Inception {Dreamnotfound}

17 | The Deception | 17

-Zak's POV-

I didn't even reach the camp before I realised I was too late.

It became apparent as soon as I noticed someone else so far into the forest, or rather, several people. Looked to be at least a few less than when they set off, which was at first reassuring, but quickly became less so once I recognised someone new with them.

There was no way I could've interfered. No matter how much I wanted to, was tempted to, I knew that it wasn't safe. I'm never concerned for my own safety anymore, but by stopping them right there, right then, like I so badly wanted to, I would definitely be endangering Tubbo's.

That feeling was what stopped me, made me stay in the shadows and follow them back to their destination instead. The feeling of being powerless once more. Having something that can be used against you, force you to do what you so desperately don't want to.

Nonetheless, I followed them back here. All the way back to the same derelict building I found them in yesterday, back to their leader. Who is eagerly awaiting their arrival, I notice, stood in the doorway expectantly. They glance at the first member to approach them, waiting for a nod of confirmation before allowing the rest of the group to enter.

Among them is Tubbo, trapped between two heavily armed members. One of them holds a threatening dagger barely an inch from his throat, and I'm once again resisting the urge to interfere, tell the teen that these people aren't going to kill him. I'm thankful to have overheard what I did earlier, know that Tubbo is safe for at least a little while longer.

Despite this, there's a few signs of injuries on Tubbo, evident that he wasn't as willing to cooperate as the group were hoping. The most obvious of which is the way he stumbles, footing unevenly distributed to one side. It's like he's trying to lean his weight all one way, wincing every time it sways towards the other. There's a few more minor cuts and scratches, most of which littering his face, but he doesn't look seriously harmed.

"So you must be Tubbo," the leader mutters, and I can picture the twisted smile hidden beneath that mask. It's paired with an arrogant sneer, identical to the many others I've heard before. The ones I received after bringing in new information, following their orders like I always had to.

Tubbo nods stiffly, mindful of the dagger still so close to his throat. Any major movement could be lethal, and the fear in his eyes shows that he's aware of it. Multicoloured, evident he's still wearing that band that the leader wants so badly. I notice Tubbo's hand tightly gripping his left wrist, circling something to hide it.

But strangely, his right is bare, and there's no second band on his left.

So where's my band?

What if he doesn't have it anymore...

"Where's the other one?" the leader spits, realising what I just did seconds before. They tug Tubbo through the crumbling doorway of the building, and I edge along the outside wall to follow them.

"What other one?" Tubbo asks cautiously, shrinking against the wall behind him. "Don't play dumb with me, child!" Yelled furiously, and with no warning, there's suddenly more blood spilt. I cringe at the bloodcurdling scream echoed through the room, one so harsh and raw I swear it makes the walls shake.

When my eyes open fully, the left one is stinging. Tubbo is clutching his, fresh tears covering his cheek, along with a fresh cut when his hand is forcefully pulled away by the leader of this evil group. This one looks to be more of a gash, cut far deeper than the rest and already spilling floods of crimson.

"Consider that your warning," the leader laughs maliciously, voice filled with venom. They let go of Tubbo, using their now free hand to adjust the jet-black halo above their head.