MC YTs Oneshots

The Final Blow

TW // Death, Angst, Cursing, General Panic

Villian Wilbur stuff.

The two were overlooking Manburg from a hill, the shorter staring morosely at the remnants of the country they had built together. The other was crouched down, finalizing the redstone. Their fireworks display would be one to remember, that's for sure.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Getting cold feet?" Wilbur asked, his pitch just slightly higher than normal, as he looked up to stare at the young man whose gaze was fixated on the newly rebuilt podium. The newly placed lever seemed to beckon him, begging to do its job, but Wilbur resisted the urge. After all, it wouldn't be much of a show if he didn't wait until his cue.

"Wilbur, big man." Tommy chuckled awkwardly, though his tone was far from humorous, turning his head to look down at the former president. For the past week, they had been having what felt like the same conversation, and each time it felt like Wilbur was spiraling further and further into insanity. "This isn't the way, you know that. Surely you must know that." His tone was begging, as it had been more often than not that week.

"Enough!" Wilbur stood quickly, turning to face Tommy. His expression was one of stone, his tone being the only indicator of his emotions. "If you're too bloody scared to finish this, I'll do it alone! I never needed your help anyway."

That single statement. That final verbal stab. That's all Tommy needed to finally realize the horrible fact he'd been trying to ignore the past week. His friend, no, his brother, was gone, lost in the illusion that was quickly becoming their reality.

So, ignoring the tears that were appearing in his eyes, Tommy glared at the man he had admired and had grown to call a friend. "I won't help you take them down. Not like this." With that final cold statement, Tommy turned and left, pulling a radio out of his pocket and fiddling with the knobs, presumably to contact Tubbo, the only other individual who had known of the plan.

Wilbur was the villain now and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Maybe Wilbur hadn't meant to drive everyone away. Maybe he just wanted Tommy to understand his motives. Maybe he couldn't contain his emotions any longer and had just simply burst. Wondering why is pointless. He threw everyone aside, with no hopes of getting them back, too absorbed in his quest for power and overwhelming paranoia to care.

Everyone was against him so it didn't matter anyway. Yes, Tommy's betrayal hurt, but he didn't focus on that. There was a reason he had done most of the work without Tommy. Even if he tried to mine out all of the dynamite that now filled the ground of his former nation, Tommy and Tubbo had no chance to find it all. No, this only ended with the destruction of everything.

Wilbur pulled out his own radio, which was identical in every way to Tommy's, and quickly switched to Manburg's broadcast. He wanted to hear the reactions to his show. It wasn't enough to see them. He wanted to hear the screams of fear. Hear the sobs of anguish as they all realized the fate that had befallen them and their poor nation.

Manburg would fall tonight.

"Tubbo, you have to get him to call off the festival!" Tommy screamed into the small walkie talkie, no doubt blowing Tubbo's eardrums. "He's going to fucking do it!"

"Tommy, I can't! You know as well as I, he'd just blow it off anyways!" Tubbo retorted back, his tone just as panicked as his friend's. "We...We can't stop him, can we?"