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Everything is dark. Everything is cold. He feels cold.
He’s alone.
He’s alone and it’s dark and he’s scared and where is he and why is he here and where is-
L’Manberg.
Tommy turns around, shivering. It’s not dark anymore: instead, he sees L’Manberg. Well, what’s left of it anyway. The rain is pouring hard and thunder is roaring, and Tommy thinks the sky may weep for this nation built on dreams of freedom that died twice. Or maybe it is screaming its anger at the injustice of it all.
He agrees with it, because he feels the same way.
So many thoughts are burning inside him as he’s gazing at the crater before him, a seemingly endless hole, filled with rubble and ruin from the place he once called home. He notices that from here he can see smoke still rising from the crater, and he frowns slightly more than he already was.
As he stands on top of a cliff, overlooking the aftermath of what they’d called Doomsday, he hears a quiet voice suddenly coming from behind him.
“How pitiful.”
Startled, the blond teenager whips his head around and looks through the ghost of his once friend, ally, brother mentor.
Why are you here I’m sorry it’s my fault I did it I hurt you I hurt everyone this is my fault I did this sorry sorry I’m so sorry sorry forgive me sorry
The echoing voice speaks again before Tommy can gather his many thoughts.
“Look around you. Look at what you’ve done. The hopes and dreams of everyone you cared about. Of everyone we cared about. Are you happy? Proud of yourself? Is this what you call glory?”
Tommy’s eyes widen as he hears the venom drip from his friend’s mouth, and he fully takes in the ghostperson in front of him:
Ghostbur, who was known to be the kindest person on the server. Ghostbur, who was notoriously known to be nice and patient with everyone, someone who always wore a smile on his face, looked terribly upset: his brows were furrowed, and he looked angrier than Tommy had ever seen him in the many months they’d spent together (he then thinks that he had never seen him angry at all. The thought makes him feel sick).
I’ll never see you again I’m sorry I failed you it was my fault you DIED BECAUSE OF ME I DID THIS I KILLED YOU I’M SORRY I’M SORRY IM SORY IMSORRYR IMSORY
But, most notably, he had tears in his eyes. Heavy tears, blue as lapis lazuli, were threatening to spill any second, and as Tommy tries speak up, his voice immediately cracks.
“No, Ghostbur, I-”, but he stops himself.
Because, really, who is he to deny Ghostbur? Sure, he never wanted Doomsday to happen, but at the end of the day, he was somewhat of the catalyst who started it: he was the one Technoblade wanted revenge upon, he was the one Dream fought for the discs. Yes, they both had quarrels with L’Manberg itself, but what if he could have prevented it? What if he could have prevented the end of their nation?
what if he could have prevented his friend’s death what if ghostbur didn’t die what if they were still together and happy and
Suddenly, as Tommy looks up. The world has changed again. He looks up and he sees… himself . He sees himself, up on a podium that once held his best friend's execution, and he's smiling. He looks a bit rough, sure, but he's smiling brighter than Tommy recalls, and he's giving a speech.
Tommy listens to the kid on the podium. It’s like he’s listening to a stranger.
"...but even after the hardships, the tyranny we’ve been through… Wilbur. Tubbo. After everything… It was meant to be!"
Tears start to well up in Tommy’s eyes, because the kid up there seems so happy, and excited and… hopeful. Oh, if only you knew , Tommy thinks. If only he knew what the future held, for him, for everyone, what would he have done differently? What would he have done the same? He wonders.
But it’s not the time for what ifs or would have dones . Because, as Tommy’s eyes catch his own and a heartbroken expression settles on his face, his younger voice starts to fade away and he feels a whiff of wind go past him.
He looks next to him, and Ghostbur is gone.
And he looks back up, and Ghostbur is right there.
Up there, on the podium, his face the very opposite of the bright kid on the stage, crying and distressed. Blue tears are quietly rolling down his cheeks as he asks a very simple question.
Such a simple question, but one that will haunt Tommy until his very last breath.
“Do you think you’re a hero Tommy?”
Words fail him, as the wind gets knocked out of his breath when this all too-familiar question rings in his ears. Ghostbur continues.
“Is that what this is? You think you’re the hero, and everyone else is either your sidekick or your enemy, right? But you must, oh but you must get what you want, because the hero always gets what he wants!”
He’s angry. Ghostbur never got angry.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry please forgive me
“The hero always wins, because if the hero desires so, then the hero shall receive! It doesn’t matter who has to pay! And if somebody's in your way, you just crush them and leave them behind, right? Well, I hope you had fun dragging me in the dirt until the very end!”
He’s yelling. Ghostbur never yelled at Tommy.
The world changes again. L’Manberg, it’s… back. New L’Manberg, the one Tubbo built. And Tommy’s watching from afar, like he was used to after his “forced vacation”.
However, this time, Ghostbur isn’t by his side. He’s not anywhere to be seen.
Until Tommy overhears, in the distance, an all too familiar voice, echoing all the way across the plaza. The sound is so gentle, almost as if coaxing Tommy’s ears, and for the briefest moment, he feels safe.
But he knows better, and he’s aware that this is merely just the calm before the storm.
“Come now Friend! So, this is L’Manberg. Such a lovely place, is it not? Come over here, there’s- oh! Hi Phil! Friend, say hello!”
From the distance, Tommy can make out a silhouette dressed in green, probably waving to the ghost of his long-lost son.
“So, Phil, how- oh, Friend, where are you going? You’re not a very polite sheep! Well, I have to go get him, Phil! Bye bye!”
And the world fades.
Everything is dark again. But it’s not cold anymore.
And he’s most certainly not alone.
It’s hot and he’s here and oh god why here and it’s suffocating and-
The prison cell.
The cell where everything happened.
Everything and nothing.
Creation and destruction.
Mostly destruction. And death. A lot of death.
The cell is empty. There’s not a soul in sight. He’s on the ledge of the lava, past the heavy netherite blocks meant to block off the main part of the cell. Ghostbur is back by his side, the real one.
The one who’s hurt, and sad.
The one who’s been through so much pain
The one who’s been betrayed.
Tommy feels his hand clutching something tightly in his right hand, and when he looks down, he sees a shining black axe through the blur of his tears, looking cleaner than ever, purple magic humming from within the weapon itself.
It feels deadly and wrong, but he can’t bring himself to let go.
He hears a faint sound, a sound that disturbs the morbid stillness of the bubbling lava right below him. It sounds like… something is fizzing ? His eyes immediately look for Ghostbur, who was next to him the moment before, and he sees him in his peripheral: he looks like he’s glitching, melting, disappearing into thin air.
And then, the sun.
The sun is rising behind the L’Manhole, bathing the world in its golden glory. Ghostbur looks like he’s in an immense amount of pain, and he starts walking towards Tommy. His words, much like his figure, get more distorted by the second.
“Oh, this hurts so much! I’m in so much pain Tommy! AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT Please Tommy help me! It’s getting worse, I can hear the train PLEASE SAVE ME I’M SO ALONE IT’S COLD I’M SCARED , it’s coming for me! Please Tommy please! You promised me I’d be alright, you looked me in the eyes and told me, promised me it would be okay! YOU LIED YOU LIAR IT’S YOUR FAULT YOU YOU YOU YOU ”
Blue starts leaking from Ghostbur’s eyes, but they’re not tears, it looks like a dam broke and everything is running loose, like this blue water of despair is trying to free itself from its haunting prison.
Blue drips at his feet, and his face doesn’t really look like his face anymore.
It doesn’t really look like a face at all.
Ghostbur takes another step forward. Tommy takes his first step back.
“You said it would just be a quick thing JUST LIKE HOW YOU THINK I DIED QUICKLY I DID NOT YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN , you said it’d be okay! You broke your promise Tommy! IT HURT SO MUCH IT WAS SO SLOW IT WAS LIKE BEING RIPPED TO PARTS You broke my trust! YOU KILLED ME IT WAS YOUR FAULT I DIED!”
Tommy gets shoved, and lands on the ground with a grunt, tears gathering up in his eyes again and his breaths get shorter and shorter. He sits up, and a sob immediately escapes his throat, as he sees Ghostbur again. He’s not melting or glitching this time. He’s perfectly fine.
Well… Except for the huge gash there is in his stomach. Blood the color of a deep ocean is coming out of it at an alarming rate. Ghostbur gaps, his eyes wide in shock, and slowly points at something. Tommy follows his gaze, only to find the axe yet again in his hand, fitting so perfectly it looks like it was always meant to be here.
However, it isn’t clean this time, no. It’s covered in a rather peculiar blue liquid, and OH MY GOD I KILLED HIM I DID THIS IT’S MY FAULT I’M SO SORRY I HURT YOU I WANT TO GO BACK PLEASE FORGIVE ME I DIDN’T DO THIS NO IT WAS DREAM IT WASN’T ME
Tommy can’t find anything to say.
Everything is dark once more. And it’s freezing.
He feels more alone than he has ever felt.
He’s alone and it’s dark and cold and the cold is too much and it’s damp and-
A train.
Tommy hears it before he sees it: the sound of rails creaking, the train approaching, bringing a burst of wind with it, going faster and faster, like it’s not gonna stop at the next station where Tommy is standing.
The train doesn’t stop. It simply passes by in a flash.
And as his eyes get used to the darkness, bright red neons light up behind him. There are dark silhouettes walking aimlessly around, vague murmurs coming from them. But Tommy doesn’t care about them. Instead, he’s looking at Ghostbur, as he’s being backlit by the red lights. He looks more menacing than ever, and Tommy almost falls on the rails as he takes a step back. This is dangerous, they should put up a barrier.
Ghostbur speaks up.
“See, Tommy? This is where you brought me. You lied to me, then killed me, and left me here with absolutely nothing. Every day, countless trains pass, and yet not a single one stops. I’m alone, not even Friend is here! Did you know he has infinite canon lives? Phil told me so. Every single night, I lay right here, where you’re standing, curled up on the concrete. And I cry. I cry myself to sleep, I try to burn the pain away. And if I secretly hope that one night, I’ll fall asleep a bit too close to the edge, well. No one has to know.”
Tommy visibly gulps, a thousand thoughts running through his head.
Finally, he speaks up, letting his most prominent thought out in the world.
His voice sounds wrong after crying so much.
“I… I did this to you, didn’t I? This is all my fault, this-
- Yes. It is.”
Everything goes wild again as Tommy breaks down.
Oh my god I killed him thiS IS MY FAULT I MURDERED HIM I FAILED HIM I FAILED YOU I LOST YOU I KILLED YOU I AM SO SORRY I’M SORRY I’MSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRY
“...Look up, Tommy.”
Tommy did not realize he had curled up on the floor until the soft yet harsh voice called out to him.
When he looked up, he realized that a bright screen was illuminating the whole station. Displayed on it were people talking about Ghostbur. Asking questions about him, reminiscing good times.
“This is all I have left. I know what everyone says about me. It’s torture. But you know what’s worse? It’s seeing a blank screen for days, weeks, months. It’s feeling like no one remembers me, like I’ve disappeared. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I have disappeared. Because I died. Again. Death for the dead. And it’s all your fault.”
Before he can retort, the screen glitches out, and the silence that follows is the loudest noise Tommy’s ever heard.
The words change. The sentences do too.
“YOU KILLED HIM” “IT WAS YOUR FAULT” “YOU FAILED HIM” “YOU FAILED EVERYONE” “JUST LIKE YOU FAILED L’MANBERG” “AND LOGSTEDSHIRE” “ALL YOUR FRIENDS HATE YOU” “THEY KNOW YOU’RE A MURDERER” “FREAK” “I’m your only friend, Tommy.” “YOU TOOK AWAY EVERYTHING” “YOU KILLED WILBUR” “IT’S YOUR FAULT”
Tommy can’t hear anything. He can’t see anything.
The world feels like a blur, dizzy colors swimming together in a pool of madness.
Then, the world comes back.
And someone’s talking.
“Do you not understand, Tommy? You made this happen. History repeats itself. L’Manberg, the Festival, even my death…”
They’re back in L’Manberg. The old one. The one where Wilbur died. They’re in his room. The song on the walls. The single chair in the middle. The button behind him.
Tommy looks up through blurry eyes.
“Do you get it, Tommy?”
He doesn’t sound like Ghostbur anymore. His voice is sharper.
“Do you understand what it means?
Tommy looks up.
“You’ve done it! You’ve played your part in my unfinished symphony!”
This is not Ghostbur anymore. It’s Wilbur. The old Wilbur. Tommy’s Wilbur.
“You caused all this! All this pain, this misery! It was all you! And you know what the best part is?”
It’s not Wilbur anymore. It’s… someone else. More twisted. His smile is crooked and his eyes are wide with excitement, as he extends his arms wide, as if going for an embrace.
“You’ve done it again. I’m back now. You’ve killed Ghostbur, and brought me back. You’ve brought upon disaster, Tommy. I will wreck this server far and wide, until nothing but ashes remain. I will turn family against family, turn friends against friends, because that’s what I do best. And you? You are going to helplessly watch me destroy everything and everyone you have ever cared about. And all you’re going to think about is that you killed your naive little friend. He trusted you, you know? And yet you betrayed him.”
A streak of white hair, contrasting against brown. Tommy stands motionless.
“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Almost like you and me. You trusted me, all naive and full of dreams, and yet I betrayed you. Do you know why, Tommy? We’re the same. You’re just like me, Tommy. You’re a murdere-”
Tommy shoots up in bed: his pillow is wet, and he is dripping in cold sweat. His eyes sting from all the tears he shed. He hugs his sheets, and whispers to the night.
Is it a confession? An apology? A whisper of hope, waiting for someone to come and tell him he’s wrong?
Maybe.
“I’m sorry, Ghostbur…”
No one answers. No one comes.
Everything is dark. Everything is so cold. He feels so desperately cold.
He’s alone.
He’s alone in his room, grieving for his lost friend who did nothing wrong, and still died at the hand of an evil man.
Everything is dark. Everything is cold. He feels cold.
He’s alone.
He’s alone in his station. The screen has been empty for two months, five days and sixteen hours.
Suddenly, it lights up.
Blue tears roll down his eyes. He hugs himself as he whispers an answer back, though he knows it will be swallowed by the emptiness of this place.
“I’m sorry, Tommy…
so sorry..."