Chapter Text
My Endermen have lain to rest, and never shall they rise,
‘Til the day this world shall reach its end, its people their demise.
— Endscript poem fragment
Tubbo woke to something cold and wet lapping at him. He sat up abruptly.
There was an inch of water in his cell.
Great. Just fantastic. There wasn’t any furniture in the room, so now there was nowhere dry to sit.
Tubbo seriously considered laying back down and giving up on life, but the water was actually really cold, and he wasn’t so divorced from reality that he could ignore it. Begrudgingly, he climbed to his feet, his waterlogged shoes squelching, and he leaned against the wall.
Just to spite him, the soaked portion of his hair dripped down his neck and under his shirt, sending ice-cold trails down his back. Tubbo closed his eyes and slumped against the drywall. How long until someone remembered him again? Surely this was a broader problem in the building, right, so they’d have to fix it at some point? He wondered what must be going on on the other side of the door. It was sealed pretty tight for a door, with only the crack at the bottom letting water in. Must be a nasty spill of something, if that much had made it in here and was staying. Was the whole building flooded?
His feet were beginning to numb with the cold at this point. It almost reminded him of that freezing cold from up in the abandoned cities, the way that it had slipped under his layers of clothing and numbed his body anyway. He supposed that made sense; he was standing in cold water up to his ankles.
Wait, was the water level higher than before?
Tubbo swallowed and tried hard to think back. He was being paranoid, right?
No, this much water would definitely have gotten in his nose and mouth when he was lying down.
Tubbo scrambled for the door and yanked at the knob. It was an impulse, really, the terror of a boy who knew he was going to die. He could already feel that terrible sinking feeling in his gut that told him this was the end.
The door swung open. Slowly, as if facing mild resistance, but it opened. Tubbo stared at it blankly for a few seconds. There was no way. Nothing ever went right for him.
Then he registered that he should probably run while he got the chance. No sense expecting his luck to last.
He genuinely had no idea where he was. Clearly, it was some old house re-outfitted for Schlatt’s use after Doomsday, but Tubbo didn’t recognize the hallway that was now slowly filling with water. He didn’t stop to sightsee, though, just waded as quickly as he could manage through the water until he could find the exit.
A few turns and doorways later, and he was stepping outside, ready to leave the weird water problem behind forever. One small issue with that: there was even more water outside, and suddenly it was halfway up his shins.
Tubbo glanced around. Surely there was a source? Where could this much water come from? It wasn’t like a tsunami or anything, so he didn’t think it could climb much higher, even though it was still rising. He just needed to find a dry spot a few feet up and wait it out. Maybe a rooftop? Was that too extreme? Probably, but it didn’t hurt to be careful, and there would be the added bonus that Schlatt’s lackeys couldn’t get at him if they decided to return any time soon.
But the ruins from Doomsday had mostly been cleared out of this part of the city. All he could see were houses in various states of disrepair, no roofs with easy access.
Tubbo waded further down the street. The water was definitely flowing, but it was hard to tell what direction; he’d stumble backwards due to a particularly strong tug at his feet only to be buffeted forwards again. It wasn’t all that strong yet; but it seemed like there was some loose debris under his feet that kept shifting around, unbalancing him, and the water was nearly level with his knees.
It was rising steadily now, and as he walked along, Tubbo found that it was getting harder to stand upright or move consistently in one direction. The warring currents only seemed to get wilder.
Tubbo grimaced and made for the nearest building. He had to clutch the porch railing to stay standing at all.
The water was halfway up his thighs now. Tubbo swallowed. The house across the street looked like it had two stories. Maybe if he made it up the stairs, he could climb out a window onto the roof. Surely that would be high enough, right?
He looked at the river forming between him and his destination. The surface of the water was rough with small, powerful waves. He was not looking forward to this. He couldn’t afford to deliberate any longer.
Tubbo braced himself and shoved the porch away from him. He was fairly strong for his size, and he actually managed to force himself some distance before the momentum wore off.
Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the river, water rushing at him from all sides, swirling around him and pounding at his legs, and it was all Tubbo could do to keep his knees from buckling. He swore distractedly, and some undercurrent swept his feet out from under him.
It dragged him a ways down the street, left him spluttering and gasping for breath before another wave scooped him up, spun him around, and slammed him into something hard that made him gasp and choke on water. Something collided with his stomach, so he clung on for dear life in the hopes that it was vaguely buoyant, and he tried to keep his head above water as he was violently tossed around.
He was slammed into several walls, one after the other, and Tubbo cursed the fact that he was surrounded by buildings. His head ached. His lungs burned. At some point, he was spun around until he was sickeningly dizzy. He might have lost consciousness somewhere in there, too, he wasn’t sure: all was a mass of violence and confusion until something caught his arm and tugged, and he wondered half-deliriously whether he’d be torn in two.
And then he was flung over something long and thin and hard, spluttering and desperately trying to grasp his surroundings.
A tree, he eventually registered once everything stopped spinning and he could breathe again. He was bent over a tree branch, staring blankly at his dangling limbs and the raging flood waters a few feet below him. Feebly, he tried to sit up and immediately lost his balance.
“Watch it!” Someone gripped the back of his shirt, nearly choking him. “I didn’t nearly drown just to watch you dive back in.”
With the guiding hand, Tubbo was able to sit up and slump back against the tree trunk to assess the situation properly.
But no. It was just as he’d thought. Somehow, he’d ended up in a tree with Jack Manifold of all people. How exactly was a blur, but Tubbo knew it wouldn’t last: they were clearly lodging in the highest branches that could hold their weight, and the water was still coming, only feet away from their perch.
Tubbo decided to just take a minute and close his eyes and breathe. Maybe his head would clear, and he could reassess.
He opened his eyes. Nope! Still the same nightmare! Why was he even surprised?
Jack didn’t seem quite as worse for wear as Tubbo, probably because he had had a chance to run to higher ground before the flood got dangerous. Not that Tubbo was bitter or anything. (He absolutely was.)
“So what now?” Jack wondered aloud, as if Tubbo was supposed to know.
“We’re going to die,” Tubbo deadpanned.
Jack shot him an irritated look. “With that attitude, yeah. This is why no one wanted you around anymore, man.”
Tubbo seriously considered shoving him out of the tree.
“Oh, is that why you all left me for dead?” he griped instead.
“Good riddance, I say,” Jack muttered under his breath.
“Do you want to get shoved out of this tree?” Tubbo snarled.
Jack scowled right back. “Great way to thank me for pulling you out of a whirlpool, that is.”
“Maybe I’d rather drown than be stuck with you. Ever thought of that?”
“Oi!” Jack glared. “You want out, be my guest.” He waved a hand at their impending doom. “But this was my tree first, and I’m planning to surv—” He broke off suddenly and went very pale, staring at something over Tubbo’s shoulder.
“What, giving up already?” Tubbo mocked. “You didn’t even get to finish your sentence.” He turned to follow Jack’s gaze.
There was pretty much nothing but choppy waters as far as the eye could see. A few trees managed to poke through the water, but even as Tubbo watched, one swayed and snapped in two, and the current swept it away. That wasn’t what Jack was looking at, though.
The sun was setting, the last of the orange fading from the sky as night shifted its hue to something closer to violet. In the fading afterglow, dark shapes stood out on the horizon. Humanoid, but so far away they must have been massive in size. Tubbo couldn’t see them clearly, but he immediately knew what they were. It hit home suddenly, what he’d really known all along. This was actually happening.
“W-what is that?” Jack whispered.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Tubbo bit out. “Those are Enderman. The world’s ending, Jack.”
“ Endermen aren’t real, Tubbo,” Jack whispered. “Right?” He sounded uncertain.
Tubbo didn’t bother with a reply, just watched the distant shapes grow larger and larger. They must’ve been moving fast, which made sense given how big they were. Within minutes, their squarish heads were clearly visible, along with their disproportionately long limbs.
Behind him, Jack laughed nervously. “This isn’t real,” he muttered. “There’s no way those things are real. There’s no way . . .”
Something about it struck Tubbo as funny, and he laughed too, harsher and more hysterical.
“I already told you, it’s over. We’re going to die here. And you know what?” Tubbo grinned bitterly at him. “I’m glad. I’m sick of this world. Nothing matters, no one cares. Might as well end it, right?” He laughed again, and Jack stared at him in horror.
Jack exhaled slowly, and when he spoke, it was calmer, resigned. “I’m stuck in a tree with a madman, watching the world end.” And he looked so done that Tubbo just laughed harder, nearly losing his balance. He had to double over and clutch his branch for several minutes while he caught his breath.
The Endermen were upon them now, and Tubbo was struck silent again with the reminder of just how big they were. Tubbo had sat comfortably in the dip of one’s palm, its fingers as long as he was tall. But seeing them from a distance was a different experience entirely. The flood waters didn’t even reach their knees. They looked like they were casually wading through a shallow stream.
And there were so many. There must have been twenty or so Enderman strolling along at what appeared to be a casual pace for them, with their long legs.
One glanced in their direction, and Tubbo froze. Next to him, he heard Jack’s soft, strained breathing. But the giant’s eyes flickered past them, and Tubbo realized it must have been focusing on something beyond them. Maybe it just didn’t notice them in the tree with how comparatively small they were. There wasn’t much light left anyway.
Then a massive shadow fell over them. “Can I pick you up?” rumbled a low, almost staticky voice.
Tubbo whipped around so fast he nearly fell out of the tree. There was an Enderman leaning over them, little glowing particles trailing behind it as it knelt to get a better look at them. Unlike the last Enderman Tubbo had seen, its eyes were fully open.
Its massive hand stretched out towards them. Hovering, but not too close. “Please?” it said, oddly innocent.
Safe and sound. Gentle swaying and a low staticky purr.
He felt cold water brush his feet.
“Sure,” said Tubbo without thinking.
The Enderman grinned so wide that its mouth spanned the width of its squarish head. It was kind of horrifying and kind of fascinating. Then its massive hand came down, and Tubbo realized exactly what he’d agreed to. His stomach dropped, and he felt the familiar sensation of his limbs locking up with terror.
“Are you insane?” Jack yelped, audibly scrambling backward as the giant scooped up his only companion. “G-get away from me!”
The massive hand was so very gentle as it lifted Tubbo with two fingers, firmly but not too hard, and he was placed carefully in a large scaly palm.
There was a sharp crack and a terrible cry behind him, followed by a splash. When Tubbo glanced back, several tree branches appeared to have broken off. Jack was nowhere to be found.
The merciless flood continued to roll and roil, choppy waves crossing its surface in increasing sizes. Tubbo knew that if he were still adrift out there, he’d have very little chance at surviving now. He swallowed and averted his gaze.
The Enderman was standing up now, lifting him close to its face. In an odd way, it felt nostalgic. Weird as it was, Tubbo had missed this. So why was he shaking?
The giant peered down at him, cowering in its hand. “I saw you in a dream, I think,” it murmured. “I think I forgot my manners then. Sorry about that! I’m Ranboo. Do you have a name, human?”
Tubbo looked up nervously at it—him? Tubbo didn’t know how to tell Endermen apart from—from Enderwomen? He didn’t know, and he did not have the brain cells to figure that out right now.
“T-Tubbo,” he managed. “Uh, my name’s Tubbo.” His voice was a wreck, though how much of that was terror versus nearly drowning six times was hard to tell.
Ranboo tilted his head. “Are you afraid of me, Tubbo?”
“Uh, yeah?” Tubbo swallowed and tried to stop shaking. “You’re kind of huge, bossman. And you just picked me up? And the world’s kind of ending?”
The giant blinked at him and then looked back down with renewed seriousness at the floodwaters, which were swallowing up smaller trees at this point, as if he was only just realizing that these circumstances might be a problem. Then again, to him they were a shallow brook, so Tubbo supposed it made sense.
The Enderman turned his gaze back to Tubbo, looking oddly apologetic. “Don’t worry, Tubbo,” he said seriously. “You’re safe with me. Oh!” He lit up—literally, his eyes glowed brighter and more purple-y. “Hey, Tubbo, do you want to sing with us at the world’s end?”
Well. There was a lot to unpack there, but Tubbo wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. If it meant he stayed with the gentle giant and not on the ground, though, it seemed like a good option.
“Uh, sure? Sounds great, bossman.”
The Enderman beamed, and Tubbo was treated to his unsettling grin once again. “Okay! We should catch up with the group then.”
Tubbo yelped at the jolt as his ride abruptly strode forward at a much faster pace than he had previously experienced.
Ranboo giggled at the sound and tucked Tubbo against his chest, as if this were a perfectly normal reaction. “Don’t worry, Tubbo, I am very good at carrying humans. I’ll keep you safe!”
“That does not make me feel better!” Tubbo shrieked, and the Enderman laughed merrily and slowed.
Taking a shaky breath, Tubbo lifted his face from where it had been pressed against the long, scaly finger he’d been clinging to for dear life, only to find himself surrounded by Endermen. They’d caught up with the group.
One of the Endermen glanced over as Ranboo caught up.
“Did you make a friend, Boo?” he asked, eyeing the way the Enderman held his hands against his chest.
“Mhm!” Ranboo cupped his hands around Tubbo and held him up, showing him off like he was some precious treasure.
The other Enderman blinked down at him. “Hello, are you going to sing with us?”
Tubbo swallowed. What had he gotten himself into? “U-um, yes,” he managed. “If that’s okay?”
The Enderman’s face split into a wide grin. “It will be nice to sing with humans again.” He lifted a hand, and Tubbo flinched, but the giant merely patted him lightly on the head with a finger. “See you later, small friend.” He waved at Ranboo. “Bye, Boo.” Then he pressed on into the crowd, which was still moving forward at a steady pace.
“Bye, Edward!” said Ranboo. And then, looking down, “He’s nice, isn’t he, Tubbo?”
“Uh.” Tubbo blinked slowly. The amount of control it took for a being of that size to tap him so lightly and not crush his head . . . how could a being like that exist in the same world as people like Schlatt? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t understand. What dream had he wandered into? “Y-yeah. Yeah, he’s cool.”
He looked around at all the giants walking together, and now that he was paying attention, he could see their posture, the way they didn’t seem to mind crowding together, the way many hands were linked or flung around shoulders or patting each other on the head, causing the recipient to squint and nuzzle into the gesture. The more Tubbo looked, the less inhuman the Endermen seemed. It, well, it almost looked like—
“Is this your haunting?” he asked quietly.
Ranboo must have had sharp ears, because he tilted his head. “My what?”
“That’s, like, an Enderman family, right?” Tubbo frowned. “That’s what the stories always say.”
“I’ve never heard that term,” Ranboo mused. “But yeah! This is my family. Edward is my brother. And that’s Mama and Papa, and there’s Aimsey . . .” All the Endermen he gestured to kind of looked the same to Tubbo, but Ranboo seemed to know them all intimately, and the Enderman’s clear delight brought a smile to Tubbo’s face.
Ranboo paused halfway through his introductions. “You’re thinking about something,” he observed, surprising Tubbo. He hadn't thought that the Enderman would be that astute, though he didn’t know why he was surprised anymore. It seemed that Endermen knew much more about humans than vice versa.
“Well,” Tubbo said slowly, “there are a lot of tales about Endermen, but most of them aren’t very nice. Kind of seems like our ancestors didn’t want us to like you very much. I wonder if the term haunting came from that? Like, trying to make you sound creepy, you know?”
Ranboo hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard a human in the city use that term,” he said. “I think they used to call groups of us embassies, since our ancestors came down from the End. That was long before I was born, though. I just know ‘cause the Dragon told me.”
“The Dragon?” Tubbo squeaked. He’d never heard of such a creature, but something about the way Ranboo said its name told him this was not a being to be taken lightly. Reverence. Yes, that was the term. What kind of being would these giants revere?
“Oh, you’ve probably never met him, huh?” Ranboo mused. “I was very small then, and you’re smaller than me. Literally and figuratively!” He giggled. “You should have seen Him. He was magnificent. Everything was much better back then. You really missed out, Tubbo.”
“Is he not around anymore, then?” Tubbo asked. Not a question he would ever have thought logical, but the Endermen were still around, clearly.
Ranboo’s mood dropped. “No, Tubbo,” he whispered, and he looked so sad that Tubbo was compelled to reach out and pat his scales.
“I’m sorry,” Tubbo whispered, even though he didn’t know what he was sorry for.
Ranboo smiled, though not as brightly as before. “It’s okay, Tubbo. Even when they feel bad in the moment, all things work for good in this world.”
Normally, that statement would have made Tubbo bitterly angry, but now, he just felt tired. Worn out. “I’m not sure I believe that, bossman.”
Ranboo looked down at him, and in the dim glow of his eyes, Tubbo saw his brow furrow. “I know it’s hard to believe sometimes,” the Enderman said softly. “I’m not discounting your suffering, Tubbo. You were very afraid when I found you. You’re still afraid, I think, though not as much. But you know, it’s very hard for Endermen to see humans on the ground. If you had not been in that tree, I would never have seen you, and you wouldn’t have gotten to come with us. In fact, there’s a very real chance one of us would have stepped on you by accident, especially since it’s getting dark. But that’s not something you need to worry about anymore. I’ll take care of you now, okay?”
They fell silent after that. Ranboo seemed to get the sense that Tubbo wasn’t interested in discussing the matter further because the Enderman didn’t pry, just held Tubbo close in what seemed to be an effort to comfort. Tubbo just sat back and tried to enjoy the journey and not think too much about where they were going. He was tired of thinking. He was so tired.
The sun had long set, but the Endermen left a trail of glowing particles wherever they went, so the world seemed to take on their dim purple glow. At some point, the full moon rose, casting its silvery reflection on the restless water. It felt, well, magical. Maybe not quite real. But Tubbo couldn’t find it in himself to question its reality. He felt he’d never been more certain of anything than the scaly hand cupped around him, swaying to a steady gait, and Ranboo’s soft “Hello, moon!” It almost felt like everything that had come before this was the dream, and this was his first moment in the waking world. That didn’t make any sense, but it was the only way he could think to describe it.
It was weird watching the world whip by beneath him. With their long legs, Endermen could move fast. Tubbo didn’t know where he was anymore, and most of what he could make out was water now, still steadily rising.
The Endermen didn’t seem bothered at all, though. True to his word, Ranboo did not drop Tubbo, nor was the ride entirely unpleasant for his small passenger. Tubbo rode with him into the mountains, up, up, up to a great mountain that seemed to brush heaven itself. When they arrived, they found a crowd of Endermen already at work as the water continued to rise at their heels.
Along the way, Tubbo had seen the Endermen picking up stones, great chunks of earth the size of houses as if they were nothing. Even Ranboo had tucked a few under his arm with his free hand. Now, Tubbo learned what these stones were for. In neat coordination, as if they’d done it a thousand times, the Endermen set about building a new tower as the floodwaters roared below, rising steadily to meet them.
By the time the first wave lapped at the tower’s base, they were already ascending their massive staircase of a building. Even as he casually passed giant rocks to the builders ahead of him, Ranboo kept Tubbo safely in one hand where he could poke his head out and see the pale glow of the full moon growing brighter as the earth fell away behind them. Tubbo didn’t know whether to be horrified by the destruction in their wake, entranced by the ethereal beauty before him, or unsettled by the otherworldliness of it all. He settled for awestruck.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“The End,” said the Enderman, as if nothing was more obvious. He’d used that term before, but it was still meaningless to Tubbo.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Ranboo hummed. “I’ve never been there. But we shall see. Good things always come from heaven, Tubbo.”
Despite himself, Tubbo felt that familiar fear creep in again, and he couldn’t help but ask, “A-are you sure about that?”
Ranboo paused his climb and looked down at Tubbo, brow furrowed. “Do you want me to put you down? You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“What?” Tubbo yelped, terror flooding him. “N-no! Don’t leave me!” He clutched at a scaly finger. He still didn’t know what he was signing up for, but there was no turning back now.
Ranboo perked up. “Oh. Okay, then! Yes, I’m sure.”
“I’ll, uh, take your word for it, bossman,” Tubbo squeaked.
They continued, the Endermen building under their feet as they went, climbing through the void between heaven and earth like it was what they were born to do. The thought entered Tubbo’s head that maybe they were, and it said a lot about his situation that he couldn’t even come up with a cynical response for himself.
The moon grew until it filled his entire vision, and it was so bright that Tubbo actually could not see what was going on for some time. He felt it though, when Ranboo stepped onto solid ground again, and Tubbo let the tension bleed from his own posture. He was safe here. For once in his life, he was not precariously balanced over a cliff, but gently cradled by a higher power who had promised to look after him. And mad as he may have been, Tubbo found himself taking the Enderman at his word. Ranboo would look after him, even when it was all too much and he couldn’t even see. So Tubbo just lay in his hand, enjoying the now familiar sway of the Enderman’s gait, and marveled at the miracle of trust.
When his vision cleared, he found a light much softer and gentler than he was used to. It wasn’t just in the sky, it was all around him, as if the air itself produced light. Below him, yellow moonstone glowed faintly. Around him, Endermen strode along, gazing around themselves with their glowing eyes. Above him hung the void with its silvery stars, and no matter where he looked, Tubbo could not see the earth or the stone tower which had led them here. It was just gone. Tubbo reflected briefly on his miserable existence in that broken world, and he found that he didn’t miss it. The only one there who had mattered to him was long gone.
The Endermen gathered in a circle together, a thousand giants with their odd, elongated limbs and squarish heads and glowing purple eyes. Ranboo lifted him up so he could see as the great beings opened their mouths and began to sing.
Endermen voices were deep and resonating with an almost staticky undertone. The song was unlike anything a human could produce, nor were the melodies and harmonies like anything Tubbo had ever heard before, and yet, before he realized what he was doing, he’d opened his mouth to sing as well.
Tubbo did not know the words, nor was his human voice anything in comparison to theirs, but somehow he found a place in the choir, another piece of the song of the heavens.
And it was odd, but even here, at the End of all things, Tubbo felt a swell of hope. The song thrummed around him and through him, and he wasn’t dead. The world as a whole had ended, but Tubbo’s world still went on. And peeking out of Ranboo’s hand, Tubbo could see other humans perched on giant shoulders and in giant hands: a girl with pink hair, a man in a bucket hat, a guy in a lime green hoodie that was definitely a choice—and distant, across the circle, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of wild blond hair and a familiar grin, maybe even heard a familiar voice also lifted in song.
It went on and on, the song, the beautiful haunting otherworldly melody that sent shivers down his spine. It felt like eternity, and Tubbo felt it would never End. He thought he wouldn’t mind that so much. But, glancing up at Ranboo and finding the Enderman smiling down at him as they sang together, Tubbo didn’t think it mattered all that much what happened next. Something about this felt right in a way nothing in his life ever had, and even though it made no sense by any metric Tubbo knew, he felt content, like this was the place he was meant to be. Like he mattered. And really, wasn’t that what he’d always wanted?
And so this world is ended; the next one begins.
— Endersong fragment