There is Nothing above the Sky [Dream SMP x Reader]

15 | Let us rejoice and be glad

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He blinked slowly and tried to move his fingers, but he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't feel anything in his body, apart from his face.

And the hand brushing through his hair.

This hand was soft, and traced a bewitching rhythm over her head. The movement was tender, a tenderness he associated with only one person, Lady Eden.

He could hear sounds, but they were not intrusive, on the contrary. The breeze moved and made its soft sound, it played with the leaves and the grass. Nature was gently awakened by this morning wind, the pleasant rays of the sun were beginning to show themselves, timidly.

Close to his ears he could hear the rustle of a cloth and by tilting his head slightly he could see a white garment.

White?

His head was resting on the thighs of the person who was stroking his hair, and he didn't know how to react. He still couldn't bend his head to look at her, which frustrated him even more.

But then a white feather gently descended towards his nose, gently fluttering over his eyes before nestling on his face. This feather was soft, as soft as the surrounding environment... as soft as the mysterious person's hand. Or rather, the hand of Lady Eden.

"Am I dead ?"

"I don't think so."

He revelled in her attentions, while slowly coming to terms with the situation. He's been praying for one year for this situation to happen, and he's grateful for it. However, he'd prefer if he had full control over his limbs.

"Don't fret, George, your presence here is already a miracle.

He finally looked up at her, and asked, "You can read my thoughts ?"

"No, unfortunately", she chuckled, "But you've been glaring at your fingers for the past five minutes. Not that your frown isn't cute, but I'd rather see you wearing a smile."

"You know what would make me happy ?"

"What ?"

"That you remain with me", he mumbled, closing his eyes, "You know, I even thought about cutting your wings some days. On the days where loneliness was the most encompassing. On the days where even my closest friends weren't there."

"I know, George."

"No you don't ! It's a mess down there ! Everyone is dying or killing, going crazy over some stupid deity. Sapnap is isolating himself, driven mad by the disappearance of his fiancé. And Dream has gotten even worse ! You don't know anything, or you would have come to help me !", he snapped, tears forming in his eyes, "I prayed every night, on my knees in front of the altar I built with my bare hands. For you. I did it all for you, and you know I would do it again."

"George, please calm down. Let me explain –"

He kept ranting, "You're just sitting here, enjoying your quiet life while people die down there ! I was dying, Lady Eden ! Do you think I know how to use a sword ? Do you think I'm even able to use a sword after losing an eye ? Did you enjoy watching Tommy die at the hands of Dream ? Watching me cry every day to the stars ? Waiting for you to come ?"

"George, I'm not able to get out of the Aether. Or to invite anyone. I can only watch and suffer. Endure your pain. Notch is keeping me there, and I haven't seen him since the day you came here... practically two years ago."

"Then why am I here ?"

"I don't know, George. As a medium, you're only able to follow Notch. Someone must have sent you there... or perhaps, similarly to the two other Overworldians who visited me, you lost a life. But you look unhurt."

"People visited you ?"

"I don't think it's the Necromancer, he's busy with his new familiar. It couldn't be Notch either... he's obviously against anyone coming..."

"People came to the Aether after me ?"

"Two of them, Schlatt and Tubbo, yes."

He whispered, "People who aren't me met you. Saw you. People got to live through what I've been dreaming of experiencing because they... lost a life ?", he stared at his hands, "I should have––"

"Please don't end this sentence. What matters is that you're here, now. And there are other means of coming to the Aether, George. Through a Glowstone Portal for example."

"An Aether portal... made of glowstone. Like the one Eret showed me in his castle."

Her hands stilled on his face. "A portal in the Dream SMP ? Is it the one Niki used ? I thought she destroyed it..."

"Yes. But it's extinguished. Do you- do you know how to activate it ?"

"I do."

"Then tell me !"

"I won't."

"I once read that you can grant any wish if something of the same value is given in return. Can I exchange my memories of the Dream SMP for knowledge about you ?"

She sighed and slowly closed his eyes with her hands. He started to feel dizzy. "Goodnight, George."

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"Drop water in the portal. A blue transparent and motionless film will appear over it. To activate it, you have to throw your most precious possession/person through it. Only then will the Aether accept your sacrifice and welcome you. But don't forget that you're a stranger, an invader. And the Aether inhabitants will treat you as such so –"

He skimmed over the following chapters after writing down the instructions. Philza already found a portal for them, in a tundra, and now he knew how to ignite it. The only remaining step is to find 'his most precious possession', as his two most cherished people were... unavailable. Philza was flying over the world, trying to reach his sons. And (Y/N) was dead.

But not for too long. Technoblade wouldn't wait for Philza's return to get to the Aether.

<Why are you so slow>

<So f*cking useless>

<Ignite the portal. Ignite it.>

<He doesn't have a precious possession ! He doesn't have anything !>

<Technoblade who destroys everything, even the people he 'loves' >

He had an important object, something he hid carefully in his cape. The small painting of them three, labelled by (Y/N) herself: 'Techno, Phil and (Y/N). Forever together !'

But will he be able to throw it out so carelessly ? After a thousand years of protecting it ?

<Just say you can't do it>

<Unable to do anything>

<But kill the people round him>

<And the mobs too !>

<Why would (Y/N) want to see you ? >

<She's probably happy, since she's far from you >

The voices were slowly getting muffled by the blood rushing in his ears. He has taken to his piglin form these past few centuries, and he could feel the fur on his body bristle.

He would sacrifice this picture, for it was nothing in front of (Y/N)'s revival. And when she's back, they'll be able to paint so many more. They will have all eternity to paint others, after all.