xv

𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝘀

---〘⇯〙---

there was a moment of loathsome conflict within pax, a war between the softness of a bed of moss and the venom of the nest of scorpions that lay beneath.

they didn't know what they needed. they had always thought of the others, of ranboo, of tubbo, of puffy, of michael. but pax was still empty. their love had lit a fire in their veins but their bones still ached with a constant chill.

they longed for the warmth of the crater, the only place where they felt whole.

they wandered through snowchester. they tended to do that a lot; pax would wander the small camp, finding small hideaways and nooks, and mentally marking them down. what for, they didn't know.

a loud sound startles pax. they crawl from their spot, a little lip on the outside if a second floor on one of the buildings. they can spot two people building something in the ground. a smooth metal cylinder. pax can almost swear they've seen it before, but complete and rusted, falling apart with age and decay. pax shifts, holding onto the ledge and dangling their feet off and dropping onto the ground below. they approach quietly.

"what are you guys doing?" tubbo's starts, whirling around, anger flashing across his face.

"don't scare me like that!" pax flinches at his tone. tubbo lets out a sigh. "we're making a silo," he snapped.

"oh." pax glances down into the depths of the silo and for a split second they wonder would happen if they pushed tubbo. they shook away the thought. "can i help?"

jack glanced up at pax. "could you help us move the missiles? just in case there anyone radiation leak, ya'know?" pax nodded at him, pulling their hood forward again from when it had begun to slip.


〘⇯〙


it'd taken a whole day to move the missiles and the sun had set earlier that day, leaving the trio to work in the frigid dark in silence. 

when pax went to sleep that night, they dreamed they were in a silo, staring up through the broken roof at the grey sky above and watching the slow drip of a black mass that glimmered in the cloudy lighting. it felt as if their head were stuffed with cotton balls, their joints giving out as they collapsed under their own weight.

they dreamt they died under a cloudy sky.

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