"You Were Always Theirs"

It started off great.

You joined them with uncertainty, unsure whether you'd earn your place or be cast aside like so many before. But the moment you stepped into their camp, they welcomed you. Laughter around fires, sparring in training rings, long midnight talks under cracked stars—it all felt like home. You bonded with Dream, Sapnap, George, BadBoyHalo, and Punz. They became your closest allies. Your shoulders to lean on. You couldn't see why the world called them monsters, but you'll see soon enough—

---

The Day of L’manburg’s Surrender

The smoke had barely cleared when you cheered, triumphant and proud. "We did it! You guys—you were brilliant out there!"

They didn’t smile.

Dream merely nodded, hands behind his back. Sapnap’s arms hung loose at his sides, tension crackling in every muscle. BadBoyHalo—usually the sunniest voice in any room—gave you an uneasy glance and quickly looked away. George mumbled something you couldn’t catch. Punz didn’t speak at all.

You blinked at them. “Aren’t you happy?”

But no one answered.

That night, as you drifted off to sleep in a quiet corner of the camp, something in the air felt wrong. Heavy. Intentional.

But you were too tired to question it.

—

Later That Night

Inside the command tent, their voices murmured behind canvas and shadow.

Dream: “Now is the time. She only knows us. No one would come looking. Not anymore.”

Sapnap: “She’s already ours. We just haven’t told her yet.”

BadBoyHalo: “I just—what if she wakes up terrified? What if this ruins everything?”

Punz: “Fear is temporary. Loyalty is permanent. She’ll learn.”

Dream: “She trusts us. She believes in us. That’s enough. All she needs is what we give her.”

Sapnap: “She’ll be confused. Maybe even angry. But she'll realize she's ours soon enough."

BadBoyHalo: “I hate this. It feels wrong…”

George: “Does it? Or does it feel right?”

Punz: “She’s not a prisoner. She’s a treasure. And treasures are meant to be protected.”

Dream: “Exactly. Tomorrow, the world will forget her. But we won’t.”

Silence followed.

Then the sound of footsteps.

Dream reached into his satchel and pulled out a cloth. A glass vial. No one stopped him.

—

A Few Hours Later

You woke slowly. Disoriented. Heavy.

At first, you thought you were dreaming—the softness beneath you unfamiliar, almost luxurious. A thick blanket. A velvet pillow. Soft glow from a distant lamp.

But when you tried to raise your arm…

It didn’t move.

Something tugged it back—gentle but firm.

Your legs, too. Bound.

A gag pressed against your lips, rough and muffling. You blinked hard, fighting through the haze.

It wasn’t your tent.

It wasn’t camp.

It wasn’t freedom.

Then your gaze shifted—and settled on five figures seated calmly around the room.

Dream.

Sapnap.

George.

BadBoyHalo.

Punz.

They watched in silence.

Not speaking.

Not smiling.

Just staring—with expressions far too calm… and eyes far too hungry.

And slowly, it sunk in.

The war had ended.

But for you?

It had only just begun.