tommy wondered if they finally got their independence, and instead of feeling bitter about his death, was happy it would at least bring them peace.

He finished his hot cocoa and went up to the stand to return the mug. Niki gave another kind smile and wished him a good night. Tommy returned the smile with one of his own. Though he must’ve looked dumb doing so because Niki’s grin only grew wider. He walked off, past the bench, and towards the daybed he slept on during the first night.

But what he didn’t expect was a note waiting there for him. His eyes widened with shock. The note was sitting there looking harmless if not a bit suspicious. But the words written on the paper turned Tommy's world upside down.

I remember you.

Chapter 10: What Does Home Feel Like?

Chapter Text

Tommy’s world just flipped on its axis and he had to force himself to breathe in and out. Panic, was it panic?filled his senses and drowned out his thoughts. He didn’t know how or when his mind went blank and his eyes slipped close. But the boy welcomed the darkness with a tight embrace and let it engulf his existence.

Tommy didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. Which he thinks, is pretty understandable considering the situation he was in. Someone out there remembered him, someone out there could be real. That single thought was everything Tommy lived for and more. But he couldn’t celebrate quite yet. The possibility that everything was fiction in kept him running circles in his own head. His fears were two sides of the same coin, going back and forth about the same subject for what felt like hours. Like- like uh...a debate club! Yes, adebate club, but one without the air of maturity and proper form that two debaters would have. Instead, his internal debate was a bit more emotional, paranoid, and maybe the arguments were even just plain illogical sometimes. But this back and forth catch and throw kept Tommy’s mind sharp. Leaving him observant of every detail he could collect and file away for later.

Still, he just kept thinking and thinking. And sometimes he wished could pause his mind for even just a minute to have a well-needed moment of silence. He could feel his train of thought take off again, it’s carts rattling against the track. He found it easier to give in, hopping on to buckle up for the ride.

If Tommy had to choose a side, he’d choose to believe. Afterall, they didn't seem like the type of imaginary friends a 4-year-old would conjure up. Loneliness alone couldn’t create something like this,right?Tommy could only second guess himself. Overflowing with doubt that he didn’t know how to deal with. His figure usually radiated confidence with every step, but when it came to this—when it came to something he truly cared about—uncertainty clouded his thoughts leaving him scared of the truth. The note could’ve even just been another one of Wilbur’s pranks, except the wording made him suspect otherwise. (What wording? There were literally only three words! Why was he overthinking this? )

But for now, he remained neutral. Not too hopeful or hopeless, but somewhere in the middle. He hated being in the middle.

Picking up his now clean shoes from the laundromat, Tommy slid into the beach-themed cafe next door. Seashells and floaties hung from the ceiling by fishing nets and rope. The decor made it feel tropical, as did the open windows that brightened up the place with early sunshine. Sluggishly, the blonde stumbled towards the counter, ordering a coffee with as much creamer and sugar as possible. Walking over to the nearest table, he plopped down on the seat with a thump. Taking a tentative sip of the drink, he hoped the sweeteners helped the taste. It remained bitter, and Tommy stuck his tongue out in disgust. The tired teen sighed and slumped in his chair, deciding he could stay in the cafe for the rest of the morning.

He watched through a window as people began to rise. They went about their mornings with easygoing smiles, well-rested and relaxed, ready to take on the day without a care in the world. (Tommy wishes he could be like them.)

Above the dome’s entrance hung a gigantic TV screen. Displaying glowing white numbers in a timer, 30 seconds left. Everyone gathered at the start of the drawbridge, waiting for the other side to lower. A chorus of voices chanted a countdown in anticipation, sounding similar to midnight on New Years'. Tommy could hear his teammates banter behind him, but he didn’t bother to join in, too busy marveling at the sparkling fireworks on display. (He’d never seenactual fireworks before, they disappeared a long time ago. But if they were anything like these, then Tommy knew that they were beautiful.) Colors lit up the sky, sparks like exploding mini-stars, reflecting in his bright blue eyes which were dazzled by the show. He didn’t even question why it seemed to be night during the early morning, the admins must’ve set the time for the opening.

“10! 9! 8!-'' With the countdown reaching its climax, the crowd buzzed with excitement. People of all backgrounds and characters screaming and cheering as the one morphed into a zero. An air horn blared and roared, echoing throughout the beach and reaching the ears of the players.

Declaring the start of MCC 9.

Across from them, the second half of the the bridge lowered and dozens rushed to cross it, the cluster of bodies racing into the dome. The bridge shook from the weight of their steps but held sturdy for another day. Inside, the grand dome was spacious. Its high glass ceiling functioned as a skylight, and floors upon floors of seats circled the center for watchers to peer from above. There were elevators on each side, where Tommy spotted the max capacity sign.25 people huh? Schemes were already swirling around in his head. He followed his team to the center of the dome, which sunk into the ground in a colorful 10 piece pie.

“Welcome to the Decision Dome!”

Standing on the red balcony, Tommy had a clear view of the other teams. Eyes darting around, something caught his attention from the top of his sight. Pictures flickered on the TV screens that hung from above before finally settling on different images. He glanced at some of the games, bright blue eyes jumping from screen to screen. Sky battle..? Sands of Time? What kind of games were they? An egg popped into the hands of every player as a vote. He watched people chuck the eggs into the pit below and his eyes widened in surprise when fully grown chickens emerged. Curious, he threw his own egg, not aiming for any particular game, and gasped when a chicken did appear,interesting. His ears picked up on the flowing conversation of Scott and Wilbur in the background. (“ - oh it might be battle bo- wait no it’s sky battle”) But Tommy didn’t quite understand what those were. Only vaguely registering the groans of his teammates at the announcement of the first game.

“Sky Battle! Teleporting soon…”

Tommy blinked, his body above a spiral of floating islands. He couldn’t see anyone, but a voice that seemed to come from inside his mind began listing off the rules.

“Here’s how you play....the aim is to remain as the last team standing…..”

Tommy peered down at the islands below, seeing the chests in the air held up by mini-hot air balloons. There were iron blocks on alternating islands that could be used to craft armor, and the brewing stands on the second ring... hmm….

“...gather resources, craft, and eliminate your opponents to survive....”

And at that last sentence, Tommy smirked, already letting confidence creep into his stance. He could work with this. Yeah sure, he may be an anxious mess right now, but he also knew his sh*t. Knew it like the back of his hand.

Three rounds total, each twenty minutes, one “life” per round. (They were in a different realm, a pocket made by the admins just to host games. Pockets were usually little mini-dimensions they could enter and exit. Here, he didn’t have to fear the threat of death. So Tommy knew falling into the void wouldn’t instantly mean game over. If he died in the main realm, however, that was a different story.)

A border, 20-minute time limit, and infinite blocks. It kinda reminded him of an old game he used to play during his Hypixel days. What was it...Sky wars? Yeah, Tommy could absolutely own this game.

They dropped onto their islands, all they had were iron chest plates, stone tools, some food, and infinite red team-colored blocks. They were given 5 minutes to come up with a strategy, and Tommy took the lead.

“Listen up, this is my game,” He said, and surprisingly, no one doubted it. Not even Wilbur, which was..a bit suspicious, but Tommy wasn’t complaining. “Ok ok, we’ve got hard teams next to us,” Tommy bit his nail, glancing nervously at the team to their left. Techno’s team, definitely needed to avoid the left.

“We go to the right,”

“Yeah,”

“Someone grab those iron blocks,” He heard Scott say, but Tommy was preoccupied with peering down into the void below. The blonde gulped, maybe even broke a sweat. He was about to throw up and the game hadn’t even started yet! The announcement filled his ears, “Starting in 3, 2—” he took a deep breath and shook out his nerves, he could do this. Tommy was not going to fall into that void, not if he could help it.I can do this.Looking ahead, laser-focused on reaching the right island, Tommy prayed that his skills hadn’t disappeared over the years.Limbs don’t fail me now.“—1.”

He let his instincts take over, swiftly making it to the right island and throwing open the chest’s lid. Grabbing the crossbow with swift hands, he tossed one to Philza who caught it with ease, quickly loading and firing arrows under scary accuracy.

“Border is shrinking.”

Tommy paced, looking around for their next move. His teammates were busy putting up barriers to protect from projectiles, but other teams were already on the inner ring.They were already behind. While his teammates were busy crafting themselves full iron, Tommy could only stand still, frozen in place. Everything was swirling around him like a whirlpool, happening too fast for him to react. People were shouting and screaming in the distance. Light reflected off of the brightly colored blocks and the beaming sunlight shined into his eyes. He felt paralyzed, sounds fading in and out until he could only hear his ragged breathing. It was all too much, the world muting, and colors growing more saturated by the second.

Why did he think he could do this? Nonono he should’ve just made an excuse not to play, he couldn’t handle this.

itstoomuchtherestoomucheverytihgnistoobrightandicanthearwhycantihear

His team was counting on him to think quickly and on his feet. Right now he was doing the opposite. Suspended and stuck in time while the world moved in blurs around him.

whatshappenignwhatamidoingweareplayingagamearentweohright skybattlebloodfightmakeittothemiddle r u n .

He jumped when a wave of pain passed through his body.

“Tommy we need to go.” The border was here.

theborderisherehowlonghaditbeen

“Tommy, it’s going to be alright.” Someone said but he didn’t catch who.

familiarwarmwarmthlistencalmbreatheinbreatheoutinhaleexhaleinhaleexhale

Wilbur .

He scrambled to the edge and bridged to the inner island, the rest of his team following close behind. They reached the inner ring, where enemies awaited them stacked in gear, stances tense and weapons raised.

Fighting came easily to Tommy. He’d spent hours practicing sword fighting and target practice. Knowing how to sharpen an axe and string a bow were crucial survival skills, everyone vaguely knew how. But Tommy knew his craft better than most others, even if no one recognized him for it. For him, swinging a sword and shooting a crossbow was second nature. And it came out in full force as he charged headfirst into a team of four.

(But even the strongest warriors could fall. And this fact always lingered in the back of Tommy’s mind.)

Tommy woke up almost immediately after, heart pounding in his ears as he bit out a curse. He could hear his teammates waking up nearby but prioritized slowing down his breathing.

“Dying” was a terrifying experience, one that Tommy associated with despair and the end of a dream. So “dying” than waking up in the same dream was a bit unnerving, and Tommy half expected to see the white walls of his room. But eventually, the knowledge of his safety caught up to his running thoughts, and his surroundings finally came into focus. He twisted his stiff neck both for relief and to look around. His body had respawned in a small room above the islands. Less of a room and more of a floating glass box that had beds and a mini snack bar in it.

(He also took note of his teammates trashing the snack bar.

“Save some muffins for me f*ckers!” He halfheartedly called.)

Tommy rolled his eyes and exhaled a sigh of relief, glancing at the timer in the sky.

8 minutes left of the first round. The first fvcking round. There were two more rounds of this sh*t, two more horrifying deaths that Tommy dreaded. Heart rate climbing just at the thought of it, he felt a pang of jealousy rise in his chest. He didn’t know how the others could do it, dying and respawning like it wasnothing. Reasonably envious of how they could think of death as nothing more than an inconvenience. However, he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth before it tainted his mindset.

Fireworks thundered around him, fiery embers landing on his iron armor and sparks blinding his vision. They’ve survived a little longer this time. (Because this time I didn’t hesitate, Tommy smiled inwardly at that fact.)

Rushing the islands and pushing back the other teams, the Red Rabbits held the inner ring under their control. After wiping out the Yellow Yaks, they looted the chests for valuables. With the clock ticking, the border closing in, and voices shouting at him to get to the middle, Tommy was in his element.

Narrowly avoiding an attack, he crossed a bridge and made it to the center. He noticed that Wilbur and Phil were gone, and only Scott met him at the last island.

He died shortly later to a well-aimed sword wound from Sapnap.

“We don’t like Sapnap, we just don’t, he’s not that appealing’” Wilbur grumbled.

“Agreed man,” and Tommy couldn’t place where he heard that sentence before.

The last round.

“I’m getting really shaky but we’ve gotta rush it,” Tommy said, hearing the hum of agreement from Scott. “Ok we did really good but we need to be more aggressive,” his eyes quickly traveled from left to right. “—to the right, right’s easy.” He decided, mind going a mile a minute, they had to do well.

“Starting in 3….”

“2…”

“1.”

Blood and chaos, things Tommy thrived in. He bathed in blood and laughed off the pain, it was just how he was.

He would always get bored easily, and a bored Tommy is a Tommy looking for some fun. So with constant boredom came the constant urge to fight. And as a kid that could barely contain his energy, Tommy was almost always roaring to go. Eager to set off either his mouth or his fists, or most times, both. His personality naturally sparked conflict. He knew what buttons to press and the right words to use. He had a reputation and held it with pride. With a knack for getting into trouble, his main source of entertainment came from the chaotic situations he created, so who cared if he caused madness for a bit of fun?

It was a bit concerning, yes, but Techno’s obsession was way more worrying. Compared to him, Tommy was harmless...more or less.

So his drive to fight paired with how easily he could provoke people, Tommy became known as a force to be reckoned with.

However, the moment someone shouted “Technoblade!!!!” Tommy knew they were fvcking screwed. Soon he could no longer hear his teammates’ screams, he cursed their luck. They'd fallen victim to the blood god so early into the game. It all happened in a quick flurry of movement, the world spinning as he hurried to escape and hide somewhere relatively safe. His forgetfulness left him open to archers, and shock struck him when an arrow pierced and dug into his side. Thankfully, the adrenaline numbed the pain, but nothing could save Tommy from plummeting into the void.

He saw Tubbo’s guilt-stricken face as he fell.

“TUBBO NO!!” Tommy awoke with a screech, jolting into a sitting position as his chest rose high and fell low with panting breaths. Mind racked with confusion, the boy stared into the sky. Eyes emptily gazing into space as he felt the betrayal seep into his heart. Letting the pulse behind his eyes fade, he began to process...and though he hated to accept it, Tommy knew it had to be done. This was a game, and Tubbo didn’t remember. And that this probably wouldn't be the last time it’d happen. It hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, and he physically recoiled to the realization. This wouldn’t be the last time he’d die at the hands of his best friend. And even if that thought squeezed his heart and left it writhing in pain, Tommy didn’t let out anything more than a whimper.

“He had to kill me, I would’ve done the same.” He whispered to no one but himself, yet he couldn’t help doubt his own words.

“Hey it’s okay man, I got killed by my stereotypical betrayer too,” Wilbur’s hand gripped his shoulder, Tommy didn’t notice himself lean into the touch.

“Tubbo has never betrayed me,” Tommy protested, though it wasn’t the truest statement in the world.

“No, but I mean like,”

“Ohh yeah like, the worst person to betray you—”

“—to betray each of us, yeah.”

“All I feel is pain.” And Tommy laughed it off as the others began to move on from the convo.

5th place, a strong start.

Wilbur began promising a reward if they placed high at the end of the event. And Tommy had been tuning out the guy for a while when he heard the words “—fifteen grand.”

“WHAT” His head turned so fast it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. He could hear Phil and Scott in utter disbelief as Tommy registered how big that number was. 15k...holy sh*t.

“f*ck..” Phill muttered.

“No pressure, no pressure!” He exclaimed, arms waving around, a nervous habit of his, as he was obviously feeling a lot of pressure.

Phil laughed again, “Yeah no pressure Tommy! No pressure.”

And though Tommy knew Phil said it jokingly, he still felt the stress pile and build up in his head, the weight on his shoulders grows heavier. He could only rub at his face and pull at his blonde hair, reassuring himself of reality. (Well, kinda reality)

He didn’t care all that much about the money, no. I mean what would he even do with 15k? Besides, the 15k probably wasn't real, just dream money, it didn't exist. Really, it was the increasing pressure for him to perform well that kept him sweating bullets.

Tommy often felt like he was on stage, standing under a bright as fvck spotlight. Panic rising an inch higher with every awkward second of silence that went by. His mind desperately reaching for lines to say and struggling with absolutely no script to read off of. Like improv! But improv done on 5 hours of sleep, and made by a traumatized and stressed out 16-year old that could barely even take care of himself. So how did they expect him to lead others? For a second he let anger cloud his mind at the unfairness of it all but quickly pushed away those thoughts. Leaving the conversation and picking at his cuticles as they announced the MVPs of the game.

Apparently, they’d played through the afternoon, and now a few hours away from dusk everyone had split off onto their groups exhausted and ready to hit the hay, Tommy was no exception. The teen had all but collapsed onto his daybed, deciding to catch up on the hours of sleep that he missed. Convincing himself that someone would wake him up later for dinner. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow and gladly welcomed the darkness into his body.

Tommy slept through dinner. Realizing this when he woke up to a pitch-black sky that was darker than dusk. The sun was nowhere to be seen.

His body shivered from the absence of a blanket, and when he lifted his hands to rub at his eyes, he flinched at his cold palms. Tommy swung his legs over the chair to sit up, rubbing his hands together and letting the movement chase away his grogginess. His breaths came out in a puff of mist that floated up in the cold air. He looked around at the people still awake, familiar faces chatting with their also familiar friends in the plaza.

No one bothered to wake him up for dinner.

A claw began closing around his heart, and when tears began to gather at the edges of his eyes he pleaded for them not to fall. It was his fault, after all, foolishly expecting someone to care. Tommy swiped at his eyes and carefully stood up. Shakily and slowly, he took a step, then took another, exhaling another misty cloud. With each step, the chore of walking became easier as he inched towards the dome. Even if he missed dinner, Tommy was willing to beg for any leftover scraps they had left. Some food was better than no food.

On the 3rd floor of the Decision Dome sat the cafeteria. And though Tommy knew that the food stands outside would gladly offer him food, he wasn’t in the mood to face anyone familiar right now.

Tommy stepped into the elevator and jabbed at the third button. The short ride up stopped with a ding and the doors opened to a relatively empty room. Tables and chairs were scattered across the floor in disarray, a sign that people were here fairly recently. Only the kitchen workers remained, cleaning up forgotten candy wrappers and dirty plates. One of them noticed him standing awkwardly next to the elevator, and Tommy saw as a spark of recognition lit up their eyes. Briefly stepping away from their task, they motioned towards Tommy, then pointed in the direction of the serving area. Tommy bowed his head as thanks and walked towards the counter. There, at the very end, he spotted a single styrofoam container. Hesitantly walking forward, he saw that there were words written on the lid in bold, black ink.

“For TommyInnit.” It read, someone remembered, someone....cared. He lifted the lid with unsteady hands and let out a small gasp.

A slice of steak and a baked potato, both still hot and steaming. Next to it, a loaf of freshly baked bread, and he could even see a bottle of honey peeking out from behind. Tommy closed the box, holding it carefully like a treasure as he carried it outside. With light steps, his legs carried him to the same bench he sat on the night before. Crawling onto the creaking wood, he sat cross-legged and placed the meal on his lap.

He opened the box once again and melted into the heat it emitted. Mouth watering, the hungry teen scooped up the baked potato in his hand and took a bite.

The food was warm. Warm like Niki’s hot chocolate, warm like Phil’s hugs. Warm like the fireplace during winter, like the banter with his friends, like rivalries with Techno. Warm like home. Oh, that’s what it was. This warmth felt like coming home. Something pricked behind Tommy’s eyes signaling that the dam was about to break. He took another bite into the baked potato, then another. Tears bloomed from the corners of his eyes and streamed down his cheeks like waterfalls.

This warmth felt like doing stupid sh’t with his friends on Hypixel (Eryn would always laugh at Tommy’s antics. Setting up random stands and blatantly scamming people like the dumb kids they were) Soon nothing was left of the baked potato, and he moved on to take a bite of the steak.

This warmth felt like waging “war” against Techno just for the fun of it. (He always lost, yet never gave up. The constant wars were honestly just an excuse to hang out with the man. He’s certain Techno knew it too, and yet he still never denied Tommy’s plea for company.) He cut the bread loaf in half and poured the honey onto it. His soft sob was muffled by the sweetness in his mouth.

This warmth felt like helping Tubbo harvest honey from his bee farm. (Though he’d never admit it, Tommy had taken a liking to Tubbo’s bees. And made an effort to listen to Tubbo’s rambles and could list off every bee’s name and how Tubbo got them. Yet without fail, Tommy always ended up angering the small creatures, but in his mind, the painful stings were worth Tubbo’s smile.)

Tommy didn’t know how he got here. Weeping over a hot meal on a cold bench under the moonlight. Alone with no blanket, yet he was warm. He was warm and surrounded by friends. Even if they were just memories, Tommy wasn’t alone. And even if only one person remembered, he could still live if no one else did. Happy just to be able to see them again.

And as his tears ran dry, and his hiccups began to slow. Tommy looked down at his now empty plate and gave it a heartfelt smile. He had 9 days left. And even if he didn’t find what he was looking for by the last day, he would still leave grateful. At least he got to see them again.

One last time.

Before the sun swallowed Venus in 8 months.

Chapter 11: Interlude: S-17V33

Chapter Text

Sylvee was f*cked

She knew she was f*cked the moment Tommy turned the hallway and an army of security staff came rushing through the doors.

She knew she was dead when all hell broke loose in the cafeteria as they surrounded her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Krinios struggle to reach her and heard his gut-wrenching scream when they slammed the barrel of a handgun against his head.

The image of her unconscious friend finally started her into action. Sylvee snapped out of her shock and decked the first guy in the face. She saw another reach into his pocket for an object and kicked them in the stomach as she dove for the weapon.

It was......a gun. Could she really do this…? She had no choice.

If Sylvee could grant herself the luxury of hope, she’d hope that Tommy becomes the first to escape this broken and damned place.

A tired brunette woke up in a room she never wanted to be in.

The room she will die in.

White lights glared at her from above and the four walls surrounding her were mirrors, showing her shaky form in the middle of the floor. The only color in the room came from the blood on her apron. She could hear a ticking noise from an analog clock that she couldn't see. The final seconds went by in a...

tick

tock

tick

A voice boomed from behind the one-way glass. It commanded attention and screamed of tyrannical power, of course it was him. Yet Sylvee still flinched at the echoing numbers that bounced off the walls. The voice stayed emotionless, and entirely void of mercy.

“S-17V33”

tick

tock

The tired woman slowly nodded, secretly terrified of how calmly she was accepting her fate. Though it was probably leftovers from whatever drugs these f*ckers put in her system.

Sylvee met her own gaze through the mirror. She studied the way dark brown hair framed her face and curled off at the ends, bouncing slightly as if they were metal springs. Her equally chocolate brown eyes flicked from the dark bags under them down to the worn and worked hands she would use to bake cookies for her friends. Sylvee engraved every chipped nail and faded scar into her heart.

tick

This would be the last time she saw herself.

tock.

“Welcome S-17V332”

And the blonde girl opened her eyes, unknowing of who she once was.

Chapter 12: Elevator Capacity: 25

Chapter Text

“Hey, you alright man?”

Tommy hissed out a curse, wincing at how his body jumped. He sighed, rubbing at his face to wake himself up a bit more. “Yeahhh I’m fine Wilby, just a little tired is all.” He mumbled with drooping sleep-ridden eyes, not noticing the little nickname that slipped out. His hazy mind became even more confused when someone began laughing a second later.

“Did you just call meWilby ?”

“No I did not,” and Tommy honestly didn't remember if he did, he kinda just wanted to go back to sleep.

A wave of confusion lapped at the shores of Tommy's sleep foggy brain. He didn’t do anything amazing today, he actually didn't do anything yet today. So what did he do to deserve that look, and why did Wilbur’s gaze feel so....loving.

An unknown warmth bloomed in his chest. It spread to the back of his eyes and traveled to the ends of his fingertips and -oh. For a brief second, Tommy felt the overwhelming urge to cry. The instinct to jump into Wilbur’s embrace and sink into his chest itched in his brain, screaming at him to leap. And Tommy yearned for that scene, how safe and howright it would be.

Simply put, Tommy wished to know what it was like to be hugged by his pseudo brother again.

The blonde's right hand lifted towards Wilbur's shoulder before stopping halfway. It hung there for a moment, hesitating before being brought over his mouth to cover a yawn. Tommy's hand slowly dropped back down to his side as if it weighed heavier than his soul.

The blonde heaved a sigh, shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his jeans and walking away from Wilbur without bothering to mumble a goodbye. It probably should've been harder to do, just leaving Wilbur out of the blue, but it wasn't, and maybe that was a bad thing. Tommy very obviously just wasn’t in the mood to be anything but tired, and Wilbur didn't chase after him either. So maybe Wilbur just didn’t care, and that was okay.

Last night exhausted him so much. Even if he got 8 hours of sleep, he spent the hour before it tossing and turning. He was drained in every aspect of existence, and it didn’t help that he only had 2 hours before the second game.

He could feel the skin below his eyes sink deeper into the bone of his skull, felt how his legs were shaking and struggling to keep him upright. His hands were freezing even in the pockets of his jeans and his arms ached with overuse from yesterday.

Looking around, he tried to find the path that led to the main area. He was currently standing at the edges of a forest, surrounded by caravans and campfires where most players stayed every night. It was easy to be jealous of those that claimed their stay here. They had it all; campfires, bunks, electricity. They spent every night with roofs over their heads and roommates to talk to.

Unlike Tommy, who slept alone on a daybed with a single blanket to keep warm. He told himself that a bed on the beach was better because he got to watch the sunrise. He didn't need their stupid caravans anyways.No one invited him inside.

The blonde strolled down the path, head down and distracted as he watched dirt turn to wooden floorboards and then into concrete. After a while, he found the wooden bench again, still empty. The lonely wood begged for his company, and he was seeking out its comfort too. He shuffled over, trying his best not to collapse onto the seat. Tired eyes drooped, and his gaze lowered to study the bench. On closer inspection, he could see how worn down the wood was from years of weather. Blue eyes scanned and glossed over grooves both deep and shallow. They flickered between where the color faded and where the paint was peeling in certain areas. He took a moment to study the tiny details that people usually never thought to look at.

Tommy didn’t notice when someone appeared in front of him until a hand began waving hesitantly in front of his face. The world came into focus once again, and two feet away, Tubbo stood with a slightly worried expression as he called Tommy’s name with a silent question.Are you okay?

“-ommy?”

“Oh hey Tubbo,” Tommy coughed awkwardly, trying to think of an explanation for spacing out.

“You good man?” The brunette asked.

“Yeah,” No.

“Oh, okay,” Tubbo clearly didn’t believe him, but carried on anyway. “Wanna do something fun?”

“Sure,” something fun?

“Kay follow me,” and the boy held out his hand. Tommy accepted the gesture, catching the extended palm and hoisting himself to stand. With curiosity swirling through his head, he left the bench and followed Tubbo towards the dome.

(And if he closed his eyes, Tommy could pretend they were back on the Dream SMP. Laughing and joking with each other as Tubbo dragged him away from the bench and their sunset.)

Everyone is here. What the f*ck.

The dome was crowded, even if the event wouldn't start for another hour and a half. People were gathered at the seats, seemingly waiting for others to arrive.

“What’s going on?” Tommy’s face twisted in confusion. Blonde eyebrows drawn upwards and mouth curled into a frown. Yet, he smelled mischief - he smelledfun. There was potential for trouble here, and he'd be damned if he missed out on it.

(Tubbo gave him a knowing smirk, pleased to see a familiar spark in his friend’s eyes.)

“Apparently, this building has a secret basem*nt and we’re all trying to get into it.” Tubbo giggled, the way he always did when sharing gossip. He then hushed Tommy (who only raised an eyebrow) in a loud whisper, suggesting that the so-called "secret" wasn’t much of a secret.

“But the elevator doesn’t have a button for a basem*nt floor?”

“Well you see,” Tubbo’s grin only grew wider, “that’s what all these people are for.”

Tubbo stepped aside so that Tommy had a clear view of the elevator...….and the 25 people max capacity sign.

It finally clicked, and Tommy burst out in a fit of laughter while Tubbo joined in.

“Holy sh*t,” Tommy wiped a tear from his eye. “This is gonna be f*ckin’ amazing!”

“And dangerous!!” Tubbo piped in.

“And fun!!!”

“And expensive to fix!!!!”

“Ohh I can’t wait any longer,” Tommy was buzzing. “When’s it happening? Do the admins know?? Has it been done before???” He asked in a flurry of barely contained excitement. These were the kinds of thrilling things he loved, that adrenaline rush that came with breaking the rules and being in risky situations. He has never crashed an elevator before, so he was really looking forward to it.

“Now, they don't, probably,” Tubbo grinned. Grabbing Tommy’s hand and hurriedly dragging him towards the elevator doors. Others were already flocking to the box, cramming inside to fit in the small area.

Tommy held in his breath, and his body shook unwillingly in the discomfort of a confined space. He was nearsomany people. Hopefully Tubbo didn’t notice how strongly Tommy gripped his hand or the sweat coming from his palms. The elevator began to creak and groan as more people squished inside.

The floor trembled beneath his shoes, and Tommy felt his heart drop from his chest down into his stomach. Tubbo squeezed his hand in reassurance, and when Tommy turned, his friend was beaming a nervous but happy grin. Tommy felt his fear melt into shared excitement, it seemed Tubbo just had that effect on him. Before he could blink, cold ears heard the elevator cables snap, and he felt the floor sink below them. The elevator erupted into screams, but the kind you’d hear after the drop on a rollercoaster ride. He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly he was worried they might never open again. It was a moment of pure thrill, true euphoria.

He expected the crash to be scarier, or at least dangerous enough to cause injury. Instead he just fell on his ass without much hurt to it, and the elevator didn’t even break or crack like he thought it would. The doors were forced apart and pushed open to the doorway’s normal size. It was like a dam broke as people poured out of the elevator in one big wave, leaving only Tommy and Tubbo inside.

Tommy blinked to see a hand offering to help him up. He took it and let himself be pulled to stand. Tubbo gave him a dopey smile.

“Whaddya think?”

Tommy was exhilarated, out of breath, and shaken to his core. But completely and utterly alive. Helovedit. “That was f*ckin awesome,”

“Told ya so,” Tubbo snickered.

The two boys explored the basem*nt, which was full of large glass tubes, suspiciously shaped like the ones used in classified government experiments. Inside each tube stood clones of Scott, which was honestly kinda—novery creepy when you think about it. Tommy tapped one of the glass columns, a part of him hoping the clone would move.

It did not, he was very disappointed.

“This place is freaky,” Tommy thought aloud, Tubbo nodded in agreement.

They explored deeper into the basem*nt. Passing signs on the displays that read Scott’s many aliases such as Scott Smajo r and Dangthatsalongname. Empty cages hung from the ceiling and lined the walls.

They heard an admin groan and mumble about the damages. “It took us two weeks to fix the last one..” They let out a tired sigh, but it came out in a playful way that let Tommy know they weren’t actually mad.

“So….how do we get out?”

“Uh oh”

“You guys didn’t think about how to escape???” Tommy should've expected this, honestly.

“Must’ve slipped my mind”

“So now we’re trapped in a creepy basem*nt”

“Pretty much,” and Tubbo had the audacity to smile.

Tommy whined about the admins coming to trap them all in cages, but his act broke out in a smile when Tubbo laughed at him.

“ALL RIGHT YOU LAB RATS, GET YOUR ASSES UP THIS LADDER, DAY TWO IS STARTING,” an admin shouted from the speakers. Tommy and Tubbo snickered as they followed the crowd back to the broken elevator.

Tommy didn’t realize that hanging out with Tubbo had lifted his spirit a bit, and parting with his best friend especially made that difference clear. It was as if being with Tubbo made his happiness peak, and without him, Tommy felt like a downhill slope that only continued to decline. The best word he could think of to describe it is….emptiness. A permanent type of emptiness that only the most miserable of people could feel, and it sucked.

He watched the brown-haired boy skip back to his MCC team. Tommy's eyes snapped to Sylvee as soon as he caught her blonde hair, intensely glaring as if he could find an answer by just looking at the near stranger. His eyes moved up to see that Dream was staring right back at him. (Or at least it looked like he was because of that damned mask.) A little panicked, Tommy quickly turned his head and darted away towards his own group. Behind him, the masked man watched the teen’s shrinking figure as the blonde ran off into the distance.

Chapter 13: A Really Bad Keyboard Smash

Chapter Text

After Tommy eventually found his team on the bridge, it took a whole 3 minutes for them to realize he was there.

When he approached, they were all mid-joke, too busy goofing and gaffing to notice his presence. Wilbur was the one to finally spot him, patting him on the back with a “Tommy! How long have you been there?” and if Tommy were any more of an asshole than he already was, he would’ve probably said something along the lines of ‘Long enough to know you don’t care.’

But he was too numb to give a fvck as the adrenaline from the elevator wore off, and instead just decided to lie and say that he “just got here” with a voice so flat, a robot might as well have taken over his body.

That answer seemed to satisfy the group though, as they moved past it and began walking towards the dome for the second game choosing. They all probably brushed it off as a “teenager thing.” All except for Wilbur, who instead started to hover around Tommy like a worried friend who didn’t know how to help.

The tired blonde just sighed, not really wanting to acknowledge the guy he ghosted this morning. Yet he sucked it up, and proceeded to grumble that his mood would be better with coffee in an attempt to ease Wilbur’s worry.

The dome had an indoor cafe, thank f*ck.

Tommy almost cried out of relief when the bitter taste of black coffee hit his tongue. Phil and Scott looked concerned while Wilbur just sipped on his own barely sweetened coffee.

Normally Tommy hated drinking coffee without at least 5 cups of creamer and 10 packets of sugar. But for the rare occasions where he could barely even keep himself standing, black coffee straight from the pot was like heaven. The bitterness grounded him in reality while the caffeine kick-started his heart and got him into action. He managed to get himself addicted to one of the only legal drugs available, and it was doing absolute wonders.

Honestly, the only thing stopping him from mixing coffee with various different energy drinks and ascending to the astral plane is that apparently he’s “too young” to purchase a 6-pack of red bulls. Bullsh*t, if you asked him.

Coffee addiction aside, the Decision Dome was waiting for them.

“Let’s do it boys!” the blonde teen cheered. He was practically jumping as the same pictures from yesterday flickered on the TV screens above him.

“x1.5! The Coin Multiplier Increases”

A loaded crossbow appeared out of thin air and dropped into his hands. Looking around, he could see that his teammates had ones as well.

“Oh, we can kill chickens!”

“I might just shoot Tubbo,” Tommy joked, although even just mentioning the name saddened him a bit. He glanced at the lime balcony across from his, only to see that Tubbo had already been looking too. The brunet noticed the blue eyes staring and immediately the boy’s face lit up in a smile as he began to wave. Tommy waved back with a grin that mirrored his best friend's and felt the tiniest bit of tension be lifted off his shoulders.

“TGTTOSAWAF! Teleporting soon…”

“Here’s how you play….”

Tommy wants to thank the kind and considerate angel who implemented mandatory instructions for each game because he would be desperately lost without them. Especially in this game, where the name was some kind of horribly done keyboard smash. Honestly, it was like an amateur typed it. He had no clues to guess what the game was about, hopefully the rules were short and simple to understand.

“Hey! Why did the chicken cross the road?

…

To Get To The Other Side And Whack A Fan!!!

xD xD xD”

Never mind, Tommy was going to spit in their coffee instead.

Round 1

Once the actual instructions had been said, ( Get to the other side, yadda yadda, 6 rounds and different maps, 10 minutes per round, whatever) Tommy stood at the starting line, boat in hand as the countdown began.

“Chaos begins in 10, 9, 8…”

Scott said something about a coin bonus if they became the first team to be done. Tommy had that in mind as he readied himself to leap.

“3, 2, 1! Ding ”

“Look at me go!” Tommy said as he drifted his boat along the ice track and jumped out in favor of running instead. He heard Phil shout out a “Zoom zoom zoom!!” as he passed by. In seconds, Tommy was at the finish line. He hopped across it and into the pit below where a crowd of NPCs stood, then ran up to the nearest one and punched it, watching in awe as it exploded into coins and fireworks that fizzed out.

He blinked and was teleported into a small room, not unlike the one his team went to in Sky Battle (Invisible walls, above the game map, etc.) Except for this one had no beds, only a snack bar and a few colorful bean bag chairs to lounge on.

Tommy finished in 13th, below him there were still 27 other people who hadn’t reached the end yet. With 3 minutes left of the round, he joined Wilbur in terrorizing the snack bar and hogging all of the tiny cubes of cheddar.

Round 2

The game handed Tommy a giant fork. Well, a trident, but it was technically just a fancy giant fork. All he would need is a plate of giant food to go with it and he’d be set for life. Wouldn’t that be nice. Just chilling through life, sitting on a giant turkey leg, diving in giant mashed potatoes, swimming in a giant pool of red jello—

“Guys get ready,” Phil said.

Oh right, he was in the middle of a tournament, Huh.

“Chaos begins in 10, 9, 8…”

It was a water course, and Tommy only vaguely remembered from SMP Earth that tridents launched you into the air if you stood in water. Hopefully in the next three seconds his body will magically remember how to swim. Eh, drowning isn’t a bad way to go, innit?

“3, 2, 1! Ding ”

“Third!” Tommy cheered, smiling as he waded in the shallow water of the pool.

He blipped into the room again, this time being the first one there. The blonde rushed over to the snack bar and grinned. Maybe he should monopolize on the glazed donuts before the others came.

Round 3

Wilbur stopped responding for a few minutes after teleporting to the waiting room. Tommy noticed immediately since he expected a war to break out over donuts, but Wilbur didn’t seem to see him. The man wasn’t moving or speaking, and Scott kept trying to reassure Tommy that Wilbur would be fine to play the next game. Phil brushed it off as well, but Tommy suspected that something else was going on.

Tommy peered over the two’s shoulders, (one of the advantages of having a couple of inches of height over them) and if he squinted, it almost looked like the brunet’s figure was.... .glit̴̘̩͎̗͑̃̓̇̕̕ch̷̨͔̩̹̯̤̺͍̦̅͂̿̍̑ing?

He only caught the RGB colors for a second before they were all teleported to the next game. Wilbur seemed completely fine then.

“What happened?”

“Chaos be̸̟̖͎̺̩͓̥̎̍͊͌͐̎͜͝gins in 10, 9, 8…”

“Oh I just spaced out for a minute, it’s okay though,” The man gave a smile that looked a little too panicked for Tommy’s comfort, but he had no time to ask about it further as the countdown reached its end.

“3, 2, 1! Diņ̶̧͖̪̖̑̅̓̉͒̐͜ͅg ”

“Nineteenth!”

“We were first to finish!” Scott called out, and Wilbur let out a faint cheer.

“WE’RE IN FIRST,” Tommy had just realized. The blonde blipped into the waiting room with the others. “WE’RE IN FIRST PLACE, WE’RE WINNING.”

Round 4

“We’re jumping out of a plane?!?!” Tommy’s fear of heights began crawling up his legs, planting his feet into the floor. The others didn’t seem to notice his dilemma, instead they were,, imitating beeping noises?? The f*ck?????

“Chao̶̻͉̙͙͛̈͐̇͐̅̈́ͅs begins in 10, 9, 8…”

“Just punch people at the beginning,” Wilbur advised.

“No”

“3, 2, 1! Ding ”

Tommy was punched off the plane by Wilbur. It worked in his favor though, he came 19th.

He blipped into the small room once again, and this time, he’ll get his glazed donut war.

Round 5

This time, the game gave Tommy wings. Sadly, he couldn’t fly with them, only glide from tall heights. Whoever invented the elytra obviously hated Tommy and wanted to see him suffer a sad and miserable flightless life. He might just talk to the guy’s manager and sue them for the inconvenience.

“Chaos begins in 10, 9, 8…”

He glanced to see Philza without an elytra. It made sense though, the man already had a perfectly good pair of lavender wings attached to his back. It seemed like he was allowed to use them for this particular round, and a wicked smile spread across the winged man’s face. The smile was all teeth and held no mercy, it was almost terrifying. Almost.

“3, 2, 1! Ding ”

“I got second”

“I got sixth!”

Tommy blipped into the room, already missing the weight of an elytra on his back. He fell onto one of the bean bag chairs and melted into the soft cushion before opening his eyes to peer at the ongoing game below him.

“Oh Tubbo’s not done yet,” it seemed that Scott was observing the game as well.

“Oh Tubbo, come on Tubbo, you’re pulling down the Lime Llamas,” Tommy teased, even if the brunet boy wasn’t there to defend himself, still a distance away from the finish line. He let out a small laugh, if Tubbo could hear him right now Tommy would definitely be thrown out the window. “I actually really want Tubbo to do good, go on Tubbo, my good friend—”

“Round Over!”

Press F to pay respects.

Round 6

Tommy found Tubbo along the starting line, tapping the shorter boy on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Last round was unlucky man, you’ll get it this time,” Tommy whispered.

“Chaos begins in 10, 9, 8…”

“I miss you man,” Tubbo whispered back, though a small smile replaced the frown that weighed down his face before.

“I miss you too”

“3, 2, 1! Ding ”

“Fifth!”

Tommy blipped into the room, the first in his team to finish, again.

“Come on Wilbur!” He cheered from above, even if his teammate couldn’t hear him. “Look at him go!!”

Wilbur blipped into the room along with Scott, except the brunet seemed to be glit̴̛͎̜̜̠̫̅̑͊̚ching again. However, before he could ask if Wilbur was okay, Scott redirected Tommy’s attention to below where Phil was still struggling to get to the end.

Tommy stood directly next to Scott, yet the man’s cheering seemed distant to his ears. Tommy couldn’t stop thinking about what he saw. But when he looked over to Wilbur again, the older appeared to be back to normal, joining Scott in cheering on Phil like nothing ever happened.

They began announcing the Top 5 Playe̶͍͇͙̋̐̿̊̓̏̓͒̎rs of the game, and Tommy didn’t notice his name being called until Wilbur fluffed up his hair and said “good job.”

And if Tommy saw L’manberg Wilbur for that split second, well, that was for him to know.

“Guys third place, third place pog”

“We’re in— Oh my gods, we’re gonna- We might win!!”

They were back in the main hub, and just like yesterday, it was only a few hours until dusk.

Tommy began walking off, already thinking of taking a nap since well, what else was there to do?

“Where are you going?”

Tommy turned around at the question, first his head, then his body twisted to face the same direction. It was Wilbur who asked, though Scott and Phil were beside him and looking at Tommy expectantly as well. It took the blonde boy a few seconds to realize they were asking him, and Tommy stuttered out a delayed response.

“Well I uh, I was going to—” take a nap because no one will invite me to do...whatever it is people do. But Tommy decided that answer was too depressing, so he went with “use the bathroom’ instead.

“Well, once you’re done with that, do you wanna come to join us in the basem*nt to explore? We can grab dinner afterward too.”

And Tommy didn’t know how to respond. The one thing he never considered would happen..just happened, to him, right in front of his poggers blue eyes. It seemed like Wilbur heard his conflicting thoughts and backed off, but not without a final invitation that he could join them if he wanted to. The group wordlessly walked off, leaving Tommy standing on the beach with nothing but his thoughts.

Chapter 14: Beaches but Emotional

Chapter Text

Tommy stood at the edge of the vast blue below him. Sand scraped and scratched the dirtied rubber of his red sneakers and grains hid in the nooks and crannies of two crisscrossed soles. White gleamed off the ocean's glassy surface as Poseidon bent light to his will. It created the world’s most breathtaking seaside view.

The clouds twisted and curled into soft stratocumulus that framed the sky. Tommy could feel the heat that burned the back of his neck as the sun lowered and set behind him, ending daylight with a final, colorful show. The teen stood, waiting and waiting for a reason to move. That reason soon came in the form of a yawn emerging from the back of his throat and the warm blanket of dusk that moved him to sit on the shore.

This view was his bedroom wall, the image he got to see every night and every morning. This was not the first time Tommy sat on this beach alone. Yet, this was the first time he sat on this beach alone after being given the chance to not be alone.

Call him dumb and ungrateful that he didn’t jump for joy at Wilbur’s invitation, but uh, yeah fair.

There stood zero reasons for being a no-show, not even the age-old excuse of "walking my pet fish." If Tommy had to choose a why for his actions, he’d chalk it up to the loud and nasty feeling in his gut that told him something was wrong.

Since day 2, his trust issues have been screaming at him, “hop on the nearest train and book it to Hypixel ” each time he spoke to someone. The chanting only went quiet during the championship games, and those only lasted for a few hours each day.

The only reason he hadn’t straight up started ignoring this feeling is that most times, it proved right. He trusted his gut when it told him to go to the cafeteria (or maybe that was his stomach) and when that Krinios guy put raisins into his chocolate chip cookies. Though anyone will know that unfortunately, food isn’t the only thing people will try to poison.

Minds could be poisoned just as, if not more, easily than food could. And no one would object that Tommy’s mind is a mess.

TommyInnit's head is a raging dumpster fire full of trust issues and self-doubt, a lovely combination really. He doesn't trust his judgment when it comes to other people and knows as a fact of life that kindness is only a sweet precursor to betrayal.

Tommy recalls an old memory from SMP Earth. He'd been visiti-ambushing the Antarctic Empire and accidentally stumbled upon a surprisingly warm scene. Technoblade, the renowned king of the Earth's strongest military force, sat on a patchy couch with reading glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose. Embers flickered and crackled from a low fireplace, emitting a glow that reached Tommy's weary eyes.

The night played out cozily, with Tommy lulled to sleep by the tale of Theseus. It was a strange bedtime story all things considered, but Techno was the only one who never babied him. If he'd never fallen through lava in his pursuit for justice, Tommy might've been able to express his gratitude for it.

He supposes that it was a necessary death. There he learned that every foolish hero went down the route of Theseus, and Tommy forbid himself from ending up with the forgotten. People don’t save others for the sole sake of helping, and those who do are met with their own untimely fate. Kindness is an invitation to get taken advantage of, and Tommy didn’t understand why people here served their weaknesses on a silver platter.

So now, two hours after Wilbur asked Tommy to join them in the basem*nt, the blonde rested, laying down on the shore and facing upwards towards the sky. Dusk had begun to paint the light blue sky a deep orange and the white clouds a pastel pink. He’d been doing nothing but stare at the endless expanse above him and hoping that the Earth below would swallow him whole. Suffocating in the sand sounded like a better way to go than burning to death in 8 months.

And just like that, the ever daunting truth of his life came back to weigh on his already stress-filled mind.

He thought back to the facility, how disturbingly clean the staff kept it, how distant everyone stayed. Even his family felt impersonal. He never wanted to return to floors upon floors of desperation and insanity. It only held inhuman guards and nurses without faces. Where gasmask designs were the height of fashion and wanting a career in cooking was unheard of.

No matter how much the cafeteria staff tried to hide it, Tommy could see the whispers wearing them down and the crow's feet etched under the corners of their eyes.

They were labeled the outcasts and the misfits, and Tommy found himself in their social exile. He guesses that makes him a misfit too. Strangely enough, the thought made him proud.

About half an hour ago, the shore rose to reach his feet, so he had ditched the worn socks and soaked shoes to throw them somewhere vaguely above his head.

Currently, the slowly rising tide had reached the folds of his knees, and he’d been counting the seconds it took for the water to recede to his ankles then advance back to his calves.

It made a bit of a scary sight: a 6’3 teenager laid out in the sand, staring blankly at the sky while unmoving and silent. There appeared no sign of life besides the occasional blink and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Tommy always thought there was something peaceful in the thought of death. After all, what is death if not the promise of eternal rest? Yell at him for the dark thought, but Tommy felt like he could continue laying here forever, mimicking death.

He pities the poor soul who might accidentally step on his body while walking along the shore. It might even be Wilbur who does and yikes,that’d be pretty awkward. It’d be like saying that Tommy would rather wait for the Earth to end his misery before even considering hanging out with the Red Rabbits.

And of course, because the universe hates TommyInnit with a burning passion, it chose that exact moment to have someone discover him and scream.

Out of all the people to find and screech at him, why did it have to be Sylvee?

“Why are you just laying on the shore?!”

“Can a man not return to the earth in peace?”

“I could’ve stepped on your face”

“And?”

“I still could now”

“Okay okay,” he groaned and sat up from the sand he’d been sinking into. He felt a bit lightheaded at the action after laying there for so long, and sat still for a few seconds until the white spots in his vision faded away.

A thin layer of sediment clung to his clothes and arms in a way that made his skin itch. He felt significantly less comfortable now than moments earlier, and he didn't know if it was the sand grating on his back or the somewhat menacing presence hovering over his shoulder.

He noticed when Sylvee shuffled closer and joined him on the shore. Suddenly three feet apart felt like three worlds apart.

She’d laid down a beach towel to protect her clothes from the wet sand, and Tommy could only think about how very unlike her the action was but didn’t dare mention it aloud.

The two near-strangers sat in near silence, both owning blonde hair that contrasted so drastically it seemed ironic. The golden-haired boy had curly locks that bounced youthfully with the slight movements of his head, and the bleached blonde looked awfully dull compared to it.

Minutes passed as they watched the sky melt into darker and darker shades. The moon began rising on the horizon, and it reminded Tommy of the tale where a man built a ladder to the moon for his daughter.

(Papa, Please Get The Moon for Me , he slowly recalled as the storybook's title. The father offered his daughter the crescent; I have the moon for you , he’d whispered. The girl danced in twirls and pirouettes in a scene that always looked so free to Tommy’s young mind. He wondered if Phil would ever go to the same lengths for him.)

The silence should have been comfortable, relaxing even, they were at what was basically a vacation resort after all. Yet Tommy’s mind raced and screeched at the manifestation of his worst fears sitting just 3 feet away. His insides were clawing at him to escape, to run. To hide from the person who existed as literal proof that this wonderful dream couldn’t be real. He stole a quick glance to his right, ingraining the sight into his memory before quickly looking away.

Someone had stolen Sylvee’s existence from her flesh, and ruthlessly washed all signs of life from her once aged form. Like a dollmaker dissecting a toy and removing its cotton; they flicked the fluff onto the floor, only to replace the doll’s insides with painfully plucked feathers.

Skilled hands had painted lies over the scars that marred her hands and had rubbed away the dark eye bags that once stained her skin. The woman held herself as a marionette would; with perfect and poised hands, an unnaturally full smile, and empty eyes that squinted almost mechanically.

The sun had set by the time she spoke.

“So, how are you enjoying the event so far?”

Sylvee was never one for small talk.

“The event’s been fun!” was all he could say, even threw in a chuckle to dissipate the tension in the air.

“I’m glad, shame it ends in eight though”

Eight.

“Yeah, a real shame.”

Despite what most might think, Tommy could be very observant when it came to small details. Although, catching a slight such as that would be hard to miss.

Eight. What a lovely number, but for what? Eight days....months? And why didn’t she specify? Did she know?This conversation was already going downhill as it is, but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to look directly at her. He focused on the moon that sat miles across them, on the low recede of the waves and the sand merging with his skin. “Can’t believe it's already been four days ahaa..”

“Hey Toms,” she whispered. And maybe he shouldn’t have answered.

No, you’re not her. You don’t get to call me that.

When Tommy finally glanced at the imitation next to him, he fought to suppress a shiver at her cold smile. “Yes?”

/ban Sylvee_

/ban Sylve̦͖͋͐e_

/ba̡̺̘̒̀̊̐͐͜͟n͍̹̙̗͑̉̒̕ Sylve̦͖͋͐e_

/͎́̄ͅb̧̞̼͗̓̒a̡̺̘̒̀̊̐͐͜͟n͍̹̙̗͑̉̒̕ ͈̟̜̩̋̍͊͗Sy̫̣̒̑l̫̆v͓͎̩̄̂̄͛͢e̦͖͋͐ȇ̬_̳͖̦̤̄͗͗̑͡ͅ

/̴̠̙͇͑̊͊̽͂̔̑̇̉͗͗̂̈́̋̚p̶̳̲̪̭̫̻͔͚̝̰̜͐̈́͛̀͗͌̕a̵̘̰̝̤̬̦̹̥͈̟̙͒͋̊͐̔̅͊̍̈́̕͝ṟ̵̩̜͇͚̈́̅̌̕͜d̴̗͉͓̊̇̊̇͗̅̅͠ơ̸̢̧̧̩̜̟̖̲͓̣̟̼̏͛̎̀ņ̵̱͕͍̰̼̙̣̞́͗ ̴̨͈͙̝̪̇̍͒͋̽̚Š̸̨̢̡̥̩̮̩̤̙̼̙̫̃̎̅͜͝ÿ̵̨̧͉̝̲͙̝́̏̃̀͒̈́͛͂͘͝͝͝l̶̢̢̰̪̦̰̺̹̝͖̟̖͉͒̎́̈̂̽ͅv̷̢̱͓̙̣̗̤͉̫͎͔̱̀̄͜ͅĕ̸̯̻̤̺͇͎͇͕̪͕̫̙̭̯͑͆̄̔̌́̂̑̃͝e̵̘̩̺̗̘̗͕̺̬̱̍͗̔͑̾̂͗͆̕͘͝͠ͅ_̷̤̠̻̼͔̉̎͗̀͆́͂̇̿͠

“You.”

Oh no.

“Wilbur....hello,” this situation couldn't possibly get any more awkward. He never got to hear what Sylvee asked, she opened her mouth to speak but what came out seemed like a garbled mess of English. Something that sounded like….ziv dv ivzp? Maybe it was for the best that he didn’t know.

“Hey gremlin child,” the man grinned, though it seemed a bit off. “Oh hey Sylvee what brings you here?” Wilbur turned to face Sylvee so naturally, as if he was already painfully aware that she stood there.

“Just chatting with Thomas,” and the woman pulled herself to her feet and peeled the beach towel off the sand, gathering it in her arms. She then flashed Wilbur a smile that would make lesser men quake in their boots.

Thomas..she always did joke about my real name.

“I wasn’t aware you two knew each other,” and Wilbur displayed a terrifying smile of his own, silently responding to her challenge.

“Hmm, do we know each other Tommy?”

At that second, both adults swiftly turned their heads towards the teen — who was still sitting dumbly on the shore — and Tommy suppressed a flinch at how sharp their stares cut.

Their gazes felt like knives poking at his soft skin, like blades that could cut through glass. Which is really bad news for a blonde made out of paper.

“Uh,” and what could he say?

Don’t make me a liar, Tommy pleaded into the empty space of his mind. Yet, was it truly a lie? Whatever entity stood next to him proved an imposter of the woman he knew. It had stolen Sylvee’s face and slithered around in her skin, yet it failed to replicate her soul. And Tommy he-

He no longer trusted the woman he once called friend.

“Sorry Sylvee,” He made sure to appear embarrassed, scratching his head and sporting a small, dopey smile. “I’ve never met you up until now, I only know you from Tubbo.”

And when he said it, he thought it was true.

It obviously was the answer she expected, and even showcased her smugness with a satisfied glance at Wilbur. “It’s okay, I’ve only heard of you from Tubbo as well, he’s always talking about wanting to hang out with you again,” and though she smiled, Tommy could hear the warning laced into her words. “I’m gonna go now, have fun you two.” The stranger waved goodbye before turning and walking back along the shore, beach towel in hand and bleached hair falling past her shoulders.

He thought of the real Sylvee, the one he knew and befriended. The Sylvee who had her mind mercilessly ripped and torn into bits and pieces, then was stitched together into something unrecognizable. He wondered if her final moments were peaceful; he hoped and wished with every atom in his body that they were. Sylvee lived as a woman of worry and precautions.....she deserved to find peace.

After an excruciatingly long silence, Wilbur sighed, the sound so low and wispy that Tommy almost mistook it for a whistle. He looked to his right in time to catch the man melting into relief. The older’s shoulders drooped until his posture curved, sagging in an exhaustion that felt heavier than the situation seemed. He appeared satisfied with his strange victory, turning towards Tommy with another one of those weird fond smiles that made the blonde melt. The man whispered “hey” in a honey-teemed voice that reminded Tommy of a time when the world seemed oh so small.

When his universe stopped at a simple hto dog van parked next to a lake, where forests and grass greener than Dream’s hoodie went on for miles. To when the sky sang bluer than Tommy’s eyes, and Tubbo’s bee garden grew overplanted with an array of colorful flowers they’d picked together. Those faraway nights when Wilbur would lift his guitar off the thin wall and sing melodies into the starry sky.

Tommy daydreamed so vividly, lost too deeply into a forgotten world that he was caught off guard by Wilbur’s next sentence.

"Are you alright?”

The blonde shook out of his thoughts and shooed away the butterflies swarming around his head. “What do you mean by that?”

Wilbur’s face turned contemplative for a second. His eyebrows were drawn to where his nose scrunched up, and his mouth sunk downturned into a frown. It disappeared a moment later, replaced by eyes that seemed resigned and regretful.

“Tommy,” and Wilbur’s apprehension reached its climax, “where do you-“ he paused and backtracked on the question. The brunet took a few seconds to stare into space, doing what Tommy assumes was internally building up confidence, then made up his mind and opened his mouth to say those dreaded words: “You don’t stay in the caravans, do you?”

It was such a vague question, one that allowed Tommy the option of ignoring the elephant in the room. Or maybe even the chance to finally clear his overwhelming thoughts. He took the easier option. “So, what’s it to you?”

“It,I- I know that it’s none of my business but I was just trying to find you and-“ Wilbur looked uncomfortable for a second before slipping back into being concerned. “-then I asked around and realized that no one knew where you slept at night, and if you’re freezing in the cold then..”

Tommy still couldn’t wrap his mind around why Wilbur cared so much. Why did it matter if Tommy froze to death one night and woke up back in his hospital bed? Tommy knows he’s annoying at best, a public nuisance at worst, and lonely to the point where he spends most of his time clinging onto his one real friend. It was why he slept alone each night and fought off hypothermia each morning. He was ungrateful and selfish to push away every warm hand that offered to help, but he doesn’t deserve their help either.

The universe could knock the wind out from his breath, could kick the teeth into his head, and still, there’d be no cause for concern. All because Tommy is someone unworthy of love, and nothing could ever change that.

“You never met up with us and we didn’t see you at dinner, we just got worried I guess..” Over the months, Tommy had become a bit of a Wilbur translator. He knew brunet’s tells off by heart, from the man’s exaggerated facial expressions to how he tapped his foot when antsy and wrung out his hands when stressed. Tommy could hear the underlying meaning in Wilbur's words and reckons there must be some truth to the man’s answer. Wilbur was always one to worry, he had the wrinkles to prove it.

“I’m safe where I’m staying now,” he lied, and by the small twitch of Wilbur’s left eye, he knew the man picked up on it. “I might even turn in early for the night, I’m a little tired right now.”

In reality, Tommy sat wide awake and feared that he might not be able to clock enough hours of sleep tonight. The ocean waves had pushed past his knees and to his mid-thigh, the water growing colder each minute the sun wasn’t there to heat it. He wonders how long he’d been laying there, wasting the day away and losing hours of his 8 days left here.

8 days.

Each second spent alone ticked a second without Tubbo. He’d been so busy with the games and competition lately, all the pressure to perform was getting to him.

Tommy only realized that he’d zoned out after Wilbur threw a sandball at the back of his head.

A little sandball fight never hurt anyone.

The teen turned around angrily, taking in Wilbur’s lanky form as it shook with laughter and giggles. Tommy grunted and scooped up a sandball of his own, raising his hand and preparing to enact his revenge.

“You bastard!”

The squabble ended after a brutal battle where not even their faces were spared. Tommy had accidentally thrown a sh*t ton of sand into Wilbur’s mouth and the latter didn’t immediately spit it out. Instead, the weird fvcker started eating it, crunching it, and saying “you should try this, it's actually pretty good .” Tommy had been so grossed out that he dropped the sandball that was previously in his hand and gagged. He is never laying in the sand again.

The teen said goodbye, picking up his sand-heavy shoes by their laces and dusting off his sea-scraped legs.

After standing up, he noticed a message written in the sand a little ways away from where Wilbur sat on the shore. SBI, he read, then darted his eyes back to Wilbur who caught him staring at the letters. He let out an awkward chuckle and left Wilbur on the beach with a quick goodnight, then headed off towards the cafeteria to get some non-sand food for dinner.

Unlike yesterday, it was early in the night when he stepped out of the stairway and onto the 3rd floor. The elevator was still out of service, and the sweat dripping from his forehead only fueled his regret from breaking the thing.

White shoelaces were still clasped tightly in his hands, and salty droplets dripped with each step he took. The quartz floor was cool to the touch, and he suppressed a shiver when his bare feet met the cold surface as he walked.

The cafeteria seemed lively, and Tommy took a moment to settle into the chaos that was 30 idiots in a single, unsupervised room. MCC seemed like quite the rowdy event, but he thinks that the games don’t do the players justice.

The cafe had its own floor dedicated to it, and the relatively spacious area was filled to its walls with simultaneous chatter. The crowded atmosphere made it difficult for Tommy to hear his own thoughts, and even harder to find an empty seat.

Different teams intermingled with each other on the large round tables. Friends sat together after being separated for the games, with some teams sticking with each other and just chatting. It would be rather pleasant if a few specific individuals -cough, DTeam, cough -weren’t wrestling on the dining tables.

Tommy scanned the room for a place to sit, eyes catching on one of the calmer tables. Or at least what could even be considered as calm, each person in this tournament was chaotic in some way, shape, or form.

The pink parrots were having a small tea party in the corner, how they found a tea set in this mess, Tommy did not want to know. Scott sat next to a man with dirty blonde hair who Tommy recalled went by Grian. The blonde had a marvelous pair of wings on his back that reminded Tommy of Phil’s similar lavender ones. Except Grian’s resembled a parrot’s wings and stood out significantly more due to the vibrant feathers. The winged-man seemed to be holding a…..mini gong??

Moving on, the DTeam’s impromptu wrestling match caught the attention of Technoblade, who now stood across Dream in a duel that seemed to be escalating quickly. The pink and green duo stood opposing each other, exact opposites in everything but competitiveness. Techno whipped out his enchanted diamond sword while Dream spun his plain yet polished netherite axe, how typical of them. If Tommy didn’t know any better, he’d question how they snuck in such dangerous weapons that obviously weren’t for protection. But no one in that room feigned surprise so he wouldn't either.

Tommy tried not to stare so harshly at Dream’s netherite axe. It just resembled Nightmare so closely.

People began crowding around the two, even going as far as making a mini boxing ring by using the tables and chairs as barricades. Soon, the duo became the main show of the night, and almost the entire cafeteria was cheering them on. (Except for pink parrots, they were still having their tea party. British f*cks.)

They even had an announcer, otherwise known as, Sapnap with a microphone. (He bribed an Admin for it).

“Alright bitches, bros, and nonbinary hoes! It’s the first fight of the night and the third one of the week, the score is tied at 1-1! Y'all know the drill by now. No one can enter the ring, first to six wins claims victory over the other, and Dream can’t use George as a shield. With that aside, Technoblade The Pig VS Dream Was Taken. Begin!”

Sapnap then darted away to what looked like a betting table for the duel’s winner. Predictions were written down on clumsily cut pieces of paper in a messy pile of notes and pens. While some were placing their bets, most crowded around the ring, hooting in anticipation of the fight.

Dream dove for the first hit, swinging his axe at Techno’s feet in hopes of throwing the man off his balance. Techno, of course, dodged as if he’d expected the cheap move (which he probably did).

The mob began chanting names, and somehow Eret got hold of a smoke machine. It was wild out here.

Tommy saw the glint of light that reflected off of Dream’ Nightma- totally normal axe and couldn’t will himself to watch further. He turned his head to the side and set his gaze to the floor. It just....reminded him too much of the L’manberg War. And no matter how happily Tommy lived in that dream, the war was never in his fondest memories. He still felt the cruel ghost of an arrow lodged into his heart and the poisonous betrayal that plagued his trust. Dream’s ruthless laugh still bounced around in his skull and haunted his thoughts. Tommy knew exactly what Dream could do with an axe, and he couldn’t keep watching.

The duel continued but Tommy didn’t stick around for it. He backed away from the heated battle and spotted Tubbo a few tables away, speaking to Fundy.

He approached and was spotted fairly quickly. The two seemed a bit bored, maybe even tense. Fundy saw his chance to escape the strained conversation and darted to the duel as soon as Tommy stepped within two feet in front of the table. The man called out a quick “Talk to you later!” and disappeared into the crowd.

Tommy sat down across from Tubbo and gave the boy a questioning look.

“What was that about?”

“Oh nothing,” but the weary smile he gave said otherwise.

Did Fundy and Tubbo’s weird drama matter to him? Not really, but Tubbo’s mood seemed a bit soured by the ginger, and Tommy never liked grumpy Tubbo.

“Hey Tubbs,” he whispered, and thankfully the brunet’s tense aura seemed to soften at Tommy’s presence. His spine melted into a slouch, and his eyes drooped with an exhaustion that he thought should never belong to someone as good as Tubbo.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No, have you?”

“No,” and Tubbo darted his eyes away bashfully. “I was waiting for you,” he mumbled.

And damn, Tommy could burst into tears right there and then. Last night he sobbed over a lonely dinner under the cold moonlight, and tonight he had the chance to share a meal with his best friend. Could this day get any better?

Tommy’s surprise morphed into fondness and eventually, a bright smile. He outstretched his still slightly shaking hand towards his best friend.

And Tubbo, understanding instantly, caught the shaking palm with his own steady hands.

Tommy decided that he liked the cafeteria, it was loud and crowded, but that only helped to welcome him. He imagines that it’s what a high school cafeteria might’ve been like; friend groups doing stupid sh*t and dumb teens (or in this case, young adults) just having the time of their lives.

His thoughts wander back to the facility, where it usually ends up whenever he questions if happiness really exists. Tommy thinks of Krinios and Sylvee, if they'd be happy here; if they would want him to be happy here.

And if Tommy squinted hard enough, he'd see Sylvee's smile - her genuine one, not the puppet's - and he'd know that she would sacrifice absolutely anything and everything for him to be happy.

Chapter 15: A New Perspective! -Wait What

Chapter Text

He was cold.

Tommy could see his exhaled breaths as they floated up in puffs towards the sky. Almost subconsciously, he held his left hand with his right and felt a bit fascinated by the cold tips of his fingers. The next few seconds were spent mindlessly picking and prodding at the dry skin of his pointer finger. He moved his palms, rubbing his hands together before he felt even a smidge of warmth return to them. Despite shaking each time he spoke to someone, his hands held strangely still now. The pale skin was thick and coarse as if all the moisture in them froze into particles. He could see the greenish-blue veins that crawled up his forearms and wondered why they didn’t appear red.

Tommy sighed then slouched where he stood; the temperature was gonna be freezing tonight, even with a blanket. If he had to guess, it seemed about 12 Celcius right now, and would probably dip even lower in a few hours. Before he could ever think of surviving that kind of cold, he’d need to get better clothes and maybe a few more dozens of wooly blankets. He wonders if he’ll be able to survive the night this time if his well of luck had truly run dry. Considering how everyone was hunkering down for bed, he’d find out soon enough if Lady Luck had finally abandoned him, he had no other options after all.

His shoes were still soaked with seawater and probably weren’t drying out anytime soon. He’d go to the laundromat again if he could, but it felt like taking another step would cause needles to shoot through his foot. Walking around in semi-wet socks was something akin to torture, but apparently strolling while barefoot was a “safety hazard” or whatever the f*ck Scott had scolded him for. Tommy has burnt himself before in a dream by walking across rocky concrete in the summer, he could handle a little glass in his foot. Nevertheless, he wore the frozen (and uncomfortable) red and white socks just for Scott’s peace of mind.

The cold seemed to burn him. Biting at his knees and settling deep in his bones, which rattled and clattered together loud enough for Tommy to recognize the sound as his chattering teeth. Hundreds of tiny goosebumps rose on his arms, and even a light breeze of wind sent him into a harsh shiver.

After a bit of walking, something strange started to happen. Tommy felt a bit lightheaded, almost dizzy, even. The thing is, Tommy was a decently healthy teenager for this day and age. He’d never had problems when it came to simple things such as taking a step or two, but this dream seemed to be full of unexpected surprises. Even then, problems usually happened during the games or after a groundbreaking event, and Tommy had just been heading towards the hot chocolate stand before dinner. This wasn’t a symptom of the flu or cold, it had no explanation, and that fact made terror spike in Tommy’s already bleeding heart. The nonexistent walls around him were spinning and his upper body was swaying along with it. Suddenly the streetlamps were too bright for his eyes, and the loud chatter had grown too quiet. His legs weighed as heavy as lead when they stumbled and stuttered with each clumsy step he took.

He saw a familiar oak bench in the corner of his vision and nearly crawled to the thing. He sat down like a dead weight on a mattress, needing a few minutes to catch his breath and control his heartbeat. It thumped and thumped against his ribs and pulled at his pain receptors with each beat. The back of his skull throbbed and screamed in such agony that he could barely even think.

He couldn’t register anything around him, couldn’t physically bring himself to speak or respond to any outside stimuli in any way.

All he could do was sit and wait until the white blurriness from his vision faded back into colors, albeit saturated colors but color nonetheless. He waited until the somehow staticky cotton cleared from his ears, and until he could feel his arms and legs ache once again.

It took a few minutes but his heart ceased its palpitations, and the throb in his skull grew distant enough to think. The brightness in his vision dimmed until he could finally make out the pale blobs that were his cold and nearly blue hands. He exhaled another heavy breath and watched as it turned into another misty cloud of vapor. He didn’t die.

He didn’t die but it sure as f*cking felt like it.

He slumped even deeper into the wooden groves that pressed against his skin and no doubt left marks. Like the kind you’d usually get after a good nap, something Tommy really needed right about now. A thin layer of sweat clung to his skin, not too much where it soaked his clothes but enough to make him feel uncomfortable and frustrated. His fingernails scraped against the wood, digging into the jagged material and no doubt giving him splinters.

He sat there for who knows how long, unresponsive to the rest of the world. Shivering and cringing at the cold beads of sweat that clung to his face and back.

One could only imagine what he was thinking at a moment like this. What wisps of thoughts his brain was trying to latch onto and stitch together. In the end, it settled on the topic of Wilbur, and if he trusted the man or not. He did, he shouldn't.

Wilbur was not Tubbo. He didn’t do irresponsible teenage things with Tommy, didn’t brighten Tommy’s day with a joke, and didn’t make his day better by just being there. Wilbur was more like...a brother. One you don’t miss because you see them every day, expected to the point where it’d be weird if they weren’t there; someone who tries to annoy you and actively calls you a child because that’s all you are to him.

Yet, Wilbur cared. Wilbur cared like Tubbo does, maybe in a different way but he still did. But..was Wilbur real too? Up until now, Tommy refused to open that particular can of worms. But now that he had the time - and might possibly also die of hypothermia soon - he just might.

Wilbur acted human enough, not surprisingly though. He’d always had that sort of depth to him, the aura of a person who’d lived a life of meaningful moments, who’d experienced what it meant to feel pain and joy alike. If Wilbur really did have a soul, then it always seemed..tired. Sometimes Tommy could see it, through the void of Wilbur’s eyes or in the creases of his palms. How it would swirl the loud color of scarlet in pools of ruthless anger, only to fade moments after and circle to grey in wistful, smoky winds. There was a twinge of apathy that tinted him, one that Tubbo shared if only a bit more briefly.

And Tubbo…his soul glowed a faint light yellow that could only be looked at in awe. It spun in innocent excitement and emitted the simple blissfulness of youth. Tommy saw it clearly with each exaggerated movement his best friend would make and heard it in each passionate ramble that the brunet would often go on. Tubbo’s soul darted around with curiosity, with doe eyes that sparkled like stars, then could also slow with a gentle kindness that Tommy wished he could replicate.

He decided then that the traits he associated with them were each attached to a soul. Proof of living that Tommy could almost see and feel in each moment he spent around them. Tubbo- and Wilbur…were real, that was something he knew was undeniably true at this point. He’d doubted it at first. If you told him just a few days ago that they were real, he’d sneer and shout at you to stop getting his hopes up. He had no real evidence back then, maybe even right now, but he trusted Sylvee and Krinios. The two would never lie to or baby him, they knew better than to. Hanging onto that kind of mindset helped no one in their world, ignorance wasn’t an option. If they said they met in a dream, then they f*cking met in a dream and that was that.

Krinios was real, Tommy has gotten enough hugs and hair ruffles before to know it as a fact of life. Sylvee was real, her soul was the kindest he’d ever met (and he wasn’t the only one who’d say that). They were both real, tangible, and true. They were his hope; hope that the souls he saw in Tubbo and Wilbur weren’t a figment of his imagination.

And so that only begged the question, or the possibility, that every person in his dreams were real.

Not just Wilbur or Tubbo, but everyone .

This..was something he needed to think about more than he has. The four souls he just confirmed were easy, almost natural to recognize. He might need to try a bit harder with everyone else. So that’s what he did.

Defying what most would say, Tommy was capable of thinking. He was an overthinker, ironically enough. He has spent a lot of time just looking over his memories, rewinding and pausing them. He’d kept most of his childhood ones almost perfectly intact in this mind. He’s read about the term once - photographic memory - but that was before the book had been ripped from his hands and replaced with a crayon.

So he sat there on the bench, eyes closed and breathing slowed. Tommy straightened his posture as best he could, and sat cross-legged just to be comfortable - in some imitation of a meditative posture. He inhaled a lungful of hair before exhaling in an almost relieved sigh. Thinking was something he could do easily, though most people could, Tommy wanted to cling to the idea that his thoughts were somehow superior, maybe they were. Maybe he’ll sift through options- people and separate them into baskets, then attempt to make two categories labeled real? and fake?? (The soul kind, not the personality kind, probably). Or maybe his subconscious would drift back to the facility again, as his memories always do. Where will my thoughts take me this time, he thought, before promptly diving into the deepest corners of his mind.

Philza and Technoblade …he wasn’t sure just yet if they had souls. They weren’t particularly close to him, besides a few rare and fleeting moments of course. The two Antarctic Kings were always more distant than Wilbur was, but they certainly had character. Phil and Techno did things Tommy could never explain or understand, so the possibility was there. Two marked names on a mental list for Tommy to check later.

Scott… was friendly, sarcastic, a bit mean at times, yet he undoubtedly cared. Scott was the one who found Tommy that morning and asked him for help , an act that happened less often than Tommy would boast of, and too rarely for him to openly admit. That damned cyan-haired man treated Tommy as more than the loud child that everyone else saw him as, and no one had touched his heart like that in an unfortunately long time. A small checkmark on the list (one that he hoped he never had to erase).

Who else could he test his theory on - Dream? Niki? Well, Niki was definitely real, and Dream was a bit of a dick so Tommy didn’t know if he wanted the green teletubby to have a soul. But this theory was still that, a theory. An almost unbelievable one to believe - an unbelievable belief that this theory was not just a theory. Honestly, a lot of things didn’t line up, and rethinking everything was a decent challenge because..he’d never thought in this way before.

For all he’s been called a disruptive rebel who doesn’t care much for the rules, he hasn’t done much to oppose the facility. He’d taken in every piece of information they’d ever given him, absorbed the knowledge like a sponge because it was all he ever knew. He craved a lot of things - attention, affection, touch, validation - and knowledge was no different.

Because despite everything, the facility was filled with knowledge.

Rooms filled with old records and history books, labs run by volunteers, independent study groups that published their new findings on how the sun will affect Earth. Research book after research book was published and presented to the public, aka the small population of the facility. They were why Tommy and every other living being knew the planet had 8 months left.

The sun wasn’t yet exploding, they had a good 5 billion years to prepare for that. Instead, it was expanding, far faster than what they predicted decades ago. The Earth should’ve had another million years, and humanity might’ve not existed by the time the sun was set to start expanding. Perhaps someone at NASA miscounted how old their solar system was; since it seemed that the Milky Way was millions of years older than what they all thought.

It was a situation that frustrated Tommy, they were promised more time than they had. His great-great-grandfather should’ve been able to die peacefully...instead of falling and getting trampled while trying to contain one of the Snowchester Riots.

He had the photobook underneath his bed, the one his mother had gifted him two years ago when he turned 13.

...

APRIL 9, XXXXX

FLOOR 23, ROOM 1

UNDER WATCH OF GUARDS 20, 3, AND 8

It was Tommy’s birthday and his mother brought him a red balloon as a gift. The young blonde knew them from picture books and dreams, but here a coiled and thin string was tied around his wrist. The only thing lifting the long line was a helium-filled balloon. The newly established teenager was fascinated with the way it floated. He looked up in awe as his mother explained that if he cut the string, the balloon would fly to the ceiling like a magnet. He was half tempted to try it but decided he’ll wait until tomorrow.

He was so engrossed with the new object that he almost didn’t notice his mother slipping something under the blanket. He decided to touch it with his foot, and the first thing he recognized was the worn leather that was used to cover old books.

With a surprised expression, Tommy looked up to ask his mother what it was. His agape mouth twisted into a frown when he saw his mother’s eyes. The smile on her pale lips seemed strained and nervous, and the anxious look in her eye is what made him realize that this book was a secret. He glanced towards the door where the guard stood to watch them. Not guard, but watch. He quickly schooled his features into gratitude, and in a few seconds, he didn’t even need to fake it. His mother had trusted him with something that he clearly wasn’t allowed to have, it was a gesture that meant a lot in a tense place like the facility.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice dripping with something not quite joyful yet not too somber. The words were heavy and left the atmosphere thick with emotion. They let the words hang in the air for a minute before his mother let out a relieved sigh and ruffled Tommy’s dull blonde hair. She gave him a small smile, a thousand words unspoken, words she could only whisper to him in the dead of night. He gave a tentative smile back, pressing his big toe against the old book as proof it was still there.

His mother left his room an hour later when the guards announced that her time was up. He watched as she walked slowly towards the door, she appeared so calm that Tommy almost overlooked the violent shake of her hands as she held them in front of her. Yet she held her head high, chin up and her blue-gray eyes stared straight ahead.

She reached the door and stopped for a moment, a second passed and she lowered her hands back to her sides, clenching them into fists that quivered. He heard her shudder with each breath, and eventually after what felt like a lifetime of watching his mother’s final moments, she spoke.

“ Love you, Toms .” His mother never looked back to sneak one last glance at him, and Tommy, even after all these years, did not blame her.

Tommy didn’t know that she was passing down a family secret until 5 hours later when he opened the book in the dark of his bedroom. He waited 2 hours after the doors had locked to ensure the coast was clear, and dove under his blanket to get a better look at what was there. The book had undone straps and buckles connected to it, the length of the stretchy material was enough to wrap around a waist. That was probably how his mother had snuck it in, somewhere under her dress that Tommy only now realized looked puffier than normal.

It was a little longer than his hand and at least one inch thick. He picked it up and was surprised at how light it was, definitely lighter than he’d expected. He lifted the cover to his face with his left hand and dusted it off with his right. The brown leather felt rough and dry under his fingertips, it was a texture Tommy had only touched once before on a book he found hidden at the back of his 5th-grade classroom’s bookshelf.

As he opened the leather-bound book, he discovered it was a photo album of a family in the 2000s, yet it seemed so different from the pictures they were shown in history class.

The photographs they would project on the classroom wall showed anarchy in the city streets, buildings set on fire, and corpses sleeping on the concrete floor. The pictures in this album were different though. The family was small, just a father and his three sons. They were in unusual clothing, even for their era. The father was blonde with blue eyes that reminded Tommy of his own, he wore a black hoodie with a strange heart icon on the top right that bled a bright red, similar yet more saturated than the current red-orange sky, and on the man’s wrists lay sweatbands with the same logo. The two sons were identical twins, both with brown hair and brown eyes. One of the brunet’s hair was curlier than the other’s, and a closer look would reveal that their noses were of different shapes. If Tommy had to guess, the two twins were adopted.

That wasn’t what caught Tommy’s attention, instead it was drawn to the third son, the youngest. He was dressed in a red and white T-shirt with strikingly blonde hair - a similar shade to the father’s if a bit more sandy in color - and bright blue eyes that Tommy recognized with a sinking feeling of dread. A feeling that increased with a short study of the printed face that smiled up at him in a clear expression of contentment. They were the same eyes that Tommy saw each time he looked in the mirror, paired with the same features that were contorted in shock at that very moment. The same curve of the nose, the same mole on his right temple, and the same gap between his two front teeth that always whistled.

This young boy was his great great grandfather, and though such news should have just been slightly surprising, it was instead entirely horrifying. Because Tommy Innit’s great great grandfather, Thomas Watson, adopted a kid he named Shroud before dying at 19. He never passed on his genes, it was entirely impossible.

Yet here Tommy was, a living breathing replica of his grandfather.

(Tommy didn’t know until the morning after his 13th birthday that his mother had passed away peacefully in her sleep, and cleanly cremated an hour later. He never got to see her ashes.)

...

There was a number that kids were taught growing up. Large cut-out colorful pieces of paper that were stapled to the bulletin board in small - otherwise undecorated - classrooms.

0.0002%

That was the percentage that was repeated in every retelling of history. Printed thousands of times on crisp pages and scribed neatly in countless notebooks. A number that’s been ingrained so deeply into his skull, a reminder of how much humanity has lost, and just how many of them were left.(Tommy didn’t have to do the mental math, he knew by heart that 0.0002% of 7.4 billion was 14,800. A...tragically low population. ) Yet, Tommy’s theory was that every person in his dreams was a real person. The only flaw in this was that...some worlds he visited would have way more people inhabiting them. Hypixel had significantly more than 14,800 players, that was a definite. Did that mean some people were real and some- didn’t exist? And how was he meant to know? Was he meant to go up to every person and ask if they had a soul or not? Even then, any entity pretending to be a person would of course answer that they were real, or would make a report to the facility, what if he chose the wrong person to trust? - Who could he trust?

Breaking his spiraling train of thoughts, Tommy looked up at the moon and gave an empty chuckle. It was barely even there, just a sliver of a crescent, really. He blinked and it seemed to shine brighter, or maybe Tommy’s vision was still adjusting from blurring itself white. The moon was in the last stages of being a waning crescent. If he recalled the phases correctly, then tomorrow it’ll be.. uh, hold on…..

“...Gibbous,” he began to mumble, using his fingers to count. “ - Third quarter, waning crescent, then…...new?” Wait, new moon!

Tommy internally cheered at his own memory, smiling outwardly for a bit before the situation eventually began to set in.

There will be a new moon tomorrow. The pride that came with remembering that piece of information soon faded, settling into pure dread. Tommy felt something slide around in his stomach, except it was nothing like fluttering butterflies or moths. It felt sinister and dark, like thousands of parasites crawling around in his guts. Scattering along his bones and gnawing ay his heart. Something was going to happen tomorrow, he could feel it.

It even seemed like the ẁ̶̬̈ȯ̵͔͠r̵̢̻͒̑l̵̛̟͙̕d̶̲̪̓͛ itself was telling him that something big was coming, whispering secrets through the wind and hiding them in his bones and flesh. Each cloud looked like it wanted to sink towards him̷͚̐ͅ, the trees leaned and arched in h̵̯͕̑̇i̴͖͐̕s direction, and even the ocean waves looked close to grabbing at his̸̡͔̓́ ankles. The world reached towards him, grasping at his mind desperately, almost as if it was begging.

Then the world began to stutter. The scenery panned in choppy frames and distortions, ticking by in slow frames. RGB colors started to bleed out from the sky, pouring into an overflow that ran down the stars and dripped heavily onto the pavement below. Something was wrong. His heartbeat spiked and he could distantly hear his heart rate monitor rapidly beeping as if calling out to him. Was he dying? He felt like he was dying, again . Everything around him was just spinning an d spinning an d spinning unti̴̛̥̹̇̑͒͗̐l̸͚̜̮̫̓́̒͘.̷̨͓̜̺͙̏͘.̴̨͖̦̭͍͔̮̏̑̑̑̄͊̃̎.̶̧͔͍̼͛͛̌̑̎̀͋́

The world flickered back to life.

Trees went back to swaying back and forth in the wind, and the night sky was a dark blue that looked a few shades away from turning black. People resumed their quiet chatter and he could hear the distant folk music coming from the caravans.

Yet Tommy was reeling, his heart palpitated in his chest and the migraine in the back of his skull only throbbed and worsened as the seconds went by. His lungs struggled to intake air as breathing felt like spikes stabbing his lungs. He was huddled against the seat part of the bench, wood just a centimeter away from the tip of his nose - trying to calm his racing heart for the second time that night. People might be watching him right now, they may even be concerned, but Tommy had no energy to even consider what this looked like to everyone else.

After what felt like hours of choking on air and forcing oxygen into his system, his breathing had calmed down. It hadn’t quite evened out just yet but slowed to the point where he was no longer hyperventilating. The blonde let his eyes slip closed as exhaustion finally took over, lowering his forehead to rest on the rigid planks of the bench. He hunched over, forearms pressed into the rough bark and caging in his head, allowing himself even just a moment of recovery.

Despite the serene calm of the moment, it still felt like crows were waiting inside him, nibbling at his guts and brushing their sharp feathers against his soft stomach. A murder sat patiently along his ribcage. They were waiting for the day they could rip him up from the inside.

Waiting for the day they could freely escape into the world, screeching and soaring into an inky black swirl of a flock.

Waiting for death to arrive.

...

...

...

NEW PERSPECTIVE UNLOCKED: THE CREATOR

...

A little ways away, the forest that bordered the caravan campsite seemed to part open a path. A brown-haired boy in a green button-up shirt took that barely-there path, carelessly walking down it. He hummed and hopped with an amused smile, his gaze glued to the night sky. The boy chimed a soft giggle at a thought only he would ever know, and the stars seemed to twinkle brighter at the innocent sound of laughter.

The trees began shifting behind him; with trunks that expanded to grow thicker and thicker, branches slithering to wrap around them like brown snakes, and thinner green vines intertwining to hang from the leaves. The greenery closed together so densely that not even a pesky bird or parrot could squeeze between the tight cracks. More trees grew from under the boy’s feet, a seed planted with every light step he took. A natural thicket replaced the once clear opening, making it look like there was never a path there in the first place.

The brunet skipped and cackled with a terrifying kind of glee, continuing on his way down the mysterious path.

Chapter 16: Talk to Me

Chapter Text

Tommy couldn't help but feel like it was somehow his fault.

(Last night, when the world glitched, he said nothing. He carried on with the night, stood shakily on his two skinny legs, and wobbled over to Niki’s hot cocoa stand for a drink. The burn of heated porcelain against his palms had grounded him a bit, and that was enough at the time; it didn’t give him the courage to tell someone else about what he saw. He drank his hot cocoa, returned the mug, and foraged the land for spare blankets or another place to stay for the night. His search consisted of stealing some spare towels from the beach house and hovering at the edges of the campsite. Ever since last night, Wilbur’s concern had lingered in the back of his mind, and Tommy would die before admitting that he was kinda considering it. He couldn’t help but think about what it would be like, sharing a caravan again; this time with no revolutions or wars, just some domestic camping together. Could anyone blame him for wanting that?

But no matter, the little voice in his head - which sounded suspiciously like a guy named Bruno - finally got to him. Because Wilbur didn’t need to worry about Tommy, no one did. He was doing just fine on his own. It was always only him, no one to fall back on, and he was okay with that for the most part.

Tommy backed away from the camp, but not without thinking about the hundreds of what-ifs that swarmed his mind. Then, with his stolen towels - and a random jacket he found lying in the sand - he trudged his way to that wretched daybed he chose on the first night. The blonde settled down in the same blanket from before and layered the towels on top in hope of some makeshift insulation. The pillow he rested against was cold against his cheek; he didn't shiver.)

Even when the sun came up in the morning, the light felt fake against his skin, and the early day air numbed his cheeks. The mega-speakers had just announced the delay of the third game, and Tommy’s groggy mind could barely register the reason said.

“....We apologize for the delay. However, it is for a matter of great importance.” Scott’s voice boomed through the speakers, and the pit of dread that'd already been growing in Tommy's stomach had increased tenfold.

“One of our players has gone missing, and we are currently looking into this safety issue. Fundy was last seen at the cafeteria last night, his team reported that he never arrived at the caravans." Tommy caught the split second waver in the cyan-haired man's voice, it was brief, but it was there. "Report all details to me, Wilbur, or any member of Noxcrew. We understand that this situation is worrisome, but please go on with your days as normal.”

The announcement had done more than shake Tommy wide awake, he felt like the devil had crawled up from hell just to personally punch Tommy in the lungs. It seemed to have the same effect on everyone else as well, causing a hushed silence to fall over the beach. The atmosphere quickly turned anxious as whispers floated throughout the hub; a young brunet's eyebrow twitched in annoyance while a blonde's shot up his forehead.

Tommy was still processing it all, unsurprisingly. (He’d just woken up for f*cks sake). Yet, to believe that Fundy went missing when Tommy had just seen the man yesterday -

'Tubbo might’ve been the last person to talk to Fundy,' they were arguing, 'maybe he could help?' But concern was washed over by doubt. Tommy recalled the tense air in an otherwise comfortable cafeteria, downturned lips curled from the aftershock of a nasty argument. Despite how long he’s known the brunet, Tommy has rarely ever seen Tubbo truly, deeply angry. Hell, the glimpse of genuine irritation that Tommy saw last night was enough to scare him sh*tless - and Tubbo was probably hiding most of it! Would it be wise to ask?

Tommy he..has done enough as it is, he should stay out of it.

After all, Tubbo could report his sighting of Fundy himself,it wasn’t Tommy’s job to do that. Yeah, Tubbo would do it himself. Will he?

Still, it was worrying. A player going missing? That was entirely unheard of, people don’t just disappear without a word, that only happens in sh*tty horror movies. The area around the lobby was blocked by either dense forest or deep ocean, and there were no other islands for miles. Tommy could admit that he was never the closest to Fundy - it was always either Wilbur or Niki that filled the two spots on either side of the ginger - but the guy was still a good friend; at least, Tommy remembered them as such.

As Wilbur’s “son” (an inside joke that Tommy never really got) Fundy would always be stuck babysitting or following Tommy around to make sure he didn’t get in trouble. (Even though technically Tommy was considered his uncle and it should’ve been the other way around. Plus, the guy really only enabled Tommy’s chaotic nature, not a good call honestly.)

Fundy was funny, a prankster of a man (or fox, Tommy didn’t know), and a lot sharper than people gave him credit for. He was so persistently stubborn sometimes that it was almost painful to watch; yet strangely, very inspiring to see. A lot of Tommy’s memories of the man included his brilliant inventions and the countless tries it took to get them right. The guy was creative; mischievous, and more often than not used his tech for rather humorous means. Even if his skills went towards stupid pranks and jokes, redstone was something the ginger was clearly very passionate about. There were many quiet nights where Tommy would walk by Fundy’s “not a secret base” base with a thin blanket in hand, often near the door and straining to hear the muffled clangs of metalwork and cuss words that he'd begun to associate with his friend. Along with the heart-shaped smile that became a familiar and comforting sight for a lot of people, Tommy included. Fundy’s missing status was a sin of the universe - outright wrong; he would never leave without warning, the idiot loved his friends too much for that.

So what - or who - exactly happened?

Tommy had been pacing from one end of the shore to the other, practically creating a shallow trench in the sand. He hoped it'd eventually be used as a moat for some sandcastle, maybe then he'd be useful for something, even if it was as trivial as moat making. He'd been mulling over the situation for the past 18 minutes, and ten of those minutes were spent sitting at the edge of his daybed, the last eight minutes spent restlessly kicking the sand. Tommy sighed, he just couldn’t sit still, and unfortunately nor could the ever-increasing nerves that were continually setting fires under his skin.

His mind was littered with demons and devils, each one of them cheering and chittering at different volumes each day. Stress and Anxiety seemed to be talking with each other again, and normally it's bearable chatter in the back of Tommy's head; but apparently, today was karaoke morning, and that meant they'd be screaming out multiple metaphorical lungs for the whole day. It didn’t help to know that Panic would probably arrive fashionably late and sing a head-banging rock song loud enough to send Tommy into an attack, f*cking fantastic. Every unpleasant and distressing emotion ever known to man seemed to be showing up to the Filipino karaoke party in his worry-teemed head, and Tommy just wished he could pull the plug on the microphones and kick everyone all out.

He was alert yet so utterly exhausted all at once, so jumpily sleepy that his thoughts were speaking in oxymorons. He needed to let some pent-up energy out, just - something to slow the lightning bouncing around in his bones. Blue eyes darted around, landing on the distant rectangular sign in the corner of his vision.

Might as well, he thought, and the blonde walked towards the watercourse at the right end of the beach. 'Parkour Warrior'read the sign as his bare feet scraped against the wooden planks of the dock. Time to swim his problems away (and hopefully flood that damned karaoke room).

He began stretching - the facility’s PE teachings were not lost on him - and once he deemed his muscles warmed up enough, broke out into a run as he jumped onto the first platform of the course.

After a couple of jumps and a lot of splashes into the water, Tommy discovered that he wasn’t the only one blowing off some steam. Quite a bit ahead of him, Dream was running at the walls like a madman; hopping from ledge to ledge like some kind of superhuman. His white mask rested on the right side of his head, probably pushed there to provide some kind of relief to his sweaty face. His green hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and the sleek black fingerless gloves he usually wore had been replaced with tight bandages that probably provided a better grip.

Tommy always knew the masked man was athletic and agile, he just didn’t often see it in action. The man usually only displayed it in heated fights and well, Tommy didn’t exactly enjoy watching those. But now, Dream was light on his feet as he hopped from ladder to ladder as if weightless; jumped neos around pillars as if they weren’t even there, seemingly uncaring of the deep waters that were meters below. If Tommy weren’t immediately embarrassed at just the thought, he’d say that Dream was born to have the title of “parkour warrior.”

Almost as if he’d read Tommy’s mind, green eyes glanced to the side and Dream froze for a second too long - midair from a jump - when he spotted the teen that’d been watching him. Tommy could see the moment Dream’s focus faded away, replaced with something akin to shock as his slip-up dawned on him through the increasingly closer water below. The calm waves were interrupted with a splash, and the man disappeared underwater for a few seconds before breaking the surface with a deep intake of air (and a somewhat concerning coughing fit).

The man soon recovered from his unplanned swim, climbing back onto the platform he fell off of while looking like a dripping wet dog. In the time it took for Dream to get back onto the course, Tommy had been able to catch up. Dream glanced up at Tommy and appeared almost…panicked. Tommy felt like something about the older was off, the man was a bit too anxious than normal. As if supporting all of Tommy’s suspicions, Dream immediately sprang back into action and began speedrunning the parkour twice as fast as before.

“Wait!” Tommy called, taking off right after him, and Dream didn’t even spare the younger a glance as the f*cker started practically sprinting through the jumps. It was annoying, and maybe even a bit confusing, but Tommy was never one to back down from a challenge.

Tommy clumsily and just barely made his way through the stages as Dream kept up his relentless run, essentially making his previous record-breaking pace look like a leisurely stroll. Tommy’s shouts of “Slow down you green bastard!” only seemed to spur the masked man on even more. Dream truly was a runner, a track star.

He chased Dream for what felt like forever; hopping around clumsily on uncoordinated limbs, a stark contrast to Dream’s graceful leaps. Jesus f*cking Christ does this guy even breathe?? Tommy’s limbs burned, his heart raced loudly in his ears, and yet his grin nearly matched the one on Dream’s smiley mask. For once, he wasn’t running with temporary death on his mind, this was a completely competitive run now, and his legs moved faster and faster as exhilaration filled up his lungs.

Slowly but ever so surely, Tommy caught up to the superhuman (don’t ask him how, he doesn’t know either) until the iconic bright green hoodie was right between his fingertips. The fabric brushed his palm, and Tommy stopped in place and pulled with all his might - effectively yanking Dream backward like a ragdoll. Even more surprisingly, Dream let out a frightened yelp - sounding strangely similar to a kicked puppy - and fell comically on his ass onto the platform.

The guy struggled for a bit, not quite getting that Tommy had him by the hood as he tried getting up only to fall back down again. After a while, the older defeatedly slumped down in his spot, most likely accepting his fate. Dream turned to face Tommy with apprehension ruling his features. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was twisted into a strained but wobbly smile. His eyes were closed as if not being able to see Tommy would make the incoming awkward conversation easier, and sweat dripped down the side of his face like bullets. Tommy let go of the hoodie, figuring that Dream was smart enough to know when to give up; trusting that the man wouldn’t bolt if Tommy so much as blinked. Dream chuckled a nervous laugh - obviously a bit mortified at being caught - and maybe Tommy was starting to feel a bit bad for the guy until remembering the 10 minutes of running he did for him, this was entirely fair.

“H– Hey Tommy what’s up man?” Dream tried (and failed) to sound nonchalant, even going as far as leaning against a nearby pole in some faux casual sitting position, legs crossing in front of him and hands awkwardly holding the back of his head.

“Oh nothing much, just chasing an asshole because he started running in fear as soon as he saw me.” Tommy deadpanned, chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Holy f*ck he already regrets everything, his knees could buckle any minute now.

“Wow, you were chasing me? I never noticed aha,” bullsh*t.

“I dunno man, you clearly saw me back there when you took an unplanned scuba trip and climbed out like a dripping dog,” Tommy was salty, sue him.

“Psshh don’t assume I saw you” This mf.

“We literally made eye contact”

“I wear a mask”

“It’s been pushed to the side this entire time”

“f*ck”

“L”

Dream sighed, some of the nervous tension leaving his shoulders in a look of utter defeat. He slouched against the pillar, wistfully looking off into the distance like some angsty Disney princess about to burst out into song. Oh gods no, not today.

“Dream,” and they hummed in response, “do you have any clue what happened to Fundy?”

The masked man looked contemplative for a second, each inch of his face so openly telling that Tommy could practically hear his thoughts. Dream wears a mask during war times because his face has always been too expressive - a fatal weakness during a Sky Battle round or one of his many Manhunts. His voice could be controlled seemingly effortlessly, to the very last drop of a syllable and the pitch of vibrato in a hum. But his face has always betrayed that; too genuine, leaving nothing to hide, and very unfortunate in moments such as these. With a clear view of Dream’s barely suppressed frown, Tommy already knew the answer to his question.

“You do know, don’t you?”

“...”

“And you won’t tell anyone else,” the blonde guessed with disappointment.

“...”

The silence already answered enough, but perhaps Tommy was tired of vague notes and world-altering glitches. He wanted a direct response, words uttered aloud as proof that he hasn't been going mad.

“Were you the one that did it?”

Tommy knew that Dream would never, the man was a frustratingly good person. Even during the Disc and L'manberg wars, the man was only fought because he wanted the best for everyone, the situation only got so dire because of Tommy's blind persistence in winning the war. The facility was never kind to him, and even after being shown healthy relationships in his dreams, he was never taught how they worked. He only knows how to carefully word his manipulation, to at least use his toxicity in search of the truth; even if it meant accusing a friend of something horrible.

“Wait," Dream's jaw dropped in silent shock, "what”

“That’s it isn't it, you got rid of Fundy to get a better MCC player didn’t you?”

“Nono no-no that’s not - ”

“Fundy was your friend!" Our friend, "You monster! -”

“Wait, I swear I didn’t do it!” You didn’t.

“Then what are you hiding?”

“Nothing, I swear!” but Dream was visibly clamming up, hands raising in front of himself pleadingly. Good, Tommy internally cheered, then flinched at his own thought. He hated that this accusing was working, and that Dream was more strung up than he’d originally thought, even if it worked in his favor.

“How can I believe you? When everyone knows that you're Mr. MCC statistics and apparently a Parkour Warrior sweat, it’s not even a game in the event!”

“I wouldn’t eliminate my own teammate to win? And it used to be, stop rubbing it in!”

“Memememe I’m DreAm, I lose to The Blade in cafeteria duals and hide weak players in the forest for a better team score - ”

“That sounds nothing like me! - ”

“But it's true! Did you even know Fundy at all, or was he just disposable to you?"

"..."

Tommy saw the moment his venom reached Dream's heart. The previous defensiveness in those emerald eyes had shattered in an instant, and in the irises, Tommy could almost even see the scab of an all-too-recent wound. Dream's shoulders dropped - like the strings that'd been holding them up had snapped and fallen - while his head lowered too, and Tommy was selfishly glad the man's heartbroken expression was hidden behind dirty blonde waves. The next words were uttered hoarsely and mournfully, from a place buried in old, untouched insecurities. Ones that Tommy had no right to dig up.

"Fundy...proposed to me once," the man spoke, "it was on a stupid platonic dinner date where all he wanted was to show me his favorite childhood movie, and I did," a wet chuckle, "...I did, and the film was okay, too confusing for a younger me to have understood, but he based our whole wedding around it like the absolute dork that he was." Dream paused, a simple pitter-patter told Tommy why, "and I know it's cliche but my wedding was the happiest day of my life."

Dream finally lifted the head that'd been hung heavily low below his shoulders. His whole body was subtly trembling, his chest rising in deep, controlled breaths; and, with an expression that Tommy couldn't read as solely rage or sorrow, Dream croaked out quietly but powerfully: "I wouldn't have said yes if he meant nothing to me, Tommy."

The teenager in question was fumbling for a response. Tommy should say something, he needs to. After all, he's finally made a breakthrough in answers, farther than he's ever been so far. Dream just admitted to a memory he shouldn't know, an event that Tommy himself was there for and wasn't meant to remember either - the wedding. But Dream doesn't yet know that, making this an opportunity served to Tommy on a salty silver platter. The next logical move would be to play dumb and comfort Dream to fish for more information. An opportunity that a monster his counselor would take.

"Maybe you wouldn't have, but you still fought against him in the war, fought against us," Tommy whispered instead, his own confession to match Dream's. The air between them shattered as the sky crackled. Rain began pelting from the ash-gray clouds above, each droplet sharp and cold against their skin. Thunder rumbled and roared out painful cries around them as Dream's shocked eyes met Tommy's regretful ones. He witnessed the man’s face contort from muted anger to pure unadulterated horror faster than it would take for a teardrop to roll down a cheek. All casualness in Dream's stance had seeped out and dissipated into the stormy air, the jumpiness from earlier settling back into his limbs. Dream looked like a deer in headlights, a deer whose trust had just been used to skin him alive. It only hit Tommy then, he caused that.

“Dream -” he started. But by the time he opened his mouth to apologize, the man had already vanished into thin air.

Dream remembered.

Instead of the satisfaction Tommy should’ve felt from getting the answer he wanted, the taste on his tongue was bittersweet. Reminders of the method he used felt like sludge in his guts. It felt icky and so very wrong to do, but he needed an answer - and how else would he have gotten it? Surely, there was no other way. If there was he would've been able to think of it...if there was, he would've chosen that option, surely he was capable of that. Dream would've never answered him honestly if Tommy just asked, right? But what if he just asked.

Besides the immense guilt that was closing around his throat, Tommy still felt majorly conflicted, but by another spiral of thoughts, one that was older. A feeling that'd long ago sunk to the deepest canyons of his heart was bubbling up again. An inky current of grudges so illogical, so purely emotional that Tommy berated himself for even still having such thoughts. Yet the emptiness inside him was so vast and weightless that the thought echoed throughout his chest and bounced off the rough walls of his lungs.

Dream was the one who shot me.

Tommy’s heart ached at the reminder.

Tommy doesn’t remember much after that. He might’ve lifelessly stood there for another hour or so; might've sparked up in anger again, finished the actual parkour course he was standing there for. All he knows is that the sunlight felt fake, artificial against his skin; that warmth evaded him for the rest of the day.

He sees glimpses of it. Water that felt too light to be real, sand between his toes that felt imaginary, the gaping hunger that'd been growing in his stomach. He didn’t visit the cafeteria the whole day, it was a painful reminder of the friend who went missing. He remembers watching the sunset and hoping it would lift his mood. But the colors of dawn looked a little dull this time, and the usual cold air refused to bite at his face. It wasn’t until after he fell asleep (even if he doesn’t remember doing so) that his head finally cleared again.

He could hear a voice calling his name. However distant and muffled it was, he still heard it. Prying open blue eyes that’d been blurry all day, Tommy felt like he could finally see again. Wilbur was there, shock and worry dripping off his stupid dumb face, and Tommy must be feeling better again if he could think of insults to say (however bland those insults were.)

“- ommy?” Wilbur’s annoyingly deep voice filled his senses. It felt like the light thuds and taps of rain against a window in autumn, like obscure scented candles and cinnamon spice pies.Tommy peered upwards, blinking the bleariness away as Wilbur sighed. “Thank f*ck you’re alive,” the man mumbled, and Tommy could almost visibly see the relief dripping off the brunet’s shoulders.

“Oi, why wouldn’t I be?” Tommy said dumbly, very dumbly.

“Oh, I dunno maybe because it’s f*cking freezing???” Funnily enough, now that Wilbur mentioned it, Tommy realized that the numbness he shrugged off earlier had faded, and his sudden awareness of everything was quickly rocketing towards some good ol' heightened stress.

The scratchy texture of the pillow, the thousands of grains of sand on his skin, the stiffness of his salty hair, the throbbing ache in his limbs. His stomach felt like it was eating itself - when was the last time he ate? He didn’t even know what hour it was, the sky was pitch black with no stars to watch. The whistle of the wind, the thumping of Wilbur’s shoe, the rustling palm leaves the back and forth crashing waves the chatter in the distance the ticking of a watch it was all too much -

A hand brushed his shoulder, and Tommy jerked back as if he was burned. He couldn’t stop hearing the clashing noisiness of everything happening all at once; drowning in the sights and sounds that overwhelmed him into a loud panic. The tiki torch behind Wilbur was too bright and blinding, the orange stalls in the distance so saturated that his eyes pulsed, and the Decision Dome became a vomit of colors that contrasted loudly next to the deep shade of the sky. The rough denim of his pants seemed increasingly coarse, and the hem of his shirt was irritatingly digging into the skin of his neck. For a moment, Tommy cried for the numbness to come back.

He closed his eyes shut and hoped they would never open again, pushing his shaking hands so forcefully against his ears that it felt like he was squeezing his skull. Yet the muffled sounds continued to claw at his eardrums, and the white dots dancing behind his eyelids made him feel dizzy. His frustration escaped in the searing hot tears that were building up at the corners of his eyes.

/tp TommyInnit WilburSoot 2085, 15208518, 19945

Then a shift in location.

The cold clawing at his face then ceased, and when Tommy dared to open his eyes there was no nighttime shore. The surface he sat upon was soft and fluffy, and the only sound entering his ears were his own labored breaths. Where? -

Blue eyes darted around, studying the light cream color of the walls and the apparent coziness of the furniture. The decor was simple if not a little bland, only a small mess lay moderately scattered across the floor. His surroundings appeared to be a modest room adorned with wooden kitchen cabinets. Concluding that he was in one of the caravans, Tommy glanced down and saw that he was sitting snugly on a soft couch and wrapped up in a wooly gray blanket, a texture he agreed was much more soothing than the previous itchy cotton.

Tommy’s heartbeat began to slow thanks to the new environment, his breaths became more drawn out as the noises that rattled in his ears faded. That was when he noticed Wilbur sitting cross-legged next to him, a pensive look on his face.Tommy slowly tore his hands from his head and blinked away the tears that'd been gathering at the corners of his eyes. Wilbur seemed to finally snap out of it then, lifting his chin to see that the teen had calmed down a little. The man exhaled with relief, the weight of it seeming like something he'd been holding for hours.

“Are you okay?” Wilbur spoke so softly that the screeching of the blonde's mind began to quiet.

“I…what happened?” Tommy asked and truly didn’t know. One second he was freaking out on the beach and the next he was in a caravan on the other side of the map.

“Well..” Wilbur glanced downwards, “...are you alright?”

Tommy followed the man’s gaze and landed upon - oh, my hands are shaking. The blonde looked up again, already preparing to lie his ass off and say he was fine, but the trust flowing from Wilbur’s face made him hesitate. The guilt from earlier gripped his throat, and the brunet must’ve seen the same feeling in someone else before because in the next breath he spoke:

“I…I worry about you kid. No one knows where you go at night or even during the day, you've only been seen attending dinner once and it's been days, and the worst of it is that even if we do reach out, you lie to us. You do, and it's not okay, and I'm sorry that I'm too late in calling you out on it," Wilbur paused, letting it settle into Tommy's remorse-ridden bones before continuing to plead. "Please, we're always going to be here for you, kid, you just need to help us out a bit and agree to talk."

At this, Tommy’s heart began to bleed a river of grief he didn’t even know he was harboring. Because Tommy Innit hasn’t been a kid ever since his mother died, but he’s spent the rest of his life yearning to be one again. The tremors in his hands seemed like earthquakes shaking his core - ones powerful enough to make magma rise and breach the surface. Lava burst from his soul in a moment so blinding he swore he saw their expanding sun; and under all that pressure, Tommy melted.

His voice came out in a warble so broken that he saw Wilbur flinch at the pure anguish it held. Tommy tried to speak again but all that left his throat were gasps and half-finished words. Yet, Wilbur sat, patient and listening, and it frustrated Tommy, that the other could seamlessly understand his pained wails when Tommy himself couldn’t even understand them.

“Talk to me,” Wilbur whispered, his voice so gentle it could caress the clouds.

And Tommy, loud and talkative Tommy, for once in his life couldn’t muster up the energy to speak.He croaked and he whimpered, but not enough to form the words that he didn’t know how to say. But somehow, through Tommy’s strangled noises, Wilbur understood. He translated the teen’s silence so perfectly Tommy almost thought he managed to say it aloud. The brunet turned his body to face the younger and lifted his dangly Wilbur-brand-noodle arms with a wobbly smile: an invitation of comfort that Tommy didn’t deserve.

Yet he dove headfirst into it anyway.

Tommy all but collapsed in Wilbur’s secure hold, unshed tears finally breaking through the high dam.

“You don’t have to be a hero to save the world,” his brother mumbled, low and barely clear enough for Tommy to hear. The older's hands shook tightly from where they held the blonde close, and Tommy could hear his brother’s heartbeat as his head lay pressed against the brunet’s chest.

“It doesn’t make you a narcissist to love yourself."

Wilbur seemed doubtful of his own words. The man’s voice wavered and trembled as if he was trying to convince himself too. Though the concept sounded entirely outlandish, Tommy clung to those words like a lifeline.

“It feels like nothing is easy, it’ll never be,” it was then that Tommy let out a sob-wracked laugh through his sniffles. The action felt like breathing again, felt as if Tommy's just been saved from the dark waters he’d been too afraid to leave; felt like that first gasp of clean air entering your lungs after centuries of drowning.

This moment felt so fragile, delicate - and Tommy wished it would stretch out longer than he'll have it for. Wilbur hugged him with the gentleness of a friend and the love of an older brother. Cradling the younger as if he was afraid Tommy would crumble into dust if he let go; that Tommy’s too-light form would be carried away like dandelion fluff in the wind. It was the safest Tommy had ever felt in all his pitiful 15 years of life.

“That’s alright,” Wilbur's deep, velvet-smooth voice cracked awkwardly on the last syllable. “Let it out,” the man whispered, uttering the words so genuinely and so lovingly that Tommy almost started spilling and sobbing once again. Wilbur’s worry had poured into care, and care whispered love into the creases of Tommy’s palms.

“Talk to me.”

Chapter 17: DISCONTINUED

Chapter Text

DISCONTINUATION ANNOUNCEMENT !!

hi! if anyone is reading this, im so sorry T__T i know in my last end note i said id never give up on finishing this story, but that was before a lot of things happened, and i just cant bring myself to ever write or consume content on some of these creators ever again.

revisiting this fic has made me really nostalgic on the dsmp era however, and i can admit that despite the hell it was and led to, it was a blissfully happy time, and i genuinely loved it enough to write about it. so, for those who are still interested in the plans i had for this fic, here's some snippets of what could've been published

(warning, some parts are not very complete, nor edited, mostly ramblings and vague notes, so, make do with that).

Index:

1. Fully written chapter 17

2. Convo snippet

3. Brainstorming notes

4. Finale build-up snippet

4. First (and only) draft of the final chapter

Enjoy! :D

1.

Tommy remembered the day of Fundy and Dream’s wedding. It was after the disc war but before the L’manberg revolution, in what Tommy considers the weird inbetween era of peace. When everyone was happy, and almost even a family.

The venue was beautiful. It was a pocket world that Fundy commissioned someone to build in, the fox man’s own redstone contributions were littered around the whole map. Tommy remembers Fundy telling him about it, how he proposed to Dream on the first date and they watched Treasure Planet together, some kind of movie that Tommy very obviously hadn’t seen. (He’s only ever watched Up, and that’s because it was his 10th birthday present from his mother.)

Dream wore the most beautiful dress, embroidered with intricate patterns of flowers and glimmering from all the gems, jewels, and pearls stitched into the design. Tommy remembers Fundy had asked him to be the flower boy, and that he had the absolute best time yeeting flowers into people's faces (most of them anyway, Tommy used the rest of the basket to shower George in pretty petals, as the man deserved). Tommy remembers the ceremony; Sapnap had stepped in where Dream’s father would’ve walked him down the aisle, Wilbur surprised everyone by being a licensed wedding officiant,

the dramatic objection that most people weren’t really surprised at, then Dream as the runaway bride. After that though, things got a little fuzzy. Actually, now that he thought about it, the whole event was blurry in some parts. First, it was the guests. Tommy knew that most of the Dream SMP members were there but that was Fundy’s side of the pews. The other side - Dream’s side - only had three people sitting there. Tommy knows he saw them, that he clearly saw their faces - but his memory only reported static. He knows that they were Dream’s family, clearly close if they bothered to show up on such short notice. He knows that one was shorter, in a yellow-green dress that made it look like they were floating. That they were smiling yet when Tommy thinks of their happy face all that comes up is blank darkness. The other was definitely taller, enveloped in a long aqua-green cape that dropped so low it looked like they were floating too. Yet again, when Tommy tried to remember their face nothing came up.

However, they weren’t Tommy’s main concern, what bothered Tommy the most was this third person.

The third person was different in the sense that Tommy thinks he knows them, that they were the other flower thrower who shadowed behind him during the ceremony. The person was tall, taller than Tommy himself which he remembers being a surprise to him at the time. Unlike the other two unknowns, they wore a dark black suit, one that looked more suited for a funeral than a wedding. They had split-dyed hair, half black half white, and an eerily familiar crown which Tommy couldn’t pinpoint where he’d seen it before. Tommy recalls joking around with them, that the person might’ve said a few one-liners that had Tommy choking on his laughter. Yet, he does not think the person had a face. No, he knows that they did not have a face. Because while person one had a mischievous child-like smile and person two had a pleased smirk, this third person had no mouth, nor eyes, not even a nose. They had no smile that Tommy could remember the curve of, no crinkle in the edges of the eyes to state as fact. The only thing there was a dark and clustering aura where their face should’ve been. The more Tommy thought about them the more that void turned into deafening static, almost like something else was warning him not to remember.

In any case, the fuzziness in his memory was definitely because of these three unknowns, and Tommy would bet a disc that Dream had a part to play in it; that the man is also why Tommy is even able to remember that this championship was part of a dream. It also just occurred to him how ironic that was, that Dream had something to do with his dreams. All the more reason he should probably apologize and actually talk it out with the man, and maybe this time his questions would be answered willingly.

***

“Talk to me.”

Wilbur said as if talking was some monumental achievement to be proud of, when in fact it was the other way around. Talking should've been the easiest thing in the world at that moment, yet Tommy felt like there were wires wrapped around his throat and preventing him from uttering a single word. He struggled for a gasp, managing to gain a few gulps of air that rang loudly in the quiet room.

“I…”

And what was he meant to say? That his whole world was falling apart around him and he had no idea why. That things were fine just a week ago when he was still dreaming of L’manberg and the stability it gave him? That the same stability had been ripped out from right under him and was now being waved right in front of his face like a taunt? That Wilbur was making it worse because the man doesn't even remember being Tommy’s brother .

Where does he even start?

“I’m...tired”

And it was all he could bring himself to confess at that moment. Because he was. He was so tired of running and crying and breathing in the cold air that froze his lungs every night. Tired of the way his hands shook without warning and his thoughts were a never-ending pity party and how his heart has been bleeding for so long with no bandaids or kisses to heal it better.

And Wilbur sighs, satisfied. As if Tommy’s answer was the universe’s greatest kept secret and not at all as disappointing as Tommy knows it was.

“Yeah?” He whispers. An opening for Tommy to continue on, or a chance for Tommy to end the conversation where it stands. But he feels like he’s been doing too much of that lately and takes Wilbur’s metaphorical hand.

“I miss L’manberg” and he takes the leap, wondering if he’ll land on solid ground, or fall on nothing but air.

Wilbur stills, Tommy feels it in the way his hands grip tighter at the blonde’s. Then he exhales another heavy sigh, a mixture of relief and guilt swimming in his dark brown eyes.

“Yeah, I do too.”

***

Wilbur remembered, he always did.

Which is why he noticed that Tommy seemed a little off. He didn’t realize it right away. After all, causing a public disruption is exactly something the boy would do and did. And Tommy didn’t sound different either, he was just a bit...quieter. Something Wilbur normally would’ve been happy about yet it only worried him.

Tommy may joke about Wilbur being old and senile enough to need glasses, but Wilbur wasn’t blind. He could see, clear as day, that his pseudo brother was in pain. Tommy’s back drooped with a weight that wasn’t there before, and his eyes held certain tiredness that could only be explained by years of life wearing him down.

It’s that same tiredness that caused a pang of regret at driving it.

But it was part of the mission, in fact, it was the last-resort mission that he’d been assigned to. So he swallowed down the guilt, kept up his usual act, and tried his best to feign normalcy around the teen. For the most part, it was easy. The championship games are a natural distraction for everyone to focus on instead. Outside of that though, Wilbur was struggling to find the blonde anywhere.

These weren’t Tommy’s usual patterns. He didn’t show up in most of Wilbur’s designated areas; nowhere near the caravans, the cafeteria, only ever on the beach. Puffy has only seen him once in the outdoor cafe. The only person who’d managed to report consistent sightings of the blonde was Niki, and that was concerning since Niki’s only post was the late night shift at the hot cocoa stand.

One thing was for sure though, Tommy was getting jumpier, more skeptical, and that was precisely what they needed to happen.

Tommy needed to find out himself that he wasn’t the only one who remembered, and thankfully it finally happened, albeit at the expense of Dream’s own grief. The man had shakily reported all the details of the event at Parkour Warrior before swiftly disappearing for some reprieve. Probably in a cuddle pile between Sapnap and George right now, the three becoming even more inseparable ever since the announcement this morning.

It was a gamble, a risky one. And none of them would ever forget the agent that was sacrificed just for Tommy even to be here. But the Minecraft Championship was the only place they could recruit people without the looming presence of The Council, even if Wilbur knew damn well that there were already spies that have infiltrated their ranks. They couldn't kick them out without arising suspicion, but it was making it so hard for them to regroup and strategize. The same suspicion had made recruitment so difficult. It was hard to trust people when you were wary if they were themselves at the same time. For some people, it was obvious, like when Sylvee didn’t respond to Scott’s keyword in the speech. For others, it was a shot in the dark. And new players were a liability as much as they were possible allies. Each person got added to MCC through vouch and approval, but some things could still slip through the cracks. That was especially true ever since Fundy went missing. It’s made everyone even more on edge than before, and that’s why they couldn’t wait any longer to recruit Tommy. They needed him if this plan was to succeed.

***

“What if I told you that everything you knew about history is wrong?”

are the words Wilbur Soot whispered to Tommy on this dreaded night.

The blonde boy stared into Wilbur’s soul, and Wilbur could see the moment it finally clicked. The boy’s face went slack, mouth open and eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d never expected for his thoughts be be acknowledged.

Wilbur’s heart ached at the sight, that he’d have to be the one to say it, like a nurse delivering the news of loss. At the same time, he trusted no one else with the job. So he stared back into Tommmy’s eyes with a resolute seriousness and accepted that it had to be this way. He softly held his brother’s hands and tightened them for a second before letting go.

“What if I told you that your dreams aren’t dreams.”

Wilbur saw the moment Tommy’s world came crashing down.

***

Have you ever wondered how places like Tommy’s facility have oxygen? How the cafeteria still has food and the world still has electricity? With no trees, no farms, and no power plants?

Even in the apocalypse, the modern world’s survival is dependent on technological advancements. Ones that made mythical fantasies an unerving reality.

At the age of 10, children are taught that the world’s population today is only 0.0002% of what it was hundreds of years ago. However, that percentage is a lie. The real percentage—one that only a select few people know—is 0.005%. That leaves 37,000 people on this sun-damaged Earth, but how?

Here is the truth.

800 years ago, a young boy discovered how to transfer a person’s consciousness entirely onto the internet.

That was the beginning.

The next step was to create a server, one that could interact with the beta tester’s mind. No controllers or keyboards necessary. Then to connect that person to an international system of servers. Though, because of how early the technology was in its development, they didn’t know how to transfer consciousness back into a then brain-dead corpse. And it didn’t take too long to create an android body for those subjects.

What would the government do if they discovered this kind of invasive technology? As any corrupt and desperate system would, mass production and advertisem*nt were the only answers.

***

Tommy could barely breathe. Because just for a moment, he believed Wilbur’s words. Maybe he was crazy to believe it sure, but, it made sense .

He’d never wondered how the facility had oxygen, how the cafeteria still had food, and how the world still had electricity. They had no trees, no farms, and no power plants. This would be the only logical answer.

But still , it was such a far fetched idea. 37 thousand people still alive? It just couldn’t be true.

“Where are these thousands of people then? The ones who we’ve never heard any radio signal from?” Tommy whispered, trying to grasp any argument to this truth.

“Off in their own corners of the world, living similar lives to your own.” Wilbur answered.

“But that still doesnt explain how I'm here, and why I remember”

Wilbur stared over his shoulder, contemplating something.

“I think it’s time I showed you something”

He reached into the folds of the world and pulled out a floating keyboard. Tommy backed away in shock” “What–”

“I think they’ll explain better than I can” Wilbur was typing something, Tommy couldn’t follow on what.

/tp TommyInnit WilburSoot 229221, 121, 185221512212091514

Their surroundings shifted, and Tommy stood shocked in a room that looked like it was ripped straight out of a movie. It was a large room, full of computers and control panels near the walls while in the middle sat a large round platform with a glowing white surface in the middle. It looked live a resistance meeting room, wait.

“Wher–”

“ HANDS UP AND ABOVE YOUR HEAD DROP ALL WEAPONS ”

People burst through the door in full enchanted netherite, about ten of them surrounded them with swords and bows drawn.

Panic flashed through his head, he looked to Wilbur in front of him, almost like the man was shielding him.

“Just follow my lead” the brunet whispered.

A familiar figure stepped into the room, no armor or weapons visible, but that somehow was even more terrifying. The man had cyan hair and stern eyes, ones guarded and unnaturally grave than his normal ones.

Scott stood in front of Wilbur, eyeing the other down despite being shorter, analyzing the brunet thoroughly and for something.

“ And on the pedestal, these words appear,” Scott said.

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and prosper!”

Scott and Wilbur have a mini staring contest until the cyan man sighed and rolled his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissal for the armored people to back off and leave the room. The stress melts off Scott’s face, if only somewhat, and his eyes are alight with a twinge of annoyance.

“You could’ve given us more of a heads up before teleporting straight into the base!” The man ranted.

Wilbur rested his arms back on his sides and gave a small apologetic grin. “Sorry man, I didn’t really plan to do this whole thing today either,” he said, glancing back to Tommy, Scott followed his vision.

Tommy was a little ore than uncomfortable with two pairs of eyes just staring and studying him. He rubbed his hands together trying to have some sort of comfort.

“Well,” Scott said, lips pressed together and eyebrows furrowed as if trying to plan how to stop a train crash, “let’s get started then.”

The man took a step towards him, and it took everything in Tommy’s power not to flinch back when Scott held is hand out for him to take. Tommy slowly took Scott’s hand and shook it with a weak grip, looking the man in the eyes with fear and curiosity as the next words said werre heavy and hopeful at the same time.

“Welcome to the resistance, Tommy Innit.”

crazzyyyy right? half baked and horribly executed but crazyyyyyyyyy. anyways, more snippets of what was meant to be a mind blowing moment:

2.

Intercepting call..

“Hey Dris?”

“Hmm?”

"The creator seems to be active again”

"Really?"

Chuckles, "Yeah, y'know the championship that Dream attends every month?"

“Uhh, the mine….crack one?

“Minecraft""Yeah i knew that"

"Ugh, anyways, his signature code has been messing with the servers again"

"What did he do this time?"

"Trap fundy in a nightmarish coma"

"Yikes, well there goes our best coder"

"Such a shame, he was a cooperative one too"

"Sally’s gona be furious"

"We could always erase her memories again"

"Yeahh but i like her, she’s cool"

"You think all the androids are cool"

"I would turn you and Dream into androids if I could, it’d make things more fun around here"

"Our mission has never included fun"

"Ugh," rolls eyes, "anyways whyd you bring up the games"

"Fundy’s disappearance could raise suspicion, and the games cant continue without a missing player"

"So? Isn’t that server mostly the guys that work for us, jeez wish i could spend my freetime like that"

"Most, not all, Scott adds some suggestions or randoms each month, and project T0M is one of them this time."

"Wait really? It’s been a while man, i wanna visit"

"Dris, you know the rules:

"Ughhhh dont show yourself bc it messes with the data i knowww"

"Yet you’re still gona do it anyway"

"Im still gona do it anyway"

Sigh, "anyways, I was suggesting that we send a new player for the meantime, until wilbur eventually barges in and demands for fundy"

"Who should we send?"

"Well, I myself am interested in what Dream gets up to in that server, and maybe Tubbo wants to see another familiar face...maybe even a dual split one?"

"Ohh u are evil"

"I see it as kindness"

"Whatever lets you sleep at night"

"Aha well, let’s wake up R4N800 then, shall we?"

-

Connection lost.

some plot points changed after this but essentially,, ranboo joins mcc and drista and xd and dream r siblings, yea

and now drumroll please, the brainstorming notes/plans :D (if u wna skip, go to the last part for the planned ending)

3.

Welcome to the internet

• ranboo super soldier (own one-off fic)
• krinios dms scott to add tommy to mcc
• is stopped before he could tell scott that sylvee was taken in
• Marking on bench in morse code “meeting in dome basem*nt, midnight”
• sylvee spy

• the resistance:
• all the admins
• Dre, the council spy, hacker coder boi, has the most power out of all of them
• Wilbur, revolutionist
• Scott, mcc irganizer, hold the event each month
• +those who know
• Techno, the muscle
• George, coder hacker boi
• Sapnap, more muscle
• Niki, the spy on the inside thats right HERCULES MULLIGAN PT 2 (assistant/secretary to council)
• Eret, another spy on the insideee cough chief of management
• Rip fundy, was also a hacker coder boi
• GRIANNN SPYYYYY GOES UNDERCOVER

• mcc is a ploy to tell more ppl + add them to the resistance
• telling ppl is risky bc they might be spies
• wilbur wants to tell tommy
• its risky

• sylvee asks tommy questions that would give away that he knows that this is a “dream”
• tommy is suspicious of it and lies
• wilbur finds them and inturupts
• wil whispers “the bench” to tommy and disappears
• tommy finds the morse code
• goes to the basem*nt
• big reveal:
• government has rockets to fly to mars but only for the 1% richest
• leaving everyone else on earth
• once the sun swallows venus, earth becomes too heated to live on
• 8 month time limit
• Dream explains the gaming terminology
• “Canon life” “servers”
• Each “player has the agency to exit the game, it pops up every time they die but they only seem to leave after a particularly emotional death
• “Players” should have permissions to exit the game whenever they want, but a code is keeping them from it
• Players cant willingly leave a server
• Tommy had dreams of super mario bros/super smash bros/mariokart/terreria/legend of zelda/fnaf/animal crossing/any game he’s ever played as a kid
• They weren’t dreams, they were games
• There’s a mother system of servers
• Admins are the only ones who can create servers and willingly leave the games bc they have perms
• Admins can appoint other admins (its just very complicated)
• Once they have admin perms, they can rejoin a server/have a recurring dream

• mcc can only happen once a month to prevent suspicion + it takes a lot of preparing
• It is a way for resistance members to plan without raising suspicion
• Facilities monitor players dreams (cant see them per say, but monitor heart rate, blood preassure, etc.)
• If something seems off or suspicious, they can disconnect a player
• resistance plans to do a coup
• to get all civilians who are willing onto the ship
• those young will go to mars
• they ask tommy to join
• he needs time

Admin reveal:

• There is a systems of underground tunnels that connect each facility on earth
• At the center is a giant artificially made tree
• Based off that one post where someone made an artificially produced leaf
• Developed that technology over time
• The tree is where all of the facilities get their oxygen
• There are smaller trees in each facility, but theyre all connected to the main tree thru?? Internet tech?????
• The main (RESISTANCE) base is an above ground government facility
• A giant (very strong glass??) dome that can open to allow aircrafts to fly
• Rocketships litter the very large launchpad
• Can fit almost all of earth’s living population

TOMMY IS A CLONE????? SO ARE SBI + TUBBO + RANBOO JDKJSFHK

Tubbo and tommy fell out then tommy died in the snowchester riots and tubbo missed him

Sbi + tubbo were the team that created the “dreams”

They all fell out after tommy died, tubbo missed them and used the dna he collected earlier to create their clones.

Tommy has creator privileges, but doesnt know how to access it.

The council:

• XD
• Drista
• Dream technically but he’s more of a spy
• Prime
• The large organization behind the whole “dream mess”
• Think that theyre gods who are sparing the lives of those still on earth
• Will do anything to keep their agenda
• Have a military of andriods
• RANBOO THEIR UNDERCOVER ANDRIOD
• ...sylvee is now an android
• The voices in the mirror room
• Sylvee was taken to the main building (a white, almost angelic palace)
• The inbetween
• RESISTANCE IS THE OTHER SIDE
• Karl my fav android is wavering between both before he finally joins the resistance
• Seem nice but r actually evil n messed up tbh
• Twisted and pwoer hungry
• Technically related
• Drista doesnt rlly ccare that much
• XD cares TOO much
• Prime is the almighty who keeps them in line
• Dream is kinda just - there
• And struggling to appeal to them n distract them
• Needs to regulate their moods so that they dont notice the resistance
• Someone help the poor man
• Dream is prolly gona sacrifice himself, man
• THEYVE GT A SPY ON THE INSIDE THAT RIGHT HUCULES MULLIGNAN !!!\
• Help me
• If someone ever read thse notes theyed prolly like, die or some sh;t bro idk no one else gets to read these

Anyways, back to the main plot

• sylvee called for backup
• Ranboo joined the game
• “the game” ?
• R4N800
• ranboo gets banned
• Ranboo left the game
• mcc takes a day of interruption
• ranboo joins again and is captured instead
• Is taken underground for a breakthrough
• Wakes as himself, no memory of being a soldier
• Tells them abt the beginning, how the dreams came to be
• Gives them a vital clue on how they could do the takeover

Finale

• they get onto thr ship and takeoff to mars
• they start a new life there, because mars is now closer to the sun, the glaciers have thawed, there is water and room for life.
• humanity continues

Sequel

• humanity makes rockets from the minerals on mars and fly to another star
• What iF, pfftttgrvgd hear me out: they name their new place l’manberg {starst crying laughing) im so smasnrd t
• I hate myself

[slaps fic] this bad boy can fit so much trauma

• They find anothe earth-like planet
• Humans there r like the mythical creatures

Prequel

• Tubbo
• Tommy cant tell tubbo bc they dont know who to trust.
• Pogtopiaaa
• TUBBO IS “IMMORTAL” TECH GENIUS WHO MADE RANBOO FULLY ONLINE BC HE HATED SEEING HIS BEST FRIEND SUFFER??
• SENT TECH TO GOVERNMENT KNOWING THAT THE WORLD WAS ENDING
• THE CONFRONTATION SCENE I WROTE
• Tubbo’s original body died along w ranboo’s
• BEEDUO ANDRIODSSS
• He found a way to connect a person’s consciousness to the internet
• Chip inserted in the back of someone’s neck
• that transmits signals to the brain
• Basically: SAO nerve gear .
• There is a robot in your neck
• Ranboo spinoff fic (prequel)
• is immortalized thru the internet
• irl body is robotic
• consciousness is online
• memories are messed w by gov
• Og welcome to the internet idea for this fic
• Am a genius

if u skipped all of that its okay (i did too,, by not writing it) and here's a bonus snippet leading up to the finale:

4.

The sky screamed red and the sunlight burned his pale skin.

Hundreds of spaceships were scattered across the long abandoned government launch pads. Tommy watched as thousands scrambled to enter the giant hunks of metal and engineering, all of them undoubtedly knowing how dangerous this plan was. The physical timer floated right above their heads in the form of an ever looming and ever magnified red sun. It was almost too close, almost.

They still had time, about eight hours before the cutoff. It was always the number eight, the unluckiest number that followed the lucky number seven. Like a second child being forced to follow the footsteps of their accomplished older sibling.

This was the moment Tommy thought only happened in movies. Like in Wall-E where humans found life outside of Earth and managed to live. Except Pixar’s Earth was still capable of life, Tommy’s Earth no longer is.

It fascinated Tommy as he watched the ocean of specs hardly conceal their sprints into the aircrafts. Each with their own troubles and trauma that no other human would try to care for. The world they grew up in inflicted hurt that would never go away, but hopefully the new world they created wouldnt. That’s what its all about, isnt it? Making a new home that didn’t have the constant shadow of death that hung above their heads. Creating an Earth that let their kids be kids, because Tommy’s Earth didnt do the same for him.

5.

There, at the top of the world, stood a small boy who looked dead on his feet.

He looked no taller than 5'4 and no older than 15, yet his eyes held a certain tiredness that no mere man could experience.

He stood there, apathetic and numb to the revolution that swarmed his office.

He could see the rapid rise and fall of their chests, and almost laughed at the confusion that swirled in their minds. After all, who could’ve predicted that this little boy was the one who ruined the world?

The silence was deafening and rang loudly in his ears. No one dared to move, at least until a blonde boy walked to be right in front of him. He had to crane his neck upwards to see his face.

And so, he spat out the question everyone in the room was dying to ask:

“Why?”

And after so many years, Tubbo still had no answer.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, voice strained from unuse.

“Why”

“It was all I knew,” he mumbled.

“..Why?”

“I….”

“Tommy, we have 10 minutes,” Wilbur interrupted. The blonde seemed to consider this, and glanced back to the boy who still didn't have an answer for them. The boy in the green button up shirt stared back before closing his eyes and finally letting out a sigh.

“Go,” he said, and head telltale sounds of running. When he opened his eyes, he saw their retreating backs down the hallway.

All except for Ranboo.

The android stood tall, taller than the blonde and the brunet, tall enough to remind Tubbo that the real Ranboo could have even grown taller than this.

The boy let out a low chuckle, somehow finding it funny that he and the andriod were similar no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it.

“You could join us, you know”

And his eyes snapped up to see Ranboo's impassive face which has said such a hilarious thing. He was half tempted to laugh, no one in their right mind would think he was redeemable. He was far past second chances or even third and fourth chances. No, he became hopeless the moment Ranboo died, the moment he killed him.

“I can’t”

“Why not?”

There it was again, the ever-complicated question of why. Why did he do this, why did it go so far, why?

“Because I have played god for far too long to act innocent,” and Tubbo gave his old friend a final smile that Ranboo understood perfectly. The andriod turned to leave, but not before taking a final glance of the person Tubbo had become, and somehow still seeing traces of who he was, 1000 years ago.

And then he left, and Tubbo stood alone in the office that grew to become his prison.

A fiery death and afterlife didn’t sound too bad.

***

Ranboo caught up to the others in the launch halls, they turned towards him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“I want to save him."

And that was all he had to say.

***

He didn’t expect the resistance to burst back into his office only 5 minutes after they’d left. This time, however, they looked determined...to do what exactly? Kill him? Well, he guesses it’s a bit deserved really.

It was Ranboo who approached, and Tubbo honestly wasn’t surprised that he’d be the one to land the final blow. It was symbolic, in a way. He was getting his revenge, and Tubbo accepted that.

What he didn’t expect however, was for the android to pick hi up and toss him over his shoulder.

What?

The group rushed out of the office once more - this time with a confused Tubbo - running towards where the last airship was. It took a few minutes for him to process what was happening, and when he did they were already racing across the takeoff platform and seconds away from boarding the ship. Right at the beginning of the boarding ramp, Tubbo put all his energy into freeing himself from the android’s hold. He struggled and strained until the andriod dropped him onto the middle of the ramp. Tubbo crawled back to the edge of the platform, Ranboo stood in the same place he dropped him.

“Leave me”

And it was like the andriod expected Tubbo to say those exact words as he walked towards him and off the ramp.

“Ranboo!” Tommy shouted from inside the ship, panicked that they may not be able to lift off the ground in time.

The person in question only looked back with the same calm smile, same immortalized face, turning back to the boy on the ground.

“Leave me,” Tubbo whispered, weak and pitiful, yet Ranboo only smiled and offered him an outstretched hand.

“No, not again”

And with those words, and that kind smile, the boy in the green buttoned shirt finally gave in. Huffing out a tired sigh knowing that Ranboo was too determined to leave, even if it endangered himself; he was always foolish in that way. Tubbo took the outstretched limb and allowed it to help him up.

Together they walked up the ramp and into the airship.

***

Tubbo had gone limp the moment the doors closed.

“They’re in!!” Tommy shouted into the comm, alerting Wilbur who’d been waiting for his signal in the co*ckpit.

“Get ready for takeoff!!” Wilbur announced through the speakers as he prepared to pilot the aircraft into the sky.

The main area of the airship was organized chaos. Everyone was scrambling to find a seat to strap themselves into or something sturdy to hold onto.

Tommy and Ranboo burst into the room, the latter carrying Tubbo’s unconscious body. They soon found Techno and Phil, who had reserved some front row seats for them. They had a clear view of the display screens, of the footage that came from cameras attached to the outside of the aircraft. As the last people clicked their seatbelts on, the final countdown started.

10

9

8

7

Wilbur’s voice projected through the speakers. Distorted and choppy, but everyone could hear his hope.

6

5

4

3

2

1

The engines shook and rumbled, growling and revving to life.

“Takeoff!”

And all Tommy could see was light.

And that's it!

thank you to anyone who has made it this far. although this fic is a bittersweet reminder of the now ruined past, its the fic that got me through a lot of hard days and i genuinely am kinda proud of it (despite how bad the writing is,,) so im glad to get its finale and ideas out there.

feel free to ask me questions to clarify some details! and ill do my best to explain it all more coherently than those notes in the middle,,

once again, thank you to everyone who spent their time on this messy, poorly written declaration of love for 2020-2022 mcyt, and i hope you all are living wonderful lives <3

- mayllium, from October 8th, 2020 to May 22nd, 2024, thx for the journey :D