Chapter Text
Howling.
Howling, Howling, Howling.
Everything roaring, roaring, and roaring.
He wanted it to stop. It had to stop.
It burnt. It hurt.
Stop it… Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!
And then it did.
☄
Ranboo shot up, gasping for air.
His head was still spinning, and his chest was heaving, but his surroundings, whatever they were, felt more real… Less wet as well.
Less wet?
Oh my god.
He was dead. Ranboo was dead. Sam had killed him.
Ranboo had spent the last weeks? Months? Years..? However long he had been dead, he had spent it submerged in water that ate at his skin, with Tubbo and Michaels voices, placing them just far enough away that they couldn’t hear his drowned screams for help.
But now that had changed. While his head was still spinning and his eyes were still forced shut, the ground he was laying on felt dry. His skin was no longer on fire from the contact with the water, and he could no longer hear Tubbo or Michael.
Did he get revived?
It would make sense, he knew that it was possible. He had basically been present for Wilbur’s revival and had heard Tommy talk about his time in limbo.
But why would Dream want him alive? He was the one who could have stopped Sam from killing him and didn’t… Now that he was out of prison, Ranboo doubted he would need the Enderwalk state anymore.
Also wouldn’t someone be talking to him right now? Whoever revived him would want to know if it worked, wouldn’t they?
Open your eyes, man. Ranboo knew he had to, that would help him know where he was and what was happening. Hoping with all his heart that he was just so dissociated from reality that he couldn’t hear the people around him yet and that when he would open his eyes he would be met with the warm gaze of his husband.
But no.
Prying his eyes open, Ranboo felt what must partially have been the reason he had struggled to open his eyes - a blindfold. He reached behind his head and tried to untie it. He recognised the feeling of the fabric and the way it was tied as similar to what he had worn at... Well, after an experiment.
Finally, the boy managed to get the knot in the fabric untied, and pulled it off his face, to get a look at his surroundings.
At first, he saw nothing but darkness. After a little while, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and his surroundings became clearer.
He was outside, the very faint moonlight almost shining directly in his face, only being slightly obscured by a tall building. That wasn’t the only tall building. Ranboo was in an alleyway, but not one typical of the SMP. It looked more like it would fit in with Las Nevadas, except it was much… Grimier. And didn’t have enough obnoxious lights everywhere.
Using the slight bodily control he had regained over the last few minutes, Ranboo managed to place his hand on the, unusually soft, ground and push himself up.
Or, well, he tried.
Something - he guessed part of his outfit - had been under his hand on the ground, and made his bounce back on the ground. Normally this wouldn’t be enough to make him lose his balance - was his tail broken? It was rare but a possibility.
Wait. His tail.
Ranboo couldn’t feel his tail at all. Pushing aside the fabric - a black cloak - he once again attempted to push himself up, this time with more success. Now standing, Ranboo realised he had never felt his tail while on the ground. It was gone.
The boy went to run his fingers through his hair but now saw that his skin on both arms was a pale ivory, instead of their normal black and white.
What the heck was going on. Was this reincarnation? No, then he would’ve been a freaking baby.
Ranboo went to grab at his head to see if his horns were still there. Nothing.
This had to be some limbo-induced fever dream, right? Had all the months of being drenched in the water finally gotten to him? Or was this the afterlife? Wouldn’t he just look like himself then?
His chest once again heaving, Ranboo started pulling at his hair in distress as he squeezed his eyes shut and squatted back down on the ground. Nothing but his uncomfortably quick breathing, and the sound of occasional cars on the road next to him, roaring in his ears.
His thoughts were racing an ungodly amount, he only had faint memories of it ever being this bad, but even those were hard to identify as faint memories instead of very convincing dreams. He didn’t even have the comforting purple glow of his particles to remind him to keep his composure or tell him what happened in the gap that there must have been in his memory.
Ranboo hadn’t even noticed he was wrapping the cloak around himself until his head screamed at him to get free, to escape the trap he was in. Frantically and shaking, he got the black fabric off himself, which somehow eased his mind a good amount. He was now slightly colder, but more comfortable than he had felt in what could have been years at this point.
With the heavy fabric now discarded on the ground next to him, he could feel the cool air more tightly against his skin. It’s okay. You’re here, and it’s all real. Ranboo kept telling himself this and similar calming phrases until his breathing calmed.
While he was still not feeling in his right mind to stand up, the boy did try taking another look at his surroundings, maybe he could identify where on the SMP he could be.
Looking toward the road, the terrain in sight was definitely not somewhere Ranboo could recognise. It was just a crap ton of concrete and tall buildings, sidewalks dimly lit by janky light posts, and an embarrassing amount of litter everywhere. How recently did people throw that there? It looked like it had been there for a while, so shouldn’t it have despawned by now?
Besides that, Ranboo was impressed by the amount of and sheer size of the buildings in sight. He wouldn’t have blinked an eye at the changes if he had truly been gone for years, but he knew from Tommy and Wilbur that time passed slower in limbo, so he had no clue how everything could have changed this much already.
The focus having been shifted towards his surroundings, Ranboo now noticed a wave of tiredness and relief falling over him as his breathing slowed to a much calmer pace and his head truly stopped spinning.
His appearance was still in the back of his mind, but he managed to push it away enough to get himself back onto his legs, and slowly stepped out of the alleyway onto the dimly illuminated sidewalk.
His feet dragged. He was tired. Ungodly tired, but he wanted to go home. He needed to go home. He needed to see a friendly face, hug his son, embrace his husband, something that felt familiar.
But even as he stepped out into the street, getting a clearer view, the environment didn’t get any more familiar. With an exasperated sigh, Ranboo drug himself down the sidewalk, hoping at least he would bump into someone that could help him get to the right place.
After having walked for a bit, Ranboo deeply regretted abandoning the cloak he had been wearing earlier in the alleyway, but at this point, he had turned so many corners he could not find his way back to it if he had the specific coordinates.
Coordinates.
In his exhausted state, Ranboo had completely forgotten about his communicator. Frantically, he shoved his hands in his pockets and got the hold of something feeling communicator-like. Getting it out, Ranboo didn’t recognise it as a communicator immediately, but even if it was, it didn’t matter.
The glass screen was practically splintered, and part of the back had fallen off, exposing some rather futuristic - though severely damaged - technology.
Well crap.