Assassin|| C!TNTDUO

▽╹≧Assassin 2 Electric Boogaloo≦╹▽

(A/N: can you guys tell I temporarily gave up on the chapter titles😭)

Wilbur POV:

They reached the castle before it woke up, the silence strange, except for the occasional birdsong.

The guards were still posted outside, but most of them had either nodded off or weren't paying much attention, so it wasn't hard to slip by.

They didn't speak much but occasionally Quackity would turn and look at him and he would grin back or say some hilarious sarcastic remark, to which Quackity would roll his eyes and hide a smile.

They had just made it a long hallway near Quackity's room when he spoke.

"Thank you...for, y'know, keeping me company," Quackity said awkwardly.

Wilbur smirked. "No problem, I've been told you need it."

Quackity made a noise of indignation. "Hey! Who's been saying that?"

Wilbur started laughing but then the hairs at the back of his neck rose as he sensed something behind him.

Before he could even process or think, he acted, his hand whipping out to the side of his head.

He caught the arrow just as it whistled past his ear.

Quackitys eyes widened in shock as he looked at the arrow pointed straight between his eyes.

His eyes flicked to Wilbur in fear but Wilbur was already spinning around, throwing the arrow to the ground.

He saw the edge of a coat flicker around the corner and took off.

Quackity yelled something behind him but he wasn't listening, flying around the corner and following the dark shadow running just as fast away from him.

The other assassin. So there was another.

He could tell by the figure's stature and athletic ability it definitely wasn't Creedin or Veralda.

As he got closer he could make out a scarlet bandana covering the mouth of the assailant, the only color standing out from his dark coat, boots, and hood.

"Hey! Stop!" He called out which was stupid in hindsight because, of course, it didn't work.

He ran downstairs and into the courtyard, pelting across the paved ground with reckless abandon.

He suddenly remembered the knife tucked into his boot and reached for it.

If he could hit this person, he could at least follow the blood trail. He wouldn't kill him, because technically, they were on the same team and that might not be very sporting.

But by the time he aimed the knife, the person went past a pillar and disappeared.

Wilbur caught up to the spot and looked around in frustration, puffing a little.

But they were gone.

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Quackity POV:

Someone was trying to kill him.

He thought back to the Candelabra incident. Of course, it hadn't been an accident. He'd had his suspicions, but this confirmed it, didn't it?

He didn't know why- wait, scratch that, of course he did. He was the crown prince!! How many people probably wanted him dead right now?

He hadn't even thought about it, but now it was the only thing he could think about.

Thank god Wilbur had been there to save him both times.

Which was a tad coincidental now that he thought about it.

Maybe he was just lucky, but he didn't believe in luck.

He looked down the hall and started off down it. Maybe he could catch up now the shock had worn off. Rather than standing there like an idiot.

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Wilbur POV:

He returned to where he left the prince but found no one there. He checked his room but he wasn't there either.

He was about to leave but spotted a small desk where a glass bottle and flask sat slowly collecting a thin layer of dust, obviously set out the day before.

He approached it and examined the bottle. The liquid was a deep red. If not for the consistency, it would remind him of blood.

He stared at it for a few seconds silently, tilting the bottle around and around.

His fingers played with the small vial in his pocket subconsciously, and he eventually drew it out.

Tipping it to the edge of the bottle, he hesitated, just for a moment, before tipping it up all the way.

Its contents swirled into the liquid but quickly blended in as if nothing was different.

He turned, face devoid of all emotion, and left, pausing at the doorway briefly before moving on.

He needed to talk to Creedin.

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Schlatt POV:
*Current time*

He needed to talk to Creedin.

The last letter he'd sent had been a few days ago and he needed to update him on the current proceedings.

His original plan had been to simply infiltrate the castle, envenom the kingdom from the inside out, slowly making his way to the top.

Just like his own.

By the time he led this kingdom to his own, it would be with Dream's crown resting on his head.

But things hadn't gone so smoothly.

First of all, he wasn't sure if that irritating general had got to him, or if Dream had been toying with him the whole time, but it seemed obvious that Dream didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth -or at least took it with a grain of salt.

Which obviously was a smart move for Dream. But it sucked for Schlatt.

He'd told Dream that if they went to his own castle, he could travel in alone and get them to surrender so the Dreamsmp could take over.

Sapnap immediately contradicted this idea, saying that there was no way they would let him go in alone.

"It won't work if I'm accompanied." Said Schlatt with gritted teeth.

"It'll have to." Said Lord George simply.

They sat around the war table, Dream sitting silently at the head.

Schlatt opened his mouth to protest but Dream suddenly spoke, with a tone that gave the final word.

"We go."

Lord George gave him a look and Sapnap looked as if he wanted to argue but Dream ignored them.

"We go," he repeated evenly, "and if he's lying, we just use him as leverage."

He shifted in his seat and a smirk played at his lips.

"And if they don't want him back, we can kill him."

He turned to Sapnap. "Either way, we leave at dawn. Ready the army."

Sapnap smiled for the first time since Schlatt had seen him.

"Yes sir."