three

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george

"And you're certain we're not going to get caught because truly this is all fun and games, but-" Tubbo was interrupted by the swift motion of Wilbur holding a lantern in his one hand while his other held his index finger towards his lips, eyebrows furrowed. Eyes piercing with frustration as we reached the barrier of our town.

"Right, sorry." he apologized before pursing his lips together in a thin line.


"There aren't any like- wild animals out and about on the trek right Will because, when you said 'just bring yourself,' I took that quite literally," Jack added empty-handed in a calm voice behind the tallest of us and his source of light.


"There are, but they're shit scared of any form of light source. We should be fine since George and I are guiding," Wilbur stated all-knowingly. George found it impressive, to say the least, that Will attained this knowledge in his few years of exploring while the rest of the group followed the rules at all times. This was the first time George did anything remotely dangerous or out of the ordinary, and it was by far the most dangerous and out-of-the-ordinary thing he could even think of. The group volunteered to jump straight into the deep end on this one. 

The trek was long and endless. The darkness that engulfed them made it feel infinite since even the wall itself seemed to disappear during the night, blending with the obscurity of the evening sky. Along the way, the sounds of infamous creatures lurked around as the dark-haired boy and his friends pushed through the tall grasslands. The closer he sensed they got, the louder his heartbeat in his chest, practically trying its best to break through his ribcage. However, George didn't have much time to acknowledge the feeling growing in his chest as his thoughts were interrupted by his foot which had caught onto something on the ground, dropping the lantern as he toppled over onto the floor; the petit boy tried clinging to the soil of the descending hill until his downward motion came to a halt.


"George!" Tommy cried out; the faint light from the top of the hill became brighter now. 

 "I'm fine, I'm okay," George muttered as he got up to face the four. Their faces were barely visible with the lack of light surrounding them, but their attention was no longer fixated on their friend who'd taken a tumble but on whatever was behind him. 
"Guys, what are you-" George started but was interrupted as Jack grasped onto his tiny shoulders, his mouth ajar, and slowly turned the pale man around to face what they fell silent gawking at. Soon, George's expression matched theirs. It was there; it was right in front of them.
"The end of the world," Tommy whispered while Tubbo whistled, a wordless comment at the height of it in person. Then, unexpectedly, George was the first to step forward, something very unlike the man, but so far, most of his actions today haven't been something he'd typically partake in.

 "George, be careful," Wilbur said assertively, "you don't know anything about this thing."

Wilbur was right; George was utterly clueless, which made it all the more intriguing. He was always fascinated by the fallen ones and the things they left behind. They seemed far more advanced than George's people had ever been or ever would be, for that matter. All the dark-haired man ever had was books and photographs to go off of and let his imagination do the rest but this? This was right before him. There was nothing the fallen ones left behind explaining what was on the other side of the wall. No information whatsoever, so why was George to believe that his people knew anything about what was beyond the looming structure at all?

He truly had nothing against his people, but with all the rules and regulations, there was an evident barrier stopping them from expanding their imagination- their creativity. It was all blockaded by what needed to happen rather than the possibilities of what could happen. Cold. 

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