Chapter Text
“Michael?”
A knock on the door of Michael’s bedroom surprised him, and he turned his head up to look at his father. He stood in the doorway, staring at Michael with a smile. “Hey, bud. How ya’ feeling?”
“I dunno. Alright, I guess.” A small buzz sounded as Michael paused the level of his video game, the rapidly moving pixelated lights coming to a pause. Tubbo, Michael’s father, walked over and up to his son, putting a hand to his forehead.
He frowned. “You don’t feel much better. Sorry, bud.” Michael shrugged, eyes flicking back to his game. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?” Michael asked, disinterested.
“Your uncle’s here to see you,” Tubbo revealed, smiling widely.
Michael gave a quiet groan. His uncle was great sometimes, sure, but he just wanted to lay around and play video games. He didn’t have any mental room for entertaining an uncle or answering their eight hundred questions about various bits of life. “Can’t you tell him I’m sick?”
Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I know, you’ll never survive. But he’s here to see you because you’re sick, so just try to deal with it for a bit, alright?”
Michael groaned again, louder, but nodded. Tubbo walked out, and a few moments later, his uncle walked in. Jack wasn’t actually Tubbo’s brother, or even really related to him. Michael wasn’t really sure how he’d started being called ‘Uncle,’ but it had happened, and that was the only name Michael knew him by.
Jack grinned as he stepped inside Michael’s room, holding a little wrapped-up item in his hand and waving. “Hey! How’re you doing, mate?”
Michael gave a half-smile and a thumbs up. “Doin’ great, Uncle. Thanks.”
“Good, good. I brought you somethin’ special!” Jack held up the package again and offered it to Michael. “Go ahead and open it up, buddy.”
Michael tore through the wrapping quickly, marginally more interested in this visit than he was before. When he finished, he stared at the item in his lap. “A book?” He said, trying and failing to hide his disappointment.
Jack pulled the chair from the desk closer to the bed and settled down in it. “A special book, actually. It’s a family tradition to read it to the youngin’s when they’re sick! My granddad read it to me, and his read it to him, and so on.”
“Ri-ight. So why’d you bring it to me?” Michael couldn’t keep the boredom out of his voice, but he couldn’t. Jack just laughed, though.
“Because today I’m gonna read it to you! It’s called Princess Bride .”
“Honestly, Uncle, that doesn’t sound all that interesting,” Michael sighed. “What’s it about?”
“Not that interesting - not that interesting? Please!” Jack gave another laugh, one of those deep belly ones that Michael thought made his mouth look funny. “It’s about all kinds of things. Chases, revenge, torture, fighting, giants, monsters, escapes, betrayal, true love, miracles!”
Michael shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t sound... too bad?”
“You’ll see, buddy. Now. The Princess Bride, by S. Morgenstern, Chapter One.”
-
Dream was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin. He was a simple person - his favorite hobbies were horseback riding and messing with the farm boy he had working for him. His name was Techno, although Dream never stooped so low as to call him by his proper title.
He just referred to Techno as ‘farm boy,’ ordering him around in each way he possibly could. It infuriated him when he couldn’t get under Techno’s skin, but each demand and request, no matter how irksome or unnecessary, was only met with the words ‘as you wish.’
-
“Now isn’t that a wonderful beginning,” Jack said, smiling at Michael.
“It’s alright, I guess,” Michael bit back a sigh.
-
Dream flounced around the corner, long blonde hair tossing in the wind. “Farm boy! Shine my saddle! I want to be able to see myself in it by morning!”
“As you wish,” Techno tipped his head, and Dream turned back around, walking back to the hut he called home. Chickens ran away from him underfoot, and Techno watched him walk away, a bounce in his step and hair flying around in the wind. The cloak he wore was pulled tight around his shoulders in the cold.
Over and over again, daily, their routine continued on and on. Techno would do his normal chores and Dream would do his own, and the two would meet around the house. Sometimes they wouldn’t speak, sometimes they would, but most of the time it ended up with torment or unnecessary tasks that Dream requested be done.
“Farm boy!” Dream called, less snappish than usual. “Fill these up with water?” He presented Techno with two great wooden basins, both held up with ropes. Dream hesitated for a moment, looking Techno in the eye, before adding, quietly, “please?”
Techno placed the axe he was using to chop wood down to the side, gently. He stared for a moment before he took the ropes from Dream’s hands and nodded. “As you wish,” Techno said, a tiny smile rising onto his face.
Dream walked off once again, much less flounce in his step and a lot slower. There was something almost stilled to him, something that Techno almost broke into a grin at the sight of.
Dream and Techno had lived on this farm together for years, and been together nearly every day for just as long. Whether either of them liked it or not, they knew each other in and out.
Which is why, with that ‘as you wish,’ Dream was amazed to know that Techno truly meant ‘I love you.’
And even more amazing was a few days later, standing inside of his hut and kneading bread while Techno stood waiting behind him, when Dream realized that he loved Techno just as much.
“Farm boy,” he called, as usual. There was a quiet to his voice that wasn’t normal, though, and Techno took clear note. “Will you,” Dream swallowed. “Will you fetch that pitcher for me?”
A ceramic pitcher hung in the rafters above the two, clearly low enough for either of them to reach it. Though Techno was taller, it was by a few inches at most, and Dream would’ve easily been able to grab it for himself. Either way, Techno stepped closer, reaching up for it and staring Dream in the eye.
“As you wish,” he murmured, and handed Dream the pitcher. Dream gazed back into his eyes, neither of them daring to look away. A grin grew on Dream’s face, and a smaller smile grew on Techno’s.
A gorgeous sunset framed a gentle kiss, Dream’s green eyes sparkling in the deep light as they met Techno’s -
-
“Hold it, hold it! What’s going on? You said there was adventure and sports and stuff,” Michael frowned, staring at Jack. “Is this a book about kissing? It’s not a book about kissing, right?”
“Just wait, bud,” Jack soothed. “You don’t know what’s comin’.”
“Is it more kissing?” Michael groused, but he let Jack continue telling the story.
-
Techno, being a boy who came from a poor family and lived on a small farm, did not have much money. He had no money for marriage, and nothing to support him and Dream with, so he set out across the sea with all of his belongings to go find a fortune.
It was an extraordinarily emotional time for Dream.
-
“Gods, I can’t believe this,” Michael muttered under his breath.
-
“What if you don’t come back?” Dream asked quietly, face pressed into the crook of Techno’s neck. Techno’s short ponytail scraped the end of his nose, and he sniffled as tears fell.
“I will come back for you. I always will, Dream,” Techno murmured, stroking his lover’s hair. Dream pulled back for a moment, and Techno wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“You don't know that, Tech,” Dream shook his head. “You can’t know that.”
“This is true love,” Techno smiled. “Nothing can stop true love.”
Dream shook his head, but his lips turned up through his tears, and he met Techno in a gentle kiss. Techno’s hand cupped his jaw, fingers sliding back into his hair. Dream slid an arm around his neck and broke the kiss, tucking his face back into the place where Techno’s shoulder met his neck.
Techno gave Dream a final kiss on the cheek before he pulled away, stepping up onto his horse and away from his lover. Dream watched them gallop away until he could not see Techno anymore, until there was nothing but gorgeous, never-ending fields and an all-consuming sense of alone.
Techno never made it to his destination. His ship was attacked by the Bloodied Pirate Roberts, a pirate famous for never keeping anyone alive. It took a week for Dream to get the news of his lovers death, of his murder-
-
“Murdered by pirates is good!” Michael chipped in, finally excited by something in the neverending tale of ear grinding romance.
Jack gave him a look and flipped the page.
-
-and when he heard it, he went into his room and shut the door. For days, he ignored his own self need, only stared at the fire and drank the water left in the pitchers occasionally. He didn’t sleep or eat, and the only thing he ever said was ‘I will never love again.’
Five years later, Florin was filled as never before with guests from all around the country. Most were gathered in the main square of the King’s town, where the castle and all of its inhabitants rested.
Children ran amuck and disturbed animals held on tight leashes by their owners. Merchants came from all around the world for better business, and people held a hand on their money purses and wallets, keeping their cash safe from the desperate hands of pickpockets.
The prince, Wilbur, was going to be revealing his partner-to-be, his chosen fiance and the new royal of Florin. In a month, he’d be married to them, and once the older king and queen passed, they’d be the rulers of the land.
The whole town was bustling, but the square quieted down when trumpets sounded aloud through them. Above the square, on a little stone platform, the prince and his bodyguards walked out to greet the crowd. Wilbur gave them a wide smirk, his teeth polished a bright, shining white. His crown rested on his head heavily, much larger but much less fancy than the king and queen’s.
The queen, the king, and Wilbur’s head general - Schlatt - all stood with him, each of them just a bit behind Wilbur. Despite the king and queen still ruling, everyone in the country of Florin knew who the true leader was. The king and queen were kind, but they did not care to rule their country, and they let their son run wild with decisions and orders.
“My people,” Wilbur called, raising his voice to be heard among the bits of noise left among the crowd. “A month from now, our country will have its five-hundredth anniversary! On that day, I shall marry a man who was once just like you - a commoner! But perhaps, you shall not find him so common anymore.
“Would you like to meet him?” He shouted, raising his voice once again. The crowd met him with cheers and screams of ‘yes,’ and Wilbur’s smarmy smirk grew wider. “I give you-” Wilbur paused, raising his hand and pointing at a doorway that stepped onto a red carpet cutting through the crowd. It stopped near the center of the square, where the carpet rolled up. Flowers lined the thing, gorgeous shades of blue and pink running up and down the edges. “Prince Dream!”
The men with trumpets began to play a cheerful tune, and Dream walked out from the opening. He wore a gorgeous silk suit the color of pearl, huge flowing sleeves hanging down past his hands and near to his feet.
As he walked forwards, people knelt, on both knees or one. One by one, everyone in the crowd dropped until they were all kneeling for him. But Dream did not smile, only stared out at the crowd with a cold, blank expression. He did not want them to take a knee for him, he did not want their praise.
An empty feeling rose in Dream’s chest, and he looked up to catch Wilbur’s eye. Wilbur stared back with a smug expression, an obviously fake smile pressed onto his face. It was one that Dream could not hope to replicate, and somewhere inside of him, he did not want to. But he stared out at the crowd nonetheless, trying to look like he was happy or proud.
The law of Florin gave Wilbur the right to choose whoever he wanted to marry, bride or groom from anywhere. This meant people who did not love him - and Dream was such. He did not care for Wilbur, despite Wilbur’s promises that Dream would love him eventually.
The only happiness Dream drew in the world anymore was on his daily rides, in which he could lose his thoughts to the wind and the gorgeous countryside and the stomping of his horse’s feet.
Sometimes, he’d let himself wander even further, until his horse hit woods. The sound of hooves thudding against ground became the crunch of fallen leaves under softer steps, and sunlight became dappled.
Dream found himself slowing his horse at the edge of a lake, where three men were docking and climbing out. The shortest one wore a grin, with a beanie tucked firmly over a head of black hair and a heavy but short fur coat. Another was huge, broad and tall and standing behind the other two with his arms crossed. He had a white headband pulling a mess of a black mullet away from his head. The last one looked tired, leaning on his jewel-encrusted sword and rubbing at his eyes under wide white sunglasses.
“Excuse me- excuse me, sir!” The shortest called, making Dream pull his horse to a complete stop in front of the trio. “We are but poor, lost circus performers. Do you know of any towns nearby? Any cities, maybe?”
A look of pity came over Dream. “There’s nothing nearby. Nothing for miles on end.”
The pitiful look on the face of the smallest turned cruel, and a grin stretched over his features. “Then there will be no one to hear you scream.”
The big one stepped closer, holding out a hand towards Dream’s neck. He was tall enough that his shoulder was just about level with Dream, despite the shorter man still being seated on a horse. Dream drew in a breath and opened his mouth to shout, to cry for help, for anyone, any thing-
But the brute’s hand closed around the back of his neck, and his world went black.
A few minutes later, Sapnap finishes loading Dream into the boat, making sure to tie the ropes tightly around his wrists and ankles. Quackity - their leader, someone with the shortest temper Sapnap’d ever seen - would be furious if Dream managed to escape this early on, even if they’d be able to catch him easily.
“What are you doing?” The swordsman - George, Sapnap’s best friend - asks Quackity, who’s ripping a patch off of some fabric or another.
“This patch has the symbol of an army man of Guilder. I’m tying it to the Prince’s horse and sending it back so that the prince will think the Guilderians have abducted his love - and when he finds his lovely fiance’s corpse on the border, he’ll assume the worst, and the war will begin!” Quackity gave a crazed giggle, and smacked the horse’s flank.
“Who’s Guilder?” Sapnap questioned, brow furrowed in confusion.
“The sworn enemy of Florin,” Quackity snapped, pulling his eyes away from the receding back of the horse and walking onto the boat. “The country across the sea.”
“You never said anything about killing anyone, Quackity,” Sapnap frets.
“I hired you to start a war!” Quackity laughed condescendingly, rolling his eyes. “It’s a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition, and I need you to get your hands dirty a bit!”
“I just... I don’t think it’s right, Big Q,” Sapnap sighed. “The prince - the one we have, anyways - has done nothing.”
Quackity’s face turned red with anger, and he stalked straight up to Sapnap’s face. He was too short to properly stick a finger in his face, but he poked him in the chest. “Sorry, did I hear the word ‘think’ come out of your mouth? You’re not here to think, you idiotic landmass!”
“I agree with Sapnap,” George cut in, jumping into the boat easily.
Quackity turned to George, fury blazing in his eyes. “Oh, the boozer has an opinion! Did you pull it out of your ass while high or vomit it up during one of your hangovers? What happens to the prince is none of your opinions! I’ll kill her, and you, you drunken idiot, won’t have to do anything other than what I paid you for!”
George opened his mouth to speak, but Quackity was on one of his rants now. “And don’t forget - don’t you ever forget! - when I found you, you were so goddamn drunk you couldn’t buy yourself beer!” He turned, gaze once again directed back at Sapnap. Spit flew from his lips as he insulted his crewmates, and his face was turning redder by the second. “And you! Friendless, brainless - hopeless! I’ll send you back from where you came, do you want that? Unemployed, in Greenland!”
Quackity gave a last snap before he turned heel and walked to the other side of the boat, off to do something on his own while his head lost its bright red color. George, on the other hand, approached Sapnap with a grin on his face. “Hey, that Quackity... he can fuss.”
Sapnap grinned, light flaring up in his eyes when he realized exactly what George was trying to do. “Fuss, fuss, fuss,” Sapnap murmured. “I think he likes to scream at us.”
“Probably, he means no harm,” George shot back.
“He’s really very short on charm,” Sapnap finished, and George gave a pleased little clap.
“You’ve got a great gift for rhyme,” George complimented, placing a hand on a rope next to them.
“Yes, yes,” Sapnap said, grinning wider. “Some other time.”
From his spot in the corner, Quackity snapped, “Enough of that!”
“Sapnap?” George asked as he walked to the other side of the boat to lift the anchor and get them going. “Are there rocks ahead?”
“If there are,” Sapnap called back. “We’ll all be dead!”
“No more rhymes now!” Quackity demanded. “I mean it!”
“Anybody want a peanut?” Sapnap answered, and Quackity groaned angrily.
Travel on the boat was uneventful. The water was peaceful and the two taller men were good sailors, so everything was smooth and easy. No one spoke to Dream, and he didn’t try to speak to them. The day passed shockingly quickly, until the sun had been snuffed out and the inky black waters were lit by only the moon.
“We’ll reach the cliffs by dawn,” Quackity said, tilting his head back to stare at George.
Dream sat tied up in a corner of the boat, tucked against the stairs up to the steering wheel. George was leaning against the wall across from him, glancing back over the end of the boat, and Quackity sat at the other end. Sapnap was sitting at the steering wheel, sometimes messing with it, sometimes not.
“Why are you doing that?” Quackity snapped, still staring directly at George.
“Are you sure nobody’s following us?” George asked, glaring out at the lake.
“That would be inconceivable,” Quackity said.
“Despite what you think,” Dream spoke up, catching the attention of George and Quackity. “You will be caught. And when you are, the prince will see you all hanged.”
Quackity chuckled. “Of all the people on this boat you could worry about, highness, your first pick should be yourself.” Dream drew back, an expression in between determination and fear shining in his eyes. George turned back to the water, staring out at the same spot as before.
“Stop doing that!” Quackity demanded. “We can relax! We’ve got the prince, we’re headed across the sea - leave it alone.”
“And you’re sure there’s no one following us?” George asked quietly.
“As I said! It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable! Nobody in Guilder could know what we’ve done, and nobody in Florin could get here this quick!” Quackity relaxed further against the ship’s wall where he sat, rolling his eyes. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”
George shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve been looking back, and there’s someone there.”
“What?” Quackity’s eyes widened as jumped up, walking towards Quackity and staring out over the edge of the ship. Sure enough, there was another boat out on the water, staying steadily away but still in sight. Quackity swallowed, trying to explain it away. “I’m sure it’s just... someone out for a pleasure cruise. At night. Through, uh, eel-infested waters.”
A splash sounded behind them, ear-shattering and sharp in the silence of the night. The three men still onboard turned to look at Dream, who had thrown himself into the water. The flowing red clothes he wore were soaked in an instant, and were obviously dragging him down, but he moved forward nonetheless.
Quackity sprinted over to the edge of the boat, yelling for Sapnap and George to turn it so that they could get him out of the water. Sapnap couldn’t swim very well, especially not with another person on his back or in his arms, and George couldn’t swim at all, which means they’d have to fish him out or get close enough for Sapnap to pick him out of the water.
Throughout the waters, a great screeching noise began, echoing about the area and making Dream freeze in place. He had no clue what it was coming from, but it started once he was in the water, and it got louder the longer he was there. His eyes glanced back to the boat and the men on it, meeting Quackity’s cruel eyes. A smug smirk was slowly growing on Quackity’s face as Dream tread water.
“Do you know what that is, highness?” Quackity gestured to the once-calm water around Dream, which was slowly being replaced by choppy little waves and bits of foam. Something touched Dream’s leg underwater, and he jerked away. “Those are the shrieking eels! They get louder when they’re about to feed,” Quackity paused, unfortunately one for dramatics. “When they’re about to feed on human flesh!”
Panic rose in Dream’s chest as a thin but ever-so-long body slid past him. From what he could only take as the chest of the being, one of the loud wails began, and Dream flinched away from it, a fearful yelp joining the screams of the eels.
“Come back now, and I promise you, no harm will come to you! But stay out in the water, and, well... you’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.” The boat inched closer as Dream froze in the water, trying not to hyperventilate at the feeling of the eels sliding against his legs and torso underwater.
Eels were more obvious at the surface, now, bigger and darker and grinning cruelly with needle-sharp teeth. One of them - one of the largest - swam towards Dream, opening it’s huge mouth with the intent to bite into his face, and -
-
“He doesn’t die here,” Jack said, pausing his reading.
“What?” Michael asked, confused and annoyed by the interruption.
“The eel doesn’t get him.”
“ What?” Michael repeated.
“I’m explaining to you because you looked worried,” Jack patted the page. “He doesn’t die here.”
Michael frowned. “I wasn’t worried.” He stared at where his hands were knotted in his blankets and released them. “Alright, maybe I was a little... concerned, but that’s not the same as worried.”
“We can stop now, if you want?”
“No!” Michael snapped, and then paused sheepishly. “No, it’s alright. You could keep going, if you want.”
“Alright, alright. Where were we?” Jack trailed his eyes over the page. “Right, he was frightened, the eel started to charge him, and then-”
-
-Sapnap’s hand came down over the head of the eel, smacking it down and stunning it for a moment. He plucked Dream out of the water and tugged him back into the boat, where he lay gasping. Quackity grinned at him for a moment before he grabbed some rope to start retying him up.
“I think they’re getting closer.” George was still staring out at the boat behind them.
“We’re not paying attention to them!” Quackity snapped, and turned back to Dream. “I suppose you think you’re brave, huh?”
“Only compared to some,” Dream retorted, glaring at Quackity.
Quackity met his eyes, glaring back, and the two locked themselves in a staring match of hatred.
Dawn was quick after that. Dream dozed off a few times, to his own chagrin, but he was woken to the shouting of George hanging off of one of the taller ropes and pointing out at a boat on the sea behind them. “Look! They’re right on top of us!” A pause, and then, “I wonder if they’re using the same wind we’re using.”
The boat was close now, close enough that Dream could see it from where he sat. It was foggy, the morning mist heavy and low over the sea, but he could tell well enough that the boat was certainly following them. He wasn’t sure why, and he couldn’t tell who he wanted it to be. Did he want it to be the prince? (Did he want to be saved?)
Quackity laughed sharply and rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter who they are, or how close they’ve gotten! The cliffs are right there! They’re too late!”
The Cliffs of Insanity loomed high above the boat, a sheer rock-face. On top, some sort of ruin lay, and thrown down the edge was a long, thick rope. Dream almost feared how prepared this ragtag trio was, but his faith in Wilbur didn’t waver. He’d be rescued, and it didn’t matter whether he decided he wanted it.
They docked quickly, the three men rushing out of the boat with Dream slung over Sapnap’s shoulder. The boat behind them gained even faster, clearly having caught some kind of way to move much quicker than they had. Dream sighed, waiting for whoever was within it to come to rescue him.
Sapnap had put on some sort of strange harness, and as he attached the other three, Quackity blabbed on. “We’re safe now! Only Sapnap is strong enough to go up our way! They’ll have to look for a way up for hours before they manage to reach where we were.”
The harness did not attach to the rope. Quackity, George, and Dream all sat in leather loops and held on tightly to Sapnap while he began to haul them up the rope. He truly was incredibly strong, so much that they were up a quarter of the cliffs in only a few minutes.
Below, their unanchored boat began to drift away, and the person in the boat behind them docked even faster than they had. They clambered out and stared up at the fast-moving climbers for a moment before they grabbed the end of the rope - and began to pull themselves up after the group.
“They’re climbing the rope,” George muttered, staring down. “And they’re gaining.”
Quackity squinted down at the person for a moment before he let out a loud groan of anger and disbelief. “Inconceivable!” He stared down at them for another moment and shook his head. “Go faster! Faster!”
“I thought,” Sapnap breathed in and out heavily. “I thought I was going faster!”
“You were supposed to be this... this giant!” Quackity spat. “This great legendary thing! But there he is, gaining!”
“Well,” Sapnap reasoned, visibly sweating. “They’ve got - they’ve got only themselves. And I’ve - I’ve got four people!”
“No excuses! I’ll have to find myself a new brute.”
Sapnap looked hurt. “Don’t say that, Quackity,” he frowned. Dream wanted to hit all three of them over the head and let the brute drop them all into the waiting sea, but he was too afraid to move his arms away from their tight hold.
He stared down at the shape below them, watching them climb faster. They were dressed all in black, and from what Dream could see, they had a dark mask covering their eyes and the top of their nose. A black bandana covered their hair, and leather gloves covered their hands. Everything but their mouth and end of their nose was completely clothed.
“Did I make it clear that your job is at stake?!” Quackity yelped, even as they neared the edge of the clifftop. Sapnap pulled harder, but the only response from the black-clothed person was to follow them faster.
Finally, George clambered out of the harness and onto the cliff’s edge, tugging Dream after him. Quackity came next, stumbling to his feet and walking up to where the rope was tied as soon as he stood on firm ground. He pulled a little knife from his pocket, and while Sapnap pulled himself up, Quackity began to saw through the rope.
One great coil of thread sliced through, two great coils of thread sliced through, and, at last, three great coils of thread sliced through. The rope slid over the edge with a zip, and a sigh of relief echoed through the group. Dream just glared at the spot the rope had disappeared over and rubbed his shoulders - his clothes still weren’t totally dry, and the wind on top of the cliffs blew like hell.
They were in the ruins of what looked like an old stone building. Most of it had fallen, enough that Dream couldn’t see the real structure anymore, but some short stone walls still held, and a few sets of staircases or platforms sat in place. Everything was coated in a fine layer of sand, including the set of stone stairs that Dream had been dropped on. The coils of rope that were left over were wrapped tightly around a large stone that stuck out of the ground.
Sapnap and George went over to the edge and tilted their heads to look down. Surprise flashed in George’s face, and he nodded. “He’s got very good arms,” Sapnap said, looking back at Quackity.
“He didn’t fall?!” Quackity roared. “Inconceivable!”
“You keep using that word,” George said. “I do not think it means what you think it means.”
A long pause came from the group, and Dream stared at them silently. Were they going to continue, or were they going to wait for the man in black to continue his climb? Was he going to continue, or would he give up and chance the drop back into the ocean? Apprehension brewed in Dream’s chest.
“My Gods,” George muttered a minute later. “He’s climbing.”
“Whoever he is, he’s seen at least a piece of our plan. He has to die. George, stay here and kill him. Sap, carry the prince. We’ll meet you on the way - catch up when he’s dead.” Quackity turned his gaze back to Dream, preparing to leave.
“I’m going to use my left hand,” George said.
“What? Why?”
George shrugged.“If I use my right, I won’t be satisfied. It’ll be over too fast.”
“Oh, have it your way,” Quackity groaned, walking away.
Sapnap came back to George, one hand keeping Dream over his shoulder. “Be careful, alright? People in masks can’t be trusted.”
George gave him a nod and a small smile, opening his mouth to respond. Quackity interrupted. “I’m waiting!”
Sapnap gave George one last clap on the shoulder before he walked away, trailing after their leader silently. George watched them go, seeing them turn around a corner and sighing quietly.