Chapter Text
Wilbur woke up to a loud voice calling his name.
“Wil! Wilburrrr!” Tommy whined, the sound of his own name making Wilbur flinch as he blinked awake. “Wake up!”
When Wilbur’s eyes fluttered open, for a moment, he was confused as to where he was. The metal and stone walls were unfamiliar to him, as was the thin mattress that was digging into his back in all the wrong spots.
Then, he heard footsteps walking towards him, and it all came flooding back.
“Tommy, my eyes!” Wilbur shouted, squeezing his eyes shut again as he bolted upright in fear. His hands flew to his face, and he kept his head down as he listened to the footsteps falter.
“Oh shit, sorry! I forgot,” Tommy said, and Wilbur guessed he was standing only a few feet away from the bed.
“You didn’t see my eyes, did you?” Wilbur asking, his heart pounding in his ears.
“No! I didn’t, I swear. I mean, I saw your eyes closed, but that doesn’t count, right?”
Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief, but his shoulders stayed hunched up to his ears. “That- That’s fine, yeah. You just can’t look into my eyes.” Making sure to keep his eyes firmly shut, he reached out a hand in the direction Tommy’s voice was coming from. “Can you hand me my mask?”
There was the sound of shuffling, and then cool metal was being gently placed into his palm.
Screwing his eyes shut as tight as he could, Wilbur dropped his other hand from his face as he slid the mask on. He touched the skin around his eyes, making sure nothing was visible, before he finally blinked them open again.
When Wilbur looked up, he saw Tommy staring at him with his eyebrows furrowed, like he was worried. Good. He should’ve been worried. He’d almost been cursed.
“Morning,” Wilbur said weakly, nearly collapsing back onto the bed as his heart rate slowed down to a normal pace.
“Uh, good morning. Though it’s technically noon, so I dunno if it’s really morning anymore,” Tommy responded, flashing a grin at him. “How’d you sleep?”
Wilbur shrugged. “It was fine I guess.” He paused, and there was a pregnant silence between them that Wilbur immediately recognized as Tommy wanting to ask The question, but not sure how to go about it. “I didn’t have any future visions,” he added, figuring he might as well make it easy on the kid.
“Do you usually get them every night?” Tommy asked, frowning at him.
“No, I don’t. There’s not really a way to predict when I’ll get one, but I’ve gone months without having a single one before.” Those empty months were always something Wilbur dreaded. Dream hated when Wilbur didn’t have a vision for long periods of time, and would question him relentlessly if something had gone wrong, like he was worried Clara had revoked Her blessing from Wilbur for no reason.
He waited for Tommy’s disappointment to set him. For his lips to twist with frustration like others always had when Wilbur didn’t have any future visions to report.
But instead, Tommy actually smiled wider. “Oh, that’s good! I was worried that, like, there was something wrong.”
Oh. That… hadn’t been what Wilbur was expecting.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong,” he reassured Tommy. “I, uh, think I’d know if there was something wrong with my connection to Her.”
Tommy nodded, believing him immediately. “You’re the expert here, so if you say things are pog, then that sounds good to me.” Wilbur had no idea what ‘pog’ meant, but he decided not to ask about it. “Anyway, you ready to go get breakfast?”
Wilbur blinked, remembering that he hadn’t eaten since before the ball the night before. As if his own body had forgotten this as well, his stomach suddenly growled, and Wilbur ducked his head as Tommy snorted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tommy said, holding a hand out to him.
Glancing back up, Wilbur reached out to take Tommy’s hand, but paused when his gaze flickered over Tommy’s arms.
The night before, Tommy had been wearing long sleeves with his guard uniform. But now he was wearing a t-shirt, and Wilbur could see his bare arms for the first time. That shouldn’t have been something that Wilbur took note of, if not for the fact that Tommy’s arms were covered in tattoos.
Unlike Phil’s, which had clearly been more for art than any kind of enchantment, Tommy’s tattoos were all different kinds of sigils. Dark Swirls and circles and sharp edges were scattered around his pale skin, creating an array of different sigils that had Wilbur openly gawking. While he was familiar with sigil tattoos, it was rare to see someone have more than three or four. Tommy had at least eight, and that was only on the visible parts of his arms.
“Holy shit, you have a lot of sigils,” Wilbur said, eyes wide as he grabbed Tommy’s hand.
Tommy yanked him to his feet, before dropping his hand and beaming as he stretched one of his arms out so Wilbur could see the tattoos better. “Sure do! Niki did ‘em all for me!”
“I thought most people were limited to, like, five max before the magic put too much strain on their bodies?” Wilbur asked, frowning at Tommy.
“Well, that’s the case with most people. But according to Niki and Phil, my magic is ‘unusually strong’, which means I can handle a shit ton of sigil marks,” Tommy declared proudly.
Blinking twice, Wilbur’s eyes fell to the individual sigils. “What do they all do?”
“Well, I got one for strength boosting,” Tommy began, pointing at a sharp looking sigil, “got one to help me heal faster. Got one for pain numbing in case I get hurt. Also have one for magic boosting, which seems a little redundant, but it helps me do my heart control shit. Just stuff like that.” Then, Tommy dropped his arms. “What about you? You got any sigils?”
Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Wilbur shook his head. “Um, no. No sigil tattoos.”
Tommy frowned, like he wanted to ask why Wilbur didn’t have any tattoos. But he must’ve seen something in Wilbur’s face that made him decide against it, because he just gestured for Wilbur to follow him. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. So let’s head out.”
Nodding, Wilbur grabbed the yellow windbreaker off the floor and tugged it back over his undershirt. Then, he followed Tommy out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind them.
Like the first time he walked through the cavern, the place was abuzz with activity. People walked by carrying crates and complex-looking devices, all seeming to know exactly what they were doing and where they were going. He got a few stares as he trailed behind Tommy, but no one approached them, seemingly warded off by Tommy’s sharp glares whenever someone’s gaze lingered for a bit too long.
They turned down a tunnel away from the main cavern. The walls here were completely made of stone, with more of the purple fireflies lighting up the entire space like buzzing stars. That wasn’t the only light in the tunnels though. There were also murals painted along the stone, made of glowing, neon paint in shades of pink and blue that hummed with soft magic.
The murals were all different. Some were sigils that Wilbur guessed were supposed to act as protective wards. Others were paintings of wings, skulls, crows—things he imagined were tied with the Goddess of Death.
Finally, the tunnel opened back up. The smell of roasting meat and sweet pastries wafted through the air, and Wilbur’s stomach growled again as they made their way into what could only be described as a cafeteria.
This cavern wasn’t as big as the first, but it was still an unusually large cave. Rugs were scattered all over the ground, and Wilbur noticed a few people sitting on the rugs to eat, with large plates set in the center that everyone seemed to be allowed to take food from. Although there weren’t that many people in the cafeteria, the sounds of laughter and soft murmurs filled the air, echoing off the walls and blending together until the voices reminded Wilbur of a babbling creek.
Tommy wove between the occupied rugs with practiced ease. Wilbur followed, doing his best to not step on anyone by accident. A part of him wondered where they were going, until Wilbur noticed two boys sitting on a rug near the back of the cafeteria, both waving Tommy over excitedly.
“Tommy!” The boy sitting closer to them had bleached blonde hair that fell over his face, with dark roots spilling out from the top of it. He was grinning as Tommy clambered over to him, and when he turned his face a bit more, Wilbur realized that the left half of his face seemed to be covered in thick, ropey burn scars.
“Tubbo, my man!” Tommy crowed, dropping to his knees on the rug and bumping his shoulder against the boy’s.
“It’s about time you fucking woke up. We were almost wondering if you were gonna even show up!” Tubbo scolded him, lightly swatting his arm.
“Oh, like you wouldn’t sleep for twenty-four hours straight if you could-” he paused, and Wilbur noticed him take a wheezing breath, “-get away with it,” Tommy finished, sitting down properly next to the boy.
Wilbur stood awkwardly at the edge of the rug, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Tommy seemed to realize this at the same time Wilbur did, because he immediately patted the spot on the rug next to him. “You can sit here, Wil.”
As if noticing him for the first time, Tubbo’s head whipped towards Wilbur as he awkwardly sat down next to Tommy. “Holy shit, is that-”
“This is Wilbur, and yes, he’s the Pythia,” Tommy introduced, cutting Tubbo off.
Tubbo blinked, and now looking at him straight on, Wilbur realized Tubbo’s left eye glowed an unnatural shade of yellow—obviously cybernetic. “Damn, you’re not really what I expected.”
Before Wilbur could even try to figure out what to say to that, another voice sounded behind him. “Well, what did you expect him to look like, Tubbo?”
Oh yeah, there had been two boys sitting on the rug. Glancing over his shoulder, Wilbur had to fight the urge to flinch back when he saw the other person sitting across from him.
Even sitting down, Wilbur could tell that this kid was tall. Possibly even taller than him. His hair was a perfect split of black and white, and it nearly fell down to his shoulders with part of it being pulled back into a ponytail.
What startled Wilbur so bad he nearly flinched though wasn’t any of this. It was his cybernetics.
His eyes were clearly both implants, with one being a bright shade of red, and the other being a softer shade of green that still glowed in an unnatural way. The entire right side of his face was unnaturally stretched, with dark wires snaking their way under his skin like bulging veins. The wires trailed down his neck and under his shirt, with his short-sleeved shirt revealing a cybernetic right arm made of the same netherite that Tommy’s hand was. His pants seemed just a tad too short for him, with one of the legs of his jeans pulling up ever so slightly to reveal his right ankle was also made of netherite. If Wilbur had to guess, he’d say his entire right leg was probably a prosthetic as well.
“I don’t know, I thought he’d be more, like, regal looking I guess?”
Tubbo’s voice startled Wilbur out of his shock. He blinked a few times, shaking himself off and dropping his eyes to the food in the middle of the rug.
A large metal plate sat loaded with what looked like freshly-baked biscuits, some strips of dark meat Wilbur didn’t recognize, a pile of small, thin cookies in an array of bright colors, some kind of jelly-like sauce, and a few gel capsules.
Tommy had made himself busy grabbing one of the biscuits, dipping it in the jelly and taking a large bite with crumbs pouring down onto the rug below him. “You should’ve seen him at the ball,” Tommy said after he swallowed. “His outfit was ridiculous! I made him change so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb on the back of my bike.”
Tubbo grimaced at the crumbs now staining the front of Tommy’s shirt. “You’re so gross, man.”
“Oi! Fuck you, I’m not gross!” Tommy protested. “Let a man eat his breakfast, bitch!”
As the two devolved into an argument about how gross Tommy was, Wilbur felt a finger lightly tap his shoulder, and jumped.
It seemed the boy with the black and white hair had scooted over a bit so he could lean closer to Wilbur, but still kept a fair amount of space between them. “Sorry about those two. They can start going at it pretty easily,” he said, giving him a shy smile. “I’m Ranboo. It’s nice to meet you, Wilbur.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Wilbur said, fiddling with his hands in his lap as he glanced back over at the food.
“Are you wondering what the meat is?” Ranboo asked, keeping his voice low while Tubbo and Tommy continued to bicker.
“Yeah, I have no clue what that is,” Wilbur admitted.
Ranboo huffed out a soft laugh. “It’s just some kind of artificial meat, the same stuff you can find street vendors selling. It only looks weird because Techno has this whole secret sauce recipe he fries it with, so it makes it dark.”
“Techno cooked this?” Wilbur asked, surprised that someone that seemed to be as high up as him was apparently the cook.
“Yup. He’s one of the best cooks here, actually,” Ranboo told him. “You should try it. It’s really good.”
With some hesitation, Wilbur reached forward to take one of the strips of meat from the plate. It had a similar texture to bacon, but when he took a bite, his eyes widened at the vibrant spices that didn’t taste a single thing like bacon.
Admittedly, Wilbur couldn’t remember the last time he had artificial meat, but he would definitely say this was pretty good compared to his very faint memories. In the palace, they’d always had real meat, which was a luxury to those who lived in the city.
“Damn, this is really good,” Wilbur said, taking another bite.
“Yo, Wilbur!” Turning his head, Wilbur saw Tubbo staring at him with narrowed eyes. “We heard you went with Tommy willingly. Why the hell did you do that?”
The words immediately fizzled out on his tongue, having forgotten this was something he was probably going to have to explain to everyone they met.
Tommy, thankfully, answered before Wilbur even had to struggle to come up with a response. “The palace was shit and Dream didn’t listen to his advice, so when I offered him a way out he came with me.”
“Dream didn’t listen to you?” Ranboo asked, furrowing his brows.
Shrugging, Wilbur took another bite of the meat. “Not really. Not if he didn’t like what my advice was.”
“But you can see the future, right?” Tubbo asked. “Why the hell would you not listen to the advice of the dude who can literally predict how things are gonna go?”
Wilbur huffed. “Dream doesn’t like being told if he did something wrong. He’s arrogant, and thinks of himself as the only one in the right.”
“What a dick,” Tubbo snorted.
Ranboo gasped. “Tubbo! You can’t say that about the king!”
Tubbo gave Ranboo a flat stare. “We’re literally terrorists. Do you think I have any respect for the king?”
Tommy and Wilbur both snorted at this in unison. As Ranboo struggled to defend himself, there was a gentle nudging in Wilbur’s side, and when he glanced over, he saw Tommy holding a biscuit out to him. “These are really good. Niki made them, and she’s the best at baking stuff.”
Murmuring a thank you, Wilbur took the offered biscuit. When he bit into it, the bread crumbled into flaky bits in his mouth, with butter melting on his tongue. While the meat was good, this was amazing. Not better than the baked goods he’d gotten in the palace, but pretty damn close to it.
“So Wil, what’s up with the fancy mask?” Tubbo suddenly asked.
“Uh, you’ll get cursed if you look into a Pythia’s eyes. This is enchanted for me to see through,” Wilbur explained after he swallowed his bite of biscuit.
“Cursed?!” Tubbo exclaimed. “That’s so fucking cool! You can curse people just by looking at them!”
Wilbur couldn’t stop himself from flinching at Tubbo’s words. There was nothing cool about the curse. It had been something that Wilbur was terrified of ever since he woke up from his first vision dream. That one day he could just open his eyes at the wrong moment, or his blindfold could fall off, and he would doom someone to an early grave. He would be responsible for some innocent person’s death, just because of his eyes.
“It’s not cool,” Wilbur said quietly, staring at his hands. “It’s actually fucking terrifying. Knowing that with just one fuck up, I could shorten someone’s life—that I’d basically be responsible for their death.”
While Ranboo grimaced and Tommy shot a glare Tubbo’s way, Tubbo just shrugged. “Sorry, I just always forget you outsiders are so touchy about death.”
“What do you mean ‘touchy about death’? Does worshipping the Goddess of Death just mean you don’t care when people die?” Wilbur asked, furrowing his brows.
“It’s not like that,” Tommy interjected. “We do care when people die, but we also see it as a gift. You’ve finally done what you were put here to do, and now you’ve returned to Our Lady’s embrace.”
It was odd, hearing Tommy talk about the worship of Kristin. While Wilbur had known from the beginning that he was a Deathling, so far, he hadn’t actually mentioned anything specific about his beliefs. If anything, Wilbur would say he didn’t seem all that pious at all.
“I suppose I get that, but I still don’t see how me having the ability to permanently shorten someone’s lifespan is a good thing,” Wilbur said after a few moments. “Wouldn’t that mean they’re returning to Your Lady before they’re supposed to?”
“Not possible. Kristin doesn’t take anyone unless She thinks it’s their time,” Tommy explained, leaning back on his hands.
“But- But the curse says if someone looks into my eyes, they’ll die an early death. One they weren’t supposed to have shortened otherwise,” Wilbur pointed out.
Tommy shrugged. “Kristin knows when everyone is supposed to die. It’s something She decides the minute a person is born. So if someone dies early because of your curse, it’s because She decided that was going to be their cause of death long before they saw your eyes.”
Wilbur’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t make sense. Clara is the one who knows the future, She’s the one who knows when people are supposed to die. Kristin can’t know that.”
“Well, She fuckin’ does-”
“Maybe let’s not debate religion over breakfast,” Ranboo cut in, glancing nervously between Wilbur and Tommy.
While Wilbur wanted to try and debate more about this because the idea of Kristin knowing the future when that was Clara’s domain just didn’t make sense- he could also tell that this was going to become more of an argument than it should’ve been.
One of the things Wilbur had had to learn the hard way when he became Pythia was that a tendency to question the worship he engaged in was not a desirable trait in the Pythia. When he was younger and first being taught about Clara and his role as Pythia by the former Pythia, he had frequently questioned why certain things were the way they were, why the rituals were necessary or if the history he was taught was actually what happened.
The former Pythia had been patient with him, but warned him in a stern voice that that kind of questioning wasn’t welcome. The traditions had been followed for centuries, and they weren’t something you were supposed to prod at. His belief and worship in Clara was supposed to be unquestioning, unbreakable, and void of any doubt. It had been a bitter pill for him to swallow, but he managed it all the same.
But now he could feel that same curiosity—that same doubt rising up in him again. He needed to shove it down. Not let it fester. The Deathlings had their own ideas about Kristin, and even if they clashed with what he’d been taught about Clara, it wasn’t his place to try and debate that. His belief was the correct one. That was all he needed to hold onto.
The rest of breakfast passed in bursts of random conversation. Wilbur went back to eating the biscuits and meat, while Tommy loudly tried to convince Tubbo to build him a jetpack. Apparently, Tubbo was an engineer, and was being mentored under the Deathlings head cybernetics engineer—Sam. Ranboo only chimed in every once in a while, seemingly content to just listen to his friends and occasionally flash a kind smile Wilbur’s way.
Once the plate had been cleared of food, Ranboo picked it up and said he would go drop it off to be cleaned. Tubbo told Tommy he was getting a headache because of his ears—which was a sentence Wilbur didn’t understand in the slightest but didn’t ask for clarification on—and left to go work on whatever project he was currently engrossed in.
This left Wilbur alone with Tommy again. A part of Wilbur was worried that Tommy was annoyed with him because of the discussion on Kristin and Clara before, but Tommy didn’t mention it as he led Wilbur back out of the cafeteria, instead excitedly chatting about giving Wilbur the grand tour.
“So this entire place was originally a natural cave system, right?” Tommy was telling him as he guided him back down the tunnel into the main cavern. “Then, it was hollowed out more to make the rooms bigger and stuff, and we reinforced the walls with metal where the rock was a bit unstable. Over time we’ve just continued to expand it, so this place is always growing.”
They made it back to the main cavern, which was still bustling with just as much activity as before. When Wilbur tilted his head back to see the spires jutting out from the ceiling that were criss-crossed by those long wires, he gasped when he realized there was a person standing on one of the wires.
“Holy shit, there’s a guy up there!” Wilbur exclaimed, pointing to the red-headed man who was balancing on the wire with practiced ease as he ducked below the rock spires.
Tommy glanced up, and let out a sharp laugh when his eyes fell on the guy. “Oh yeah, that’s Fundy! Those wires help connect power to different parts of the caves, so he’s just doing some repairs.”
“That’s so high up though. What if he falls?” Wilbur asked, heart skipping a beat when Fundy jumped to tap a rock spire, the wire beneath him rippling with the weight.
“Nah, he’s not gonna fall. He’s got this cool type of muscle wire net implant, and it gives him an insane amount of control over his balance and shit. The guy is basically a circus acrobat, but even better.” They stepped directly underneath the part of the wire Fundy was standing on, and before Wilbur could realize what Tommy was doing, he was cupping his hands over his mouth and calling up. “Fundy! What’s up!”
Looking down, Fundy met Tommy’s eyes and grinned. Then, in a move that almost made Wilbur shriek, Fundy fell backwards. He caught himself on the wire by his legs, and hung upside down right over their heads.
“Sup Tommy!” Fundy greeted, and Wilbur noticed his red hair was streaked with white as it hung around his face. “Is this the Pythia?”
“Yup! This is Wilbur. Wilbur, meet Fundy,” Tommy introduced.
Wilbur had to crane his neck back to meet Fundy’s eyes. Now with a better look at him, he realized Fundy could only have been a few years older than Tommy at most. His features were sharp and pointed, with dark brown eyes that reminded Wilbur of a fox.
“Nice to meet you, Wilbur! Like the mask, looks pretty sick,” Fundy said, grinning at him.
“Thanks,” Wilbur responded, not bothering to tell Fundy he wouldn’t be wearing the gaudy thing if he had another choice. “Nice… acrobatics.”
Fundy chuckled. “Thanks, man. If you ever wanna try it out, feel free to climb on up here and I can show you some tricks. It’s a lot of fun.”
Wilbur gulped. “Um, no thanks. I like staying on the ground.”
“Fair enough!” In one swift motion, Fundy flipped himself over the wire so he was hanging onto it with his hands, and pulled himself back up so he was standing on top of it once again. “I gotta get back to it, but I’ll talk to you guys later!”
“Later!” Tommy called. And then, he was grabbing Wilbur’s wrist again and dragging him away from the wires.
As they headed through the main cavern, Tommy made a sharp turn down into another long tunnel, similar to the one that led to the cafeteria. This one was quite a bit bigger than the cafeteria tunnel though, with room for multiple people to walk through side by side. Neon graffiti still lit up the stone, and Wilbur absently brushed his fingers along one of the wing paintings as they passed by.
“So Fundy can do all that acrobatic stuff because of his wire net implant over his, uh, muscles?” Wilbur asked, struggling to remember if he’d heard of a cybernetic enhancement like that before.
Tommy nodded. “Pretty much! Though he did that kind of stuff even before Sam gave him that enhancement. The wire net just made him even better at it.”
“So Sam just… gives you guys whatever cybernetic implants you want?” Wilbur asked, having to duck when they passed under a low point in the tunnel ceiling.
“Kind of. We don’t have unlimited supplies or anything, so it’s kind of whatever he deems necessary. Like I’ve been begging him for cybernetic eyes, but he and Ponk both say it’s too risky of a surgery to do unless you actually need it,” Tommy explained, scoffing a bit. “Ponk is our doctor here. Sam builds all the cybernetics, and then Ponk does the actual surgery part of it.”
It was reassuring to hear that they had an actual doctor performing the actual enhancements on all of them. Although that was the recommendation for getting any cybernetic implant, Wilbur had heard plenty of cases where the cybernetics engineer themselves would just perform the procedures, even if they weren’t licensed doctors.
“Wait, if it’s only necessary stuff, how was Fundy’s wire net necessary?” Wilbur asked after a moment.
“Well, it’s usually whatever’s necessary. But Sam likes to experiment with building enhancements people have never even heard of before, and sometimes he needs people to test them out on. Fundy volunteered to try out the wire net, which is how he ended up with it.”
Wilbur blinked. “Your engineer tests out his cybernetic prototypes on you guys?” He asked, unable to keep some of the horror from leaking into his voice.
“It’s on a volunteer basis only, and Sam makes sure we know all the risks before we do it. Anything that people, like, actually need are only cybernetics that have been tested a shit ton and are known to work just fine,” Tommy reassured him, waving his prosthetic hand around like he was waving Wilbur’s worries away. “Fundy is one of the only ones here who actually has a prototype like that. Most people don’t wanna risk it.”
“I can understand why,” Wilbur muttered, shaking his head as he tried to imagine it. The idea of cybernetics alone was already a little anxiety-inducing for him, considering he didn’t have any kinds of implants whatsoever. But letting a prototype get implanted into your body? That was terrifying. “Where are we going anyway?”
“Well, we’re actually on our way to Sam’s workshop, but we’re just passing by. We’re going to see Niki so we can get you a new blindfold,” Tommy told him. Up ahead, Wilbur saw a brighter light shining, and Tommy picked up his walking speed. “Oh, there we are!”
The tunnel opened up into a larger cave, but not a cavern like the other openings they’d been in before. This seemed to be more of a middleman type of room, with three doorways leading into different, seemingly larger caves.
The one on the far right seemed to be a room filled with stone tables, scrap metal strewn all around, and floating lights far brighter than any lighting Wilbur had seen in the caves since he got here. Wilbur could hear a man talking to someone inside the room, and when he passed by the doorway, Wilbur only got a glimpse of dark green hair before he disappeared again.
“That’s Sam’s workshop,” Tommy whispered to him. “Then right next to it is Ponk’s clinic,” he continued, pointing to the doorway right next to the workshop. In that room, Wilbur didn’t hear anyone talking, but he could see more bright lights and a few beds shoved against walls.
Then, Tommy was grabbing Wilbur’s wrist and dragging him towards the doorway on the far left. “Niki’s is over here,” he said, guiding him towards the cave.
Wilbur had to duck under the archway to go into the room. Once he was fully inside he was able to straighten up again, and paused to take a look at the space.
It seemed… kind of like a tattoo parlor, if Wilbur had to compare it to something. The walls were covered in more intricate, neon paintings, but also some framed designs of sigils and runes that obviously were more for decoration than they were for actual magic. There was a large, leather chair that reminded Wilbur of the kind you would find in a dentist’s office, with a metal tray floating next to it. On one wall, Wilbur noticed a large bookshelf absolutely filled with books on enchanting and runic language. There was a table pressed against another wall, and Wilbur saw bottles of ink lined up neatly, along with some kind of waxy paper and pens stacked beside the ink.
In the back of the room, there was another desk. This one was actually occupied, and Wilbur saw the back of a head of short pink hair hunched over, clearly focused as they worked on something Wilbur couldn’t see.
“Niki!” Tommy called out as soon as they stepped inside.
The pink-haired person glanced over her shoulder, and Wilbur realized this must’ve been Niki. She grinned when she saw Tommy, immediately spinning around in her chair to push to her feet and greet them.
“Tommy! Glad to see you made it back in one piece,” Niki said, wiping her hands off on her pants as she walked across the room.
Wilbur’s eyes were immediately drawn to her arms. Niki was wearing a dark grey tank top, showing the full extent of the netherite prosthetic arms that meshed into the skin of her shoulders. Like Tommy’s prosthetic, her arms were covered in an array of flower and vine carvings. The metal of her fingers was coated in lapis dust, and her black pants were stained with the shimmering, bright blue gemstone powder. On her collarbone, Wilbur noticed the dark wings of the Deathling mark sticking out against her pale skin.
“Of course I made it back! I’m such a Big Man, a mission like this was no problem for me!” Tommy declared, puffing out his chest proudly.
Niki giggled, reaching out to pull Tommy into a hug. He had to hunch down a bit to hug her properly, and Niki rolled her eyes at the height difference before lightly shoving him back.
Then, as soon as she was no longer hugging Tommy, her pale grey eyes flickered over to Wilbur. Immediately, her smile softened, and she held out a hand for him to shake. “You’re Wilbur, right?”
Wilbur blinked, startled by someone knowing his name without Tommy introducing him, but shook himself out of it as he took her hand. “Uh, yeah. I’m the Pythia.”
Niki’s metal fingers were surprisingly warm against his own, and when she dropped his hand, he noticed some of the lapis dust had transferred onto his fingers. “Well, obviously I know that,” Niki teased gently. “Techno told me you’d probably be coming by today. You need a new blindfold, right?”
It was a relief to not have to explain it all to yet another person, so he nodded gratefully at Niki. “Yeah, this thing is a little, uh-”
“Much?” Niki offered. Wilbur nodded, and she gave him an understanding look. “Yeah, seems a bit heavy too. I just need to measure your face and I can enchant something much better for you.” Taking a step back, Niki gestured to the dentist chair he’d noticed earlier. “If you want, you can sit there so I can take your measurements?”
Wilbur moved over to the chair, settling himself on the edge because he was unsure if he needed to lay down fully or not. Tommy, meanwhile, grabbed a spare chair from the corner to drag over so he could sit next to Wilbur.
Niki headed back over to her desk in the back, fiddling with some papers and other things he couldn’t see from where he was sitting. A minute later she came back over, settling herself in the chair right next to Wilbur’s, and set some measuring tape, lapis, and a black marker on the metal tray.
“Okay, can you take your mask off for me?” Niki asked.
Stiffening, Wilbur made a choked noise and had to cough to clear his throat. “Uh, you, um, you know why I have to wear the mask, right?”
“Yeah, the curse, right? Techno told me about it,” Niki said, as if it was obvious. “You can just keep your eyes closed, right? I need to be able to measure your face without that mask in the way.”
Wilbur thought back to when he was first measured for his mask after receiving his first future vision. They had sent one of the oldest attendants in the entire palace to take the measurements, and the entire time, the old man’s hands had trembled violently. He had been terrified of Wilbur opening his eyes. Everyone was.
But Niki didn’t seem afraid at all. She just was staring at him expectantly, like she didn’t understand why he was so surprised.
“You… You’re not scared I’m going to open my eyes?” He asked, cringing at how quiet his voice was.
Next to him, he heard Tommy make a wounded noise, while something pained flashed over Niki’s face. “Of course I’m not afraid. I don’t think you’d do that on purpose.”
“But- I could get startled and just open them by accident,” Wilbur tried to explain.
“Wil, the fact that you’re so worried about this is just telling me you’re going to try really hard not to let that happen,” Niki said, her soft smile returning.
“If it makes you feel better,” Tommy suddenly jumped in, leaning over so his elbow was resting on the dentist chair, “if you look like you’re going to open your eyes, I can slap my hand over your face.”
Despite the anxiety humming through him, Wilbur couldn’t help but snort at that. “Knowing you, you’d give me a black eye with how hard you hit me.”
“Not like anyone will know because you’ll be wearing a blindfold,” Tommy shot back, smirking at him.
Laughing again, the tension trickled out of Wilbur’s shoulders. The idea of letting Niki poke around his face without any kind of shield between her eyes and his still freaked him out, but it would only be for a few minutes, right? Plus, Tommy would be ready to block his eyes if needed. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but Wilbur really wanted to be able to take off his current mask.
“Okay,” Wilbur agreed after a moment. “Just be ready, Tommy.”
“You got it,” Tommy said, straightening up and holding his hands out.
Taking a breath to steady himself, Wilbur closed his eyes and reached up to pull the mask off. There was a moment of silence after he set the mask down next to him, and he wondered what Niki was doing.
“You’re young,” Niki whispered after a few seconds.
Even though his eyes were closed, Wilbur furrowed his brows. “How old did you think I was?”
“Thirties, maybe?” Niki offered, and Wilbur scrunched up his face at that.
“Wow, do I really look that old?”
Niki huffed, and he heard some shuffling from what he guessed was in the direction of the metal tray. “The mask makes it hard to tell. Plus, I didn’t expect the Pythia to be young at all.”
“He’s twenty-three!” Tommy chimed in from Wilbur’s right side.
“Huh, you’re only two years older than me,” Niki murmured. There was some more shuffling, and then, “okay, I’m gonna start touching your face now. Just letting you know so it doesn’t startle you.”
“Thank you,” Wilbur said, grateful for the warning.
Smooth metal pressed against his cheeks, and Wilbur listened as the tape measure was stretched over his eyes. He could feel Tommy hovering at his side, ready to slap his hands over Wilbur’s face at any second. It was surprisingly reassuring, having Tommy ready to block his face if anything happened, and Wilbur felt his heartbeat slow.
“So Niki, you’re the head enchanter here?” Wilbur asked after a few moments, feeling awkward just sitting in silence as Niki poked at his face.
“I am,” Niki hummed, and Wilbur felt cool plastic gently press against his eyes. “Magic symbols—like runes or sigils—are my specialty. I enchant the cybernetics Sam makes with runes, and I also can design sigils. So all the sigil tattoos you see are from me too.”
“You don’t just do sigil tattoos though,” Tommy cut in. “You’ve done pretty much everyone’s Deathling marks, and also all the normal tattoos people have, like Phil’s.”
“I haven’t done all of Phil’s tattoos,” Niki corrected with a soft laugh. “He had quite a few already from other tattoo artists when I joined the Deathlings.”
“How long ago did you join?” Wilbur asked, eyebrows twitching when Niki poked his temples.
“I was fifteen, so six years ago now I’m pretty sure,” Niki explained, and he heard the marker get uncapped.
Wilbur waited as the cool marker ink was pressed against his temples. “Can I ask why you joined? I don’t really know what the recruitment process is for, uh, Deathlings.”
Niki’s hands paused, and a silence fell over the three of them, the air turning thick with tension. Although Wilbur kept his eyes shut, he could practically feel Niki and Tommy exchanging strange looks.
“Shit, did I say something wrong?”
“Oh, uh, not exactly,” Niki quickly answered. “It’s just- you don’t know anything about the Deathlings, I forgot, so of course you don’t know, um-”
“Why people join is kind of a personal thing,” Tommy cut in, saving Niki from her stammering. “It’s not something you really ask. Here in the group, it’s something you usually wait for someone to tell you on their own.”
Oh god. He already fucked up.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Forget I asked,” Wilbur said, clenching his jaw.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” Niki reassured him, and she resumed taking her measurements. “I know that sounds confusing, but have you noticed how a lot of us here seem to have cybernetic prosthetics or implants?” Wilbur nodded. “Well, this isn’t the case for everyone, but the time when most people start feeling like they have a connection to the Goddess of Death is after having gone through a near death experience. And usually near death experiences mean you get injured, and injuries mean you typically need cybernetics, so…” she trailed off.
Oh.
“That- shit, I’m sorry,” Wilbur stammered, realizing he’d just essentially asked Niki to talk about something that was—presumably—very traumatic for her.
“Like I said, you didn’t know,” Niki told him, her fingers finally dropping from his face. “Here, hold your hands out.”
Wilbur did as she said, and he felt his heavy gold mask being placed back into his hands. “Put this back on. It’s gonna take me a few minutes to enchant.”
Putting the mask back on his face, Wilbur checked to make sure his eyes were completely covered before blinking them open once again. Niki had already moved back over to her desk, and was hunched over as the smell of lapis dust filled the air.
“Kinda bummed I didn’t get to smack you in the face,” Tommy joked.
Turning to face him, Wilbur saw Tommy still smirking at him, fiddling with the fingers of his prosthetic like he seemed to often do. Wilbur’s eyes lingered on the prosthetic, and remembered what Tommy said about Sam only providing cybernetics that were necessary.
Now that he knew, he wasn’t going to ask about it. But Wilbur wondered if he’d ever hear the story behind that all the same.
“You might not make Clara very happy if you did that,” Wilbur shot back, grinning at Tommy.
Tommy snorted. “I’m sure Clara wouldn’t mind. I’m loved by all women, especially Goddesses.”
Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Bit stuck up, aren’t we?”
“It’s not stuck up if it’s the truth,” Tommy replied coolly.
Huffing, Wilbur slumped back against the dentist chair. It was almost strange how easy it was to banter with Tommy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d joked around and teased someone in that way, but something between him and this kid just clicked.
Once again, Wilbur thought back to the vision he had the night before the ball. Where Clara wanted him to take Tommy’s hand and go with him. He thought that maybe he’d get answers as to why Clara had wanted him to be with the Deathlings when he got to their base, but it’d almost been twenty-four hours since the ball, and he was still no closer to answers than he’d been before.
It would probably take time for Clara to reveal what path She wanted him to take from here. Over the years, Wilbur had grown used to being forced to wait for answers. But with a situation as strange at this, the wait was frustrating to say the least.
“This is the easiest thing I could do with the supplies I had on hand,” Niki suddenly said, standing up and walking back over to the chair. In her hands, she was holding a swath of shimmering gold fabric, and Wilbur could see small runes inscribed in lapis on the edges of the cloth. “If you want a mask made of metal, or maybe even some goggles, let me know and I can ask someone to get the materials for me.”
Taking the offered blindfold, Wilbur ran his fingers over the soft fabric, thinking of how similar it was to the casual blindfolds he’d kept in his drawers back at the palace. “This works fine, thank you.”
Closing his eyes again, he took the metal mask off, and brought the blindfold around his eyes. He tied it quickly, and made sure his eyes were on his lap as he blinked them open again.
The slight fuzz that came with staring through an enchanted blindfold was still there, but Wilbur was startled when it was… less noticeable? Lifting his head, he met Niki’s eyes, and realized that the pink of her hair seemed just a bit brighter than it had been before as well. Looking over to Tommy, he noticed the runes carved into his prosthetic were clearer than they’d been before, and Wilbur could see a faint shimmering over the hand itself, like he could actually see the physical magic that hovered around the enchantments.
“Holy shit,” Wilbur muttered, seeing the same shimmer over each of the sigil tattoos on Tommy’s arms. When he glanced back at Niki, he saw the same thing on her prosthetic arms.
“Is that a good holy shit?” Niki asked, giving him a nervous look.
“Yeah, it is,” Wilbur laughed a bit, not having realized how drastic of a difference such a subtle improvement made. “It’s like- I don’t know how you did it, but it’s like colors are brighter, and I can see the magic over your enchantments. Also it’s not as fuzzy as it usually is with my other masks.”
Furrowing her brows, Niki picked up the discarded mask Wilbur had set beside him, and turned it over in her hands. She brought the mask close to her face, peering at the runes, before blinking a few times and pulling back. “No wonder it was fuzzy before. Whoever enchanted your mask didn’t seem to know what they were doing.”
“The official palace enchanter was the one who did all my blindfolds,” Wilbur told her.
Niki raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Well they did a shit job of it.”
Next to him, Tommy barked out a laugh. “Fucking Death below, Niki! You really think the literal palace enchanter did a bad job?”
“They certainly did a worse job than I would’ve done,” Niki countered. “Runes are constantly being streamlined to help them be more effective in their enchantments. This style hasn’t been used in at least ten years. Not to mention, the carving was shoddy work. I feel like whoever did this had shaky hands.”
“I mean, considering this blindfold works way better than my last one, I’m inclined to believe you,” Wilbur said. “So thank you. Seriously. This is really fantastic.”
“Wil, I did that in five minutes. If you gave me more time I could make you a mask that worked even better than your normal eyes did,” Niki told him, curling her fingers around the metal mask. “Do you mind if I hold onto this though? I won’t do anything to it, I just want to study the runework.”
“Go for it. I think that thing is ugly as shit.”
Grinning, Niki pushed to her feet with the mask in her hand. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Wilbur. I’d love for you both to stay, but I have work I need to get back to.”
“Doing more runework for Sam?” Tommy asked, hopping out of his chair while Wilbur did the same.
“I’m always doing runework for Sam. But I also have a sigil I’m designing for someone.”
“Who?” Tommy asked, bouncing on his toes as Niki guided them to the door.
“Ranboo! He asked yesterday to design one for him.”
Tommy frowned. “Wait, Ranboo? I thought he could only handle one sigil.”
“I figured out a way to balance the magic use a bit more, so he can handle a second one,” she told him, leaning against the doorway.
“What’s it for?”
“Pain relief. His prosthetics have been aching a bit more lately,” Niki explained, looking a bit saddened as she told Tommy this.
“Aw damn, that sucks.” Wilbur noticed Tommy flexing the fingers of his prosthetic. “Well, hopefully boob boy takes it well. At least he’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight.” Wilbur wasn’t sure what the connection between Ranboo getting a sigil tattoo and sleeping well was, but before he could voice this, Tommy was already walking out of the room. “Later Niki!”
“Bye guys!” Niki waved as they headed off, and Wilbur waved back before Tommy guided him back down the dark tunnel once more.
Wilbur had no idea where they were going next, but if this cave system was really as big as Tommy was making it out to be, they could spend the entire day just walking around. Tommy didn’t say much as they headed back to the main cavern, but there was nothing stifling about the silence. It was just comfortable, listening to the echo of their shoes against the stone, and the distant sound of voices swelling-
Wait, voices?
The closer they got to the main cavern, the louder the voices got. It was far too loud to just be the normal chatter of people walking around, and Tommy seemed to realize that at the same time Wilbur did, frowning and picking up the pace as they neared the end of the tunnel.
When they re-entered the main cavern, Wilbur jolted at the sight of the crowd gathered. Almost all of the faces were unfamiliar to him, but he noticed Jack and Fundy talking with their heads bowed to each other. Before Wilbur could ask Tommy what was going on though, there was a blur of black and white as Ranboo ran straight at them.
“Tommy! Where did you go?” Ranboo asked, eyes wide as he grabbed Tommy’s shoulder.
“I was at Niki’s! We were getting Wil a new blindfold,” Tommy explained, gesturing to Wilbur’s face. “What the hell is going on?”
Ranboo didn’t say anything. Instead, he just sighed, and pointed to the front of the cavern.
Wilbur hadn’t noticed the giant hologram floating above them before, but there it was, casting a bright pink glow against everyone in the room. When Wilbur realized what the hologram was of though, his mouth went dry.
The hologram was of two faces—Tommy’s and Wilbur’s. They were both projected against the wall, with the word ‘BOUNTY’ written above their heads. Wilbur’s picture still had him wearing the gold mask he’d just given to Niki. Then, there were more details written underneath each of their faces.
Under Tommy’s it read:
Wanted: dead or alive if with second bounty. If alone, only bring back alive.
Meanwhile, under Wilbur’s it read:
Wanted: alive and unharmed. If harmed contract will be terminated.
Then, there was a string of numbers for the bounty reward, and Wilbur gulped as he stared at the largest number of credits he’d ever seen written down.
“We have a fucking bounty on us?!” Tommy screeched, eyes blown wide.
“This just got posted to the net on the bounty forums less than an hour ago,” Ranboo explained, gripping Tommy’s shoulder like he was going to fall over. “The poster is anonymous.”
Bile rising in his throat, Wilbur wrung his hands in front of him. “It’s Dream.”
“What?” Ranboo nearly yelped. “Dream’s the king! Why would he post a bounty for you?!”
“He’s not going to reveal the Pythia has been kidnapped, or else it’ll make us look weak compared to other nations, which is why he wants to get me back in a subtle way. But he’s the only one who has the wealth to offer that kind of reward.”
Wilbur knew he was right. There was no doubt in his mind as he stared at the floating bounty with his face plastered across it. This was Dream’s doing.
“Tommy! Wil! There you are,” a new voice called out. Phil was pushing his way through the crowd, with Techno trailing close behind. “Where were you two?”
“It’s not like we were outside the cave! We were at Niki’s for fuck’s sake,” Tommy scoffed, although Wilbur could see the way his hands were shaking despite his flippant tone.
“Well that’s good, because you’re not leaving the cave anytime soon,” Techno said, folding his arms over his chest. “This bounty is bad news. With a reward like that, every bounty hunter in the city is gonna be hunting for you two.”
“So you can’t leave the caves at all,” Phil continued. “At least not until news of this bounty dies down. The minute you step outside, someone is gonna clock you with facial recognition.”
“Wh- Phil, c’mon! With a reward like that, it could take a fucking year for this bounty to die down, maybe even two!” Tommy argued.
“So what, you propose we just turn you both in instead? No way,” Techno huffed, shaking his head.
Wilbur opened his mouth, ready to offer himself to just turn over if it meant keeping his only friend here safe, before he stupidly remembered that they weren’t going to let him leave. He might have gone with Tommy willingly, but he was still kidnapped, and he doubted that they would take too kindly to him offering to go back to the palace.
It was strange how easily he was able to forget that he was kidnapped. Somehow, while unfamiliar to him, he already felt… safe, here with the Deathlings. Maybe not sure of what he was doing, but safe nonetheless.
Shit. This was a problem.
“I mean, it’s not like I have much of a problem with not being able to go out, considering I’d been stuck in the palace for the past nine years,” Wilbur said, twisting his fingers together. “But this isn’t fair to Tommy.”
Tommy gave him a grateful smile, but Phil quickly shook his head.
“Tommy knew the risks when he agreed to take the mission,” Phil said, giving Tommy a pointed look.
“I didn’t think I’d fucking be stuck in here for a year!” Tommy protested.
“This isn’t a punishment, Tommy. If you go outside, your life will be at real risk,” Phil pushed, putting both his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Please, I’m not saying this to be cruel. You have to stay inside.”
Wilbur watched Tommy visibly deflate. “But… But if I get killed, isn’t that because Kristin decided it was my time?” Tommy asked, his voice much smaller now.
“Kristin knows when we’re all going to join Her, but She’s never advocated taking unnecessary risks. I’ve taught you this before. Life is a gift, and you can’t waste it.”
Tommy gulped, and Wilbur noticed it almost looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I don’t wanna be trapped again, Phil. I can’t do it. I’ll fucking go crazy.”
“You’re not trapped,” Phil reassured him, placing his hands on Tommy’s cheeks. “You have to hide out here just for a little while. I promise, as soon as we think it’s safe, you’ll be able to go out again.”
When Tommy took another breath, Wilbur heard that same wheezing, though it was louder this time. His eyes widened and he hiccuped once, before he sucked in a much louder, wheezing breath.
Phil’s grip on his shoulders tightened. “Tommy, just breathe. Don’t freak out your implants.” He started doing exaggerated breaths as a guide for Tommy to follow, and Tommy breathed along, the wheezing getting quieter with each passing second.
Wilbur felt like he was intruding on something personal, so he turned back to Techno and Ranboo, who both looked just as troubled as he felt.
“Looks like you’re sticking around for a while,” Techno commented.
“I guess I am,” Wilbur said, although it’s not like he thought he was leaving anytime soon anyway.
“Don’t worry, Wilbur,” Ranboo reassured, giving him a small smile. “I think you’ll like it here.”
Wilbur thought back to yesterday morning, when he’d woken up in a cold sweat with a vision flashing behind his eyes. He thought of his frustration with Dream, the eyes lingering on him at the ball. Then, he thought of Tommy asking him what his name was, and if he was happy. The way it felt like a weight off his chest to tell Tommy that no, he wasn’t happy. Not really.
Then, Wilbur thought of Ranboo and Niki’s warm smiles. Of Tommy’s protective glares, and Phil’s kind voice.
Something brushed against the back of his mind. It was subtle, but it was like there was a presence behind him. Watching him. It was cool, and Wilbur felt the ghost of a hand ruffling his hair.
Despite all logic, Wilbur couldn’t help but grin.
“I think I will too.”
Suddenly, there was a warm real weight on his shoulder, and Wilbur glanced down to see Tommy slumping dramatically against him. “Guess we’re both stuck here for a while, Big W.” His panic from earlier seemed to have disappeared, and was now replaced with tired acceptance.
Reaching down, Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair. “Seems like we are, gremlin child.”
This seemed to send Tommy off as he dove into a tirade about how he wasn’t a child, letting out a string of curses that Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh at.
Maybe there was a literal bounty on his head, but all he could do right now was trust in Clara’s guidance, and see where She wanted him to go from here.
Plus, with Tommy by his side, maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad.