A/N: so after reading passerine, i really couldn't help but think of dream as a spider, those who have read the story, yk what i'm talking abt ;)

Wilbur trekked down the hallway, his lips thinning as he took in the lighted hallway. He really preferred it when the storage hallway was half-lit, with soul lanterns. I'll have to speak to Grian about the change. He made a mental note before pushing open the metal door to the arena.

Wilbur immediately coughed as an onslaught of dust greeted him. He doubled over with hacking coughs and let the dust flow past him. Wilbur stood up, the dust dissipating slowly, and entered the arena.

How long has it been since anyone's used this? He wondered to himself. There's so much dust...

Wilbur lapped the arena, examining the condition of the room carefully. Everything seemed perfectly fine, except for the fact that there was too much dust, and that Grian had added more light sources. Wilbur frowned. He liked the eerie glow of the soul lanterns.

Satisfied and wanting to find Grian to make the changes to the arena, Wilbur exited the room. He pushed open the metal door, adding oiling to the list as the door creaked, and yelped as he fell into a hole.

Before Wilbur could do anything, several needles pierced his skin. Panicking, the man turned his head to spot a blanket of needles, all pointed up. The needles weren't very long, nor sharp, and when they poked his skin, it barely hurt. Wilbur relaxed a little when he realized that he wouldn't get hurt, at least not badly.

Alright, no major injuries. Wilbur thought to himself. Next thing, how to get out of here.

But he didn't have a chance as the world spinned in front of his eyes, and Wilbur realized, too late, that there had been poison on the needles.

~~~

Tommy brushed the dust off of his shoulders as he entered the Guardian's Hall. "That was some battle." He said to Tubbo.

"Sure was." Tubbo replied. "I wonder why they retreated."

Tommy was wondering the same thing too. Sure, Dream was outnumbered at the fight, but they were pretty good fighters. Dream had taken on Tommy and Tubbo together before, and he had won that time, so why not fight again? Scar and Grian were pretty equal fighters, and so were Phil and Punz. Tommy knew - although he'd never admit it - that Dream was the better fighter, and he could definitely kill Tommy and Tubbo in a 2v1.

So why had he retreated? Tommy wondered. Before he could think any further, Grian came up to him. "Are you hurt?" He asked.

Tommy shook his head, smiling at Grian. "I'm fine. Jarred my arms a bit in the fight, but other than that I am perfectly fine."

Grian nodded. "Tubbo? Phil?" He turned to ask.

"We're all fine." Phil replied. "I wonder why Dream gave the command to retreat though."

"I was thinking the same thing." Tommy added.

Grian tilted his head in confusion. "Didn't Dream retreat because he was losing?"

"No." Phil said. "He's a good fighter. If he had kept going he would have won. But he chose to retreat."

"It's unusual." Tommy added.

"Well, let's not dwell on it too much." Tubbo said cheerfully. "Dream retreating only guaranteed us a win. Let's celebrate it while we can."

"Depressing much?" Grian joked, and Tubbo followed him up the bubble elevator, leaving Phil and Tommy behind.

Tommy exchanged a dark glance with Phil. Something feels wrong. He thought. I just wish I knew what it was.

~~~

Wilbur fought for consciousness. He could see a prickle of light in front of him, a distant star in the everlasting grayness around him. Wilbur tried to reach out his hand, to grasp the light, but the gray pressed on him at all sides, not letting him move. He struggled against the gray, trying to move forwards, but it pushed him back, flowing around him like water and creating a barrier.

Panting, Wilbur stopped. He was tired and his back hurt. Biting the inside of his cheeks, Wilbur eased himself into a sit in his unconscious mind. He glanced around at the gray surrounding him. The speckle of light teased him from his left, but Wilbur knew that he would never reach it. If he even tried to move, the grayness would block him.

Wilbur turned his back on the light. He would not look at something that will tempt him to no end, but something that he knew he would never reach. Instead, he walked away from the light that meant consciousness. The gray seemed to allow Wilbur to leave, creating a clear path leading away from the light.

Well obviously it doesn't want me to regain consciousness. Wilbur thought wryly. It wants me trapped in this stupid grayness.

He kept walking. The gray seemed to guide him, nudging him towards one way or another. Wilbur obeyed, following the invisible wall beside him that the grayness must have created. It's not like I'll be able to go back. He thought sarcastically. It definitely doesn't want me to go back. Wilbur reached behind him and was immediately blocked by a strong gust of... gray.

Wilbur kept walking. The gray seemed to create walls around him, moving him down a long hallway. He noticed that the gray was the exact shade of Grian and Phil's wings, and that gave him some calmness. That is, until he became so goddamn tired of the color gray. I hate it. Wilbur thought with strong hatred. I hate the color gray. When I become conscious I'm gonna blow everything up.

Wilbur knew he was unconscious. He knew that he was stuck in his own mind, wandering down an endless tunnel. He continued to walk, but this time imagining a Wilbur in his own mind, walking down the same hallway. He laughed to himself as he imagined the Wilbur imagining another Wilbur imagining another Wilbur...

The chain went on, and eventually the original Wilbur stopped keeping track of all the Wilburs inside his head. He just let his imagination run free.

Then it happened.

The Wilbur at the very end of the chain saw it first, reacted to it first. He leapt forwards, heading straight for the pin-point of light that was a mere arm's-length in front of him. The next Wilbur reacted, and then the next.

And Wilbur blinked his thoughts away as he lunged towards the light. The gray swarm around him, trying to push him away with all the force it could muster, but Wilbur's momentum carried true. His fingers closed around the glowing speck, and his world flashed white.

It was L'Manberg. His ears were ringing with the recent explosion. The explosion that he has created. His unfinished symphony, now forever unfinished. He was knocked back from the explosion, which is why his back hurts. It feels like needles had dug into his back.

It felt like needles in his back.

Needles...

No.

This wasn't L'Manberg.

It was never L'Manberg.

Everything was dark. Wilbur felt the pain in his back, the pain that he now recognized as the needles in the trap. I escaped. He realized with elated joy, despite his injuries. I escaped the gray. I escaped my unconsciousness. I'm conscious now, aren't I?

Wilbur pried open his eyelids just a bit, cringing at the bright lights that seemed so wrong after being in what felt like eternal grayness.

I need to get out of here. Wilbur thought. Before the poison takes over again.

Scanning his surroundings, Wilbur tried to think of an escape route, but found none. He could not even move without being pierced by needles. Wilbur could only hope that someone would find him.

It seemed like hours and hours. Wilbur tried to keep his eyes open, to not fall into unconsciousness, but he just wanted to sleep. How easy would it be to just let himself fall, weightless, and not worry about a thing? No, Wilbur, you can't. He reminded himself over and over again. Stay awake, Wilbur, stay awake.

He was about to fall asleep for what felt like the hundredth time when he heard it. Footsteps. Yes! Wilbur tried to open his mouth, to cry out and alert whoever was coming that he was here, but he could not make a noise. His mouth was open, but his throat was so dry that he could not speak at all.

The footsteps paused as a muffled voice came, and then whoever was heading towards him turned and started to walk the other way. No no no! Wilbur thought desperately. Please come back! You're my only hope! Wilbur coughed silently and finally squeezed out a feeble croak.

The footsteps stopped, and Wilbur felt hope for the first time in forever. Please please please. He begged in his mind, letting out another croak.

"Tommy, where are you?" The muffled voice said, coming closer.

"I swore I heard something." Tommy, who the footsteps belonged to, said.

"Really?" The first voice was clearer to Wilbur now. He recognized it as Grian. "No one's been down there for ages."

"But I heard something." Tommy insisted, and Wilbur was, for once, grateful for the boy's stubbornness. "I'm gonna go check, Big G."

"Alright, I'll come with you." Grian said, and Wilbur felt ecstatic joy as the footsteps got closer and closer.

Tommy's face appeared over the hole, and Wilbur watched through squinted eyes as the boy's mouth widened into an O. Wilbur smiled weakly. "Ello." He rasped.

"Grian!" Tommy called, and then Grian's head appeared beside Tommy's.

The builder's eyes widened as well. "Tommy, get Phil." Grian ordered, and the young boy raced off without complaint. "Don't worry, Wilbur. We'll get you out." Grian said, dangling his legs over the hole.

"Careful." Wilbur croaked.

"Don't worry." Grian reassured him. His gray wings opened up behind him. Wilbur's first thought was I hate that color, but when he blinked, he caught the feathers shining iridescent. He blinked again, and the rainbow colors were gone.

Grian lowered himself slowly into the hole, his wings working to keep him afloat.

"No-poison." Wilbur managed to squeeze out through his dry throat. "Poison." He whispered again.

"I got it." Grian said, as two pairs of footsteps sounded.

Wilbur tilted his head and spotted Phil, his green eyes wide with panic as he bended over the hole. "Wil! Wil!" Phil gasped, and Wilbur gave his father a weak smile in reassurance.

"Phil, be careful." Grian warned. "Wilbur says there's poison."

Philza's eyes hardened into emeralds. "We're gonna get you out of there, Wil. Hang in there." And then he lowered himself into the hole to be parallel with Grian.

Working together, the two avians managed to each get their hand under Wilbur's body, wearing gloves to not scrape themselves on the poisonous needles. On Grian's count, they rose up, taking Wilbur into the air and then gently lowering him onto the cold floor. His back hurt.

"Who did this, Wil?!" Phil demanded when he had been taken up to the control room, where the medical beds were.

"Phil, let him rest." Grian said. "You can ask him questions later."

Phil shot Grian a glare, but Wilbur smiled thankfully and fell into a deep slumber.

WC: 1900

A/N: haha minecraft man is gonna be mad

see, it was interesting

so, uhhhhhhh

https://novelhd.com/truyen/260704016/

what. the. f. is. this.

for those of you who can't get onto the link, it's this (like, this one that you're reading) story, on this web called novelhd. the account that the story is under is not my account, i want to make that clear. i didn't post my story on this website, the only website i have posted doubled powers on is wattpad, (i might do ao3 soon though, if i do get to it-) and if you find any cross-posted, pls inform me

so idk what this is, i haven't used this novelhd website at all, if someone knows what is going on, send me a private message and tell me. i believe that this is a copyright strike, but i may be wrong because i've never used the web. please, please tell me if you know what's going on, or i might wrongfully copyright strike this thing.

(they also put every a/n i've put on the story, so i'm curious to see what they'll do this time)

(it's like someone is pretending to be me, maybe, but im not sure. again, pls contact me if you know what's happening.)

https://chng.it/vcY6rsySTz

(it's a change.org petition, pls sign, i WANT TO FLIPPING MURDER SOMEONE)

(future echo is still mad about it, are they still publishing i literally lost the link when i switched laptops)