Far away, on a cliff leaning over the inlet, stood a house. It looked rather ordinary, with a boxy wooden exterior and a flat roof. A porch extended over one side of the bluffs, a tall swing set beside it, and a corral in the back housed a white horse. It might have been any cliffside holiday cottage, except for the narrow railway sweeping out of it and skirting the rock face down to the land below, supported only by tall wooden posts. A little train chugged down the rickety tracks. The posts swayed beneath the weight, though the wind or crashing waves below also might have caused it. Wilbur had told Tommy multiple times that he should rebuild the tracks on stone or do away with the whole thing altogether, as it was just begging for a strong enough gust and billow of water to rip it away and wash it out to sea. Tommy thought that his building style spoke for itself, considering how his railway had yet to collapse.

Tommy now sat in the coach of his train as it made its way down the cliffs, and watched the clouds float past the window. I should install a pool table in 'ere. Maybe a snack parlor. I could use some lemonade right now–

The train jumped–a horrible shudder convulsed the car and Tommy felt the train swing farther out on the railway than usual. He tumbled off his seat and clutched the cushions.

Ohhhhhhh, I should have listened to Wilbur...

The shudder only lasted a moment, and the swaying decreased, but Tommy scrambled to his feet and ran into the engine room, heart beating its way out of his chest. He wrenched on the brake lever, and the train came to a shaky stop. The railway still rocked sickeningly, and Tommy thought he might wretch, but he managed to keep his breakfast, and peered out the inlet-side window. The clouds dozed in the ocean of the sky, like great white whales. The water below glittered in the late afternoon sun. Tommy crossed the car to the cliff-side window. The sun reflected off something violet–violet like netherite armor–floating in the waters off the beach. Tommy's stomach turned over.

It can't be.

He started the engine back up. It felt like it took forever, but at last the train arrived at the bottom of the cliffs by the beach. Tommy applied the brakes once more, then strapped on his scabbard and jumped out into the sand. A body floated in the foam beneath the railway, a body wearing full netherite, so light it didn't sink its bearer. A rucksack floated beside it. Heart pounding, Tommy waded into the pulsing waters and grabbed an arm. Lifting the body a bit, he saw the white mask, and his stomach tightened.

Why was 'e on the tracks?

He pulled the body, as well as the rucksack out of the surf and onto the sand. Whatever had happened on the tracks, Dream had come out remarkably unscathed. The mask sat askew on Dream's face, and Tommy could see a small red cut on his forehead. But more interestingly, he could see a corner of his mouth and one of his eyes, closed. He looked ordinary–too ordinary. Tommy started removing the mask.

"Hallooooooo, Tommy!"

Tommy didn't move. Tubbo's voice came closer, accompanied by the sound of a horse's hooves crunching through the sand. "Wilbur wants you back to help make some potions. But guess what? Niki and Fundy are building a bakery! We can have cream puffs everyday." Tubbo came into view, riding his pony. His voice trailed off, and he pulled his mount into a halt beside Tommy. "Tommy, what...what are you doing?"

Tommy looked up at Tubbo, trembling. "I–ah..."

Tubbo's eyes widened as he took in the scene. "Did you–did you kill Dream?"

"I-I don't know–"

"How'd you kill him?"

Panic amplified Tommy's voice. "It wasn't me–it was the train! It was an accident!"

"You're going to break the peace treaty," said Tubbo, somehow staying calm. "Are we at war again now? Is that what you just did?"

Tears filled Tommy's vision. They had just won their independence–had he ruined everything they'd worked for?

Tubbo slid off the pony and crouched beside him. "Hey, he's got his sword on him." He pulled the netherite blade from its scabbard and held it up. The dying light slid over it like oil on water, if water was amethyst-colored. Etched into the netherite glowed a single word: Nightmare. "What else he got?"

They emptied the rucksack. A knife, other sundry tools, a half-eaten biscuit. They removed Dream's armor and made a pile of it in the sand. Tommy gathered the smaller items back into the rucksack, and then, after a moment of consideration, donned the armor. He strapped on his own sheath and sword again, which he only wore outside L'Manberg because of Wilbur's ideals. He stood, looking himself over. " 'Ey, Tubbo, we can use all this as leverage. We could get a disc!"

"Dream is dead, though, Tommy."

The full realization of this filled Tommy, and a burst of laughter came out of him. "Dream's dead. Dream's dead, Tubbo! Our troubles are over!"

"But what about the peace treaty? Sapnap, George, and Punz are still out there and will probably want revenge...Not to mention King Eret..."

Tommy held out the rucksack and shook it. "But we 'ave leverage! Sweet leverage. The upper 'and. We–"

Dream coughed. Tommy and Tubbo froze, looked at each other, then sprinted across the beach with Dream's things, forgetting to take Tubbo's pony with them.

They ran until they had left the beach far behind them and the black walls of L'Manberg rose on the horizon. The boys stopped, gasping for breath. "Why–did–we–run?" wheezed Tubbo.

"Dream's–alive and we–'ave 'is–stuff."

Tubbo shook his head. "That doesn't–make sense. He's incapacitated. And weren't you just talking about 'sweet leverage'?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. He probably won't survive long anyways."

Tubbo hesitated, and his next words came out as a whisper. "Shouldn't we–you know, see to it that he's all right...?"

Tommy glared at Tubbo. "Wot are you talking about? 'E's our enemy."

"But the treaty–"

"Like I said, we have leverage. It will all work out. Trust me, Tubbo. You just need to follow my lead. Remember?"

Tubbo nodded.

"Let's go up to my 'ouse and make a plan."

"But Will wants you back to help–"

"This is too important, Tubbo. 'E will jus' 'ave to make do without us."

Since they would have to return to the beach to board the train–or retrieve the pony–they trekked the longer way up to Tommy's holiday home along the tops of the cliffs. Though the netherite was lighter than regular metal armor and did not absorb heat, Tommy's limbs ached after the first twenty minutes. " 'Ere, take Dream's things," he said, and gave the rucksack to Tubbo. Tubbo soon fell back. When Tommy looked behind him, Tubbo trailed after by at least twenty meters. Tommy stopped and sighed. "Do you want to trade?" he asked.

Tubbo came up beside him, puffing, but shook his head. Tommy started off once more, but when he glanced back, Tubbo still straggled behind. Tommy stopped again and waited. "Really, Tubbo, I thought you would be more excited to reclaim one of the discs."

Tubbo shrugged.

"What were you telling me there on the beach? A bakery–"

"Yeah. A bakery right down by the sea cliffs. It's looking really cute. Niki said they'll make fresh bread everyday."

For a moment, Tommy forgot about his sweet leverage. "Forget about bread. Did she say anything about cake?"

Tubbo rubbed his forehead. "Maybe..." He caught up to Tommy and they continued on together, though Tubbo started lagging again almost immediately.

"Do you think Niki's pretty?" asked Tommy.

"Yes, but I'm sure she's quite a few years older than you, Tommy."

Tommy groaned. "Why am I always the youngest one?"

"I also think Will and Fundy rather fancy her."

"Of course they do. She's pretty and cute and bakes cake and makes us a national flag." Tommy let out a deep, fervent sigh, and lapsed into a brooding silence, which Tubbo did not disturb.

After about an hour, stopping every so often to rest, they reached the top of the cliffs and Tommy's house. Champ, Tommy's white horse, whinnied a greeting to them from his corral. By now, Tommy thought only of removing the oppressive armor and putting on his pajamas. He opened the front door and gaped. Sprawled on the sofa in the front room was none other than Dream, complete with a bandaged head and a mug of tea. Across the room sat a person Tommy had never seen before, a man wearing something like a diamond-encrusted bodysuit over his nut-brown skin. A thick mane of black hair flopped over his face, half of which was obscured by a veil decorated with what looked like a pixelly tongue. The newcomer sipped on a lemonade, the straw disappearing under the veil.

"Oh, look who it iiiiiiiiiis!" crowed Tubbo.

"Dream, you're alive!" cried Tommy. "And in my 'ouse! Get out!"

"Have a little sympathy. I have a horrible headache. Skeppy took the liberty of making me some Earl Gray from your stash. Also, why is there a cow in your living room?"

Tommy jabbed a finger at the newcomer. "Who is that?"

"Skeppy. He's Bad Boy Halo's friend. He arrived a few days ago. I gave him a tour, he blew up some TNT by L'Manberg because you all have some stupid admittance policies, and now we pals."

Tommy glared at Skeppy. He was the reason for the extra work.

"How did you get here before us?" asked Tubbo when Tommy didn't say anything.

Dream looked at his mug, or at least, tilted his head toward it. "I don't know, man. Skeppy just brought me here. I was barely conscious."

"Oh. How you feeling?"

Dream shrugged. "I'm feeling okay. "

Tubbo sauntered up to Dream, swaggering a little. Skeppy made a sound like he was choking on his saliva. "You got hit by a train it seems," Tubbo said companionably.

Tommy recovered from his initial shock and laughed. "You got 'it–you got 'it with a train! It's classic, really."

No one said anything for a moment. Tommy opened his mouth to say more, when Tubbo cried, "What do you mean it's classic?"

Tommy coughed. "Yes, well. We 'ave–we 'ave all your things, Dream."

Dream perked up. "Oh, good." Then he frowned. "You're wearing my netherite."

Tommy smirked, though at this point, he might have just given everything back to Dream, disc or no disc–if only to get out of the armor. He managed to maintain a cool demeanor. "Let's make a deal, shall we? All yo' stuff for the discs. 'Ow does that sound?"

Dream did not say anything right off. Then he held up an axe–Tommy recognized it; it was his axe.

"I think this is our cue to leave," hissed Tubbo and edged toward the door.

Tommy grabbed Tubbo's arm. "Let's settle this like men, Dream." He hauled Tubbo outside, hoping Dream would follow.

He did. Skeppy also followed with his lemonade. They wandered over to the corral where Champ watched them. Dream crossed his arms. "All right, Tommy. Enough of the games. Give me my stuff. I have places to be."

Tommy took a deep breath. "No, no, no. A deal. Let's strike a deal. I'll give you back all your things. But you just 'and over one disc. Just one. One disc."

Dream laughed. "Or you could just give me my stuff. Because it's mine."

"That's funny, because the disc you got is rightfully mine also. But that's not 'ow we do things around 'ere, is it?"

A slow smile spread across Dream's face. "You gave me those discs, remember? You won freedom for your little country thing with them–remember?"

Tubbo looked startled, but Tommy didn't back down. "Yeah, I know. But that's all over."

Dream thought. "Okay. I'll play your game. How about you, as a sign of–gracefulness," and he spread his arms wide as though showing Tommy just how graceful he should be, "take my deal. I'll give you my horse, Spirit. Or, Spirit's remains, that is." From somewhere inside his green scarf, he produced a bag embroidered with the words "In Loving Memory of Spirit."

Tommy scoffed. "Why would I want your dead 'orse?"

"He's extremely valuable." Dream sounded offended.

"To you, maybe."

"If you knew what an amazing horse Spirit was–"

"I don't care, Dream."

"Look, the hide for my stuff is more than a fair trade. Really, you're getting the better end of the deal."

Tommy scowled. "How?"

"That stuff you got–my armor, my weapons–"

"Does that include that biscuit?" asked Tubbo.

Dream didn't answer immediately. "...What bis–Oh, I think that was a leftover cookie from the lunch Sapnap made me this morning." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, I can always grind for my stuff later. I can always get it back. Sap can, uh, always make more cookies. But this hide?" Dream shook the bag. "There's only ever been one Spirit. There will only ever be one hide from him. It may not seem like much to you now, but it will be lasting leverage for you."

Tommy crossed his arms. "If it's so amazing, why are you so eager to get rid of it?"

Dream took a deep breath. "I'm not eager. It's just–you stole my things while I was hurt and unconscious–after you knocked me off your railroad, I might add."

"Yeah, what were you doing up there?" asked Tubbo.

Dream pursed his lips and didn't answer.

"Your things for the discs," Tommy repeated. "That's my deal. Take it or leave it."

Dream crossed his arms. "I actually only have 'Mellohi.' "

Tommy started. "Wha-what did you do with 'Cat?' "

Dream nodded in Skeppy's direction. "I gave it to Skepster."

Tommy very nearly blew up. "You gave this–this–BOI my disc!?"

"Well, he found Spirit after I lost him, and we negotiated."

Tommy whirled on Skeppy. "Give me my disc."

Skeppy burped. "Nope."

Tommy glared at Skeppy, imagining the diamond boy catching fire from the intensity of his gaze. I'll 'ave to deal with 'im later. Right now I 'ave Dream's things. He turned back to Dream.

But Dream didn't say anything. He might have been thinking, but who could tell what was happening behind that mask? Tommy waited. The armor crushed around his skin, and he felt certain that he would not be able to remove it now. Dream twirled the axe in his free hand and tapped his foot. Tommy cleared his throat and shook his leg. The greaves were definitely fused to his bones. Skeppy sucked on his lemonade. Tubbo stared at his feet.

"Tommy," said Dream at last, speaking slowly, as though selecting and releasing his words with utmost care, "give me my stuff, or...I'll destroy 'Mellohi.' "

Tommy forgot all about his discomfort. "Dream, don't. Please don't."

"Then give me my stuff." He stopped twirling the axe, and now held it square in his hand, ready to strike.

'E's bluffing. 'E doesn't 'ave "Mellohi" on 'im right now. But does Skeppy?

" 'Ow about this," said Tommy, feeling more than a little desperate. "Even though I don't 'ave to, I'll throw in one of my pets along with all your stuff for a disc. You can 'ave my horse or my cow."

"You mean the cow in the living room?"

Tommy realized what he had said. "Not cow. Not–My horse."

Dream thought. "Or...I could just kill your horse." He reached over the corral fence and caught Champ by his halter before Tommy could react.

Tommy panicked. "What–no! Don't you dare kill 'orse!"

"Give me my stuff!"

"Don't–no–!"

"Give me my stuff!"

"NO!" Tommy shrieked.

Dream held the blade against Champ's neck. The horse pawed the ground, tossed his head.

"Listen," gasped Tommy, his voice shaking, "let's be reasonable. Why don't–"

Dream lowered the axe. "Look, it's more likely I get my stuff back tomorrow, I kill your horse tonight, and then you have no leverage and you have a dead horse."

Tommy struggled to regain his composure. "Well, I always 'ave my cow."

"Well, I can kill your cow, too."

"DON'T KILL MY COW."

"You wouldn't!" cried Tubbo.

"YOU WOULDN'T DARE."

A loud slurp announced that Skeppy had reached the bottom of the lemonade. He wiped his mouth under the veil, looking apologetic. "Sorry."

Tommy took a shaky breath and lowered his voice. "Look, I'm going to get Wilbur. 'E'll vouch for me and my deal."

"How do I know you're not just going to run off with my stuff and I'll never see you again?"

"Because..." Tommy grabbed hold of Tubbo's hand and walked him over to Dream.

"Tommy–"

He opened the corral gate. "Because you have Tubbo 'ostage. I'll be right back." He took the rucksack from Tubbo, mounted Champ bareback, and pulled him out of Dream's grip.

"Tommy!" Tubbo cried.

Tommy galloped down the hill. "I'll be right back, Tubbo, don't worry!"

Tommy hadn't gone far when he saw Wilbur of all people laboring the long way up to the holiday house on his black stallion. It was as if all the world were at the beck and call of Tommy Innit. Tommy hailed him and reined Champ in.

"Tommy!" Wilbur waved back and trotted up to him. "Where's Tubbo? I sent him to fetch you to help us make some po–"

"Yes, maybe later, Will. I need you to come with me."

"Why?"

"I need you to vouch for me."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes. "Tommy...what did you do now? Is that Dream's rucksack?"

Tommy didn't like where this was going. "I...well, I might 'ave–accidentally–almost killed Dream–"

"You did WHAT?"
" 'E's all right. 'E's fine. That's why I need you. Tubbo and I got all his stuff, and we're trying to trade it for a disc, but 'e wants to kill–"

"How did you manage that?"

"Manage wot?"

"Almost killing Dream!"

"Oh, I ran over him. With my train." Tommy grinned. "Dream's an idiot."

Wilbur let out a long sigh. "You ran over Dream."

"Yeah."

"And you almost killed him. With a train."

"Yeah, a li'le bit." Tommy couldn't help letting some pride seep into his voice. Really, how many others in the land could boast that they had almost killed Dream?

Wilbur glared down at Tommy. "Did you even think of the peace treaty? Do you want another war?"

Tommy said nothing.

Wilbur raised his voice. "Do you realize what you've done, Tommy? What you're doing is jeopardizing the lives of everyone who lives in L'Manberg. Dream could just blow us all up if he wanted to, and he would be perfectly within his rights to do so because you violated the peace treaty. And now you're pushing on his good graces with your selfish, short-sighted desires...Did you even once consider what would happen to L'Manberg, to me, to Fundy, to Nihachu–"

Tommy shrugged. "I don' even like Fundy."

Wilbur's eyes flared. "And that changes...what exactly? What about Tubbo, your supposed best friend?"

"I 'ave this under control, Will, I just need you to–"

"You're bargaining for the very things that sealed our freedom. I don't think you have this under control."

"If you'd just–"

"No, Tommy. Just–no. You are undermining my authority as president. You understand?"

Tommy grumbled. "Yeah."

Wilbur straightened in the saddle up to his full height, which was even more intimidating on top of the horse. "Yes, who?"

"Yes–"

Wilbur's voice somehow resonated, as though he was speaking through a megaphone. "Yes, Mr. President."

Sullen: "Yes, Mr. President."

Wilbur looked past Tommy. "Let's go talk to Dream."

"Bu-but, Will! 'E's going to kill my 'orse! I wanted to you to vouch for my–"

But Wilbur had already started trotting up the hill. Tommy followed, growling the whole way. They arrived at the house in a few minutes, where Dream, Skeppy, and Tubbo all sat in the grass outside the corral, playing pinochle.

"I still don't understand how this game works," Tommy heard Dream say as they came up.

"It's easy. You just need to combine all the–Oh! Wilbur! Hallo!" Tubbo stood.

"Hello, Tubbo. Dream." Wilbur glanced at Skeppy. "I don't think we've met, though if I recall correctly, you're the one who set off that TNT by our already distressed walls, no?"

Skeppy shrugged. "Sure."

Wilbur faced Dream. "I'm sorry for Tommy's unruly behavior."

Tommy blew up. "Will! Will?! You're supposed to vouch for me!"

"I do not think he meant to run you over on the railway. Please excuse him and do not hold this against him or the rest of us dwelling in L'Manberg. Let the peace treaty hold."

Dream ran his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah, I just want my stuff back, that's all."

Wilbur looked over at Tommy. "Well?"

"Well wot?"

"Return Dream's things."

Tommy groaned. "But–but my sweet leverage! I'm trying to get a disc back!"

"You can't go on like this, Tommy. You're risking our lives, our peace for your stupid pride. And he's being unreasonably gracious right now." Wilbur did not look at Tommy, but gazed down at Dream, face calm, though his jaw tightened.

Dream reached for the axe lying in the grass. Without pausing to think, Tommy pulled Champ around and ground his heels into the horse's belly. Champ sprang forward, but Dream, with uncanny speed and agility, leapt up and sank his axe into Champ's neck. The horse screamed and collapsed onto the ground before he had gone three meters. Tommy wormed his way out from under the horse, crawled through the grass on shaky limbs. Then he jumped to his feet, trembling with rage, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Fine, Dream!" he shouted. " 'Ave it your way. 'Ere's your shtupid stuff." He yanked the rucksack off and dumped the contents on the ground in front of Dream. He unstrapped the netherite armor and flung it on top of the pile. "Now give me your dead 'orse."

Dream hesitated, then held out the embroidered bag. Tommy snatched it. Later he would store it in his ender chest down at the embassy.

"Was that really necessary, Dream?" said Wilbur, his voice gentle.

Dream ignored him and collected his things back into the rucksack. "Let's go, Skeppy."

Skeppy sniffed. "I may have helped you on the beach, but I'm not your crony. Later, twerps." He walked up past Tommy's house, to the north.

Dream shrugged. He put on the armor and secured his rucksack. "Good bye, Tommy." He nodded to Tommy, with what could have been described as a small bow. Then he turned and headed down the hill after Skeppy.

Tommy watched him go, hate clouding his vision. He felt Tubbo place a hand on his shoulder, and he wiped his arm across his face. Wilbur dismounted his horse in one light, fluid motion, as if he weighed nothing, and came up beside him.

"I'm sorry, Tommy."

" 'E's in'uman." Tommy spat the words out like they were poison. "I don't think there's a drop of 'uman blood in 'im."

"That's a bit extreme," said Wilbur. "None of this would have happened if you just left Dream alone." He took a deep breath. "If you had just respected my authority as president."

Tommy whirled on him, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. "It was an accident! It was–'ow would you 'ave me react, Will? 'E killed Champ right from under me!"

"I understand you're hurt, Tommy." Wilbur didn't try to push any further, for which Tommy felt vague gratitude. Wilbur gave him a couple rough pats on the back. "Why don't we have a little memorial for your horse?"

Tommy nodded, and wiped his face again. "All right."

The sun set on that little part of the world, and three young men lined up in front of a grave, singing as the sky turned to fire.

The next day broke over a new burial plot in the backyard of Tommy's holiday house, complete with a headstone constructed from what looked like an old Earl Gray tin. Tommy had returned the train to its dock at the southern end of the house. And Wilbur had allowed Tommy an extended holiday on account of his horse, so he didn't have to return to L'Manberg and help with whatever Wilbur wanted him to help with. All was peace once again–at least outside. Against his better judgment, Skeppy paid Tommy a visit, presumably to take advantage of the fact that he owned one of Tommy's discs.

In Tommy's mind, though, he was the only one doing any advantage-taking. After plying Skeppy with three cups of lemonade in the sitting room, Tommy set aside the pleasantries and got down to business. "Say, Skeppy, why don't you just give me the disc, and we call it a day?"

Skeppy raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do I get?"

Tommy reached over and placed an awkward arm on Skeppy's shoulder. "To be my friend."

Skeppy sighed and scooted down the couch, away from Tommy. "If you give me five sets of netherite armor, I'll give you 'Cat.' "

Tommy assumed his saddest face. "I...I can't afford that..."

Skeppy settled back, crossed his arms.

Tommy tried again. "You know what, you can live with me for a month, and your one rent is the disc."

"I literally live in the second-biggest house around here."

Really? "Where is it? Do you live with Punz?"

Skeppy sniffed. "I live in the newly-built Quartz Mansion up north with Bad Boy Halo."

That sounded mighty fancy. That's probably what all that construction work up north was about. Tommy thought. "What's the first-biggest 'ouse? Is it me 'oliday 'ome?"

"Uh, no, it's that castle. I didn't think you were this dense, Tommy."

"OHHH, I thought we were talking about 'ouses, not castles."

"Anyways, I don't want to live with you."

"Fine." Tommy crossed his arms and tried to look like he didn't care.

Skeppy didn't give up. "You're going to have to give me something really good in exchange."

Neither did Tommy. "I'll give you Dream's 'orse, and I'll give you my sword. AND, I'll give you my cow, 'Enry." Try as he might, his voice still trembled a little at the end.

Skeppy groaned. "You mean this cow?" He made a violent motion at Henry, almost hitting him. "I don't want your cow!"

"Great!" shouted Tommy. "I didn't want to give 'im to you anyways!"

Someone knocked on the door. Tommy snapped his gaze over to it, glanced at Skeppy, then stood and peered through the peephole.

Sapnap stood on the threshold, tapping his foot and glaring at the sky.

"Why are you 'ere?" growled Tommy into the door.

"Special delivery," said Sapnap.

Curiosity outstripped what little common sense Tommy possessed, and he opened the door, his hand on his sword hilt.

"Chillax," said Sapnap. He dug into the voluminous pockets of his shorts. He extracted a letter and held it out.

Tommy took it, not without reservation. "Whatever 'appened to our emails?"

Sapnap blinked. "Uhhhh..."

Tommy helped him out. "Our enderman postmaster? You know, enderman mail? E-mail?"

Sapnap's face cleared, but he shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. Dream just doesn't trust whatever rigged mail system you Brits got around here."

Tommy spluttered. "Rigged? And we're not all Brits, you know, Mr. Nap."

Sapnap held up his hands. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger."

Tommy gave him a dirty look and opened the letter:

TOMMY WHERE IS MY SWORD IF YOU DON'T MEET ME BY THE WEIRD UFO THING AT NON TODAY WITH MY SWORD NIGHTMARE I'M GOING TO KILL YOUR PRECIOUS COW ASDLFJASFLDJASF

(signed)

Dream

"What's 'non'?" asked Tommy. "And what was that last part all about?"

Sapnap read over his shoulder. "I think he meant to write 'noon.' He's really angry, you know."

"Ah, that makes more sense." Tommy jumped as if struck by lightning. "It's noon now!"

Sapnap made duck lips. "Yeah, I kinda lost my way a little bit back there."

A brilliant idea struck Tommy like lightning, and possibly just as dangerous. He leaned forward, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. " 'Ey, if you 'elp us stop Dream, I'll give you some emeralds."

"Really? How can we trust a member of the Dream Team?" said Tubbo, coming out of the house and rubbing his eyes. A pair of bee slippers glowered judgmentally from his feet.

Tommy jumped. "Tubbs! Where did you come from?"
Tubbo looked hurt. "I spent the night here, remember? I overslept...but what's this about Dream's sword?"

The sword! Where did it go? Tommy couldn't remember where they had put it. "It seems that it wasn't with the things we returned to Dream. And now 'e's going to kill 'Enry if we don't return it. Wait! Dream 'as the disc! Maybe–maybe I can still get it."

"Tommy, what are you talking about?" said Tubbo.

A plan formed in Tommy's mind, so brilliant he could hardly get it out. "If we–'e'll 'ave to go up the railway–it's faster–and then we can kill 'im!"

"I'd love to help, little man, but you're going to have to tell me more," said Sapnap. "Also, I'll betray Dream any day, but can we, like, not kill him, please?" His voice dropped off at the end, but Tommy was so excited, he didn't catch Sapnap's request or the denigrating epithet.

"Look–when we don't show up at the UFO, 'e'll come 'ere, right?"

"Right," said Sapnap, wary.

"And the fastest way up to my 'ouse is the railway, even by just walking on it."

Tubbo frowned. "And you know this...how?"

Tommy ignored him. "So when Dream comes strolling up the railway, I'll just run 'im over! And then I get me disc back!"

"How did you not kill him with your train last time?" asked Sapnap.

"I dunno. I still don't even know what 'e was doing there in the first place." Tommy scowled at Sapnap.

Sapnap looked uncomfortable. "I don't...want him...dead."

"That's your problem, man," said Tommy, dismissive.

"If you kill Dream, I'm not helping you."

"Fine by me." Tommy grinned wickedly. "But if you do 'elp us, I'll give you all my emeralds."

Sapnap's eyes widened. "Deal."

Skeppy poked his head out the door. "Hey, are you coming back, Tommy?"

"Go away, Skeppy!" snapped Tommy.

"I thought you wanted me here, Mr. Grumpy-Pants."

Tubbo covered his mouth with his hand and made gagging sounds into it. Tommy, on the other hand, was in no mood to laugh. "You can take yourself and your big, smart mouth down the hill, Skepster."

Skeppy rolled his eyes, but departed the premises, muttering as he went.

Tommy turned on the other two. "We're doing this. I won't let Dream kill 'Enry. 'E can't keep getting away with killing people's animals." He headed back to his house. "Make ready. Then we'll wait in the train."

Ten minutes later, Tommy had donned his iron armor, while the other two wore an eclectic assortment of his extra gear. Sapnap pulled the helmet off. "You have a small head, bro."

"Hush up. This needs to be a surprise." Tommy led the way into the train waiting at the top of the tracks.

"Maybe you just have a big head," Tubbo shot back at Sapnap in a technical whisper, if not for the badly-contained laughter following it.

"SHHHHHH," hissed Tommy.

They waited in glum silence. Tommy paced the coach, going from one window to the other across from it. Where is 'e, the sod?

"Tommy–"

"Shhhh, Tubbo!"

"No, Tommy, i'n'at Dream coming up the hill now? And i'n' he riding my pony?"

Tommy flew to the window. Lo and behold, trudging up to the holiday house–not from the tracks as Tommy expected, but up the hill–came Dream on Tubbo's pony, wearing all his netherite, a definite glare emanating from the mask. The rucksack dangled off one shoulder.

Tommy tumbled out of the train, Tubbo and Sapnap behind him and then on top of him. Tommy shoved them off, scrambled to his feet, and tried to look intimidating.

Dream dismounted, and lost no time in getting into Tommy's face. "You weren't at the UFO, so I'm killing your cow." His gaze snapped over to Sapnap. "And now you're helping him again. Exactly what I'd expect from you."

" 'Old up, 'old up, 'old up, Dream," said Tommy, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. "Maybe we can talk this out. Just give us a moment."

"Where's Nightmare? It wasn't with all my other stuff. Where is it?" He motioned to the blade strapped to Tommy's side. "Is that it?"

Tommy still could not remember what had happened to Dream's sword. "No, Dream. This is mine." But maybe he had put it on and forgot about it? Tommy faced away from Dream and pulled the blade out halfway. No, definitely his own. He turned back around, crossed his arms. "It's me blade."

"I still need my sword, Tommy."

"I got it right here," piped up Tubbo, and handed a sheathed sword to Dream. Dream checked it.

"This is not my sword either."

"Oh, that's mine," said Tubbo, not sounding terribly concerned. "Guess we don't have yours after all."

Dream didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he pulled the sword out all the way, and pointed it at Tommy's chest. "Give me my sword. I'll kill your cow if you don't give it back."

'Enry. Tommy backed away, stumbling to his knees. "I swear, Dream, I don't 'ave it. I don't–please. Search me. Search my house. I don't 'ave it."

Dream regarded him in silence, keeping the sword pointed at him. "I don't know if I believe you."

Tommy gathered his courage and stood on wobbly legs. "Well then. You'll just 'ave to." And he drew out his sword.

"You asked for it," said Dream. He set the rucksack aside and raised the blade.

The swords met with a clang. The combatants backed up, then lunged at each other again. This time, Tubbo ran in with a knife. Dream did not back down, but met each of them almost as fast as each of them could strike at him. What he could not parry back, Dream dodged, fighting, dancing, turning, turning…But Sapnap came in just as hard, also refusing to retreat, and kept making moves at Dream where he couldn't guard or dodge as well. And then, in a fragment of a second where Dream hesitated, Sapnap came in from his unguarded side and swept his foot out, knocking Dream to the ground. Sapnap stamped on Dream's sword arm, and he released Tubbo's sword with a curse. Tubbo leapt up and grabbed his blade. Sapnap straddled Dream, his sword point centimeters from Dream's neck. With his enemy thus immobilized, Tommy searched him. After a moment, he straightened, weary. " 'E doesn't 'ave the disc."

"How about his rucksack?" said Tubbo, whose bee slippers had somehow survived the skirmish.

They shook it out, but no disc.

"Hey, Sap," hissed Dream. "If you don't quit this nonsense right now, I will kill your pet fish."

Sapnap bared his teeth, but he got off of Dream and stood to one side of him, demonstrating his new–or rather, old–alliance. Dream leapt to his feet, still looking menacing without a weapon.

"Sap, please don't betray us right now," said Tommy, trying to keep his voice even.

Sapnap gave him a sweet smile. "I'm not betraying anyone," he said, though his low voice carried a tremulous undertone. He turned on Tubbo, knocked him to the ground and ripped his sword from his hands. He tossed the blade to Dream, who brandished it at Tommy. "I still want those emeralds, by the way," Sapnap added.

"I don't actually 'ave any emeralds," said Tommy. "Not a chip. I'm dirt-poor. 'Ow do you like that?"

Sapnap's mouth fell open, but Dream knocked it shut for him. "I don't want to hurt you," said Dream, his voice surprisingly soft. "I just–I don't like being disrespected, especially in my own land."

Tommy flared. "Well, I don't like you threatening my animals!"

Dream lowered the sword. "Look, let's try bargaining again. If you give me Spirit, I'll give back Tubbo's sword...I'll even give your cow lifetime immunity. How does that sound?"

Tommy thought. "No. You already 'ave something on me with the disc. Spirit is the one thing I 'ave on you."

Dream's mouth hardened. "But my sword–"

"I don't 'ave your sword, Dream. I told you already. I'm sorry. I'm tired of fighting. Can we please forget this ever 'appened?"

For a moment, Tommy thought that Dream was going to run him through, whatever he'd said before. But Dream sheathed the sword and held out his hand. "Fine. A truce."

Tommy felt lighter, as if Nightmare had been at his neck the entire time, and only now had gone away, and he reached out to shake Dream's hand. But before he could, Dream pulled away.

"Not the end," said Dream.

Tommy shook his head. "No. Of course not."

Dream smiled and extended his hand again.

They shook.

"I still want payment for helping you," said Sapnap.

"You betrayed us, so you get nothing," Tommy shot back.

"You're going to regret that," Sapnap growled.

Tommy pretended he didn't hear him. Dream nodded to Tommy and Tubbo and disappeared down the hill, leaving Tubbo's pony behind, but taking the bee boi's sword with him. Sapnap followed, limping–though Tommy didn't remember his legs getting injured in their little skirmish–and he gave Tommy a look that would have curdled lemonade.

Tommy sighed. "I wish we knew where Dream's sword went. Now that would have made some sweet leverage."

Tubbo grabbed Tommy's arm. "I have something I want to show you," he whispered.

Tommy frowned. "What is it?"

Tubbo smiled. "Follow me."

Tommy followed Tubbo past the house, into the little grove of trees shadowing it to the north-east. Irritation mounted in Tommy. "Tubbo, wot is this about? I think it's time for dinner, and we might have to go hunting because I don't think I 'ave–"

"Wait, Tommy."

"Wot?"

Tubbo walked away from Tommy's side, still smiling. "I moved this miles away from where, you know, the accident happened," and he punctuated his words with a little spin. The bees almost flew. Tommy said nothing, too much in a daze to respond. In the shadow of a giant oak a few meters ahead of them lay a chest, completely out-of-place, but it could have been there for an eternity, and no one might have questioned it. Maybe because its rough, wooden exterior blended in well with the bark of the tree. Tubbo bounced up to it. "Look inside the chest."

Tommy walked up to it, apprehensive, but lifted the creaking lid and gasped.

Triumph filled Tubbo's voice. "We have leverage."

For there in the chest–the only item in the chest–enveloped in strips of linen, lay a sword. Tommy picked it up and removed the wrappings, but he already knew what it was before he saw the inscription emblazoned on its incandescent surface:

Nightmare.

Froggy: Merci beaucoup! Toute gloire à Dieu. :) Nous prévoyons d'écrire tout le smp, au moins jusqu'à un certain point. (Et je suis désolé si mon français est terrible. J'utilise Google Traduction.)

God bless,

Unicadia and VAERYS