We've all heard by now the sad news about losing one of our most beloved creators. My heart goes out to his family and to all who are struggling with the news. My DMs are always open to you guys if you ever need anything. <3

Fly high, king. 

You stared at the rising sun, fingernails digging into the windowsill. It had been another night with no sleep, the hours being filled with running back and forth to Pogtopia and back, helping Schlatt run the country, and finishing Wilbur's shopping list of supplies, including Dream's Crossbow. Somehow, you still weren't sure how, but you had managed to convince Dream to wait until Wilbur was ready to hold the meeting. He conceded. So now, you were sipping yet another coffee and watching the town slowly wake up.

Last night, around 2 in the morning or so, Fundy delivered a report to Schlatt about a small caravan of travelers who were passing through and wanted to stay a few days. The president agreed, and now the small band of adventurers were filtering into Manburg, marveling at the buildings.

"Y/N, hand me that file by the cabinet, will you?" Schlatt asked, looking up from his nearly empty beer bottle. You obliged, leaning over to grab the papers, careful not to drop them or spill your coffee. He grunted with thanks as you handed them to him, flipping the pages over and scribbling something at the bottom of one, probably a messy signature. You'd never seen Wilbur doing paperwork- surely, that meant Schlatt was a better president, right? He took care of his country.

You frowned, mentally smacking yourself. What were you saying? The whole point of voting Schlatt in was that you'd be free and L'manburg- sorry, MANBURG -would burn itself down due to an incompetent president. He wasn't supposed to be a good one, and you certainly weren't supposed to HELP him this much. The paperwork must've messed with your head.

Pushing away from the windowsill, you flipped up your hood, grateful to not feel the heavy weight of the crown on the top. You'd cut it off last night because it was too heavy and annoying and flashy, not exactly the best for a fighter and a spy to wear. "Goin' to work already?" Schlatt called to you. You didn't answer, snatching Orphan Slayer up from the desk and strapping it on. Then, it was masks up and out the door to meet the travelers. 

The town was more awake and alive today, probably due to the thrill of the caravan coming through. Tubbo was standing awkwardly outside the White House, swallowing and looking away quickly as you exited. You ignored him. Niki and Bad waved to you from nearby the road, but, before you could join them, you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder and turned to see Quackity standing there. 

"Sorry if I spooked you, amiga," he said, grinning. "I'm looking for George- I'm hoping he and I could go meet the caravan representing Schlatt." You bristled.

"Am I not good enough?" you asked defensively. You weren't sure why, exactly, but you felt... left out. Replaced. Annoyed. 

Quackity laughed. "Nah, nah, calm down- I'm just tryin' to find George 'cause I haven't seen him in a while and thought he might be interested in meeting the newbloods. You're welcome to tag along, if you like, amiga, I just didn't think you'd be so interested. It's not like you're gonna be around that long to have an actual position in Schlatt's cabinet." You started to get defensive again, but he butted back in before you could say anything. "Chill- I'm not saying you're gonna DIE. I just mean you're always talking about getting out of here as fast as you can. I didn't think you'd care that much."

You turned away, muttering something. The heavy sound of horses galloping made you jerk your head up as a small band of travelers entered the gate. They were tired and dusty but looked strangely overjoyed to be standing in the middle of Manburg- You had no idea what was wrong with them but obviously there had to be SOMETHING wrong for them to be HAPPY to be here.

One man had weirdly blue hair, probably colored with cornflowers or orchids. A bright, albeit dirt-stained yellow bandana was tied around his head like he thought he was some ninja or something. You followed Quackity over, and, while he greeted some woman with a chessboard carefully cradled in her hands, you went to talk to knockoff-assassin-boy.

"Welcome to Manburg," you greeted him cautiously, unsure of what to say. As usual, your social anxiety was already creeping up your spine, promising to have you running screaming by the end of the hour.

"Hey!" The guy said, straightening some communist-looking pin on his shirt and brushing the dirt off of his jeans. "Sorry for the dust- we haven't really seen civilization in a while." He stretched out his hand. "I'm Ninja."

Alright, pause.

It's not your fault if you laughed because the dude's name was actually NINJA- like, did his parents hate him or something? WHY WOULD YOU NAME YOURSELF AFTER A CREEPY DUDE WITH A KATANA AND, LIKE, PYJAMAS? WAS IT HIS JOB? BECAUSE IF SO, THAT'S- THAT'S JUST AWKWARD. NOBODY SAW YOU WALKING INTO POGTOPIA WITH "SPY" WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE, DID THEY? NO!

Anyways, your laughing spasms were perfectly justified and he had no right to be offended.

Okay maybe he did but that's another story.

"Sorry, sorry, lack of self-control," you said, struggling to make your brain cooperate again. "It's just- isn't that a bit... on the nose?"

"What's on my nose?" Ninja asked, confused. It made sense why he didn't get it- Manburg had a lot of WEIRD sayings.

"Not, like, ACTUALLY on your nose- it's an expression. It means... I don't know, obvious? Like naming a dog "Dog"?"

His frown deepened. "I don't know. It's what I got named, and so it's fine with me." He stretched his arms above his head, spine cracking. "Enough talk about my name- I want to see Manburg!" Ninja grinned. "Don't you find it weird to live in a democratic country?" he asked as the two of you started out.

"Um... No?" you replied, hesitant to answer and confused as to why he was asking such a strange and abnormal question. Had he guessed your lineage? Or was it just not as common where he came from? "Why?" A bit of your suspicion leaked into your voice, making Ninja blink and shake his head.

"Oh- no, not like that. It's not anything personal against Manburg, or your choices, or whoever the president around here is." He squinted at a poster of Schlatt, looking far more alert and sober than he usually was, as they passed. The poster was a part of some propaganda campaign Quackity had started in a futile attempt to try and convince Eret and Niki that Manburg was better than Pogtopia. "It's more of a thing against democracy in general," Ninja explained, still on the topic of politics. "I started this... religion, of a sort. Half-religion, half-political party, I guess." He straightened his pin with obvious pride. "I call it Ninjology. It's amazing really- basically no one reall-"

"Y/N!" Someone called from behind you. You turned, surprised to see Eret running at you. "Sorry to interrupt," she apologized, "but I really need to talk to you." Ninja, definitely noticing how tense and uncomfortable you looked, gave you a quick smile and left, heading towards Niki and Bad. "Listen, I'm so sorry to- I know you don't like me," Eret said in a rush. "I gave you a pretty good reason not to back during the revolution, but please listen to me, because you know I wouldn't make you talk to me if it wasn't important."

You crossed your arms, sighing. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

"I need you to take me to Pogtopia." He held up her hands as you tried to protest, explaining, "You're the only person I can trust to not rat me out who knows the way there, or, at least, give them a message for me. I've made farms underneath my castle for them- turtle farms, food farms, beacons, all that stuff. I..." they hesitated. "I know Wilbur and Tommy hate me too, but I want to help." She met your eyes. "I want to prove that I really am sorry for what I did to you guys, even if I die in the process."

Closing your eyes, you weighed the options. "Alright," you said suddenly, not missing the look of relief and joy that flashed across Eret's face. "I'll tell them." You slung your pack back over your shoulder, not looking ahead to the journey to Pogtopia. Your legs already ached, not to mention the weird thing going on with your mind...

You decided to forego grabbing your horse, electing to instead walk the way to Pogtopia. It wasn't too far- even if you were bone-dead tired -and it would give you some more time to think about... everything. 

And so you left, grass crackling underneath your feet as you moved and crickets taking flight as you disturbed them with your walking. The weather was lovely, the sky the perfect shade of blue with the autumn stormclouds building darkly to the north promising snow and rain within the next few days. The peaks of mountains ringed the country to the west, slopes white with ice and taiga forests full of thickly needled pine trees prepared for the heavy winters Fundy told you this land experience. To the east, there was a vast ocean, one you had walked along to reach this place.

And then the woods enfolded you, and you walked into Pogtopia, surprised to see Dream, standing right in the middle of the ravine, speaking earnestly with Wilbur.

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1628 words

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Hey guys! 

I'm alive!

Sorry about the break in chapters, I've been doing some angsty shit with another SMP fandom. 

But we're back!

Really excited for this area of the book as this is when stuff gets... fun.

Also there's a lot more lore and characters to write about than the last few chapters.

Love y'all- remember to hydrate, my children <3