Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The hum of a machine broke the oppressing air of Planet Voss. Pink mist radiating from the expression of engineering prowess, landing on top of two figures standing below it.

“I’m just saying, if we try to kill the killer, they won’t be able to kill us!”

“Shed. That’s idiotic.”

Shedletsky rolled his eyes. Just as Builderman pinched the bridge of his nose. Both were under the dispenser the engineer had built. They had been walking in between the white walls of Planet Voss when they both got hit by a stray Mass Infection from this round’s killer, 1x1x1x1.

“Then what else do you propose?” The sword master leans against one of the walls. Propping his sword up in front of him like he was holding a cane. An internal snicker erupts in his mind. He’s not that old.

“What we normally do?” Builderman raises his eyebrow. Turning to look up at Shedletsky.

The sword fighter pulls his sword out of the ground. It started to get embedded into the floor from the pressure applied to it. He sheathed it as he responded. “But different is funnn.” He draws out the last word with a whine. Overexaggerating a tad by leaning forward and lowering his shoulders as far as they can go.

“It gets us killed more times than not.” He hears the CEO exhale. Exasperated by his relentless attempts at spicing up the unending rounds they find themselves in. He just wants something different so that they don’t go insane! “We always return to the classics anyways.”

“Then how about-“ Before he could finish talking, Builderman’s head swiveled around to beyond the wall they were behind. “What? What is it?”

“Sentry’s down.” The admin replies. He starts to walk further away from the dispenser. All his wounds have been patched up, only a little bit of blood remained from the sealed cut.

Shedletsky follows after his friend. He’s got nothing better to do. He isn’t even sure where 1x is. And if Builder’s sentry was destroyed, 1x would be there. However, he didn’t even know where it was built.

Builderman starts to build another one behind a wall. One where most of the survivors would loop around the killer. He knows he’s used this spot plenty of times before too.

“So… who do you think 1x is after now?” Shedletsky bounces on the ball of his heel as he watches Builderman craft a new construct.

“Beats me. At least it’s not me.” The CEO shrugs.

They stay in silence for a while. Even after Builderman finishes the machine and stands up. They had 5 seconds left in the match. As long as no one else died.

Shedletsky can’t remember if anyone had died this round. Guest was close, but was saved by both Two Time and Elliot. He hadn’t seen Dusekkar, Noob, Chance, or Taph all round. So two of them must have been left out. He did see Seven completing a generator early into the round…

There’s no use thinking about it now. The rounds ending anyways.

True to his own inner thoughts, he was brought back to the cabins within a blink of an eye. More specifically, his own eyes.

He could hear cheers coming from everyone for another deathless round. Dusekkar floats in with Chance following after.

“Free round everyone!” Elliot cheers. “Pizzas for everyone!”

As much as he loves Elliot’s pizzas, it’s been the only thing they’ve eaten for the longest of time. Sure, he has chicken legs, but it’s never enough for everyone. So he withholds his groan in favor of joining everyone’s cheers.

He wraps his arms around both Dusekkar and Builderman. “Great to have the gang back together without any deaths this time.”

“Thy would have to agree with this line. Even if thy was unable to assist this time.” The pumpkin admin agrees.

Builderman readjusts his hard hat after it got knocked around. “Shed, be careful. I only got one of these!” He raises his voice slightly, but a smile is displayed on his face.

“That’s a lie. I know you have an entire closet full of ‘em.” Shedletsky knocks the CEO’s hard hat off with his wings. It clatters to the floor drawing some attention to them.

Laughter erupts from the interaction. Builderman simply shakes his head with a smile, bending down to pick his signature hat back up.

The good vibes end abruptly when someone gasps so audibly that it would even be heard even if someone was screaming during a chase. The culprit? Noob.

Their face is pale, hands over their mouth. They take a step back as everyone turns their attention to them. More gasps erupt from the crowd as they follow where Noob is looking.

Shedletsky follows, gazing back towards the Victors Table. There was only one person still seated. Taph.

That’s… unusual. Taph typically joined them in celebration or walked out immediately like Seven does often. But… something was off about Taph…

Wings.

He has no wings.

Why doesn’t he have wings anymore?

What happened to his wings?

The group watches in a mix of horror and empathy at the demolitionist. Silence raining throughout the once joy filled room.

A yelp is drawn from Taph suddenly. Everyone quickly starts to look at each other for help. Shedletsky looks directly at Elliot and Builderman. They could heal this, right? But… it’s outside of a round and his wings aren’t back.

Shedletsky turns back to see Taph reach behind him, grabbing onto nothing. Then the trapper turned to look for himself. And starts to hyperventilate.

Oh SFOTH he just learned. He just learned his wings are gone.

As if the sound prompted action, Shedletsky bolted to Taph in an instant. Elliot, Guest, Dusekkar, and Builderman following milliseconds after. The rest of the survivors stay back. Seeing as how Taph already started flinching and shivering with the 5 of them crowding him.

“Taph! Taph, everything’s going to be okay!” Shedletsky hears Elliot as the pizza worker holds one of Taph’s hands. Dusekkar took the other, while attempting to inspect the damages done. Just like he is.

The place where Taph’s wings had connected to his back were now little stubs. The ligaments move slightly with the instincts Taph still has. He’s seen this before. He knows well how these injuries look. He’s committed these atrocities before. Back when he was someone else.

He removed 1x’s wings back when he was Telamon. He shouldn’t have done it. Not to such a young creation kid. But he still did it.

These are just like 1x’s. And Taph had wings before this round. Now he doesn’t.

1x did this. 1x cut off Taph’s wings.

Life would have been worse if 1x were to have wings now. Able to stabilize themselves in the air, move faster, fly. Everyone here would have had a harder time surviving against them than they do now.

But… his decision cost Taph his wings… It’s his fault Taph lost his wings.

“We need to get ‘em to his cabin!” Builderman shouts, drawing everyone’s attention. The remaining survivors move out of the way for Taph.

“His wounds are healed. There’s nothing I can do to bring his wings back.” Elliot dejectedly notes. Looking up to Dusekkar and Guest.

“Thy’s magic is only powerful enough to support, not repair. Healing magic weakened, it will only be able to treat with light care.” Shedletsky watches as Dusekkar squeezes Taph’s hand. Attempting to ground the demolitionist, only for it to not work.

“I can easily carry him to his place.” Guest speaks up. Before he turns to look at Elliot. “I will need some help though.” The pizza worker nods at a fast pace.

Guest 1337 and Elliot bring Taph’s arms around their own separate necks. The minimum wage worker keeps his worried expression on Taph, occasionally shifting it to look at everyone around.

Shedletsky watches all this happen. It’s his fault that Taph’s permanently dewinged. He’s the root cause. The thought of pizza has become even less appetizing than before.

Builderman rushes ahead and opens all the doors needed for the trip. Grabbing the medkit from the cabin’s shelf as he passes the front door. Dusekkar follows at a slow pace, yet faster than Shedletsky. He’s muttering spells with his eyes closed. Holding onto his staff with a strong grip. The tip of it glows a light blue, fading into a green at the top. His internal flame grew intense from the strain.

They finally reach Taph’s cabin after what felt like an hour. When Shedletsky realistically knows it’s been at most a minute. The cabin had traps littered around the place. So everyone had to slow down besides Dusekkar.

The group made it to Taph’s room without any scratches or explosions. A few close calls due to how fast they were going though. Elliot tripped over himself after almost stepping into a bear trap. While Builderman almost triggered a tripwire.

Guest 1337 and Elliot placed Taph into his bed. The demolitionist curls up into a ball the second they stop touching him. Back facing everyone.

Dusekkar finally releases the spell he’s been building up. A soft shower of green particles float over to Taph. Coating the bomber in the substance, before it absorbed into his body. The majority of the surface area the particles touched was where his wings used to connect to his body.

Once the spell ends, Dusekkar slumps. Nearly falling to the floor if not for Guest’s fast reactions. “That is about as much as thy is able to contribute.“ The mage exasperates. Clutching onto Guest as his legs tremble.

Dusekkar takes some time to recover his strength, enough to stand up. Although, he heavily relies on his staff to keep his balance. All through that time, the only sounds in the entire room come from Taph. Sobbing, uneven breathing, and flapping head wings.

Guest 1337 grabs the medkit out of Builderman’s hands before kneeling down next to Taph’s bed. He takes out some disinfectant wipes and gauze. The veteran cleans the wounds lightly, making sure they are cleaned even with the after-round healing factor. Taph would flinch every time the wipe touched where his wings used to connect to his body. Everyone cringed in empathy, even if they have never and will never experience what the demolitionist is going through. Elliot especially, as he winces every other flinch from Taph.

Once Guest made sure the wounds were properly cleaned, he started to wrap the gauze around Taph’s chest. Lifting up his robes slightly to get the gauze to touch skin. The cloak stays on, not revealing Taph’s body. Especially not when the demolitionist hugs himself tighter at the action.

The military soldier rips off the end of the gauze after he finishes. He stands up before turning back to everyone. “We should give him some time alone.”

Builderman nods. “It would be beneficial for him to rest up.” He keeps his eyes on the wounded form of their employee.

“I’ll bring him some pizza later…” Elliot worriedly mumbles as he runs out of the cabin. Guest followed after, only at a slower pace.

All that is left in the room are the three admins. The ones closest to Taph, from what Shedletsky can remember. He hasn’t seen Taph talk to anyone else. He’s been either alone or with one of the other admins ever since he’s been brought here. It doesn't help that the others don’t know the language in which the demolitionist speaks. He doesn’t even know it either. Only certain buzz words that he picked up over the course of these games.

If he had just left to find 1x instead of sticking with Builderman… If he had just learned sign language… If he hadn’t negated 1x and Taph from seeing each other again…

His fists lessen, alongside the scowl he didn’t even know formed on his face. A hand on his shoulder brought him out of it. “Thee had no opportunity to gain knowledge of the actions set in place. There was no way to brace.”

Shedletsky finally turns from the small, trembling figure in the bed to the mage next to him. While Dusekkar kept his sights on Taph, he kept speaking to Shedletsky while his hand stayed on the swordfighter’s shoulder. “The being of hatred’s current actions are at fault. While thee’s prior choices were the root cause, thee should not carry the burden of this assault.”

“Thee’s negative emotions housed many opportunities to perform something unique. Yet hatred runs deep enough to disregard those choices in favor of something so bleak.” Dusekkar drops his hand. Pulling his staff back up. He starts to walk away. Footsteps light yet audible. “Do take thy’s words into consideration. Don’t let thee’s thoughts disrupt thee’s dictation.”

As the footsteps grew silent, all that was left were Builderman and Shedletsky. One kept an eye on the injured demotionist, while the other eyed their fellow admin.

“I… think it’s time we get goin’…” The CEO breaks the silence. Walking closer to Shedletsky. Yet the hand on his shoulder does nothing to move him. He stands firmly in place.

“I can’t.” The sword master mutters. He can’t bring himself to look away. Even with Dusekkar’s words, he is still at fault. He can’t leave Taph alone. They left him alone to deal with 1x and this is how it ended up like.

The silence returns for some time. Neither speaking nor meeting each other’s gaze. Until Builderman gave a deep sigh. “Alri’t.” He brought his hand off Shedletsky, starting to walk off. Only to stop in the doorway. He turns back to speak once more. “We’re here for the both of y’all. Yer’ just need to give us a holler.”

And with a click of the door closing, Shedletsky is left alone with Taph. The demolitionist hasn’t stopped moving the entire time. The protruding ligaments in his back continue to shift under the gauze, as if he was moving his wings to surround himself. The quiet sniffles and sobs grew ten times louder with the lack of sound from the other survivors.

Shedletsky slowly creeps over to Taph’s bed. The demolitionist kept a tight grip around his body. Attempting to give himself as much comfort as he could. It wasn’t enough, and Shedletsky could tell.

The admin sat down on the bed, right by Taph’s head. It caused the mattress to dip slightly, even with its hard texture. He could see Taph flinch slightly from the shift.

Shedletsky gives a soft sigh before pulling his legs up onto the bed. Crossing his legs right above Taph’s head. He carefully brings one of the demolitionist's remaining head wings into his hands. It fights against his hold to get back to where it rested, right in front of Taph’s face. While his grip was careful, it was also strong. Not letting it snap back to its place.

He brings it to half of its wingspan. The black with golden tip feathers are left astray. Folded over each other and left out of place. Dirt, grime, and ash lodged in between them. How long has it been since Taph preened his feathers?

So Shedletsky does it. He picks out the broken off feathers. Cleans out the invading filth trapped inside. Realigns the feathers back into place. All throughout the wing.

He was so focused that once he was done, he didn’t realize the difference in Taph’s behavior. The demolitionist had gone still. Soft sobs still racked through his body, but they were muted from before. His other wing wasn’t tight against his face, instead it was left drooping at the side of his head.

Shedletsky cracked a small smile. He pulled Taph closer to him. His head now in the admin’s lap. Even from this angle, the demolitionist's hood still covered his face. It now lay flat against his face until it reached the top of his mask. Completely hiding his eyes from the world.

He brought his hands to Taph’s other wing. Starting to preen that one as well. Along with keeping an eye out for how Taph reacts.

By the time he reaches halfway from the base of the wing, he could tell Taph was asleep. All tension has left the man’s body. While his arms still wrapped themselves around his body in the form of a hug, they weren’t nearly as tight as before. Instead, laying limp against his chest. Which was rising and falling at a steady rate.

He still has half of the wing left. So he continues. But not without muttering apologies. Whispering them for only the wind to hear. For the recipient is fast asleep and unknowledgeable.

Taph doesn’t know he was Telamon. And he isn’t sure how to make it up to Taph for everything he’s done and influenced.

Hopefully being there is enough.

Hopefully protecting him from now on will be enough.

Hopefully the apologies muttered to no one awake will be enough.

Oh how he wishes he could go back and save Taph from 1x. Sword Fight On The Heights he wishes he could change how he acted as Telamon.

But he can’t.

And he has to live with it.

Live with the guilt that he’s at fault.

At fault for Taph being dewinged.

He finished preening Taph. The wings are now left to lay flat against the bed. Shedletsky makes his way towards the closed door, opening it softly.

He stops in the doorway, hand on the frame. He turns back to Taph’s sleeping form and mutters one last time. “I’m sorry.”

He gently closes the door.

Chapter Text

Bless the Spawn for its gracious gift of a lack of rounds! It’s brought this present not without trial, of course! It’s the way of the Spawn to give and test its followers and non-believers.

Ever since the demolitionist returned from the last round without wings, it’s been awfully quiet. Whispers between their fellow survivors about how the demolitionist is doing and where to go from here.

They’ve never seen the demolitionist without wings. It pains them to see him suffer like this. Especially with how everyone is taking it.

While the matches seemed to be paused for the remainder of the day, their lives as Survivors are never over! Especially not theirs. They need to spread the word of the Spawn!

It’s been a while since the sword fighter had come back to the main cabin. Worn out and tired. Mentally exhausted. They know how that feels.

Azure. Oh how they miss Azure. Performing that ritual and sacrificing him was the hardest thing to do. Yet… it gave them their second life. It allows them to help out the people trapped here. Enduring the Spawn’s trials alongside them.

Sacrificing their partner gave them their second life… gave them wings… Gave them wings.

Sacrificing someone in the name of the Spawn gave them wings!

That’s it! They can help the demolitionist by getting his wings back! They just need to find a suitable vessel.

They got their wings from someone close to them. The demolitionist doesn’t seem to be close to many people here… That mage, the sword master, the admin, and the being of hatred.

They can’t possibly capture any of their teammates. They all provide something of use in these games set up by their god. No matter how close they are to the demolitionist. All that leaves is the hatred creation.

With newfound vigor, Two Time’s grin grows. They pick themselves out of the shadowed corner of the cabin. Strutting outside of the main cabin and to the demolitionist’s.

The personal cabin is not much different from theirs. Just more trapped. Which makes for a fun challenge!

Two Time jumps over bear traps, crawls under some tripwires, and spins around a few mines littered around. All until they reach the door to the bedroom.

The door opens with a bang. The force of their push caused the momentum of the door to hit the wall loudly. “Demolitionist!” They shout with a large grin.

The owner of the cabin shoots up from his spot on the bed. His hood still over his eyes as his remaining head wings shoot up to its full wingspan. The feathers don’t seem to displace from their positions, but they still rise with fright.

“One has a great opportunity for you to regain your wings!” Two Time cheers as they approach the demolitionist at the side of the bed. Grabbing hold on his arm. The demolitionist flinches slightly.

He tilts his head slightly as his wings retract to their usual form at the side of his head. “We can sacrifice that creation of hatred! Just like how one got their wings!”

While their wings are limited to their second life, they are still technically wings. Made from their own bones that break out whenever they reach the requirements for revival. So if the demolitionist gets them too, then they could also have a second life!

However, the demolitionist’s head wings shoot back up. He shakes his head while crossing and uncrossing his hands. That’s the common sign of no. Is it because they still care about that manifestation of hatred?

“Do you still care about that being?” Two Time asks with a tilt of the head. Bringing one of their fingers to their cheek.

The demolitionist pauses for a moment. Before tilting his head side to side. Along with moving one of his hands in the same manner.

“Ok…” Two Time trails off, looking outside the boarded windows into the dark and empty forest. “One doesn’t quite understand, but will think of something!” With that exclamation, they turn back around and run outside the house.

What to do, what to do. If the demolitionist doesn’t want to sacrifice that being of hatred, who else would be a suitable candidate?

A flash of gray passes by their peripherals. They focus on the figure. Their permanent grin grows bigger as their bony tail starts to wag. Praise the Spawn for giving them guidance in these trying times!

They break into the demolitionist’s room again. The same reaction followed. Waking the demolitionist from his sleep with a jolt. But this time, Two Time doesn’t waste a moment.

“One’s got something for you, demolitionist!” They take hold of the demolitionist’s arm before starting to drag them out of the house. The slight flapping of small wings and the fluttering of layered clothing are the only sound produced besides footsteps.

Two Time leads the demolitionist to their own cabin. Opening it with unbridled anticipation. He will surely appreciate their commitment to bringing him happiness. Bringing his wings back!

Right in the middle of their living room lays a ritual. A summoning circle made out of red dyes from the small red poppies that seem to grow around the military man’s cabin. Where the Spawn’s points meet the outer circle there are similar red candles. Lit, producing a faint orange light in the dark room.

And in the middle, the gambler. Their hands and legs tied to excess daggers stabbed into the floor. Another rope was placed in his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Only releasing muffled groans and screams. Two Time’s grin widens as they turn to face the demolitionist.

His head wings were now no longer freshly taken care of. Feathers puffed out and ruffled. His hands wide open at his sides while the tension in his shoulders cause them to be raised up high. He must be excited for the ritual!

Two Time pulls out the dagger they use in the rounds. The one he killed Azure with. They hold it out towards the demolitionist. “The Spawn will graciously gift you wings just like one’s if you sacrifice in its name!”

The gambler keeps struggling in his bindings. If he moves any further away from the center then it won’t work. Their smile twitches along with their eyelid.

The demolitionist takes the dagger from their hands. Two Time claps their hands in excitement. He will gain wings just like them! He won’t be sad anymore!

Two Time watches with intent as the demolitionist approaches the trapped gambler. Anticipation growing as he kneels down. The gambler shakes and attempts to break out more with how close the demolitionist had gotten.

Suddenly, one of the gambler’s hands gets freed from its bindings. Two Time watches in shock as the other ropes were broken, freeing the gambler.

The gambler unties the rope in their mouth as both he and the demolitionist pick themselves off of the ground. “Oh my Telamon, that scared me.” They say with a slight shake in their voice. Their usual grin strained.

“Why do that? Do you not want your wings back?” Two Time asks with a tilted head. Their permanent grin still lingers.

The demolitionist stands still. Shaking slightly like he is at the verge of tears again. He nods slightly. The gambler places a hand on the demolitionist’s shoulder. Squeezing it lightly.

“Time, this isn’t what Taph would want.” The gambler looks between the two of them. “He does want his wings back, but not through these means. Right?” They turn back to see the demolitionist nod.

“So… how will you get your wings back?” They question further. The demolitionist hugs himself again. The gambler takes the dagger out of his hands while rubbing his back.

“We can’t. That’s just what we will have to adapt to.” The gambler mutters with sincerity. He lowers his sunglasses, placing them on top of his fedora. “All we can do is be there for him. Just being there, not having solutions.” The gambler’s eyes are filled with experience. The look that showed that they or someone close to them had gone through something similar.

So, the demolitionist isn’t looking for a way to get his wings back? Then… how will he function without them? Hasn’t he been with them his whole life?

And being there? They thought he would appreciate a quick way to get them back, and this was. Yet he didn’t go through with it…

Just being there…

Probably would have helped in their past.

“Okay…” Two Time draws out. “Okay. Just be there. One can do that!” They take hold of the demolitionist’s arm for the third time. Starting to drag him out of their cabin. “How about we look at the flowers growing around the cabins? Poppies are growing around the military veteran’s housing and nightshades grow around mine. I wonder which grows around yours!”

They could see the demolitionist nod along as he got dragged along. Two Time raises their free hand into the air as the two of them return to the demolitionist’s cabin.

They can be there. They’ll be there unlike how they were with Azure. Bless the Spawn for the people it trapped here with them. Even if they don’t follow its teachings, they are helping them to understand people more! Allowing them to help people more! And they hope the demolitionist can get through this trial with the Spawn’s guidance.

Chapter Text

It was so unfair! He wanted to play more yesterday! But the games ended after 1x’s game. They didn’t even tag anyone! It was his turn next and he was ready! He wanted to play tag with his dad again.

But of course the Spectre had to end them early. Boooo. C00lkidd remained grumpy all night. It was his turn after all!

The sound of that old clock started to chime. He clapped his hands. It was finally his turn! He can’t wait! He’s going to tag all of dad’s friends!

A white cloud flooded into his room. One filled to the brim with art. Most in red crayon. They were on paper, the floors, the walls, and even the ceiling. Most depicted him and his father. He misses dad outside of tag… But he’ll be able to see him now!

When the cloud finally faded away, he could see which map he ended up at. He was right under the giant and not working ferris wheel. Oh! Yay! It’s his carnival! He likes this place! Including the Dracobloxxer exhi- ech- eshibi- room. It’s always where he heads first.

Someone is always hiding out there too. There's almost always those red machines that dad and his friends always crouch at. Pulling at colored strings. He’s tried to work on them before just to see what was so special about them. But the Spectre told him that it was actually helping the hiders. And that would be unfair for him to help them out!

As he turns the corner past a Dracobloxxer statue, he spots someone who kind of blends in with the red building. Oh look! It’s Mr. Elliot!

“Hi Mr. Elliot!” He runs up to the pizza worker, fist ready to tag. Hopefully he’ll play like how the rules are supposed to be played. It’s not fun when he’s always the tagger. It’s supposed to transfer who tags!

“Shoot.” He hears Mr. Elliot mutter. The employee jumps up to his feet and places a hand over his visor. Mr. Elliot takes off. This is going to be fun!

C00lkidd chases after Mr. Elliot. The Builder Brother’s Pizza worker fixes the hold his visor has on his head. He speeds up after adjusting it. That's so annoying! C00lkidd pulls out one of the many bricks he can make and throws it towards Mr. Elliot. Hitting the pizza employee on the back of the head.

“Tag! You’re it!” C00lkidd shouts as he activates his fast move. Pulling out the sword his dad got him when he was younger before launching himself towards Mr. Elliot with a click of his dad’s cool red panel.

His Override connects with Mr. Elliot. He hears him gasp before going silent. Aww. Is he already asleep? C00lkidd lightly kicks at Mr. Elliot, who is on the floor now. “Aww.” He groans. “‘Night Mr. Elliot.”

He turns around to look for more runners. Hopefully his dad is around. He punches the floor, laughing while doing so. “Ready or not, here we come!” Two of his minions, both dawned in pizzeria employee outfits, crawl out of the ground. They both start walking in the direction of the “Not Free Pizza” van. He laughs. He painted that sign. The white van was far too boring when surrounded by fun.

When he rounds the corner into the van, he spots one of dad’s friends. He only knows Mr. Elliot and his dad. So he’s taken to using nicknames for them. This one was Mr. Hood. He doesn’t like Mr. Hood. He keeps blinding him and tripping him. It’s not fair! That’s not how you play tag!

Mr. Hood seemed to be in the corner of the van. Next to the red machine, but not looking at it. Instead he was facing the open door leading to the birthday room. His back facing the machine. Mr. Hood’s knees were brought up to his chest.

That’s not fun. He’s not even attempting to run. It’s not going to be fun tagging him if he doesn’t try to dodge!

“I’m going to give you a five second headstart! You better run!” C00lkidd sing-songs as he sways. Watching as Mr. Hood flinches so hard that C00lkidd wants to make the comparison that he was like a bird ready to take flight. But dad always told him that it would be rude to say something like that.

Mr. Hood starts to run, nearly tripping as he jumps off the truck. “Okay! Ready?” He asks to no one. “One. Two. Five! Here I come!” C00lkidd cheers as he chases after Mr. Hood.

They run right through the birthday room, leading towards the entrance to the carnival. C00lkidd throws one of his bricks at Mr. Hood, hitting him right on the back. Mr. Hood tripped further than he usually would. Normally he doesn’t fall over. Not with those yellow wings of his on his back. Actually… now that he thinks about it, where are they?

C00lkidd catches up to Mr. Hood as he attempts to get up, only to push himself too far up, leaving him disorientated. At least, that's what C00lkidd thinks when seeing Mr. Hood fall back to the floor.

He picks up Mr. Hood by the neck. He seems tired. He should help Mr. Hood get some more rest before they play again. But that question has been nagging him for the one second he thought of it. “Mister, where are your wings?”

Not even a second later, Mr. Hood fell asleep. Aww. And he really wanted to know the answer to that question. Maybe he will know next time they play!

C00lkidd leaves Mr. Hood to fall to the floor to rest. He looks around the open area before spotting a burger hat running from the Lost and Found building towards the truck. It's dad! He knows how to play tag correctly!

C00lkidd runs away from the sleeping body of Mr. Hood. Long forgetting about his question and the lack of wings from them for now. All he wants to do is win at tag! Besides, Mr. Elliot and Mr. Hood are already asleep. That doesn’t make for fun runners.

“Daaaadddd!!!” He calls out. Rapidly approaching his father’s location.

Chapter Text

Some time has passed since his employee lost his wings. He knew it happened with 1x. And yet… he never expected to see it happen to Taph. Especially not by 1x themselves.

Taph has been dying much more often than he normally would too. Those wings must have kept his balance stable. Because he’s been tripping even outside of rounds. Often needing an escort from the main cabin to his personal one. The common contenders for this job are Dusekkar, Shedletsky, Elliot, and him.

His demolitionist seems to be getting used to his situation though… His tripping has lessened. Occasionally walking back to his cabin without problem. But someone’s always with him just to make sure. The one time Taph explicitly rejected an escort, he was found curled up on the floor. Having tripped and landed on his back, given the dirt left on his cloak.

Builderman stares towards the door of the main cabin. People were talking, having as much fun as they could given the situation. But he was tuning them out. Shedletsky should have been back by now.

“Builderman?” A voice draws him out of his reprieve. He turns to be confronted with the red uniform of Builder Brother’s Pizza. It’s an easy mistake for him to be mistaken as one of the Builder brothers or having started the business. But he holds no relation to them. Just a coincidence they share that name.

“Ah, sorry. Yes Elliot?” The CEO adjusts his hard hat slightly. He needs to remain professional. He can’t just let his emotions overpower rationality. He can worry about Shedletsky and Taph when he is alone. Not in front of everyone.

Elliot looks from Builderman, to the door, and back. “How about you go check on the two. Tell me if Taph needs a slice.” The employee adjusts his visor. The two of them are far more similar than first thought. And Builderman can’t get that out of his head.

They both care too much about other people. Elliot is willing to rush into certain death to help anyone. While he is willing to shadow ban anyone causing his employees trouble, for the most part. They both share the same nervous tic. Both have “Builder” in their full names. Both provide healing in these games.

It’s just, Elliot hasn’t seen as much as he had. Elliot’s still young. A work-a-holic, like him, but still able to be irresponsible and learn from that. Builderman can’t. He’s old, experienced. The leader. He has to keep everyone safe. He can’t just do spontaneous actions without thinking it through. Analyze and adapt for a safer outcome for everyone.

And yet he failed his own worker.

“Ah, there’s no need. They will return when they are ready.” He waves his hand dismissively. And it’s true. Shedletsky will return when he’s done helping Taph. The demolitionist might not, often not being seen until the next round. But Shedletsky, and mostly everyone who helps Taph to his cabin, returns to the main one. It's just, Shedletsky hasn’t been this late before. “I’m sure Shed will let yer’ know if Taph needs a slice.”

Elliot’s eyebrows crease. Clearly he’s not doing a good job hiding his feelings well… The delivery man gives a slow sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he does so. “Alright. But you can leave at any point to visit you know? I’m sure Taph would appreciate it.”

Would he though? He didn’t do his job at protecting him. He’s always prided himself on the safety of all Robloxians, especially those that worked at HQ. And yet he let this happen to the demolitionist. He let what happened to the demolitionists continue.

Oh… He’s a bad boss, isn’t he?

He did the bare minimum to help out with those protests. A few speeches before returning to work. Work he categorized as more important than the lives of those who worked at Headquarters under him. With him. He left the Demolitionist Branch to fend for themselves while he gave them more work that led to worse protests. He led some of them to their deaths.

But, he was trying to keep Robloxia running…

That's… a terrible excuse. If he truly wanted Robloxia to run smoothly, he should have put a stop to those protests. He should have looked at the ban logs to make sure they were valid. He should have checked in more. He should have… He should have-

Nothing’s going to change the past. So he just has to change the future. One step at a time. And the major step is getting out of here. This realm. Back to Robloxia.

Builderman feels something in his pocket, bringing him back to the cabin. Elliot is no longer around, instead hanging out with Chance and Two Time. He isn’t quite sure how long he’s been out of it. But Shedletsky still isn’t back.

He pulls out what was in his pocket. It was a feather. A golden one at that. It’s been in his jacket’s pocket for as long as he remembers. Far longer before he got trapped in this place. Back at Headquarters.

He had been walking through the lower floors, the ones typically reserved for the lower tier of workers. Which happened to include the demolitionists. The floor was chaotic. Demolitionists running around with paperwork and live explosives. None of them noticed him as he walked through. It felt nice, not being recognized and treated like an idol. Like he was someone that would get them banned if they looked at him wrong.

He entered the office of one of his employees. It was dark inside, clearly they were out. He remembers giving them 15 houses that needed to be demolished that day. So they must be out there completing those demolitions.

The office was a mess, from what he could make out. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark atmosphere. Uncompleted explosives, paperwork left scattered, post-it notes hanging off the walls with some on the floor, and feathers everywhere.

He can’t help but snicker at the monstrosity left in there. It was a mess. But it was made by his best demolitionist. They would always follow instructions and keep their explosions contained.

Builderman kneeled down to the floor and picked up a golden feather. Smooth. Soft. Clearly newly shedded. A smile forms on his face. He places it inside his jacket’s pocket before pulling out an object from the other.

It was a magenta crystal. He’s been keeping an eye on which demolitionist would work best with the item. The glowing core of a Subspace Tripmine. One of the most destructive explosives. Only given out to trusted individuals inside of Headquarters.

He leaves it on the desk before leaving. Closing the door, bringing the room back into darkness. Only lit up from the afterglow of the Subspace core.

That feather, from so long ago, was still in his pocket. He forgot it was in there. And here it is. It’s rough and coarse, no longer pristine like how it was. But it still belonged to him. To Taph. Originating from the wings that are no longer attached to him.

His fist tightens around the feather. Slightly crushing it. He releases his grip in fear that it would break. Only a few bristles were folded around where his hands were. Builderman starts to smooth out the feather. Trying to bring back its pristine shape.

It’s not new, nor is it the full thing. But he thinks Taph would like it back. Builderman hopes he does.

Standing up, he leaves the cabin unannounced. Keeping his eyes on the feather. Feeling it and smoothing it out. Making sure it’s presentable as he makes his way to Taph’s cabin.

He shouldn’t be this nervous. Shallow breaths, twitchy hands, sweaty palms. All he’s doing is visiting his co-worker. Or, previous co-worker. One that is injured beyond repair. Will Taph even like this? Would it remind him of what he no longer has? He should quit while he’s ahead. Pretend this never happened. Returning to the main cabin like his emotions didn’t get the better of him. He should go back. He will-

The sound of knocking breaks him out of his cluttered mind. His hand half raised towards the cabin door in front of him. Taph’s door. Oh Telamon. It’s too late. He just sealed his fate.

“Come in!” A muffled voice makes it through the walls. There’s no going back. Builderman sighs, placing the feather into his jacket pocket before opening the door.

The cabin’s in an almost sterile state. It hasn’t changed since he first came in here. Traps still presented in the same spot, furniture left untouched, no feathers. Builderman is at least relieved that they disabled the traps after that first day. It would be hell if they had to avoid them after every round. But they couldn’t take them out. They tried that before. It led Taph to an even worse breakdown, combined with losing his wings not long before. So they are now kept in the same spots, just unable to be triggered.

All the doors are open, with only one being an exception. The bedroom. So Builderman traverses the house until he reaches it. Knocking on it before slowly opening it. Giving the people inside it some time to prepare.

The room was dark. Light nearly non-existent besides the stream coming from the open door. It shined onto two figures. One on the bed, the other in front of it. The room looked nearly identical to how it was when he last visited. Just with a few more feathers that were black with golden tips.

Shedletsky sat on the bed. Hands intertwined with Taph’s head wings, who was sitting in front of the bed. The demolitionist’s cloak was more creased than normal. If he had to guess, Taph hasn’t changed out of this pair for a while. He knows that the demolitionist tends to sleep fully covered, likely from the paranoia embedded into his being after the protests. Protests he didn’t put a stop to.

He watches as Taph attempts to sit straight up. Pulling his head wing from Shedletsky’s grip. His shoulders hunched together as his hands rested in his lap after wiping at his face. Ready and at attention. The exact opposite he should be.

Builderman sighs. “Taph. You don’t need to save face. I could care less about the facade.” The demolitionist shakes his head before standing up. Wobbling slightly, but remaining upright. “I mean it.”

Taph keeps shaking his head. Not before bringing his hands back up to where his eyes are under the hood. His shoulders bounce as some hiccups make themselves known behind his mask.

Builderman closes the gap between them. Extending his arms and pulling Taph into a hug. But right as his hands meet Taph’s upper back, the demolitionist yelps. Builderman retracts his hands. “Oh Telamon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He gets interrupted as Taph pulls him back into the hug. Firmly planting his head on the engineer’s shoulder. It's getting wet already through the fabrics. A sad smile forms on his face. Reciprocating the hug, this time placing his hands on Taph’s lower back, away from where the demolitionist’s wings used to connect to his body.

He can feel as Taph’s entire body weight leans onto him. His knees must have given out. The demolitionist’s grip tightens as Builderman adjusts his hold. Keeping the two of them up.

The two stay like that for a while. Until Taph’s hold weakens slightly. “I actually came in to give yer’ somethin’.” Builderman speaks up. He removes one hand from Taph’s back, still keeping the demolitionist upright. He pulls out the golden feather from his pocket.

Builderman brings it to Taph’s vision. Who had turned slightly away from the CEO’s soaked shoulder to see. Builderman can’t gauge Taph’s reaction from this angle, but he does see the demolitionist shakily reach out for it.

He lets Taph grab it with his trembling hands. Bringing it behind him, keeping the hug going. He still can’t quite tell what Taph’s reaction is as the shadow overcasting his face makes it impossible with the darkness of the room. But he feels Taph tighten the hug once more.

The demolitionist places his head back onto Builderman’s shoulder. It's getting even wetter than before. Great, he made Taph cry more. He shouldn’t have brought it. “I’m sorry-” He attempts to apologize, only to feel one of Taph’s hands reach around his back to meet the demolitionist’s face. Repeating the motions of his open hand’s fingers meeting his chin, before extending them in front of him. Over and over again.

“Thank you.”

Builderman smiles. A warm, soft one he hasn’t given to anyone besides Shedletsky and Dusekkar when trapped in this place. “Yer’ welcome.” He mumbles as he tightens the hug on his end. Letting Taph continue to sign while they hug.

“I’ll… just leave you two to it.” Builderman had forgotten Shedletsky was even here. The sword master made his presence known with a whisper, only to shut the door behind him. Leaving the two of them alone in the dark bedroom.

One that’s not cold, but warm. Filled with the comfort that both haven't experienced in years. Builderman silently vows during the hug. Builderman will be there for everyone who works at HQ after they get out of here. He will be there for Taph, just as the demolitionist was for him. He won’t let this happen to him ever again. Sure, they will die plenty of times here. But he will not let Taph get harmed in such a way again.

Chapter Text

The flip of a coin could be heard from outside of a cabin. One out of the way from the rest. The figure in front of it checks what their coin landed on. Tails. Chance ignores this anyways and knocks on the door.

It’s been a while since he’s seen Taph outside of his own cabin. The only times have been during rounds and after them. But no matter what, he hasn’t been left alone unless he’s inside of his own home.

They need to get the demolitionist out of there. It can’t be good for him to be stuck inside! It didn’t help them.

“Heya Taph! You mind if I come in?” He calls out. He stands around waiting for a moment. Is Taph not going to answer him?

Oh… right.

He knocks again. “I’m going to come in alright?” He flicks his coin in the air once more. Catching it before it hits the ground. Tails. He shrugs before opening the door.

He hasn’t actually been inside Taph’s cabin yet. He and Taph haven’t really gotten along much since the demolitionist joined them. Taph was good when it came to setting up traps in rounds. But he was barely seen in them in the first place. Outside of them, he typically hung out with the admins. Their inner circles didn’t really clash.

The interior is messy. He could spot some broken tripwires, a closed bear trap, and some disarmed explosives. Were they all set up before? So why are they still out like this? Are some of them still armed?

There’s still one door closed. The one that leads to the bedroom. Chance approaches it, avoiding every disabled trap as he goes. Who knows, maybe they are still active. He keeps flipping his coin to see the results. Tails. Tails. Tails. Lady Luck must not like him right now.

He opens the bedroom door with a flair. Bringing one arm into the air while the other rests on his hip. “Taph! It’s time to get out there and face the sunshine!” His bright smirk wavers slightly. “Or rather- the moonshine. As there is no sun here…”

Taph’s back is facing the door, but he turns his head around to face them. “Yeah… I made that pretty awkward.” Chance laughs, the hand originally in the air moves to start scratching the back of his neck.

“Anyways, get up lazy bum!” He moves over and grabs Taph’s arm. Lightly pulling him into a seated position. He can feel the demolitionist’s glare on him.

“Let’s have some fun! The rest of the crew are asleep, so it will just be us two!” Chance fixes his fedora with a confident smirk. There’s no way Taph could reject him! He just needs some fun to get back out there! Just for a little bit. “So how about it? Darts? Pool? DDR?”

Chance throws his coin in the air once more. Tails. He internally groans at his terrible luck. But watching Taph go back to his original position brings it outwards. “Come on man. At least for a little while!”

Taph turns back to look at him. His head wings drooping, yet freshly preened. Chance takes this as his answer. Rushing forward to pull Taph upwards by his arm. “I knew you would take the offer! Let’s go!” He leads the demolitionist out of the bedroom by the arm. Slowing down when avoiding the trap remnants throughout the house.

Leading Taph all the way back to the main cabin. Empty and quiet. The rounds have ended for the day, so they will be free to spend time in the building without worry! Chance only wishes that there were slot machines in here so that he can continue to gamble. The withdrawals can be hard to handle when they hit. Especially when the 50/50s of his coin flips aren’t enough to satiate them.

Chance first leads Taph to the dart board. He’s seen how competitive the demolitionist had been with the admins when they would play. He theorizes that might be why Taph’s good at throwing his Subspaces. Or the opposite.

“How about darts? You seem to have fun when you play with Builder, Shed, and Dusek.” Chance talks as he walks over to the board, grabbing hold of the darts. Some are still stuck inside of the target after a forgotten round. He picks out the red and blue ones. Leaving the green and yellow darts in the bin underneath the board.

He hands Taph the blue darts, keeping the red ones for himself. “You can go ahead and go first. Use those demolitionist prowesses! I’m sure you’ll blow this out of the park.” Chance snickers.

Taph doesn’t reply in any obvious way. Not even a shift in posture. Instead, the demolitionist throws one of the darts. Lodging itself directly in the inner ring, causing the 20 point column to triple in points. 

“O-Oh…” They were not ready for that. They haven’t even set up the tally system! Or how much they were playing until! Chance assumed it was the normal 501. Reducing the number all the way to zero. Chance awkwardly laughs. “Let me just add the score board onto the chalk board…”

The gambler walks over towards the Victors Table. Writing down the current scores of both of them on the green chalk board attached to the wall. 501 at the top for both, separated by a line to make it into a table.

In the time he drew up the table, Taph had approached him from behind. Chance flinched at the subtly the demolitionist displays. “Already finished?” He asks, stepping out of the way. Walking backwards until he can see the dart board.

One blue dart on the inner ring, under the 15 column. And another dart lodged into the double bullseye. Oh… Taph’s that good… Thank Telamon they didn’t place any bets before this.

He can feel a gaze on the side of his head. He turns to see Taph staring at him. The piece of chalk is back under the chalkboard, resting on the tray below the wall-mounted board. The table has been filled in. His score is still set at 501. While Taph’s is now at 346. That stare is telling him it’s his turn. He can tell without Taph explicitly saying anything, signed or otherwise.

“Right… right. It’s my turn.” He awkwardly chuckles again. Moving to stand in front of the dart board. He can do this. It’s just darts! He’s gone through worse! Death is so much worse than this!

He reels his hand back, before pushing forward. Releasing the red dart in his hand in the direction of the board. Behind his shades, he watches as the dart falls short of the board, lodging itself into the wooden walls of the cabin. Sweat collected onto his forehead from the silent yet judging eyes to the left of him.

“I-I’m just warming up! That’s all!” He looks away from Taph. Chance takes out his coin in the other hand, dart ready in the other. He flips the golden object that holds monetary value. Heads.

A smirk forms on his face. He turns to face Taph. “Watch this.” He confidently smiles before throwing his dart. He keeps his eyes locked on Taph the whole time. The demolitionist nods. Chance uses that as a cue to look at the board.

There, directly in the middle of the board, was his dart. A double bullseye. “Told you all I needed was a warm up throw!” Chance belts out a laugh while placing his hands onto his hips.

He throws the last dart of his turn. It lands in the column for 14 points. Nearly out of the playfield, but still within. Namely, the double ring.

Chance confidently struts over to the table. Marking his turn’s point total from 501 to 423. Taph may have the lead now, but he can catch up! It’s not over until the last turn! And he is known for his luck.

The gambler turns to watch the demolitionist’s turn. One dart was already lodged into the board. The other two were quick to follow. Taph stood perfectly still. No movement whatsoever. Or, that's what he is trying to convey.

When throwing the last dart, his body loses balance. Whiffing the shot, leading it to land outside the play field. Directly over the number 2. Chance rushes over and catches Taph before he could fall onto the floor. “Woah man! You good?”

They stand still for a while. Locked in place. Chance keeping Taph from landing face first on the floor. Silence rained over the cabin.

Eventually, Taph finally used effort to pick himself up. That's good. Their hand was starting to strain from holding the demolitionist up. Chance followed Taph up with his gaze. The demolitionist started to pantomime his response, given that the gambler has no knowledge of sign language. And hasn’t had the time to learn anything besides the required ones when in rounds. Taph pointed to himself before switching the hand into a thumbs up. Chance could see the slight shaking of his hand. He was clearly lying.

It is hard to tell with Taph. The lack of facial features leaves only body language. Which is also hard thanks to the oversized layers the demolitionist wears. Chance would say he’s good at spotting the tells of liars. Running a casino and all. But if Taph doesn’t want to spill, he’s not going to push.

“Perhaps we could play something else? Something less taxing.” Chance offers. But Taph only shakes his head. Walking off towards the chalk board. Gripping one of the table’s chairs while writing his new score. 313. The two counting darts had landed on 19 and 14.

Chance shrugs, pulling out his darts. “If you say so. I don’t want this to become treble -some for you.” They reply with a smirk. Facing the board, his best bet would be to get some points. The most he could get with one would be the triple 20.

He throws the dart. It flies through the air, aimed directly towards his goal. He’s got this in the bag. He prepares his next dart, only for his smirk to disappear. It just barely landed outside the 20 mark. Instead landing in the 1 column.

Chance groans before throwing the next two. Both landing within the triple ring. His goal was met with at least two darts. 121 points that round. Causing his score to drop to 302. He’s barely in the lead!

The rounds continue. Chance is so glad they didn’t create a bet against Taph. The next round the demolitionist got all three of his darts in the 20 column. The triple ring to be exact. Reducing his score by 180 points! From 313 to 133. They knew they lost from that round alone.

Chance still had 124 points when Taph made it all the way to 0. And here he thought the demolitionist was bad at the game. He always seemed to struggle against the admins! Does that mean the rest of the admins are that good? Or had Taph been holding back against them?

“That was a board -erline tough game.” The gambler places his hands behind his head, a smirk prominent on his face. “Up for something else?” Chance turns from their score board to where Taph was last. Only, the demolitionist wasn’t there anymore.

They whipped their heads around the dining and seating area in the back of the cabin. Taph wasn't there. So they looked towards the front door, spotting the demolitionist on his way out. “Hey!” Chance shouts, sprinting to catch up. “The night’s still young!”

Taph stops, facing Chance. The gambler can feel the intense gaze from the demolitionist from under the shadows covering his face. Chance stumbles over his words before stopping entirely to think it through.

They could play Dance Dance Revolution. The arcade machine is upstairs and not going anywhere anytime soon. But… perhaps playing DDR after a full day of running for your life is not the best thing to do. Then how about 8-Ball? It could work. Balance would also not be that big of an issue.

“How about one last game? Pool? 8-Ball? Billiards? However you call it. Let's rack up some fun!” Just a distraction. Anyway to help Taph not think about what happened. Anyway for him to not think about his parents, iTrapped, it.

Taph shakes his head. Taking a step backwards, towards the door. Chance clings to Taph. Taking the demolitionist’s hand in his. Stop thinking. Please stop thinking! You haven’t even had any drinks! Stop, stop, STOP!

“Come on, please. Just one more game. Anything! We can’t be letting those wingless blues get to you!” Chance’s smile grows wobbly. Trying to lighten the mood with another pun. Anyway to not show his weaknesses.

Except, his joke falls flat. No, worse than flat. Into a bottomless pit.

Taph stops moving entirely. Fists clenching.

Then, it finally registers. Oh… Oh no…

“I’m so sorry, Taph!” Chance snaps out of his daze. What came over him? That was so insensitive! He just wants to show that he’s here! That Taph can come to him whenever for a distraction! Not make fun of him! Not make it worse!

The demolitionist pulls his arm out of Chance’s grip at a sharp speed. Nearly falling backwards in the process. Chance looks up in guilt, pleading that Taph doesn’t leave him like his parents. They were having fun! Weren’t they?

He starts to watch as Taph turns as walks off. Speeding up after turning his back to them. He can’t- He can’t let it end like this!

Chance once more catches up with Taph. Grabbing hold of the demolitionist’s hand. He could see Taph visually flinch. He lessens the intensity of his grip, removing one hand entirely. Bringing it up to his sunglasses and taking them off his face.

“I’m sorry for making that joke.” He stares into the back of Taph’s hood. Sincerity interlaced into his voice. “It was insensitive of me. I just wanted to give you a distraction. Something to cheer you up, even for a short time. It… It worked for me.” He trails off for a moment. Grip lessening. “But! I just want to let you know that I’m here for you whenever!”

A tense silence settles between them. Chance guiltily watches as Taph’s shoulders start to shutter. He drops his hand from Taph’s wrist. Bringing it to hold the other temple of his sunglasses.

Taph turns around to face Chance. The gambler sees the light reflect against something on the demolitionist's face, sliding down his face. Tears. Oh…

The demolitionist started to move his hands in more rigid movements than usual. He… isn’t sure what most of them mean, but he does understand one of the words. “Time.” Chance nods. That must mean he needs time, right?

The gambler watches as Taph turns around. Whipping at his eyes as he opens the door. Disappearing behind them.

He messed up, didn’t he?

He just… wanted to show that he was here for Taph. Just like how iTrapped was when his parents died.

He inherited everything, most importantly the casino. He almost lost himself to gambling. Especially against the Sonnellinos. But iTrapped showed up. Was there for him. Helped him through it, even if he was manipulating him in the end.

Chance stared at the closed door. Arms slack, still holding onto his sunglasses. Eyes glazed with unshed tears that haven’t been released in far too long.

He sniffles before replacing his sunglasses on his face, covering his eyes.

He’s going to be more mindful of his jokes from now on.

…

Chance flips his coin one last time. Heads.

He should go to bed.

Chapter Text

He can not describe how much fun it is to see all his actors perform. Especially those who swing randomly in the air. Those fake generators are the best thing the higher power had thought of! Watching that noob and his old pal complete them only for them to reset. The epitome of humor! That noob would continue to complete it before running away screaming from nothing!

Oh how fun his first show was! It was such a pleasure meeting Seven again. And he gets to be a part of his latest show! What joy!

A white fog flows around him, accompanied by the old chimes of a grandfather clock. One reminiscent of his great grandfather’s. He should incorporate it into one of his future shows! It would be quite fun seeing how far he can drive his actors mad with the constant ringing.

Noli spawns into his own territory, the Tempest. Great. Now to get the job done. He readies his Voidstar. His. Empowering himself to launch at top speed. Flying through the red wall and into the center of the arena.

He could spot a few of his victims. Builderman and Shedletsky with that pizza man he used to mess with were on the upper corner fixing one of the generators. That guest that claims to be the last one was at the center with his Seven. The crazed one with the dagger was running to where he had just come from. The noob was with the hooded bird. The one that… looked different than the posters.

His Void Rush collides with the unsuspecting guest. Causing him to be thrown off the generator. Seven slammed the generator closed, preparing to run. He can’t let his Seven run from him for long. Not after everything he put him through.

“O-Oh Ven-Seven! -n-n!!! ” He calls out to his actor. Rushing directly into Seven. Knocking his wonderfully reactive player some ways back. “I-t’s gre- So grEAT to sEE y0-ou ag-in! B-B-But I-ai-I be must be go-ing no-OW!”

He turns around, pushing the Voidstar out in front of him. Launching himself like a rollercoaster up the stairs. Ramming himself into Builderman. He picks the shorter admin, and his newest actor, up before slamming him back down onto the ground. “N-NoT So-orgy! Ac-see-dent.” The Voidstar generates a metal pipe sound effect as it applies a Hatsune Miku voice changer over his own voice.

What whimsy it is to have the Voidstar in his hands. Especially when it comes back into his own hands after he tosses it towards the retreating pizza employee. He can’t have his actors run from him that quickly!

The Voidstar explodes upon contact with the ground, pulling the pizza man backwards. His Voidstar reforms in his grip. He runs forward, transforming the Voidstar, his Voidstar, into small, piercing Shadow Tendrils. Stabbing into his victim.

The pizza delivery man seemed to gain some extra speed. Annoying. That’s fine. Observant works in his favor. But first, there are some admins he needs to deal with.

Noli sends a glare towards the two of them. Shedletsky was helping Builderman off the ground. Hand on his sword, preparing to strike at any moment. He should think about this logically.

Screw it! Where’s the fun in logic? “Re-EmbR mE-E-eee ?” He shouts out as he runs forward. His actors are great at pretending to hit their attacks. Shedletsky is sure to miss once more! Just like how that gambler had their gun explode on himself during the first play. What great content! Had him laughing for hours after the performance ended.

However, all good plays must come with some kind of conflict for him to solve. Such as Shedletsky actually hitting his slash. A surprise for sure, a welcome one even. More fun is to be had!

“Come on Builder.” He hears Shedletsky mutter, continuing to support the CEO. The two of them follow the direction the pizza man went in. That's great! He can cut them off!

The ability of his Voidstar flows in front of his chest. His hands held it within its place without physically touching it. The effects of his Voidstar flows into him. He can see where every generator is on the map. By his calculations, the three of his victims would be near where he started. That higher platform with the broken pillars.

He starts to spin his hands around his Voidstar. Influencing the flow of code to transport him directly in front of the generator.

One moment he’s alone, beside one of the fake generators that spawns when he’s the killer. Next he’s in front of a real generator where he originally spawned. Unfortunately, his calculations were wrong with the two admins, but not for a few of the other victims.

The noob and bird were there. The noob let out a scream when the thunder strike marking his entrance resounded. They ran as soon as he arrived, abandoning the wingless bird. Said bird attempted to follow, only to trip and land on the ground.

Which was hilarious! A snicker makes it through his glitchy voicebox, filtered by the Voidstar. “L-l-Little bird-ie’s been c-aged for f-far too-ooo-oo long-g.” The bird starts to scramble on the floor, attempting to pick himself up.

He could have sworn he saw this actor before. Not in person, but on the news. Something about demolitions…? Right? Not very stage appropriate. But, didn’t he have wings…?

That's right. He had two pairs. One on his head and the other on his back. But the back wings seem to be gone. Eh, he could care less. He’s still going to be his victim. One way or another.

Noli swipes at the demolitionist. Damaging and making him squirm more. This isn’t entertaining. His Voidstar is sure to make it more fun .

The birdie eventually makes it to his feet. Starting to run away with perfect posture. Or as perfect as one can when limping and holding the other arm. Almost like he’s healed! What joy and whimsy! This is going to be so much fun when he realizes.

The half rotting man chases after the birdie from a distance. Close enough that he could kill them at any moment, but far enough that the birdie will think he’s out of range. Noli can see the bumps on the bird’s back start to move involuntarily.

The hooded bird seemed to slow down, looking off to the side. Mainly, towards him, but not exactly seeing him. A grin forms on Noli’s face.

Birdie watches in astonishment. His head wings flap multiple times. The bird reaches out to the empty air. Almost like it could see whatever wings they had before. Oh the drama that’s being created is juicy!

His hand must have phased through it or the hallucination fades, as the bird’s hand pauses mid air. Slowly lowering to his side. His head wings lower down as well. Shoulders slouching. Oh how fun! He’s realized!

Noli openly laughs. “He-HE HAHAHA! Y-YOu sho-ld ha-’ve see-en you’RE fay-ce! They a-are GonE! For-evR! W1ng-le-ess bird-ies cou-uld nev-ver fl-ie.” He holds his Voidstar out, energy flowing into his body. All for it to release in a burst of speed, right towards the still and tearful birdie.

The Void Rush connects. He picks the hooded bird up before throwing him into the floor. He laughs once more, lifting his leg above the unmoving birdie’s back. A giggle surfacing at the helpless actor below him. “WHAT TH- F-uh -BOOOOO-O-OO-O-O-M!” His voice distorts, glitches present due to the Voidstar.

His foot lands directly onto the demolitionist’s back. A crunch resounding around the quiet area. The sound of thunder accompanies the silence after. One down. Seven more to go.

He turns towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The pizzeria employee. He stops in his tracks, staring at the corpse below Noli’s foot. The rotten man reels back his Voidstar before throwing it.

It connects with the minimum wage employee once again. The show’s just begun! And his actors must run! A glitchy giggle forms in his throat. Growing louder as he runs after the pizza man. The show must go on!

Chapter Text

Okay. Okay! You got this. You can be helpful. You are not that useless. Just… Do your job. The job that you’re good at! The… only job I’m good at… But! It’s the one that helps everyone! The only job I can do! The… only one I can… do… They will still yell at me…

I… really am useless…

They slow to a meander. The sounds of chaos come from the white walls on the opposite side of the map. The small window near a completed generator – that he had completed at the start of the round – showed blurs of colors passing by it. He should have put contacts in…

A yellow and blue blur ran through it, followed by a black and green one. He’s so glad he finished the two generators over there already. Now, onto finding the last one.

The small, maze-like structure in the corner of the map doesn’t have one. It never has one. Coming from there, the generator in front of the rocks isn’t there. Neither is the one in the middle underneath the pillar with the jail cell on top. Which is a surprise. That one is almost always in the rounds due to how open it is.

The glass house didn’t have one. But the two at the bigger mountain were there. The one near the side entrance, underneath the glass bridge, had been completed by him, Noob, and Chance. While the one inside was already completed by the time he got to it. All that is left is one.

It has to be near the smaller mountain. It could be considered a hill when compared to the other one. Then again, this map is set quite high up. So maybe it is a mountain. His kid would argue that it’s a hill.

He checks the dark corner first. It’s on the ground floor of the map, it has much more escape opportunities than being up high. Though, with the killer this round, perhaps being up high would be better…

Nevertheless, it’s not down here. So only one place remains. Up the mountain.

He hides around the corner of the mountain, not quite going up the staircase, ramp, whatever it is, yet. C00lkidd would have called it a Stramp. He always found fun ways to combine words. Keeping an eye out for the killer before going up. He could always use a clone, but what if he needs to use it later when it’s on cooldown? But maybe he should use it to go up unnoticed? But if he did that, then he would reveal his location once they notice it’s a clone! It could also help take the heat off the survivor who’s being chased. But when has the killer actively switched to him when the survivor is low? But-

“YIPES!” He jumps out of the way of a giant green sword flying past him. Nearly grazing his cheek. He presses his back against the brown rocks, chest heaving rapidly. Clone it is!

007n7 looks around the corner once more. Spotting the killer, in all their blurry green and black glory, in front of the entrance to the interior of the mountain. A white, yellow, and brown blur was in front of them. If he didn’t know better, he could vaguely make out some larger brown appendages – with a yellow hue near the bottom – coming from the white blob.

The hacker pulls out his C00lgui. Pressing into one of the few buttons he had access too. His hand disappears the next moment. A very vague outline of his body could be seen. All while a fully opaque replica of himself starts to run towards the blurs.

It is almost an exact replica. The same blue button up, figure, burger hat and noob head, and brown hair. Similarly, it’s missing his pink rimmed glasses. The only differences would be how it moves. Just like a computer program. Moving along one of the gridded axes, the limbs only rotate, masking the illusion that he is walking. Before it eventually starts to bend its limbs. Slowly shifting into how he normally moves. The other differing factor is how dead the eyes are. Absolutely no soul is behind it.

007n7 turns the corner after his clone leaves. He reveals himself in the middle of the stramp. Luckily, he is concealed by the other wall, blocking visuals to him, as well as his to the killer’s.

Reaching the top of the mountain, he spots it. A red blur amongst the orange and white backdrop. Right by the opening in the smaller half walls, is the last generator. No green glow comes from the progress bar’s general location. No one must have gotten to this one yet. He’s got a job to do. The only one he can do. Only when… Only when the killer isn’t… C00lkidd.

007n7 shakes his head. Starting to move his feet once more. Come on Seven! Get your head into the game! He hits the side of his head with the inside of his fist.

Though… this isn’t really good to correlate whatever they are all experiencing as a ‘game.’ Those are meant to be fun! They were fun with C00lkidd… before all of this. Having to run for your life multiple times a day is not that!

The only time he’s willing to call it a game is for C00lkidd. He… He can’t have his son realize what he’s doing… Whoever has trapped them here messed with his kid’s head. But… at least he doesn’t know he’s killing everyone. In some, weird, twisted, and messed up way.

What’s going to happen when they all get out?

007n7 grips two wires in his hands. He really needs to stop overthinking! It’s unhealthy! But, he just can’t! There’s so much to question! It’s overwhelming. 

He wants it all to go back to the way it was. Just him, his kid, and the 3 jobs he had to keep them afloat.

He’s completed one of the generator’s puzzles. Somehow… How he’s able to complete tasks while being stuck in his head is beyond him. Maybe it’s this place that’s doing it to him. The repetitive nature of the place just allows him to act on autopilot.

He really needs to get back on track!

007n7 connected the two wires still in his hands. The insulation covering the wires was slightly crushed. But they still worked, provided by the green bar that rose to the halfway mark.

With his mind finally back to the present, he can focus more on the wires. He probably would have been done by now. He hopes everyone can hold 1x1x1x1 off without dying.

A sound stops him in the middle of completing the third panel. One that didn’t originate from the generator or himself. A sniffle.

It sounded like it was coming from behind him. Trying to remain as quiet as possible. But failing in doing so, as more continued to resonate.

Seven’s tension rose substantially. He isn’t sure who was here. SFOTH, it could be 1x! They never tried to be quiet before, but maybe it was a new strategy of theirs? He really hopes not. Then they would all have to plan around this. Which meant long and boring discussions with the team. In which he wouldn’t contribute anything as no one asked for his input. It would just be better if he was never in them. He provided nothing during them. Other than making everyone uncomfortable.

Another sound broke him out of his overflowing thoughts. And he recognized that sound immediately. A sob. Why else would he not know it? Kidd used to have so many temper tantrums!

There’s no way it’s 1x. No one’s heard them cry. Ever. So who could it be?

Definitely a survivor, but who?

Still on his guard, though it wasn’t as high, 7n7 finally turned around. It was hard to see, with the darkness of the map, but he could see the outline of a figure.

Curled up against the short tree, there was another survivor. One who blended in with the shadows. The only defining trait being the golden highlights.

Oh Voidstar, it’s Taph.

What’s Taph doing here? He’s typically out there placing traps in looping spots! Yet, there haven't been any traps during this round. At least, none that he has run across.

Now that he thinks about it… He actually hasn’t seen Taph anytime 1x has been the killer. Not after… losing his wings. Even when the demolitionist gets out of the round alive, he barely sees the other during it. The only times are when he’s being chased with others around, namely the sentinels.

So what’s Taph doing all the way up here? Alone… Curled up into a ball… Crying…

Oh.

Oh…

007n7 approaches the shaking demolitionist slowly. Abandoning the generator behind him. Moving in a practiced manner only a parent would have. He’s been through this a lot with Kidd.

“H-Hey, Taph…?” He speaks up from afar. Keeping his voice low. Although, he sees the Demolitionist flinch and curl further into himself.

He doesn’t want to be too loud. Especially not with Taph in this state. Not to mention 1x could possibly overhear. So 007n7 kneels down from where he currently stands. Resting on both of his legs.

”They aren’t here.” He whispers in a quieter voice. He’s glad that he didn’t finish the generator now. Or else he wouldn’t be heard over it. “I’m… sorry this has happened to you…”

007n7 watches as Taph shifts slightly. Still shaking like a leaf and trying to hold in sobs, but isn’t hugging himself as tightly. The hacker scoots closer to the demolitionist’s form. Making sure to take his time and not rush it. Always led to disastrous results with C00lkidd.

“We are… alike in many ways. I know this isn’t what you want to hear…” Seven nervously laughs as he sees Taph shift his head slightly. Just enough for his hood to reveal his face. Even if it’s featureless due to the shadows, 7n7 can still feel the glare coming from the demolitionist. “But! We are both outcasts.”

007n7 starts to fidget with his hands. Still making slow progress towards Taph. “Not valued as highly as everyone else on the team, left out of activities due to one reason or another, stuck with your own thoughts more often than not.” He lists out.

“But… our experiences are different. You have people who do care about you.” 007 can feel his eyes water. A somber smile coming onto his face. “People who would willingly fight for you. Who go out of their way to check in on you. You are so lucky to have those people.”

Great. Now he’s crying too. He shouldn’t even be crying! He doesn’t have it nearly as rough as Taph does!

He deserves what’s come to him. Karma for all the actions of his past. From hacking and exploiting, burning Builder Brother’s Pizza down so many times, to sending Noli out to get the Voidstar. He deserves all the hated stares from everyone. The lack of heals from Elliot. Being stuck here.

Kidd doesn’t deserve this. He’s just 10 years old! He’s still a growing boy! He doesn’t deserve to be in this situation. Unknowingly killing people, getting shot or stabbed, being stuck here. He should be happy. Living his life out of here. And yet, here he is. Suffering the same unfortunate fate he’s been subjected to.

But Taph? He doesn’t deserve this. 7n7’s heard about all the protests going on before getting stuck here. How some demolitionists working for Roblox HQ had been killed. How they were all being hunted for sport.

Not to mention losing his wings. The hacker will never be able to understand. Both the reason why and relating to this. He’s never had to lose something that made him, him.

He stopped using the C00lgui, sure. But he never lost or got rid of it. He’s always had it, even turning it into a way to remind him of stuff. Events, job times, and even the grocery list. It was always with him, even though he doesn’t use it for the intended purposes anymore.

But with Taph? He lost his wings. A part of his person he will never get back. It’s not something replaceable or something he can pull back out after a long time. They are permanently gone. And that’s something 007n7 can’t relate to.

The closest thing was losing C00lkidd. But… that didn’t last long. After all, the both of them are stuck here for all eternity. Together, but on opposite sides.

007n7 wraps his arm around Taph’s shoulders, bringing the demolitionist into an awkward, yet warm, side hug. Seven doesn’t remember getting this close to the other. He really needs to get out of his head more.

Taph tensed under his light hold. He doesn’t want to be overpowering. His son always hated touch when overwhelmed. Especially from other people besides him. So he left his hold to be easily broken out of.

The demolitionist started to shake again, hiccups starting up. 007 was about to let go, but Taph didn’t let him. The trapper launched into his chest. Face firmly emplanted, leaving 7n7’s shirt to grow wet.

Arms wrapped around him in a desperate plea for him to stay. Taph’s smaller head wings pressed into his sides. Despite the more quiet and reserved nature, the demolitionist sobbed loudly against him. Only muffled thanks to Taph pushing his head further against Seven’s chest.

007n7 was frozen for a moment. Hands raised in the air. He didn’t expect this. He fully planned on giving Taph more space. But… the demolitionist seemed like he needed this.

With both a sniffle and a faint smile, 7n7 reciprocates the hug the best he could. Bringing Taph into a soft hold. One strong enough to reciprocate, yet light enough that he wasn’t harming the demolitionist further. The trained ability of a father.

He can’t help but be reminded of C00lkidd, causing his hold to grow stronger for a moment. His tears flowing at a stronger rate. He shouldn’t be crying, he should be stronger. He was is a dad for Robloxia’s sake!

But… he can’t stop. His breathing is fixed, only a few hiccups and sobs make it out. He’s always been a silent crier. Even before being a parent. But especially now. Compartmentalizing all his emotions inside, not bothering anyone further than needed.

007n7’s finally letting it all out. All his pent up emotions. In the small corner of Glass Houses with another member of the team that needs this just as badly.

Taph is just like C00lkidd. Both destructive in nature, but a kind and caring soul hidden underneath. Taph is quiet and reserved while Kidd is energetic and outgoing. But both work so hard to live up to the people they admire. Builderman and himself. Taph reminds him so much of C00lkidd. Especially that one time after coming home from school.

C00lkidd has just gotten home from the bus. He would always want a hug after school, it had become their tradition. But that day was different.

Kidd came running into his arms with tears rolling down his face. He said that some of his classmates were bullying him because of his unnatural skin color. If it was before, he would have unanchored their houses and set them on fire with his C00lgui. But he’s not a hacker anymore.

So he pulled C00lkidd into a hug. Softly singing a lullaby. It helped to calm his son, eventually putting him to sleep.

Unconsciously, 007n7 started to do the same. Humming the same soothing lullaby for Taph. Even when stuck in his memories, he still cared for the present. Rubbing circles into the demolitionist’s back as he sang though his own tears.

He slowed his hand to stop in the middle of his son’s Taph’s back. Instead tapping his fingers to the quiet rhythm trapped inside his own head. Periodically going through all of his fingers before repeating.

He himself was getting slightly sleepy. The constant stress he is put under in this place fleeing his system. He can’t escape the stress outside the rounds. So having this moment is calming. Refreshing even.

007n7 hums the final notes of the lullaby, tapping along to the rhythm. He finishes with a yawn. Finally breaking out of the past and into the present. No longer holding his son, but instead Taph. He wakes up slightly from the realization. He really needs to stop being trapped in his head so often!

Seven notices that his button up shirt isn’t getting wetter anymore. Not to mention Taph’s hold isn’t nearly as strong as it was before.

He finally pays attention to the present. Really living in it instead of the distant past or his own mind.

Taph has fallen asleep in his hold. Laying limp, yet breathing at a rhythmic pace. His head wings have lowered themselves too. Resting contently at the side of his head.

7n7 can’t help but give a soft smile. Wiping his tear-stained face dry. He keeps his hold on C00lkidd Taph as he sleeps. The unfinished generator left forgotten as he starts humming a gentle beat once more.

His eyes close, and remain like that for the rest of the round. Simply sitting amongst the shadows. Singing a quiet song for the one in his arms. Hugging them, keeping them safe as they rest.

He feels the world around him shift. No longer having a weight pressed against him. The slight feeling of nausea that was only possible due to a teleport prompted by the end of a round.

007n7 opens his eyes finally. Now faced with the rest of the survivors who made it out of the round. There were few of them; Him, Taph, Shedletsky, Elliot, and Chance.

“We made it!” Shedletsky cheers from the opposite side of the table. His own head wings flapping. He rested his hands behind his own head.

“Thanks to me.” Elliot stood up from his stop next to the hacker. Already moving to get as far away from 007n7 as possible. And he understands why.

Chance shot up onto his feet on the opposite side of 7n7. “Ell, wait!” He scrambled around 007’s chair and towards the aforementioned worker. “Wanna hit up the slots?” He leaned against the wall of the wooden cabin, his normal grin plastered on his face.

Elliot scrunched up his eyebrows. “Ehhh…” He drew out the noise. Starting to look for anything else around the room to change the subject. Eventually landing on Taph. Who happened to still be asleep across from 007n7’s seat.

His face was planted against the wood of the table. Feathers resting against the same surface. “Taph…?” The pizzeria worker quietly asked, bringing attention to the demolitionist.

Taph didn’t stir, remaining limp against the table while remaining in his seat. “He’s asleep.” 007n7 speaks up. Causing everyone to look at him. He flinches at the sudden attention, stumbling as he replies. “N-Not th-that he’s dead! I was w-with him at the end o-of the round! We were n-no where close to 1x!”

“So who’s going to take him to his cabin?” Chance speaks up. 7n7 relaxes as the attention is brought off him. Sinking into the seat slightly. “I don’t think I should, not after…” The gambler didn’t actually finish what he was going to say. Leaving it open.

“I will.” Seven pipes up again. Once more flinching at the attention as it’s drawn to him. 007 pushes himself off of his seat and walks around to Taph and Shedletsky’s side.

“Uh, no?” Elliot interrupts bewildered. “Why would we entrust him with you?” He accuses while attempting to stand in between the two outcasts.

007n7 walks right past, stopping behind Taph’s chair. He lifts the sleeping support into his arms. One behind his back and the other under his legs. Resting Taph’s head against his shoulder.

The ex-exploiter starts to walk off, heading out of the cabin. That was, until Elliot stepped in his way before he could reach the living room. “There’s no way you are going. I’ll take him.” The pizza delivery man places his hands on his hips. An annoyed glare headed straight for 007n7.

Seven returns with a glare of his own. He’s sick and tired of this right now. He’s taking his son Taph to his own cabin now. He’s not going to let Elliot push him around if it means someone’s health is at stake.

The pizza man seemed surprised at 7n7’s response. The hacker pushed into Elliot’s shoulder with his own. Continuing on this way outside and towards the personalized cabins.

He’s the reason why Taph’s asleep right now. It should be his responsibility to bring the demolitionist to his own bed. Just like how C00lkidd was his responsibility.

He can’t help it that his face shifted into one of a proud smile. He actually stood up against Elliot for once. He knows that he’s going to regret this later, he always does. But he’s going to ride the high for as long as possible.

He looks down at the person in his arms once more. His smile became more soft. Taph really reminds him of C00lkidd. Just heavier. A lot heavier.

Chapter Text

This… isn’t the greatest.

He’s currently trapped inside the central most room in Horror Hotel, the kitchen. Being chased by the most corrupted killer amongst the current roster, John Doe. His exits are blocked off by his assailant’s Digital Footprints, lay dormant at two of the exits. One to the navy blue well room and the other is stationed in the entranceway to the bigger playroom. The place he had just come from.

The exit to the hallway is far too open, leading to him possibly being ambushed by John’s spikes. While he does have the opportunity to exit into the outside portion of the map, strategically, it’s not the best option. He leaves himself vulnerable to the spikes, but also his distance from the killer.

So to counteract this from happening, he’s been left to looping around the kitchen’s table. The generator left inside this room has been left uncompleted. It doesn’t seem like Citizen 007n7 or Citizen Noob had been able to make it inside here quite yet.

Guest 1337 continues to run laps around the central table. Out running John Doe as the corrupted robloxian keeps swinging his claws into the empty air. The veteran had come from the playroom earlier. Dragging the enemy combatant from his brother in arms, Admin Dusekkar.

His military training comes in handy in these moments. While his stamina seems to match the others, his perseverance to the chase is enough for him. Working through obstacles just to keep everyone safe. There isn’t anything else he could ask for.

He’s here to make sure they all survive. No matter what.

Guest 1337 slowed down when he saw that his opposition had as well. Conserving and regenerating his low stamina. He can keep this up. He has kept this up in the past. It’s not any different from back then.

If he continues running around the table, he could wear John Doe down further. But that will only lead to his assailant switching targets once one of his allies passes by. He needs to be prepared for that outcome.

He is the proud owner of one stack for his punch. Gaining it from when he protected Admin Dusekkar. He could use that before making a break for it outdoors. Looping around this area will only lead to disaster for the others. Not to mention the unfinished generator still abandoned in the room.

Before he could truly come up with a strategy, John Doe crouches down, implanting his spiked hand into the ground. The move every one of the survivors dread. Corrupt Energy.

Guest runs to the right, before swiftly changing to the opposite direction. The spikes form from the ground in a continuous line, progressively growing closer to his general location. It first follows where he was moving, heading straight for the exit towards the hallway. Before the wave follows his path. Barely missing him, but extends further until it blocks off some of his previously viable options.

The spikes end outside, passing through the wall leading out there. His looping spot has been compromised. If he continues, he will leave himself cornered and vulnerable. With this certain opponent, his stuns seem to be recoverable in a faster period of time than normal.

Before John Doe fully recovers from his attack and starts chasing him, Guest 1337 books it. Heading straight for the outdoors portion of the map.

He had plenty of options on where to go from there. Back inside to the theatre room, or maybe the gift shop hallway. Round the killer back around to the playroom. Give the survivalists some time to complete this generator until returning back to the kitchen. The Digital Footprints should also have dissipated by then.

He can hear the thudding of footsteps approaching him from behind. He’s going to have to choose soon. Or else he’s going to get caught up in close combat. If only he could kick. He tried before, but that being that his holding them captive restricted his abilities to only his hands.

Guest barely passes through the border to the outside, the killer hot on his tail. The flash of pink glows bright to the left of him. He doesn’t have time to process what it was before-

BOOM!

The soldier is left disoriented. Stumbling to the floor from the blast. His vision is left blurry, seeing two- no three of everything around him. His ears are ringing so loud. Too loud. Too notable.

No. Not again.

His twisting vision is replaced with the deep yellows of the desert. His ears are muffled, the sound of stray gunshots left deafened. He felt hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

He can’t- He’s not-…

His breathing picks up. His mouth feels as dry as where he is. His hands come up to his neck. Gripping it lightly.

He brings one hand down to his chest. His rapidly beating heart and lifting chest. Not again.

He can’t focus on anything. It’s all blurry and muffled. He swears he can hear a voice next to him. One familiar. So familiar. He thought he would never hear it again. He died.

He died.

He di-

BANG!

The last Guest turned around in an instant. The desert landscape behind him revealed two figures. Both blurry, but he can barely make them out.

One held a gun. He was wearing the same military garb as him, but he had brown hair- no… They wore a gray suit and gray fedora. Someone was kneeled on the floor, yellow skin and black markings on their body.

Right… Right.

He’s not there anymore.

“Guest! Start moving!” The gray- coyote brown- no gray figure called out. The voice originating from his ally. It faded between two voices. Matt… and then Chance.

“Y-yeah uh… yeah.” Guest 1337 starts mumbling before sprinting behind one of the brick walls.

He hears a roar come from behind him. Heavy footsteps being led away from his location.

The veteran slowly slides down the wall. Ending up sitting down with his knees up. Hand running though his blue hair. His breathing is slowing down now, taking heavier and heavier breaths. He’s not there anymore. He’s not at war. He’s not in the desert.

He can still see the deserted landscape every few blinks. But it slowly grows distant. Replaced with the night sky, red brick walls, and green grass.

He’s safe. For now.

But… the others aren’t.

He needs to get back out there.

Guest picks himself off of the ground. A soldier’s duty is never finished. He brushes off the invisible dirt and sand particles off his military uniform before setting back out. Hopefully he can find Civilian Elliot or Admin Builderman. Civilian Chance could potentially hold off the killer for some time. Enough for him to heal up and prepare.

He doesn’t make it far until he hears a new noise. It sounded like someone kicking the ground. Along with some grunts of pain. Is someone in trouble? Is John Doe around? He needs to help if so!

Guest 1337 rushes in the direction of the sound. It wasn’t that far, just around the corner behind another wall. But what was there, it wasn’t what he expected.

He fully expected to get into another brawl. Stunning the killer and stealing his attention. But, instead he found a survivor. One he hasn’t had much interactions with. Not since…

Civilian Taph was facing away from him. Reeling his foot back before kicking it into the dirt. Throwing up chunks of the ground towards the closest hallway’s flooring. Right next to the arms coming up from under the floorboards. The demolitionist also had his arms up to his head. Hands gripping onto his last remaining pair of wings. Pulling them downwards with such force repeatedly.

Guest wasn’t sure how to approach this. He wasn’t prepared for this. Perhaps he could find Admin Dusekkar, Admin Builderman, Admin Shedletsky, or Civilian Elliot for this? But… Admin Shedletsky isn’t in this round and he doesn’t know where the other three are.

He watches as Taph wobbles more as he kicks the ground, pulling at his head wings. The ground below, despite the low visibility, was starting to stain with the demolitionist’s tears. He has to do something! He can’t just leave his teammate like this!

Before he could act, the trapper loses his balance. Having brought his leg up to once more abuse the ground, only for the other one to be unable to withstand the weight change. Taph tumbles to the floor.

Taph curls up into a ball, still pulling at his head wings. Guest could hear muffled sobs coming from the demolitionist’s mouth, trapped behind the mask he always wears. The soldier slowly approaches the trapper’s location. Moving around some walls to get in front of Taph.

The demolitionist was worse up close. Tears free flowing from his eyes. Some break off the pre-formed tracks and onto the grass, while the rest get absorbed into the mask. His eyes are shut tight, continuing to pull on his head wings. His entire body was shaking so violently, just as bad as he had seen some of his fellow soldiers do while in service.

Guest 1337 carefully approaches Taph, leaving some space between them. He kneels down on the ground. “Taph?” He asks in a slow and soft tone. One he reserved for his civilian life. For Charlotte and Daisy.

He could see Taph violently flinch. The demolitionist opens his eyes in an instant, removing his hands from his wings. He starts to shake more. Moving his limbs in a hurried, yet clumsy, manner, crawling away from him.

Guest lets him.

Taph backs up against a wall. His shutters grow worse. One hand returns to grip his wings in a death grip while the other continuously circles his chest in a fist. “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry-”

The guest shifts his location. Keeping the distance created, he sits against the opposite wall from Taph. The demolitionist once more flinches at his movement and stops signing. Instead moving back to pulling at both of his head wings.

He should know what to do here. He has a kid. He should know! But… he can’t help but feel useless as he watches Taph repeatedly harm himself. He’s equipped for physical combat, not emotional.

The silence between them stretches on. Only broken up by the demolitionist’s sobs and the shuffling of feathers. As well as Guest’s own breathing, still slightly heaving from the earlier scare.

Is that why Taph’s reacting this way? He… is the only one with bombs… Oh. He’s blaming himself for harming me… That's admirable. But this is not the way to make it up to him.

“Hey,” Guest speaks up quietly, once more calling upon his experiences before his deployment. Taph flinches at the sudden noise, even if it was soft. He slows down pulling his wings. Slightly lifting his head, likely to see the soldier.

“You’ve been pretty brave since you got here.” The guest smiles, looking next to Taph’s head. Not explicitly looking at the demolitionist, but still has them within his sights. “Being in a new place after everything, surrounded by people you know and don’t is hard. It can be scary. But, you have been handling it great.”

He remembers when he first arrived. He knew no one. Only ever seeing Admin Builderman and Admin Shedletsky online. Never in person, and never personally. They had come after him, but Admin Shedletsky was first. He’s been told to lighten up many times by Civilian Chance. To refer to everyone by just their names, without titles. But… it’s hard when the military has conditioned him to constantly refer to others by their jobs, roles, or rank.

Sure, he’s gotten used to “toning” down his military habits. Catching himself saying “admin” or “civilian” to his allies. Growing closer to Civilian 007n7 and Civilian Chance. Accepting his place in protecting everyone here.

But, it’s hard to think back to everything before he arrived here. His family definitely miss him. He’s missing out on Charlotte growing up, all her milestones! Matt’s funeral. The end of the war.

He has to remain strong. Strong for everyone here. He will lay down his life to make sure they survive these killers. He will do anything for them to stay healthy. And if that means sitting down and helping someone through their emotions in a round, so be it.

“One mistake isn’t going to matter in the long run.” Guest 1337 continues. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s how we act afterwards that matters.”

The military veteran shifts his posture a little bit. Forming a break in the one-sided conversation. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Some leading to… someone close to me dying.” Guest trials off. He wishes Matt survived the war. If they had never joined the army, both of them wouldn’t be where they are now. One 6 feet under and the other trapped in an eternal hell.

“But we learn from them. That’s the best choice there is. There is no learning without trial and error. If we did everything right the first time, there would be nothing to learn from.” The veteran once more smiles. A bitter one, eyes glossy, but he pushes through. “Then we avoid repeating them.”

“That bomb placement was good, great even. The unfortunate timing of its- explosion… was what caused the mistake. Which wasn’t one in the first place.” Guest clarifies. “You have nothing to do with when the bomb exploded. It reached its timer and I was unfortunately caught in the blast. You didn’t purposely do it. Showing humility and guilt shows that.”

Guest finally looks directly towards Taph. The demolitionist had stopped pulling on his head wings, instead hugging his knees. The shaking has stopped as well. The tears on the other hand? They haven’t. They’ve only gotten worse. But he spots a small nod coming from the trapper.

He wordlessly holds out his hands. Giving a silent invitation for a hug. It’s the least he can do for the other. It’s been so long since he’s had physical contact as well. Positive, of course. While he got pats on the shoulders and praise, they aren’t like a hug. One that he feels Taph needs more than him.

It doesn’t take more than a second before Taph launches himself into Guest’s arms. Burying his head into the soldier’s shoulder. A tight grip forming from the demolitionist, like this was all going to fade away at any moment. Guest 1337 returns the hug in ernest. Giving the trapper a strong, reinforced hold.

“You are doing great right now.” He whispers into the ears of the demolitionist in his arms. “We all understand that this is a rough patch you’re going through. And we all will be there to help you through it.”

He can feel his shoulder get wetter by the second. Taph’s breathing is ragged and sobs racked through his body. Guest keeps his hold on Taph. Not willing to let him go until he’s ready. This is the closest he can get to helping his own daughter through her emotions. While he doesn’t see Taph as his own kid, more of a fellow soldier, he knows this is a much more personal moment. Professionalism is unwelcomed.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll be here. No one can be brave in a moment's notice.” Guest can feel Taph shift slightly. “Not even me.” He chuckles for a moment. “I’m scared for all your well beings. Physical and emotional.”

The two remain in the hold for a while. No killers or other survivors approach them. Guest trusts everyone to remain safe, just for this round. As he is here for Taph for this one. Whispering reassurances to the demolitionist. Providing comfort in an otherwise torturous world.

Taph’s brave. Taph’s strong. He will make it through this. He just needs time.

Chapter Text

He sat alone in his room. Time doesn’t matter. It never did. He’s alone.

He sat on something soft. He uses it to sleep on. He can’t quite remember its name, but everyone has one. He knows the small red person does. They are loud.

Something is in his hand. He’s been staring at the flimsy object. It could easily break. He holds it carefully. Tenderly. It’s important. He doesn’t remember why, but it is.

There's a figure on it. Yellow, just like him. They also had pink on them. Near the top of the fragile surface.

H̵͎͐è̴̲ ̷͔͝f̷͚̔e̶͕̊e̸̛̗l̸̪̈ṣ̴̎ ̷͈̑ḻ̶͝i̶̗̋k̵̡̒e̶͈̒ ̸͍͐h̶͓͝e̷̮̾ ̶͇͊k̵͈͗n̶͉͌o̵̥͌w̴̛͇ṡ̴͚ ̶͔̾t̶̩͝h̴͔̾ḙ̶͘ṁ̷̢.̴͆ͅ ̸̯͝Ḷ̸̃i̶̱̿k̷̝̈́e̴̡̔ ̶̙́ṱ̴͒h̷͎͋é̵̠ý̸͔ ̵̳̑m̶͚͆e̷͙̊â̵͜n̷̻͊ ̷̖̚s̴͍̅o̵̟͂m̶̥̆e̶͕͝t̶̮̕h̸͙̄ǐ̶̭n̶̢͝g̷͉̀ ̸̤͋t̷̡̃o̸̞̾ ̵̲́ḧ̸͖́i̸͚͆m̵̨̒.̸͍͂ ̵͙́T̶͉̈́ȟ̸̹e̴̬̿y̴̖͝ ̴͈̏a̷͍̓r̶͈̎ě̵̤ ̸̧̌ì̷̢m̶̺̐p̶̬̈́o̸̥͊r̴͚͝t̴̛͜â̴̡n̴̥̕t̸̳͛ ̴̘́t̴̘͛ȯ̴̧ ̵̲̿h̵͉́ï̷͇m̴̗͘.̴͇͒

His vision floods red. Everything is red. A growl erupts out of his chest. Pain erupts from it as well.

The object drops from his vulnerable grip. Floating to the ground slowly. While his hand pulls at his yellow shirt. Breathing growing strained.

Then everything goes back to its normal coloration. Pain gone in an instant. But, his head feels foggier.

W̷͍̐h̵̲̓a̴̛̻t̷̝͛'̶͈̎s̴̾͜ ̴̤̆w̸͓͠r̶̢̎o̷̥̅n̵̪̏g̷̩͝ ̶̯͝ẉ̵͛i̷̱͐t̵̫͠ĥ̷͇ ̶̫̾h̵̲͛i̶͙͐m̸̦̈́?̵͙͝

A white, cloud-like substance starts to fill the place he’s in. Loud dings accompany the white. Slowly filling the place.

When the area is completely white, only then does it fade.

Replacing where he was at, was a dark landscape. Rock-like formations coming out of the ground, forming a sort of roof in front of him.

There are those flimsy and thin objects attached to the wall close to him. Multiple, at that. All with the same face on them.

He growls. T̵̝̊h̷̘̾e̴͕̽y̸̯̌ ̵̤̏a̷̦̋r̴͎̋é̷͖n̷̦͌'̵͓͂t̴̡̂ ̷̭̂ḫ̵͐ę̸̀r̶̦͑.̴̹̕ He looks away and leaves. Roaming down the ramp and under cover. Down below, he spots moving objects.

P̶̗̎r̸̘̊ȇ̷̬y̷̦͋.̸̓ͅ

He stomps onto the ground. A collection of corrupted code form below him. Creating a trap. Before running off towards all of the mobile beings.

He notices two of them just barely leaving his eyesight. On the side that he can’t see well. The same one with his spike.

They broke away from the rest of the group. The ones at the broken down building on the opposite side. F̵̠̑r̷̟̐ë̴͚́ŝ̴͍ḧ̸̖́ ̶͖͗p̵͙̚ḭ̵̿c̴̨̋k̸̡̊ì̵͈n̶͔̚ġ̸̫ș̴̓.̵̮̌

His attention stays on them. The two of them move past the bigger building, up the ramp. Right towards the random walls and open area.

One of them was blue. T̶̗̈́h̷͈̕e̶̬̽y̸̩͌ ̸̟̇f̸̦̏ẽ̴̞e̷̜̅l̴̰̒ ̶̣͂f̸̰̿ä̸̭m̶̬͝i̶͙̍l̶̛̻i̴̦͑ȧ̴̼r̵̲͘.̶̭͊ Blue up top and white below. A growl is pulled out of them as pain flashes through him once more.

The other one was new. He hadn’t seen one like them before. All black. Faint yellow lines. They are wobbling. Tripping. Ẹ̸͝a̴̛̮s̸̜̆y̸͔͗.̶̘̋

The blue one helps them keep steady. A̷̮͆ ̵̡̅ṃ̴͗ĩ̸̪s̷̤̔t̵̖̿a̶͕͐k̷̫̆è̸̢.̴̝͒

He implants his spiked arm into the ground. Summoning all his energy and code into the ground. Pushing it all into the form of spikes. Rushing forward at great speed.

The pillars of corrupted code, just like him, separate the two people. Splitting them up and dealing damage. A rush of adrenaline enters his circuits. With the added speed boost, he runs after the new s̸͈̑u̸̾ͅr̴̜̃v̸̗͠i̶̪̇v̷̜̀ö̵̪́r̵̡̾.̷͓̊

“ȶǟքɦ! ȶɦʏ քʟɛǟɖֆ ʄօʀ ȶɦɛɛ ȶօ ʍǟӄɛ ɨȶ ǟʀօʊռɖ ȶօ ȶɦɛ ʀǟռɢɛ օʄ ȶɦʏ ֆȶǟʄʄ!” The filtered words reach his ears. Muffled, yet still understandable. It’s coming from the blue one.

The new one starts to run away from him. Towards the edge of the spikes. T̵̞̿ḥ̵̕e̸͇͘y̵͉̐ ̶͙̑ẃ̷̞o̸̲͋n̵̰̄'̸̤͝t̵͙̽ ̶̳͑m̷̦̐a̵̡̐k̸̼͊ë̸͔́ ̴̖̒i̸̟̋t̴̹͗ ̴̧̓ō̸̧u̸̦͝t̶̆͜ ̸̰̅a̸̮͛l̶̗̆ì̴̹v̶̟̄e̵̝̐ .̸̹̿

He reels his claws back before slashing at the new person. His hit lands, ripping up the black material.

They both speed up. He goes for another attack, only for it to be negated by a blue surface.

Another growl erupts from him. Aggravated that his attack did no harm.

“ӄɛɛք ʊք ȶɦɛ քǟƈɛ! ʄօʀ ȶɦʏ աɨʟʟ ƈօʋɛʀ ȶɦɛɛ'ֆ ȶʀǟƈɛ!” He turns to the muffled voice. The blue one. He roars at them, switching targets. N̴̢̕o̴̩̒ ̴̄ͅò̷̬n̸̤̈́e̷͍͆ ̷̤̀ṡ̸̖t̷͓̓ǒ̸̧p̴̺͝s̴̞̍ ̸̃͜h̵͔̊ǐ̴̥ṃ̴̿ ̷̠̿f̸̢͋r̷̙̊ộ̶m̴͙͊ ̷̩̂h̵͇͆ḭ̶͗s̸̗̎ ̷̢͘k̵̜̓ï̸̳l̶̠͛l̶̹̕.̷͑͜

The blue one starts moving, only a second too late. He is able to get in one attack. Keeping his pace against them.

The spikes retract into the ground. Opening up the arena more.

The blue one makes a mistake. Running into the flowing trail he leaves behind. They let out a grunt as they continue to run.

He catches up to them. N̷̘͊ò̵̧ ̷̢͑ṣ̷͊e̷̩͋n̴̬͛t̶̻͋i̵͖̐ṉ̴͘ḛ̸̐ĺ̵͓ ̴͚̔t̴̝̆o̵̬̓ ̴̤̽ş̶̏à̷̧v̶͇͠ě̵͍ ̸͙̊y̴̺͝ö̸̺u̷̡͑ ̸̼͘n̷̂͜ǫ̴͒w̷̝͌.̷̡̕ His permanent smile strains higher. His claws dig deep into the blue one.

A bright pink light fills his vision. Not before an explosion rings out against him. Ȗ̷̯ğ̶̩h̵̙́!̶͔͘ ̶̰̅W̸̨̛h̷̜̓e̴͚̕ŕ̴̞e̷̥̓ ̴̮̌i̸̩̽s̴̼͊ ̵̭͗t̸͖̚ĥ̷̟a̷̬͝t̴̫̍ ̸͎̀b̵̢̚l̸̦̚ȧ̴̤c̶̙̉k̶̺͛ ̸̤͝a̶̼̒n̴̫̑d̸̠͆ ̵̰̔y̶͓̌ĕ̶̙l̵̩̀l̵̟̄ö̵̧́w̴̞̓ ̷̬̇ơ̸̮ņ̵͠ė̶̝.̵͆͜

He looks around, spotting the new one close by. Him. H̴̜̑ȇ̷͕'̸̤̅s̶͉̕ ̸̂ͅț̴͝ḧ̴̗́ȅ̶͖ ̶̼̓o̷͉̔n̵̤͝ę̵̆.̶̢̏

He once more shifts targets. Ń̴͜o̶̦̽ ̴̋͜o̸̡͠n̶̰͝e̴̬̊ ̷̰̕i̸̪͛s̶̘̀ ̴͉̊å̵͎l̶̙͊l̴̳͆ò̶͈w̴̫͝e̴͇̾d̶̯͝ ̷̫́t̷̮̔ǫ̷͒ ̷̼̀d̴̨͝o̴̘̚ ̴͚̚t̸͎̿h̵̟͘a̷͉͛ť̸̘ ̷̹͋t̸̟͠o̸̼̎ ̴̳̃h̶̘͝i̷̥͝m̷̪͛.̴̲͝ Swinging his claws towards them.

“I ƚσʅԃ ƚԋҽҽ ƚσ ԃαʂԋ! Fσɾ ɯԋαƚ ɾҽαʂσɳ ԃσҽʂ ƚԋҽҽ ԋαʋҽ ƚσ ʅαʂԋ?” He can barely make out the sounds from behind him. The new one falls to the floor, leaving them open to r̸̹̈́ḙ̴͋ṭ̵̐r̶͈̓ë̵̢́b̵̜͘u̶̪̍t̷̟͆i̸̠͆o̵̡̾n̸̮̑.̵̺͘

They start to scuffle backwards. Failing time and time again to get off the ground. His smile once more strains in its growth.

He reaches towards their head.

Only, instead of grabbing the new one, he takes something else.

“G-Gσ…” The blue one mutters just before he plunges his massive spike into their chest. B̸̧͊l̸̜͒ơ̸̱ȍ̶̮d̶̛̟ș̴͌h̶̢̓e̴͈̓d̸̲̿.̸̦̾ He pulls out, throwing the dead one onto the floor. The glow originating from them fading.

He turns back to look at the new one. They have already stumbled onto their feet. He gives chase. T̶͎͐h̶̙̔ȩ̸͝ỳ̷̹'̷̙͂r̶̞͋e̶̺͠ ̸̳̅ȃ̵̰l̷̞̄l̸̻͘ ̵͙͛ḧ̶̥i̶̯̕s̸̩͠.̵͎̓

They don’t make it far. Tripping and falling to the floor once again. Before they could get up, he grabs them by the head.

He stabs them directly into the chest. Pleasure radiating through his chest. It’s been so long since he’s gotten to kill a new one.

He pulls out, dropping them to the floor.

N̶̟̑ǫ̸̉w̴̖͐,̷̛̣ ̶̛͈w̶̠̉ḣ̸̜o̵͙̅'̶̪̌ṣ̶͝ ̷̥̀n̴͔̔é̶̼x̵͈͝t̸̠̂?̸̓͜

He turns around and spots someone growing close. Stopping before running back to the lower ground. The red one. He pursues. Away from the two bodies behind him.

T̴͓̈́h̸̝͐ĕ̸͖ ̵̮̿g̴̩̓ǎ̸̻m̷̥̍e̵͉͒'̸̻͛ş̸̕ ̵͎̆j̷͇͐ṵ̴̀s̴͉͗t̶̯̉ ̷͔̒s̴͚̕t̵̜̎ȃ̵͖r̷̨̆t̴̬̒e̵̜͂d̶̥̑.̴͇̅

Chapter Text

And that… should… do it!

The ding and hum of a completed generator fills the surrounding area. Bouncing off the walls, creating an echoing effect. They carefully close the lid of the generator before standing up.

They haven’t heard from the killer this round… Not for a while. That doesn’t make them feel any better. In fact, it makes it worse.

Their hands start shaking. Well, more than usual. A tingling sensation crawls up their spine. Their body involuntarily shivers, turning into shaking. From their back to their head. Limbs flailing with the urge to shake out that feeling of stares.

Slasher can’t be near. They saw him run towards the house earlier. But he could be anywhere now! Just because he was there at the start of the round, doesn’t mean he didn’t move!

Noob starts hyperventilating. Is Slasher near? Please don’t tell them he’s here. With all these corners, Slasher could just appear behind one of them and behead them at any time!

The sound of something hitting the grass to the left of them attracts their attention. Noob shoots their head in that direction in an instant. Nearly dropping the Bloxy Cola in their hand. Shoot! Is he here?

They start to crush the unopened can in their hands. The soft pops of the metallic container could be heard whenever it even remotely gives into the pressure. Starting to grow in frequency as more sounds could be heard from that direction.

They could check it out. See if anyone’s in trouble. But what could they do? It’s not like they are a sentinel or a support to help! They would freeze up. They don’t even flee! And that’s all they are good at!

Despite their better judgement, and any sense of danger, Noob goes to investigate. If it is Slasher, they can easily start running! They have the high ground after all! 

Noob takes a few steps up the rocks. Keeping his hands in front and close to his chest. Fidgeting with the bracelets they wear. The little beads clicking and snapping together. They could finally peer over and around the rocks that surround them. Setting their sights on the Archery Range.

There, amongst all the targets, is a fellow survivor. Noob visibly relaxes. Hunched up shoulders lowering a few inches. Breathing out a relieved sigh. It’s only Taph.

The demolitionist seemed to be standing in the middle of the range. Staring down at the pikes in his hands. The ones he uses for tripwires, right? That must be the string that connects the two ends. There is also a faint magenta glow near the fence.

Noob carefully steps down the rock-like ramp. Growing closer to Taph’s little camp- area he formed. They’ve heard the other survivors call what Taph does a “nest.” They aren’t sure if Taph’s accepted the name for it. And it seems rude to use it if the person making them doesn’t like it. And… it might remind the demolitionist of what he lost…

They step over the few tripwires layered over the entrance of the archery range. Avoiding the Subspaces as well, they don’t want to alert Slasher that the two of them are here. All until they are standing next to the demolitionist.

Noob isn’t sure what to do now. Taph is still staring at the stakes. He’s made no motion to indicate that he knows that they are with him. Okay. Great. Now what?

Their eyes grow wide as their eyebrows furrow. Staring at the white painted blades of grass. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-

The small click of metal draws their attention. Noob pulls back up the Bloxy Cola still in his hands. Maybe if he…

Noob snaps the soda open. A soft, refreshing buzz comes out as air is released from the can. Just as he remembers. Well… how it was before this place. However long ago that was.

Noob holds the soda can out to Taph. Making sure it’s in his eye sight. They notice the demolitionist slowly turn their hood in their direction. Noob smiles slightly as they pull out another Bloxy Cola. Opening that too, but with one hand this time. They’ve grown accustomed to opening them one handed by now.

The survivalist takes a sip of the cola, still holding the other one out for Taph to take. The support does so, letting Noob drop their hand. The newbie watches Taph from the corner of their eye. Seeing the demolitionist drop their mask slightly, enough to open his mouth. He takes a sip before reverting the mask’s position.

Noob enjoys the silence created as they drink. Just two people in the middle of a realm they can’t escape. Just two people stuck in the middle of a death game. Just two people appreciating each other’s company, at least they hope so. Just two people.

Just… two people…

“H-Hey Taph!” Noob abruptly raises their voice. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him again! “H-How a-are you d-doing?” They speak in a quick manner. Stop thinking! Don’t think about Si-

Taph provides a weak thumbs up. Dropping his hand almost as quickly. Come on! Give them something more! Please!

“H-How about your r-relation to o-1x?” They ask without thinking. Running on autopilot to not think about- STOP!

They see Taph stiffen at the question. Oh wait… was that bad? That was probably bad to ask. Oh dear. Shoot. Uhhh…

“I-I’ve heard it’s g-good to p-possibly t-talk about it! C-Could help g-get it out of y-you’re head.” They start speaking faster, stutter worsening with anxiety. They already messed this up, didn’t they? They should have just stayed quiet! They wouldn’t be annoying and intrusive then!

“I’m good. I don’t-” Taph starts to sign before stopping midway. Seeming to realize something. Instead, he starts to shake his head.

“A-Actually,” Noob slows down his speech a little bit, “I know some sign language. I know because of my… friend…” Stop thinking about him!

Taph looks over to Noob, seemingly in shock. The newbie gives a shaky smile to the other. “It’s not a lot. But it helps when I get overwhelmed.” They sign to both prove a point and to stop themselves from speaking about their friend.

They really need to stop. It’s been so long, they shouldn’t still be held up on them! Their disappearance was how they got taken. Ok. They really need to stop. Like, really.

“I…” Taph slowly lowers the sign. Noob tries to patiently await Taph’s decision. But is struggling to because they desperately want a distraction from their own overworking thoughts. “Alright…” He signs small. Deliberate.

He places his cola down on the grass below them. “1x… We… used to be friends. 1x was dropped off when their father came to visit Builder. We… hung out all the time.” Taph started slowly. Small hand movements, almost hard to make out from the side-to-side angle they were at.

“We used to pull pranks. Joke around about the other admins. I would bring them with me on jobs. We… 1x wanted to learn sign language for me…” Noob could see the moonlight reflect off of Taph’s face. A wet sheen showing where his eyes are under all the shadows casted by the hood he always wears.

“We were best friends! We did everything we could together! 1x taught me how to sword fight!” Taph’s hands started to shake. His breathing grew ragged, drawing out coughs and sobs from under his mask.

Noob acts before thinking. They drop their soda onto the ground, bringing a tilting Taph into a hug. Wrapping their hands around the demolitionist’s chest, patting his back. “H-Hey, hey. I-It’s okay.”

Taph continues to tremble. Bringing his shivering hands around Noob’s body. Tightly gripping onto their sweater. Leaning onto them. Noob doesn’t want to assume, but they think he might have lost his balance.

“You two… s-seemed like g-great friends.” They mutter into his ear, tightening the hug.

It was these words… Those words are what seemed to break Taph.

The demolitionist hiccups before starting to sob. His knees give out as they put all their weight against Noob. Digging his face into their shoulder. Bunching up their sweater as he tightly grips at it.

Noob responds by patting Taph’s back. Keeping him steady and upright. “Y-You can never r-replace th-those memories. T-They are th-there forever. K-Keep them c-close. R-Remember them. Cherish them.”

They didn’t want to, but… They desperately miss Sixer. Ever since Sixer went missing, it was like a light has been extinguished in his life. One thing that kept him going was gone. Even if he met people during that time, they were never as close as his best friend.

So when they went into that haunted house, Telamon’s Mansion, alone, they swore they saw Sixer’s silhouette in there. So they went in, even if they were scared. They went in for him. Only for it to be a trap.

But… they aren’t here to wallow in their own pity. They are here for Taph. They both lost an old friend. Noob lost Sixer. And Taph lost 1x.

Both mourn for their own respective losses. Treasuring the time they spent with them when they had them. And working towards a future where they can live with both the memory and the current.

Noob is here for Taph. And they plan to be for more times to come.

Both colas are abandoned on the floor. One spilled and the other upright.

The ongoing round is far from over. But that is on the back of both their minds. The comfort is all that matters.

Basking in each other’s presence after loss. Taph’s a good friend. A great one even. It’s too bad 1x didn’t see that.

“D-Do you want to m-make s-something later?” Noob offers. They find that crafts are a good stress reliever. Even if they are bad, they are releasing their emotions.

They feel Taph nod into their shoulder. The newbie smiles faintly. “I-I got j-just the thing.” They made a bracelet for Sixer when he went missing. So, maybe if they made some more, it will remind Taph of the good times.

Noob thinks about some of the beads they are going to need. Black, gold, and green for Taph. Red, black, yellow, green, and blue for them? Maybe? There are so many options! There are even shaped and lettered ones.

They should bring them all. Just in case.

The two of them should probably worry about Slasher and the round. But… they can afford to be selfish. Just this once.

Noob hugs Taph tighter. The recipient reciprocates the act.

The two stand alone in the target range. Embracing each other. Providing comfort for one another.

Amidst the odds, they are together. And Noob wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

A person in a bright red uniform walks out of their own personal cabin. One hand firmly holding onto a cloth covered plate. All while the other did the meaningless tasks of opening and closing the door.

He carefully lifts the hand towel off the plate. Taking count of all the baked goods underneath. 11. Good. All of them are here.

11 is an odd number to have despite making an even amount of the chocolate dessert. He just… he had to try one. At least to make sure that it’s edible! He’s not the greatest baker compared to his sister. These are meant to help Taph, not cause greater strife.

He lowers the cloth over the still warm brownies. Making sure to keep them that temperature as he makes his way towards the demolitionist’s cabin. A small twitch of giddiness breaks through his customer service smile.

Elliot has been searching for a way to help Taph out for a while now. Ever since that fateful round with 1x. And he finally found one.

The pizza worker has known that Taph is by far the closest with the admins. They… they want to also be that close. They yearn for any meaningful connection. He hasn’t really connected to anyone here on a personal level… Only there to help everyone survive like an employee should.

Yeah…

Only help…

Well, he finally got the free time to talk to them about stuff not related to the rounds. He’s always busy making sure everyone’s good after rounds. Especially after what happened to Taph. Who knows if one day someone will come back without a head after one of Slasher’s Beheads. Or maybe have Guest lose an arm. Or… ugh- 007n7 losing his tail.

They first asked Shedletsky. Who was… really helpful. The sword master knew nothing about Taph. Nothing besides what he did for work or workplace gossip. Did they seriously not interact once at Roblox Headquarters?

He next turned to Builderman. As much as the CEO knew about Taph professionally… Personally? Not so much. Not until recently, at least.

With their last hope, they searched for Dusekkar. The mage surprisingly knew a lot about the demolitionist. Which… kinda makes sense now. The two of them have practically been attached to their hips ever since Taph joined them.

A small ounce of something sour grew in his mouth. His everyday customer service smile fading into a grimace. Only to return a moment later. It’s not nice to think of people that way Elliot! Dusekkar’s done nothing to warrant this reaction from you! He’s done nothing but help ever since he got here. 

The mage informed them that Taph loved brownies. Even bringing in some for the staff room occasionally. They can’t help but soften their smile after hearing that. They would have done the same for their coworkers if it wasn’t for the fact that Builder Brother’s barely had any employees. Just them and 3 others, minus the manager.

Dusekkar even gave them the recipe! He might have reverse engineered it. Taph doesn’t seem like the type to share anything, especially after hearing how his life was before being sent here.

So he baked the brownies. Following each step to a T. Which were… surprisingly simple. Nothing overly complex for the limited resources they own.

The mage even mentioned Taph made his own frosting for some of the brownie slices. And was somehow able to reverse engineer that too. It’s… a bit concerning how far Dusekkar had been able to learn a recipe from just taste alone…

Nevertheless, Elliot whipped up some frosting while the brownies baked. Making multiple colors out of them. Though the majority of the frosting went into purple, pink, black, and yellow.

When the brownies were taken out and cooled, he started frosting them. Nothing overly complex, he still wants them somewhat warm. Decorating seven out of the twelve baked goods.

The last one he frosted had a heart. One red with a white outline. Why did he… no. He couldn’t give that. It felt… Just no. It could be his taste test brownie! Yeah, that’s what it is.

The brownie itself was delicious. Much better than the box mixes and any bakery ones he’s had. A gooey interior while keeping its rougher exterior. The frosting gives that soft feeling and accentuates the chocolate. It’s honestly the best brownie he’s ever had. Probably would be better if Taph made it.

Elliot knocks on the door to Taph’s cabin. He hasn’t actually seen the demolitionist since the last round. Which… happened to be against 1x again.

He would love to help Taph out more in those rounds, but everyone relies on him so much. He can’t let them down! He’s the only one with a reliable and quick heal. He has to help them. It’s his job.

“Hey Taph, it’s me, Elliot! I’m going to come in, alright?” He calls out towards the door. Elliot waits a moment before opening the front door.

The cabin was in the same disrepair as before. The best that they’re going to get. Broken traps and disarmed explosives lay abandoned where they once were. Feathers scattered on the floor. He could probably clean up a little bit while he’s here. Except for the traps. Especially not the traps. Not after the last time.

Elliot shivers before looking to where the bedroom typically is. With all the cabins being copy and pasted replicas, it makes it easy to know the lay out of each one. So Elliot walks up to the closed door, knocking on that one too.

“I got a gift for you. Is it alright if I come in? Tap on the wall once if I can, twice for no.” They want to give the demolitionist some freedom in what he chooses. Allow him to choose to let them in, instead of them bursting in.

Elliot gets one tap. It was a bit hard to hear, but his senses have been tuned to hear the smallest of noises ever since coming here. Being the primary target of the killers requires that skill.

The pizza delivery man slowly opens the door. The lights were off, which seemed like the usual for Taph. The demolitionist was curled up in their nest of a bed. Elliot can't help but warmly smile at the furniture choice.

They walk around the untrapped room after closing the door. Making their way over to Taph’s nightstand. Placing the plate onto it. “Sorry for intruding.” They whisper in a soft tone.

Taph’s head wings twitch in acknowledgement. Elliot carefully sits down onto the edge of the bed, providing enough space in between the two of them.

“I made you something. Or… more like baked you something.” Elliot brings one of his hands up to the back of his neck, rubbing it. The other was placed in his lap. He shifts his gaze from the demolitionist to the plate.

The pizza worker could hear shuffling coming from beside them. They turn just enough to catch Taph in the peripherals of their sight. Elliot could see that the demolitionist had sat up. Back leaning against the wall. It seems like his balance still hasn’t improved. They wish they could do more to help. Anything. They’d do everything in their power to help if they could.

A somber smile forces itself onto his lips. Elliot turns to fully face Taph, who had turned to meet their gaze. They look awful. Or, from what he can infer. It’s hard to tell with Taph. But with the way the demolitionist is carrying themselves, they clearly aren’t doing well.

This seems to be pretty consistent after rounds with 1x as the killer. He barely sees Taph in those rounds. But when he does, the trapper is often hiding in a corner of the map or being chased by both the killer and the sentinels. The latter trying to keep them alive.

Elliot takes a deep breath, before shifting their gaze to the covered plate. “You can take the cloth off, by the way.” A nervous chuckle forces its way out of their throat. Have they always been this awkward? Just treat this like any other customer. Just another ally to help.

That… sounds dehumanizing somehow…

He watches as Taph picks the plate up, relocating it into their lap. The fabric was carefully lifted off and placed carefully onto the bedding. 11 perfectly cut brownie slices left stacked on top of each other in a circular pyramid.

Elliot nervously coughs, bringing Taph’s attention back to him. Why is he feeling this nervous? “I, uhhh… heard from Dusekkar that your favorite treat is brownies. So… I spent time making some for you.” He could feel the fabric of his visor under his fingers. Great. He’s fidgeting with his visor again. He really needs to break this nervous tick.

Taph shifts their gaze from him to the brownie stack. Continuing to do this for some time. This silence and lack of action is getting to him. His nerves are on fire. Is this normal? This can’t be normal. He’s just trying to help.

The demolitionist finally acts, drawing out a sigh from Elliot. Taph picks up the top brownie. The picture of a wonky and curvy Subspace core frosted on top. He’s a chef, not an artist! It’s brought up to Taph’s mask, with the demolitionist lowering it slightly. Just enough to take a bite. Taph raises the mask right after.

Elliot looks away for a moment. Staring straight ahead to the empty wall across from the nest. “I tried to follow the way Dusekkar described how to make them. I’m… not that great at baking as I am at cooking. I also have no idea how he was able to reverse engineer the recipe…” He mutters the last part before looking back up to Taph.

A sniffle is drawn out of Taph. Elliot’s eyes widen as they take notice of the now flowing tears on the demolitionist’s face. Did they do something wrong? Did they add too much sugar? Flour? Are they bad? Is this a rude gift?

“Did I do something wrong?” Elliot asks in a rushed and panicked manner. “I- I can make more! I don’t know how much more ingredients I have left, but it should be enough for some more. I… I can do that right now!” He attempts to stand up. Only for Taph to grab hold of his hand, pulling him back down onto the bed.

The demolitionist shakes their head. Sniffling one more time as they place the bitten brownie back into the pile. “No. They are perfect.” Taph wipes at their eyes before lowering their mask to their neck. Taking bites of the brownies again.

Elliot can feel all the tension in his body evaporate in an instant. They’re good. Thank Telamon his tastebuds aren’t defective from the amount of pizzas he and the rest of the survivors eat. He closes his eyes and takes a relieving breath.

When he opens his eyes, there is a brownie right there. Perfect 90 degree angles and a frosted pizza on top. Elliot looks at Taph with confusion. He can’t quite tell what expression is on the demolitionist’s face, but he can make out a small smile. Tears still streaming down their face. This is one of the first times he is actually able to see Taph’s face. It’s cute- I MEAN-

The demolitionist wiggles the brownie in the air for a moment. Are they anticipating him to do something? If so, what? How can he help Taph?

The brownie is placed into his lap. Elliot turns their attention to Taph, who has started to grab another brownie from the pile. Was that what he wanted to do? Give me a brownie?

This… hasn’t really happened before. He’s only ever given and given. Not receive anything. It feels… nice. Like he’s being recognized for his efforts. A bright, real smile makes it onto his face.

Elliot picks the brownie up and to his mouth. Taking a bite of it. Just as he remembered from a few minutes ago. Just slightly cooled down. Yet, it tastes sweeter than before.

The pizza delivery man feels a pressure against his shoulder. He turns and looks down to see Taph resting their head against him. They bring the plate in between the two of them. Still taking bites of the desert.

Both of them devolve into a comfortable silence. Even if his shoulder is slowly getting wet, he’d take this over leaving Taph to suffer alone. He’s here for everyone, and that includes Taph. Their tears aren’t from sadness or anger, but from happiness. Appreciation. He can feel his own eyes grow wet from the same sentiment.

Elliot could feel some tapping onto his arm. They look down to see it coming from Taph. The demolitionist starts to sign, moving an open palm from his chin outwards. “Thank you.” The pizza employee smiles in response. Moving the hand that Taph is resting against to pat the trapper on his lower back.

He should make more brownies for Taph. Especially after rounds against 1x1x1x1. Definitely after 1x’s rounds.

The two of them sit in a comfortable silence. Enjoying the deserts for however long they can. They both know this can’t last forever. The next round is inevitable. But, they will try and keep this atmosphere going for as long as possible. Enjoying the companionship only the two of them share. A somber undertone hidden underneath. Left at bay until it rears its ugly head once more.

Chapter Text

It’s always the quietest that is the most observant. That’s what momma always said. And it’s been proven time and time again.

Momma has always been quiet. Just like he is. Momma hated loud noises. He does too. Momma prefers solitude. He does as well.

Silence is just contemplation and analysis. He’s not dumb because he’s quiet. He’s smart because he is quiet. Momma is as well.

It didn’t take long to put two and two together. Not with his fellow killers he’s stuck with. He misses Slenderman and Jeff. At least they wouldn’t kill for hatred. It’s fun to stalk their prey. The others don’t. They don’t have fun.

Except for the red child. Momma loves him. He doesn’t like the loudness that comes with the child. But… he will do whatever his momma says. Even if it’s cleaning the dishes.

Momma is living her life as a momma vicariously through him. And he’s fine with that. As long as momma’s happy, he’s happy. Which also means the child is happy.

So when the child’s turn to “play tag” was postponed unknowingly, the child was upset. And loud. Too loud.

He had to deal with the child. Not like anyone else was. Or is going to. Especially not that spiked one. The child is scared of him.

Momma gives so much advice. He remembers some of it, from before she left. Thankfully she came back.

He was able to get the child to sleep. Humming along with momma to a melody. One he vaguely remembers with fond feelings. Like he’s heard it before all of this.

The next day arrived and the child finally got his round. But he came back confused. Running immediately up to him for answers.

“Mr. Knife? Why did Mr. Hood hide his wings? Do you know where they went?” The child stared directly into his mask. He didn’t know the answer to that.

Tell him that ‘Mr. Hood’ is trying something new. Send him to draw. The soft and comforting voice of his momma resonated around him. He did just that. Thankfully the child knows sign language, even if he’s learning from the child. They didn’t teach him any after…

After…

The surroundings flash. Pale yellow sand. Gunshots. Explosions. Fear. Silence. Army. Chains. Iron. Metal doors. Slenderman. Jeff.

He feels a hand on his arm. Small. Red. Grounding.

He realizes that his breathing is audible. He struggles to swallow the spit that had coagulated in his mouth.

“Are you okay Mr. Knife…?” He nods. Trying to shake those memories out. He’s not there anymore. He escaped. With Slenderman and Jeff. Where are they? He missed them. Momma misses them.

“Let’s go draw.” He signs. The child claps, exclaiming with joy. He pulls himself from the ground. The child grips onto his hand, pulling them to their room inside their shared home.

It’s much bigger than the one he and momma shared. Not as rundown either. Better than… that area too.

He spent the time before his round coloring with the child. He drew momma, him, Slenderman, and Jeff. The child drew ‘Mr. Hood,’ except there was a distinct lack of yellow where it should be.

And he saw it in person. Mr. Hood. Taph. They were curled up in the corner of that map. The one he hates. The memories-

Shuffling behind him brings him back underground. He turns around to spot the pumpkin and hawk. Both saying something to him. But he couldn’t hear. All he could hear was momma.

Kill. Kill for momma. Kill them all. Jason, that will make momma proud of you.

That sweet voice. One that momma always used with him. How could he not give her what she wants?

He leaves behind Taph and the multitude of wires and… explosives… behind. Aiming for the pumpkin and hawk.

But, as time went on, as he remained silent and watching, analyzing and stalking, he started to grow a new emotion. One he hasn’t felt before. Momma called it pity. But… that doesn’t feel right.

Taph was always in a corner during rounds. Surrounded by those toys of his. Someone is often with him. Either the pumpkin, hawk, or builder. They were always with him.

His momma always told him to kill Taph. But… It feels wrong. He’s never felt this before. He’s always killed. No remorse too. So… why is he feeling sick doing so to Taph?

Taph would always cower. Barely fighting back. No fun chase. No fun stalking. Just… apathy.

Taph would always flinch away whenever he strikes against or towards their neck. Hands seemingly raising to the wings on their head. Instinctively protecting them like they were vital organs. The back was worse. Where there used to be pretty, well taken care of wings, was nothing but fabric. Fabric with two holes. Right where those golden wings used to reside. They would act in desperation whenever he hit there. Worse than they had before losing them.

His momma calls for him to kill them all. Everyone who calls themselves “survivors.” But… even momma seems to feel this “pity” for them. Momma calls for him to make Taph feel less pain. To avoid the neck.

And he complies.

His momma wants Taph to feel safer than he already does. He does too. It’s not fair that this has happened to someone so alike him.

He sees himself in Taph. To come capacity. Taph can actually understand him. Someone who isn’t a child.

His momma calls for him to make everyone suffer. Draw out their deaths. The only time momma tells him to play with his food. But he doesn’t for Taph. Not anymore.

They’re already suffering enough. Tripping, hiding, weak. A quick death will do Taph justice. Some relief from the pain that has been inflicted upon them. He would wish for the same. If he was stuck on the survivors side, he would also wish for a quick end. He didn’t get that during…

He shakes his head. Fabrics flapping against his head and hair. He looks down below him. Pulling him back to the present.

Taph was on the floor. Staring up at him. The last one he needs to kill.

They attempted to crawl backwards, only to stop when they felt nothing behind them. The castle they were on led to a drop. One that those survivors could normally jump off of. But he’s seen how Taph falls from heights. They flounder and take longer to recover than the rest.

Kill them Jason. Show them just the slasher you are. Make it quick. End their misery.

He looks down at Taph. That feeling coming back. For once, he ignores momma. He will have to apologize later.

Slasher stabs his machete into the rocks of the castle. Moving his hands up to his chest. Moving them in slow and sloppy movements. He knows the actions, but doing them quickly? He hasn’t reached there yet.

“I’m sorry this has happened to you.”

He can see the confusion layered on Taph’s face. The fear, shock, and warmth too.

He pulls out his trusted machete, the same one he used to leave with Slenderman and Jeff. With his free hand, he moved it in a circle around his chest. “Sorry.” Before stabbing Taph directly in the chest. Right for the heart.

He knows robloxian anatomy. After so much time and practice, it’s practically second nature for him. So he knows exactly where the heart is located and how to strike it in one stab.

Slasher heard Taph take their last shape breath. Quickly falling limp against the gray rocks and battlement. One hand falling limp, dangling off the edge at the flat part of the walls.

He won. Again. But that feeling hasn’t left yet. It never does when he sees or kills Taph.

Sympathy.

That’s the emotion.

He gets teleported back to the mansion. The round ended. He needs to prepare himself for the next round. Sharpen his machete. Clean his chainsaw. Apologize to momma.

He passes by the hatred. He knows he’s hard to read, but this should be easy for the other killer to understand. It is what they are made of anyways.

He glares directly at the hatred as he passes by. If only he could harm another killer. They can’t. He’s tried before. This better get his point across.

The door to his room arrives. He turns away from the hatred. Opening and slamming the door shut. Apologizing to momma for the outburst.

That’s alright Jason. She deserves that. Now, how about we prepare?

He nods. Detaching his chainsaw from his back. If he can, he will get revenge against the hatred. It’s not fair to people like him. Unable to speak and fight back. He had to grow stronger. Taph can too.

After we are done, how about some more drawing? I have an idea for something you could draw.

Momma always had the best ideas. Even if he didn’t have the talent for art, being worse than the child, he always found it as a relaxing hobby. Not as fun as killing, but still.

He can feel what momma wants from him. Black and gold. Along with gray, brown, and red. Black and white, as well as black, red, and white.

Him, Jeff, Slenderman, and Taph. He can do that.

A smile forms under his mask. He likes that idea. Thanks momma.

Chapter Text

The water is as still as always. Movement unable to be tracked. No wind to bring any form of movement within this realm. It’s unnerving.

He’s always enjoyed the soft breeze in autumn. That crisp, cool air fanning his flame. Not strong enough to put it out, yet cold enough to leave an impact.

He didn’t realize how much he missed it until it was gone.

Trapped in this fake world. Nothing living besides the two factions pitted against each other.

The water, while being in an unnatural state of stillness, is calming. He’s seen death, even experienced it. The tranquility of knowing that with one wrong move, he could be put out. He can stop it, of course. He wouldn’t want to perish anyways. There’s so much he needs to do.

But, taking a break every now and then is required. Especially for being the great mage he once was. It’s a learned skill to know when to take breaks.

Which is why he invited someone out to the docks.

The crunching of grass catches his attention. Quickly transitioning into the creaking of wood with one footstep. Dusekkar turns around to face his companion amongst this late night.

Of course, it's Taph. Who else would it be this far beyond the recommended time for rest? They are also the one he requested to accompany them on this platform.

Dusekkar’s glad to see that Taph’s left his cabin on his own, as evident from his ever increasing moving tail. Something he thought he had gotten under control before. But, the demolitionist has started to branch out more as of late. The mage is glad that he has been adapting to this situation in his own time. He’s experienced this kind of loss before.

“It is wonderful to see thee out and about. Thy hopes to lighten thee’s mood, without doubt.” He slowly floats towards Taph. Keeping his pace slow so as to not scare his fellow survivor like a frightened bird.

He carefully takes the demolitionist’s hands into his. Looking down at the black work gloves they still wear, even now. Before lifting their gaze up to meet where Taph’s eyes should be from under the shadows of his hood.

A soft smile forms onto his face. “Does thy place trust upon thy soul?” The crackles of his flame is the only sound that rings out amongst this unnatural landscape.

Taph nods. Shaky, yet confident. Trust. Taph trusts Dusekkar. The mage can’t help but smile a little wider. His short, blue deer tail slowly hastening its speed. “Thy deeply cherishes thee’s trust, so thy hopes thy masters thy’s goal.”

Dusekkar slowly drops Taph’s hands from his. He picks up his staff, which was laying dormant on the wooden planks. With a flick of his wrist upwards, he can feel the innate magical influence within his vessel flow into the staff.

He channels his spell to land upon his target. It’s an easy spell. One he uses all the time. However, the more he applies the spell to, the more exhausted he will become. But this is worth it. Even if it leaves him weaker within the upcoming rounds. He declares this as necessary. For it is.

A faded and clear glow colors the tip of his staff. The white of the Staff of Winds grows a blue hue as the magic flows out of it.

Dusekkar watches as the person in front of him is lifted off the ground. Fabrics flowing from a lack of gravity. Limbs flying around, struggling with the sudden weightlessness.

The mage remembers his first time using this spell. It wore him out quickly. He canceled it immediately due to the same exact feeling. Losing all weight and floating upwards. It took a lot of practice and stamina management. He had to make sure he didn’t continue to rebel against gravity itself.

So watching Taph struggle with the spell's effects draws a small laugh from him. “Everything shall work out nicely, relax. Thy is not one to be so lax.”

Dusekkar floats closer to Taph, keeping the demolitionist at a constant distance above the ground. Similar to his own floating height.

He grabs at the demolitionist’s sides. Keeping hold of his staff as well. He lifts Taph above his head, rotating them so that the two of them face the same direction. Letting Taph get into a horizontal position above him. He hears the demolitionist sharply gasp at the unanticipated action.

Taph is much lighter than normal due to the spell. Only retaining a fraction of his original weight. This also applies to himself. As long as he has his levitation spell active, anyone can pick him up.

“Let us enjoy the comfortable silence of night. For thy is here to let thee enjoy flight.” Dusekkar pushes himself forward. Leaning in that direction. He keeps his hands firmly gripping Taph’s sides, keeping him steady above himself.

Dusekkar floats around the exterior of the main cabin of the survivor’s little campsite. From the docks to the grass. The personal cabins to the collective one. The clearing to the trees. All while keeping Taph above him. Quickening his pace until he was moving as fast as he could.

He occasionally looks upwards to garner a peak at Taph’s reaction. At first, he could tell that the demolitionist wasn’t expecting this. Arms folded tightly to his chest. Knees started to fold under himself, almost hitting his own antlers.

But, the more the two continued floating at a quick pace around the clearing, he could tell Taph was growing more comfortable. Even joyous. The demolitionist held their arms out to the side of themself. Head wings flapping as if they were flying. Knees extending to their full length. Their cloak flowing softly behind.

Dusekkar can feel the joy radiate from Taph’s being. He’s glad he is the one to bring happiness to Taph. It’s what he strives to do. His tail starts wagging a mile a minute.

He feels something drop on the top of his pumpkin head. It’s small. Almost unnoticeable. Only, more fall. Almost like rain.

But that’s not right, there has been no weather cycle within this realm. No evaporation, condensation, and especially no precipitation.

That doesn’t help the spike of fear that gets drawn out of him. His tail slows its wagging, slightly lowering itself. What if the being holding them captive decided to add rain now? His flame could go out! Taph would likely also be displeased with the rain. With all the layers they wear, it must be a struggle if it gets wet.

“Dearest apologies, thy didn’t know that there would be a forecast in this pla-…” Dusekkar looks up to Taph as he speaks. Slowing down his pace to a crawl. He finally registers where the water is coming from. “Are thee alright…?”

As the mage approaches the dock once more, he slowly lowers Taph from above him. Rotating him 180 degrees before lowering him to the floor. Canceling his levitation spell, bring himself to the earth as well.

When he touches the ground, Taph collapses into Dusekkar. The mage caught the other clumsily. He wasn’t expecting this. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He just wanted Taph to experience what it’s like to fly for once. The demolitionist’s wings were never strong enough to lift him off the ground. He just wanted to bring some joy to his… ally. Friend. Something stronger, at least.

He didn’t mean to make it worse. He should have known this was going to happen. He’s just mocking Taph for losing their wings, isn’t he?

He shouldn’t have done this. He’s not good with people. This is why he keeps everyone at a distance.

Taph pushes himself further into Dusekkar’s chest. Grasping at the mage’s robes for any stimulation to release his pent up emotions. Dusekkar reciprocates, lightly clutching Taph’s own robes. Hoping that his apologies could be transferred through physical contact.

Slightly above water level, the two of them rest upon their knees. The demolitionist racked with sobs. The mage can feel tears get trapped at the corners of his eye holes. That’s not good. 

Dusekkar starts to wipe his eyes. He’s long gotten used to his own body heat and any higher temperature. He’s able to wipe at the molten wax starting to fall in the ribs of his head. He’s sorry Taph. He shouldn’t have done this. His tail sits firmly upon the ground, limp.

The warmed body lessens their hold. Pushing his burning body back. Taph hates him, doesn’t he. Great. He’s just lost the person closest to him…

“I had never felt the air like that before…” Taph started to sign. Keeping his eyes lowered to the mage’s knees.

Dusekkar wipes the area his eyes are one again. Clearing away the melting wax forming there. The smell of pumpkin spice permeating the area around them. “Thy wishes to apologize for the heartache. Thy didn’t mean to cause thee to quake.” A slight tremble is heard in his voice. Hard for everyone else, but he could hear it. His calm demeanor has cracked.

Cold envelops his hands. Dusekkar turns to catch Taph’s tearstricken gaze. The demolitionist removes their hands, leaving a lingering chill. Moving them to start signing in front of them. Dusekkar watches intently. He knows he deserves the reprimands Taph’s hands are going to provide.

“That’s not… I…” The demolitionist pauses his signs. Bringing his hand up to wipe away his tears. “I’ve never felt the wind like that. And I wouldn’t be able to again if I could…”

Taph’s tears start up again. He hiccups before continuing to sign. His arms grow shaky as they move. “1x could- had felt like that. Before…” He takes a shaky breath, opening and closing his hands repeatedly for a few seconds. “Before being forcefully grounded.”

“Thank you.” Taph spins a fist in a circle over their chest. Staring directly into Dusekkar’s inner flame. Fresh tears glazing over where his eyes are, the still moon reflecting off them.

The demolitionist leans into Dusekkar, wrapping their arms around him once again. Their freezing body contrasting against his burning one. The temperatures of their bodies mixing together into a warm middle ground. Dusekkar’s heat envelops Taph’s cold even more.

He’s so glad Taph doesn’t hate him for that stunt. It just… happened to remind him of 1x1x1x1. Which is arguably worse after everything that happened. Yet, Taph still thanked him. Does that…?

“Would thee appreciate the service if it was provided another time? Maybe next time there won’t be fear of grime.” He softly questions Taph as he continues to stare out at the unchanging waters beyond.

He can feel Taph nod against his shoulder. Ending the action as they push their eyes against his garments. Then he will perform this task another time. If it makes Taph happy, he will do everything in his power to do so.

The two of them stay like that for a while. Enjoying the other’s company in complete silence. Taph’s freezing body cooling down Dusekkar’s. While Dusekkar’s flaming body warms up Taph’s.

Eventually, he realizes how long it’s been since the last few rounds ended. His internal clock is telling him it's been just over an hour and a half. Then again, it could always be wrong due to the nature of this place.

He attempts to coax Taph into moving. Lightly tapping onto his lower back to get their attention. Only, they aren’t reacting. Dusekkar can tell that Taph’s still breathing, still alive. The mage shifts his head backwards slightly, attempting to catch Taph’s face. They're asleep, aren’t they?

Dusekkar can’t help but smile. His grip tightening ever so slightly. His short tail, which had been wagging for some time now, started to increase in pace. Of course Taph fell asleep. They need more of it. He knows just how many precautions Taph takes just to feel safe enough to rest. Does this mean they find him safe to be around?

He’s… He’s happy to have Taph in his life. And be in their life as well. He would do everything in his power that he can for Taph.

He knows this is a rough time for Taph, the same happened with him losing his head. He’s seen how relationships form and crack when one person is toughing it through a rough patch. The ones that form always end in tragedy. While the ones that crack either shatter or grow stronger.

Dusekkar picks up his staff from off the wooden surface. Casting yet another levitation spell, once more, on the two of them.

The mage holds Taph in his arms gently. Resting the demolitionist’s head against his shoulder, body pressed against him. He wraps his arms around Taph before starting to move. Destination inbound, Taph’s cabin.

He has been there for Taph, and he will continue to do so. Perhaps there will never be a time where they deepen their relationship. Maybe this is as far as it will get. And he’s fine with that outcome. Just being as close as he is with the demolitionist is enough for him.

Chapter Text

She stalks around the new rendition of Planet Voss. She never knew why the Spectre decided to change how it looked. But she does have to regretfully agree that it is marginally better than what it was like before.

They dislike how quiet it is. They hate it. That stupid creator of theirs stunned them a long time ago, somehow getting away. They even pulled out their eye right before that, so their Unstable Eye is on cooldown.

Why must they have cooldowns here? It’s not fun. They hate the cooldowns. They just want to kill their creator. And that traitor.

A flash of yellow passes in the corner of their vision. Running towards the center tree. Speak of the rotten and they shall appear.

He can feel himself grin. Something he only does when killing others, especially his creator. Someone’s alone.

She hasn’t seen that traitor alone in a long time. Always sticking around the others. Becoming far to buddy-buddy with their creator. She still has a job to finish. The round may have ended before, but she has plenty of time in this one.

He stalks over to the tree, finding that traitor doing the generator there. This will be so satisfying. He’s seen them tripping over themselves so often. Always a free kill. Makes it super easy to get more time with all the others that crowd them too.

But… it won’t be nearly as fun without a little challenge. She looks down at the dual Daemonshanks in her hands. An idea popping into her head. She knows she can beat him, but a challenge would be fun.

They throw one of the Daemonshanks onto the ground next to the traitor. They watch as he flinches, turning to face them.

They feel the fear and hatred radiating off of him. It’s delicious. But not as good as their creator’s. Nothing can beat the thing that created them.

“P1ck 1t up.” They order. 1x stares at the shaking figure in front of them. Pathetic. Just a shaking coward when not being protected by the others. “1 s41d; P1ck. 1t. Up.”

The traitor scrambles to pick up her Daemonshank. She can’t believe she’s letting him pick up her precious weapon. But, where would be the fun in torturing the little, pathetic traitor in front of her without a little duel?

“Y0u r3m3mb3r wh4t 1 t4ught y0u, tr41t0r?” They grin, getting into their usual stance. Holding the handle with both of their hands. The sword’s tip behind them on the right side of them, nearing the ground. The pose their creator uses, and subsequently taught them.

The traitor follows her pose. She also taught them the same. It was all she knew at the time. As much as she wishes she could change her stance to be different from him, it’s so ingrained into her body that it’s impossible. She was made from him after all.

Their stance was all sloppy. They really didn’t retain anything that she taught them. She scoffs. “P4th3t1c.” They were too guarded in all the wrong places. Shoulders too tense, legs wobbly. Hands shaking and fumbling with the Daemonshank in their hands.

He knows how this will end. He’s never lost to anyone besides his creator. No matter how many times he’s dueled against the traitor, he’s always won.

They decide to wait for the first move. Standing in the same position. Guarded in all the right places. Feet firmly planted on the ground, arms tensed instead of the shoulders, torso twisted to help lead their counter.

However, it seems that the traitor also had the same idea. He panted with a shortness of breath she’d only ever seen after multiple rounds of training for the whole day. Before he backstabbed her.

Hatred rushed through her body. Flowing directly into her head and arms. She will not let him keep those that he shouldn’t. He will not get to have something she lacks. He will not make it out unharmed. He will not live.

She charges in, pushing off the ground with light steps. Tightening her grip on the handle of her beloved sword. Already anticipating the block that will follow.

They swing their sword wide. Onto the traitor’s left side, opposite of where their sword is situated. He reacts late. Far too late. Just barely blocking their slash from connecting with skin. But not enough to hold off the swing entirely.

Red starts to stain the traitor’s black robes. Barely visible within the eternal night, but they can see. They know.

The traitor whimpers, one hand letting go of the sword and to the small tear in their skin and cloak. One hit for her. Good.

She can feel the hatred flow from them. Even better. They will be even more messy than they are now.

Using the momentum from the parry, she spins around. Sword traveling throughout the air. She knows that this is extremely obvious for an attack. It’s for the flair.

The attack gets blocked, obviously. The traitor’s stance is much more refined now. “G00d t0 kn0w y0u 4r3 n0t 4s much 0f 4 push0v3r 4s b3f0r3.” She grins, red eye glowing brighter as she feels the hatred flowing from the traitor in waves. Yes, feed into the hatred.

They keep up their assail, launching an attack from below. It gets parried, but they don’t let the traitor retaliate. Instead, swinging from above now.

This pattern continues. 1x1x1x1 attacks from every possible way, with that traitor blocking and deflecting to the best of his abilities. Keeping the traitor from getting any openings to attack. Nearly tripping over himself many, many times. The two of them circling around the tree, the traitor leading while backing up continuously. It’s actually fun. This is what 1x has been missing. That challenge. The equaller footing. Where they aren’t above the other in power.

They realized they had gotten too cocky too late. With yet another spin move, — it’s really fun to pull off in their opinion — it left them vulnerable for too long for their liking. And the traitor capitalized on it.

They feel a faint stinging through their back. Fazing all the way through to their chest. All their momentum was blocked and lost. They look downwards.

Right there, sticking through their clear, green chest, was a sword. The tip of their Daemonshank that originates from their opponent’s hands. That traitor’s hands.

They stabbed him. They stabbed him right in the chest. They landed a hit. They actually hit him for the first time.

The stinging continues to spread. The poison. They have a resistance to poison, but not an immunity.

She swerves her head so fast, she feels slightly light headed. Probably the poison taking effect. The traitor is just standing there, behind her. Stance stressed. Arms holding the sword plunged into her chest.

Shock. She feels shock coming from him. Fear too. Fearful for what is to come.

They growl. No one. No one is allowed to hit them. No one is allowed to slash them. No one is aloud to shoot them. No one is allowed to stab them.

The hand still holding onto her own Daemonshank starts to shake. Rage and hatred burning through her system just like the poison still flowing from the sword lodged in her chest.

That traitor is not getting away with this.

They were having fun. Playing around with their food. The fight was the hunt. Removing what is not his was the prize.

Before the traitor could respond, 1x grips her Daemonshank tighter. Thrusting it backwards into the traitor’s side. Narrowly dodging any vital organs. She wants him alive. She wants him to experience all the excruciating pain she is going to inflict upon him. She is going to get rid of those wings!

The traitor drops to the ground, letting go of the Daemonshank still stuck in her body. The traitor coughs as he presses his hands to the poisonous sword.

1x takes hold of the sharp blade hanging out of their chest. Gripping onto it, feeling the poisonous blade dig into their fingers, cutting them. Sizzling interrupting the staggered breathing behind them.

They start to pull. Pulling the sword through their entire body. From the tip to the handle. From back to front. Poison flaring as their sword slices through their chest.

As the handle exits her chest, green liquid bursts out. The same green liquid on the Daemonshank. Her blood. That traitor doesn’t deserve to be one of the few to make her bleed. Not this much. Her creator never made her bleed this much.

Their red eye glows with an overwhelming flow of hatred. Hatred for the one person who they thought they could trust at one time. Hatred for the person who betrayed them in their time of need. Hatred for the person who attacks them with no remorse.

She turns around to fully face that traitor. Red eye illuminating the whimpering and shaking form of the one person she called a friend once. Taph.

1x takes hold of the sword still in Taph’s body, lifting him up slightly as they do so. They bring up one of their legs, planting it onto Taph’s chest.

“Y0u d3s3rv3 th1s.” Is all they say as they kick the traitor off of the sword. Poison reignited and flowed even more so throughout Taph’s body. Red blood flowed out of the wound, coating his robes with the liquid. Staining the yellow highlights.

Taph folds into himself, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands. 1x glares at the body below him. Pathetic.

She kicks the traitor in their stomach, pushing them onto their back. Before she stomps onto the open, gushing wound. Drawing out an almost gutteral, broken attempt at a scream from the traitor.

He raises both of his Daemonshanks, planting them over Taph’s head, right above their head wings. “S4y g00dby3, tr41t0r.” He spits out venom, before swiftly thrusting the two swords directly down.

Their smile grows wider the closer their swords cut through the air to meet with their intended targets. He deserves this for deserting them. Unfortunate little Taph, left all alone against the big, bad, vengeful, and hateful spirit of 1x1x1x1.

Millimeters from connecting with the traitor’s unauthorized wings, there is resistance. Something stopping him from connecting with the traitor. That-

A light blue shield is casted over that traitor. 1x turns her head sharply into the direction of where the spell was being casted from. Her creator’s friend. That pumpkin. She will not let him interrupt her reward. She earned this. She deserves this. After everything her creator made her go through. After everything Taph made her go through. She will not let this stand-

“4UGHHH!” They shout out in pain, tripping over themselves, nearly falling to the floor. Only able to catch themselves before doing that by kneeling. Stabbing one of their bloody Daemonshanks into the ground to stabilize themselves.

“The Spawn doesn’t condone such tortuous methods.” That sly little- That damn cultist and their creepy smile. 1x turns his head around to stare Daemonshanks into that little mosquito. They had just stabbed him right where that traitor got him. The green, poisonous blood flowing at a more frequent rate.

She could hear footsteps approaching. A rushed breathing growing stronger. She can see a new figure appearing from behind one of the smaller white walls around the center of the map.

That red child’s father. What’s that coward doing here? Getting this close to her? He can’t be… No. He can’t-

“C-Come on. I got y-you.” As soon as the blue shield bursts into light blue shards and particles, the exploiter takes hold of her prey. Lifting them up and helping to carry them away from her.

The father’s movements are sloppy, like they always are. But there’s a certain quality to his sloppiness. That quality of control the traitor doesn’t express. She’s not letting either of them escape this. Especially not Taph, and especially not alive.

She stumbles to her feet. Growling and breathing heavily. They… will not… get away with this. Her unstable eye twitches as she reels back her swords. If she can’t get to Taph this round. If she can’t get rid of those blasted head wings, then she will just kill him instead.

Hatred radiated around them. So much from all directions. All for them to grasp. To feel. To hate.

A rattling sound is produced. Those two will not make it far. They will not live. THEY WILL NOT LIV-

She didn’t have time to react to the close proximity of a swing next to her. Falling to her knees, propped on her hands before she could land on the floor. No… NO! Not him. Anyone but her creator.

“Not today, 1x.” They hear him coldly state behind them. Flashes of that robe make it into their vision. That shadow casted over the top of their face, leaving only one eye visible. Those massive hawk-like wings. Telamon.

It’s been so long since she’s heard her creator sound like that. And it’s so much worse. She hates it. Hates, hates, HATES.

She hears her creator run away. Footsteps grow quieter. But that's not who she is focused on. No. She watches as that traitor gets away. How the pumpkin casts their speed spell, making both the exploiter and traitor faster towards them and the other supports.

The father leads Taph to the healers. The pizza worker rushes over to the two. Doesn’t the delivery man have something against the exploiter?

His creator’s best friend continues waving. Faint pink mist radiates from where that engineer is. Of course, one of his dispensers.

1x props themselves up with the help of their Daemonshanks. They watch as the traitor runs behind the wall, right to the dispenser. He will not live. He will not LIVE. HE WILL NOT LIVE!

She spins herself around. Leading her dual sword to face right where that dispenser is. A small projectile is launched forward. An Entanglement. She will not let him live. Not with those wings. This is her only opening.

She hears the workings and mechanical components of the dispenser shattering upon hit. Flames erupted from the exploded machine, casting debris around the area. The area with a glowing yellow mark of that traitor. She can’t help but smirk. She hit him. This is her chance. This is her only chance!

All of the wind was shot out of her just as she started to move. She clutches at her chest, right where the open wound was, again. A small puncture hole. Preceded by a shot.

“Bullseye!” They hear from in front of them. 1x shifts their gaze from the supports and survivalist to that one gambler, not far away from the previous group. One that was celebrating a successful shot onto them.

They will not take any more of this blasphemy. They will not be clowned on any more. They will not take this unadulterated beating.

That traitor can wait another day. This isn’t finished. It won’t be until those blasted head wings are chopped clean off. But, it would be much easier when they are the last one left.

So, until that time comes… They will make everyone else’s lives a living hell. Maybe then they will abandon Taph just like how he abandoned them.

After all…

They are two sides of the same coin.