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The entire day. For the entire day they had been speculating, theorizing, asking themselves who the traitor could possibly be.
And nothing could possibly have prepared them for this.
The atmosphere had already been off when Tubbo and the others had met in Pogtopia this morning. There had been both excitement and fear in the air, people’s voices bouncing off the stone walls a little bit too high, a little bit too nervous. No one had dared to look Wilbur in the eyes. They were scared of what they would see in them.
Tubbo had done his best to stay close to Quackity, to remind himself that even when everything was falling apart around him, at least he still had someone he knew he could trust.
He had brushed off the tiny voice in his head that kept whispering how that someone should be Tommy.
He couldn’t understand what had happened between them. How had things ended up like this? One moment they were inseparable, always fighting side by side, practically twins - and one heartbeat later they were separated by a distance in more ways than one. Tommy had been spending too much time with Wilbur in this narrow ravine, surrounded by cold stone and colder madness, and under Schlatt’s rule Tubbo had been focusing on just surviving.
And it wasn’t even just that. Quackity had something Tommy couldn’t compete with, and that something was the weight of the experiences they shared. He didn’t only understand, he knew . He had been in the Schlatt Administration, serving the president just like Tubbo, he had seen this all unfold in front of his eyes. No amount of friendship and caring couldn’t erase the fact that Tommy hadn’t been there when Quackity had - Tommy hadn’t heard the sharp commands and angry yelling, hadn’t felt the lump of fear in his stomach every time Schlatt wanted to talk, hadn’t seen the countless empty bottles that always meant that the day would be even worse than usual.
Quackity had lived through it all with Tubbo, and more; he had been even closer to the center of the chaotic government. He had seen a man he had once believed in crumbling into a bitter, weak shell of his former self, driven forward only by alcohol and the little remains of power he still had, and somehow he had managed to keep it all together and not scatter into insanity like Wilbur had.
Tubbo hated to admit it, but Quackity could understand him in ways Tommy never could.
And Fundy, Tubbo sometimes had to remind himself - Fundy had been there too, he had lived through it as well. Tubbo still wasn’t sure what to think about Wilbur’s son. First he seemed to be Schlatt’s most loyal minion, and then all of the sudden he had been in Pogtopia with a book full of stolen information and a promise to fight by his father’s side. Had he really been on their side all along? Or was this just a tactical move, a rat leaving the sinking ship?
Whichever it was, Tubbo didn’t trust him. Not for a second. He might have been naive and trusting before all of this happened, but he was well past that now. Two wars, a power-hungry president and a man with eyes that seemed to burn red with flames had taken care of that.
He also didn’t trust Technoblade, who seemed far too comfortable with Wilbur’s explosive plan, or Eret, who had betrayed them in the past, or Bad, who seemed to only care about the future of his own, freshly formed nation, or Bad’s friends Ant and Sam either, for that matter. Hell, he even found it hard to trust Niki at this point. The only person he knew he could trust was Quackity, who had lived through the nightmare with him and who he knew wanted to get rid of Schlatt just as much as he did.
So he clinged onto Quackity, because that’s what he always did. That was his way of surviving the world when it was too big and scary for him to face alone, he needed someone else, someone who would stand in front of him - or at the very least, next to him - and say: don’t worry. We’ll handle this together. You don’t have to do it alone.
You’re just a yes-man.
Those words had rung in Tubbo’s ears as their little army had marched its way towards the place where the giant, majestic walls had stood mere months ago, and all Tubbo could think about was the disappointment he could hear in Wilbur’s voice.
Was it really true? Was he really just a yes-man, a sidekick, a meek follower who doesn’t know how to be his own person without someone to follow? First Tommy, then Wilbur, now Quackity. He was always walking behind someone. Never the one in the spotlight.
Then, of course, the actual battle had started and Tubbo had been too busy holding onto his dear life to think about Wilbur’s words. This at least was something he could do, something he was good at. Slash, block, shoot. Do your best to keep your blood inside your body. And everything was going so well, he was fighting side by side with Tommy again and it was as if they were a single entity, their attacks so perfectly in sync. It reminded him of earlier, simpler times, their fight for the discs.
Tommy’s discs.
And there it was again, the same creeping suspicion that had been bothering him all the way from Pogtopia. He had followed Tommy into Tommy’s war and later he had followed Wilbur into Wilbur’s war and before he knew it, he was a spy in a suit that he didn’t want to wear, and he was getting killed because of plans made by other people.
Yes-man. Sidekick. Follower.
Gods, had nothing he had ever done in these wars been for himself?
And he had continued to follow Tommy and Wilbur as they pushed their way further into Manberg and he had celebrated with them as they took Eret’s tower from the opposing side, because what else could he have done? Even if this hadn’t been his war, his fight, now it definitely was. He was in way too deep to start questioning his motives now. And he had to admit it did feel good to see his arrows sink into their targets, to see his enemies fall over the railing and fall to their deaths. He was good at this. He was a good soldier. Maybe it didn’t matter if he only ever fought in other people’s wars, as long as he got to do what he was meant to do.
They had continued pushing the Manbergians further back, taking the battle into the area still decorated with joyful colors from the festival, and it had given Tubbo’s movements a new kind of fury. It was a reminder of what things had been like under Schlatt’s rule, a reminder of what he did to those who dared to oppose him. It had to end here and now. Tubbo had had first row seats to witness every single horrible thing Schlatt had done to tear their homeland apart, and he had swore he wouldn’t rest until he was stripped of his power for good.
But not even all the rage inside Tubbo could keep him from feeling the tiniest crumb of pity towards the man they had found in the van. Jschlatt had been sitting on the floor, empty bottles all around him, his eyes hazy and unfocused and the smell of alcohol thick in the air. He had looked like he could barely walk without help.
Was this really the man who had once ruled the country with an iron fist and terrorized everyone around him? All Tubbo could see was an old, broken man who had lost his every ally, driven them away one by one until he was completely alone. First he had executed Tubbo, then Fundy had left him, then Quackity, and in the end, even Dream. How fitting that only moments later he died from a heart attack, his own body betraying him like everything and everyone else already had. A miserable end for a miserable man.
And then - in one dizzying, breathtaking moment, like a lightning from a clear sky - everything Tubbo had ever wanted had suddenly been within his reach.
Thinking back to those unreal moments of cheerful victory and unrestrained happiness, he could never remember the details. Wilbur had called him to the podium and his feet had been a little bit shaky, but for the first time he was standing on this podium without paralyzing fear freezing him in place. Two times he had stood here before, Schlatt and Quackity towering on his sides, not a single ally in sight, not knowing what was going to happen to him.
The third time was the first time he was happy to be here. He looked down at the people who had gathered at the feet of the podium, he looked at Tommy and Wilbur and Quackity, and the world was more bright and beautiful than it had ever been before.
The next moments had passed in a blur of cheering and celebrating and people patting him on the back and letting him bask in the warmth of being the center of attention for once. Not a yes-man, not a sidekick, not a follower - a president, an actual president, like Wilbur had been. His mind was already bubbling with ideas. He would fix everything Schlatt had ruined, he would bring this place back to its former glory, he would make everyone proud and show them what he’s capable of. He couldn’t wait to get started.
How did it all go from the happiest moment of his life to… this?
Technoblade’s crossbow was pointing at him, the rocket aimed straight between his eyes. All the celebrating voices had fallen silent, everyone was looking at the pig and the boy.
Tubbo slowly raised his hands as a sign of surrender. He should have expected this, he should have seen this coming, how could he have been so stupid - of course Techno wouldn’t accept him as a president, Techno had been supporting Wilbur’s plan from day one. All he ever talked about was destroying the government.
Tubbo had been wrong. He was still the same naive kid who had followed Wilbur into a revolution against a tyrannical ruler, without even knowing what the word “tyrannical” meant. He hadn’t learned anything.
He was not a president. He was just a stupid kid.
“Don’t you see what’s happening here?” Techno’s voice thundered around the glade, threatening but also desperate, the unsaid words begging people to listen to him. “Don’t you see history repeating itself?”
Tubbo couldn’t take his eyes off the rocket aimed at his head. He could almost see the yellow walls around him again. He was almost sure he would see Schlatt standing next to him if he turned his head just a little bit.
Time had stopped. A frozen moment of anticipation, trapped inside a fragile shell, waiting for the next breath, the next heartbeat, for someone to make their move.
Until Dream’s voice made a crack in the silence.
“You know who was the traitor?” he asked, his tone full of confidence of someone who knows he has somehow, against all the odds, managed to come out on top again. The mask seemed to glow golden in the sunlight, the shadow behind him stretching across the grass, far taller than the man himself stood. “The traitor was Wilbur.”
A moment of silence, a moment of everyone trying to process the words. Dream waited patiently for the truth to sink into everyone’s heads. Tubbo still didn’t dare to take his eyes off Techno’s weapon, but he could see people glancing around and then realizing they couldn’t see the familiar figure in his too-big trench coat in the crowd.
“Where is Wilbur?” someone asked.
And then the ground under their feet exploded into a million tiny shards.
Tubbo could barely see anything around him. Smoke and rubble from the buildings covered everything and the explosions that roared around them were deafening. The only thing that managed to make its way into his consciousness through the chaos and destruction was Dream’s laughter, thundering in his ears almost as loud as the explosions. “YES!”
Tubbo could feel the panic raising in his chest. His eyes were jumping from one person to another, looking for Technoblade, looking for Quackity, looking for -
Someone grabbed his arm and yanked him into the smoke, yelling something he couldn’t quite hear through the noises of danger and death. The voice was familiar, even in this state, his head dizzy and his ears ringing. He tried harder, tried to focus on the words, until his ears started to cooperate again. “Tubbo, stick with me, stay close!”
It was Tommy, and Tubbo didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. He followed Tommy blindly into the cover of the thick smoke, trying not to care about the way it burned in his lungs as he drew in one breath after another, his limbs heavy and lungs screaming for fresh air, only one thought in his head: get away from Technoblade.
They held onto each other as the explosions kept coming one after another, tearing their world apart around them, leaving nothing but destruction and ruin. Tubbo squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Tommy like he was an anchor that kept him safe in the chaos, like he could disappear into the smoke if Tubbo let go of him for even a second. Tommy was saying something, he couldn’t hear what it was, but he held onto the noise just so he could hear something else than his home being torn apart like a sandcastle in a rainstorm.
And when the explosions finally stopped, and when the smoke finally allowed itself to be blown away by the gentle breeze, the view that unfolded in front of their eyes put both of them to silence.
A crater, where their homes once stood. Ruin and wreckage, where a prosperous country once thrived. And across the crater, in a small cave carved onto the stone wall that the explosions had ripped open, stood Phil with a sword in his hand, Wilbur’s corpse laying on his feet.
Tubbo could see Tommy’s whole being sink, he could hear his breath hitching in his throat. Tommy was about to take a step towards them, but Tubbo grabbed his arm and shook his head at him. It was best that they wouldn’t do anything before they found out what had happened.
Why was Phil here? And why was Wilbur dead? He had just been there, smiling in his dark brown coat, praising Tubbo and calling him a good kid, a good spy -
“I told you, Tommy.”
Dream’s voice was way too smug, way too full of triumph, and before Tubbo could stop it, Tommy had already turned towards him and put his hand on his sword. His fingers were trembling against the metal. Tubbo couldn’t tell if it was from anger, sadness or fear.
Tubbo was about to tell Tommy to stop, to not run head first into a battle he would have no chance of winning, that Dream wasn’t worth throwing away what little they had left, but neither Tommy nor Dream could draw their swords before someone else’s voice stopped them.
“You stay right over there and listen to me!”
Technoblade was holding a black skull, something that looked familiar to everyone in the crowd, and Tubbo could feel his heart freeze in his chest. Withers. Technoblade had withers. Terrifying monsters, creatures that kill everything they touch and curse their victims with slow decay that makes their body rot away. Every single person on the face of Earth was terrified of withers, and Technoblade had not just one but two of them.
Not even Dream looked as happy anymore as he had a minute ago. This probably hadn’t been a part of his plan.
Tubbo saw a flash of green in the corner of his eye, and then Phil was there, spreading his wings in a protective way, as if he was trying to stretch them wide enough to shield everyone with them. They looked badly damaged, they were full of burn marks and the left one was bent in an unnatural way that made Tubbo wince as he looked at it, but Phil didn’t seem to even notice. “Run away from Techno, right now,” he yelled with a nervous, hurried voice. “Get away from here!”
A few people did as he said, but most stood where they had been standing, unable to take their eyes off the scene, hypnotized by the symbol of power and danger Techno was holding on his palm.
Tubo wanted to scream, to jump in front of Tommy, to attack Techno, to do something, anything, but he was frozen in place just like everyone else.
“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?”
No. No. Oh gods, please don’t let this be happening right now.
“Then die like one.”
And for the second time in the span of a few minutes, Tubbo’s world shattered like glass.
In the end, there was nothing they could do to stop Techno. He attacked with his two withers and they started sowing chaos and destruction everywhere around them. The remaining Pogtopians did their best to protect what was left of their land, but by the time the withers were finally slayed, the landscape looked dreary. There was nothing left of the place that had once been their home.
Wilbur had torn the ground open with his TNT, Techno had unleashed monsters on them and Dream had achieved what had been his goal this entire time. The utter and complete destruction of the land he despised.
But as the first rays of the morning sun slowly fell on the ruins and covered everything in warm, golden light, Tubbo held his head up high.
Dream thought he had won. Techno thought he had destroyed them. But they were wrong, they were both wrong, and Tubbo was going to prove it to everyone. He wouldn’t let them push him down without a fight. He would get back up and carry the title he had been given with pride and protect the land that had made him its ruler.
Tubbo was still alive, he was still the president, and he wouldn’t just step down and accept defeat. L’Manberg wasn’t gone, it still had a group of people to fight for it, and that was all that mattered. Tommy was going to follow Tubbo, and so were Fundy, Quackity, Jack, Niki and Phil. And the L’Mantree still stood tall, reaching its branches over the obsidian wall that had managed to protect it from the destruction.
The seven of them stood united on the edge of the crater and watched the sun rise over the destroyed nation, and right then and there Tubbo made a promise to himself. He would become the president L’Manberg deserved, the president it should have had from the start - like Wilbur had been, back when he had still believed in his own creation.
Tubbo would be what this nation needed to thrive again. L’Manberg had survived Dream, it had survived Schlatt and it would survive Wilbur and Technoblade. Tubbo was going to make it into what it should have always been. A place of unity. Of togetherness. Of strength.
“Tubbo,” Tommy said, catching his attention and pulling him from his thoughts. Despite everything, his voice was warm and hopeful, and a bridge across the gap that had been torn between them was already beginning to form. “President Tubbo.”
“It has a nice ring to it,” Tubbo replied with a tentative smile.
He had a lot of work to do.