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Empty darkness. That is all Ranboo saw when he first opened his eyes and quickly sat up. The hybrid was unsure of where he was. The last thing he had remembered was the blown off wall of the obsidian cell and Technoblades helpful hand. As he tried to dig deeper and remember more, some small details uncovered themselves and the horrifying truth of his situation.
He was dead and soon, so would his beloved son. His utter disarray and sorrow came in the form of painful sobbing and soon to be scalded flesh. As every tear fell, he could feel his own blood follow. He had been killed by Sam, Technoblade had tried to save him. Sam had Micheal and was going to kill Micheal, it would be all his fault. It was all his fault. Agony tore through him as he attempted to cover his face, only for his hands to be burnt by his own tears.
Eventually, the tears ran dry and Ranboo calmed himself down. He stood up and explored the dark room, feeling at the walls with his less damaged hand. They felt like steel and cobble, or maybe crying obsidian. His hand ran across a cold metal handle. He hesitantly, slowly opened the door, only to find a larger room with the walls and ceiling covered in small, white, illuminating, screens. The room was decorated in furniture that resembled the ones in the living room of his house in l’manburg. On the far side of the wall, a torch aflame with blue fire hung. He carefully walked to the odd torch and grabbed it. There were runes and eyes carved into the wood. The flame was not hot, instead it was bone chillingly cold. Freezing to the touch, but emitted a strong glow regardless of temperature.
The enderman hybrid walked back out to the large room and held up the torch. The walls were made of a crying obsidian and steel, ice laced corners. He hadn’t realized how cold the room was until now. Nor had he realized the signs on one of the walls. It was identical to his first panic room. He continued exploring the room and found another door on the opposite wall. It was locked. This door had looked something akin to the front door of his home in the Arctic Commune. He went back into the other room and picked and poked at one of the screens when it started to play. Startled, he fell into a screen next to him. That one also started to play. Shortly, all the other screens followed and were all now playing different videos, each with different sounds. They were all of his friends from the eyes of a stranger, all at different points of time. When the stranger spoke to who seems to be president Tubbo, he quickly figured out HE was the stranger. This was all from his perspective. Situations and events he couldn’t remember, all playing on small screens on loop. In one, he contemplated killing Micheal. In another, he was burying the disc. In multiple, he was talking with Dream.
He fell into one of the chairs and blankly watched a screen. In this one, he was helping Dream blow up the community house, then he saw everything it caused to happen.
He sat in the frost covered chair and watched each screen play horrors of his own making, silent and regretful tears burning through the flesh on his face.