Through Potions and Books it's still, you isn't it?

Chapter eighteen

Wilbur knew the young vigilante wasn't doing okay the second he left the office building. The apparently resistant suit did very little to protect him from flames and the phantom hybrid hissed as he flames picking at Theseus' uncovered bare skin. It would leave very ugly burns which would potentially even scar, but the teen pushed through.

He hated that Techno had actually allowed the young vigilante to help them, Theseus was way too young to be risking his life out here. Tubbo had gotten proper training, had access to medical help and potions in case of an emergency and neither Phil nor Schlatt would allow the teen to get even remotely close to a situation like this. But Theseus didn't have that.

The hero didn't know where he'd gotten the suit from, it looked to be high quality, despite its very obvious little resistance to fire, and whoever had designed it put a decent amount of work into it. They had also given him a proper mask with a voice modulator, allowing the young vigilante to talk to them. Wilbur could hear the anger in his voice as he laid out his arguments for being allowed to help. It was true, he was swift, agile and his rather skinny appearance would allow him to squeeze through small openings if necessary, something neither he nor Techno or any other hero would be able to do. Wilbur hated that he needed his help. He knew Techno wouldn't be able to go into the building to help rescue the people and Jack, the piglin had used his ability, had killed the pyromaniac using his own blood, something which made the voices go absolutely mental. The phantom was sure that if he had actually decided to get inside himself, he'd have lost it and killed all the people in that room.

That didn't mean it made watching Theseus stumble down the stairs, the bleeding form of a woman in his arms, any easier to bear. Phantom could hear his laboured breathing through the mask he wore, which was more like a faceplate covering the front of his head than anything else. It reminded him of Dream's mask, and just like Dream's it only covered his face, not the entirety of his head.

Blonde hair, looking to be almost golden in the orange light of the fire. The hero was sure of that now, they'd have to add that to his file and sort through the matches with the little information they had. It would take some time, but eventually, they'd find him. And then they'd get him to a healer and then probably therapy, he'd need it after everything. And then they'd all give him the scolding of a lifetime. And maybe an apology, he wasn't sure of that yet.

As the cold air of the night hit him and he helped the young vigilante set the woman down on the ground, he frowned at the sight of Theseus' hands. Part of the gloves had burned off, revealing pitch-black fingertips and Wilbur would've written it off as intense burning from the fire if it wasn't for the fact that the vigilante was still able to move them. That should not have been possible.

As the paramedics took over he watched as Theseus stumbled away from the form, breathing even more laboured as harsh coughs rattled through his chest. He frowned, hand on the pouch. There were still some potions left, mainly healing and regeneration. They were supposed to be for emergencies, for his family and close friends and potential victims, depending on how high their survival rates are. He grabbed the flask, lips pressed in a tight line as he began walking over to Theseus, who had been swaying on his feet, dangerously leaning to one side. Techno was faster, grabbing the vigilante by his shoulders as he tried to get his attention. The kid was out of it, that much was clear.

Wilbur quickened his pace, flask with the bright pink liquid tightly gripped in his hands, but his brother had already decided on a different route, dragging the almost limp vigilante to an ambulance. Likely to get an oxygen mask and proper treatment. Unfortunately, the realisation that they'd have to take off his mask must've activated his fight or flight instinct, and Wilbur watched as the vigilante pried himself away from his brother before bolting into the dark, stumbling over uneven ground in the process.