To be honest, even as Wilbur was falling asleep, he had a feeling something like this would happen. He had angered Nightmare, and the demon's control over Charlie meant that it was almost impossible to talk to one without the other. Wilbur had already guessed that Nightmare would step in to try to prevent him from making contact.

Still, when he dropped into sleep, the last thing he expected was to open his eyes to see a pale-furred, beautiful, painfully familiar prime ape standing above him. Her big blue eyes were wide in amusement, and she had one claw extended as if to poke him awake. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead," she purred, nudging her extended claw against his cheek. "You awake, or should I poke you more?" Without even waiting for a response, she poked him again, this time against the forehead. "I could do this all day."

It took him several minutes to find his voice, but even though he swallowed heavily to rid his mouth of spit, he still choked on the name. "R-Roselyn?"

"Oh good, you're not brain damaged," she teased. "Honestly, it's easy to get worried about things like that. Considering... you know." She motioned vaguely towards him, wearing a grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

He stared at her for several more moments, mouth uselessly opening and closing, before finally remembering what was happening. "N-no, wait, I need to talk to Charlie." He pushed his palm against his forehead, chastising himself. Roselyn is dead, Wilbur. You watched her die. This is just a dream.

"Oh what, am I not good enough?" Roselyn wrapped her long tail around her feet and touched Wilbur's nose with the tip of it. "I'm not sure how I feel about you talking to other girls." She was still grinning, leaning forward until their faces were only a few inches apart. "Why do you need to talk to Charlie?"

For a second, Wilbur almost apologized to the vision. It wasn't until he heard the smallest growl in the name 'Charlie' that he realized that this wasn't just a dream.

Nightmare is purposely stopping me.

"Nightmare, you had a perfect opportunity to show off your namesake, but you went with the 'dream that you don't want to leave' trope?" Wilbur grumbled. "What I want with Charlie is none of your business." He turned, showing his back towards the fake Roselyn. "If you want to fight me, then fight me. Drop the theatrics!"

"This isn't about that boy again, isn't it, Wilbur?" Came Roselyn's voice from behind. "Have you forgotten about your real child? I can't believe you would have fallen so hard to choose a random kid off the street over your own daughter!"

"Elizabeth is an adult now! She can handle herself!" Wilbur sniped back. "Don't even try that on me!"

He started to march away, but was quickly interrupted by a tiny figure bounding into view. Her fur was darker than Roselyn's, but not by much, and she had deep brown eyes that caught the sunlight. Wilbur immediately stopped, every muscle in his body suddenly freezing as emotions washed over him. The young prime ape lost whatever it was she was chasing into the sand and growled at it, before catching sight of Wilbur staring at her.

"Pa?"

He nearly choked on air. She was as small as the day he last saw her, no longer the muscled adult Nightmare had shown him before. Her tail was still short and stubby, sticking straight up in the air.

Wilbur took a shaky step back. He had to force himself to breathe, but even with forceful attempt he was struggling to get the right amount of air into his lungs. He hadn't chosen anyone over anyone. Elizabeth was an adult. She didn't need his protection anymore. Tyler was still a child, not even old enough to be away from his parents. He chose what he thought was right. But staring into the questioning eyes of this fake version of his daughter, Wilbur suddenly caught himself questioning everything he had done up until this point. Why had he betrayed Maxwell and Nightmare? If he had never stopped helping Them, then Roselyn never would have been killed, and Elizabeth never would have been taken away from him.

But it's not my fault.

He hadn't killed Roselyn. Nightmare had. He had sliced her open from chin to tail and forced him to watch, just out of reach, as she bled to death. He couldn't touch her or hold her as blood pooled around her body, staining her pale fur red, or as her ocean blue eyes desperately sought out saving, as her voice disappeared into harsh gurgling sounds as she choked on blood, as she reached out for him with the last of her energy, begging him to help, as he did nothing-

Commotion snapped him out of the spiral he was collapsing into. Elizabeth saw something over his shoulder and shrieked, scrabbling to run away as a shadow fell over them.

"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU NEED ASSISTANCE."

Wilbur snapped his head to look at the newcomer, decidedly not recognizing the voice like he had expected. He had anticipated to see Nightmare, cackling at his panic or watching calmly as Wilbur spiraled into rage and helplessness. Instead, the person before him was different, a distinctive aura of other coming from him that Wilbur recognized coming from Them. Or death. It was hard to tell.

Wilbur bet on death. He had the clear appearance of a Survivor, one who had quite terribly failed if the hole carved out of his chest meant anything. Still, he had seen many Survivors in his time, and none of them had been robots.

"Who... are you?" He asked hesitantly. "Definitely a Survivor at some point. I don't think I've ever known a Survivor to be able to dream hop, though. Even after death."

The newcomer was silent for a long moment. The fake Roselyn was gone, as was Elizabeth, leaving Wilbur alone with the stranger. Finally, he answered: "I BELIEVE YOU WOULD KNOW ME BEST AS THE MARTYR."

"Tyler's friend?" Wilbur said quickly, eyes widening in surprise.

The Martyr shook his head. "PLEASE DO NOT TELL ME HE GOES BY THAT AWFUL NAME NOW."

"Ouch. Rude friend."

"YOU CAN SEE WHY WE WERE FRIENDS."

Fair enough.

"What are you doing here, then? And, um, how are you here? Like I said, it's not exactly a power most people have to still exist in dreams after death."

"I CANNOT ON MY OWN. CHARLIE SENT ME."

"Whoa, you're in cahoots with Charlie?"

"WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO ANSWER EVERY QUESTION YOU MIGHT HAVE," The Martyr grumbled. "CHARLIE IS CURRENTLY OCCUPIED. IT IS DIFFICULT TO PREVENT NIGHTMARE FROM INFLUENCING WHATEVER IT WISHES, SO MAKE IT SNAPPY, MONKEY."

"Right. Snappy. Um. Okay so listen. Tyler can't decide if he wants to go back to the Mainland or stay on the Archipelago. I tried to talk to both parts of him- really creepy by the way, don't recommend it- and it appears Webber wants to stay. But Tyler also feels like it's his... job? To go back. I'm worried because he's clearly been hurt before by his companions so I wanted to ask Charlie what the best option was. Charlie can see vague glimpses of splitting timelines so I was hoping she could help us figure it out...?"

The Martyr appeared to think for a moment. "I HAVE HEARD THEM SPEAKING," he said thoughtfully. "WHEN HE BELIEVES THEY ARE NOT LISTENING. CHARLIE AND I HAVE HEARD SOME OF THESE DISCUSSIONS BETWEEN YOU AND WEBBER, AND SHE HAS SHARED WITH ME THAT HE MUST GO BACK. HOWEVER... YOUR CONCERN IS WARRANTED. THAT IS WHY YOU MUST GO WITH HIM."

"What? To the Mainland? You want me to just leave my home of thousands of years for this?"

"I TRUST YOU," he said simply. "YOU HAVE KEPT HIM SAFE IN MY ABSENCE. I BELIEVE YOU WOULD DEFEND HIM WELL IN THE FUTURE AS WELL. YOU ARE THE ONE TRUE HEIR. UNFORTUNATELY, WE ALL HAVE JOBS THAT MUST BE FULFILLED. YOU BOTH MUST RETURN."

"Charlie has told you this?" Wilbur demanded. "I get that you were his old friend, but you are still just a Survivor. You don't know what she knows."

"SHE HAS TOLD ME EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW," The Martyr snapped. "THE HOST WAS POSESSED. THE SISTER WILL MAKE CONTACT WITH CHARLIE. THE MARTYR WAS KILLED. THE ONE TRUE HEIR AND THE YOUNG HEIR MUST RETURN."

"And what happens if we don't?" Wilbur challenged. "What happens if we stay?"

The Martyr stared incredulously at him. Almost like Wilbur had offended him deeply in some way and couldn't believe anyone would dare to say those things. "THE WORLD WILL NOT RESET."

"What?"

"THAT IS ALL I KNOW. THEY TALK ABOUT THE FUTURE. I HAVE HEARD OF SOMETHING THEY CALL A CYCLE. ONE THAT CHARLIE INSISTS MUST BE COMPLETED ONE LAST TIME. UNFORTUNATELY, THOUGH THEIR TONGUES ARE LOOSE IN MY PRESENCE, THEY DO NOT SHARE EVERYTHING."

"So, once again, we're being told that 'destiny' is forcing us to do something. What if he doesn't want to go back? You're more than happy to just force him to do that? Don't you care at all about his happiness?"

"OF COURSE I DO. I TOLD YOU WHAT I WAS TOLD TO TELL YOU. YOU WANTED ADVICE FROM CHARLIE, AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I GAVE YOU." The Martyr crossed his arms and an annoyed look came over his face. "DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL." He turned as if to walk away, but Wilbur took a hasty step forward.

"Wait."

The Martyr paused.

"Is... there anything you want me to tell Tyler? Anything you wish you could tell him?"

The Martyr smiled faintly as he turned his head just enough for Wilbur to see his face. "TELL HIM THAT THE THOUGHT IS SWEET, BUT I HAVE NO USE FOR THEM. TELL HIM TO SAVE THEM FOR SOMEONE ELSE."

Then, Wilbur was waking up.

The sky was darkening, likely just hitting dusk, and Tyler was sitting beside him, poking at a crackling fire with a stick. He must have made some noise to alert him, because Tyler turned to look, eyes glimmering with cautious hope. "Did you talk to them?" He asked, a bit too excitedly.

Wilbur mumbled incoherently as he tried to wake himself up. He felt surprisingly groggy, which was strange considering his visited dreams usually left him wide awake and alert.

"I didn't get to talk to her," Wilbur finally said, slowly dragging himself into a sitting position. "You got anything to eat? I'm starving."

"I thought you might be. I just got the fire up, though, so it'll be a bit before there'll be anything cooked. I haven't started, but if you want to go fancy on another dish, by all means go for it."

"Honestly, a plain cooked crabbit sounds perfect right now."

Tyler nodded, turning his attention back to the fire. When he spoke again, his voice was soft with disappointment. "So... you didn't get to talk to her?"

"No, but I did talk to someone affiliated with her."

Tyler perked up at that. "Really? What did they say?"

Wilbur felt the smallest of smiles appear on his face. He waited until Tyler looked back over at him to speak. "He told me to tell you... that the thought was sweet. But... to give them to someone else. Because he couldn't do anything with them."

Wilbur could sense the boy's piercing gaze flicking across his face as if waiting for the ape to continue. When he didn't, Tyler raised a hand to his mouth, eyes widening and glittering with a suspicious wetness.

"We both have to go to the Mainland. At least, that's what he insisted, and he said that it came from Charlie herself. But if you don't... if you don't want to, or feel able to go back, nobody can force you..."

"He... he still exists?" Tyler asked softly, totally ignoring Wilbur's words. "But... how? He doesn't have a soul. But..." He gasped. "But...! The Ancient Guardian... 'where he was finally gifted his humanity and soul'. He still exists... Webber wasn't lying. I can save him."

"...Tyler?"

"That decides it," Tyler said, louder. "If I take the Throne, I can make things right. For my sister, for my family, and for WX. I can... I can fix my mistakes."

"Tyler-"

"Wilbur, take me as soon as the sun rises." Tyler's face had grown very serious, very intense. "I'm ready to go back to the Mainland."