A few hours earlier, Tommy sat by himself in his room, scrubbing at Nightmare, though it already gleamed in the lamplight. L'Dog snoozed at his feet. The minutes fell like sand through an hourglass. Technoblade left for the festival. Tommy could hear Wilbur rummaging about, getting ready to go, to destroy everything they'd work so hard for.

Adults. Think they know everything. Think they run everything. That's the problem with L'Manberg – Manberg. Too many adults. If it was just me and Tubbo, everything would be perfect.

Wilbur appeared in the doorway. Tommy concentrated further on his sword, not about to give Wilbur his attention. Wilbur's voice dropped in heavy, rhythmic notes, running the line of reason, and threatening to pitch over the other end into disarray. "Tommy. Please. Join me. L'Manberg is being detonated today whether you're on my side or not. But we've been through so much together. Don't drop this all over your weird ideas of – of – patriotism and heroism. This isn't a matter of heroism, Tommy. This is a matter of – of – of victory, of having the last word." He sighed. "I don't want anyone else to have our beautiful country. That's why it all must come down."

That makes about as much sense as laser cows. Tommy squinted at the netherite blade. "Does Tubbo want to do this?"

"Of course. Tubbo's on my side, Tommy." He laughed. "Daft child."

That didn't sound like Wilbur. Why did everything he say ring so hollow, like an endlessly pealing bell? Why did every sound clang like a mocking chorus of clowns in Tommy's ears? Why did it all remind him of that horrible day hardly a month ago, when everything around him pushed him away, leaving him with nothing but Wilbur and a dream? Tommy lifted his head, looked into Wilbur's haggard face, and forced the words out. "I'll...I'll go with you. At least for now." Someone 'as to keep 'im from doing it.

Wilbur's eyes flared with a frightening light. "Really? Splendid! So, here's the plan. Tubbo and I have already worked out a signal. He's going to give his speech, and when he says the words 'let the festival begin,' I will go to the secret place I've hidden the detonation button in and blow up the TNT."

Tommy felt sick. It finally registered in his head that Tubbo wanted to blow up L'Manberg. Why? How could he? That didn't sound like his friend, either. The words stewing around in his throat suddenly popped out. "We can take back L'Manberg! We still can!"

Wilbur's face darkened at once, and he turned around. "You've changed, Tommy."

Tommy flailed at the words. "No, I 'aven't – you – you're the one – the one who's changed! You know we could reclaim it. You know we could." Tommy fought himself to keep his voice under control. "We're not the villains, Will!"

Wilbur's voice rang throughout the caverns. L'Dog awoke and howled. "We are the villains, Tommy! We didn't win the election, and we're trying to fight for it back! L'Manberg looks oh-so-nice under Schlatt, haven't you seen it? He's made it into such a lovely little place! That's why we're the villains."

None of it made sense. "But why would you blow it all – why – you don't have to be a villain!

"Because if I can't have it, no one can, Tommy! I've said this." Wilbur's voice leveled, almost to a whisper. "No one should be allowed this…"

Tommy shook his head. "Will…"

Wilbur continued as if he hadn't spoken. "We need to set up a base within the town, so we can watch and listen." He paused. "Can we be friends? Just for today. Then you can go back to hating me."

A play. An act. That's why everything felt so cold and unreal. Tommy found his gaze drifting to the cavern ceiling, his mind wandering to the hot springs, to hot dogs, to warm nights when five young revolutionaries sang to the gentle notes of a guitar. "I don't hate you, Will. But yes. Let's be friends." He threw his shoulders back and drew his eyes down to meet Wilbur's. "But that doesn't mean I won't try to stop you."

Wilbur swept out of the room. "Come on, Tommy. We have a lot to do to get ready. Go bath first."

What more needed to be done besides the cleansing of Tommy's lovely filth? For all his absent-mindedness, Wilbur had become very thorough in his insanity. Tommy took a quick dip in the hot springs, then dressed and filled his knapsack with potions and his two ender pearls. He strapped on Nightmare, as well as a small quiver of arrows and a shortbow. Tommy met Wilbur in the entrance tunnel. The older man had strapped on a sword, and Tommy realized he had never seen his president bearing a weapon before.

"You ready to go to the festival, Tommy?" asked Wilbur. He hadn't bothered putting on any armor again. How could it still stand for peace now?

Tommy sighed. "Sure."

They trekked through the forest to the peninsula. The early afternoon sun watched them as they went, strangely warm for this time of year. Tommy thought of the coming winter, his first winter in this new land. He remembered last winter, back in Britain with his family. Bonfire Night, burning himself on a flaming stick he nabbed when no one was looking. Sledding with Tubbo. Choking on the Christmas pudding (and also burning himself because he had sampled some before the flaming brandy-soaked dessert was put out). Sitting through that boring Nativity play they put on every year; but his little cousin was in it, so of course he had to attend. What would they do here? Would they even have Christmas at all?

Eret's eastern tower soon broke the horizon, the rickety Manberg buildings glowering behind it. Tommy hoped the guards were too busy having fun at the festival to keep an eye on things. The country had aired out all her colors today. The buildings swung with banners and lanterns, the voices of citizens and visitors raised in jubilation, the flag in the distance by the great trestle bridge looming above all. Tommy frowned at it. Wilbur remained passive.

They slipped behind the gray tenement building just to the left of the stage. It was quiet here, with most everyone out on the community green playing party games.

Tommy whirled on Wilbur. "Where – where is the detonation button?"

Wilbur didn't even look at him. "I'm not telling you."

Tommy groaned. "Why? Why? Why?! But we're in this together!"

"Scout out a place for us to set up," hissed Wilbur.

"But, Will –"

"Now, Tommy."

Tommy sighed, but snuck out toward the stage. In the shade of the tenement, between it and the platform, stood a table piled high with small, decorated parcels. Truly a child who liked nothing more than getting things, Tommy slipped out from the safety of his hiding-place and examined the packages. A little white label adorned each one. Tommy read them: JMANSCHLATT, TUBBO BEE BOI, FONDUE, SQUAWKITY, GEORGIE PORGIE, RAPUNZEL, THE MUFFIN MAN, AWESAMDUDE, SUBPOENA, THE WOMAN, DREAM CAKES, THE OTHER MERCENARY, SKIPPER, DUMB KITTY, ERNIE, LEMON PAJAMAS, PIGMAN THING BLADE, WILLBUER, and – oh! – TOMMY OUTIT!

The child ran back to Wilbur, who hovered at the other end of the tenement, gazing down at the cliffs sheltering the bakery by the docks.

"Loooook!" Tommy squealed, earning a reproving frown from Wilbur, and he dropped his voice, but not his enthusiasm. "There's goodie boxes, Will! And WE got goodie boxes! WE GOT GOODIE BOXES."

Tommy dragged Wilbur to the table. Wilbur looked the parcels over. "Party favors?"

"Yes, Will, but LOOK! WE 'ave goodie boxes, too! Someone on the inside LOVES us. I bet Tubbo did that, since 'e's such a fine bloke."

"Or he's stupid, letting everyone know I'm alive. They misspelled my name."

"Well, you probably would have misspelled it as well. C'mon, Will! Let's open 'em!" Before Wilbur could respond, Tommy ripped open the parcel labeled "TOMMY OUTIT," and extracted five sour-smelling potatoes. Tommy staggered. "Why – why – TATERS?! Technoblade 'as a lifetime supply of these! Why not – why not – oh, I don't know, emeralds or gold or Dutch pastries?! Wot's wrong with you, Toob?!" He began reaching for the parcel labeled "DREAM CAKES," but Wilbur gave him a death glare, and he decided not to push it.

Wilbur's parcel contained gold nuggets (which turned out to be Nether warts painted a highly convincing yellow) and a new Manberg coin with Schlatt's face engraved on it. Wilbur threw the coin into the grass. "Let's go, Tommy."

"What do you think was in the other goodies boxes, Will? Do you think Techno's was shtupid also? What about Dream's?"

Wilbur didn't respond, but suddenly stopped and slammed a hand over Tommy's mouth, pulling him further into the shadow of the tenement. Tommy almost bit Wilbur's hand, when he saw a flash of pink and blue within the plaza, disappearing beyond them. He peeled himself away from Wilbur and wiped his mouth. "Will!" he whined.

"Shut up," snapped Wilbur. "She almost saw us." His voice softened, his gazed pained. "Where has she been? Tubbo said he didn't know where she'd –"

"She – Niki?" Who else could it be? The only female in Manberg – or the Dream SMP, for that matter.

Thought she was at my 'oliday 'ome. Ohhhh, I never told Wilbur about that.

"We need to set up our base," said Wilbur, to the point as always.

Tommy sighed. "Maybe backstage –"

"Sam will be working the sound equipment from back there," said Wilbur. He accosted the Off-White House gleaming above them on the hill like a dingy bathtub, then over at the tenement building they stood beneath. "Let's camp out on this roof."

They scaled the unfinished back wall of the tenement, utilizing pipes, uneven bricks, and exposed scaffolding to get up. Tommy peered into a window as he clambered around a bit of wobbly pipe. No curtains impeded his view, and he got a good look into the room. Nothing of interest beyond what one would usually find in a messy low-class flat – aside from a tank of fish and a little photograph pinned to the wall. Tommy squinted at it. 'Ey! It's Sap, George and Dream! Is this where Sapnap lives? Where'd they get a camera?

"Tommy," Wilbur called to him, and he continued on up.

Soon Tommy and Wilbur reached the rooftop, with a fine surveyance of the festival below. Tommy got down on his stomach and scooted right up to the edge. He found Technoblade talking to Nihachu by the refreshment table, both of them a little damp. The sole female in the land had dyed her hair pink since Tommy had last seen her. Tommy glanced at Wilbur, crawling up beside him, to see if he noticed, but Wilbur seemed to be taking in everything and nothing all at once. He didn't even comment on the wanted posters.

Fundy sulked by the dunk tank with Ponk, Bad Boy Halo, and Skeppy. Tommy hoped the fox-boi was too far away to hear them up on the tenement. He spotted the guards, Punz and Sapnap, making their rounds, and he remembered what Dream had said about Punz knowing every time Tommy had snuck into Manberg. Did the mercenary know he was here now? Tommy recognized the cat-boy, their temporary slave. And there stood Tubbo and Quackity, flanking Schlatt on the far side of the community green and observing the events. Tommy stared at his friend, remembered what Wilbur had said. Tubbo did not look like the trembling bee boi Tommy once knew, rushing to do the bidding of anyone who asked. He looked...almost imposing, his calm face beholding the festivities with reserved decorum. Did he really want to destroy everything? Quackity had that stupid crooked grin plastered all over his face. But otherwise, everything looked so jolly, and in spite of the circumstances, Tommy wished he was down there having fun with his friends instead of up here with Insanebur, wondering how he could stop a country from blowing up.

"Looks like just about everyone is 'ere," observed Tommy, trying to keep his irritation at bay. "Except George NotFound, of course." He watched Technoblade fill a plate with delicacies from the refreshment table. "You think we could go down there and snag some food, Will?"

"It's right out there in the open, Tommy. What do you think?"

Tommy grumbled. "Should 'ave noshed on something before we left."

Now the Manbergians – plus all the out-of-town guests – crowded onto the party island to dance. Bad electronic music just about drowned out thought. Tommy thought of 'Cat,' which would have made much better party music, but even so, he tried out some moves until Wilbur stopped him. Tommy groaned and scooted away from Wilbur. "Look at them, Will. Look 'ow 'appy they all look. If you blow up Manberg, you're not just getting rid of your enemies. You're getting rid of your friends as well."

"They're not my friends anymore. They went along with Schlatt. All of them. They mean nothing to me."

"Maybe – maybe they 'ad no choice. Maybe Schlatt said 'e'd kill them all. Di'n't you tell me? Di'n't you tell me, the day we got – we got banished – di'n't you tell me that Tubbo 'ad no choice? That 'e 'ad to do what Schlatt said? That 'e was jus' trying to survive?"

Wilbur said nothing.

Tommy tried again, leaning closer to Wilbur and dropping his voice. "Don't you love Niki? Come on, man! The girl of your dreams! If you don't win 'er over, then that freak-'eaded fox will get 'er! Don't that just – just make your gut twist?" Wilbur still didn't respond. Tommy leaned away. "What about Tubbo? 'E's still with us. 'E's even 'elping you ruin everything. Look! Tubbo is 'aving a lovely night. Look at 'im in his suit, man! 'E's growing up!"

Wilbur squinted down and cringed. "Oh, no – no, I don't – don't say that, Tommy. No, no, no…He could be a spy for Schlatt. We can't trust anyone. No one."

Tommy's brain swirled. "But – but di'n't you say 'e's on your side? Di'n't you set up a signal with 'im...?"

"Yes, but even if he doesn't say it, I'm still pushing that button. The signal was more so Tubbo and Technoblade would know when to leave than anything else. If they don't make it out, then too bad."

A fog muddled around in Tommy's head. You don't believe that, Will. You don't believe anything you're saying.

"Do you know what I'm doing here, Tommy?" Wilbur continued, oblivious, as if he were saying the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm creating a power vacuum, and you know who can fill it?" He looked over at Tommy, and a sly smile crept across his face. "I know you're going to like this one. You could fill it, Tommy, no? You could fill that power vacuum that I'm going to create…!"

Tommy rubbed his eyes. He didn't know what to think of that. All he could focus on at the moment was the end of everything he loved. He forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse. "Wilbur, but that's – Wilbur –"

Placid: "Yes, Tommy?"

Tommy sighed. "Nevermind."

Except for those two guards who didn't look so relaxed – Schlatt or no Schlatt, the people of Manberg and Elsewhere were free right now, not worried, not one of them having any idea that these few hours of the festival would most likely be their last: Ponk, Bad Boy Halo, Skeppy, the slave, Punz, Quackity, Nihachu, Fundy, Tubbo...

'Ow can I stop 'im? 'E's mad, 'e'll take no convincing. If I only knew where the button was...

Tommy glanced down and noticed Tubbo wandering in their direction, bearing a plate piled high with food. Tommy shook Wilbur's shoulder. "Oh, oh, oh! Will! Tubbo's coming this way! Signal 'im! Signal 'im!" Tommy broke off a piece of plaster from the side of the roof and dropped it close to Tubbo. The bee boi jumped and looked up. Tommy gave him a small wave and made an emphatic motion behind the tenement. Tubbo nodded and skirted the side of the building, around to the back.

Tommy crawled to the other end of the roof and peered down. " 'Ey, Toob."

"Hello," the tiny secretary of state whispered. "How's it going, man?"

Tommy waved at him. "Get up 'ere, Tubbs."

Tubbo looked at his plate and bounced on his heels.

"You can do it," urged Tommy. "Bring it up."

Tubbo began climbing, holding on with one hand while clutching the plate with the other. About three-fourths of the way up, he wobbled on the loose pipe, and most of the food tumbled off the plate to the ground below. When Tubbo finally struggled onto the roof, sliding the plate in front of Tommy, he looked close to tears.

Tommy gave him a couple rejuvenating smacks on the back. "Come on, Tubbo, you're fine."

Tubbo coughed, scrubbed at his eyes, glanced at Wilbur, who still lay on the edge of the roof. "Are we all good?" he whispered.

"You don't really want to blow everything up, do you?" Tommy asked.

Tubbo swayed. "I-I mean, if that's – what Wilbur wants to do..."

But what do you want! Tommy took his hand. "Maybe you can talk some sense into 'im."

They crawled over the roof to Wilbur and sat down.

"Hello, Will," said Tubbo. He held the meager plate out. "Want some?"

Tommy obliged him. Wilbur ignored the question.

"H-How are you liking the festival?" Tubbo asked. "I know you can't...be down there, but...I helped decorate! How about all those streamers? The lanterns? I really like those lanterns. I got the idea from all the lanterns in Pogtopia."

"Tubbo, you know the –" Wilbur heaved a sigh. "Tubbo, I'm having second thoughts."

Tubbo wilted, but Tommy's heart rose. Wilbur was coming to his senses on his own. Perhaps now they could save L'Manberg.

"What?" asked Tubbo.

"I – I don't know if I can – if I can follow through with our plan. Everyone could die if I blow up L'Manberg…I don't know…" His gaze looked pained again, and Tommy knew he was thinking of Nihachu.

Tommy took his chance. "We can get it back, man! We don't have to do anything today, you can take it slow –"

"When are you doing your speech, Tubbo?" said Wilbur. Tommy clenched his fists.

"Uh...probably in about twenty minutes or so. Why?" Tubbo popped a cheese puff in his mouth.

Wilbur's voice dropped to a mumble. "Twenty minutes, twenty minutes, is that enough time?" He looked Tubbo in the eyes and raised his voice. "Tubbo, is he a good leader?"

Tubbo chewed, swallowed, wiped his mouth, smearing his coat sleeve in yellow cheese. "J. Schlatt?"

"Just say it, just honestly say it. Don't sugarcoat it. You're not a spy here; right now, you're just talking to me, friend to friend."

Tubbo twisted his lips. "Yeah. Okay."

"So tell me. Is Schlatt good?"

Tubbo thought. "Well, he's made a lot of positive improvements, but he has some...strange ideals."

Wilbur's eyes narrowed. "Is that good enough to murder? Is that – is that assassination-worthy?"

"Look, Tubbs," Tommy stepped in, "wot Will's trying to say is – is it better this way? Are you 'appier, Tubbo?"

Why did Tubbo look so uncertain about it? He rocked back and forth. "Um...definitely not than when you guys were in charge…?"

"What are the chances Schlatt would give up if we just blew this entire place up, assuming he survived?" Wilbur queried.

"I think Schlatt would stop at nothing, if I'm totally honest with you," Tubbo admitted.

"But if there was no more L'Manberg – you're saying he'd keep going?"

"I don't know. He's been banished before and he came back. He's the kind of person to just build it all up again, I reckon. He's not a quitter, J. Schlatt isn't."

"Tubbo," said Tommy again, getting impatient, "do you think we should blow it up?"

The bee boi rocked faster. "Well...no? But, you have to do what you have to do."

Tommy nodded. "And we don't 'ave to. I'm with you, Tubbo."

Wilbur looked disappointed. "Tubbo, you told me before that you thought we should."

"Well, Wilbur, I – I trust your better judgment."

Wilbur's eyes turned cold. "Have you no opinions of your own?"

Tubbo blinked rapidly. "I –"

"You're just a 'yes man,' Tubbo."

" 'E is not just a yes man!"

"Tommy, you know it's not the first time Tubbo has done this." Wilbur turned on Tubbo, eyes burning. "Listen, Tubbo, if I say, 'let's blow up L'Manberg,' you'd do it, and if I say, 'let's not blow up L'Manberg,' you wouldn't do it. You always agree with whatever others say. You're hardly your own person."

Tubbo stared at the plate in his lap. He whispered, "I can be my own person."

"Then prove it. I'm going to let you decide this time. If you say, 'let the festival begin,' I will detonate the TNT. But if you don't, I won't push the button."

Tubbo nodded, trembling.

Will! That's –

"Go," said Wilbur, facing forward once more.

"O-Okay." Tubbo crawled toward the other end of the roof.

Tommy scowled at Wilbur. "Will –" He thought of something and turned after the bee boi. "Tubbo!"

Tubbo glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

Tommy managed an awkward smile. "Be safe."

Tubbo grinned. "Okay!" He started back again, when Wilbur sighed and turned his way.

"Tubbo! Look, Tubbo, don't –" He hesitated. "Don't worry. It will be all right. Whether I blow it up or not, I won't let you get hurt."

Tommy felt more relieved hearing those words than anything else Wilbur had said before. Even if we lose L'Manberg, I'll still 'ave good ol' Toob. He gave Tubbo a thumbs-up.

Tubbo returned the gesture, then scrambled over the edge of the roof. Tommy heard a small shriek and a dull thud, and he looked over the side to ensure Tubbo hadn't broken his neck. Tubbo lay in a small heap on the ground, the last of his party food decorating his hair and the grass around him.

"Are you all right, Tubbs?"

"Yes..."

Tommy left Tubbo to sort himself out, and returned to Wilbur, seething. "What are you thinking, 'aving Tubbo – Tubbo! – decide?"

"I gave my reasons," said Wilbur in a flat voice.

"That was just mean," Tommy muttered. Tubbo couldn't make decisions, not important ones, not without Tommy or someone smart and commanding and cool to help him out. But Tubbo was a gentle soul. He didn't want L'Manberg to die. He'd said so himself. He would make the right choice. He had to.

"Looks like Technoblade and Fundy are going up against each other," said Wilbur.

Most of the party attendees had abandoned the party island, and were now making their way to the boxing ring set up beside the dunk tank. Technoblade and Fundy already stood inside, armorless and weaponless.

Well, I suppose everyone 'as to die sometime, Tommy thought.

In a few swift moves, Technoblade had reduced the fox-boy to a heap not unlike Tubbo's, albeit a little more bruised. By the sound of it, the crowd had turned on the tall, pink-haired man, and Technoblade shot away from them on his trident. He sailed near to the tenement, but amazingly, did not see his two compatriots. Tommy watched as he landed near the refreshments table and struck up a conversation with Bad Boy Halo. Tommy's stomach rumbled. Tubbo's small profferings had not done much. "Will..."

"No, Tommy."

Tommy tried to focus his famished mind on ways to stop Wilbur from blowing up L'Manberg, but it kept drifting to sausages and cranberry rolls and apple cake. Perhaps he could steal away for a spell, grab some food before Wilbur noticed. Perhaps –

"EVERYONE GATHER IN THE MANBERG PLAZA!"

Tommy started out of his reverie, and whipped his head in the direction of the blaring voice. Quackity stood onstage with a huge megaphone, his sunglasses glinting. He twirled, all wings and smiles as he posed for a hundred invisible cameras. It was so him, but at the same time, very unlike him. More like a ceramic doll with too much paint that was starting to chip away.

"EVERYONE GATHER IN THE MANBERG PLAZA OR YOU WILL BE –"

Tommy glanced at Wilbur. "Will..."

"Soon," said Wilbur, his gaze riveted on the stage as President Schlatt and Tubbo took their places beside Quackity.

Tommy swallowed and watched the crowd forming below them. They all looked terribly close, even three floors distant, and Tommy scrunched further into the roof. "You think they can see us?"

Wilbur shrugged.

"Let's back up," said Tommy, rolling his eyes.

They slid away from the edge, no longer able to observe the crowd, but still with a decent view of the stage. Tommy began sweating, and his heart sped up. Soon, it would begin. Soon, a nation would live to see another day. Or it would fall.

Schlatt approached the microphone, all decorum until he tried talking into it and nothing happened. He turned away and snapped something at Quackity, who squawked and flapped away behind the stage, most likely to check on Sam. Schlatt tapped the microphone a few times, then leaned close to Tubbo and whispered something. Tubbo nodded, his face a neutral mask. Tommy wished he could hear what they were saying. Technoblade released some more fireworks from his launcher, to the delight of everyone watching, except for Schlatt and probably Wilbur. At last, Quackity returned, said something to Schlatt, and the president once again assailed the microphone.

"HELLO," blasted over the crowd in a shrieking wave of feedback. Schlatt tapped the microphone again, and repeated, "Hello, everybody. Welcome to the Manberg Festival!"

The crowd gave a few unenthusiastic claps. They had sounded more excited for Technoblade's fireworks.

Tommy hardly heard Schlatt's introduction, his gaze remained fixed on the little bee boi hovering at the president's side. What would Tubbo do? Tommy shook his head. Stupid Wilbur and his stupid ideals. Tubbo would do the right thing.

"And so," continued Schlatt, "without any further ado, I think I'll put big man Tubbo, my right-hand man, my protégé, up on the mic."

More applause. A couple people cheered.

Tubbo took a deep breath, wiped his forehead, took another deep breath, and squeaked into the microphone – a little too quickly: "A wise man once told me that L'Manberg was like a lettuce."

Tommy glanced at Wilbur, but Wilbur's passive face told him nothing. Tommy faced forward again, wondering how many of the others had noticed the slip-up. He hoped Schlatt hadn't.

"There's so many layers of tasty and healthy goodness," Tubbo continued.

Silence followed this statement. After just long enough to become awkward, Schlatt spoke up. "I said that. That was me."

"And once you wash the worms and caterpillars off the surface, it's a pretty fine meal."

"Yeah!" cheered Schlatt. Scattered applause. Someone yelled, "Cabbages!"

No stopping the bee boi now. "Schlatt has successfully washed all of the insects off our great nation, and with that, he's allowed the goodness and tastiness to shine through. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to look around at what we've built today. Look at each other." Tommy turned to Wilbur, feeling silly. Wilbur didn't even spare him a glance. That's when Tubbo's words registered, and Tommy wondered if his friend meant that Wilbur and he, Tommy, were the worms that had been washed off. "All of this, thanks to democracy and the leadership of President J. Schlatt."

The epitome of forced applause rang throughout the square. Tubbo bowed. "Thank you. Thank you."

"I love this guy," said Schlatt, placing a thin, heavy hand on Tubbo's shoulder.

The little teenager shivered, but pushed ahead, voice higher and louder than before as he came to the bitter, inevitable end. "And isn't that what this festival is all about? Democracy. Our people have been beaten down by rulers and dictators for so long –" Surely you don't actually believe that, Tubbo "– and now we are finally free. Free to elect who we want. Free to live how we want. And most importantly, free to go wherever we want without the confines of those huge black walls." Tommy shivered. I liked our walls. "So with that in mind, I'd like to thank everyone for coming to this wonderful event."

Tubbo stopped speaking, hands stiff at his sides, mouth shut in finality, and Tommy shivered again as the tension unwound. He settled deeper into the roof, a little out of breath, though he'd only been laying there. Tubbo hadn't said the dooming words. L'Manberg would survive. Tommy didn't look at Wilbur, but he didn't care what Wilbur thought. Not very much, anyway.

Schlatt chuckled.

Tubbo looked at him, his nervous smile flickering on. "What's wrong?"

Schlatt stared at the floorboards, arms behind his back, his feet tapping out an unheard rhythm. "I was just thinking about it, Tubbo. You know, how we were going to have fun."

Tubbo glanced at Quackity on his other side. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you have anything else to say, Tubbo?" Schlatt sounded as if he had just come to a very important decision.

Tubbo cleared his throat, lifted a hand to push away his bangs, knocking the microphone stand in the process and almost upsetting it entirely. "Uh, no. That's it, so let the festival begin."

Tommy blinked. Wilbur crawled toward the back edge of the roof.

Tommy kept watching, feeling cold, not really seeing the three clownish figures on the stage. He knew he should leave then, leave before death descended upon them all, but he couldn't move, could only lay there on the roof and think, Why, Wilbur? Why must it end this way? He heard Schlatt speak, but he did not register the words. He saw movement, but he did not comprehend it, did not care – not until he heard Tubbo's voice, cracking with fear, "Wait, Schlatt!"

Tommy looked at the stage, really looked, and saw that Schlatt and Quackity had tied Tubbo's arms between the two pillars on the stage. Tommy sat up, drawing his legs out until he could see the audience again, not caring if any of them noticed. Tubbo shook, tugging on the ropes, his gaze searching for someone who might rescue him. But Schlatt stared down at him with that infuriatingly pleasant look on his face, and Quackity's manic grin reminded Tommy too much of Wilbur from the past weeks. From the shuffling movement and indistinct murmuring below, the audience did not approve but were too indecisive to do anything.

Cowards, Tommy thought as he yanked his bow out and strung it. If Tubbo did not get out of there soon, he would be killed along with everyone else when Wilbur pressed the detonation button. Tommy's fingers fumbled with the string. Suddenly, Wilbur slid up beside him again, breathing hard.

"Wilbur, I thought –"

"Something's not right."

Tommy didn't bother keeping the sarcasm out of his tone. "You mean aside from Tubbo being 'eld captive down there?" The bow strung, he nocked an arrow and aimed at Schlatt.

Wilbur placed a restraining hand on his arm. Not again! Tommy glared at him. "Hold your fire," Wilbur hissed. "But be ready."

Tommy nodded, feeling better. "Okay." Wilbur knows what's important.

Schlatt spoke, still calm and even, as if informing the Manbergians of some policy change. "It's really awkward for me to say this right here in front of everybody."

Tubbo whimpered. "Sh-Schlatt, what-what's going on? Why are you doing this?"

Schlatt's voice lowered, his words stroking the air. "Tubbo. Tubbo."

"Yeah?"

"I know what you've been up to."

A nervous laugh from Tubbo. "What have I been up to?"

Schlatt faced the crowd. "What have I been up to, he says." He laughed. "What have I been up to." His voice suddenly pitched louder, and Tommy jumped. "You've been conspiring –! With the idiots – the tyrants that we kicked out of this great country."

A collective gasp rose from the audience. Tommy sat stiff and straight, everything aching from the tension in his neck and back, his arms frozen around the bow and arrow.

"E knows, 'e knows, 'ow does 'e know? No, no, no, this isn't 'appening. This can't be 'appening.

Schlatt turned on Tubbo. "I'm pretty sure you already know this, but treason isn't exactly a respectable thing around here. It all adds up, buddy! Your absence from great events – I mean, you walked off in the middle of this one! Don't try and tell me you've done nothing wrong. Because everybody knows it." Each sentence jumped louder or lower in volume, as if the president couldn't decide. Now Schlatt spoke so softly, Tommy almost missed it. "You know what happens to traitors, Tubbo? To liars?"

'Ow did 'e find out?

Tubbo looked from Schlatt to Quackity and back again. For some reason, he tilted his head back a little and scrunched up his shoulders, as if trying to hide the nape of his neck. A vague memory of something Tubbo had told Tommy pulled at the recesses of his memories, something that had happened in Manberg a few weeks earlier. He couldn't remember. Fear darkened Tubbo's eyes. "N-No."

"What do we do, Will?" Tommy whispered. His arms trembled from the tension on the bow. He could fire the arrow between Schlatt's eyes and it would all be over. Wilbur's words ran in his head: "Killing Schlatt wouldn't do anything…"

Wilbur didn't answer, but stared at the stage, eyes narrowed. Tommy wished Wilbur would say something, anything. He would know what they should do next, or at least reassure Tommy that everything would somehow be all right.

Quackity, the manic grin still on his face, shook his head as Schlatt faced the audience again, looking strangely too small for his suit. "Nothing good." A pause, then, "Hey, Technoblade, you want to come up here for a second?"

Technoblade rose from his seat, glancing around at the murmuring crowd, then shot into the air with the trident, landing on one end of the stage. "Hey, Mr. President," he greeted amiably. "What's goin' on here?"

Techno, what are you doing?

"Let's just send a message real quick," said Schlatt. "Now that we've got Tubbo in a – tub-box." He chuckled. Quackity joined in, so fake it hurt. Technoblade let out an uncertain laugh.

Tommy scoffed. Wot box? I see no box. The man is mad.

Schlatt's serene face betrayed nothing. "Technoblade, I only call you in for special favors. And we go way back, right?"

"I-I don't know what you mean."

Wilbur leaned close to Tommy. "We don't want to give ourselves away yet. But Techno will exact our revenge."

Tommy hadn't thought of that. 'E can kill Schlatt! 'E'll turn on Schlatt and kill 'im! "Okay, okay. We'll be okay." Tommy lowered the bow, wincing as his muscles relaxed.

Schlatt's voice resonated through the plaza. "Technoblade, I need you to take him out."

Tommy tensed, but waited.

Technoblade's warbled laughter rang in the autumn air. "Like – like take him out to dinner? Is it his birthday?"

Quackity's smile faltered. "Hey, what's going on, Pres?"

Schlatt smiled, but it looked more long-suffering than humorous to Tommy. "No, Techno. You're not going to take him out to dinner – bro, you're going to kill him!"

The audience gasped again.

"Oh! Ah!" cried Technoblade.

Tommy pulled the bow back again. No. No, no, no, no…Wilbur's hand on his arm tightened.

"We'll be fine. Techno will do the right thing," the older man reassured him.

Tommy nodded, automatic, but the bow remained up.

Tubbo glanced up at the roof where Tommy and Wilbur crouched, fear swimming in his eyes, the unspoken word: Help.

It's okay, Tubbo. Technoblade will sort this out.

Nihachu's clear voice pierced above the others, "No, you can't, Schlatt!"

Schlatt spun on them, shouting. "Because I will not tolerate traitors in Manberg! This ends now!" He turned back to Technoblade. "Kill him, Techno. Kill the traitor right now. On this stage. And make it hurt!"

"Schlatt, it's a festival, man!" cried Fundy.

"Techno, please don't, please!" Nihachu wailed.

"Are you kidding me?!" yelled Schlatt. "My right-hand man." He glared at Tubbo. "I'd rather go alone than with you."

Why does Tubbo look so crushed? Surely not, surely…

"Technoblade will kill Schlatt," Wilbur whispered again. "He won't hurt Tubbo."

Tommy's arms ached. The bow and arrow filled his hands.

"Oh no," said Technoblade, shuffling his feet and swinging the fireworks launcher like a yo-yo. "I'm in a high-stress situation. I deal with these poorly."

"Schlatt, listen, we've called him out. We can put him in jail or something," said Quackity, even as he slithered away, almost up to the platform's edge. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not enough,'' said Schlatt. He also backed away, surely knowing the only outcome of this day.

"Technoblade – Technoblade," whimpered Tubbo.

"I'm loadin' the launcher," said Technoblade, his voice wavering.

Every vein and artery inside Tommy's body pounded. How quickly could he get down there? A couple minutes at the very least.

No, Technoblade wouldn't. 'E's on our side. 'E has that trident. 'E can grab Tubbo and zip away.

But Technoblade's voice came to him as clearly as if he had been standing beside him. "I-I'm sorry, Tubbo. I'm...I'm facin' mild amounts of...peer pressure here. I'll make it as painless – and colorful – as I can." He fiddled with the fireworks launcher, raised it at Tubbo's face.

'E's on our side. 'E'll kill Schlatt. Wilbur said it would all be all right, e'll exact our revenge. Right?

Tommy glanced at Wilbur, but the rest of his body froze while his mind raced, too fast to make sense of anything.

"Stay strong, Tubbo," Wilbur whispered as his hold on Tommy's arm hardened.

The air shook with the thunder of red and blue and green spangles of fire. Smoke erupted from the stage.

"TUBBO!" Tommy screamed, lunging forward, almost pitching off the roof if not for Wilbur's restraining hand.

Pearl!

Tommy dropped the bow, thrust his hand into his knapsack, pulled out an ender pearl, and threw it as far as he could. Wilbur's grasp tore away, and in a moment, Tommy stood just below the stage. Above, Technoblade had turned on the crowd, laughing to bring the buildings, the clouds, the very sky down around them, firing the launcher at the screaming, fleeing people. Too preoccupied with surviving, none of them noticed Tommy. He barrelled up the steps to the stage, drawing out Nightmare. "I'm going to kill you, Technoblade! I'm going to kill you!"

Technoblade leapt off the platform as soon as Tommy reached it, and the vengeful teenager almost jumped down after him, but the site of the recent destruction drew his gaze.

Schlatt lay off to the side of the smoking debris in the middle of the stage, though gunpowder still blackened his face and hair. Tommy couldn't tell if he was alive or not. Where was Quackity? He must have toppled off the platform at the blast. But in the heart of the wreckage lay Tubbo, unconscious and stained black and red. The ropes binding him to the pillars had been incinerated. Fiery skin showed between the tattered remains of his suit. Tommy couldn't even recognize the poor boy's face anymore. Tears spilled from his eyes, but he heaved up the body of his best friend in all the world, reached into his knapsack, and threw his last ender pearl. The stage vanished, and the cacophony of voices and firework bursts fell behind them as they reappeared just within the boundaries of Manberg. Tommy hoisted Tubbo up again and staggered out of town, praying no one would see them, praying that no one would pursue them.

"Everyone go after Tommy Innit!" he heard Fundy's hoarse yell from faraway. Apparently someone had noticed him.

No. Please. No.

I could've gotten to 'im in time. I could've shot Schlatt. But Wilbur said…

I do like the decorations, Tubbo. They are splendid. Even if they were for your execution...

Wilbur…why...Technoblade, you…you…

A sound like a rushing wind whistled up from behind, and then Technoblade himself landed in front of Tommy with his trident in a hair-whipping gust, a thin shower of water droplets descending upon them soon afterwards.

"Here, kid, let me carry him."

Tommy almost fell over, but clutched Tubbo's body tighter. "No! You can't 'ave 'im!"

"Kid, I'm sorry. Schlatt would have had both of us killed if I hadn't done it."

"You're a traitor! Just like everyone else!"

Technoblade knelt, arms extended. "You're not goin' to get him back to Pogtopia before he dies, before one of those guards gets both of you. Let me carry him."

Before 'e…dies…?

Tommy couldn't move, could only tremble, vision blurred by hot tears. He shook his head, buried his face in Tubbo's bloody hair. He felt Technoblade pull his friend from him, and his hands fell away. Tommy realized – truly realized for the first time – how young and small he and Tubbo were in this huge world of adults.

They walked the long way back to Pogtopia, the tall man with hair like the dawn, and the little boy dragging his feet after, the world frozen in splinters around them. Everything retreated into the darkness cornering Tommy's mind, leaving him alone with a shell that surely didn't belong to him. Someone else had been banished from his beloved country. Someone else was watching the man he looked up to most succumb to insanity. Someone else's best friend had been killed today.

The fire-colored trees closed above their heads, and they slipped down the hill to the cliffs of their secret base. They entered the hidden entrance, down the winding steps, passed through the main cavern to the little cold spring, which Technoblade laid Tubbo beside. L'Dog let out a joyful bark of welcome, but sobered when he saw Tubbo. He sat next to Technoblade and whimpered, as if mourning.

Some feeling returned to Tommy, and he knelt next to the older man, his brain racking up a tangle of thoughts.

Water, bandages, no, it's too late. If only I 'ad…if only Wilbur 'ad...if only Techno 'adn't…

Technoblade reached out as if to touch Tubbo again, but Tommy smacked his hand away. L'Dog growled – at Tommy. "I can take care of 'im now. You can go. You can go jump off a cliff, for all I care."

"Kid, we need to get water on those burns stat if you want your friend to live."

"Go away. This is your fault."

"Tommy, do you know how to save his life? Do you know what needs to be done?"

"I don't want – he's already –"

Technoblade pushed Tommy out of the way. L'Dog jumped to his feet, hackles raised, teeth bared at Tommy. "Tubbo doesn't have time for your pride, Tommy." Technoblade glanced at L'Dog. "Chill." L'Dog sat again, head bowed.

Tommy wanted to fight, wanted to take Tubbo back, make Technoblade hurt, make him hurt a hundred times over for what he did to Tubbo. But he didn't know what to do. He wasn't even convinced Tubbo was still alive. So he sat back, anger and grief wracking his bones. Technoblade lifted Tubbo and slid him into the pool, propping his blond head on the rocks along the side. He scooped the water into his hands, poured it over Tubbo's face and neck, then took a knife and began cutting the scorched suit off. This angered Tommy more than anything else, and he sat on his hands to keep from knifing Technoblade in the stomach.

Unaware of his near-murder, Technoblade spoke, not looking up from his work. "Tommy, go get bandages, my herb pouch, and a healin' potion. Then light a fire in the pit."

Tommy said nothing, but went and fetched the items. By the time he returned, Technoblade had stripped Tubbo of most of his clothing. He took the potion from Tommy, uncorked it, and poured a little into Tubbo's mouth while holding the boy's jaw steady between two long fingers. "Tommy, the fire."

Tommy left and lit the fire in the pit. Squatting on his heels, he scowled into the pulsing flames, watching them lick up into nothingness, reappear as floating sparks, fireflies in the deep of the eternal night above. Fire death and resurrection. Please don't let 'im die. Please let 'im live. Please. I'll never ask for anything else as long as I live. Was it his fault, for not doing something sooner? Wilbur's fault for stopping him? Or was it Technoblade's fault, for doing the deed? He clenched his fists. Tubbo, ruined, defenseless, in the hands of the man who tried to kill him. He returned to Technoblade, who had just finished smearing a clear gel from a plant tentacle over Tubbo's skin.

"Tommy..." Technoblade heaved Tubbo out of the water and carried him to the fire pit. L'Dog pattered after him. "Bring everythin' over here. Don't forget my herb pouch and the aloe vera."

Tommy gathered all the items, and followed, wary. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I don't think you want to stick around for this."

Tommy raised his voice. "What are you going to do to Tubbo? I'm not – not leaving 'im alone with the likes of you! What do you take me for?"

Technoblade lowered the boy onto the ground a few meters away from the fire. "I'm not goin' to hurt him – at least not in a way to make him worse. I'm tryin' to save his life. And to do that, I'm goin' to have to...perform some impromptu surgery."

Tommy's brain swam. "Surgery?! You're not a doctor, Techno! Do you know what you're doing?"

"Better than you." Technoblade extracted his knife again and sharpened it on a stone. He held the blade in the fire, turning it in his hand as if roasting a hot dog. Tommy watched, still standing. Technoblade leaned over Tubbo, knife glinting in hand. Tommy stared – and turned away. He wrapped his arms around L'Dog and buried his face in the rough, smelly fur. He would remain here, but he wouldn't watch. He knew it was necessary, of course he did. But he hated the thought of Technoblade taking a knife to poor little Tubbo's already mutilated body. He hated thinking of the pain his friend must be in, and was glad he was unconscious.

Tommy awoke to the sound of voices, Wilbur's harsh one rising above them all. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember when he fell asleep. He lay wrapped in a pile of blankets in a cave in Pogtopia. A dream...? Was it the next day? Exhaustion weighed heavy on every limb, though he had been sleeping. Probably the same day. He jerked upright. Not his own cave. Tubbo lay on a second pile of blankets beside him. Tommy leaned over him, shoving the blankets off to the side. The boy looked like a mummy indeed, every centimeter of him wrapped in bandages, except for two tiny slits at his nose and mouth. He still hadn't come to, but Tommy could hear a faint sigh whistling in and out of the slits. " 'E's alive...!" Tommy gasped, and would have thrown his arms around his friend had he not been a mummy.

Technoblade...Tommy straightened, new resolution firing through him. He ran out of the cave and saw that it lay across from his own room, over the largest of the wooden bridges. He ran down the carved-out steps to the main cavern below. Technoblade and Wilbur stood there, talking, and just behind them in the shadows, clutching Wilbur's hand –

"Ni'achu...! Wot are you doing 'ere?"

Wilbur glanced at Tommy, his face unreadable. "I brought her here, after Schlatt almost tried executing her, too. She's joining us."

"Hello, Tommy," Nihachu whispered. She looked a little ruffled, like she had been running and only recently caught her breath. Her strawberry Swiss roll buns sagged on her head.

But Tommy forgot about her almost at once as he turned on Wilbur. "Will! You said 'e wasn't going to 'urt Tubbo! You – you said 'e was –" He whirled on Technoblade, forcing all his anger into a plank of a level voice. "Why did you kill 'im, Techno?"

Wilbur laughed, too loud, as usual. "Ooooh, look out, Technoblade; Tommy's angry. Look at him, look at his eyes."

Technoblade met Tommy's gaze, unperturbed. "I didn't kill him, Tommy. He's alive. He's well on his way to recovery...hopefully. And you know, I had set the launcher to minimum power. I was doin' my best. But I was under threat. You gotta understand."

Tommy marched up to him, stared the taller man right in his blood-red eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

Technoblade considered. "A lot of things, really. I have a small attention span. I'm bad at conversion. Don't really deal with social conversation well. I might have committed tax fraud recently –"

It all came out. "TECHNOBLADE, YOU ALMOST KILLED TUBBO."

"Ah, yes, and the murders. Look, if I hadn't followed Schlatt's orders – you were there, you saw. There were like, twenty dudes there who would have jumped me, Tommy. There were the guards, our cat-eared slave, Schlatt's weird pet thing…"

Tommy couldn't believe the words coming out of Technoblade's mouth. "You can literally fly with that trident. You can literally fly!" I could 'ave flown with my pearl, if I'd only been quicker…But Wilbur…But 'e thought Techno was on our side, too. It's 'is fault.

"I need water to fly, Tommy! I can only fly with –"

"You could 'ave jumped in the pool below the stage."

"A lot of things could have gone wrong, Tommy. Like I said, Schlatt would have killed both me and Tubbo if I hadn't done anythin'."

"Yeah, and then you went a'ead and shot everyone in the audience."

"I didn't kill anyone or even hurt anyone. It was a diversion. A distraction. So you guys could grab Tubbo and get out of there. And it worked." Technoblade actually had the audacity to look proud of himself.

"No!" Tommy shouted. "You could 'ave tried 'arder! Who cares if you put it on mimi-num power or whatever! That's all bosh! 'Is face and body are ruined! 'E could still die and it's all your fault!" He paced in front of them. "You just betrayed us all – all of us – Pogtopia. You betrayed us!"

"I – I don't know about you, Tommy, but I forgive Technoblade," cut in Wilbur, his face still twisted with that mocking laugh. He extracted a cigarette and lit it.

Tommy shook. Thoughts collided in a bewildering swirl. Wilbur had said it would work out, that Tubbo wouldn't get hurt, but Technoblade had just gone and blown up his best friend. His voice came out as a squeaky screech. "I do not forgive Technoblade! 'E jus' murdered Tubbo!"

"Almost murdered," Technoblade corrected.

"It don't matter! You tried to do it! Niki, what do you think –"

"Well, what do you want to do about it?" said Wilbur. He pulled at the cigarette and leaned against the cave wall. With his free hand, he reached out to Nihachu, and she reluctantly slid into his embrace.

"I want 'im to leave!" Tommy spat. "I want 'im to get out of 'ere!"

Technoblade continued in his irritatingly calm voice, so horribly reminiscent of Schlatt's just hours earlier. "You think you can destroy Manberg without my help? You sound like a whiny little orphan, Tommy."

Tommy lunged forward to smack Technoblade's face, but the legend caught his hand in an iron grip.

"Go be next to your president, Techno!" Tommy seethed.

"Do you want to fight, Tommy?" hissed Wilbur. He blew out some smoke, leaned forward, an arm still draped over Nihachu's shoulders. "Look at him, Tommy. Look at that face. He tried murdering your best friend. In front of a crowd." He drew back again. "Come on, Niki, rile them up. Get them angry. I want a fight."

Nihachu shrugged off his arm, like it was a snake. "Wilbur, what's..."

Wilbur ran to the large cave with the sunken floor they used for training in. He tapped the cigarette, dusting the rocks with ash. "Fight in here. It's our fight pit. Oh, this is going to be great, I can't wait. Come on, Niki, help me rile them up before they fight."

Nihachu sighed. "I-I can't. I forgive him also."

"Thank you, Niki," said Technoblade with an appreciative nod.

"Wha–" Tommy gasped. Was everyone going mad? Was everyone as insane as Wilbur?

"Think about it," said Nihachu. "It makes sense. It was you three versus the entire nation of Manberg."

"Exactly!" cried Technoblade.

"And he was being threatened."

"Yeah!"

"I don't think there needs to be infighting..."

"So you're saying they shouldn't duel in the pit?" Wilbur sounded decidedly sulky.

Nihachu frowned at him. "Yes..."

"Let's fight," said Technoblade, looking Tommy square in the face. "I think he needs to get out some of his rage."

Tommy hated it when people talked about him like he wasn't standing right there. He remembered Techno pummeling Fundy into a pulp earlier that day, but he wanted nothing so much then as a chance to land some punches on that stupid face of Techno's, regardless of his exhaustion. So armorless and weaponless, they both got down in the pit, Wilbur leering over them with a gleeful grin, Nihachu watching from behind, troubled.

"Look at Tommy," said Wilbur. "Look at him, Niki. Even after everyone said they forgive Technoblade, he still got in the pit to fight. This is a man driven by his emotions, not by political goals."

Man. Tommy didn't think Wilbur meant it the same way as when he had said it before. When was that? He hardened his jaw. Too long ago.

When we 'ad our pretty big and beautiful L'Manberg.

Technoblade cracked his neck.

Tommy looked up at Wilbur and Nihachu, the former about ready to shove him forward, the latter shaking her head.

"We can settle our feelin's with our fists," said Technoblade, "but when we come out of here, win or lose, no hard feelin's. It stays in the pit."

Tommy faced him, level once more. "You almost killed Tubbo, Techno."

"Hit him! Hit him, Tommy!" Wilbur cried. "Punch him!"

"I'm not doing this for Wilbur," said Tommy. "None of this 'as to do with Wilbur anymore. You just – you betrayed us."

"I was peer-pressured!"

The fire stoked up again. "You can't jus' – you can't –!"

"Look, there were twenty guys that would have shot me where I stood –"

"YOU CAN'T JUS' KEEP SAYING THE SAME –!" Tommy barrelled forward, pure hatred blocking everything else, his exhaustion draining away, fully intending on ripping Technoblade's head from his body. His enemy grabbed his arms before he even made contact, and swung him onto the ground with a hard thump. Tommy sprang back up, though his limbs ached and his palms stung, and he ran at Technoblade again.

"Yes!" cried Wilbur. "Yes! Get it out, Tommy! Think of what he did!" His voice dropped, menacing and eager: "Think of what he did to Tubbo."

Technoblade caught Tommy and flattened him on the ground a second time.

The teenager staggered to his feet, made a feeble swing at Technoblade, and collapsed, scratching his nose on the rocky floor. Every burden which had dissolved in that heat of adrenaline and emotion now sank over him again, heavier than before, and he didn't think that he would be able to get up.

"There we go," came Wilbur's voice, sounding relatively more normal. "There we go."

"It stays in the pit," Technoblade rumbled above him. "The conflict has been resolved."

"That was perfect," said Wilbur. "That was absolutely perfect." A pause as he probably took a drag upon the cigarette and let out the smoke. "Thank you. I'm satisfied. I'm – I'm satisfied with today."

Tommy lifted himself off the ground, trembling. Technoblade had already climbed out of the pit, now standing with Wilbur in the entrance to the cave. He couldn't see Nihachu. Tommy sat there, rubbing his knees, not thinking, but the heat of injustice endured within him, even as all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep into eternity.

"I tried detonating the bombs after the execution," said Wilbur in a careless tone, and Tommy clenched his fists. "They're still there. As far as I can tell. But I couldn't remember where I installed the button. I might need to wire a new detonation button. But when we do it next time, Technoblade, are you ready to –?"

"Oh, Wilbur, I have some ideas for destroyin' Manberg."

"Ohhh, I'm excited."

Tommy shuddered.

Technoblade leaned close to Wilbur, but he didn't drop his voice much, so he must not have cared if Tommy heard or not. "I haven't told anyone this yet, but in my travels I came across the materials to make two creatures of mass destruction, the likes of which this land has never seen before."

Wilbur gave Technoblade a small bow. "It would be my honor for you to show me those, and you to help me out." He turned away. "I'm not going to keep you from whatever you have to do." He glanced at Tommy. "Tommy, I know you're angry at Technoblade, but like, you need to set that aside now."

Tommy stood, shaking a little. "You tried killing him, Techno! He might still die!"

Wilbur didn't respond, but disappeared from view. Technoblade, however, remained and gazed down on him, and Tommy was surprised to see something almost like disappointment in the taller man's eyes. "It stays in the pit, Tommy."

"It wasn't in the pit! I – I thought you would 'ave stopped yourself from killing Tubbo on J. Schlatt's orders, but you still did."

"It stays in the pit."

"It wasn't in the pit!"

"We were goin' to resolve our conflict in the pit, you threw the first punch –"

Tommy groaned. "We didn't resolve our conflict!"

Technoblade knelt at the edge of the sunken floor, his head now just about level with Tommy's. When he spoke next, his voice came out low and dangerous, but steady, almost gentle. Tommy felt his fire cooling at the sound. "Tommy, the thing is, you're usin' words...but the thing about this world, Tommy, is that the only universal language is violence. And we've had that conversation. We've spoken that language, in the pit." He stood. "It's over, Tommy. On to a new day, a new plot – to destroy Manberg." He laughed and swept away down the cavern, the red cape swirling behind him like a banner of blood.

Tommy crawled out of the pit, his mind pounding, but nothing concrete rising above the torrent. As he came out, he saw Nihachu hovering off to one side of the cave entrance. "Do you need a bandage or water, Tommy?" she asked.

He straightened, lifted his head. He thought he might fall over right then and there, but he forced the word out. "No."

"Can you come with me?" She held out her hand. Tommy hesitated, unsure, just wanting to go to bed then, but she smiled, a simple, quiet smile, something he felt he had not seen in a long time, and he relinquished his hand.

She pulled him along, while Tommy's mind drifted like a wind-blown leaf, until they stopped short of the rocky stairs leading to Tommy's room, and she said, with a little laugh, "I don't know how to get out."

"Oh, this way." He took her up the steps and out the entrance tunnel, back outside where the world darkened under the sinking sun. "Where to?"

"Let's go up there," she said, indicating the cliffs. Tommy inwardly groaned, but he couldn't say no to Nihachu. So they climbed the hill up to the precipices of Pogtopia and sat on the edge, feet dangling. Neither of them spoke.

Far in the distance, the leafy carpet of blazing treetops surrendered into the horizon where the dying sun bled in the same colors, staining the sky pink and orange and violet. Tommy thought of the times he and Tubbo had sat on the bench by his hill house, listening to 'Cat,' watching the sunrise or the sunset. He thought of that last morning, when Wilbur had come rolling down Prime Path in the Camarvan, and Tommy wondered – for the barest, briefest moment – what might have happened had Wilbur never entered his life. His eyelids drooped. Maybe this was all just a dream. A very strange and bad dream, and he would wake up in his own room in his house in Brighton, see the dark sky outside the window, and sigh with relief, knowing that Tubbo was just down the hill in his own little bed, and that tomorrow they would conspire about running away and…

"Tommy," Nihachu whispered, "is...Wilbur all right?"

Tommy opened his eyes. " 'E's downright catty. An absolute nutter."

Nihachu said nothing for another long time. The light on the horizon dimmed. Soon the dirge for the passing sun would begin, and they had best not be found here still when the mobs came out to mourn or to rejoice, who could say? "Let's stick together, Tommy," Nihachu said at length. "You, me...and Tubbo."

Tears filled Tommy's eyes, and he wiped at them before Nihachu noticed. Not a dream. "Yes. Us three."

"Everything will work out," Nihachu added, and Tommy didn't know if she was saying it for him or for herself. Maybe for both of them. "We need L'Manberg back."

He nodded. "L'Manberg can rise again."

Nihachu did not answer, but rested her head on Tommy's shoulder, and for the first time, Tommy understood in some small way what it might be like to have a sister

Thank you for reading this next installment!

God bless,

Unicadia and VAERYS