Chapter Text
"I'm going out, Will!" Tommy called, grabbing his backpack. "See you later!" Wilbur called his goodbye from where he was sitting in his room, strumming his guitar. In Tommy's backpack was his phone, a charger, his switch, and two music discs which he wanted Tubbo to listen to.
He grabbed his bike from the garage and headed out, pedaling down the road. Tubbo's house was near the school, so he had to pass the trees where he saw the figure. Thankfully, he didn't see anyone this time. Then the screaming started.
Tommy stopped his bike, hearing it coming from the woods. There was a trail nearby, but he was stuck in his spot, to scared to go in. "HELP ME! HELP ME, I'M HURT!" The person screamed. What if something bad was happening to the person? "PLEASE, HELP ME!"
Tommy put the kickstand onto his bike so that it would stay up, before sprinting into the woods. "Where are you?!" Tommy yelled.
"This way, this way!" They screamed, and Tommy followed the voice.
Tommy had to get off the trail to follow the voice, and as he did he noticed the forest seemed to get denser. The trees grew larger, thicker, and closer together. The colors seemed to grow more vibrant, like story book trees. He stopped when he reached a clearing. There were mushrooms growing out of the ground, they looked huge and exactly like something out of a fairytale.
A man stood in the clearing. He wore a dark green hoodie with the hood up, black jeans, and long brown combat boots. There was an axe strapped to his back, that was shimmering purple. He turned, looking at Tommy. A porcelain mask hid his face, a smiley face on it.
"Tommy Innit-Soot," He said. "I'm glad to finally meet you."
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Wilbur stopped strumming his guitar, hearing his phone ring. It was Tubbo's ringtone, so he put his phone down and grabbed it. "What's up, Tubbo? Don't tell me you and Tommy started a fire again," He said, once he had answered. It only took 10 minutes to bike to Tubbo's house, and Tommy had left half an hour ago. That gave them 20 minutes to cause chaos.
"Ayup Will! Is Tommy on his way? He was suppose to be here already. He isn't answering his phone, either."
"He left half an hour ago," Wilbur said, pushing down the worry that was creeping into his voice. It might've just been his paranoia, but Wilbur couldn't stop a bad feeling from filling his chest. "Call me back if he gets there or calls you."
"Okay Will, see you," Tubbo said, and Wilbur hung up. He called Tommy once, twice, three times. There was no answer. Wilbur didn't bother putting his guitar away, he tried to jump off the bed and immediately fell over.
He grabbed a pair of his red sneakers and put them on, grabbing his beanie as he ran out the door. He sprinted down the street, going the path that Tommy used to go to Tubbo's house. "Tommy!" He screamed. As he ran, he was getting his long brown coat on, which he had grabbed on his way out.
He slowed to a stop when he saw it, Tommy's bike parked outside of the woods. "Oh fuck, oh god," Wilbur muttered, his breath quickening and his hands shaking. He could see footprints in the dirt, which he followed. Tommy hadn't followed the trail though, as the footprints turned off the trail.
"TOMMY!" He yelled "TOMMY?!" He took off, going down the slight trail that was made when the path was trampled. He barely regonized that the forest was changing around him, dead set on finding where his little brother went.
He stopped when he came across a clearing. What he noticed right away was that Tommy's backpack was on the ground, abandoned. Then he focused on the man. A man in a dark green hoodie, jeans, and boots. An axe was strapped to his back. When he turned to face Wilbur, Wilbur had gotten closer to him and immediately punched him right in the middle of his masked face. He let out a string of curses, stumbling back.
"Where the hell is Tommy?!" He yelled, pushing the man over. "What did you do to my brother?!"
He pulled his mask off, raising his hands in a surrender like motion. The man had green eyes and blonde hair, freckles littered his face. A scar ran over the bridge of his nose. "I didn't do anything!" He yelled. "I tried to protect him, I tried to save him!"
"Save him from who?" Wilbur asked, taking a step back.
"You won't believe me," The man said, getting up. "My name is Dream."
"I don't care, tell me what happened."
Dream sighed. "Have you ever heard of the idea that there are multiple realities? Well, there are. The realities are layered. Think of a wedding cake, it's like that. We're in the 3rd reality."
"How do you expect me to believe you?" Wilbur snarled. "Prove it, asshole!"
"I can't yet, unless you let me finish explaining," Dream replied, grabbing his mask and putting it back on. "He was taken to the 1st reality, where there's magic. The rules aren't like here, they're a bit messed up. It's like Alice in Wonderland but not. I can prove it to you, I swear." Dream took the axe from his back, and with skill, threw it at one of the trees. It cut halfway through the trunk, and Wilbur gasped as it burst into flames.
"See? Can an axe from your realm do that?" Dream asked.
"Who...who took him?" Wilbur whispered, staring at him.
"It was Death herself," Dream said. "She's a horrible, twisted woman with a void replacing her heart. She takes people from all realities, there are 10 of them, so she can make them as bitter as her before killing them."
"How do I help him? I have to save him!" Wilbur cried, on the verge of tears.
"Death has only one person she can love, and it's her angel. The Angel of Death. A long, long time ago, she gave him wings. If you can get his wings, you can bargain them for your brother back. It's dangerous though Wilbur, you shouldn't do it."
"I'd do anything to get him back, anything!"
"He has a friend though, The Blood God. He'll kill you before you can get near him. He isn't an actual god, but he's one of the best fighters that reality has to offer."
"Then I'd just have to stop him first."
Dream crossed his arms, staring into Wilbur's soul with those dotted eyes on his mask. "Your serious?"
"I'd do whatever it takes, whatever it takes to get him back," Wilbur said, and he meant every word. He'd fight god for his brother, so why not fight an angel? He wasn't very religious, but it had to be easier.
Dream sighed and nodded. "Alright. Good luck Wilbur Soot, you'll need it." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, everything went completely black. Just as he slipped into unconsciousness, he noted that he never told Dream his name.