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Tubbo smiled. He noticed he’d been doing that more often. The sun shone warmth on his face as he trailed down the Prime Path.
The beets seemed to be doing well. Rows and rows of small sprouts lined the edges of the path, all starting the blossom - as much as beets could - from the summer sun. He watched as small bugs wormed through the dirt under the leaves.
Kneeling down, Tubbo gently held one of the plant’s wide, green leaves in his palm, tracing the pattern of the veins with his thumb. Small holes littered the leaf from where bugs had made a meal. It was such a simple thing, something so small and miniscule, and yet it seemed to be one of the highlights of his day.
A part of him was rather thankful that the server had returned to relative peace. He didn’t have as much to fear now that Dream was in prison, far from him and his family. They were all slowly recovering. They were finally healing. And that was enough for him.
And yet another part of him screamed for adventure, a new purpose to devote himself to. One that could lead to new - hopefully not life-threatening - experiences and ventures. A part of him wanted to feel the same rush of fighting for independence or taking down a tyrannical dictator.
It was a futile dream. There were no safe wars on this server. It was in it ‘till death. You couldn’t fight for independence without taking a sword to the back, and you couldn’t take down a dictator without taking a rocket to the chest.
It was the simple truth to this world. So maybe he was content with the fact he was finally safe.
He rose to his feet, brushing his overgrown fringe from his eyes, continuing his trek down the Prime Path.
Tubbo smiled. He noticed he’d been doing that more often.
He was safe. His family was safe.
And yet fate had other plans.
------
He thought the experiments were working. They were supposed to be working. Why weren’t they working? His memory was getting better. He spent his days less stressed. He’d stopped enderwalking. So why?
Ranboo stood in their basement, frantically turning the pages of their memory book. Something had to be in there. It had to have answers. He had no memory of how he’d gotten to his basement, only simply regaining awareness of his surroundings. Clawed fingers trembled as they continued reading. Nothing had changed, they’d just blacked out briefly. Why was he so panicked over nothing?
The basement was filled with the quiet ambience of general animal chatter. Quiet, indistinguishable, warbling echoed in the room from an enderman. Soft purring from Enderchest who was curled up on top of one of the chests. Happy tweeting from the small flock of parrots.
He continued to read. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, no-
A page was missing. Rough tear marks linded the edge close to the spine. A singular missing page.
“No... No, no, no, no, no, no, no, ” Ranboo dropped the book in a panic. They ran their shaking hands through their hair. It used to be there. He swore it used to be there.
Last time he had checked his book, that page had been there, and now as he stood there, shaking in his basement, Ranboo couldn’t remember what was on it.
He covered his ears. Everything felt so wrong. He felt so wrong .
The tone of the room shifted. Quiet, indistinguishable, warbling echoed in the room from an enderman. Soft purring from Enderchest who was curled up on top of one of the chests. Happy tweeting from the small flock of parrots. Drops of water from the farm above. The muffled chatter of villagers. Echoing footsteps from mobs above. Wood creaking. Wind whistling. The hissing of burning skin. The soft patter of tears landing on the cold, stone floor .
“Stop,” Ranboo let out a choked sob. “Please stop, please-” Their grip over their ears tightened as they fell to their knees, sending a shock through their body.
Ranboo didn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel it. The whole world didn’t feel real, like he was floating in a void that would consume him.
He was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of wrongness. Like a dark pit had opened in his chest to swallow him whole. Static echoed in his ears as the world danced and spun around him. Burning tears trailed down his face, hissing as they fell. Everything was so loud. It was so loud, loud, loud, loud .
And then it stopped.
Silence.
The room felt empty. No more quiet warbling. No more purring or tweeting. No more water, or chatter, or footsteps, or creaking, or whistling. Nothing.
And then he heard it.
Vinyl crackle. Strings. A quiet, faint waltz echoing in his ears.
“ Hello again. ”
He was back .