𝓐𝓫𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓮ᵍᵉⁿˢʰⁱⁿ

01 - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.

TW : Jubilee Line by W*l**r So*t. Song on youtube is not from W*l**rSo*ts account, so it doesn't support him.

Limbo-a forsaken realm that defied the boundaries of reality.

This place, an endless void of gray and whispers, was the place [ ] suffered for so long...and still counting. He spent many moments trying to get out, to no avail. What is this? did he really deserve eternal suffering with no escape?

The very air seemed to pulse with whispers, echoes of his past failures and the haunting sound of his own name being called out by unseen voices. At first, [ ] tried to make sense of it all, but each step he took only led him deeper into madness. The familiar became nightmarish; the landscape shifted and twisted, with walls bending and warping as if alive.

His memories, once clear, now fractured into chaotic fragments that spun around him like a disorienting storm.

In this realm, time lost all meaning. Days bled into nights with no discernible difference, and [ ]'s sense of reality began to fray. Shadows seemed to taunt him with distorted versions of his friends and enemies, their faces morphing into grotesque masks of derision.

Conversations he'd once had replayed over and over, but the voices were distorted, the words twisted into mockeries of their original intent.

Desperation set in as [ ] encountered the remnants of his own psyche-distorted echoes of his past selves. These apparitions mocked him, their voices a cacophony of blame and anger. He saw versions of himself that represented his guilt and regret, each one more twisted and malevolent than the last.

The Limbo seemed to amplify his darkest thoughts, his fears and insecurities crystallizing into monstrous forms that loomed over him.

His grip on reality weakened as he tried to escape the ever-shifting labyrinth. The paths he took seemed to lead back to the same nightmarish places, creating an endless loop of despair. The once-familiar terrain now felt like a prison of his own making, each turn only driving him further into a spiral of insanity.

In the depths of his madness, [ ] began to lose track of time and self. His mind fractured under the weight of the relentless, echoing whispers and the haunting, ever-changing landscapes. He questioned his own existence, even.

The trains came and went, receiving many, but when he tried getting on it, he was sent back, rejected, unwanted.

His insanity seemed to get worse, as all he could to was talk to himself, and these endless voices that mocked him every day-if there was day.

However, he started to meet people- past enemies like Schlatt, or even Tommy!

It was wonderful; now he had entertainment. The goat-man had some cards that he could play, and sometimes- he could even see from the eyes of his replacement, Ghostbur. He despised that filthy wretch that took his place. Too innocent, too naive. Not made for a world like this.

But ofcourse, all bad things come to an end. With a triumphant grin, he won against Schlatt in cards- after 72 tries.

Then, a train stopped. [ ] ignored it, since they never came to get him...but this time, the conductor called out his name. The face was blurred, but it almost seemed like- Dream..?

Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream. Dream- Dream!

His savior! His hero...

Finally, he could exit this forsaken Limbo and return to Dream Smp... [ ] laughed maniacally, the triumphant grin on his face never leaving as he strode to the train doors. Looking back at Schlatt one last time, he winked at him. "So long, Schlatt." and thus, he took a seat, and waited.

The train ride was smooth, nice, even.

But as the scenery changed and he found himself in a place resembling the Taiga biome in the overworld, where he'd been to many times, but...It was different. Different civilization, their clothing was different- heck, even the buildings were strange! The buildings, which combines opulent, baroque-style buildings with the practical necessities of surviving in such a harsh environment, were something that would not be seen in most SMP's if not all!

And there stood a majestic, cold and towering palace, right above the strange place, on a mountaintop of sorts. The majestic palace was an architectural marvel, combining elaborate design with functionality suited to the freezing temperatures and detailed artistic designs.

And though the author had no idea what they were typing, it could all be explained in one word-Marvelous.

It was grandiose, the aura of the place enveloping the towering structures in awe-striking shapes, colors of the aurora reflecting off the frozen ice that lay still on the cold waters, as many were long asleep.

The train stopped abruptly at an abandoned-looking place, most likely a factory of infrastructure, which the author has no idea about but the place was old, creeping and shadows lurked in the dark of the barely-lit place.

Stepping out of the train, [ ] found himself in an unusual place. A strange and foreign land, filled with untold mysteries and lore of many.

With a bright, terrifying grin, he walked into the darkness, becoming one with the horrors of the night.

"Lady Signora." said a skirmisher, rushing into the eighths office room with no heed to proper courtesies or manners.

Irked, the fair lady glared at the lowly fatui, being in the middle of touching up her make-up in the ungodly hours of the day.

"What do you want, pest?" Flinching at the dark tone she used, the servant stutters out an answer. Sweat dripping down his body from top to bottom. Whether it was from the unusual changes of energy from the abandoned delusion factory, from the fear of the fair lady's wrath, or maybe even both, we may never know.

Signora stood up, having finished touching up her make-up and now adding on her accessories and furs, she smirks arrogantly.

"A problem in that dusty old factory of the second? I guess I'll have to bring it up to him today." The thought of a problem for the red-eyed madman giving her great amusement, her eyes curling up in delight which soon turned into a cold glare telling the skirmisher to leave at that very instance.

As the servant scurried away, Signora grinned with evident mischief, her eyes reflecting the flaming embers still torturing her with old memories till this very day, and she opens her mouth to speak.

But then a knock stops her from starting her words, a servant from the other side announcing the beginning of the annual Harbinger meeting. Her lips curve down in distaste.

"What a shame."