Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Prime, George, this isn’t okay! I just- oh Prime I sound like a dick… but I just… can’t bear to see them all… happy. Oh, that sounds horrible, ok let me just try and explain, what I mean is…” Dream trails off, slumping down onto his creaky mattress. “This… whole life we’ve been forced into, it’s too unjust that these CHILDREN! These little kids have to find happiness in an existence as bleak as this one. It’s a fucking prison, and we just never talk about it. This, here,” he gestures around the small obsidian cell, waving his hands wildly. “This horrible cell, this prison, we call it our ‘room’ so we don’t have to think about how we’re captives. We aren’t guilty of… well technically there’s villains amongst us… but the reason we’ve all been locked in here is due to something none of us could control! Everyday we go along, trying to find a ray of sunshine in this bleak world, ignoring the fact that we’re tortured and experimented on and that we haven’t seen the sun in Prime knows how long, and we aren’t treated like FUCKING HUMANS FOR PRIMES SAKE AND-“

“Dream,” George interrupts, cutting off his best friend. “You’re shouting. You might make the kids scared. I know that it’s hard to think about it, but everyone’s just trying to… adjust! They’re little kids, Dream, and they just-“

“NO!” Dream shouts, “THAT’S THE MAIN PROBLEM!” Tommy notices Dream yelling and runs over.

“Hey, is everything okay? Are we being too loud? I’m sorry,” Tommy tells him.

“No, Tommy, you’re all alright. George is just… letting me rant to him. Everything’s okay, don’t worry about me. Go back to playing with them all over there, alright?” Dream responds, using the sweet voice he has reserved for the smaller children with whom he shares the prison cell. Tommy nods, grinning, and scampers off to rejoin the game of tag.

“Hey,” George says, “I know it’s hard for you to keep your emotions pent up. It’s hard for all of us. But… it’s hoping for the best that’s keeping us from reverting to how it used to be. Back before the cell.” At the mention of the time before the group had been moved to the cell, Dream winces. “Oh- right- nononono let’s change the subject, what about-“

“No,” Dream cuts in, “it’s fine. I just need to be alone right now. I know that’s not really… possible… but I just don’t want to talk to anyone anymore. I’m sorry.”

Dream slumps over on his bed and curls into a ball. Hoping none of his cellmates, especially the young ones who look up to him, will walk over, he shuts his eyes and wills back his tears. He holds his arm out so that in case he can’t keep himself together, his prosthetic won’t get wet.

Dream, just like everyone else in the prison, had been graced with an amazing gift. They all had some of the most incredible powers to grace the country. And because of it, they were imprisoned.

It had been a normal day, like every one of the worst days in history, it began like any normal day. Dream got up in the morning and prepared for a day of saving lives. Kinda.

Dream was a vigilante. In a world in which the most incredible powers, which were just called OP powers, were very rare and coveted, anyone who possessed one could do anything. The few people with such OP powers were heroes, villains, politicians, even influencers, or rather, generally famous people. And there were vigilantes like Dream.

They weren’t the only people with powers. Every one of the average civilians had some form of power. There were three generalized power groups. The OP people were outliers from those groups.

The first group and second largest was levitation. These people can levitate two or three feet off the ground, and most can maintain that state for a while, and move in various directions while levitating.

The second category was the least common, and perhaps the best of the three. Depending on how you look at it. This group was a bit more of an umbrella group, encompassing anyone with a power related to animals. People with said animal affinities can, most commonly, talk to animals. The people with this are basically Disney princesses, and they understand what animals are saying. The more powerful people in this group can also speak back to the animals and the animals will understand, & they converse.

Another example of someone in this group is people who have special luck when in the presence of one specific animal, like, if there’s a cat in their office one day, they’d get promoted, it’s like an animal good luck charm. It’s nonsensical but it’s happens. A third common type is a person who is able to take on some abilities of a certain animal, but never very strong of such. Oftentimes there’s instances such as a person who takes less fall damage and they’ve got cat ears, or a person’s skin changes color like a chameleon.

The third group is by far the most common and most broad. These people are simply called enhanced. They’re better than the average human in some way. A higher IQ than average, or they’re quite strong and muscular. Some cases have shown people who never need sleep, or are strangely flexible. It’s extremely diverse, and sometimes people speculate that perhaps humans within this group are just a little bit better than normal, but naturally occurring, and they’re quite powerless. But there is no doubt this group does exist, because of how truly enhanced some people have become.

One man had an IQ of 253. This sort of enhancement was unheard of in history. He was deemed the smartest man alive. That kind of honor goes to a person’s head.

Maybe he had a good reason for his actions. Maybe he had some sort of mental health issues that caused it. Maybe he just wanted power, wanted to feel like a textbook villain who’d always get their way. There’s no known rhyme or reason for what he did.

He devoted his life to a few essential questions he held in his mind. The first: What would this world be like if it weren’t for the social hierarchy based upon powers? The people with OP powers, they rule over everything. Good and evil. And his second question tied directly to his first: What is so special about the OP powers themselves? What makes those who have such powers so special? How do these powers work, or occur?

And from these questions, the man developed an idea. The removal of such OP people from society would not only give him the society he desired, it would give him the people! The whole country would be his little experiment, and he could do as he pleased with those who had the OP powers.

There was a problem with that plan. How would he capture the OP’s? How would he keep them detained? They were simply… overpowered! He was physically average, if even that. He was only superior in his intellect, and Prime knows that intelligence alone can’t win a battle.

Would he give up? No. A dilemma such as this was meant to be solved by the only man who could. So ideas came flooding through his mind. None would work. His ideas would result in failure, his own death, or the death of any OP powered person, which was counterproductive.

During a fitful sleep, the idea came to him. The perfect plan with which he would succeed in all of his desires.

He spent years developing the machines and gadgets necessary. He spent those years rising in political influence, gaining everything he needed for the plan to be in motion.

Then the day came. It had started as a normal day, and like every one of the best days in history, it began like any normal day.

He had spent years documenting each of the OP people in each of the five counties of the country. He knew each and every one of them, and their locations that day. The plan was in motion.

He had spent years developing a weapon of sorts, one that would temporarily disable a power. It wasn’t entirely stable. It killed approximately 50% of people that it was used on. Some bodies weren’t able to handle the strong electric current that pulsed through them, disabling a huge part of their being. The people left alive experienced a myriad of effects. Some were more or less alright, despite the temporary disabling of their power. Others were physically weakened, or rendered unconscious.

But as long as enough people survived, the plan would work out.

The man had organized a safe house, he called it, but it was more of a holding cell crossed with a torture chamber. Here, he would hold his captives until the imprisonment was entirely government approved, and until the prison was fully ready.

That day, 15 OP people died in county IV.

Dream was out on patrol when he heard a scream. Unlike the majority of screams he heard, which were generally for help, this one was a scream of pure terror. Dream rushed to the sound, and found himself in a dark alleyway.

“Fuck,” he had cursed under his breath. “There’s no one here. Is it a trap? Oh-“ And then he was jabbed in the side. His skin wasn’t pierced, but it felt like lightning was running through his very being.

He saw hundred of colorful sparks dance around in his vision. He slumped to the ground, and could hardly move as he was picked up and thrown into the back of a van.

He drifted into sleep. And over the course of his relocation to the ‘safe house’, he phased in and out of consciousness.

In. He felt the van go over a bump in the road. The harsh movement made his head pound.

Out. He was asleep again.

In. He felt cold metal chains fastened to his limbs.

Out. Fighting sleep, trying not to shut his eyes…

In. Hard floors. A thin sheet of water covering the ground. Soft sobbing from the corner of the room. The sobs of a child. Dream wanted to help them, he tried to move and-

Out. He can’t move. Trying to move his limbs is too much exertion and he drifts off to sleep again.

In. Pain. Unbearable pain. The lightning is back, coursing through him. It seems someone has placed their electric weapon thing’s tip onto the water covered floor and activated it. The current has traveled through the water and shocked us all. Us all? Who are the others in this room? Where am I?

Out. Thinking hurts too much.

This went on for an eternity, it seemed, but finally, Dream built enough of an immunity of sorts to the electric currents, and was able to stay awake and take in his surroundings.

There were 11, no, 12 other people in the room with him. It was too dark and his vision was too blurry to make out the details of their faces, but Dream could see their silhouettes.

What he saw shook him to the bone. The vast majority of people in the room were so very small. Too small to have been adults. Dream was sharing this prison with children. And the realization that all the pain he had been through, these little kids had felt it too? That discovery hurt Dream the most.

Time is nothing anymore. There are moments of pain, and moments of less pain. Dream does not know how much time goes by on the floor of that damp room. Occasionally, he wakes up to a bit of stale bread on the floor in front of him, and a glass of water. He greedily takes it all in, not knowing if he will ever get it again. He is barely alive. The same goes for every other captive in the room.

Miles away, the man responsible for it all speaks to the council in charge of the whole country. He tells them that the OP people are a poison upon society. They must be locked away, he says, and the citizens must be kept safe.

The project is approved, and even given loads of funding. Nearly a month goes by, and finally the prison is complete, as are the plans for how to keep the remaining OP’s alive’s powers under wraps. Guards are sent to transition the captives into the prison.

The prisoners are all rendered unconscious yet again, and brought to the newly constructed cell. It’s very different from the dark, waterlogged room they had resided in before.

The whole cell is made of obsidian, and it’s bigger than the other room, which doesn’t say much. There’s one large room, which has the bars that slide open and shut and are the only way to enter or leave the cell. But there are also four attached rooms, three of which have the same mechanical bars and one of which has an actual door.

The one with an actual door is a bathroom, and the other three are intended as bedrooms.

The limp bodies of the unconscious and malnourished captives are tossed into the cell and locked in. None of them wake up for a day and a half.

As the first of them begin to stir, guards begin to flood into the cell to restrain each of the captives. One by one they are all taken away from the cell. One by one their powers will be disabled in the most effective way possible.

The man and a few advisors look over some paperwork. The fate of all living OP’s in county IV rests in their hands.

“Number one. Badboyhalo. He worked with the police, as a hero and detective,” an advisor reads off a file. “Whenever he speaks to someone, they are only able to tell the truth. they physically cannot say anything else,” he says, and then looks up at the others in the room. “It seems he can compel people to never lie. It doesn’t seem to be voluntary. Oh, and also, it says he can become, or like, control his shadow. During this process, his material form, his body, collapses to the ground and he is able to use his shadow as a body, having nearly all the properties of a ghost. This shadow form is relatively transparent, and when he is in it he can walk through walls. But, if he pleases, he is able to interact with the material world as well.”

“Prime, that’s just…”

“Okay but, here’s the thing, he’s got a fucking HUGE weakness, luckily for us. It’s like he exists purely to be defeated with ease. Obsidian! Whenever someone’s in contact with it, they’re able to lie, and furthermore, when he’s in contact with it, he can’t access his shadow form! It’s bloody brilliant!”

“Well, the prison’s obsidian, or the cell anyways, so are we all set with this case?”

Murmurs of yes chorus around the room when the man realizes something.

“What if he jumps?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“He can do his shadow thing when he’s not touching obsidian. What if he jumps? Like, he’s in the air. Not touching the obsidian floor. No, to disable the power, we have to…”

“Why do we have to disable the power? Shouldn’t we come up with handicaps that can be toggled on and off, so we can still test on the prisoners?”

“No,” the man responds, his voice stern. “Well, yes, but… If their power would aid them in escape in any major way, we need to remove it as entirely as we can. For any power that does not aid in escape we can do your ‘toggling’.”

“Alright, sir, do you have any ideas for how to make it so he always is in contact with obsidian? Oh, we could give him, like, an obsidian ring! Or-“

“Your inferior IQ is showing. Cease to speak. If we give him a ring he’ll take it off. There’s only one way to make it so he’s always in contact with obsidian. Surgically implant it.”

“Prime, that’s a bit severe, and how would we go about that? It’s just-“

“You forget that I’ve studied neurosurgery for years. If I can entirely alter the human brain without killing the person, I can safely put a fucking rock into someone’s spine or something. But yes, perfect, I would do his spine because then he can’t cut the rock back out.”

“But-“

“Okay, it’s been decided,” the man interjects. “Onto the next file. Once I’ve prepared the plans for each of the prisoners, I will perform all necessary surgeries.”

The group flipped through files so casually, and discussed each of the prisoners with such haste and in such an official tone that it seemed like a focus group. Less like a circle of government officials discussing the life changing surgeries and alterations of a group of generally innocent people.

“Number two, Georgenotfound, it says his power is control over stamina,” reads another advisor. “Does that mean he’s really strong?”

“No,” responds another advisor. “My daughter is a huge fan of his, she wears his merch like every day, she practically lives in it. I can tell you, George can control people’s energy levels. He can make people, including and especially himself, really hyper or fast, or he can make people become lethargic and slow, and he can put people to sleep with a single glance.

“He uses the powers for hero work, but really he’s more of a famous internet personality, I can’t tell you what platform, because I have no idea. All I know is that he’s very popular amongst fans, of which he’s got tens of thousands in this county alone.”

“Alright,” responds the advisor with the file, “so it says here that he needs to look someone in the eyes to be able to manipulate their stamina? So do we think obstructing eye contact would deflect the power?”

“What about glasses? If we give all our guards glasses, George can’t do a thing to them! Like with Bad, if we give George the glasses, he’d just take them off. But if part of the guard uniform is glasses, his power is useless! And he’s still able to use it, just not on any of us.”

“It’s settled then. That’s an easy case. Read off the file for number three, why don’t you?”

“Okay, number three, Purpled,” reads the advisor. He scans the paper and then glances up with a look of mild horror. “He’s 12? Prime, that’s little! I thought we only had adults?”

The advisor begins to flip through the files, finding the ages of a few of the prisoners. “Jeez, fifteen, thirteen, sixteen, twelve, oh Prime this ones TEN YEARS OLD!”

The man cocks his head to the side. “We haven’t got any ten year olds on file? Not on the list to capture anyway… But nevermind that, these people are all OP whether they’re little kids or not. The electric disabler seemed to only be fatal to adults anyway, which shows in the data where we have mostly minors. But if you’re too squeamish for this, you can leave. Just know that with the information you’ve been given, we might have to kill you.”

The advisor shrinks in his seat and begins to read again. “Purpled, a twelve year old boy, has telekinesis. To an extreme extent. He’s able to move anything with his mind, break anything, what ever he can fathom, he can do. It’s arguably the most OP power, like, ever, and-“

“Does he need to be able to see something to move it?”

“Y-yes?”

“Blind him. Next file!”

“Wh-but-uh…” sputters the advisor. “I guess it’s really that simple, huh.”

“How do we even blind someone?”

“I’ll figure it out. A high enough blast of bright light would probably burn his retinas enough to blind him. Read off the file for number four, I don’t have all day, we need this to be done before the prisoners wake up fully.”

“Four is Wilbur Soot? Another kid, he’s 15, and his power is controlling people with his voice. What this entails is that he can speak a command, and whomever he spoke it to is forced to follow what he’s said. He’s been training to be a hero as well.”

“Oh, I’ve had an idea for this one for a while. His voice is his power,” says the man, “so if we just surgically alter the Broca's area in his brain to make him permanently mute, and-“

“Sir, so sorry to interrupt, I know you like neurosurgery, but wouldn’t it just be easier to like, alter his vocal cords? I’m not sure how it works, maybe remove the vocal cords or something, just make it so he can’t talk? You don’t have to remove his ability to articulate words, just make it so he can’t talk, you know?”

The man scowls but knows his advisor is correct. “Fine. I’ll look into altering his vocal cords to remove his capabilities for speech. Next problem?”

“Alright. Number five is Technoblade Soot, he’s 15 as well, perhaps the two are brothers? Twins?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Prime, be that way. So it says Technoblade’s powers are that he has enhanced combative skills, and every time he takes someone’s life and ingests their blood, he gains their remaining lifespan had they not been killed. So he’s technically immortal? Or can be anyway. And weapons are somehow as light as a feather in his hands. This causes him to fight even better. He’s been training to be a hero as well.”

“Alright, well, his is another case that I’ve been working on, and for it, I’ve developed a fun little gadget,” the man states. “It’s a little electric paralyzing device, you implant it into a person and with a little remote control, you can send little electric shocks through a person that will shock their muscles and temporarily paralyze them. This is necessary because whenever we need to take him out of the cell, he would be able to fight back and win easily. So we just shock and paralyze him whenever we need him. Sound good?”

The advisors, all clearly in shock of the true depth of what they’re deciding at this table, numbly nod their heads. The advisor with the files begins to read again.

“Number six is a 12 year old boy training to be a villain named Sapnap. This file doesn’t have very much on him, but of course we’ve got the information on his power. He can create and control fire. That sums it up well, doesn’t it?”

“Any sort of weakness we can play off of?” asks another advisor, clearly hoping to come up with just one idea themselves.

“Apparently he needs to be warm to create fire. Not like, hot, but just at a normal body temperature, even room temperature, and he’s alright to commit all the arson he desires.”

“I’ve been working on this case for a while,” the man replies, “and I know what needs to be done.”

“Oh my goodness, if you’ve got a plan for everything, why are we even here?”

“As advisors. Not all of my plans are perfect. And there’s a few people I haven’t reviewed as much. You’re here for a reason. Now, this plan is a simple one. Finally, a plan that requires brain surgery.”

The advisors’ eyes widen. The man pays no mind, and continues to speak. “In the brain, theres an area called the hypothalamus, which generally makes sure your body stays warm. It regulates temperature, and homeostasis. If we just tweak his, we can make it so his body doesn’t produce enough heat to make fire. Sure he’ll be chilly all the time, but that’s not our problem. And the best part is, if we put him in a very warm room, he’ll still be able to produce a flame! I hope. No- if I do this right, it should go just as I’ve said.”

“Sure. You do that. Moving on to number seven, we have a vigilante who goes by Dream. His power is that he can basically transfer his consciousness into anyone’s body, slumping his own to the floor and pushing his victim to the back of their head until he is ready to leave. He’s in full control of their body, but in this time his own body is entirely vulnerable. When he is using someone’s body, he can use their power too. The thing is, Dream has to be touching someone with both hands on their body to be able to possess them.”

“I have a… tentative plan for this case. I’m not sure if it would work, and it might disable his power forever, but it’s my only idea. We amputate one of his arms. This way he can’t touch someone with both hands. But, to keep him as fully functioning as possible, and hopefully still giving him the possibility of accessing the power when it pleases us, we get a prosthetic arm for him. We make sure to run a strand of his DNA through it so that hopefully his power will pick up on it and he will be able to use the arm as if it is his own. We get a top of the line prosthetic, one that moves as if it’s truly his limb, one that he can move with his mind, you know the type. But here’s the deal - we get a little remote power switch for it. Whenever we need to grab him, we just switch off his arm and he’s helpless! So, do you all like the plan?”

“If it works, it’s brilliant. I do hope it does.”

“I’ll have someone look into getting a prosthetic, as well as a charger for the electric battery.”

“Moving on to number eight, wow, are we productive today! We have Niki Nihachu. She’s sixteen years old, and if you’ll recall, we rescued her from a villain syndicate. She aspired to be a hero at a young age, but around age fourteen she was kidnapped and held as a captive by this villain group. We don’t have on file why they held her there, but we can make general assumptions, based off her power. That doesn’t matter though, what does is that when she makes direct eye contact with someone, she can change their mood to anything she pleases. She cannot change thoughts or opinions, but she can do things such as make a crying child happy, or calm down someone if they are mad. The person will know why they were mad, or know why they were crying, but won’t be able to feel that specific emotion or anything besides what Niki made them feel for a few minutes. The power just seems… cruel. In any case, similarly to George, if anything blocks eye contact, she cannot change a person’s mood.”

“Everyone in working in or visiting the prison wears glasses. We’re already set. Next!”

“Number 9… we don’t actually know. If you’ll recall, we had a member on staff who could read minds, and when she looked at a person she would know everything about them, and so we had her help capture the OP’s, and then we were gonna betray her and capture her like the other OP’s but she committed suicide? Anyways, she was on assignment to capture number seven, Dream, when she heard a thump in an alleyway. She ran over there and saw a little boy on his back on the ground, dizzy and disoriented, and he had these little green swirly particles all around him? She used her power and immediately knew his name, which was Karl Jacobs, and he was 10 years old. She saw that his power was time traveling, and immediately decided that the power was OP and so she jabbed him with the little electric power disabler thing before he could fully come to. She also saw that he has to say exactly when and where he wants to travel in order to go there. She also saw so many logistics about the mechanics of his power, but she never said what they were before she… killed herself. We’ve got enough information though, to be able to know what to do about him.”

“Yep. Mute him, same as Wilbur. Next one.”

“I feel like we should have a bit more human emotion while discus-“

“Number ten is Tommyinnit, age thirteen. He’s an aspiring vigilante, and while he has brought smaller criminals in to the police, he normally makes a mess of crime scenes. His power is technically something you could put into the enhancement category? Perhaps? It’s super speed, he’s just really fast. That’s really the entirety of the power.”

“Another easy one, we-“

“Actually? How is that easy? Are you gonna cut off his legs or something? Or, perhaps an area in his brain gives him the ability to move fast? We alter it or some shit?”

“No. Hold your tongue, I’m sure you’re stressed, but if you’ll just listen, I have a way for each and every one of you to let out any stress and anger any time you please. I’ll get to that when we’re done discussing all the OP’s who didn’t die in this county. I’ve already settled counties I, II, III and V. This is the last one. So for Tommy, we just use the same paralysis thing as for Technoblade. It’s not that complicated.”

“Sure. Number eleven, then, is Tubbo. Another 13 year old boy. He can duplicate inanimate objects. In order to be able to create duplicates of an object, he has to be touching it with both hands. He also has to be able to see the entirety of the object before duplicating it. He cannot duplicate anything containing living material. Tubbo showed signs of his power at a young age, younger than most people do, and he was promptly kidnapped by some drug cartel. We only picked up on him when it was found out that the cartel had never bought weapons or anything to like, make drugs. So we sent someone in to investigate and found out that the cartel had a small boy making weapons and drugs and stuff for them. He obviously wasn’t doing it by choice. So, the government was gonna have some committee rescue him or something, and then as you know, you heard about the boy and added him to the list of OP’s to capture. So a group was sent out to get Tubbo, and so… yeah!”

“Well… yes, I’m a tad stumped on this one. He’s an enigma, I have to say. We don’t have much on him, seeing as he was a prisoner, and he was kept secret. I was thinking something similar to number seven, Dream, but that wouldn’t work out. We can’t keep him turned off constantly, and if he gets his hands on one object it could be over for us. So I thought about the parameters of the power and came to a conclusion. He needs to be able to see a whole object to duplicate it. So, he can’t duplicate the prison or anything. Truth be told, he can only duplicate whatever objects we give to the prisoners. Unless! Here’s the thing - unless they contain genetic material. Anything at all that we don’t want duplicated, we just put some, I don’t know, DNA in it, a hair strand woven into their clothes or anything we don’t want him to be able to duplicate! And food, food already is organic material! Plant based or not! So it’s pretty simple to make his power useless.”

“And since they’re kids, do we give them, like, toys? I don’t know, what do kids like?”

“I mean, I guess we could. Just be sure to lace whatever you send into that cell with genetic material. I don’t really care all that much about how entertained the prisoners are.”

“Alright. Two files left! Next we have number twelve, Ranboo. He takes after endermen, it seems. He can teleport! Golly, that’s cool! But, here it says, he can only teleport when he takes damage. So, he- he only teleports when he’s hurt.”

“So… neurosurgery?” the man asks, smiling, and receives exasperated glares from around the room. “Okay, but the cerebral cortex, the part of the brain that recieves pain signals and causes you to feel pain, if I alter his to an extremity where he physically cannot feel pain, he can’t teleport, correct? So, that’s all set there. Read the last file so I can start the surgeries, I haven’t got all day.”

“O-kay, number thirteen is the infamous villain Philza Minecraft. He has large wings, crow-esqe, on his back and also extremely efficient self-healing abilities. It is also rumored that he’s immortal. That’s not true, I assume…? He’s one of the most well known villains in the county, but is also famous for never killing civilians. He picks specific targets, and kills them, or does whatever crime he pleases, but he doesn’t tend to have casualties. I guess you’d call him morally grey?”

“That’s not the right term, Philza Minecraft is not the love interest in a YA novel. Regardless, does anyone have an idea for how to… toggle him off, as you’ve all put it?”

“You mean, sir, you haven’t got a plan?”

“No.” he responds, simply. “I mean, I guess we don’t need to do anything. His wingspan is too great for him to open inside. He’d risk hurting the other people in the cell, and as we know he doesn’t like to hurt innocents. Or I guess, we could just clip his wings. You know, when you make the bird’s wings not work, or something? Birds aren’t my jurisdiction. One of you send out for a person who works with birds for a living, get them to clip his wings and immobilize them, for the most part. Okay! Meeting adjourned!” he grinned, and promptly left the room.

That night, he saw to it that all the plans were followed through. The OP powers had been neutralized, disabled, removed.

Some of the prisoners were tossed back into the cell hours after being taken out. Days passed, and as the prisoners who required surgery recovered from the ordeal, they too were thrown into the obsidian room. After a week, Karl and Wilbur were the last to recover and be returned to the cell.

What may have been days, or weeks, flew by without any of the captives speaking to each other. They all lived in their own private, dark and empty worlds.

Knowing they were prisoners, knowing they had undergone immense pain, but not knowing why, it broke them. They all sat silent against the walls. They were too preoccupied by fear and pain to take much interest in their surroundings. They were silent and terrified.

The dull pains never went away, but only grew better and worse, waves of pain ebbing and flowing. When it grew worse, the only things on the captives’ minds were the pain they were in.

Dream was hungry. He knew they all were. He had no idea how long it had been since they had eaten.

More time went by, not categorized by day and night, but rather by moments of less pain and moments of more pain.

After Prime knows how long, a guard approached the bars that separated the prisoners and those who were fortunate enough to be average.

“Prisoners,” he commanded in a loud, intimidating voice. “This will be the daily protocol if you want food and water. I ask that you proceed into the separate rooms that have the mechanical bars. When and only when each and every one of you are behind the locked bars, we will have guards sent in with food and water to be kept in the main room. Once the guards are out and the main cell is locked again, you will be allowed out from your bedrooms to eat. If any one of you resist, or refuse to go behind the bars, you will not be fed. I will try again tomorrow.”

Dream looked around the room. There were three bedrooms with mechanical bars that would close and lock, just as the guard had said. Dream glanced around the area more, wondering if his fellow inmates with whom he had never spoke would retreat behind the bars.

On one hand, they would be fed. Finally able to move without being in immense pain. But on the other, they were admitting defeat. They were accepting the prison as their home, and this protocol as one they had to follow. They were submitting.

A shaky voice spoke up from the corner of the room. It was a deep, gravelly voice, only shaky from some time of not being used. Dream turned to the owner of the voice, which was a teen with pink hair and fiery red eyes. On his lap rested the head of another teen, who was fast asleep, and he had nearly the same face of the former, but just… softer, expression wise, and this boy’s hair was brown. And his face with wet with tears, whereas the boy with pink hair’s face was angry and defiant.

“Tell us why we’re in here,” he choked out, in a raspy voice, and then he started to cough. The noise woke up the teen on his lap, who jolted up, scared, took in his surroundings, and began to pat the back of the longer haired teen. The coughing subsided and the guard began to speak.

“Oh,” the guard began, his voice sweet, almost condescending in a way that made Dream feel sick, “you don’t know why you’re in here? Well, that’s cruel, isn’t it? Sure, I suppose you’re allowed to know. Someone… I can’t disclose his name to such people as yourselves, he took the initiative to remove all the OP’s from society. They, well… you, are a plague upon society and need to be locked away, for the safety of civilians, and so that common people can have a chance at heroics and fame. So you’ll stay here now, and we’ve disabled your powers to the best of our abilities. Please understand that this is nothing against you as people… well, I guess it is…” he trailed off, not knowing what else to add.

Dream looked around the room upon the faces of the others in the room. Expressions of horror and anger and fear spread across all of their faces. But no matter how scared or sad each of the inmates were, they all had one thing in common.

A look of defiance in their eyes. None of them would submit. An unspoken covenant between the captives to never give in. Not one of them retreated into the bedrooms. They sat in silent defiance and hoped that their protest would do something, mean something.

It didn’t do anything good.

More time went by.

Dream lost all sense of time. They all did.

Every once in a while, the same guard would ask them to please go into the bedrooms, please let him help them, and feed them, but the captives never gave in. If the guard really cared to help them, (which his tone gave the sense that he did), they wouldn’t be in the cell in the first place.

Defiance can’t keep you healthy.

Defiance can’t keep you from dying.

The time comes when you cannot keep going on defiance alone.

When one of the smallest boys collapsed from hunger, his breath shaky and erratic, and he seemed to be in immense pain, the inmates decided they wouldn’t let children die for a protest. Everyone has a line they won’t cross.

As the boy (who, Dream found out later, was named Tubbo) collapsed, everyone tried to run to his side. They found that they couldn’t make it far. The next few minutes were a blur.

Everyone was in pain, so much pain.

“If you could all just please make your way behind the bars, please get into the bedrooms-“

The guard didn’t need to say more. The smallest amongst them were too weak to move, and so those who were able rushed everyone into the largest of the three rooms. The door shut mechanically and the guard quickly rushed food into the room. He ushered the guards back out of the cell and quickly activated the mechanism to close the cell again. Then he opened the bedroom doors, allowing the prisoners to attain their sustenance.

The captives greedily ate until they were full, which didn’t take very long. Their stomachs had grown so used to an absence of nourishment that they could barely eat. Tubbo came to, and they made sure he was fed as well.

“So, who are you all?” asked a small blonde boy with the number ten sewn onto his orange prison outfit.

And the introductions began.

The group tentatively began to talk about who they were, and their powers. At first, there was hostility between the heroes and villains. That quickly dissolved when they realized that the whole heroes and villains deal was just labels for people who were for or against the government and its policies. They were all good people at heart.

The group decided they couldn’t go on the way it had been before, everyone broken against the wall. They discovered that the three bedrooms had six, four, and one bed respectively.

It was decided that the six youngest would take the room with the six beds (consisting of two three tier bunk beds), the four adults would take the room with the four separate beds, and the three older teens would share the room with the one large bed.

The group came to find that they would have a few problems they would have to work through. The biggest being that Wilbur and Karl were unable to speak.

When the group were all introducing themselves, George turned to Karl and spoke to him.

“So, what’s your name?” George asked in a sweet voice, hoping not to make the small boy nervous. Karl, who hadn’t tried to speak since he was thrown back into the cell, opened his mouth to respond.

No sound came out. He tried again and again to force sound out of his mouth, even just a raspy whisper, but none came. His silent struggles morphed into a quiet, helpless sobbing.

George, who had not intended for his gesture to bring a child to tears, rushed over to the sobbing boy.

“Hey,” he coaxed, “hey, it’s okay! You’re alright. Here, look me in the eyes, yeah, there we go. Okay? You’re okay. Okay okay okay… so, can you speak?” George asked, and Karl sadly shook his head. “Oh man, can… can you normally speak?”

Karl nodded frantically. He started to make various hand movements, accompanied by mouthing words, but George had no idea what he was trying to communicate. As the boy buried his face in his hands in attempt to hide himself from the adult before him, George tried to help him communicate.

“Alright, okay, let’s start off simple. How old are you?” he asked, and then he watched as the quivering child in front of him held up both of his hands, ten fingers stretched out. “You’re ten, oh Prime, okay,” he breathed, visibly stressed.

“So,” Phil interjects, “how in the world are we meant to communicate with a child who can’t speak? For some reason, they’ve taken his voice? It’s got to be because of his power, as we’ve noticed, everyone has some form of handicap preventing them from accessing their powers. His power must be voice activated, or he uses his voice for the power.”

“Wilbur’s power is too…” Technoblade added, and then the realization dawned on him. “WIL,” he gasped, “ARE YOU ABLE TO SPEAK? HAVE YOU TRIED? OH PRIME WIL, CAN YOU…” Technoblade trailed off as he saw his brother hiding his face in his hands.

“Wil…” he said softly, and he gently moved Wilbur’s hand to reveal his brother’s face streaked with tears, as Wilbur gasped for breath, nearly hyperventilating. Wilbur cried harder, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to form words, and no sound escaped his mouth.

Wilbur had always loved to sing, and his voice was beautiful. It rivaled that of angels, people said, it was a gift from above. The people who had put them in the prison had taken more than Wilbur’s power. They had taken his passion.

“Hey,” a soft voice spoke up from across the room. “Um, I haven’t introduced myself yet, I’m Niki, and I- uh- I have something that could help with… all this. I know sign language…” she added, sheepishly.

“YO, ACTUALLY?” shouted Tommy, the hyperactive blonde boy who was clearly already going to be a nuisance. Or free entertainment. “THAT’S COOL! WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT?”

Niki’s gaze fell to her feet and she said, “Uh… my mom was… is! Is deaf, so I… learned it?”

No one believed her, but if she didn’t want to say why she had needed to learn sign language, no one needed to know.

“It’s fine,” Phil responded, “you don’t need to tell us. As long as we have a means of communication, you’re great! It’s… great.”

And so Niki would spend hours each day teaching everyone sign language. Everyone except for Purpled. Another problem that came up was that Purpled was now blind. This would be less of a problem if it weren’t for the fact that two of the thirteen people in their group were doomed to communicate entirely visually.

Purpled originally planned to try and avoid Karl and Wilbur as much as he could. That wasn’t possible in such a small cell. He spent the majority of his waking hours with Karl especially, and he was always right below Karl as he slept. This was due to the fact that the six who shared a room never left each other’s sides, always playing together. To make it easier for Karl and Purpled to fully be a part of the conversations, one of the other four would verbally translate for Karl as time went on and everyone became fluent in sign language.

The march of time continued on, and everyone grew close to each other. The world isn’t all strawberries and rainbows, though. For one thing, no one openly talked about their pasts or trauma. Mention of their existence in the prison or why they were in there was avoided.

There was also the regular experimentation and torture. The doctors, if you could call them that, ran regular tests on the prisoners. The tests were a myriad of things, some as simple and painless as blood tests, and others were excruciatingly painful tests to see the limits their powers could go.

Dream was tired of it. Not being able to talk about their state of being for fear of bringing children to tears. Having to sleep behind bars, and retreat behind those bars whenever they wanted to be fed.

Sure, maybe Dream shouldn’t be complaining, it could be worse, but- NO! HE SHOULD BE COMPLAINING! They were tortured and treated like they weren’t even human. Had they seen the sun in… in eternity? No! The food was mediocre, and there was never enough. The dull aches in their stomachs never left.

Nothing about this was okay.

But, it couldn’t be helped.

It was just how things were.

Chapter Text

Niki , Karl signed, me and Wilbur figured out something else you need to teach us.

Right , Wilbur added, something very important for everyday communication.

The pair began to grin mischievously and Niki felt a faint sense of dread creeping through her. Why do I have a feeling that this isn’t going to be something good? she asked.

You need to teach us the bad words. S-W-E-A-R-S , Karl spelled out, because he didn’t know the word for swear, or if there even is one.

No , Niki replied simply.

Niki, why? That’s not very nice of you, Wilbur pleaded. We need to be able to S-W-E-A-R!

No, you don’t need to be able to… “swear,” she added aloud. “And I’m not going to teach you how to swear, okay? Karl, you’re TEN! You don’t need to be able to swear.”

Nooooooo, Karl signed by repeating the sign for no over and over, that’s not fair, though! Tommy and Tubbo and Sapnap and Purpled and Phil and Dream and George and-

Niki cuts Karl off by gently placing her hand on top of his. “I know that they can swear, but Bad asked me not to teach you guys any swear words! He wouldn’t let me leave until I promised to not tell you guys any bad words. He would be like ‘Niki are you going to teach them the swears?’ in his shrill little voice and I would say ‘yes’ because you can’t lie around him! And if he finds out I did tell you in the end, he’ll be so mad.”

Niki pat Karl on the head, and as her hand moved upwards, his fluffy and curly brown hair sprung back into place. Niki turned to leave and went over to report her success to Bad.

Karl, there’s no way we’re letting her stop us that easily. We won’t be silenced! Ok, let’s come up with some ideas on how we can S-W-E-A-R, Wilbur signed.

Karl hesitated for a moment and then began to respond. We can just use other words in place of the bad words! And just let everyone know what they stand in for! For example, we can say… ‘what the honk, Tommy?’ whenever Tommy does the thing where he hits you on the back of your neck and then sprints super fast to the other end of the room so you won’t suspect him! What was I saying? Oh yeah, we can say ‘honk’ instead of S-W-E-A-R-N-G!

It’s spelt S-W-E-A-R-I-N-G , corrected Wilbur in a jokingly smug way, with an ‘I’, but yeah, that’s a nice idea! Or, what if, what if, we can come up with signs of our own for each of the words we don’t know! Like how we had to come up with a sign for everyone’s names! Like for F-U-C-K, we could go like…

Wilbur grinned and held up his middle finger proudly. As soon as he did, he heard Bad call out from the adults’ room, “Wilbur! Language!”

Karl keeled over, laughing silently, with tears budding in his eyes. Watching Karl trying to laugh was normally contagious, but suddenly, Wilbur just felt… sad.

Knowing that Karl’s giggling should be audible if the circumstances were normal, and knowing that Wilbur’s own laugh was about the same, put a damper on Wilbur’s previously jovial mood. His face fell into a frown before he could stop it.

Sometimes, seeing Karl just reminded him how he couldn’t make noise if he tried. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock of finding out he couldn’t speak.

Everyone tried to make the cell a happy place, an oasis in the sea of hurt that crashed over them whenever they were taken from the cell for experiments, but sometimes, Karl’s existence was a cruel reminder of how sad Wilbur was, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

He felt his breath quickening and he shut his eyes so tears couldn’t escape them. Then he felt the small hand of a child on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes and rested them upon Karl.

Hey, Wilbur, is everything okay? Karl asked, and Wilbur just nodded. He swallowed, pushing his feelings down, and forced himself to smile again.

Yep! Sorry Karl, I was just lost in thought. So, where were we?

Before the pair could continue brainstorming ideas for how to use profanities, the same guard who always makes them go into their rooms approached the room and began to speak.

“Prisoners, proceed behind the bars of the bedrooms immediately, with the exception of number Four, who must remain in the main cell so he can be taken for an experiment. If any prisoners refuse to go to behind the bars, they will be punished. If number Four resists being taken, he will be punished. I hope I’ve made myself clear,” the guard commanded.

Oh, Karl, that’s me! Wilbur signed. I’ll try and be back quick, he added, despite having no control over that.

Techno’s not even back yet! They normally do this in shifts, taking one person out while putting the previous back in, right? Where’s Techno, Wilbur? Karl asked.

A mildly confused look spread across Wilbur’s face. Karl! How the honk am I supposed to know where Techno is? A huge grin came to be plastered onto Karl’s face upon Wilbur using his word. This time, Karl’s joy successfully spread to Wilbur, defeating all the dread that came with having to go for an experiment.

We’ll resume this when I get back, okay? See you soon! Wilbur promised, knowing even a statement such as ‘he’ll come back’ could turn out to be a lie.

Karl stood up and ran over to his room, jumping with a giddy, mischievous grin onto Sapnap’s bed and waking up the sleeping tween. As the bars started to close on the bedroom doors, Wilbur heard Sapnap’s shriek of “Hey! Karl, you woke me up! Gogy just let me fall asleep!”

Then they were locked into the bedroom, and a few guards went into the main cell to grab Wilbur. Wilbur tried to keep his body as limp as he could, remembering a time when he had tried to stand up on his own and he had been shoved to the floor by a guard, who had proceeded to step on his face with the metal spiked sole of this boot and scream at Wilbur to behave. Yeah. Not a fun time.

So, Wilbur was marched down the long corridors, with his hands restrained behind his back by one guard, and his head forcibly angled to face the floor by another.

He was lead into a room that had white tile floors, which was the normal flooring in most of the rooms Wilbur had been tested in, so he assumed he had reached his destination.

Unlike most of the prisoners, Wilbur wasn’t able to ever use his power anymore, so he was tested on in a different way. Sometimes, the doctors would have him try various ways to access his power, like attempting to control someone with his mind, or by whistling or something dumb, but none of them had worked yet.

Wilbur had originally tried to just not attempt use of his power during an experiment, so that the doctors wouldn’t find out and disable that too, but they would always know he wasn’t trying.

And the punishments for not trying hurt.

The most common punishment he received was what he had heard the doctors calling a ‘hot iron session’. Even just a thought of the heated metal rod on his skin made Wilbur have to force back his tears.

He had burns up and down his back, scars he knew would never heal. At least they were cauterized, due to the heat. It could be worse.

Maybe Wilbur was lucky, and the other captives suffered through far worse punishments. Maybe their experiments were far more physically painful.

Thoughts like these prevented Wilbur from ever telling any one of his fellow prisoners about what happened during his experiments.

They all probably had it worse.

They had all felt pain too, they wouldn’t care about Wilbur.

Just sit down and shut up and nothing goes wrong.

People will just feel sad if Wilbur talks about it. If he makes them sad, it’s all his fault.

If he’s obedient, no one gets hurt.

“Are you ready, Four?” asked a doctor in a sickly sweet voice that made Wilbur immediately jump to the conclusion that today was going to be painful.

“I’ve got good news for you! A special treat. You’ve been given clearance to be told what we’re going to be doing today! I’m gonna hook you up to this fun little machine, and we’re gonna be watching your brother’s reactions to what we do to you, okay?”

Techno? Wilbur signed, before realizing how stupid, stupid, STUPID he was for trying to talk with a doctor, and the odds that she would even understand him were slim to none.

The doctor lifted her hand and Wilbur flinched, terrified to be hurt. Prime, he was cowardly today.

She turned the raised hand into a pointed finger and wiggled it in his face. “Now, now, behave. You’ve probably noticed that Five isn’t here. Well, that’s exactly the point! We want to see if the connection between the two of you is as strong as we’ve hypothesized. And you knowing that the pain won’t cease until Five responds will hopefully increase your desperation and give us results. So, are you ready to begin?”

Wilbur didn’t respond. How could he?

“And remember,” the doctor added with a twisted smile, “if it hurts too much at any point, just say the word and we’ll stop, okay?” She locked eyes with him, almost daring him to resist, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to verbally ask for help if he needed it. Wilbur averted his gaze to his feet and tried to keep his shaking hands still.

Wilbur numbly allowed the guards to strap him into the strange contraption, trying to avoid eye contact. He didn’t feel any needles or anything breaking his skin, so he assumed that whatever pain he was about to go through wouldn’t be the stabbing kind.

It never was. If he were to bleed out, they’d have one less person for data! And any good scientist knows you need a larger test group for good data. This was probably the only reason Wilbur is alive. Maybe he should act more gratefully towards the doctors…?

“Right before we get started, I just want to let you know that until number Five responds acceptably, the pain will continue. It will keep going until your brother does what we’ve asked of him,” the doctor states, and then she begins to set the contraption up.

She tightens the straps and cuffs, and then she attaches wires all over his body. None of them stick into his skin, but the surface of his body is covered in the wires.

Oh Prime, they’re going to use electric shocks on him, aren’t they?

“Okay, let’s begin.”

The doctor pulled a lever and then Wilbur felt his whole body stop.

He was surrounded by white light. Wilbur couldn’t find the words to describe the pain that surged through his body. He had been shocked before, when he had first been taken captive, and his powers were temporarily disabled. Now, however, the current was exponentially stronger as it surged throughout his body.

His ears were ringing. It felt as if he had been struck by lighting. And the pain.

Prime, the pain.

It was nearly unbearable.

If it were possible for him to do so, Wilbur would have still been too strained to cry out in pain. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut so hard it hurt.

It felt like he was being stung by 10,000 wasps from the inside out. Even his punishments for not being complacent were never this painful.

He was dying. He must be. No one could feel this much pain and live. Wilbur must already be dead! This must be hell, his own personal hell, that explains why it hurts so much.

He was so tense, and it was like needles were stuck in every inch of his being. In his head he screamed, pleaded, begged for help, but wasn’t met with an answer. Could Techno really save him? If he could, why wasn’t he?

Then, through the deafening ringing in his ears, Wilbur faintly heard the doctor speaking to him.

“Four, Four, if you’re able to hear me, concentrate entirely on the color red. Think about the color red. If you don’t, we will certainly have to turn the machine up.”

Red. That would be easy. The inside of his eyelids were red from squeezing them shut so hard. The blood within him that was surely boiling due to the electricity was red.

Techno’s favorite color was red. Techno. Why wasn’t Techno saving Wilbur? Maybe Techno was in as much pain as Wilbur, maybe more. Techno was probably worried about himself, Wilbur was being selfish to rely on him. Wilbur can get through this.

Another wave of pain crashed through Wilbur, causing him to flinch and shake, and this time, the intensity didn’t subside. Wilbur gasped for air, fought to take in another breath, but it felt as if his chest was tightening and tightening and tightening and tightening and tight-

“Okay, now I’m going to need you to focus on the color green.”

Green. Okay. Green like grass (what did grass look like again?), or just like the color of Dream’s eyes! His eyes were such a lovely green.

Don’t think about the pain. Try and focus on green. Try and stay awake, don’t let them win, but don’t resist either.

“He’s wrong again, Four, he doesn’t seem to care much for you. Focus on the color yellow, then.”

Of course he doesn’t care. Why would he? Focus. Yellow. That’s Wilbur’s favorite color! He used to have a yellow sweater. Yellow is the color of warmth, a happy summer day playing with Techno in a field in their childhood, making flower crowns, laying in the sun. Yellow is happiness.

Yellow. Yellow is the color of the electricity running through him. Yellow is the shocks that caused Wilbur to be here at all. Yellow caused everyone he cares about to be in pain.

He isn’t sure that yellow is his favorite color anymore.

Wilbur’s head begins to swim, and he grows woozy and is about to pass out when-

The pain stops. Like a switch has been flipped, it’s all gone.

Guards approach the chair and unstrap Wilbur. He crumples down onto the ground, his limp and weakened body folding in on itself. The last thing he hears before the black spots swimming in his vision take over and he’s unconscious is, “It seems we’re correct. He heard Four the whole time, but only spoke the correct color when he saw Four through the one-way mirror. The two are connected, definitely. Next time, once the equipment arrives, we should…”

The doctor must have said more, but Wilbur missed it as he drifts off to sleep.

He hadn’t fallen asleep on his own in a long time. It was generally protocol in their cell that whenever someone wanted to sleep, George would put them into a deep enough sleep that they wouldn’t dream.

Dreams and nightmares were equally hard. Dreams were a reminder of times that they had been happy. A time when they had been free. Waking up in reality and knowing the perfect life from the dream has been taken away hurts.

But Wilbur, for one, feared the nightmares far more. The nightmares showed all of his deepest fears. So much had been taken away from him, he didn’t care much for himself anymore, so his nightmares were a symphony of the screams of those he loved most. And he was never able to save them.

This time, Wilbur sat in a field of yellow roses. This must be a good dream, then. A time to be happy before waking up in the cell.

“Techno!” he exclaimed, and then he slapped his hand over his mouth. “Oh, I can talk in this dream!”

“Hey Wil,” Techno called out as he brushed past the roses and approached his brother. “You wanted to hang out?”

And so they did. And oh, it was wonderful. For the first time since Wilbur’s capture, he could finally speak to his brother. And he could sing, his beautiful voice echoing across the fields in this perfect world. Wilbur could almost pretend it was real.

The sea of yellow flowers parted and from it, Niki, Karl and Tommy came forth.

“Wilby!” Tommy yelled, his face turning red at the realization of what he just called his older brother figure.

Everyone started to laugh. Even Wilbur and Karl could laugh. The three joined the twins on the ground and Niki held up a picnic basket.

Inside of the basket was honeycombs and golden apples, luxuries that would never be given to someone as undeserving as a prisoner. As undeserving as Wilbur.

“Here, Wil, have an apple!” Niki said, extending the golden fruit out in her palm.

“No thanks, I’ll pass. I’m not hungry right now, sorry,” he responded. He had to make sure that they all had a perfect time, they shouldn’t waste the food on him.

To avoid any further eye contact, Wilbur turned his gaze to the firmament above them. A white dove flew around in the air, golden tipped wings spread wide.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur saw the roses turning red. Slowly, the red seeped further out onto the field.

Strange. Why does Wilbur feel a thin layer of hot, thick liquid flooding over his palms? Wilbur casually glanced downwards and then he froze.

A crimson river flowed across the field. The red liquid flowed from his friends’ mouths, as well as various gaping wounds that dotted their corpses. Little pockets in their skin, cleanly cut, causing the river to flow deeper.

Wilbur can’t save them. They’re dead, probably because of him, although he can’t put his finger on what happened. The only reason he’s even alive is to make their lives better! That, and to be tested on, but Wilbur’s not as big of a fan of that aspect.

They’re dead. Dead, dead, dead, and Wilbur couldn’t save them! He opens his mouth to scream and no noise escapes. He’s mute again.

He’s panicking, he’s dying except he CAN’T die, because this isn’t real. But oh Prime, it feels so real. He’s seen them die in his dreams again and again and again, and still it never lost its impact.

This is why Wilbur should have stayed strong enough to stay awake, he should have waited for Gogy to make him fall asleep safely. This nightmare was his punishment for being weak. But why is there so much blood?

Reality came crashing forth as the nightmare disappeared.

“Wilbur,” a little voice called out, “Wilbur, please can you wake up?” Wilbur felt small hands shaking him gently. Where was he?

Wilbur opened his eyes groggily and tried to sit up. A flash of pain ran through him and he winced and fell back over. Onto… his bed? Oh. He was back in the cell.

“Wilbur, Wilbur, oh I’m so glad you’re okay,” the voice said. Who was speaking? The spots in Wilbur’s vision cleared and he saw Tommy and Karl standing over his bedside. Tommy continued, “Wilbur, when the guards brought you and Techno back, I don’t know if you remember, so I’m telling you, you were unconscious! I know this happens a lot to everyone, but I don’t like it, it makes me scared. The guards tossed you onto the ground and left, and then they opened our gates. You were twitching and when Phil tried to pick you up and move you to your bed, you flinched really hard, like you were really hurt. We were really worried because normally when people are out cold, they don’t react so harshly to being touched. Phil also said that when he touched you, he got shocked, which is weird.”

Can you tell him I’m really sorry? Wilbur asked, slowly and shakily, despite the fact that moving his arms and hands sent pain coursing through his aching body.

“Nonononono, he’s not mad, or hurt,” Tommy said quickly.

But we just had a question for you, Wilbur, Karl added. Do you know if Techno is okay? He never cries, no matter how bad he’s feeling. Even when he’s really, really hurt from an experiment, he always has a brave face. But…

Karl put his hands down and then gestured over to Technoblade who was sitting on the ground in the corner of the bedroom with a single streak of water down his cheek.

“He’s sad, Wilbur. And we just wanted to ask you if you saw him. He was getting tested at the same time as you, so maybe you did something together? He just- he won’t talk to us, he’s just staring at the ground. We wanted to make sure you’re both okay.”

I’m fine , Wilbur assured, lying with ease. Maybe you two should let Techno be for now, and we can all play later, alright?

Okay Wilbur! Feel better! Karl and Tommy smiled and waved goodbye to Wilbur. Then the pair ran off towards where Sapnap and Tubbo were yelling at each other so they could watch the fight for entertainment.

Wilbur pushed himself up off the mattress and tried to stand on the ground. It didn’t work, and he toppled over, landing on his side right by Techno’s feet.

He forced himself to grin when Techno’s gaze met his own. He rolled over flat onto his back and signed, What’s up?

Wilbur, Techno responded, I’m so sorry.

Why?

“Do you mind if I explain verbally? I can’t sign very fast yet,” Techno asked, and Wilbur shook his head indicating that he didn’t mind at all.

“Okay. I- well… do you remember where we just were?” Wilbur nodded, and then winced when the rapid head movement made his head throb harder. “Okay. Well, I heard you thinking that the doctor said I was supposed to save you? Wow, that sounds weird, let me explain further. So, you know about Chat, the voices in my head? Yeah, I hear them all the time. But sometimes, I can also hear… you. What you’re thinking, I mean. Only occasionally, though. But when I was in that white room, I could hear you thinking about the color red for whatever reason. The thoughts even drowned out Chat’s carrying on. And then the doctor in the room asked me what color you were thinking about. And I didn’t want them to know about this, or about Chat. So I told them that I wasn’t sure, and that I would guess blue. They all shot dirty looks at me and then went back to their notepads and communicators. Then the color you were thinking about changed to green, and they asked me again and I said purple.”

Techno took a deep breath and then continued.

“Then they said they knew I was lying, and they were going to have to give me some incentive so I would be be complacent. Then they illuminated the one way mirror. At least, that’s what I thought it was. Some sort of big screen on the wall. And it showed me you, and you were hooked up to this big machine thing, and you were trying so hard to scream, and you looked like you were in so much pain! And it was so loud in my head, I could hear how much pain you were in, and your thoughts were screaming, and Chat was screaming, and the only thing I could focus on was a bright yellow! And when they asked me again what color you were thinking of, I screamed ‘YELLOW! YELLOW! JUST PLEASE STOP HURTING HIM!’ and then they smiled and the mirror-screen flicked off and then they gestured for the guards to take me, and they must have seen it in my eyes that I was gonna try and fight to get to you and try and save you because they used the paralyzer again, so what little movement I was able to make was reduced to nothing. And… it’s my fault that you were so hurt. I could have saved you in the beginning but I was being selfish. I didn’t know you were being shocked! And I know the experiments are always bad, but as your brother, if I could stop even one moment of pain for you, I would do it. Except I didn’t.”

Techno’s eyes started to well up again, so Wilbur sat up and held Techno’s hands in his. Wilbur looked right into Techno’s eyes and smiled, then he pulled his hands away so he could sign.

I’m okay, really! I’m not angry at you. Please, don’t feel sad over me. I’m sure you’ve had worse, and I’m strong too! Please don’t cry. Tommy will never let you forget it if you do, you know.

Techno smiled softly and spoke. “If I could move my arms right now, I’d hug you.” Wilbur’s face twisted into a huge grin and he clumsily threw himself into his brother’s limp embrace.

The two didn’t separate for a short while, and when Wilbur stood up to leave Techno alone to gain his mobility again, it was only because Tommy had yelled for Wilbur to come over and play with them.

Wish me luck with those rascals, Wilbur signed, and then he walked over towards the hyperactive child who had summoned him.

“Wiiiiiiiil,” Tommy whined, “me, Sapnap, Tubbo and Karl are bored and we want you to play with us. Do you have any game ideas?”

Hey, if you need me to entertain you, here’s a game! Come up with a game! That’ll be fun, then come back to bugging me, alright? He teased.

The kids decided that they wanted to play a game of who could get George to angrily force them to fall asleep first. They came to a consensus on the rules (which entailed not hurting anyone, and that telling George what they were up to was forbidden) and then they began to play.

Wilbur lost himself in the fun-filled haze that was childish joy and let his memories from earlier that day suppress themselves.

As Wilbur called Dream a loser in front of George, making the brunette mad and causing him to make Wilbur fall asleep out of spite, Wilbur signed to Tommy, Fuck you, I win! before blacking out.

Hey, everyone has their coping mechanisms, right?

Chapter Text

“Hey Ranboo, whatcha doin’?” Tubbo enquired, hanging upside down from his bunk above the bi-colored boy who was barely awake.

“Mmmmm-no,” Ranboo mumbled, “I don’t wanna get up.”

“Well that’s too bad, bossman. If you wanna go back to sleep you’ll have to go get Gogy, because you’re awake and you can’t turn back now. And George won’t let you go back asleep right now anyways, because he’s busy trying to steal his two-day old bread back from Tommy. Gogy was hoarding that piece for when the guards stop bringing food and now Tommy’s got hold of it. And there’s no way Tommy’s getting caught unless he wants to be, so… yeah you’re not going back to sleep, Ranboo.”

“Welp,” Ranboo responds, sitting up and clapping his hands very loudly, “I guess I’m meant to entertain you, huh?”

“Holy fuck Ranboo, that clap was loud, that didn’t… oh, nevermind,” Tubbo corrected, not finishing his statement.

“What?”

“No- no, no it’s nothing. A slip of the mind, mental slip, what do they call it, mental relapse, maybe? Nothing you need to go on about.”

“Well, it’s something! What were you going to say, did you have something to do? I’m kind of bored of doing the same five or so games every waking hour.”

“You really wanna know what I was going to say?” Tubbo asked, and was answered with a nod from the taller boy. “It was dumb, I forgot… I was gonna ask if clapping your hands that loud hurt.”

“Oh.”

“Yup,” Tubbo said, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “Anyways,” he added, changing the subject while swinging back up onto and then climbing down from the bed, “wanna go help Tommy antagonize Gogy?”

“Sure,” Ranboo responded, a small grin creeping onto his face. As he followed the brunette out of the bedroom and into the main cell, he couldn’t keep his wandering mind off of the scene that had just unfolded.

He couldn’t be mad at Tubbo. That would be unfair. Moreover so, it would be very hypocritical of Ranboo to be mad at Tubbo for forgetting something.

Sure, Tubbo forgot that for Ranboo, feeling pain wasn’t really a thing. It kinda sucked, in a way, to not know you were bleeding from a huge wound until you got dizzy from the blood loss and fainted. When the doctors tried to see if Ranboo would be able to teleport, they’d test that sort of thing a lot.

But if Ranboo were to care, at all, that Tubbo forgot his whole pain deal, even for the two seconds it was, he’d be the biggest hypocrite in the whole world.

Ranboo doesn’t really remember… anything. Rather, he doesn’t remember anything from before his imprisonment. One time, Tubbo was crying late at night, and when Ranboo awoke to his soft sobs and went to comfort his friend, Tubbo had whispered how lucky Ranboo was to not remember his past.

Maybe he was really lucky. There was a huge possibility that Ranboo had a horribly traumatic past! He would still like to recall it, though.

Why was he cursed with a bad memory? Others got to play back their lives with ease, meanwhile he was stuck almost completely in the present. It just didn’t seem fair.

He didn’t know Tubbo’s past, but he knew it wasn’t very happy. Ranboo had noticed that everyone with a generally happy background had opened up about where they had come from (or in George’s case, everyone had already known about him because he was so famous).

Niki had never talked about her past, besides the alleged deaf mother. And Karl never mentioned his backstory either, but maybe that was because it’d take a while to sign everything out. Ranboo never bugged them or Tubbo about it, because again, that would be hypocritical.

The thing about forgetting is that once you have forgotten you don't realize there is a lack of anything. How could you notice the absence of wide smiles and laughter, if you don't even remember the feelings you felt from it? There was nothing to mourn, no recollection of loss.

But having no recollection of his past could be scary sometimes.

Ranboo’s first memory that he has to this day is when Tubbo had fainted and everyone got food for the first time. It was a whole ordeal, but Ranboo doesn’t entirely remember why.

Sometimes the others in the cell spoke about a shared time they had spent before they had been brought to this room, and how painful that whole situation was for the lot of them.

Dream had once mentioned a layer of water on the ground. It’s a blessing, really, that Ranboo doesn’t recall that, because water burns him.

But once the mist settled and everyone had calmed after Tubbo’s fainting from hunger and the first delivery of food, Ranboo was terrified.

He hadn’t known anything. All around him were entities he couldn’t put a name to, and he was in a strange and new situation. Or maybe not. This could have been a regular happening, he didn’t have any way to know.

He just sat there, hoping not to be noticed, and hoping even a morsel of remembrance would drift to him in the haze of confusion he was in.

That was when Tubbo approached him.

“Hey, are you okay?” he had asked, and Ranboo had shakily shook his head no.

“Here,” the smaller boy added, extending a small chunk of bread out in his hand. “You need to eat, bossman.”

Ranboo had tilted his head to the side a bit at the mention of ‘eating’. Was that the strange ritual the others in the room were performing?

“W-wh… Wha-t i..is t-hat?” he forced out, surprised that not only could he understand this strange language, he could speak it too, to an extent.

“What’s what? Oh Prime, eating? YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT-“ Tubbo stopped mid shout, as he was drawing confused glances from the strangers in the room. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Do you… not know what eating is?”

Ranboo shook his head and averted his gaze to the floor.

“Um, eating, so, you need it to live. I’m not sure how you’ve lived your whole life without it…?”

“I don’t… re-rememb… er… any-anything,” Ranboo muttered. At his confession, Tubbo’s eyes had widened in shock.

“Oh. Do you know your name, at least?”

A name? The idea of possessing such a thing had seemed familiar to Ranboo at the time, but the definition of the word and what it entailed was lost in the haze.

“What’s t-that?” he stuttered.

“Okay, a name… it’s… well, a name is what you call yourself, it’s what people use when they refer to you. It’s your identity, okay? Do you understand? Well, it’s like a special word, it’s all yours. It’s… who you are! So, my name’s Tubbo. That’s what you call me. You can say… Hello! This is my new friend Tubbo.” At Ranboo’s confused stare, Tubbo had quickly added, “Oh, a friend is someone close to you, someone you care about. You’re there for them, and they’re there for you. It’s… kinda like a family except you choose them, it’s a person who you love.”

“I don’t-t remem.. ber m-my name,” Ranboo whispered, having just come crashing to the depressing realization. “Who… am I-I?”

Tubbo stepped back for a second. He wasn’t the best equipped to deal with this situation. He had never done anything right, ever.

That was when Tubbo noticed a pen marking on Ranboo’s left hand.

“Hey, you’re okay, uh, it’s okay. Can I… look at your hand really quick?” he asked, and then didn’t wait for a response, grabbing Ranboo’s hand to examine it. “Oh, this is a word! A name, maybe?”

“What does-ss it s-say?” Ranboo asked, tripping over the letter ‘s’ with such an intensity that he felt himself blush in an embarrassed manner.

“R… ran… bo? No, that’s… two o’s. Uh… Ranboo, I think? It’s kinda hard to read.”

The pair came to decide that Ranboo would be named Ranboo, as the word simply gave the heterochromatic child a warm and happy feeling in his stomach.

Thinking back now, the chance that his hand actually had ‘Ranboo’ written on it was slim to none. Not only had Tubbo been disoriented from fainting, his vision blurry, he was also dyslexic. In any case, he was Ranboo. Everyone liked that name, Ranboo most of all.

It had been scary not knowing who he was. It was awkward, too. Everyone was so sad, and Ranboo didn’t really get it. They had told him time and time again why they were in the cell, and what had caused it, but Ranboo just couldn’t bring himself to grieve over a world he had no recollection of living in.

He had found out from a doctor that he used to be able to teleport. That was the coolest thing! What was a lot less cool was that he couldn’t anymore, because he couldn’t take damage.

Tommy thought that him not taking damage was an entire new power in itself, and sometimes he would try and hurt Ranboo a little bit to see if the teen would react. Ranboo never did, though.

It was kind of embarrassing. Prime, everything was. He just felt like a blank slate, someone that was only kept around because no one had any choice in the matter.

And his stupid brain didn’t always know when to stop. His memory problems would persist, and every once and a while, he would find himself forgetting something.

He’d stare at someone and just wouldn’t be able to put a name to the face for a moment’s time. But, Tubbo’s voice, (or anyone’s for that matter, but especially Tubbo) would always ground him and the memories would come rushing back.

But Ranboo couldn’t be sad about anything that he had supposedly lost, so he was pretty happy.

“Oi, Boob Boy, are we going to play Dont Let Gogy Get His Bread or what?” Tommy asked, pulling Ranboo from his reminiscing train of thought.

“S-sorry,” he apologized. Then George suddenly appeared behind Tommy.

“Tommy, can I have my bread back?” George whispered into Tommy’s ear. “By the way, if you don’t hand it back over, I’ll ask Dream to MAKE you give it back to me. His arm is enabled right now, he could do it.”

Tommy knew that George could get Dream to possess him, and he did not want Dream to have full control over his body.

“Okay Gogy, have the bread,” Tommy relented, and he handed George the bread. George took it and left.

“Listen, I have an idea for an experiment we can do,” Tubbo interjected, and was met with mild looks of terror on the other two boys’ faces. “No- nonono, sorry, not an experiment, not an exp-experiment,” he amended frantically, imagining the flashes of bad memories that he’s likely brought upon anyone in earshot of that horrible fucking word.

“Oh, I’m saying all the wrong things today! I’m really not keeping it together! Haha… So, it’s not an… e-word, it’s a little… test. A fun test! Fun for us three, anyway.”

Ranboo took a deep breath and tried to focus on Tubbo’s good intentions, not his mistakes. Ranboo hoped Tubbo was alright, that he wasn’t going through anything mentally.

“So, what I propose we do is simple. I wanna find out if Bad is able to lie. I know that when his attention is turned to us, we can’t lie, but is he able to? It’s a curse that afflicts us all, but is he susceptible to his own evils? Can he lie? Gentlemen, this is the question we answer today.”

“I… I don’t know, Tubbo. It just feels like…” Tommy lowers his voice to be barely a whisper and then continues. “It feels like an experiment. You just… you sound like those fucking doctors going on about their hypothesises and the scientific method and that shit.”

Ranboo was mildly confused. He had no idea what those last few words meant, but this sort of occurrence wasn’t rare. What was far more unusual was that Tubbo seemed to share his look of confusion at the mention of those terms.

“Wait… did you guys ever go to school?” Tommy asked, and was answered with a shrug from Ranboo and Tubbo sadly shaking his head. Ranboo didn’t know what school was, but he assumed Tubbo knew. So he wouldn’t bring it up.

“Oh Prime, are you two lucky or what? School is boring as fuck, man. All we even learn about is how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, oh- and a couple days before… you know what happened, we started learning the quadratic formula which will be useful NEVER, and fuuuuck dude,” he sighed, “it was just boring and useless. I’d still rather go, though than be here.”

The awkward conversation turned into a deafening silence that was finally interrupted by Tommy continuing his previous statement.

“Anyways, as I was saying, I don’t wanna be like the doctors. I don’t want to treat Bad like a whole… science case, less than human, even if it is just BAD who’s pretty lame and also it’d be fun to see if he lies… I don’t know, it’s just overstepping our boundaries.”

Tubbo nodded. “Sorry, I- you’re right Tommy.”

“Always am!” Tommy quipped, grinning.

“Ahh, fuck you!”

The trio began to giggle, but when the happy moment was over, they were left with nothing to do.

“So, uh, should we ask if anyone wants to… entertain us?” Ranboo said.

And with perfect timing, Sapnap came running over.

“Guys!” he exclaimed, “Guys, me and Karl, we had the best, the BEST game idea ever ever-in-the-history-of-the-world ever!”

“Okay, slow down, deep breath, then continue,” Phil called out from across the room. “I’m not having anyone fainting on my watch!”

“Ugh, fine,” Sapnap groaned, and then he paused to take a breath before continuing. “Well, we didn’t technically invent the game, but, well, so, umm…”

At Sapnap’s hesitation to explain well, Karl came running over.

Have you guys heard of… M-A-R-C-O P-O-L-O? Karl asked them.

“Oh, the pool game?” Tommy inquired while Ranboo and Tubbo shook their heads indicating their lack of knowledge about the game.

Yes! Karl signed, grinning. Sapnap and I had the idea that we can play the game but we’re not in the water, and also instead of saying P-O-L-O we just clap twice or something, and that’s because I can’t really say P-O-L-O, so I’d win every time if no one can find me.

Also, Sapnap added, I already talked to Purpled who had the amazing idea that he would be the one to say M-A-R-C-O because he can’t cheat! Because he can’t see, so he can’t look for us, he has to listen for the clapping!

That feels kinda mean, though, doesn’t it? Tommy responded. I mean, we’re using his disability to our advantage in a game of M-A-R-C-O P-O-LO, it’s a bit messed up.

I thought the same thing, but he doesn’t seem to mind, it was his idea! I’m sure that if anything, he’s happy, in a strange way, to have a special role made just for him in a game , Sapnap signed.

“Okay, cool, so you wanna play that now, then?”

The five of them proceeded to grab Purpled and start up a game. They ran around the main cell, laughing and screaming, for hours before Sapnap had to be taken from the cell for an experiment.

“Awww, bye Sapnap! We can play when you get back, if you’re up to it!” Purpled said, and everyone nodded in agreement.

The five continued to play together until Purpled grew tired from his endless search for his friends and went to ask George to let him take a nap. Since the key player in their game was asleep, the remaining four decided to go and bug Dream.

“Dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam,” Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo whined while Karl stood behind them for support, “Dreeeeeeeam we’re bored.”

Bad heard their caterwauling and walked over. “Hey, when I was thirteen like the three of you, I-“

“OH,” Tommy screeched in a high pitched vocal impression of an old man, “BACK IN MY DAY, WHEN I WAS YOU KIDS’ AGE,”

“Okay, okay,” Bad reprimanded, “but seriously…”

“What are you trying to say, Bad? Are you,” Ranboo gasped audibly and over the top, “are you insinuating that we are immature for thirteen year olds?”

“Well, yeah, that’s true, but-“

“My man’s going on about how immature we are,” Tommy interrupted, “but he probably was in, like, a gang when he was a kid.”

“No! I wasn’t! I’m- I was a police detective! I wasn’t in any gangs! I’ve never worked as a criminal, ever!”

Upon hearing Bad’s raised voice, Phil sauntered over.

“Now, what’s so bad about being a villain?”

“No, nothing, you gUYS,” Bad exclaimed exasperatedly, “I’m just trying to tell you that-“

“Phil! Phil- Phil he disrespected your world views and profession!” Tubbo goaded, “Phil, beat him up!”

“No, I’m not going to beat Bad up, I just-“

“Okay, everyone, please, for a second. Tommy, was I in a gang?” Bad asked, knowing full well that a direct question would force Tommy to tell the truth.

“No!” Tommy earnestly responded, and then he began to scowl at his fun being spoiled.

“Now that that’s all settled, what I was GOING to say was that I have a game for you muffinheads if you’re still bored.”

“Really? Thank you!” Ranboo said. Finally, something for them to do besides Tag (which Tommy had won a suspicious amount of times, despite having promised not to use his speed), and Bad had never really played with them, so maybe he would!

“Well actually,” Bad corrected, “it’s less of a game and more of an activity. And you also can’t do it right this minute. Uh, let me explain. The activity is that you have someone toss a piece of food into the air and you try and catch it in your mouth. You could turn it into gambling-“

“We are not letting the children gamble!” Phil interjected, “Especially over something as scarce and necessary as food.”

But the four had already been hyped up over the idea and didn’t hear Phil’s protesting. They ran over to go ask Technoblade if he would throw the food for them.

“Techno!” Tubbo said. “Can you-“

“No,” Techno said, not even looking up from his and Wilbur’s obviously intense game of chopsticks.

“But Technoooooo,” Tommy whined. “Pleeeease?”

Hey, guys, we’re busy. Throw your own food!  Wilbur told them, and they knew he was right.

“Anyways,” Techno added nonchalantly, “we don’t even have any food right now. How do you expect to play an entirely food-centric game with a lack of such?”

We didn’t get any food yesterday, so we assumed that the guards would bring us some soon, Karl signed.

“Yeah, exactly! We’ll all be fed any minute now. We just have to wait, and then we can do our new game!”

The children waited for what felt like hours, just watching Techno and Wilbur play chopsticks and neither one of the twins relenting, winning, or losing. Finally, the guard approached the cell to speak.

“Finally,” Tommy groaned, “some food so we can pl-“

Tommy was cut off by suddenly crumpling paralyzed to the ground at the push of a button by the guard.

“Proceed behind the cell bars, we will be extracting number Ten for an experiment,” the guard commanded. Tommy gave an exasperated glance up to his friends.

Ranboo waved sheepishly as he retreated into his bedroom, with Tubbo and Karl following behind him.

The bars began to creak shut and the trio watched as Tommy was picked up and brought out of the cell. Once Tommy was gone and the cell was locked again, but the children decided there was no point in leaving the bedroom.

Now what are we supposed to do? Karl asked.

Yeah, we haven’t been fed in a while. I’m so bored. And hungry, Tubbo complained.

Sapnap’s not back yet either, but I guess there’s been more overlap in experimentation lately. Maybe the prison’s hired more staff? Ranboo signed. Just then, Niki walked over to the group.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to borrow Karl. Karl, we’re going to do another lesson and some practice for signing now, okay?”

No, Niki, why? Karl pouted. I practice it every minute! I don’t even have a choice! I don’t want to do lessons right now!

Well, I hate to have to incentivize with rewards, but… if you come now, I’ll teach you how to say M-A-R-C-O P-O-L-O .

Is there even a word for that? Also what does, Karl made the hand sign for incentivize, mean?

“Incentivize,” Niki informed the fluffy haired child.

What does incentivize mean?

“To, uh… to provide someone with an incentive for doing something,” she responded.

Ok! Karl signed, completely oblivious to the meaning of incentive, and he followed Niki over to where Wilbur was already waiting in the older teen’s room.

“Ugh, now I’m stuck with the most boring of the six of us, Ranboo!” Tubbo teased in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey, I’m not boring! You… you’re boring!” Ranboo retorted.

“You actually suck at comebacks, Boo.”

“N-no, you suck!” he responded, sticking out his tongue.

At that moment, the bars of their bedroom creaked shut.

“Oh,” Tubbo said, “the guard must have asked everyone to head into the rooms again. Why so soon after Tommy had to go? It can’t have been ten minutes!”

The pair peered out between the bars and looked at the main cell, where a few loaves of bread and Sapnap’s unconscious body were being tossed onto the ground. The guards left and the bedrooms opened once again.

“Ranboo, can you help me pick up Sapnap and move him into his bed? Then we can eat.”

“Yeah, sure!” Ranboo responded, and the duo walked over to where Sapnap was laying on the hard floor. Ranboo scooped his arms under Sapnap’s, and Tubbo took hold of the unconscious boy’s feet. Then the two of them lifted Sapnap up and walked him over to his bed.

“Okay, now that he’s all set, shall we dine, my good sir?” Tubbo asked, putting on a suave demeanor that made Ranboo giggle.

The two ran back over to where the loaves of bread had been tossed to the ground and saw that there were only four today.

“There used to be enough for everyone to get their own loaf,” Ranboo overheard Dream whisper to Bad and George. “I’m legitimately worried that someone’s going to get sick. A third of a loaf of bread isn’t enough to keep someone going for two days.”

Ranboo gulped and took a deep breath. Surely, everything was fine. He followed Tubbo over to where Karl and Wilbur were eating.

“Hey,” Tubbo said, “can Ranboo and I have the other half of you guys’ bread loaf? If I did the division correctly… wait, one sec…” he trailed off.

Yes Tubbo, Wilbur signed, if there’s thirteen of us, three loaves can be split between three people and the fourth must be split between four. You did the division right, nice job! And yeah, here, have the other half.

Wilbur tossed the stale bread over to the child and Tubbo caught it, nearly fumbling it and dropping it, but recovering. Tubbo ripped the bread into two pieces and handed one to his taller friend. Then the pair plopped down next to Karl and Wilbur.

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Karl placed the small chunk of bread he was nibbling at on the ground and started to sign.

You two can talk, you know. It’s okay, we don’t mind just listening! The silence is awkward anyways.

“Oh sure, yeah we can do that!” Ranboo replied.

Tubbo, who wasn’t looking at Karl at the moment, asked, “Wait, sorry, what did you ask, Karl? I wasn’t looking.”

I just said that you can talk if you want to. The silence is annoying.

“Okay, yeah we can talk. Uh… about what?” Tubbo inquired. Karl shrugged and continued to nibble the corner of his bread.

“I’m just gonna eat then. You deal with your silence, Mr. Time Traveller Man,” Tubbo stated, teasing again.

The group sat there, taking small bites of their hard bread. It was not a very exciting moment.

Ranboo decided to lose himself to daydreams, wondering about the world outside the cell. He had lived there for years, probably, but he didn’t remember it. No one had really told him about what normal life was like out there!

He knew that other people had powers, just not as strong as theirs. What sort of powers did they all have, though?

“Guys,” Ranboo blurted before he could stop himself, “what were your lives like before we were all captured?”

His three companions looked up from their bread to stare at Ranboo blankly.

“Oh- oh frick,” Ranboo said, remembering the unspoken agreement to not mention their pasts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable! I just- I… I don’t really… remember? My life, or what it was like? Ah, I’m so sorry, I just wanted to know…”

No, you’re okay. My life was pretty great, if I’m being honest. I just feel sad thinking about… everything that I’ve lost. But, my life was relatively normal, for a while anyways, so I can answer questions if you have them, Wilbur offered.

No, no, no, that’s okay, I don’t want to make you feel sad. I’m okay, I just wasn’t thinking, Ranboo reassured them, not convincing Wilbur one bit. Regardless, Wilbur nodded, accepting Ranboo’s words.

Tubbo, on the other hand, looked a lot more uncomfortable than the others. His eyes were wide like a deer in headlights, and his breathing seemed to be becoming more rapid.

“Hey, Tubbo, are you okay?” Ranboo asked.

“Yeah… Yes! Yes, I am very much great. But I am… tired so I’m going to ask Gogy if I can go to sleep now,” Tubbo said. His words were rigid and awkward, and he promptly stood up and walked over to George.

“I… I guess I’ll j-join him,” Ranboo stuttered. “I didn’t get very much sleep last time I was sleeping. Tubbo had to go and wake me up.”

I mean, it might be nighttime, so enjoy your sleep! I’ll probably join you when Wil and I are done eating, Karl responded.

He was right, as well. It might be nighttime, and there was no way to keep track of time in any way, shape or form.

Ranboo walked up to George, and before he could even ask, George said, “Okay Ranboo, you’re tired too?” Ranboo nodded.

“Okay, let’s get you into bed and I’ll put you to sleep,” George proposed. He walked over to Ranboo’s room and the teen followed him. George lifted the thin blanket and Ranboo snuggled under it.

“Thanks, Gogy,” Ranboo whispered as George looked him in the eyes and his eyelids flickered shut as the man used his ability. He felt himself descend into sleep as a warm smile creeped onto his face.

————-

Ranboo’s eyes slowly blinked open. A soft sobbing from the bunk above him pulled Ranboo to consciousness. Where was he? Who was h-

His name is Ranboo and he is in his bedroom. He lives in a cell with his best friends and everyone he’s ever known. Or remembered, really. He used to be able to teleport, and in order to prevent him from doing such, the doctors took away his ability to feel pain. The doctors aren’t very nice. They hurt Ranboo and his friends.

Who is sobbing? Ranboo slid out of his bed and stood up to look at the two beds that were above his. Tubbo slept above him and Tommy slept above Tubbo. Tommy is not in his bed right now. Tubbo is in his, though.

Tears are streaming down Tubbo’s face. Ranboo reached out to lend a comforting touch to Tubbo, but the second his hands made contact with Tubbo’s wet skin, Ranboo recoiled as his hand burnt and he heard a sizzling noise.

Water, right. Can’t touch that.

“Hey, hey, T-Tubbo? Are you okay?” Ranboo muttered.

“N-no… no no no NO NO NO NO!” Tubbo begged, not fully conscious or aware of where he was, “please… please stop, please sir, oh no no please…”

“Ahh, okay, Tubbo, you’re okay, you’re not… wherever you think you are. You’re here with me, it’s me, Ranboo. You’re okay, uhh, count with me, ready? One, two, three, four, deep breaths you’re doing great, Tubbo, f-five, six, seven,”

“R-Ranboo?” Tubbo whimpered.

“Yeah? Are you okay? Do you need to talk? Or- or do you need to be alone, because I can go, I can… if you need anything I can-“

“Please…” Tubbo sobbed, “can you stay with me?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo assured his friend, climbing up the ladder to join Tubbo in his bed and cuddling up next to him. “I’m right here for you. Always will be.”

“Is it okay if I… get something off my chest?”

“Sure? What’s wrong?”

“I, uh… I haven’t told anyone about this, but I used to… work for this villain syndicate.”

“That’s nothing bad, though! I know Phil was a villain, Sapnap too!”

“Yeah, but… is it okay if I just… trauma dump on you?”

“Sure, okay. If it’ll make you feel better, of course!”

“I didn’t work for the villains by choice. They, uh, kidnapped me. When I was a toddler, or something. I don’t remember my real family very well. Yknow how most kids show signs of their powers around age six to eight?” Tubbo asked, and Ranboo shook his head.

“No, that’s true, you wouldn’t know that. But anyways, I started being able to use my power when I was… maybe four? It was the stupidest origin story. My mom gave me a little stuffed… cat, I think, and she came back into the room to see that I was sitting in like, this pile of 30 of those cats,” he chuckled.

“And I don’t remember much after this, but I remember the look of pride on her face, she was so happy to see that I had an OP power. Less than a week later, I watched as my parents and younger sister were shot and killed. I ran over to my sister, who was dead on the ground in a pool of her own blood, and Prime, it was horrible.

“Then one of the masked villains whipped this big… stick thing into my head and I was knocked out. I… I woke up in a dark room, which sounds a lot like here, but it really wasn’t. I was in… some sort of drug lab. No, it was definitely a drug lab. And there was this guy, and he had a gun that was still wet with my family’s blood…

“And he told me- he told me that I would make all of their… exports, he called them, and they’d let me live. So I just r-remained there. Chained to the ground. Occasionally… just often enough that I would stay alive… they’d bring me food and water. In a dog bowl. A fucking dog bowl! They didn’t treat me like a person!

“They’d fucking kick me and I’d whimper like a dog too, and I’d be too weak or scared to resist, and I just… so, everyday I’d make weapons or drugs or whatever they needed me to. They probably just didn’t want to spend money on getting more supplies, so they got me. And when I got older, maybe ten? I uh… realized that the guy had told me he’d only leave me alive if I worked hard every day. And I could just… not work!

“And finally, finally! I’d be able to leave, I could cease to exist! I could die! My… self esteem, or self worth, whatever you call it… wasn’t very high, back then. Being with you guys… I’m a lot happier, even if I’m still not fully considered human… you think I’m worthy of your time and affection. I mean, I’m saying this like it’d be possible to kill myself here, the doctors have tried really hard to not let us have any escape. But back then… I tried so hard just to get them to kill me. I had a lot more hope, when I was younger.

“I spent a day refusing to duplicate a single thing. I was hoping they’d shoot me then, but they didn’t. And when my fucking bowl was slid over to my side, I refused to eat. And I thought that I outsmarted them! But they didn’t want to give up… the best business investment they ever made.

“They held me down, and th-they force fed me. If I refused to work at any given moment, they’d hurt me and torture me, but never kill me, and I just wasn’t able to escape! And looking back now, I was a fucking baby because all the experiments and torture hurt way more than my little punishments did back then,” Tubbo concluded. He looked up from his hands to see Ranboo’s eyes wide and watery.

“Oh,” Tubbo gasped, “oh Ranboo, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… oh fuck I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m really okay now! Y-you know that I can’t even kill myself if I tried! And I don’t need to even try anymore, because I have-“

Tubbo was cut off by Ranboo thrusting forwards and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Oh Tubbo, I-I’m so sorry that happened. I’m glad you were able to talk about it.”

Tubbo shoved his face into Ranboo’s shoulder and started to cry again.

“I just- the flashbacks keep coming back. And in some sick and twisted way, neither of these two lives are an improvement to the other. I’ve never… never in my whole life been treated like an equal. Except with my family, and you know how that turned out… and you guys. And I didn’t want to make anyone sad, we’re all trying to keep up the fucking FACADE that everything will be okay and that we’re happy. I’m so sorry Ranboo. I just… had to talk about it.”

Just then, Tommy entered the room.

“Hey,” the blonde said, “uh… are you okay, Tubbo?”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Tubbo amended. “I’m okay.”

“Okay well, Sapnap gained consciousness about an hour ago and he said he wasn’t hungry and we could have his bread for our game! So I was waiting for you guys to wake up, but you were taking for-EVER to get up so I decided I would come in here and get you. And if you’re up, and you’re okay… it’s time! Get up then! Chop chop! It’s bread time!” Tommy commanded.

Tubbo wiped his face dry with his bright orange sleeve and slid down the ladder to the floor. Ranboo followed suit, and the pair walked over to where Tommy and Karl were ripping up a chunk of bread into little pieces, about the size of a thumbnail.

The pieces are small so we won’t get them stuck in our throats, Karl informed them.

“Choking, that’s the word. I don’t know how to sign that,” Tommy said, “but they’re gonna be small so we don’t choke.”

Ranboo kneeled down next to Karl and helped divide the bread into smaller pieces. Tubbo sat down besides Tommy with his token mischievous grin and took a piece of bread out of Tommy’s hands and popped it in his mouth before Tommy could stop him.

“Oi! You can’t put the bread in your mouth! We have to throw it first!” Tommy shouted. Tubbo picked up a larger chunk of bread and Tommy reached out to grab it from the shorter boy. Tubbo started to rip the bread and shot Tommy a smug look. This warranted a silent giggle from Karl, who keeled over grinning.

Finally, the four finished situating their bread and got ready for their game.

“Okay, I will now state the rules,” Tommy announced. Karl and Tubbo nodded determinedly and Ranboo gave a thumbs up.

“Each of us will take turns having a bread bit tossed towards our mouths by the thrower of our choice. If you catch it, you’re still in until the next round. If you miss and the bread doesn’t land in your mouth, you’re out. More skill equals more bread for you. If all four of us get out, then all four are back in. The game continues until all the bread is gone. Ready?”

“Yep!” Tubbo said. “Can I go first?”

Tubbo proceeded to sneeze when the bread was airborne and he did not catch it. Ranboo, Tommy and Karl faired better, making it a few more rounds before they decided the game was too easy if the thrower aims right at the contestant’s mouth, so they would throw slightly harder to catch pieces.

Tommy proceeded to throw a piece up in the air that was so high that Karl jumped as high as he could and the bread hit him square on the forehead.

“Oh! You’re out now, bossman!” Tubbo called out, glad that someone else was eliminated.

Hey, that’s not fair! I’m not tall enough to get that! Karl argued.

Nope, you’re out, step aside for the biggest man, it’s my turn, Tommy responded.

Tommy picked Karl to throw his bread, and Karl tossed the chunk relatively far to the right out of spite to Tommy, but the speedy teen ran over to the bread suspiciously fast before catching it in his mouth and landing dramatically on his side and smiling smugly.

“Oh come on now, you can’t use your power! That’s gotta be cheating,” Tubbo protested, “none of us are even able to use our powers, you’re not allowed to use yours!”

“The rules never specified that!” Tommy yelled. “If you didn’t want me to win, you should have added it to the rules. Too late now, bitch!”

Ranboo took his turn and was able to catch the bread that Tubbo tossed directly towards him. Tommy and Ranboo took their turns in succession, and after a few turns, Ranboo watched in dismay after a piece of bread bounced off his chin and fell the the ground.

The bread never found its way to the ground, though, because Tommy slid over under where the piece was falling and opened his mouth so he would catch it. Ranboo stared at the little gremlin below him, eating his bread.

“Looks like you’re out, Ranboob,” Tommy said, swallowing the bread.

“That’s not my name,” Ranboo muttered, but he stepped aside.

The spiteful eliminated contestants each took turns trying to make Tommy miss his catch, but he never did. Even when Tubbo chucked his piece halfway across the room, Tommy would sprint over and the bread would land in his mouth. Sure, he had to jump over George’s head to do it, but it was pretty cool.

The game evolved from trying to get Tommy to fail out of spite to a game where the trio would see how extreme their throws would be and if Tommy could still get the bread.

Then Ranboo made the horrible decision to toss his piece of bread directly at Technoblade. When Tommy jumped to eat the bread, he fell into Techno’s lap.

Before Techno could even react, Tommy let out an over the top scream and ran into his room.

Tubbo, Karl and Ranboo began to laugh at Tommy’s silliness, and only laughed harder upon noticing Tommy’s murderous stare.

“Bruh,” Techno said from where he still sat on the ground, and Tommy peaked around the corner of the room to lock eyes with the pink haired teen.

Techno reciprocated the death stare and Tommy screamed again and ducked back into the room. Techno smiled and returned to doing whatever he was doing.

Tubbo offered the remaining bread crumbs up to his two friends and they had a mini feast.

It made Ranboo feel good, the thought that people can persevere and feel happy in the face of any hardship. Things could always be better, but working on those little moments to bring a grin to a friend’s face would always be the highlight of Ranboo’s day.

Stale bread kinda sucks though.

Chapter Text

“… yes his- … -th Four and Five definit- … -Sev- … yes we’re starting soo- … knife … -ot for this one, for S-… sleep…”

George heard snippets of the conversation the doctors were having as he tried to use his power to fight the drugs that were pulling him unconscious. Against any normal drugs, he’d be able to force himself awake with ease, but he was being given so many drugs that a normal person would overdose and die, and due to this fact, he couldn’t wake up.

He was lying down on a white table that was cold and hard. His hands were loosely chained to the table, but not so much so that he was restrained. If he could wake up, he’d be able to sit up and maybe even hop off the table, and walk around a foot or so.

From George’s gauge of distance based off of how far away the doctors sounded, he wouldn’t be able to get to them. But, still, they were in the same room as him. That was unusual, for sure.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open and he darted up into a sitting position. All of the energy that he had been pumping into himself began to actually show, and he started to vibrate slightly before regulating his energy and calming himself down.

“Wow, feisty today, aren’t we? You must’ve been fighting to wake up that whole time, yeah?” the doctor asked, and George assumed the question was rhetorical. Talking to the doctors, or even making eye contact with one, was normally grounds for punishment, and George was not in the mood to be tortured.

“Anyways Two, you’re going to be using your power today,” the second doctor continued. “We’ve brought in someone for you to use it on, and you’re going to keep using the power to its full extent until we say so.”

The doctor stood up and walked across the chilly white room to a door, and was careful to stay on their side of the line that George noticed on the ground. (Perhaps the line marked the extent of how far George could move while chained?)

The doctor gingerly opened the door and ushered another person into the room. George didn’t dare look up to see the person who was being lead into the room, but judging by how light their footsteps were, he could assume that the person was either a child or very light on their feet.

“So,” the same doctor said, “here we have a villain who the government was so gracious to lend to our cause. Doctor W-… sorry, the other doctor and I are going to leave the room and will deliver further instructions through intercom.”

The doctor opened the door again and held the door for the second, and then they both left the room. George heard the lock click behind the pair.

After the door was shut and George could be sure the doctors were gone, he dared to steal an upwards glance.

Sitting on the ground in front of him was a little girl who couldn’t have been older than 13. She had short strawberry blonde hair and a cut on her forehead that was dripping blood down her face.

Her arms and legs were dotted with bruises, and she was malnourished and thin. In that sense, she looked a lot like the children who George shared the cell with.

Her hands were cuffed together and she shared the look of submissive fear that George was all too used to.

“S-sir?” she peeped, and George cringed at the title. He really hoped she didn’t think he was one of the doctors, or recognize him from when he had been famous.

“C-can I leave now?”

So she believed the former, to some extent.

“Sorry,” he whispered, realizing that his throat was dry and he was losing his voice, so he couldn’t talk any louder then he was. “It’s… not up to me. I’m just as trapped as you are, if that’s any consolation…?”

Upon George’s statement, the girl looked up from her feet and stared George right in the face.

“You’re Georgenotfound.”

Fuck.

“Yeah…”

“No, no, I- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I just… know all about you.”

George didn’t respond. He hadn’t interacted with any of the people that he had been forced to use his power on, so knowing that one of them recognized him was shocking and really sucked.

It was embarrassing. George felt like one of those ‘fallen stars’ in those stupid magazines that made fun of famous people. He wasn’t even considered a person anymore, let alone one of the most beloved people in the county.

“I… uh,” the girl continued, “okay, before th-the doctors get to their intercom room, I’ve gotta let you know something. So, um, you heard the doctors say I’m a villain?”

George nodded.

“Okay, well, there’s… there WAS a small group of… villains I guess, and we didn’t agree with all the anti-OP sentiment. We tried to win people over to the cause and no one listened. It was like they all were sheep, coerced into believing you were all inherently evil!

“And, oh, Prime, I don’t wanna give you false hope, when I say small group, I mean there were like seven of us. We didn’t have any plans to do anything big, we just wanted to have people understand that you weren’t a poison upon society, or whatever that government guy calls it.

“But, somehow, the government found out about our little group. All seven of us were arrested. I know that, uh, four of us died in the police station, the cops beat ‘em to death. Then these fricking lab coat people came to the holding cell we were at and offered the cops to take us off their hands.

“So us three were taken and knocked out and now I’m here and in the presence of THE GEORGENOTFOUND and let me tell you I’m like one of the only people who still think you’re a good person, oh my Prime, and I’d never like, try and break you out, but MEETING YOU is just-“

“ Prepare for instruction for this experiment, ” the loudspeaker crackled, and George watched as the girl before him stopped talking, and her entire demeanor flipped so quickly and drastically that George couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“ Two, prepare to use your power. ”

“Hey,” George said, feeling extremely awkward. “I hope you don’t mind, but-“

“George, don’t use your fucking power on me. I will actually fucking hurt you. I’m not a sugary sweet Gogy stan.”

Okay, her personality flipped as well. But, George couldn’t bring himself to violate her like that, especially upon knowing that she cared. Even though she had said not to get any hope of being free, the idea that even one person didn’t think he was a horrible mistake of nature gave George hope anyway.

“Oh- s- okay- sorry” he stuttered, and then he cursed himself for sounding so submissive and scared. She would think that he just obeyed whomever had a louder voice or scarier threat.

Did he?

“No- no no no oh Prime, Gog- George I’m really sorry, I bet you’ve… oh you’ve been through a lot, huh? I didn’t mean to take that tone either you- ahhh, you sounded so scared, I’m really so sorry! I-“

“You’re okay,” he whispered, still unable to raise his voice to a normal level.

“N-n-no what I meant was that you shouldn’t just do what they say? Why should you?”

“Because-“

“ Two, if you don’t comply in the next five seconds, we would like to remind you that we currently have Three and Seven in their respective experiments and if you aren’t well behaved, we’ll take it out on them. ”

George, upon being cut off and the question having been answered, looked down and tried to hide his embarrassed expression.

“They’ve figured out that we only have one thing left that can make us obey,” George explained, “and it’s each other. We haven’t really got any self-preservation between us, but we, uh, always try to keep each other safe. So if I don’t comply, Purpled and Dream will pay. An unfair price, might I add.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, her mood changing yet again. “Yeah, you can use the power on me.”

She looked up and stared George right in the eyes, unblinking.

“ Now that you’re ready, be prepared to follow instructions exactly and with haste. Maintain eye contact with the criminal at all times, if you break it, there will be consequences. ”

George gulped and continued to look the child in the eyes.

“ Listen carefully. Activate your power and sap all of the energy and stamina from the subject without putting her to sleep. Continue this process until we command you to stop. ”

George mouthed ‘sorry’ and then activated his power. Immediately, the girl began slumping over, losing all her energy while still never breaking her stare with George.

George waited for the intercom to command him to stop but the order did not come.

The girl began gasping, out of pain or for breath, George wasn’t sure.

And he felt the pain too. He- he couldn't breathe. He genuinely couldn't breathe. The air refused to work its way into his throat.

Was he panicking or was he accidentally using his power on himself? Regardless of why he was panicking, he forced himself to calm and watched as the child began to convulse in agony on the ground.

“STOP!” she gasped, “PLEASE- st- stop- hhhh…”

George tore his eyes away from the girl, not thinking about the consequences.

“ We didn’t tell you to fucking stop. Don’t be selfish, keep going. ”

“N-no,” George whispered, “no, no- no it’s killing her!”

“ That’s the damn point. They’re already suffering because of you, Two. You’re not being good! Make the choice, their lives, or the life of this criminal. ”

“Y-you need them alive, though. I ca-“

“ WE DON’T NEED ANY OF YOU ALIVE! YOU ONLY EXIST BECAUSE IT PLEASES US, BUT NEVER ONCE HAS IT BEEN DEEMED NECESSARY! BE OBEDIENT, OR THEIR BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS! ”

Shaking and holding back sobs, George walked towards the girl on the ground and attempted to approach her when the chains yanked him back to place.

The girl stared up at him with watery eyes, but her fighting and thrashing had stopped.

From across the hall, George heard a horrible, pained scream. Dream. Was he-? He was being tortured because of George.

George took a deep breath and stared at the child before him, sucking the last of her life out from her. She gagged and coughed up blood, then exhaled for the final time and the screaming stopped, and George collapsed into sobs.

He’d never killed anyone before.

“ They’re all broken and weak, it’s really funny, not gonna lie. Oh, the intercom, f- “

This was just a job, just something simple and normal for these people. And George had killed a child today.

Like the coward he had proven himself to be, he used his power on himself and forced himself to sleep, hoping he would pass away before he woke up.

—————-

“George?”

George sat up with a start, and the experience of waking up with such a jolt brought the whole experiment crashing back into his mind.

George winced and then yelled at himself for looking like such a coward. He was supposed to be an adult.

“Hey, George, are you okay?”

George turned to look at the person who was speaking and was relieved to see it was his best friend.

“Oh Dream,” he said, “sorry, I just-“

George stopped talking when he saw the huge bruise covering most of Dream’s face, and that he had two black eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” George breathed. “I- I did this to you.”

Dream tilted his head to the side, and then winced when moving his head sent pain throbbing through his temple. “N-no? Why is this your fault?”

“I- I didn’t obey the doctors, they… they said they’d punish you and then I heard you scream… they made me… k-kill this little girl.”

“You too, huh?”

Now it was George’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

“I- uh… had to kill someone too. Mine was a lot less of a choice, though. I was trapped in this room with this big scary tough guy, and when the intercom commanded me to… possess him, the guy didn’t want that to happen.

“He- he ripped off my prosthetic and he was beating me senseless, and I had to fight so hard just to escape his grasp! And I guess I’ve gotten a lot smaller, and weaker. But finally I was able to get my arm and possess the guy, and the doctors… ordered me to have him commit suicide. To- uh, see if I would die too. I didn’t! I didn’t die. It felt like I did, I felt the pain, I stabbed myself, or him I guess, right in the gut. Now it’s just phantom pains… but it sucks.”

“Oh.”

“But yeah, not your fault. My left eye’s really swollen, though. I can barely see, my vision’s all blurry and my head is pounding.”

“I’m sorry,” George replied. “Oh, but, the little girl I ki-… the uh, little girl, she told me that she DIDN’T believe we were nature’s greatest mistakes that need to be wiped off the face of the earth. She- umm, actually thought we were cool. That’s why she… that’s why she said that she and a few others were brought here. To die, I guess. I had hope that some people might care, but I guess we’ll be forced to kill anyone who does.”

“I’m really starting to believe we are mistakes. That all the bad things are true. Why else would this even happen? It can’t be that some unnamed bad guy just doesn’t like us. This isn’t a movie, people have motives and morals. There’s real reasons why we endure this shit and I just…”

“You’re losing hope?” George finished, and Dream nodded. “Yeah, whenever I get a single spark it gets extinguished immediately. It’s hard to keep going, I guess.”

The pair sat in silence on George’s bed and let the deep conversation sink in.

“Y’know,” Dream said, “we kinda suck at conversation. I mean, it’s all like… situational conversation. It’s like those adults who always talk about work or when kids only talk about school and tests or whatever. I mean, it’s not bad… or as if we have anything else to talk about…”

“Yeah. But Dream, you sound just like the kids with your ‘oh we have nothing to do! We are so bored and need entertainment’ and everything.”

Just then, Dream grinned mischievously and George felt a dreadful chill creep through him. “Hehe, I have something we could do,” Dream snickered, and George just thought about the fact that Dream just unironically said ‘hehe’.

“We could…” Dream paused for dramatic effect, “ kiss? ”

If George had water in his mouth he would have spat it out. “DREAM!” he shouted.

Dream keeled over laughing, “I’M KIDDING, I’M KIDDING, OH PRIME YOUR FACE, THAT WAS-“

“Dang it!” a high pitched voice from outside the room shrieked.

George stood up and walked over to the source of the noise. He turned the corner and found Niki, Wilbur and Techno crouched at the door, listening in on the conversation.

“What are you three doing?” George demanded.

“We- uhh…” Niki started, but she couldn’t finish the statement because she began to giggle so much that she couldn’t force a word out.

“Niki and Wilbur had a bet going of which of you two would come onto the other first. Niki bet you’d ask Dream out first, now she owes Wilbur… what was it? I don’t even remember,” Techno stated.

Get off your high horse Techno, Wilbur signed, you were in on the bet too, you owe me as well! I won’t forget that you and Niki ganged up on me, with no faith in Dream’s game whatsoever!

“Okay, sorry, what?” George asked. “How many people were betting on Dream and I dating? Also- we’re not dating!”

“Uhhhh,” Techno responded, “Me, Wil, Niki… Bad was in on it, uhh… Phil entertained the idea but didn’t make a bet… oh, Purpled, he was in on it too, he didn’t bet either though, but he’s the only one of the six kids who knew what a romantic relationship really was… uh-“

“S-sorry, what?” George interrupted. “First of all, WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL? Please just… don’t do that? But also do you mean to say that the kids DON’T KNOW WHAT A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP… EVEN IS?”

Purpled does, Wilbur told him. Upon hearing George’s raised voice, Dream got up off the bed and came over.

“What’s going on?”

“Dream, they’re- they’re gambling on us, our relationship! They-“

“But, we don’t have a relationship? Unless…”

“NO. NO NO NO DREAM that’s not the point, and also not even that, but apparently all the kids except for Purpled haven’t heard of dating or anything? Which is confusing because realistically at least ONE of them had to have parents.”

“We can teach them? I guess? It doesn’t have to be… the sex talk… just like, what it means to date someone?”

“Yeah,” Techno said, “that’s on you two. Not only will they not take the three of us seriously, I’m not going to explain dating to a bunch of twelve year olds.”

“THIRTEEN!” Tommy yelled from across the room. “I’M A BIG MAN! NOT A CHILD!”

“Wait, Tommy, did you hear that whole conversation?” Dream inquired.

“No, why? Were you talking about me? I just heard some BLASPHEMY against me and needed to stop it in its tracks.”

“Tommy,” Niki said, “do you know what blasphemy means?”

“…no,” he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s like- it’s being disrespectful to a god, it’s sacrilegious? You basically insinuated that you’re a god.”

“Prime fears me,” Tommy told them, and then he went back to playing Marco Polo with the other kids.

“Sure,” Dream amended, “George and I can teach them. But we’re not explaining reproduction!”

George giggled but the back of his mind swarmed with negative thoughts.

The kids will never need to know what reproduction is.

They’ll die before they get out of here.

They’ll never grow up.

Mistakes shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce.

We’d risk making more of us.

We’re diseased.

George shook his head in hopes to dissolve the intruders in his brain and followed Dream over to where the children were playing.

“Guys,” Dream said, “hey, George and I are gonna-“ Dream was cut off by Purpled running straight at him and tagging him.

“Ha! Dream, I got you!” Purpled shrieked.

“I’m not even playing,” Dream scolded. Purpled’s face fell into a frown.

“Why are you here then?” he asked Dream.

“Well, Techno said that you guys didn’t know what a relationship was, and-“

“Oh, no, I am not staying for this talk. I’ve heard the whole thing, my school had us listen to this whole lecture about the birds and bees and all the hot sex they’re having, I’m not-“

“LANGUAGE!” Bad shouted.

“Bad you’re not even a part of this conversation! How do you always know when someone’s language isn’t G-rated from across the room?” Purpled shot back, and then he continued. “But if you’re teaching these guys any of this stuff, I’m gonna go. Actually, I’m gonna use this time to get some much needed sleep. George, if you don’t mind.”

George nodded and followed Purpled over to the kids’ room. But, when Purpled hopped into his bunk and stared into the air, waiting for George to lock eyes with him, all George could think of was how he had killed that girl just a few hours ago.

George’s breath started to quicken and he stumbled backwards.

“Gogy, are you okay?” Purpled asked. “I hear you breathing fast.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Could you look downwards a little more? I need to be able to look you in the eyes.”

Purpled listened and turned his gaze towards George’s. George stepped to the left a bit to meet the boy’s stare, and then pushed him into slumber with his power.

George swallowed hard and grabbed Purpled’s wrist to quickly check his pulse. Okay, he’s fine. And somehow, George’s power still worked on the child despite Purpled’s inability to see. George didn’t really know how his power worked, or what he could do. He was sure the doctors knew, though.

“Gogyyyyy!” Tommy beckoned from the main room. “Get over here, Dream said you guys are gonna tell us something.”

This was a horrible idea. Too late to back out now, though.

When George made it over to where Dream had the five children sitting down on the ground at his feet as if he were a kindergarten teacher, he sighed and knew this would not be a good way to spend his time.

“So,” George started, “Techno told us that you guys didn’t know… what dating was?”

“No! He lied, we know!” Tubbo exclaimed. “It’s… you know, when you have…”

“No, Tubbo, you imbecile,” Tommy reprimanded, “dating is what you do when you’re getting married but you’re not yet, my mum was always going on about when she dated my dad.”

“No! Dating is when you…” Sapnap interjected, “well, my cousin had a girlfriend and they were always kissing, so is it that?”

Ranboo and Karl exchanged a glance that showed that they had no idea what was going on.

“Okay,” Dream said, “none of you are wrong, per say. When you date someone, you care about them very much. But it’s more than just a friendship, you’re… attracted to them. You don’t necessarily have to marry them, you can date for however long, and you don’t need to get married, or you can break up with them.

“Also, kissing is another thing that people who are dating sometimes do, but… I’m not going to go over all of that. So your… uh, significant other, they can be a boyfriend or a girlfriend if you want, it just comes in a myriad of forms. I guess it’s just something you should know… exists?”

“Any questions?” George concluded, feeling glad that he didn’t have to explain anything. Anyways, Dream did a nice job.

“Yeah, I… have a couple,” Ranboo said, “uh, what is marriage? And attraction? And kissing?”

“Oh!” Sapnap exclaimed, “I can tell you what kissing is, it’s this gross thing where two people look like they’re eating each other’s mouths, and-“

“Okay, Sapnap,” Dream interrupted, “but yeah, it’s… that. You don’t have to kiss people if you don’t want to, some people just like it.”

George saw Dream’s ears going red and knew he was mildly uncomfortable and was not having a good time. George smiled at the prospect of Dream being embarrassed to talk about relationships, and then scolded himself for making fun of Dream in such a way, even if it was internally.

“And marriage is the union of two people who love each other very much,” George summarized, “and those people normally proceed to live together.”

“So!” Dream said while clapping his hands together. “All set then? You understand?”

“I guess,” Tubbo responded.

As George walked away, he saw Karl in the corner of his eye signing, I still don’t really understand.

George shook his head, grinning, and was about to turn back over to the children when he noticed all of them signing too, and he assumed that they were explaining to Karl.

That whole conversation was the most awkward thing, anyway, so George decided not to go back over there.

“Proceed behind the cell doors of the bedroom if you wish to receive food,” the guard suddenly ordered, and George walked over to his bedroom on autopilot.

Dream and Phil were already in the room when George entered.

“So,” Phil said, “Techno said you two gave the kids… a talk about dating?”

“It’s- it’s not what you think. None of them had heard of dating, and we thought it was important for them to know what it entails because they’re like- ten to thirteen? And I’m honestly not sure how they didn’t know, but we told them,” George replied.

“No, I know, mate. I was just meaning to say… good job. Like, that was mature of you guys, especially since the concept stemmed from you finding out that we- THEY were betting on you two dating.”

The metal bars clanged shut and Bad sat down on his bed, having just entered the room.

“George,” Bad began, “I’m just letting you know that because of you, I owe Wilbur my bread today.”

“WHY IS THAT MY FAULT? YOU’RE THE ONE WHO WAS GAMBLING THAT I WOULD ASK DREAM OUT!”

Bad shrugged. “You just seem more affectionate, I guess.”

“I didn’t even ask him out!” Dream added. “I just joked about… kissing him- BUT we’re not dating!”

“Either way,” Phil said, “Bad, Techno, and Niki owe Wil and I some bread.” Phil’s face twisted into a smug smile.

“NO, NO PHIL!” Bad yelled, “You cannot say you’re ‘not a part of the betting’ and only officialize your bet when it’s clear you win! Wil and Wil alone gets the bread.”

“NO ONE GETS ANYONE’S BREAD! YOU ALL NEED BREAD TO LIVE! AND DON’T GAMBLE OVER DREAM AND I DATING! BECAUSE WE’RE NOT!”

Then the bars slid back open and Wilbur ran out from his room and grabbed one of four loaves and took it entirely for himself with a huge grin on his face.

“Wil!” Tommy exclaimed, “Why do you get a whole loaf?”

Wilbur put the bread loaf in his mouth and held it there so he could sign.

I won a bet! Niki and Techno and Bad all owe their bread to me!

“I thought Phil said no gambling!” Tommy whined, but Wilbur had already taken a big bite of the bread, and Niki shrugged.

Wilbur frowned and ripped a chunk of his bread and tossed it to Niki, and then did the same for Techno.

“Are you gonna give any to Bad?” Techno asked, his mouth full with the piece that he had shoved entirely into his mouth.

Wilbur grinned and shook his head no. Techno scoffed and reciprocated the grin.

Over at the circle that Tubbo, Tommy, Karl, Sapnap and Ranboo had formed, an entirely different conversation was going on.

“So, Ranboo,” Tubbo announced, “I was thinking about Dream and Gogy’s whole dating concept, and I had an idea. Dream said that you date someone who you care about more than a friend, so do you wanna date?”

“Sure!” Ranboo blushed, sharing Tubbo’s lack of understanding of what ‘more than friends’ meant.

Oh, Tubbo, good idea! Sapnap, can we D-A-T-E, please? Karl asked.

Yeah, sure! Sapnap responded.

“Hey wait, who’s gonna date me? That’s not fair!” Tommy complained.

“I dunno,” Tubbo said, “ask Purpled?”

“Ah, but Tubbo! You- you’re my best friend! Why won’t you date me?”

“I dunno, Ranboo’s just nicer.”

At the mention of his name, Ranboo hugged his knees tighter and smiled awkwardly.

“Fuck you! Both- all of you! You all suck! I’m gonna find the hottest date ever!” Tommy yelled, and then he shoved his bread portion into his mouth and stormed off.

“Don’t listen to him, Karl, you’re perfect,” Sapnap said with an adoring look on his face. Karl did one of his silent giggles and he rested his head on Sapnap’s shoulder.

You’re very good at this dating thing!

Yes, I know.

Tommy, on the other hand, was not having a good time. He was very jealous that he didn’t get to date someone. He didn’t even really understand what dating meant (none of them did) but that wouldn’t stop him from acquiring a lover.

He felt hurt that no one chose him.

“I’ll show them,” he muttered to himself.

Then the perfect idea came to Tommy’s mind. It would take some planning, but it would be perfect.

George and Dream were oblivious to the chaos that was ensuing because of their attempt at education.

When George heard Tommy yell, he decided to approach the children to ask what happened.

“Is Tommy okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s just jealous of us,” Sapnap said, “because of how hot our boyfriends are and how lonely he is.”

“W-what?” George sputtered.

“Doesn’t hot mean warm?” Ranboo whispered to Tubbo.

“Yes, but it also means pretty,” Tubbo whispered back.

“Yeah, Gogy, we decided that we would date because me and Karl and also Tubbo and Ranboo are closer than just friends and so-“

“No, uh, that’s not what dating means,” George told the child. Just then, Tommy ran back over to the group.

“Guys!” Tommy blurted, “I have a super hot fucking sexy ass girlfriend now! Her name is Clementine and she is beautiful and she loves me very much and she is a very hot woman!”

“Where is she?” Tubbo asked. “I was worried for a sec when you said ‘girlfriend’ that you meant Niki, as she’s the only girl here, but-“

“No! It’s not Niki! I said, her name is Clementine!”

“You say Clementine really weirdly, Tommy,” Sapnap commented, and the others nodded their heads in agreement. “And yeah, Tubbo’s right, how’d you get this… Clementine?”

“She’s been here this entire time,” Tommy lied, “sh- her… her power is being invisible and she-“

“Lies. Utter lies,” Tubbo interrupted. “If Clementine were real, and she could go invisible, why didn’t her power get disabled? And why hasn’t she ever said anything? And why doesn’t she have a number or ever get experimented on?”

“Uh- um, uh…” Tommy sputtered, “fine! She’s imaginary.”

George was in a state of mild shock watching these events unfold. There was a reason he wasn’t a teacher, apparently, and that was that he sucked at teaching. How had he fucked up explaining so badly that this had all unfolded?

“Tommy,” George said, “you don’t need to have someone to date. And all of you guys… I mean, you can date, but I think you’ve misinterpreted us and started… platonically dating. Yeah, that’s a good word for it.”

“What does that mean?” Ranboo asked.

“It’s not really a real thing, I don’t think,” George answered, “not that I’ve heard of anyway, but… it’s a term I’ve just invented. It’s when you have a very close best friend and you act as if you are dating, I guess? Because… I’m going to make a guess that you guys… oh Prime I give up.”

“I just kinda felt left out,” Tommy grumbled.

We’re sorry, Tommy, Karl signed, we can… what was it called?

“Break up,” Sapnap finished for Karl, “we can break up if it’ll make you less sad.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Just promise you won’t hate me? That we can still all be best friends?”

“Yeah! Of course!” Ranboo said. “We’re all best friends.”

Just then, Purpled groggily walked over, having just woken up.

“What’s going on?” he muttered.

“Me and Ranboo are dating now, so are Sap and Karl,” Tubbo answered, “and hey, you can date Tommy if you want!”

Purpled blinked twice, with a look of shock painted on his face, and then he said, “no, I- I don’t like Tommy.”

“YOU WHAT? FUCK YOU, WHY DON’T YOU LIKE ME?” Tommy shouted.

“Hey- I don’t even know what you look like, please don’t get offended. It’s nothing against you! I’m just- I’m not attracted to you!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Purpled proceeded to explain the entire concept of attraction and relationships, echoing the school-issued lecture he’d been given not so long ago.

Purpled’s five friends stared at him with wide eyes and George slowly backed away, as he didn’t want to be around when the children started to ask questions.

This was not George’s jurisdiction. That- Phil can do it, he’s everyone’s father figure. George had already had enough of an awkward day today.

When Purpled had finished his talk, Sapnap simply said, “So, do you wanna at least keep doing Gogy’s platonic dating?”

Karl nodded. Tubbo and Ranboo exchanged a glance and decided they would do the same.

George was glad to see that everyone took the talk well. It wasn’t that big of a deal, George realized. He was probably only feeling so embarrassed and awkward about the whole topic because it had stemmed from people shipping him and Dream.

Which honestly made him uncomfortable. And maybe Dream found it a little funny, but neither of them actually liked each other.

Overall, though, the kids’ platonic dating was just very wholesome. When a few hours had passed and Sapnap and Karl got sleepy and asked for George to put them to bed, Karl had offered to Sapnap that he could climb up into Karl’s bed and they could use both of their blankets and sleep right next to each other so that Sapnap wouldn’t get cold in the night.

And a short while after that, Tubbo had embraced Ranboo and comforted him when the taller boy had a panic attack. Tubbo had calmed him down and whispered kind words into his ear, and George later found out that Ranboo’s memory had acted up and Tubbo had just reminded Ranboo of everything until the memories came flooding back.

Sure, maybe Purpled had been the one to explain what love actually was, as a concept, but George felt a small sense of pride that he was the one to give the children the idea of their platonic dating. The feeling of joy in his gut was almost enough to drown out the memory that he had killed a child a short while ago.

Almost.

Chapter Text

“Hey, uh, can I tell you guys something?”

There was a chill in the air and Karl sat in his bed shivering slightly. He had given his blanket to Sapnap, who couldn’t produce heat on his own, but now Karl was cold. It was unknown to the prisoners whether it was actually nighttime, but it might as well have been, because all of the adults and older teens were fast asleep.

The six children sat in their respective beds and fought the urge to sleep, fighting to stay awake until George woke up and could deliver them safely into a nightmare-less slumber.

Tubbo’s sharp voice rang out through the room, penetrating the painful silence. Karl hated the silence, and welcomed Tubbo’s voice.

“Sure, Tubs, what’s up?” Tommy responded.

“Well,” Tubbo began, “I have something I wanna get off my chest. I already told Boo, but I just… being open made it all feel so much better, and I wanna break down the walls that we’ve all got up. And before I say anything, lemme just clarify that if you don’t wanna talk about your past, no pressure. I just felt amazing after finally being open about my trauma and… wanted to share the experience… I guess?

“So, uh, I was basically a… slave,” Tubbo said, the word sounding bitter and tentative, “for lack of a better word. For this villain syndicate- this drug cartel. They made me duplicate all the drugs and weapons and shit for years… also they killed my family. Yeah, I’m not gonna go into all the stories now… I’m not ready for that yet. But I- oh, I wasn’t really treated like a human being, I ate out of a dog bowl which was degrading as fuck, and…”

Tubbo continued to talk and explain his past, but his words resonated with Karl, and Karl zoned out upon hearing what he had said.

Why did the words…

Wh- why did he feel like he was suppressing tears?

And yet, another side of him, the self-deprecating side, the side that was always joking, that side was screaming at Karl.

Same.

Relatable.

How was this relatabl-

Oh. He remembered why. He had repressed his memories again. Being away from his normal time period did that to him sometimes. He never told anyone, he never complained.

Ranboo had it worse. Ranboo’s memory was much worse so Karl shouldn’t complain.

Sometimes Karl would be in the wrong time for too long and his memory would slip a bit.

Or sometimes… if he wasn’t good-

“Oh, Tubbo, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Sapnap whispered, his voice bringing Karl back to reality.

What had he been thinking about?

Oh well, must not have been important.

“Hey, I’m glad you felt safe to talk to us about it!” Purpled added.

“Yeah,” Tubbo responded, “it’s just really that I feel safe with you guys. You- you wouldn’t hurt me… and you can’t leave me like my family did. Or… I guess I left them? But regardless… none of us can really get killed here, it wouldn’t be allowed! So… we’re forever.”

Forever.

There was no going home, was there?

Did Karl even want to go home?

“Ugh,” Tommy groaned, “I’m just so bored and tired, and we can’t play because we’ll wake people up, and we can’t sleep because Gogy is sleeping! Why can’t we just wake him up?”

“That’d be mean,” Ranboo scolded in a soft voice, “anyways, you saw the bruises all over his limbs when he got back from an experiment earlier today. He needs some rest.”

“But Ranboooo,” Tommy whined, “he can just fall back asleep! He- that’s literally his power!”

“No, it’s not nice.”

Tommy grumbled in response but didn’t protest any further. Karl agreed with Tommy, he was really tired too.

In fact, maybe he could just close his eyes for a minute. He wouldn’t fall asleep, he would just…

————-

Karl was four years old and sitting outside of the burning orphanage. The flames were pretty. Karl liked the way they danced. The screaming ruined the perfection of the moment. It had been a while since Karl was this warm.

No.

His friends… his caretakers… none of them were able to get out. They must all still be trapped inside.

He was only outside because he was being punished.

A night sleeping in the cold winter air would set him straight. Keep his behavior good and his demeanor timid.

Karl spent more nights outside than not.

He had been lonely and isolated before.

Now that everyone was gone… who would care for him?

Karl ran. He felt numb, barren of any emotion. The tears streaking down his small face might have said otherwise.

Karl ran until he had no energy left. He hadn’t set the fire, but he knew who did and if anyone found out-

A police car drove up behind Karl. Karl picked up the speed and proceeded to trip over a small pebble on the road, causing him to land flat on his face.

And he was out cold.

The faint sensation of someone scooping his limp body off the ground and tossing him onto a (car?) seat wasn’t enough to bring Karl to consciousness.

A week passed and Karl was going to be put into the foster system. He didn’t want to.

The older kids in the orphanage had told Karl that he must fight being put in the system at all costs. He didn’t want to be passed from house to house. He wanted to be loved. Was that too much to ask?

Yes, far too much to ask. He was a selfish four year old boy. The odds that he would be adopted and cared for were slim to none. No one wanted kids, that’s why the orphanages were so full. People barely wanted their own children, let alone an outcast who had ran from the flames that consumed everyone who had ever payed Karl any mind.

He went in and out of houses for… two months? Names and faces blurred, and no one wanted him or kept him.

Then finally, after Karl was losing hope, becoming a broken child at such a young age, the universe showed mercy to him.

When he first arrived to his newest foster home, his immediate reaction was that the house before him was far too… small for someone who was a foster parent. Where would all the children sleep? In Karl’s previous homes, there had been up to fifteen other children. The home before him looked large enough for… maybe two?

Then the door swung open to reveal a woman with curly hair and a loving smile.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “you must be Karl!”

And she had welcomed him into her home. She had asked his permission to embrace him and he accepted, having been touch starved for such a long time.

He hadn’t felt this warm since-

The weeks flew by and Karl was happy. His foster parent introduced herself as Puffy, and she was a ray of sunshine. Karl’s life hadn’t been very happy, he just floated by, but when Puffy had taken him in, he began to finally live.

It was just Karl and Puffy and she truly cared.

Karl tried new foods. His favorite was mac and cheese, which Puffy made for dinner once a week. Those nights were Karl’s favorite.

Karl was allowed to buy clothes of his own, not the scarce garments that had been given to him as a ward of the state. Puffy took him to the mall and he discovered a world of color and style and beauty.

He loved all the colors. His favorite hoodie was a color block hoodie that was purple with a green swirl on it. Every day, he would wear vibrant and fun clothing, whatever made him smile.

He had enough food for the first time in his life. He was more than content. Life was perfect.

Weeks bled into months and Karl turned five.

Puffy still hadn’t given him up. She… truly loved him. It was on his fifth birthday that he called her Mom for the first time. She hadn’t officially adopted him, but it was as if they were mother and son.

And Karl’s turning five meant he was passing a milestone that every child had to discover at the same age.

He was required to be examined to see if he had a power.

“W-why do I have to go?”

“Karl, it’s mandatory! It’s not up to you, but I promise, it doesn’t hurt one bit. It didn’t even hurt when I was your age, and the technology has improved so much since then. It’s just really important that you know if you have a power!”

“I don’t wanna have one. You don’t,” Karl pouted. “Why don’t you? Why- why… why do people have them?”

“Well, you’ll learn everything in school once you start that, but people used to have powers for a while, and now humanity is… evolving to not have them anymore.”

Puffy purposely omitted the word ‘healing’ from her answer. She knew Karl would learn about the persecution and death that ensued due to powers when he was older. If ancient history couldn’t handle the simple diversity of race and sex, how could they handle powers?

The genetic alterations that were done on unborn fetuses were changing humanity for the better, removing powers from the table.

If Karl were genetically hers, he wouldn’t have to worry about having a power. He wasn’t hers, and she knew nothing about his birth parents. But, in case he did have a power, she would make it seem like a good thing.

“Okay, Karl, it’s time to go now, and you’re gonna be brave, okay? If you’re good, we can go out to dinner tonight.”

“Okay! Can I get mac and cheese?”

“You have that all the time at home! Don’t you want something special?”

Karl shook his head and grinned. “Mmm- no! I just like mac and cheese.”

And with that, they drove off to the doctors.

“Alright, so your… foster son, his name is Karl?” the secretary asked, and Puffy nodded. “Okay… your examination will be in five minutes. You can sit down over there and wait.”

The secretary gestured to a small waiting area with plushy chairs. Karl ran over and threw himself onto one of them, cozying up into a ball.

“Karl?” a doctor called out from across the room. “Follow me.”

Karl nervously looked over at Puffy, and Puffy gave him a reassuring smile. Karl closed his eyes and took a deep breath before scampering after the doctor. Puffy followed after him.

The doctor lead the two into a small examination suite with a machine up against the wall that looked like a torture chair to Karl.

“Oh no,” he whispered, “is that an electric chair? Am I gonna be murdered?”

The doctor let out a small chuckle. “No, sweetie, that’s the machine that’ll tell you your power! Now, since you’re very mature, I’m going to explain what I’m going to do and how this works before we do it.

“The machine is entirely painless and it will identify whether you have a power within a few seconds! And if you do have a power, we’ll find out what it is, even if the power is unprecedented! Then we’ll send you on your merry way. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Karl said, “what does unprecedented mean?”

The doctor released another menacing chuckle and replied, “Okay, let’s get you strapped up.”

She grabbed Karl on the shoulder and brought him over to the scary chair. Without letting him wiggle around, she strapped him to the chair and situated electrodes consisting of small metal discs with thin wires on his head.

“Does anything hurt?” the doctor asked.

“N-no,” he replied, shaky from nervousness.

“Aw, Karl, are you nervous? It’s okay, I promise it doesn’t hurt,” Puffy comforted.

“Yes, you’ll be fine. Unless you’ve got a power, am I right?” the doctor joked, much to Puffy’s dismay and anger, and Karl’s confusion intermingled with fear. “Not the right thing to say, okay. On that note… let’s get started!”

The doctor exhaled through her nose and pressed a button on the side of the machine. Karl shut his eyes as tight as he could, but he wasn’t in any pain. After a minute, his tight grip on his legs loosened and he tentatively opened his eyes.

What he saw was not what he was hoping to see. The doctor’s eyes were wide and she was slowly backing away from Karl and the chair. Puffy looked shocked, and possibly close to tears of both pride and sorrow.

“Is- is something wrong?” Karl stammered.

“How the fuck is this even a real thing?” the doctor whispered. “S-sorry, uh… let me unstrap you.”

She walked over to Karl and slowly took the wire contraption off Karl’s head and unstrapped him from the chair. She gently took his hand and helped him down.

“So, buddy,” she said awkwardly, “you’ve… you have a power.”

Karl’s face fell. “But- you said that was a bad thing! I don’t wanna! W- what is it?”

The doctor peeled her gaze away from the small boy and turned to talk to Puffy.

“This shouldn’t be possible. He- he shouldn’t be possible. There’s so many things wrong with time travel. If a time traveller can exist now, shouldn’t they have always existed? And the past can’t be changed, and the future hasn’t even happened yet, and-“

“I can time travel?” Karl shrieked. “Really? Oh, that’s so cool! Oh my gosh! H- how do I do it?”

The doctor stared at the ball of excitement before her with apprehension.

“I- I’m gonna go- or… you nee- you can go now. You’re all done! Have a good day!” The doctor ushered them out of the room and ran immediately to report what she had just found.

Karl stared up at his mother with wonder and joy. “Mom! Did you hear the doctor? I can time travel! Isn’t that awesome?”

Puffy was still in shock. The doctor was obviously reporting Karl to the government officials who kept track of powers. She was worried about what people would think of Karl’s world-changing power.

“Okay, are you ready for dinner?” Puffy asked, trying to keep her mind from spiraling.

“Yep! Then- when we get home, I’m gonna figure out how to time travel! It’s gonna be so cool!” Karl rambled. “I’m gonna go to all the time periods, ever single one! Oh- and when I go to school, I’ll do amazing on all my history tests!”

Karl beamed at his mother, and she tried to force a smile back. No- Karl would be fine.

Karl was really excited about his power, but he knew something was off. Puffy was acting happy and normal around him, but he saw how stressed she was when he wasn’t looking.

A week flew by and Karl still couldn’t figure out how to to time travel. He sat on his bed for hours, waiting for some sort of magic to take him to any point in history. Nothing happened. He started to get really discouraged and sad.

Puffy knew that it would be important for Karl to learn how to use his power, so she developed an idea to help.

“Karl, can you come in here please?”

Karl scampered out of his room and ran up to his mother.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice sweet and high pitched as ever.

“I decided to do some research on your power. I went to the city hall to look at the power records, but no one else had the power. You had the whole list all to yourself! So… I- uh, went to the library and found some books on time travelers. Uh, they’re fiction, though. They’re not true stories, but maybe they’ll help?

“I read them and put together a list of different ways the characters were able to travel. I’m not sure if any of them will work, but it’s always good to try.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Karl gasped. “I’m ready, l-let’s begin!”

“Okay, the first thing is that the character thought really hard about the time and place they wanted to go and they appeared there. Now, to be sure you’re safe if this works, I’ve found a time in history for you to try and go to. Here,” she said, handing him a paper with a date, location, and image from the time period.

“This was a peaceful and uneventful moment in history. Just make sure that whatever you do to get there, you use to get home. Oh, I hope this works.”

“I- I’m sorry, I already tried thinking really hard about places. I can try again, though!” he said, and he shut his eyes and thought as hard as he could, blocking out the world around him.

His eyes blinked open and he remained in his home, his foster mother looked down at him.

“Okay,” Puffy said, “we’ll try the next thing. One character would go back in time by rewinding a stop watch! I actually have one, it was my mother’s.”

Puffy reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver stop watch on a necklace chain. She placed it in Karl’s hands. “Here, try turning that dial backwards.”

Karl obeyed, but turning the watch did nothing. Puffy gave idea after idea, but nothing worked. Then, Puffy read the second to last idea on her list.

“Okay, here, this person said the time, date and place that they wanted to go, and they would appear there. Here, try reading off the paper I gave you!”

Karl stuttered his way through the words written on the page, as he had just learned the basics of reading, and immediately after he finished the last word on the paper, the world around him seemed to explode.

Strains of purple and green swirled through the air, and it felt as if Karl was in a silent void, and yet it felt so, so loud! He tried to scream but no sound escaped his mouth. He shut his eyes but the color swirls were so much more vibrant on his eyelids so he opened them again and waited for the colors to go away.

Finally, the color trickled away and Karl found himself laying on a grassy hill. He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding and tried to stand.

Unexpectedly, he was extremely exhausted and he collapsed under his weight, falling back down onto the grass.

Where was he? When was he?

His breath started to quicken and he was panicking.

Deep breaths. Calm down. How did he get here?

Karl cleared the fog in his mind and reached a sense of clarity. He just said a date and place… and now he had travelled there.

This must be how his power worked! He had figured it out! And now he just had to get home.

There was one problem with that.

Karl had forgotten what the date was. It must have been… the eighteenth? No, the nineteenth. He knew the year… and for his location, could he just say home?

He probably should have formulated a full plan before jumping a score of centuries back in time.

He coughed to clear his throat and said the date that he presumed was home.

And the colors arose again, flooding his vision. The vibrant swirls of purple and green overtook the world, but this time, Karl knew not to shut his eyes.

And it was over as soon as it began. Karl looked around and found that he was on the floor of his dining room. Despite being fatigued and possibly shaking, he was unharmed.

“KARL!” Puffy yelled and came running over, her face streaked with tears. “Oh, oh my gosh, you’re okay!”

Karl looked up at his mother, worried. Was something wrong?

“Oh, oh Karl,” she whispered, kneeling down besides him and covering her face in her hands. “You- you scared me. You were g- gone for a whole day! What happened? How long were you in the past?”

“Maybe… five minutes? I just- uh, forgot what day today was and I… maybe said the wrong date.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine! It was a little scary, but I’m really brave!” he responded, beaming.

Puffy scooped him up and carried him down the hall to his bedroom.

“It’s late, it’s past your bed time, so go to sleep now. Also, when you’re traveling, can you make sure to write down the date so you get back home right where you were? And maybe you should specify the time to be a few seconds after you left. I’m not sure how any of this works, and if you never travelled again, I’d know you were safe. But, if you need to, just… I don’t want you to accidentally meet yourself, that always ended bad for the travelers in the books.”

“Okay,” Karl agreed, and he tucked himself into his bed.

“Make sure you stay asleep all night, okay? You need ten whole hours, I’m not having you get up in the night again. You’re obviously tired from your big adventure, so don’t get up until you hear your alarm clock go off, okay?”

“Hmmmm… maybe.”

“Karl,” Puffy scolded, “promise me you won’t get up until your alarm sounds?”

“Fine, I promise.”

Karl would regret keeping his promise.

That night, Karl heard a noise that threatened to drag him from his slumber. A loud crack that resonated throughout the house. He heard faint screams and sobs.

That couldn’t be real. Karl would stay in bed just like his mom asked.

He heard thundering footsteps that got louder and louder as they seemed to be approaching his room. The screaming had ceased.

Karl felt a large hand cover his mouth and nose. Maybe he should wake up? But he can’t. He can’t even breathe, he’s being pulled under, he’s falling, he’s falling, he’s falling back aslee-

An infinity of darkness passes by. Karl can’t seem to wake up. The screams ring in his ears. Were they Puffy’s screams? And-

Oh! His alarm just went off! It must have been a nightmare!

Karl opens his eyes, hoping to find the comfort of his bedroom, when he is met with something far different.

It is just as dark with his eyes open as with them closed. He blinks a few times, hoping his eyes will adjust. Is he blind? Is this another dream?

Before his eyes can adjust to the darkness, Karl hears the gentle flicking of a light switch and a bright white light floods the room.

The room is entirely white and smells like a hospital. Karl isn’t laying on his bed at all, rather, he finds himself curled up in a ball on top of a thin fleece blanket that’s just as white as the rest of the room.

It is too late for Karl to react when he notices a door on the far side of the small room. The lock clicks and the door begins to open.

The sudden opening of the door caused him to shriek in fear. The previous feeling of fatigue was overridden by that of absolute panic. With all of the strength that he had left, he kicked himself backwards, pushing his aching body into the farthest corner of the room. He tugged in his legs, yet again trying to make himself as small as possible. He was less of a target that way. Harder to hit.

“Karl, calm down,” the person commanded, with a voice that was intended to sound sweet, but just sent chills running through Karl’s body. He was so scared.

Karl tried to ask what was going on, but his voice distorted into a half-choked sob, and he tucked his head back into his legs.

“Oh, you’re scared. I presumed this would happen. Don’t worry, you’re safe,” the person said. “I’m going to explain what happened, but if you’re not good… well…

“We’re not here to hurt you. But we might have to, just know that it’s for your own good!”

That didn’t sound right.

“Listen, Karl, your foster mother didn’t want you anymore. She gave you up, and we were kind enough to take you in! You should be grateful.”

Puffy wouldn’t give Karl up. Had these people really taken Karl and chosen to foster him? Why didn’t he remember that? Why was his mind screaming at him not to trust this person?

“My friends and I are scientists and historians. And if you behave, you’ll be able to help us! You’re going to travel for us, okay? But, since we’re so benevolent, it’s entirely up to you. Do you want to travel for us, Karl?”

Karl slowly tilted his head upwards, but he could barely make out the person’s form from all the water that swam in his eyes.

“N-no,” he stammered.

“Okay. I’ll try again tomorrow,” the person said, and Karl heard their footsteps leaving the room and the lock clicking behind them as the door shut.

Karl didn’t budge from his corner for the entirety of the time that the person was gone. He cried until he couldn’t produce tears anymore due to dehydration. He felt so small, fragile, and scared.

Finally, after what must have been a day but felt like a week, the door clicked back open.

“Karl, are you willing to travel for us today?”

Karl didn’t want to travel again. Puffy didn’t like it, she wanted him to be safe. Karl just wanted to be fed, and he wanted his mother’s warm embrace.

Karl shook his head and the person promptly left the room without a word.

Some time passed and the person returned again.

“It seems like I have to try a different tactic to convince you. Because, of course, this is entirely your choice. Okay, we’re all set up, come here, Karl.”

Karl didn’t budge from his position, mainly because he didn’t trust this person, but also because he wasn’t sure if he was able to move.

The person’s brow furrowed and they marched over to Karl and grabbed his arm. They yanked him to their side and dragged him over to where they had set up their device.

They tossed Karl to the ground at their feet and grabbed a metal rod.

They pressed it to Karl’s skin and-

A scream ripped through his already hoarse throat, and within seconds, he was thrashing and moving in his position, trying to get away from the object that was starting to melt his skin.

The heated metal rod on his skin gave such an overwhelming amount of pain that he couldn’t think about anything else.

“Karl.”

The voice rang out loud and clear through the pain.

“Do you want to help us?”

Karl just wanted the pain to stop. He whimpered and for a second, the person removed the metal from his skin.

He tried to speak, to tell the person that he would do anything in order to not feel that again, and to be fed and see Puffy and go home, but he couldn’t force himself to form any words.

His nails were digging into his palms so hard that little beads of blood were trickling down onto the white floor. The small amount of pain was the only thing keeping him awake and grounded.

“Y- y- yes- s” he choked out, and then he started to cough softly.

The person’s face twisted into a sick grin and they clapped their hands together.

“Great! I’m glad you’re being complacent. We’ll bring you some food in a bit, and once our technology and rules are ready, you’ll get to work!”

Karl released a small sob and couldn’t fight to keep himself awake any longer, so he drifted off to sleep.

Karl woke up to find four raw potatoes and some water by his side. He reached out with a shaky arm to grab them. Why was he trapped here?

Then, he realized something. He could escape!

He could just time travel to a different time, take a guess at a random date and hope for the best.

He attempted to open his mouth to say any time at all, but something prevented him from doing so. His hands flew to his face and found something cold and metallic covering it.

He was muzzled.

He clawed at the muzzle, fingers desperately searching for a clasp. There was none.

How had they known? How had they known that Karl needed to speak to travel? Were they preventing him from escaping, or just speaking in general? Had Puffy-

The march of time continued on. Karl received no more visitors, and the muzzle remained on.

But he had to eat. So he took little pieces of potato and squeezed them through the tight bars of the contraption on his face, pushing them though his lips. He couldn’t open his mouth enough to chew, so he would press the potato against the roof of his mouth with his tongue until he could swallow it without choking.

He was utterly trapped with his own thoughts. He spiraled, wondering what he had done to deserve this. The scientists must have observed his deterioration and decided to direct it the way they wanted, because finally, Karl received a visitor.

“Sit,” the scientist commanded, and Karl, who was already sitting in his corner, fought the urge to stand out of spite.

The scientist moved their hand out from behind their back and revealed what they were holding. A metal rod.

“I don’t want to use this, but you might force me to. That would be very mean of you, Karl, so just be good and no one will be hurt.”

An invisible pressure squeezed at his skull, urging him to be quiet. Deep inside his mind, an insistent thought reminded him of the muzzle strapped to his skull.

“Things work out better when you just listen, and do as you are told.”

No, Karl won’t obey them. He still doesn’t even know who they are, or where he is-

“If you’re obedient, you won’t get hurt.”

He won’t be… he won’t do it…

Karl dared to shoot a disgusted look at the scientist and immediately regretted it as the scientist pressed the heated metal rod to his arm.

He tried to scream but couldn’t open his mouth, and trying to open his mouth only increased the pain he was in.

“Tomorrow, you are going to travel for us.”

The scientist pressed the rod harder into his skin and Karl heard a sizzling noise as he detached from the world around him.

Things work out better when Karl just listens, and does as he is told. Karl knows this.

He would travel for the scientists. Maybe he could escape and never return, stay in the past forev-

“Behave.”

He would behave.

The scientist smiled and Karl tried to mimic the expression before the muzzle prevented the movement. He had made someone happy, he was helping! Was that… was he good?

No- no no no.. no no don’t- don’t give in-

Two more scientists came into the room some time later. It must be tomorrow now. The taller one held up a collar. He explained that the collar would keep Karl from misbehaving when he was traveling, as well as signal who owned him. Karl didn’t like the term ‘owned’, but he supposed it wasn’t wrong. He wanted to go home to Puffy.

The scientist fastened the collar around Karl’s neck. Then they proceeded to lead Karl out of the white room (finally he was free) and down a long corridor.

“Be funny if we had a leash for the collar,” one scientist whispered to the other, not intending for Karl to hear. He heard.

The scientists brought Karl into a room with lots of science equipment that Karl couldn’t put a name to. They told him that he was going to help recover and research parts of history that had been lost to time.

The tallest scientist handed Karl a scrap of paper with a date written on it and then gently peeled the muzzle from his face.

“Now remember, you can’t disobey us because of the collar, so don’t even try.”

Karl didn’t believe the scientists, how could a collar stop him from escaping? But to keep up the charade that he would stay there and obey, he nodded and kept his head down.

At that moment, he decided that he would live in the past forever, since this time period seemed to only have mean people. Karl missed Puffy. Had she abandoned him? Were the scientists telling the truth, did Puffy give him to them?

Maybe his power really was a bad thing, and she didn’t want to deal with him.

Nonetheless, he would escape.

He read the date and the bleeding swirls of purple and green flooded his vision yet again.

Karl felt a wave of nausea pass over him, and then his stomach dropped and he felt like he was falling, falling, fal-

Karl found himself dropped in a beautiful garden. Bees buzzed around him, pollinating the sea of colorful flowers, and birds flit through the air without a care in their minds.

Free from cages. Just like Karl was.

He tentatively reached to touch his face and sighed with relief when his hands touched his skin rather than the cold metal muzzle.

He was free!

Karl pushed himself up into a sitting position and further took in his surroundings. Flowers of every kind that he had ever seen and more sat in their respective beds in the garden.

He gazed beyond the garden to discover the vast stone walls that seemed to make up a glorious castle, with intricate architecture and details that rivaled the talent of Karl’s own time period.

Karl jumped onto his feet and grinned. He would gladly live here, if not in the castle, then in a nearby village where he could gaze upon it every day. This time, this world, could be Karl’s perfect utopia.

His home.

He ran through the garden until he spotted a berry plant in the corner of his eye. He remembered that over the past… Prime knows how long, he had only eaten four raw potatoes, and so he gladly helped himself to the berries.

He ripped handfuls of the berries from the bush, not caring that the bush had thorns and his hands were gushing blood. He gorged himself on the sweet berries, occasionally stopping to savor the sweet pearls of juice exploding in his mouth as he broke their skin with his teeth.

After a few moments of shoving food into his stomach that had grown used to next to no sustenance, he keeled over and threw the meal up all over the ground.

“Hey! What are you doing?” someone yelled from behind Karl, and Karl’s flight instinct kicked in and he ran.

He sprinted over planters and out of the garden, not stopping to grab any more food, another decision he worried he would come to regret later.

After he could no longer see the garden in the distance, Karl let himself collapse to the ground in exhaustion. He was now on the outskirts of a village, but luckily no one had seen his arrival.

Of all the things to still be holding, he noticed that he still clung to the sheet of instructions he had been given.

What did those scientists even expect him to do, anyway? He couldn’t even read very well, he was five!

Karl took in a sharp breath and forced himself to stand again. Perhaps he could make this village his home.

He walked down the dirt path and followed it until he was in the center of the village. He looked around, searching for somewhere he would go, when a woman approached him.

She must have seen his lost expression and decided to help him. Karl turned around to look at the person encroaching on his space and was immediately shocked.

It was Puffy!

“Mom?” he blurted, and then he ran over to the very confused woman who stood a few feet away.

“N-no, I’m sorry, I’m not your mother. Are you lost?”

Karl stumbled backwards, hurt. Was this a cruel joke?

“No- no I’m not lost! I just… Puffy please, stop j- joking, it’s not funny,” he pleaded, hoping that his foster mother would drop the act and hold him tight.

“Yeah, kid, I don’t know what to tell you. Did you hit your head?” She looked in disgust at Karl shaking and sobbing below her and scoffed. “Ohhh- kay. I- this isn’t my problem, I’m g- I’m leaving.”

She shot him another weird glance and then hastily walked away. Karl couldn’t stop himself from staring as she left. He couldn’t peel his eyes off of her betray-

It wasn’t Puffy. Karl was in the past, centuries ago. People probably didn’t even have powers yet over the course of evolution. Not that Karl would know for sure, he hadn’t learned about it in school yet.

Still, why did the woman resemble his foster mother so strongly?

Karl pushed the confusion from his mind and continued to wander the village. The sun was parading across the sky and Karl assumed there was only an hour left before it set. He hadn’t even been in this time for an hour yet, but if he planned to stay forever, he didn’t want to freeze on the first night.

He strolled past various cottages, and judged each of them by their exteriors, their ‘vibes’, he called it. When he spotted a house built in the same style as Puffy’s and Karl’s own home, save for the fact that this was cobblestone and far shabbier, Karl knew that the people in it would be kind enough to let him stay the night.

He just got that vibe from the house.

He nervously approached the front door and held up his fist to knock upon it when suddenly-

It feels as if Karl is being pinpricked all over his small body. He hears a small ‘bzzzt’ and his vision begins to swim with white dots that threaten to overtake his line of sight and consume him.

His muscles contract involuntary and he collapses to the ground. His head hits the stone cobble path and it feels like his brain shook inside his skull from the impact.

Now, little rainbow stars join the monotone spots in the cacophony of lights in his eyes.

He gently twitches and convulses upon the doorstep. His head is pounding and he can’t think straight and it hurts-

Karl can only make out on coherent thought amidst the crashing waves of pain.

Read the note.

Yes. He has to read the scrap of paper he was given, maybe the scientists know why this is happening. If it’s an effect of his traveling, the note will tell him everything.

The scientists know. They have to. They can help him.

His hands shaking, he slowly unfolds the paper that was clenched in his hands a few moments ago. Trying his best to read with accuracy, he begins to try and phonetically figure out what he’s been told.

“Karl,” he reads, stumbling over difficult words, “d- doc… doc- ooh… document the every- everyday life of the pea- peasants in this king… kingdom that will one day be set a… ab- abla… ablaze and- and lost to time.”

No, that’s not an answer, that’s an order.

Why won’t the pain subside? The needles dig deeper into his skin, and Karl could feel salty tears spring into his eyes, but refused to let them fall.

But there is more writing upon his paper.

“If you are in the p- past for too long, or if you try and e… esca- escape, not that a g- good boy such as you- your… yourself would ever do that,” he shuddered at the implications of the words, “your c- col… collar will act- activape- wait, no, activate. What we mean is, ev- every one hhh- hour, the collar will b- buzz you. And if you don’t c- come back, the s- sh- shock will be b… bigger every time.”

Oh. So the collar did prevent him from escaping forever. He wasn’t a scientist, but he didn’t really understand how the collar still worked despite not being in the same… plane of existence as those who operated it.

Although, he supposed that any simple mechanics, as long as they worked on their own, would be able to function any time.

Karl angrily crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it a foot in front of him. He curled into a ball and waited for the electric shocks to stop running through his body.

When the pain subsided, Karl jumped up and shrieked, running over to the discarded paper and grabbing it, clutching it close to his chest like a lifeline. Falling back onto the ground and returning to the fetal position, he rocked back and forth while squeezing the paper as tightly as he could.

It was his only way home. The only way to stop the pain.

He felt so much more conflicted than he wanted to. Half of his consciousness told him that he should be grateful to the scientists for giving him this safe way home and a life raft in the seas of pain.

The other half screamed that the scientists put him in this pain in the first place, and stole him from Puffy.

Karl couldn’t tell which of the opinions he agreed with, so he tried to drown out his thoughts by humming to himself.

He stared harder at the piece of paper, making sure he didn’t misread any key bits of information.

If he had messed up, he didn’t catch anything wrong.

Karl came to the decision that he would promptly peer into the lives of the people in this village and then he would travel home.

Or, not home. Where ever that room was where he was meant to go. It wasn’t his home.

Karl spent the next hour exploring the quaint town. He listened to conversations (and was hit by a woman’s shoe for eavesdropping), saw what was sold in the markets and for how much, and looked at the fashion of the time.

He didn’t really know what ‘peasant social life’ entailed as an instruction, so once he felt that he knew enough, he gathered his bearings and ran to the forest.

He didn’t make it far before the collar politely reminded him that he had to return by sending him convulsing on the ground with electric shocks.

It took him longer to recover, but once he was strong enough to stand, he felt a strange rush of adrenaline. Maybe the electricity?

In either case, Karl took what he could get and he used his newfound energy to continue his flight to the woods. He didn’t want any random villagers to see him manipulate the space-time continuum, after all.

After a good ten minutes of sprinting, Karl paused to take his breath and examine his location.

He was deep in the forest, and the canopy was so thick that he couldn’t see the sun. The leaves on the ground were slightly wet and stuck together, and the forest just gave off an overall uncomfortable vibe.

Suddenly, Karl heard a faint rustling among the leaves followed by a ‘peep!’. Karl whipped his head around and looked for the source of the sound. A small white dove was laying on the ground a few yards from Karl.

He treaded over the crunchy leaves (enjoying the noise that emerged from under his shoe upon each step) and kneeled down next to the bird. Upon closer examination, it was a young chick that wasn’t even old enough to learn how to fly.

Karl came to the conclusion that the bird was injured and alone, and that it had fallen from its nest.

Karl felt a creeping sense of dread wash over him. He wasn’t a veterinarian, if he tried to help the bird he would likely kill it. And the dove, stranded, fallen from what could have been greatness, caged and alone… it felt like a sleep-deprived fanfiction author was attempting to write a symbolic irony.

It was like the universe was mocking him.

To escape the looming feeling of death and despair that floated about the forest, Karl read the date on his paper that would bring him home (not home, just… the place he lives without a choice) and the swirls guided him back to his time period.

Everyone has a role in life that they tend to assume and fall into step playing every day. Karl spent the next few months traveling at the beck and call of the scientists, living on autopilot like an empty husk of a human being.

At least, when he was in his own time. When he was commanded to go to the past, he could be anyone and do anything as long as he got his job done.

He came to discover that the collar had a different setting for how often it activated depending on his mission. Sometimes, a year would go by before Karl felt the familiar electricity coursing through his body.

Karl never aged when he was in the past. He had no idea why, but he still seemed to be five despite having spent a score of years in the past. It was for the better, he decided.

The collar never ran out of energy or died. It was too thin to be battery powered, and no one ever took it off Karl to charge, so he had no idea how the honk it worked.

After a few months of time, (decades for the young traveller), Karl overheard a conversation between the scientists while they escorted him back to the small white room.

“Oh hey,” she whispered to the other scientist, “I was reading this book about physiology and it said that positive reenforcement works better than negative.”

“Yeah? So what?” the other asked.

“So… I was thinking that we can apply that here. Karl’s been lethargic lately,” she responded, and Karl perked up at the mention of his name. “And instead of… y’know… threatening to torture him, we can use a bit of a reward system? I- I know it might sound silly, but I feel bad torturing a six year old.”

Was Karl’s six birthday recently? It must have been. (What was his birthday, again?)

“Yeah, I mean, that’s a nice idea, I guess. What exactly are you thinking, though? When you say rewards? Like- we can’t just give him a candy bar every time he spends a year recording his life in a concentration camp or some medieval prison! That’s too much candy!” the second scientist joked. “But in all seriousness, ideas?”

“I was thinking- school?”

The scientist must have spoken to her boss or something, because she pulled through and Karl was told that he would be enrolled in a nearby private school as long as he followed a strict set of rules.

He broke down into happy sobbing and said he would do anything to go outside and make friends that he wouldn’t have to abandon forever.

“Listen carefully Karl, here are the rules. First, you cannot tell any of the students or staff about your traveling for us. They’ll try and use you Karl, they won’t be as nice as we are. Everyone will see you as an object, as means to an end.”

Karl didn’t react to the words, he merely accepted them as fact and continued to listen.

“You are not to draw too much attention to yourself. You cannot mention us, okay?”

Karl nodded, but he didn’t understand why the scientists were so insistent that Karl hid his home life from his future classmates.

“We’ll get you some new clothes to wear, different from your traveling uniform, but you still have to wear the collar. You don’t have to wear the muzzle, though, as long as we can be sure you won’t try and travel during school.”

It was definitely good that Karl wouldn’t have to wear the muzzle at school. Eating with it on would have been embarrassing. Would it? Karl hadn’t really been in a modern social situation before. Would the other kids think he was strange for having a power or wearing a collar? This strange feeling of anxiety wracked Karl’s mind as he lay on the ground wrapped in his blanket in his room.

He still didn’t have a bed, and the cold hard floor meant that he woke up sore every morning that he was in his time. He preferred when he was in the past and he could find comfort and friends. He could never get too close to anyone in the past, because he would have to leave them one day. But still, Karl naturally gravitated towards being awkwardly social and making friends.

He awoke a week later (three months to him) to a scientist telling him that it was the first day of school at the private academy he had been enrolled in and he would be allowed to attend. The scientist handed him a long sleeve rugby shirt (it was a hot day but the long sleeves would hide the mosaic of scars and bruises) that was a plain tan. Karl had grown to dislike the bright colors that reminded him of his travels, so he gladly adorned the plain shirt.

The scientist informed him that the tan collared shirt was his school uniform and he would have to wear solid black pants as well. The shirt’s collar didn’t go so far up as to cover Karl’s collar, much to his dismay.

Once he was dressed and ready, the scientist gave Karl a small smile and led him down what felt like miles of winding corridors until he was finally out of the building and being led into a elongated black vehicle that Karl couldn’t put a name to.

“What is this?” Karl dared to ask the scientist, hoping that she was one of the nicer ones and would tell him instead of hitting him for being disrespectful.

“It’s a smaller limo,” she responded nonchalantly, not bothering to even glance at the small child by her side.

The limo looked so big! Karl had seen cars before, but none such as the one before him. He couldn’t believe that the scientist would call it ‘smaller’!

The scientist gently placed her hand on Karl’s back and he tensed at her touch. She recoiled for a moment and then returned her hand to his upper back with a tougher grip. She gave him a slight shove and slammed the door once he was entirely in the back of the car.

Karl shakily strapped himself in and turned to peer out his window when he saw that the window was blacked out. Suddenly it felt like he was trapped again, like the walls were closing in. Something dark and terrible opened up inside Karl, a panic he couldn’t explain, something so intrinsic, so much a part of him that he couldn’t ignore it.

He took in rapid breaths of air and shut his eyes to block out the world around him.

He remembered a trick that a close friend from another time had told him (what was his name?) and he used it to calm down.

“One, t-two… three… four… five… six… se- seven… eight… t- nine, ten, eleven,” he counted, growing calmer with each number. After a moment, his breathing returned to normal and he tentatively opened his eyes.

He wasn’t trapped (the car was locked) and yet bad memories from horrible moments in history came flooding into his mind. This always happened when he was alone.

He had seen too much death and suffering.

The car door slowly opened.

“Okay Karl, have a good first day of school!” the scientist said, her demeanor far too bright and kind for Karl to feel at ease. He slid out of the car and before he could run up to the steps of the school, the scientist grabbed his collar and whispered harshly into his ear, “and remember to obey the rules.”

Karl nodded, his eyes wide and scared, and the scientist let him go and gave him a pat on the head.

“I’ll come pick you up at three!”

The scientist climbed back into the (smaller) limo and pulled out of the school parking lot. Karl stared up at the huge academy looming over him and took a sharp inhale.

He was a socializing master, he’d done it for decades! So why was he so nervous?

Karl jogged up the andesite stairs of the school and entered the next chapter of his life.

The next few weeks of school went as Karl should have expected. He didn’t expect any negativity, he was too pure and hopeful, but he should have known.

A few of his classmates pestered him as to why he had a dog collar on. He told them it wasn’t a dog collar (he would say it was a person collar but that sounds really weird) and they teased him. He scratched at it to try and get it off, and the collar delivered him a taunting little ‘bzzt’ as if tempt him to try and remove it.

Karl accepted that he couldn’t remove the collar, and one girl in his class stood up for him, saying it was a choker, not a collar.

“Ew, chokers are for girls!” one particularly brutish boy had shouted. Karl didn’t like the word ‘choker’ any better than ‘collar’, but he gave the girl a small smile of thanks for standing up for him.

She introduced herself as Hannah and the two became fast friends.

“Karl, you’re the only boy in this school who likes breaking gender norms,” she would tell him, and he would silently wonder what that meant.

Occasionally, Hannah would try to invite Karl over to her house, but he would immediately decline, because he seemed to recall not going over to friends’ houses being a rule.

Or even if it wasn’t, he had to travel after school every day. It just wouldn’t work.

A second problem Karl faced in school was the fact that he was one of the two people in his class who had a power. The children would ask him to travel but he would turn them down without giving a reason, following another of his rules. The students naturally held aversion towards him for this, but having a power granted a strong kinship between Karl and the other boy with a power, Quackity.

Quackity could manipulate various solid objects as if they were putty in his hands, reshaping things as he desired.

He was horrible at controlling it, though, and oftentimes bent his pencils and crayons into unrepairable squiggles.

Karl found Quackity’s lack of control endearing and liked to keep the objects that Quackity cried about having ruined.

While Karl loved hanging out with Hannah, Quackity quickly became his best friend. Quackity just… understood Karl! (Or, rather, the small bits of Karl that he allowed Quackity to see).

Despite the occasional mean remark from another student in his class, school was Karl’s happy place and he looked forwards to it, especially after a long month in another time.

When he had gone on a particularly long travel, he returned to school very sentimental and needy, having missed his friends so much.

Both Hannah and Quackity didn’t mind Karl curling up close to their sides while their teachers read to the class, and they would help Karl cover up his tears if he fell apart, and they never pressured him to explain what was wrong (and he never told them).

He was so grateful for them, and his thoughts ever night before falling asleep were of the fact that he finally had a home again, and that was being by his friends’ sides.

After all, Karl had come to decide that home wasn’t a place, but a feeling. He would never call his white room home, but Quackity and Hannah were.

Almost a year flew by of this same existence. Karl would wake up, attend school, time travel for mere hours to months on end, and then he would sleep.

Most of the students hated the private school schedule that only granted them one weekend day, but Karl was constantly happy to see his friends more.

Then Karl’s seventh birthday came around, and he was excited to celebrate with his friends at school! He hadn’t been aware of his sixth birthday on the day it passed, so he was absolutely ecstatic to have a seventh.

When the intern who Karl had thought was a scientist dropped him off at the curbside of the academy, Karl sprinted up the steps, bubbly and filled with glee.

“Karl! Happy birthday!” Hannah shouted as soon as Karl entered the classroom.

“Thank you!” Karl grinned.

“Yeah, now you’re seven like we are!” Quackity added excitedly, “What are you gonna do for your birthday party? If you don’t wanna go out somewhere big, we can just go to your house! Oh- I’ve never been, have you, Hannah?”

“No, I haven’t!” Hannah responded. “What do you want for your birthday, Karl? We’ll give it to you at the party!”

Taken aback by his friends’ enthusiasm at the notion of going to his house, Karl stuttered, “Uh- uh- I wasn’t- I didn’t think- I…”

“Okay, students, sit down, you can talk and play at snack time,” the teacher commanded, and Karl immediately shuffled over to his desk with his head down and his gaze on his feet.

All throughout the math lesson (they learned about how to find the perimeter of any quadrilateral), Karl could feel his two friends’ eyes burning into the back of his skull, but he didn’t dare steal a glance their way.

Then snack time arrived, the moment Karl had been dreading. Quackity ran over to the trio’s normal spot on the rug where the teacher would read to them and plopped down onto it.

He ripped open his bag of chips and beckoned Karl and Hannah over. Hannah skipped over and took out a small container of grapes, sitting down at Quackity’s side. She joined Quackity in summoning Karl, mimicking his motion and expression in such a manner that Karl couldn’t help but giggle.

Karl begrudgingly took his place as the third point in the triangle they formed and folded his legs.

“Karl…” Hannah began, “you don’t have to have a party or have us over if you don’t want to. We realize you don’t like having people at your house and that’s fine! We- we just got excited and wanted to celebrate with you! But, if you’ll at least let us know what present you want… I know that no one can turn down a gift!”

Hannah beamed at him and Karl halfheartedly reciprocated the expression. He wasn’t sure if there was a rule against getting gifts; he didn’t really have any possessions besides his clothes and his blanket.

He would ask the scientists if he was allowed to ask for…

Karl knew deep down that he wouldn’t be permitted to ask his friends to give him things. He would never be able to keep them, and he would likely be beat for such greediness.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate, but I don’t need anything! You don’t need to get me a present, being your friend is enough.”

“Oh Karl, that’s so fucking sappy,” Quackity teased, but both he and Hannah melted at Karl’s nice words.

Karl had successfully deflected the problem.

Or so he thought.

A few days passed with no mention of Karl’s birthday. Then, Hannah arrived at school one day with a small gift bag.

“Here! Karl, this is for you! Open it!” she prompted, shoving the bag into his hands and clasping them shut so he would be holding the bag up.

Karl was terrified of the backlash he would get for accepting the gift, but if he refused it, Hannah would get mad and might hurt him, or worse yet…

Stop being his friend.

And Karl was never one to disobey an order, he couldn’t! His internal monologue bickered yet again, obey Hannah or the scientists? Hannah told him to open the gift, yet he had been commanded not to take any!

Karl shoved the little bag back into Hannah’s hands and ran across the classroom to hide behind the bookshelf.

Hannah- she would never hurt Karl! But still, the seeds of doubt and fear grew in Karl’s head as he tucked himself into a ball and hoped Hannah wouldn’t pursue him.

Ever the good friend, Hannah came to comfort Karl, having no way to know that her approach was only increasing his fear.

“Karl?” she asked, peeking behind the shelf that was pushed slightly in front of the wall with just enough space for a small malnourished seven year old.

“No no no no no no no no no,” Karl begged in a low whisper, “p- please, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Oh Prime Karl, are you okay? Do you need something? I- I can get the teacher, or do you want a hug maybe?”

“N- no, I’m so sorry, the- th- the- the gift- I-“ Karl sobbed, unable to continue his plea as he started to hyperventilate.

“Oh, the gift? Here, I have it right here,” Hannah said, misinterpreting what Karl wanted. She ruffled inside the bag and pulled out a small vial of black nail polish and held it up for Karl to see. “See? Look- I got you a nail polish! You always said you liked mine, and you don’t mind things that people consider girly, so… I got you this and I think you’ll look great! It’s okay if you don’t want it, but I hoped you’d like it!”

She stared at Karl, waiting for his reaction, but Karl’s head stayed in between his knees.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone,” Hannah concluded, trying to sound nice but coming across cold. At her accidental infliction in tone, Karl flinched and proceeded to sob harder.

Hannah lent Karl a worried glance but kept her word and let him be, walking away.

She probably went to go find Quackity to tell him how mean Karl had been. They were gonna hit him, weren’t they? He’d been so disobedient! Why couldn’t he do anything right, especially for the two people who mattered most to him?

But no one came. Hannah and Quackity never came. An hour went by and finally, Karl’s sobs subsided. Out of pure fear, Karl remained behind the bookshelf, and still no one came.

Then Karl heard footsteps increasing in volume as he could only assume that people were nearing his position.

“Karl, buddy, we’re going home.”

Karl nervously looked up and stared into the calm, kind face of one of the interns who often drove Karl to school. The intern’s eyes told a different story however, one that said ‘Karl, you’ve been very disobedient and we’re very mad and you’ll be punished severely’.

Karl broke back down into sobs as the intern picked him up.

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m his babysitter, I’m going to bring him home now to his guardians,” the intern told Karl’s teacher.

The teacher, who was obviously poor-equipped to deal with an emotionally fragile child in tears, allowed the intern to take Karl without any checking of identification.

As soon as the intern and Karl were out of the school, the intern aggressively threw Karl into the backseat of the limo and screamed at him.

“HOW DARE YOU! YOU FUCKIN-“

The intern slammed the door shut and a moment later, the car jolted slightly as it began to move. Karl knew he should be terrified and in shambles, but at this point, he just felt numb.

After that incident, Karl wasn’t allowed to go back to school for a semester. He hadn’t been good, after all.

And it may have just been coincidence, but those few months were years of absolute hell for Karl in his travels. It seemed like the scientists were giving him particularly hard assignments just to spite him, to punish him.

Karl had just made it back from a war that he had somehow found himself fighting in, (wars didn’t draft seven year olds normally, but still he was given a musket and told to shoot) and he had a wound from where a bullet had grazed him on his arm. He could barely force out the date to get back to his time, and now that he was back, he was crying on the familiar white tile floors.

“Karl,” one of the scientist commended, “nice job! You’ve been very good lately, so we’re gonna clean up your wound and let you go to bed early. Best of all- tomorrow you can go back to school!”

They splashed alcohol on his arm and it burnt so badly, it felt like just another punishment for a wrongdoing he could hardly remember, but then the stinging subsided. Karl was gently placed on the floor of his room (muzzled) and he crawled over to his blanket and burrowed within in.

He drifted off to sleep, finally getting to close his eyes without hearing the horrors of war all around him for the first time in a month. Or a few minutes, as the scientists would have seen it.

He had a fitful sleep, flashes of painful memories plaguing his consciousness. For a while, there was no solace in waking up. But as Karl heard his door click and creak open, he stirred and knew that he would finally see his friends again.

“Oh! I’m awake!” he giggled, throwing his blanket to the other side of the room. The mean intern gave him an exasperated look and then tossed his school uniform on the ground and turned to leave so he could change.

Karl pulled the familiar tan polo over his head and once he was fully dressed, he ran to the door so he’d be able to have the intern escort him to the car and bring him to school.

The door, however, was locked. From the outside, as it always was.

“H- hey!” he called out, hoping not to sound too pushy or immature. “Can you open the door, please?”

No response came.

“P- please?”

The door didn’t budge.

“Hey, uh…” Karl tried to call the intern by name when he remembered he didn’t know it, “int- can you unlock the door? Please?”

Karl’s voice sounded so small and fragile, and he hated it. He felt so embarrassed, and a single tear trickled down his cheek, only adding to his self-consciousness.

“Oh, my mistake,” the intern sneered, creaking the door open and ushering Karl through.

Karl quickly wiped his tear with his oversized sleeve and scampered after the intern who was already making their way down the hall.

Karl suppressed any lingering sadness and fear as he let his excitement bubble up inside him. He was going to see his friends again! It had been… years!

Would they even remember him? (yes, of course they would, it hadn’t been that long for them)

The limo door opened and Karl slid out. He acknowledged the intern with a small ‘thank you’ and then internally shouted at himself for sounding so weak and small again.

He ran up the familiar andesite steps and entered the academy.

Entering the grand main entrance of the school, Karl looked around in awe. He had forgotten just how grand the private school was.

He stood there for a moment, feet planted firmly and hands clenched, before he remembered where he was supposed to go.

His classroom, right. (Which was that?)

He stumbled down the corridors of the school (it wasn’t like the corridors that he was led down coming to and from travels. Don’t think about those halls) and finally made it to the classroom.

“Oh my Prime! Karl! I- we missed you! Where were you? I’m so glad you’re back!”

A girl with long, curly brown hair came bounding up to Karl and embraced him.

He recognized the girl. She- she was his friend, right? But, staring into her mildly confused gaze, Karl couldn’t put a name to the face.

“Karl? Are you alright?” she asked.

Karl could feel that emptiness that scratched his brain, he could feel the holes in his mind where memories were supposed to be stored. What was her name? Karl felt himself slipping, he was falling-

“Oh! Hannah!” he exclaimed as the name rushed into his head and the fog cleared.

“Yeah? You look so surprised! Did something happen?”

Karl was supposed to say something if anyone asked where he’d been. What was it again? Oh, right.

“I went on a trip a- abroad for the se- semester,” he stuttered. “I went to school there. It was pretty boring, and I missed you a lot.”

Decades of practice kept Karl’s face calm and his tone believable, so Hannah believed his lie.

“Okay, I’m just glad you’re back. I’m gonna go get Quackity, stay right here!”

Karl kept his feet firmly planted just like Hannah had told him to, and repeated her and Quackity’s names over and over in his head so he wouldn’t forget.

He can feel memories from the past eating away at his brain, his memories depleting as soon as he dares to think of something else.

“Karl! You’re back!” someone yelled. Quackity, his name was Quackity.

Stop forgetting.

“Quackity! I missed you!” Karl shouted back, and he broke Hannah’s command to run and hug his two friends. Upon realizing that he had disobeyed Hannah, he stumbled backwards with wide eyes.

“Oh- oh sorry,” he mumbled.

“Why are you apologizing?” Hannah asked, her head tilted to the side. “You can hug us, we don’t mind.”

“No, I- I didn’t stay… nevermind…” Karl trailed off.

“Ohhhhh kay,” Quackity interrupted, “so, wanna distract people while I fuck up their pencils beyond repair?”

And so the trio fell back into their regular rhythm, with Karl trying to mask how much more broken he had become.

Another year passed. They all turned eight (and on Karl’s 8th birthday, no one mentioned parties or gifts, they just lent him kind words and affection).

The march of time continued on.

A few days before Hannah’s ninth birthday, she came to school with tears budding in her grey eyes.

“G- guys, I’m moving away,” she sobbed. “My dad said he was ‘moving up the political ladder’ and we have to live in the capital city! I don’t even know where that is!”

The three became two, and a gaping hole was left in the boys’ hearts.

Until Karl’s was filled with memories, consuming those of the people he had lost.

“I miss Hannah,” Quackity had remarked.

“Who?”

Quackity had scoffed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I feel you,” he responded. Karl looked at Quackity, confused, but didn’t press into the matter.

Karl had lost countless friends, and so anyone who wasn’t a constant in his life became lost to time.

The year dragged on, and Karl’s travels were long more often than not. He beat his previous record of a year in the past by tripling it.

School was his safe haven, and Quackity was the only person keeping him happy. Quackity was the only friend who Karl could go back to.

Quackity turned nine, and Karl followed suit not soon after.

Karl was deteriorating. He was scared of a lot of things. His mind goes blank at seeing certain objects. His breathing stops whenever he hears specific sounds. He tries to be strong but ultimately fails in the end.

But school was the oasis in a desert of pain, a raft in a sea of sorrow.

But fate was cruel, the universe hated Karl.

Karl didn’t deserve a safe haven.

The days that change someone’s life for the worse always start like any other.

Karl startled awake at the opening of his door. He got dressed and the limo took him to school. But when he entered the classroom, he froze.

No. No no no, this can’t be happening.

In his teacher’s hand resided a small remote controller.

The same one that plagued Karl’s nightmares and his everyday life. The controller that operated his collar.

Karl gasped and almost fainted.

This couldn’t be real- school was his safe place!

He didn’t have to travel- no one made him do anything that he didn’t want to!

“Karl, take a seat,” his teacher ordered.

Karl couldn’t even recall the teacher’s name, but he reflexively obeyed the command without thinking.

“Students, settle down! Now, I have a very special announcement. Today we begin our first deep dive into history lessons! And, Karl, don’t worry, your guardians gave me full permission to share this information with everyone, and you’re going to travel for us.”

The classroom erupted into whispers, students turning and discussing what had just been said.

“Guardians? Is he an orphan or some shit?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I dunno- most people have parents, it’s just weird and kinda sad.”

“Travel? The fuck does that mean?”

And Quackity, who came over to Karl and whispered into his ear, “they didn’t ask you about whatever this is, did they?”

“Okay, okay, sit back down and shut up,” the teacher beckoned. “Karl here, as you may know, is a time traveller, and-“

“HOLY FUCK, WHAT?”

Karl stared at his classmates, confused. He could have sworn they knew! Had he told a different class? Had he never told anyone at all?

“Yes, yes,” the teacher said, “I know. His guardians have told us that we are allowed to use him to travel and help us in our lessons!”

Use him. Not ask him, use him. Karl was sick of being an object, a tool. He just wanted to be… Karl.

“What’s that remote thingy?” a girl in the back of the room called out.

“Oh,” the teacher scoffed, “this? It’s just… to keep Karl safe.”

And from that day onwards, Karl didn’t have any safe place. He began to feel sick at the mere thought of the colors green or purple. And just like all nine year olds, his classmates were mostly jerks about the situation.

“Karl’s kinda like our class pet!” one of them joked. The words cut deeper than knifes. Karl bit back his tears, but he had gotten good at holding his emotions. He was good.

A week of Karl traveling for the class went by and finally, Quackity approached him about it.

“Karl?” he inquired softly, sitting down next to Karl.

“Yeah?” Karl responded, his mind somewhere else.

“How are you?”

“Fine.” It was automatic, like a reflex. He hadn’t taken even a second to think about it. But the hesitance in his voice and the unsure look on his face juxtaposed the statement.

“I know you’re not fine, Karl. I know you too well, I’ve seen you almost every day since we were what, five?”

“No,” Karl murmured, “you haven’t.”

“What does that mean?” Quackity prompted, flabbergasted.

“I- you- I just- I… traveling… sometimes I’m in the past for weeks… or months- or years! And I’m just alone- or sometimes I’m not- and I make friends who I have to abandon as soon as the collar… nevermind… but I just- I’m- I mean nothing to anyone! And I just-“

Karl broke down sobbing, unable to finish. He hadn’t ever been able to open up to anyone before, and even though if the scientists found out that he had gone into any detail with Quackity he would be punished and tortured… being able to say anything about the endless prison-esque loop he was trapped in helped him.

He wanted to tell Quackity how when he travelled, he saw Quackity’s ancestors… or doppelgängers, whatever they were. Karl wanted to say how Quackity was his oasis and solace…

He rubbed the tears and turned to look at Quackity, his only source of joy.

No such entity was at his side. Quackity- had he left Karl?

Where was he?

“Quackity?” he choked out.

No response. Karl was alone (as always, as it should be).

In a fit of emotion that afternoon after school, Karl foolishly said that he didn’t want to travel to some especially dark age in history.

He hadn’t even full out refused, he just said that he had already been tortured and convicted of crimes he didn’t commit that day, and he didn’t want to do it again.

He asked if for once, he could go somewhere happy.

Karl wasn’t allowed back to school for five months.

Yes, that would teach Karl to be complacent.

Karl just had to behave! Why couldn’t he do anything right?

The five months (decades of torture) crept by and then Karl was given the gift of returning to the academy.

He was endlessly grateful- the scientists were so kind to allow him to go! After he had been so disrespectful and horrible (he didn’t remember what he had done wrong), he was being given mercy.

He returned to school and found that Quackity had new friends. He didn’t acknowledge Karl all day. Karl was alone.

Karl hated being alone (he deserved it though, didn’t he) and the loss of Quackity’s friendship hit Karl hard.

Karl lost his sense of time. It seemed sudden when Karl noticed the date a while later and found that it was his tenth birthday.

“Hey, happy birthday,” Quackity said, nonchalantly as he brushed past Karl.

The first words that Quackity said to Karl since his return.

The next day, the class started their ‘deep dive’ unit on the rise of powers in humanity and the discrimination due to it.

Today’s lesson was on the targeting of so called ‘OP’ people, what they endured, and the aftermath.

The class remarked about their discontentment towards people with powers and how they were so glad that powers were being eradicated.

It was ironic in a sad way. Everyone hated powers and those who had them, and then they would ask Karl to use his power so they could learn more about why powers were bad.

If he had a choice, he would have refused.

Having a choice would be nice.

Before they began, Karl was supposed to examine the time firsthand and tell the class about his findings.

The teacher gave him a time and place and he read it off the paper.

Green and purple and nausea and pain and suffering and vibrance and-

Karl appeared dazed in a dark alleyway. Before the swirls fully cleared from his vision, someone approached him and knocked him unconscious with some electric stick thing.

That was unfortunate.

He was in the back of a car now, and he could hear someone breathing. He wasn’t alone.

He fell back asleep.

Karl faintly noted his collar being… removed, somehow? His neck was free, he was fr-

The anesthesia pulled him under and whispers of ‘surgery’ seemed to echo across the room.

Karl didn’t fight it.

Then he was awake and in pain and hungry and in the dark-

Worse things had happened.

But then chaos erupted after the prisoners had been moved to another room. The walls of silence were broken down and the captives began to converse.

Karl was prompted to speak by someone who had kind eyes (the kindest eyes often held the greatest malice towards Karl) but he-

He couldn’t speak.

He broke down in tears.

He was trapped here. Trapped in this time.

He would be ten years and one day old until he was killed. Or until his voice was restored.

He could never leave (but was that so bad?)

Knowing that he was trapped in this time, Karl had no trouble forming attachments and befriending his fellow captives.

It was easier for him to be happy because he had truly been through worse.

And no one could abandon him.

———————-

“Karl, wake the fuck up!” Tommy yelled.

Sorry, I’m awake! Karl signed.

“Okay, good, you fell asleep without Gogy, did you have a nightmare?” Tubbo asked.

No, Karl responded, just some memories.

“Okay, well,” Tommy said, “Philza agreed to play tag and we’re gonna show him how awesome we are at it, and I’m not letting you miss out on this opportunity because you’re fast as fuck, and-“

“Tommy, shut it,” Tubbo interrupted. “But he’s right, let’s go!”

Karl grinned and climbed down from the top bunk.

Philza Minecraft is about to get destroyed.

Chapter Text

Technoblade stared down at the child bleeding out at his feet.

The voices were commending him for such an unclean and bloody kill, but Techno wished that the small child could have died painlessly, lest not at all.

He could kill with ease and yet he was so, so powerless.

Techno turned to look over at his twin who was strapped to some strange machine and bleeding from his temple.

Wilbur made eye contact with Techno and then flinched away.

Techno was confused for a moment, but then he remembered that he had just killed a child and he was twitching and probably looked deranged; of course Wilbur was scared of him.

The voices had a field day upon seeing Wilbur’s fear and fragility. Some felt bad for Wilbur, while the more animalistic begged for Wilbur’s blood.

He would give them blood, but not Wilbur’s. He would never hurt Wilbur (he already had, beyond repair, Wilbur was broken because of him).

“ Drink ,” the loudspeaker commanded.

Like a puppet with no control over his own actions, Techno kneeled on the ground and cupped his hands next to the wound on the child’s neck.

Blood bubbled out from the cut, like a second mouth spitting out some hot, thick fruit punch.

Techno’s hands were soon full of the liquid and he pulled them to his mouth and began to swallow.

Fruit punch, that was all it was. That was what he would tell himself.

Sadly, Techno was never good at lying to himself.

He felt a surge of energy course through his body. An adrenaline rush. He felt more powerful and his face twisted into a sick smile, coated crimson with blood.

Then Techno became all too aware of the wires attaching Wilbur (and himself, apparently) to the machine.

It wasn’t painful, but it didn’t feel good (like consuming the blood of the fallen did) either. It was a harsh buzzing, and Techno felt prickling all over his body.

He stole another glance in Wilbur’s direction and saw his twin clenching his eyes shut.

As quickly as the prickling had come, it subsided, and Techno dared to run over to his brother’s side.

Before he could embrace Wilbur, however, his brother flinched and cowered from his touch.

Right. He was coated in blood and had obviously just killed someone.

Wilbur had seen Techno kill all the time, but never anyone innocent, and even still, Wilbur was uncomfortable at the sight of so much blood.

“Hey,” Techno soothed, “you’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I know, Wilbur responded, but you can’t really control that, can you?

He was right. Techno couldn’t control the bloodlust, it threatened to consume him every waking moment.

Wilbur continued to sign but Techno turned away and his gaze came to rest upon the small corpse who had just stopped breathing.

He stared blankly at the dead child for a minute or so before he heard the noise of a hand violently making contact with skin behind him.

He whipped his head around to find Wilbur hitting his own leg as hard as he could, tears bubbling from his eyes.

“Hey, woah, hey, stop!” he said sharply, and then he hissed as Wilbur flinched at the inflection in his voice. “Sorry, I just- don’t do that, okay? Are you okay? I’m worried.”

Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out, Wilbur signed. You just… you looked away and I couldn’t get your attention and I was just trying to make noise so you’d look again. I’m sorry, that was probably selfish of me, I know that… having to use your power is hard sometimes.

Techno hadn’t really thought about how helpless his twin must feel when he has something to say but can’t. Did that make Techno a horrible brother?

“I-“

Techno was interrupted by his muscles involuntary weakening, causing his collapse, due to the device that disrupts his nerve signals and temporarily paralyzes him.

“ This experiment is complete. You will now be returned to your cell, ” the loudspeaker informed them.

The guards sauntered into the room and Techno felt a sick feeling in his gut as Wilbur’s face went blank and his demeanor grew meeker than usual.

Techno supposed that staying limp would be something that all of the prisoners had to do, not just himself and Tommy involuntarily.

But Wilbur’s fear and instant submissiveness made Techno feel uneasy. He had seen the guards abuse Wilbur countless times for being ‘too defiant’ but the fact that it was a concern only clicked with Techno at this moment.

Did that make Techno a bad person? He was already a murderer, and his traumatized brother was apparently scared of him.

Techno was dragged down the corridors of the prison and tossed limply into the cell. Wilbur was nudged in after him and the door swang shut.

“Wilby!” Tommy exclaimed as he came bounding up to the older brunette. His face fell as he realized what he had just said and he rushed to correct himself. “Oh- fuck- I mean Wilbur- no no no no no-“

“Oh my Prime, Tommy, you’re a literal child,” Tubbo teased, popping out from behind Tommy’s shoulder.

“Ah- no no no, I meant Wilbur! I- I’m gonna change the subject- Uh, Wilbur I need entertainment,” Tommy said.

Sorry, Tommy, not right now. I’m going to go ask Gogy to let me sleep now, I’m tired.

Tommy looked as if he was trying to suppress the words ‘fuck you, entertain me regardless of your desires’ but he nodded solemnly and allowed Wilbur to make his way to George.

Technoblade felt bad for the child, who must be bored out of his mind, so he decided he would be a good person and entertain the kids.

Maybe the good deed would make up for killing a child.

“Theseus,” Techno barked, and noticed his voice sounded very harsh and loud next to the others’ in the cell.

Tommy must have felt the same way, because he flinched upon hearing Techno speak and kept his eyes shut and his body curled in on itself.

“Oh- no, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Techno quickly corrected, “I was just gonna offer to play with you guys.”

“No, it’s okay, we’re just gonna go… hang out… in our room? Yeah- sorry to… yeah,” Tommy concluded.

Tommy shot Tubbo a look and the two teens scampered off towards their room where Purpled and Karl were already sitting.

Techno felt pretty awkward. Everyone was so…traumatized, and Techno didn’t really relate. They all flinched at loud words or particularly aggressive actions, and were always very submissive and obedient. And everyone seemed to be scared of Technoblade.

Was it just him? Was he messed up in some way?

Techno looked down at his large hands, still caked with the blood of the child who he had just killed. Was he a monster? Was that how they all saw him?

The voices were telling him to lick the blood from his fingers as if it was chocolate, but Techno shut them out.

He had already taken all of the child’s years, he didn’t need to consume any more blood.

Technoblade hated the taste of blood. Well, hate was a strong word. He didn’t like it. It tasted like rust and metal, and was hot and thick. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

The taste lingered in his mouth, reminding him that he had just killed someone and taken their years as his own.

But he was just a quick adjuster, and nothing ever felt particularly scary to him. He was brave to a fault, some would say.

So maybe he wasn’t constantly terrified. Did that make him a monster? Or was everyone just afraid because-

Techno became suddenly awake of a stream of blood trickling down from his bottom lip. He self-consciously licked it away and received a strange glance from Phil across the room.

Realizing that Phil probably thought he was either consuming his own blood or someone else’s (and the latter was true) he walked over to the older man.

“Hey Phil,” Techno said.

“Yes? Do you have something you need to talk about?” Phil asked.

Techno had no reason to talk with Phil at the moment besides the fact that he didn’t want Phil to think he was some sort of child-killing vampire (because he wasn’t a vampire, even though he drank blood sometimes).

“Uh- no, can’t a guy just talk to his best friend?” Techno responded smoothly. Or not smoothly, his response was actually very forced and awkward sounding.

“Listen, Techno, I’m not a mind reader, but it’s pretty obvious why you’re distressed right now,” Phil told Techno. “Y- you do know that you’re covered in blood, your pupils are the opposite of dilated, they’re so small, and they’re kinda slitted right now as well, and your left eye is actually twitching violently, and you look like a serial killer, and-“

“Phil, I thought you were supposed to be the nice one!” Techno stared blankly at the older man.

“What?”

“I mean, aren’t you supposed to… like, all of the little kids are infatuated with you. You’re supposed to let me down gently, not tell me… the truth!” Techno spat out with a joking tone in his words.

Philza sighed with a slight smile and said, “alright, mate, let’s just get you cleaned up, okay?”

Phil led Techno over to their bathroom where he turned the dial on the cracked porcelain sink and a steady stream of water began to trickle forth. The older motioned for the pink-haired teen to scrub his hands, arms, and face, and then helped him rub the stains off of his bright orange shirt.

The water was cold, and the extremity of the temperature grounded Technoblade and weakened his resolve to keep his emotions bottled up. He wasn’t the weak one. But everyone feels better after lifting the weight off their chest.

“Phil,” Techno blurted, “can I tell you what I did?”

Not what happened, not what he was forced to do, but what he did. Techno was a realist, and he only blamed himself for the murder.

“Sure, mate.”

“So, you know how I’m technically… sometimes… immortal?” Techno asked.

“WHAT?” Philza gasped in shock. “You’re immortal?”

“No, not- not in an immortal sense per say…”

“WHAT? What does that mean?”

“I’ve told you about my powers, Phil.”

“Apparently not all of them.”

Techno sighed. “Okay, well, let’s see… I have enhanced fighting ability, uh, there’s Chat, and sometimes I can also hear Wil’s thoughts, and then there’s the fact that I can be immortal if I feel like it.”

Philza blinked slowly and stared at Technoblade. “Elaborate?”

“If I kill someone and ingest their blood, I gain all of the lifespan that they would have lived on to have if I didn’t kill them. So if I kill enough people, I could live forever. Cmon, surely this is common knowledge amongst you all?”

Phil shook his head and responded, “that’s a very big burden for someone so young.”

Phil almost looked… sad.

“Why?” Techno inquired before he could stop himself.

“Immortality isn’t… entirely a good thing. You have to watch as everyone you love turns to dust as your heart beats on. Life becomes worthless after centuries of being unfulfilled.”

Technoblade blinked slowly.

“Phil, you’re immortal, right? Any words of wisdom for a fellow cheater of death?”

Phil stared at him harder, obviously not finding Techno’s attempt at humor very funny.

“I’d recommend not killing anyone else. I haven’t been alive for very long, but yes, the rumors are true and I’m immortal. Not- not invulnerable though, I can still technically die… maybe?”

“You have no idea, do you, Phil?” Techno quipped in his monotone voice.

“No,” Phil exhaled, grinning, “but since I’m capable of being hurt, I assume I could die. I heal very rapidly, though.”

Phil’s admission to his immortality had Chat racing in the back of Techno’s mind, overwhelming his thoughts.

Immortal duo?

E

Immortal trio!

trio?

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

immortalza

QUADO

Immortal quartet?

POG

“Chat,” Techno whispered, “it’s just Phil and I, you all suck at math.”

Four

Wrong

E

There’s four

BLOOD

who’s the other two

E

IMMORTAL QUADO

Techno sighed and decided to ignore the unhelpful voices.

“Okay mate, you’re all cleaned up,” Phil said

Techno nodded gratefully and left the bathroom to go find his brother.

He remembered Wil telling Tommy that he was going to sleep, so Techno walked over to his, Wilbur’s and Niki’s shared room.

When Techno arrived in the small room, he found Wilbur fast asleep with his head on Niki’s lap, who was gently stroking his hair.

Wilbur looked so young and sad in sleep.

“Is something wrong?” Techno asked.

“Yeah…” Niki whispered as not to wake up Wilbur, “he- uh- do you want to hear the whole thing?”

Techno nodded and sat down on the bed across from Niki.

“Okay. It’s not really my business, but it’s definitely yours so I’ll tell you what Wil told me. You had to kill a kid and use your power to, what, get the child’s lifespan?”

Techno nodded, and Niki continued. “Well, did you stop to wonder why Wilbur was there, just hooked up to the same mechanism as you?”

“I guess, why? Does Wilbur know?”

“Yeah- a scientist told him why, apparently they’ve got this theory that your lifespan carries over to Wil too, and so that machine is supposed to, like, see how long you’ll live? And so when you killed the child, both of your lifespans went up. So, good news is that you won’t have to watch Wilbur grow old and die!

“But the bad news is that, furthering this line of thought, the scientists are wondering what happens if you kill Wilbur. I mean- if one of you dies, does the other? Or would you take all of Wilbur’s lifespan? So they’re… considering…”

Niki trailed off, letting Techno come to the conclusion himself.

“THEY WANT TO WHAT?” Techno shouted, waking Wilbur up with a jolt.

Wilbur’s eyes shot open and looked panicked, and his breath was quick until he took in his surroundings and calmed.

“Oh, sorry Wil, we didn’t mean to wake you,” Niki whispered. “Do you want me to get Gogy to help you back asleep?”

Yes please, Wilbur responded. Niki hopped off the bed and jogged over to where George was trying to untangle Tubbo’s bed head with little success.

“Wilbur,” Techno said, “I just want to let you know that I won’t listen to the scientists if they order me to kill you. I only obey them in the first place to keep us all safe, and if you’re endangered I’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure you’re safe.”

Niki told you? Wilbur asked, and Technoblade nodded. I doubt they would actually do that. I’m just too valuable to throw away like that, you know?

Techno snickered and then George and Niki entered the room behind him.

“Wilbur, I’m very busy right now, so put your head down so I can knock you out,” George ordered. Wilbur nodded fervently and flopped back down onto the bed.

He quickly made eye contact with George and was fast asleep in a heartbeat.

“You’re welcome,” George enunciated, and he turned to leave.

BYE GOGY

THE PLOT CONTINUES

POG

BLOOD

AHHHH HE FOUND 3/4 IMMORTAL QUADO

GOGY

sleepbur

IMMORTAL QUADO

“Stop with the immortal quado,” Technoblade grumbled under his breath, “quado isn’t even a word!”

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if Chat was correct and there was a fourth technical immortal in the cell.

“Hey Niki, by any chance are you immortal at all?” Techno blurted.

“N-no?” she stammered.

“Do you know anyone who is? With nothing better to do, I’ve decided to solve a mystery.”

“Isn’t Phil technically immortal?”

“Yeah, but I knew that. Chat’s been spamming about some ‘immortal quado’ and I guess I know Phil, me and Wilbur, so I need one more.”

“What is this, a fluff episode of an anime?” Niki giggled. “Uh, I’m not sure, but if you really want to find out, I’m sure you can just… ask people.”

“Yeah, right, go up to people and say ‘hello there! What is your lifespan, my good sir?’ That’s pretty awkward.”

“That’s literally what you just asked me.”

“Bruh.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“Okay, fine,” Techno relented, “I’ll go ask everyone if they’re immortal or not. I’m invested in this plot line now, I need to know.”

And so, Techno set out on his mission to discover 4/4 immortals for the quado. Except he would try and coerce chat to change the name (which would be fruitless, of course).

“Tommy, do you know if anyone besides Phil, Wilbur and myself are immortal?”

“HOLY FUCK- YOU AND WILBUR ARE IMMORTAL? HOW? CAN I BE IMMORTAL TOO?” Tommy shouted.

“I take it you don’t know.”

“NO, BUT-“

Techno sighed and started to walk towards his next target, Dream, who could realistically be immortal.

“HEY- DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME, BITCH!” Tommy yelled, but his screams did little to convince Techno to pay him any mind.

“Dream, are you immortal?”

“I dunno,” Dream shrugged, “maybe?”

Techno sighed. “You can’t confirm, though?”

Dream shook his head. “I’m probably not. I just haven’t died before- so I can’t say anything for sure, right?”

“Thanks anyway,” Techno said.

Techno decided that he would ask Bad next, and he walked across the main room of the cell with intent to approach the man, when Karl suddenly ran up to him.

Techno! Karl signed. Tommy said that you were looking for people who are maybe I-M-O-R-T-A-L, and I technically can’t age!

“Immortal has two M’s,” Techno corrected. “Wait- you can’t age? Why? Is that part of your power? Aren’t you a time traveller?”

I’m not from now, Karl explained, but that doesn’t matter, I just wanted to let you know because Tommy told me you needed the information.

“You’re not from now? You know what- sure, if you don’t want to elaborate further you don’t have to, thanks for letting me know.”

Karl grinned and ran over to let Tommy know that he had told Techno about his inability to age in this time period.

The voices in the back of Techno’s head were ecstatic that Techno had figured it out, even if the answers had just fallen into his lap and all he had received in the end was a ton of exposition on his cellmates’ powers.

Techno decided that he would join Wilbur in sleep, so he went over to tell George to make him do so.

As he locked eyes with George and the power kicked in, his last conscious thought was of how he would never kill the twin who was peacefully in slumber beside him.

He would protect Wilbur at all costs.

Chapter Text

“Tommy, can I speak with you and Ranboo for a moment?” Tubbo asked, bounding up to where Ranboo and Tommy sat.

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t have to ask, Tubs,” Tommy replied.

“Ok- listen guys,” Tubbo said. “I had this amazing idea- so you know how the three of us are mature as fuck and-“

“I already don’t like where this is going,” Ranboo interrupted.

“No- you’ll love it a ton,” Tubbo responded. “Here’s my plan- so you know how young children need guidance and someone to help them make their way in the world?”

“No,” Tommy and Ranboo answered in unison.

“Well, they do! Phil told me so! But anyways, long story short we should mentor the three little ones and be good influences towards them.”

“I AM NOT LITTLE!” Sapnap yelled, running over to where the trio conversed. “I’m barely younger than you guys! Less than a year! You’re just thirteen! If anyone’s gonna mentor me, it’d be Techno or Niki or Wil, someone ACTUALLY mature and older.”

“See Sapnap, that little outburst shows how badly you need me as a father figure,” Tubbo boasted.

“WHAT THE FUCK? Tubbo- you’re not my father figure!” Sapnap shouted, shocked.

“I could be.”

“NO! Ughhh- Prime, this is Phil’s doing, isn’t it? I’m gonna go tell him that I am NOT letting three thirteen year olds be the father figures to Karl, Purpled and me,” Sapnap decided, and he stormed off towards Phil.

“My prodigal son,” Tubbo sniffed.

Tommy and Ranboo just stared at their practically insane friend, speechless.

“Alrighty,” Tubbo amended, “so shall we choose whom mentors who?”

Tommy scoffed. “Actually? This isn’t some joke?”

“I mean- obviously Phil’s the father man, but I think it’d be a funny dynamic for us to keep up. Everyone loves the sibling dynamic! We can be like- like cool older brothers! And it’d be nice,” Tubbo explained.

In Tommy’s mind, it was a chance to make a second Tommy, a partner in crime.

“Fine, we’ll go through with your shit plan. I speak for Boob Boy too, we’re both in,” Tommy decided.

“Okay,” Ranboo agreed.

“Great! Now that that’s settled, I want Sapnap,” Tubbo stated.

“W- what?” Tommy sputtered. “Why do you get to choose? That’s picking favorites! And why don’t I get first pick?”

“Because I’m the oldest,” Tubbo said simply. “And Sap’s the oldest. And he’s the most violent, so I want him.”

“Didn’t you say that I can- um- share your birthday since I didn’t remember mine?” Ranboo asked. “D- doesn’t that make us the same age?”

Tubbo pondered the taller’s words for a moment. “True- but I’m like- an hour older or something. If you wanna do it by age, you can have Purpled!”

“Sure,” Ranboo agreed, happy to not have to make the decision himself.

“LANGUAGE!” Bad shrieked. Tommy turned to see who Bad was scolding and found it to be Sapnap, who was keeping his word and yelling at Phil.

Sapnap made eye contact with Tommy and came jogging back over.

“Tommy- Tubbo listens to you- convince him not to be my father!” Sapnap whined.

“Oh son,” Tubbo cooed, “that’s not… you’re… yeah I have no idea what to say to keep up this bit. Sapnap, I’m going to be your father and brother and mentor.”

Sapnap glared at Tubbo. “You’re shorter than me.”

“Technically, but-“

“I’m getting Karl and Purpled, see what they think about this,” Sapnap interjected, and he ran off to find the aforementioned pair.

Which wouldn’t take long, considering the size of their cell.

“My son is better behaved than your son,” Tommy teased the brunette.

“NO HE IS NOT!” Tubbo exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Karl pretty much looks up to Sapnap, anything behavioral-wise that you scorn MY son for, yours follows suit in doing.”

“Not for long, bitch, he’s got a new role model- me!”

“Guys, the bit really isn’t funny,” Ranboo said.

“It’s not a bit anymore, fucker! It’s a challenge- I will raise the better son,” Tommy declared.

Tubbo gasped, putting his hand over his chest. “You wouldn’t. You can’t! I’m superior in every way.”

“Are not!” Tommy shouted, shoving the thought that this entire bet and argument was, in fact, stupid, out of his mind.

“I guess it’s a competition now,” Ranboo grumbled.

As if on cue, Sapnap came bounding back over, dragging Karl by the wrist, with Purpled casually walking behind the two.

“Okay,” Sapnap panted, “I- I got them. Tubbo- tell them your messed up and quite frankly HORRIBLE plan!”

“It’s not horrible! But- uh- Tommy, Ranboo and I are gonna set up older brother slash father slash mentor dynamics with you three.”

“Do you see this kid? He just SAID the SLASHES! What the fuck?” Sapnap exclaimed.

“Tubbo,” Tommy whispered, goading his friend, “it kinda looks like I’m winning right now!”

“No!” Tubbo gasped. “Sapnap- my son, my own flesh and blood, how could you betray me like this?”

“I’M NOT YOUR SON! Th- this bit isn’t even funny!” Sapnap responded.

“Y’know, people keep saying that, but I don’t really see it. Anyways, you are canonically my son.”

“Yeah, I see the resemblance,” Purpled agreed.

“Y- you can’t see shit!” Sapnap sputtered. “I am NOT HIS SON!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Tubbo grinned.

Tommy couldn’t help but laugh at Sapnap’s distress. In an unconscious strive for validation, he looked around at his friends’ faces to be sure they were all laughing and happy too.

When his gaze landed upon Karl, he noticed that the younger boy was overwhelmed and nervous, likely from the loud yelling. Tommy understood what it was like to be scared due to raised voices, but he only grew on edge if people were angry or raising their voice in relation to him.

Regardless of his own experiences, Tommy approached Karl, who’s eyes were wide and his body was curled in on itself.

“Hey, Karl,” he whispered, “are you okay?”

Karl nodded ever so slightly but didn’t move to sign in response.

“D’you wanna go hang out in Wil’s room? It’s just him in there right now, and he’s asleep.”

Tommy was answered with another slight nod.

“Okay, one sec,” he whispered, and then he raised his voice to call out to Tubbo. “Tubs- I’m gonna… go spend some quality time with my younger brother slash son figure.”

Tubbo looked as if he was going to respond with a sassy quip, but noticing Karl’s condition, he nodded understandingly.

Tommy stood up and started over towards the older teens’ room when Karl grabbed the sleeve of his orange top and tugged at it softly.

Tommy’s head whipped back around to meet Karl’s stare, and he was met with the younger’s huge watery eyes and wounded expression.

Tommy sighed but decided that it was entirely important to help his friend.

“Is it okay if I touch you? I’m gonna pick you up,” Tommy said. Karl’s lips pressed into a thin grateful smile and he nodded again.

Tommy took that as consent and scooped up Karl into his arms, princess carrying the quivering child across the cell and laying him down on Wil’s bed.

Watching Karl try and calm himself with deep breaths, Tommy cursed himself for not knowing what to do when people were nervous or panicking.

He decided he would go and ask someone for advice- Niki probably knew, and so he turned to leave.

As soon as he took a step towards the exit of the room, he heard Karl frantically patting his knee, making noise by hitting himself so that Tommy would notice him.

He whipped his head around and ran back over to Karl, who was making grabby hands at Tommy so he wouldn’t leave Karl.

“You want me to stay?”

Karl nodded and then lifted his hands to sign.

It’s fine if you don’t want to be here. I just don’t want to be alone , Karl admitted.

“No- no, I can stay. Uhhh… do you… wanna… hear a story, I guess?” Tommy offered.

Don’t worry about it, I’m really sorry, I just got overwhelmed, I feel okay now, Karl signed. Karl took in one more deep breath and smiled, seeming recovered.

“Oh,” Tommy said. Admittedly, he was hoping he would get to make up a story for Karl, since he loved creating fictional worlds and developing them, and going off the walls crazy with unrealistic plots.

If you still want to make a story, we can! Karl contributed. It’ll be fun!

“Ohhhh- yes! And we can come up with the whole thing and show Tubbo to spite him!”

Yeah, Sapnap would never want to do this, so you can win your bet!

“Yes! Ohh- this is gonna be awesome!”

And so the pair began to weave a tapestry of tales. They started with world building, deciding the story would be about world full of hybrids of various animal kingdoms that each have their own government systems, and the wars that develop.

Tommy’s specialty was plots that make no sense (if he wrote fanfics, he’d only write crack) but he decided to take this story seriously to show Tubbo how good of an influence he was.

Since he was the biggest man and best influence, the plot developed to be about a corrupt and dystopian absolute government that oppressed the various hybrid branches.

The aforementioned overarching government was composed entirely of purebred human beings and they deemed themselves more intelligent than the hybrids because of ‘humans being inherently superior’.

Tommy tried to steer the plot away from hitting too close to their own government, but all his story’s development made him realize was how fucking dystopian the world they lived in was.

Eh, the best way to feel good in the face of problems is to ignore them.

They decided that the protagonist would be Tommy, except with a shit ton of plot armor. He was an avian hybrid (like one of his idols: Philza) and he was amazing at everything.

His luck was impeccable, as was his physical prowess and intelligence. His goal was to take down the government and instill democracy where all hybrids and humans are equal.

But some hybrids are more equal than others! Karl signed, grinning, as his reference fell on Tommy’s non-understanding eyes.

Karl was written into the story as Tommy’s sidekick. Karl wanted to be a cat hybrid because he thought it would come with a lot of cool skills, but Tommy argued against the idea.

“You do NOT want to be a catboy, Karl. That’s what the fanartists draw GOGY as, and I’m not subjecting your innocent young mind to the concept. You can be an avian like me.”

Tubbo was going to be the villain, the absolutarian ruler, because of how spiteful Tommy is.

“And we should make Ranboob his butler who joins our side but also sucks at everything and is super weak because of how much better than him I am. Sapnap can be his evil general, and we kill him, okay?”

No, I don’t wanna have Sapnap die!

“I’m your idol now, Karl, you have to let Sapnap go. Symbolically kill him to prove your newfound devotion to me.”

Karl’s face scrunched as if he was deep in thought. Can’t we just take him H-O-S-T-A-G-E and then he joins our side?

“Fine. But we defeat him in a super cool battle.”

Okay! Are Sapnap, Ranboo and Tubbo H-Y-B-R-I-D-S?

“No, they’re purely human, that’s why they’re evil. They believe that deviation from the societal norm should be punished,” Tommy declared, surprised at how fancy his words sounded.

Relatable, N-G-L, Karl signed. Tommy snickered at his use of acronyms.

“And Purpled can be the butler’s butler, I guess. Since he’s Ranboo’s canonic son.”

Their plot developed, and they added more characters. George was a cat hybrid, just as Tommy had previously eluded to. Techno was a pig hybrid because it was his favorite animal and his hair was already pink.

Niki was a fish hybrid, despite the fact that it wasn’t reasonable for a fish to be on land. Plot holes are just like pockets, and pockets make things cool, Tommy had explained. Wilbur was a sea otter hybrid. Or maybe it was a seal. Tommy had no idea what the difference was.

George, Techno, Niki and Wilbur were the friends that Tommy and Karl make along the journey to murder Tubbo that provide something to the plot. Techno brought fighting skills, Niki had common sense and survival skills, Wilbur had intellect and geographical knowledge, and George… was there because Tommy was secretly a Gogy stan and wanted to fight alongside one of his idols in a dramatic battle.

Dream and Bad were both purebred humans on Tubbo’s government board. They fought alongside Tubbo and are skilled warriors alongside of being a part of a political dynasty.

Phil still had bird wings, and Tommy elected him the ‘cool sensei’ of himself and Karl in the story. He would train the two before they go off on their journey.

“Tommy! Karl! Get back over here!” Tubbo shouted, breaking the pair from their planning.

“Fine!” Tommy yelled back, “we’re coming!”

Tommy hopped off the bed and started to walk over to where Tubbo was waving his arms frantically, and Karl scampered after him. Tommy’s heart warmed at Karl’s proximity to him, and he felt wanted.

Some days, all it took to make Tommy have to fight to hold back squeaks of joy was his friends just smiling near him, but today was one of those days where he felt unwanted and a general burden. Tommy realized that Karl was both literally and figuratively looking up to him, just as he had hoped, and it was that that put a giant grin on his face as he approached Tubbo.

“So Tommy, did you like my ‘having a son’ idea?” Tubbo asked.

“Yep!” Tommy chirped, and then his expression turned into one of shock due to how high pitched his voice sounded. It always seemed to get that way when he was over-excited about something that he really shouldn’t be all that hyped over.

Tubbo snickered, obviously picking up on Tommy’s pitch, but he didn’t tease Tommy for it, so Tommy took that as a small victory.

“Anyways, I wanted you and Karl to help me prove to Sapnap that he can just- just look up to me because I’m the best influence,” Tubbo said.

Tommy glanced over to where Sapnap and Karl were signing with bright smiles on their faces. “I can’t do that, Tubbster, because I’m easily the best influence. I’ll help you convince Sapnap, though. Because- oh my Prime, it’s amazing! I- I’ve always been the little brother slash son figure in every dynamic, and having someone look up to me- oh- it’s so nice.”

“I’m glad,” Tubbo grinned. “And yeah, if you can win my disobedient son over to my side, I’d appreciate it.”

Tommy went over to Sapnap and Karl and sat down next to them.

“Sap-“

“Proceed behind the bars so that bread may be graciously given to you,” a guard commanded, cutting Tommy off.

“Gracious, yeah right,” Tommy grumbled as he walked over to their bedroom.

Tommy climbed up onto his bed and once he plopped down onto the creaky mattress, he saw Karl staring up at him.

Can I come up too? Karl asked.

“Sure!” Tommy responded.

Karl hurried up the ladder and threw himself upon Tommy’s bunk.

Can we keep planning our story while we eat? We need to make the actual story now, not just the people and stuff.

“Yeah, sure!”

Sapnap stared up at Tommy and Karl discontentedly. “Tommy. You came over to talk with me? You said my name, so what is it?”

“Oh- yeah- Tubbo wanted me to explain why you should agree to be his younger brother figure.”

Sapnap shot him a look of disbelief. “It’s a really dumb idea, y’know. I doubt you can convince me to accept TUBBO of all people as my father. I- I have an ACTUAL father and siblings, and I don’t need a replacement.”

“That’s what this is about? You feel like you’re replacing the family who you’re probably never gonna see again?”

“What the fuck? N- no, it’s nothing like that, Tubbo would just be- he’s not- HE’S SHORTER THAN ME!”

“Mhm, well, Karl and I are like, the best at this, and maybe you can be Tubbo’s canonic older brother if that’s what your problem is,” Tommy suggested, absentmindedly running his fingers through Karl’s curly hair. Karl closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, content.

“You know Tubbo only invented this whole idea so that he could feel superior to someone, right? This whole facade you two have going- he’s manipulating you!”

The bars to their room slid back open and Tommy gestured for Karl to make his way down from the bunk before following suit.

“I guess,” Tommy said, “but if nothing else, it’s something to do. I can’t be the only one who needs constant entertainment!”

“Yeah,” Sapnap chuckled, “I’ve noticed.”

Tommy froze. At that moment, he realized that he probably constantly burdened people by always asking to be entertained. They probably all thought he was annoying. He was so loud, too!

Tommy was pretty good at repressing his spiraling, so he continued to follow Sapnap as his mind raced. Sapnap’s words had really hurt, even though they weren’t intended to. Why did Tommy feel so… sick?

Suddenly, Tommy was brought out of his train of thoughts by Karl tugging at his sleeve.

Are you okay? Karl asked.

Tommy took a deep breath. If Karl cared, then Tommy was probably being ridiculous. He shouldn’t panic over something so trivial as a need for validation, people were perfectly okay after way worse. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Not paying attention to where he was walking, Tommy collided with Sapnap and fell on his butt.

“Oi! Sapnap- why’d you stop walking?” Tommy snapped.

Sapnap didn’t respond, or even turn around to look at Tommy.

“Hey!” Tommy persisted. “Sapnap!”

Frustrated as to why he wasn’t being acknowledged, Tommy rolled over on the ground so he could see what Sapnap was staring at.

Following Sapnap’s gaze, Tommy saw three flat, sunken loaves of burnt bread. One of them had blood on it, since it apparently landed in a puddle of blood that hadn’t been tended to just yet.

There weren’t many means by which to clean in the cell, so a bit of dried blood wasn’t uncommon. But the bread was thin, and obviously wasn’t allowed to rise before it was cooked.

If only any of them had the luxury of scraping off the burnt parts… but they couldn’t because there were only three loaves, and they had to take all the bread they could get.

“Fuck,” Tommy cursed under his breath.

“Why are we getting less and less and less food?” Sapnap grumbled.

“How am I supposed to know?”

Sapnap sighed exasperatedly. “No- no it was rhetorical.”

Dream was the first to walk over to the bread, easily holding all three loaves in one arm. He brushed the grime and blood off each loaf the best he could.

“Okay, everyone,” Dream said, “I’m gonna break the bread into four same size pieces and one that’s a third of the size for each loaf so that we give one person the thirds and everyone ends up with the same amount. If we’re getting less and less bread, we have to be sure that everyone is fed enough. Nobody be selfless and give up your bread, we need everyone to be healthy.”

Tommy scoffed at Dreams idealistic ‘healthiness’ that no one would achieve, but admired the sentiment.

Dream ripped up the bread and began tossing chunks to people.

“Bad, can you wake up Wil please?” Dream asks as he tosses Tommy his piece. Tommy catches the piece in one hand, wishing that it were too big to do that with ease.

Tommy followed Sapnap over to where Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled were already sitting down to eat. Sapnap sat down and Tubbo immediately scooted over to sit next to Sapnap.

Karl sat down on Sapnap’s other side so that he couldn’t move away from Tubbo, grabbing his arm and holding it down.

“Karl! Let me go!” Sapnap yelled before he realized that he was much stronger than Karl, and he pulled his arm out from under Karl, flinging the brunette backwards.

Tommy reacted quickly, grabbing Karl’s head before it hit the hard obsidian.

“Oh, Karl, I just realized,” he whispered as he pushed Karl back up into a sitting position. “If we’re trying to be better than Tubbo and Sapnap, we probably shouldn’t- like- convince Sapnap to participate. That’s Tubbo’s problem!”

It’s only fair if Tubbo gets a chance to win, though. We’ll win either way, but still give the poor kid a fighting chance, Karl signed.

“Fine.”

Tommy sat down in the space between Ranboo and Karl and shoved the bread into his mouth. It wasn’t very good bread, the olive oil was too heavy and it ruined the taste, and was probably the reason the bread was so flat. And it was crunchy because it was burnt.

Tommy should be a food critic, he’s obviously very good at reviewing this bread.

“Sho- Shapnap,” Tommy said with his mouth full, “jusht do Tubbo’sh bwother fing so dat Kawl and I can win da bet.”

“It’s a bet?” Sapnap exclaimed. “Oh okay, I’m in! Anything to beat you, Tommy!”

“Oh my Prime- he takes after me so much!” Tubbo grinned. “We’re gonna do so much violence. Oh- if only we had windows, we could defenestrate people! I miss sunlight. Ah- but finally- someone to teach chaos to.”

“Okay, Tubbo, calm down. I’m still pretty much your age. Speaking of which- can I be the mentor? I’ll teach YOU how to fight, I’m probably better at it.”

“No,” Tubbo declared.

Deciding that it was a battle he could never win, Sapnap accepted his fate as Tubbo’s mentee.

“Our work here is done!” Tommy beamed.

Yep! Karl agreed. He shoved the remaining bread he had left into his mouth and stood up. Do you wanna plan our story more?

“Sure! Wanna go back into my bed so that Tubbo won’t bother us?”

He can still get up on the bed, though, can’t he?

“Oh, yeah, I guess. We don’t have to, then.”

No, let’s go up! I have the top bed too, it’s the best one.

“Yeah, I know, we sleep in the same room,” Tommy chuckled. Realizing that he may have hurt Karl’s feelings, he quickly amended his statement. “Oh- I mean- sorry, like- I just-… yeah the top bed is the best.”

Karl nodded and grabbed Tommy’s sleeve, leading him over to their room. He climbed up the ladder and rolled over onto the bed so that there was room for Tommy.

The two of them spent what must have been hours just discussing the fictional world they were developing. (It probably was hours, but they’ve got no time concept.)

After a while, Tommy was hopped up on adrenaline and rambling about an idea he had for a subplot when George walked into the room.

“Guys, I’m not sure if you noticed, but you’ve been awake for- like- nineteen hours straight or something. All your friends are sleeping. Dream sent me in to make you go to bed,” George said.

“We’re not tired!” Tommy exclaimed. George raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he asked. “Look at Karl, he’s obviously tired.”

Tommy whipped his head around to look at Karl, blonde curls flying into his face and hitting his forehead. Karl was clearly nodding off and he was slumping over on Tommy’s shoulder, his eyes slowly blinking open and shut.

How did Tommy not notice that?

“Oh, sorry Karl,” Tommy apologized, “we can go to sleep now.”

No, no, no, I’m not tired, it’s fine! Karl reassured him. We can stay up as long as you want to.

“You’re going to bed either way,” George said. “I don’t care how tired you are, it’s unhealthy to stay up for such a long period of time.”

“No it’s not!” Tommy argued. “How the fuck do you know how long we’ve been up? And I don’t NEED sleep! I’m the-“

“The Big Man Tommyinnit? Yeah, but you’re going to sleep.”

His words hit Tommy hard. The second time today that someone had called Tommy out for an expression of his, and honestly, it made Tommy feel really awkward.

Before Tommy could open his mouth to respond, Karl’s head fell onto Tommy’s lap. He was asleep. Foolishly, Tommy made eye contact with George and Tommy felt the man’s power dragging him out of consciousness.

“Okay, Dream, I made them both fall asleep! You’re welcome!” George called out, and then Tommy was out like a light.

—————-

“Tommy, the guard just called for you, they’re taking you for an experiment.”

Tommy shot up in bed and turned to look at the source of the voice, Bad. Tommy groaned but knew that there was no use protesting, and that he had to leave his room so that everyone else could be locked in and he could be taken.

Lifting up Karl’s head, carefully as not to wake him, Tommy slid out of bed and down the ladder. As soon as he took a few steps out of his room, a shock ran through his body and he fell down, paralyzed.

Face down on the obsidian, Tommy heard the bars to the rooms close and the door to the cell open. He was grabbed by the forearm and dragged down a hallway.

After a moment of being dragged, staring at a white tiled floor zoom by, and his knees being skinned, Tommy was tossed into a room and the guards left, locking the door.

Some time passed, and Tommy’s limbs began to connect to his brain again and he could move. He shakily stood up and took in his surroundings.

It was a room similar to the other ones he would always do the experiments in. White walls, tile floor, unsettling vibe. And in the center of the room was a contraption Tommy was all too used to seeing: a treadmill. Sort of.

Tommy knew what a treadmill was, he had one in his home before… the  kidnapping and imprisonment and stuff. Before the cell.

But this contraption in the center of the room, if it was a treadmill, it was a really fancy one. His old treadmill from his childhood wasn’t able to support his full speed. He could only run as fast as a NORMAL person, and the speeds wouldn’t go any higher than that.

But the treadmill on which his experiments often took place, well, it was different. He had been made to run at his maximum speed again and again by the doctors, and the treadmill never once failed.

Tommy loved to run, but going as fast as possible was physically painful. Not like anyone cared what Tommy thought.

“Ten,” the intercom started, but Tommy didn’t wait for the command. He climbed up onto the treadmill and stared up at the ceiling.

The treadmill turned on and Tommy started to move his legs as it picked up speed.

Just as he reached his favorite pace, the one that was as fast as he could go without hurting himself, the speed stopped increasing.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, confused, but didn’t dare to speak to the doctors.

“You’ll be running at this pace for as long as possible. If you stop running before we tell you to, and you step off, I will torture you, no holds barred. I just got a fucking divorce, and I will let all of my anger out on you if you’re not complacent, Ten.”

Tommy stared at the wall incredulously. This was an endurance test, rather then one of speed.

Suddenly, a small digital timer blinked on on the center part of the treadmill. A clock! Tommy hadn’t kept time in… however long! It was ironic that he didn’t know how much time it had been since he had a time concept.

The timer started, and Tommy stared in wonder as each second he ran, the numbers would tick by! He felt a little silly that he was so entranced by a simple clock, but it really was a luxury he hadn’t experienced in a while. Even if it was only showing the passage of time rather than the actual time of day.

He ran for twenty minutes before he started to get tired. He tasted iron in his saliva and his legs ached.

He waited for the intercom to ask him to stop but it was as silent as his pleas. Surely, the doctors could tell that he was growing fatigued. He didn’t dare speak or step off the treadmill, though.

The timer sped on and after what felt like an eternity, Tommy looked at the time again and found that it had been a total of thirty minutes. He didn’t remember time being this slow! Or maybe it only felt so long because he was fucking exhausted.

Forty minutes. He could barely move any longer but he HAD to keep going.

Fifty minutes. His legs were shaking and he started to push his power, which only made it hurt more.

Sixty minutes. Would being tortured even be worse than all the pain he was in now? He could barely breathe, and he was quivering violently, and his whole body ached. It had been an hour, and he wasn’t sure if he could last much longer.

Sixty-three minutes. He fell into a violent bout of coughing, almost falling off the treadmill. Luckily, he recovered. He would try his hardest to last until the doctors told him he was done. He wasn’t weak.

Seventy minutes. He tried to focus on anything besides the fact that he was in pain, but he couldn’t.

Eighty minutes. Adrenaline took over and he felt numb, as if he wasn’t in control of himself anymore.

Ninety.

One hundred.

After one hundred and seven minutes, Tommy’s vision was swarmed with black dots and he collapsed to the ground, rolling off the treadmill and onto the floor. The movement of the treadmill skinned the side of his face before flinging him off of it.

His whole body ached, and he was shaking violently. He heard the voice behind the intercom yelling at him, but he couldn’t make the words out because he was too overwhelmed with pain.

Vaguely, he could make out his muscles being shocked to paralyze him, but it didn’t make a difference. If anything, it gave him a split second of relief from the extreme fatigue.

In a moment of clarity, he heard the door open and felt someone grab him and sling him over their shoulder. He was sure he was being carried somewhere, but where? Would he get to go back to the cell? Or was he too weak during the experiment, and the doctor would hold their word and torture him?

He remained unmoving on the guard’s shoulder as he was brought… somewhere, until he was aggressively slammed onto the ground, which knocked the wind out of him.

He gasped for breath, but he was still exhausted and shaky, and any air that worked its way into his lungs wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, someone grabbed a fistful of his hair in their hands and yanked, pulling Tommy’s head up off the ground. Through watery eyes, Tommy took in the figure of the person who was hurting him.

One of the doctors, a tall, terrifying man with a cruel smile. Tommy quickly averted his eyes, hoping his punishment for being weak wouldn’t be made worse for daring to make eye contact.

“Alright, Ten, I’m a man of my word. I’m angry, you see. You don’t think having an affair is a reason for someone to divorce you, do you?” the doctor asked. Tommy didn’t know what the doctor wanted him to do. Did he want Tommy to speak? To answer? But, Tommy wasn’t allowed to talk to the doctors or guards. Even in school, there had been rules for addressing your superiors, and Tommy knew that he wasn’t even allowed to look at the doctors.

He decided not to respond, quivering and keeping his head down. Or rather, as down as he could, because the doctor still had Tommy’s hair clenched in his fist.

The doctor chuckled. “Alright, being defiant, are we?”

Oh no. Tommy had done something wrong! He guessed wrong, he was supposed to answer!

“I- I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TALK?” the doctor yelled, kicking Tommy with the toe of his boot so hard that Tommy heard a cracking noise. Tommy curled into a ball and tried not to sob.

There was never a right answer. Tommy should have remembered that! Prime, was he stupid.

He was hardly even a person, just a mistake, and he shouldn’t have been so horrible as to address someone so much better than him.

Tommy was even scared to address the adults who shared the cell with him sometimes, authority figures just made him so scared. He had no idea where the confidence to actually SPEAK to a doctor had come from.

Tommy didn’t protest when the doctor lifted him up and submerged him in a bucket of water. He was too tired to flail and thrash out when he started to run out of breath. Just as his vision started to go dark, the doctor pulled him out of the water and he gasped for breath before being plunged back under.

The doctor lifted him in and out of the water a few times and then threw Tommy on the ground.

Tommy coughed violently and gagged, spitting up water.

“Weak.”

Tommy couldn’t disagree, he was only getting this because he couldn’t last the whole time for an experiment. He probably didn’t even come close. His power was running fast, so why couldn’t he last?

Tommy felt numb, but he could vaguely make out the doctor kicking him again and again and again and again-

Tommy blacked out.

And promptly jolted awake again, as a swift kick to his ribs kept him from being able to run into the sweet bliss of sleep.

After some time, the doctor grew bored of beating Tommy, or maybe he wasn’t angry anymore, and he let Tommy lay alone on the ground.

Tommy watched as a stream of red trickled out from his side all over the white tile floor. He tried to move his arm to reach out and touch the pretty crimson swirls, but found that his muscles weren’t responding.

A moment later (Tommy already missed having the timer to know how much time has passed) the doctor returned and he grabbed Tommy and brought him over to a tall, thin black box that he had just brought into the room.

He shoved Tommy in, and Tommy found that the dimensions of the box were roughly his same height and width.

The doctor slammed the front of the box shut and Tommy was along, standing in the dark.

The box was tight, with the each of the walls lightly pressing on Tommy’s shaking figure, and the ceiling just above his head.

He couldn’t move, and he just had to stand.

The doctor left Tommy standing there on weak legs for ten hours and seven minutes, to atone for the one hundred and seven minutes of running that Tommy had failed at the end of. Not that Tommy knew how much time he was left to stand.

The pain was too great for Tommy to fall asleep, so he just shook and sobbed.

Ten hours and seven minutes later, the doctor returned, unlocking the box. Tommy saw light for the first time in hours, and he immediately fell forwards, collapsing on the ground.

The doctor didn’t say anything. Or maybe he did, but Tommy couldn’t make out any words.

A guard came in and grabbed Tommy by the skin on the back of his neck, carrying him limply like a kitten and finally throwing him back into the cell.

The cell closed and the rooms opened, and George jogged over to Tommy’s side. He examined Tommy and made the executive decision to look Tommy in the eyes, putting him to sleep and finally giving Tommy a break from the pain.

—————

“Hey, Tommy, are you okay?” Ranboo asked. Tommy tried to sit up but was greeted with excruciating pain that kept him paralyzed.

“No, then?” Ranboo continued, and Tommy forced a nod. “Want some bread?”

Tommy hadn’t eaten in a while, and Prime, had he expended a lot of energy in the past… time.

He opened his mouth and Ranboo put a small bit of bread in it. “Once you’ve chewed that, Tommy, I’ll give you another piece.”

After he finished the bread, Tommy finally noticed that he was not in his bed. Instead, he was on the bottom bunk, so probably Ranboo’s.

His eyes widened and he tried again to move, with no success. He hissed in pain, and Ranboo noticed what he was thinking.

“Oh, Gogy carried you over here but he put you in my bed, probably because he couldn’t balance up the ladder with you in his arms. I don’t think I can lift you up, so… yeah, you’re here now,” Ranboo explained.

“Oh!” Tubbo said, walking over to the bed upon noticing Tommy. “Tommy- you’re up! You were gone for a while, y’know. If I had a time concept, I would say you set the record for longest experiment!”

“No, Tubbo, remember that time that Dream was gone for what felt like days? He said he spent the whole time seeing how long he could inhabit someone else’s body?”

Tubbo shook his head from lack of recognition, so Ranboo continued. “Uh, he was gone for a while, and he slept for what felt like a million hours after, and he was in a lot of pain. He was covered in bruises, remember? You accidentally touched his back and his skin was so raw that he almost cried! And you laughed at him, remember?

“And… you figured out that it didn’t make sense that his body was so beaten, because he was in someone else’s body, so you realized that the doctors must have been abusing his body to see if he reacted, or something? Honestly, how don’t you remember this? It was like a whole thing with you.”

“No, I remember,” Tubbo confessed, “I was just making sure your memory was still doing fine.”

“Bruh,” Ranboo responded, in a tone that was more characteristic of Technoblade than Ranboo.

The trio sat in silence for a moment, then Tubbo spoke. “Okay, second place then, Tommy. Still, you don’t look too good, are you okay?”

Tommy tried to speak, but he couldn’t force sound out of his throat. He couldn’t move his arms to sign, either, he was just too tired.

“Oh, you’re tired, yeah?” Tubbo realized. Tommy nodded, and Tubbo continued. “Okay, I’m gonna get Gogy, and he’ll help you sleep. Actually- is it safe to just keep making you fall back asleep until you’re healed enough? Because you look like shit, bossman. Yeah, I’m gonna ask Gogy that.”

He ran off and returned a moment later with George in tow. “Okay, Tommy,” George said, “goodnight.”

And Tommy was asleep.

George returned ten more times, whenever Tommy began to stir, and returned him to slumber.

Finally, Tommy woke up and found that he was alone in the room. He tried to stand and found that he could do that with ease. He slid out of Ranboo’s bed (where had Boob Boy slept while Tommy was using his bed?) and walked over to Tubbo, his legs still a little shaky.

“H- hey,” he rasped, voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Oh, Tommy, you’re up! How do you feel?” Tubbo questioned.

“Better. Yeah- I’m okay,” Tommy reassured his shorter friend.

“Good! We’ve all missed your antics, Tommy. It’s boring without your constant entertainment!”

Tommy grinned. He was wanted! The huge smile remained on his face while he explained in deep detail his ideas for a new game.

They wanted him, here. He was an equal, not a burden.

His heart swelled. They cared.

Chapter Text

It was the first time since Phil had first been imprisoned in the cell that he had perfect silence. He was in close quarters with six to nine hyperactive children that constantly made noise, but they were all asleep or being experimented on (and Phil tried not to think about how innocent young children were subjected to this, because his father instincts would cause him to fly into a blind rage, which would end badly).

The only other person awake in the cell was Dream, and he craved quiet as much as Phil did. So the two sat in silence, taking in the moment that they may never experience again.

Of course, each of the children meant everything to Phil (maybe due to his wings, he had bird-like paternal instincts), but everyone needs a break from the noise.

There were only two guards posted by the cell, and while Phil didn’t ever speak to them, he wasn’t necessarily afraid of them. It was HIS choice not to speak to the guards, it wasn’t because he wasn’t allowed.

Well, he could speak to them if one addressed him first. Phil didn’t know it at the moment, but that rule was about to come into play.

Phil closed his eyes softly and took a deep breath. No whines of ‘Phiiiiiil’ or angry shouts and strings of profanities broke the peace.

“Thirteen,” a guard suddenly said, in a normal tone as opposed to the normal commanding one. “Come- uh, can you come here for a second?”

Phil stared at the guard. He was not going to just GO up to a guard for no reason, and he was suspicious of the guard’s casual attitude. They were almost… nervous.

“Hey!” the other guard whisper-yelled. “You can’t talk to them! You could be fired!”

The first guard hesitated a moment before responding. “I guess… but I just feel bad, he has to know! It feels… cruel. They’re humans, y’know? This shouldn’t be allowed.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Phil snapped, deciding not to care about not talking to the guards.

Phil was ignored, and the second guard spoke over him. “I mean… they’re not legally humans.”

“WHAT?” Phil shouted. He turned around to make sure he didn’t wake anyone up, and luckily no one stirred. The guards continued to ignore him.

“Oh, I haven’t been keeping up with the news lately, the decree passed, then?”

The second guard nodded. “That’s why it was deemed legal for… his… son and his class to come.”

“Okay, but please… don’t rat me out if I tell the prisoners. Just- I’m gonna talk with Thirteen for like five minutes, and no more.”

“Fine,” the second relented.

The first guard approached the bars and looked at Phil. “Here,” he beckoned, “come here, I’ll answer any questions that I can.”

Phil was shocked. Was someone really risking being fired to give him information? He was a little nervous about what a conversation with a guard could result in, but he kept his smooth, strong demeanor and walked over to the bars.

“Start with the decree you mentioned,” Phil demanded. “What’s that about?”

“Okay, there’s no harm in knowing this. Uh- you know about animal kingdoms and stuff?”

Phil nodded.

“So, some scientists were looking over the whole situation and they decided to strictly define humans- homo sapiens- as a being who fits into one of the main power classes. So… legally, you lot aren’t human. Making anything here- uh- not count as inhumane.”

Phil wanted to scream at this guard, he was so shocked and enraged, but he couldn’t wipe the blank look of being appalled off his face.

“Sorry,” the guard mumbled. “And before you ask- I can’t tell you about the guy who put you all in here, or anything classified. But the thing that I wanted to tell you is…”

“Spit it out,” Phil ordered, letting some of his anger seep into his tone.

“The… uh- guy who’s in charge of this whole operation- he has a son, I forget the kid’s name, he’s around ten… maybe?”

Karl’s age. Younger than everyone else.

“And once the decree passed, his son really wanted to go on a field trip to see his… uh- his father’s work… with his class.”

The guards words took a minute to sink in, and Phil didn’t immediately realize what he meant.

“A CLASS OF TEN YEAR OLDS IS-“ Phil cut himself off when he realized he was shouting.

“Yeah, this kid and his class are gonna come, they’re gonna see your cell and everything, and they might help with experiments or something. The son’s really sadistic, I’ve heard, so he might even try… uh… torture.”

Like a zoo. Like a fucking zoo. A class of ten year olds were gonna come and gawk at them and learn about them as if they were hardly sentient. The children would be able to experiment on them and even torture them because of FUCKING NEPOTISM?

“That’s fucking messed up,” Phil snapped.

“It’s not up to me…” the guard mumbled.

“You could do ANYTHING though,” Phil persisted. “If you lot all agree that this is inhumane you could stop it, you know for a fucking fact that we’re all harmless and fully sentient.”

“No, listen, I’m only telling you because I’m a religious man and if you didn’t know, it would go against my moral code. But you are mistakes, and you shouldn’t exist. You should be thanking me, and the doctors, for even letting you live! Society needs to heal, and learn, and educate our youth. Maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but to be quite frank, I don’t care. Now- don’t think about trying to speak to me again, because this was a one time thing.”

The guard walked away, and the second one followed. A split second later, three more guards took their post, and Phil noted that the shifts must have just been changing.

Phil couldn’t go back to relaxing after that interaction. He had to prepare everyone, and find some way to at least keep the children from being stared at by kids near their same ages.

Before Phil could realize that it wasn’t possible to prevent the impending circumstance, he walked over to Dream to spill everything.

Phil explained everything to Dream, who grew just as angry as Phil had.

“THAT’S WHY YOU WERE YELLING? Oh my Prime, and he told you because he’s RELIGIOUS? This- this can’t be real- it has to be some sort of- of-“

“Dream,” Phil interrupted, putting his hands on Dreams shoulder to ground and calm him. “We just have to… mentally prepare for this. But we have to try and stay calm for everyone’s sake.”

“I- sorry Phil,” Dream apologized. “I just can’t comprehend-…”

Dream frantically ran his hands through his hair and started to pull at it. Phil reached out to stop Dream before he hurt himself but Dream flinched away.

“Oh- sorry,” Dream quickly muttered, but his hands didn’t release their hold on his blonde hair.

Phil decided that it would be best to leave Dream alone, he knew that it was probably tearing Dream apart to have to grapple with the dehumanization.

“I’m gonna go wake up George and Bad,” Phil said. “We can figure out how to tell the kids, and maybe think of something… anything…”

There was nothing they could do.

Honestly, Phil felt like it was crueler that the guard had warned him in advance, because now all they could do is spiral with anxiety.

Always the protective father-figure, Phil was more worried about everyone else over himself. Their self-esteem would take huge blows, and it would embarrass them, to say the least, to be gawked at by a class of elementary schoolers on a field trip.

And if the guard was right and the schoolchildren would run their own experiments…

Phil shook his head, dispelling the horrible thoughts that would no doubt become reality.

He entered his room where Bad and George slept peacefully on their respective beds.

Phil went to George first, gently shaking him awake.

“Ph- Phil,” George mumbled groggily. Groaning, he sat up. “Why’d you wake me up?”

Phil sighed. “Can you just go over to Dream? We have to talk.”

George noticed the seriousness of Phil’s tone and obeyed, standing up and looking for Dream. When he saw Dream digging his nails into his forehead, drawing blood, he ran over to stop Dream. Phil quickly shook Bad awake and followed George over to Dream.

“Hey- Dream- stop,” George said softly. “What’s wrong? Stop hurting yourself, uh- can you breathe with me?”

Dream took in a deep breath and tremulously moved his hands onto his lap, gripping his legs tightly.

“Just tell them, Phil,” Dream murmured. Bad had stepped out of bed and walked over to the three.

“What’s wrong?” Bad asked. Dream looked up at Phil expectantly.

“Okay,” Phil sighed, and he told the whole story, explaining all his fears.

“What the fuck,” George breathed, and for once, Bad didn’t scold him. “T- that’s messed up.”

“This just happened, right?” Bad inquired, and Phil nodded. “Okay, so when do you think these kids have their trip?”

Phil shrugged. “Soon, probably. I’m just nervous to break the news to…” Phil trailed off, gesturing towards the children’s and teens’ rooms.

“How old did you say these students were?” George questioned.

“Ten,” Phil answered.

“Yeah?” Tommy asked, suddenly running to Phil’s side and staring up at him. Wait, since when was he even awake? “You called for me?”

“N- no, not Ten like you, ten like the number- or rather, the age. Ten like Karl’s age, not your number,” Dream tried to explain.

“Oh,” Tommy said. “So, why are we talking about ten year olds? Are you talking about Karl behind his back? I just woke up and heard you call me- except you didn’t- so I don’t even-“

“Tommy,” George interrupted. “You’re rambling too fast again, and to answer your question…”

“Yeah? Hurry up, I don’t have all day,” Tommy demanded, despite having all the time in the world unless he had to be experimented on.

“Toms, if you could please wake up everyone else who’s here, I have something to tell everyone,” Phil said.

Tommy shot Phil an annoyed look. “Aww- but Phil! Techno’ll kill me if I wake him up! And not everyone’s even here! Uh- let’s see- Tubbo and Niki and Wil and Karl and Purpled- they’re all… elsewhere right now.”

“I’ll help you out, Tommy,” Dream offered, getting up off the ground and wiping the blood off his face. “We’ll get everyone up and Phil can give his little announcement. And if someone’s not here right now, we’ll tell them later. Phil’s thing is just… time sensitive, and needs to be talked about sooner rather than later.” Tommy nodded, and he led Dream over to the teens’ room where Technoblade was fast asleep.

“So, how do you wanna put this, Phil?” Bad asked.

“I… I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” Phil decided. “I’ll explain the same way I did for you guys.”

“And, I know this IS a big deal,” George said, “but maybe we don’t inflate it to seem like one. What I mean is- we don’t stress about it constantly, we avoid dominating conversations with the inhumanity of the situation, y’know. If we just stay positive- oh Prime that sounds horrible- but if we just let the day brush by, it’ll be… less… yeah.”

“So you’re saying that we just- we just pretend nothing’s wrong?” Phil argued. “If we just imagine that we aren’t an exhibit for elementary schoolers, we won’t be?”

Phil was about to argue further, but Tommy sprinted up to Phil to deliver news of his success.

“Phil- Phil,” he panted, “I got everyone up, and Techno didn’t even murder me! C’mere, give your big speech!”

“Oh, Tommy,” Phil said. “It’s not a very good thing I have to tell you.”

“Oh.”

“Alright, Phil, I’m ready for your big announcement!” Sapnap exclaimed, bouncing over to Phil’s other side.

“No, Sapnap,” Tommy hissed, “it’s a bad thing!”

“Oh no,” Sapnap whispered back, “what is it?”

“I don’t know! He’s gonna tell us now!”

Phil reached where Techno and Ranboo were sitting, with Techno leaned over, half asleep, and Ranboo sitting up dutifully.

Tommy and Sapnap sat down beside Techno and looked up at Phil.

“Techie- I mean- Techno-“ Tommy sputtered, correcting his mistake as Techno snickered at him. “Phil said it’s a BAD thing.”

“Oh no,” Ranboo said.