Tommy finds himself stuck in a school with 19 other students, forced into a killing game by the mysterious mastermind. A new era of SMPronpa commences, giving DSMP-era MCYT fans a taste of that one forbidden fanfic.
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"I thought that every human had love in their hearts, even if it was buried deep down," Tubbo admitted, his voice soft.
Ranboo glanced at him sadly. "Don't let these games make you think otherwise, most do," he said, putting his hand on Tubbo's shoulder.
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Dream knew something that nobody else did. And it haunted him every night, as he tried to figure out how to use it usefully, and not let his one chance go to waste.
This thing, in particular, was something he had been hiding, keeping to himself in case Gure-ga figured out.
In the trial room was an opening in the wall- like a large square was taken out of it. In that was a desk covering the front and a seat behind it, in which Gure-ga sat. On this table was a device that he'd check often, but take with him everywhere.
When Gure-ga exploded in front of Skeppy and Tom, Dream realized that he had left whatever device it was on his table. It took him a while to be able to reach it, but he used some of the rubble left from the explosion to stand up on and grab it.
It was small enough for him to fit it in his pocket, so he did before leaving the scene quickly.
He figured out that the device was used as a phone, or a computer, except a bit different. They had picked certain screens or tabs that were the only ones available to use. This meant that he had access to files, 1 single twitch screen, settings, and Twitter.
He couldn't call the police due to this, nor could he tweet anything- when he tried to log in, it put up an error sign. But he could speak in chat.
He knew that once he spoke in chat, Gure-ga or the mastermind would figure out that he had it, taking it away from him, so he had figured that he had to use his one opportunity to do so the best way he could.
You see, from receiving that device he realized that the games were made for Twitch, and that obviously, following Twitch's rules, nobody knew this was real, and not an acted-out game. On Twitter and on the device's files were tons of fanart.
Fanart of their deaths, their internal struggles. Fanart of them murdering each other, of their trials. Fanfictions, where they'd die in different ways, where the trial went differently, where- where Dream kissed George? Heatwaves?
Well, he could at least find the whole 'DNF' thing amusing. The rest was fucked up, he felt close to puking into his mouth seeing some of the art of the dead or executed students. He wouldn't have cared if it weren't real... so it wasn't their fault, but it was still terrible.
