#wishing q!cellbit godspeed tonight. he's gonna need a moment

[youphoriaot7]

CELLBIT!

The global chat somehow seems even more frantic than usual this afternoon, and he blinks blearily at the messages rocketing across the screen. The tell-tale red blinking dot of notifications is practically going haywire: private chats from Pac and Bagi, calls from Philza and Bad, messages mentioning him from Fit, Pierre, Tubbo, Baghera—

This feels like a lot, even for an average Wednesday.

Cellbit: Okay, okay, hold on. I'm on my way to spawn now.

Strapping the communicator to his arm, Cellbit tugs his jacket on as he makes his way towards the waypoint across the bridge. He's just barely awake, but something is pulling at his insides: wrong, wrong, wrong.

He wasn't out for that long. What could have possibly happened?

Taking a deep breath, his hands slide across the polished stone surface of the waypoint, and in moments, he's arrived at the main square.

Immediately, there's a barrage of voices that hit his ears. Instinctively pressing a hand to his forehead, he pushes his way out of the subway, staring in disbelief at the large gathering of people in the main square.

Bagi spots him first, quickly yanking him to the side, yelling in her traditional rapid-fire Portuguese. At the same time, he can see Pac talking to Bad nearby, the two of them clearly upset—he knows both of them well enough to see something is wrong.

Tubbo catches sight of him next, and at that point, the jig is up. Whatever Bagi had been trying to tell him is instantly drowned out by the younger's typical loud tone—which immediately catches everyone else's attention as well. Fit grabs the back of Tubbo's apron to yank him backwards towards him and Phil, who stands there shaking his head with arms crossed, but it's already too late: the damage is done.

Pierre is shouting greetings to him in his typical joyous manner, which doesn't seem to match the rest of the group's energy. Baghera seems somewhat frantic, frustrated and upset as she tugs on his arm. Cellbit manages to catch his husband's eye from across the square where he's chatting with a hyperactive Foolish, and Roier simply gives him a sympathetic look.

...something bad has happened.

Everyone is talking at once, and Cellbit rubs a hand to his temples as he tries (in vain) to quiet the group. Only some words ever catch his attention through the wide chorus of voices—"Nether," "worry," and the increasingly common cries of "what are we going to do?"

"Alright, alright, calm down!"

Eventually, with Bagi's help, he's able to get everyone to at least lower their voices, if not stop completely. Instinctively, Cellbit glances towards her and Pac, praying they know enough to clue him in. When he catches Pac's eye, however, the other man looks horrified, gaze locked on a spot in mid-air just behind Cellbit. Cellbit sighs, opening his mouth to speak—

"Good morning, Mr. President."

He can practically feel the blood drain from his face as he slowly looks over his shoulder. Sure enough, there looms Cucurucho, the damn white fucker staring straight at him with that hideous, frozen smile.

"...what did you say?" Cellbit questions, voice light-years steadier than he feels.

The bear doesn't move, repeating its words. "Good morning, Mr. President."

The square is so quiet, you could hear a screw drop. Silently, Cellbit glances back at Bagi and Pac. The woman has a look of sorrow written across her face, whereas Pac's fists are clenched in a show of barely restrained anger. "...wheres Forever?" Cellbit asks softly.

Bagi opens her mouth to reply—

"Classified."

Cellbit's eyes snap back to the bear. "I didn't ask you," he responds evenly—and he can hear a snort of pleasure from where Tubbo stands, even despite Phil's hand slapped over his mouth and Fit's hissed shush. "Bagi?"

"We think he went to the Nether," she responds, voice somewhat hoarse as she glances at him.

Pac nods. "He said it was a mission." His eyes slide to Cucurucho.

He doesn't need to continue.

Cellbit takes a deep breath.

...he has a lot to do.