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you are the ghost of wilbur soot. you, yourself, are not wilbur. you feel that’s an important distinction to make.
sometimes people slip up, call you ‘wilbur’, and you correct them cheerfully, politely, every time.
today tommy has gathered you with tubbo and ranboo to… you’re not quite sure, exactly. there’s a plan in the works, but it’s all fuzzy in your head every time you try to recall.
fuzzy… just like friend! you give him some pets as tommy goes over the details.
you have to go through water with tommy to get to the prison. swimming… you’re not very fond of water anymore. the way it seeps into- through you is thoroughly unpleasant. tommy urges you to think of blue as you go, but the water has you irritably reminding him you like other colors as well.
you don’t like that feeling, but the thought of a nice green combined with finally climbing out of the water softens it around the edges until it subsides into nothingness.
friend won’t follow you through the portal, so you leave him in the nether and hope for the best.
(in hindsight, this is where everything started to go wrong.)
you are the ghost of wilbur soot, and you are very, very scared.
dream is behind you, silently holding a book after making his demands. tommy and sam are shouting at each other across the lava, and they are too far away for you to understand anything but their anger. you don’t understand anything but the present and immediate terror of revival.
tommy, he knows this. tommy promised you he wouldn't let them revive wilbur. you trust tommy. he turns away from sam, tries to help you calm down. he counts with you, and it’s supposed to help, you know it is. tommy wouldn’t do it on purpose, but the counting flashes a memory of another time, another place, except it was you counting.
not you.
wilbur.
dream was there, and tommy, and as you- he-
the countdown reaches its end, in the past and the present, and dream raises- raised his arm.
it all happens so fast after that. so quickly and so slowly.
you begin to scream. or sob. you’re not sure. there is so much you’re unsure of.
tommy demands sam go get you, reassures you he won’t let wilbur be brought back, defends himself from the accusations sam hurls at him.
he promised you it would just be a quick thing, no problem. something went wrong. you don’t understand what went wrong.
you beg tommy through tears that phase through your face. for what, you don’t even know anymore, but he’s your last hope.
tommy’s face, lit from below, is the last thing you see as the lava descends.
your name is wilbur soot.
you are watching the sun rise over l’manburg. your l’manburg.
and for the first time in thirteen years, you smile.