Chapter Text
The world was ending.
At least it seemed it was.
Tommy Innes, otherwise known as Tommy Innit, was alone during possibly the most dangerous event to ever take place on the Essempi.
The apocalypse.
It all started when the Egg came around, it began infecting those who spent time with it, and the Egg did it’s part, spreading it’s vines across the Essempi.
But the Essempi always prevailed when it came to threats, similar to Wilbur, and Dream, the Egg was defeated, locked away far away from the Essempi lands.
Not in the prison though.
Apparently, the Egg could destroy obsidian, which means it could easily destroy the prison, giving it an easy escape, and anyone else who was locked inside.
And peace fell.
But, behind the scenes, the Egg continued it’s work, taking a different approach.
The person at fault for this was Sam, the person who never actually bothered to check in on the Egg, due to his fear of it after being locked with it for some time.
So he stayed away.
The Egg began infecting mobs, creating them into mutant monsters that were harder to kill, and most definitely stronger.
The mobs were often zombies, and were smarter than the normal zombie, destroying everything in its path.
Buildings were being broken and people were fleeing.
But Tommy Innes was not scared.
He never left.
Mainly because everyone left without him.
He remembers the night like it’s yesterday, when he killed the first zombie, and was heavily injured.
He ran, and ran to Snowchester, looking for Tubbo and Ranboo, to see if they were alright and what plans they had.
He arrived at a destroyed Snowchester that had been ransacked and tore through.
He assumed they had left for better grounds.
He slowly realized others had done the same, such as his own family, who had no longer cared to come and bring him with.
He was a nuisance after all.
So he stayed.
He wasn’t one hundred percent alone though.
There was one person who had to stay back, and although he still hated this person, he never really had a choice whether they could enjoy each other's presence anymore, with the constant fear of mutants lurking around the area that housed them.
It was Sam.
Sam, the warden, had taken the oath, and could never leave the prison’s side until the prisoner was released or dead.
So he stayed with Sam in the offices of the prison, often chatting about old times, or helping each other defend off the mutants.
And then Sam died.
Sam had died twice to the zombies already, from some careless mishap he had done in the first few nights.
It was a huge horde.
Tommy was doing the best he could but he was cornered.
He had to use his sticks of TNT just to get rid of the many mutants.
Sam had not been as lucky, who was cornered into a lodge of the prison wall.
Once Tommy had killed the rest of the mutants he saw Sam, and rushed him to the medbay.
Tommy did his best with his medical knowledge, trying to stop the damage from further corrupting his immune system, which would inevitably fail.
“T’mmy.. I’m s’rry” Sam had slurred.
He pulled a book out of his pocket, labelled Warden’s Key.
“Do a better job than me, Warden.” Sam continued, trying to force a smile onto his face, before the eyes of the creeper hybrid rolled to the back of his head.
“No, nonono Sam, this isn’t funny Sam please.” Tommy begged, holding the book close.
That’s when he realized things were serious.
Tommy had begun a new routine.
Wake up, eat, do his rounds of the prison, feed the prisoner, sleep.
It was his constant.
He often took breaks, but when he did he broke down, unable to contain himself.
He was spiraling, and he had realized it.
Nothing could really keep him sane at this point, it was hard to believe anyone could be sane at this point.
So he created coping mechanisms.
His memory floated back to Pogtopia, where his brother coped with smoking.
He remembered taking away his pack of cigarettes, and was endlessly beat for it.
He still had the pack somewhere, but he didn’t have an infinite amount of them.
He tried it, and instantly got addicted.
Taking smoking breaks every 4 days, so he was still in good condition to fight any mutants off.
There were few accidents with mutants, but the main one was his leg, where he had lost it in a fight.
The zombie had clawed it straight off, and it wasn’t pleasant to clean.
He hobbled back inside, and got to work.
Eventually he patched it up.
It wasn’t his best job, but it was good enough to the point where he could make a prosthetic to replace the missing leg.
He decided to make it out of netherite. The strongest material possible, and the most customizable.
It was strong, sturdy and well hidden.
As the warden of the prison, he eventually grew out of his iconic shirt and jeans.
He now had dark black jeans, that were comfortable, and easy to move around in for fights.
He had a black undershirt, with a leather jacket over top.
Fingerless gloves covered his scarred hands, palms red from gripping his Axe.
The Axe of Peace is used quite often nowadays.
After getting clawed in the eye, he had a huge scar that reached from his chin past his eyebrow and over his eye.
His eye had gone completely white, and evidently, Tommy hated the look of it.
So he covered it with a three quarter mask that only showed the left side of his face, and his one dull grey eye.
He had a voice changer implemented in his mask, just in case he came across stragglers searching for safety, he didn’t want them to know of the Warden’s age.
It’s not like he sounded like a dead guy already, his voice had dropped incredibly from the pain and recklessness he now held when facing mutants.
He remained as tall as 6 '3, and really looked like a threat when he actually started putting muscle on.
He hoarded the good food to himself, leaving Dream with his same potatoes.
Speaking of Dream, it seemed he had completely given up on taking control of the world, after he heard of the apocalypse, he gave tips to survive, and helped Tommy train.
They actually had become decent friends.
Tommy was still reluctant to trust him.
They often chatted about different things, they reminisced, and grieved Sam’s death, as the three were always playing games in Dream’s cell to pass time.
Tommy was really becoming a husk of his former self, and he only truly realized that when the day came where a group of people were looking for refuge.
_________
Sapnap was a protective man.
Ever since the community house blew up, he protected what he called home more strictly, and fought to keep his friends safe, because all in all, they were also his home .
When the mutants came, he had managed to keep Kinoko safe with George’s assistance.
Karl wasn’t the best at fighting, but he pitched in here and there, and kept resources at a high.
The routine was just starting to get comfortable, just as the entire city came crashing down.
During one of Sapnap’s rests, George had gotten overwhelmed with zombies, and had woken him up informing him that they all needed to leave or they were going to die.
They rapidly got all of their things together, and dipped.
They were unsure where to go at this point, reluctant to ask any questions.
The first thing they did was check Las Nevadas, Quackity’s homeland.
When they arrived, the beautiful nation that had so much effort put into, was crumbling at the seams.
They swiftly begun looting and looking for survivors, coming upon an injured Quackity and Purpled, and formed a group called the Resistance. It was a group that resisted any wants or needs of the mutants, and the Egg.
They alerted Technoblade, the leader of the Antarctic of the groups formation, and Technoblade instantly took a disliking to them, just at the group of people who were involved with the Resistance, he frowned.
He wanted nothing to do with them.
He feared the territory and resources he owned were going to be threatened by Quackity and others.
So instead of forming a truce, Technoblade banished them from going near the campground.
Well what were they supposed to do, listen?
They needed things, and fast.
So they stole, and evidently Technoblade was enraged.
He sent out Foolish and Fundy, two people who had limped their way into the Antarctic hands.
They never really came close.
Whilst escaping they had re-entered Essempi grounds.
The place was ransacked to say the least.
So they did what any desperate losers would do, and looted.
It was successful to say the least, plenty of resources were still available.
What they didn’t think they’d find was activity.
They had come across Tommy’s house to fins it blown to pieces, with bits of gunpowder still laying around.
It was trashed, and blood could be seen dried up in the somewhat remains of flooring.
It was worrying, but if Tommy was still here, maybe they could loot him, or help him.
They were indecisive at this point.
Sam was supposed to still be at the prison, so maybe he would help them out.
They traveled over, and the prison was thankfully still intact.
What they did find however was a bit worrying.
They had come across some person, propped up against the prison wall, one leg leaning on the wall as support, with a cigarette.
The resistance drew their weapons instantly.
_________
Tommy saw them from a mile away.
He didn’t bother to stop his smoking session, he didn’t care at this point.
He was forced to end the session, unfortunately when they drew their weapons.
“State your business at Pandora’s Vault.” he drawled. This was his first time using the voice changer on someone other than Dream, so they were awfully surprised at the effects given that made him sound glitched and corrupted.
“We seek refuge, If you can provide it of course.” Quackity stated. The group was surprised by the sudden leader role taken by Quackity, it was often Sapnap who did the talking.
“On whose behalf?” Tommy had responded, bored as ever.
He really just wanted to get back into smoking.
“The Resistance, led by Sapnap. We also wish to speak to Sam.” Quackity spat, seemingly growing frustrated at the man he was yet to recognize.
“I regret to inform you that Sam perished about 3 months ago, losing his last canon life. He passed the role of Warden onto me, so watch your mouth Alex.” the Warden responded.
The group grew wide eyed.
First of all, Sam was dead, which hit like a truck.
The kind Warden and builder, who was always willing to take someone in and give them his mass amounts of steak, was dead.
Dead.
Second of all this random guy was the Warden.
Why did Sam trust this guy? Had they known each other long?
And did he say Alex? How had he known Quackity’s real name?
“How do you know my name?” he fused, spitting venom out of his mouth like anger.
“Don’t tell me I’ve changed this much. Surely you recognize me!” the Warden continued.
“No! We don’t!” Sapnap butted in, clearly wanting the conversation to end this very second.
“Well then. Come on inside the prison, and I'll re introduce myself to you.” Tommy smiled underneath his mask.
He was surprised they hadn’t recognized him. It had only been a year, hadn’t it? Maybe he had time wrong.
He lead the Resistance inside, and led them to his and Sam’s meeting room, pulling a few extra seats out from the storage closet at the back.
He motioned for them to sit down, and relax.
He turned around and tore his mask off, wincing at the fresh air hitting his scar.
He let his hood fall down, gripping his trident tightly and turned around to the group.
“Welcome to Pandora’s Vault. I am the Warden, Tommy Innes, how can I assist you today?” he smirked.
The group turned into shocked expressions, surprised that the ki had even lasted this long.
“Holy shit!” Quackity exclaimed, his hand gripped George’s wrist tightly.
He was happy to see the kid had lived, he was good friends with him after all.
Purpled smiled, seeing his old friend alive was nice, maybe he wouldn’t be too alone in the group of the resistance after all.
Karl and George simply sat there, wondering how the brash and loud kid had changed to a quiet and cold version of himself, running the very prison he once tried to break into.
“Yeah, I know, a bit off putting, but it’s been my job for three months, and It’s been lonely I guess, but I took the oath, nothing is letting my prisoner out, unless dead or released.” Tommy snickered.
“So you’ve been protecting this place since Sam died?” George asked quietly.
Tommy sighed. He knew questions were coming, why was he acting so shocked?
“Yeah. We’ve had a few mishaps, got this scar”-he pointed to the eye “and lost me self a leg, but that’s fixed, nic and toughened up with netherite” Tommy chuckled.
It had been a while since he spoke to someone other than Dream.
The group frowned and glanced to his leg, where they were now realizing the dark material that was shaped in a leg, that was supporting his weight.
“What about Dream?” Karl asks, and the room falls dead silent.
Tommy glances up from where his eyes were previously held, which was straight down.
To the group's surprise, he smiles.
“He’s been alright. He’s changed for the better, you wanna see him?”
“What..?”