Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Stone brick. The prison was made of stone brick and Wemmbu never felt more mortified.

People trapped him in obsidian cages, in giant escape rooms, unbreakable fortresses. Traps that lagged so bad, he couldn't even move, and yet. And yet. He looks at stone bricks, guards with eyes staring right through him, and feels nothing but the sluggish drag of tiredness.

The chains that clung to his wrists were noisy as he walked. Clink. Clink. Irritating him as he was led through the prison, to the point of slowing down, just for the insufferable Clink. to stop. His gait was too slow, it seems, as Loppezz' sword dug into his back, the sharp tip of diamond against orange fabric. He, for a split second, amused the thought of leaning back, but decided against it.

"Well?" Loppezz nudged him forward and Wemmbu stumbled, grumbling beneath his breath as he continued, dragging his feet.

He felt bare, vulnerable in thin orange material without either Elytra or his Maces. His eyes lock onto every guard they pass, every sign, door and pathways. On his journey, he meets pupil-less eyes and thinks he is met with sympathy. How foreign, it has always been between pity or disdain, not sympathy, not someone who didn't wish hell upon him.

The moment is gone just as fast as it came and Wemmbu is forced to walk at normal pace. Deputy_Ace, a face he can't recall seeing before, remains in the back of his mind.  

Another door, another piston and Lettuce waits on the other side, smiling just as he expected everything to go according to plan. It was anticlimactic, to him at least, with the way Lettuce portrayed himself, the image he built. Wemmbu wanted to bite him, ram into him with his horns, swat at him with his wings, and scratch his netherite armour up. Do mildly inconvenient things to him that would annoy him for the rest of his life.

"Stop that." Loppezz' tail swipes at his and he sends her a look. She must have read his intentions then.

"Loppezz," Lettuce calls her instead and her head snaps to him. "Wemmbu will be in your charge for the foreseeable future." Tick. Tick. Tick. The announcement of his decision sounded awfully like the sand falling until suffocation, the shape of the clock too small to keep him alive.

How pompous, to call it his foreseeable future. What was he, if not a bargaining chip, a prisoner of war, a promise of retribution to the people, a ticket for the crown. Less than an individual, when it was everything he wanted to be.

At least Spoke, Zam, even Clown, handled him as if he were a walking threat. Some of them had more fun than the others, but they treated him with wariness. Comparing them to the Law? It was downright… silly. In contrast to them, however, Lettuce needed him.

Humiliated in the end once more, instead of being called a bug, it was being showed off to a crowd of thousands. It was being portrayed as captured, as helpless when he was anything but. Never has he been so blatantly used, to rig a voting for the crown, of all things.

The server did not need a ruler, far from it, did no one learn from the past? Did everyone else just… forget?

He didn't care, not really. It was just a game, how the others saw it as something serious was beyond him. Wemmbu didn't feel threatened by the man holding him prisoner, not by the guards in the walls or the micromanagement of their saturation and food intake. They could mock him all he wanted, he didn't care.

His back prickled.

The threat of being under constant watch wasn't as intimidating as Lettuce must have hoped for. Having them mine gold in the wrong Y Level with wooden pickaxes or farm for their little army wasn't too bad. They didn't restrict the ability to communicate nor was solitary confinement a promise for anything but loneliness.

The Law didn't do anything to put a disadvantage on its prisoners.

It was confusing.

How hard could it really be? He escaped worse situations, even if Gambit and Crucible were in his enderchest. Even if most of his stuff was dying as he fought against LettuceK, the Soldiers.

FlameFrags.

Another push and he raises a brow at the feline, yet all she did was push, push, push. Insisting on moving. Wemmbu sighs, complies, and shrugs her bad mood off to enter the bigger room holding all the cells.

Eyes were following his movement, Loppezz' insults felt like curses, but Wemmbu didn't care, mind occupied with a new name.

FlameFrags.

Flame, who he fought alongside with, shared his stash with, planned and killed by the side of. Flame, who in the end of the day, couldn't see past their rivalry, his own title, and challenged him right after the fight.

Their rivalry would have continued to the bitter end, he knows. Until one of them died, possibly. So Wemmbu remembered the experiences, the moments, as the strongest and let go of the title. If Flame wanted the title more than any friendship, then Wemmbu would let him burn himself and watch from a safe distance away.

MinuteTech was right. He always was, wasn't he? He didn't know the End Guard much, besides housing Eggchan and helping those who need it. He was good like that, maybe that's why he didn't heed his warnings, all those times. Didn't listen, laughed away ignorant and foolish.

His throat clogged with words he won't be able to spit out. Words he'd never uttered with genuine feelings behind, had him choke in silence as he was brought through the Prison. Clawing at him, dragging him down, words bitter and disgusting as they burned.

Villain of his own story.

Wemmbu wants to visit the end. Wants to see Eggchan, MinuteTech, the vast space of void surrounding the little haven.

Instead, all he meets are flashes of gold and the side view of a certain prince.

Prince Zam didn't turn to him, looking away, but his presence was enough for Wemmbu to pause in his gait. He hadn't ever expected to see him once more, on the same height, the same position, it was… unexpected. Bizarre.

Zam didn't stare at him like Wemmbu did, rolling his eyes at the commentary from the other prisoners, maybe Loppezz' words, did Lettuce speak? Wemmbu didn't know who Zam was reacting to, but he didn't really listen to anyone either. To Zam it must have been a mere annoyance, maybe he was frustrated from being forced out of retirement (he knew that feeling too well) and away from Pangi.

But to Wemmbu, it was like an old wound becoming itchy once more, it was uncomfortable and he didn't want to stay there anymore.

Imprisonment with Zam. Back to the times they kept eyes on each other, to see who would strike first. Wary. Waiting.

Was it really his fault for feeling on edge, considering what happened last time? No matter the words they exchanged at the end, before separating, Zam was still too unpredictable to truly trust, especially with their history.

Now in the hands of the Law.

And, all things considered, if Zam were here, would that mean the likes of a certain Mafia Leader would be caught too? How many corrupted leaders did Wemmbu know? Squinting as he was brought to his cell, he wondered if Egg counted as a corrupted leader, with their second civilisation and all. Did that count? It did feel like power was going in over Egg's head, just a tad.

Were past Mafia members at risk, as well? Or, at least, those who joined willingly and took advantage of what the mafia offered. With the way the Law operated, Wemmbu did not think they would let anyone explain their actions in the mafia, not if they were seen as active threats.

With how Skyblock Civilisation ended, it wouldn't be too far off, to think Lettuce and Loppezz held onto their grudges as they climbed into their positions.

The iron door locks behind him, and he didn't even notice entering his own little space of joy.

Thinking, he found out, brought up a lot of concerns and similarities between Lettuce and himself. Wemmbu did not like those, because Lettuce mirrored him, kind of. Right back into the very beginning, to Zam's Empire. Allying himself with a King he'd thought worthy of it, and look where it got him, betrayed, demeaned, humiliated until he bit back and destroyed everything the man loved and gloated about.

This was Lettuce's way of payback to those who abused their power, in his own way. With justice and promises he was willing to fight for, to keep the safety of the server and the players a priority.

That's where the differences end, however. Because Wemmbu didn't promote himself for Kinghood (that was Egg) after getting his revenge, he didn't make promises to thousands of players and assembled an entire army to not only imprison potential threats based on assumptions and paranoia, but to further his control over the server to the point he had eyes everywhere.

Lettuce could gloat all he wanted, about his usage of strategy and smarts over brawn and force, but he was still a man in power and the mania would get him too, sooner than later.

That's how it always ended on the Unstable Universe.

"Get on the bed, Wemmbu! All of you, to your beds!" Loppezz' called out, leaving him to his devices after a pointed look. He couldn't help but give a baffled snicker, settling down on his flat bed, kicking his feet up, tail curling around his limb as he blows strands of hair from his face.

His back felt empty, wings twitching at the dull reminder. Those same wings, filled with holes and unable to fly on their own, miss the soft drag of yellow feathers and sunflower scent, warm no matter the climate. Like a blanket.

Familiarity in the most unpredictable times.

Prison life.

Home, sweet home.