Chapter Text
Tommy ran. Running frantically like this wasn’t unfamiliar to him, he already knew the sharp breath he’s after me he’s going to kill me- and the please I need backup I need help- and of course, the good ol’ everyone is running everything is hurting why is no one helping we need help why can’t Wilbur think of something-
But this time it’s a bit different. This time he can’t exactly remember how to make a cocky smile, confident and proud, masking his pure almost animalistic fear of dying. He wasn’t making sure to keep everyone around rolling their eyes at his antics anymore, because there wasn’t anyone with him this time, and Dream doesn’t count, and Ghostbur never really needed a reassuring smile, not really. He doesn’t yell his anger out, or hide behind someone older, or considers who is less likely to help him and to not get killed in the process.
No. This time, he runs alone. No Tubbo, no Wilbur, no l’manberg to run to or from. No discs, no exact or real destination. Even when they were first exiled Wilbur was leading him on, giving him orders to where set up camp, and they never really ventured off too far from l’manberg. No, this time there was no destination, no one to follow along to safety, no place to return to, no l’manberg to return to. With one fucking shoe on his feet and rags more then clothes on his body, the only thing that feels even slightly familiar to his situation was the same green fucking psycho on his tail.
Well, not exactly. He was pretty sure Dream thought he was still in logstedshire. But he knew it wouldn’t take him long to catch up to him eventually. Dream was fast, terrifyingly so. And he knew with every remaining bit of his fucking sense, (that he hadn’t left behind in logstedshire or l’manberg that is) that Dream is crazy enough to try and chase him and drag him back.
So he ran. He chose a direction and told himself to never fucking stop until his legs feel like they’re going to fall off. No, he doesn’t know where he’s going. No, he doesn’t know what he’s searching for. Shelter? A home? Maybe help? It seemed too risky, so fuck that. He shouldn’t think of resting or slowing down right now anyways. Or about leaving l’manberg behind him. Or his discs. Or Tubbo. Fuck, Tubbo. He can’t recall the memories, because memories bring flashbacks, and he can’t afford to have a panic attack right now. He twisted his face at the mere thought of his flashbacks.
Flashbacks always led to black walls, chests, a single button, the lingering smell of ash and smoke they brought with them here from the blown up surface, and the tapping wet noise their feet made, still wet from swimming in the lake that protected them from the explosion, the sudden noise of pistons and slime coming from the walls around them, and laughter, they laughed, he laughed as a green dictator madman slashed him across the chest twice, he laughed as he said that stupid phrase, “ Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be. ” The sharp object in his chest making his breath hitch and stop breathing-
Tommy shook himself out of the flashback, and continued running, focusing on running, running for his life, running from the place he’ll surely meet his death in if he won’t stop running, he knows dream will kill him he knows he will just like he did-
The air was still, so heavy and almost completely silent. Everyone was on high alert with adrenaline pumping in their blood, and Wilbur’s voice cut the silence in half as Tommy readied his bow with shaking fingers but steady arms, focusing on the mask of the man he hated, the man he thought to be good and funny and- and welcoming, and he wasn’t, he killed him, and he was so much more of a bastard then he thought a person could be- “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six-“
No. No, focus on running, the surroundings, the pain in his leg and chest, anything other then the memories-
Items in the hole Tommy. We’re friends! Best friends even. Don’t make it harder then it should be. Come on Tommy. I’ve been generous to you, and this is how you repay me? Maybe they just don’t care about you. You light it today. I’m your only friend-
He grit his teeth, shaking the memories off. And just as his eyes became less cloudy, more focused on the present, Tommy suddenly noticed something behind the thick forest that was on the right of the path he was running on. Squinting, he recognised the familiar dark hew and shape of a nether portal, and the red tinted ground surrounding it. Hope, shallow and small but hope nonetheless, flickered in his chest as he hurried his steps towards the ruined portal, hoping. He hoped for anything useful, any items left in a chest, like a sword, or an axe, even some coal would be something .
Now standing in front of the portal, he felt unsure. His fight or flight instincts were flaring slightly, and he felt as if the portal was almost off compared to other ones. He couldn’t see it clearly from afar, eyes withstanding white blasts, big and small explosions, fireworks and TNT making his world tilt and shake and blinding him as all he could hear was a loud and annoying ringing in his ears- but now he noticed that all the obsidian was oddly in the right place, yet all of it was crying obsidian. The top piece looked off, more dripping then the others, and he raised his eyebrows as he noticed an eye of ender placed in the middle of it, like a gem on a crown.
Attempting to shake off his uncertainty, (he always had to, it was jump the jump and hope you made it or get yourself killed) he looked around the portal and spotted too chests. He approached the first one, before doing a double take and blinked in surprise.
It was an ender chest. The first thought that comes to mind is that someone must have been here and placed it, but then he noticed the chest looked off too. It looked dusty, the iron looked rusty from time and rain, and the obsidian had small pretty carvings on it with gold and is that netherite?! Making the chest look more like it was made a century ago then the last few years.
Curious, he opened it. He was slightly disappointed to find his usual stuff in it, but he was still happy to find something so old looking. Maybe he could sell it to some antique show in a village, or some rich villager that has enough money to waste it on anything of value.
He grabbed the chest and put in his inventory, and turned towards the other chest, all while ignoring the purple portal next to him, as it was still seriously giving him some weird vibes. This chest was a regular one, if not a little rusty and mossy. “Holy shit.” He whispered as he opened the chest with a loud dusty “creeek!” And stared in awe at the inside. He could have cried at what the chest contained, suddenly glad he spotted the most stupidly old looking portal in the world with the most stupidity large amounts of loot a ruined portal could have.
The chest contained an iron sword enchanted with flame , (Just at the sight of the familiar runes he wanted to burst into tears of joy) a golden axe with a handle made out of iron covered with, again, netherite , a golden block and two golden ingots, a pair of flint and steel, and six very large sticks of what looked like Crimson and Warped trees. There was some things he didn’t actually expect to be there, like the three ender pearls, the two blaze rods, one ghast tear, and one enchanted book he didn’t recognise, as it looked old enough to fall apart in his hands.
Shrugging and deciding he didn’t have anything of worth on him anyway, he began taking everything out of the chest, leaving some of the dirt and blocks he had with him in the old creaking chest to clear his inventory from the unuseful junk. He even took the wooden sticks, the wood smelling of magic and feeling warm in his hands, his gut telling him he’ll probably need them later.
Finally satisfied at the results of his looting, he began walking away from the ruins. But he hesitated as he looked at the portal on his way to keep running. What is this portal anyway? Why is it so different? With how old it is, surely it should have fallen apart by now? But it looks complete, standing tall in it’s normal, square, portal-like shape. While the obsidian was dripping with old magic, it was solid in place. Surely, he thought with blooming curiosity, he can’t light it. Surely it doesn’t work.
Making his way back to the portal, he grabbed the flint and steel from his hot bar. The portal was really wet, more dripping with magic then he remembers crying obsidian usually is. And what was the purpose of the eye of ender? To add to the power of the portal? To stop it from falling apart or breaking unexpectedly? Just for show? He licked his lips. This seemed dangerous. He should be running, he should be finding shelter and items. He wasn’t doing any of that. This looked too dangerous, too strange, too much of an adventure to back away and keep running.
He lit the portal. Purple energy dripped from the bottom, the crying obsidian shining with magic and power. Tommy took a step back, his breath hitching in awe. This was sick . Suddenly filled with a rush of excitement, he almost jumped inside the portal.
He immediately regrets it.
Everything is blurry, spinning, and he can’t seem to get a grip of anything. The magic is bursting inside of him, and when he opens his eyes he sees flashes of places and people he’s never seen, and he isn’t sure are real.
A kid with green hair, freckles and a determined plain face fighting another with blond spiky hair, a pissed expression and unique clothes, one of them creating explosions from their hands while the other was dodging, debris falling all around them as they fight-
A yellow creature with stretching limbs and a white hooded kid wearing a blue shirt were fighting a blue man with a long beard and a golden crown, ice pillars all around them, a pink woman running towards the kid and the yellow creature with a determined expression on her face as the blue old man screams in anger-
(It was spinning he was spinning what was happening)
It looked like a short kid with a bob hair cut and a bandaged arm holding a stick, standing in front of a flower with a disturbing looking smile, the two of them having a conversation in a cave, the flower’s smile was so disturbing, too familiar too unkind-
A yellow triangle with a bow tie and a top hat turning a middle aged looking man into gold, laughing and laughing and it’s so terrifying and so similar to-
(Why can’t he see, he feel’s sick and he can see these places what are these places)
He sees a teenager with a starburst scar on his forehead and red hair c arrying a big wooden box on his back, walking alongside a loud masked individual and a blond kid in a large field all relaxed and-
He sees this raven haired kid and with a red hat throwing some red and white ball at something, he couldn’t see what. A yellow mouse? Cat? Bunny? Was standing on his shoulder, and he was grinning with determination and confidence, so sure of himself and with such innocents-
(Where is he what is happening who are these people)
There is a blue creature that has spiky fur on his head and back, running at full speed with a mischievous grin, he saluted to a fat man with a moustache sitting in a crumbling Machine behind him-
He sees a demon looking thing fighting two cup headed kids, the cups firing magic bullets out of their fingers as the demon cried in pain-
(Please stop I just need this to stop -)
Stumbling, the spinning stopped, and he took too steps forward until he collapsed in front a raven haired kid, with a thin, red and fresh looking scar resembling lightning on his forehead, and big black and round glasses. The last thing he thinks before he passes out is how the floor feels too concrete-like to be nether warts, and how he should probably get up and start running because Dream is still…… after…..
TommyInnit left the game.
<Tubbo_> what.
<JackManifoldTV> WHAT THE SHIT?!
<Ranboo> how- why- is that even possible?
<ItsFundy> but where is the death message????
<Skeppy> How???? Did they open the exit option???
<Awesamedude> maybe he got invited to some event we haven’t heard of? Dream? Callahan?
<Tubbo_> Dream?
<Nihachu> Dream? Callahan?
<Ph1LzA> that shouldn’t be possible- did he glitch out of the world or something? Callahan?
<Quackity> Callahan?
<Callahan> there isn’t supposed to be a way to glitch out of the server, but I’m checking it out. I’ll fix it and let Tommy come back in a minute.
<Ranboo> oh thank ender…
<Dream> update me. I’ll be checking the code too, see what’s the problem.
<ItsFundy> I can’t leave, how did he do that?!
<Dream> don’t try to leave. We’ll fix this in a minute.
<Callahan> something’s wrong. The glitch fixed itself, and I can’t find Tommy’s code.
<Tubbo_> what do you mean you can’t find his code?!
<Dream> Callahan. Where is Tommy?
<Callahan> I genuinely don’t know. He just left. I found his last coordinates, but it’s just a small crater next to a forest. It looks recent, but I don’t know what happened.
<Nihachu> creeper or TNT?
<Tubbo_> creeper? TNT?
<Callahan> that’s the thing. It doesn’t smell like gunpowder, and it’s too big for a creeper and too weird looking to be TNT. It mostly looks like magic.
<Quackity> when did he get the time to kill a wither and blow himself up?
<Dream> he shouldn’t be able to.
<Quackity> the fuck? Why not?
<Dream> he was trying to come back to l’manberg through the nether. I had to block his portal.
<Callahan> but that can’t be right. His last coordinates are at least a thousand blocks away from where he’s staying. he had to travel through the nether.
<Dream> I’m coming to you, send me cords in private.
<JackManifoldTV> what the fuck is happening