(In his defense, he hasn’t slept.)

He flinches away at first when Quackity pulls the sword out, but then he stands his ground, grins a little. It’s not a nice grin, all teeth. 

He doesn't want to hurt him. He definitely doesn't want to kill him. He wants to not starve to death on raw potatoes because otherwise he can't leave. 

But Quackity did, in fact, win a Hunger Games, and it wasn't just by being pretty for the cameras. He swings, almost blindly; the sword connects, right in the torso. 

The sword’s enchanted with knockback; Dream is pushed back with an oof.

The barrier comes up. The lava begins to fall. After a few minutes, the moving platform will come over to collect Quackity. 

And he'll walk with it, across the lava. The sword goes back in his inventory during the wait. He's not shaking. 

Sam meets him at the other side. “This was a mistake.”

"Yes. Yes it was." He hands over the sword and shears and axe; he's working on the armor.

Oh, that’s nice! He was worried that he’d have to give it up as lost, which is annoying, whatever Quackity may think he doesn’t actually have infinite netherite. 

“I’m glad we’re in agreement, then.” Quackity can be led the rest of the way out through the prison! “I will agree not to do anything about you entering the prison under false pretenses if you agree not to tell the other Quackity what happened or where Dream is.”

In his defense, you didn't at any point ask. He's not actually enough of an idiot to say that out loud. "Deal." 

At the prison entrance: “Go through the portal and then let me know when you’re on the other side.” He sounds exactly the same as the first time. He is so good at going through the script. 

He follows instructions. He's very good at following instructions. 

“Okay, you can go through.”

And when he steps through again, he’s back in the entrance building that connects to the outside. 

Well. 

That went about as well as it reasonably could have. 

Fuck, he needs to sleep. Okay. Back to Kinoko and then he is going to pass out for a bit. 

Kinoko: exists. Has a bed for him. (Sapnap’s wandering around. Karl’s watching cartoons. George is asleep.)

Q falls into the same bed he slept in before without speaking to anyone. It's still made. His jacket is still folded, neatly, at its foot. 

He has the exact same fucking nightmares he always does, featuring not lava and crying obsidian but fancy Capitol hotel rooms and an arena built for him to die in. When he wakes up in the almost-evening, he doesn't know whether he's surprised by that or not. He doesn't know whether he wants to be or not. 

He ends up stealing food from Sapnap, sorry Sapnap. And then he sits down and actually, properly thinks through what it means that there's only thirty-two people. 

One: You actually just can't have Panem's setup if there are only thirty-two people. Even if countries were very small you could have something larger that encompassed all the countries, and that could be what does and doesn't allow you to say things, but-- not with only thirty-two total people. The amount of effort and infrastructure that goes into Panem's censorship just can't be done without a population of hundreds, and there'd be no point without at least thousands. 

Two: Nobody seems to act like they're worried about who might be listening to them, not even Wilbur. At first he'd chalked that up to Wilbur being kind of a reckless idiot but in retrospect, that really doesn't make any sense. So whatever is or isn't up with Wilbur and his willingness to say things out loud, it isn't knowledge of microphones and reasonable risk assessment. 

Three: Dream is being tortured. And yet you can walk into the prison, sit down with the person inside, admit you'd been kind-of-sort-of lying to the guards, befriend the prisoner, and be let out without a scratch, just a request not to tell one specific other person. 

So-- he's honestly probably fine? He's honestly probably fine. It's a little bit terrifying and a little bit exhilarating, being honestly probably fine. 

He naps, a little bit, mostly so as to not totally ruin his sleep schedule. And then, when it's morningish enough again that anyone but him is likely to be awake and around, he gets up properly and goes to look for Wilbur. 

Wilbur: can be found hanging out around Paradise. He’s up early. (As is Tommy, who’s setting up some sort of cobblestone path.)

"Hi," he says, cheerful, normal. "How are you guys?" 

"Good. Just trying to decide what to make the path out of."

"I'm--I have literally already started making it out of cobblestone."

"We are not making the path out of cobblestone."

"Whaaaaat? Whyyyyyyy?!" His voice is a high-pitched whine.

"Anyway, other-Quackity, how about you? How are you on this fine morning?"

"I am alright! I moved into Kinoko and had conversations about double-entry bookkeeping long into the night." Both of those facts are true and it's none of anyone's business whether they have anything to do with one another. 

"That's good! Kinoko is--"

"Sapnap's new place."

"Sapnap, huh? Well, good for him."