𝙽𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊 {𝙳𝚂𝙼𝙿𝚇𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁}

𝟷𝟽. 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙰𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚜

A/N

2 smaller chapters out now, i'm working on the finale of the revolution. It will be out soon :)

ت

By the time the sun rose over the peaks over Pogtopia, I had risen from a restless sleep.

It was only just 6am. Though no one was awake yet, but I had an odd feeling pricking the back off my neck. It must have been my paranoia, but I felt eyes on me.

I shook it off in my pacing. My wounds had healed during the night. Only slight bruises covered my leg from the amount of potions Nikki shoved down my throat, and my head held few stitches.

What I really needed to focus on was the war coming. I knew there was no way Schlatt would let this go, so when Tubbo came to my bedside late last night to inform me of the declaration I wasn't surprised. They set the fight for dawn tomorrow. Deep down I knew Dream would be fighting alongside Schlatt. I hated him and he hated me, I hated that there was something in me that wanted his help in this. The dark called. If I was participating in this war he would be too, I just wished he wasn't against us.

I didn't want to be grouped up in collateral damage of a team though. There was a high chance that tomorrow we would die. I blocked out images of my own knife taking a life, my own blade cutting across skin. My life was the top priority now, but lately I've still had that silly honor blocking my way.

"Why are you up so early love?"

I whipped my head to the voice. Wilbur leaned over the banister above me, looking down with curious gold eyes. My heart thundered, mentally checking the heartbeats in the cavern. Tommy in bed recovering still, Nikki asleep in the chair beside Techno's mattress, Quackity holed up in the stalks of potatoes using a sack for warmth, Tubbo fallen asleep watching over his friend. There was no one here. But my eyes narrowed at Wil when I found one signature missing. Techno wasnt even in the compound.

No one was near me. On utter instinct my boot shifted to find the knife still strapped to my ankle. I swallowed as he gave a lighthearted smirk, no doubt understanding my uneasy contempt.

"Thinking." I replied soundly, taking measurable steps away from where he was descending the stairs. I kept my back to him, and I cracked my knuckles in front of me. Those seemingly unending days in that cell came back to me, those days locked in that house, broken hands and dislocated thumbs. I counted each finger to my right thumb.

1 2 3 4. 1 2 3 4. Repeat.

Wilbur's voice carried in light echoes, making it all the more daunting. It was like he was everywhere. "I just wanted to let you know how thankful I was at the festival. You finally understand my meaning here, you agreed with-"

"I never agreed-"

"Lair," He purred. In a small step he made his way before me, his arms encapsulated me into a lovely hug. Wilbur's nose dug into my neck above me, his breath warm. "You called out that phrase because you wanted too." I shivered and he noticed, only holding tighter. "You can deny it all you want but you still feel something."

I couldn't breathe. No. Fuck.

He's right you know

fuck that, she should have left

Like calls to like...

I never answered him. A bang on the front door clattered and Wilbur reluctantly slid off of me, but raised a hand in front of my torso. He whispered low, eyes fixated on the door knob. "Who is it y/n?"