The Arctic Reaper |Dream SMP Fanfic

~-Chapter 12 - betrayed-~

A/N: Sorry, it's a short chapter...Kinda realised that I forgot to put this in the last chapter, but it was such a good ending to the last chapter, I didn't want to write more words >:)

*deep inhale of air*

COMMENTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[A/N: Nishia is climbing/walking down a mountain because it's been several days since she left the arena/tournament...I'll include the summary later.]

~-Nishia POV-~

Amid the chorus of the trees that sing notes of brightest green, is a pebbled mountain path. The mountain path is a sculpture of rains, snow-melts, and passing soles. A mountain path, hugging the curves of the land, rises to our right.

There are times we are called upon to take the road not travelled, as a sort of scout, checking its safety, ensuring that it leads to some place of greater love than to stick to well-known routes. Such exploration takes a degree of courage, a pure seed of faith, and a complete determination to do what is right for others.

My mind went back to the past few days; the moment where I killed Illumina, the minute where I finally realised how to win the match, the bit where I reunited with Technoblade. My mission was to see what the world had to offer- and what I saw didn't surprise me. The danger of humanity and risk was unfathomable, but with the help of a force, you had a chance to prevent it. Humanity is a virtue linked with the basic ethics of altruism derived from the human condition. At least that was my observation so far. But who has ever found the answer in a matter of weeks?

No one.

As I zoned back into reality, I spotted a village at the bottom of the mountain. There was a hug of houses in the green that together made a village. But as I neared the family of the houses, I realised it was a ghost town. The ghost town was not a place, nor a thing of this reality, yet a pocket of time and space that was a hospital for lost souls. No one was there as I stood there until I spotted a daily edition of a newspaper. The newspaper was released 2 days ago.

The daily paper was shrill as always - ranting titles to stir the middle classes into a more mobile type of apathy. The letters to the editor deserved to be printed in green ink and the photographs were framed just badly enough to be annoying. As I scanned the newspaper, I noticed in big, red letters, "THE ARCTIC REAPER IS BACK, RUN!" On the front cover was a photo of me in the black cloak, the familiar scythe in one hand, a flint and steel in another. I found another piece of paper in a diary, saying that they were going to leave the village because a man spotted me walking down the mountain.

What?

But.

I...

I didn't even harm anyone. I killed the one man that the government feared. Why did they want to spread propaganda about me?

I looked for the writer of the article, Arthur Lewis, one of the government officials. He knew about the original Arctic Reaper.

I felt...betrayed.

Betrayal is a conscious choice for cold indifference, to take a personal gain instead of a loss that would have saved the other. What I did was shatter into a million shards as I broke, all the while trying to protect the government... while you stabbed and swung vile words of propaganda. I had a responsibility to save the people. But the government was beyond saving. That was their choice. And in that, you chose my duty too. It took the only option left... and that was to not trust the government.

A/N: I'm going to act like this is the end of an "arc"