Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was no secret that gods existed. Known for representing different important aspects in the lives of the people who inhabited the world of the Dream SMP. Temples were built where offerings could be made and people often prayed to them in daily life. Despite this, not much was known about these powerful beings, not even their names. It was just assumed that the gods preferred to be secretive, and that was at least a little bit correct.

Yes, the four gods of the world were known for being mysterious and almost never appearing to mortals, but they were very much real. A family who hid themselves away from society, occasionally mingling with the mortals disguised as one of them.

The youngest of these gods, Tommy, ran through the snow with a grin on his face, his boots pounding against the ground as his laughter rang through the air and his blonde hair blew wildly in the wind. If you didn’t know better, you might think he was the god of youth or innocence from looking at him. His clothing matched both the clothes of his family, and the environment. His trousers were white, and no matter how much he played around outside, nothing seemed to dirty them. He wore a pale blue button down with gold and white accents, almost the same color of his eyes, and over one shoulder he wore a short red cape.

Sitting on the deck, watching the younger god fondly, was Philza, the eldest god. He had the same hair and eyes as Tommy did, and a similar outfit, although his cape was longer and blue, and the red accents were on his sleeves and a little heart clasp at his chest. A bucket hat covered the top of his head, casting a shadow over his face that would have looked menacing if it weren’t for the soft smile he wore. If you looked at him, you’d never be able to tell just how powerful the man was. You wouldn’t understand the way that nature bent to his will.

Behind Tommy, chasing him and laughing almost as hard as the boy himself, was Wilbur, the younger of the twin gods. His curly brown hair stuck out of the crimson beanie on his head, and the large blue coat that he wore over his outfit, a white shirt and light brown pants, flowed behind him in the wind. He gathered a snowball in his hand and tossed it at his younger brother, hitting him in the head and causing a loud bout of complaining from Tommy, who was now trying to shake the snow out of his hair.

The older twin god was nowhere to be seen, probably inside cooking for the family, a stew made with potatoes, carrots, and beef alongside fresh bread, which Phil had placed in the oven before coming outside with two of his three sons.

The family didn’t expect a visitor that day. After all, the only person who knew where they lived was Karl, who only came when there was significant news. Karl only knew because he had shown to be an asset, his abilities to travel throughout the timeline becoming very useful. Plus, he had already known they were gods when he showed up. That must have been some time travel thing, although Karl said he couldn’t disclose the details because it might mess up the timeline and cause something bad to happen. Apparently even gods couldn’t know all the intricacies of the timeline.

Yet, here he was, running out of the forest in that multi-colored hoodie that he always wore, despite the temperature. Seriously, the mortal should have been more careful. He must have been freezing. That jacket couldn’t have been nearly warm enough.

Tommy was the first to spot him, and his grin became even wider than before as he ran to meet the man, “Karl!” he yelled, waving his hand excitedly, “you’re here! Why are you here? Did something cool happen? Did the mortals do something?”

Karl took a moment to catch his breath, “Yeah, something happened, but you aren’t going to like it.” He looked around, as if confused, “Where’s Technoblade? I need all of you here. He needs to hear what’s going on.”

Wilbur and Phil exchanged concerned looks, before Phil walked over and placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Go tell your brother we’ll be having a guest for dinner. It’s a good thing he always makes too much. We’re just going to have a quick conversation, but we’ll come in right afterwards, okay?”

Tommy really didn’t like being left in the dark about things and this seemed like one of those times, but he knew better than to complain. By the look on Karl’s face, the young god could tell that what was happening was important. With a nod, he ran back to the house to tell Techno.

The door swung open easily as he pushed it and his nose was immediately greeted with the smell of the stew that his brother was cooking in the corner. The house was tidy, although that wasn’t very surprising considering any one of them could send everything back to its proper place with a snap of their fingers. The shelves in the main room were lines with cookbooks and history books, as well as a couple of scrapbooks from the times they’d spent living with mortals. Tommy still occasionally got teary-eyed remembering a mortal boy he had once known who was called Robin. Of course, Robin had died decades, if not centuries ago.

His brother, and the elder twin god, stood in the corner tending to the stew. He had no doubt sensed Tommy’s presence but was waiting for his younger brother to speak. His long hair, which had been a soft pink color ever since he’d observed mortals who changed their hair color to match an aesthetic that they enjoyed, was tied back into a simple braid. His ears were slightly folded over, similar to that of a pig’s for reasons unknown, and he wore a golden crown perched on his head, which Tommy found incredibly ironic considering the guy was the god of anarchy. He wasn’t wearing his outer layers at the moment and simply wore a white button down with blue sleeves that were rolled up so as not to get dirty while cooking.

“Hey, Techno!” Tommy called out, grinning at his brother, “Phil says to set the table for another guest. Karl’s here and apparently he’s got important news.”

“Oh?” Techno asked, not looking up from his task, “do you know if it’s good or bad news, Toms?” He snapped his fingers and one of the overhead cabinets flew open, allowing five bowls to come flying out onto the counter so that Techno could ladle the stew into them.

“Bad, I think,” Tommy said with a sigh, “he said we weren’t going to like it. He also said that you specifically would need to hear it. I dunno why though.”

Techno grunted, ladling stew into the last bowl, “I’ll bring these over to the table. Could you get silverware and take the bread out of the oven?” He didn’t wait for an answer before carrying the stew over to the family’s table and snapping his fingers once more to call another chair.

Tommy gave a nod and rushed to grab oven mitts. Maybe he was a god, but touching a hot pan of bread was still not pleasant. He’d learned that the hard way. Once the bread was out of the oven, he carefully released it from the pan it was in and placed it on a plate in the center of the table. He noticed that the butter was already out and went to grab spoons for the stew and a couple of knives for the butter and cutting the bread.

Just as Tommy finished setting the table, the other three walked in, finishing up a hushed conversation that Tommy didn’t catch.

“Nice to see you Karl,” Techno said in greeting, “although Tommy tells me that you come bearing bad news. Please, let’s discuss over dinner. I hope you like beef stew.”

As the group took their seats around the table, the tension rose in the room. For a moment, nobody spoke, preferring to focus entirely on the stew, which tasted amazing. For the god of blood and war, Techno was certainly a good chef.

Then, Karl spoke up, “There is a power-hungry man in the SMP,” he said, “he calls himself Dream, and apparently he’ll stop at nothing to be feared and respected.”

“Is he committing war crimes?” Techno asked, “war crimes are always interesting.”

“Not yet,” Karl sighed, “he’s claiming to be a god.”

That sentence brought an uproar from the table.

“Well that’s fucking stupid. He’s just a little bitch boy.”

“Did he expect to get away with that without divine intervention?”

“A fucking god? Who does he think he is?”

The only one who was silent was Techno, who stared at Karl with an intensity in his gaze, “Which god is he claiming to be, Karl?”

Karl gulped, “He claims to be the god of blood, war, and anarchy.”

Techno slammed his fist on the table, making the whole house shake and almost causing the stew to spill out of the bowls they were eating from, “He’s pretending to be me? I should have Tommy strike him with lightning for that.”

Tommy’s eyes lit up, “I never get to zap people anymore! Can I zap him, please? He sounds like a fucking bitch.”

“No,” Techno sighed, “we’re going to investigate this problem in person. Hopefully set this whole thing right and not reveal our identities in the process.”

“Are you sure, Techno?” Philza asked, “We haven’t visited SMP lands for an extended amount of time in at least thirty years. Things have changed.”

“Clearly they have,” Techno grumbled, “for the worse. People have no respect for the gods anymore. It’s idiocy.”

Nobody seemed interested in finishing their stew anymore. They all were angry, frustrated, and in the mood to punch something.

“I could drive him insane,” Wilbur suggested. Being the god of music, madness, and death, he could do things like that.

“If he’s claiming to be Techno, he’s probably already insane,” Tommy said with a groan, “You sure I can’t make lightning strike him? It would be so easy. Just a little zap and then BOOM. No more bitch boy, and everyone knows he’s a liar.”

“No,” Techno grumbled, “I’m doing this in person, and I assume you all don’t want to be left out of the action.”

“We aren’t letting you go on your own, Techno,” Phil spoke with a sigh, “I suppose we’ll leave in the morning then. Pack your travel supplies after dinner. Karl, do you have something we could use in order to find our way?”

“I could guide you myself,” he suggested, “it wouldn’t be a problem, really.”

“No.” Wilbur was the one to speak this time, “you’re the king’s advisor, correct?”

“Uh, yeah,” Karl nodded, “I’m King Eret’s advisor.”

“He’ll wonder where you are if you stay the night to guide us. Plus, we don’t have a guest room. You need to go back. We will meet up with you tomorrow.”

Karl frowned, but nodded. He dug around in his bag and pulled out a compass that almost glowed with a purple light, “This compass is enchanted. It leads you to your desired destination throughout space. It also works through time if you can time travel, but you can’t time travel so you don’t need to worry about that. Whoever is holding it just needs to focus on King Eret’s castle, and that’s where it will lead you. Good luck.”

He didn’t finish his stew, not that anyone minded, before he gave them a wave end exited the building, running a short distance before disappearing into the air. That man was certainly something.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence before leaving to pack their things. After all, they had a long journey ahead of them the next morning.

Chapter Text

The sun was only just beginning to peak over the horizon when the four gods finished their breakfast, a meal hastily prepared which nobody really enjoyed. Each one of them donned their outfits, almost carbon copies of the ones they had worn the day before, their traveling cloaks and jackets, and their bags, filled to the bursting point with supplies for their journey. None among them really felt like making conversation, more focused on directing their anger at the man who had claimed to be one of their own.

Gods, thankfully, could travel at speeds that most humans couldn’t. Because of this, along with the enchanted compass leading the way, the journey which would have taken any mortal a few days, would only take them a few hours. Still, gods are impatient beings and the journey was tedious as they trekked through the spruce forest, a wooded area covered in snow which resided in the valley between two mountains. It was always cold there, no matter the season in the rest of the world, leading many outsiders to steer clear, thinking it was magical.

Somewhere along the line, Tommy tried to start a game of I Spy while Wilbur was attempting to lead them all in the travel song, One Hundred Potion Bottles On The Wall, which nobody seemed keen to join in with.

By the time they had left the forest, emerging into the greater lands of the Dream SMP, Philza and Techno looked about ready to snap if they heard “take one down, pass it around, now there’s thirty two potion bottles on the wall” or “I spy with my little… no, not little. My eye isn’t little, I’m a big man. Let me start over. I spy—” one more time, they would have screamed. Luckily, just as Wilbur was taking in a breath, ready to start the next line of the song, Tommy called out in excitement.

“There it is!” he yelled, “There’s King Eret’s castle, see?” He pointed to a spot in the distance, and sure enough, there it was, a castle built with stone bricks only just coming into view. Turrets and spires flew rainbow flags, blowing in the wind which whipped through each god’s hair. It was an amazing sight to behold as it loomed overhead, even with the moss and ivy that was beginning to creep up the walls.

“Good,” Techno groaned, “let’s just find Karl so we can find this Dream guy and get this over with.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come all the way out here,” Tommy pointed out, “I offered to zap him, but you said you wanted to deal with it in person.”

“I didn’t anticipate the singing,” Techno countered.

“I’m literally the god of music,” Wilbur laughed, raising an eyebrow, “plus, we’re twins. You’re supposed to know me better than anyone else. You should have expected this.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Philza said with a small grin, “Wilbur has a point. Don’t get me wrong, I hated that repetitive singing—”

“Hey!”

“—but I definitely wasn’t surprised by it.”

“Well Tommy thinks my singing is amazing,” Wilbur huffed, elbowing Tommy in the side, “don’t you?”

Tommy blinked, “I just wanted to play I Spy, and right now I spy a massive bitch and his name is Wilbur.”

“You little—”

“Boys!” Philza called out, “stop fighting. We have bigger things to worry about. Now remember, we aren’t here to do anything other than put an end to the lies this Dream guy is telling. We cannot afford to get side-tracked.”

“Philza, do I look like the type of man to get sidetracked?”

“Yes, Tommy, absolutely.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Remember,” Phil said, nodding his head in the direction of the castle, “they cannot know who we are. As far as they’ll know, we’re a mortal royal family from a country on the other side of the forest, the Antarctic Empire.”

“I don’t understand why our cover has to involve the government,” Techno grumbled.

“We’re meeting with Karl and the King, Techno,” Philza explained, “King Eret should be more inclined to help us if he thinks we’re rulers from a foreign country. He’ll want to ensure possible future relations.”

“Fine, but I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it, you just have to play along.”

For the second time in two days, the gods found themselves staring at a figure running towards them, Karl again, a relieved smile on his face as he waved to them, only stopping to catch his breath when he reached the group.

“You made it!” he said, panting from the exertion, “I was worried the compass had broken or something.”

“Yeah,” Philza chuckled, “well, Tommy and Wilbur kept us dragging slightly.”

“What do you mean?” Karl asked.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” he waved the question away, “the important thing is, we’re here. This must be the first time I’ve visited the SMP in about forty years.”

“I know! Everyone here is going to love you guys, I’m sure of it. King Eret is expecting you, by the way.”

“You didn’t tell him—” Techno started, quickly getting cut off by Karl.

“Of course not! Phil told me the cover story, that’s all he knows. Seriously, you can trust me to keep a secret. I mean, nobody knows about the whole time travel thing.”

“Right, just had to make sure,” Techno nodded, “you understand.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Karl said, shaking his head slightly, “but don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone about the whole gods thing. Now come on, Eret is waiting.”

King Eret was an impressive looking man, as befitted a king. His brown hair fell in his face, and sunglasses covered his eyes, as if he had something to hide underneath. For the moment, as it was warm inside his castle, his cape was hung neatly nearby, leaving him wearing a white button down shirt, black slacks, and platform boots that made him even taller than he was usually. Perched atop his head was a crown, not unlike the one that Techno always wore, saying that he may dislike the government, but he didn’t have a vendetta against their fashion.

His voice was warm as he greeted them, “Hello, and welcome to the Dream SMP. It’s always great to have visitors from abroad, although I’ll admit it doesn’t happen often. Karl tells me you’re from beyond the Frozen Wood, is that correct?”

He seemed to be mainly addressing Techno, which made sense as he was the one wearing the crown.

“Yes,” Techno spoke, matching Eret’s warm tone as best as he could, “I’m Prince Technoblade of the Antarctic Empire, this is my father, Philza, and my siblings, Tommy and Wilbur.”

“Ah, so Philza is the ruler of your nation?” Eret asked, tilting his head.

“I am the Emperor, yes,” Philza agreed with a nod, “We are all very pleased to make your acquaintance. It has been a long journey to get here.”

Techno glanced back at Tommy and Wilbur, “Very long.”

“I would assume so,” Eret laughed, “none from my kingdom other than Karl have dared journey into the depths of that forest. They all think it’s enchanted.”

“Because of the snow?” Tommy asked, “That’s fucking stupid, it’s just how the place is.”

“Tommy,” Philza scolded, “we are guests of King Eret, please treat him with respect.”

“No, it’s alright. He reminds me of a couple other boys I know. I think he’s around their age.”

Tommy had to hold in an amused snort at that notion. Of course, he looked fairly young, but he was a god. He was centuries old.

“Yes, he is,” Karl said quickly, “He’s sixteen. If you’re referring to Tubbo and Ranboo, then he’s slightly younger than both of them.”

Tommy shot Karl a glare. Great, now everyone thought he was super young or something. If he didn’t care about keeping their cover, he would have angrily protested.

“Ah, yes,” Eret nodded, “well, whatever your ages, we look forward to future relations with the Antarctic Empire. I don’t know how much Karl has told you about the state of our nation, but we’re in a bit of a tough spot right now. Another man has laid claim to the throne, creating a faction following him. The Greater Dream SMP is in a state of civil war, my kingdom against the newly built kingdom led by him.”

Techno frowned, raising an eyebrow, “What is this man’s name?”

“George,” Eret replied, giving the gods a moment of relief before shattering the peace again, “I don’t think he would have gained much of a faction if it weren’t for the man backing him, however. He calls himself Dream, the god of war, anarchy, and blood.”

If Eret noticed the way the gods' faces turned tense with anger, he didn’t mention it, “I’m not sure I believe his claims, but many do. They are too scared to go against the will of a god to risk disbelieving him.”

“What of the other three gods?” Wilbur asked, trying to keep the hatred out of his voice, “what claims has he made about them?”

“None so far, but people are asking,” Karl spoke, receiving a nod from Eret, “We know nothing of their current location, or his supposed relation to them.”

“But there must be some people backing you,” Tommy frowned, “some people who aren’t too afraid to defy him.”

“There are some,” Eret nodded, “my knight, Puffy, for example, remains loyal to me. The nation of L’manberg has also formed a temporary alliance with me. We are repairing our relationship after my… unfortunate role in their last war. A few others as well, but the warriors backing George are fierce, I fear it won’t be enough.”

“We’ll back you,” Techno said, surprising everyone in the room, “we have no army who can come help, but I think you’ll find that the four of us are handy with weapons. We have seen war before and come out on top.”

“True,” Tommy said, grinning, “I’m handy with a bow, Techno likes fireworks a bit too much, and both Wilbur and Philza prefer swords, but really, we’ve all trained with a multitude of weapons.”

“We would greatly appreciate the support,” Eret said, the disbelief evident in his voice, “but you barely know the situation. Aren’t you afraid of what might happen to you if he’s telling the truth?”

“Even if he is,” Wilbur said, “he’s still an advocate for tyranny, rather odd for someone who claims to be the god of anarchy. Gods are supposed to be benevolent when they can, are they not? If he’s a god, he’s not deserving of the title.”

“It is decided,” Philza spoke, “I trust the judgement of my sons. We will back you in your war, King Eret.”

“Thank you all,” Eret said, looking relieved, but still wary, “I have some business to attend to, but I’m sure Karl can give you the tour of our nation and L’manberg. Both have plenty of places where you can stay, if that’s what you wish.”

“We thank you for your hospitality,” Phil said with a soft smile, “please, go take care of whatever it is you need to attend to.”

With a nod, Eret walked out of the room, muttering something about trying to recruit ‘The Badlands’, whatever that meant.

Karl grinned, “You’re really going help us?” he asked, looking between Techno and Philza.

“Yeah, what happened to being an anarchist, Techno?” Tommy asked, laughing slightly, “Mr. ‘I hate government’ just agreed to fight for one.”

“It was the lesser of two evils,” Techno shrugged, “we can fight in this war, kill Dream, and go back home. Besides, war is war.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wilbur asked, “that’s like me saying ‘I’m going to join a random group of travelling bards because music is music.’ You’re the god of war, Techno, have some higher standards.”

“That’s different and you know it,” Techno pointed out, “music varies in quality, you can’t just lump it all into one category. War? War is inherently all the same. It may involve different people, different nations, but their blood spilled is the same in the end.”

“Woah,” Karl laughed nervously, “that was dark, but not wrong, I guess.”

“Exactly,” Techno nodded, “you’ve seen war in the past, present, and future. In the end, new technology, different goals, it doesn’t matter. I’m surprised that the god of death doesn’t understand that.”

“Oh whatever,” Wilbur groaned, “I get it, okay? Now shut up.”

“Well,” Karl interrupted the bickering, “you guys heard Eret. I know you’ve seen the Dream SMP before, but I think it’s time you met the people of L’manberg.”

Chapter Text

Karl assured them that the citizens of L’manberg were good people, despite the slightly intimidating blackstone walls that rose up in front of them, separing the nation from the Dream SMP. The yellow tops made it look like a warning sign, cautioning them not to enter. Maybe that was the point, keeping others away by looking scarier than they were.

“You’ll like the people here,” Karl said for what must have been the third time since they’d left Eret’s castle, as if noticing the slight unease that showed in the gods’ expressions, “they’re all great. Even forgave Eret after what he did to them.”

“What exactly did Eret do to them, Karl?” asked Wilbur, raising an eyebrow.

“Not my story to tell,” Karl said with a shrug, “I wasn’t there, I just heard stories. I don’t want to tell you anything that I didn’t see firsthand.”

“So we’re just supposed to blindly help a man that may have done terrible things?” Tommy asked, seemingly feeling slightly nervous about the idea of helping Eret now.

“You’re not the victim, Tommy,” Karl frowned, “if the people of L’manberg have forgiven him, it’s not up to you to decide if he was deserving of that. You may be a god, but you don’t get any say in how people should feel.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, okay!” Tommy threw his hands in the air, “Not my business, fine. I guess I’ll just shut up then, shall I?”

“Yes, Tommy,” Techno said with a groan, “I think everyone would appreciate it if you did.”

“Hey! Shut the fuck up you little bitch, I’ll kill you. I will!”

“Tommy, I am literally immortal. I can’t die, you know that.”

Karl’s eyes darted around, “Look, we’re about to cross into the nation. If you want to keep your secret, I would shut up about it now.”

Tommy looked reluctant, but he promptly closed his mouth, opting to stick his tongue out at Techno instead.

“You’ll want to meet the cabinet first,” Karl said, once he was satisfied that the gods weren’t going to accidentally reveal themselves, “President Tubbo and Vice President Quackity are probably in the White House. I don’t know about Secretary Treasurer Ranboo, though. He tends to wander around.”

“What kind of names are those,” Techno snorted, “Tubbo? Quackity? Ranboo? Very odd names.”

“Your name is Technoblade,” Karl reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I have an excuse,” Techno said, “I’m a god. Those people are mortals.”

“Tommy and Wilbur are normal names,” Karl countered.

“Yeah, but Philza isn’t,” Techno said, “so I think it’s safe to say gods are allowed to have weird names. Mortals… well, I’m not the god of naming things, so I guess I can’t stop them.”

“There’s a god of naming things?”

“No,” Philza sighed, “Techno’s just being sarcastic. We’re the only four gods out there. We would know if there were others. With all our travels, we would have crossed paths at some point.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Tommy muttered, “let’s just meet these people already. Plus, you guys are being morons, Karl said to shut up about that shit.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Karl grinned, relieved.

“No problem, big man. I’ll take any chance to point out when those idiots are doing something stupid.”

On that note, Karl began to show the group around the country, pointing out his favorite places within the walls. It really was a beautiful place, despite the intimidating border that surrounded it.

When they arrived at the White House, the first thing that Tommy noticed was that it was not, in fact, white. It wasn’t some grand building like Tommy would have expected, but a rather humble one constructed mainly from stone bricks with a roof, hastily thrown together, as if the builders had run out of materials and just used whatever they had readily available to patch up the top. It was clearly not made by someone with much experience, but it clearly worked for whatever use it was constructed for.

From inside, Tommy could hear voices discussing something, one softer with a sort of lilt to it, and one loud and boisterous. Tommy didn’t know much about voices, that was Wilbur’s domain, but these ones stuck in his mind immediately for some reason, especially the softer one.

Karl knocked on the door and the voices went silent. There was a shuffling noise, and a boy, standing at about five and half feet tall opened the door, blinking in surprise. He looked tired, and his face wore the worn expression that Tommy had seen on many adults, but he was young. Was this one of the people Eret and Karl had been talking about? His brown hair fell just above his eyes, and he wore a white button down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a green tie that Tommy suspected might have been a clip-on. The boy also had small horns growing out of his head, like a little goat.

He visibly relaxed when he saw Karl, “Oh, hi Karl. What brings you to L’manberg? Does Eret need something? Quackity and I were just discussing the logistics of this war, but we can put that on hold to help you guys out if needed.”

“Eret is fine, Tubbo,” Karl smiled, and Tommy blinked. This short kid was the president of L’manberg? “I actually came to introduce you to the royal family of the Antarctic Empire. They’ve just allied themselves with us in the war.”

Tubbo raised an eyebrow at the group, “I’ve never heard of the Antarctic Empire.”

“It’s beyond the Frozen Wood,” Philza supplied, and Tubbo tensed further.

“You’re from beyond the wood? I didn’t know there was anything past that.”

“Yeah,” Tommy spoke, “well there is.”

“Nice to meet you then,” Tubbo said with an exhausted smile, “I’m President Tubbo, and you all are?”

Tommy took the initiative this time, “I’m Prince Tommy. The old blond guy is my father, Emperor Philza. The guy with pink hair who looks about ready to murder someone at any moment is my brother, Technoblade, and the other guy is his twin, Wilbur. How old are you?”

“Uh, seventeen?”

“Why is a seventeen year old in charge of a country?”

Tubbo frowned, “I was elected. How old are you?”

“I—” Tommy noticed Karl’s pointed glare in his direction, and he sighed, “I’m sixteen.”

“You’re younger than me, you can’t even talk,” Tubbo snorted.

“Yeah well I’m not the fucking emperor, am I? I’m just a prince, I was born into this.”

“Tubbo?” the loud voice from before asked, “what’s taking so—” the voice cut off as the source of it came into view. The man had black hair, but it was hard to see because a beanie hid most of it, only allowing a few strands to escape. He had dark brown eyes, darting around with confusion as he stared at the group in front of him, and he stood only slightly taller than Tubbo, not looking that much older either, maybe in his early 20s.

“Oh, hello?” He sounded unsure as he surveyed the odd little group standing in front of him, “Tubbo, Karl, who the hell are all these people?”

Tubbo turned to the newcomer with a smile, “Hey Quackity! Karl’s showing the royal family of the… uh, what was it again?”

“The Antarctic Empire,” Wilbur supplied.

“Yeah, that! Karl’s showing those guys around! Apparently they just entered an alliance with King Eret.”

The newcomer, Quackity, blinked, “Oh, well welcome, then. We need all the help we can get, you know? That bitch George isn’t gonna be a good king for anyone, but he does have some strong allies. Dream, Punz, Sapnap… they’re all highly trained warriors.”

“Good news for you guys then,” Tommy interjected, smiling proudly, “we’re also highly trained.”

“You?” Quackity raised an eyebrow, “No offense, man, but you look like you’re about sixteen. These other guys, maybe, but you?”

Tommy huffed in annoyance, “Look, Big Q. Can I call you Big Q?”

“Please do not.”

“Great, thanks Big Q. Anyways, you’re talking about me being too young to be a warrior when your president over there is a kid too.”

“Yeah, but he’s Tubbo,” Quackity shrugged, as if that made all the difference in the world.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Tommy groaned.

“It means, he’s an exception. Plus, Tubbo’s not a warrior, he’s a leader. He’s good at helping people, not hurting them.”

“How’d you win your war, then?” Wilbur asked, confused.

“Oh, that?” Tubbo asked, looking a little embarrassed, “That wasn’t really anything I did. I mean, we held out as long as we could, but things started to look pretty bad after… well, everything. I don’t think we’d have won if it wasn’t for Puffy.”

“Puffy?” Phil frowned, “Eret mentioned her, isn’t she his knight?”

“She didn’t used to be,” Tubbo shrugged, “we don’t really know where she came from, she never told us, but she showed up one day, one of the best warriors we’d ever seen. Because of her, we were able to turn the tide. She only joined Eret afterwards, when he made the promise to protect the rights and respect the independence of all separated nations.”

Techno frowned, “Why would she join the war of someone she didn’t even know.”

“She said it was her job to be a protector,” Quackity chimed in, “who the fuck were we to argue? We were just glad we had a strong ally. She won’t be enough this time, though. Not when Dream’s revealed himself as a god. He can use his full power without revealing anything.”

Techno clenched his fists, “That’s if he even is a god,” he said, anger barely contained in his voice.

Quackity scoffed, “You haven’t seen him fight, man. It already seemed inhuman during the first war, but now? He’s making preparations and frankly, I don’t want to see what he’s preparing for.”

Techno sighed, then glanced to Karl, “I need some fresh air. Can we continue with the tour please?”

“Of course!” Karl said, recognizing Techno’s anger, “Tubbo, do you have any idea where Ranboo is? Or Fundy and Niki? Jack Manifold?”

Wilbur sucked in a shaky breath at the mention of the name Fundy, but if anyone noticed it, they didn’t say anything.

“I think Ranboo’s in the library,” Tubbo said helpfully, “Niki is probably in her bakery. I dunno about Jack and Fundy, though. Jack might be in the arena, I heard him say something about fixing his technique, and… well, you know how Fundy is. Doesn’t really like being around other people if he can help it.”

“Why not?” Wilbur asked, surprising everyone.

Tubbo raised an eyebrow, “Well he kinda just grew up alone. He had his mum, Sally, but she left him a while back. He never knew his dad and Sally never said anything about him. Plus… he’s a little weird. Not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just… Well, he always seems to know when people have died in a room. Says he can sense it, or some shit.”

Wilbur looked about ready to run out of there, and Techno was still pissed, so Karl quickly waved goodbye and said they were off to find Ranboo, escorting the group of gods out of the building and into a safe area, out of earshot.

Wilbur still looked shaken up from the information Tubbo had shared about Fundy, even as he paced back and forth, trying to calm himself down by humming a melody each god knew by heart at this point. Wilbur had made it up when he was only a young god, and it always seemed to calm him down.

“Wilbur?” Phil asked, gently, “what’s wrong?”

“You heard what Tubbo said about that Fundy kid,” Wilbur muttered, “he can sense where things have died.”

“So?” Tommy asked, “He’s just mad, I reckon. I mean, the only one who can actually sense death is you, and unless you’ve got a kid you didn’t tell any of us about—”

Wilbur grimaced, causing Tommy to stop his joking tone of voice, and stare.

“Holy shit, Will, you don’t actually—”

“Yeah,” Wilbur said, sighing, “I think Fundy is my son.”

Chapter Text

After a brief moment of shock in which nobody spoke, all staring at Wilbur. How are you supposed to react to someone telling you he has a kid that none of you knew about? Then, the loud noises of confusion and panic came flooding in.

“What the fuck, Wilbur?” Phil asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Dude, you’re Fundy’s dad? That’s so weird,” said Karl.

“Well this complicates things,” sighed Techno.

“Wilbur, you’re a fucking deadbeat!” Tommy yelled, “Your kid probably thinks you’re fucking dead!”

“Look,” Wilbur said, his voice defensive, “I didn’t know she had a kid!”

“But you knew there was a danger that she could,” Phil pointed out, “Wilbur, do you understand what this means?”

“That I should have been paying child support for a son I didn’t know I had?”

“That you’ve jeopardized our secrecy,” Techno muttered, “you heard Tubbo, he senses when a place has a history of death. Next thing you know, he’ll be seeing ghosts or causing people to think they’re going mad.”

“I can’t have passed that much of myself onto him, could I?” Wilbur asked with a frown.

“None of us fucking know how much you could have passed on, Will!” Phil groaned, “None of us have had children with mortals before!”

“You have to keep an eye on this kid, Wilbur,” Techno said with a sigh, “he’s your

responsibility. Now that we’re here, you have to make sure nothing he does exposes us, alright?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Wilbur asked, “I don’t know how to take care of a kid!”

“You took care of Tommy when he was younger,” Philza pointed out, “plus, you should have thought of that before you decided to have relations with a mortal.”

“Well… she barely counts as mortal.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She was a shapeshifter,” Wilbur sighed, “never liked to be confined to human form for long, preferred taking the form of a salmon in the rivers.”

“So you, a god, had relations with a shapeshifter powerful enough to take the form of a salmon for most of her life, knowing there was a chance of you having a kid? He could be dangerous!”

“Woah!” Karl said, laughing nervously as he held his hands up, “let’s not fight about this right now guys! I mean, heck, none of you have even met Fundy yet! I don’t think you should, you know, judge this kid, before you even know what he’s like! I mean, I’ve met him, and I don’t think he can shapeshift or anything. He definitely doesn’t look fully human, but I’ve never seen him change shape, and you know me. I see a lot of things.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t look fully human?” Tommy asked, “that could mean a lot of fucking things, Karl.”

“You know how Tubbo had the goat horns?” Karl asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Fundy is similar to that, I guess, but it shows a bit more with him.”

“So he’s a fucking goat, then?” Tommy asked, crossing his arms.

“Uh… no,” Karl said, frowning as if he didn’t quite know how to word it, “more like a fox? He’s got a tail and ears, plus sharp teeth. Other than that, he looks pretty human. I mean, now that I think about it, he kinda does look a bit like you, Wilbur. He’s got curly hair like yours, and brown eyes.”

“Oh my god, I have a son,” Wilbur muttered, as if he still couldn’t believe it. He ran a shaking hand through his brown curls, almost knocking his beanie off his head as he did so, “Karl… can I? Can I meet him? Alone?”

“I mean…” Karl trailed off, “If I can find him, I guess you can try? He’s not a big fan of one on one conversation to be honest, Wilbur. What are you going to tell him? That you’re his dad?”

“No,” Wilbur muttered softly, “I wish I could, but… I can’t risk him telling anyone else. One day I’ll tell him, but not today.”

“You should all go talk to Ranboo first, alright?” Karl asked, “He’s got all the information about this war written down in his records, it’ll be valuable for you to talk to him. Just, fair warning, he can be a bit nervous. Oh, and if you see him writing anything down, I promise it’s not a bad thing, but it’s not my story to tell.”

“I’m beginning to think you know a lot of stories that aren’t yours to tell,” Techno observed, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Comes with the job description,” Karl said with a laugh. There was something odd about this laugh, though. Something colder, almost bitter. It was a stark contrast from Karl’s usual warm laughs, full of life. Of course, he was a time traveller, a mortal gifted with an ability to visit and change the past and future. With an ability like that, he must have seen a lot of death in his time. Deaths, when you weren’t equipped to deal with them, hurt, any god worth anything would tell you that. It was safer to stay detached from the mortal world, to focus only on yourself and other gods. Karl didn’t have that luxury, he was much too involved. He had more than his fair share of ghosts following him, formless yes, but still very much there, whispering things that only Wilbur could hear.

In fact, now that Wilbur thought about it, Karl Jacobs reeked of death. Although Wilbur couldn’t make out any individual voices, he got the general sentiment. All of these ghosts had strong feelings about Karl Jacobs. Some loved him, radiating positive emotions. Maybe these ghosts had been saved by him, only dying later in a calmer, more peaceful way. Maybe Karl had simply protected them as best he could, and they appreciated that. Most of the ghosts, however, hated him. They screamed words that Wilbur couldn’t comprehend, and occasionally a ghostly hand would climb to Karl’s throat, trying to claw the life out of him. Maybe these were the ghosts he couldn’t save, or the ones that Karl protected the others from. Wilbur knew better than to mention them to his friend.

“Okay then,” Tommy said with a wicked grin, “let’s go meet this Ranboob bitch.”

“I think you mean Ranboo,” Karl corrected.

“Nope,” Tommy laughed, “I know what I said. Go on, Karl, take me to the boob boy!”

Phil and Techno groaned simultaneously at Tommy’s actions, but Wilbur could tell they weren’t surprised. That was Tommy, after all. He did and said things like that all the time, and despite how fucking annoying it could be when they were trying to be serious, they loved him for it.

The library was a beautiful building built out of primarily dark oak wood and terracotta, and Wilbur found himself staring at it in awe. He wondered how much knowledge was stored in a place like this. What did the books inside contain? Stories of the gods? The history of the Dream SMP and incomplete books on the story of a nation called L’manberg that hadn’t quite found its footing yet? Fantasy books about heroes and villains and power that people in reality could only dream of? Wilbur may not have been the god of knowledge, but he could definitely appreciate a good book.

Karl led the group through the door, and if Wilbur had thought the outside was impressive, it was nothing compared to the inside. The walls were hidden behind bookshelves that climbed to the ceiling, ladders were placed at intervals around the room so that someone might reach the books on the highest shelf without trouble. The floors were carpeted so that the footsteps were muffled as they walked, not disturbing the small amounts of dust that were beginning to gather on the less popular books.

In the very back, sitting at a cluttered desk, was a figure with hair split in color down the middle, black on one side, white on the other. This was gathered into a small ponytail on the back of his head. He seemed absorbed in whatever he was working on, hunched over, muttering something under his breath that was impossible to make out. He was dressed in a slightly wrinkled suit jacket, hands covered in gloves that matched the split hair he had going on drumming on the desk, occasionally turning the pages of a worn leather book. He let out a sound of frustration that sounded eerily similar to the noises endermen made when they were upset, and his leg bounced up and down, as if it helped him concentrate.

“Hi Ranboo!” Karl called out, causing a surprised yelp to escape the man’s mouth as he shot straight up and whirled around to face the group. His face was visible now, and Wilbur could see that it was split almost down the middle, similar to his hair. He was tall as well, in a way that didn’t seem human. He had to be somewhere around eight and a half feet tall, and Wilbur was reminded again of the enderman comparison. Was this guy part enderman or something? It would make sense with the black markings on half his body, but then what did the white mean? It wasn’t a human type of pale, it reminded Wilbur more of the quartz from the nether that builders sought after so much. His eyes were white, staring at the group in shock and then confusion. These two were different colors, red and green this time.

He let out a shaky breath, “Oh, hi Karl,” he sighed, smoothing down his red tie, “I didn’t hear you come in, sorry about that! Uh… who are these people?” He nodded towards the gods, and Wilbur looked back to see Tommy’s eyes alight in recognition. Wilbur shot Tommy a questioning gaze, which was responded to with nothing more than a shrug.

Wilbur shook off his confusion and turned back to Ranboo to introduce the group, “I’m Wilbur. This is Philza, Tommy, and Technoblade. We’re the royal family of the Antarctic Empire, but we’ll be here for a while in order to help out in your war against this self-proclaimed King George.”

“Oh… right, the war,” Ranboo laughed nervously, “Yeah, I suppose you’re here to look at the records? One moment, let me grab them.”

He scrambled off in order to find whatever he kept the records in, and came back with another leatherbound book that read ‘War Records.’ Not a very creative name, but oh well.

While Philza began to skim through the book, Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno decided collectively to speak to Ranboo.

“So,” Techno spoke, raising an eyebrow, “you seem nervous about the war. Is there a reason for that?”

“Oh boy,” Ranboo muttered, “is it that noticeable? Uh… well, it’s just that I don’t really think this is going to end well for anyone. I mean, war never does really. Picking sides and fighting people that should be your friends only leads to pain and loss in the end, I learned that well enough in the first war. Plus, I mean, I don’t really want to fight someone with a god on his side. I know, I know. I’m a coward.”

Techno sighed, and looked Ranboo in the eyes as best he could without standing on some kind of chair, “Ranboo, for centuries men have claimed to be gods or have power granted by them at the least. This is no different. If you fight Dream, you won’t be fighting a god, you’ll be fighting nothing more than an overconfident man. Trust me, Ranboo, his arrogance will be his downfall, the true gods will see to that.”

“So, you don’t think he’s really a god, then?” Ranboo asked, blinking.

“No, I do not.”

Wilbur thought it was a wonder Techno wasn’t the god of poetry when he gave speeches like that, but Techno never had an affinity for turning his words into art. He preferred to give his blunt opinion on things, it just so happened that he couldn’t help but be slightly dramatic when doing so. Wilbur supposed it must have run in the family.

“Techno’s right,” Tommy said with a grin. Wilbur still couldn’t shake the feeling that Tommy knew this boy somehow, “I mean, he’s being a dramatic bitch, but he’s still right. That Dream guy isn’t a god, he’s just a pawn who’s deluded into thinking he’s a king. Sure, he’s surrounded by other pawns who he can order around, but when he falls he’ll fall hard.”

“And you called me dramatic,” Techno snorted.

“Listen here bitch, I was trying to make it easy to understand by using metaphors and shit!”

“Oh shut up,” Wilbur groaned, “you’re going to scare Ranboo.”

Ranboo did, in fact, look absolutely terrified. His gloved hand had migrated to the desk, protecting the book he had left there. Wilbur noticed the words hastily scrawled on the cover, ‘Do Not Read.’

“What’s that?” Tommy asked, noticing where Wilbur’s gaze had drifted.

“Oh, this?” Ranboo asked, clutching the book towards his chest, “that’s just my memory book. Nothing important, you know? Just where I write the things that happen to me so that I remember them.”

“Oh, is that what Karl was on about then?”

“Karl told you?” Ranboo asked, looking hurt.

“No,” Wilbur said quickly, “just that if you write something down while talking to us, it wasn’t a bad thing.”

Ranboo relaxed, looking around for Karl, before apparently realizing the man had left. He must have been out looking for Fundy.

“That’s good, that’s good,” Ranboo sighed, “I guess I should explain why I need it, huh?”

“I just kinda assumed it was a diary or some shit,” Tommy shrugged, promptly getting elbowed by both Techno and Wilbur, a message to shut up.

“Not quite. I have… I guess you would call it short term memory loss. I write this book so I don’t forget the important things… L’manberg, Tubbo, the things that happen to me. I’ve already lost anything I knew about my family, I can’t lose any more.”

Wilbur felt a pang of sympathy, and then a horrible thought occurred to him. Was this something he had caused by accident? A disease of the mind that was causing Ranboo to lose everything? That was definitely Wilbur’s domain. He hoped this wasn’t his doing, but there was no way of knowing otherwise.

“Well,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face, “that makes a lot of sense. Thank you for trusting us with that information, Ranboo. For the record, I think that makes you the best kind of brave.”

Chapter Text

Tommy was practically bouncing up and down during the encounter with Ranboo, but honestly, how could you blame him? You couldn’t put the god of wealth in a room with one of the richest men in the entire world and not expect him to be a bit giddy. He didn’t know Ranboo personally of course, but he had observed the man’s mining trips a few times, eyes wide at the sight of his pickaxe, enchanted with fortune. If Tommy directed the guy in the direction of large pockets of diamonds, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his own.

Of course, he couldn’t exactly let Ranboo know about his help in the man’s mining endeavours, that would mean revealing his godhood to a mortal, something all four deities had promised to avoid at all costs. Still, Tommy couldn’t help but feel drawn to the half-enderman. He didn’t want to leave with the others when Wilbur went to meet his son. He wanted to stay, keep talking to Ranboo. Find out more about the guy he had watched so closely from afar. The guy who perfectly embodied one of Tommy’s domains.

That was why, when Karl came back, announcing that he had found Fundy, Tommy made up an excuse in order not to go.

“I think I’ll stay here,” he said with a shrug, “you go meet this fox boy, I’ll see if I can learn more about what we’re up against. Not everything in life can be learned through reading.”

Phil gave Tommy a knowing look, as if something had clicked in his brain and he understood why the young god wanted to stay. Phil hadn’t known the name of the mortal Tommy had practically fanboyed over, but it didn’t take much to put two and two together. Phil was a smart guy, and Tommy was sure he knew that Ranboo was a potential friend that Tommy didn’t want to miss out on.

Before the other gods could protest, and Tommy could tell they were about to, Phil gave a small nod, “That’s a good idea, Toms. We’ll try to reconvene in a couple hours, alright? Don’t get into too much trouble, and for the gods’ sake, try not to annoy Ranboo too much.”

Tommy was offended at the idea that he would annoy Ranboo. Honestly, Tommy was a charming guy, despite what everyone else told him. Some people found him annoying, sure, but that was on them. They simply couldn’t handle the big man that Tommy was. Still, he gave a grin and a thumbs up as his family walked out the door.

“So,” Ranboo asked with a nervous smile, “what is it that you want to know?”

Tommy grinned up at the half-enderman, “I want to know what you people do for fun around here. Honestly, it can’t be doom and gloom all the time. Sure, this war is important and all, but a person would go mad if they focused all their energy on fighting and all that shit.”

“Oh,” Ranboo seemed surprised, “Well uh… Tubbo and I sometimes go trident flying, but it’s not really the right weather for that at the moment, and I have to be heavily armored to do that kind of thing, otherwise the rain hurts me.”

“Right, the whole half-enderman thing.”

“Yeah. I mean, Tubbo likes the flower fields nearby. We go sometimes to watch the bees. Or sometimes we go hiking.”

Tommy groaned under his breath, “That’s really not my kind of thing.” He suddenly got an idea, that was either genius or something the others would kill him for, it was too early to really tell, “How do you feel about music?”

Music wasn’t Tommy’s domain, but Wilbur had helped him on a project a while back, the creation of two music discs that Tommy kept on him at all times. These played songs that Wilbur and Tommy had titled Mellohi and Cat, but they were special, imbued with the power from both of their domains.

That was why showing these discs now was a big deal for Tommy. No mortal had ever seen or heard the music on the discs, not even Karl who came by so often. Of course, there was a first time for everything.

Tommy sat on a bench, overlooking a cliff as Ranboo and Tubbo (who Ranboo had dragged along, insisting the guy be there as well, considering he apparently had some kind of background in music) sat beside him. A jukebox had been placed nearby, and the two beside him were looking at him expectantly.

Tommy, taking a deep breath, fished the discs out of his bag and showed them to his new friends with a grin.

Ranboo frowned, “I’ve never seen those discs before, and I collect them. Tubbo, do those look like any you know?”

Tubbo shook his head, “Nope. Never seen a disc like those two before. Are they originals?” he turned to Tommy at this last part, tilting his head slightly which made his horns look lopsided.

“They sure are, big man,” Tommy nodded, “Mellohi and Cat.” He realized he needed to make up a lie about the origins of the discs, and began to spout something that wasn’t exactly false, but definitely wasn’t the whole truth, “these discs have been in my family for hundreds of years. I don’t know the full origin story, but there’s a rumor that they were gifted to us by the god of music and the god of loyalty, created as a combination of their domains. There’s a rumor that whoever listens to these discs together will be bound together as friends for all of eternity. Of course, that’s just a legend.”

Tubbo and Ranboo looked shocked and extremely impressed.

“Created by the gods? That’s absolutely insane,” Tubbo said, being the first to break the silence that had washed over the group right after Tommy’s speech, “If that’s true, those might be some of the most valuable pieces of history in the world. Some people would kill to have those in a museum or collection.”

“I know,” Tommy said with a nod, “which is why you can’t tell anyone about these. They’re my most prized possession. If I lose them, my family will kill me.”

Ranboo and Tubbo nodded, eyes still the size of saucers.

“Can we… listen to them?” Ranboo asked tentatively. He looked like he might want to touch the discs, confirm them as real, but he held his hands close to him, possibly afraid of damaging them.

Tommy nodded, “That’s why I brought them here. They’re made to be heard, not just to look pretty. Here, I’ll play Mellohi first.”

The disc slid easily into the jukebox, and a somber song began to play. It was beautiful, but sad. Perhaps longing. That’s what Tommy always thought of when he heard the song anyways. He had never asked Wilbur what the song was about, not wanting to pry into the thoughts of the god of madness. Perhaps hearing the things that went through Wilbur’s mind when composing music would drive him mad too.

Tubbo seemed to be counting beats, and Tommy could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he attempted to figure out how he could potentially play the song himself. Ranboo wasn’t lying when he said Tubbo had a musical mind.

Ranboo, unlike Tubbo, didn't pay much attention to how the music was put together, and instead seemed to be focusing on the piece as a whole. Not thinking about the individual pieces that much, just enjoying the melancholy melody.

When the disc was finished playing, Tommy removed it and placed Cat in the slot in its place. This one, in contrast to Mellohi, was happier. That was why Tommy always saved it until after Mellohi. It was almost like the hope emerging from the shadows after a time of darkness. A reminder that no matter how dark the night became, the sun would always rise the following day.

That disc finished eventually, leaving the group together in a comfortable silence. For all Tubbo and Ranboo knew, the legend might not have been true, but Tommy knew better. He felt the shift in their energy. A silence like this before would have been awkward, a loud nothingness, begging for some noise to calm the overactive imaginations of the children who sat there. Not anymore. A silence like this felt natural. Calm.

Fate had bound these three boys together, despite their differences. Despite the secrets each of them kept close to their chests. They were friends now.

Unbeknownst to them, however, a fourth man had been listening to the music, although he didn’t feel the same sudden shift in attitude to the others. He watched from the woods, listening silently, not making a sound as he looked on. He was remarkably well hidden despite his white hoodie and light blonde hair, and slowly walked away, taking the information he had gleaned with him. He had his orders, and a man waited for him back in a newly forming kingdom. He was going to be pleased to hear about this.

The man slunk away, leaving all three boys unaware of the fact that he was even there in the first place.

Tommy finally broke the silence with a sigh, putting the discs back away in his bag, safely. He secured the straps, and slung the bag back over his shoulders.

“Well, there we go,” he said with a smile, “those are the discs. Remember, don’t tell anyone about those. Not even my family. If they find out I let you listen to them, they might get nervous. They don’t like the prospect of other people knowing about those things, you know? Don’t want something that important getting stolen.”

Tommy wasn’t uneasy whatsoever about these two knowing about the existence of the discs. He might not have known them before today, but he had observed Ranboo from afar, and Ranboo seemed to trust Tubbo with his life. These two were his friends now, and Tommy couldn’t think of a single reason not to trust them.

“Of course!” Tubbo piped up, “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“Neither will I,” Ranboo said with a small nod, “the only record of them existing will be in my memory book, and I always keep that with me, so there’s no need to worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good,” Tommy nodded, relaxing as he faced toward the sunset that was beginning in front of them, “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tubbo nodded, “Of course. We’ll be in L’manberg, but there aren’t any big meetings tomorrow, so it’ll be all good as long as nothing happens out of our control.”

Ranboo groaned, playfully punching Tubbo on the shoulder, “What did we say about jinxing things like that,” he chided, “with our luck, tomorrow is going to be doomsday or something now.”

Tommy blinked, wondering whether or not the half-enderman was joking. Was that actually a thing? Did these two have bad luck? Some kind of curse that made bad things happen when they felt safe and secure? If so, Tommy was going to make sure that curse was undone. There was no reason his friends had to stay cursed when they had a god on their side, even if they didn’t know that. Then he realized that the two of them were trying not to crack up at Tommy’s nervous expression.

“Don’t worry, man,” Ranboo laughed, “we’re only kidding. Geez, you looked terrified for a second there. You alright?”

Tommy waved away the concerns and began to laugh as well, that kind of loud infectious wheezing laughter that his family so often made fun of him for. Soon enough, all three boys were giggling, trying to hold in their laughter, and cracking up again as soon as they saw the expressions on eachothers’ faces.

In that moment, there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind. He had made a good choice in befriending these two. If Tommy was mortal, he might have even called the three of them platonic soulmates, destined to find one another across all lifetimes. He’d seen very few people like that in the past, but they did exist. Tommy sometimes watched their lives unfold, grinning as he saw them find eachother again and click instantly. Sometimes they met as young children, sometimes they didn’t find their counterparts until late in life, but they always got along immediately, despite the obstacles in the way of their friendship.

Of course, Tommy was immortal. Immortals couldn’t die, they couldn’t be reborn, and Tommy had barely interacted with mortals before now other than Karl. When Tubbo and Ranboo died, there was no law of the universe dictating that the three of them would find eachother again, Ranboo and Tubbo different people going by different names, and Tommy the same as he’d ever been.

Tommy pushed those thoughts away. It didn’t matter that the lifetimes of these mortals were miniscule in terms of Tommy’s time in the universe. It didn’t matter that Tommy couldn’t bestow immortality upon them, allowing them to live forever as his friend, watching while their other friends and loved ones died. It would have been more of a curse than a blessing anyways.

No, Tommy wouldn’t dwell on what he knew would come in the future, he’d focus on life in the moment, and enjoy the time these boys were in his life while they were still here. Better not to grieve for people who were still alive and forget to cherish the time he had with them.

Tommy wasn’t laughing anymore. He didn’t know at what point he’d stopped, but he had.

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked cautiously, “are you alright? You’re kind of spacing out there.”

Tommy blinked, suddenly noticing Ranboo and Tubbo giving him looks of concern, neither of them laughing anymore either.

“Yeah,” the young god said, voice somewhat sadder than before, “yeah, I’m alright. Just tired. I should go… I’ll see you both tomorrow morning.”

Tommy gave the others a quick wave and took off into the woods, making his way back to L’manberg without waiting for the others to acknowledge his goodbye. It didn’t matter that they all were heading in the same direction, Tommy just needed some space to gather his thoughts before he saw his family.

“Gods,” he spoke finally, when he was sure nobody else could hear, “the others are going to kill me for getting attached.”

Chapter Text

Wilbur may have been ready to protest Tommy staying behind, but that had more been for Ranboo’s sake than anyone else’s. In all honesty, Wilbur was a little bit glad he wasn’t with the group now, as his comments tended to annoy or overwhelm new people. If Wilbur wanted to make a good first impression on his son, Tommy being there wasn’t going to be helpful.

In all honesty, Wilbur wasn’t ready for this. He knew he wasn’t ready. He doubted he would ever be ready for this kind of thing, but he didn’t really have a choice. What kind of parent would he be if he never did anything for his son? It was already bad enough that he couldn’t reveal his identity to the kid.

Nothing prepared Wilbur for the surge of pride he felt, looking at the boy as he approached. He was young, perhaps slightly younger than Tubbo and Ranboo, though Wilbur couldn’t really tell, and Karl hadn’t been lying about the resemblance. Fundy’s hair curled in the messy way Wilbur’s always had before he had learned how to take care of it and style it. His mother’s hair had been straight, so Wilbur supposed he didn’t have anyone to teach him how to manage the loose curls. His eyes were a warm brown that contrasted with the apprehensive expression he wore, as if he didn’t quite trust the newcomers. His hair was red, like Sally’s had been, but a little more muted, matching the color of the fox ears and tail that ruined the illusion that he was fully human.

It was all he could do not to run towards the boy and engulf him in a hug, confess the truth, and promise he’d never abandon his child again, but he couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. If he let that kind of thing slip, it could jeopardize the privacy of all the gods, something none of them wanted. They appreciated mortals, yes, but for the most part they preferred to keep to themselves.

“Hey Fundy!” Karl said with a grin, either oblivious to WIlbur’s emotional turmoil, or choosing not to comment on it, “meet the royal family of the Antarctic Empire. Part of the royal family at least, Tommy’s still at the library with Ranboo, but you’ll probably meet him sometime soon.”

Fundy still looked on edge, but he raised a hand in greeting, “Hello… uh, am I supposed to bow?”

“No need to worry about that, mate,” Philza laughed, “we aren’t crazy about those formalities.”

Fundy seemed relieved, and nodded, “Did they warn you about me?”

“What do you mean?” Techno asked, although Wilbur was sure Techno knew exactly what he meant.

“About what I can sense,” Fundy muttered, “I figured maybe they hadn’t warned you. New people usually don’t seek me out if they know.” The young boy looked at his feet, clearly nervous. He may have been trying to hide it, but the say his ears and tail twitched gave him away.

“We know what you can do, Fundy,” Wilbur said, finally speaking, trying not to choke on his words, “Tubbo told us earlier, and we aren’t going to let something like that stop us from getting to know you.”

“You aren’t scared? You don’t think I’m cursed?”

Wilbur shook his head, allowing a small grin to creep onto his lips, “No, I don’t think you’re cursed. I knew someone who could do things like you can, Fundy. He was scared of what he could sense, and worried that it made him a bad person, but you know what? He had a group of people who taught him that he wasn’t a bad guy because of something he couldn’t control.”

Fundy’s eyes were wide, perhaps he was shocked at the idea that there was someone else like him in the world. Of course, the man Wilbur was referring to was himself, but he didn’t tell Fundy that. One day he would, but not now.

“You knew someone like me?” Fundy asked, his voice wavering, as if he suspected Wilbur might be lying, as if he couldn’t dare to hope that he wasn’t alone in the world.

“Yeah, back in the Antarctic Empire,” Wilbur nodded, “Maybe you’ll meet him one day. I think he’d really like you.”

“How do you know that? You barely know me.”

“Trust me,” Techno spoke, stopping Wilbur before he could reply, “Wilbur is a fairly good judge of character. If he thinks you’d get along with his friend, he’s probably right.”

A faint smile seemed to grow on Fundy’s face, and Wilbur felt his heart swell with emotions. He was talking to his son, and this boy, though he didn’t know it, Made Wilbur want to fight the world for him. If anything or anyone hurt his boy, they were going to pay.

“I know you don’t know your father,” Wilbur said quietly, “and I can’t claim to know the full story behind why he left, but I think if he could see you now, he’d be crazy not to be proud of you.”

“But I haven’t done anything to make him proud,” Fundy said bitterly, “if I had, he’d be here.”

Phil stepped in, “Fundy, your father was wrong to leave you, but as a father myself, I can promise that pride in your children isn’t based on what they’ve done. Even if I was a poor man, and my children grew up without the opportunities that they have, I would be proud of them because at the end of the day, they’re my little boys, and though they may fight and make mistakes, I wouldn’t change a thing about them. No matter why your father left before he knew you, I think he’d be proud if he met you today.”

There was a moment of silence, everyone soaking in Philza’s words, allowing the comforting nature to calm them. At that moment, Wilbur thought Phil should have been the god of motivational speaking. His words always managed to resonate with people, as if he always had the answers to every problem. He could make anyone feel better just by being there and talking.

“You really think so?” Fundy asked. Wilbur couldn’t help but notice that the boy’s eyes were watery with tears threatening to spill out.

All three gods nodded, along with Karl who was still standing behind them, watching their conversation. They had forgotten he was there, until they had his head nodding along out of the corner of their eyes.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” Karl said with a grin, “Niki’s bakery is nearby. Trust me, she’s better at baking than anyone else I know. My treat.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Wilbur spoke quickly, “money is no object, you don’t need to pay for Techno, Phil, and I.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Karl waved it away, “I already said it’s my treat, now come on. The bakery isn’t too far from here, but it closes in an hour so we can’t take too long. Niki’s sweet and all, but I don’t want to make her feel obligated to stay open longer than her usual hours.”

Feeling like it was useless to fight Karl on this, they followed him as he waved them in the direction that Niki’s bakery must have been in. Fundy still seemed slightly awkward, attempting to trail behind, but the others made sure to include him in their conversation, joking, and even getting him to laugh a couple times.

The bakery wasn’t a very impressive building, but Wilbur had to say he liked the simplicity of it. Karl pushed open the door, allowing the group to follow him in, and a bell rang as he did, catching the attention of the woman behind the counter.

“Oh, hello there!” she said, seeming surprised to have customers so late. She was around average height for a woman, which naturally meant Wilbur had to look down to meet her eyes because of how tall he was. Her hair was a light blonde color and straight. Round glasses framed her face, and she had a rather soft welcoming smile on her face that made Wilbur certain she was kind.

“Hi Niki!” Karl greeted her enthusiastically, “Meet Wilbur, Philza, and Technoblade. They’re the royal family of the Antarctic Empire.”

Niki gave a small wave, before smoothing down her apron, which she wore overtop of a colorful striped sweater, “It’s nice to meet you all! And Fundy, I haven’t seen you here in a while, you want your usual order?”

Fundy gave a small smile, “That’d be great, thanks Niki.”

“You too, Karl?”

“You know me so well,” Karl joked.

Niki scrawled something down on a pad of paper, before looking up to the other members of the group, “Everything we have to eat is in the display case, other than our house made vanilla ice cream, which you can get in either a cup, or between two of our cookies. In terms of drinks, I have hot chocolate, coffee, a couple types of teas, and lemonade.”

Wilbur thought everything sounded amazing, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat a huge amount of food, plus he didn’t want to hurt Karl’s wallet too badly. He examined the case, and picked out something that sounded good.

“I’ll have a lemon scone and a cup of breakfast tea, with milk if you have it, but no sugar.”

Niki began to write his order down, “and do you want anything with your scone? Jam? Clotted cream?”

“Clotted cream would be perfect, thank you,” Wilbur said, giving Niki a small smile.

Techno placed his order next, asking only for a simple cinnamon muffin with a cup of coffee. Most people, when they met Techno, assumed he only drank his coffee black, but in reality he hated the bitter taste and took it with cream and a few heaping spoons of sugar.

Phil, on the other hand, did take his coffee black. He had ordered a cheese danish with along with his coffee.

When Phil had finished, the group sat down at one of the larger tables in the room, waiting for their orders to be ready.

“So what’s the Antarctic Empire like?” Fundy asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

“Cold,” Techno said bluntly.

Wilbur elbowed him, annoyed, “What Techno means is that it’s pretty much always winter there. There’s a lot of snow on the ground usually, so we have to wear heavy coats while we’re outside. The kids there like to have snowball fights a lot, especially Tommy, my little brother, except he’s rather dramatic when he gets hit. I can’t tell you how many times he’s freaked the little kids out by collapsing to the ground and pretending to be mortally wounded.”

Techno laughed at Wilbur’s slight lie, and Phil smiled fondly. Sure, Tommy might not have been freaking out small children, but that had been one of his more common pranks for a while. Karl was scowling slightly, as if remembering the time Tommy had pranked him in that way on one of his past visits. The scowl didn’t last long, however, and they quickly found themselves laughing, and sharing more stories about Tommy’s history of pranking everyone in the Empire.

By the time Phil has finished telling one about how Tommy had replaced all the books in the family library with stories titled ‘How to Sex,’ Niki had delivered their orders, and she was listening and laughing along with them.

Fundy’s usual turned out to be a scoop of vanilla ice cream served between two chocolate chip cookies, with a mug of hot chocolate that seemed to have a couple of marshmallows bobbing up and down in it. Karl’s, on the other hand, was a glass of cold lemonade and a cupcake with vanilla frosting and decorative sprinkles.

“It sounds like a nice place,” Fundy decided, after finishing his dessert and wiping his mouth with his arm, “I’d like to visit it one day, I think.”

Wilbur exchanged a look with the other, before nodding, “Maybe one day. You’d definitely like it there, even if Tommy can be a bit much, especially when he’s not someone’s guest. He does try to tone it down a bit when he’s a visitor, but even when he’s turned down, he’s a menace.”

Phil chuckled, “Wilbur says that, but when he was Tommy’s age he wouldn’t stop pestering people to listen to the songs he wrote. I swear, he had a new one every day just about. He’s always had a gift for music, but his lyrics weren’t always the strongest.”

Techno snorted, “What? You mean you weren’t a fan of his hit song, ‘The Snow is Really Fucking Cold’, Phil?” he asked sarcastically.

Wilbur’s face flushed, and he pulled his beanie down further in an attempt to hide the red tint to his ears, “Yeah, well at least I didn’t challenge a little kid to see who was the better potato farmer. I swear to the gods, potatoes made me sick for a whole year after that, it’s all we ever ate.”

“Potatoes?” Niki asked, laughing, “out of all things, you farmed potatoes?”

Techno shrugged, “The kid was boasting about having the best potato farm in the world. I thought I could do better, and I was right.”

“I think you traumatized that poor boy,” Phil said with a shake of his head, though he was smiling.

The group of six dissolved into laughter at that, knowing Phil was probably right. They had finished their food by now, and it was definitely past the time that Niki was supposed to close. Wilbur noticed the moon rising in the sky.

“Well, it was nice meeting you two,” he said, addressing Fundy and Niki, “and thank you again for the tour, Karl, but we really should be going. Tommy’s probably waiting for us, and I think we all could use some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

The group said their goodbyes, except for Karl who still had to show the group of gods to where they would be staying, and parted ways. Niki was closing shop now, and Fundy was heading back home, having stayed up for longer than he was used to and being about ready to collapse and fall asleep.

By the time they met up with Tommy, stars dotted the sky. Karl pointed them to their living quarters, but allowed them to get settled for themselves, leaving them to check out the place they’d be staying as long as they were in L’manberg.

“So how was your day, Tommy,” Phil asked as they were beginning to unpack their things in the common area, out of which four small bedrooms branched out.

“Oh, it was alright,” Tommy started, his words going quickly as if Tommy thought they might not catch what he was saying if he said it fast, “spent some time with Tubbo and Ranboo, showed them the discs, we’re now bound as friends for life, you know. Everyday stuff.”

Wilbur stared at him in shock, “You did fucking what?”

“...spent the day with Tubbo and Ranboo?”

Techno groaned, “Tommy, you can’t just trust people you don’t know with that kind of thing. What did you even tell them?”

“That the discs have been in the family for generations and are rumored to be gifts from the gods,” Tommy said, “and trust me, if Tubbo and Ranboo were bad guys, I’d know. I trust them both. If I could die, I’d trust them with my life. I don’t know, Tubbo just… he reminds me of Robin, and I’ve been watching Ranboo for years. He’s the mortal I kept going on about.”

All three other gods softened at the mention of Robin, Tommy’s friend from hundreds of years ago who had died too soon.

“Tommy,” Phil spoke, breaking the silence that Robin’s name had brought on, “I trust your judgement, but you need to be careful, alright? Don’t let people take advantage of your trust. If you ever suspect for even a moment that Tubbo or Ranboo’s intentions are anything other than good, you get out of there. Wilbur will make sure they forget anything you’ve told them about the discs.”

Wilbur nodded seriously, “If either of them tries to take advantage of you, they’ll be dealing with a lot more than memory loss.”

Tommy swallowed, but nodded, “Alright, alright. I promise. Trust me, you won’t need to do any of that.”

Wilbur only hoped Tommy was right.

Chapter Text

Dream didn’t believe he was a god. He knew he was mortal, despite what those who criticized him seemed to think. He’d heard of the whispers, people saying he had a god complex, but that simply wasn’t accurate. People with a god complex genuinely thought they were god. Dream wasn’t like that.

So why would he tell people he was one? Simple. Dream was a smart man. He knew Eret’s citizens were loyal. He knew people disliked George. Nobody would follow George as a king without Dream backing him, and even that had been starting to become ineffective.

Dream was simply being logical. People follow what they fear, people fear what they don’t understand, and if there’s one thing people don’t understand, it’s the concept of gods. Throw in the fact that the gods didn’t like to mingle with mortals or reveal their identities, and Dream was convinced he had a recipe for success.

The only thing he needed was a spy, and Dream’s old friend Punz was perfect for the job. As long as Dream kept him paid a decent amount, Punz did his job and he did it well.

Now, Dream stood in the woods, alone, until he wasn’t. A flash of white signified Punz’s arrival. Dream had joked one day that Punz could probably remain unnoticed in even the most blinding color, and Punz had apparently taken it as a challenge, because he always seemed to wear those white hoodies of his.

“Punz, hello.” Dream’s voice was level, calm, and casual. He had a carefully constructed facade, and just because Punz was a friend, didn’t mean he could break character. You never knew who might be listening. “I suppose you bring news?”

Punz dropped down from the tree he had been perched in, not returning Dream’s small smile, perhaps because it was hidden behind his mask, or perhaps simply because of how seriously Punz took his job. His feet barely made a noise as they hit the ground, muffled by his soft-soled boots.

“Yes,” Punz spoke, his voice just a level as Dream’s own, “but you aren’t going to like it.”

“Oh?” Dream asked, tilting his head slightly.

“A group of four travelers from beyond the Frozen Wood arrived today, claiming to be the rulers of a country called the Antarctic Empire. All four are men. All fairly tall, but the eldest seems to be the shortest, a man they call Philza. I believe the other three are his sons, though I’m not sure if they’re adopted or not.”

Dream gestured for Punz to continue.

“They’ve made an alliance with King Eret and L’manberg. The youngest, Tommy, seems to have taken a liking to President Tubbo and Ranboo. Overheard him talking to them and decided to check it out, see if he had some worthwhile information to pass along.”

Dream raised an eyebrow, not that it could be seen behind his mask, “Did he? Or are you here to tell me you wasted your time spying on teenage bonding activities? I don’t want to hear about friendship bracelets and flower crowns or whatever.”

“Trust me, this is huge. He had these music discs, none I’ve ever seen before, started spouting off something about how the discs were supposedly a gift from the gods to his family or something. Listen, I know it sounds like bullshit, but something was weird about those discs. He claimed they’d make whoever listened to them together closer friends, bond them together, and the way they acted after listening to them… it was like they’d known each other for years.”

“If you heard the discs, why aren’t you off becoming besties with children?” Dream asked with a small chuckle, not quite believing the story.

“I wasn’t invited, was I. Even then, it was weird. It was like those stories about sirens. I almost felt like I needed to get closer, hear the discs more clearly. I promise you, Dream, those discs are important.”

Dream considered that for a moment. Truth be told, these discs did sound intriguing. Sure, Tommy could have been spouting absolute bullshit, but if he was telling the truth…

“We control those discs, we control the war. We can use them to force people to swap sides, pretend to extend the olive branch, and get them on our sides. Punz, can you steal them?”

Punz grinned, “I’m the best, Dream. If I can’t steal them, nobody can. Give me three days, that’s all I need.”

Dream nodded, “Three days, Punz. Nothing more.”

Just as quickly as he arrived, Punz was gone, leaving Dream to his thoughts. Control the discs, control the people. It was simple, honestly, so simple Dream had to laugh. Really, couldn’t they have made it a challenge for him to seize control? It was so easy it was boring.

That Tommy boy though, he interested Dream. Befriending people so quickly, he had to have charisma to spare. Plus, those discs… what were they doing in the possession of a sixteen year old boy? It was odd. There was something off about Tommy and the so-called Antarctic Empire and Dream intended to find out what it was and exploit it.

Everybody had secrets, right? Dream was certain this family wasn’t an exception. It was only a matter of finding out what those secrets were and using them to his advantage.

A small chuckle escaped Dream’s lips, loud and jarring compared to the unnatural quiet of the woods around him. He turned on his heel and quickly walked back the way he’d come, whistling a quiet tune as he went. His feet weren’t silent, but they didn’t have to be. He commanded enough respect that anyone who heard him would leave him be for the most part. Whether that was out of fear or admiration didn’t matter as long as it worked.

“Tommy,” Dream muttered, “good luck. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other very soon. Try not to make this too boring for me, okay?”

Then, Dream was gone, and the forest resumed its usual noise, as if every creature had been collectively holding their breaths, waiting to hear what the masked man had to say.

Chapter Text

When Tommy awoke, it was to the sound of finches and other birds singing outside his window. Light streamed through the cracks in the curtains, momentarily blinding the teen as he stretched, and began to pull himself out of bed. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he wasn’t home, in the Arctic where the gods liked to stay, but in L’manberg where he had arrived the previous day. The songbirds had been a dead giveaway. Tommy wasn’t as good with different bird species as Philza, or as good with music as Wilbur, but the birds here were less few and far between than they were back home. A yawn escaped his lips, and he didn’t do much to attempt to stifle it.

Wondering if anyone else had woken yet, or if he had been the first, Tommy left the cozy room he would be calling home for however long he had to stay in L’manberg, and entered the family’s common area.

Now that Tommy wasn’t exhausted, he found himself admiring the place more. There was a nice living area with rather soft looking armchairs and a couch around a fireplace, as well as a door that Tommy assumed led to a bathroom, and a room just off the side of the living area that Tommy guessed was a kitchen, though the gods didn’t have enough rations to properly cook something there.

Sitting in the armchair closest to the fire was Technoblade, reading his worn out copy of The Art of War, his favorite book, though Tommy had never understood Techno’s fondness of it. Nobody else seemed to be around, so Tommy sat down on the couch and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Morning Tech,” Tommy said with a tired grin, “you sleep well?”

“Not particularly,” Techno grumbled, not looking up from his book, “I never sleep well during war.”

Tommy supposed that made sense. When he was a new god, freshly born out of the Aether, he had assumed that Techno loved war, enjoyed it. He had been wrong, he knew that now. Technoblade had no love for war, the slaughter of innocents and guilty men and women alike. No, for Techno war was something that simply had to happen, almost like a chore on a to-do list. Something that he would love to be rid of, but simply couldn’t escape. Not when the voices insisted blood must be shed.

That was the thing about Techno that had surprised Tommy the most when he’d learned it so many hundreds of years ago. He always seemed so calm, so well put together. It was hard to imagine the hundreds of thousands of voices milling about in his mind, demanding that others pay for the fates they had received themselves. Techno heard the voices of the casualties of war.

Not all of them of course, just some. Some of them were even innocents, pleading with Techno to protect those like themselves who were never meant to be caught in the crossfire. Far more, however, were men who relished in bloodshed and fighting, who laughed in the face of death. Those were the ones who had named Techno ‘The Blood God’. If enough people start believing that a god's domain encompasses something, the domain shifts to meet the expectations of the people.

Techno hadn’t always been the blood god. Tommy knew that, but he knew nothing of the time before he received the title. Technoblade never talked about it and everyone knew better than to ask.

“Right, I should have expected that,” Tommy said, with an apologetic laugh, “you alright?”

“I will be as soon as Dream is either disgraced or dead.”

“Won’t be long now.”

“I hope you’re right, Toms.”

Tommy gave a quick nod, then glanced around the room, “Where are Phil and Wilbur?” he asked, hoping they weren’t still asleep.

“Went to get some food from the market,” Techno shrugged, “said something about not letting me go because I only ever buy potatoes.”

Tommy snorted, “Well they aren’t exactly wrong, are they. I’m convinced potatoes are all you know how to cook.”

“...No comment.”

It didn’t take long for the other two gods to walk in, bearing packages of produce and what appeared to be fresh meat from a butcher nearby, steak from the looks of it. Only enough for the morning meal, likely because the ice chest didn’t have any ice in it.

Tommy groaned at this news, “I told you, we should have tried to convince the mortals I was the god of all weather, not just electricity. It would make stuff like this way easier.”

Phil took the wheel this time with breakfast and made steak with eggs and asparagus, as well as some tomatoes as well that Tommy ate, although they were probably his least favorite part of the meal.

“So, plans for today?” Phil asked.

“I’m going to hang out with Tubbo and Ranboo,” Tommy said immediately, leaving no room for argument, “They said there aren’t any big meetings today so it’s not like I’m messing up something serious, don’t worry.”

Wilbur gave a shrug, “I’ve got no plans, I’ll probably just go with you. Techno, what about you?”

“I want to have a talk with Eret and his knight, Puffy. See if he has any information I can use.”

Phil nodded, “I assume you’d rather go alone?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, I supposed I’ll go along with Tommy and Wil. Someone has to make sure they don’t tear each other's heads off.”

“Hey, we don’t fight that much!” Tommy insisted, frowning, “we get along just fine, don’t we Wilbur?”

Wilbur laughed and shook his head, the kind of warm laugh that made everyone in the room want to be in on whatever joke had caused the outburst, “Toms, I love you and all, but you’re annoying as shit. Phil is probably right.”

“I’m not annoying!” Tommy protested, “I’m a big charismatic man and everyone loves me.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “Sure you are. Alright, let’s get going then, shall we?”

The air was cool, but not cold that morning in L’manberg. People bustled through the streets, buying things from market stalls or talking to their neighbors. It was all so… normal. Completely foreign to the group of gods who now walked amongst them. The domesticity was jarring, in all honesty. It was easy to forget the country was preparing for war.

Tommy walked ahead of his father and brother, but they didn’t lag far behind, despite the occasional complaining from Wilbur about how Tommy was way too energetic for it being so early in the morning.

“How are you going so fast?” he groaned, “aren’t you tired?”

Tommy only laughed and shook his head, “I’ve got pep in my step, bitch!”

Wilbur groaned again, but didn’t question it, and soon the three gods had arrived in the center of town, where a large oak grew in a bed of dirt, surrounded by the wooden paths of the city.

When they got closer, Tommy could make out the words on a plaque, explaining the history of this tree.

'The L’mantree, a landmark untouched by wars and conflict since the beginning. The only tree left standing since the founding of our nation. This tree is under protection by the government. Any damage to the tree will be considered an act of treason. Please, help us preserve our history by keeping the L’mantree safe and healthy.'

Tommy had just finished reading the plaque, when two excited voices called his name, and the pounding of footprints alerted him to the people running towards him.

He whirled around to see Tubbo and Ranboo, both in casual clothing, both looking significantly less serious than they had the previous day. Ranboo’s grin was slightly calmer than Tubbo’s, but no less genuine, and his long legs caused him to reach the group long before Tubbo did, causing the president to groan.

“You always do that!”

Ranboo just laughed, “Tubbo, I can’t help it. It’s not my fault you have short legs.”

Tubbo huffed a sigh, “And it’s not my fault you’re a freakishly tall half-enderman, but here we are.”

Tommy and Ranboo burst out laughing, while Wilbur and Phil looked on in amusement.

“So, Tubbo,” Wilbur said, “what’s the anthem of L’manberg? I was thinking I’d learn it while I was here. I like music a lot.”

Tubbo blinked, confused, “We don’t actually have an anthem. I know music, but I really have no idea how to write something like that. Nobody else in the cabinet really knows that much about music though, so we just kind of… forgot about it.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened slightly, “Every good nation needs an anthem. You want some help writing one?”

“Really?” Tubbo asked, “You’d do that?”

Tommy and Phil laughed at the idea.

“Trust me,” Phil said, “Wilbur just wants a chance to show off his composition skills.”

“Big man Wilbur is great at music and shit,” Tommy grinned, “I know a little piano, but I’m nothing compared to him on the guitar.”

Wilbur was blushing, but Tubbo nodded, “Alright then! If you’d like to help, Wilbur, I’d really appreciate it!”

Time passed quickly as they sat under the L’mantree and Wilbur strummed chords on his guitar. Every once in a while, someone would throw out an idea for the lyrics and they’d test it out to see if it fit.

By the time a few hours had passed, they were fairly sure they had it down.

Their voices mixed together, creating a soft melody, as they sang.

“I heard there was a special place

Where men could go and emancipate

The brutality,

And the tyranny

Of their rulers

Well, this place is real

You needn’t fret

With Tubbo,

Big Q,

Ranboo,

And the rest

It’s a very big and beautiful L’manberg

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

We built our walls to protect our land

Through winter, summer, snow, and sand,

And together we created sanctuary

But our L’manberg had a test

To prove our armies could contest

A war intent on ending what we’d begun

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

Our L’manberg

We fought the armies to break our bonds

From the old country that lay beyond

And lies were told that almost had destroyed us

But then a figure rose to the fight,

With bravery, she was our knight

Who saved the day for our now great L’manberg

We sing L’manberg

We sing L’manberg

We sing L’manberg

Our L’manberg”

The last chord played, and for a moment there was silence, as the group marvelled at what they had just created.

Then, the crowds around them broke into applause, startling many of the group who had forgotten they were in public. Several members of the crowd they had drawn were crying, as if remembering the war they had lost so much in.

From the reaction of the crowd, they knew this was it. This was the anthem of L’manberg. It would be sung until the country no longer existed. As long as people could see the L’manberg flag, waving overhead, they would remember the words.

Every great nation needs an anthem, and now, L’manberg was truly great.

Chapter Text

Hello! I am here to let you all know that I am no longer hyperfixated on the dream smp. I still want to update this fic and my other ongoing one in the future, but I don't know when that will be as my new hyperfixation on The Owl House has made it difficult to focus on anything else. Thanks for understanding!