­░⡷⠂DᴀʏDʀᴇᴀᴍ Hᴜɴᴛᴇʀ⠐⢾░

" Ａｒｒｉｖｉｎｇ "

They woke up. Without memories of their "previous lives"
He woke up. Without memories of his "previous life"
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A soft blonde man sat on his bed as purple swirls of particles seemed to disappear, where did they come from?

Ah.. the clock...

5:19 PM

Looking outside the window that was near his bed, rubbing his eyes as he tried to make up his surroundings.

A bed, he was previously sleeping on.
A mask on top of his bedside drawer.
A crown on his other bedside drawer.
Round glasses near a neat study desk.
The reflection of his blonde hair and emerald orbs on a mirror.
The sunset view in his bedroom.
T̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶e̶ ̶p̶a̶s̶t̶e̶l̶ ̶g̶r̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶b̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶i̶g̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶p̶j̶'̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶w̶e̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶.̶

Ah.. now he remembers! He fell asleep out of exhaustion from dealing with his brother(Tubbo)'s friend, Tommy. Chaos, a lot of chaos.

How does his parents get any sleep!?

He had to get ready for tomorrow's eventful day. A school day. A kind of where incompetent slacks or useless royals who cannot deem or even surpass the ups expectation..

If you were to mess up. You messed up. You die.
No coming back.
(A military school)
But if you're luck might peak.. some deities might arise you from the dead.
Or even luckier, the all-mighty ₳Đ₥ł₦

Ẃ̸̢̳̩͖̤͙̫͎̳̔̌̾͗̉̕͝͠ǎ̶̧̡͈̱̹̺̖͔̼͚̝͗́̽̅̎̈́̉͆̈́̇͊͗̄̀͌̕͘s̵̢̨̡̡͎̺̞̝͇̯̣̫̱̹͕̜̱͇̲̳̼̱̱̪̱̔͋̓̽̅̑̏̉͜͝͝͝ņ̵̲̞̩̘͙͍̱̹͚͇͖̱͓͚̭̮̀͜ͅ'̶̨̛̥̙͉̠̥̲̲͉̗͙̏̔̈́̾̿͌̅̃̕͝t̶̡̻̣̠̩͓̫̺̩̲͍̻̦̹̮̪̩̗̮̆͜͝ͅͅ ̸̧͛͒͆́͂̾̌͌͌̽ͅI̶̧͇̠̼̖̗̺̻͚͊̈́̀̾̓͛̄͐͌̽̆̾͛̏̆̀̈́͋̊̅̿͗͘ ̶̢̖͎̩͇̪̣̦̲̼͍͓͔̠͙̹̟̣̊̃̒̽̽̓̌̎͋̃̒́͒̾̿̽͘t̷̨̨͖͈̜̖͍̤̝̝͒͐͆͘̕͘͜h̵̨̛͈̩͇̞̥̹̗̫̻̼͎̯͛̀͋̐́͛̆͌̿̐̽̈̿͗͒͑̓́̐͆͂̒͜͜͝͝͝ȩ̶̧̡̢̤͔̺͕̘͇͚̭̞̤̮̜͖̮̬̹̬̝̱͈̼̇̊̆̔͑͗̑̎̍̈́͆̏̒͑͌͜͝͝ͅ ̸̢̡̛̛̼̥̪̫̯̠̝̳͍̹̺̥̺̟̻͚̰͓̼̣̖̻̻͉̼̾́͋̈́̒͋͒̂͂͌̀̓̃̇̌̈͋̍͘͘̚͜͝a̴̖̦̳̼̳͉͍̤͖̝̹̤̋̾̊̈̌̂́̕d̵̡̠̲̰̘̠̣͛̿̇͋̑̈́̓̾̋̊̂͘͜͝͠m̶̢̛̺͕̪͎̲̗̻̲̪͇̯̋̐̄̏̑͑̎̀͒̍́̃ͅį̷̣̬͇̟͇̤̤͔̟̫̩̤̩̦̞̥͌͐̍͐̓̀͂͜n̸̢̧̨̼̯̬̫̬̼͖͕̪͇͚̻̖̗͙̝͚̍̓̾̄̓́̃̿̔̉́͝?̸̧̢̛̹̠͓̝̝͔̭̲̮̬͇̜̬̫̗̞̊̈́̃̋̍̉͆͋̐͊̿́̽̉͗̓͋̂̋̚͘͠͝

A school to make you smarter, faster, stronger, someone who can fight.
S̶o̶m̶e̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶t̶h̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶y̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶p̶u̶p̶p̶e̶t̶s̶,̶ ̶@̶ ̶2̶3̶@̶0̶9̶!̶

He got up from his bed, walked towards his wardrobe. He stared at his reflection on the mirror connected to the wardrobe's door. Finding a bag he can put his belongings in wasn't hard, as suitcases were placed earlier beside his wardrobe.

Packing multiple clothes to use, things that weren't eye-catching or fancy like as it would get dirty either way.

My mask..

W̸̨̥͙̬̌͛h̵͍̰̫͛e̶̡̡̛̝̤͙͇ŗ̸̦̬̟̄̂̾̀̊̎͊è̸̗͇̅̇ ̸̫̹̮̖̣̀̾̍̆̍̽̐ḋ̷̥̩̾͐̚͠i̷̯̝͓̠̣͉̣͐̈́̃͆̿̄̾d̵̥͓̦͓̈́̆̈́͒̒́ ̶̛͇̘̃̄͋͋̕̕Ī̸̡͖̻̱̙̭̽ ̴̛͇͉̹͋̈́̓̋̂g̷̼̯̰͆͠ͅe̸̡̲̙͈̼͐̔ẗ̶̢̹͂̄ ̶̛̹̖͋̀̐t̷̬̰͆̆̊̉̿̐̒ĥ̴̤̼͐̓̎̑̄͝i̴͓̝̳̠̪̩̔̑̾̽s̷̨̛͚̲?̴̥͚̭̼̰͓͗̃̈́ ̶̄́̃̆͛̀͜W̵̰̘̰̻̞̻̾́͋̓̎̕ͅḧ̵̻́̇̀͛̕ỹ̷̥͙̘̬͉̈́ ̶̝͚̏͛̓̈́͊͊̚c̵̢̪̩̈́̓̐̔̄͊͝a̸̳̘̎̓ͅn̸̨̨̮̱̟͗'̶̛̰̀̿t̸̲̠͇͚͙̣̳͐͌͛ ̷̖̈̈́̍̓̐̈́̚I̶̛̩̳͊̔ ̵͚̲͖̖̊̽̿̍̃̓̇r̷̛̛̗̓̅e̶͎̫̟͕̽͑͌̃ṁ̸̨̤͕̗̘̮͍e̸̜̣̝͙͕͋m̵̤̒͒̕b̴͕͆̂̑́̅͐͒e̸̢̨̮͎̦͋̉̐͜͜r̸͙̥͕͍̔̅ͅ?̵͉̂̄̋̑̾͊