Madness takes its form in two separate ways.

      Or, humans who cannot deal with their realities.

Wilbur whistled softly, his pickaxe slung over his shoulder as he clambered out of his makeshift mine. His arms hurt like hell, but he smiled in content at all the materials he had collected. He emerged into their cold ravine, observing the various cobblestone patches interrupting the smooth stone, the only contrast in the barren cave. His smile dropped when he felt the familiar pang of guilt stab his stomach, a jolting reminder.

L'Manburg.

This isn't L'Manburg.

This isn't home.

He had suddenly become so cold, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he trudged to their ravine. He suddenly heard a loud bark echo through the ravine, and he jumped a little, frightened. He whipped around to see a small wolf wagging its tail innocently, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

The dog yapped again, obviously expecting something. Wilbur sighed, bending down to feed the little wolf a piece of his last portion of steak. He couldn't help the tiny smile that came to his lips as the little guy gobbled it up in glee.

"You're a hungry little guy, aren't you? How did you end up down here?"

Wilbur reached out to pet the wolves' soft fur, and the small dog nuzzled his hand affectionately. Wilbur noticed one of his legs was broken, dragging uselessly behind him. He must have fallen down the ravine and broken his leg on the way. Wilbur smiled sadly.

"I think we'll get along well, buddy. I'm sorry that you broke your leg."

Wilbur continued to stroke the little dog's soft coat, eyes filled with sadness. The little guy wagged his tail happily, oblivious to the cracks in Wilbur's voice. Wilbur's hand froze when he was suddenly reminded of petting Fundy's soft orange fur, singing lullabies, and rocking him to sleep. He always came to Wilbur when he had nightmares.

"You- you're not like him, buddy. You- you won't betray me like him, right?"

The little wolf tilted his small head in confusion at the tears beginning to form in Wilbur's eyes, nuzzling his frozen hand to encourage him to keep going.

"I can't trust anyone anymore, buddy. But I think I can trust you. You're a- you're a dog. You're not human."

Wilbur let out a sad chuckle, continuing to stroke the dog's fur again. He was sitting on the hard cave floor now, his legs crossed. The little dog climbed into his lap as he continued to pet him slowly.

"That's the thing about humans, buddy. That's the thing about people. They- they only care about what's best for themselves. They only care about getting the better deal, and then when they get it, they crush you and leave you behind."

Resentment was thick in Wilbur's voice as he clutched the wolf to his chest. He shut his eyes tight and tears flowed out of them.

"Was I not enough? Was I not enough for them?"

Wilbur choked out a small sob. Tears fell into the little dog's fluffy fur as Wilbur slumped dejectedly.

"But you're just a dog." Wilbur laughed, a sharp, painful sound. "I'm talking to a dog."

The tiny guy looked up at his tear-stained face. He suddenly licked his cheek with his warm tongue, wiping away his tears. Wilbur smiled softly.

"I think I'll call you L'Dog." He scratched behind his ear. "Do you like that name?"

L'Dog yapped happily in agreement, licking Wilbur's face again. Wilbur grinned at him, wiping the remaining tears off his face with the palm of his hand before standing up.

"I've cried so much these past few days, L'Dog." Wilbur started towards the central part of the cave. "My eyes hurt."

He suddenly froze. The ravine was quiet. Too quiet.

"Tommy?"

Wilbur's lonely voice echoed across the ravine. No one answered.

"Tommy?"

Wilbur whipped around, scanning every crack and crevice, searching for the skinny young boy. He couldn't find him anywhere.

"TOMMYINNIT ANSWER ME!"

Panic rose in Wilbur's chest as he flew through the cave. He clawed his brown hair like a maniac.

Why isn't he answering? What if he was hurt-

Tommy's broken body crushed under an avalanche of gravel.

Tommy's crystal blue eyes, unseeing as a skeleton's arrow pierced through his heart.

Wilbur's breath quickened in fear as the horrible images flashed through his mind.

"No no no no no-"

What if he went outside? What if he went back and didn't tell me and-

JSchlatt's horrible laugh, Tommy laying at his feet.

Tommy wandering around, lost in the dark, collapsing from starvation.

"No no no no no no no no no no no-"

Tommy could be hurt.

Tommy could be dead.

He couldn't lose him. He couldn't lose him, he couldn't-

"Wilbur?"

Wilbur whipped around to see Tommy standing on the top of the steps. He was breathing heavily, pushing his sweaty blonde hair out of his eyes as he grinned at Wilbur. His pale cheeks were covered in sweat and dirt. His diamond sword was clutched in his hand, showing that he had obviously gone outside, against Wilbur's instructions.

"Guess who I got?"

Tommy stepped aside, a huge grin still plastered on his face. Wilbur's eyes widened as a figure stepped out from the shadows, his long pink braid glistening in the torchlight. A slender hand emerged from the depths of his long red cape.

"So I heard you guys might need some assistance."

---------------------

Schlatt slammed his hand against the hard wooden cabinet again.

"WHAT!?"

Ponk cowered in the corner of the large White House room, cradling his broken arm. His black eyes flitted around in fear, looking for an escape.

"I-I w-was scouting the b-borders, sir, and I-I saw Tommyinnit and T-Technoblade l-leaving the city-"

"AND YOU DIDN'T STOP THEM!?"

Schlatt turned to him, eyes blazing in fury. Ponk scrambled back even further, trying desperately to pull down his mask even further to hide.

"I-I tried but that k-kid is a lot stronger than h-he looks- h-he broke my arm-"

"SO YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT KID- THAT CHILD! BROKE YOUR ARM- YOU- A SO-CALLED "PVP" MASTER-"

"I-I'm sorry, sir-"

"Get out of my sights."

JSchlatt's voice had gone from angry to chilling, sending Ponk scrambling in submission. Danger was thick in the air, and he wasn't staying around any longer.

Schlatt entered into the White House bathroom, seething. He suddenly slammed his fist on the rim of the sink, shaking the house to its core.

Shit.

He did it a couple more times, ignoring the blaring pain in his hand as it hit the smooth porcelain. He stopped when the aching had become too much to bear, and glanced up at his reflection in the crooked mirror.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes a bright, angry red. His black suit jacket was thrown aside, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was hanging off his huge frame loosely. His hands shook as they gripped the sides of the slightly cracked sink.

That kid. That stupid kid has to ruin EVERYTHING!

His fist came down with another loud bang.

I had everything in the bag. All I had to do was use that stupid little kid- that Tubbo- and I could break them down from the inside. But now they have hope. Their little hearts will be filled with some silly confidence and shit.

Schlatt saw a vein pulse in his forehead.

This Technoblade- this Technoblade would give them control. It would take control away from Schlatt. They would rally around this new hero- their savior, the one who rescued them. They would rise up in confidence. He would take away everything that Schlatt had worked for.

He needed control. He couldn't stand not having control.

Memories flashed by in his bloodshot red eyes. Oh yes, he remembered. He remembered everything. He remembered her.

Memories of being ignored. Of being pushed aside. She was always obsessing over "Tommy this-" or "Tommy that-" or "look how good of a hero Tommy is, Schlatt!"

And she would sit for days on end, pouring over pages and pages of writing, writing characters and making them happy, making them laugh, making them cry. Over and over again he would ask "Will I be in the next one?" and she had laughed. Her small, quiet laughs had slowly broken his soul and driven him over the edge.

And then one day she had gotten up and left. And he was alone in the cold, dark void. All he could do was watch as the characters had fun and laughed and played together, while he sat alone, neglected. He waited and waited and waited, trying to convince himself that she would come back. She needed him, right?

Schlatt didn't know how long he had sat there. Days? Months? Years? He had slowly started to realize that she didn't need him anymore. She had viewers now, and readers. People that would shower her with compliments on end. She didn't need Schlatt, a "character in her mind" to cheer her up.

But if he was "just a character" then why did he cry for days on end when she left? Why did he feel so cold and alone? If he was just a story, why did everything hurt so much?

And so Schlatt started to snap into the harsh reality. He studied characters. He found their flaws and every single little pinpoint that he could use to make them break. He watched them for days on end in his devoid black box until he knew them more than they knew themselves. They weren't real, anyway.

He knew that she had control over all this. And it drove him mad. He didn't have control over his own existence. He swore one day he would have power. He would be able to bend people to his will, just like she did. Isn't that all that writing was, anyway? Making characters bend to your will.

And eventually, that day came.

The day where he opened the door he was never allowed to pass through. The day that he discovered a book, THE Book, its weathered pages crinkling underneath his touch. The day he scrawled his name in ink, the harsh capital letters filling up an entire page.

He would make sure he wasn't easily forgotten this time.

Schlatt stared into his own eyes in the present. He huffed before turning away from the mirror, slipping his black jacket on again. He knew what he needed.

He just needed to feel in control again. He needed to make another announcement. Another announcement where he would assure the people that Technoblade was nothing to worry about. Simply a part of his master plan.

He adjusted his red tie again in the mirror. Being the ruler of this country simply wasn't enough. He needed to truly make it his, not that stupid Wilbur's.

He needed to change the name. That was the only way he could truly have power over the entire nation.

Manburg has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?