Chapter 6: Storm on the Horizon
The morning of the confrontation was colder than usual. The clouds hung low and heavy over L'Manberg, casting a gray gloom over everything. The camp was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that only came before something terrible. Soldiers and civilians alike moved about with a nervous energy, eyes flicking toward the horizon where the Syndicate's camp had grown, now a dark, looming presence on the outskirts of their territory.
Tommy stood near the walls again, the cold biting into his skin, but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the distant enemy camp, frustration and anticipation boiling under his skin. The past few days had been a mess of preparations and strained conversations. Despite their reconciliation, the weight of what lay ahead still hung between him and Tubbo.
Tubbo had spent the morning in strategy meetings, coordinating with the rest of the leadership team, leaving Tommy on the outside once again. He knew Tubbo was trying to keep him from getting hurt-or worse, making a rash decision that could tip the balance of the fragile peace. But that only made Tommy feel more useless.
As if on cue, Tubbo appeared, walking briskly from his office. His face was set in a determined, focused expression that Tommy had come to recognize. It was the expression Tubbo wore when he had made up his mind.
"We need to talk," Tubbo said as he approached.
Tommy turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"
Tubbo glanced around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. "The Syndicate. They've started moving."
Tommy's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean 'moving'? Are they attacking?"
Tubbo shook his head. "Not yet. But they've sent scouts closer to our borders, and they've been building up their defenses. We can't wait much longer. If we don't act soon, they're going to have the upper hand."
Tommy felt a surge of adrenaline. Finally-something was happening. The waiting was over. But Tubbo's next words stopped him in his tracks.
"I've decided we need to try diplomacy first."
Tommy blinked, taken aback. "Diplomacy? With them?"
Tubbo nodded, his expression firm. "We don't know enough about what they want. If there's a chance we can avoid a full-scale war, we need to take it."
Tommy's frustration flared. "And what if they don't care about talking? What if they're just waiting for us to show weakness so they can wipe us out?"
"We won't know unless we try," Tubbo countered, his voice calm but resolute. "I've arranged a meeting with their leaders. I'll be going to their camp tonight."
Tommy stared at him, disbelief and anger bubbling up. "You're going? Alone?"
"I'll take a few people with me," Tubbo said quickly. "But yes, I'll be leading the negotiations."
Tommy couldn't believe what he was hearing. Tubbo was walking straight into enemy territory, trusting these strangers to play by the rules. It was madness.
"No way," Tommy said, shaking his head. "I'm not letting you go alone. You don't know what they're capable of."
"Which is why I'm going," Tubbo said firmly. "We need information. We need to understand what we're dealing with."
"Then I'm coming with you," Tommy shot back.
Tubbo hesitated, his eyes flicking over Tommy's face. "Tommy, I-"
"No," Tommy cut him off, his voice rising. "I'm not sitting on the sidelines again. Not for this. If you're going into that camp, I'm coming with you. End of discussion."
For a moment, Tubbo looked like he might argue, but then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But you have to promise me-promise me-you won't do anything reckless. This isn't about fighting. It's about gathering information."
Tommy crossed his arms, his jaw set. "I'll behave. But I'm not going to stand by if things go south."
Tubbo smiled faintly, a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "I wouldn't expect you to."
---
That evening, the small group set out for the Syndicate's camp. Tubbo, Tommy, Ranboo, and Niki moved in silence through the forest, the only sound the crunch of leaves under their boots and the occasional distant call of a bird. The tension in the air was palpable, everyone on edge as they approached the heart of enemy territory.
Tommy's pulse quickened as they neared the camp. He could see the tall, dark walls of the Syndicate's base in the distance, torches flickering along the perimeter. It was bigger up close than it had seemed from L'Manberg's walls, and Tommy felt a pit of unease settle in his stomach. He didn't trust these people. He didn't trust this plan.
But he trusted Tubbo.
As they approached the gates, they were met by a group of Syndicate guards, their faces hidden behind masks, their weapons gleaming in the torchlight. One of them, a tall figure with a menacing air, stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he looked over the group.
"You're the L'Manberg delegation?" the guard asked, his voice cold.
Tubbo stepped forward, keeping his expression neutral. "Yes. I'm Tubbo, president of L'Manberg. We're here to discuss terms."
The guard eyed Tubbo for a moment, then nodded sharply. "Follow me."
They were led through the gates and into the heart of the Syndicate's camp. It was surprisingly well-organized, with rows of barracks, supply stores, and training grounds. Soldiers moved about with purpose, their faces hard and focused. This wasn't a ragtag group of rebels. This was a well-oiled machine, and that only made Tommy more uneasy.
They were brought to a large tent near the center of the camp, where the guard gestured for them to wait. After a few tense minutes, the flap of the tent opened, and three figures stepped out.
The leaders of the Syndicate.
Tommy's breath caught in his throat as he recognized one of them immediately. The figure in the middle was tall, with a black coat and a familiar scar running down his face.
Technoblade.
Tommy's heart raced. Technoblade-the legendary warrior, the one who had helped tear down L'Manberg in the past, the one who had fought against them time and time again. And now he was standing there, calm and collected, as if nothing had changed.
"Well, well," Techno said, his voice cool and detached. "If it isn't the president of L'Manberg. What brings you to our humble camp?"
Tubbo stepped forward, keeping his voice steady. "We've come to talk. We want to know what you want from L'Manberg."
Technoblade exchanged a glance with the two figures beside him-Philza, his face set in a grim expression, and a masked figure Tommy didn't recognize. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"What we want," Techno said slowly, "is for you to stay out of our way."
Tommy's fists clenched at his sides. "And if we don't?"
Techno's eyes flicked to Tommy, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Then things will get... messy."
Before Tubbo could respond, the masked figure beside Techno stepped forward, their voice sharp. "This isn't a negotiation, Tubbo. We're not interested in peace. We're here to make sure L'Manberg never threatens us again."
Tommy's heart pounded in his chest. This was it. This was the line being drawn, the moment they had been dreading.
Tubbo took a deep breath, his voice steady but firm. "We won't back down. L'Manberg won't be intimidated."
Techno's smile widened. "Good. I like a challenge."
The meeting ended on a knife's edge, with no agreement, no truce-only the looming threat of war hanging over them all. As they left the Syndicate's camp and made their way back to L'Manberg, Tommy's mind raced.
The storm was coming. And this time, there would be no turning back.
The lines were drawn.
And the battle for L'Manberg's future was about to begin.
