Chapter Text
Granted, it was not the best of circumstances when they met.
Dream was standing in front of a literal ticking nuclear bomb (don't worry about it, it's an occupational hazard) two men with automatic rifles shooting at him when a little door to the old German steam vents opened in a puff of steam and a funny-looking man fell out of the door.
He was wearing a very colorful hoodie, a pair of tinted colored goggles, and he was muttering to himself. See, no one should be in the steam tunnels, but this man, he didn't even bat an eye or feel like he just did something out of the norm. He just fell with a grunt before standing back up and dusting himself off.
"Who are you?" Dream asked, his back pressed against a concrete pillar, hiding from a literal bullet shower.
"I'm Karl. I'm the librarian," The man answered chipperly. "Ignore me, you're clearly busy."
"What-" Dream muttered. "What are you doing? This was a very dangerous ambush mission, there are weapons. Guns and a literal bomb."
"I see that," Karl said, his eyes glancing at the contraption between Dream's feet. "You better diffuse that, I don't want anything to destroy the Opal of Samara."
"The what?" Dream asked.
He didn't even realize the last marble casket-looking thing off to the side covered in a dust-covered white sheet, at least not until the Librarian pulled the cover off. It was fully sculpted knobs and keys made of bronze."
"I need to diffuse this before the magical safe set off the trap and the millions of dead people in a hundred-mile radius get cursed into a flesh-eating zombie," Karl stated immediately. "If you could please diffuse the literal ticking time bomb, that would be amazing. It's truly pissing me off," Karl yelled.
Dream peeked over the pillar and sent off shots to the two men that were assaulting them before running to pick up the bomb and set it down not that far away from the Librarian.
"Oh my god, get that away from me," Karl muttered.
"I don't know how to disarm this, how do I disarm this?" Dream asked.
"The stations of the cross, of course," Karl exclaimed.
"For the nuclear bomb?" Dream sounded confused. All the while bullets were still bouncing off the walls.
"No, for the zombie curse," Karl replied, whilst his hand was still moving to work on the safe. "The bomb is easier. You can go ahead and pop that side casing open."
"Right," Dream said as he finished.
"Do you see the blue wire?" Karl asked.
"Yep," Dream confirmed as his fingers went to hold the wire.
"Don't touch the blue wire," Karl instructed, and Dream pulled back instantly.
"God! Could you be any clearer?" Dream demanded.
"Take out the silver cube," Karl told him. "There are 8 stations of the cross."
"Fourteen," Dream corrected him. Karl turned and raised an eyebrow. "My grandma likes to go to Sunday church," Dream shrugged.
"Well there's only 8 in the Bible," Karl said. "John is the fourth gospel, executed. Book 19, verse 17. Latin numerals 4, 1, 9, 1, 6, 1, 7," Karl turned a bunch of knobs and a little compartment of the safe popped out. "We're halfway there," He sang.
Dream was starting to curse out the rest of his team that was stuck somewhere, leaving him to deal with both the bomb and the two people still shooting at him, and now this weird guy that keeps talking about the Bible. Still, he had to try his best.
"Simon and the women of Jerusalem, which gospel is that?" Karl asked.
"Luke," Dream replied as he aimed for one of the other guy's shoulders. "Gospel of Luke," Nad if he's honest with you, he doesn't know how he could still remember these things.
"Impressive," Karl hummed. "Now, final disarm, 2, 2, 5, 6, 6."
"Yours or mine?" Dream asked.
"Improbably," Karl shrugged. "Both."
Dream didn't know what exactly improbably meant, but it wasn't like he knew any better so for now, even when his life was at stake, he'd rather trust the weird man. So the two men input both their numbers, both contraptions turning off at the same time.
Dream barely had time to sigh out of relief when one of the men he's been fighting showed up behind him and pointed his gun right at Dream's face.
"Give me the bomb," The man said.
"Thirty-one," Karl said.
"What?" Dream mumbled.
"There are 30 rounds in an AK-47 magazine, and one in the chamber," Karl explained. "I counted that he's already shot 31 times, though I didn't hear him reload."
At the sound of this, Dream immediately ran forward and knocked the guy out with one punch across the face. When Dream turned around, Karl was holding a giant shiny sphere. Which Dream guessed was in fact the opal of Samarra.
"How did you do that? How did you know all of that?" Dream asked.
"Told you," Karl smirked. "I'm the librarian."
"Colonel Walker!" The sound of his team yelling his name interrupted him from all the questions that he still had for the Librarian. He looked away for one second to watch his team running in, and when he looked back, the Librarian was gone.
Dream knows exactly what that sounds like. It sounds like he was bat shit crazy. And that's exactly what his superiors thought when he filed in his official report about what happened during their mission in Germany.
Maybe that's why he was put on a month-long leave.
Now, for a man that spent most of his working life traveling the world and putting himself in dangerous situations beyond belief (you can look back at the nuclear bomb), a month on leave is practically a death sentence. He didn't know it was possible to die from boredom, but it was.
Maybe that's also why when he found the white envelope inviting him to the Metropolitan Public Library for a job offer, something that he'd normally never take, he decided to go.
The library? That's ridiculous, he knows.
"I was told to find a-" Dream hesitated. "A Skeppy?"
"Did Karl order food or something?" A man sitting behind the closest desk answered. "He's not supposed to."
"No," Dream replied. "I got this white envelope and I-"
"Oh," Skeppy stood up almost immediately, reaching over the table to grab the envelope out of Dream's hand. "You got a white envelope. Oh, Karl is going to riot, he hasn't had a guardian in 10 years."
"What- What's a guardian?" Dream asked, but Skeppy only giggled giddily as he walked around his desk.
"Come with me, come with me," Skeppy said excitedly, guiding Dream to stand in front of a bookshelf that swung open to reveal a hidden doorway.
Dream barely had enough time to process the architecture of the building or even the existence of the secret passage when he was shoved into an elevator that took him and Skeppy down. The numbers were rolling and rolling, and it didn't seem to stop.
"How far down are we going?" Dream asked.
"Oh no, that's not real," Skeppy brushed it off. "It's metaphorically going down. We're actually just traveling to another pocket dimension where we keep all the books and all the magical artifacts."
"Pocket dimension? Magic?" Dream laughed. "Magic's not rea-"
Dream was stunned silent when the door opened to reveal bookshelves and bookshelves that traveled for miles. It was, quite simply, impossible that this exists under the belly of New York City.
"Welcome to the Library," Skeppy said.
"I uh-" Dream was speechless.
The first thing that he could see was the arc of the covenant, right in front of him, followed by a bunch of other old-looking weapons and vases. And books. Miles worth of books.
"The Library collects knowledge and magical artifacts that are too dangerous to be left out in the world," Skeppy explained. "And the person who collects them from the outside world-"
Dream's attention turned to the sound of clanging noises, like blades clashing against each other and a man's voice yelling and whooping as he ran into Dream's view.
"Meet Karl Jacobs, the Librarian," Skeppy said.
It was the same man, in his uniquely him color block hoodie, fighting what seems to be a flying sword. Though he immediately stopped when he met eyes with Dream. Karl furrowed his eyebrows, nudging his head towards the sword that immediately flew across the room and pressed itself gently across Dream's neck, holding him hostage.
"No, no!" Skeppy scolded. "He's here to help."
Dream was going to move his hand and push away the sword from his neck when Karl yelled.
"Don't, don't," Karl yelled. "Wounds from Excalibur never heals," Karl's eyes were scanning Dream carefully. "Cal, go on, I'll see you later," And after the sword flew away, Karl's attention went back to Dream. "What are you doing here?"
"Is that Excalibur? Excalibur the sword is real, and it's magic, and it flies, and you call it Cal," Dream mumbled slowly, the white envelope in his hand gripped a little tighter. "Were you just playing with Excalibur?"
"We're friends. Best friends, actually-" The man in front of him answered loosely, pulling off his goggles and we glared across Dream's shoulder to the man still standing closer to the elevator. "Skeppy, why would you send him an envelope?"
"You know I don't send invitations, the Library does," Skeppy said pointedly. "The Library sends the invitations. I believe he was chosen to be a Guardian. Your Guardian, to be exact Karl."
"I don't need a Guardian," Karl laughed. "Do you understand? I don't need a Guardian," The shorter man stared up to Dream before spinning around on his heels. "I don't need a Guardian!" He yelled out to the ceilings.
"He needs a Guardian," Skeppy muttered. Dream turned to look at Skeppy who was continuously nodding. "He almost got killed fighting Ninjas just last month, then it was the vampires-"
"I don't need him!" Karl yelled even louder, not so subtly nudging his head towards Dream, though Dream had a feeling he wasn't replying to Skeppy.
Dream may have only met this man a total number of two very weird and abnormal interactions, but that doesn't mean he wasn't mildly offended at what's currently happening.
"I'm sorry," Karl turned to Dream with a smile. "I think there must've been a mistake. Have a good day, and don't come back."
Okay, Dream was wildly offended.
"The magic Library, the one with the Arc of Covenant sitting right there-" Dream pointed at the giant golden artifact that he honestly thought only existed in the first Indiana Jones Movie. "-told me that I was needed- that I'm here to protect you, but you don't think you need me."
"Please," Karl scoffed. "Nessie can do a better job protecting me, I've been doing this 10 years."
"Did you just say Nessie?" Dream muttered.
"I don't need you," Karl reiterated.
"And you don't tell me what to do-" Dream replied. "-man-whose-best-friend-is-a-flying-sword."
Karl has already started to walk away and all Dream could do was run after him.
"I need answers," Dream called out. "What's a guardian? Since when is magic real? What the hell happened?"
"I'm not answering your questions, nimrod, we're done here," Karl said. "Go home."
"The magic Library sent me a white envelope. Go home?" Dream exclaimed. "If you don't wanna deal with me, just get me another Librarian."
"There is no other Librarian, there's only ever one at a time. You get replaced when you die," Karl explained. "And this Librarian-" He pointed at himself. "-doesn't need a guardian."
"Oh!" Another voice chimed in as the two of them walked into a room with tables, books, and a large staircase off to the side. "Who do we have here?"
"Colonel Walker," Dream introduced himself. "NATO counter-terrorism."
"Ugh, the government," Karl muttered.
"Colonel," The man hummed from over the table. "You'd make a very good Guardian. Quick reflexes, strong posture-"
"Sorry, who are you?" Dream asked.
"Oh, I'm Bad," The man smiled kindly.
"You're bad? At what?" Dream muttered.
"No, no, my nickname is Bad," He answered. "You'll get used to it."
"Are you- are you a Librarian?" Dream tested the waters.
"There's only every one Librarian!" Karl yelled from across the rooms.
"Used to be," Bad winked at Dream. "Now I'm just the Library's caretaker."
"I thought you only get replaced when you die," Dream said hesitantly.
"He's special," Karl chimed in.
"I'm special," Bad nodded in agreement.
"Okay so you used to be a Librarian," Dream reiterated. "What's a Guardian?"
"Well," Bad began.
"Don't tell him," Karl yelled out. "I don't need a Guardian."
"The Guardian's job is to protect the Librarian," Bad explained, ignoring Karl's warning. "The brawns to the Librarian's brains, the common sense to all their impulsive actions. They're the Librarian's partner and bodyguard."
"You need a-" Dream was confused. "To work in a library?"
"The Library," Bad corrected. "When you work in a world with magic and monsters, evil cults and curses, well-"
"Librarians tend to die," Karl said. "A lot. Sometimes more than once."
"Karl's survived for a whole 10 years, most of it without a Guardian, the longest out of everyone," Bad said. "Well, except for me."
"And I can do it another 10 more, without a Guardian, thank you very much," Karl said.
"This is a lot," Dream mumbled slowly. "I'm really trying to process here, and you gotta believe me, I'm trying my best, but- Magic Library, evil cults, Guardians, Librarians, I already have a job. Why did you send me an invitation?"
"I didn't, the Library did," Bad corrected him yet again. "Like the Librarian, there's only ever one Guardian at a time. And the Library thinks it should be you."
"Do you mind?" Karl yelled loudly. "If you already have a job, then leave. I have a murder to solve."
"Murder?" Dream questioned. "Murder, I can do. Murder I've dealt with a lot."
Dream crossed the room and stood next to Karl right in front of a glass board that's filled with taped-up pictures, strings, post-it notes, and a whole lot of scribbling written in dry erase markers. Like ones you would see from an unhinged person.
"Dr. Jonas Sheer was murdered upstairs," Dream concluded after a quick scan through the information on the board. "And you have nothing?"
"I have everything," Karl said. "I have all the theories, all the possible motives and methods, I just don't- know how to narrow them down," Karl grumbled. "He was trying to show me this painting when he died."
Karl pointed at a picture of a painting that he taped up on the board, in the center of everything else.
"What painting is that?" Dream asked.
"I don't know," Karl replied.
"How did Dr. Sheer know where to find you?" Dream continued to pester.
"I don't know!" Karl yelled.
"You're sure he was looking for you?" Dream muttered skeptically. "Maybe he got an envelope and he was just here to steal your job."
"Envelope," Karl mumbled. "No. Yes. No," He gasped before running up the stairs.
Dream gave a confused look towards Bad who simply nudged his head, telling Dream to go after Karl, and up the stairs, he went.
"He knew who I was," Karl said. "He knew where I worked, which didn't make sense since the whole magic Library thing is a secret. But maybe- Maybe," He hummed and he flipped over a giant book in his head. "Of course! A doctor with 5 PhDs, he's more than qualified."
"For your job?" Dream asked.
"No, not mine, the person before me," Karl explained. "There was an interview process you see, hundred were called and we all signed in and- see," Karl pointed out a messy signature in the middle of the ledger. "He was here for an interview, but I got the job. "
"And now he's dead," Dream shook his head, though his eyes kept scanning through the list. "Wait, I know him, Dr. Abraham Thomas."
"Speaks four languages, both a medical doctor and physics," Karl nodded commendably.
"He did a whole talk about bioweapons in a NATO conference, died in a car accident last month," Dream told him.
Both Dream and Karl shared a look before Dream quickly took out his phone while Karl continued to read down the names in the ledger.
"Far Shariad, Tehran University?" Karl called out.
"Plane crash," Dream held out his phone and showed Karl the news article.
"Someone's killing off Librarians," Karl concluded.
"Not all of them, but the top dozen," Dream contained furiously typing on his phone. "Dead, dead, missing- except for these three."
"They didn't sign in," Karl said. "They didn't come for the inter- Quackity?" He yelled immediately. "You're joking, you sent an invitation to Quackity?"
Dream was starting to feel like this whole talking-to-the-literal-building was more than just a quirky habit.
"At least he didn't come in for an interview," Karl shook his head.
"Maybe that's why they got dropped to the bottom of the kill list, they're probably still alive," Dream told him.
"Yeah, first contact's address is right here in New York," Karl came to the same conclusion. "That's where I'm going, thank you for your help."
"You going alone?" Dream furrowed his eyebrows. "I did half of the work."
"I work alone, colonel," Karl said, walking away without another word. "Goodbye."
"Well, you'll just need to learn how to work with a partner," Dream insisted. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Karl grumbled angrily, though unfortunately, there wasn't much else he could do unless he fully planned on taking a man who had military training in hand-to-hand combat. Swordfight, yeah, maybe he had a chance, but other than that? He would be screwed.
The first contact was George Davidson, which honestly lulled them into a sense of security. George worked as a janitor in a hospital, and other than some quirky behavior, went with them when asked and was pretty much problem-free.
It was a pretty awkward conversation though.
"George, we need you to come with us," Dream said.
"Why?" George replied.
"Someone's trying to kill you," Karl said.
George stood there, the broom in his hand as he continued to eye the two strangers in front of him. He looked up and down, carefully analyzing their facial expressions and everything.
"No, not us," Karl blurted out once he realized what was happening.
"Why would anyone try and kill me?" George asked.
"You're a Librarian," Dream told him.
"Well, no-" Karl interrupted. "No, no- I'm the Librarian, he's just a candidate."
"Will you just come with us, please?" Dream requested.
Despite the little bumpy conversation, George was still the easiest one to recruit. The other two candidates were on the opposite ends of the world, so even geographically, it's not an easy trip. Maybe that's why Karl and Dream decided to split up to cover both grounds faster, but those extraction missions were-
Interesting.
"If you watch my back, I'll cut you in on 10%," Quackity said after Karl had just taken down a security guy carrying a dagger.
"I'm not going to help you steal a jeweled dagger," Karl said. "From a museum."
"Who said I'm stealing?" Quackity smiled cheekily. "Maybe I placed it here for safekeeping this morning."
"Yeah, well if the dagger was actually yours, maybe you'd know that trying to burn through glass in a room of infrared sensors might not be the best move," Karl said pointedly, just seconds before the alarms started blaring.
Quackity leaned over the edge of the second floor to see about half a dozen guards running up the stairs case.
"My escape route's cut off," Quackity said.
"Mine's not," Karl offered.
"Alright, what do you want?" Quackity offered.
"Come to New York, I wanna figure out who's trying to kill you," Karl said. "Even though I know why they'd do it," He grumbled even lower.
And so the second of the trio is on their way to New York.
When Dream went and arrived in a random bar in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, it was already in the middle of a fight. People wearing a full black outfit complete with a mask were attacking the third candidate, a man named Wilder, and Dream could only jump into the fight.
"Who the fuck are these guys?" He asked.
"Ninjas?" Dream offered.
The two worked surprisingly well for people who have never met before, quickly dodging each blade and breaking bar stools on their backs before running out of the bar as fast as humanly possible, getting into Wilder's car, and driving away.
"What the hell was that?"
"Well, Mr. Wilder, some people are out to get you," Dream said.
"Please, it's Sapnap," He corrected. "And why?"
"I'm guessing it's because of how smart you are," Dream told him.
"I think you got the wrong guy," Sapnap chuckled.
"Do I?" Dream asked. "IQ of 190, accepted to the Sorbonne and Cambridge for an arts degree, both of which you turned down, but still, you are able to write dozens of literature on Europe and Native American art history, under like seven different pseudonyms," Dream squinted his eyes. "Do I have the wrong guy?"
After that, Sapnap didn't put up much of a fight when Dream told him they had to fly to New York.
The day they met up at the front of the Metropolitan public library, now a group of five was an interesting one.
"Museum security," Karl did a little progress report once the five of them stepped into the elevator that was bringing them down. "We had to run away from museum security because this nimrod was stealing."
"Ninjas," Dream replied.
"In Oklahoma?" Karl hummed in disbelief. "Really?"
"Yeah, we had to fight Ninjas," Dream repeated, equally exhausted and exasperated.
"Where are we?" Sapnap piped.
"Mr. Wilder, we are in the Library," Karl answered.
"He prefers-" Dream piped up. "He prefers Sapnap."
"Sapnap," Karl repeated slowly. "We're in the Library. Or the elevator, down to the Library."
"What Library?" Quackity questioned.
"The Library, the one that holds the secrets of magic and the universe," Karl explained, though from the tone that he was using, sounded like it was a little bit more sarcastic than answering a genuine question.
Once the elevator door opened, the three new people invited to the Library looked like what everyone should when they walk into a magical Library. Their lips apart, jaw dropped, eyes wide in wonder as their breaths were stolen from their lungs.
"You're kidding," George mumbled.
"No, we're not," Karl replied.
"Welcome to the Library," Dream said.
George, Quackity, and Sapnap took very few careful steps forward, their heads turning, eyes scanning every corner and crevice, trying to absorb as much as possible. Dream wondered if he looked just as amazed as they were no more than 3 days ago, though admittedly, he was more occupied with the Librarian who was less than hospitable when greeting him.
"But, we don't have a lot of time," Karl's voice cut through the air and shocked them all back into reality. "So I'm giving you 30 seconds for questions, shoot now."
"Is that the Spear of Destiny?" Sapnap asked.
"Yep," Karl nodded.
"Ark of the covenant?" Sapnap continued.
"Yes," Karl said again.
"What about Bigfoot and Dracula?" George asked.
"Yes and no," Karl replied. "Yes to bigfoot, no to Dracula."
"So vampires aren't real?" Quackity questioned.
"Vampires are real, Dracula is not because I killed him," Karl said before turning to Dream. "I don't see the point in this."
"Ten years ago you all got an envelope that invited you to come work for the Library, none of you showed up which, luckily enough is probably the reason you're all still alive," Dream said.
"If magic is real, why don't we see it?" George asked.
"Industrial revolution," Karl replied. "Pockets of magic that runs through the whole world through pathways called the leylines. Over time, the magic starts to fade when apartments and skyscrapers get built on top of them," He explained shortly. "My job is to make sure that whatever remains in the outside world doesn't fall in the hands of wrong people."
"Like the people who tried to kill me," Quackity said. "Us. I meant us."
"That one chick," Sapnap said. "The leader or whatever, that tried to kill me, she had a snake tattoo."
"Of course," Karl groaned loudly. "The Serpent Brotherhood, an ancient cult that's hell-bent on trying to bring magic back into the world."
"That's Karl's murder-board," Dream pointed out the board that looked like a conspiracy theorist had nothing better to do during a long weekend. "Something Dr. Sheer found made the Brotherhood kill him and start going down the list of Librarian candidates."
"Does it have to do with that painting?" Sapnap pointed out the painting in the middle of it all. "The Crown of King Arthur?"
"What?" Karl exclaimed, running towards the board, bringing his face closer to inspect the painting. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Sapnap shrugged. "Pretty sure."
"The Crown of King Arthur was forged by Merlin to give Arthur control over magic across the land that he needed to build Camelot," Karl said.
"So the Brotherhood would need the crown to bring the magic back into the world now so that they can control it," Dream said.
"Why can't we bring magic back?" George piped up. "Magic is magic, it seems cool."
"Magic is cool," Karl agreed. "But only until everyone has access to pure untapped magic and people who don't know what they're doing takes a bigger bite than they can chew, and wars start, and people die, and nobody knows how to fix it."
"Oh," George mumbled.
"I think-" Karl hummed. "I think I need to see the original painting," He pulled the paper off from the board and examined it before looking at Sapnap.
"I know what it's called, I don't know where it is," Sapnap shrugged. "It's a minor piece, unknown artist, who knows which museum-"
"Munich," Quackity chimed in. "Munich museum of history and art. I cased it for a heist last month and I memorized their entire inventory."
"There are 3 flights to Munich from New York today," George said. "One at 6:00, one at 7:15, and one at 10:45, which is the most probable one considering the traffic and time spent going through immigration."
"That's why they were killing Librarians," Dream muttered.
"They're not killing Librarians, I'm the Librarian. The only one Librarian-" Karl corrected him.
"They're trying to wipe out the competition," Dream continued, completely ignoring Karl's protests. "They're getting rid of all the people who are most likely to find the Crown first."
"I say we beat them to it," Sapnap proposed.
"Agree," Quackity nodded. "No one tried to kill Alex Quackity and gets away with it."
"I'd love to go back to Europe," George hummed.
"No, no, no," Karl said. "No. No."
Dream only rolled his eyes and gave the other three men in the room a look of exasperation.
"First of all, there is no we," Karl began. "Second, let's not refer to ourselves in third person, and third, it's not a vacation," He looked at Sapnap, Quackity, and then George respectively. "I work alone, so this is where we part ways, thank you for your insight, but goodbye."
"Oh no you don't," Dream said, shaking his head. "I'm a Guardian, right? If you don't want me, then I'll be their Guardian, and I'm taking them to Munich with me," He threatened. "So, we either work together, or you can sit back and watch as we beat you to the Crown ourselves."
Karl stared up at Dream, his eyes squinted, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, all around pissed off at the taller green-eyes gentleman standing right in front of him. But Dream? Dream only gave Karl his cheekiest smile. He even threw in a wink.
"I didn't sign up for this," Karl stated.
"Well, the Library signed you up," Dream told him. "And now I'm your partner. You either go peacefully to I drag you kicking and screaming."
"I hate you," Karl declared.
Dream only let out a little chuckle before turning to the other three people in the room that has been watching their little tense interaction with utmost intent.
"Let's go to Munich," Dream said, nudging his head towards the door slightly, gesturing for them to follow his lead.
Karl was a little behind the crowd, jumping around and throwing a little bit of a tantrum, watching as Dream walked away.
"This is your fault!" Karl yelled to the Library once again before speedwalking to catch up to the group.
"What?" Bad responded, clearly missing the fact that Karl was talking to the Library. "Karl, what did I do?"