Ending 2

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Spifey's POV:
Just an hour after we left the building, 2 survivors were uncovered from the ruins.  Tommy and Bad. Immediately, they were rushed to the hospital, where Bad died just 20 minutes after. The virus got him before he could even be treated.

I remembered that day vividly. Skeppy had rushed there, practically trampling everyone in the process. But it was too late. He had died a couple minutes before Skeppy even arrived. And the aftermath. That was the most devastating part.

On the other hand, Tommy had survived. He stumbled out of the burning building, arising from the flames like a soldier. A thick, red coat was slung over his shoulder, a mask in his hand. Since his surgery, he had hardly uttered a single word. It was almost as if he went mute.

It's been a few weeks since then. Agreements have been made and we were paid reparations for the troubles. The city is still under reconstructions, which was going along nicely. New laws and occupations were instilled. Civilization is really rebuilding itself.

And today, today was an important day. The first time we'll all meet up in weeks.

Sapnap's POV:
"Are you ready, George?" I whispered softly, knocking against the hard, oak door, "everyone else will be there."

No reply. Complete silence.

I found myself inhaling a little. I glanced upwards, preventing my tears from spilling.

"Please come out. You have to go. He would have wanted you to be there."

More silence. It was deafening.

With a sigh, I slumped against the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. I leaned into the door, before closing my eyes.

"I'll even beg. Just come out...please..." I murmured.

After a couple more moments of wordless exchange, I got up slowly, turning to leave. The sinking feelings of grief and dejection stirred within me.

"He hasn't left the room for days now..." I thought, fists clenching a little. If he dies, I would have no one else.

Just then, the door creaked open from behind. Timid footsteps approached me.

I felt a pair of arms go around my body, hugging from behind. Warm.

"Oh George..." I murmured, trailing off. Turning around, I embraced him back, tears spilling down my face.

He began to sob, clutching my back as if his life depended on it.

"Dream..." he breathed out, "I want Dream back..."

Phil's POV:
We were the first. First ones here.

The 3 large gravestones were erected in the center of the yard. Each one had a sculpture adorned atop it. A symbolic figure.

Pushing gently, I slowly moved Tommy closer to the structures. The wheelchair sailed gracefully across the grassy meadow floor. Wilbur followed close behind.

Upon reach, Tommy lightly traced his fingers against the stone. It was the one with a crown. A soft breath escaped his lips.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Wilbur said gently, turning toward the blonde. Tommy didn't reply, just continued staring.

Glancing up, I murmured softly, almost whispering to the sky, "It is, just like Techno would've wanted."

Wilbur laughed humorlessly, "he once told me he wanted a potato carved into his grave, actually."

I just smiled fondly in response.

Tommy, however, was still. He just slipped his eyes shut, exhaling as he did. A feeling of grief and bitterness seemed to wash through him.

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