Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur Soot was not a merciful god. He was not one to be kind to a single soul or spare anyone, no matter how innocent they might be. He was sadistic, in a sense, but that descriptor was so . . . mortal. He was not to be described in any sense of human detail, as he was nowhere near close to human. No human would be so cruel, no human would exist without the slightest shred of empathy for creatures that existed with such short lives. In Wilbur’s godly eyes, humans were finite weaklings that had no use except for entertainment, and he could not comprehend how any person or immortal could care for one.

Until he met Tommyinnit.

Tommy was a spitfire human that Wilbur met when the blond was only fourteen-years-old, a small amount of time to such an infinite being. When Wilbur first saw the teen, he simply wrote him off as just another mortal, but found himself surprised when the boy turned and gave him a smile before pulling out an iron sword and killing an approaching zombie. The smile had caught Wilbur off guard, seeing as no human had ever given him such a joyful look before. There was some type of aura around the god, a threatening ambience that surrounded him wherever he went even when he was in his more human form, and it tended to send mortals running at the very sight of him. He had never seen a human meet his eyes with no fear.

Furthermore, the boy had immediately killed a mob. The killing of the zombie in and of itself was not particularly impressive, as Wilbur had seen many creatures die, both by his own hands and by the hands of others. This death was by no means spectacular, but when the human boy turned around, he was taken aback by the bloodlust in his eyes. It was not the bloodlust of a conquering emperor, nor that of a vicious killer, but it was almost . . . godly, in its own sense. It felt similar to Wilbur's own sadistic tendencies. It drew the god in, interested by a human for more than entertainment for the very first time in his existence.

“Oi, bitch!” the human called out to Wilbur. “Why are you so close to my house?!”

Oh, yes, Wilbur already liked this human a lot.

♔♔♔

Wilbur Soot was a merciless god that did not feel anything towards humans, besides a sense of bloodlust, until he met Tommyinnit. There was something different about this human, something that Wilbur simply could not put his finger on. That night he met Tommy, the boy had let the god into his home, offered him food, and allowed him to stay the night, though with mild complaining. In any other situation, Wilbur would’ve killed him on the spot, but he didn’t, and the two were quick to become friends.

Wilbur could tell that Tommy knew there was something different about him, something inhuman about the brunet that lingered underneath his smiles and jokes. Still, he had never pushed Wilbur to talk about it, until the god eventually told him. The two had both remembered that night well.

♔♔♔

“Tommy, we need to talk,” Wilbur announced one night as the two had dinner together in the teen’s tiny kitchen. Tommy stopped eating and looked up from where he was sitting across from the god.

“Is everything okay?” Tommy asked cautiously, setting down his utensils to pay full attention to the brunet.

“There’s something I’ve been hiding from you.” Wilbur did not break eye contact as Tommy leaned forward with interest, mischief and excitement shining in the teen’s blue eyes.

Wilbur gave one of his more sadistic smiles, the type he gave to humans right before he slaughtered them in his challenges.

“I’m a god.”

Tommy’s eyes immediately widened as he stared at the now revealed god. Wilbur, no matter how hard he tried, could not decipher what emotion the teen was feeling. Eventually, the blond nodded slowly in acceptance of the fact, picked up his fork, and began eating again.

“Are you not scared?” Wilbur interrogated, feeling a sort of confusion that did not usually plague him. “I am the god Wilbur Soot, known for trapping humans in unbeatable challenges before slaughtering them. Do you feel no fear in my presence?”

Tommy laughed a bit, meeting the god’s eyes once more. “If you wanted to kill me, Wil, you probably would’ve done so already. I doubt you take the time to gain the trust of every single mortal player before throwing them into your challenges.”

Wilbur was silent for a few moments, as he pondered the teen’s words. “You are such a strange one, Tommyinnit. I have never met a mortal like you.”

“And what does that mean for me?” Tommy couldn’t help but ask.

Wilbur let out a small chuckle. “How would you feel about helping me in my challenges? A sort of . . . assistant, if you will.”

The bloodlust that Wilbur hadn’t seen since the first night the two met had returned to Tommy’s eyes.

“I would love that.”

♔♔♔

From that point onwards, Wilbur and Tommy had become quite close companions, creating challenges together and messing with humans. During their challenges, Wilbur was happy to give Tommy access to creative mode, lending the teen the ability to create whatever materials he needed in order to fuck with the players, or so he could teleport and fly around with the god. Wilbur quickly found that the challenges were much more fun when the teen was around, as the human boy seemed to be a beacon of chaos.

Impressed by Tommy, the god had decided it was time to introduce the boy to his godly friends.

♔♔♔

“So this is the child you’ve talked so much about?” Techno asked Wilbur, raising an eyebrow.

“Oi, bitch!” Tommy shouted. “I’m not a child!”

Wilbur laughed. “We are millenniums old, Tommy, while you are fifteen. You are practically a toddler to us.”

Tommy huffed, but did not bother arguing.

“I’m Philza,” the oldest god of the group introduced, holding a hand out.

Tommy shook his hand, able to feel the power radiating from the death god. “I’m Tommy! I help Wil with his hundred player challenges!”

“So I’ve heard,” Phil responded, pulling his hand back. “He’s told us plenty about you, specifically about your chaotic tendencies.”

“Anarchy is fun!” Tommy replied almost defensively.

“Ooh, I like this one,” Techno piped up, making Tommy turn to him. “Anarchy is kinda my wheelhouse. Well, along with blood.”

Tommy gave the god a blinding smile. “We’re gonna get along great then.”
“Should we get this thing started?” Wilbur asked, motioning to the jungle around them. The three gave their agreement. He had gathered the group for a repeat of his challenge in which he gave one hundred players elytra and turned them into some amalgamation birds. This time, however, he had his godly friends and mortal helper with him, hoping that it would be even more enjoyable than the last time.

~

“Come check this out!” Philza called to Tommy, who was the nearest of the people running the challenge. The boy flew over to join the death god in a tree. Philza pointed down at a large wooden cube that appeared to have been built on one of the branches of the tree. Tommy gave the god a mischievous smile before floating down to the top of the box and mining away one of the wooden blocks on the roof of it. He jumped into it, quickly followed by the god.

Inside, the two found a player crouching in the corner, elytra wrapped around herself. She stared up at the two with trepidation. Quickly, she placed a sign on the wall and began to write on it. When she stepped away, she revealed the words “I’m just trying to live in my box. Please let me be in peace.”

“I have an idea,” Tommy announced, turning away from the player and looking to Philza. “Could you replace the wood with bedrock?”

Philza squinted at the teen in confusion, but complied with the request nonetheless. In just the blink of an eye, the junglewood cube had been replaced with a bedrock cube. The god looked at the mortal, only to find him pulling something out of the creative inventory. The teen suddenly began to spawn bats in the bedrock box, the little creatures flitting around everywhere and screeching.

While the player was too distracted by the bats to attempt to get out, Phil and Tommy exited through the hole they had made in the ceiling when they entered. As soon as they were out, the god sealed the hole with bedrock, though not before a few bats flew out, and the poor human was left trapped in the prison of bats. Philza couldn’t help but find himself laughing with the little mortal that Wilbur had grown attached to. He could understand why the slightly younger god enjoyed the human’s presence so much, as the god of death found himself drawn in by the loud and chaotic personality of the teenager.

~

“Here!” Tommy exclaimed, pulling a diamond sword out of the creative inventory and handing it to a player in the birdhouse they were currently in. The player looked terrified, staring at the mortal helper and the blood god next to him. “Go kill some bitches!”

When the player stood still, tightly holding the weapon tightly in their grip, Tommy pushed them off the wooden platform, forcing them to enable their elytra in order to not die from the fall. The god and the human watched as the player landed on the ground and attempted to kill another human, who killed the weapon wielder first and then stole the sword. Tommy laughed and Techno chuckled along.

Techno had decided to stick around the mortal for a little bit, skeptical of the kid’s motives. He wondered if the teen had somehow tricked Wilbur into thinking he was helping him with his challenges while in actuality he was secretly aiding his fellow mortals. The blood god quickly found, however, that the human was truthfully just as twisted as the gods appeared to be. He was entertained by watching his fellow man fight and bleed, and seemingly had a penchant for chaos just as much as Techno himself did.

When Wilbur had first complained about a young mortal he had somehow grown attached to, Techno scoffed. He didn’t understand how anyone could grow attached to a human, seeing as they were fragile little things that didn’t stick around for long. But, talking to Tommy, Techno could begin to understand why Wilbur had come to enjoy the company of the blond. The young mortal was chaotic in a fun way, where he was just as excited to cause mayhem as the gods themselves. He was bright, in a sense, and loud in the way where he seemed to take up space wherever he went.

Maybe Techno wasn’t attached like Wilbur was, but he could understand where that attachment had come from. Though he would never admit it, he was enjoying the company of the human.

“Theseus!” Wilbur's voice called out with a hint of anger in his tone. Techno watched as Tommy turned to the direction the shout had come from.

“Uh oh,” Tommy muttered, but he didn’t sound scared. If anything, his concern sounded mischievous and there was a bit of pride in his words.

“‘Theseus?’” Techno repeated in a questioning tone.

“My full first name,” Tommy answered. “Wilbur only ever uses it when I’ve done something wrong.”

Wilbur quickly found the two where they were still perched on the birdhouse. “Theseus, why are there bats everywhere?!”

Tommy let out one of his loud laughs. “Well, bats are natural creatures that-”

“They’re not normal for jungle biomes, and now there are bats all over the place!” Wilbur quickly interrupted. “I know you had something to do with it!”

“To be fair,” Techno piped up, “you’re the one who gave him creative mode, Wil. The kid had access to bats, and he decided to use bats. Your fault for giving him the ability to spawn them.”

Tommy gave a cheeky grin at Techno’s defense, looking innocently at Wilbur, who only sighed in acceptance. Externally, he kept that tired look on his face, but internally he was smiling at how well Techno appeared to like Tommy. He was already glad that the blood god hadn’t immediately started ranting about useless humans when he met the boy, but the fact that he actually seemed to like the kid’s company was more than Wilbur ever could’ve asked for.

In Wilbur’s eyes, everything was going perfectly.

♔♔♔

From there came more challenges with Tommy by Wilbur’s side, and more time spent together. Phil and Techno came around to spend time with the two, both having grown attached to the mortal, though they would never say that. Still, it showed through their actions.

Techno had taken to helping train Tommy in the arts of battle. He would go between explaining war strategies and how to fight. Tommy already knew how to fight relatively well before he met Wilbur, seeing as he had spent quite a lot of his childhood defending himself both from other humans and from mobs. Still, he only grew under the blood god’s guidance, flourishing both at  battle tactics and sword fighting. Sure, he was nowhere near as skilled as Techno, but the man was a war god and Tommy could still hold his own relatively well against him. Techno, for all he denied his attachment to the teen, seemed to take great pride in the blonds fighting skills.

Technoblade had also taken to referring to the boy as “Theseus,” which was the closest one would ever come to a term of endearment from the blood god. Nobody ever mentioned the name, but Phil and Wilbur shared a glance every time he referred to Tommy by his full name, knowing how fond the god had grown of the human.

Phil had taken over Tommy’s education, happy to teach the teen everything he had never been able to learn at a school. He had taken a particular interest in history, a subject that Phil knew quite a lot about seeing as he had been around since practically the beginning of time. There was something about the way the human’s eyes lit up when he got a question right and the fascination written across his face when he learned that made Philza aware that he had come to care for the mortal.

After many more challenges, Wilbur had decided it was time for the entirety of their little group (nicknamed as Sleepy Bois Incorporated) to do another one together. This time, he wanted to go even bigger, by having a hundred players attempt to terraform a fake moon that he had created on a server.

♔♔♔

“Well, I’m not going to rap if you don’t ‘bah,’” Tommy explained to Techno. Wilbur watched on in fond exasperation as the two gods and one mortal stood around a jukebox that Tommy had pulled out of the creative inventory, along with the PigStep disc.

Next to Wilbur was his other helper, Josh, who was an immortal that had been around for quite a while. He had helped Wilbur with every challenge he had ever done, but went off on his own when not assisting the god. Josh was on Wilbur’s short list of non-gods that had his favor, and the immortal seemed perfectly happy in his role of managing the servers and making sure things ran smoothly.

With an exasperated sigh, he floated down to join the rest of SBI around the jukebox, watching the group mess around. Despite his (fake) annoyance, Wilbur found himself nodding along as he listened to Tommy’s silly freestyled lyrics.

“-Technoblade has a golden crown. I am massive, I am massive,” he said in time with the song. “Wilbur Soot is a musician. He sings about women, which I find cool. Technoblade wears a gown. In the gown, he doesn’t own knives.”

“Ohhhhh!” Wilbur shouted as Tommy finished his verse.

“Wilbur, your verse! Are you ready?”

Wilbur pretended to get really into it, nodding along and acting as if he were about to start. The moment it sounded as though he were about to sing, however, he placed a hand out and took the disc out.

“I don’t do lyrics.”

The whole group stared at him in disappointment.

~

“Wilbur, I know what we need,” Tommy announced as they built a bedrock cage for one of the players.

Wilbur sighed. “Is it bats? Is it bats, Tommy?”

The teen crossed his arms and gave Wilbur a small glare. “Please don’t predict me. I don’t like it when people predict what I’m going to do.”

“Well, you’re going to have to think of something better then,” Wilbur told him, continuing to build the chamber as Technoblade and Philza teleported to join them.

“Well, no,” Tommy responded, causing Phil to laugh.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re still doing bats?”

“Yeah, well, Wilbur, I’ve said this from day one: man like bats.”

~

All of SBI was hovering around a large dirt block that Wilbur had placed for the players to grab dirt from. Instead of that, however, the players had decided to make a little pasture on top of it. They had planted flowers and created benches, instead of using the dirt to terraform, much to Wilbur’s annoyance.

“Do it,” Wilbur instructed Tommy, referring to placing TNT down in order to destroy the dirt block. “Just replace ten percent of it.”

“I don’t hold that knowledge,” Tommy replied, obviously trying to work out the controls on how to replace ten percent of the dirt with explosives.

“One in every ten block,” Wilbur explained further, pulling out a flint and steel.

“One in every ten block?!”

Wilbur began to set some of the grass on fire. “Faster! Faster! I’m igniting!”

“Oh my god, the chads,” Techno muttered, staring out at the large block monument that once said ‘chaos’ that Wilbur had changed to read ‘chads.’

“Good enough! Good enough!” Wilbur shouted as he saw that Tommy had turned one corner of the dirt square into TNT. He began to rapidly ignite several of the explosives before backing away to watch from a distance.

“Oh Jesus. Oh no. Oh no, dude,” Philza muttered as he watched what was happening.

The three gods and one mortal watched as the dirt block blew up and then continued to explode for over thirty seconds, several players dying along with it.

“I thought it would’ve-” Wilbur started, but was cut off by another explosion. He paused for a few more seconds to make sure it fully stopped before speaking again. “I thought it would’ve stopped exploding by now.”

~

Everything was chaos. There were zombies flying around on the backs of ghasts, and ravagers were running around and killing players. Meanwhile, Philza was running around with an enchanted sword and slaying every player that came remotely near him. Techno was watching with a smile on his face as the mobs he spawned caused mayhem. Tommy had been kicked from the server after allowing players into the control room (in his defense, he didn’t know what that room was for!), so he was in the waiting room, where SBI could still hear him as he complained about being left out.

Eventually, after ages of chaos, Wilbur finally ended the server, muttering something about freeing them from that hell. The three showed up in the waiting room, where Tommy was sitting on the ground and leaning back against the wall. He looked rather bored, but was quick to perk up as the gods showed up.

“Hey, guys,” Tommy greeted, looking almost smug, “did you notice how as soon as Tommyinnit left, the world went to shit? Yeah, that should teach you something.”

It was spoken as a joke, and Wilbur knew it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but some part of him knew it was the truth. He had lived just fine without Tommy before he knew the teen, but he didn’t think he could be the same without the human. He had grown attached, forming a connection with a mortal for the first time in his entire existence. The world without Tommyinnit did sound like shit, and Wilbur didn’t even want to consider how short Tommy’s lifespan was, seeing as the teen would probably only live for another seventy years, a mere blink for a god.

Wilbur knew in that moment that he had to make Tommy immortal.

♔♔♔

The thought of making Tommy immortal bounced around in Wilbur’s head after that day, constantly reminding him that the human was fragile and could easily die. He had discussed it with Techno and Philza, who both seemed in favor of it, and all that had been left was to speak to Tommy about it. He had asked him on a day that would remain forever ingrained in both their minds.

♔♔♔

“How do you feel about immortality?” Wilbur asked out of nowhere one day. He and Tommy had just been having dinner (though gods didn’t need to eat) and he had barely even realized he voiced the question aloud.

“I mean . . .” Tommy started, setting down his utensils in a way emblematic of when Wilbur had first told him that he was a god. “I don’t suppose I have much of an opinion on it. Immortality is immortality, and that’s really the end of it, I guess.”

“Well, I more mean how would you feel about being immortal?”

Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why are you asking?”

Wilbur looked away for a moment in contemplating before turning his gaze back to the teen. “I want to make you immortal. I have never met a human like you, a human able to make gods have attachments and feelings. You’ve somehow made three old gods care for you, a mere mortal, and that makes you more important than any human I’ve ever seen or heard of. You’re . . . special, Theseus. I cannot let you go.”

“So you want to make me immortal?” Tommy elaborated.

“If you would allow me, yes.”

The teen nodded slowly for a few moments, clearly pondering the offer. “I . . . sure.”

Wilbur’s face morphed into confusion. “Yes?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

The god leaned back in his chair, shaking his head a bit in disbelief. “I figured it would take more convincing on my part, but I should’ve known. You’ve always been a strange one.”

Tommy laughed, a large grin spreading across his face. “Hey, you’re the one who’s going to be stuck with me for all eternity!”

Wilbur laughed too. “I have a feeling I won’t mind all too much.”

~

To make someone immortal was a strange process, and not one that Wilbur had ever done before. Every person he had ever had some level of attachment to was either a god or already immortal, meaning he’d never needed to make someone undying before. Still, there was an instinct in him, as there was in every old god, that knew how the process worked. All he had to do was follow that instinct and everything would be fine.

Tommy had been placed into a magic induced sleep (with his agreement, of course) and Wilbur was standing over the bed he was asleep on. Taking a deep breath and following the guidance inside of him, the god reached a hand out and let it hover over the teen’s forehead. From his fingertips came a brilliant light, and his instinct told him to lower the hand. He placed his hand on Tommy’s forehead and allowed the golden light to move on its own.

The light seemed to encompass the boy, glowing all around him. Wilbur drew his hand back as the teen’s body began to float upwards from the bed and hover in the air. All the light began to move and consolidate at his chest, sinking in and settling at his heart before the brilliant display was gone. His body slowly floated back down until he was laying on the bed again, as if he were as light as a feather. 

Wilbur didn’t truly know what had just happened, having only been able to watch the display in awe, but his instinct told him the boy was immortal now, so he trusted that everything had been done correctly. With a pleased smile, he pulled up a chair and decided to sit by the bed until Tommy woke up.

♔♔♔

Wilbur looked back on his memories fondly, something he very rarely did before, but he had been changed in that sense. His emotions were stronger, more compassion for those he cared about flowed through him, and his bonds with his fellow gods had only grown stronger thanks to the human who entered his life. 

Wilbur was willing to follow Tommy, the fragile little immortal he thought of as a little brother, to the ends of the earth. Perhaps that’s why when Tommy heard about a man named Dream starting an SMP in a currently unexplored and uninhabited area, Wilbur agreed to go with him. The two had only spent a few centuries together since Tommy was turned immortal and it was such a short period of time to the god, so if the blond wanted to go pretend to be human and live a fake normal life, then Wilbur was willing to play pretend with him. They sent a letter ahead to Dream, letting him know that they were interested in joining, and he whitelisted them for the area he had claimed.

So the two donned modern clothes and made up a fake backstory before they left, rehearsing their story of being brothers looking to start a new life after their father and brother (Philza and Techno respectively) went off adventuring on their own. The last part of the story wasn’t technically a lie, seeing as the two gods had decided not to come with as they wanted to go off and do their own things, though they promised to visit at some point in the future.

It was the beginning of a new era for the god and the immortal, and Wilbur couldn’t help but be excited, though he would never admit to feeling such a mortal emotion.

♔♔♔

1.

“Welcome to the Dream SMP!” Dream greeted the two as they arrived through the portal.

Tommy bounded out from the portal, bouncing with excitement as he looked around the new place. Wilbur stepped out more cautiously, quickly catching up to the blond and standing protectively by his side.

“You must be Wilbur and Tommy,” someone else said, stepping up next to Dream and offering a hand. “Dream mentioned you’d be coming. I’m Sapnap! It’s nice to meet you two.”

Tommy shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too!”

Wilbur regarded the man silently for a few moments, and Sapnap couldn’t help but shrink under the analytical gaze. “A pleasure,” Wilbur finally said, tearing his gaze away from the blaze hybrid in order to observe the area around them.

“Come check out the community house!” Dream exclaimed, beckoning the two over. He and Sapnap began to lead the way to the main structure of the server so far. “It’s where we’re all staying right now while we work on building.”

Tommy ran forward to keep up with the two, talking animatedly with them about the new server and their plans for new buildings. Wilbur trailed behind them, watching the interactions with interest. He had never seen Tommy interact with mortals beyond when they held challenges, and even then it was mostly just torturing them with bats and whatever else his mind could come up with. It was a weird experience to see the blond talk with non-gods in such a normal way. He tried not to ponder it too much.

“So are there any plans for today or are we just building?” Wilbur eventually asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

“Well, we’re pretty sure there’s an abandoned village not too far from here,” Dream told the group. “We haven’t had a chance to explore it yet, so we were thinking that anyone who was interested could go and check it out today!”

“That sounds like fun!” Tommy exclaimed, so Wilbur nodded along.

“I’ll grab George and we can get going,” Sapnap offered, heading over to the ladders leading up to the second floor of the house.

“Feel free to grab tools from the chests, since you guys haven’t had a chance to collect any resources yet.” Dream motioned to a couple chests in the corner of the large room.

Wilbur almost felt patronized at the suggestion, as he was aware he could just grab anything he wanted out of the creative inventory, but he was quickly broken out of his thoughts by Tommy grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him over to the chests. The blond gave him a look that said ‘I know what you’re thinking and you can’t do that,’ to which Wilbur rolled his eyes but complied with the boy’s wishes, grabbing some simple iron tools and putting them into his inventory.

Sapnap returned with another man wearing clout goggles (which looked extremely dumb in Wilbur’s opinion) and there was another set of quick introductions before the group headed out.

~

The walk to the village wasn’t far in the slightest and was filled with amiable conversation amongst the group. Tommy had even managed to drag Wilbur into it, forcing the god to socialize with their new companions. He knew the blond was trying his best to make him seem as human as possible, which was hard considering he had no clue how to act the part, but he appreciated the effort.

As they entered the abandoned village, Wilbur got a strange sense of deja vu, as though he had been here before. Perhaps his thousands of years of memories were mixing him up, conflating this little village with hundreds he had seen before, but he still felt as though this place was familiar. He shook the feeling off, following Tommy to where the teen had entered a house to explore.

The other three had set off to explore on their own, far enough to be out of earshot but close enough to yell out if needed, so the god and the immortal were alone in an abandoned wooden house. Tommy was rummaging through some chests, which had collected dust and cobwebs over the years it had sat untouched, and Wilbur looked around cautiously. For a moment, he wondered if he should ask the blond if the place felt familiar, but then he looked at how much fun the boy was having as he exited the house to go show their companions the small treasures he had found.

As Tommy turned around an offered Wilbur an emerald𑁋 a friendship emerald, as Techno called the gems when they gifted them to each other𑁋 the god knew he didn’t want to ruin the boy’s fun, so he held off on his questions.

“Guys, come check this out!” Sapnap called from one of the buildings. Tommy shared a look with George and Dream, all looking a bit curious, and they headed in the direction the shout had come from, Wilbur taking his place by Tommy’s side as they stepped over the threshold.

The wooden structure wasn’t a house, as they had expected, but appeared to be a meeting place for the village. There were chairs, though most were overturned and strewn about, and there was a platform at the front, as though for someone to speak at. It was nothing special, just an abandoned town hall sat collecting dust. There was a second floor, however, which is where the shout had come from. The group ascended the ladder on the far right side and found themselves in a much messier room, with papers strewn about.

Sapnap was staring up at a painting on the wall, though the group couldn’t see it as his figure blocked it. As they approached his side, he stepped away to let them see. Wilbur’s eyes flickered to the blaze hybrid and saw he was also clutching a book in his hold.

The god stared up at the painting and his breath hitched as he realized just what it was of. The art depicted a brown haired figure draped in a white and gold tunic and golden jewelry, floating above the ground with his hands pressed together as if praying. Floating next to him was a blond in a red and white tunic, an ivy crown, and silver jewelry. Both of the figures looked serious, facing the viewers of the painting with almost sinister eyes. Sapnap opened the book and began to read aloud, catching the attention of the others viewing the art.

“‘The god of chaos, the ocean, and music is not a merciful one. He is not kind to mortals, nor are his fellow gods. He is known for stealing mortals to use for his games, which are more torture than anything else. Very few have ever made it out alive, and those who do have always turned in favor of the god, praising him for his mercy and making sacrifices to him. The god’s name has been lost to time, but survivors claim that they have heard it.’”

Wilbur and Tommy shared a panicked look, which the others luckily didn’t notice. The group seemed interested in the legends of this god, and were listening to Sapnap intently while still studying the painting. Sapnap continued to skim through the pages, seemingly attempting to find out more about this mysterious god.

“Are both of the people in this painting gods?” George asked, studying the blond in the painting after correctly assuming the brunet to be the chaos god the book spoke of.

“I don’t really see anything about the- wait! I found something!” Sapnap exclaimed. “‘Despite the chaos god’s seeming disdain for mortals, there is one he appears to tolerate. At some point in the last couple centuries, survivors have talked about someone who assisted the chaos god in his challenges. It appears to be a well known fact amongst these survivors that the one only known to us as The Helper used to be a human, but was turned immortal by the gods. The only idea of what these two look like comes from depictions by survivors.’”

For a moment, Wilbur couldn’t help but wonder if these mortals would connect the dots and figure out that the two figures in the painting were actually their new members to the server. Then he took another long look at the artistic representation of him and Tommy, and he felt a bit more confident that they would not recognize them. The painting was well done, but the faces were a bit off, seeing as it was by a survivor who likely didn’t get a good enough look at their faces to completely memorize their features. Beyond that, the painting was yellowed and faded with age, making them even more unrecognizable than before. It was enough to reassure him that the secret of their heritage was safe, so long as they were careful.

“What a strange little legend,” Dream laughed, looking at the room before heading back to the hole in the floor and climbing down the ladder. George laughed a bit too and followed the man. Tommy was quick to race after them, obviously happy to escape the room that nearly revealed his secrets.

Sapnap closed the book and put it into his inventory, looking over to Wilbur, who was still studying the painting.

“You find this weird, right?” Sapnap couldn’t help but question, turning the brunet’s attention to him. “Like, it’s just so strange that all these supposed survivors have stories that line up. It doesn’t feel just like some silly legend.”

Wilbur nodded, figuring this was a moment he could play into his human role. “I won’t lie to you, this feels wrong. It almost feels too intricate to be fake.”

The blaze hybrid looked relieved at the agreement. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like it’s odd.”

“I’ll try to look more into it,” Wilbur offered. “If they’re talking about survivors and stolen people, then surely there must be other villages, abandoned or not, that have some evidence about these stories.”

Without waiting for a response, Wilbur turned around and headed back down to the ground floor. He exited the building and went to catch up with the rest of his companions. Sapnap, however, didn’t leave, instead electing to turn back to the painting.

He stared up at the alleged god in the photo and a shiver went through his when he met the brown eyes of the depiction. The whole thing𑁋 the painting, the journal, everything 𑁋 it all unsettled him, uneasiness running through his bones as the more he thought about it. With a deep breath, he pulled out his knife and took a step forwards, slicing the painting out of its golden frame. Once it was free, he rolled it up and placed it into his inventory.

For safekeeping, he told himself, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was reason more to his choice.

♔♔♔

2.

“What the fuck, man?!”

Tubbo watched silently from several feet away as Tommy blew up at Techno, yelling at the stoic man as though he would react. They were within the ravine of Pogtopia, only hours after the festival, and Tubbo could still feel the phantom pain from the fireworks that had hit him before he respawned. His face was marred with scars that he didn’t have the courage to check out in a mirror, lest he fully break down over the new feature.

“I was being peer pressured,” Techno defended, voice never changing from its normal monotone.

“You can’t get mad at him, Tommy,” Wilbur told the boy easily, throwing an arm over Techno’s shoulder. “I mean, Tubbo already forgave him, right?”

The attention was suddenly turned to Tubbo and the boy felt himself shrink under the weight of everyone’s gazes. He didn’t forgive Techno, he didn’t want to say it was okay, because it wasn’t. He knew he had already been through a lot, having fought in a revolution and been a spy for Pogtopia, and this was only another trauma to add onto the list. He wanted to cry and scream about how it wasn’t fair, but he was terrified.

This Wilbur in front of him was not the Wilbur he once knew. This wasn’t the Wilbur that had led them in the revolution nor was this the Wilbur who organized the presidential election. This Wilbur was terrifying, with a threatening aura surrounding him and bloodlust gleaming in his eyes. This was not a person Tubbo wanted to make upset, so he simply nodded, pretending as though he had forgiven the man who had just taken a canon life from him.

“This is bullshit!” Tommy shouted, and Tubbo took another few steps back. “You just killed a teenager, Techno! You didn’t even say sorry! You haven’t shown any remorse!”

“You two need to work this out,” Wilbur butted in once again. “And I think we all know what the one universal language is.”

Tubbo flinched at the dangerous smile that took over Techno’s face.

“You should fight it out in the pit,” Wilbur continued, motioning over to the small pit that had been mined out while working on another project in the small country. Tubbo had been planning on filling it sometime soon, but he had a feeling that time wouldn’t be today.

He watched as Techno jumped down into the pit, and watched as Wilbur pushed Tommy down into it. He listened to Wilbur count down from three to start the fight and he stared when Techno threw the first punch, directed right at Tommy’s gut. He tore his gaze away when Wilbur cheered them on, turning around so he couldn’t even see it through his closed eyes. The sounds of skin hitting skin and grunts of pain made the teen wince, shoulders hunching in every time Tommy threw out another insult only to be cut off by an attack. He knew the very noises of this fight would haunt his nightmares, and he realized he’d really rather not see the actual thing.

“And Techno wins!” Wilbur cheered, and Tubbo finally turned around. He froze, however, as he looked at the aftermath of the fight.

Techno was climbing out of the pit, seemingly unscathed, and Wilbur patted him on the back as a form of congratulations. In the pit, however, Tommy was laying on his side, skin red and bruises rapidly forming. He appeared to have had the breath knocked out of him, as he was struggling to get any air into his lungs. There were a few spots on his skin where blood was dripping from minor wounds, nothing deeper than scratches but still unsettling.

Tubbo wanted to help, but found himself unable to move. He could only watch in silence as Tommy staggered to his feet and dragged himself out from the pit and back onto the main floor, breathing heavily and he barely kept himself on his feet.

“You fucking suck,” he muttered, catching the attention of Wilbr and Techno.

“What?” Wilbur asked quietly, and Tubbo was confused by the worried lilt in the man’s voice.

“I said that you fucking suck!” Tommy repeated louder. “I love you both so much, but you fucking suck right now!”

Techno’s eyes were wide and Tubbo saw more emotion on his face than he had ever seen before. “What are you on about, Theseus? I thought-”

Tommy cut him off. “Yeah, you think things, but you always forget who I am! Just because you two hate humans, doesn’t mean I’m not a human! I have human feelings and attachments, and you always seem to ignore that! I care about Tubbo, and you know that, and yet you- you fucking- you . . .”

The ravine was silent, except for Tommy’s labored breaths.

“You just fucking suck right now,” the blond finished, sounding defeated. “Come talk to me when you’re done being a bitch.”

Tubbo watched as Tommy pushed past his two older brothers and stumbled down a corridor, most likely heading back to his room to get some rest. He reached out a hand in the direction his best friend left in, but let it drop as soon as he disappeared. He turned his attention back to Wilbur and Techno, but the two seemed to forget that he was here.

“Stupid human emotions,” Techno muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not supposed to feel this stuff. Wilbur, why am I feeling this?!”

Wilbur sighed, glancing back to the corridor the blond had disappeared down. “Tommy is just like that, and you already know it. You’d think it impossible, but . . .”

Tubbo was more than just confused. Here were two people he thought of as just . . . normal (besides their strange, blood-thirsty tendencies) talking about “human emotions” and implying that it was strange for them to feel them. It made no real sense in any way, shape, or form. And what was with Tommy’s whole speech about Wilbur and Techno hating humans? Why would they hate humans when they themselves are human, or hybrid in Techno’s case? If Tubbo were any more confident, he would speak up, he would point out all of these strange inconsistencies and interrogate the group until they finally explain what they meant. But Tubbo had just been executed, and was currently standing in a ravine with two madmen, so he stayed quiet.

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Techno asked quietly, and Tubbo was taken aback by the lack of certainty in his voice, the piglin hybrid sounding almost nervous.

Wilbur sighed. “You know he will. He’ll forgive both of us eventually, but we’ve . . . we have to do better. We need to remember that he’s not fully like us, and we can’t expect him to react like us in these situations.”

“It makes sense that he lashed out.”

Wilbur nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I much prefer it when he calls me a bitch in a joking context rather than when I’ve done something wrong.”

That made Techno crack a small smile. “How have you put up with him for so long when he makes you feel so many emotions?”

“I don’t know, Tech,” Wilbur replied with a chuckle, a fond smile adorning his face. “But I’d put up with it for eternity.”

Tubbo watched the two leave and head down the corridor Tommy had gone down only minutes earlier, likely to attempt to reconcile with the blond. He had no idea what to make of the strange interaction he had just watched, so instead he chose to walk away. It was much easier to ignore it, in his opinion, than to confront whatever the hell just happened.

♔♔♔

3.

“Kill me, Phil! Do it!”

“You’re my son!”

Tommy stared up at the interaction, standing in the rubble of his once home (though he never really thought of it as a permanent home, seeing as he was immortal). Around him, the battle raged on. Withers were destroying what was left of the country and everybody was distracted by attempting to fight the beasts.

‘It’s just an act. It’s just an act. It’s just an act,’ Tommy’s thought shouted as he watched Phil stick a sword through Wilbur’s chest. ‘Wilbur is a god. You’re an immortal. Neither of you are leaving each other’s sides.’

Despite the mental reminders that this was all an act that they had planned, Tommy couldn’t help the pressure that built up behind his eyes. He barely noticed the salty tears dripping down his face and dampening his shirt. The nearby fires from battle singed his clothes and burned his legs, but he didn’t notice, too caught up in watching Phil cradle Wilbur in his arms, blood covering both of them. He was frozen, so stuck in his own head that he didn’t realize there was a wither not far away, heading directly towards him.

Someone did notice however. Techno had seen the immortal standing still in shock in the middle of the battle field, and he knew he needed to snap the boy out of it before he got seriously injured. Chat yelled at him to do something.

Help him

The wither

Save Tommy

Technobro

Save him

Help the human

Technosoft 

The blood god weaved his way through the wreckage, dodging those who wanted to slash him with their swords and avoiding the withers he had released. Finally, he reached the place where Tommy was. Techno jumped in front of the wither, directing it towards another area with a silent motion, a quiet demand to leave the blond alone. He turned around to Tommy, placing a hand on the immortal’s shoulder and forcing him to turn around.

“He’s okay,” Techno reminded the boy, lifting his other hand to wipe away the teen’s tears. “Wilbur would never leave you like that.”

“He’s okay,” Tommy breathed out in a quiet reassurance to himself. “Wilbur is okay.”

“Exactly,” Techno replied. “Now take some deep breaths and then you can get back into battle. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

Tommy nodded and began to breathe.

Techno, now with the reassurance that the teen would be okay, turned to the battle. He drew his sword and jumped back into fray, fighting anybody who dared to cross him. A quick glance behind him showed Tommy drawing his own weapon and returning to fighting the withers with his friends. Techno couldn’t help but give a fond smile, though only for a quick second, for the young immortal who always got back up no matter what.

~

When Quackity caught a glimpse of pink, he drew away from the battle and looked across the ruins of his country. He watched as Technoblade weaved through the masses and frantically got to the other side of the battle field. Now that the enemy was seemingly isolated, Quackity began to walk forward, hoping to catch the piglin hybrid by surprise.

He stopped, however, as he saw that someone else was there. He looked on with a confused expression as Techno commanded a wither away before turning to the blond figure. The pink haired man placed a hand on the person’s shoulder and gently turned them to face him, revealing to Quackity that it was Tommy.

Quackity’s breath hitched and he began to move forwards again, worried for what the enemy would do to his young friend. He froze once more, though, when he saw Techno move his other arm, not to draw his sword but to lay a hand on Tommy’s cheek. The two appeared to speak quietly before Techno turned around and jumped back into the battle, Tommy drawing his sword only moments later.

Out of curiosity, and a bit of confusion, Quackity turned his gaze to where Tommy had been looking, only to see Philza cradling the body of one Wilbur Soot. The interaction between Tommy and Technoblade began to make more sense to him.

‘Weren’t the three of them brothers?’ Quackity’s thoughts asked. ‘This must’ve hit both of them so hard. No wonder Techno was seemingly reassuring Tommy.’

With an answer to the strange interaction between the two brothers, Quackity focused his attention back on defeating the withers and winning his country back. 

4.

If there was one thing that the three old gods were good at, it was sticking to their plans. They could play their parts in the SMP well, making Dream think they were playing directly into his hands while unaware that he was actually just an annoying little mortal to them. To them, the SMP was just a game, a role play where they acted their roles perfectly while secretly just enjoying the entertainment.

Their roles recently had been rather quiet. Techno had been staying in his cabin in the tundra, though he was also building up a stockpile for his future endeavors in battle. He had visited Logstedshire once at the beginning of Tommy’s exile, but stayed away since then to keep his false hatred of the boy more convincing to Dream. Phil was simply spending his time building and adventuring while staying in his little house in L’manburg. He certainly had no qualms with the easy role. Wilbur’s part was a bit harder, having to pretend to be a naive ghost that bent easily to everyone’s wills. When people asked him for help, he had to provide it, and when Dream sent him off into the snow, he had to obey. It was rather frustrating for him.

Tommy, on the other hand, didn’t feel like he was just an actor recently. His exile was lonely, and he was back to surviving on his own, much like he had been doing before Wilbur had come across him. He was alone, which he hadn’t been since he started hanging out with gods.

The gods were good at sticking to their plans, but they forgot to account for one thing: their favorite immortal was still a human, and he was vulnerable to human emotions.

Wilbur, Techno, and Phil could easily spend hundreds of years alone, and each of them had done so before. They did not fear loneliness, or wonder if those they cared about didn’t care about them back. If a mortal were to try and manipulate them, they would simply crush the mortal beneath their feet.

Tommy was not blessed with those abilities. He was a sensitive person, sociable and extroverted and very much not a fan of isolation. He was vulnerable to abuse and manipulation, and subjected to it by the hands of the admin. Without the protection of the old gods, and without the reminders that this was all an act and he wasn’t truly alone, he began to doubt. He was spiraling down a dangerous rabbit hole, one that was not easy to claw his way out of.

~

“I want to visit Tommy,” Wilbur declared one afternoon as he entered Techno’s cabin.

“Hello to you too,” Techno greeted sarcastically as he stood up from where he was tending to the fire.

“What brought this about?” Phil asked from where he was reclining on the couch. He had been visiting Techno for the weekend and neither had been expecting the brunet to drop by.

Wilbur let out a groan and dropped down onto a plush chair in the living room. “We haven’t gotten to see him in months because Dream is always there at his exile and I . . . I miss him.”

Techno sighed, placing the fire iron on its stand. “Wil, you know we’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re supposed to be playing our parts,” Wilbur muttered. “But I feel bad that he’s been alone for months and I know you guys miss him too.”

There were a few moments of silence, both of the gods unable to dispute the point.

“Fine,” Techno huffed. “We can go visit him today.”

“Yes!” Wilbur cheered, and neither Techno nor Phil were able to hold back smiles.

~

There was something . . . wrong, Techno decided as he drew ever closer to Logstedshire. A foreboding feeling surrounded the area in which Tommy was exiled and he did not like it in the slightest. It reminded him of the aura that was afoot right before a battle, a sense of anticipation that smelled of future bloodshed and promised death. He looked up and saw smoke rising up above the trees, coming from the direction they were headed in. The distant smell on gunpowder made him increase his pace, his fellow gods racing to catch up with him.

Techno weaved around trees and jumped over bushes, barely noticing as sticks hit his body and scrapes appeared. Behind him, he could hear Wilbur and Phil calling out for him to slow for a moment, but he was too focused on making it to Tommy that he simply tuned out their shouts.

Soon, Techno emerged from the treeline, and immediately froze at the sight before him.

Logstedshire was gone. Every structure was replaced by a crater, all appearing to be recent as evidenced by the smoke rising upwards from each one. The nether portal was broken, only a few pieces of obsidian left, and the scraps of the fabric from Tommy’s tent were fluttering around. Techno saw in his peripheral as Phil and Wilbur came to a stop beside him, both taking in the state of Logstedshire.

“What happened here?” Phil breathed out, eyes wide.

“Where is he?” Wilbur asked as if any of the three of them knew the answer.

Wilbur made the first move, cautiously stepping further into Logstedshire and beginning to look around. After a moment, Techno and Phil did the same, the former heading to investigate the beach while Phil walked towards the crater of the original wooden structure “Ghostbur” had built with Tommy.

Wilbur glanced at smaller craters littering the ground of the area as he made his way towards where the tent used to stand. He tried to imagine what all the three or four blocks wide holes were for, but couldn’t find an explanation that made any sense. Eventually, he found himself peeking over the ledge and into the hole where he knew Tommy’s tent used to be. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur shouted, catching sight of the figure curled up at the bottom of the crater. His yell caught the attention of Techno and Phil, who immediately abandoned their own investigations.

Wilbur climbed down into the large crater, kneeling down beside the blond and gently rolling him over onto his back. Only moments later, the other two gods reached the hole and looked down into it.

Tommy’s eyes fluttered open, squinting against the light. He held a hand up to block the sun and averted his eyes, catching sight of the other person there with him.

“Wilbur?” he whimpered.

The brunet’s breath hitched and he placed a hand on the immortal’s cheek. “Tommy . . .”

“What’re you doing here?” Despite the blunt question, Tommy leaned into the god’s gentle touch, letting out a shuddering breath as Wilbur began moving his thumb back and forth against his bruised skin in a calming motion.

“I felt bad because I hadn’t visited you in months. I was trying to keep up the act of being naive so Dream wouldn’t suspect anything, but I wanted to come and see you.” Wilbur’s voice was quiet, as if he were afraid to break the gentle atmosphere. He tried to give the boy a soft smile.

“You . . . you wanted to come and see me?” Tommy asked raspily, as if he didn’t believe it.

Wilbur’s face fell into something more akin to concern, a sad sort of confusion in his eyes. “Of course I did. I missed you so much.”

“You missed me,” Tommy repeated quietly, though it was more to himself than to Wilbur. His face filled with wonder as he looked up at the god. “You missed me.”

“More than anything.”

Tommy was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I missed you too . . . a lot.”

Wilbur could only smile softly and move his hand to run his fingers through the teen’s dirty, matted hair. Tommy looked past the brunet and up to the edge of the crater, seemingly just noticing that they weren’t alone.

“Phil? Techno?” he couldn’t help but ask, voice full of disbelief.

“Hey, kiddo,” Phil greeted with a comforting smile

Techno didn’t smile, but hoped his gaze conveyed his care for the boy. “It’s good to see you again, Theseus.”

Tommy laughed wetly. The bags under his eyes were large and he looked more tired than the gods had ever seen him, but his eyes were so joyful that it almost balanced out.

“Let’s get you out of this crater,” Phil offered. He shed the illusion of his burnt wings, which he used to keep up the act of his wings being injured during the final Pogtopia-Manburg battle, and instead allowed his white and gold feather to gleam under the afternoon sunlight. He glided down to the bottom of the crater and kneeled on the other side of the injured immortal. Wilbur removed his hand from the boy’s hair to allow the other god to do what he needed.

With a gentle touch, Philza put one arm under Tommy’s back and one under his knees before standing up. Tommy whimpered as his injuries were jostled, but curled up against the god’s chest. Wilbur began to climb out from the crater, while Phil flapped his wings and rose upwards, landing on solid ground beside the other gods.

“Let’s get you home, Theseus,” Techno told the immortal, finally getting to meet his gaze now that Tommy was out of the crater. “We can patch you up and get you some food. Does that sound alright?”

“Please,” he pleaded in a quiet tone.

Techno nodded and looked over to Phil and Wilbur. “We should head out now if we want to get back before it gets dark.”

They voiced their agreements and the group began to head in the direction of the cabin, Phil holding onto Tommy tight as if the immortal would disappear.

None of them had noticed that the nether portal had been rebuilt from inside the nether, nor did they see the person who had been able to see their interactions.

~

Ranboo stared at the destroyed nether portal in confusion. He had been heading to Logstedshire in hopes of visiting Tommy for a little while, but was stopped when he saw that the portal had been mostly destroyed. He couldn’t help but be a bit confused; Tommy had talked before about wanting more visitors, so why would he have destroyed the most convenient way for people to get to him?

Luckily, Ranboo had some obsidian in his inventory. He rebuilt the portal in the same place it had been before and lit it with flint and steel. He stepped into the glowing purple sheen and felt the strange sensation of traveling from one dimension to another.

When he arrived in the overworld, he was immediately greeted with the scent of smoke and gunpowder. It was worrying, to say the least. He stepped out of the portal and looked around Logstedshire, or what was left of it. He stared in confusion at the craters that littered the area and the ashes that littered the ground. He was only drawn away by the sound of a voice.

Ranboo hid behind a tree, peeking out to see what was going on. He was greeted by the sight of Technoblade staring down into a rather large crater. He didn’t appear to be speaking, but it sounded as if someone in the hole was talking.

‘Did Technoblade destroy Logstedshire?’ Ranboo couldn’t help but wonder. ‘It wouldn’t be out of character, considering the stories of what he did to L’manburg. It would certainly be awfully rude of him, though, seeing as Tommy is already quite down on his luck.’

Ranboo paused that line of thinking as someone crawled out of the crater, but he quickly found that it wasn’t Tommy. He couldn’t help but recognize the face of whoever it was.

‘Is that Ghostbur?! No, wait . . . Ghostbur is pale and translucent, and this person appears to be corporeal, but their faces look so similar. He almost looks like if Ghostbur was alive, but that would mean that he’s-’ Ranboo’s eyes widened as he realized exactly who it was. He had never met Wilbur Soot, seeing as the former leader was a ghost by the time he had been allowed into the SMP, but he was sure this was the man. He had seen pictures in history books about the revolution and in pictures that Tommy had shown him.

Ranboo didn’t have much time to ponder about how Ghostbur was suddenly Wilbur again, as another person suddenly emerged from the crater. He recognized the person easily, as he had seen and talked to Philza many times before, but was taken aback by his gleaming wings. From what Ranboo had seen, Phil’s wings were damaged beyond repair, having apparently been burnt while protecting Wilbur from the TNT he had set off. But it appeared that the man just suddenly had his wings back, and Ranboo couldn’t stop himself from staring in awe.

The last person Ranboo realized was there was Tommy, who was being held in Philza’s arms. Even from such a distance, the enderman hybrid could tell that his friend was injured, covered in bruises and burns. It had been a few weeks since he had been able to visit the exiled teen, but he hadn’t expected anything this bad to happen while he was away.

‘Is this my fault?’ he couldn’t help but wonder. ‘Should I have visited more? Should I have helped him more? Should I have fought harder to stop him from being exiled?’

Ranboo was drawn out of his self pitying thoughts when the people he was watching began to speak again.

“Let’s get you home, Theseus,” Ranboo heard Techno say, though it was muffled a bit by the distance. “We can patch you up and get you some food. Does that sound alright?”

Suddenly, a wave of guilt seemed to hit Ranboo for immediately assuming that it was Techno who destroyed Logstedshire. The man was an anarchist, but he wasn’t cruel to places that had no government.

“Please,” Tommy pleaded, and Ranboo was taken aback by the desperation in his friend’s voice. He had always known Tommy to be fiery, always snarky even when facing someone as terrifying and powerful as Dream, but he sounded so small, so fragile in that moment.

“We should head out now if we want to get back before it gets dark.”

Ranboo watched as the group turned around, their backs completely to him, and walked into the treeline, assumedly heading to wherever Techno lived in the snow biome. It wasn’t until they were fully out of sight that he stepped out from his hiding spot. He took a few deep breaths and headed back to the nether portal. The enderman hybrid stepped through and found himself back in the welcoming heat of the lava filled dimension.

Ranboo turned back to the portal he had fixed and pulled out his diamond pickaxe. He began to destroy the portal, so as to erase evidence of his visit, and prayed that nobody would bother the small family that obviously just wanted to be left alone. After disabling the portal to Logstedshire, he turned around and began to run home, knowing he needed to write everything down before he forgot.

+1

George was spiraling again. He was sitting in the mushroom house he had come to hate and he was spiraling down, drowning in his guilt like he seemed to do every few days. There was always a cause for it, and this time was no different.

He had been walking in the Holy Land, mostly to avoid Sapnap trying to jokingly jump him again, when he saw Quackity and BadBoyHalo hanging out. It wasn’t unusual to see the two of them together, as they had become pretty close friends over the past months. The two were just walking together and chatting, as opposed to getting up to their usual shenanigans, and they were getting closer to where George was sitting alone.

“-thinking about going to visit Tommy soon,” he heard Quackity say. “I haven’t gotten a chance to in a while.”

A wave of guilt crashed over George.

“I should probably do the same,” Bad admitted sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure almost nobody has visited him and I feel kinda bad that I haven’t in a couple months.”

In his peripheral, George could see Quackity nod in agreement.

“He seemed so sad last time I was there. Maybe we should go together and try to cheer him up!”

“That’s a great idea! We could bring him some presents and hang out with him for a while!” Bad’s voice was filled with excitement, obviously joyful at the prospect of helping somebody that he considered a friend.

George didn’t catch the next thing the two said, as they were out of earshot at that point, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered since all he could hear at that moment was the blood rushing through his ears and his heart beating. He scrambled up from his spot and began to walk, completely unsure of his destination. All he knew was that he needed to get away from there, he needed to get away from all the guilt consuming his chest.

George ended up back at his mushroom house, though he doesn’t really remember how he got there. One second he was in the Holy Land, and the next he was lying on the wooden floor of his vacation home and staring up at the ceiling. His breaths were labored as he stared at the oak planks above him.

‘This is your fault!’ his thoughts screamed. ‘You slept through the election! You ignored your friends dying in battle! You built this house! You let a child be exiled!’

George’s mind conjured up a horrible image, one that he knew would be ingrained in his head. He could only think of Tommy in some area of wilderness, dirty and thin, attempting to fight off a mob with only a wooden sword. He could only imagine the teenager sitting alone and waiting for someone, anyone, to come and visit him. He could only see the image of this child, traumatized by wars and watching his brother die, attempting to cope while isolated in the middle of nowhere.

And it was all his fault. 

George knew he should’ve fought harder against the harsh punishment, knew he should’ve stopped Dream from building a wall around L’manburg and threatening war against a teenage president. He was the king at the time, though the title was taken away not soon after, and he could’ve stopped all of this mess from happening if he had just told Dream no.

He didn’t even care about the stupid mushroom house! It was fixed in a matter of hours and Tommy had left all of his things untouched, so it wasn’t like there was any real damage done. At most, Tommy’s punishment should’ve been to help rebuild the house and maybe do a bit of community service. Exile, and near complete isolation, was not the way to discipline a traumatized teenage veteran who had only just gotten his home back! But there was nobody George could be mad at except for himself . . . and Dream.

There was a knock at the door, but George didn’t acknowledge it. Only moments later, the door opened and then shut, though he didn’t bother sitting up to see who had come into his house.

“You’re spiraling again, aren’t you?” Sapnap said in lieu of a greeting, and it was more of a statement than a question.

“It’s my fault,” George replied, watching in his peripheral as his friend sat down at the kitchen table. “I should’ve fought harder against the exile.”

“You didn’t”

George cut him off. “He’s out there all alone, Sapnap! Practically nobody visits him and he’s stuck out in the middle of nowhere!”

“Then visit him,” Sapnap suggested casually.

George paused and sat up, looking over at his friend and finally making eye contact. “What?”

“You said that nobody visits him, so why don’t you do it? You could talk it out with him and apologize for the exile. I bet he’ll forgive you.”

George pondered the suggestion for a minute, but quickly found that there were no cons to the idea, besides Tommy maybe getting mad at him. “Would you come with me?”

“If you want me to,” Sapnap told him with a small smile. “I’ve always got your back, man.”

George stood up, feeling himself begin to climb out of the spiral. “We should bring him some stuff. He never got to grab stuff from his house before his exile, so maybe he’d appreciate it if we brought him some of his sentimental items and such.”

Sapnap stood as well. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go get his shit and visit him!”

~

The first thing George noticed as he stepped into Tommy’s abandoned house was that it was dark. That made sense, of course, seeing as the lanterns had burned out months ago and there hadn’t been anybody to replace them. The light pouring in from the windows was enough to see, but it didn’t make the place as bright as it once was.

The second thing he noticed was just how unkept it was. It was obvious that nobody had stepped foot in the home since Tommy was exiled months ago, evidenced by the cobwebs and layers of dust that seemed to cover every surface. It was quiet, and it was strange considering just how exuberant the teen who lived in it used to be.

George tried not to ponder anything too long, instead entering the house and heading towards the chests stacked up against one wall. He could see out of the corner of his eye as Sapnap went to another chest and began to rifle through it, grabbing a few things he thought Tommy would like to have. They went through the things in silence, entering different rooms to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

“What the fuck?” Sapnap said, the words muffled by the walls between them. 

George walked out of the bedroom and into the joint living room and kitchen, where Sapnap was kneeling on the ground. The brit looked over his shoulder and found that his friend had discovered a loose floorboard with a chest hidden under it.

“What’s in there?” George asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“There’s a bunch of old pictures. Like, really old pictures,” Sapnap responded, picking up the items. “And there’s a journal.” The man stood up with the items and George followed, the two finding themselves at the kitchen table in the small house and sitting down. They began to flip through the loose photographs.

The first picture was of Tommy, though he was in very different clothes from his normal getup. In the picture, he was wearing a red and white tunic and was adorned with silver jewelry, as well as a crown of ivy around his head. He was smiling brightly, kneeling down in front of a wooden sign that had the words ‘All we do is live in fear of Tommyinnit’ messily scrawled onto it. At the bottom of the photo, someone had written the words ‘They have a right to be scared - Terraforming the Moon - October 31st’

The second photo was of Tommy, Philza, Wilbur, and Technoblade standing around a jukebox, all four of them wearing fancy clothes and jewelry. In the picture, Tommy’s mouth was open as if he was singing and Techno had a hand over his mouth as if beatboxing. Meanwhile, Phil appeared to be laughing and Wilbur just looked fondly exasperated. At the bottom were the words ‘Someone take PigStep away from them - Terraforming the Moon - October 31st’

The third photo was of Tommy, still in his tunic, floating in the air as if he were in creative mode, with a bell in his hand. Below him, there appeared to be a crowd of people all clamoring to get to him and the golden bell, but he was just smiling smugly down at them. The bottom of the photo had the words ‘I had to make a new bell because he wouldn’t give it back - Bell Ringing Challenge - November 30th’

The fourth picture was of Tommy looking into a bedrock room through a glass window. Inside the bedrock room appeared to be a person, who looked as though they were begging to get out, surrounded by bats. The bottom of the photo had the words ‘He loves his bats - Terraforming the Moon - October 31st’

The fifth photograph was of Tommy bestowing a stick upon a person beside a small pool of lava. The person he’s handing the stick to looked terrified, while Tommy was grinning sadistically, and there appeared to be people falling in the background. The bottom of the photograph read ‘Netherite armor in exchange for sticks seems like a good trade - Falling Blocks Challenge - November 25th’

The sixth photograph was of Tommy standing on top of a platform. He had a bunch of signs behind him, but was specifically pointing to the sign that read ‘No charging they phone’ and was smiling wide as he singled it out. Some of the other signs could be made out, and appeared to be several rules and things that were needed. There was no caption, except for the words ‘Rebuilding Civilization - October 14th’

The seventh (and final) photograph was of both Tommy and Wilbur in their extravagant tunics and jewels. The picture showed Wilbur facing the camera, no expression on his face, but bloodlust evident in his eyes and his hands pressed together as though praying. Beside him was Tommy, smiling brightly. The words scrawled on the bottom read ‘Tommy’s first time helping with a challenge’

“That last one . . .” George whispered, taking the photo from Sapnap’s hands to observe it more closely. “It feels familiar, but I can’t place my finger on it.

“It looks like . . .” Sapnap paused and pulled something out of his inventory, an old scroll he had completely forgotten about but kept since nearly the beginning of the SMP. He unrolled the painting onto the table and smoothed it over. George set down the photo next to it.

“No way,” George breathed out, staring at how the painting and the photograph seemed to line up nearly perfectly. “This makes no sense.”

Sapnap couldn’t stop glancing between the two items on the table, noting the correct colors of the tunics and jewels, the similar hairstyles, the near identical poses. “I knew it! Those legends of an old god who made humans play his games, and his immortal helper that used to be a human are real! I knew there was something weird about that room and all the writings they had about them! This means . . . oh, Prime . . . Wilbur Soot is . . . he’s an old god. Tommyinnit must be the human turned immortal.”

“Do you know what this means?” George asked aloud, making his friend turn to him. “We’ve been fighting wars against a god. Dream exiled an immortal.”

“We are so fucked.”

George, seemingly remembering the journal, opened up the old leather and found himself greeted by wrinkled pages, all yellowed with age. Quickly flipping through, the two found that it was a scrapbook, filled with more photos and diary entries. He flipped to a random entry towards the beginning.

“‘Tommyinnit is a most peculiar mortal,’” George read aloud, catching Sapnap’s attention. “‘He is so unlike any human I have met before. He didn’t run away when I first met him, nor did he show any fear towards me, instead choosing to welcome me into his house and cook for me. When I revealed my status as an old god, he remained unbothered, and when I asked if he’d like to participate in my challenges as a sort of assistant to me, he only appeared to be excited despite knowing what horrors lay in my little games. Tomorrow will be our first time holding a challenge together, so I suppose we will see how it goes.’”

Sapnap took the book from George’s hand and flipped to a much later page. “‘As of the recent couple years, I have spent much time around Tommyinnit and I have found him to be a suitable companion, so I have decided that I am going to turn him immortal, if he so agrees to be turned. He is the only human I have ever taken interest in for more than entertainment, and therefore he must be special. Not only that, but Techno and Philza both appear to have a soft spot for the mortal, and it is quite the unlikely occurrence for gods to create such attachments, especially to humans. It would be an error on my own part if I were to let such a unique mortal perish.’”

George rubbed a hand over his face, feeling too exhausted to deal with any of this.

“Wilbur Soot, Technoblade, and Philza are gods!” Sapnap exclaimed as if George didn’t know. “Tommyinnit is a fucking immortal! This is just fucking great! Exactly what we needed!”

“Dream has been claiming he’s a god,” George muttered.

Sapnap paused. “What?”

“Dream has been claiming he’s a god,” George repeated, “and we have actual gods on this server! I can’t exactly imagine they’ll be happy when they find out!”

Sapnap leaned back a bit and ran a hand through his hair. “We have to go find them.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Maybe if we tell them that we found out by accident, and then tell them about Dream claiming to be a god, then they’ll spare us!” Sapnap defended.

“They’re gods! They’re not going to show us mercy!”

“You saw the journal! It’s obvious they have some emotions, considering they turned Tommy immortal! I genuinely think we’ll be okay.”

George sighed, looking defeated. “Fine, but I’m gonna bug you so much in the afterlife if we die.”

Sapnap smiled a bit, standing up and gathering the items on the table. He placed the photos and the journal into his inventory. “Let’s get going.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?” George asked, also standing up. “I don’t think anyone actually knows where Technoblade’s cabin is.”

Sapnap pulled out a compass that led directly to the cabin and received a raised eyebrow in response. “The Butcher Army raided Philza’s house and got the compass so they could find Technoblade and attempt to execute him soon. Quackity gave it to me for safe keeping.”

“Imagine trying to execute the Blood God,” George muttered. “Fucking idiots.”

~

Nerves bubbled up in George’s stomach as he knocked on the wooden door of Technoblade’s cabin. There was no guarantee he was going to make it out without losing a canon life, and the thought terrified him, but he knew there was no turning back now.

When the Blood God actually answered the door, he felt the breath knocked out of him in complete terror. He stared up at the god, frozen and unable to utter even a single word.

“What are you two doing here?” Technoblade demanded, a hand hovering over the sword attached to his hip.

“We’re not here to fight!” Sapnap promised quickly. “We don’t want any trouble.”

Technoblade seemed to relax a little bit, but remained suspicious of the two.

“Then why are you here?”

Sapnap opened his mouth to explain, but then looked to George for help.

“Well, uh, you see . . .” George started, voice timid. “I’ve spent the last few months feeling really . . . guilty, I suppose, about Tommy’s exile.”

Technoblade seemed to grow angrier at the mention of the exile, so he rushed to keep explaining.

“Sapnap suggested I come visit Tommy. I wanted to apologize and attempt to make amends for not fighting Dream harder about the exile. He didn’t deserve such a harsh punishment. I thought maybe we could grab some of Tommy’s items from his house and bring them to him, since he didn’t get to bring any of his things when he was exiled.” George looked over to his friend to help him explain the next part.

Sapnap averted his gaze from Technoblade’s harsh glare. “We found some . . . interesting things.”

It was silent for a moment.

“Go on,” the god prompted.

Sapnap pulled the photos and the journal from his inventory, offering them to Technoblade. “There was this loose floorboard. I pulled it up and found a chest with these inside of it.”

The Blood God took the items, eyes widening as he realized what this meant for them.

“Who else knows?” Technoblade growled, eyes practically glowing.

“Nobody!” George exclaimed. “We came here as soon as we found out!”

Sapnap nodded along fervently. “We aren’t stupid enough to tell anybody and get on the bad side of three god! Do you take us for idiots?”

Technoblade huffed, but took a step back and opened the door wider. “Come inside. We must discuss.”

George and Sapnap shared a look, but they went inside anyway. They stood awkwardly in the foyer of the warm cabin while the god shut the door behind them and locked it. Technoblade walked in front of them and motioned to the living room, and soon all three of them were seated.

“We-” Sapnap started, but was interrupted.

“Hello, George! Hello, Sapnap!” the cheerful voice of Ghostbur rang out, and the two looked to the doorway to see the ghost entering the room. “How are you-”

“You can drop the act, Wil,” Techno told him. “They know.”

The two mortals watched with wide eyes as the ghost became corporeal and gained his color back until he looked just like the normal Wilbur Soot. A moment later, Philza walked into the room, pausing as he took in their guests and Wilbur being in his normal human form.

“Do they-?” Phil started.

“Yeah,” Techno huffed.

Phil let his wings drop the illusion of being burnt and sighed, sitting down on a chair in the living room and running a hand over his face.

“I’ll get Tommy,” Wilbur told them, exiting the room.

“Tommy’s here?” George questioned, turning to Technoblade. He sounded some mix of nervous and hopeful.

“He’s been here for a few weeks,” the Blood God responded. “We took him away from exile after Dream . . .”

“What did Dream do?” Sapnap asked cautiously.

It was Philza who spoke up this time. “He was there a lot during Tommy’s exile, and he wasn’t exactly the kindest in terms of physical or verbal interactions. He blew up Logstedshire in the end, though did plenty of terrible things in the months before that.”

Sapnap’s face morphed into one of horror and George found himself staring down at his hands in his lap.

“This is my fault,” George muttered. “If I had just fought harder aga-”

“This is not on you, George!” Sapnap insisted, turning to face his friend. “Dream was the one who decided to be a bastard, and you are not at fault for his shitty actions!”

Before anybody could say anything else, Wilbur came back into the living room with Tommy trailing behind him. The immortal eyed the two guests with trepidation, walking quickly across the room to join Techno on the small couch. He curled up into himself and leaned into the god a bit. Techno gave the two mortals a look that effectively communicated that he would not hesitate to end them if they tried to hurt Tommy. The terrified look they gave back assured that they understood.

“So,” Technoblade spoke up, “why did you immediately come here after finding out?”

“We figured you didn’t want anybody to know,” Sapnap explained, “and we didn’t exactly want to get on the bad side of three gods.”

“Are you aligned with Dream anymore?” Tommy questioned, voice quiet.

“No,” George answered firmly. “He’s an awful person and I’ve ceased any and all communication with him since Eret took over as king.”

He paused for a minute before speaking again.

“I’m sorry for your exile, by the way. I should’ve fought harder against Dream when it came to that punishment. You never should’ve received discipline so harsh, especially when it was so easy to repair my house. You didn’t deserve any of what you went through.”

Tommy seemed to relax his defensive stance and grinned a bit. “It’s not your fault. Dream is just a bitch.”

George gave a small chuckle and a sad smile.

“He really is a bitch,” Sapnap piped up. “He’s been trying to get full control over everyone ever since the exile and he’s got a god complex the size of the entire SMP.”

“A god complex?” Wilbur repeated, leaning forward. He seemed suddenly very interested in the conversation.

George rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed about the whole thing. “Ever since he got the revival book from Schlatt, he’s been going around claiming he’s a god and can control life and death.”

Philza’s face seemed to darken and the two mortals couldn’t help but shrink back at the expression. Technoblade seemed amused and Wilbur looked almost offended.

Tommy burst out laughing. “Dream claimed he was the God of Death while completely unaware that the literal God of Death is in his land? The fucking irony!”

“I believe we need to make a visit to the central part of the SMP,” Philza told the two gods and the immortal, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“So . . . you’re not gonna kill us, right?” Sapnap couldn’t help but ask, making everybody turn to the blaze hybrid.

“No,” Technoblade answered immediately. “There’s no reason for us to. You immediately came to us when you found out, you unallied yourself with Dream months ago, and you provided us with valuable information. It would be unwise of us to kill you.”

“And our days of meaningless killing are relatively far behind us,” Wilbur added with an innocent smile.

“Meaningful killing, though? That’s still on the table,” Philza told them. “So Dream better watch the fuck out.”

“And this is why we didn’t want to get on your bad side,” George muttered, and the rest of the occupants of the room laughed.

~

Tommy stepped out of the nether portal first, and he couldn’t help but look around. It had been over six months since he’d been exiled, and it felt strange to be back, even if it was technically illegal for him to be back. A moment later, Technoblade, Wilbur, and Philza all stepped out behind him and stood beside the immortal. They were then followed by George and Sapnap, who stuck behind them.

Tommy began to lead them down the steps towards the Prime Path and the group just followed. Nobody had a real clue where Dream was at that moment, but George and Sapnap had mentioned that there was a likely chance he was in L’manburg, as he seemed to spend more and more time scouting out the country, likely in hopes of taking it over and gaining full control over all the land of the SMP.

“Where do you think we should look?” Tommy asked , turning his head a bit to side to half-face the group as they walked. “Maybe he-”

“Tommy?”

Tommy looked up and saw Tubbo further ahead on the Prime Path. He froze, causing the group behind him to stop walking as well. It was all quiet for a few moments before the L’manburg president began to approach them. It seemed the cabinet was with him, as Ranboo, Fundy, Niki, Jack, and Quackity walked forwards too. The two groups were only feet away staring each other down.

“Tommy, you can’t be here,” Tubbo stated firmly, but his voice wavered a bit.

“Tubbo . . .” Tommy started, but trailed off.

Tubbo huffed a bit. “You’re exiled, Tommy. You can’t be in-”

“Wilbur?” Niki questioned aloud, drawing attention away from Tommy. The group turned to the man, staring as he realized that he was translucent and all smiley as he was before.

“What’s up?” Wilbur greeted, looking a bit sheepish.

“How?” Quackity asked, eyeing the corporeal man up and down in disbelief.

Nobody bothered to answer.

“Do you know where Dream is?” Technoblade asked the group of L’manburgians.

“What do you need, Techno?” a cocky voice asked from behind the group. The three gods and two mortals split, Tommy turning around so he was facing Dream. He gave the man an unimpressed look, but his hands were shaking just a bit.

“Dream.”

“You aren’t supposed to be here, Tommy.” Dream drew his sword from its sheath. “I told you what would happen.”

Tommy scoffed and walked until he was right in front of Dream, only a foot away from the point of the sword.

“Tommy, what are you doing?!” Tubbo cried.

“Run!” Quackity begged.

Niki grabbed Wilbur’s arm, making the man turn to her. “Do something! He’s going to die.”

Wilbur said nothing in response, just turning back to the spectacle.

“I told you what would happen,” Dream repeated. “I told you I would kill you. I said I would run this sword right through you.”

Tommy only gave a sardonic smile. “I’d love to see you try.”

And Dream did. He lunged forward and ran the sword right into Tommy’s stomach. The group of L’manburgians cried out and Tubbo began to rush forward, but Technoblade put out an arm out to stop him.

“He’s going to die!” Tubbo wailed. “Your brother is about to die! Why don’t you care?”

“He’ll be okay,” Philza promised. “Just wait.”

Tommy did not crumble like Dream expected him to. Instead, he stayed upright, though he winced at the pain of the sword running through him.

“I forgot how much getting stabbed hurts,” Tommy rasped out, blood gushing from the wound. But the blood was not red like the people around him expected. It wasn’t a deep color that matched that of the roses growing in the grass along the path. No, this blood was a glittering silver, similar to the ichor that ran through gods, but not quite the same. Dream stared at the blood in confusion, panic in his eyes despite his blank face.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, Dream,” Tommy told him. He grabbed the blade with both of his hands, not caring as it cut his fingers and palms open, and pulled the sword out, pushing Dream back in his process. “You are no god, and neither am I, but I know what gods look like.”

“What are you talking about?” Dream snapped. “I am a god! You know nothing of deities!”

“Really?” Tommy asked with a mocking tone. Wilbur stepped forward to stand beside the blond. The brunet pressed his hands together as if praying and Tommy’s smile slipped away into a more serious expression. Behind the two, Sapnap pulled a rolled up scroll from his inventory and handed it to Philza, who stepped up to stand beside the two. He unrolled the paper and turned it around to show Dream, who seemed to recognize the painting.

“Look familiar?” Philza mocked, a dangerous smile on his face.

Dream scoffed, but was looking increasingly nervous. “It’s just a coincidence that you look similar to that painting!” 

“This is so boring,” Technoblade muttered, moving to stand on the other side of Wilbur and Tommy. “Can we just kill him already?”

“Even if you could kill me, that wouldn’t prove you to be gods!” Dream insisted.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to do to prove it? Do you want me to pull something from the creative inventory?” Wilbur pulled out a nether star, followed by chainmail armor, followed by four Pigstep discs. “I could control water, if you’d like.” He motioned a hand towards the small pond near the path, some of the water rising into the air and then doing a small spiral before falling again. “Is that enough proof or do you need something more?”

Dream was staring at them with terror, while the L’manburgians behind the group looked just as shocked. 

“You’re . . . you’re a god,” he breathed out, voice shaky with fear.

“So I am,” Wilbur responded with a menacing smile.

“You have some real nerve,” Technoblade spoke up, “calling yourself a god.”

“The God of Death, no less,” Philza added on. “Especially when I’m right here.”

“You claimed to be a god and then harmed the one human the gods have ever favored,” Wilbur spat, placing a protective arm around Tommy.

“You fucked up, Dream.”

Dream stumbled back a few steps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. Technoblade pulled out the Axe of Peace and marched forwards, bloodlust evident in his eyes. He kept moving forwards, and Dream kept moving back, until the false god stumbled and fell onto the wooden planks. He stared up at the god, feeling nothing but pure fear.

“Blood for the Blood God,” Techno declared and brought his axe down on Dream’s neck.

And then it was over. Dream’s body collapsed into dust, seeing as it was only his first life, but the gods and immortal knew he wouldn’t be back. Techno put the axe into his inventory once more and made his way back to the group. The gods turned away from where Dream’s body once was and were facing a group of confused mortals.

“I know you all have questions,” Tommy told the group, but then turned to Phil, “but can we please maybe heal my wound first? Just because I can’t die doesn’t mean this shit doesn’t hurt.”

Philza stepped forward and placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. Both of them closed their eyes and the mortals watched in awe as a faint golden light seemed to surround the two. They watched as Tommy’s wound closed up and the blood seemed to disappear. After a few moments, Phil stepped away.

“You feel alright?” Phil asked, to which Tommy nodded.

“You guys are gods?!” Tubbo exclaimed, seemingly breaking out of his shock.

“Yeah, this is gonna take a while to explain,” Wilbur muttered. “We should probably gather the rest of the SMP and sit somewhere to talk about it.

The group seemed displeased at having to wait longer, but complied nonetheless.

~

“So why were we asked to come here?” Antfrost asked once everybody was seated in the Community House. Several others gave mumbles of agreement with the question, also confused about the sudden gathering.

“Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy have some stuff to explain to us,” Niki informed them, motioning to where the four were sitting together. Everybody turned their attention to SBI and waited.

“A few people here already know, so we figured we’d just tell the whole server,” Philza spoke up, addressing the room. “Techno, Wil, and I are all gods.”

The room was silent, everybody just staring at them.

Phil chuckled nervously under all the shocked looks. “I’m the God of Life, Death, and the Sky.”

“I’m the God of Blood, Harvests, and Land,” Techno piped up.

“And I’m the God of Chaos, Music, and Water,” Wilbur finished.

Everyone appeared to be attempting to process the information.

“So, what does Tommy have to do with this?” BadBoyHalo questioned.

“I’m immortal, but not by birth,” Tommy explained. “Wilbur found me one day and pretty much just decided I was gonna help him with shit he did, but we spent time together and I kinda became like his brother. Then I met Techno and Philza and they both liked me, so Wilbur asked me if I wanted to be immortal. A few centuries later and here we are!”

“You’re immortal?” Puffy asked with wide eyes.

“Yep!” Wilbur answered for the blond. “So he’s stuck with us!”

“More like we’re stuck with him,” Techno grumbled, but Tommy knew it was just a joke.

“Are you okay there, Fundy?” Niki asked. Everybody turned to look over at the fox hybrid, curious what was going on. Fundy was staring at the ground with a panicked expression and confused eyes. He looked up when Niki addressed him.

“I just fucking found out that my dad’s a god! I'm kinda going through shit right now!” he exclaimed.

Wilbur looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze. “Yeah, uh, sorry about not telling you. To be fair, nobody really knew.”

“If nobody knew,” Quackity spoke up, “then why drop the act now?”

“That was kinda my fault,” Sapnap jumped in. “George and I accidentally found out about them being gods and then told them about Dream claiming to be a god.”

“We don’t take kindly to false gods,” Techno grumbled in a warning tone.

“Where even is Dream?” Skeppy asked from where he was sitting next to Bad. “You’d think he’d be here for this.”

Those who had been there at Dream’s final moments turned to look at the three gods and the immortal, who all just looked away and pretended they didn’t hear the question. After a few moments, they realized the four weren’t going to explain.

“Technoblade killed him,” Tubbo finally answered.

“He took all three of his lives?!” Antfrost questioned in shock, making Tubbo pause and turn to the gods once more.

Techno sighed. “Technically, I only took one.”

“So why hasn’t he respawned?”

“I blocked him from doing so,” Philza explained. “God of Death and all that.”

“Anyone have any more questions?” Tommy asked, stopping the conversation about Dream from going any further. Everyone stayed silent, so the young immortal stood up. “Well, then, I’m gonna go sleep for about a week. Just because I can’t die doesn’t mean getting stabbed and bleeding quite a lot doesn’t take a toll.”

With those final words, Tommy left the Community House as if it was the most casual thing ever.

Wilbur sighed and stood up. “I’m gonna go make sure he actually eats and doesn’t go into a coma.”

Technoblade let out a long suffering sigh and turned to the god next to him. “I cannot believe we are stuck with that child for eternity.”

“You cried and hugged him for over twenty minutes when you found out that Wilbur turned him immortal,” Philza teased, making Techno scoff in response.

“This is slander and I will not stand for it!” The pink haired god stood up and began to follow the path Wilbur and Tommy had gone down, his cape waving dramatically behind him.

Philza had a fond smile on his face as he turned to all the mortal server members. “I’m gonna go deal with all of them. Pray for me . . . or pray to me, either way works.”

The winged god stood and followed the other three, leaving the rest of the server members in the Community House.

“I hate this server,” Ranboo muttered.

“I’ll second that one,” Sam replied.

~

“Please?” Tubbo begged.

“For the millionth time, Tubs, I’m not pulling a fucking jackolantern out of the creative inventory just so you can scare Ranboo!” Tommy replied, sounding fondly exasperated. “If you want to do that, go carve a pumpkin yourself!”

“But they’re not in season right now!”

“Then go pray to Techno or something.” Tommy went back to building his new house. Tubbo huffed, but helped anyways.

“What are we praying to Technoblade for?” Ranboo asked, coming up to join the two.

“Pumpkins!” Tubbo exclaimed, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Boring!” a familiar voice called out. The three turned and saw Wilbur walking towards the construction sight, the god playing around with some water floating around his fingers. “I miss the days when mortals prayed to the gods so they wouldn’t die in my challenges!”

Tubbo and Ranboo seemed apprehensive. It made sense, seeing as they were still getting used to living on a server with three gods that were once known for being merciless. Of course, the gods hadn’t done any challenges in a few decades, but that didn’t mean that their reputation of cruelty was completely erased. The mortals of the server were trying their best to adjust to the gods and their jokes about the olden days.

Tommy just rolled his eyes at the god. “Bitch.”

“Gremlin.” Despite the insult, Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair. He pulled a cornflower out of the creative inventory and placed behind his little brother’s ear, the stem weaving through his blond locks.

Ranboo and Tubbo shared a look as they observed the scene. It was moments like this that proved that the gods were different than they had once been. They were kinder, at least to the innocent, and more mischievous than merciless. It reminded them that, as long as they didn’t purposely harm Tommy, they had the gods on their side.

“I’m gonna go fuck with Quackity!” Wilbur announced to the group. “His reactions are hilarious. I’ll see you guys later!”

“Bye, Wil!” Tommy called, and the other two gave slightly quieter sendoffs.

The group got back to building, joking around all the while, and everything felt alright for once in the SMP.

Chapter Text

“What’s this?” Tubbo asked, catching the attention of his two friends.

Ranboo and Tommy abandoned their own unpacking to come over to the brunet crouching by a box. They knelt on either side of Tubbo to see what he was talking about. Ranboo looked confused as he caught sight of the object, but Tommy’s face lit up.

“My amulet!” Tommy exclaimed, taking the gemstone connected to a chain from Tubbo’s hands. “Man, I’ve been looking for this for over a century!”

Ranboo’s eyes widened as he attempted to process that sentence.

“It was buried underneath a bunch of other stuff in this box,” Tubbo told him, motioning to the cardboard he was sitting in front of. He watched his blond friend give him a blinding smile and clasp the necklace around his neck.

“Where’d you get it?” Ranboo couldn’t help but ask, entranced by the faint glow of the purple gemstone. “Seems like it means a lot to you.”

Tommy fiddled with the amulet a bit. “Techno mined the gem, Wilbur handcrafted it into shape, and Phil carved runes into it. They gifted it to me a few months after they met me. It’s for protection, since I was very much still able to die back then.”

Ranboo was struggling to process all of the information, seeing as it would be rather hard for someone to cope with the fact that their friend they’d known for a few months was actually an immortal that was extremely close to gods. Tubbo, on the other hand, looked excited by the concept of such a godly artifact, eyes shining as he took in the information that Tommy told him.

“Do you have more stuff like that?” Tubbo asked with an awe filled voice.

Tommy laughed. “Of course I do!”

The blond stood up and began to walk across the room. Tubbo stood up, pulling Ranboo with him, and the two watched as he picked up one of the cardboard boxes and lugged it over to the living room, placing it down on the coffee table. Tubbo ran over and sat down on the couch and Ranboo followed him, though much more hesitantly.

Tommy, who was standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, ripped off the tape and opened up the box. From where they were sitting Ranboo and Tubbo couldn’t see what was inside, so they had to wait for their friend to pull out whatever was encased in the cardboard.

“This was a gift from Techno!” Tommy exclaimed as he pulled a dagger in a sheath out of the box. The handle was gold and encrusted with rubies. It was a bit worn with age, but the metal still shone in the light.

Tubbo held out a hand in a silent question, and Tommy happily obliged, handing the dagger over to the brunet. Tubbo held it as if it were the most precious thing in the world, examining it with wide and curious eyes. Ranboo watched him for a moment before looking back over to where Tommy was rustling through the box.

“Aha!” Tommy exclaimed. “There it is!”

The immortal was holding a gleaming silver chalice up. It was a bit dull, obviously needing to be polished, but it was stunning nonetheless. It was quite a simple artifact, with no shining jewels on it, but there were carvings across it that Ranboo couldn’t make out as he examined it from a few feet away.

“It belonged to Wilbur originally,” Tommy elaborated, seemingly noticing Ranboo’s interest in the item. He passed it over to the enderman hybrid, who took it with a gentle grasp. “In tradition, chalices tend to represent the element of water, so, ya know, God of Water and all that.”

Tubbo was now focused on the chalice too, looking at it in his friend’s hands while softly placing the dagger back down on the coffee table. Ranboo spun it around a bit, admiring all the pictures carved into the metal. It was so intricate that it likely took someone ages to make, having to perfect every little detail. It was absolutely stunning, in Ranboo’s opinion.

“My ivy crown!” Tommy shouted, joy laced into his voice. “I haven’t worn this thing in years!”

“Is that real ivy?” Tubbo asked, looking away from the chalice to take the ivy crown Tommy was handing to him.

“Yep! Techno made it and placed a charm on it so it would never wilt!”

Ranboo raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “He can do that?”

“All powerful god, innit?” Tommy shrugged and went back to digging through the box.

Tommy pulled more items out, listing off where they were from and what they meant to him. He really had everything; a bell from a challenge he did with Wilbur (“I stole the first bell and he had to create another since I wouldn’t give it back”), a several pieces of golden jewelry all gifted to him from Techno (“God of the land and all that, makes sense he always gives me precious metals from the earth”), old clothing (“Tunics are more comfortable than I first thought they would be!”), and several other little gifts and collected items.

Tommy gasped as he pulled something out, seemingly lost in thought as he stared at it. Ranboo and Tubbo gazed curiously at the item, not quite understanding. It took a few moments, but Tommy eventually broke out of his trance to explain.

“It’s a piece of the clouds,” Tommy told them, looking at the corked bottle in his hands and holding it as if it were the entire world. “I always thought it was so cool that Philza could fly, but I used to be jealous since I’ll never be able to. He brought me this one night when he was visiting and I’ll always remember what he said as he handed it to me.”

Tommy turned the glass in his hands as if trying to memorize every single detail of the cloud from every angle.

“‘If I can’t bring you to the skies, I’ll bring the skies to you,’” the immortal recited with a fond smile, running a thumb along the bottle. He looked up to his friends and handed the bottle off to Ranboo, who was sure to hold it with as much care as Tommy did.

As he stared at the shimmering cloud encased in the glass, Ranboo couldn’t help but wonder what it was like. What a strange life to lead, to be a human turned into an immortal simply because you gained the favor of three gods. And it wasn’t as if Tommy had just gained their favor𑁋 Ranboo had seen with his own eyes how much the three cared for the immortal. It was obvious the gods were willing to do anything for Tommy, so willing to walk to the ends of the earth or the edge of the universe just to make him smile.

What was it like to be adored by the gods? What must it be like knowing that the God of the Sky was willing to pull down the clouds for you? Was Tommy even aware of how much they cared? Did he know that Wilbur would part the ocean for him? Did he know that Technoblade would rob the earth of every resource just for him? Did he know that Philza would steal every star out of the sky just to see how his eyes shone in the reflection of their light? Ranboo couldn’t tell if Tommy was fully aware of just how far these powerful beings were willing to go just to make sure he was happy.

Ranboo desperately tried to imagine how it must feel to be so admired by three gods, how it must feel to be adored by beings infinitely more powerful than yourself. He came up empty, however, finding that the very thought was so far beyond his reach. He had known love, and he had been loved, but not in the way Tommy was loved by these gods. It was one thing for someone to say they would pull the sky down for you, but it was another to actually have them bottle the clouds and gift them to you.

“Can I see it?” Tubbo whispered to Ranboo, breaking the enderman hybrid from his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course,” he replied, fumbling over his words as he passed the bottle into Tubbo’s gentle hold. The brunet gazed at the shimmering clouds in the bottle with wonder as Ranboo watched his immortal friend search for more interesting items.

“I forgot about this,” Tommy grumbled, pulling something out of the box. It was a rolled up parchment, rather wide in size and yellowed in a way that revealed its age.

“What is it?” Ranboo found himself asking.

Tommy unrolled it and took a look at it for a moment, scowling at whatever was on the paper, before turning it around to reveal it to his mortal friends. It was an intricate painting, one that looked like it must’ve taken hours to complete.

The painting featured Techno and Wilbur beside each other in extremely formal stances. The two looked almost diplomatic in the sense, as they had their backs straight and chests puffed out. Behind them was Philza, who must’ve been standing on top of some type of box since he was taller than the two other gods in the painting. His wings were spread to their full length, almost looming over the others protectively, and his hands were pressed together as if praying. What really caught their attention, though, was Tommy standing just a little bit in front of Techno and Wilbur, making it so the group was in a diamond formation. The immortal had his head held high and a serious look across his face. Both Wilbur and Techno had one hand on either of his shoulders. The whole group was dressed in tunics and jewelry, as well as crowns of different plants adorning their heads.

“Woah,” Tubbo breathed out as he observed the painting, seemingly drinking in every detail of every brush stroke.

Ranboo couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment. “Did you guys have that hand painted?”

“Yep,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes. “Wilbur kept insisting I do it even though I didn’t want to. I had to stand still for hours until it was done!”

“How did you manage that?” Tubbo questioned with a laugh as he set the bottle down on the coffee table. “I’ve never seen you stand still for two minutes.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Tommy snarked as he placed the painting on the table, but there was no real bite to his words.

♔♔♔

Quackity had to admit that he was terrified of Technoblade, there was no other way to put it. He went about his day in fear of the god, as though he would show up at any second and smite Quackity for the execution stunt he tried to pull. Technoblade was much stronger than anyone had thought, immortal and all powerful, and he could strike Quackity down in a second. The whole SMP might’ve been a joke to the gods, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hold grudges from it.

“I don’t like this idea in the slightest,” BadBoyHalo told Quackity with a warning tone, but he continued to follow his friend down the Prime Path nonetheless.

“This is a great idea!” Quackity defended lightheartedly, not turning around to face the hesitant demon.

Bad sighed and rolled his eyes, but still jogged a bit to catch up and start walking beside the duck hybrid. “Where are we even going?”

Quackity shot him a smile, obviously aware that Bad was going to give into his shenanigans eventually. “To Karl’s library! I’m certain he’ll have some books there about gods.”

The two stopped as they reached the door to Karl’s house, which contained the time traveler’s library. He had an extensive collection of books on practically every subject, which meant he likely had exactly the information the duck hybrid was looking for. He knocked on the door and waited, despite knowing his fiance wouldn’t mind if he came in unannounced.

“Looks like he’s not here!” Bad piped up after they waited for a couple minutes. “It’d be rude of us to just barge in, so we should just leave and do this another day! See ya later!”

Quackity rolled his eyes and grabbed Bad by the hood, pulling him back and preventing him from walking away. “Are you forgetting that I’m engaged to him? I have a key to his house.”

Bad sighed in defeat and watched as his friend unlocked the door and walked in, reluctantly following him inside. Quackity led the way to the large library, and Bad couldn’t help but look around in awe. He’d never actually been into Karl’s library, only ever having heard about it, and he couldn’t have imagined just how expansive and beautiful it was. There were shelves of books from the floor to the ceiling and light flooded in from a skylight. It had a mysterious aura to it and it made the demon want to sit at the desk in the center and read for hours on end. Unfortunately, that wish went unfulfilled as he was pulled towards a few shelves in the back.

“Here’s where everything mythology and religion related is!” Quackity announced, releasing Bad’s wrist. “Now we just need to find the right books.”

It took a little over an hour of searching, pulling out books to see if it might have any information they needed and then putting them back, before they got somewhere.

“I found one!” Quackity exclaimed, showing it off. “It talks all about the gods and rituals surrounding them!”

Bad, who had gained the slight hope that they wouldn’t find a book with the info they needed and therefore would have to abandon the plan, sighed in defeat and allowed Quackity, clutching the book tight, to lead him out of the library.

~

“What’re you guys up to?” Sapnap asked as he approached Bad and Quackity. The two were sitting on the grass in the Holy Land and were hunched over a book.

“I had a stroke of genius,” Quackity informed his fiance with a mischievous smile.

“If by ‘stroke of genius’ you mean moment of idiocy, then I agree,” Bad muttered, making the duck hybrid slap his arm lightly.

Quackity patted the grass next to him as an invitation for his fiance to join them. “We’re gonna make an altar to one of the gods.”

“An altar?” Sapnap asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He thought it would be funny,” Bad elaborated, sounding exasperated. “I told him that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to mess around with altars when there are gods literally on this server right now, but apparently Mr. Quackity thinks it’s a good idea to mess with powerful deities!”

“Do you wanna help us?” Quackity asked Sapnap, ignoring Bad’s little rant.

Sapnap paused for a moment, thinking it over, before a smile broke out across his face. “Heck yeah!”

Bad buried his face in his hands.

~

Sapnap stepped back and observed what had been done as the first step of creating the altar. He had collected dirt and piled it so it was a few feet high, about up to his torso. He and Bad had then molded the dirt into a cylinder with a flat top, as the book had instructed them to do.

“What next?” Sapnap asked, turning around to face his fiance, who was reading through the pages.

“We need to plant flowers around it, preferably several different types.” Quackity handed the book off to Sapnap and reached into his inventory, pulling out a few poppies and daisies he had on hand. He knelt beside the dirt altar and began to plant the flowers. Bad joined him, adding cornflowers and dandelions.

Bad stood when he was finished planting and looked at the altar. He had to admit, it was actually sort of pretty. The flowers circling around the bottom gave it a pleasant aura, one he didn’t expect for the altar of the Blood God.

“‘Place three wooden bowls atop the altar, one of milk, one of honey, and one of wheat seeds,’” Sapnap read out the next step.

Quackity, already prepared, stepped forwards and placed down the three bowls. He then grabbed a milk bucket from his inventory and poured some into the first bowl. He grabbed a jar of honey and poured it into the second. Finally, he pulled out wheat seeds and piled them into the third bowl.

“What do you guys think is the deal with all these things?” Sapnap asked, making the other two turn to him. “I mean, he’s the Blood God, right? So, why would he want honey and shit?”

“Language,” Bad muttered, which Sapnap ignored.

Quackity glanced at the shrine before turning back to his fiance. “I mean, he’s also the God of Harvest and Land, so it makes sense that he’d want other things. Lands flowing with milk and honey, ya know?”

“He also probably wants things from all of the different parts of earth. We have the wooden bowls, the dirt, the flowers, the milk, and I’m pretty sure it also calls for gold, which would be ores of the earth,” Bad added on, and he couldn’t help but wonder when this whole thing had gone from a joke to them actually taking the altar seriously.

Sapnap scanned the next instruction. “Oh, yeah, it says to put a wooden bowl of gold nuggets on the altar!”

Quackity took out another bowl and placed it down, pulling gold nuggets from his inventory and filling it up. He turned back to his friends, awaiting the next instruction, but paused at the hesitation present on Sapnap’s face. He looked worried as he scanned over the page.

“The final step is to spill blood atop the gold,” he told the group with an air of cautiousness. Bad immediately looked concerned, glancing over to Quackity.

“We could just dismantle the altar,” Bad offered to the duck hybrid, this time out of worry for his friend instead of himself. “We don’t have to-”

“We’re too far in!” Quackity insisted, a lighthearted tone to his voice. “I’m going through with it!”

Before Sapnap or Bad could even argue, Quackity was producing a small blade from his inventory and placing it against his palm. He winced as it cut open his skin, but didn’t let that deter him from closing his fist above the bowl of gold and allowing his blood to flow over the precious metal. After a few moments, he drew his hand back, finally registering the pain and the blood flow.

Quackity turned back to Sapnap and Bad, both of whom had traversed over to him to make sure he was okay. He waved the two off, assuring them that it was just a superficial wound, despite the amount of blood coming out.

“So, how do we know if he’s aware of the altar?” Sapnap asked the question they were all wondering. “Does he, like, have to see it in person or-”

“What are you doing?” a voice cut him off, and the group all shouted in surprise, turning to face the newcomer.

Standing a few feet away from them, facing the group, was Technoblade. He was in his normal fanciful attire and his hair was braided back. He stared at the three, masking his surprise with looking unimpressed, one eyebrow raised.

“Technoblade,” Sapnap greeted, voice wavering with his nerves. “Good to see ya, buddy.”

“What are you doing?” Techno repeated. “You made an altar.”

The group shuffled off to the side, revealing the little altar behind them. They watched as Techno walked forwards, approaching the shrine. The god looked over it with an observant gaze, seeming to examine every item in excruciating detail. He eyed the bowls filled with various elements of the land and spared a glance at the flowers decorating the base of the dirt cylinder, even taking a short moment to raise an eyebrow at the fresh blood adorning the gold.

“Whose idea was this?” Techno asked, turning to face the three.

Bad and Sapnap both looked at Quackity, who was shrinking under the gaze of the god. Bad opened his mouth, getting ready to say that he was the one who had pulled them into this, but Techno had already deduced that the duck hybrid had been the one to put it all together. That wasn’t to mention he could connect the dots of Quackity still bleeding and the blood on the altar.

“You’re bleeding,” Techno told the hybrid, glancing at his injury. ”You should’ve just pricked your finger instead of cutting your palm— it would’ve bled less.”

He held a hand out and waited. It took a moment, but Quackity eventually got the hint and stepped forward, placing his injured hand into the god’s calloused palm. Techno raised his other hand up and placed it onto Quackity’s injury. The duck hybrid winced at the pressure placed upon the wound, but then watched in awe as his skin seemed to stitch itself back together, leaving behind only a fresh pink scar that would fade to white with time. The blood covering his hand had practically evaporated into thin air, leaving his palm clean.

“Nobody has made me an altar in quite a long time,” Techno told him, releasing his now-healed hand. “It is impressive that you got it correct considering one might think the tradition to be completely lost to time. Not to mention that you spilled your own blood over the gold, as opposed to the blood of your enemies, which those who used to make me altars were so prone to do.”

Quackity could barely process what was happening, simply staring up at the god in poorly concealed confusion.

“I appreciate the kind gesture of making an altar for me, especially one less focused on blood and much more focused on the earth,” Techno continued. “As a show of my gratitude, I present you with gifts.”

Quackity felt space being taken up in his inventory, though he was unsure of how the god was even able to put things into his inventory without handing them off to him. He was so distracted by the items being placed, he barely registered when Technoblade placed three enchanted golden apples into his hands.

“The gods will look down upon you well.” The god spared one last glance to the altar before he turned and began to walk back the way he came, disappearing into thin air only a few meters away from the group of three.

“What the fuck?” Sapnap voiced a few moments after the god had disappeared, and Bad was too shocked to bother reprimanding him. The two turned to face him and they all had similar looks of confusion written across their faces.

Quackity went to put the enchanted apples in his inventory, and decided to also take a peek at what Technoblade had gifted him as a token of his appreciation. He found a few stacks of wheat, a diamond hoe with an enchantment of Unbreaking III, and a golden clock. He placed the apples beside the three presents.

“He put gifts into my inventory,” Quackity told them, still coming out of his shock. “He healed me.”

“And to think the gods were ever thought of as merciless,” Bad muttered.

Quackity glanced over to the altar, only to find that the bowls of milk, honey, wheat seeds, and gold were all now empty. Perhaps he would’ve found that strange any other time, but he was too taken aback in that moment to even give it a second thought. Instead, he looked up at Sapnap and Bad with a smug smile as he ran a finger over his new scar.

“I told you guys this was a good idea.”

♔♔♔

The altars to the Old Gods became a permanent part of the Holy Land. The members of the server noticed, but the three altars went mostly ignored, seeing as everyone was trying their best to act as though everything was normal.

It was apparent, however, that the immortals of the server had seen what was happening, if Tommy’s knowing smile had anything to say about it. It was obvious that the gods had also taken a liking to Quackity, Sapnap, and Bad, the group that had constructed the altars in the first place. The three men seemed confused by the fact that the gods had warmed up to them and weren’t so distant, but chose not to question it too much.

It seemed that they couldn’t ignore it anymore, however, as George seemed to have come up with an idea.

♔♔♔

“I want to hold a dinner party,” George announced one night. The Crew Boys (who had made Bad their fifth member after Dream had . . . well, they tended not to talk about it) had been hanging out together at Bad’s mansion, just fooling around in the living room and talking.

“A dinner party?” Sapnap asked with a raised eyebrow. The rest of the group seemed to share his confusion, all of them having turned their attention to George.

“Well, sort of a dinner party,” the man amended. “I thought maybe we could put together an apology dinner?”

“A what dinner?” Karl questioned, voice tinged with disbelief.

“Like an ‘I’m - sorry - my - friend - manipulated - and - abused - you’ dinner party. We’d invite Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.”

The room fell silent and the mood dampened at the reminder of what had happened on the server over the past months. Since Dream’s death, George and Sapnap had taken over responsibilities as admins (with the help of Callahan) and had been attempting to ignore the fact that the previous admin had pretty much wrecked the SMP. It seemed George was still tinged with guilt, and he felt as though he needed to do something to make it up to the people who’d been hurt the most.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Bad admitted, giving George a soft smile. “I think that’d be really great.”

Quackity nodded in agreement. “They'd probably appreciate it. The teens are obviously still healing and I’m sure it would be nice for them to know that we’re here for them.”

Karl and Sapnap voiced their agreements, and it seemed that the matter was settled. The group would work out the details soon enough, and invite their guests, but for now, they just sat and enjoyed each other’s company.

♔♔♔

“You have a what?” Tommy asked, eyes wide.

Tommy had been busy moving his things out of his old dirt home in L’manburg  and to a bigger house, which had enough space for him and his godly companions.. Ranboo and Tubbo had been helping him, while also catching him up on what he’d missed during his several months in exile.

“We have a son,” Tubbo answered easily, continuing to unpack items. “We adopted him and then got married a few months ago while you were . . . in exile.”

“Married?!” Tommy shouted.

While Tubbo seemed unbothered, Ranboo was standing awkwardly and wringing his hands together. It was obvious he’d been much more nervous about breaking the news than his husband was.

“And when was I gonna learn about this?!”
Tubbo sighed, standing up from where he was kneeled beside a box. He crossed the room to stand in front of Tommy, hoping to calm his friend down a bit.
“You’ve only been back a couple of days,” Tubbo defended, but kept his tone light and understanding. “We only really got the chance to tell you now.”

“To be fair,” Ranboo piped up, drawing their attention to him, “you didn’t tell us you were immortal, so it kinda evens out.”

Tubbo’s smile grew at that, excited about how good of a defense it was. Tommy, on the other hand, only rolled his eyes and deflated a bit.

“I guess that’s fair,” Tommy grumbled. “But I’m still upset that I didn't know.”

Tubbo chuckled. “We should go to the mansion now. I’m sure Michael would love to meet his Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy paused, eyes softening a bit. “I’m his uncle?”

Tubbo nodded, grabbing Tommy’s hand as he began to lead him out of his house and in the direction of his and Ranboo’s mansion. They had offered for Tommy to live in it with them, but he had been determined to build his own house to live in with his family; he wasn’t sure Tubbo and Ranboo would want three overprotective gods living with them.

It wasn’t long until the three made it to the mansion, Ranboo opening the door for Tubbo and Tommy to walk in after him. They entered into the large foyer and Tommy couldn’t help but appreciate the beautiful house, with its large ceilings and extremely thought out decor.

“Michael!” Tubbo called out into the house. “There’s someone we want you to meet!”
It took a second, but the sound of footsteps pittering against the wood sounded from one of the hallways and suddenly there emerged a small, zombified-piglin child, around three years old from what Tommy could tell. The kid stopped short, noticing Tommy standing beside his fathers. He approached more hesitantly, sticking close to Ranboo’s legs once he was near him. Tommy crouched down to the child’s height to make himself seem less intimidating.

“This is your Uncle Tommy,” Ranboo told his son, softly nudging the piglin towards the blond.

“U’cle Ta’?” Michael questioned, shuffling forwards. His dads almost cooed at the scene, and how their son attempted to pronounce their friend’s name.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Tommy replied with a gentle smile.

Now, Tommy wasn’t the type to simply pull things from the creative inventory, even though he had been given access to it by the old gods when he had first become immortal. He had always considered it rude, in a sense, as though he was cheating the system by not doing the work himself. He had no problem doing it during challenges, or when it was an emergency, but he had done it less and less the longer he’d stayed in the Dream SMP. Still, he could make an exception.

Tommy reached into the creative inventory and pulled out a golden nugget, clutching it carefully in his hands. He extended his reach towards his nephew and offered the gold in the palm of his hand. He saw the way Michael’s eyes lit up as he saw the gift, obviously drawn in by the gleam of the metal. The small piglin looked up at the blond with a questioning look and Tommy nodded, encouraging him to take it. Michael reached forwards with tiny hands and took the gold nugget, clutching onto it tightly and holding it against his grasped hands against his chest in a way that showed he was already protective of the small present.

Despite his original worry and hesitance, Tommy decided that he liked the kid— though he was still a bit upset he hadn’t known he was an uncle.

♔♔♔

“A dinner party invitation?” Techno questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s from the Crew Boys,” Tommy elaborated, staring down at the paper invite.

The four of them had been lounging around in the living room of their shared home𑁋 Phil reading while drinking some tea, Wilbur practicing guitar, Techno messing with Tommy’s hair, and Tommy sewing𑁋 when there had been a knock at the door. Tommy had gotten up to see who it was, much to Techno’s annoyance, and was greeted only by an envelope on the doorstep. He had come back inside and opened it up, reading the contents aloud.

“I’m skeptical,” Wilbur announced, setting down his guitar. “How can we trust them? They were friends with Dream, of all people.”

“They were the ones who set up altars to us in the Holy Land, though,” Phil argued, not looking up from his book. Wilbur made a face, but said nothing in response to that.

“I think I should go,” Tommy told them, sitting back down in his previous position on the couch. “Sure, they were close with Dream, but it’s not like it’s their fault what happened.”

Techno let out a hum. “Maybe we should go with you.”

“What?! No!” Tommy shouted. “It’s just a dinner party𑁋 I’ll be fine!”

“Techno might be right, mate,” Phil said in a gentle tone. “We don’t know their intentions.”

“But-”

“Sunshine . . .” Wilbur let out quietly, “we already left you alone with someone who hurt you once. Please just let us come with you to make sure you’re safe.”

Tommy paused, and then let out a sigh. “Okay, fine.”

Wilbur smiled, moving so he could wrap an arm around Tommy. “Thank you, love.”

♔♔♔

Wilbur sensed a presence behind him and paused. He could feel the eyes burning holes into the back of his head as he just tried to peacefully take a walk, and he was quick to stop. His gut had never let him wrong and he always let instinct guide him. He quickly whipped around, coming face to face with whomever was behind him.

Standing only a few feet away was Niki, a fierce glare on her face. She was covered head-to-toe in armor, despite the server being in a peacetime where nobody bothered to armor up. She was wielding a netherite axe in one hand and holding on tight to a shield in the other. None of this bothered Wilbur, of course, considering he could take down anyone in even the highest enchantment armor in seconds. He only eyed her up and down.

“Wilbur Soot,” she greeted, voice solemn and unwavering.

“Niahchu,” he replied with an easy smile.
“You have a lot to answer for.”

Wilbur let out a laugh. “What, are you trying to deliver some type of punishment? You want to beat me in combat? Niki, you should know better than to fight against the gods.”

“You’re sick!” she spat, voice laced with venom. “You make a game out of everyone’s lives, reveal your earth shattering secret of being a god, and then just continue living here like nothing’s wrong?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Stop trying to understand the nature of the gods,” Wilbur told her, tone growing more serious. “You’ll only drive yourself mad.”

Niki ignored his words. “You hurt so many people! You stood to the side as people died! You dragged me into a war over a country you never even gave a shit about𑁋 you never believed in the cause!”

“Tommy believed in it,” Wilbur told her in lieu of an answer. “Tommy loves L’manburg and all the people in it with his entire heart𑁋 and what Tommy cares about, I will fight for.”

These words only seemed to make Niki grow more hostile, the woman holding her axe out towards Wilbur in a show of preparation to strike. “Oh, of fucking course! It’s always about Tommy because you’ve never given a shit about anybody else!”

Niki immediately regretted the words as she saw Wilbur’s eyes light up with a raging fire. Before she could blink, the axe was knocked out of her hand and there was a fully enchanted netherite sword at her neck, just barely pressing into her skin. She stared with wide eyes down at the blade before looking back up to make eye contact with Wilbur, who had a manic smile across his face.

“Do you want to speak another word about Tommy or do you just want to be quiet now?” Wilbur questioned her, blade never wavering from where he held it. “Because I guarantee my sword will find a home in your neck if you dare say another unsavory word about him.”

Niki didn’t speak, just staring at the man she once thought of as a friend in horror.

“There is no way for a mortal to understand the true nature or intentions of a god, no way for them to comprehend why gods take the actions we do. You, however, can understand that Tommy is very precious to me, and I will do anything to make sure he is safe𑁋 do not doubt that I will kill you if you try to harm him in any way.”

With that, Wilbur lowered the sword away from her neck, watching her warily back up a few feet. He grabbed the netherite axe she had dropped and examined it for a moment.

“I think I’ll give this to Techno for him to smelt down into something else,” Wilbur mused. “We don’t like netherite axes in our home, not after Dream, but the metal would be useful for something else𑁋 perhaps a nice necklace to give to Tommy.”

♔♔♔

“Ayup Jack!” Tommy called out, running over to where he spotted the man. The blond had just been out and about, looking around L’manburg and taking it all in, as he had often been doing since he came out of exile. He loved to just admire the beauty and chaos of the country that he loved, admiring everything he had missed while in Logstedshire.

Jack, who was sitting on the pier and fishing, turned back to look at Tommy and muttered something before turning his attention fully back to the water.

“Jack?” Tommy questioned, a bit more hesitantly this time, coming to a stop just a few feet away from him.

“What do you want?” Jack spat. “There’s no fucking lava pools for you to push me into around here!”

“What . . . what are you on about?” Tommy questioned, brows furrowing.

Jack shot up to his feet from his place on the pier, turning around and giving Tommy one of the harshest glares he had ever received, the man’s burning gaze making Tommy shrink into himself. Everything about the situation was unnerving, and he felt the way he did in exile when he was about to be punished for being bad, but he felt frozen to the ground, like he couldn’t run away even if he tried.

“Don’t act like you don’t remember!” Jack shouted, making Tommy flinch. “You fucking pushed me into that lava pool in the nether and I lost one of my canon lives! You never even fucking apologized!”

“I- I- I don’t remember that,” Tommy pleaded quietly. “I- I believe you! I don’t doubt it happened! I just . . . have no memory of it.”

“Oh, of course, you don’t have any memory of it!” Jack mused angrily. “I’m just not important enough to remember, apparently!”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Tommy tried his best to amend. “There’s a lot of stuff I don’t remember happening while I was in exile𑁋 I’ve lost a lot of memory of what happened during it due to . . .”

“Due to what?” Jack asked impatiently.

“Well, Techno says that the trauma messed with my brain,” Tommy explained in a voice quiet and small, “and Phil says my brain buried a lot of memories in order to protect me.”

“Exile gave you trauma?” Jack couldn’t help but ask, voice a lot softer than before.
“Yeah,” Tommy muttered. “Wilbur says Dream was physically and verbally abusive, but that feels like a dirty word.”
“Tommy, I . . . I’m so sorry, You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

Tommy waved him off, shaking his head like trying to will the memories away. “I shouldn't be dumping this on you when you’re already going through so much, Jack. I do want to say I’m sorry for pushing you into lava𑁋 nothing can excuse my actions.”

“It, uh, it’s okay, Tommy. I forgive you,” Jack replied, looking away.

The two boys just stood there for a second, neither sure of how to continue the conversation. The space between them was quiet, but the tension was not uncomfortable. There was something hopeful in the air, a promise of perhaps future reconciliation and a return of a friendship that was once so strong.

“Um, here,” Tommy said, pulling something out of his inventory and holding it out to Jack. “I think you should have this.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed as he took the object. “What is this?”

“It’s an enchanted protection amulet. It was given to me back when I was still mortal, and it helped to keep me safe. Honestly, it feels like you need it a whole lot more than I do, so please take it.”

Jack gave a tentative smile and slipped the necklace over his head, letting the amulet rest against his chest. He could feel enchantments slipping into place around him, a safety he hadn’t felt in a long time overtaking him. 

Cautiously, Jack took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Tommy, who returned the embrace. The two boys stood there for a second, just basking in the comfort of a return to some form of normalcy, of a former friendship being rekindled once more. Perhaps they could continue to grow closer, and be just as much friends as they once were.

♔♔♔

“Did you hear someone new is joining the server?” Tubbo asked as he walked into Tommy’s home, not even bothering to knock. Tommy, who was sitting on the couch and sewing a patch onto Wilbur’s trench coat, looked up as his friend sat down beside him.

“Nope!” Tommy answered cheerily. “Do we have any clue who it is?”

Tubbo shrugged. “Some dude named ‘Foolish.’ In the picture Sapnap showed me, he looked like a shark-hybrid mixed with a totem.”

Tommy froze, processing the words for a second. “You said his name is Foolish?”

Tubbo nodded, giving Tommy a weird look. Tommy only sighed, putting his sewing needle down and placing his head in his hands.

“Just what we need on this server,” Tommy mused with a sarcastic drawl, “another god.”

“Foolish is what?!”

Tommy sighed. “He’s the totem god. I met him a long time ago when I was still mortal, because Wilbur wanted me to have totems on hand in case I was in danger and near death.”

“Great, another fucking god,” Tubbo muttered, looking up to the ceiling as though he were praying, but Tommy knew he was probably internally cursing out the gods.

♔♔♔

“I never was very good at understanding mortals,” Wilbur admitted.

It had been silent for a good while, before Wilbur broke the quiet. He and Fundy had been sat together, just staring at each other, unsure of what to say. What is there to say to your son who you abandoned because you didn’t know how to raise him past his childhood years? What is there to say the godly father you didn’t even know was a deity? 

“You seem to understand Tommy just fine,” Fundy spat, bitterness laced into his tone. He didn’t truly blame Tommy for Wilbur’s actions, but he couldn't help but be a bit jealous of the blond for all the attention he received from the god.

“Tommy is . . . different,” Wilbur replied, uncertain of how else he could phrase it. “Tommy was never quite human, always taking interest in the pleasure and pain of his fellow mortal from an outside perspective— I understand his nature, his beliefs, his feelings. But you, my little champion, you were also so painfully human, so much like your mother.”

“I’m . . . like my mother?” Fundy asked, something sorrowful but also hopeful in his eyes.

Wilbur took the fox hybrid’s hand, holding it between his own. “You are so much like her, you are the spitting image of her and her mortality.”

Perhaps this was not what Fundy needed to head, but it was a comfort nonetheless, and he knew it was the closest his godly father could come to being emotionally connected to him.

♔♔♔

Bad couldn’t help the stress that was coursing through his body as he watched his friends finish setting the table for the apology dinner party. It was not the dinner party itself that was stressing him out— no, it was some unexpected guests that would be arriving soon that freaked him out.

“Could someone explain to me again why we are allowing Wilbur, Techno, and Phil to come?” George asked, voicing Bad’s thoughts without even knowing it.

“Because they feel bad letting Tommy go anywhere alone without them after they left him in exile with Dream,” Quackity explained for what felt like the hundredth time.

Bad sighed. “Knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary to have them here.”

“Well, Tommy is a part of this whole apology thing, so we better suck it up,” George scolded them, and the rest of the group voiced their reluctant agreement.

Before another word could be exchanged, there came a knock at the door. Sapnap rushed to go get it, taking a deep breath before opening the door to reveal Tubbo and Ranboo, who had arrived together.

“Hey, guys,” Sapnap greeted, stepping out of the way and opening the door wider to allow the two two enter.

Ranboo and Tubbo walked in, looking around as the door closed behind them. Ranboo passed the tupperware container he was carrying over to Sapnap, who looked at it in confusion.

“It’s a hosting gift,” Ranboo explained.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Karl said, drawing the two teen’s attention over to him. 

Tubbo gave an exasperated glance at Ranboo. “That’s what I said, but someone refused to listen.”

“I didn’t wanna come over empty handed!” Ranboo exclaimed. “That would’ve been rude!”

Before more bickering could occur, another knock sounded at the door. Sapnap opened it once more, to reveal Tommy, Techno, Wilbur, and Phil all standing on the front stoop. Sapnap opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Wilbur nudging Techno.

“I told you that nobody wears togas to dinner parties anymore! See, I was right to tell you to just put on a button down and jeans!” Wilbur exclaimed, a wide, victorious smile on his face.

“Well, excuse me for assuming laws of formality were still in place— it’s not like we’ve been to a dinner party in the past few centuries!” Techno shot back.

Tommy gave the two a look telling them to stop fighting and then gave Sapnap an apologetic glance. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Uh . . . no problem,” Sapnap replied, a little put off by the argument. Nonetheless, he stepped out of the way to let the four in.

“Boss man!” Tubbo exclaimed, rushing forward to encompass Tommy in a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Good to see you too, Tubster!” Tommy replied, embracing his friend in return before pulling back. “Sorry it’s been so long, someone has been in a possessive mood recently.”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe” Philza defended himself, “and home with us is the safest place to be!”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but the fondness in them was unmistakable. It was all silent for a few moments as everyone took the atmosphere in, but eventually Quackity cleared his throat.

“Shall we sit down?”

Everyone voiced their agreement and the Crew Boys let the five guests over to the dining room table, which was set as according to custom. Techno looked at it with an air of appreciation, enjoying the fine china and proper place setting.

“So,” George started off once everyone was seated, “we wanted to hold this dinner as a sort of apology. While we weren’t aware of everything Dream was doing, we all knew bits and pieces of what was going on and none of us attempted to stop him. It was a mistake on our part and we’re all sincerely sorry.”

“It’s water under the bridge,” Ranboo reassured.

Tubbo nodded in agreement. “It's not like you guys were the ones pulling all that shit, so it’s really not your fault.”

“Besides,” Tommy added on, “the green bitch is dead now— he can’t hurt us anymore.”

“Dead a little too quickly, might I add,” Wilbur mumbled.

“I can always let him respawn, if you fancy a slower death for him,” Phil offered, a dangerous smile on his face. “Perhaps you could bring back your challenges one last time just for this occasion.”

“The challenges would be too merciful,” Techno commented.

Tommy gave the three a look. “What could be less merciful than the challenges?! Do you not remember the terraforming one?!”

Wilbur couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “The terraforming was plenty merciful— they got free range over a whole moon . . . before I destroyed it.”

“We locked someone in a bedrock box,” Tommy replied with a deadpan look.

“Yeah, and it was my guy!” Phil exclaimed. “You locked the mortal I picked in a box with a bunch of bats!”

“He got out with a trap door anyways,” Techno shot back. “Plus, this was centuries ago, before Tommy was even immortal!”

Phil huffed, looking unsatisfied with that argument, but didn’t argue back. The three gods and the immortal turned back to the mortals at the other end of the table, only to find that they were all staring at them with varying degrees of shock and horror.

“What?” Tommy questioned, unfazed.

“You locked someone in a bedrock box with bats?” Bad questioned, his voice conveying his terror.

“Yeah, like a while back?” Phil replied. “We don’t do that stuff anymore, it's been a while since Wil hosted a challenge.”

And this, this was the one thing that would never change. No matter how much the mortals on the server got desensitized to having the gods there, they would never quite get used to the implications of once merciless deities walking among them. They would never lose their mercy nor stop being slightly terrified of the stories of old, and the tales that the gods told— but it was the way things were on the server, and none of them would change it for the world.

“So,” Karl broke the awkward silence, “dinner?”