Chapter Text
Look, Tommy was very much aware that most people would consider his hobby to be a little… strange. Quirky, if you will. Or, as Ranboo would put it, “dangerous, terrifying, and illegal.”
Most people can also go fuck themselves—Ranboo included—because exploring the old subway tunnels is fun as hell. There are miles and miles of them sprawling out beneath the city, twisting and turning and branching off and converging back together—all of it blocked off from public access.
Are they blocked off for a reason? Probably.
Does Tommy give a shit? Absolutely not.
You’d think that it would get a little monotonous, that everything down there just looks the same. But with a city as old as L’Manburg, there have been enough changes in architecture and advancements in technology throughout the years to make for an insane amount of variety. Tommy didn’t know much about history, but he always found it interesting to explore and catalog all the different types of tunnels.
His favorite kind of tunnel, and one of the rarest, isn’t even a subway line at all. As it turns out, there are a few places where the old, old sewer system (like, literal centuries old) can be accessed.
They’re usually a lot shorter than the rest of the tunnels, but they’re by far the coolest. There’s all sorts of animals living in there and weird shit growing on the walls; plus, it doesn’t smell nearly as bad as you’d think, since it hasn’t actually been used in a long time. With the rough, archaic stone brick walls, it feels like wandering through an ancient ruin.
It was in the midst of exploring one such passageway, an excited grin on Tommy’s face as he marveled at his surroundings—the way moss had grown into the cracks between the bricks, nature reclaiming a space long forgotten by humanity—when he spotted a tiny patch of light further down the tunnel.
Intrigued, he scampered over towards it to investigate. He looked up at the ceiling, checking to see if there might be a crack or a small gap that was letting sunlight in, but there was nothing of the sort. He dropped down from the ledge he had been walking along so he could get a better angle to see where the light was coming from.
As he looked closer, however, he realized that the light seemed to be coming not from some external source, but from an object that was laying amongst the mud and plants.
Now, this was another reason why Tommy loved to explore underground: all the stuff you can find down there. He honestly has no clue how it all ends up in the subway tunnels of all places, but he rarely comes home from an excursion without finding something of interest.
A porcelain figure of a ballerina in pirouette, an old rusty key, a stack of newspapers about the assassination of some politician from before he was born, a broken cassette player with purple stars painted onto it.
A mug that said ‘World’s Best Mom’ that he gave to Ranboo, who still uses it religiously. A metal lunchbox with a cartoon rabbit on it that he gave to Tubbo, who had proceeded to throw it at Tommy’s face and dented the wall when he missed (he now packs his lunch in it every day when he goes to work).
Point being, he was no stranger to finding cool shit in the tunnels, things that hadn’t been touched in decades.
Or, given the location in this case… centuries?
He reached down with a mystified gasp to pick up a faintly glowing white stone, no larger than the width of his thumb. A leather cord in surprisingly good shape came with it, uprooting a few weeds that had grown over and around it.
The stone itself was uneven and cloudy, like a rough quartz, and it casted a dull light across the surface of Tommy’s palm. He stared at it in wonder, an amazed chitter slipping past his lips.
Suddenly, the glow began to brighten and intensify. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the rock light up with a pristine white brilliance.
A moment passed as Tommy dared not move a muscle.
“… Hello?”
“AHHH!” Tommy shrieked, stumbling backwards and dropping the stone when he heard a voice in his head, all echoey and shit. He fell onto his ass with a whimpering yelp, his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at the fucking talking rock in front of him.
The rock pulsed slightly, almost… invitingly. Which was a little concerning. Tommy had never encountered a rock with an agenda before.
But Tommy was a big, huge man! He wasn’t afraid of no fuckin’ rock, even if it potentially wanted to steal his body and/or soul! And so, with a deep breath to psyche himself up, he snatched the rock and immediately shouted at it, “Hello?!”
“H-hello?! Holy shit, I was right! I thought I could feel someone!” The voice sounded like… well, it sounded like just some guy. He seemed about as shocked as Tommy was, though there was an air of excitement to his words as well.
“Who are you? Why is a rock talking to me in my fuckin’ ‘ead? Explain, rock! I need answers!” Tommy demanded.
The voice blew out a sigh. “I wish I could give them to you. I honestly have no idea how I ended up in a rock, of all things. Thank fuck you turned up, I’ve been sitting here for bloody ages.”
Tommy squinted his eyes. “Wait, so you’re not the rock? You’re just a person inside of the rock?”
“Uh… I guess so? I’m not really sure how it works, to be honest.” The voice hummed thoughtfully. “Either way, I could use your help in getting out of this thing.”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down! You never answered my question, who the fuck are you?”
“Well, my name is Wilbur.” the voice gave easily. “What’s yours?”
Tommy cleared his throat haughtily. “You may call me Big Man.”
“Hmmm…” Wilbur went quiet for a moment before continuing, “Tommy, huh?”
“What the fuck?!” Tommy screeched, ears pinned back and tail bristling as Wilbur burst into laughter. “How did you—what—”
“Surface level information like that is written into your essence. It’s pretty easy to find. For example, I can tell that your name is Tommy, you’re a raccoon hybrid, and you’re… fifteen years old?” Wilbur groaned dramatically. “I can’t believe that after all this time, my savior is a child.”
“Oi, fuck you! If you don’t appreciate my godly presence, then I’ll just fuckin’ leave you here for the next person to find, dickhead!” Tommy let the stone fall out of his grasp, looping a finger into the leather cord to let it dangle in the air.
“No, wait! Please!” Wilbur’s voice quickly shifted into genuine panic. “I’m sorry, I-I was just joking! Please, please don’t leave me here!”
Tommy… felt kinda bad. He hadn’t actually planned on leaving Wilbur behind, he was just biting back for the sake of it. “Alright, alright, fuckin’ hell. I’m not gonna drop you, quit being a bitch.” he grumbled.
Wilbur let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. Anyway, back to the topic at hand, I need your help on getting out of here.”
“How the fuck am I meant to do that?” Tommy asked as he started to walk back in the direction he came from. “Maybe if I break the rock, it’ll let you out?” He wound his arm up, preparing to throw the rock at the stone ground beneath him.
“NO NO NO, STOP!”
Mid-swing, Tommy felt his muscles freeze in place. For a split second, it was like he had been knocked out of the driver’s seat, unable to move his body while still remaining conscious of everything around him.
Then, as suddenly as it had come on, the feeling passed, Tommy’s arm falling limply to his side with the rock clutched in his grip as he abruptly regained control.
“What the fuck did you just do?!” He brought the rock up to his face so he could shout at it.
“You were gonna break me!” Wilbur countered.
Tommy scowled at the rock. “You said that you were in the rock, not that you were the rock. I was trying to get you out of it, and you—you—fucking, mind controlled me, or something!”
“I did not ‘mind control’ you, I… controlled your body.”
“Oh, big fuckin’ difference!”
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck would happen if you broke the rock, okay?! It could let me out, or it could kill me, I have no idea! I’m just as in the dark about this as you are!”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “You’re so needy. I won’t break the fuckin’ rock, okay? But how else do you expect me to get you out of there?”
Wilbur went quiet for a moment. “We’re gonna have to get Phil and Techno…” he muttered as if he was talking to himself.
Tommy scrunched up his nose at the names, his whiskers twitching. “Who? Who’s Phil? Phil McCracken?”
“Wh—no, just Phil.” Wilbur corrected, completely missing Tommy’s incredible joke. “Phil and Techno, they’re my… They can help us. We just have to find them.”
“Alright,” Tommy agreed, “where are they?”
“I can probably guide you to them, but… well, where are we? I don’t recognize this place.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up as he let out an excited chitter. “We’re in the old sewer system! This is one of the coolest fucking places in the city, they build it like ages ago, and a lot of it’s still standing! There’s all these cool bricks ‘n moss ‘n shit, and, and…”
He trailed off, the smile slowly melting off of his face. “Wait… how long have you been inside the rock?”
“I dunno.” Wilbur replied, sounding rather unbothered. “Time was kinda hard to gauge. A pretty long time, I think.”
Tommy sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Yeeaaahhhh, so uh… I mean, if you’ve been in here since this place was still in use, then… Well, I’ve got some bad news about those friends of yours, big man.”
“What…?” Tommy could practically feel the confusion radiating from the rock as Wilbur didn’t seem to quite get what he was saying.
Then, he let out a bark of laughter. “Ohhh! No, no, you don’t have to worry about that! Trust me, they’re fine.” He sounded almost… smug.
“Riiight…” Tommy drawled. “I’m gonna be honest, you sound a bit like you’re in de-nail , my friend.”
“I’m in… what? Do you mean ‘denial’?”
Tommy nodded. “That’s what I said. I know all about denial—in fact, I’m a master of the seven deadly stages of grief, so I can recognize denial when I see it.”
“Seven? What are the other six?” Wilbur prompted, sounding humored.
Tommy began counting on his fingers. “It goes denial, then anger, greed, lust, famine, acceptance, and then death.”
Wilbur burst into high-pitched, breathy laughter, and Tommy couldn’t help but join in with a pleased grin on his face. “Oh—oh, they are going to love you. Just trust me, once you get back to the surface I can guide you to them. You’ll see what I mean.”
Tommy still wasn’t quite convinced that ‘Phil and Techno’ would still be alive after what must have been hundreds of years, but he relented. “Alright, whatever you say, big man.”
He placed a hand on his chin. “Well, if we’re heading up to the surface… then I might as well give you a tour along the way!”
“A tour of what? ”
“Why, the subway tunnels, of course!”
Tommy trekked back through the underground, the whole time chattering away to Wilbur about their surroundings—the style in which the tunnels were carved out and the materials the walls were made from, where each of the offshoots they passed led to. He made sure to call attention to all the various points of interest on their path, like the rat’s nest inside an old electrical box and the place where he tripped and broke his toe.
Ranboo had tried to get him to stop coming down here after that. As if.
Finally, Tommy shoved aside a manhole cover and emerged into an alleyway. “And we have arrived!”
“Thank fuck. If I had to listen to you talk about ‘ the superiority of cobblestone’ for any longer, I might have reconsidered having you just smash the stone on the ground.”
Tommy’s ears pinned back in offense. “Fuck you, cobblestone is superior! The texture is just simply unmatched!”
“Oh, whatever, you gremlin. You can continue ranting later, right now I need you to take me to the nearest place of worship.”
A snarky remark died on Tommy’s tongue as he looked down at the rock, perplexed. “A—a place of worship?”
“Yeah, y’know. A temple, a shrine, a church—just whatever’s closest. Doesn’t matter which god it’s devoted to.”
That was a… weird request. Tommy furrowed his brow, tail swishing behind him as he tried to think of anything that fit that description. “Uhhh… the only place I can think of that’s still running is the cathedral in the old town, and that’s pretty much all the way across the city…”
“…What?” Wilbur’s reply was quiet, almost breathless.
“I mean, if you really think they’ll be there, we can still go. It just might take a while, and I’ll probably need to stop by my apartment to tell my roommates—”
“No, no, back up. What do you mean that’s the only one that’s still running? There’s only one place of worship in the entire city?” Any trace of joviality in Wilbur’s voice had drained away, replaced by an icy urgency.
Tommy didn’t answer right away, trying to figure out why Wilbur sounded so panicked about that fact. “I… I don’t… I mean…” he stammered, trying to find the right words. He never really knew or cared much about religion, so he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Well… everyone always says that the gods abandoned us, or some shit, right?” he settled on. “It’s been, like, fucking ages since they’ve shown a sign since they’re still around. What’s there to worship anymore?”
A moment passed. Wilbur remained silent, the only sounds being the ambient bustle of the city around them.
A realization slowly washed over Tommy. “Wait, you’ve been in the rock for a long time, right? Were the gods still around when you were alive?”
“…Yeah, you could say that.” Wilbur nearly whispered. “Tommy, can you… can you take me to that cathedral?”
Tommy would’ve complained about the distance he had to walk, what with how expensive bus fares have gotten recently, but he bit his tongue. It seemed like Wilbur was having a bit of a crisis over what Tommy had revealed to him, which made sense with what he knew of the time Wilbur came from. People had apparently been pretty devoted to the gods before they disappeared.
…Tubbo and Ranboo would understand, right? It wouldn’t be the first time that he disappeared for a few more hours than he had intended to. This seemed pretty important, and the detour back to his apartment would take almost as long as the walk to the cathedral itself.
“Um… yeah, sure. I can take you there."
Wilbur didn’t respond. Tommy poked his head out of the alleyway to gauge exactly where he was in the city, and began heading in the direction of the old town.
Despite the distance, the journey passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. Neither Wilbur nor Tommy said a word the entire time, which even Tommy recognized as uncharacteristic of himself.
He was given no time to ponder on that, however, as he soon found himself standing in front of the old, crumbling cathedral. It was once one of L’Manburg’s greatest landmarks, a beautiful feat of engineering and dedication built to honor the gods that watched over the land.
Now, it sat in near ruin. The stone was dull and blackened from a lack of proper maintenance, one of the towers had partially collapsed in on itself, and the garden that surrounded it was overgrown with weeds. Of the three magnificent stained glass windows that adorned the front, one had been smashed, and the other two were covered in a thick layer of grime.
Overall, it casted a dreary shadow upon this whole area of the city. A relic of the past, a glimpse of the heights from which the world had fallen, and a bitter reminder of the gods that had forsaken it.
“I… I can’t feel a thing…” Wilbur finally broke the silence between them, his uneasy words doing nothing to ease the tension.
“Can’t feel… what?” Tommy questioned.
“Go inside.” Wilbur instructed in lieu of an answer. “Please.”
“Uhh… okay.” Tommy glanced over to the massive doors that led into the cathedral. One of them was slightly crooked open. That… that meant that he could just walk in, right? He had never actually been inside the cathedral before, so he wasn’t sure if it was, like, restricted or something.
Not that that would stop him; Tommy was an expert in getting into places he shouldn’t be. It would just make things take a little longer.
Tommy crept up to the entrance, ears perked for any sign of someone who would try to stop him. But there was nothing. He poked his head in through the opening to take a look inside.
Somehow, the cathedral looked even more massive on the interior. The high arched ceilings seemed so far away, more like a distant backdrop than a tangible part of the environment. Dust hung heavy in the air, dulling the orange glow of the setting sun that shone in through tall windows.
The entryway, a wide hall lined with rows and rows of seats that slowly descended further with each step, was nearly empty. A few people sat scattered across the pews, mostly old folks.
There was a man with dark hair who looked to be in his thirties, casually resting his arm against the back of the bench as he stared at the three massive statues ahead of him in the main chamber. A teenage girl with tattered curls had her eyes closed and hands brought together in silent prayer.
All of them sat alone. None of them made any acknowledgement of Tommy’s entry.
“So, uhh… where to, big man?” Tommy whispered to the rock.
A beat passed. “Go up to the statues.”
Tommy nodded and began the slow descent into the heart of the cathedral, passing by each of the people sitting in the pews one by one. Only the dark-haired man spared him a glance, narrowing his eyes slightly before returning his gaze to the statues.
Unlike the long, rectangular entryway, the main chamber of the cathedral was circular. Three towering statues stood on a raised platform in the center; Tommy presumed that they were supposed to depict the gods.
On the left was a man with a pair of massive, highly detailed wings stretched out behind him. His head was tilted downwards, a wide-brimmed hat obscuring most of his face apart from a knowing smirk. One hand sat lightly on his chin, the other slightly raised by his side with the palm facing down.
On the right was another man whose head was held high, chin raised as he looked down upon Tommy with a serene smile. As if to mirror the wings of the man on the left, he had one arm splayed out to the side and the other raised up above his head with a relaxed crook in his elbow.
And lastly, the man in the center was kneeling down between the other two. A thick cape hung from his shoulders and pooled around him. His arms were leaned atop a sword that plunged downwards into the earth, a crown on the floor encircling it. The man looked to be a boar hybrid of some kind, tusks curving out of his mouth and a flat, upturned nose sitting at the tip of his snout-like face.
Unlike the others, he wore not a smile nor a grin, but a solemn, dignified visage that stared directly forwards with stony determination.
The center of the main chamber was open to the sky, though the sun currently sat at such an angle that the only light which fell on the statues was from the windows on the western wall, illuminating the man on the right and leaving the other two shrouded in shadow.
Below the statues was a stone altar. A few offerings had been left on it: a bouquet of flowers, some dull red apples, and a few coins. Tommy’s fingers twitched as he approached it, itching to snatch up the currency for himself. It’s not like the gods needed it anymore.
Wilbur would probably be pretty pissed at him, though, so he reluctantly forced his gaze away and walked past the altar to the very base of the statues.
“Alright, well… here we are.” He held the stone up slightly, as if trying to give Wilbur a better look. He didn’t know how this shit worked.
“... They’re not here.” Wilbur murmured, quiet but with a trace of something anguished. “Even here, at the very heart of our worship, there’s nothing. They’re just… gone.”
Tommy couldn’t stop a slightly frustrated sigh from slipping out. “Wilbur, what the fuck are you talking about? I brought you all this way, and you’re not making any fucking se—”
“Can you climb up to the top of the statues?”
“WHAT?!” Tommy squawked, the sound coming out much louder than he’d intended and echoing around the cathedral. He immediately flattened his ears down, ducking his head as he looked over his shoulders and was met with a number of annoyed glares. Luckily, nobody seemed like they were going to do anything about it.
“You’re a pretty good climber, right? Just—just take me up as high as you can, and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Okay, first of all, it is very presumptuous of you to assume that I’m good at climbing just because I’m a raccoon hybrid. Kinda rude, if you ask me.”
“And second of all, of fucking course I can climb up there, who do you think I am? More importantly, do you have any idea how much fucking trouble I’ll get in?!” Tommy threw his hands up, gesturing towards the dozen or so witnesses sitting in the pews.
“Don’t worry about them. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Wilbur sounded awfully confident in that statement for someone who was currently stuck inside of a fucking rock.
Tommy crossed his arms, biting his lip in contemplation. It was all-in-all a stupid idea that was bound to piss people off and get him kicked out of the cathedral, probably for a long time.
His eyes wandered upwards. The statues were made from stone, but years without being polished had left them porous and rough. It wouldn’t be… impossible to climb up.
Soft chitters poured out of his mouth as he mapped out a way up the statues, identifying dents and ridges that he could use as handholds.
He shouldn’t do it. He was bound to get into massive trouble, and it’s possible he could fall and seriously injure himself. All for some fucker in a rock that he’d met only hours beforehand.
In the end, however, one specific factor tipped him over the edge.
It would be really funny.
Wordlessly, Tommy grabbed the edge of the platform the statues stood on and hoisted himself up. He scurried over to the cape of the kneeling man and began to scramble up it, using his claws to anchor himself.
It didn’t take long to get all the way up onto the man’s shoulder. At that point, Tommy began to hear voices in the distance, confused mutters morphing into enraged shouts when they realized what he was doing. He ignored them, of course, tail flicking back and forth as he scanned for the best way to continue from there.
“To your left, along the arm.”
Tommy looked over to where Wilbur was directing him. Sure enough, there was a clear path up the winged man’s forearm to his face, and from there he could climb up and around on his hair…
The voices beneath him got louder as Tommy ascended further and further up the trio of statues, but he paid them no mind, only listening to Wilbur who continued to give tips and point out which way to go.
Eventually, Tommy made it all the way up to the highest point: the very tip of the man on the left’s wing.
He carefully put one foot beneath him, shifting his weight around to find a good stance.
Then, the other foot.
Slowly, using his tail to keep balance, he rose to a standing position.
Forcing himself not to look down, he lifted his arm, holding the rock up to the sky.
The crowd below went silent. Or maybe Tommy just couldn’t hear them from up there.
Then, a long sigh inside his head.
“I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
The world flashed a blinding white. Tommy screwed his eyes shut,
and stumbled.
Fear coursed through him as he helplessly anticipated the fall, the wind rushing past him as he plummeted—
But instead, he simply caught himself. He quickly regained his footing on what felt like flat, solid ground, and opened his eyes.
He stood in a white, cloudy void. The cathedral was gone, the statues were gone.
The only thing he could see was a man, tall with curly brown hair.
He looked exactly like one of the men depicted in the statues, the one on the right. Except, instead of a serene smile, his face was contorted with grief and fear.
“Tommy,” Wilbur began, “I’m sorry to drag you into this. But I need you.”
“I am one of the missing gods. And I need you to help me find the others.”