Wilbur was staring at him. Dream sighed, and held out his arms. He had gone back to Pogtopia's ravine base, and now?
Waiting. Even though he was corporeal, he still couldn't do as he wanted to.
He could see the conflicted expression in Wilbur's face, in his eyes, in the emotions that swirled within. But for the first time, they were not glowing.
Was it possible? Could it be that he had finally become fully corporeal? Was it even permanent?
And if it was, would it be a blessing or a curse to the people of Pogtopia?
But Dream understood Wilbur's confusion. All the pain he had suffered at the hands of Nightmare, all the pride Nightmare had broken and all the dreams he had crushed...
And now when it seemed that the Nightmare had finally triumphed over them, here he was.
"Wilbur," Dream said softly, almost unconsciously. He could still feel something. Memories.
Wilbur continued to simply stare at him.
"I'm sorry," He continued awkwardly. Wilbur couldn't know just how sorry he was. Just how much he had done. If only he could share this burden he bore, these memories.
"I'm Dream," he said, still slowly. His mind was whirling, so he just spoke simply. "But not the Dream you know."
"What?" Wilbur asked, still confused.
"I'm the invisible player," Dream said carefully. "The one who talked to you, convinced you to have an election, to prepare your people for war."
He hesitated. He could say it. It wasn't likely that Wilbur would believe him, and he couldn't very well just go up to Nightmare, because then Nightmare would know that they knew. If he could hide that Pogtopia trusted him, well... A card that remained hidden was just another advantage.
"I'm from the future," he said bluntly. "I came to help L'Manburg."
Wilbur was backing towards the entrance. Then a boot scuffed against the ground. Dream recognized the scrape of an iron boot. It could only be Tubbo.
Most members of the newly dubbed Manburg went around in diamond or armorless.
Tubbo was a man of peace. He needed armor for nothing more than protection. All he wore were boots and a chestplate.
At least, he had been a man of peace.
Wilbur seemed then to remember what had happened, and he immediately moved aside from the designated entrance, making space for Tubbo. Tubbo came in with Tommy moments later, and once he had entered, he froze, looking at Dream.
"Hey, Tubbo," Dream said. "Sorry."
Tubbo's eyes flashed with surprise.
"Why-" Tubbo cut himself off, eyes darting between Wilbur and Dream. He was confused.
"Why now?" Wilbur said for him, eyeing Dream. "I'd like to know that myself."
"I'm not from this timeline," Dream said again, still inwardly cringing at how stupid it sounded. "I could show you, but I'm not sure how without Nightmare finding out.
Wilbur cocked his head with a confused expression, and Tubbo just said it straight.
"Who's Nightmare?"
"Nightmare is the one you've been calling Dream," Dream said grimly. Wilbur finally found his voice, and he asked a question that Dream had been hoping he wouldn't.
"And why would he be called that?" Wilbur asked carefully.
"Because of what he'll do if he gets his way," Dream said, hoping they would take that as enough of an answer.
"Which is what exactly?" Wilbur asked. He wasn't buying it, Dream could tell.
"He wants to rule," Dream explained. "And he'll do anything to make that happen."
Suddenly Dream had an idea. What if they could stop Nightmare from getting...
Dream frowned. From getting what exactly?
There was something here, he could feel it. A piece of vital information, stuck just outside the reach of his mind. Once more,
"So what do we do?" Tubbo asked, confused but wanting to help. He didn't seem to trust Dream exactly, but he didn't like the implications of Dream's statement.
And neither did Dream.
And then Wilbur had an idea.