Inception {Dreamnotfound}

12 | Warning Signs | 12

-Zak's POV-

Those bands don't look normal.

The grey looks almost white, noticeably lighter on one side than the other, unlike the usual bands. The black looks normal at first, but upon closer inspection, it appears to be covered in tiny cracks. It's like it was pieced together, made up of individual fragments.

As if it was broken...

That's my band. George must've found it.

And that boy is Tubbo, the older barely visible beside him evidently George, only made obvious by the white-rimmed goggles laying on the floor beside him. The entire room looks familiar, clearly somewhere deep within the forest. Similar to the old elite assassin camps.

Another scream echoes from Tubbo, the final thing I hear before the scene fades away. It takes me a while to open my eyes, still too confused and disturbed by what I just witnessed. My legs refuse to hold me, leaving me a crumbled, shivering mess in the middle of the cobbled street.

When I find the strength to look up, I notice someone else in a strangely similar condition. The leader of the group, much to my surprise, surrounded by a mass of other members, all stunned and confused.

It makes me feel slightly better to know that what just happened must've made no more sense to anyone else. Everything was so sudden, over in barely a minute but it felt so much longer.

That place was definitely one of the old elite assassin camps. The third one, I think, on the west side of the city. None of those earlier camps have been used in a while, making them the perfect place to stay.

I'm dragged back out of my thoughts by movement in the room I was watching over. They're all uncertain, moving more in blind panic. I decide I have to move closer now, incase I overheard something that might explain whatever just happened. Anything they come up with will most likely be guesses, but it's better than nothing.

Why did that happen? And why to us?

"Sir, are you alright?" I manage to make out after edging a little closer, staying just within earshot out of fear of being spotted if I venture any further. "It's that kid," the leader groans, and even just the sound of his voice is enough to make me feel sick. I wish I'd tried to kill him while I had the chance, rid this world of him permanently.

"What kid?" a few members ask at once. They look between each other in confusion, faces all unreadable under those masks. "That one Techno looks after," the leader responds groggily. "Tubbo."

They know who Tubbo is?

I thought Tubbo was kept quiet. That he stayed in that old building with Fundy so that people couldn't find out he was there. Techno insisted there was always someone watching over the place, adamant that Tubbo was to be kept safe as a top priority, no matter what.

"I should've killed that kid too while I had the chance," the leader spits suddenly, a hand clutching at his cloaked head. My own is still spinning, making it hard to focus on the scene around me. Everything looks slightly blurry, but it's dramatically better than what I went through merely minutes before.

"Anyone who stays around Techno seems to cause problems. That other kid would've, had he lived to see today." It takes me a few moments to piece together all of the new information, but I eventually realise what these people are actually responsible for.

Techno had a set of friends before meeting Fundy and forming the elite assassins. There were three of them, I think, two adults and a teenager. I can't remember any names, or Techno speaking of any of them much more than that. All I remember is one crucial detail: all three of them were murdered, and Techno never found out the identities of the people who did it.

This group did.

These people killed Techno's friends.

"They're in that third camp, the west one," the leader groans, and I'm silently glad I was right. Yet horrified, upon realising that these people now know where Tubbo is.

There's nothing stopping them from doing to George, Tubbo and anyone else with them what they did to Techno's old friends. Nothing stopping them from becoming the group's next victims, and nothing to warn them before it's too late.

I hope for the best, but already expect the worst.

In the back of my mind, I'm already planning for it, calculating carefully my next moves if they attempt to do what I fear they will. There's a good chance they will if only for answers, but I know these people better than that. They'll kill every last one of them if it takes that to get what they want.

"What did you see?" they all ask expectantly to their leader, desperately wanting the same answers as me. I'm intrigued to know if they were shown the exact same thing. Presumably extremely similar if not, given what they've already described of the scene.

"It's definitely him," the leader mutters, still wincing from the pain. There's a stinging sensation in my head that I'm trying my hardest to ignore, but every throb makes the urge to be sick even worse.

I want nothing more than to leave them here, find somewhere to stay and think this over when I have a clearer head. But I know that isn't an option; I can't let any more people fall victim to this group, especially not when I could potentially prevent it.

"Shall we send people out there then?" someone else asks among the group, and a series of nods and barely audible mutters are uttered between the mass of people, sending them all darting in different directions. I ready myself to leave as soon as I learn their intentions, wanting to know what exactly they're planning first.

"Definitely. I want that kid brought back to me. Alive, and that's a demand. You do not let either of those bands of his get damaged, and you do not let that kid die. Understood?" A chorus of 'yes sir' is murmured back among the crowd, people grabbing supplies and reaching for weapons. I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"And what about the rest of them?" someone suddenly asks. "He won't be alone, so what happens if the others prove to be difficult?"

"Then you kill them," the leader spits back. "I saw George, Dream is probably with him. If he proves difficult, you have my permission to kill him."

"Any of them, for that matter."

That's all I need to hear.

I sprint off in the direction of the west forest, willing my still aching legs to run faster. Even with this head start, I'm not certain I'll make it there before they do. Not like this, not in this condition. But I have to at least try.

I have to warn them.