𝙽𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊 {𝙳𝚂𝙼𝙿𝚇𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁}

𝟷𝟺. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙵𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕

A/N

This is a long chapter to make up for being gone for a bit. 7k+
Seatbelts everyone :)

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ت

I have not written one word of the speech ordered by Schlatt.

At this point I'm going to wing it.

The past few days after Dream's visit his mask has haunted me. Techno's teasing smile filled the darkness. My dreams consisted of Tubbo's screams. Wilbur haunted my own halls, the days of L'manburg's own revolution becoming even darker.

Today was the 16th, the day of The Red Festival. Tubbo had barely spoken to me since our last talk. He was too busy building the stage and talking with Fundy for preparations.

I missed Tommy. And as much as I hated myself for it I missed Wilbur. Back when the days were clear and sun shinning he would give me a day off. Sometimes me and him would go to the nearby stream to talk, or simply be in each others presence without a sword in our hands.

But there was a odd kind of serenity that didn't come with those happy days. Wilbur in the halls, the dark corners of the room almost gave me some semblance of peace. No matter our differences–no matter what had happened those nights in the cave the darkness betrayed no qualms to leave me.

I stood straighter as I walked out of my home, the darkened corners giving away to the cool air of autumn. Pulling up my hood and mask farther, I started my trek to the capitol city. My sword clinked under folds of cloth.

Deciding on wearing a mask today was a calculated choice. Recently I have been more unhinged, scaring at the smallest noise or slicing at the wrong pedestrian that looked a little too much like Schlatt. Not to mention Tubbo told me that the public would be present at this event. I wasn't so keen on others seeing my face, nor my emotions.

Striding threw the streets of the lower districts was easy, the quieter folk must be crowded around the stage to witness such a event. It was clear even to me only the higherups of the capitol would be allowed in with Schlatt's reign. Not that any of them were not kind. I've met many of nobles who deign to speak to me, if only for a scoop on my predicament for the paper, or mere autographs. I shook my head, the motion cooling the hot breath in my mask. It was quite sad I thought of some of those people as friends once.

Finally seeing the gap between country homes and a high city skyline, I slipped into the alley beside me. My boots found solid ground easily. Deciding to climb once more, I kicked off the sides of stone to the roofs. Thoughts of Dream and his message crowded my vision, but I pushed them away in favor for what I would say in my speech.

I picked up my pace, swinging onto the next top to the next. My legs felt utterly refreshed. No strain or cuts were felt through my hands as I barreled on, pulling myself up with little difficulty.

I would guess it might be entirely peculiar to see a cloaked figure on the roof beside your office building. Its only a hypothesis of course. I didn't know. But running the risk of being seen out in daylight was overlaid with the advantage I had in height for my vision.

As I finalized my steps to swing to the next roof my eyes caught a man standing from a tight little cubical. His dark eyes widened at my form, talking in my coat and mask.