Choice 1: "Dreams Come Alive"

Ghost Steve was writing a hasty note to his friends, explaining he was returning the portraits to their original place and might not be back for a while.

The morning stroll back was nice.

It helped calm the ghost's nerves.

Between the horrifying dreams he didn't feel worthy to tell others and take up their time,
And the small bits of information throughout his task to restore the paintings,
Ghost felt like he was constantly shaken up.

Guess that's what happens when you put the history of an entire violence-prone alternate world all on your shoulders, huh?

He laughed lightly to himself in the calm breezy air of the Overworld.
It felt good to have a laugh he was sure was a happy one.

The trip took a bit over half an hour, and he arrived in the topmost layer of the crypt needing a drink.

Carefully reaching into his inventory, he grabbed the single water bottle and chugged half of it.

Placing it back in the gray inventory box and shutting his inventory, he pulled out several torches.

As the Steve sped through the standard crypt level, he placed torches along the right wall, so he could quickly find his way back.

As soon as he finished placing all except for his last torch on the two levels, the ghost stopped and opened his inventory.

Putting away the single torch and closing his inventory, he pulled a pair of thick gray gloves out of his pocket.

Time to get to work.
.
.
Minutes later, the translucent man had placed the sheathed paintings leaning against the walls, below their respected placement.

He set off unwrapping each, quietly whispering each name three times in hopes of remembering them later.
.
.
.
Finally, his hard work was over.
Ghost leaned against a wall on the last hallway, taking a sip of water and eating a potato.

He sighed, happy to see the art someone put so much effort into back to its former glory.

Stuffing the gloves back in his pocket, he grabbed back his torch.

Down the last hall of portraits, he walked down yet another dark and chilling stairwell.

Now this. This was interesting.

The brick was worn, yet not cracked and mossy yet on both the walls and floor.
There were multiple torches, despite little to none on the last two levels.
There was a stained red carpet along this hall, water dripping from a crack somewhere in the ceiling.
There seemed to be multiple rooms veering off from this place.

But what was so odd was the items placed in various glass containers and item frames.
They looked way too clean to possibly be from this crypt.

Sure...there were maps and plans and other odd things he'd not find in a crypt in the other hallways...

But not quite like this.

There were many swords and weapons throughout the place, but there were other items.
Buttons, hats, uniforms. All dusty like they'd been there for a month
Why?

That was the one question going through Ghost Steve's mind.

Why are these items all here..? And why are they in such good condition? Who kept them clean?

Looking into the first room on the left, he spotted a meeting room.
There was a slightly burned image of...some sort of moving structure pasted to the wall.

It seemed to have 4 wheels, like a minecart, but it was much larger. And it had a top, with a strange add-on built atop it.

There were five seats surrounding the small wooden table, a flag laying upon it.

The item frame in the main hall closest to the meeting room was of..a declaration of independence?

In the room to the right, there was a single button upon the floor. Several chests lined the walls, but all were empty.
A single sign sat on the wall, faded with time.
Ghost had to get close to read it.

"It was never meant to be, boys."

Those simple words scared him. They were said so many times in his dreams... He would've left way faster if it wasn't for the sunglasses he noticed laying on the floor, cracked.

The portraits.

The dreams..

That crowned man.

Eret.

This must be a retelling of history.

The second level being the cast..
The third being the story.

Walking out of the room, he had one firm question in mind.

What does all this mean?

The dreams, these items, the portraits- why am I experiencing their lives through my dreams?
Why are these things here? Why does a "human" settlement that never existed in this world have a crypt here?

Ghost was determined to find out.

And so he went through each of the rooms, meticulously looked at every item, explored every nook and cranny.
.
.
.
.
The slightly translucent gray figure sat on the floor, staring in malcontent at the long hall he had inspected fully with determination.

[YoU aRe FiLLed WiTh dEtErMiNaTiOn nyeheheh]

The vague information drowned his head, making it hard to think. There was no answers. Just physical items from his dreams mocking him.
He knew these events did happen. He didn't need the solid proof that either he's getting glimpses of dead people's lives in his sleep or he's gone insane from handling those portraits.

Ghost groaned. He didn't want to deal with these questions.

So he sat.

And ate a baked potato.

Eventually he decided to head down another layer..

But what would he find?
.
.
.
.
.
The Steve picked back up his torch, leaving his stone sword close within reach in his inventory hotbar.

He sighed, staring at the vague shadow his form casted along the gray bricks.

Who knows how long he'd be down here.

It was normal for him, sure, but would his friends go looking for him if he was gone for more than a day?

Or would they even go looking for him if he went missing..they didn't need to deal with a Steve with broken sight and bare minimum memories anyways..right?

He pushed away those thoughts as he pushed a lock of hair out of his face.

Time to descend.

This final staircase twirled around itself, just like the others. But it felt..longer.
Deeper.
Further into the unknown.

His lone torch couldn't reach the bottom of the cold, vast emptiness.
Vines creeped up along walls and broken stairs, sometimes falling and making him jump or causing the Steve to nearly slip.

After one near fatal fall, the ghost questioned if this was all worth it.
Just to get some answers.

...

Based off of how vague the previous levels were, and the difficult-to-recall dreams, he didn't think it'd get any better.

Yet he stood, venturing deeper into the abyss below.

Time passed.
And soon the gray ghost was resting against a cold, crumbling wall, exposing plain stone. Eating bread. Again.

That was when he looked down into the hole the stairs spiraled around again and again.

Was that...

The edge of one wall?

Maybe it was just the wall growing too far to see.
He'd never had good vision. Well..from what he recalled.

But still.

It gave the stiff, sore man some hope.

Hope that this was all worth it.

His subconscious excited, he stood. He hadn't given his body enough time to recover...Now his feet ached and his shoulders were worn with effort of holding the torch high.
Yet he immediately began to journey down deeper again.

It was growing colder.

He swore if it got any colder, he'd be seeing icicles.

As he neared the supposed outcrop of wall, it was real!
The moss-covered walls completely stopped maybe ten blocks down, all besides one wall. Which he leaned on as he surveyed the underground structure laid out before him, shrouded in darkness.

It was impossible to see how far it went; the dark gray bricks expanding beyond and into the emptiness.

How far did they go..?

The walls, he noted, were no longer the usual gray; they were a charcoal black. The stairs remained the ordinary stone brick Ghost knew well.

But these..
These dark bricks he did not know.

They felt Nether-born, yet he had never seen the blocks in such a desolate place. Only the deep red of the Fortresses' bricks stood firm within the hellscape.
But he did vaguely recollect the material being in his dreams.

Picking up speed, he climbed downwards.
All he could see was darkness beyond his singular light.
The cold air had begun to grow warm.

Why..?

Oh no.

Was there lava hidden somewhere in the walls?!

He came to a halt when that thought struck him.

What if there's traps?

The ghost walked considerably slower now, not willing to risk getting caught on a tripwire.

Thankfully there were none.

Yet..

It was still growing warm.

Warm enough to house plants, probably.

The thought crossed his mind as he swung a bit too quickly around a corner.

And hit a tripwire.
.
.
.
.
.
Fear raced through his mind like an arrow.
Palms growing sweaty and tension rising, he glanced up into the hole within the stairs. Nothing.

Maybe down below..?

Gulping, he kneeled down and stared off into the dark. That was when he saw it.

A glowstone lamp.

Illuminating a grassy area, covered in flowers and tall grasses.

Another lit up nearby, showing off a beautiful oak plank slab path. Below was a deep hole, only five blocks wide, hidden.
Within stood three small towns, not unlike the variants seen in his dreams.
A redstone mechanism connected a person-sized bucket to a long lead, tied securely to the wood.

But then he noticed what the caricatures of the little nation were.

...

They were of its "peace" and its conflict.

Barely out of view were the biggest moments in L'Manburg's conflict-ridden history.

Its beginnings- with white flags, TNT, arson, and "it was never meant to be."

Its story- with elections, presidents, fireworks, buttons, and "my unfinished symphony, Phil! Forever unfinished!"

And its end- with discs, Withers, prisons, wolves, and "he described me as a pawn...This is checkmate. This is it. This is the end. I suggest you resign.."

The scenes were even more terrifying when he knew the context behind them...experienced these wars through his dreams...

It was sickening.

Yet..

This pit only went deeper beyond the three levels.

But the Steve did not dare go further.

For his own sanity's sake.

It was bad enough seeing those blasted words each time chaos reigned in the third level, but this was worse.

Why did it lead from a single button, to burning trees, to blowing up every safe place people create?

'It was never meant to be...'

That phrase will leave a pit in my stomach every time I hear it.

But Ghost Steve stood once again, his fearful thoughts looping through his mind.

I can't leave now, even though these events have probably given me secondhand trauma.

I need to see the rest of the place.

And so he brushed himself off, and made a mental note to never look down that hole close up.

Looking up, he saw winding paths of various woods connected to each other, some even rising up into the air, as if following the curve of an invisible hill.

Recalling the dreams, this was called the "Pog Path," right? No, wait. "Prime Path."

He looked over the massive hollowed underground room, noticing how the lights only reached maybe 100 blocks across the expansive room, there was still another side yet to be uncovered.

There in the center was the tree he had seen burned to a crisp.
It was larger than it was before.
Fuller too.

Soon he was down the stairs and on the gray brick floor. Putting away the torch, he looked around the environment lit up around him.

Between the paths close to it and the tree's carved wooden roots, lay miniaturized objects, places, and people.

Hidden in the grass and flowers.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, the translucent ghost went to investigate.

The green grass crunched under his feet as he looked down to a trio of dolls sitting in front of the tree.
They all looked so happy.
Even the green and white blob they called 'Dream' looked so kind and happy.

The two 'humans' were fighting with each other, but the trio seemed more likely to be play-fighting.

It made the Steve smile.

A duo lay in the grass close by.
A small blue diamond-like figure and a tall black demon creature with white eyes were sewn together hugging.

BBH and..Skeepy? No not quite...Skeppy! Yeas, that was the name of the diamond boy!

To the left was a second duo, this one of a 'human' wearing a red and orange mask of sorts, and what looked like a creeper hybrid.

He couldn't recall the name of these two.

The Steve passed by another two dolls. One being feminine, wearing a black facemask.
The other had animal horns attached to a hood- a deer of course- but the Steve doesn't know what that is. They had a red nose and blue mask covering their face.

Both went unnoticed.

But what was noticed was three duos, close to one another.

He picked up a small duo of two younger humans, the ones from the second level that were oddly close together. Toobu and Tommy right...no Tubbo actually I think.

Both had rather chaotic but happy expressions, and they were sewn together with hands wrapped around the other.

The green shirt boy had his other hand reaching out to a small yellow and black flying animal. It was literally just a single letter, an..e? Not quite...ah! A bee!
While the taller boy had two discs he held in his free arm, boy did this Tommy guy love his discs.

The familiar man from the dreams, who had brown hair in a curl, sat nearby.
He was holding onto a tiny orange wolf-like person, their big black eyes looking out at the world. Fundy the fox, if he remembered correctly.
It was adorable, if it weren't for the knowledge of what the man named Wilbur would go through.

And only a bit away were the winged man and the pig man he knew as "Philza" and "Techno." They had their arms over the other's shoulders, swords in hand.
And despite being shorter than most of them, Ghost had the feeling the blond man was the oldest of the lot.

There were various other dolls and some small buildings and objects, but Ghost Steve went back around to the front of the tree.

On a sign was the name "L'Mantree."

And in the hollow center of the oak's trunk was a portal.

Unlike anything the Steve had ever seen.

A portal to a place of chaos.

The gray Steve stared at the curious thing.
It wasn't there before.

And no portal should be able to do this.

Within the neon green ring was an ever-changing image of real scenes he had just seen in the caricature pit.

Walls.

Flags.

TNT.

Withers.

Destruction.

He did not wish to enter this realm of "humans," that could cause him a second death.
He didn't want to know what they could do to him, ghost or Steve.

So he sat by the stairs.

And wondered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Choice 2: "Digging Deeper"

Ghost Steve picked back up his torch, leaving his stone sword close within reach in his inventory hotbar.

He sighed, staring at the vague shadow his form casted along the gray bricks.

Who knows how long he'd been down here.

It was normal for him, sure, but would his friends go looking for him?

Would they even go looking for him if he went missing..they didn't need to deal with a Steve with broken sight and bare minimum memories anyways..right?

He pushed away those thoughts as he pushed a lock of hair out of his face.

Time to descend.

This final staircase twirled around itself, just like the others. But it felt..longer.
Deeper.
Further into the unknown.

His lone torch couldn't reach the bottom of the cold, vast emptiness.
Vines creeped up along walls and broken stairs, sometimes falling and making him jump or causing the Steve to nearly slip.

After one near fatal fall, the ghost questioned if this was all worth it.
Just to get some answers.

...

Based off of how vague the previous levels were, he didn't think it'd get any better.

Yet he stood up and ventured deeper into the abyss below.

Time passed.
And soon the gray ghost was resting against a cold, crumbling wall, exposing plain stone. Eating bread. Again.

That was when he looked down into the hole the stairs spiraled around again and again.

Was that...

The edge of one wall?

Maybe it was just the wall growing too far to see.
He'd never had good vision. Well..from what he recalled.

But still.

It gave the stiff, sore man some hope.

Hope that this was all worth it.

His subconscious excited, he stood. He hadn't given his body enough time to recover...Now his feet ached and his shoulders were worn with effort of holding the torch high.
Yet he immediately began to journey down deeper again.

It was growing colder.

He swore if it got any colder, he'd be seeing icicles.

As he neared the supposed outcrop of wall, it was real!
The moss-covered walls completely stopped maybe ten blocks down, all besides one wall. Which he leaned on as he surveyed the underground structure laid out before him, shrouded in darkness.

It was impossible to see how far it went; the dark gray bricks expanding beyond and into the emptiness.

How far did they go..?

The walls, he noted, were no longer the usual gray; they were a charcoal black. The stairs remained the ordinary stone brick Ghost knew well.

But these..
These dark bricks he did not know.

They felt Nether-born, yet he had never seen the blocks in such a desolate place. Only the deep red of the Fortresses' bricks stood firm within the hellscape.

Ghost Steve quickly pulled out his booklet, noting the brick walls surrounding him on all sides.

Picking up speed, he climbed downwards.
All he could see was darkness beyond his singular light.
The cold air had begun to grow warm.

Why..?

Oh no.

Was there lava hidden somewhere in the walls?!

He came to a halt when that thought struck him.

What if there's traps?

The ghost walked considerably slower now, not willing to risk getting caught on a tripwire.

Thankfully there were none.

Yet..

It was still growing warm.

Warm enough to house plants, probably.

The thought crossed his mind as he swung a bit too quickly around a corner.

And hit a tripwire.
.
.
.
.
.
Fear raced through his mind like an arrow.
Palms growing sweaty and tension rising, he glanced up into the hole within the stairs. Nothing.

Maybe down below..?

Gulping, he kneeled down and stared off into the dark. That was when he saw it.

A glowstone lamp.

Illuminating a grassy floor, covered in flowers and tall grasses.

Another lit up nearby, showing off a beautiful oak plank slab path. Below was a deep hole, only five blocks wide, hidden.
Within stood three small cities, not unlike the variants seen in the above level.
A redstone mechanism connected a person-sized bucket to a long lead, tied securely.

Realizing this could be visuals to what history he gathered from the third level, Ghost didn't wait for the rest of lights to turn on.
He picked himself up, letting his legs do their thing.

Soon he was down the stairs and on the gray brick floor. Putting away the torch, he purposefully ignored the environment lighting up around him.

Instead, he went straight down into the long sandy ditch under the bridge.
Laying on his belly, Ghost stared down into the pit.
What he saw fascinated and frightened him.

On the topmost right, was the first. The one within black and yellow walls. Small, yet lovely.

To the left, across the gap, stood the identical recreation of the little settlement.
But this had white flags outside the blown apart walls, within he could barely see the lush grass beyond false TNT blocks.

The lower level had no walls.
The right had a great stage, someone standing behind its podium, hands greedily strangling the edges.
There was a crowd in front of this man.

But two stuck out.

A yellow-haired boy and a brown haired young man.
They looked frightened by the man atop the stage, seemingly attempting to hide.

But to the left was a far more gruesome sight.
The same place, but there were multiple scenes occurring.
On the decorated stage stood a pink figure and a box.
Holding something like a bow but on its side, shooting not arrows but fireworks.
Fireworks into both a crowd and a young boy sitting in the box, surrounded by two men.
One he knew from the stage scene before, but both were shot by the figure..
Not one seemed to survive the gory event.

But that was only the closest scene to the edge of the pit.
The other was..unnerving.
Atop towers stood the faceless green and white creature and the stage man, both shooting into a crowd of over a dozen.
But one member of the crowd had hit the stage person in the chest.
A fatal wound.
His bow was flying into the air as he fell the other direction.

But that was not all.
The final scene showed the strange not-minecart moving thing from the inside.
Ghost saw the stage guy holding a bottle, on the floor. He had horns, but the Steve didn't recognize the animal they belonged to. The man was holding his chest in pain, looking half-dazed.
Around him stood every single other person, directing those strange bows to the dying man.

For someone wearing a suit and tie, he did not look all that professional. Or smart.

But the worst part was that everyone seemed to be against him, unwilling to help.

The next scene to the left was by far the worst.
But Ghost Steve directed his eyes to the right.

...

There was nothing.

The same scene from before was there, the towers, the dying man.

So he looked back.

The left was a horrible sight.
The terrifying creature he only knew from legend, the Wither. A tall, ugly beast of strength and raw hatred for the living.
Two were admist the chaos of the scene.
Many people looked to be fighting, some each other- like the pink figure and the yellow-haired boy- others against the horrifying Withers.

In a broken room, sat a broken-winged blond man.
In his lap lay a dying man, killed by the blond's own hands.
The same brown haired young man from the previous scenes.
Blood was spilt everywhere from the stab wound, the winged man looked to be weeping.

While around him lay chaos and death.

The pink figure stood atop the highest peak, a dark skull held within his angered grasp.
He must be the one who created those beasts.
Lain across the broken terrain near the room was redstone and gunpowder.

The dying man set off the explosions.

Explosions which tore apart the once beautiful land.

But that was not the final scene.

The last version of this community was actually rather cute and kind looking. Small buildings strewn out across the terrain, flags, snow all over.
It felt like the place was healing from the past at last.
But he saw a man in a bloodied outfit holding an axe, looking upset at a person Ghost could only describe as the leader, a very young one at that.
The axe wielding man held a paper with pink on it.
Must have something to do with the pink figure who killed him in the other stage scene.
He could barely make out the yellow-haired kid looking sad far off in the distance, the green and white person sticking out with a powerful aura.
To one side was a red mass, like an egg but with these...vines coming out of it?
A tall black figure looked to be worshipping it.

And in a separate scene...was the winged man, looking to be almost chained to his home.
He appeared to be crying out to the pink figure down below, who was being held against his will within iron bars. He had an almost pig like appearance.
He was struggling to grasp..something- was that a totem..?- before the anvil above fell upon his unarmored form.

The axe-carrying man had set off the lever to..kill the pink one?!
Ghost was scared of what these people were becoming.
He already was, but now he's terrified.

There were two other figures, attacking the group who seemed to have ordered the pink person's death.
At that point it was hard to tell who was good and who was bad.
.
.
...

He was wrong.

The place looked to be getting better, but so many things were still going wrong.
Ghost knew that, but some part of him hoped these strangers were in a good place for once.

The last scene was even more terrifying than any other.
The place was healing, then everything was lost.

Atop a giant obsidian grid stood the green and white man. It floated above the terrain, high into the sky. He was placing TNT and letting it fall onto the already destroyed ground.
He was clearly leading this destruction himself.

A girl stood in front of a great tree, Ghost had seen it before but hadn't considered it important.
Within the obsidian walls, the flames burned bright.
She had set it ablaze.

Yet something felt off.

There was an entity much like Ghost himself floating nearby her, keeping to themselves.

Was this ghost the reason for the woman's arson..?

The pig man from before was on the ground, many were fighting him but he and the dozens of dogs surrounding him fought them off.

He was causing a massacre, a simple man picking off people one by one.
The dogs were being killed too..
It saddened the Steve to see all this death, despite he himself being a ghost and all.

But the winged man from before was in one corner, holding charred black skulls.
Wither skeleton skulls.
He had set off maybe a dozen or more of the vile three-headed skeletal monsters.

The creatures shot foul blue skulls at any living being, tearing away more and more of the land.
It was a bloody battlefield of fear, hatred, death, and destruction.

The trio had caused so much destruction to an already damaged people and land.

It was sickening.

Yet..

This pit only went deeper.

But the Steve did not dare go further.

For his own sanity's sake.

It was bad enough seeing those blasted words each time chaos reigned in the third level, but this was worse.

Why did it lead from a single button, to burning trees, to blowing up every safe place people create?

'It was never meant to be...'

That phrase will haunt me in my dreams.

But Ghost Steve stood once again, his fearful thoughts looping through his mind.

I can't leave now, even though these events have probably given me secondhand trauma.

I need to see the rest of the place.

And so he brushed himself off, and made a mental note to never look down that hole again.

Peeking up from in between the grass, he saw winding paths of various woods. Some even rising up into the air, as if following the curve of an invisible hill.

There in the center was the tree he had seen burned to a crisp.
It was larger than it was before.
Fuller too.

Between the paths close to it and the tree's carved wooden roots, lay miniaturized objects, places, and people.

Hidden in the grass and flowers.

Pulling himself out of the ditch, the translucent ghost went to investigate.

The green grass crunched under his feet as he looked down to a trio of dolls.
They all looked so happy.
Even the green and white blob looked so kind and happy.

The two "humans" were fighting with each other, but the trio seemed more likely to be play-fighting.

It made the Steve smile.

A duo lay in the grass close by.
A small blue diamond-like figure and a tall black demon creature with white eyes were sewn together hugging.

To the left was a second duo, this one of a "human" wearing a red and orange mask of sorts, and what looked like a creeper hybrid.

Again with the hybrids.
Why were they a thing, yet no Steve has ever seen one?
Were they like the "humans"?
Did they just..
Look different?

The questions flew around the Steve's head as he passed by another two dolls. One being feminine, wearing a black facemask.
The other had animal horns attached to a hood- a deer of course- but the Steve doesn't know what that is. They had a red nose and blue mask covering their face.

Both went unnoticed.

But what was noticed was three duos, close to one another.

He picked up a small duo of two younger humans, the ones from the second level that were oddly close together.

Both had rather chaotic but happy expressions, and they were sewn together with hands wrapped around the other.

The green shirt boy had his other hand reaching out to a small yellow and black flying animal.
While the taller boy had two discs he held in his free arm.

The familiar man from the previous situations, who had brown hair in a curl, sat nearby.
He was holding onto a tiny orange wolf-like person, their big black eyes looking out at the world.
It was adorable, if it weren't for the knowledge of what the man would go through.

And only a bit away were the winged man and the pig man. They had their arms over the other's shoulders, swords in hand.
And despite being smaller, Ghost had the feeling the blond man was the oldest of the six by a lot.

There were various other dolls and some small buildings and objects, but Ghost Steve went back around to the front of the tree.

On a sign was the name "L'Mantree."

And in the hollow center of the oak's trunk was a portal.

Unlike anything the Steve had ever seen.

A portal to a place of chaos.

The gray Steve stared at the curious thing.
It wasn't there before.

And no portal should be able to do this.

Within the neon green ring was an ever-changing image of real scenes he had just seen in the caricature pit.

Walls.

Flags.

TNT.

Withers.

Destruction.

He did not wish to enter this realm of "humans," that could cause him a second death.
He didn't want to know what they could do to him, ghost or Steve.

So he sat by the stairs.

And rested.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Fairy Portal"

"Oh oh my...that's beautiful..but wh-what do I do when I get there?? I don't want to accidentally upset people because I don't know anything!"

"Easy. They're pretty nice, so just ask. In this server, humans aren't naturally here, nor are they controlling the main place. Only one man currently lives here. Ask for Sabre, he'd be happy to help you out."

"Saber? Like the sword??"

Rosie facepalmed at that. "No- well yes, but it's S-a-b-r-e. It'll be pretty obvious who he is, none of them look human besides two entities, Alex and Origin. Even then, it's sort of like how whether or not Bad is in his human form, he gives off demon energy.
Sabre's the blindfolded guy in a chicken suit. Don't ask, I don't know why."

"Oh! That's a relief! Thank you Rosie!"

The man shifted his gaze to the portal.

"No problem. Also. Chances are you'll spawn in a crypt, not the town. But don't worry! There's someone at each of the most likely candidates so you won't be alone!"

"Okay! But..wait..you said I could communicate with you through my tablet, are you going to leave me??" Ghostbur was ready to cry again.

"No no no! We're the Sky People, we sort of have to watch from above. So we can't be seen by people most of the time. But you can message me in particular if you're lonely!" Rosie smiled sadly.

Ghostbur gave her a bittersweet smile.

"Aw, okay I can't- fine let's hug you big cutie," suddenly the cloud disappeared, and as she fell, she grew into a short young lady.

Her gray eyes were far more obvious, yet Ghostbur couldn't tell if they were actually gray or a mix of many colors.

The two smiled.

Holding each other in a warm hug, tears ran down their cheeks.

"You have so many tricks up your sleeve," the ghost murmured gently, releasing the girl from his bear hug.

"Same to you. See you in the skies, Ghosty."

"See you in the skies."

With that, the once lonely ghost fell through the waves of color.

Red.

Yellow.

Green.

Blue..

Purple.

The man laughed loud and passionate as he held onto his hat, through forests of rainbow colored trees and swirls of colors.

Until he landed on his back on a brick floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay- listen- look at how long this is- 5615 words for this one chapter-

I'm so surprised I actually wrote nearly double the words I wrote for the WTWM chapter 3 (somewhere in the 3000's) for ONE part of a three-day oneshot.

To be fair, I did basically copy-paste the 2nd choice's parts in both chapters and mushed them together with the 1st choice's lore to make the first part of this chapter.

Also when I went to do that, Wattpad started acting up and eventually I had to double device to get anything done.
BUT! I did in fact finish editing it and removing certain details from the originals so it both flows better and you get exclusive content depending on your choice! 😊

And I should add- in total, this oneshot is 8674 words as a whole, written over three days while I have to pack for my camping trip.

The published WTWM main chapters total at 11659 words. That has been going on for maybe a month and a half or two months. During summer break. When I have nothing better to do.

If I had the kind of energy with that like what I had with the oneshot..
I'd be able to get through dozens of books.

Buuuut I don't ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
That's just how life goes! =^l

And here's some character designs I just made in FlipaClip!

And to let you know: I will be offline until Friday. If we get back early I may be back in contact that day. Otherwise you'll have this and WTWM to satisfy you til Saturday.

I won't be updating much when school returns either, since I'll be in person instead of half online or fully online.

But we've got a month to that, so don't worry! I'll have lots posted before then!

Besides, my birthday's right around the corner! I'll most certainly have something cool set for then, see ya in like two weeks for that, and one for my return!

see ya!! ^~^