Oɴce A Wαrrιor | ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢᴹᴾ

𝐱𝐢𝐯 - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

chapter xiv , conquest of spaces

       "THIS IS PLAN ASS."

       Quackity suggests we trick the president into signing over his authority.

       In my opinion?  This has a 23.6% success rate overall.  The president is not entirely a head full of loosened screws.

       "Y/N," Tommy rested a hand on my shoulder. "You should stay back. Schaltt holds a bigger grudge against you than any of us. You said that you had some sort of past with him—" he shook his head. "I'm getting off topic. Basically what I am trying to tell you is that it will be safer for you if you stay back."

       "Okay." I respond.

       "We're going to the location to scout out first before we go in tomorrow," he continued. "We'll be back in a few hours. I just wanted to tell you so you don't have to worry." the blond sucked in his lips, trying to conjure up anything else that he had missed.

I feel like a child.

"I'll be fine," I say. His eyes stared into me, then released his hand on my shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere. Just come back in one piece, all of you."

"Okay then," Tommy sighed, then nodded in acceptance. "See you later, Y/N."

       The others went up the dusty stairs, the door later creaking close. I sat in the ravine, picking at small crevices in the stone. 

       Jschaltt. He is the current president of Manburg I recall.  According to Tubbo's first impressions of him, he was rather chill—minus the memorable part where he threatened to execute the rest of the civilians.

       Tommy notes from a while past that Schaltt and I are not on the best of terms.  I wonder what I did to get on a president's bad side.

       And picking up from when Quackity slapped me yesterday—did I really try and chop his arms off? It seems unbelievable, but I suppose it is true if Tommy backed it up indirectly like he did yesterday. 

       I eventually gather my reluctance and force myself off the stone I sat on.

       The place is quiet when no one else is around. Eerily quiet. You notice some things you might not have before. Perhaps it is the boredom in your head that inevitably fuels your missed imagination to life.

       Something wet hits my head.  I angle my head up.  I spot a leak on the ceiling. It drips down every two minutes from what I observe, which is maybe why no one had pointed it out earlier. It is rather insignificant compared to what else is transpiring. But in this case where I have little to do, it bothers me.

       My hands rummage through the wooden chests sitting idly nearby. There is a lot of materials in here.  Wood, iron, dirt, cobblestone—especially cobblestone.

       My fingers hit something cool. Something metal.

       I pulled it out.

       A bucket.

       I smile.

Perfect.