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He was standing in front of a throne. Who was he, again?
Wilbur, I’m Wilbur, he thinks. These dreams keep repeating and he can’t escape them but he refuses to forget who he is. There is a creeping doubt that fogs his brain, assuring him that one day he will.
Dream-him looks up to watch the ethereal being on the throne. It considers him carefully, calculating. It looks angry. And then it speaks.
“XD.” (Is that his name?) “You know why you are here.” (He really doesn’t, but he feels himself nod.)
The being rises and approaches him. He wants to step back.
“How many times have I told you to leave the mortals alone?” The voice shakes with irritation. “How many times have I told you to not meddle with their affairs?”
Wilbur feels XD (Himself?) bristle. “Prime, I’ve told you that it’s necessary to understand them. How will we know how best to… take care of them if we don’t know how they work?” A sharp edge lines his voice. “I’m never revealing myself to them, they never know what’s happening, so what’s the issue ?” His (Not his.) shifts into a screech. “I’m just experimenting with them! What’s wrong with a science project once in a while?”
There’s so much to process from these words. Wilbur’s dreams have never been like this before. So… real. Immersive.
The being is quiet. The silence stretches and stretches until phantom pains ache Wilbur’s legs from standing.
“You don’t seem to understand my warnings, XD.” There's a soft laugh that sounds throughout the room, wrapping Wilbur in a dark promise. “Stopping wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order . You know what happens to those who disobey me, little one.”
For the first time, there’s an inkling of fear that dips down Wilbur’s spine.
The assumed face of the being splits open from the center, cracking into a poor imitation of a smile.
“XD, I banish you from these lands. Your protection is no longer my issue and your wellbeing isn’t secure.” The smile fractures further. “You can die now.”
Wilbur wakes up. He doesn’t wake sweating and shaking, like he’d woken up all the past nights, but instead with a strange calm. A god getting banished, huh?
He sits up and moves with practiced ease, brushing the hair out of his eyes and washing with water too hot.
Glancing outside, he frowns as the sun just barely breaks the horizon. He hasn’t woken this early in a long time.
The burger van comes into view as Wilbur whistles quietly to open up the shop. He’s got products to sell. He needs to have products to sell. His words don’t work anymore.
Keys turn with a metallic screech and Wilbur throws open the door, startling… Ranboo?
“Oh! Um— Hi Wilbur? You’ve never been here this early before.” He suddenly remembers what he was doing, and gestures hastily at the scene in front of him. “Just wanted to get a headstart on making the… burgers. Yeah.”
Wilbur looks over the perfectly crafted burgers carefully, nodding with approval.
“This is good stuff, Ranboo! We’ll beat out Quackity in no time if you keep up the good work.” He smiles earnestly, surprised to find when Ranboo grins back. Well, of course, Ranboo’s genuine all the time. People just don’t seem to understand them both, he guesses.
Ranboo turns back to the burgers with a little sigh. Wilbur exits, then. He’ll leave the boy to his work.
Wilbur likes his schedule. It keeps him busy. His eyes land on Las Nevadas. Next on his plan. Like always.
He wanders over to some part of the city, not really bothering to keep track of what is where.
No longer than 30 seconds after he steps into the area, he hears Quackity’s angry footsteps approaching.
“ Wilbur , you disaster,” He huffs, “How many times have I told you not to meddle with my affairs?”
He’s getting déjà vu.
“Quackity, Quackity, calm down. I haven’t even done anything! I’m just admiring your architecture.” He grins widely. “Whoever built this place did a splendid job.”
“Wilbur. I don’t care why you’re here. Leave, now.” Quackity’s been angrier lately.
“Of course, anything you ask.” An overwhelming sweetness surrounds their interactions. Slow and sticky like melted caramel, it never fails to delight Wilbur. It was one of his favorite parts of the schedule.
“I don’t— ugh , Wilbur, please just leave. I can’t deal with you right now.” A hand comes to press between Quackity’s brows. Wilbur’s eyes follow the movement.
“ Okay , okay, I’m going.” He says, laughing.
He continues his morning stroll, the sun now fulling rising out of the rolling hills in the distance.
This part isn’t in the schedule. It’s a couple of hours where Wilbur does whatever he wants. It’s like a memory that he’s never lived. Somewhere he can remember what it was like to do things great. He usually just goes for a walk.
And he does that now.
The Prime Path comes into view. Why was it called that? Wilbur can’t remember. Something, something, Tommy’s love for God.
He scoffs quietly. God? In this place? If a God existed, he hoped that they knew how much he despised them. He remembers his dream with a start, then. At least he (XD?) knew that interacting with humans was a good thing. How were they supposed to help when they couldn’t talk to them? Couldn’t know who they were? None of them knew who Wilbur was, and he was fine with that. Happy, even. God hasn’t even done anything for him, and he doesn’t want them to start now.
In fact, God could stick it where- “Wilbur?”
The internal monologue shifted to a shattering stop when Wilbur glanced down to look at messy blonde hair and a pained expression.
“Tommy?”
“Wilbur— Wilbur, please, don’t let him get me, please ,” The poor boy is shaking like a leaf. “He was right there and he was— he had— I don’t know ,”
“Hey Tommy, look at me. There’s no one there now, stay with me.” The shock of Tommy being in his arms had Wilbur shifting his weight uncertainly. Was he really the right person for this? Tommy looks distraught and Wilbur was… well, not the best one to counter that.
“There’s someone— thing that keeps showing up. It just— I don’t know, it’s in my dreams and I can never sleep, and I feel so, so , weak, Wilbur, and I don’t know how to stop.” Tommy’s voice wavers unsurely like Wilbur won’t believe him.
“Oh, Tommy, that sounds… awful.” He admits. Wilbur’s getting dreams too, but at least he can sleep. “Do you want to go home?”
The little cave dug into the dirt of the land is hardly what Wilbur would consider home, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“Um— yeah, yeah. I want to go home. Please.” Tommy says quietly.
Wilbur takes his arm gently and starts guiding him in the right direction. They walk silently, with the sounds around them filling the void.
It feels off, somehow, having Tommy so still. He shivers in his grasp, stepping carefully.
When they arrive, Wilbur shakes the boy gently, having noticed he was dozing off.
“Tommy, hey, wake up. We’re here.” He whispers.
Tommy lifts his head with unexpected energy, surprising Wilbur. His face turns to him, tilting his head slightly.
“Wilbur, will you please come in? I don’t want to be alone right now.” He says quietly, pouting a little. Tommy looks heart-wrenchingly childlike at that moment, so Wilbur is inclined to agree.
But when Wilbur walks in, it is not the strangely homely cavern of hope. It’s not the place that Tommy had learned to love. It is white and surgical and something he hasn’t seen before.
It’s unnerving .
He whirled around to face Tommy, who had trailed behind, but he… isn’t there anymore.
“Tommy?” He calls out uncertainly. “Are you there?”
A laugh sounds through the room, coming from not one place. It sounds uncomfortably familiar.
“Who’s there?” He demands. “Show yourself.”
“Oh, young mortal, I don’t think you want me to.”
What?
“No, you cunt, either show yourself or let me out !” He urges angrily.
The laughter continues, circling and circling him. The bright light that reflects off of the white room hurts his eyes. The entrance of the room has disappeared.
“Oh, little one, don’t be so… vulgar .” The voice teases, sounding too flat to sound real. The room begins to close in on him. “Don’t ruin my fun.”
Wilbur’s breathing is heavy in his ears. His hands come over his ears to block out the laughing, the breathing, just anything to take away the loud pounding of his head.
“This is what you call hyperventilation, hm? It was easier to get you there than I thought… the speed could be measured another time, I suppose.”
The scene changes and suddenly he isn’t in the room anymore. His fingers aren’t clamped so tightly around his head when he raises his eyes to survey the scene. He’s on the Prime Path again.
Everything is left how it was before, down to the chipped paint of the benches that line the area.
He takes a tentative step forward.
“What the hell…?” He whispers under his breath. His erratic breathing is evening out, slowly but surely.
“Hey, Wilbur, what’s up, man!” A voice calls out to him. Wilbur whirls around to face Quackity, but… that’s not the Quackity he knows. Not anymore.
No scars plague his face and no contempt fills his expression. If Wilbur didn’t know better, he would say Quackity was happy to see him.
The other claps his shoulder happily and pulls him into a walk.
“How do? It’s so nice out, man, you should be frolicking or something! Whatever you usually do.” He laughed goodheartedly, seemingly ignoring Wilbur’s shaken steps.
“I— Quackity, how are you so… different?” Wilbur asks, almost begging for an explanation. Quackity just blinks.
“Different? Well, I’d say I’m the same as like, yesterday when I last saw you. Stop playing around, Wilbur.” He laughs loudly and continues walking.
Wilbur trails behind.
“Why is everything changing , Quackity, I don’t understand.” His voice is coming out cracked, his breath catching again. “Please just tell me. I know something’s wrong.”
(He’s remembering what’s happening faster this time. Write that down for the logs.)
“Nothing’s wrong, Wilbur! Let it go, man.” But then, he stops.
“I mean unless you want to count the moment when you ruined my life.” Quackity’s voice shifts into something sinister. “You ruined my life, Wilbur. And Tubbo’s and Fundy’s and every other asshole that lived in L’manburg.”
Wilbur stops and steps back. Oh no .
“No, Quackity, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—,”
“ Oh , the great and powerful Wilbur Soot didn’t mean to? The man of many words? The one who can do no wrong?” Quackity sneers, his lip curling into something dark. Wilbur can see his scars, now. This is more familiar. “You convinced me, you convinced everyone that you had it covered, but you were just as fucked up as the rest of us. High and mighty on your throne of deception, Wilbur, that’s what you’ve always been.”
Quackity’s voice is distorting now, with his anger pulling through.
“You ruined my fucking life , Wilbur. My career.” He stops, suddenly, and smiles. All teeth and ivory bone. “And you ruined Tommy’s, too.”
No.
A new voice comes from behind Quackity.
“What did I do to you, Wilbur?”
No.
“I was there by your side the whole time, wasn’t I? I tried to help you, and you fuckin’ blew yourself up !” Tommy’s here now. Tommy looks angry. “Every time I told you to stop for a moment, you brushed past me! You didn’t care! You never cared about me .”
“Tommy, no , why would you even say that?”
There are tears dripping down Wilbur’s face, he distantly notes. He doesn’t wipe them away.
“You just wanted to help yourself, right? Didn’t matter if there were casualties or if anyone got hurt as long as you got whatever you wanted. Just look at L’manburg now. You think you were doing that for me? You think dragging me along for your revolutionary plans was to help me ? Get off your high fucking horse, Wilbur, and own up to your dan mistakes.”
“Tommy, please , I—I did whatever I could to help you! I wanted you to be there for me, and you were! We were there for each other… we’re the crimeboys, remember? We’re brothers.”
Tommy scoffs harshly and steps forwards again, sweeping his arm with his words. “We aren’t brothers , Wilbur, we never were. You’re just a pathetic man that got too much praise when he was little and didn’t know what to do with it all. You’re useless. I would’ve been better off without you. We all would’ve been.”
The words are worse than poison.
Wilbur’s insides are all twisted up, clenching with every word that comes out of Tommy’s mouth. He’s useless .
(This one hurts him the most. Turn up the intensity next time, but not too high.)
“Do you remember this place, Wilbur?”
It’s Tubbo, now. The scene has changed.
“We used to sit on these walls all the time and you told me we’d all be together forever. Me, you, and Tommy, against the world.” Tubbo’s eyes look up with nothing but venom. “Why did you lie to me?” The black and yellow walls taunt him with memories. Wilbur watches as Tubbo blends in the walls, then fades altogether. He can barely see anymore.
He’s in the white room again.
“Please, please , just let me out. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss you off, just let me out.”
The voice from before coos and giggles.
“Oh, Wilbur , why would you think I’m angry with you? You’re so… entertaining, I would never let you go like that! So filled with emotions, but so desperate to hang on to them. The perfect plaything. Prime thought this wouldn’t work, but I’m having oh so much fun.”
Wilbur feels dread taking him by the throat.
“What the fuck.” He rasps quietly. “What the fuck .”
“Now, now, there, you’re already too stressed out for me to do anything else, don’t worry your little head about that. Just… try to get some rest, will you? You always respond the best after you do.”
There is something forming in front of him, faintly. It’s the being from his dream, he realizes, choking back a sob. His dream was real .
“Goodbye, Wilbur. I’ll see you again soon.”
(End the log here. I want to test him again later when he’s recovered. Put him back into his area, and don’t let him remember.)
And then Wilbur wakes up. His schedule starts yet again, with him washing away his bad dreams with hot, hot water.