On the outside, Rufioh seemed like a brave person. He wasn't sure exactly why his friends thought of him that way; he didn't think of himself as any more courageous than anyone else. Meenah practically oozed confidence, Latula took on dangerous stunts all the time, and even Mituna found the strength to get back on a board after he wiped out.

Maybe it was the fact he didn't let much get to him, not even holding a grudge when someone attempted- hell, succeeded – to kill him. Maybe it was the fact that he flew around at dizzying heights any moment he could, because hey, he's got wings, he might as well use them. Or maybe it was simply the fact that he would shout "Bangarang!" whenever he was excited that gave off the impression of bravery.

But Rufioh knew he wasn't brave. He wasn't brave enough to stop Damara. He wasn't brave enough to break it off with Horuss.

And he still wasn't brave enough to meet his dancestor.

Rufioh let out a depressed sigh as this revelation hit him. Crouching on a violet tree branch, hidden behind the leaves of an imaginary tree, the Pre-Scratch Nitram watched the Post-Scratch Nitram walk through the forest below him. It wasn't hard to see the resemblance; despite the simple Mohawk (which he found cool) and the robot legs (also cool), Tavros had the same horns, teeth, and symbol as Rufioh. He even had the same nervous twitch of someone who expected a fully grown roarbeast or a pack of nut creatures to descend on him at any moment.

There was a word Kankri used to describe that. What was it? Apprehension?

Whatever it was, Rufioh was definitely feeling it now. He didn't know how he could look Damara in the eye, a girl who once crippled him and scared the hell out of him to this day, and yet still not find the courage to just talk to Tavros. What was the worst that could happen? He turns out to be another psychopath?

No, that couldn't be it. Rufioh had talked to Aranea before coming here. He had learned all about how Tavros had been a good kid, maintaining a positive outlook even after he had been crippled. How Tavros had been a master at controlling animals, and how he had used a rocket wheelchair (bangarang!) to fly around during his session. Rufioh even chuckled when Aranea mentioned the psychopathic girl, Vriska, who had a dangerous obsession with Tavros; he could certainly relate to that. And in the end, Tavros went down fighting to protect his friends. No, he couldn't be a bad guy.

But Rufioh had also learned what he himself had become in Tavros's universe. The Summoner. A mythical figure who led a rebellion against the corrupt and unjust rule of the Empress. He led armies of Cavalreapers against hordes of Subjugglators, squadrons of E%ecutors, and legions of Seadwellers. And even though he had lost, Rufioh still couldn't believe in how much courage it took for The Summoner to lead something like that. Courage that Rufioh was apparently capable of, but yet couldn't find.

Because that was what Rufioh was afraid of most. That Tavros would see him and see he wasn't some hero, some fantastical leader of armies. He would just see a mutant kid with wings on his back and bones on his clothes.

That look of disappointment, filled with the pain of betrayal. That was the look Rufioh could never stand to face again.

He wished Horuss were here. At least then he'd have someone to have a feelings jam with. Did Horuss talk with his dancestor, that Equius guy? That must've been an interesting conversation. Maybe he could…wait…

Why was everything a bit more diagonal than bef—?

CRACK!

…

…

…

Tavros was pretty sure he was lost.

He knew he had walked into this forest for a reason, but he wasn't entirely sure for what. Something about treasure?

Whatever he was doing, Tavros now had no idea where he was. He knew he was on some forest path, surrounded by brightly colored trees on all sides; but beyond that, there were no landmarks. It was fairly easy to get lost in the void, where time and space had no meaning, but to get lost inside a dreambubble was another thing entirely. He probably wouldn't hear the end of this from Vriska, even though she got lost all the time as well.

"I'm not lost," Vriska would scoff, as if she was correcting a naïve grub, "I'm exploring. You can't be a fearless explorer if you don't push your boundaries."

Tavros would try to explain to her how the two are practically the same thing, only for Vriska to either scoff at him again or divert his attention toward something that was apparently more important.

He wondered why he still hung around with her. Maybe if he had a bit more confidence he could tell her to get lost. But no matter what, she'd tell him to follow and he'd obey like some sort of barkbeast. Even though he was already dead, it was only a matter of time before her schemes killed him again.

If only Rufio, the imaginary person of his imaginary self-esteem, was real. Tavros had followed Terezi's advice, and he had believed and believed as hard as he could, believing that his belief would somehow make Rufio less fake. But it never worked.

Rufio was still fake. As fake as Tavros's faith in himse—

CRACK!

What the-

Tavros jumped and spun around, instantly on alert. Just as his robotic feet hit the dirt, a violet tree branch crashed to the ground only a few feet away, shattering into a thousand splinters. Tavros blocked his eyes with his arm as a fine spray of wood dust enveloped him. What was it this time? Imps? Liches? An ogre? What else could go wrong?

"oh sh1t…sorry bro..." He heard a voice say from above. "must've broke the th1ng w1th my we1ght…"

Tavros dropped his arm and looked up. He gasped.

A lone troll hovered impossibly in midair. He stood dressed in black clothing adorned with bones and sported a red and black mohawk split into three sections. Beams of sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy of the trees, reflecting off the circular veins of his outstretched wings and providing him with an almost divine glow. With a few flaps of his wings to steady his balance, the flying troll dropped to the ground on his feet.

"yOUR," Tavros whispered breathlessly. "uH, yOUR…"

Rufioh stood up and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, grinning lopsidedly. "yeah…just glad that didn't hit you…wouldn't have been very cool…"

"yOU'RE rUFIO," Tavros finally managed to spit out in shock.

Rufioh's blank, white eyes widened in surprise. "…you know my name?"

Tavros reared, completely dumbfounded. The person he wanted to believe was real his entire life, the person who he'd been told was fake by all of his friends, was standing right in front of him. As a ghost.

He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this.

"well, I guess this makes introductions easier…" Rufioh chuckled nervously. The young troll extended his hand. "rufioh nitram…and I think…you're my dancestor?"

Tavros stared unbelievingly at the hand for a moment, as if it were a natural impossibility one had to take in to believe. Was this real? Or was this another image created by the dreambubble?

Rufioh stood there with his arm outstretched, cool on the outside but a ball of nerves on the inside. Why wasn't he shaking his hand? Oh shit, did he do something wrong? Was he…was he ashamed of him?

He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this…until Tavros finally took his hand.

"i'M, uH," He stuttered, "i'M tAVROS,"

Even though the handshake lasted a moment longer than it should have; even though eye contact was rarely made; even though their palms were sweaty with fear and their breathing erratic with nervous tension, the two Nitrams felt more comfortable in that one moment than in their entire lives.

Eventually they broke the handshake and stood apart, examining the other. A few more moments of awkward silence passed, neither knowing what to say first.

Tavros bit his lip and looked down. Rufioh let out a nervous chuckle and looked up. Tavros scraped the dirt with his metal foot. Rufioh fluttered the air with his wings. More awkward silence passed.

"sO, uH,,," Tavros finally piped up, "dO yOU,,,pLAY fIDUSPAWN?"