Chapter Text
Home.
That’s a term Tommy considered unfamiliar. He’s never had a real home—never having staying in one empire too long.
Yet, the Antarctic Empire was different. He found people there. He found himself there.
He also, strangely, found a home. A home where he felt safe.
For now, at least.
…
“Tommy!” Someone yelped shaking him. “Wake up!”
He blinks, trying to push whoever was on him off. “Wha—what’s going on…?”
“Come on, Quackity’s leaving!” Wilbur says, gesturing to the door.
“Good for him,” he mutters, letting his face fall into his maroon pillow. It’s actually really silky and kind of distracts him from the fact that his back fucking aches.
“No—we're going to say goodbye.” He tells him, trying to pull him out of the bed.
“Bye, Quackity,” he groans, pulling the covers over him. “Now leave me alone.”
The hand that was pulling the covers drops, and then there’s silence.
“Okay,” Wilbur replies. “I guess you don’t want to go into town after.”
He instantly bolts up, rubbing his forehead. “No, I do. Let’s go!”
He tries to stand up before Wilbur pushes him back on the bed, laughing. “You’re not going anywhere looking like that.”
“Wha—what the fuck is wrong with how I look?”
“You look like a homeless person.”
His mouth parts, and he smacks him away then stands up. “Shut the hell up.”
“Right, well, get ready and meet me at the gates, yeah?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He mumbles, pulling clothes from his drawer. He didn’t really have any clothes, so Technoblade had some personally made for him.
The door shuts with a slam, and Tommy glances behind him to confirm Wilbur left. He stretches, hoping that’ll relieve some of his back pain.
It does not.
He rubs his eyes, pulling his shirt off and slipping a different one on. Right before he puts his shirt over his back, he swear he catches a scar on his back in the corner of his eye. He brushes it off, half not caring since its probably from the battle, and half too lazy to take off the shirt and look at it again.
Tommy changes his pants next, slipping on ones he deems okay to wear. Then he picks up his coat that Cormac so gracisouly gave back to him, and tugs it over him. The fluff is warm on his neck, but is actually pretty itchy, so he flips his hood the other way and continues out the door.
The hallway is pretty full, the guards now in their new usual position—lined up on the wall. A shiver goes through him at the fact that they weren’t there before, that they hadn’t even needed to be there, but he ignores it and walks towards the stairwell.
There aren’t that many servants out, mainly because their break hasn’t ended yet, but some people were probably as bored as him staying in bed doing nothing. He turns the corner, stopping at the last stair when he recognizes one of the servants.
“Hannah!” He yells, running over to her. She blinks, turning around and barely smiling before he embraces her in a hug. After a second he pulls away, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry, I should’ve—”
Hannah interrupts by pulling him in for a second hug and laughing. “It’s okay, Tommy—It’s good to see you!”
They pull away, and he tries to scratch his arm before he realizes that he has a coat on and can’t reach his skin.
“Yeah, uh—you too, man—or, uh, woman…? Wait—no, that’s offensive as shit, should I just call you Hannah…?”
She giggles again, covering her mouth as Tommy just smiles awkardly. “Yeah, Hannah’s fine. How’ve you been?”
“Pretty okay. I mean, I got a nasty fuckin’ scar from the arrow that piereced me, but it’s actually kinda cool, so…”
“Oh, yeah—I heard about that! Everyone thinks you’re awesome.”
He blinks, taken aback. “… Really?”
“Yeah. Nobody really hates you anymore.”
“Wow. Real harsh, Hannah.”
“Hah, sorry—I never hated you, though.”
“Thank you,” he grins. “I mean, who could hate me anyways? I’m cool as shit.”
“That’s what I was telling everyone.”
Tommy’s about to reply, before someone interjects.
“Telling everyone what?” Harry asks, coming around the corner right next to them. “Oh, Tommy. I was hoping you died.”
“Oh, fuck off—” he smacks him in the arm. “Dickhead.”
He snickers, leaning against the wall. “No, but, I heard you actually died. So are you dead right now?”
“I’m standing right in fucking front of you, Harry. The hell do you think?”
“I mean, you could be a ghost.”
He narrows his eyes, rolling them. “I’m not a ghost.”
“I’m skeptical.”
“I agree with Harry.”
“Wha—Hannah!” he scolds, scowling. “I thought we were friends, and now you take this asshole’s side.”
“You’re right,” she points out, smiling. “Sorry, Harry.”
“It’s alright. Ghosts can be pretty convincing.”
“Okay, first all of, I’m not a fucking ghost, and second of all—” he pauses. “How the fuck would you know? You haven’t met a ghost.”
“I’m standing in front of one right now thoug—”
He lunges forward, sending them both toppling backwards on the carpet. Tommy lets his weight rest on Harry, who fake chokes and starts yelling. What he doesn’t realize is Technoblade is standing right in front of them, watching all this unfold.
He clears his throat, sending Tommy yelping and off of Harry and onto the floor. “Techno—hey, uh, what are you—” he scratches his neck, scrambling up. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was headin’ downstairs to say goodbye to Quackity, but I bumped into a certain someone on the way there.”
“Oh, really?” he grins, putting his hands on his hips. “Who’d you bump into?”
“Not sure. Looked sort of like a raccoon, though—”
“Hey fuck you, I’m not a raccoon!”
At that instance, Harry bolts up and also starts stuttering on his words. “Prince—uh, hi, uhm—Prince Technoblade.”
He bows messily, making Tommy snicker and Technoblade blink.
“Uh, you don’t have to… you don't gotta bow.”
“Right,” he replies, immediately shifting up. “Sorry, your majesty.”
“Cough—suck up—cough,” he actually starts coughing as Harry hits him, murming an insult.
Technoblade raises an eyebrow, brushing past the boys. “In other matters, we have to go say goodbye now.”
“Then let’s fucking go!” Tommy rushes past him, waving to Hannah as he heads down the last set of stairs. He’s going pretty fast, even going as far as to jump down two.
Then he trips on the carpet, going flying towards the floor till someone catches him by the shirt, pulling him up with force. He chuckles nervously as Technoblade stands behind him, not looking amused.
“Do you need me to carry you?” He asks, totally fucking mocking him, which Tommy does not take.
“No—bitch, let go of me and walk faster.” He tries to move, but Technoblade’s grip is insanely strong. He feels like a statue.
“Walk faster and fall like you did?” His grip tightens. “No thank you.”
“Hey! I didn’t fall, because if I did, I would be on the floor right now.”
“It appears to me that you are.”
“What the hell does that—”
All of a sudden, Technoblade lets go off the back of his shirt, sending him truly falling onto the rough carpet. He groans as he spreads his limbs, excepting his defeat.
“Gave up that easily?”
“You motherfucker,” he mutters, still not getting up. “You are the disgrace of a prince.”
“I’m not sure that’s correct grammer—”
“Shut the hell up and help me up,” He demands, reaching a hand for Technoblade to take it. He doesn’t.
“Hmm,” he pretends to think. “I don’t know, I’m kinda busy today. Not sure if helpin’ you can fit on my schedule.”
“I swear to prime, help me up—”
“Guys, what are we—” Wilbur blinks as he sees him on the ground, and Tommy just lets his head fall. “…Tommy? What are you doing?”
He mutters something inaudible, not picking his head up.
“I didn’t get any of that, did you, Wilbur?” Technoblade asks, seeming moments away from laughing at him.
“All I could hear was elp-e-dot or something like that.”
He groans so loudly the entire castle must’ve heard it, picking up his head. “I said, help me you fuckin’ idiot.”
“Woah!” He exclaims, backing away. “We don’t talk like that to princes, so I’m going to need you to apologize.”
“Apologize?” He repeats, mouth parting. “The hell you mean—”
“Or it’s the dungeon,” Technoblade adds, cocking his head. Tommy just lets his own head fall again, not even sure what to do with these fuckers.
Someone clears their throat, forcing him to pick up his head and see who else dares to join this little unfunny joke they’ve got going.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Quackity asks, eyeing Tommy who remains on the ground.
“Quackity—yes—help me!”
He raises an eyebrow. “Help you… with what, exactly?”
“Get off this motherfucking floor!”
“Hmm… what’s in it for me?”
“For you—” he repeats, narrowing his eyes in irrtation. “If you don’t help me up, I’ll tell—”
“Woah, my man!” He immediately runs over to him, swinging a arm over his shoulder and hoisting him up. “Of course I’ll help you.”
Wilbur raises an eyebrow in suspicsion, inching closer. “Tell us what…?”
He opens his mouth—not to actually tell them, but to spew insults, before Quackity slams a hand over his mouth. “Nothing. He’s telling you nothing, and I actually have to go now, so goodbye.”
He grins as Quackity doesn’t take his arm off, leading him outside into the blinding sun. It’s not that chilly, considering that the snow is beginning to melt and winter is close to an end. Wilbur and Technoblade follow, both giving equally scary shifty eyes towards the two, but he chooses to ignore him.
They’ll definetly pester him about it later, though.
Quackity takes his arm off, leaning against his carriage. “Well, it’s my time, now.”
“You say that like you’re about to die.”
“Maybe I am, Wilbur,” he shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, don’t you worry, Tommy.” He leans in closer, bringing his voice to a hush. “We’ll play poker when I get back.”
“Nobody’s playin’ poker with Tommy.”
He clears his throat, glaring over at the prince. “Translation: I’m Technoblade and I don’t know what fun is.”
“I know what fun is. And, fun, doesn’t include scammin’ a child in a game made for imbeciles.”
“Imbecile?” Quackity repeats, letting out a gasped breath of air. “I am no imbecile!”
“And I’m not a child.”
“Agree to disagree,” he responds, gesturing towards the door of the carriage. “Now get in.”
“What, you want me gone that bad?”
“Yes, actually.”
Wilbur clears his throat, interupting him. “What he means is he’ll miss you greatly.”
“I knew it—”
“—I will not—”
Tommy clears his throat this time, several times, actually, and continuing towards Quackity and trapping him in a hug. “I will miss you, Big Q.”
“‘Big Q?’” He repeats, pulling away. “That’s new.”
“What, you don’t like it?”
“No—I love it. Fits me, since I’m so great and big.”
“Probably cause you eat too fucking much,” Wilbur coughs out, smirking.
“Shut the fuck up, Wilbur,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes but going in for a hug with him anyways. “Won’t miss your ass.”
“Neither will I,” he responds.
Both of them are lying, and they both know it.
Quackity pulls away, grinning smugly as he walks over to Technoblade, who inches away.
He holds up his hand. “What, no hug for me?”
“You better get in that carriage before I do somethin’ I won’t regret.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, Technoblade—”
“—I wasn't worrying—”
“—I’ll back soon.”
He huffs, gesturing to the carriage. “Let’s hope not.”
Quackity walks past them, putting one foot in the cart. He looks back with an expression—half bittersweet, and half smug, and smiles.
“I will see you in a few weeks.”
“See ya’, Big Q!” Tommy exclaims, doing a soldier salute.
Wilbur waves smallely while Technoblade just shifts his jaw as a goodbye. Then Quackity puts his other foot in, closing the door.
After a second, it drives off into the road, where many other carriages are leaving as well.
Tommy frowns slightly at the damaged town. People are still rebuilding, still mourning. But it’s better. Lighter.
Wilbur slips a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing it tightly and smiling. “Let’s go now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he whispers, not intending for it come out as one.
“Hold on—go where?”
“The market,” Wilbur replies. “You should come.”
“Uh, that’s gonna be a no.”
“Wha—why?” Tommy asks, turning towards him and frowing bigger.
He chuckles. “Because last time it didn’t go so well.”
“Oh—please. That was all Wilbur’s fault.”
“Excuse me?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Like hell it was. That was all your fault.”
Tommy pokes him in the chest. “No it fucking wasn’t.”
“Yes it was!” He says, poking him back.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes—”
“Alright, alright,” Technoblade interrupts, stepping between them and pushing both away. “It’s both your faults. Now we should go before we loose light.”
“Yes! Big T’s on my side!” He yells, whipping his head around in victory.
“Wha—”
“No he isn’t.” Wilbur interjects, rolling his eyes.
“Yes he is,” Tommy replies, cheerfully walking down the steps with Wilbur following.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Technoblade sighs, going after them. “This is goin’ to be a long day.”
…
“Is this really necessary...?” Tubbo asks, watching Ranboo fiddle with his blindfold.
“Yes,” Ponk answers, fixing his stance.
Tubbo frowns, blowing air out of his mouth. “But why? I can just lead him everywhere.”
“You won’t always be with him, and he needs to learn how to be independent,” Ponk affirms. “Hence the cane.”
“Looks more like a stick to me.” He remarks, tilting his head.
“Cane.”
“Stick.”
Ponk sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter. You can start when you’re ready, Ranboo.”
“Right,” he replies, gripping the cane so tightly his knuckles turn white.
Tubbo frowns slightly at that, fidgeting with his fingers. Ranboo walks forward, feeling around him and freezing when he hits a wall.
He murmurs something, but Tubbo’s too far away to hear it correctly. Then he continues, successfully getting around the corner.
Tubbo races forward to keep eyes on him, concerned that he’ll fall or something. Which would be funny, by the way.
He’s still walking forward, getting some weird stares from a handful of servants and one or two guards.
He hits a table, stumbling backwards and itching his neck in probably embarrassment. Tubbo grimaces, about to go help him before Ponk stops him.
“Let him,” he says, and Tubbo only scoffs before inching back to his spot next to Ponk.
Ranboo regains his composure, feeling around with the cane and avoiding the table this time. He's actually making progress, but almost hits someone by accident.
Tubbo stifles a laugh as he continues forward. Unfortunately, none of them notice how close Ranboo is getting to the stairs, and none of them notice the table that’s about to send him flying back if he doesn't move.
And, unfortunately, Tubbo doesn’t stop it in time, and Ranboo leaves his sight down the stairs.
He flinches, rushing over to the stairs. “Ranboo!”
Ranboo is sprawled across the floor, groaning as he tries to get up and fails. Tubbo sighs, heading down the stairs, Ponk following.
“Ranboo!” Ponk exclaims. “Are you alright?”
“Define alright,” he coughs out, letting his head fall into the carpet. “Just take me now, god.”
Tubbo laughs. “Get up, you idiot.”
He finds his hand, hoisting him up on his side. “You alright, boob boy?”
“Wonderful,” his voice is strained, and he waves Tubbo off him. “Sorry. I failed, right?”
Ponk picks up the fallen cane, smiling. “These things take time, Ranboo. You did your best.”
“I plummeted down the stairs.”
“With grace, might I add,” Tubbo says, smirking despite him not being able to see.
“Oh, shut up. You weren’t even there to see it.”
“How do you know? You can’t even see.”
He pauses. “… That’s a good point.”
Ponk lets out an breathy laugh, shaking his head. “We can continue this tomorrow, yeah? For now, get some rest.”
“Jeez, how much rest do I need?”
“A lot,” the doctor replies, clasping Ranboo’s shoulder. “I’ll see you and your shadow tomorrow.”
His mouth parts. “Hey! I’m not his shadow—he’s mine.”
Ponk smiles, heading down the stairs
“Right,” Ranboo says, cocking his head. “Uh… can you lead me back now?”
“How mean would it be If I made you use the cane?”
“Well, considering Ponk took it, I don’t think that's possible.”
“How do you know he took it?”
“It’s called using my brain, Tubbo. You probably haven’t used yours yet—”
“Shut up and let's go,” he barks out, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs.
Tubbo smiles nonetheless, and, somehow, his heart didn’t feel so heavy.
…
Tommy and his brothers continue through the town, getting multiple stares but, again, no fangirls.
Probably because of Technoblade, really. This time he wasn't hiding, clearly showing his appearance.
They past the graveyards, and Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. He already has his emotional moment. He really doesn’t want to break down crying, so he looks away.
They haven’t stopped for anything yet, but that all stops when he sees her.
Tommy halts in place, nearly knocking over Wilbur in the process.
“Wha—”
He rushes over to the familiar stall, not waiting to see what Wilbur has to say to him. He almost bumps into someone, quickly maneuvering around them.
He goes hard into the wall, but barely registers it as he approaches the stall.
“Hey—it’s, uh you—” he blinks at the maroon-haired woman. “The one who gave me the brown… thing?”
She blinks back, raising her eyebrows like she’s surveying him. Then her eyes widen slightly. “The brownie kid—oh, yeah, I remember you.”
His mouth curls into a smile. “That was one good fucking brownie, man.”
She looks slightly taken aback by his language, because they first met, he was pretty silent. “Well, thank you!”
Someone clasps his shoulder. “Tommy, you can’t run off—”
Wilbur freezes, mouth parting as his face immediately turns red as shit. Tommy raises an eyebrow, blinking at him.
“Uh—I—uh—who’s your—who’s your friend?” He stutters, rubbing his neck.
Tommy barely contains a snort, then grimaces when he realizes he doesn't actually know her name.
He turns to her, smiling awkwardly. “What's your name…?”
“Sally,” she responds. “Yours?”
“—Tommy—”
“—Wilbur—”
She then flinches slightly as if she just registered the prince is there, immediately bowing. “Oh—your majesty, I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, please—don’t bow.”
She hesitantly looks up, slowly picking her body up and stiffening.
“She was asking for my name, dickhead.”
“Whatever,” he mutters, smacking him on the side of his head. “Sally, right?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Just call me Wilbur.”
“Oohhh—”
All of a sudden, Technoblade appears. “Why does it feel like I'm babysittin’ actual children?”
He shrugs, making a face at Wilbur, who just glares.
As for Sally, she looks even more terrified at the appearance of Technoblade, which really isn’t all that surprising.
Wilbur nudges him. “You’re scaring her.” He whispers, as if she’s not standing right fucking there.
“How?” He whispers back, not being subtle at all. These two fucking idiots.
“She can hear you, y’know.”
Sally doesn’t respond, looking frozen in place.
“Great,” Wilbur says. “You’ve killed her.”
“Wha—” Technoblade’s face scrunches up. “I barely even said ten words.”
Tommy clears his throat, stepping in front of them as hopes to cover them. It fails, as they’re much taller.
“I’m so sorry, Sally, I’ll get these two away right now,” he whips around, pushing them out. Suprisingly, they don’t revolt the slightest.
Wilbur blinks. “What are you doing.”
He stands up straight, wiping his hands on his pants like he just touched something gross. “You guys shit at talking to women, so let I, the great TommyInnit, handle this.”
“Where did you even get the ‘Innit’ from—”
“Doesn’t matter. Stay here.” He interrupts, going back to Sally’s stand.
She appears to be conscious again, but very red. Almost tomato-like.
“Hi. Sorry about that—they're really fucking bad at pretending they aren’t princes.”
“Right,” she replies, rubbing at her forehead.
“Anyway, I have a question.”
“Ask away, I guess.”
“How would you,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “Like to be a personal baker for the palace?”
She stumbles back, clearly not expecting that. “Wha—you can do that..?”
He blinks. “Uh… yeah! Yeah—course’ I can.”
“I— I don't know what to say…”
“Say yes,” he whispers, winking.
Sally looks hesitant, but eventually nods. “I mean… That would be an honor.”
“Great!” He exclaims. “You can start today. Just go to the like… east side? Of the palace, there’s a servant entrance there and tell a woman white hair there, ‘The great TommyInnit has summoned me to these quarters.’”
She blinks, tilting her head.
He laughs at her expression. “Nah, just explain to her that Prince Wilbur hired you to be a baker along with her.”
“But Prince Wilbur didn’t hire me?”
“Oh, don’t worry, he will soon.”
“Uhh… okay, then. Thank you, Tommy.”
He clicks his teeth. “No problem. I should get going now.”
She smiles, waving as he rushes into the crowd to find Wilbur and Technoblade. He navigates through the crowd, not seeing either of them yet.
Tommy checks the walls, assuming Technoblade’ll probably be leaning against the one of them.
He finds no one. The edge of his mouth tugs into a frown, and he glances behind him. Still, no one in sight. You’d think pink hair would be easily findable, but no—he can’t fucking find anyone.
He's starting to get frustrated before he hears a noise in an alleyway right next to him. It’s kind of Technoblade’s style, so maybe he’ll find him there?
It doesn’t hurt to check.
Or so he thought.
Tommy continues into the alleyway—which apparently has a roof, because it’s pretty dark. It’s also pretty small, and when it’s clear nobody’s in here, he turns around to leave.
Unfortunately, he can’t, because there’s someone standing in front of the exit. With heavy armor on, and somehow… invisible?
Tommy gulps, blinking. “Uh… hi? Wow, you, uh—you got no fucking head, man.” He scans the… person? “Or body, apparently. You alright?”
The guy doesn’t respond, only indication that he’s even alive being his loud breathing. He’s actually breathing pretty damn loud, and Tommy has half the mind to tell him to shut the fuck up.
He doesn’t, surveying the area around him. No other exits, and he can’t even climb the walls. He’s trapped with this random dude who’s apparently fucking mute.
Tommy takes a breath, stepping towards the guy. “You're kinda blocking my way, so if I could—”
He tries to squeeze past him, but the guy immediately shifts in front of him, looking extremely fucking menacing depsite the fact he can’t see his expression.
Tommy immediately steps back, breath hitching. “Okay. You’re just gonna move in front of me. Asshole.”
Apparently, they didn’t really like they insult, because they pulled out a fucking dagger. What was with people and pulling out daggers on him?
“Uh…” he swallows. “Nice knife..?”
The figure flips the dagger over, slowly inching closer. He backs up even more, eventually hitting the wall behind him.
Still, the guy doesn’t stop.
“Okay, wait—you don’t wanna do this. I’ll have to immediately destroy you if you do.”
The figure lets out a surprised laugh, and Tommy knows it’s surprised because it cuts off like they hadn’t meant to do that.
Fortunately, he sees a flash of pink hair behind the figure, slowly approaching. But, apparently, he must’ve gave it away, because the guy whips around right as Technoblade’s about to pounce.
Their weapons collide, but Technoblade’s is stronger—and he sends the figure stumbling back. Tommy basically melts into the fucking wall, hoping the guy doesn’t decide to turn around and go for him.
He doesn’t, and instead starts to speak. “Technoblade.”
The prince’s jaw tightens, and his weapon doesn't falter.
Tommy, however, is furious now. “Really? You talk to him and not me? Fucking dickwad—”
The figure glances behind him, immediately making Technoblade snap his fingers. “Hey. Don’t look at him. What the hell do you want?”
He glances back at the pinkette, slightly relaxed. “Keep your family close, Technoblade.”
Before either of them can blink, the figure; who he’s recognized as a man, drops his armor and is fucking gone.
Tommy tenses, and Technoblade just rushes forward, slicing the air to rid of anything hiding in the shadows.
The invisible figure stays invisible, and as Technoblade continues to search, he looks out into the street and sees a man tipping his hat at him.
The next second he’s gone—vanished into the crowd. He resists the urge not to kill himself right there and then.
“Hey, Tommy,” he snaps, bringing him back to life. “You alright? He hurt you?”
“Uh…” his eyes wander back to the street, searching for the man again. “I don’t…”
“Tommy,” he repeats. “Focus.”
He pauses, taking a breath. “No. I’m fine.”
“Good.”
After a moment, Wilbur comes into the alleyway, looking concerned at the sight. “Guys—oh, Tommy, you’re safe.”
He embraces him in a tight hug, one that Tommy melts into then misses after it’s gone.
“What happened?” He looks towards Technoblade, who has no answer and shrugs, then back at Tommy. “Tommy?”
“I—I, uh… he cornered me.”
“What'd he say.” He demands, jaw twitching. It’s not a question.
“That’s the weird fucking part,” he whispers. “Nothing to me.”
He raises his eyebrow. “What’s that mean?”
“He said somethin’ to me.”
“… What.”
“‘Keep your family close,’” he mimicks, leaning down and picking something up from the ground. “Left this.”
It’s a piece of paper, and Tommy squints his eyes and starts to read it.
— Void
Wilbur sighs, pinching his nose. “From Void. Who’s Void?”
“Whoever it is, they're tryin' to send a message.”
They’re all silent for a moment, before Technoblade sheathes his sword. “We go home. Together.”
The prince looks towards him. “Tommy, I want you glued to my side—understand?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, not having enough strength to spew a witty insult. He allows Wilbur to grab his hand, pulling him out of the alleyway.
Tommy’s chest starts to hollow, and the hope he’s been feeling, disappears just like that man did.
And, for some reason, it feels like something bad is going to happen.