A jagged gash opens in the air, silent and sinuous, first slashing a rough curve through reality and then spreading open farther as though grasped and pulled by some vast alien force. It twists through space, shuddering and pulsing like a creature in pain, wider and wider until—at last—a person tumbles through and it snaps shut all at once with a thunderous crack.
“Killing him once is still pretty impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever killed Dream? If I did I forgot. I forget things a lot, though.”
“I think it’s because I’m a ghost. Wilbur had a better memory than I do. I don’t mind, though! I don’t want to remember upsetting things.”
"Aww, I like remembering upsetting things. It gives me more to make art about. Fair enough, though. Want me to sing you the spring song a few more times so you can learn it?"
He starts joining in for parts of it, and soon he’s singing along. He has a nice voice! If they sing more he starts making up harmonies; if they don’t, he asks “What’s spring?”
Do they not have seasons here? "It's a time when there's good weather and it's nice to be outside." She hopes they have weather.
Possibly the lack of seasons will have to be confirmed with someone who has a better memory. Then again, does he only forget upsetting things? How upsetting is winter? How upsetting is the passage of days into months into years into the slow decay that consumes all things? That's a good idea for a song, actually, except she has no idea if the slow decay that consumes all things even operates in this orthogonal universe.
...she sings the song again, because it's fun to sing with him.
She likes his harmonies.
Meanwhile, despite the inherent difficulty of fleeing into the wilderness while singing, she has totally been doing that. Presumably one day she will run out of forest. If there's a sizeable body of water out there she thinks she'd like to cross it; otherwise, she'll see what comes her way.
If she continues running away from civilization in the same direction she has been, she will in fact encounter a large body of water! Once the body of water is crossed: tundra.
She did not come dressed for tundra but c'est la vie. She'll stomp and shiver her way through the snow like a proper adventuress, assuming the local snow even admits of stomping and shivering.
It’s definitely notably cooler but it doesn’t particularly feel like she’ll, say, get hypothermia out here.
There’s smoke up ahead. If she climbs a tree to see where it’s coming from, the answer is that it’s coming from the chimney of a small house.
Human habitation! Terrible.
...she wants to at least get a good enough look to understand this world's architecture a little better, though.
Oh no it's so charming!! She has to take notes. She has to consult her recipe book to find out if she can make a notebook in which to take notes. It's so cute and small and square... everything in this world is square but this thing is charmingly square.
She may end up spending an inadvisable length of time making sketches of this house from nearby hilltops and jotting down her thoughts on its many charming details.
(After a while of this, Technoblade leaves the house. He doesn’t notice her.)
So that's who lives here. Could be a lot worse! Imagine if it was Dream!
That hypothetical is enough to get her up and walking again, trying to cross the tundra. If this place obeys any normal laws of geography, she'll have to get across a whole polar region of the planet before things get warm again, but since this place is made of cubes, there almost certainly aren't poles. It can't be a sphere, geometrically speaking, unless it's a mind-bogglingly enormous one.
Not a bad prediction! There is in fact an obscene amount of cold area to get through: tundra, mountains, tundra, mountains.
Night’s going to fall before she reaches somewhere that isn’t snowy.
Then she will make her very own charmingly square little house, and put a bed in it, and sleep.
Dream, on the other hand, has decided to skip a night of sleep.
Kite wakes up to being hit with an axe.