I Keep Thinking About The Boatem Crew Falling Through The Void. I Keep Thinking About How The Boatem

I keep thinking about the Boatem crew falling through the void. I keep thinking about how the Boatem Hole was really just a lot of strategically applied tnt to bedrock. I keep thinking about how L'Manhole is just the Boatem Hole missing a step or two. I keep thinking about how nice it would be to have Mumbo punt Dream into the sun.

Techno sighs, halfheartedly rings his bell. The heat from the lava wafts ever near, and though it's a welcome Nether-y change from living in the tundra, his company is not nearly such a welcome change.

"Ring that bell one more time..." Dream threatens. His orange prison jumpsuit, ratty hair, and cracked mask make for a not-so-threatening picture.

Just to be a spiteful dick, which Techno feels is one of his best qualities, he hits the bell again and leaps into the most obnoxious prayer he can come up with. "O blood god, ruler and vanquisher, slaughterer and conqueror, grant unto me your divine power. Thy enemies shall fall upon my blade, and enemies mine shall be thine, and fall upon thy might."

"You sound like a sycophant," Dream says disgustedly.

Techno pretends he doesn't hear Dream, and becomes even more melodramatic in a sincere attempt to entice Dream into violence. "I entreat thee, o god of carnage and death, rain thy fury upon this my foe: Dream of origins unknown is a wicked fiend not only in flesh but in power, and I, your humble servant--"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Rolling his eyes, Techno bangs his bell again, then freezes when he hears something unusual.

A voice without form says, "Right, one moment mate, gotta take this--"

Techno blinks. "You... heard that, right?"

Dream scowls. "You're shitting me. Hear what?"

"Don't gaslight me, Dream," Techno says uneasily, "that's not very girlboss of you."

Before either prisoner can continue arguing, a fine red mist materializes in the air between them. Inky blackness like the eyes of dead men coalesces around it; in one moment there is mist and decay, the next there is a man with well-kept black hair and a crash test dummy suit, of all things.

The man looks around, goes to rub his eyes, bangs his hand against his fishbowl space helmet, then takes the helmet off.

"Oof," the man says, "'S a bit hot in here, innit?"

Casually, he shrugs off the crash test dummy suit, revealing the tailored dress suit underneath, and tugs at his collar and tie.

"Are you... the blood god?" Techno asks slowly.

"Oh, was it your prayer that brought me here?" the man says brightly. "Yes, my name is Mumbo Jumbo, my friends and I have been in the void for a bit to escape our exploding planet-- I'll just bring them here, if you don't mind."

Without waiting to see if anyone actually minds, Mumbo sticks his hand out into the air, and it simply disappears up to his shoulder. With substantial effort, he pulls a chain of people through, all holding onto each other's hands so as not to be left behind. Four more people in crash test dummy suits come clattering onto the floor of Dream's prison cell.

Mumbo dusts himself off as his friends lie in a groaning heap. "You said you needed someone smited?"

"Uh," Techno says intelligently.

"Is it this fella?" Mumbo points over his shoulder at Dream. "I already broke my kill streak with Grian, I'd really love to kill someone right about now."

"I knew your middle name was Kills-A-Lot for a reason," a man in the pile complains.

Mumbo waves his hand disinterestedly. "Hush Grian, there's murder to be had."

Techno weighs his options. "I mean, sure you can kill Dream, but I'd be able to do a lot more murdering on your behalf if you could get me out of this prison."

"How did you end up here in the first place, Technology Blade?" Mumbo says.

"I was just visiting--"

Klaxons resound throughout the prison. The intercom screeches as it blares to life, then Sam's voice pipes through it, tinny and staticky.

"Intruders, do not move. You will be dealt with momentarily."

The only woman of the group crawls her way out from the bottom of the person-pile. "We should probably get out of here, I'm guessing? I'll do it, since Grian's too jetlagged to be useful, nerd," she says, poking the man in question with her foot while he lies there like a dead fish.

The woman shuts her eyes, and a purple mask with a crescent moon on the forehead shimmers into existence on her face. Her eyes are completely covered, but the bottom of the mask rests on the bridge of her nose while the edges of her mask are far more elongated, curving downward to her collarbones like sharp teeth.

/gamemode creative PearlescentMoon

She floats into the air unnaturally, not standing on glass or gliding with elytra but truly flying. Without further ado, she simply punches a hole in the obsidian wall and frowns at the sight that greets her: even more lava.

/fill ~-8 ~-4 ~32 ~8 ~32 ~-8 air replace lava

The lava simply evaporates into nothing in a gigantic chunk, and as the woman walks forward cobblestone blocks spring into being beneath her feet as a bridge. She walks without looking back, punching holes in walls that stand in her path.

Dream looks at the Watcher. He looks at Techno, then at the blood god, then at the pile of random people in his cell. He looks back at the Watcher and the path of destruction she's left in his prison.

"Fuck this, I'm out," he says, and takes off in a sprint following the Watcher woman's path to freedom.