The Trolley Problem ()

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When chapters are linked like as in two marts they will alternate between () and [] so you can tell. :)

"Wait we can't seriously kill him to make ourselves better can we?" Fundy questioned, Dream stopped struggling. He was suddenly aware of how much weight this had. "I mean doesn't that make us worse?"

Philza cut in, voice actually a little wobbly. For the first time since Jack died he sounded unsure of himself, "Wait, I think it makes in equal?"

Nikki grinned, "Anyone got a knife?"

"Nikki what the hell!" Schlatt called out, finding it in him to stand up to yank the book out of her hands. "You can't be serious."

"I mean I wasn't gonna act immediately open to it but I agree. Dream's killed a whole city of my people, I think it's fair." Quackity shrugged, Sapnap smirked.

"You're a lot different then I remember. Still afraid of the dark?"

"Only while he's still breathing." Quackity shot back, and everyone looked at a quiet Dream.

Purpled wasn't even paying attention in depth, he covered Tubbo's ears and nestled the top of his head. Even with the whole being a ex mercenary thing, Purpled acted surprisingly fatherly.

"Tubbo why don't you go visit Wil I bet he missed you!" Purpled released him with fake excitement, and the bright eyed brunette sped off in that direction. He stopped to wave goodbye to everyone, and then bounced down the spruce pathway. Purpled scowled, "You guys can't say that around him! It's false hope, and Tubbo doesn't need that."

"So you're opposed?"

Ranboo what do I do?

This parts up to you, not me.

Yeah fuck you too.

Do you want to speak to the others? Maybe don't talk to yourself?

"Guys we should really get all of the others in on this too, it's not just us."

Schlatt crossed his arms and groaned, "But Wil is too smart for this shit ima fall behind."

They walked towards L'manburg anyway, thoughts of murder and morality in their heads.

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Connor didn't remember exactly when he passed out, he just remembered seeing people rush to him and felt unimaginable pain. Not just the damn leg, but the damn good friend he lost. Not just the damn good friend, but the murderer he lost so pathetically too.

And the fact that he lost because of a glorified rock wasn't making him feel any better. Sam had said death would be likely, but that was just fucked up. The way Ant died was fucked up, being taunted by Dream was fucked up.

Connor hadn't wanted to cry in a very, VERY long time, but now seemed like a great opportunity for a mental breakdown. Hell it was handed to him on a silver platter, the perfect moment.

His normally neatly combed brown hair was folded over roughly in at least six different directions. The fire in his normally fierce brown eyes was gone, replaced with melancholy. Things had been going great. Eret and him had moved here a year ago, and some months later Puffy came outta nowhere...

It was nice, now he felt like shit.

There wasn't even any reliable source of comfort when Karl wobbled in with two injured men. One was Wilbur, who quickly caught his eye and rushed over.

Karl chased after him, arms struggling to hold onto the other's side. "You pulled something there's internal bruising-"

"I got stabbed big whoop anyway Connor what's popping?" Wilbur slid into a chair, a strange energy in his step. Connor just looked at him, confused. He almost looked new, despite the bruises. Wil seemed to glow a little, and there was a faint outline of luminescent tears on his face.

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