Empty Page

Chapter 1

It was time.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she took a deep breath to slow it - in through her nose, out through her mouth, just as she had been taught. She looked through the glass barrier to the white wall behind, scanning for a spot, a crack, anything to distract her from the overwhelming excitement and dread. The wall stared back, blemishless and bright.

"Commencing final countdown."

It was going to be okay. She had trained for this. Deployment was the easy part; it was what lay beyond that would be difficult. She would not be the same person when she returned - if she returned - but that was a sacrifice that she was willing to make. That she had to make.

"Five."

This was for humanity.

"Four."

She would survive, like humans were prone to do, like the thousands of others on the ship had done.

"Three."

She would find them a home. She would find them a safe place to live. She would succeed where other scouts had failed.

"Two."

Observe and report. She recited her mission in her head, its familiar cadence providing direction to her haywire thoughts. Observe and report. Observe and report.

"One."

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the sensation of her atoms riping apart.

"Deploy."

Bright light penetrated her eyelids, the machine roared in her ears, she was lifted off of the table. Observe and report. The thought seemed distant now, as did her fear. Observe and report. Her consciousness was crumbling, her mind breaking apart one neuron at a time. Observe and report.

She awoke in the shade of a spruce tree.

***

Pulling his insulated coat over his shoulders, Tubbo turned back to Michael. "It won't be long. Just a few hours."

His son stared back at him, his eyes wide and innocent. Tubbo remembered when he himself used to look at others with that same stare. He pushed the memories away.

"I'll be back before nightfall," he promised. Giving Michael one last reassuring smile, he lowered himself out of the room.

Snow had fallen the night before, and Tubbo brushed it off of the front steps as he left his house. He gazed at the collection of buildings before him. This was how he liked Snowchester: sparkling with muffled snow, dark wood accenting the shimmering white. He liked to imagine residents bundled up inside the houses, cozy and warm despite the icy weather. However, Tubbo knew that the interiors of the houses were just as cold and quiet as the exteriors.

He made his way to the mansion, clearing a path out of force of habit. Maybe today was the day he, Ranboo, and Michael would finally move in. He paused, catching his breath and staring up at the giant structure before him.

"Who am I kidding," he muttered. "We could never fill a house that big." Although some of the rooms were big enough for farms.... Maybe he could make an automatic sugar cane farm for Ranboo to manufacture paper for his books. But Dream would never allow that.

Tubbo's stomach lurched and he turned away from the mansion. Even from prison, Dream still controlled his thoughts. Screw that. He would make an automatic sugar cane farm in the mansion just to spite the stupid green blob.

Trudging resolutely through the snow, Tubbo headed back to his house. He could gather materials before heading to work, and hopefully finish the farm in the next few days. It would be a nice surprise for Ranboo.