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“Tubbo what are you doing?”
The enderchest closed with a tight snap, echoing over the barren wasteland of where the Community House once stood. Tremors shook through his hands, his brave facade washing away as the disk shone in his best friend’s hand.
“What do you think I’m doing, Tommy? You’ve done too much bad, there’s no point in staying affiliated with you if you’re just going to terrorize !”
So that’s what he was then, a terrorist. For something that wasn't his doing?
“I didn’t blow up the Community House! That’s something I’d never do!” His heart was boiling in the steaming pot of nervousness in his stomach, threatening to overflow. He watched from his peripheral vision as Techo shifted, getting ready to strike.
“It’s exactly what you would do,” Dream shrieked chillingly from behind the president, surging forward and jabbing a finger into Tommy’s chest. “It has your name written all over it, and there’s no way for you to deny anything!”
“Why would I do this? I had a reason for blowing up George’s home, but the Community House? How am I meant to prove myself innocent if you’re just going to manipulate everyone here?” Tommy whirled around wildly, searching for sympathy in his friends’ eyes. He was met with obsidian walls. “You’re really going to listen to him, Tubbo? You’re going to listen to Dream and not me? Do you know what he did to me in exile? How he treated me?”
Tears spilled out of Tubbo’s eyes, “I thought you died!”
“And it would’ve happened if it weren’t for me waking up! Waking up and realizing what Dream actually is: a tyrant! Wake up, please! Tubbo, don’t give him the disk!”
“Don’t you see how insane you sound? You sound like a mad man—” Dream placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. For a split second, Tommy saw not the masked man but the former president, horns curling out of brown hair and a cocky smile, terrifying words hanging in the air.
“My first decree as president, as the emperor, of L’Manburg, is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit!”
“—Why are you asking people to wake up? Wake up from what? Has exile really made you this stupid, Tommy? Do you really think any of the people here care about you? Everyone’s moved on, no one remembers you! Tubbo, if you know what’s good for you, if you know what’s good for L’Manburg, then I suggest you give me the fucking disk.”
Why don’t we be the bad guys, Tommy?
Wilbur's words echoed over and over in his brain, voices screaming it in a chorus, harmonies burning themselves into his brain.
“Tommy I—” Tubbo stuttered pathetically, shrinking under Dream’s grip.
Why isn’t he the bad guy? All he’s ever done is fight miserable wars for the stupid country, whose citizens couldn’t even stand by his side when he was at his lowest. Why does no one acknowledge that he, TommyInnit, was the one person that was fighting for them?
Fine Wilbur, you got what you wanted.
“Tubbo, you give him that disk,” Tommy stepped closer to the blond in front of him, motioning for Technoblade to back him up. “And ‘Wilbur Soot’ won’t be the only name banned from L’Manburg’s dictionary.”
“What are you saying, Tommy?”
“I’m saying that handing me the disk will do you better than giving it to Dream.”
The president’s fingers trembled as the smooth circular surface slipped into Tommy’s hand, grazing over the callouses collected from his troubles. The armored boy held it behind his back, and suddenly the disk was in the hands of Technoblade.
Let’s be the bad guys.
“Good.” Tommy chuckled, watching as expressions of confusion changed to fear, “I’ll destroy the country with a bit of respect.”
Tommy watched as withers flew above L'Manburg's skies. The flag he once stood for burned to the ground, screams of terror echoing into the night. Tubbo crawled in front of him, blood soaking into his clothes as explosions erupted behind him. He crouched down to get at eye-level with him, winking at his older brother who motioned for him to get on the horse.
"I think something we both never realized, Tubbo," Tommy wiped a trail of blood that dripped down his friend's forehead, "is that it was never meant to be."
He crouched down and saluted his former brother-in-arms one last time, humming a ghostly tune as he and Techno left the country. The symphony was always meant to be unfinished. The melody will never be completed.
My L'Manburg...