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Tommy felt himself dying, this was death, he knew it. And this is how he dies? Beaten to a bloody mangled pulp, barely recognisable as a human being, all by Dream. It always just had to be Dream didn't it? It was always him, always that roach of a person.
It was sad really, but in the moment, as his vision began fading in and out, Tommy felt a semblance of.. Peace. He was dying but… at least now he could rest, no more war, nor more heroism, no more tales of Theseus, just rest. Rest sounded so good, finally being able to leave behind all of the pain of living and just sleep.
Tommy wondered what awaited him on the other side, maybe he would see Wilbur again, and MD, hell maybe even Shlatt. That didn’t seem so bad, Shlatt was pretty cool until he went dictator, Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if that they had been mostly Dream’s fault. He did it to Will and Tubbo too. Dream had a knack for bringing out the worst in people.
Time was moving so slowly… all Tommy could feel was numb as his broken skull leaked blood and maybe brain out onto the black obsidian, Tommy was pretty sure Dream was still kicking him, but Tommy couldn't even flinch, he was just… so tired.
Is this how Wilbur felt? When he died? When he had his own father stab him through the chest, or maybe how Shlatt felt when he realized he wasn't going to survive that stroke? How did MD feel when Dream shot him? Was it like this?
Huh, all of those deaths had been so… poetic, so larger than life, or death he supposed. And here Tommy was, being beaten by a green man weilding a potato in a horrible claustrophobic box. How pathetic. Tommy always was the lesser of them all, even in death it seemed.
Oh well, no point now. Tommy supposed he could die happy, there was still so much to do but at least, in the end, he won over Dream. Because there was absolutely no way Dream was ever being allowed visitors or ANYTHING ever again after this, nobody could excuse Dream after this. He hoped Sam didn’t blame himself to much…
Huh, so this is death.
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Tommy opened his eyes.
His arms didnt work, why not? What..?
Red..? why when Tommy looked behind himself did he see so much red? It looked so fuzzy… and soft, What… was Happening?
“Wormmy?”
What. Did that voice- did that voice just call Tommy a worm??
“Wormmy, wake up.”
Wait.. That’s DREAM’S voice! What the ever loving-
“Wake up!”
Tommy felt himself be nudged by something long and spindly, it felt weird, like really weird, and Tommy shot up, or wait flopped up? He- he HE HAD NO ARMS OH HES JUST A FUZZY SNAKE WHAT THE FU-
“You awake?”
Tommy’s head snapped over to the voice and he screamed, loudly, because HOLY CRAP WHY WAS DREAM A GIANT COCKROACH?!!
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So, a quick recount. Tommy, or… Wormmy? Had woken up as a fuzzy little red… worm thing, and found himself staring down Dream, except Dream was a ROACH. That freaked him out, that definitely freaked him out. Prime… This was insane.
Wormmy was freaking out, rightfully so in his opinion, and Roach Dream ended up coming to the conclusion that Wormmy had become an amnesiac because of the- the resurrection. Wormmy decided to just go with it, not wanting to seem crazier then he felt like he was going.
Apparently, in this strange, strange STRANGE world, everyone was a worm. Not just any kind of worm though! Oh no no no. one of those STUPID worms on a string, one of those silly toys you got at the dollar store ore something. Well, everyone except Dream, who, as aforementioned, was a giant fucking cockroach.
God what even was Wormmy- Tommy- Wormmy’s? TORMMY’S?? LIFE???
Being picked up by Awesam..worm, was so weird. Apparently Wormmy had a rare condition in which he was born without a string, so… that was… weird. God weird could just be the Title of Wormmy’s autobiography at this point.
Meeting everyone else was just as strange, Wormmy had to keep the whole “amnesiac” act up as he attempted to move about in his strange wiggly body, going about meeting everyone again.
Tubbo was Tubworm, Technoblade was Technoworm, Niki Niachu? Niki Wormachu, GeorgeNotFound? WormNotFound. Philza? Wormza, and the list went on and on. Everyone seemed to receive new worm names, except for Ponk and Karl, they seemed to keep their names. Lucky guys they were.
Navigating this world was just.. So so strange. The Egg was still a thing, worshiped still by BadBoyWorm and Wormz along with their allies in Ponk and others. But the thing was… the egg was… well, it was a giant hard boiled egg. Wormmy could tell, but… it still talked, and that was just strange. So very very strange.
It all felt like some fever dream, some very trippy fever dream. Or maybe a nightmare. It was probably more of a nightmare.
And he was right, because Tommy woke up, in his own bed in his dirt hutt, with arms and legs.
(Shhhh Chess peice I did give him legs don’t go changin my stuffz, I didn’t forget you dirty liar.)