𝙽𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊 {𝙳𝚂𝙼𝙿𝚇𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁}

𝟷𝟸. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚅𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚕

A/N

Make sure to vote at the end :) Even if your chosen is winning it can be taken over!!

ت

Same Time, Dream

Dream ducked under the wind whipped branches of the forest curious on to why George had called him here. It wasn't peculiar that they would meet, but they usually preferred a secluded household or nighttime alley- not to mention Sapnap was currently staking out L'manberg per Dream's orders.

He hadn't told George or Sapnap of his plan, no matter how much it was shifting. Prolonging the rebellion was one of his long term goals at the moment, not that his friends knew. Not to mention a secret project he had long in the works for someone. Dream was allied with Schlatt, but the three were skeptical of his character. And that's exactly why Sapnap was sent to spy. The only question Dream had was why he was to be called here.

The blond stopped in his tracks at a small clearing, the trees curling into themselves to escape the weather. Dream pulled up his mask higher scanning the field.

A noisy sound of turned dirt announced George's presence. He looked like a complete idiot Dream thought, dressed in presidential attire. But the dark haired man still kept his white lined glasses, pushing them farther up his nose.

The masked male shifted to the side picking at the tall grass before him. "Why call me here George?" Dream skipped formality.

His clout goggles shined faintly against his lantern, sputtering a warm haze across his face. George took an audible breath, "Wilbur has contacted me."

Dream's eyes silted though his friend couldn't see. "Why." Less of a question, more of a command. Wilbur was a smart man. He had to know–if not knew that Dream wanted both parties weak in a upcoming conflict. So why contact him? He certainly would be no help in gaining back his beloved nation.

Wind snapped at the lantern's fire guttering it. George took a small envelope from his pocket examining it as if it was for the first time. "I was done with my duties for the day–coming back here actually, when Wilbur tracked me down." Dream tilted his head slightly at the little letter held together with a melted red stamp. George continued handing the paper out to him, "He gave me this... for you.

Dream reached out slowly his fingerless gloves meeting the parchment. The blond sighed looking up to him, "And you haven't opened it?"

George shook his head, "Wilbur made sure I didn't." The male paused to knit his eyebrows together, "Dream, he seemed... frantic–crazed even. Be weary of whatever that contains okay?"

His concern flattered him to be honest. Dream knew everything about everyone, their pitfalls and strengths. Wilbur Soot would never be a problem–never again.

The man watched as George left him taking his lantern and with him the light. Shrouded in darkness, Dream broke open the letter using the moonlight to read. The paper was too thin, too dirty and worn.

Hello Dream.

You seem to be fighting for conflict. You seem to be fighting for our weakness.

I can help with that.

Meet me soon and bring TNT.