Long Live L'Manberg

Chapter 50: Like Moth to a Flame

Tommy never realized how frigid the weather was becoming until he stepped outside without a jacket. They were approaching the heart of autumn, a bitter breeze replacing the fragments of warmth in the air. The tip of his nose became a bright shade of red, small clouds of fog escaping his lips as he took deep breaths in an attempt to ease his frayed nerves. Tommy had an intuitive feeling he knew exactly where they were headed. He kept his lips sealed, occasionally veering his attention towards Quackity. Their new recruit was visibly uncomfortable, his emotions being no mystery to the untrained eye. Quackity's entire body retreated into his torso as he folded his arms, rubbing them to create warmth. The trio trudged through the fresh mud, the scent of after-rain filling their lungs.

After a short walk, the group arrived at the side of a small cliff, a massive boulder blocking the entrance to some kind of cave. Without uttering a word, Wilbur shoved his shoulder into the rock, rolling it aside to reveal a long, dark corridor. Quackity and Tommy exchanged glances before stepping inside, Wilbur leading the way through the stone-coated hallway. A pit formed in Tommy's stomach as he remembered Eret's trap, his negative history of traitors and winding hallways all rushing back at that very moment. Flashbacks plagued Tommy's mind as he began to relive that awful day, but what waited for him at the end of the hallway somehow managed to make Eret's disturbing efforts look like child's play.

As if history was bound to repeat itself, Tommy once again found himself standing in a claustrophobic nightmare of a room lined with stone, a bright red button staring back at him. Crates of dynamite were haphazardly scattered in each corner, the red sticks spilling out all across the floor. Pieces of weathered paper were plastered to the wall with hammer and nail, obsessive rambling etched repeatedly on each methodically arranged paper. He took a step back in disbelief as he studied the display in front of him. This was no button room. This was a visible, tangible diorama of just how ill his brother truly was. "Holy shit," Tommy whispered under his breath.

"What the fuck is this?!" Quackity didn't hesitate to announce his frustration as he swiveled his neck around to get a good look at the papers that were plastered to the wall.

"In case this doesn't answer your question, I had planned to detonate Manberg two nights ago," Wilbur spoke nonchalantly as if the topic they were discussing was as common as the weather. "Seven hundred and four sticks of dynamite that have been laced all over town will explode at the click of this button." He pointed his finger over toward the red button that lay dead center in the room. Connecting the dots in front of him, Tommy realized Wilbur must have repaired the button after he had discovered it destroyed- only he wasn't quite sure how.

"I brought you both here to bear witness," declared Wilbur as he turned his body to face the two men, radiating with pride. Tommy furrowed his brow, "Bear witness to what..?" Surely he wasn't going to do it now. Was it just to catch him off guard? Wilbur lowered his head, removing his thin, circular glasses and cleaning them with the fabric of his jacket.

"What better time than the present to eradicate this abhorrent nation?"

Tommy's eyes widened, a rising sense of panic clouding his mind. All he could focus on was that audacious look in his brother's eyes. This was really it, and he was a fool to be so severely underprepared. His heart leaped in his throat as he watched his brother like a hawk, preparing to rip him away from that stupid button at a moment's notice.

"Wilbur, this won't fix a single problem on our hands and you know it!" Quackity shouted, rage seizing his voice when he realized the fate of the people rested in the hands of a deranged psychopath. "You're being radical!" He didn't think it was possible, but Wilbur exceeded the qualifications of being worse than Schlatt to the absolute maximum.

"Quackity, you don't get it," Wilbur spat, a disdainful expression swept across his face. He hated when people spoke about topics they weren't knowledgeable about, and Quackity had quite the history of doing so. "These people are enslaved by tyranny! I'm going to save everyone!" Wilbur proclaimed with jubilation.