Chapter Text
Tubbo awoke to daisies spilling from the corner of his lips and falling onto the splintering wood floor of the cart. The remnants of a dream still lingered in his mind, all vague shapes and colours, but he made no effort to grasp at them. As his mind drifted back from the fog of sleep, he began to register the gentle rock and bump of cart wheels against the cobbled road. The soft sound of horse hooves trotting along the path.
He grimaced and spat petals onto the floor, wiping the residue off his mouth with his sleeve. Opposite him, Tommy was out cold, lying in a sprawled heap and dribbling onto the cloth bundled under his head. The way he slept reminded Tubbo of those rodents that lived under the cabin, all scruffy and twitchy, balled up like newspaper between the foundations. Yet Tommy was supposedly the most human of all of them, with no hybrid features whatsoever, and magic you could roll your eyes at. It seemed unfair to Tubbo.
Eyeing the front of the cart, Tubbo caught himself longing to see the silhouette of his eldest brother at the reins of the horse, framed by the wooden slats of the window. He could almost hear that faint, hypnotic humming that Wilbur did when he was concentrating on something, magic leaking into his voice involuntarily. It was a sound Tubbo couldn’t help miss, as his brother’s voice always managed to quell the anxiety that pooled in his stomach.
This time it was just him and Tommy on the long road to Kingdom Hypixel, familiar yet changed. It felt poetic. It felt mundane.
The shift from gravelled dirt to stone road was audible and Tubbo perked up at the change. He scrambled to look out through the back hatch of the cart, hoping to catch a glimpse of the towering outer walls before entering.
Those walls felt oddly distinct in his mind, signalling his return to the kingdom. It had been so long, almost too long at this point since the last visit. But listening to the sound of the carriage wheels as they transferred from the wooden slats of the draw bridge to the smooth brick of the street, felt like a tune known by heart.
The contrast of the deep woods around the kingdom into the bustling city-space always gave Tubbo whiplash. Something about not seeing people for miles, then all at once being surrounded by them just hit something deep inside him. Being raised in the snowy tundra away from civilization tended to do that to a person. He could tell Tommy felt the same as he tore his eyes away from the scenery long enough to see his brother drag himself out of sleep to gaze curiously out the window.
Their nearby village was almost entirely human, with the few exceptions of hybrid children having been swiftly adopted into Phil’s nest. Here, there were hybrids at every turn. Hypixel was not only one of the largest kingdoms in the continent, but it also boasted the highest hybrid to human ratio, almost 1 in 3. It was a hub of merchants, entertainers and most importantly, skilled warriors. It was a complete culture shock to him each and every time, and the intense supervision he got from Phil on these visits didn’t exactly help him relax and explore the new setting.
Phil had been like a shield for them the first time they came to visit. He kept them tucked under raven-black wings, avoiding any unnecessary conversation from locals if he could help it, yet maintaining a cheery demeanour for whoever approached. Their dad was all polite smiles on the outside, but fiercely protective to his core, never letting them out of his sight.
Now they were on their own, just him and Tommy for the first time in his life. He loved his family to the nether and back, but there was something so exhilarating about being let off the leash for once. He felt free, bordering on overwhelmed from all the opportunities.
They didn’t make it ten minutes into the kingdom gates before the carriage was forced to a stop.
“Out,” a rough voice barked, kicking a leg against the carriage door.
“Oi! What the fuck?” Tommy snapped from the front of the cart, glaring at the offending figure.
Tubbo was immediately on high alert, considering drawing the training sword he had brought on the guy and preparing a snarl, but then he caught sight of the man’s uniform. Pristine black military pants and shirt, collared and accented with a formal-looking trim. He had shining iron armour over his shoulders, wrists and shins, and was armed to the teeth with weapons.
The sight left Tubbo momentarily frozen as he realised threatening an apparent soldier would not be the ideal first impression he could give this city of him. His hesitance was enough opportunity for the soldier to grab him by the collar and yank him out of the carriage.
“Ow, hey!” he squeaked, stumbling onto the cobbled street. He huffed, brushing himself off when the offending hands released him. A quick glance upwards revealed that the guard was accompanied by a whole gang of armoured men, each wearing similar outfits, only distinguishable by their different coloured sleeves or the occasional medal on their chest.
The one who manhandled him wore white sleeves and a bandanna to match, glaring down at him with a fiery gaze. “You too,” he called to Tommy, not making any attempt to grab the boy after already having made an example of Tubbo.
His brother scowled, eyeing the group of men, but complied with the demand. He slinked out of the carriage and stood by his brother’s side protectively. It was an endearing gesture, but ultimately useless since both boys combined couldn’t take on all five of the soldiers at once.
“Sorry, did we do something wrong?” Tubbo spoke up, ears falling flat against his head. Despite himself, he tried to seem innocent and well-meaning, remembering what Wilbur taught him about diplomacy.
The guard seemed amused by the display and he grinned a fang-toothed smile at him. “Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what the boss thinks.”
Tubbo gave Tommy a sideways glance, curious about his impression from the guard. Tommy could read people's magic aura, a skill that was only ever used in times and places like this. He didn’t manage to grab his brother's attention, however, as Tommy seemed locked in a glaring match with the white-sleeved guard.
“They’re literally in a supply cart, not a passenger carriage. They could be hiding something,” one of the other uniformed men piped up, although the cheerful grin and the way he leaned casually against his fighting staff told Tubbo he wasn’t taking the accusation seriously. This soldier appeared human enough, although the mismatched eyes and fungi growing around his hair and cheeks gave away something more. He wore blue sleeves, which seemed a size too big, flopping over his hands.
A third soldier laughed and elbowed the spear-wielder. “George, be nice. These are guests here. We should show them around.” The figure was ash-skinned, with two pitch-black sleeves and a hood covering two long horns protruding from his forehead.
“You’re not doing shit to us,” Tommy huffed, bunching his fists at his side. “We’re here perfectly legally. I've got the paperwork to prove it, too.”
“Oh yeah? Lemme see it?” the soldier with the bandanna hummed, stepping forwards.
“Perfectly legal, my ass,” the spear-wielder - George, apparently - said.
“That’s enough,” a voice cut through the commotion, silencing everyone around him in an instant.
The figure cutting through the group wasn’t particularly tall, nor muscular, and wore the same armour as the rest of them, but the way they all stood at attention and moved aside to let him pass told Tubbo he was the ‘boss’ the first guard was referring to. The man’s uniform had green sleeves underneath, and he wore a distinct white porcelain mask over his face. It was a little unsettling to Tubbo, sure, but not nearly enough to warrant the sharp, almost pained gasp that escaped Tommy.
He glanced to the side in confusion, alarmed by his brother's visceral reaction. That could only mean one thing, from what he’d seen from his brother in the past. Tommy was sensing a powerful magical signature coming from this man.
Not wanting to fuck with that, Tubbo straightened his back and tried to seem as innocent as possible in front of the head soldier. The gesture was ultimately useless, however, as the masked man seemed entirely focused on Tommy, his mask merely passing over Tubbo.
“Okay,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “You two, explain yourselves.”
Tommy seemed to regain some sensibility, snapping out of his shocked state enough to fix a glare at the authority. “The fuck do you mean? You guys are the ones cornering us. We’re just visitors. Legal, visitors!” He took a shaky breath, not taking his eyes off the masked man.
Tubbo side-eyed his brother carefully, not trusting him to sensibly talk this one out while in a panicked state. “We’re here to visit someone,” he supplied calmly.
“I see,” the soldier droned, not taking his gaze off Tommy. “And who might that be? A citizen? Trainee?”
“Techno,” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms. “Check your records, or whatever. He’s expecting us.”
Even with the smiling ceramic mask obscuring the man’s face, Tubbo could feel the tense look him and his brother were getting. The air turned sharp, and Tommy cringed against it, sensing something Tubbo couldn’t. His brother's hands twitched and bunched the fabric of his cargo pants, a habit he had picked up ever since he stopped covering his ears when he was distressed.
“Techno? As in Technoblade? You came here to watch Technoblade?” the soldier raised an eyebrow, muttering their brother's name like it was a poor taste in music.
“Not just watch him, dickhead. He’s our brother, we’re here as escorts,” he said, annunciating the last word with the jut of his chin.
The masked man's eyes narrowed and he seemed to consider Tommy for a moment longer, really drawing out the tense silence. “I don’t believe you. He’s never mentioned you before.”
“Probably fans,” the blue-sleeved soldier piped up, smirking at the pair.
Tubbo glowered under his gaze, longing to wipe that petty smile from his face. He was reaching his limit with this confrontation. “We’ve visited before,” he said through gritted teeth.
“And, what, you’re his best friend or something? You know everything about him?” Tommy snapped, bunching his fists at his side.
“Hey, easy now,” the white-sleeved guard warned, holding a hand up. “Calm down kids, we just need to do a background check.”
“Bullshit-“
“Tommy, stop,” Tubbo cut in, then whispered sharply, “sooner we answer these guys, the sooner we see Techno.”
His brother simmered with irritation, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the soldiers. “Fine. What else d’you want? And who the fuck are you guys anyway?”
“Language,” the demon-featured guard chirped, earning an utterly baffled look from Tommy.
The soldier in green stood back and regarded Tommy with his blank-faced smile. “To you, border patrol. To the kingdom, only the most skilled group of fighters they have,” he said with pride in his voice.
“So, what, you’re on some kind of menial mission the king gave you to keep you occupied before the next war?” Tubbo hummed, raising an eyebrow coolly.
“We were in the area,” he shrugged. “You caught my partner’s eye, so we investigated. But I see now you’re of no threat to us in the slightest.”
Tommy looked ready to challenge that, always keen to become a threat if need be, but immediately shrunk away as the masked man extended a hand to him.
“I’m Dream,” he hummed, leaving the hand extended and seemingly relishing the fear it struck into his brother. When it was clear Tommy wouldn’t be going anywhere near Dream, he dropped it. “I’ll be seeing you two around if you are who you claim you are.”
“Fuck, I hope not,” Tommy shuddered. He grabbed Tubbo harshly by the wrist and pulled him back into the carriage. The last thing he saw before the door slammed shut was Dream moving to walk away, while the rest of his gang eyed the two kids almost hungrily.
“What the actual fuck,” Tommy practically shouted, his whole body still trembling from the utter shock that man had inflicted upon him. “What the fuck!?"
“Tommy it’s okay, I know he was like, a 10 on the power scale or whatever, but he’s not gonna hurt you,” Tubbo murmured back, doing his best at being reassuring, although his own panic tended to leak into his voice. “There’s laws here that stop that. Even if he is the law. Probably.”
The pair were walking through the more suburban part of the kingdom, making their way away from the outer walls, towards the main ring of the city where the soldier and championship training was held. The two facilities seemed to blur together. Either way, that was where Techno was, and Techno meant safety. Something Tommy desperately needed at that moment.
“No no no Tubbo, you don’t understand,” Tommy whimpered, eyes wild and scared. “That man was fucked up. Like, thoroughly fucked up. It was him. I know it was him because I didn’t feel it until he showed up.”
“What are you talking about?” Tubbo frowned, concern swirling in his eyes. When he brushed a hand through his knotted hair, his hand came back tangled in thorns and blossoms.
Tommy took a shaky breath, comforted by the gentle buzz of Tubbos magic. His iron grip around his arms loosened only slightly and he took a moment to gather his racing thoughts into something coherent. “When- when that guy Dream showed up, everything went quiet. Like, everything was making Noise before, cos all of those fuckers were full of enough magic to make my damn head spin, but he- he was like, the Absence of power. It was like someone shoved me in a room and sucked all the air out of it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense-“ Tubbo frowned.
“It doesn’t!” he agreed, voice cracking. “But it’s true! It’s true, I felt it. It felt like nothing and it was fucking horrible. I couldn’t even see his eyes, but he was staring at me the whole time. I know it.”
Tubbo recoiled slightly, eyebrows etched together worriedly. “So this Dream guy is bad news, yeah? We’ll just avoid him.”
Tommy shook his head and frowned. “I’d rather do more than just avoid him, Tubbo. I wanna know what the fuck he is. People don’t just have no noise unless they have no magic. They especially don’t muffle it out. He’s like cotton, Dream is. He’s like cotton in your ears.”
“Okay okay, I get it,” Tubbo wrenched his brother’s hands away from his arms, only then did Tommy realise he was gripping his biceps hard enough to bruise. “Okay, so, what about the others then? Before Dream showed up, what was the read on them?”
The change in topic seemed to draw Tommy out of his own panicked thoughts a little and he wrinkled his nose in thought. “Um…yeah some of them are pretty powerful, especially the last guy. The, uh, demon one. I don’t think he was even a hybrid, just pure mob.”
He thought back to the four of them surrounding him. The shock of having so many Powers around him after spending so long isolated in the tundra was already enough to put him on edge. But he could handle it, or at least he did until that fucking masked bitch showed up.
“The, uh, the guy with the different coloured eyes actually sounded a lot like you, but like, slightly off, if that makes sense? He didn’t really buzz like you, more…” Tommy waved a hand about as he tried to articulate himself. “Like a high-pitched drone.
“Then, the navy one with the gas mask had a weird hissing sound. Not too powerful, but you saw how jacked he was.”
Tubbo smiled, amused by Tommy’s descriptions. “And the last guy?”
“Uh…fire?” Tommy mumbled, “Just…crackling fire. He’s got power but not, like, Techno power.”
“You say that about everyone though. I feel like you’ve started big and just worked your way down.”
“Seems like,” he shrugged. “Who knew Phil hoarded all the powerhouses. He probably hand-picked us or something.”
“Don’t say that,” Tubbo elbowed him, rolling his eyes. “Picked us for what, anyway? Farming potatoes and doing house chores.”
“Damn right. Best potatoes in the tundra. Oh Prime, Techno’s gonna interrogate the shit out of me about his farm, isn’t he?”
His brother giggled, “one hundred percent.” He seemed to hesitate a moment as if choosing his words carefully, but then thought better of it and shook his head. “You wanna get food first or just go straight to Techno?”
“Um…food sounds good. Then we can bring Techno something for lunch, as a bribe for being late.”
“Oh yeah, we are late, aren’t we,” Tubbo muttered, pulling a small gold clock out of his pants pocket.
“Mmhm.”
Eleven bells chimed. He knew them distinctly.
The long string of chimes brought him to a stop so he could perk up an ear and listen, counting each one in his head. The habit, the small familiar action, was enough to ground his mind back into reality.
Coming back to himself wasn’t easy. His thoughts dipped and surfaced in his mind like a turbulent sea, one moment tangible, the next lost in the depths of his subconscious. It felt like drifting through memory. It felt like dreaming.
He could hear the chiming.
The first thing Ranboo registered as his consciousness finally dragged through the fog of reality was the light singe of water droplets against his bare feet. He wrinkled his nose in discomfort and lazily ran a hand through his hair. Grass and dirt prickled under his palms and he cringed.
The next thing he realised was that he was outside.
The shadow from the towering castle wall had almost fully receded, letting sunrays streak through the dappled trees and dance off the freshly watered grass. He could hear bird chatter and the trickle of a nearby fountain, the faint sound of footsteps growing distantly away from him.
Ranboo blinked rapidly as his thoughts caught up with him, finding deep gaps in his memory where the previous few hours should be. He knew the fog at this point, and it wasn’t from the drag of lingering sleep, even if the flashes of colour and sound that felt just out of his reach reminded him of dreaming.
Shaking off his anxieties, Ranboo did a quick body scan to ground himself. His pants were a little scuffed at the knees and his ribs were bruised, which would concern him more if he weren’t a seasoned athlete. Those bruises could easily be from a slip up on the course, which was nothing to worry about. Other than that, Ranboo was unscathed. No blood, nothing on his person he didn’t remember owning, no one staring at him strangely.
He considered this a win.
Almost subconsciously, his hand flew to his pocket and he drew out his memory book. Sitting on the grass, in the middle of the courtyard, Ranboo scrawled out his strange awakening. It was a habit at this point to scribe first and think later. Not that there wouldn’t be a lot of thinking to be done later.
For now, though, training had long since started, if those chimes told him anything. He had a job to do.