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Sapnap stood on the continuation of the prime path, the one that formerly led straight up to the door of the community house. Shattered glass crunched beneath his boots as he maneuvered around the piles of debris made up of charred brick, wood, and stone. The half walls and crooked pillars that still stood cast long, eerie shadows across the floor, blocking out the red glow of the setting sun behind him in flickering patches. Cooled cinders were still falling, drifting slowly through the sky, twisting in the faint breeze, like snow. Muddy water littered with flakes of dark ash floating on the murky surface bubbled softly. The air was heavy with smoke.
It was hard to believe it was gone. If he looked ahead, he could see what was left of the chests. Their loot was scattered across the ground, looking just as ruined and scarred with ash as the rest of the place. He stared at the place where Tommy and Tubbo had fought earlier that day. The place where Tommy eventually betrayed Technoblade, and where Dream and Techno teamed up immediately afterwards.
Sapnap wasn't sure how he felt about his best friend working with Techno. He kicked a piece of glass away, listened to it skitter across the remnants of the crafting table floors then eventually drop into the water with a faint splash. The silence burned in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily.
Or maybe he did, and he was just afraid of the answer.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed aside a burnt slab of wood and sat on the scraps of the steps. The water that had been flowing down from the remains of the community house's roof had been cleared up shortly after the events of the afternoon, leaving a few slippery puddles around the edges of the former foundations.
He felt uncomfortable with it, that's what. Dream had changed, and it was a bad change. Sapnap thought about the way his friend had yelled at Tommy, the rage and brutal honesty in his words piercing Sapnap's heart with thorns. He remembered the way his heart had dropped like a stone in a pool. "I don't give a fuck about anything actually. I care about your discs. ...That's the only thing I care about in this server actually!"
He dragged his gaze around the ruins that surrounded him. Pictured the place as it had been when they'd started building it, trying to ignore the way his nose stung and his eyes watered. He thought about George's purple bed, how adamant he was about having it, even though he couldn't even see the colour. The way Dream wheezed when George tried to capture the skeleton under the water with glass blocks. The smile in Dream's voice as he told George to stop blocking him in when he was doing the renovations. Planting the first seeds in their farm and having to sit through George and Dream's stupid, friendly banter.
"What are you thinking about?"
The soft British voice came from directly in front of him, and he glanced up to see George standing rather awkwardly, nudging at a brick with his foot. Sapnap angrily dragged the back of his wrist across his eyes, sniffing aggressively.
"Just ... this place. The community house."
George glanced at him, his face half-lit in the red light, his brown eyes dark and downcast. He made a sound in his throat, opening his mouth to speak before he decided against it and instead sat down next to him.
"It's just ... hard to believe it's gone, y'know?" Sapnap continued, his voice strained. George nodded. "It's like ... it survived so much. It's always been here; a safe haven for anyone who comes across it. It's the first place new members go. We built it, George, and Tommy just ... blew it up. Just like that. Right when we were about to have peace."
George frowned. "I'm not entirely convinced that it was Tommy," he confessed slowly, and Sapnap turned quickly, staring at his friend.
"Why not? Who else would've done it?"
George pursed his lips, twisting his hands in his lap. "I don't know, it just seemed like Tommy was telling the truth. It would've been a stupid thing to do, too, especially since he got exiled for burning my mushroom house. Imagine the consequences if he really had --"
"But, George, we don't have to imagine the consequences," he interrupted.
Doomsday. Their eyes met for a split second, before George quickly broke the connection and swallowed hard.
"You don't think Dream and Techno will really ... blow up L'Manberg, do you?" he mumbled, and Sapnap shrugged helplessly.
"I think there's no telling what Dream will do now. I hardly even know him anymore, it feels like."
He remembered all the time him and Dream had spent together, surviving years and years alone, before anyone else had even come. The late nights in their makeshift camps in the woods, laughing and eating by the flickering fire. So carefree, unburdened by war and loss and their own corrupted power. The memories were overwhelming.
He used to know Dream like the back of his own hand. They were as close as brothers.
"Maybe you're right," said Sapnap contemplatively, looking down at his netherite boots. The enchantments on them glowed and sparkled faintly in the shadows of the falling evening. "About the Tommy thing, I mean. And even if he did blow it up ...."
George finished his sentence for him, his eyes fixed on the landscape ahead of them. "...Maybe it's time we sided with him anyway?"
Sapnap looked over to his friend. Watched the emotions chasing each other across his face.
Neither of them spoke for a few tense moments. The thing was, there wasn't any reason to deny it anymore. Dream had changed. Whether it was Tommy's discs, or his need for power in general ... whatever it was, he didn't care about them anymore.
"It just hurts," George whispered suddenly, looking down and at his hands, and Sapnap half-smiled with bitterness.
"Yeah. Yeah, it hurts."
Sapnap looked to the horizon, where he could still just barely see the sun peeking out. The first stars had started to make their way across the now purple sky, and if he looked to the other side he could see the moon high above them. He wondered how many times him and George and Dream had sat on the roof of the community house, fishing in the water below for name tags, talking and laughing and watching the sun set.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost convince himself it was still real.
If he opened his eyes, he'd have to let go for good. He felt George leaning into his side, listened to the water trickling into the holes and puddles all over the remains. He breathed in the air as the cool night breeze swept away the heavy scent of smoke, exhaling slowly and letting his posture sag, leaning into George as well as he and his friend drifted slowly to sleep for one last time in the ruins of their past.