Chapter Text
Be not a terror to me;
you are my refuge in the day of disaster.
Jeremiah 17:17
Tubbo had grown up hearing tales of the Endermen, the great beings which had supposedly ruled the world before humans came along. He’d never been one for fantastical bedtime stories, especially not about something as ridiculous as giants, but it was hard to stay cynical while standing at the foot of a tower comprised of crumbling stone blocks three times his size. The one he was standing next to was carved with faded runes nearly as big as him.
Tubbo shivered and tugged his coat closer as a gust of wind sent a chill through him and blew snow in his eyes. The stories said that the Endermen had simply gone to sleep and would one day wake to bring the end of the world. That was far easier to disbelieve; even standing at its entrance, Tubbo could clearly see that this city was dead. Everything up here was long abandoned and frozen over; maybe soon Tubbo would join them in their endless sleep. He wasn’t afraid of Endermen, but surely there was a reason that no one dared approach the ruined cities.
For a moment, his resolve wavered. Was he sure he wanted to do this? What if there was something left in there? Did he want to be responsible for waking the sleeping giants? Or what if something worse had moved in? Surely there had to be something other than silly superstitions keeping people out of this place.
Tubbo glanced back at the lonely trail of footprints that served as the only evidence of human presence in this winter wasteland. The snow was falling steadily now, and soon there would be no trace of Tubbo’s presence at all. If he didn’t come back, no one would even know where to look for him. Surely there was a better way to prove himself? Tubbo wasn’t even sure he’d find what he was looking for, and if he went back to Schlatt empty-handed, he’d never see Tommy again.
That set him moving. He’d find something of value in these ruins. Some sort of ancient technology he could use or at least a memento to prove he’d tried. Tubbo Underscore did not back down from a challenge, especially not when his best friend was on the line.
Tubbo took a deep breath and trudged forward into the ruined city.
On the third day, he had to admit he’d seriously miscalculated. For one, the city was so much more massive than he ever could have dreamed, even if he hadn’t been busy laughing at the concept of giants. Tubbo walked for miles and miles and miles, and even then, he could see that he’d hardly entered the city.
And that wasn’t even taking into account the state of the place. Tubbo had been counting on the buildings being somewhat dilapidated. How else could he explore except for climbing up crumbling structures? It wasn’t like he could use stairs meant for giants. But he hadn’t considered the hazards of such a thing. Nothing had collapsed on his head yet, but Tubbo couldn’t shake that sense of paranoia: there was no way a bit of ice was going to hold up these massive structures, and if they decided to crumble now, there was no way he could get out of the way in time.
The fact that there was no one to talk to did not help his mounting paranoia. Especially after dark, when he’d found a secluded corner and settled next to a fire, Tubbo felt the tension like a physical weight on his shoulders. What if there was something out there, watching him? What if he really was the only living thing for miles? He couldn’t decide which thought horrified him more.
He kept expecting to find bodies, which was stupid because the Endermen—or whatever used to live here—had clearly died out thousands of years ago, so any organic remains should be long gone. That didn’t stop Tubbo’s stupid brain from imagining shapes under the ice, turning harmless shadows into monstrous abominations in the edges of his vision.
“It’s for Tommy,” he told himself, wrapping his scarf tighter to protect his nose and ears from the merciless wind.
Tommy, the hollow buildings echoed back to him. Tommy. Tommy.
Tubbo got the sinking feeling he would never see his best friend again.
He didn’t know what he expected to find in those dilapidated buildings. Most of the perishable items had long since wasted away, but there were runes everywhere, carved into walls and the remnants of stone paths. Tubbo supposed the cold had done well for preserving the place; no weeds or moss could grow here to break up the stone, and only the ruthless wind howled through the labyrinth of buildings and courtyards, windows and doorways, ruins and weird statues and frozen trees in what might once have been gardens.
The doorways by themselves were horrifyingly huge. Could something so big really have existed? It made Tubbo feel small and meaningless.
Well you are, aren’t you? he could practically hear Schlatt taunt. A lonely little kid, chasing after fairy tales you don’t even believe in because you know nothing you’re capable of is actually useful. Honestly, I’m doing Tommy a favor, getting rid of you.
Tubbo scowled. He was not chasing after fairy tales.
Rumor had it that the gift of flight was hidden away in these ruins. Elytra, they whispered. Magic of old.
Tubbo didn’t believe in magic. That was ridiculous, of course, and he was a man of science. But surely another civilization had made some scientific advancements as well? If Tubbo could find some ancient discovery that had passed as magic, maybe he could make use of it. There was no guarantee that the elytra even existed in the form of some flying technology, and if it did, it would probably be for these giants, not humans. But Tubbo was clever. If he could adapt the design, maybe Schlatt would find it useful. It was a long shot, but Tubbo didn’t have a lot of options these days. He’d already failed too many times; Schlatt had been clear that this was his last chance. He wasn’t going to waste it.
It was hard to maintain his resolve as he trudged through an endless world of grey and white in snow up to his knees. It also didn’t help that it was getting dark again. Tubbo was lost without a light source. More lost than he was already, anyway, when everything looked the same and none of it was useful. He’d hoped maybe he could find the city’s center, or at least something resembling the remnants of a library, but it was hard to tell what any of these giant buildings were for, and most of the runes were carved into the walls too high for him to see properly, much less attempt to decode.
Despite his resolve, Tubbo heaved a sigh. His supplies were dwindling now. He had known the journey would be long, but there was only so much one boy could carry, and it didn’t help that Tubbo hadn’t seen a breath of life since he’d gotten here. Nothing to hunt meant no food except the resources in his pack, and Tubbo still needed to save some for his trip home.
Firewood was also limited, though he’d managed to find some scattered trees in what seemed to be the remnants of gardens. It allowed him to stay warm when the sun set, though the nights seemed much shorter up here. Speaking of which, he would have to find a place to stop soon, preferably somewhere out of the wind and snow.
Glancing around, he managed to locate a pile of rocks that he could feasibly climb. It looked like a section of the roof had caved in along with part of the wall. It would be good to have the stars above him, Tubbo thought, instead of the lingering fear that everything would collapse on his head like the rest of his life had. He settled into a nook formed by the piles of rubble and set up camp.
Building the fire was his first priority, then he shed his outer coat and spread it beneath him. He had brushed away most of the snow, but the rock face was still freezing cold, and he knew it would quickly rob his body of any heat the fire provided, so it was best to create some insulation. He ate some jerky, winced at how low his rations were. Not much time left, but it was fine. Tubbo would find something. For now, though, he needed to rest, lulled by the roaring fire.
He woke to the creeping cold. Unsurprising; the fire had only been built to last a few hours, so of course it was dying down without him to attend it. It was annoying, but Tubbo had long grown used to sleeping in shifts. He sat up and reached for his pile of firewood. Wait, had he seen something?
Tubbo squinted, tilted his head before slowly lowering himself back to the ground. Yes, there it was again, a flash of purple light at the edge of his vision.
He wondered if this place had finally driven him mad.
Tubbo shook his head and turned back to feed sticks to the struggling fire. It was the paranoia. He had just woken up, after all; maybe it was the lingering effect of a dream.
As the flames glowed brighter, he added some larger sticks. There definitely wasn’t anything alive out here besides him, so he didn’t need to worry about that.
He carefully settled a log into the middle of the now-ravenous flames. Even if there was something there, he could look at it in the morning, when he was awake and could see.
Satisfied with the rejuvenated flames, Tubbo forced himself to lay down again. He needed all the rest he could get.
But now that he knew where to look, he could clearly make out a dim purple glow, a tiny prick of something beyond the firelight, and Tubbo knew he wouldn’t get any more sleep that night.
He tugged on his outer coat and edged along the rubble, knowing full well that a single misstep could lead to him tumbling to his demise. Tubbo grimaced. One day, his curiosity would be the death of him. He could only pray that now wasn’t that time.
Kneeling carefully, he examined the source of the glow. It was a single rune, part of a chunk of rock that had once been higher up on the wall. Now, it lay angled away from the fire and nearly level with the ground, which explained why Tubbo hadn’t noticed it before. It wasn’t as large as the runes at the city entrance, but it was still larger than Tubbo’s head, and the glow was brighter than he had first thought.
Tubbo wondered what made it glow. It must have been an impressive technological advancement, given that it was still glowing thousands of years later. Tubbo traced the grooves with his gloved fingers, but found no hints on the rock face. It seemed like a normal carving as far as he could tell. Huh.
He wished he knew what the rune meant. Obviously, it was important somehow, maybe even a clue to something useful.
Tubbo glanced around. He could see okay thanks to the glow; maybe he could find some other clue nearby.
He could make out several non-glowing symbols on the stone around him, then he caught sight of more purple light several feet away.
Intrigued, Tubbo got to his feet before pausing. He could see well enough right here, but would that continue to be the case? What if the glow wore off or something? And what if he couldn’t find his way back to the campsite? He’d die without supplies.
He went back for a torch, scooped up his pack, and bid his still-roaring fire a reluctant farewell before venturing back into the cold.
The hunt was on.
Whatever itch Tubbo had felt in the back of his mind was right: upon locating the second glowing rune, he noticed a third further away. They seemed to form a trail through the ruins, though Tubbo couldn’t quite tell whether it was deliberate. It was his only lead, though, and the longer it went on, the more curious he felt.
He found himself climbing over rubble, shimmying between rocks, climbing down precarious ledges he never would have dared approach otherwise, trying hard not to drop the torch in the process.
Over time, he realized it was the same rune that glowed every time. Surely there was some meaning to it then? Sometimes it stood alone, and sometimes, it was accompanied by several other runes into what Tubbo assumed was a longer word. He found it carved in rubble, painted onto what may have been some remains of a giant clay pot, at the feet of weird statues with squarish heads and disproportionately long limbs. Tubbo was pretty sure the structures must have had some sort of weird religious meaning because there was no way any actual being could look like that.He followed well into the night, forgetting to set camp or knowing that if he did, he’d lose his nerve, and he needed something, anything that could help him either win over Schlatt or at least distract the man so he could rescue Tommy.
At some point, he realized he was underground and had no idea where he was. Then his torch died, and he panicked a bit, but he also knew he couldn’t stop himself if he tried at this point, so there was nothing to do but press on.
And on and on and on.
The debris was gone now, so that was nice. It seemed like the tunnels hadn't suffered nearly as much from decay, which was a relief, though Tubbo was a little too focused by now to care about petty paranoia. This meant that the runes were higher up now, but Tubbo could still make out their purple glow in the dark.
Finally, he rounded a corner and found what he was looking for. There was a giant hall, its floor carved with concentric squares of runes, which was an odd design choice, but it fit with what he’d seen thus far of their architecture. Little purple particles danced around the room, offering dim lighting so he could make out more detail as he approached. True to form, some of the symbols glowed purple here and there, the same exact symbol every time. There was also a new rune that glowed blue instead, but it only appeared once, at the end of the message.
There was something momentous about the whole thing, and he wished he could read the ancient language. Maybe with paper and enough time, but Tubbo wasn’t a linguist, and he didn’t have time to waste.
The blue rune, though, that was interesting. It kind of echoed the shape of the purple one in some ways, and he wondered if that was relevant, or if it was the Enderman equivalent of b and d.
And how was it all still glowing, when all other signs of life had abandoned this place? More importantly, what could he get out of it?
Tracing the grooves revealed nothing different about the blue runes either. Tubbo hummed to himself consideringly.
Did that symbol show up anywhere else? If he could find a broken one that didn’t glow, maybe he could compare and find the secret.
Scanning the larger message, Tubbo thought he saw something move in the darkness, and it startled him out of his reverie enough to notice the giant silhouette in the center of the room. Was something rumbling, low and quiet?
He swallowed. No. No, he was just being paranoid again because it almost sounded like the walls were purring, and that was impossible.
To spite his stupid nerves, Tubbo went to investigate the thing. It was probably just another one of those weird statues making odd shapes in the darkness since the glow of the runes didn’t reach this far into the room and the little purple particles didn’t offer much light.
It took him a second to make anything out in the blackness, but then he nearly tripped over what felt like a large log, except it was squarish instead of rounded, and it felt kind of soft against his foot? Tubbo frowned and reached down to touch it, and it didn’t feel like any wood or stone he’d ever touched. It wasn’t hard; the material gave way beneath his fingertips, almost like flesh. He slipped off his gloves to feel it, and the texture was odd, kind of cool and smooth and almost scaly. Weird.
He could feel the rounded corners that made him think of the squarish statues, but running his fingers along its length, he found two joints that angled the thing upward into a C shape. Laid flat, it would surely have been longer than he was tall.
Tubbo frowned, struggling to picture the thing he had found. What was it? He probably shouldn’t be touching some random thing he couldn’t identify, but Tubbo was all but blind down here, and he felt he was on the edge of some incredible discovery. This was why he had come here, wasn’t it?
He imagined he heard that low grumbling noise again and snorted. If something else was here, it would have attacked him already. Clambering over the thing, Tubbo found a similar one behind it, then a third and fourth. Each seemed to be a slightly different length, each jointed and curled up at a similar angle. All, he came to realize, connected to a wide, flat thing which just went on and on and on, though the part where it attached to the jointed things had a little dip in it. On the far side from the direction he had entered the room, jutting out perpendicular to the others, Tubbo found another long thing attached with only one joint. It kind of reminded him of how a thumb would connect to a hand. Tubbo smirked at the thought. Then he actually registered what it meant for him: he was sitting in a giant hand.
He scrambled back with a shriek that he immediately tried to muffle. Nothing swooped out of the darkness to assault him, but he didn’t feel safe until he had retreated back to where the runes offered a soft purple light. Finally, looking back, he was able to identify what he was looking at. It could only really be described as a nest, a heap of giant tangled limbs. Obsidian black scales. Massive squarish heads nuzzling together in deceptively humanlike fondness. The low grumbling he thought he heard was snoring, and somehow, impossibly, those were Endermen.