Chapter Text
“When I put my hands on Wilbur, I’m going to tear his head off.”
“Yes, yes, you’re angry, I get it. Stop threatening someone who isn’t here and keep walking.”
“We’ve been walking for hours!”
“Not really, the sun barely moved, I doubt it’s been a full hour.”
“I hate this.”
“For the first time, I agree with you.”
The forest just won’t reach an end. Dream and I have been walking for what feels like half a day now—at least, if you ask me—and we’re getting nowhere. And it’s all Wilbur’s fault, who had thrown us head first into a mysterious portal, like we’re part of some sort of crappy anime with a forced plot. I mean, really? Force the two of us to go into a different dimension and have to go through some epic adventure so we can get out, have the key to our success dangled in front of us just to be destroyed a few times until, in the end, we find out that all we needed was the power of friendship?
Please, I can feel the headache already.
And out of all people, of course I’m trapped here with Dream, the most infuriating man in all servers. Part of me feels like I should be thankful it is not Tommy or something, but Tommy is surprisingly easy to deal with once you get it right the first time. Dream, however, is a complete wild card that just does whatever he feels like. You tell him to go left and he’ll do a flip to the right and then dash forwards.
Whoever is in charge of this plot, please spare me. I’m begging you.
“Techno, look!”
Dream’s voice takes me out of my thoughts. He turns to me with his big green eyes and I feel the ever so slight need to cover his face with something, anything. I am not a simp, but the guy is way too good looking without his mask, with the shiny eyes and the freckles speckled over his face. His mask got lost during the dimensional trip, though he doesn’t seem too bothered about showing his face around.
“Doesn’t this look familiar?” He says, showing me a poster that is, indeed, familiar.
It is mostly blue, with a smiling man in armor in the middle and the word “Gabriel” written under it. Under that name, is a paragraph about a building competition and how the winner will get to meet the “brave swordsman who killed the Ender Dragon.” For some reason, I can feel dread filling me as my mind works to connect the dots. Then it works a little more to even accept the possibility.
While all that happens, Dream looks at me with amusement, but I can see how he fidgets, moving from one foot to the other, nimble fingers playing with the paper of the poster. He bites his bottom lip and I know that he knows what I just figured.
“... I’m going to end Wilbur.”
Behold! A Meme!
