She knew manipulation too well.
It was carved into her bones, stitched into her mind, shaped her into the perfect weapon.
She ran from that life at sixteen, thinking she could erase herself, blend into obscurity.
Then she found the Dream SMP—a place that seemed safe. A place where the people weren’t monsters like the world had painted them to be. They were kind. They were warm.
For the first time, she let herself believe in stability.
That belief shattered the moment she used her abilities.
Power leaked from her fingertips, turning a fight into something mythic, terrifying, inhuman. The second it happened, the looks in their eyes shifted—no longer just curiosity, no longer just kindness.
It was interest.
Now she was running again—not just from the Eggpire, who saw her power as something to corrupt, something to feed the Egg's influence—but from her so-called friends.
She makes the mistake of thinking she’s safe with the Dream Team.
Dream was patient, steady, always careful with his words.
"You don’t need to rush into anything," he told her one night. "You have time to figure this out."
She should have questioned that.
"You’ll understand soon enough," he said, like it wasn’t even a question.
Like it was inevitable.
Sapnap wasn’t just loud and friendly anymore—he was always there.
Whenever she moved through the base, Sapnap was nearby. Whenever she sat alone, Sapnap found a reason to talk.
"You overthink too much," he told her, tossing a sword into her hands. "Stop watching your back like someone's gonna jump you. No one's gonna hurt you."
She wanted to believe him.
Then she noticed how, when she put the sword down, it was gone the next time she looked for it.
Not missing.
Just taken away.
George’s patience never wavered.
"You get too caught up in your own thoughts," he murmured one evening, sitting across from her. "You don’t have to constantly try to figure people out."
She hesitated. "I’ve had to."
"Not here," George said simply.
She wanted to trust that.
Wanted to believe it.
But the words lingered, settling in her mind too easily.
Punz was effortless, never pressing, never forcing.
"Relax," he chuckled when she stiffened. "You act like we're scheming behind your back."
She exhaled slowly. "Aren’t you?"
Punz grinned, hands in his pockets. "If we were, would I tell you?"
It should have been unnerving.
But it wasn’t.
And that scared her more than anything.
Purpled let her have space, let her talk only when she wanted to.
"You always tense up when people are too nice," he mused lazily, flipping through a book. "Not everyone’s got some grand plan, y’know?"
She hesitated. "And if they did?"
Purpled shrugged. "Then you wouldn’t see it coming."
She hated that that made sense.
She didn’t feel safe, not entirely.
But she wanted to.
She didn’t fully trust them.
But she needed to.
Because what was the alternative?
"Why is this locked?"
George barely glanced up. "Security reasons."
Her pulse hammered.
"Then why am I not allowed to leave?"
Sapnap sighed. "You’re really gonna start this again?"
She froze.
"We’re protecting you," he corrected, stepping forward.
Too close.
Her stomach dropped.
She wanted to trust them.
She needed to trust them.
But she wasn’t safe here.
And now, she knew that for sure.