knightmareaceblue

[knightmareaceblue]

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Ugh, Tumblr -_- I'm going to have to split this chapter in two. Consider this part one, and part two will be up in a jiffy.

Also, I have not yet seen the Victim episode, but I feel this is a good time to mention this will be non-canon compliant as of the Box. I'll add that to the tags later.

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The first rays of a new summer dawn trickled through the window, stretching across the tidy room until their warmth caressed Purple’s face. They stretched, yawned, and rose out of their bed the same way they did every morning. As if everything was perfectly normal.

As if there wasn’t a ghost sleeping in the next room over.

Shaking off the thought, Purple pulled themselves out of bed to begin their typical wake-up routine, basking in the early morning warmth before it could give way to the intense heat of midday. The rest of the house was blanketed in unusual stillness. The only sound perforating the blanket of calm was the sweet serenade of songbirds fluttering outside the window. Their music kept Purple’s mind still as they went through the same motions they did every day: select their clothing, make their bed, get dressed, grab their phone, do their hair. As they brushed back their violet locks, Purple couldn’t help but frown as they noticed dark shadows reflected under their eyes; testament to a night spent drifting in and out of torturous what ifs. Nowhere near as dark as the ones under Mango’s- King’s eyes, but certainly enough to concern the doddering Old Man.

Well, it was nothing a little make-up wouldn’t fix. They were probably a little out of practice, but Purple certainly remembered how to blend the right shade of concealer to hide any… unsightly blemishes. Their fingers drifted from their hair to their cheekbone to gingerly rub at the skin around their eye, then trailed down further to the ugly bruise that marred their face. Honestly, Purple was sorely tempted to hide the reminder of yesterday’s chaos too. But that would raise questions, and questions were the last thing Purple wanted right now.

So instead they performed one more quick check to make sure no hair was out of place, then made their way from the bedroom to the bathroom. The rest of the house was unusually still – Purple was an early bird, but Mango- KING’S abnormal sleep schedule usually had him up before the sun rose, so it was rare that Purple was the only one awake in the house.

Of course, before Mango didn’t have his real-

Purple pinched the skin on their wrist sharply at the thought. No. Bad Purple. They were supposed to be better than that now. With firm focus, Purple kept their eyes glued to the door of the bathroom across the hall and managed not to so much as glance at Gold’s door. It didn’t even occur to them that they’d been holding their breath in their effort to concentrate until they shut the door to the bathroom and exhaled deeply. Their arms pressed against the doorway felt… oddly heavy.

It was fine. Nothing some coffee wouldn’t fix. But first things first, Purple had to take care of their gross morning face. First they washed up, simple and easy. The sharp sting of the cold water had the added bonus of shocking the last dredges of drowsiness out of their brain, allowing them to focus on the task at hand. Dry face, mix concealer, apply in soft layers until the shadows under their eyes disappeared completely. Purple stared at their reflection for a long moment, then forced a smile.

…No, too big. Didn’t look natural. They tried again, and this time the smile on Purple’s face was smaller but brighter, with little dimples beginning to form around the edges. Much better. They nodded in approval before turning away from their reflection to return to the stillness of the house.

There was still no stirring from Gold’s room, so Purple crept past the Ochre family and into the living room, where their friends had spent the night. Sometime during their slumber Green, Blue, and Red had gotten tangled up into a mess of limbs on the floor, which was adorable enough to bring a much more genuine smile to Purple’s face, and well worth the risk of getting caught snapping a photo of the trio on their phone. Yellow had been forced to spend the night in the armchair, and was reclined back as far as the chair would let her. In the absence of the staff to hold on to, she’d instead somehow maneuvered her pillow from underneath her head into her arms, and was clinging to it with all her sleepy strength. Meanwhile Second, on the couch, had their fluffy blanket wrapped around them tightly, hiding their slumbering face from view. The only thing visible was their long mane of orange locks, which after a night of slumber had somehow managed to become even more wild than usual.

Purple sidled past their friends, smiling fondly after them, then turned to the kitchen and froze in place at the sight of the ruins. Ah, right. Somehow, in the midst of all the chaos of yesterday’s events, it had slipped Purple’s mind that the kitchen had been caught in a frantic electrical tornado.

Well, shoot. Where were they going to get their cup of morning coffee now?

A soft groan from behind them caused Purple’s ears to perk up. They spun around in time to see Second stirring within the blanket they’d burrito-ed themselves in, peering through bleary eyes up at the intruder on their slumber.

“Mm, Purple?” They grumbled, voice scratchy in their grogginess. From where they were standing Purple could see dark circles beginning to form under Sec’s eyes and a pallor tinge to their face. It seemed like Purple was not the only one to lose sleep that night.

“Sorry, Sec,” Purple whispered, doing their best to be mindful of their volume, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Second shook their head, the movement slow and uneven, “S’okay, I’ve been in and out all night anyways. Do you have any more blankets? Sorry, ‘m a little cold.”

Purple had already taken a step forward to check, but the full meaning of Second’s words suddenly hit them and they paused. Cold? They were cold? It may have been early morning, but it was also the middle of summer. The sun wasn’t even full up yet and it couldn’t have been cooler than 25 degrees Celsius. Warning bells rang in Purple’s ears, but they did their best to compose themselves as normally as possible as they fetched the house’s last spare blanket. Only delaying to check if the blanket was clean, Purple then brought it over to the couch, stepping carefully around the sleeping pile of tangled sticks to lay the blanket over Second. They sighed and snuggled into their pillow, eyes fluttering shut yet again, and Purple took this opportunity to lay their hand on Second’s forehead.

“Purple?” Yellow’s voice called from nearby. They didn’t respond this time, too focused on the task at hand, “Hey, Purple. Is something wrong?”

After a moment, Purple withdrew their hand, frowning as the warmth lingered against their palm, “Sec’s running a fever.”

“They’re sick?” Suddenly Yellow was sat straight up, her brow furrowed in clear worry. She quickly shifted her gaze from the couch to the friend pile on the ground, and unlike Purple she had no qualms about interrupting their peaceful slumber, “Guys, get up! Now! Sec’s sick!”

“Sick…?” Green repeated tiredly, his sleep addled brain struggling to process the concept. Blue was up in a heartbeat, quickly detangling herself from the others and climbing over both the couch and Purple to check for herself. Red and Green were a little slower to rise, taking the time to make sure their separated limbs were in their right places before rising to join Purple and Blue at Second’s side.

Blue hummed and hawed, before gradually withdrawing her hand as well, “They’re right.” An oddly haunted look crossed her face.

Even Red was gnawing at his own lip in worry, “But… Sec never gets sick!”

It was only natural that everyone would be worried after yesterday – especially since Second was only barely able to sit up on their own by the end of the night – but the immediate fear from everyone in the room was… concerning, to say the least. “It’s probably just from overexertion,” The violet stick tried to reassure their friends. None of them so much as looked at Purple, all focused on the slumbering stick on the couch, which didn’t ease the growing pit in Purple’s stomach. It was as if the anxiety was contagious, “I’m sure they’ll be fine-”

“You don’t understand,” Yellow piped up. Unable to hover as the others did, she leaned forward in the armchair with her shoulders tensed, “Sec NEVER gets sick. Never. Like, once we were exploring a snowy biome, and SOMEONE-” Though Yellow didn’t specify, Blue and Green glanced briefly towards Red before returning their attention to Second, “thought it would be a good idea to collapse our bridge and drop us straight into a frozen lake.”

“…well, the bridge shouldn’t have been so icy, then.” Red mumbled, as if that explained the thought process behind dropping himself and his best friends into deathly cold water.

Without so much as a glance to acknowledge Red’s assertion, Yellow continued as if he hadn’t said anything, “Even though we got changed and warmed up, like, immediately, we all get sick EXCEPT for Second. They had to play nurse to everyone else while we recovered. We all kind of assumed they were immune to illness after that.”

“You know,” Blue mused aloud as she tucked Second’s two blankets around them. “I think they probably were getting sick all this time, but their innate healing powers sped up their recovery so much that they never showed any symptoms,” She hummed gently under her breath for a beat, “But since their healing powers aren’t working…”

“What isn’t working?” Asked a familiar voice from behind, and the group turned around to find the Ochre family approaching. King, once again donning his crown, didn’t look the least bit tired for this early in the morning, which was normal for him. Mango and Gold, on the other hand, both trailed along like mindless zombies. They groaned and grumbled like zombies, too. The only thing missing was the mumbling call for braaiiins.

The gang briefly hesitated before Blue, with the air of a messenger about to be shot, answered, “Sec’s healing powers,” King’s brow furrowed in concern as she continued, “Not only are they not working, but Sec’s running a fever now.”

“Oh no,” Gold exclaimed softly, immediately shocked into full awareness. He moved past the two versions of his father to join the group in hovering over Second, taking a spot right next to Purple, “Is it bad?”

Pressure closed in on Purple’s heart as they observed Gold’s face, noting the worry lines that were creasing his forehead. It hadn’t even been half a day since he’d met everyone, and Gold already cared so… deeply. Like they’d all been best friends forever.

It would be so much easier, Purple mused, if Gold wasn’t so nice. If Gold was cold or stand-offish to them, they’d at least have a reason to feel so off around the kid. But of course the universe couldn’t grant them that. No, instead Gold had to be just the sweetest person, on top of being a master martial artist and a flourishing social butterfly. It was almost unfair. And the worst part was even though they knew how genuine Gold was being, it didn’t stop that sour sickness sloshing around inside them, burning every organ as it cried for violent release. Nor did any of that quench the strange desire to reach over and force those lines to smooth into serenity.

Thankfully, Purple was smart enough to only act on one of those instincts, and clasped Gold’s shoulder in a gentle attempt to offer some comfort. The sudden touch caused Gold’s eyes to snap up, meeting Purple’s gaze with clear surprise, though he quickly switched to a gentle smile that made guilt pool in Purple’s stomach to pair with the bitter resentment already burning them from the inside out. “Sec’s gonna be just fine,” They assured the nervous stick, “Trust me.”

Gold’s little smile grew, and Purple found their own growing to match it.

“So what are we supposed to do about this?” A voice cut through the moment, and both sticks turned to find Mango’s critical eye on the lot of them. “My expertise is mechanical engineering. I’m no doctor, and I doubt two years have changed that.” He cast a side eye towards King, who returned the look with a neutral gaze. “If there is something serious going on, they’re going to need-”

“If you’re about to suggest a hospital,” Green interrupted, his eyes narrowed in on Mango with thinly veiled distrust, “then forget it. We’re NOT taking Sec to one of those places.”

Mango folded his arms, staring down Green with the same look King would give Purple when they managed to successfully bypass his attempts to get them to do doddering housework. Credit where credit was due, Green wasn’t intimidated in the least, returning his glare with equal fervor. The air was electric with the spark of tension. Neither backed down.

King pushed himself between them, putting his hands on Green’s shoulders to push him away from King’s past self. He then turned his attention towards Mango, “Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you. Getting a professional involved would be best.” All four of the friend group exclaimed in protest, then were shortly after cut off by King raising a single hand in an obvious command of silence. “But this isn’t normal circumstances. If Second’s powers are malfunctioning, I highly doubt a doctor would be able to help any better than we could.”

“And we wouldn’t let you, anyways,” Yellow retorted sharply, angry eyes hidden behind the glare of her glasses, “We’re not about to let some stranger do whatever they want to Second without our supervision. THAT is not happening.”

Blue and Red nodded firmly in agreement. Both had moved to take defensive stances around the couch, prepared to protect their vulnerable friend from whatever may come. All the while Gold and Purple were caught in the middle, stuck between a rock of a friend group and Mango’s hard glare.

Then, with a huff, Mango relented. “Fine,” He agreed, and the others relaxed a little. His full attention then redirected to King, “If you’re going along with this, I assume that means you have a plan of some sort?”

King’s eyes shifted away. “My plan is to keep these children from charging out into the wild with an ill stick trying to avoid the hospital.”

“So that’s a no.” Mango responded, massaging a brow sore from furrowing too much.

Silence buzzed in the air between them as everyone wracked their brains for an answer to the pressing questions of ‘How do you heal healing powers?’, and honestly, Purple was stumped. They’d always thought they were good at riddles, but this one was just the tiniest bit out of their wheelhouse.

“Too bad we don’t know any experts,” Gold mumbled grumpily.

Like a bolt from the blue, Red shot up straight and gasped aloud as what could only be described as a burst of inspiration hit him “The Chosen One!” He cried, and Purple could hear the crack from Mango’s head spinning to stare at the excited stick, “They’ve got superpowers just like Second’s! We could ask them!”

“The Chosen One!?” Mango repeated incredulously, “You mean the Animated Terror?! The Burner of Bandwidth?! One half of the DEADLIEST duo of cyber-terrorists to have EVER razed the web?! THAT CHOSEN ONE?!”

Blue smiled sweetly, “Yeah, that guy.”

“No, wait, that’s actually a good idea.” Yellow piped up, stroking her chin in thought. Mango’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets. “Chosen One may be the only one who actually knows how Sec’s powers work. If we consult them, I bet they’ll know what to do.”

Gold’s eyes darted between them, confusion clear on his face. In a split second he’d pressed against Purple’s side, whispering conspiratorially, “Umm, how do your friends know a cyber-terrorist?”

A small twinkle of amusement lit up Purple’s eyes as they responded, “Oh, they’re Second’s dad or something.”

“Excuse me?!” Mango snapped around to direct his stare at Purple, and suddenly being in his line of fire cause the violet stick to flinch back. The bruise on their jawline suddenly ached, and Purple gripped at their shorts to keep themselves from scratching at it. A sudden pressure on their shoulder jolted their attention to Gold, whose hand offered offered grounding firmness. He smiled as their eyes met, and Purple couldn’t help but smile back.

Mango had a good kid.

“Well, it’s less they’re ‘Sec’s Dad’,” Yellow punctuated the words with large air quotes, “And more ‘Second exists because the Chosen One’s creator drew them and they inherited code from the Chosen One that brought them to life… somehow’.”

“They are ‘The Chosen One’s Return’,” Red noted with a hint of laughter in his voice. A mischievous smiled graced his lips. “Never really thought about what that meant until Sec’s powers came in.”

Twisting on his heels, Mango directed his burning gaze at King. “Did you know about this?”

“No one told me specifically,” Those words were accompanied with a sideways glance at Purple, cocked brow and everything. Purple matched his amused energy by playfully sticking their tongue out at the Old Man, “But I’d had a few theories on what they were the ‘Second Coming’ of. Nice to have one of them confirmed.”

“You… theorized about Second?” Green asked with a disturbed monotone.

“Of course,” King casually responded as he leaned against the wall, a teasing smile growing upon his face, “Purple and I gossip about all you kids, in fact. It’s one of our favourite pastimes.”

Purple’s face began to burn. Ooh, that traitor! What they theorized about the five’s crazy lives was between the two of them and nobody else! “Lies!” Purple immediately accused, hoping their face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. They quickly moved in between King and the friend group, who were staring at them like they were the star clown of this circus attraction. “That Old Man is nothing but a dirty liar! He- he doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s going senile!”

“Senile, am I?” King piped up with an air of amusement, sauntering past Purple and Gold to take a look at Second himself, “Well, that’s fine by me. Go ahead and put me in the old folks’ home. Of course, while I’m enjoying bingo, someone else will have to take care of the chores… so have fun scrubbing toilets, whelp.”

Cursors, Purple couldn’t come up with a comeback that wouldn’t end up with them doing more chores. Unwilling to concede quite yet, they crossed their arms and huffily turned away from the Old Man. From the corner of their eye they could see Gold giving his father a look, and swallowed past the dryness of their throat.

Right, they had that to worry about too. On top of squashing their own feelings and fixing whatever beef Mango had with them and figuring out what the heck was up with their friends and getting Second’s stupid powers back in order- Oh, speaking of which…

“Anyways, you guys know how to actually reach the Chosen One?” Purple asked.

“We… know where they live?” Blue answered with something of a shrug. “It’s on this cliff side with… all this… water? And these… trees? Umm…”

Red scratched his head, “Isn’t it south of the city?”

“There was this community of sticks with really thick head outlines.” Green pointed out. “It wasn’t too far from Chosen’s base.”

South… private community… trees and water… Purple spent the majority of their time in Minecraft for the past few years, so they were hardly an expert when it came to the structure of the city, but that sounded like-

“Oh! That sounds like the Avery Woods!” Gold exclaimed suddenly, pumping his arms in clear enthusiasm. All Purple could do was swallow back the words they were about to stay and ignore the bitter aftertaste, “It’s south of the city, and right by the ocean, and… big. Really, really big.”

“How big is it?” Red asked, stretching his arms out in comedic exaggeration. Were it not for the worried wrinkles around his eyes, Purple would almost think he wasn’t fully aware of the situation.

Nobody played along with Red’s sorry attempt to lighten the mood. King’s voice was carefully neutral as he answered, fully serious, “Several square kilometers – enough of an area that even with everyone searching, it would likely take days before we found the Chosen One’s abode – and that’s assuming they haven’t relocated.” A disheartening aura swept through the room, leaving everyone despondent, “Thankfully, you mentioned water. The only major body of water in or near the Avery Woods is the ocean, and it’s kind of easy to find. If someone can get to the ocean and walk along the cliff side, they’re bound to come across the Chosen One’s base eventually.” Everyone perked up along with the mood. “That still doesn’t answer the question of what we’ll do if they’ve relocated, but it’s the best lead we’ve got.”

“The only question now,” Yellow continued, “Is who’s going?”

Silence flooded the room, drowning everyone present with tension. Blue’s hands were in Second’s long mane, running through the locks in regular self-soothing motions. Neither Red nor Green seemed able meet King’s gaze anymore. Yellow looked between all of them, searching their faces while biting the inside of her lip before sitting back huffily. At their side, Purple could feel a slight increase in pressure as Gold leaned against them. His brow was furrowed as he stared straight ahead, lost in his thoughts. With everything that had happened, Purple couldn’t blame him.

Eventually, King cut through the silence with a long-suffering sigh, “I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ll go alone, the rest of you stay here.”

Ice shot through Purple’s veins. “You mean you’re going by yourself?”

“Yes,” King’s answered was tinged with teasing condescension, “That’s generally what the word ‘alone’ means.”

Thousands of thoughts spiraled through Purple’s mind at once, suffocating all rational thought with a singular, familiar fear. The warm hardwood under their feet became as icy cold as linoleum, and a rhythmic beating of beeps echoed endlessly in their ears. Clenching their shaking fists tight, Purple forced out every counterpoint that came to them, “But- but, you should at least have one person with you! If you get injured or something, you’ll be out in the woods by yourself! And everyone knows if a tree falls in the forest nobody hears it scream!” King’s nose wrinkled, and he opened his mouth to rebuttal, but Purple’s stream of rambles kept him from interrupting, “Plus, you could run into all sorts of wild animals out there! This time of year, mama bears are more likely to have cubs with them, and that increased the rate of fatal attacks by-”

“You’ve been oddly obsessed with bear attacks lately,” Noted the Old Man with slight tinge of suspicion in his voice, “Have you been staying up late watching weird documentaries again?”

...Oh, right. They weren’t supposed to do that anymore; not after the ninety minute presentation on why they should absolutely invest in tsunami preparation gear had ended with Mango King gingerly explaining that they don’t live in an area afflicted with tsunamis. He’d then strongly advised them to cut back on the late night doom binges, “Uh,” Purple’s scrambled mind ended up spitting out the very first thing that it came up with, “You can’t prove it in a court of law!”

The only response King graced them with was a long-suffering sigh.

Seeing the Old Man virtually unaffected by their logic, Purple then turned to the pathos arguments, “Come on, please, at least let me tag along!” They pleaded, “I-I’ll be quiet and I’ll do whatever you say-”

“Okay, now I KNOW you’re messing with me,” King huffed. His eyes met Purple’s, and something in them seemed to soften. “Look, kid, I get that you’re worried, but I’ll be fine. The Avery Woods are big, but the danger is minimal. Most of the documented animal inhabitants are small herbivores, and the few that would pose a threat can be easily outrun or outsmarted. I have my phone, so I can call for backup on the off chance I do get hurt. You have yours too, don’t you?” Absently, Purple’s hand went to the bulging pocket that stored their cellular device, and Purple nodded. “See? I’ll be just fine. The only real threat in those woods is the Chosen One,” King then directed a nervous gaze to Green and friends, still gathered around Second like a pack of protective wolves, and directed a question to them, “The Chosen One isn’t going to, you know, kill me on sight, are they?”

Red had the gall to shrug casually at this very valid fear, “Eh, probably not?” He sounded… not so sure.

“You’ll be fine,” Assured Yellow with far more confidence than her red companion. Her uninjured leg was slung leisurely across the arm part of the armchair, which left it dangling haphazardly in midair, “Chosen One won’t do anything to hurt one of Sec’s friends They’re a little weird, but they do care about Sec.”

As if explicitly disagreeing, Green let out a huffy snort.

Yellow raised her brow at the musician, “Something you want to share with the class?”

For a moment, Green was entirely silent. His expression was deadpan, eyes unfocused in just the right way to suggest that his mind was somewhere high up there in the clouds. After a sufficiently uncomfortable amount of time, Green casually replied, “Nah, I’m good.”

This got Yellow humming curiously, but beyond that she didn’t dignify Green with a response.

“...My point is,” The Old Man got them back on track, directing Purple’s attention back to him, “That I can handle this. I’ll be fine, the only thing I need from you is to stay here and look after Gold.” His eyes, with the same bizarre softness that made Purple feel so vulnerable, stared directly into their own. “Think you can do that for me, bud?”

Purple was nodding before King could even finish, “Of course.”

A gentle smile, tired but full of affection, was Purple’s reward, “Thanks, kiddo.” He then tussled Purple’s hair with a strong, gentle hand. All Purple could think to do was playfully smack the hand off of them and hope their face didn’t look as warm as it felt.

If the Old Man’s chuckling was anything to go by, it most likely was.

“Now, you’ve got everything you need?” Purple asked as seriously as they could with their freshly combed hair a mess and their face lit up like a neon sign, “You have your cell-phone, but you might want to bring a water bottle, and something energizing to eat, like a granola bar or trail mix. We can put something together real- Oh, no, wait,” They frowned, “Kitchen blew up.”

That darned Old Man couldn’t quite keep the mirth out of his voice. “If you’ll remember correctly, someone pressured me into making an emergency wilderness survival kit.” The backpack that contained said kit was stored on the bottom shelf of King’s bookcase, which he proceeded to pull out and toss onto the nearby table, “It’s more than enough for a day of hiking the coastline.”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Purple stroked their chin as they pretended to mull the situation over, “I seem to recall someone else saying that it was a ‘waste of a perfectly good afternoon’ putting that thing together,” With a smile, Purple shrugged, “They seemed very adamant that we’d never need it, so…”

All the Old Man could do was shake his head, “Okay, okay. You were right and I was wrong. Happy?”

Purple put on their smuggest smile, just for King. “Hey, you said it, not me.” It was easy to focus on the light ribbing, the easy teasing that came so naturally to them, and not the dread still pooling in the pit of their stomach.

But as King swung the rough sack onto his back, the unease compounded exponentially. Its piercing claws desperately dug through Purple’s mind, trying to pull out all the bad thoughts that Purple had so carefully been burying throughout the entire morning. King took a quick inventory of the pack. Purple expected seeing the various survival tools might pull the breaks on their anxiety, but instead each tool conjured a corresponding thought about all the dangerous things out there in the woods that could take away Purple’s- the Old Man. And none of that even accounted for the Chosen One.

“Okay, that should be everything,” King noted, swinging the bag onto his back. He looked past Purple to Mango. “Keep a close eye on Second. If you think they need it, I have fever reducer in the usual place. Probably.”

“Probably?” Repeated Mango with a quirk of his brow.

“I tend to only buy things like that ‘as needed’ now,” Revealed King. Purple couldn’t help but tug at the fabric of their shorts. When one was seeking suicidal retribution, they tended to neglect more minor parts of their lives, like a proper livelihood. For the past few months while he’d been revitalizing his repair business and regaining the trust of his clients, the Old Man’s plate was always much sparser than the one he’d give Purple. It was only more recently that King had become a bit less thrifty, going out of his way to get Purple little gifts, like books and funny accessories.

Mango hummed a little, leveling King with a disapproving gaze that made Purple’s heart jolt reflexively, “Right. I’ll keep an eye on things here, then,” Mango’s gaze then fell to the pack crowding around the sick stick on the couch. Now that the business of who was fetching the Chosen One was settled, they’d all resumed fretting over Second with a little too much attention. The fact that they were getting so worked up over a simple fever was honestly worrying Purple far more than the fever itself.

The only response King provided to him was a nod. “Take care, kids.” He called over his shoulder as he opened the door. With the light silhouetted around him, King’s colour seemed to shift darker and bluer for just a fraction of a second, and Purple’s breath caught in their throat.

“…Dad, wait,” Gold’s sudden call pulled both King and Mango’s attention without effort. He had, at some point, moved away from Purple and started leaning against the wall, and now he was bolting forward to meet King in the middle. Mango’s eyes narrowed in on the two.

Seeing the determination on Gold’s face, Purple wondered if Gold might ask to come along, despite the discomfort of yesterday’s revelations. They wondered if King wanted him to, from the look in his eyes.

Instead of opening that can of worms, Gold wrapped his arms around King, burying his face in the Old Man’s chest. King was too stunned to respond immediately, but after a moment his own arms awkwardly lowered to return the embrace. “Stay safe,” Gold’s wish fell from his lips as softly as the morning breeze. The request brought a tired, genuine smile to King’s face.

Come on, Purple, begged something deep inside them, its nagging itch making Purple’s hands twitch. Go on and give your own hug. If the Chosen One or some other random danger took him out, this could be the last time you see the Old Man. Hug him. Hug him and thank him while you still have the chance-

“Of course,” King promised, his hands running a soothing circle into Gold’s back before reluctantly retreating, “And you do the same. Take care of Purple for me, alright?” Once Gold nodded affirmatively, King gave one last wave to the others inside and then stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Coward.

Wordlessly Purple walked passed Gold, who briefly reached out to touch Purple’s shoulder before the violet stick slipped away. They watched from the front window as the Old Man hike away from the house, from them, without a single glance back. Slowly he became smaller and smaller in the distance, and Purple watched the entire way, until the tiny dot that was King disappeared over the horizon.

There had to be something they could do to make sure he came home. Were they really about to let him go after a cyber-terrorist all on his own…?

Mango’s voice behind them, issuing instructions or suggestions or whatever, was nothing more than a buzzing in the background. The others were scurrying about behind them, but Purple paid them no mind. Their thoughts began to race as their eyes stayed glued to the spot where King had vanished. They could tail him, Purple realized. It’d be easy, as easy as pie. Granted, Purple had no clue what they’d do if King ran into any trouble, but they were smart. They could figure it out. And it wasn’t like they didn’t know where he was going, so…

THUD. “YOU BROUGHT THAT TRASH INTO MY HOUSE?!”

The unexpected noise jolted Purple out of their thoughts. It came from behind them, and the young stick quickly snapped their attention backwards to gawk at its source. The first thing that caught their eye was Blue, her mouth agape, pinned against the wall by her shirt. Mango’s tightly clenched fists shook as he kept her held up, eyes wild with blind rage. Shouting came from various corners of the room as each of Blue’s friends reacted with the expected vigor. Though initially stunned, it didn’t take long for Blue to bounce back. She gritted her teeth and wrapped her hands around Mango’s wrist, using his larger size as leverage to swiftly kicked upward. Her foot planted itself into Mango’s face with a satisfying smack. Mango’s grip loosened, allowing Blue to drop to the ground like a stone as he stumbled backwards. A weak orange hand suddenly reached out and tugged at the fabric of Mango’s pants. Under ordinary circumstances, such a pathetic grab would’ve easily been shaken off by even the most novice of sticks. But Mango, as disoriented as he was, didn’t even see Second reach out, and so he didn’t register the tugging at his clothes until he was knocked off balance, where a single toss of a pillow from the armchair had him falling to the ground with a hard, painful sounding thump.

Once upon a time, King had comforted Purple after they’d lost a sparring contest with the gang by confiding that he, too, was not much of a fighter. Every battle he’d ever won, claimed the Old Man, he’d won through quick wit and fast thinking. Purple hadn’t quite been able to believe him at the time. Who would? But seeing the Old Man waste time stumbling instead of righting himself and losing track of his surroundings so easily, suddenly the idea of him once being a clumsy sod didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Yellow glared firmly at Mango, her arms braced on the sides of the chair as though to launch herself at him. Second, with sweat beading on their forehead and mildly heavy breathing, spat out, “Calm down, you-!” before breaking down into a violent coughing fit.

At this point Purple and the others had reached their sides. Gold took point, standing over his father with crossed arms and the type of scowl that screamed ‘not disappointed, just angry’. Second’s coughing fit was eased by Green’s gentle hands running soothing circles on their back, while Red and Purple flocked to Blue’s side.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” She waved off their concern with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“What happened?” Purple demanded, doing their best to keep their tone steady even as their heart tried to beat through their chest.

Poor Blue scratched the back of her head, sheepishness marring her normally calm expression, “Um, I guess that was my bad. I volunteered to make breakfast, and when he asked how I’d do that with the kitchen being, you know, totaled, I told him I’d use the stuff in the basement, and…”

Ah. So he found out they had Minecraft in the house. Shoot, that really should have been brought up earlier. This probably wasn’t the worst way Mango and Gold could have found out about King and Purple’s dabbling into illegal game smuggling, but it definitely wasn’t the best way, either.

“Sorry,” Blue finished off with downcast eyes.

Was Blue talking? Dang it, Purple should’ve been paying more attention. She might have said something important. But still, Purple took the time to give her a calming, sweet smile as they reassured her, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault.”

They gave her a brief pat on the shoulder before turning their attention back to the wild beast that was Mango, whose foaming rage was only slightly pacified by Gold’s presence.

“They brought MINECRAFT into the HOUSE, Gold!” Mango was desperately explaining to the stone-faced stick that stood as a barrier between him and others, “That irresponsible- he let the thing that KILLED you into our HOME!”

“And you don’t think that freaks me out too?!” Gold snapped back, his arms flying outward in a full display of fury. One of his hands was clutched around a rattling bottle; the fever reducers, if Purple had to guess. Each bold display of anger from the golden stick was accompanied by an undermining clattering not unlike maracas. “I’m the one who actually DIED, Dad, but I’m not going around attacking people!”

When the word ‘died’ fell from Gold’s lips, Mango’s entire expression changed. The rage left him, along with any energy he might have gotten from last night’s sleep, leaving him to collapse to the floor like the broken old man he was. Purple could feel their heart pounding in their throat at the sight; like this, he was nigh indistinguishable from King.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m…” The whimpering utterance got Purple to actually wince. Not the words themselves, per se, but the raw, broken tone that they’d been spoken in. Though they’d been living together for some time, Purple had only heard that tone of voice once; just after the Final Battle in the Nether.

They’d hoped to never hear him sound like that again.

“I know, dad,” Gold consoled, kneeling down to sit on his toes next to his fallen father. One hand reached out to cut off the suppressed sobs from the stick in front of him with soothing circles, the other extended towards the nearby coffee table to put down the bottle of medicine. Once both hands were free, Gold began to focus completely on comforting his shivering dad, “I know. But you can’t just lash out like this. It isn’t fair, especially since they’ve done so much to help us.”

For a long moment, the Old Man was silent and still, leaving a ringing silence of tension in the air. Purple tried to keep their restlessness to themselves, but couldn’t quite help bouncing on their heels. From the corners of their vision Purple could make out the others standing stock still and alert, like prey on the alert for their predator. Then finally, at long last, Mango spoke, “You’re right,” He said, his voice dragged down low with the weight of his shame. Using Gold as a crutch, Mango forced himself upwards again and looked over at the rainbow of disapproval his rage had left in its wake. “I’m… sorry.”

He sounded sincere enough, at the very least. Sheepish hands scratched at the back of his head, which was kept ducked down to avoid making eye contact with any of the kids he’d offended.

Purple bit their tongue, torn emotions keeping them mute. Second, grouchy from being forced awake in their sickened condition, huffed grumpily and collapsed back against their pillow, “I guess it’s fine for now, but I’m going to make you sorry-” A cough interrupted their attempted threat, “If you ever attack my friends again-!” More coughing, eased only by Green’s gentle touch as he soothed their anger with a consoling hand on their head.

Mango, in his first smart move of the morning, nodded politely in agreement to Second’s threat, “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

With the danger passed, Yellow had plopped back into her armchair and crossed her arms grumpily. She was more than happy to speak aloud what Mango wouldn’t, “Dude, I’ve seen wet tissue paper that’s more intimidating than you right now.”

A flicker of outrage flashed through Second’s eyes for a brief moment. They tried to sit up, but halfway through the attempt their arms gave out and sent them crashing back into their pillow again.

Green, still sat by their side, frowned and fretted over them, “Come on, dude. Stay down and let us handle this.”

“But-” The ill stick tried to protest.

Their efforts were in vain, as Red and Blue both backed Green up with firm instances and pleading eyes. Again, Green told them, “We’ve got this,” and tucked them under the covers yet again. With no other option, Second finally relented and settled down, though it seemed sleep had lost its hold over them, leaving no option for Second but to watch the others from their place on the couch.

Mango looked briefly to Gold before, with his approving nod, stepped forward and approached the friend group. Purple moved to stand defensively next to Blue, taking the other’s hand in a silent reminder that they were with her.

The silence stretched between them like a chasm.

At last, Mango broke through the tension with a simple but succinct, “I really, truly am sorry.” Though he was speaking broadly, all his attention was focused on Blue. Which, to be fair, was exactly where it should have been. “This Minecraft food… it’s safe to eat?”

“Yes, one hundred percent!” Confirmed Blue confidently, “We eat this stuff all the time at home. There’s still the risk of grease fire, but as long as Green’s not cooking, we’ll be good.”

With exaggerated frustration, Green shouted to the heavens, “You drop ONE doughnut and suddenly you’re the worst cook!”

“But you are, though.” Red pointed out. Something about his blunt delivery had Purple in stitches.

Green snorted and stuck up his nose, but spoiled the bit with a laughing smile. Blue patted him on the back before returning her attention to Mango, “Like I said earlier, I can handle breakfast all on my own. Actually, after everything, it’d be nice to just unwind a little bit.”

Purple felt that. They felt that so hard.

The group broke apart again. Each one had their own assigned task, it turned out: Red was gathering bedding to wash, Green was tidying up after everyone, and Blue, as promised, retreated to the basement to prepare food for everybody. Gold watched after Blue as she vanished for a long moment, almost long enough for Purple to reach out and ask after his well-being, before he snatched up the medication and handed it to Mango. The elder stick took it, but shook his head and calmly explained that Second needed food before they could give them any medicine. His face was already starting to turn reddish blue from its violent introduction to Blue’s foot.

Purple’s stomach turned at the sight. And that was just Blue. If King wasn’t careful, and his meeting with the Chosen One went south…

A scenario came to Purple’s mind unbidden: King, with a burning scar to match the bruise on Mango’s face. A smear of blood dribbling from his mouth being wiped away by his bruised up arm. Towering over him was the dark silhouette of the Chosen One, red eyes glowing against the shadows. They would hold out a palm, from which a plume of fire sprouted, illuminating their face. You shouldn’t have come here alone, The Chosen One would say in their deep, villainous voice. Maybe if you’d brought someone with you, you’d be able to go home to your (children) child alive. And then, in a flash of flames, King’s life would be extinguished.

Shivers ran down Purple’s spine at the thought. That couldn’t happen. That wouldn’t happen. Purple wouldn’t let it. Glancing around one more time to verify that everyone’s attention was otherwise occupied, Purple began taking slow, cautious steps backwards towards their room. It wasn’t hard to slip through the cracks when things got chaotic. Experience had taught Purple that all they needed to do was stay silent and calm, and they could escape the notice of even the most seasoned-

“Purple.”

Freezing at the sudden call, Purple forced themselves to slowly, slowly turn around, so as not to arouse any further suspicion. The fact that it was Mango’s voice only heightened Purple’s sense of anxiety. Desperately Purple tried to wrangle their scattered, racing thoughts. It was fine. He probably had some chore for them to do. Purple could take care of it real quick, and then skip out the back. No big deal, it was no big deal.

“Yeah?” They answered with a slight crack in their voice that caused Purple to cringe on the inside.

If Mango noted it, he paid it no mind. Instead, much like King before him, he got straight to the point, “There’s something… important I need to talk to you about.”

Oh. Purple’s heart stopped. A million theories ran through their mind about why Mango would want to have a private conversation with them. Maybe he was scrounging for more information, to find out if there was anything else King was hiding from him, and Purple would have to choose between upsetting him or betraying King. Or maybe he wanted them to answer for the chaos their friends had caused, or- or maybe-

Maybe he’d kick Purple out. Remind them that this was his house and his room and his life and Purple was nothing more than an intruder, a cheap replacement for a dead child that was no longer dead, and Purple would be out on the streets and all alone again…!

“Uh, maybe later!” Insisted Purple, hands held out to signal for Mango to stop, “I need to change my sheets and clean out your room- so we can move Second to an actual bed. And I don’t think anyone wants Minecraft stuff on the main floor right now, so…”

The logic made Mango hum, but he still pushed, “It won’t take long-”

“In that case, it can wait until everything’s settled down!” Purple reasoned. They could feel the hairs on the back of their neck tingling. A tight knot was forming in their lungs already.

“Really, it will only take a minute.”

Please, no. Not yet, they weren’t ready, please-

“Dad, they said later.” Gold interrupted snappily. Like a guardian angel he appeared at Mango’s side, suddenly grabbing on to his sleeve to pull him away from Purple, “Whatever it is, it can wait until King Dad gets back.”

Although surprised, Mango tried to protest, albeit far more weakly, “But-”

“It can wait.” This time Gold was much firmer in his tone of voice, and that, at last, got Mango to back off.

“...Alright, then.” He agreed at last, and although the dismissal of the topic didn’t dismiss all the built up anxiety it brought up, it did bring Purple a sense of relief, “We’ll save this conversation for later.”

With that the discussion was officially shelved, and Mango was called away by the sound of Green shouting a request for garbage bags. Purple exhaled sharply, releasing a breath they hadn’t been aware they’d been holding, attracting Gold’s attention again in the process. “Hey,” He greeted, “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, uh-huh.” Purple affirmed with a confidence they definitely did not feel, “I’m fine. Just a little… worried about my friend.” It was the easiest excuse Purple could come up with at the moment and, in a way, wasn’t even a lie. They were just referring to a different friend than Gold might initially expect, “I’m, uh, going to straighten my room up so we can move Second in there. It’s a bit of a mess, though, so it may take a bit. But I can definitely handle it myself. Just… save me a plate?”

Gold’s eyes scanned them up and down, staying silent for long enough for Purple’s racing mind to wonder if he suspected anything, before Gold grinned and gave Purple a cheerful thumbs up, “Sure! You got it! I’ll make sure we leave you some grub!”

A weight fell off of Purple’s shoulders. They matched Gold’s smile and echoed his thumbs up gesture, “Thanks! I’ll see you later, then.”

With that Gold waved them off, and Purple gleefully retreated back to their- to the Old Man’s room. In complete contrast to what they’d just told Gold, the room was depressingly sparse. They had a closet to store clothing in, a table with a mirror to prepare for the day, and a bed that Purple supposed belonged to King at one point, though it seemed a little on the small side for such a tall stick. It wasn’t like Purple had much stuff to add when they’d moved in, anyways. They had some clothes, a toothbrush that King had insisted on replacing basically immediately, their collection of flowers and accessories, and, most relevantly, a backpack. Purple picked it up and briefly assessed their own emergency supply on the inside. Granola bars, a water bottle, their elytra, two rockets, some medical supplies… some of their supplies had since drifted to King’s own, and though they’d meant to replace them, Purple never ended up getting around to it. Oh well. It was too late for that now.

Everything they could prepare was already taken care of. Purple briefly patted their pocket to check that their phone was still there. Once they were sure they were ready Purple made their way to the back of the room, to the window where sunlight streamed in unobstructed; the rays warming Purple’s face as they stood in front of it. Twitching fingers reached forward to grip at the edge of the window. With sweaty palms Purple gripped tightly and pulled upward, allowing the gentle breeze to carry the fresh scent of freshly cut grass and morning dew to their face. They inhaled, and pulled their leg over the sill of the window, pulling themselves through-

And the door behind them burst open in a sudden explosion of noise. “AHA!” Proclaimed Gold, his face lit up like a Christmas tree, “I knew it!”

The sudden appearance of Gold caught Purple off guard, causing them to lose their balance and topple out the window and on to the damp grass. A small groan escaped their lips as the impact registered.

Unaware of the chaos he’d caused, Gold stuck his head out of the window after them, looking at them like he’d been told Halloween had just come early. “I knew you were going to try and sneak out!”

Oh, damn it all to the Recycling Bin! Purple picked themselves up off the ground, not even bothering to brush the dirt and grass off of their clothes as they scrambled for an excuse. “W-wait! I know it looks bad, but- but you know your dad’s an idiot, and if I’m not there to look after him, he’s going to get himself killed, so please don’t tell-!”

“Who’s telling?” Gold replied cheekily. “I’m coming with you.”

Somehow Gold had managed to pick the one option that was even worse than stopping them. “That is a TERRIBLE idea!” Purple proclaimed, “If you go missing, your dad is going to flip! And- and he won’t notice me going out, but he’ll definitely notice if you weren’t here! And besides, I promised King I’d take care of you! That means I have to keep you safe!”

“But then who’s keeping you safe?” Argued the golden child, little tidbits of his father’s aggressiveness seeping into his tone. “King Dad told me to take care of you too! As your big brother, it’s my responsibility to protect you!”

Any argument that Purple could’ve come up with died on their tongue with that single word, “Brother…?”

“Well, yeah,” The fight in Gold entirely left him, leaving him with nothing but positivity and, if Purple looked closely, a hint of anxiety, “My dad’s taking care of you now. That basically makes us siblings.”

Oh. “I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Admitted Purple, dazed at the mere idea. From a young age their family had been fragmented and unstable. Sometimes it had felt like they’d barely had parents growing up, what with the separate issues both their Mama and Pops had gone through. Siblings had been out of the question entirely.

“And that’s why I’m here!” Cheered Gold, already crawling out the window after Purple. Before the violet stick could even think to begin to protest, Gold hopped out and threw his arm around Purple’s shoulder. “To show you the ropes! As siblings, it’s our job to keep our idiot dad from doing idiot things. Like, you know, charging into the den of a terrorist all by himself.” Gold scratched the back of his head, and it suddenly occurred to Purple: Oh. They were probably scared about King too. Of course they were. No matter how mad he was about what his father had done, King was still his dad. It simply couldn’t be helped.

Purple couldn’t stop a little smile from forming on their face.

“So, we’ll go together,” Gold decreed, “I know there’s a risk, there’s always a risk, but… I want everyone to get out of this okay. So, please? I don’t like the idea of you going it alone, and-”

That was the last straw. Purple wasn’t sure if it was the idea of going alone that triggered it, or the genuine concern that Gold was showering them with, but they could feel their resistances gradually melting away. It was a bad idea. Purple knew it was a bad idea, and everything inside of them was screaming at them to say no. But…

“-and, and, in addition to being an accomplished fighter,” While Purple had been lost in thought, Gold had continued his attempt to persuade Purple to let him come along, “I am also a proficient jumper, and can leap sooo far-!”

Gold’s voice was rising in volume as he went on, and at this point he was all but shouting. Purple jumped forward and slapped their hands over Gold’s mouth to put the noise to a stop before they attracted… unwanted attention. “Okay, okay.” Purple conceded at last. “You can come. But ONLY if you promise to listen to whatever I tell you, and to run if things get messy. Got it?”

Unable to respond verbally, Gold nodded. A spark of excitement lit up his eyes.

If this decision came back to haunt Purple, they were going to kill this kid, King be damned. Once Purple removed their hands, Gold squealed excitedly and hopped up and down in place, smiling from ear to ear. His volume was, thankfully, much lower this time. “Okay, c’mon, we gotta get moving before someone realizes we’re gone!” His hand found Purple’s, gripping it with firm conviction, “Let’s be on our way, little sib!”

Affection wrapped around Purple’s heart like a warm embrace. King really did have an amazing- wait.

“Hold up, why am I the little sibling?!” The realization struck Purple suddenly, like a bolt from the blue. This wasn’t even the first time Gold had said that! “I’m older than you!” That’d be true even without the two year time difference, albeit by only a few months.

“Maybe, but I was dad’s kid first!” Gold’s words were spoken with a teasing tone as he continued to drag Purple along, “So that makes me the big brother!” This was accompanied by Gold playfully sticking his tongue out at Purple.

Well, if Purple was stuck in the role of little sibling, they might as well play the part. In a single quick movement they hooked their elbow around Gold’s neck and drove their knuckles into his scalp. A high-pitched squeal escaped Gold as he mimed pulling away from Purple’s grasp. He wasn’t serious about it – Purple wasn’t weak, per se, but there was no way they’d be able to hold down a silver ranked fighter if he truly wanted to escape. Affectionate laughter bubbled up out of him like smoke from a warm hearth. Not wanting to waste too much time, Purple released Gold and raced ahead of him.

It was so easy to fall into the joy of this newfound kinship with Gold that the dread caused by vibrations crawling from their pocket to their head caught them entirely off-guard, like a bucket of cold water. With a single hand Purple signaled for Gold to halt as they pulled their phone from their pocket and noted, with increasing trepidation, that the notification was for a text message. They looked to Gold, who matched their expression with one of equal unease, before inhaling deeply and unlocking their phone to view the message.

Flute Guy: WTH r u 2 doing????

Purple looked back towards the house, spotting a familiar silhouette in the window staring out at them. Swallowing audibly, they spared a glance towards a clearly nervous Gold and gave him a reassuring smile. Though they themselves felt a hint of nerves, it was a bit relieving that it was Green who caught them. Green would understand.

He always understood.

Me: Don’t tell.

Flute Guy: r u serious? Old Man’s gonna flip when he realizes u 2 r gone!

Me: Don’t call him an old man, he’s not that old.

Flute Guy: Ur kidding, right?

Me: Look.

Me: I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have to make sure King’s okay! You know how it is, I can’t lose another

Me: I can’t lose him, Green.

Purple could hear Gold bouncing on his feet. Figuring it was just impatience, they ignored it.

Flute Guy:...Fine

Flute Guy: Ill try n cover 4 u

Me: I love you SO much!!! You’re like the greatest person ever!!!

Me: <3 <3 <3

Flute Guy: Choke and die

Flute Guy: If he finds out im ratting on u. Not getting in2 trouble for ur idiot self

Me: That’s fine. Just tell him Gold and I are cleaning together, and that Gold asked for space. That should keep him at bay.

Me: Luv u!!!! Muah!

Flute Guy: -_-’ Don’t die

With Green’s blessing lifting their spirits, Purple turned back to Gold with a vibrant grin, “We’re good, let’s go!” and taking his hand. Gold had a soft frown on his face, the kind Purple knew was born from fear for his father, so they did their best to give him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry! With us looking out for him, your dad is gonna be just fine! I promise!”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Gold offered a timid smile back. One marred with worry and fear, but brightened by hope. The sight of it fueled the well of determination in Purple. For the first time in their life, they had something to protect. Something worth protecting. They wouldn’t let (their) this family down!

--------------------

Cooking was different for everyone. For Green and Yellow, it was just the best way to get delicious sustenance. Red saw it as another fun group activity, something they could do together, and if Purple’s comments about King’s lessons were anything to go by, that was how they saw it, too. To Second, it was a self-described ‘labor of love’ – not something they enjoyed, per se, but something they didn’t mind doing if it put a smile on their friends’ faces.

And for Blue, cooking was a comfort.

Every part of her body was engaged: arms stretched to gather ingredients, hands steadily adding just the right amount to her mixing pail, feet poised to quickly pivot her in whatever direction she needed. Any noise from the outside world was muted; the only sounds down here were her own movements and the swishing of the newly made Redstone washing machine Red and Green had created for laundry. Ingredients were laid out for her atop the newly minted crafting table. With the trapdoor set and Reuben curled up on a pillow with a full belly, Blue was finally alone with her thoughts.

She could take a breath…

“Guys, I dunno…” Sec’s dull eyes, lacking the familiar light of joy and creativity that they’d always been bursting with, wouldn’t meet her own. “I’m still pretty new at this…” If they could just remind Second how amazing they are, how loved they are, then maybe the shroud of fear that had hung so heavy on their shoulders would finally lift; maybe the sad, small stick shrinking into themselves would transform back into the strong, bright Sec that Blue had always known. “...and I don’t want to mess anything up…” And then they’d have their best friend back. Green knew what he was doing; all Blue had to do was follow his lead, and they’d show Sec there was nothing to be afraid of anymore!

…And measure out the flour, pouring it into a cup until it overflowed and leveling it out with a knife clutched too tightly…

Their breathing was quick and shallow, like they’d pushed themselves too hard and their body was starved for oxygen. Electricity, once dancing delicately across their skin and through their hair, now surged violently and randomly across their shaking body. Was it shocking them? Blue hoped against hope that they couldn’t feel it. “I can fix it, I can fix, I can fix it…!” Fell repeatedly from Sec’s lips as their shaking arm stretched out towards the broken picture. Second’s eyes were wide and wild, like a scared animal, and focused on the picture as though it were a predator and Second, its prey. They desperately pulled at their hair as the panic completely consumed them, “I CAN FIX IT…!” And then the kitchen exploded.

…And reach across the kitchen counter, hand fumbling around as she struggled to get hold of one of the eggs she’d laid out…

Hand in hand with Red and Green, Blue burst through the wall of wind to find Second floating dead ahead of them, hands pulling at their hair and gasping for every breath. The emerald shine of Second’s powers had completely overtaken their eyes, transforming a normally lively stick into a freakish ghoul. The sight of it stunned Blue into halting momentarily. To see Second – strong, bold Sec, who always looked out for them – looking so scared… it twisted Blue’s heart into knots, freezing her in place until Green’s hand yanking away from her jolted Blue awake. She watched as he ran forth without care to wrap his arms around Sec. Seeing how the contact jolted Second out of their petrified state spurred Blue forth, racing to follow Green, Red, and Yellow’s leads as used herself as an anchor, to bring their Sec back to them.

…and finally take hold of one of the eggs, shakily bringing it up to the edge of the mixing pail and tapping it against the side a little too lightly. The shell held firm, so Blue tapped it again. The shell held firm…

Blue groaned as she struggled to lift herself off of the hard linoleum, legs aching in protest as her old burn wounds began to ache. All of that fell to the background, however, as she forced her eyes open to the sight of Sec lying lifelessly on the ground ahead; their limbs frightfully limp, their chest horrifyingly still. Blue’s body moved faster than her mind, forcing her on her feet in spite of her protesting legs, and driving her forward to Second’s side. As she jabbed her fingers into the side of Second’s neck, a single thought replayed over and over again in her mind: Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, PLEASE don’t be dead..!

…so Blue smashed the egg down one final time, and it exploded into a gooey mess of liquid grossness all over her hand. Cursing quietly, Blue hopped away from the bowl and wiped her hand off on a nearby rag. Her breath escaped in quick, haggard huffs as she noted how her hands still shook.

A sudden pressure on her leg, too gentle to irritate her old wounds, jolted Blue out of her panicked state. She looked down to see sweet old Reuben nuzzling up to her. Upon noticing that he finally had her attention, Reuben squealed happily and redoubled his efforts, insistently demanding Blue’s attention. Blue giggled and, having no choice, gave in and lavished everyone’s favourite pig with generous pats and belly rubs. The distraction gave Blue’s mind a chance to wind down. Her thoughts slowed, her breath quieted. It only took a minute of Reuben time for Blue’s mind to completely calm.

With one final deep breath, Blue picked herself up and returned to her cooking. She took a singular egg and cracked it expertly against the side of the pail, breaking it in one go. Then repeated the process for the second needed egg.

As she began to mix together the ingredients, Blue allowed her thoughts to drift. Everything that happened yesterday… it was scary. Blue could admit that. What had begun as an attempt to help Second shake off the post-kidnapping funk had instead turned into a near death experience. When Second had been lying there on the floor, still as stone and pale as ice… for a heart stopping moment, Blue had really thought Sec might have died. The relief that had flooded her when her stuttering fingers had found Sec’s pulse was indescribable. But even though they were alive, they were still suffering so much, being in so much pain they weren’t able to sit up, and then waking up to their first ever fever…

Blue’s mixing arm came to halt as she glared into the mixture as though it were personally responsible for all that had gone wrong. When her intimidating glower failed to make any difference to the batter, she sighed and set it aside for a brief moment to stick a sugar bucket into the furnace, taking another break to reassure Reuben with more pats, and then returned her attention to the batter. Even pours made perfect circles on the cooking surface, and Blue took hold of her golden shovel as she continued her line of thought.

Of course, what happened to Second had been terrifying, but they hadn’t been the only ones hurt in yesterday’s panic. Poor Yellow was left with a twisted ankle, unable to get up off King’s armchair without aid or incredible pain. And that wasn’t even counting poor Green. With all the panic over Second’s fever, even King had seemed to forget about Green’s likely concussion, but Blue had been paying a bit more attention since she’d overlooked him yesterday, and found that Green was spacey and out of balance all morning. He was hiding it well, putting up a front when he thought people were looking, but when they weren’t Green would let the mask slip just enough for Blue to catch sight of the fog beginning to cloud his eyes; or the way he’d support himself on whatever was nearby, as though he could barely keep himself standing.

Blue couldn’t afford to be negligent. As bad off as Second was, she’d lose all her friends if she let herself get too caught up in only one of their problems. From now on, Blue would have to keep a closer eye on Green and Yellow… and probably Purple too. The worst wound they had was the bruise on their chin, thankfully, but the constant arguments between Mango and King combined with the unexpected stress of having two new housemates was certainly a lot for anybody. Blue would have to make time to talk it out with them at some point.

Not now, though. Now the sugar had caramelized into syrup, and Blue had managed to end up with a gigantic stack of pancakes while lost in thought. Her body had just shifted into autopilot and worked while she mulled over her feelings. The stack was so high it nearly touched the roof of the basement – or, rather, the floor of the ground story above her. Blue stared up at it for a long, scrutinizing moment before deciding that, yeah, that was probably enough pancakes. King was gone and had no need for breakfast, so Blue procured eight plates and began dividing up the tower of breakfast starch.

After an even split amongst pancakes, Blue found that she had two left over. Normally she’d take any leftovers for herself and eat them with a sprinkle of Netherwart, but given the circumstances Blue felt that someone else deserved it more. She knelled down on the ground to get face to face with Reuben, who had spent the entire cook time at Blue’s heels, nudging her legs with a gentle snout whenever she stood still for too long or began to panic again. Smiling, Blue presented the precious pet with the extra two pancakes, much to Reuben’s squealing delight.

“Just between us, ‘kay?” Blue winked at the little pig, who oinked once in agreement. “I know Red’s got you on a diet, so if he asks, we’ll just say the extra weight’s from worrying over Sec, alright?”

Reuben squealed loudly once more before digging into his second breakfast. His enthusiasm brought Blue her first laugh of the day, giving her the strength to lift herself up (legs were good, no pain so far) and put the finishing touches on breakfast.

Glowberries were Red’s only pancake topping of choice, so Blue added a handful to the top of his stack along with a dollop of syrup. Yellow generally preferred spiced food, so to hers Blue added a generous sprinkle of cinnamon and ginger. Green’s everlasting love of sweets meant he got extra syrup and a dollop of whipped topping, freshly beaten from a bucket of milk. Purple was also a fan of sweet food, but tended to prefer tart and bittersweet to straight up sugar. So sliced fruit went atop their stack. Blue didn’t know what Mango or Gold would like, so she just put sliced fruit on the sides of their plates and called it good. Blue’s own had a little bit of everything, as expected, with a light sprinkle of Netherwart for good measure. And for Second…

Blue frowned, pulling up her inventory to look at the only leftovers from last night’s dinner. Second’s singular slice of pizza had only a few bites taken out of it; and Second had been feeling relatively okay at the time. With a fever, Blue doubted their appetite had gotten any better.

That was no reason not to try, though. Maybe she’d be wrong, and Second would wolf down their stack of pancakes. Still, just to be safe, Blue added a cup of syrup to the side instead of just adding it on top, along with a slice of butter and a cup of powdered sugar; Second’s pancake toppings of choice. If their appetite was at its worse, then it might be easier for them to stomach the starch tower plain.

Giving Reuben one last pat, Blue took everyone’s breakfast into her inventory and climbed up the ladder. The scent of pancakes continued to linger in the air even after the breakfast had vanished, leaving Blue with a rumbling stomach. Eager to finally dig in, Blue burst through the trap door and loudly announced, “Breakfast~!”

That was all Red and Green needed to get off their colourful butts and race over to Blue’s side, crowding her like a nest full of baby birds chirping insistently for their next meal. Laughter bubbled out of Blue as she ushered her friends aside, briefly glancing past them to check on Yellow and Second. Amusingly, Yellow had partially raised out of her seat, as though prepared to also flock to Blue for her breakfast before realizing a moment too late that walking would be a terrible idea. Meanwhile, Second had barely reacted, sluggishly tilting their head up from their sweat dampened pillow. A glassiness to their gaze implied that their recovery was going… not so smoothly.

Blue didn’t let herself react. She instead moved towards the coffee table and began passing out pancakes. Yellow got hers first, and she wasted no time in bragging about her fragrant stack to the other’s. Green took it in stride, rolling his eyes as he took his own plate, and Red was soon too busy stuffing his face to really give Yellow much mind. Mango got his next, and while he did give it a thorough once over, all it took was one hesitant, shaky bite for his eyes to widen in astonishment at Blue’s amazing culinary talent. With something akin to a smug smirk growing on her face, Blue spun around to make for the bedrooms for one final delivery.

“I’ll take Gold and Purple their plates,” Mango offered as she began to walk off, setting aside his plate to follow after her. His sudden approach probably should have made Blue more nervous than it did, except that there was a dark foot-shaped bruise on his face that sucked any sort of threatening aura right out of the old man. Some part of Blue, a part she tended to bury outside of sparring with her friends, was quite proud of the wound, especially considering she had used barely any of her strength to make it.

So she nodded and removed the two plates from her inventory to hand them off, just in time for Green to jump in and snatch them both up. “Uh, best let me take care of that!” He laughed off the mildly offended glare Mango tossed his way. “Gold was still pretty sore about you freaking out earlier. He was pretty insistent about wanting space.”

This made Mango look to the side in shame; so lost in his emotions that he barely noticed Green lose his balance and stumble a bit trying to carry both plates. Blue’s brow furrowed, but as Green managed to right himself pretty quickly, she didn’t move to stop him.

“So I’ll take the plates to Purple’s room,” Green must have caught sight of Blue’s confused look, because he immediately clarified, “The two are cleaning out Purp’s room in case Sec needs to be moved, and then they’re going to do the same to Gold’s room, since it’s all dusty.” Green took a few steps back, smiling with a sense of confidence Blue was certain he wasn’t feeling before backing down the hallway with uncharacteristically off-kilter steps.

Blue’s stomach turned. “Red,” She called, causing her friend to halt mid-bite. “Can you go help Green? Just to make sure he doesn’t drop Purple’s breakfast?”

Red frowned, “But, my pancakes…”

Putting on her sternest frown, Blue crossed her arms and glared firmly at him.

Immediately Red dropped his fork on his plate, his hands stretched towards the sky in a gesture of surrender, and pushed away from the coffee table, only pausing to store his food in his inventory before trailing after Green. Yellow called after him with a faux mocking laugh as she jammed her mouth full of yet another bite of pancakes. A part of Blue felt a little bad about bullying Red into putting off eating, but someone had to watch over their possibly concussed musician, and Blue had something just as important to take care of.

Taking out the stack of plain pancakes, Blue took a seat next to Second and gently prodded them. Though they weren’t asleep, their eyes were unfocused and staring off into the distance. She reached out and shook Sec’s shoulder gently, drawing their attention up to her. Their body was unpleasantly warm under her touch; Blue tried not to think about it. “Hey, dude,” She greeted softly instead. Second stared blearily up at her, “I brought you breakfast.”

Second flopped back down onto the pillow. “’M not hungry…”

“Come on, Sec, I know you’re not feeling well,” Consoled Blue, soothingly rubbing their shoulder, “But you need to eat something before we can give you any medicine, otherwise you’ll just throw it up.”

“Kinda feel like throwing up anyways,” Complained the ill stick.

“Aw, c’mon Sec!” Yellow cajoled from the peanut gallery. She had finished her food and promptly propped herself up to watch Blue try and get something down Second’s throat. “If you don’t eat up, you won’t get any better, and then who will nag us to the recycle bin and back?”

Their voice was a low mumble as they responded, “Yer a recyclin’ bin.”

Honestly, Blue was too confused by the statement to take advantage of Second’s talking and force some pancake into their mouth, “Huh?”

Yellow too wore a baffled look on her face, “I think they were trying to insult me, but their brain’s too fried to come up with something that makes sense.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Mango had the same long-suffering sigh that King did, dragging his hand down his face in a hilariously familiar motion. In long, quick strides he reached Blue’s side and snatched the stack of pancakes out of her unprepared hands. “If you pressure them, they’re just going to want to eat even less. Just…” The food was set down on the coffee table. Mango took the fork but didn’t yet make any moves towards Second. Instead, he plopped down and presented his phone to Sec, who stared at it with a dazed look in their eye. “Here, take a look at this. It’s one of Gold’s favourite videos.”

Curious, Blue crowded around to join Mango and Second in their viewing experience. After a moment of buffering, the image of a… catgirl? appeared on the screen in a series of sharp cuts, accompanied by some non-sense song that was actually in a language Blue could understand, the lyrics were just… incomprehensible. But the music was good; cheery and upbeat, with a good rhythm that Blue couldn’t help but bop her head to. And then the catgirl? started to dance. She bobbed and weaved in simple patterns, the bulk of the work being foisted into her arm movements. Personally, Blue found intricate legwork far more impressive, but this was the type of dance almost anyone could imitate. Even Second, the two-left-footer themselves, could probably manage it without even knocking anyone over. Blue smiled a tiny smile at the thought and bobbed her head to the rhythm. It was a little weird, but there was something appealing about the weirdness.

This sentiment was not shared by Second, who tiredly peered at it with squinted eyes, struggling to comprehend just what they were seeing. “What the…?”

“What? What is it?” Demanded Yellow. She was actually pouting from the disgrace of being left out of the joke.

“It’s something Gold showed me some time ago. Pretty rad, right?” Mango answered, and something deep inside of Blue cringed. They were two years in the future, and who knows how long ago Gold had showed it to him beforehand. And ‘rad’? It was so uncool that it cemented just how much of a dad the ‘old man’ was.

But still, it was a really catchy song…

“Uh…” Second was too confused, either by the video or the fever, to respond.

Blue tapped her foot and bobbed her head to the music, making sure not to get too distracted from Second or Yellow. So she didn’t miss how Mango brought the forkful of plain pancakes up to Second’s face. So distracted was the orange stick that they didn’t kick up any protest when it was brought to their mouth; merely mindlessly opening up and taking a bite.

Oh. So that was the point of the video. Blue’s motions had halted entirely as she took in the sight of Second subconsciously chowing down. “How did you do that…?”

“Hm?” Mango placed the fork down. At this point he’d managed to get a quarter of a pancake into Second, which wasn’t super great but was better than yesterday. “Oh, it’s a dad thing. Gold can be a stubborn eater when he’s sick, too, so I’ve figured out some tricks to get some food in him. Thought they might work on your friend. Mind you, this shouldn’t be doing this outside of emergencies…” As if remembering something, Mango stood up and stretched, “They should take some fever reducer while they’ve got something in their stomach. I’ll handle it.”

He briefly stepped away, and Blue used this opportunity to check once again on her friends. With the video paused and stimulation gone, Second had curled up under the blanket once again. They seemed worn down, but otherwise not in danger of throwing up right this moment. Her attention then turned to Yellow, still pouting on the armchair, and Blue hopped over with a smile. Mango passed by a fistful of pills for Sec to gulp down.

“You okay…?” She asked in a sing-song tone.

She got an annoyed huff in response, Yellow crossing her arms and looking away. There was no real malice behind the action; While Yellow was better at keeping a mock expression than Red or Green, Blue wasn’t fooled. “I wanted to see the stupid video…” Yellow grumbled.

That little pout was so adorable, Blue couldn’t help but poke those puffy cheeks with her pointer fingers. “It was just a weird dance video, nothing too crazy,” Then, with an exaggerated glance back towards Second, Blue bent down and whispered conspiratorially into Yellow’s ear, “But once you’re feeling better, I’ll teach you how to do the dance. It’ll bug Sec like crazy if we all do it!”

Joyful snickering was Blue’s well earned reward for her joke. Making Sec suffer was a favourite pastime of everyone on the PC; even Sec themselves, though they’d never admit it.

Across the coffee table, Sec offered a half-hearted glare at their treasonous plotting. They then rolled over to direct their ire at Mango. “I don’t feel any better…”

“It takes time for the medicine to take effect,” Chided Mango. “Be patient. Now, you’ll have to take more in about six or so hours…”

“More?” Second groaned weakly.

The elderly stick tittered at Sec’s childish complaints, “If you want to get better, you’ve got to take your medicine. Once it kicks in, your fever will go down and you’ll stop feeling so crummy. Honestly, what do you normally do when you get sick?’

In lieu of Sec’s barely audible moaning, Blue chimed in, “Well, normally Sec just puts us on strict bed rest and babies us until we’re better. You wouldn’t think it from how stand-offish they can be, but they’re a real good nurse.” Seeing as Yellow and Sec were taken care of, Blue didn’t have any qualms pulling out her own stack of pancakes and chowing down.

“Then, who takes care of Second when they get sick?” The question was asked with a sense of dread, almost as if afraid of the answer.

Yellow shrugged it off, “Sec doesn’t get sick.”

“Doesn’t get…” Mango’s head swiveled between Sec and Yellow, eyes wide as he internally warred with the information. His brow was so furrowed that Blue was certain he’d start getting wrinkles to match King’s soon, “Where are your parents?”

“Uh,” Blue turned to look for the answers on Yellow’s face, but poor Yel was just as baffled by the question as Blue was. Seeing that the others weren’t answering, Blue took the initiative, “We don’t… really… have parents…?”

“I guess there’s… Alan….” Second suggested, voice weak for reasons beyond their illness. Their eyes avoided the gaze of everyone staring back, instead drifting up to stare vacantly at the ceiling.

Blue’s eyes connected with Yellow, silently communicating the agreement to not bring up what they were both thinking. Instead, Blue came up with a different excuse, “Well, Alan isn’t exactly our caretaker or anything. He’s more like a… friendly landlord?”

“Or a rich uncle!” Yellow chimed in, “Who we mooch off of without shame!”

“YOU guys mooch!” Second’s voice was beginning to become scratchy, Blue noted. She’d need to head down to the basement and get them some water soon. “I actually WORK for my keep!”

All Blue had to do to refute that was utter two simple words: “Team trees.”

Second’s face began to glow in a brilliant green blush, “Oh, shut up-!” They cut themselves off with a violent fit of coughing. Immediately Blue switched gears, putting down her mostly empty plate and rushing over to sooth Second by gently rubbing their back. Yellow, unable to do anything, glanced away. Her eyes glazed over as she retreated into her thoughts.

It took a long, long minute for Second’s coughing to finally subside. Even after it was gone, Blue continued to rub up and down Sec’s back soothingly, uncertain of what else to do. All she could hear was the shallow breaths of her dear friend as she helped them settle back down. Yellow and Mango were silent and still behind her. The extra blanket Purple had provided for Sec wasn’t very thick, but it was soft and velvety smooth beneath her fingers as she tucked their shivering form in and watch them settle down. Though their eyes were closed, they were shut too tightly for Blue to think they’d drifted off into dreamland quite yet.

That was so stupid; Blue had to be more careful about working Sec up until they were feeling better.

“…I feel a little like I should be calling child protective services,” Mango eventually confessed as Blue finished tucking her poor friend in.

Yellow scoffed, naturally taking offense to the admittedly understandable concern, “Yeah, and what are you going to tell then? ‘Hey, I think these kids I assaulted may be parent-less. You should check that out, right after arresting me for punching a child.’”

That was met with a grumble, but Mango couldn’t raise up much of a protest. Not when it completely true.

It was at this time that Red and Green finally returned. Their absence had been a little longer than Blue thought strictly necessary, but not long enough to set off any alarm bells in her head, especially considering Green’s love of gab. As if to answer the unspoken question, Green passed an empty plate over to Blue, who stuffed it into her inventory without much thought. His eyes were still a little foggy, but ultimately Green didn’t seem too worse for wear. Blue slung an arm around his shoulders, a supportive gesture disguised as a friendly one, and guided Green to the couch to rest. Red, meanwhile, hung back and idly rubbed his arm.

“Gold and Purple are still finishing up their food,” Green explained as his hand drifted to Sec’s hair and began combing through it. As Sec was the only one of the group with particularly long hair (well, had been before Purple, anyways) it wasn’t uncommon for any of them to seek out Second and play with their hair when they were upset. With the exception of when they were drawing, Sec never minded. “They said they’ll bring them out when they’re finished cleaning both their rooms.”

Mango nodded, though he didn’t look particularly happy, “I see… and Gold’s still upset with me?”

“They’re both busy cleaning!” Red blurted out. From the corner of her eye, Blue could see Green massage his temple irritably with a huffy exhale.

“…I see,” Acknowledged the adult stick, his voice forlornly flat. He crossed his arms and stared down at the ground in deep thought.

Eager to switch up the mood, Blue clapped her hands together and pulled all eyes to herself. The pressure was on, but Blue wasn’t afraid. “Well, now that we’ve all had breakfast, I think we should focus on just relaxing while we wait for King!” It was a two birds, one stone solution; Mango would get distracted and not pester Gold and Purple while the tension is still high, and Green, Yellow, and Sec could kick back and focus on healing. “Mango, why don’t you get a movie going, and we’ll watch while waiting for the others to finish up? I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Red and Green protested a little as Blue took all of the empty plates. Despite this, Blue waved them off with a smile; she didn’t mind a little extra work after a meal to keep her friends happy. And Second needed some fresh water, anyways.

--------------------

Gold and Purple had been hiking through the Avery Forest for quite some time when Purple abruptly grabbed Gold by the arm and yanked him back behind a tree. The sudden movement made Gold gasp; Purple shushed him before he could even think about protesting. They then made a small ‘come hither’ movement with their hands and motioned forward with a nod of their head. With no option, Gold mimicked Purple and snuck up to the edge of the thick trunk they’d hidden behind, into a grove of towering pines.

There he was. King Dad, leaning back in the cool shade of one of the trees. He was still alive, still unharmed, which lifted a weight from Gold’s chest that he hadn’t been aware was pressing down on him. One of Dad’s hands held a metal compass; the other, a piece of paper yellow with age. He was examining both with the same sharp eye that he’d use to sniff out the issues in hardware brought to his shop: eyes narrowed, lips pressed thin, utterly concentrated on the task before him as he marked the paper with a pen. He’d always been like that. Single-minded and obsessive.

Like an evil king hellbent on revenge-

Hastily Gold shook the thought out of his head. This wasn’t about Dad. As relieving as it was to see him safe, as much as the mere idea of his crimes haunted Gold, this entire venture was about reassuring Purple. Gold was going to be a GOOD big brother. He was going to do what neither of his Dads could be bothered to do, and put Purple’s needs first for once in their life.

Speaking of Purple, the other stick was standing behind Gold, peering over his hair with palpable relief. “Well, he’s still breathing, at least…” They noted, the words spoken in a playful matter-of-fact manner that was in clear contrast to the sudden relaxing of their shoulders.

“What’s he doing?” Gold asked, squinting as he tried to focus on the paper. Just what was on it that had King Dad so enraptured?

“Making notes on his location,” Purple explained, eyes darting between the map and King Dad’s face, “When you’re out in the unknown, it’s important to keep close tabs on where you’ve been and where you’re going. That way if you get lost, you can retrace your steps and figure out where you’d gone wrong. It’s Wilderness Survival one-oh-one.”

As they’d spoken, Purple’s tone had taken on a more theatrical edge. Gold had noticed it last night, with the story of Dad’s… exploits, and how they’d swiftly worked to distract everyone from the panic this morning with their quick thinking and quicker wit. It was impressive, how Purple had immediately adapted the situation and jumped in to defuse the tension building up between everyone. Almost like they were used to it.

…

Gee, they- they sure were smart, too, weren’t they? “I can’t believe you just knew that off the top of your head!” Gold praised in the highest volume he dared, which was just a touch louder than a whisper, “That’s sooooo cool!”

“Well,” Purple preened, puffing up even as their face began to darken into a violet blush, “Naturally. I am something of a genius.”

The immense pride with which Purple perked themselves up with was absolutely adorable. Gold bit his lower lip to keep in the giggle threatening to escape. Movement in the corner of his eye then dragged his attention away from Purple and back towards King Dad. “Uh-oh!” In the five seconds that Gold had taken his eyes off of his father, Dad had folded up his paper and put everything back in his pack. Already he’d pushed off the tree he was leaning against and was once again beginning to make his way further into the woods. “He’s getting away!”

“Not for long!” Purple’s attention snapped back to King Dad immediately, watching tensely as he sauntered away. Their eyes darted around wildly for a moment before narrowing in on a spot somewhere to the left of King Dad. They held up their hand in a singular ‘stop’ motion before darting forth, to a tree nearby that was thick enough to shield them both from Dad’s vision. Once in position, they then made a ‘come hither’ motion with their hand to prompt Gold to follow suit, which he did.

The pair ducked behind the tree, waiting for a breathless moment before both cautiously peeked their heads out to observe King Dad. He hadn’t taken notice of the pair at all; His nose was still buried in the piece of paper he was carrying. Gold beamed up triumphantly at Purple, who spared him a quick smile before latching their attention entirely on Dad again. After a moment and a little more distance, Purple signaled again for Gold to stay put and stepped out of their hiding spot.

SNAAAP!

Purple froze as a branch broke beneath their foot. Immediately Gold grabbed Purple by the arm and pulled them back to the safety of the tree’s shadow, pressing them both into its bark in an effort to keep them hidden from King Dad’s view. Gold’s pounding heart echoed in his ears; the only other thing he could hear was Purple’s quickened breathing right next to him. Neither dared to speak, neither dared to move. Seconds ticked by, each one compounding the dread pressing down on Gold’s shoulders.

Finally, after a long, long moment of waiting, Purple sidled a little closer to the edge of the tree and cautiously peeked out, using the plentiful leaves and the shade they provided as cover.

“Do you think he saw us?” Gold whispered as loudly as he dared. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the pounding of his heart.

Squinting inquisitively at their parent in the distance, Purple eventually whispered back, “I don’t think he saw us, per se, but he definitely saw someone…” Then the violet stick’s eyes widened suddenly in shock. Gold didn’t need to ask what triggered the reaction; he could already hear the crackling of leaves and grass under heavy feet up ahead of them, rapidly moving away.

Oh. Well… shoot.

“C’mon!” Gold all but dragged Purple behind him as he raced after his running father. King Dad wasn’t even sparing a glance back at his pursuers; he simply sprinted forward into the wild unknown. Tall trees flew by in a blur of brown and green all around them. Sweat began to pool on his brow as the heat closed in from all sides.

Ahead of them, Gold could could see Dad hopping over fallen branches and overturned trunks with a level of agility that Gold had never seen in his father before. It was a little harder for Gold to make the same jumps, what with Purple in tow, so he had to lead the other into ducking under or around obstacles, and this was already putting distance between the two parties. As his father began to get farther away, Gold gritted his teeth and picked up the pace. Purple’s heavy breathing behind him was static in the background compared to the thumping and crunching ahead of them.

Purple needed to know their father would be okay. King Dad needed him to keep him from doing anything stupid. And Gold- Gold needed… he needed to-! He couldn’t let any more bad things happen because of-!

“Ah!” A sharp gasp gave Gold only a second of warning before Purple’s hand slipped out of his. They fell to the ground with a cacophony of crunch from the grass and ground below their collapsed body. Immediately Gold’s racing feet ground to a halt. He spun around to find Purple on the ground, having only barely prevented a face-plant by landing shoulder first into the soil. Their chest heaved as they took in deep inhales.

Everything in Gold’s mind scratched to a halt except for a repetition of ‘shoot, shoot, shoot!’ playing over and over again like a broken record. “Oh Cursors!” He sprinted back to Purple’s side without a moment of hesitation. With a rough grip he took hold of Purple’s arm and began to hoist them back up. “Are you okay?”

“F-forget about me!” Purple snapped, roughly pushing Gold off of them and peering off into the distance, “We need to catch up to- ah,” Purple’s shoulders slumped, prompting Gold to look back in the direction King Dad has run. Rows upon rows upon rows of vibrant green trees stretched ahead of them, broken up by emerald shrubbery and a carpet of sticks and leaves. But no Mango. Dad had taken advantage of their temporary setback to gain a substantial lead, unknowingly leaving both of his children in the dust.

“Well,” Gold spoke aloud for the both of them. “Heck.”

It was as if Purple hadn’t heard Gold. They took a few stumbling steps forward, staring numbly into the vast expanse of trees where King Dad had disappeared. After a moment of nothing but Purple’s breathing and the rustling of leaves in the wind, the violet stick spun around and immediately began rambling on, “Okay, no need to panic!” Whether they were talking themselves or Gold, the younger stick couldn’t say, “This is fine! It’s all gonna be fine! Sure, he ditched us, but we know where he’s going! If we just head south and keep a good pace, we’ll catch up with him in no time!” Purple finished off their spiel with a confident pose, hands on their hips and head raised to the sky. Like this, Gold could see their inner superhero shining through.

“That’s brilliant!” He praised, relishing in the sudden flush of Purple’s cheeks. They were clearly unused to receiving the proper accolades for their actions. Well, that would be another thing something Gold would have to fix! “Heh, with a master adventurer like you leading the way, protecting Dad’ll be a piece of cake!” Between the two of them, Gold was sure they’d keep him from dying or committing more terrorism, whether he liked it or not!

“Oh, please, stop~!” Purple gushed, smiling in spite of their poor attempts to be humble, “I just have some more experience than you, that’s all. Now,” They dropped their pose and peered around in every direction, sniffing around as if searching for some particular scent, “which direction is south…?”

Gesturing vaguely in the direction King Dad had run off in – or at least, the direction Gold thought he had run off in (maybe he was wrong?) - Gold asked, “Isn’t the way he went south?”

“That’s what he’d want you to think,” Answered the violet stick, pointing a single digit back at Gold, “But for as much of a senile Old Man as he can be, your Dad’s nothing if not clever. If he thought he was being tailed, he wouldn’t lead his pursuers to where he’s heading.”

Ah! That made sense! “So he went north?” Gold guessed.

“Maybe, but there are other directions he could’ve gone, too,” With a thwap, Purple’s roughsack was tossed to the ground, and the violet stick began to dig through it, pulling out item after item after item. Granola bars, “No,” A tiny case with a blue cross, “Nope,” Some… pixelated rockets…? “Nuh-uh,” And-

Gold wasn’t quite sure what to make of the next item Purple pulled out of their roughsack. It folded like fabric with a texture like shiny glass, and the care Purple put into it in comparison to the other objects in their bag was obvious. There was an odd pixelation to them as well, one Gold didn’t see much outside of older games. Was this… a game item, then?

...It was pretty.

Before Gold could gather his thoughts enough to ask any questions, Purple groaned with frustration. “Why don’t I have a map in here? I don’t even have a compass! How do I notat least have a compass?!” A low growl escaped through their teeth as Purple buried their face in their hands.

“Is there another way to find south?” Gold asked, flipping through the files in his mind for any relevant information that might have managed to make it from school lessons into his long-term memory, “Like, isn’t moss supposed to grow on the north side of a tree?”

“That’s just a myth,” Purple waved off without much fanfare, “If the forest wasn’t so thick I might be able to find the sea through scent, but the trees are blocking the ocean winds, so I’m just getting pine,” Purple looked up and grimaced, “I could use my Elytra to survey from up high, but I’d have to use a rocket… and I’d really prefer not to do that unless it’s an emergency. I was hoping to use those to get us home.”

The shimmering sheen of the fabric item drew Gold’s eye back to it. Ah. So this was the Elytra Purple had spoken of earlier. Soon enough the other had taken hold of the Elytra and one of the rockets, debating internally about whether or not it was worth the trouble of using one. They looked so torn up about it. A sudden knot formed in Gold’s chest, tightening around his heart in a painfully unfamiliar way. He’d come all this way with his new sibling to stop that kind of stress.

If only Gold could fix it somehow. If only he could see over the trees-

Oh.

Duh.

In a single stride Gold reached Purple’s side, patting their head with sarcastic sweetness, “Not to worry, little sib-”

“Okay, seriously, stop calling me that-”

“Your big bro’s got this handled,” Gold bent down, bracing his knees and aligning his feet, “Just watch and learn!” With only a second spared for a deep inhale, Gold sprung upward with all the strength in his legs. The propulsion of his leap launched him high and fast, giving Gold only a second to gather his bearings before reaching out to grip the tallest tree at maybe two-thirds of its height. He only had half of a second to grab onto its trunk, which was admittedly more of a mad scramble than Gold would have liked, but he still managed to get a solid grip in time.

With his arms and legs wrapped around the solid trunk, Gold took a moment to breath. In, and out. In, and out, harsh and rapid. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, and he briefly wondered if Purple could hear its attempts to beat out of Gold’s chest before shaking the ridiculous thought out of his head.

Somewhere beneath him, so softly Gold could only barely hear it over his deep breathing, Purple spoke. “Wow, he really is a good jumper…” The soft voice mumbled, and a single chuckle mixed in with Gold’s uneven inhales.

After a second or so, Gold’s breathing settled down. He called down a brief, “Thanks!” and triggered a violent blush that stretched across Purple’s entire face and down to their neck. Da’aw, they were embarrassed. How cute.

Gold smothered his laughter with one hand. It was then that he remembered that he was supposed to be doing something and proceeded to begin shimmying his way upward. The bark of the tree dug into his exposed skin, but it wasn’t an unfamiliar ache, so Gold was able to easily move past it. The bigger problem was the branches in the way. Some of them were sturdy enough to be used to prop Gold up, but at this height, most were too fragile to handle his weight. All Gold could do was push them out of the way or, for some awkwardly placed branches, endure leaves and little twigs digging into his side.

But it was nothing he couldn’t handle! Little calluses and splinter marks polka dotting his hands from breaking training boards over the years-

(Not that it ended up amounting to more than a silver ranking, after everything Gold put into it…)

-gave Gold more than enough experience to handle climbing a simple tree! He matched his reaches upward to the beat of his hammering heart and slowly, gradually, pulled himself towards the top. The canopy of leaves thinned around him, until finally, finally, his hands took hold of the topmost branches and Gold was able to pull himself out of the leave's shade and into the light of the sun. His gaze drew up from the branches he was focused on to the distant horizon, and Gold gasped.

An ocean of emerald green stretched out before him, the leaves rustling with the wind’s gentle melody. Beyond that, in the direction Gold knew was south, was the actual ocean, a giant expanse of deep blue stretching as far as the eye could see. The sun’s warmth reflected off the waves, making the water shimmer like liquid sapphire. The sun’s warmth beading down on Gold’s head was cooled by a gentle breeze flowing past, stealing the breath from Gold’s lungs.

Were the Avery Woods always this beautiful? It occurred to Gold that the woods were not even an hour’s walk from his house, but he and Dad had never even been here. Why would they? Everything they needed was in the city. And if they wanted to bask in nature’s glory, then it was off to the park for the pair of them. Why bother trekking all the way out into the wilderness, where there was mud and wild animals and, apparently, cyber-terrorists?

But still… how could they just neglect such an amazing view right in their own backyard?

“HEY!” A sudden shout shocked Gold out of his stupor, “ARE YOU DEAD UP THERE? PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD UP THERE, I REALLY DON’T WANT TO EXPLAIN THAT TO YOUR DADS!”

Blinking away the shock, Gold glanced down at Purple. From this height they were barely a speck of amethyst against the shadow cast by the tree. “Cool your jets!” Gold called back down. He moved to hug the tree’s trunk as tightly as he could and let gravity carry him down, only momentarily broken up by the need to maneuver around precariously placed branches. At about twice his height from the ground Gold deemed it ‘good enough’ and jumped the rest of the distance.

A glance to the side revealed that Purple had reacted almost exactly like Dad would have – their arms were outstretched, as though ready to pluck the falling stick out of mid-air. In return Gold gave them a cheeky little smirk.

“South is straight that way!” Reported the shorter stick, pointing towards the sea hidden behind an ocean of emerald.

Despite the shock caused by Gold leaping off the tree, Purple quickly recovered, smoothing back their hair and standing stock straight; as though nothing had happened. “Excellent work, Goldie,” They praised, patting the other on the head. Gold’s tongue reflexively stuck out in response. “If that Old Man thought he could get the best of us, he’s got another thing coming! Come on,” Purple pumped their fists in excitement, “Let’s show your idiot Dad that he’s not dying on our watch!”

Gold nodded, but as the two began to march along the vibrant pathway those words kept repeating themselves in his head. That Old Man. Your Dad. Had they been doing that this whole time? Shoot, Gold really needed to pay more attention if he was going to be any good at this big brother thing.

For a moment he mulled over the meaning of Purple’s words in his head, before finally he mustered his courage and spoke up, “Purple?” At the other’s questioning hum he continued, “Can I ask a question?”

“I don’t know,” Purple chirped, raising their chin and looking down at Gold with a sharp grin, “Can you?”

Oh, that was such a dumb joke. Either of his Dads would have loved it if they were around, “May I ask a question, then?”

“Didn’t you just ask one?” Purple’s grin grew from ear to ear.

With a frustrated huff, Gold stamped his foot, “Oh, come on!”

The annoyance left him completely, however, when he saw Purple begin to crack up. Their laughter was loud and wild; it suited them perfectly. “Okay, okay!” The other righted themselves quickly, still smiling wide. They folded their arms behind their head, “What did you want to ask?”

“Well-” Now that he had the okay, Gold found himself hesitating, but swallowed past the instinctive nerves and forced out the question, “Why do you call Dad ‘Old Man’?” Anxious fingers tapped together as Gold found himself unable to look at his companion, instead staring at the forest floor, “Why not by his name, or… or ‘Dad’?”

It took Gold a moment to realize Purple had stopped long enough for him to pass them. He spun around and quickly saw the other standing stock still in contrast to the shivering branches, stunned by the unexpected inquiry. Their eyes blinked stupidly for a moment; their shoulders were squared and tensed. It was as if the question had caused Purple to fumble and drop their brain, and now it was scrambling to catch up with them.

The rustling leaves, dancing elegantly in the wind, filled the silence around the two.

After only a few seconds, Purple’s shoulders relaxed and they rolled their eyes in a clearly exaggerated movement, “Pfft, please. Have you met the guy?” Purple scoffed casually. Despite this, Gold could still see a nervous tension to their movements. “He’s the epitome of an old man. Cantankerous, a complete know-it-all, an absolute menace to society…” They shrugged, and walked straight past Gold, “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

Gold pressed his lips together, letting a ponderous hum escape at the answer. Okay, so Purple didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. That was fine. That was- that was fine. But still, some part of Gold couldn’t quite let it go. “But, he’s taking care of you and stuff, right?” Gold questioned. His Dad had, in the span of hours, become capable of mass murder; it would be so easy for him to take advantage of some naive, vulnerable young stick, too.

When Purple turned around to answer, they paused for a second. Something unfamiliar flickered in their eye as they ran their gaze over Gold. Whatever it was made them straighten up and lose some of their careless attitude, “Oh, yeah, of course!” Purple confirmed readily. The expected relief from hearing that didn’t come, leaving Gold with only a deep sinking feeling, “I mean, he gave up his room for me. Don’t think there’s much that could top that.”

That was true, Gold conceded, though it didn’t quite alleviate the unease that had settled in his stomach. “Do you guys… have fun together?” He probed, internally cringing at the nervous squeak to his voice.

“Absolutely, we have tons of fun!” Purple insisted brightly. They didn’t seem to be fibbing, at least, “Like, just the other day, your Dad was teaching me how to make lasagna. I didn’t really think cooking would be fun because, like, it always looks so stressful on cooking shows! But it was a blast! We made the sauce from scratch, and it wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be.”

Purple’s voice held nothing but pure whimsy as they spoke, and that did succeed in making Gold feel better, if only by a little. “What else do you guys do?” He asked, this time mostly out of curiosity and only partially out of concern.

“What don’t we do?” Purple asked, counting down on their fingers as they continued to walk. Gold easily kept stride, following a few steps behind their little sibling, “We’ve gone ice skating, we go to the theater, I’ve taught the old man gardening…” As they spoke, Gold found a genuine smile growing on his face. There was something enrapturing about listening to someone else talk with so much raw enthusiasm. It was oddly relaxing. “…and we play Minecraft together all the-”

The sound of that singular word froze Gold’s feet to the ground. Minecraft.

“….Then, something went wrong. The connection was disrupted, and glitches began to consume the game,” The arms around Gold tightened almost to the point of suffocation, but Gold couldn’t complain. Even without them he felt like he couldn’t breath, “I-I tried to get him out, to break through the glass, but the corruption pulled her back in and- and then…” King Dad’s eyes were dull and lifeless as he stumbled through his story, “The connection terminated. The Minecraft world was destroyed… and everything in it.”

In an instant Purple had spun around, visibly cringing, “I’m sorry, forget I said that-”

“It’s fine,” Gold interrupted instantly. A shiver ran through him in spite of the summer heat. Minecraft. It wasn’t like he hadn’t guessed that they played it, after learning there was Minecraft stuff in the brand-new basement – thanks for telling them about that, Dad!

Okay, deep breath, Gold. Sure, Minecraft was the game where his future self died, but it was still, at the end of the day, a game. He’d even said so himself just the other day. It wasn’t the game’s fault that the fair booth was glitched up. There was nothing to be afraid of.

It was fine.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Gold forced a wider grin on his face, and hoped against hope that Purple couldn’t hear the hammering of his heart. “Why don’t you… uh, tell me about it?”

Purple blinked owlishly at them. “...You sure?” Their voice was soft with clear hesitation, hands busying themselves with clenching and unclenching onto the fabric of their shorts.

“Yeah!” Gold forced all the enthusiasm he could muster into that exclamation, pumping both of his arms to showcase his excitement. He wasn’t going to let something like a glitch that hadn’t even happened yet stop him from being a supportive big brother. “You were just saying you played it all the time, right? C’mon, tell me everything!”

After a brief moment of silence, all throughout which Purple stared at Gold with an impossible to read expression, the violet stick relented. “Well,” They bit their lip, combing through their mind for things to share, “It’s a pretty fun game – the point is to gather resources and build cool things, like a giant castle, or a looping obstacle course!” As they spoke, Purple began gesturing with their arms, as though showing off Minecraft to their new big brother. Gold smiled back at the display in spite of the butterflies in his stomach, “And there are tons of cool items in the game too! You can craft swords, and make potions – oh, you’ll have to ask Blue about potions, she’s real good at those! - and of course, my personal favourite: The Elytra.”

Like two rusty gears clinking together, something in Gold’s brain clicked. The cloth item he’d seen earlier – the one Purple was toting around with the slightly odd texture – that was the Elytra. A Minecraft item. They- they had a Minecraft item with them.

Gold’s mouth went dry.

“The connection terminated… world was destroyed… everything in it…”

Quickly the bright stick shook those thoughts out of his head. It wasn’t the game’s fault. He knew that. He knew that. And so he forced himself to take a breath, relax his shoulders, and push those thoughts to the back of his mind.

“You mean that thing you had in your backpack?” Gold asked. He received a nod of confirmation from Purple, and without thought his mouth fell open again and another question tumbled out, “Can I see it?” Immediately after asking Gold clammed up, pressing his lips sealed. He shouldn’t have asked, he knew he shouldn’t have asked, but now that it was out there he realized the curiosity was eating him alive.

Purple hesitated, scratching at the back of their head sheepishly, “Uh, I mean, this is a pretty rare item… It’d be a pain to replace if something happened to it…”

Whether this was a genuine concern or Purple just trying to keep him away from Minecraft, Gold couldn’t say. But he persisted in spite of the hammering of his heart, unwilling to let this ridiculous fear get in his way. “I’ll be really careful,” Gold promised. He sidled up to Purple’s side, forcing them to stop, and blinked up at the other with his biggest, saddest eyes, “Please~? Just for a minute.”

For their part, Purple bit their lip and tried to look away from Gold’s eyes, nervous sweat beading on their forehead. “Well…” Their eyes caught sight of Gold’s, and Gold poured all of his effort into pouting as cutely as he could manage, fluttering his eyes at the other stick. Purple groaned under their breath, clearly not happy, but inevitably, they broke, “Ugh, fine. Just… be really careful, okay?”

Once they had Gold’s profuse nodding at as a promise, Purple took in a deep breath and swung their backpack off of their shoulders to dig through it. Unlike the non-existent compass from earlier, it was pretty easy for purple to find the cloth item and pull it out, letting the folded game item unfurl for Gold to examine.

Before, Gold had chalked the visible texture up to something like glass, but now that he was getting a closer look he could see that the Elytra’s appearance was more in line with that of insect wings. The sunlight that breached the forest canopy overhead shimmered off the material, making it almost look like it was glowing. Despite that, the gentle summer breeze made it clear that the Elytra was made of cloth; it swayed gently, a soft rustling sound being carried on the wind.

Something about the sight of it, with its mild pixelation and pretty colouring, made Gold’s breath catch in his throat. His hands, carrying only a slight tremble, began to move forward, and despite their earlier objections Purple didn’t stop the hands before they made contact with the Elytra.

It was soft.

Gold’s fingers combed through the fabric. Instead of a pair of wings, it felt like a blanket, light and soft and fresh from a dryer. If Gold closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was back at home, snuggled into the couch as his father laid a quilt on top of him, with no need to worry about a deadly cyber-terrorist, or his father rushing off to meet one, or how King Dad had become one, how he’d tried to destroy a game and everyone in it allbecause of Gold, because he’d wanted to play a game at the fair and ended up caught in a storm of glitches-

“Connection terminated… destroyed the world… everything in it… destroyed… everything in it… DeStRoYeD…

Out of the corner of his eye, Gold spotted it. Little bits of the pixelation that indicated this was a game item began to distort and discolour. Like a virus it spread across the surface of the Elytra. The pixels flipped out as they became infected, jumping and flashing colours as they inched their way closer to Gold’s exposed hand. His brain yelled at him to move, move, move! But his body remained frozen in place, unable to do anything as the virus slowly crept towards him, hungry and mindless, ready to tear him apart pixel by pixel-!

Finally Gold managed to pull his hand free, clutching it close to his chest with a gasp. He blinked down at the Elytra – and there was nothing. No glitches, no virus. Just the singular cloth item, fluttering harmlessly in the wind.

All the while Purple stared at them, eyes crinkling with obvious worry.

“I… think that’s enough,” Gold stated, rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles with his thumb. He quietly exhaled through his nose and gave Purple his biggest smile. The poor stick looked almost as stressed as they did when King Dad had announced he was going after Chosen, and though it made Gold want to squeeze the worry out of them, he managed to hold back. “Thank you.”

Purple nodded, folding the Elytra back up and sealing it back within the confines of their backpack. Gold’s eyes remained glued to the item up until it disappeared. A part of him felt some relief to see the item disappear. Another part felt slimy at the thought.

Once the Elytra was put away the pair began once again trekking through the woods. This time, however, an awkward silence held over the two. Only the sound of crunching greenery underneath his feet filled Gold’s ears as he marched along, scratching at his knuckles to remove an itch that wasn’t there. Of course there wasn’t anything there. It was just an item from a game. There was nothing to cause any glitches. It was fine, he was fine, he couldn’t do this now, not when he had to take care of King Dad and Mango Dad and Purple-

“You know,” Purple broke the silence, walking a few steps ahead of Gold. They didn’t look back at Gold as they spoke, “I used to live in Minecraft.”

Every thought in Gold’s mind came crashing to a stop. Before it could finish rebooting, his mouth went on auto-pilot, “You… lived there?”

“Yup!” Purple’s voice carried a casual cheeriness, almost as if ignorant to the scope of what they’d just confessed, “Found an old play test lab some time back and managed to get the portal working. Wasn’t easy, but I was a resourceful little tyke. I figured it out,” Purple folded their arms behind their head, waltzing along at a leisurely pace, “Heh, I still remember stepping out into that open world for the first time… everything was so… bright. In the city all the colours except for the sticks feel so muted, so stepping out into that Minecraft world for the first time just took my breath away…”

As they spoke, Purple’s voice was light with nostalgic fondness. Gold wondered what they must have seen at that moment to inspire such wonder, and found his mind wandering back to atop the tree, taking in an ocean so beautiful he’d nearly forgotten how to breathe. Struck with just how big and beautiful the world around him was, and how… cut off he’d been this entire time.

Was that the feeling Purple and their friends got when they were inside Minecraft? The thought of that stoked excitement and anxiety inside Gold in equal measure, the two emotions ebbing and receding within him like the tides.

Oblivious to Gold’s internal turmoil, Purple continued, “I wandered the overworld for some time before ending up on somebody’s abandoned Mac. The thing still worked just fine. Don’t know where the owner went, but they never came for their machine, so I made myself at home. Built up a nice castle, and a village for my own amusement, which some villager NPCs moved in to more or less overnight. Before I knew it, I was ruling over them,” For the first time since starting, Purple looked back, winking at Gold, “Heh, your Dad might be King, but I was the original King.”

Ooh, wow! Gold’s mouth fell agape at the idea. An initial wave of excitement ran through him; Purple was a King, just like Dad! But his enthusiasm quickly died off as his buried thoughts resurfaced to remind Gold just what King Dad did with his kingship. “Dad didn’t… take your kingdom, did he?”

“What?” The genuine confusion helped ease Gold’s fear more than the following denial, “Oh, no, that was long before we met. I lost my kingdom because I flew too close to the sun, Goldie.”

Gold gasped. How horrible! “You mean the sun is hostile in Minecraft?!” After hearing Purple talk about the game, Gold had been beginning to get an image of what the game was like; a calm crafting simulator. Indignant suns with the power to dethrone kings didn’t quite fit that picture.

Purple, for their part, looked utterly baffled at the question, “Huh? No- it was a reference. You know, Icarus? Greek mythology?”

The only response Gold could think to give was a blank stare and questioning tilt of the head.

Confusion quickly turned to discomfort as the silence stretched on. Soon enough Purple continued, turning around to face forward as they walked again, “Er, never mind. What I meant to say was, I got greedy,” They sighed, “There was a treasure in an area of the game called ‘The End,’ and I wanted it. Iiiit… just so happened that the boss of the End… is a dragon. And the treasure was her egg.”

Oh. Already Gold could tell where this was going, “That… couldn’t have ended well.”

Purple scoffed aloud, “Yeah, no kidding,” Their shoulders drooped as they recounted the experience, “The dragon burst through the portal into the village I’d made and burnt it down searching for her egg. She only stopped when I finally gave it back…” Purple paused, taking a moment to stare up at the sky and giving Gold ample opportunity to catch up to them, “She was… a real good mom.”

“So my hunch was correct. The kid’s an abuse victim.”

Gulping past the sudden lump in his throat, Gold reached out and gently patted Purple on the shoulder. If Purple’s muscles briefly stiffened under the unexpected touch, neither paid it any mind.

“Anyways,” Purple soon began moving again, and this time, instead of staying two steps behind, Gold kept stride with his new little sibling, “Turns out the gratefulness my people had for building them a village did not override their anger at getting said village burned down for no real reason. So I got jailed. And then banished,” Gold winced, but Purple looked pretty nonchalant about it all, “After that, I bounced between the city and a new tree house in the Minecraft Overworld for a while, and then I saw your Dad’s help wanted poster, and… well, you know the story from there.”

Stealing the Icon. Erasing an entire world full of innocent people. Nearly killing a group of stick kids – including the only person who’d been trying to help him. Yeah, Gold got the picture.

“So,” Purple’s tone jumped back to cheerful and carefree as easily as slipping into a pair of sandals, “Now it’s your turn.”

That earned Purple a confused look, “My turn?” Asked Gold.

“I told you a secret,” Responded the violet stick with a mischievous smile that reached their eyes, “It’s only fair you give me one, too. It doesn’t even have to be a big one. Just tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Revelation lit up Gold’s eyes as it dawned on him just what Purple was telling him. Not only was that story something Purple kept from everyone – maybe even Dad too, which made Gold feel oddly giddy – but they felt comfortable enough to ask Gold for a secret! His fuzzy brain turned itself over, searching through every memory for something suitable to share. The biggest secret Gold had was the whole ‘from the past and also doomed by destiny’ thing, which Purple was well aware of. But nothing else felt good enough. The secrets he had – the few things he didn’t share with Dad – were stupid things, like breaking bedtime rules to play video games after dark or tossing stuff under his bed instead of properly cleaning his room or-

Oh. That could work. It wasn’t ‘I lived inside a video game because I’m a homeless orphan’ level of deep, but it was the only thing Gold could think of that wasn’t completely stupid.

“Well…” Gold hesitated, steeling his nerves, before a quick look at Purple’s enthralled expression encouraged him on, “When I’m of age, the first thing I’m going to do is get a tattoo.”

Purple choked on their own surprise and started coughing, “Excuse me?” They gasped out.

Nodding excitedly, Gold held out his arm and traced around his wrist with his pointer finger, “Yup! I was thinking a bracelet of thorns around my wrist!” He traced the wobbling path of this imagined bracelet, “That would be sooo cool, don’t you think?”

When Gold’s attention turned back to Purple, he was amused to find the other stick staring over at him with their mouth agape. Giggling to himself, Gold reached over and gently pulled Purple’s jaw back up off the ground.

“Sorry,” Purple immediately apologized, flustered, “I just… didn’t expect that. The Old Man didn’t talk about you much, but I always got the impression that you were something of a goody two-shoes. Never thought you’d want a tattoo.”

The mention of Dad did admittedly sour the mood a little, but Gold kept his cheerful grin as he cheekily answered, “Pssh, Dad doesn’t know everything about me,” Gold relaxed and glanced upward, relishing in the rays of warm sunlight peeking through the umbrella of leaves that covered the forest, “I always thought tattoos were neat, but Dad never liked them. Said it was stupid to make permanent alterations to your body when you could just get a temporary doodle,” And Gold had gotten said temporary doodles, sure, but it wasn’t the same as having the art become a literal part of your body, “So I never told him.” A short sneer fell from his lips, “And even if I did, I bet he wouldn’t mention it. Hard to justify destroying worlds if the person you’re avenging isn’t a perfect little angel.”

“Hey,” The unusually melancholy in Purple’s tone drew Gold’s attention back to his sibling stick; the other stared him straight in the eye, lips pressed thin and gaze focused, “I know you’re still upset about the Minecraft thing, but your Dad… he really does care about you,” The look in Purple’s eyes, intense and serious, left Gold with a weight in his gut, “He screwed up, yeah, but he was in a lot of pain, and… he’s trying very hard to make up for it. So please, cut him some slack? He loves you for you, tattoos and all.”

Thoroughly chastised, Gold directed his gaze down and nodded mutely. Colourful rocks and patches of base dirt passed underneath Gold’s feet as he moved forward, one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that his Dad was suffering – of course Gold knew that. He could still remember how tired King Dad looked as he told his sorry tale, or how Mango Dad had gone from furious to broken in a matter of seconds.

And yet… the fury in his eyes as he straight up decked Purple… the thought of all those innocent Minecraft monsters and NPCs…

Shaking the thought out of his head, Gold smiled weakly up at Purple, “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Purple patted Gold on the shoulder, giving him a bright grin. Admittedly, a part of Gold still felt slimy about just… letting go of the things his Dad did. Not when he’d hurt so many people. But he could at least tone down his anger a bit.

For Purple’s sake.

“So, besides tattoos,” Much to Gold’s relief, Purple seemed satisfied with his answer and moved on quickly, “What else do you like?”

Eager to change the topic, Gold bounced on his heels and enthusiastically clapped his hands together, “Oh, lots of stuff!” He declared, “I’m a silver-ranked tournament fighter, you know that,” At some point Gold would have to squeeze in some extra training. Another few hours a week and Gold was sure he wouldn’t screw up like that again! “but I’m also an avid collector of comic books!”

Chuckling softly, Purple remarked, “I thought those were too cool to be the Old Man’s.”

“Right?” Gold agreed, already feeling lighter, “Dad’s stuff is so boring. Like, those old tech manuals he has? They’re basically all he reads,” Gold hummed, then corrected, “Well, those and true life mystery novels? I honestly don’t get it.”

“Well, to be fair, the manuals are pretty interesting,” Purple mused nonchalantly. Ah, so Purple understood those ten-syllable word using, obnoxiously paced snore-fests? Well, they were something of a genius. Was it really so surprising they were on par with Dad? “But yeah, I don’t get the true life dramas, either. They’re so dry and depressing,” The thought prompted a sigh, and Gold was right there with Purple.

“His taste in music is much better,” Gold promised.

“It is?” The statement seemed to have surprised Purple, who tilted their head at Gold, “We always just listen to my music, so I’ve never been able to gauge what he he likes. Except for one band I kind of like, Kindling? I played one of their songs and the Old Man insisted I turn it off immediately. Guess he doesn’t like rock.”

Gold’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? Kindling is one of our favourite bands!” Another look of shock fell over Purple’s face at that reveal, “We listen to them all the time! We’re even going to see them live-!” Revelation struck Gold like lightning, leaving him shocked still, “...we were going to see them at the fair.”

Purple grimaced, but lost that look of surprise as they, too, came to the same conclusion Gold had, “Ah. That explains it, then.”

At the end of the day, it was just another thing that glitched up fair booth had taken from them.

“But it’s cool you like Kindling!” Clearly sensing the conflict, Purple swiftly pulled them away from that topic and back to the original one, “They’re not my favourite band ever, but I like a lot of their songs! Like, that one hit they had, ‘Everything but the Kitchen Sink’?”

“Ooh, I love that song!” Gushed the fighter, flapping his arms as excitement overwhelmed him, “The chorus just sticks with you! Like, the part where it goes-” Though not particularly familiar with the various notes and chords that created music, Gold did his best to recreate the melody with various bops and da-das, “just blows my mind! Or that bridge where it just goes-” Again, Gold did his best to recreate the melody with his voice. It didn’t sound quite what he was envisioning, but he hoped it was at least close enough that Purple got the gist of it, “That leads into that wicked guitar solo that goes like-!”

The harmonious strings of a violin cut Gold off, matching the solo he had in mind near perfectly. Its melody left Gold frozen in place, entirely captivated by the composition floating freely through the air, leaving the gentle breeze to quiet in awe of the enrapturing riff. Before Gold could even think to turn around it was over.

Once the shock wore off, Gold spun around to find Purple standing with their arms folded behind their back. There was an almost innocent air about them, except for the fact that they had a grin that stretched from ear to ear, practically singing to all who saw it, ‘I know something you don’t know~’

Absolutely astonished, Gold marched right up to Purple, “How did you do that?” He demanded.

Feigning ignorance, Purple asked, “Do what?” with the theatrical air that Gold was coming to associate with the other stick’s more playful side. After a brief pause, they took on a look of mocking realization (that might’ve fooled Gold, if he hadn’t known better – Purple’s a real good actor) and proclaimed, “Oh, you mean this?”

They opened their mouth, but instead of the smooth tones of Purple’s voice, out flowed a lovely tune of violin strings, echoing so beautifully that even the rustling of branches seemed to stop for Purple’s song. The melody left Gold stunned into complete stillness, left with no choice but to take in the music as it babbled through the open air like the most melodious brook. Gold didn’t recognize the song – maybe it was something Purple wrote themselves? - but he was certain he’d never forget it.

Once Purple was done, Gold immediately grabbed their arm, mouth agape, and shook them eagerly, “AAAHH-!”

Despite being rocked like bamboo shaft in the wind, Purple offered no resistance but laughter.

“That was AMAZING!” Gold declared, finally releasing his totally cool, wonderful, talented little sibling, “Your voice is so pretty! How did you do that?”

“Oh, it’s just a little trick I picked up in Minecraft,” Like all the praise before, Purple took Gold’s astonishment with poise and pride, “Pretty impressive, huh?”

Impressive was an understatement. “How do you do that?” Asked Gold once more.

Purple hummed under their breath, tapping their chin as they thought through how to answer, “Well, it’s not hard. You do have to have some musical knowledge, but it’s pretty easy to pick up once you’ve got the basics. Green can do it, too, although,” Here, Purple let a little snorting laugh escape, “He’s stuck with a dumb ol’ flute.”

All Gold got from that was thatOTHER sticks could make music noises. Which meant… “Can you show me how to do it?” Pleaded the deep yellow stick, folding his hands together in pleading.

“Sure, just don’t bowl me over with your music,” At Gold’s confusion, Purple shook their head and apologized, “Sorry, inside joke. I’ll be happy to teach you a bit, but, maybe after we save your Dad, okay?”

That was fair, “Okay, then!” Gold nodded, “But this is a promise, okay? You’ll teach me how to do the music thing later. Promise me!” Purple nodded and, at Gold’s stern look, crossed their heart with their distant hand. Once they’d sworn themselves, Gold nodded profusely. “Good, I’ll hold you to that! ‘Cause I wanna have a cool instrument for a voice! Like, maybe an electric guitar! Or a grand piano!” Gold’s fists shook as he became utterly enraptured in the possibilities, “Or a french horn!”

“Why a french horn, of all things?” Questioned the violet stick, raising their brow as they smiled at Gold’s antics.

“’Cause french horns are awesome!” Gold insisted, hopping atop a fallen log. He spun around, arms outstretched over his head, and proclaimed, “If I had an instrument for a voice, I don’t think I’d ever shut up! I’d be the most annoying person on the internet!”

That got Gold a little snort of amusement, “Bold statement,” They decreed, “For someone who shares said internet with that Old Man.”

After everything that had happened, Gold wasn’t terribly inclined to defend his father’s coolness factor, and even if he was, he was too busy laughing to come up with anything. He laughed so hard that a tiny tear squeezed itself out of his eye, and Gold quickly reached up to wipe it away. “Hehe! Okay, maybe not the most annoying person, but I’d definitely be singing a lot more! Like, imagine how good it would sound if you were just singing the chorus of some big song, like ‘Elegy of a Rhapsody’, and then instead of skipping over the long instrumental parts you just switch to your instrument voice-”

Then, as if on cue, the elegant sounds of a violin once again echoed through the woodlands. Gold was able to recognize the song this time: Elegy of a Rhapsody, a song that served as the perfect backdrop to long training sessions. The song had been repeated in the background of Gold’s life so long that he was able to recognize its long instrumental break straight from the first chord. Hiding a chuckle behind his hand, Gold waited until Purple reached the part where the lyrics kicked back in before loudly picking up where they left off.

Honestly, in comparison to the sultry strings of Purple’s violin, Gold’s voice wasn’t anything special, but that didn’t mean he thought it was bad at all. And even if it was, who cared? Singing was fun – especially with Purple backing him up!

Excited, Gold hopped off his perch, keeping up with the singing as he started bouncing southward. Purple followed after, their violin harmonizing with Gold’s voice perfectly. Once Purple was close enough, Gold took their hand and swung them, allowing himself to be completely overtaken by the music. How could he not? For the first time since the revelation of his death, Gold felt free of worry. The Chosen One, Minecraft, his future (past?) demise, Dad’s sins… all of it seemed to melt away as he danced with his new sibling, stoking the newly sparked bond between them.

They swung each other around once, twice, and then Gold released Purple to run ahead, grappling a tree to swing around as he put his all into the chorus. Purple swiftly swept passed, pausing to pose as they filled in the spots between Gold’s words. It didn’t have quite the same energy as what Gold was used to, but the longer they sung together, the more Gold was beginning to prefer the mellow violin tones to the hyper electric guitar that he was used to.

As Purple’s section began to trail off into the next verse, Gold released the tree and allowed himself to fall into a spring, racing ahead of Purple and leaping theatrically as he began the next line. The words flowed out of him as he stepped up on a tree stump. Purple’s attention was on him, and, eager to impress, Gold finished the section by flipping backwards off the stump and into a thick patch of underbrush.

Instead of solid earth, the ground beneath his feet warped, and Gold only had a half second to register what was happening before it completely collapsed with a wooden snap. He looked up just in time to see Purple’s smile fade into shock and horror before the turf swallowed him whole.

Faster and faster gravity pulled the young stick down. The bountiful greens and browns of the forest gave way to industrial blues and grays that blurred together as he flew past. A piercing echo assaulted Gold’s eardrums; in a better state of mind, he might have realized it was his own scream, but all he could think as he plummeted was a singular string of AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!

“GOLD!”

The sudden call forced Gold’s head to jolt upwards, staring in disbelief. Directly above him, falling even faster than Gold himself, was Purple. What little light could pierce through the ground above reflected off what some small part of Gold recognized as the Elytra on Purple’s back, causing them to glimmer in the darkness. As they drew closer, Purple’s hand reached out, stretching as far as it could go, and Gold fought against the sheer forces around him to reach back. His ligaments strained with the effort, but Gold forced his arm upward, and Purple drew closer…

And finally, at last, their hands clasped around each other.

Once they had taken hold of Gold, Purple immediately spun, using their natural momentum to adjust their positions so that Purple was falling back-first and Gold was on top of them, clinging to the violet stick for dear life. His eyes clenched shut; his heart pounded so hard in his chest that Gold was certain Purple could feel it. All that Gold could hear around them was the whipping of winds and harsh flapping of the Elytra as Purple fought against the ground’s pull to save their lives.

Slowly, gradually, the beating of the Elytra smoothed out as the two’s speed began to decrease. After what felt like a painful eternity of falling down and down and down, Gold and Purple came to a complete halt. Their positioning shifted again, this time to lower the both of them down to the ground on their feet. Only once his feet made contact with a solid, thick metal floor did Gold allow his eyes to flutter open.

What greeted him was a gigantic tunnel, wide and tall enough to easily fit Purple’s entire friend group, but still somehow coming off as claustrophobic. It stretched left and right and upwards without end, the far lengths of the corridor shrouded in shadows. The angles of the ceiling and walls felt like they were pressing down on Gold, waiting to close in on him and Purple at any second. Each side of the passageway was made up of multicoloured bands that, upon closer inspection, looked almost like wires, kept in place only by thick bands of black metal running that encircled the entire perimeter at regular intervals. The metal plating that made up the ground was sturdy enough under Gold’s feet, but cold and sterile. Not even the heat of the sun’s rays penetrated this deeply down, leaving the air strangely cool.

Sans a distant electrical humming, the only sounds echoing through the tunnels were those of Gold and Purple’s heavy breathing.

“Well,” Eventually, it was was Purple who broke the silence, “That was the third scariest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Despite their smile, Purple’s arms were clenched around Gold with a vice grip, “How are you holding up? Are you hurt?”

Gold’s first attempt to speak failed, his voice simply refusing to come out. He swallowed and shook his head, then tried again. Miraculously, this time his voice didn’t fail him, “No, I’m okay,” His head swiveled around to fully take in the dark environment around them, a pit forming in his gut, “I didn’t… cause us to fall into hell, did I?” If he did, then the creators were so cruel; punishing Purple for Gold having the audacity to live in spite of fate.

To the young Ochre’s surprise, Purple only snorted off Gold’s suggestion, “Nah. I don’t know what hell you think you’re going to, but it is definitely not the same hell I’m heading for,” Before Gold could even begin to process that statement, Purple approached the siding of one of the metal bands and began to wipe away at the dust with squinted eyes, “No, if my hunch is correct…” Peaking over Purple’s shoulder, Gold found that what Purple was examining was actually a small placard of some sort, with a series of numbers and letters that Gold couldn’t even begin to decipher. Given Purple’s resulting sigh and defeated shoulder slumping, however, he doubted it meant anything good. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. These are the old Ethernet Tunnels.”

A jolt of shock went through Gold.

Long before the world of computers was connected wirelessly, sticks and humans alike would traverse the internet through tunnels of cable and wire. It was through these tunnels that the sticks who founded the City escaped their human masters, leaving behind a lifetime of abuse and enslavement for the freedom to build up their lives from scratch. Over time the tunnels had become defunct as the majority of the internet switched to WiFi, but they had still offered a path of escape for sticks who’d suffered the loss of their homepages at the hands of the Dark Lord and the Chosen One many years ago. However, according to the representatives of Rocket Corp who’d helped integrate these wayward animations into the city life, disuse had caused the tunnels to become broken down and dangerous. So, Rocket Corp took initiative and sealed off every entrance. For the people’s safety.

...which was bad news for Purple and Gold. “Oh no,” He muttered, only realizing his mistake when he caught sight of Purple’s expression drooping further. With slight panic, Gold quickly jumped out in front of the other, holding his arms out placatingly, “Uh, well, let’s think positively! We got in here, so we know the tunnels aren’t completely sealed off, right?” He gazed up, squinting against the rays of light that managed to make it down to the tunnel’s end. Gold couldn’t see the top from where he was, which made his stomach drop. Just how far had they fallen…? “Uh, we can just… climb out!” He suggested, forcing all the enthusiasm into his voice that he could muster.

“Maybe you can,” Purple retorted huffily, crossing their arms and sticking up their nose, “But I know I don’t have the arm strength for that amount of vertical climbing. No, I’ve got a better idea.”

The elytra on Purple’s back flapped once to straighten out. They dug through their bag only for a moment before surfacing with one of the rocket’s Gold had seen earlier.

“Good thing I saved these,” Purple noted under their breath before returning their attention to Gold, explaining briefly, “The Elytra can’t get any lift on their own. They’re basically a fancy glider. That’s what the rocket is for. It’ll give us upward momentum,” Purple hummed as they considered their next moves, “I’ll need one arm to hold on to the rocket, so you’ll have to cling to me as tight as you can-”

“On it!” Gold interrupted, immediately wrapping his arms around Purple as tight as he could. He met Purple’s shocked blankness with a wide grin.

Purple took a shivering breath before meeting Gold’s smile with a more frail, nervous one, “Okay,” they said, holding on to Gold with their free arm before lifting up the one with the rocket, “I won’t be able to catch you if you fall, so hold on tight!”

A boom echoed through the tunnels as the rocket ignited, carrying Purple and Gold upward faster than a speeding bullet. Once again Gold’s heart was pounding, but this time the palpitations were from excitement rather than any kind of fear. With no fear of plummeting to his death thanks to Purple’s wings, Gold was able to fully enjoy the sensation of air rushing around him and the walls transforming into a blur of colour as they ascended. The light grew brighter, and though Gold was tempted to reach up and grab for it, he dutifully kept his arms securely around Purple.

Without warning, the fizz of the rocket died down to nothing. They continued upward for a few heart-stopping seconds before Gold and Purple began falling yet again. A soft, “No…” fell from Purple’s lips as gravity reclaimed the two once again. This time they descended at a much more relaxed pace, the wings of the Elytra allowing them to slowly glide back to the safety of the ground.

Once on the floor of the tunnels, Gold released Purple, bracing himself on the wall as the dying adrenaline in his body caused his knees to shake. He took a few deep breaths before turning to Purple once more, “Okay, let’s try again-!”

“Not a good idea,” Purple shook their head, “I only have one rocket left, and we were nowhere near the top of that tunnel,” This prompted Gold to look up again, frowning in puzzlement. Just how far did they fall…? “I think we should take a look around, find another way out. As a last resort, I still have my cell phone, so we can call for help if need be.” A soft snort escaped Purple’s nose, “Some rescue mission this turned out to be.”

All of Gold’s attention returned to Purple at that moment. The other stick was scowling upwards at the tunnel they’d fallen down, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Their hair and face were slicked with sweat, and Gold’s concern only grew when he noticed awkward smudges beneath Purple’s eyes, revealing dark bags hidden underneath. Without the mask of make up and with their guard down, Purple looked exhausted, like they hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. Gold’s heart clenched as he thought about everything they’d done today – the hiking, the running, the dancing, the falling. And all of it done without a single complaint, despite how horrible Purple must have felt.

How could he have not noticed? Gold had only been a big brother for one day, and already he was screwing it up.

With his heart heavy, Gold walked in front of Purple and, making sure to move slow as to not startle his new friend, placed his hand on Purple’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” Gold promised, smiling brightly despite the ache in his chest, “Rocket Corp isn’t perfect – there’s gotta be something they missed. And if anyone can find it, it’s us!” Gold nodded confidently, and felt a little relief when Purple smiled back, “We’ll be back before anyone even has time to miss us! C’mon, let’s go!”

Having no other option, the two picked a direction and began to walk. Certainly they’d come across something eventually.

--------------------

With hope in their hearts and tears in their eyes, the two lovers took each other in their arms and slowly, gently, brought their lips together. The music in the background swelled one final time as the camera panned upwards to the moon, where swirling cursive font was brought to life by golden sparkles, spelling out ‘The End.’ Then the screen faded to black, and explosive applause erupted all throughout the living room.

Mango jolted back at the unexpected noise.

The movie, some tacky romance the kids had chosen, was something Mango had seen a few times and altogether hadn’t been entirely interested in. Even if he had been, though, Mango doubted he would’ve been able to focus on the film. His mind felt like a puddle of melted goo, memories and thoughts and wayward emotions swirling around within his stream of consciousness, with no sense of focus or direction.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen head or tail of Gold since their argument this morning. That last look Gold had given him stuck in his mind; one filled with a stone cold fury he’d never seen his kid direct at anyone, let alone himself. Every part of him screamed to go get his kid, to hug them close and apologize over and over again and never let them go. That wasn’t even including Purple, who, despite Mango’s best efforts, kept worming their way back into his thoughts. This morning’s attempt at an apology had gone poorly, and the thought of trying again made every muscle in his body twitch with the urge for flight. But it had to be done. If only he could manage to get away long enough to take care of it.

It was like there was some new disaster every time he attempted to leave his seat. The first time he tried to get up, Green had tripped and spilled his drink all over Yellow, prompting her to shout and Red to burst into laughter. Only Blue, who Mango was quickly coming to like the most despite their… awkward introduction, had taken the situation seriously, checking first on the irritated yellow child as Mango had helped her dry off before dragging the green one aside to give him a proper examination and hushed scolding. Then, when he’d tried to slip away again, Mango had only gotten as far as the entrance to the hallway before Red’s sharp shriek drew him back. Turned out the kid had cut his hand on some glass, and Mango had found himself holding a stupid Minecraft bucket of stupid Minecraft water while Blue had tended to the wound.

Even beyond those few stand out moment, the friend group was loud and obnoxious the whole way through that snore-fest of a film. The multiple instances of flirting between the two leads had the group chorusing with oohs and aahs; The few kiss scenes were somehow even worse, prompting cheering and jeering and Green leaping out of his seat only to immediately collapse back into it, laughing off Blue’s fussing while indulgently drinking the water she forced down his throat. The only one who remained blissfully silent throughout the showing was the Second Coming, and only because they were slumbering through it so deeply Mango wasn’t certain whether or not they’d fallen into a coma.

Gold’s friends, a large group of kids from both his school and sparring team who cycled in and out so often Mango couldn’t quite recall their names, were never like this. They were always respectful in his home, never making a nuisance of themselves or any mess too big to be easily cleaned up after. Unlike this group, whose manners were so abysmal that he’d have suspected them of not having parents even if it hadn’t already been confirmed.

And yet, there was a closeness between them that Mango had never seen with Gold’s friends. Not a moment passed where one of the friends wasn’t touching each other; Red sitting on the arm of Yellow’s chair while using her head to rest his elbows; Green and Blue braiding Second’s hair while they slept. Then they’d switch places, and Green would squeeze himself next to Yellow and rest on her shoulder while Red and Blue would playfully kick at each other’s feet. The displays of affection were sweet, in their own way. Mango found himself wishing that Gold’s friends were more like that.

Popping up next to the television, Blue held up a boxed DVD and asked in a cheerful sing-song tone, “Who’s up for another movie~?”

A chorus of cheers and hollers rang in Mango’s ears before he even had time to cover them. He almost found himself wishing that Gold’s friends were more like that, Mango revised as Red and Green crowded Blue.

“Wait a second,” Green squinted at the movie in Blue’s grip, “’Attack of the Gigantor Human!’. What the heck is this…?”

“It’s a comedy!” Blue explained, turning over the box and running her finger over the blurb on the back, “Or at least, I’m assuming so? ‘In a virtual world where sticks live free of humans, a mysterious destructive force draws closer… and closer… when humans find the secret to virtual reality and enter the world of sticks, can Corporal Amarillo and her team find a way to turn them back before the entire city is flattened under their heels?’ I mean, come on!” Blue shook her fists excitedly, “That sounds hilarious! And it looks so cheap! It’ll be fun!”

Green wrinkled his nose, “I don’t get your tastes. Why don’t we watch something that actually looks good? Like…” Green ran his fingers across the various movies still on display, and eventually lifted one out, “This one! It looks like it had an actual budget!”

“It’s just an action flick,” Blue dismissed, “We can watch better ones on Youtube at home.”

Before Green even had a change to retort, Red popped up between them with a third movie in his hands, “How about this one?” He smiled from ear to ear, pressing the box against his face, “It has an adorable lil doggie on it!”

“Red, no,” Blue groaned with all the enthusiasm of a child staring down a plate of vegetables, “No more cute creature movies. You cry every time something happens to the animals.”

“Sometimes he cries even if nothing happens to the animals,” Green quipped.

“Can I help it if they’re so cute?” Red’s asked in a weepy tone, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears already.

Green buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply, before peeking one eye out towards the armchair, “Yel, help us out here. What movie should we put on?”

In response Yellow jolted up straight, eyes alight with excitement, “Star Wars-!”

“NO!” All three of the others yelled back.

She scowled and threw up her hands, “Then why’d you even ask?!”

Mango watched as the argument continued with a quirked brow. Weird as it may have seemed, he was kind of enjoying their bickering more than he would any of the movies in question. As the petty disagreements continued, it occurred to Mango that they could be at this for quite some time, and so he should probably take a moment to check in on Gold. And Purple…

…Best get that over with.

Leaving the sound of squabbling behind him, Mango crept through the bedroom hallway, around the squeaky floorboards and towards his room- er, Purple’s room now, he supposed. Once stood in front of it, Mango stretched his hand towards the knob and found himself hesitating. The silence rang in the air around him, buzzing in tandem with the rapid beats of his heart. The door knob shrunk away from his shaking hand.

A vision of Gold’s glare, more angry at his own father than Mango had seen him get at anything else, played before his eyes as his son stood protectively in front of the child that replaced him Purple, screaming and yelling, ‘Get the hell out, haven’t we suffered enough-?!’ Mango shook his head free of the vision, of the sudden panic, and took the doorknob in his hold. His hand defied his mind and refused to turn for but a moment before another long breath allowed him to regain control. With an exhale, he turned the knob and pushed the door open at last.

“Gold?” He called in warning, before pushing his way in, “Do you and Purple want to come watch a movie with-?”

The door swung open, revealing the once familiar room to be empty. Mango’s brow furrowed as he stepped forward, noting the subtle differences once again. How his normal deep orange bed sheets had been switched out for soft periwinkle. The dresser and mirror had both been pushed as close to the side as Purple could manage, making the space much more open than Mango was used to. An assortment of accessories decorated both, meticulously organized by type, size, and colour. Reflexively Mango reached out to straighten the mirror, frowning lightly as the reflecting light revealed smudges across the mirror’s surface. Small, minor imperfections, but ones that were easy to see.

Upon taking note of the mirror’s dirty state, Mango turned about and took in the room with new eyes. The covers were pulled back slightly, revealing wrinkled sheets underneath. A small trace of dust had returned from the mirror with Mango’s finger. Wind carrying the sun’s warmth swept through the room, infiltrating through the singular open window.

The fear was all too quickly becoming familiar, but as quickly as they forced themselves in Mango pushed the intrusive thoughts out. Purple just… had to be bad at cleaning. No doubt that miserable failure of a father a King couldn’t teach them how to take care of themselves.

(He couldn’t even take care of his own child.)

So Purple was just bad at cleaning, then they and Gold moved on to Gold’s room. Not a problem. Mango would just move on, too.

Mango made quick strides out of the room, clenching his shaking hands into shaking fists. All he could hear was his own pounding heart and quickened breathing in his ears as he exited his- Purple’s room and stomped over to Gold’s. There was no hesitation this time. Mango took hold of the knob with a too tight grip and pushed the door open, scanning his eyes across the all too familiar room.

Nothing. There was no one there.

“Oh no, please no…!” Mango gasped out. His lungs burned as he struggled to pull in air, stumbling backwards out of the room before racing for the final unchecked place in the house. Mango wrenched open the door to the bathroom with a loud slam, his hyperventilating hastening as he was once again greeted with an empty room. “No, no, no, no, no…!”

Gold was gone. Gone gone gone gone gone-!

Thundering footsteps echoed down the hallway, shocking Mango out of his stupor long enough to look up at the three stick figures at the other end of the hallway. Green stood right ahead of him, stiff as a board, with Blue and Red flanking him on each side. His eyes widened at the sight of Mango, darting briefly to Purple’s door before returning to meet Mango’s gaze.

“You knew,” The revelation escaped with the breath he’d been holding, and before his thoughts could catch up he was bolting towards the troublesome trio, “You knew they were gone!” His hands twitched to the tune of his stuttering breath, yearning for him to reach out, to take this little liar, little deceiver, and try to inflict even half of the pain that was clawing at the inside of his chest.

Before his hands could reach their intended target, the little menace was suddenly pushed back behind Blue. Her eyes reflected nothing but coldness as she matched Mango’s glare, “You lay one hand on them,” She warned darkly, “And I’m more than happy to deliver another boot to the head.”

Mango’s eyes leapt between the three children – Blue’s wrath, Green’s palpable anxiety, Red’s guilty gnawing of the lip – they all knew. His mind flickered to all the unfortunate incidents that had occurred since then, finally seeing them for what they were: diversions. “It was all a distraction. Everything you brats did – the movies, spilling water on Yellow-”

“Don’t tell her,” Green pleaded weakly, “She’ll actually kill me.”

Ignoring that, Mango’s eyes darted to Red, who jumped slightly when their eyes met, “And you cut your hand on purpose!”

Wringing his wrapped hand, the red twit’s shoulders stiffened with tension as he responded, “It seemed like a good idea at the time…”

“And what diversion did you have in mind?!” Mango snipped at Blue.

“One where someone explains what the heck is going on!” The little brat retorted, voice pitching higher. She took a step back, arms spread wide to push Green and Red behind her.

The rage surged, and though the sight of those kids – with their fake fear and false confusion – caused his vision to run red, Mango managed to retain enough control to drive his fist into the wall instead of their heads. The bang of the wall crumbling around his hand reached his ear before the throbbing pain of his knuckles reached his brain. “Do you think this is a joke?!” He spat at the kids, feeling righteous satisfaction when all three of them flinched back at the tone of his voice, “While you all are having a grand old time, my kid,” His Gold, his baby, his little ray of sunshine in this pit of a world, “has been abducted by some miserable little purple bastard to do who knows what to him-!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Red snapped, stepping out from behind Blue’s protective cover. Before either she or Green could react he began running his mouth, “Purple didn’t do anything wrong! They just wanted to make sure King’s okay-!”

“What?!” Asked Blue with comically owlish eyes.

“Red!” Green hissed at the same time.

Mango fell back, feeling as though he’d been kicked in the head once again, “You mean to say,” He growled between clenched teeth, “That MY kid was dragged into that den of terrorists by that irresponsible brat-?!” A sudden dizziness overwhelmed him, and it was only by the skin of his teeth that Mango was able to catch himself against the wall. His vision blurred as terrible thoughts crept like spiders in his brain: Each one carrying a new, even worse way for Gold to meet his fate.

“Look, it’ll- it’ll be fine!” Green shouted back, stepping forward in spite of Blue’s shielding arm attempting to hold him back, “Purple has their phone on them, okay? I’ll call them, and you can hear for yourself that Gold is just fine.”

Unless, of course, poor Gold was answering under duress, pressured by whatever scheme Purple had planned into lying, but before Mango could even voice the thought Green had begun dialing. The sleek black device was placed on speaker so that everyone present could hear it ringing. It held the dial tone once. Twice.

And then disconnected.

Mango’s breath stilled in his throat. What- what did that mean? A million scenarios played through his mind – none of them good. Purple, hands stained with code, dragging Gold’s lifeless body away. Gold lying on the forest floor, covered in burns and bruises while the Chosen One stood over him with flame in hand. Glitches and corruption creeping up on him from all sides, swallowing Gold whole as he screamed, Daddy, daddy, help me-!

Green dialed the number again, fingers stiff with nerves. This time there was no dial tone. Instead, a mechanical voice spoke in an irritatingly calm monotone, “We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message after the tone-”

“Uh-” Green immediately hung up and tried again to call the number. Once again, that same infuriating voice gave the same generic message. “Um, okay, maybe- maybe Purple’s phone just died? Or, or they’re with King and Chosen, and can’t pick up right now! Or maybe-”

Excuse after excuse fell out of the little weasel’s mouth, each one wearing down Mango’s last nerve, until at last, finally, it broke with an audible snap. In an instant Mango had pushed Green back, getting in his face as all Green’s pathetic attempts at justification died on his tongue. “Do you even understand what is happening here?!” He screamed, vision so tunneled on Green that he barely took heed of Red and Blue flocking to his side and pushing him behind them, “My baby is out there, with terrorists and wild animals and who knows what else-?!” Just trying to imagine it was making Mango hyperventilate, “He’s all I have, and he could be in trouble, or hurt, or worse! And you just let him go without even telling his father! What if he’s dead out there, huh?! What will you brats do if you got my son killed?!”

“I was just trying to help my friend…” Green explained weakly, supported on both sides by his two companions.

“And if something bad happens,” The bitter thoughts escaped his mouth in rough, ragged tones, “It’ll be on you for letting them go.”

Green cringed away from him, a dark shadow falling over his eyes. A hand fell on his shoulder, Blue only sparing a single glare for Mango before directing her full attention to Green. Red, meanwhile, kept his eyes down, brow furrowing as he puzzled over the current situation. The silence between them was thick with tension and the buzz of Mango’s thoughts. How was he supposed to save Gold now? The Avery Woods were huge, and unlike the Chosen One they had no clue where to even start searching. If Gold was lost- or, or hurt, or Purple decided to just leave them somewhere, how was Mango going to find him? Of course he’d search that whole forest top to bottom – he’d burn it to the ground if he had to! But what if he couldn’t make it in time? What if Gold was already gone, and he was just standing here, wasting time like that joke of a king-!

“Oh! I have an idea!” Red suddenly shouted, drawing all eyes to him as he suddenly looked up with wide eyes. Without further explanation he took off, running back into the living room.

All of the sticks left behind stared after Red in a stupor. It took a few moments for Mango’s brain to reboot, and when it did he immediately registered severe indication. “Hey!” He called after the brat, marching after him with fast, heavy strides, “We’re not done here!” He could hear the others behind him, hear Yellow and Blue and Green squawking at each other, but it all blurred together into a jumble of noise as Mango’s eyes scanned the room. He knew Red had wandered over here, but where had he…?

“Behold!” A sudden loud bang rang through the living room as the trap door slammed open. From the dark depths emerged a tiny pink head, in that stupid square Minecraft style, which peered around curiously as it slowly rose, revealing a plump pink body, a pair of red hands, and then a familiar red stick head poking up with an ear to ear grin, “The ultimate tracker!”

The pig squealed once as Mango stared, utterly stupefied.

“A pig?” He asked dumbly, then repeated, just to make sure he wasn’t actually losing his mind, “Your plan is a pig?!” A Minecraft pig, on top of that. Just looking at the beady eyed thing was making Mango’s stomach clench.

“Not just any pig!” Red hopped out, cradling the Minecraft creature like one might hold one of those tiny yappy dogs, “Reuben! Our most special little boy! Yes you are!” Red pressed his face against the pigs, nuzzling it a little too enthusiastically, “Yes you are!”

“I forgot Reuben was still here,” Yellow confessed as Red drew closer to the rest, reaching over to give the pig scritches behind the ear, “His sense of smell is keener than a bloodhound’s! Even in a forest filled with critters, he’ll be able to track down Gold and Purple, no problem!”

Mango felt himself straighten up reflexively.

“Ah, yes!” Green cheered, tripping over his own feet twice in his haste to reach the pig. He rubbed its ears and its chin, “Way to go Reuben! You’re gonna get so many treats after this~!”

“Not too many!” Red scolded, gently batting away Green’s hand.

“That thing can really track Gold?” Asked Mango. Something deep within him was screaming treachery; how dare he trust something from Minecraft?! But he’d given the food a chance – if only to avoid another mess like the fight this morning – and it had ended up being nigh indistinguishable from normal pancakes. So maybe… it was only the inside of the game that was evil? If this pig could really find his missing sunshine, then…

“Well, we’d need something with the stick’s scent to find them,” Red explained, all the while petting the pig from head to tail, “I doubt anything here has a strong scent of Gold anymore…” Mango’s heart tightened in his chest. To think, all it would take was two short years for Gold’s presence to disappear from his life… “But! We can use Purple’s stuff to find their trail! Green, you mind?” With a salute, Green stumbled with heavy steps back towards his hall – to Mango’s old room, presumably, to find something of Purple’s. It wouldn’t lead them directly to Gold, but if it could point them in the direction of his kid, Mango would take anything he could get.

He watched the corner where Green had disappeared for a long moment before turning around to Red and Blue. “How soon can you be ready to leave?”

“Oh, uh, immediately!” Red proclaimed. Without any warning a bar appeared above his head, gray like stone, that made a clicking noise when Red spun through icons of food and weapons like a roulette until he reached a symbol that looked like a lasso. A red leash then appeared in his hand, which he triumphantly connected to the pig,

Yellow snorted, her nose wrinkling, “Didn’t King say to keep anything Minecraft in the basement?”

“Well, the old man’s not here…” Red waggled his eyes in a teasing tone.

Yellow, in response, merely turned and pointed at Mango. Immediately he flinched back and shouted, “I am NOT King!” The response was more instinct than anything else. He thought of himself, with that crown and those dead eyes, and felt his stomach turn.

“There you go!” Red smiled smugly, crossing his arms, “What King doesn’t know won’t hurt him!”

Mango’s brow furrowed in irritation. That wasn’t quite the effect he’d intended…

“And besides!” Red gestured with both arms towards Blue, who flinched back a little once brought into the conversation, “I’m not the only one who snuck stuff into their inventory! You were down there all morning, and I know Green snuck down there last night! C’mon,” He jabbed his elbow into his friend’s side, and she crossed her arms and pouted in the opposite direction, “Show us your inventory, Blue~!”

“I… may have grabbed a few things,” She confessed, prizing a gasp from Yellow, “B-but only because I feel weird having nothing on me! It-It’s Sec’s fault for always making us over prepare for everything!” She pointed accusingly at the stick on the couch, who responded to her slander by letting an exhausted moan escape their lips and continuing to slumber on.

“Unbelievable,” Yellow shook her head in disappointment, “You idiots broke one of the few rules King set for us… and you didn’t even bother to get me anything!” She huffed and crossed her arms, pushing back into the armchair.

A look that was equal parts guilt and annoyance appeared on Blue’s face as she scanned through the inventory bar so quickly Mango couldn’t quite catch any of the items in it, “Uh, um, you can have… this?” She selected a pickaxe, and the tool appeared in her hands. She dropped it on Yellow’s lap, and the injured stick looked less than impressed.

“Gee,” She gazed up, mildly unamused. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to get tons of mining done… from this armchair.”

“There is just no pleasing you,” Red shook his head.

It took everything in Mango to keep himself back. These kids and their- their negligence could cost him (his Gold, his sunshine, his baby, his world-) and they didn’t even care. It was like this was all one big joke to them, and he wondered, darkly, how quickly they’d shut up if he punched another hole in the wall.

(He was sorely tempted to punch a hole through one of them.)

Thundering footsteps alerted the group of Green’s return moments before his ugly mug appeared from around the corner. He was out of breath, raised hand clutched around a cheap brush like it was a lifeline. The violet strands of hair were an obvious indicator of who the item belonged to. Mango pushed away from the wall upon seeing it.

“I’ve…” Green paused to drink down a large gulp of air like a man dying, “I’ve got it…”

“That good enough?” Mango addressed the question to the room at large, but it was Red who jumped up to answer to the affirmative, “Good, then we’ve got no time to waste. You three,” He pointed individually to Red, then Blue, and then Green. “I’ll need your assistance. We’re leaving. Now. Come on, move!”

“Wait!” Yellow straightened up, arms stiff as she tightened her hold on the pickaxe. “Hold up! They can’t all go! Someone needs to stay here with Sec!” Her eyes left Mango’s to fly to Second, who had managed to sleep through all the commotion.

Mango could hear his teeth grind as the protest created a new surge of rage in him, “They should have thought of that,” He growled, “BEFORE they let my kid get dragged off to fight terrorists.” Yellow’s eyes narrowed in on him, daring to show irritation, and Mango couldn’t quite hold himself back. “When you screw up, you take responsibility for it. Something you feral brats would know if anyone cared enough to teach you.”

If Yellow’s eye twitch was anything to go by, Mango had hit a nerve. She growled and began to rise up out of her armchair, only to be pushed back into it by Blue.

“He’s right,” Green spoke up, stumbling forward with one hand clutched around his other arm, “Red and I were in on it, so the two of us have to make it right.”

“Even if I wasn’t, I’d need to go anyways. I’m the best at handling Reuben.” Pointed out Red.

Clearly sensing that the tide was turning against her, Yellow turned to Blue, her expression almost frantic as she pleaded, “Blue, come on! Back me up here!”

A war raged behind Blue’s eyes as she shifted her gaze to Second, sleeping off their fever on the couch. She then looked to Yellow, who anxiously leaned forward as much as her injured leg would allow, matching Blue’s stare with wide, intense eyes. Finally, her attention turned to Green, who was leaning against the wall, watching Red secure the pig’s harness with glossy eyes. It was here the Blue’s eyes lingered, watching Green for a painfully long moment. Her voice was quiet when she finally, finally answered, “If- If someone gets hurt, I have to be there.”

Yellow’s breath hitched when she heard that. Her hand ran through her hair, pushing the bangs away from eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You can’t be serious…” She muttered.

“It’ll be fine!” Blue assured the other with a wave of her arms, scrambling over to organize items on the coffee table. A Minecraft bucket full of water appeared in her arms, and she plopped it down in the newly emptied spot with a grin, “It’ll be hours before Sec needs another dose of medicine! Just let them sip some water if they need it, and it’ll be good!” For good measure, she put yet another item from Minecraft – a cloth one, it looked like – right next to the bucket.

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Yellow shouted back. Her grubby claws dug into the armchair, ruining its surface, “You’re leaving the stick with the twisted ankle alone with someone who’s actually sick! If something happens, I won’t even be able to stand up!”

That was a valid point, as much as Mango hated to admit it. If there was a medical emergency, Yellow at least needed to get around well enough to call for help. So, for everyone's peace of mind, he sharply marched back towards the bedrooms, opening a cabinet off to the side to reveal that King had not changed the location of the cleaning supplies in the last two years. There was a touch of relief in at least something not changing, but Mango quickly brushed that aside and took hold of the broom, walking back into the living room and unceremoniously depositing the long instrument in Yellow’s lap.

“There,” He ignored the shock on Yellow’s face as he spoke, “If you absolutely need to get up, you can use that as a crutch.”

“Are you kidding me…?” She asked helplessly, taking the broom in both hands.

Turning his back on Yellow and Second, King briskly marched towards the door and shouted behind him, “Come on! All of you! Let’s go!” Despite the tantrum Yellow was having, Mango wasn’t particularly concerned. Second had slept through the whole movie, and the arguments that had followed – he doubted they’d be any higher maintenance than just needing some water. Even an idiot could handle that. The rest of them had something far more important to take care of.

If Gold was lost, Red and his pig would find him. If he was hurt, Blue could patch up his wounds. If he was in trouble, Green would take responsibility and get him out of it. And if he was scared, then Mango would tear whatever was threatening his sunshine to shreds.

He wasn’t King. He wouldn’t lose his Gold.

With a harsh yank, Mango ripped the front door open and stepped outside for the first time since coming to the future. The internet, harsh and cruel, had barely changed since his sunshine had been killed. Flowers bloomed, birds sang their sweet songs, a warm winded hit his face with the distant scent of pollen and cut grass… it was sickening. How could the world just kept going on, as if it hadn’t suffered such a great loss?

“We need to hurry,” Red’s words cut through Mango’s loathing, forcing him to direct his attention back at the Red stick. He cradled Reuben under one arm while the other was held up to shield his eyes from the sun as he scanned the horizon. When faced with the questioning stares of his two friends and Mango, Red elaborated with a finger pointed up towards a group of gray clouds gathering in the distance, “Reuben’s good, but even he can’t track them if their scent’s been washed away. We gotta move quick, in case it rains.”

With a round of nods, the four sticks began their march towards the forest.

Gold… Mango poured his everything – his heart, his soul, his life – into a single, desperate plea: Hang in there, please. Daddy’s coming for you.

--------------------

If the Ethernet Tunnels hadn’t fallen into hazardous disrepair before they were sealed off, they definitely had in the time since. Though Purple had never even seen an image of them before, they knew that the metal floor was supposed to be lined with bright lights to help traveling animations find their way; instead it was near pitch black, completely swallowed by shadows, with only the wayward faulty bulb or sunbeam breaking through from the surface to illuminate their path. Instead of silence, the endless tunnels echoed with the creaks and groans of settling structures and the drip, drip, dripping of an unknown liquid somewhere in the far distance. Every corridor was identical to the one before. More than once, Purple found themselves wondering if they were just going around in circles.

But they couldn’t afford to lose confidence now. Not with Gold gripping on to their hand like a lifeline.

“Aw, man,” Gold whispered, his voice soft and low as though still trying to avoid notice, “This place is freaking creepy. And HUGE. It feels like we’ve been walking around forever!” Forever being a grand total of two hours or so, though Purple could hardly fault him for losing track of time in this monotonous tunnel, “Just how big is this place, anyways?”

“Well,” Purple hummed and stroked their chin with one finger, “Supposedly it runs the length of the entire internet, sooo… pretty big, I’d say.”

“Oh,” There was a tense pause, and when Purple glanced back at Gold, they found him glancing around nervously. Purple was about to prompt Gold to continue when he did just that, “Sooo… what’s stopping us from, say, ending up in another website? I’m open to adventure and all, but I’d rather not leave the City, if we can.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Purple stopped and gestured to one of the metal rings that held the tunnel in place. On it, nearly completely hidden by the shadows that ruled the tunnels, was a singular plaque. The series of numbers embossed on it weren’t easy to see, but Purple could make out enough of it to know what they were looking at, “See that? The numbers on it represent the specific web page you’re on. That is the number that represents the City. As long as we can see a plaque with that specific series of numbers, we’re good.”

As Gold stepped away from Purple just a little bit to examine the sign for himself, his hold on Purple’s hand tightened. While he examined it Gold mumbled, “Would’ve been nice if they’d included some exit signs, too.”

To that Purple scoffed, “Yeah, no kidding. Guess Rocket Corp took all that stuff down when they sealed the place up. Hopefully we’ll run into an elevator soon.”

Gold suddenly stopped, jolting Purple to a halt as well. They swiftly turned towards the kid and felt their mild annoyance melt away at Gold’s aghast expression.

“We’ve been looking for an elevator this whole time?!” He asked, shock causing the volume of his voice to increase.

“Yeah?” Purple couldn’t help the bubbly chuckle that escaped with the question. Another look at sweet little Goldie told Purple that he was, in fact, serious. “Oh. You really didn’t know?” When Gold frantically shook his head, Purple went on to explain, “The Ethernet Tunnels are divided into four levels: We’re on level four, the tunnels themselves. They span across the whole web and connect every single website. What we fell down must have been a connection shaft. Since the web is constantly evolving, new ones crop up from time to time.” With their free hand, Purple pointed upwards. “The next floor up, level three, is temporary housing for new immigrants. They stayed there while their paperwork was being processed. It’s nowhere near as big as the floor we’re on, but it’s still pretty huge. Like, about the size of a typical hotel, I think.”

That was met by a furrowed brow as Gold’s gaze followed Purple’s finger. Purple paused to give him a chance to ask questions, but none came, so they continued.

“Floors two and one are both just offices. Floor two was where they did in-processing for immigrants coming in from the world wide web. Floor one was for out-processing sticks leaving the city.” Briefly, Purple glanced upward, scanning the ceiling, “If we’re lucky, we’ll come across one of the elevators. I doubt we could get them running anytime soon, but the emergency staircases are supposed to be right next to them, and those connect all four floors. If we can’t, though, then we may be able to find one of the maintenance hatches scattered throughout all four levels. They don’t directly connect all levels like the stairs do, but there are supposed to be more of them. That’s where I’m hoping we’ll find our exit; the main entrances are probably sealed over, but there are supposedly a lot more emergency exits. Rocket Corp’s got a good rep, but they’re still a corporation, so I’m willing to bet they missed a few: That’ll likely be our exit point.”

“Oh, wow!” Exclaimed the younger of the two. Purple didn’t find the information particularly interesting, but for some reason Gold was hanging onto his every word, “I never knew that! I mean, I knew what the Ethernet Tunnels were, but I never knew they worked like that!”

Purple hummed, stroking their chin as they thought it over, “That makes sense. The Ethernet Tunnels have been sealed for a long time. I’ve only ever seen pictures in history books.”

“Me too!” Gold exclaimed, then asked, “So… how come you know so much about them?”

With a casual smile, Purple responded, “My Pops taught me.”

There was a sudden shift in Gold – a tension that caused the hand holding Purple’s to tighten unexpectedly. “Your… Pops?” He repeated questioningly.

Some alarm bell, an old warning of danger that Purple had come to associate with bullies or monsters, suddenly began ringing violently in Purple’s ears. They shouldn’t have said that. They should NOT have said that. Whenever Pops came up, whether through an old story or some lesson they’d taught Purple or some little reminder, it made King give him this Look, the same mournful look he’d get whenever Gold was on his mind. Even before seeing King’s reaction, a part of Purple had been aware their upbringing wasn’t normal. Most kids didn’t screw up training so bad they’d get bruises all over their body; they didn’t have to hear their parent cry and hold them close, terrified that some unknown specter would swoop in and destroy their lives.

Most kids weren’t such failures that their own parent would leave them behind, screaming that they wouldn’t stick around to watch their family die.

Glancing back at Gold, Purple carefully assessed his body language. His shoulders were square and stiff, and his eyes were wide, with worried wrinkles inherited from his father. The sight forced Purple to take a breath: They could do this. Just… skirt around the weird stuff and reassure Gold that everything was okay.

“Yup!” They answered back, forcing more nonchalance into their voice than they felt, “My Pops immigrated here a long time ago, and they made sure I knew how this place worked in case I ever wanted to leave the city.” Leave the city, have to flee due to some incoming disaster… those were basically the same things, right? “So… yeah.”

When Purple once again checked in on Gold, they found the kid looking like they were trying to smile through sucking on the world’s sourest lemon, which made Purple cringe. Was even that too weird for such a normal kid? Was Purple so weird he’d take back the whole ‘sibling’ thing?

They ignored how the thought made their stomach churn.

“It’s… it’s cool that your Pops taught you things like that,” Gold eventually piped up, cutting through Purple’s racing thoughts, “Dad tried to teach me how to do his boring techie stuff, but it went right over my head. I thought he’d be upset about it, but he just laughed off how bad I was. Said everyone had their own thing, and it was okay if my thing wasn’t the same as his.”

A genuine smile lit up Purple’s face. That was just like the Old Man, sentimental fool that he was. “My Pops tried to teach me how to fight like they did,” Purple revealed without thinking, “But I was a terrible student. I’d go through these long drills for hours and hours, but no matter how hard I’d try I’d still get…” Beaten down, pinned to the ground, that furious voice pounding in their ear about all the dangerous, terrible things out there that would get Purple if they weren’t careful, weren’t strong enough, weren’t good enough…!

Sudden pressure squeezed Purple’s hand so tight it began to ache, forcing them to look back at Gold, who returned their stare with impossibly wide eyes.

That look was like cold water on Purple’s face, suddenly jolting them out of their stupor. Shoot, they’d made it weird. Gold’s eyes were suddenly like needles piercing into Purple’s brain, and they quickly forced themselves to look away, dragging Gold along behind them. “Uh, anyways! I’ll keep an eye on the plaques, so we won’t need to worry about accidentally leaving the city.”

“...Okay…” Gold mumbled, and Purple wondered if it was possible for another tunnel to open up beneath them and swallow them whole. The silence weighed heavy on Purple’s shoulders for maybe a full minute before Gold spoke up again, “You know, you probably only had such a hard time learning to fight because you had a sucky teacher. If you want, I can show you the right way to fight.”

Perking their head up, Purple swiveled their head around to see Gold beaming brightly at them. It astonished Purple, leaving them breathless for a long moment, but it wasn’t long before they found themselves smiling back. Gold was just like the gang, in a way – sweet and perfect, but still somehow finding room in his heart for Purple. It was a bittersweet sensation, but one that made the violet stick feel lighter, softer. Like they could be good enough, one day.

“Heh, thanks,” Purple returned their attention to the path ahead; this time, to keep them from tripping up or missing their stop instead of to avoid Gold’s gaze, “But I’m actually learning to fight from the others. They all used to live in a fighting simulation, so they know their stuff. Well, except for Sec, because… you know.” With one hand, Purple gave an exaggerated shrugged, “I guess they learned the same way I did. The lot of them are pretty good teachers, but they make me take a lot of breaks for some reason.”

“That’s normal,” Gold scolded, never once losing his smile, “You should take regular breaks when you train! Otherwise you can get hurt.”

Purple hummed dismissively to that, “I guess. But I’m used to a lot worse.”

“…Well… that… just gives you an unfair advantage…” Gold pointed out, his voice going a little higher. It was sweet of Goldie to try and make Purple feel better like that, so Purple rewarded his kindness by falling back enough to give Gold a gentle pet on the head. In response, Gold stuck his tongue out at Purple teasingly.

The newfound upbeat mood continued as they rounded the corner, despite the dank tunnels they were stuck in, and it only got better when Purple spotted rungs of rusty metal running up the wall, indicating a ladder that must have led to one of the maintenance hatches. Once they identified it, Purple immediately dragged Gold over to show off their discovery.

In turn, Gold flapped his free arm excitedly. “Finally, progress!” His bright grin stretched from ear to ear, visible even in the darkness.

“Heh, I’ll go up first,” Purple stated, then gazed down at their intertwined hands. Just… had to let go. Let go of Gold’s hand. Release Gold so they can climb up the ladder. Relax their hand muscles and let. Gold. Go.

Gold’s eyes flickered between their interlocked hands and Purple’s face, taking Purple’s hesitation with silent acceptance. Eventually Purple was able to force themselves to release their hostage, and found that their hand now felt oddly cold. Refusing to dwell on the sensation, they instead made their way upwards. The maintenance hatch was old, and the lock was rusted, so all it took was a rough yank for Purple to open their path. Aged metal joints complained with high, volatile screeches that assaulted Purple’s ear drums with piercing pain as they forced the hatch open, ending with it smacking the floor of the third level with a loud bang.

A pungent scent of mold and dust and burnt rubber wafted in the air as Purple pulled themselves up first, then offered their aid to Gold. They’d ended up in a hallway on the third floor, stretching in both directions with doorways placed periodically along the walls. A single light struggled to function, flashing irregularly and causing a minor ache inside Purple’s skull.

“Ugh,” Gold wrinkled his nose, “Somehow this floor is worse than the last one.”

“No kidding,” Purple muttered in agreement, straining their ears for any sign of life, or danger, or anything. They got nothing but silence; not even any airflow to indicate an exit one way or another, “But we’ve gone upwards, which is… progress. Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Unlike the spiraling tunnels beneath them, the third level was structured more like an actual building and less like a tangled web of hallways and corridors. Of course, the trade-off for such structure was that, instead, they got an unsettling liminal experience. The patterns of tearing wallpaper and crooked doorways repeated over and over again, broken only by the occasional door having fallen in from disrepair, or a turn into another endless hallway of doors and turns. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, returning to them in triplicate, making two pairs of feet sound like four, or eight, or twenty in the distance. Purple knew there were too many to come from just them, but whenever they stopped, they could never pinpoint the direction of the footsteps.

This place was driving Purple nuts.

Rumbling rocks, echoing as loudly in the silent hallways as an avalanche on the mountain, suddenly assaulted Purple’s eardrums from basically nowhere. Their body reacted without thinking, throwing themselves in front of Gold with a sharp cry of, “Stay back!” and glaring down at the noise, prepared to tight tooth and nail to defend their charge.

A little pink nose poked up at the two sticks, frozen with fearful eyes and fur on end. Purple and the little rat stared each other down for one second, two, three… and then it scurried off with a frightened squeak.

Heat began to pour into Purple’s cheek. That was- that was not the best impression to make in an emergency. Though they knew they needed to face Gold, Purple couldn’t bring themselves to turn around. Instead they kept their arms up and their head forward, not daring to face any of the disappointment or mockery that could come from a professional fighter seeing Purple react to a damned rat like that.

Gold’s hand came to rest on Purple’s shoulder, and though they still refused to look back, they could hear the nerves in his voice, “Hey, I think you got ‘em, Purple. Why don’t we take a break?”

That, at last, got Purple to finally turn around and face Gold, “I’m fine.”

“Oh, I know!” Gold immediately rebuffed, “It’s just, we’ve been walking for a while, and I was just thinking, we should save our strength, you know? No idea how long we’ll be down here.”

Just the thought of that made Purple clench their teeth, brow furrowing. Cursors, Gold had just learned he would be dead in a few short months, and what did Purple do? Drag him into the forest and get him stuck in a sealed off tunnel, trapped and lost with the stick who replaced him got him into this mess in the first place. Hastily, as though to push any lingering fear from Gold’s mind, Purple jumped in front of the other and placatingly held out their hands, “We’re not going to be down here long! We’ve got a plan, remember?”

Gold nodded along, biting his lip as he watched Purple.

“And even if we can’t find our way our, we have a back-up plan,” As a reminder, Purple removed their cell phone from their pocket and held it up in demonstration, “We can always call for help if we really need-”

BRRRRIIIIIIING-

The familiar notes of Purple’s ringtone echoed through the empty hallways. By instinct alone Purple leapt back with a frightened squeal and threw the phone as hard as they could against the wall. The loud echoes were exchanged for a singular explosive crash. Its remains hailed down onto the floor and clattered as they bounced off the strange metal. Then the world went still, the only sounds remaining being the two sticks’ heavy breathing and Purple’s heart attempting to pound its way out of their chest.

After a moment, the full weight of what just happened hit Purple. “...shoot.”

“Did you see who was calling you?” Gold asked, nervously peeking out from behind Purple. He looked so tiny, all hunched in on himself, and it only made Purple feel worse.

All Purple could do, however, was shake their head, “No, but I’m guessing it was either Green or King,” No one else would call them – nobody had any reason to, “Either way, we’re probably busted.”

Taking a few steps forward, Purple knelled down and picked up the shattered remains of their cellular device, wincing as a few broken pieces of glass fell from the electronic corpse to the ground. It was safe to say that Plan B was officially a bust. Not that Purple had anyone to blame but themselves. With a sigh, they pocketed the remains of their phone and picked themselves up.

“Hey,” Something heavy weighed down Gold’s voice, something that made the hair on Purple’s neck stand on end, “Do you hear that?”

Instead of questioning Gold, Purple clammed up and squeezed their eyes shut, focusing all of their attention on their ears. The rat scurried around nearby. Water dripped, dripped, dripped off in the distance. And there, even softer, was what Gold was referring to: a distant, rhythmic clack, clack, clack that was getting louder and faster.

Oh. Oooh. Of course. Because apparently not enough was going wrong today.

Without a word Purple grabbed Gold’s hand and pulled the other stick into one of the rooms off to the side. It was once a tiny family apartment, and though it had been mostly cleared out, Rocket Corp had apparently not bothered with some of the cheaper, bulkier items. Various units of shelving and storage had been left behind, and while the mattress of the bed was gone, the frame was not. Various papers and rubble littered the floor beneath their feet, crunching as Purple dragged Gold through it. Surveying the layout of the apartment quickly, they made a beeline towards the nearby coat closet. Gold was shoved through first, and Purple quickly followed after. There was enough space for the two of them, but only just, leaving Purple uncomfortably claustrophobic. If Gold had any complaints about suddenly being shoved into a closet, he was kind enough not to voice them.

Within the closet time seemed to pass slower. Each minute stretched into hours, leaving Purple to suffocate as the closet’s darkness closed in on them. Tension rang in the air like a siren as the sound of footsteps, which had been muffled by the layers of walls between them, quickly came into focus once again. Instinctually Purple pressed their hand against their mouth with more than enough pressure to muffle their breathing, and Gold’s hands, which had been nervously clinging to Purple’s arm, tightened their grip to an almost painful degree.

The footsteps, after an eternity of echoing louder and louder, faster and faster, finally stopped outside their room. Purple’s heart pounded in their ears as they kept one hand clasped over their mouth and reached the other to rest on Gold’s, to keep the kid calm and secure by their side.

“It was somewhere aroun’ here, I’m sure of it!” A brash, loud voice called out in the hall. It was heavy and deep, and something about the suddenness of it made Purple shiver. In response, Gold’s other arm snaked around Purple’s, holding on to the limb for dear life.

“Hmph,” Another voice, scratchier and softer, “Okay, let’s begin combing the place, top to bottom. Hatchet, you and Ax start at the west end. Katana and I will tackle the east end, then we’ll close them in.”

A feminine voice responded, “Isn’t this a little excessive? This place was chosen for us specifically because it’s sealed off from the public. Nobody’s supposed to be able to get in.”

“Can’t be too careful,” The softer voice admonished, “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves too soon. The last thing we need is our targets to take note of us before we’re prepared. The secret weapon for dealing with the super stick isn’t even ready yet.”

A chill went down Purple’s spine. They… could be talking about Chosen One, but…

“We all heard the noise, Katana,” A fourth voice, deep and smooth, chided, “Unless you’re assuming there’s a gas leak and we’re all going crazy?”

“I’m assuming,” The feminine one – Katana – spat back, “That Boss missed a radio or something when clearing the place out, and it went off. Or that one of you idiots smuggled in an unapproved electronic. Not like it’d be the first time, HATCHET.”

The first voice came back, “You can’t prove that belonged to me.”

“It literally had your name on it-”

“Enough!” The soft voice attempted to yell, but their vocal cords clearly weren’t strong enough to carry at that volume, leaving the voice to awkwardly squeak, “You have your orders! Katana, you’re with me. Hatchet, Ax, clear the west end. And if you need incentive, think of it as training. Sticks living on a PC will have every advantage: If this attack is going to be successful, everything will need to go perfectly. Now, move!”

There was no more talking after that, just the sounds of frantic footsteps as everyone scrambled to follow orders. Even after they’d disappeared into the distance, Purple waited with bated breath until the silence had overtaken everything before slowly, carefully, pushing the door open. Gold tried to join them, but Purple held out a hand and kept him rooted in place until they personally vetted the place to ensure that there were no nasty surprises waiting around the corner.

It was only once Purple had cleared the area that they let Gold out in the open, and even then they took hold of Gold’s hand and dragged him behind them as they moved from room to room, using the doorways to take cover and listen out for the incoming footsteps of whatever illegal sort had taken shelter in these abandoned tunnels. And while they tried to keep their thoughts on the present, on to making sure the Old Man’s kid got out of this mess in one piece, Purple couldn’t help how their thoughts drifted back to the strange sticks’ conversation.

“The secret weapon for dealing with the super stick… Sticks living on a PC… If this attack is going to be successful…”

Worry sat hard and heavy in the pit of Purple’s stomach, gnawing at them to the point where they almost didn’t hear Gold as he risked speaking up again, “So, I know this seems bad, being stuck down here with some sort of street gang, but, on the bright side, the fact that they’re down here at all means you were right! Rocket Corp missed a section when they sealed everything off! That or they managed to open it up – either way, we’re not stuck down here!”

Gold’s elation was like a bee buzzing at the edge of Purple’s hearing – faint and distant, totally consumed by the worries echoing through their mind. Sticks on a PC were rare – after all, who would willingly live in a place controlled by humans. And sticks with super-powers were even rarer, rare enough that they could only be talking about… them.

Their friends were in danger. Their friends (who forgave them, gave them another chance, made them better with every smile and hug and laugh-) were in danger (Was this what they were hiding, did they already know, what was going on-?)

While Purple had been lost in thought, Gold had used the opportunity to tip-toe in front of them, and it took three waves of his hand before Purple snapped back into reality. When they met Gold’s eyes they could see a sheen of worry marring the hope in his eyes. That, more than anything, woke Purple up from their sudden stupor.

“Hey,” Gold broke the silence gently, mindful of the strange sticks wandering the hall, “Are you okay?”

And before they could even think to stop themselves, Purple’s mouth was open and words were falling out, “They’re after my friends.”

Purple didn’t even have time to regret their words before Gold was on full alert, “Wait, what?! For real?!” He snapped in a whisper, “Are you sure?!”

There was no stuffing that cat back in the bag. All Purple could do was nod, “Yeah, pretty sure.” Their mind was abuzz with scattered worries bouncing around their skull like a rubber ball. There was a possibility – a slight possibility – that they weren’t talking about Purple’s friends, but given the group’s luck and recent strange behavior, the probability was low, at best. “If they aren’t talking about Sec and the gang, I’ll jump into lava.” At Gold’s sudden panicked gaze, Purple quickly added, “In Minecraft.”

Obviously, that did little to relieve the other stick.

“Look, I,” Purple sighed, dragging their hand down their face, “I know you don’t know them very well, but… I owe those guys big time.” If someone had told the Purple of two years ago that they’d make friends with a bunch of borderline co-dependent PC dwellers, Purple would’ve laughed in their face. But after all the conflict, all the betrayal, after everything they’d been through together, they’d forgiven and embraced Purple as quickly and easily as if they’d always been one of the gang. Being around them made Purple want to be better… sometimes, they even felt like they could be a good person one day. And it was all because of them. “If someone’s trying to hurt them, I have to do something.”

They had to. For the sake of the ones who’d shown Purple what it really meant to be loved.

At first Gold looked conflicted, chewing his lip and furrowing his brow, but it only took seconds for the look to harden into steely resolve, “Okay,” He agreed, nodding with a confidence Purple had never felt in their life. A twinge of sourness ran through them; how could he be so sure of himself in the face of the total disaster this mission had become? “Then I’m coming with you!” A wild grin stretched across his face, “Let’s smash those bad guys!”

“No!” Purple scolded in a harsh whisper, their heart leaping up into their throat, “We’re not fighting anyone! We’re just going to… do some recon. Investigate. Maybe sabotage some stuff. But if any of those creepos find us, we’re not fighting. We’re running. Got it?”

While speaking this dire warning, Purple made sure to grab Gold’s arm with their firmest grip and stare directly into his eyes. Gold needed to understand how serious Purple was about this. No matter how much danger the others were in, they couldn’t risk Gold’s life. Not when the Old Man just got him back.

Gold slumped as though disappointed, but nodded his agreement. “Okay… no fighting.”

A relieved exhale escaped Purple’s mouth. “Good. Now, what direction did those weirdos come from?”

Making sure to keep their ears open, Purple lead Gold down the hall in the direction that the thugs had come from. Knowing that there were suspicious sticks – dangerous sticks – roaming the halls of the underground complex had Purple’s every nerve on edge. They crept along slowly, carefully, hand in hand with Gold, listening for the locations of the others as they moved from passageway to passageway and ducking into doorways to hide whenever the sounds of footsteps got too loud.

Countless minutes stretched into countless hours before Purple and Gold turned a corner to find a sudden light pouring out of one of the rooms. Gold gasped when it hit his eyes, “Purple-”

“I know,” They responded, keeping their grip on the other’s hand tight, “C’mon, let’s check it out.” Leading Gold onward, Purple sidled up to the wall and slid closer and closer to the light, their nose wrinkling as the smell of burning rubber hit them harder. Little particles of dust were illuminated by the light as they danced in the air. As they hit the frame of the open doorway, Purple squeezed Gold’s hand once, one little warning before they took a final breath to steady their shakes and ducked their head into the room.

The… empty room.

Ah. Cool. So Purple had been worrying for nothing.

Unlike the rooms they’d hidden in previously, this room was clean and well-organized… in comparison, at least. Though dust-free, the desk that took center stage in this room was covered in scattered papers that made quite an effective tablecloth for the boxes of takeaway that cluttered its surface. The kitchen, where Purple would have chosen to eat the food, was unavailable due to being cluttered with a number of wooden crates. Nearby, the source of the strange deathly smell: a glass bowl with used cigarettes, fresh enough to still be emitting little trails of gray smoke. Random devices were scattered about on the couch and floor, but given that those were likely password protected, Purple didn’t bother with them yet.

Instead, Purple dropped their backpack by the door (it was too bulky to sit comfortably with) and carefully lead Gold further in. The two took a seat at the table, which Purple noted was being lit not with an electrical light, but with a gas lamp that was clearly from some old game, though Purple was unable to tell which one. Across from them, Gold rested his hands on the table for but a moment before swiftly yoinking them away with a cringe. Something dark and, from the way Gold shook his hand, evidently sticky had remained on the table, and Purple politely kept themselves from laughing as Gold stuck out his tongue in disgust and swiftly wiped his hand again the table.

“Okay,” Purple piped up once Gold had settled down a bit, “Let’s see what we’ve got here…”

The two began looking through documents wordlessly; only the sound of distant footsteps and random creaking kept the buzz of silence away. To Purple’s surprise – and immense disappointment, to be honest – there were no codes or ciphers hiding the information that the papers contained. Each one spilled their secrets readily, and while some part of Purple felt a little put out, they inwardly acknowledged that it was for the best. They couldn’t afford to waste time here. Not when lives were on the line.

(Green’s and Sec’s and Blue’s and Red’s and Yellow’s and they hadn’t forgotten about the Old Man, still out there, still approaching the CURSORS DAMNED CHOSEN ONE as if that was a normal thing to do-)

So far, each document Purple examined was painting a pretty decent portrait of what was really going on here. The majority of them were financial records, indicative of purchases and sales made over the past, say, five years or so. What made them interesting beyond the math were the items purchased and resold – malware, spyware. All sorts of dark web trash ripe for the citizens of the City to victimize each other with.

Contraband like this could have only been smuggled in – Rocket Corp carefully controlled imports from other websites to prevent just this kind of stuff getting through. Though, in their desperation to control everything, it appeared they had accidentally created the perfect route to let in just the kind of trash they were trying to protect the city from.

Or, perhaps, not so accidentally… but that was an inquiry for another time.

“Hey, Purple…” Gold whispered loudly. Once he had Purple’s attention, Gold proceeded to slide over the document he was currently inspecting. Purple took it, brow furrowing, and flipped it around so they could read it properly. It was an inventory report. But the list didn’t contain any of the viruses or malware Purple would have expected. Rather, it listed quantities of guns, lasers, blades, grenades… and suddenly, the presence of the crates somewhere behind Purple became palpably tangible.

And yet, no secret weapon. There was nothing present that could stand up to even the display of power Second had put yesterday. Its absence clawed at Purple from the inside out. If the secret super-stick destroying weapon wasn’t here, then where was it?

With each answer they found, it felt like a million more questions spawned.

“Something doesn’t add up here,” Gold mused as though he were reading Purple’s mind, “Look at these records – their income is enormous, but they spent so much more than that on these weapons!” Gold turned around the document in his hands, which Purple could tell even from a distance was a bank statement regarding an overdrawn account. “So where’d the extra money come from? And there are a lot of package deliveries that they didn’t purchase. See? No dollar amounts, and the descriptions were redacted. What do you think those are?”

The secret weapon.

Purple swallowed back the sudden lump in their throat and instructed Gold, “Keep digging. There’s gotta something we missed.” With that the two dived back into the paperwork. Most of it was more of the same, just older. This operation had been going for at least five years, right under the City’s nose, and digging through financial documents confirmed Purple’s gut feeling that someone powerful was in on it – they were receiving subsidies during their early days, before the operation could support itself. Mildly interesting, but not what Purple was after, so they sent that to the back of their mind for later processing.

Every document had more and more of the same – sales records for viruses, purchase records for malware, purchase records for weapons, purchase records for vehicular parts… each dead end only compounded Purple’s frustration further. Some documents were even redacted, but Purple didn’t have the time or patience to try removing the ink keeping their secrets hidden. And then, underneath it all, Purple found it. A small thumb drive, darkly coloured and nearly hidden by the colour of the table.

Jackpot!

Without any warning, Purple snatched the tiny device and leapt out of their seat, racing towards where devices were haphazardly tossed on to the ground. Gold questioned after them, but Purple was too focused to respond, instead yanking the laptop open a little too hard and eagerly powering it on.

It loaded…

…and loaded…

…and… loaded… Cursors above, did they not take care of these machines at all?

Gold had, in the time since Purple had started up the machine, followed after them and took a seat next to them on the floor. Though they didn’t look back at the other, Purple could feel Gold’s presence looming over their shoulder. “So now we’re gonna hack ‘em?” Gold asked casually.

Since the loading screen had subsided to a log in screen, Purple put their focus on creating a new account. “I have absolutely no idea how to do that. But,” They held up the jump drive, “We can still use the laptop to access this, even if we can’t get into the main account.”

A light hum tickled Purple’s right ear before Gold asked, “Are you sure you should just create a new account? I mean, won’t that tip them off that someone went through their stuff?”

To that, Purple snorted, “And what are they going to do about it? Call the police?” They shook their head, “We’ll be long gone before that’s even an issue.”

With that, the new account finished setting up, and Purple swiftly plugged in the USB. The computer took its sweet time recognizing the device and loading its contents. When it finally finished, Purple could immediately see that the thing was full to the brim, but its contents were… mostly items Purple wasn’t able to open. Each one they attempted gave an alert that the software didn’t have the programs necessary to run them. But Purple remained persistent, digging through folder after folder, until, finally, they found an editable document the computer was able to draw to life.

Another minute or two of loading later, a blueprint flooded the screen of the laptop. It almost looked like a drawing of a stick at first glance, except for the notes scribbled in every margin denoting mechanized parts and motorized joints. It had weapons built into its system – blades and guns and lasers and… Purple didn’t even know what that one was supposed to be, but given the amount of force exertion the calculations nearby, it was capable of leveling buildings in the blink of an eye. Plenty of the document went over Purple’s head – the Old Man specialized in hardware and mechanics, so Purple was pretty clueless when it came anything software related, but from what they could extrapolate this thing was pretty extreme.

“Is that a robot?!” Gold exclaimed in a shrill whisper, which was still loud enough to make Purple’s heart jump, “Cooool!”

“NO! NOT cool!” Purple snapped back, feeling the pressure close in on their lungs. Their fingers shook as they removed the device from the computer with a sharp yank. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the others would be in if they actually had to fight this thing?!” They were good, but even without any experience with advanced robots, Purple could tell this thing was on a whole other level. “They’d get flattened in a half-second! And that’s being generous!”

“Hey, hey… don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Gold placed a gentle hand on their shoulder, prompting Purple to look up at them while desperately trying to fill their straining lungs. The kid was smiling ear to ear, and in spite of themselves Purple felt their breath began to even out, “We just need to find this thing and smash it before it can hurt anyone. Then there won’t be any problem, will there?”

Reluctantly, Purple found themselves agreeing with Gold’s point, “They… did mention it was unfinished…” Purple recalled.

“See?” Gold defied all known laws of physics and somehow smiled even brighter than before. He took each of Purple’s hands in his own and helped the older stick stand, “You and me? We’ve got this. Now,” Gold let go of Purple’s hands, which immediately curled up on themselves at his absence, and pumped his fists excitedly, “Let’s go break their toys! To the illegal stuff pile!”

With that, Gold lead them over to the mountain of crates that had taken over the room’s kitchenette – a starting point Purple didn’t disagree with, as if the robot was incomplete, then the parts were likely buried in one of those boxes. The stacks were much taller than either of them – likely taller than the Old Man, even – and went back as deep as the kitchenette would allow. Without wasting time with words, Gold and Purple selected a stack at random and used two chairs and both of their combined strength to safely carry down the crate on the top. It was heavy; Purple’s arms shook as they lifted, and looking over at Gold, they couldn’t help but notice how he barely even seen phased by the weight. By the time they’d gotten that thing off the stack, Gold was supporting it mostly by himself, with Purple just present to keep it from unbalancing and crushing the other.

(He was strong, and sweet, and brave, and just… just perfect. It almost wasn’t fair. How could the Old Man ever think he could replace someone like Gold with someone like Purple?)

Once Gold had a good enough grip, Purple let go of the box entirely and hopped down from the chair to help Gold lower it to the ground. Like all of its sibling boxes, the crate was plain and wooden, with not even a number or letter setting its contents apart from the others. Its weight wasn’t quite so bad when Purple was on solid ground, so they took the entire weight – still heavy as all hell, though – while Gold hopped down.

Breathing heavily from the strain, Purple bent their knees and allowed the box to drop to the ground. It fell the final few inches with a bang and a-

Beep.

Purple froze. “Did- did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Gold asked nonchalantly, stepping up to the crate. He seemed entirely unbothered as he knelled down and began pulling at the lid with his bare hands.

Alarm bells were going off in Purple’s head. They- they could’ve imagined that. All of the events from the other day had left them skittish and paranoid. But they couldn’t quite shake the sudden sense of anxiety; every hair stood on end, and their breath caught in their throat. “Wait-!” Purple forced out, stretching their hand out to stop Gold-

-A second too late. The lid snapped away from the crate with a loud wooden crack, and along with it came a loud, much more twangy snap. A black wire hung from the lid of the box, and mere moments after Purple and Gold caught sight of it, the beeping came again. Beep. Beep. Beep. With each warning the device chirped out, the sound seemed to get louder and more frequent.

Shoot. Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot-!

Purple wasted no time. Beep. They grabbed Gold’s hand as firmly as they could and bolted towards the exit, cursing their own stupidity. Beep. The doorway felt miles away. Beep. The warning sounds of the device were getting closer and closer. Beep. Barely seconds apart – Beep – at this point. Beep. They weren’t going to make it. Beep. They weren’t. Beep. Going to. Beep. Make. Beep. It-!

With no time to spare, Purple did the only thing they could think of, and pushed Gold ahead of them before wrapping themselves as completely around the other as they could.

And then the crate behind them exploded in a barrage of fire and fury. Purple gasped as they felt the force and heat hit their back all at once, a burning pain that dug into their flesh and forced them to squeeze their eyes shut. Both Purple and Gold were tossed forward onto the ground. Cold tiles hit their limbs hard, but the blunt force of that was only a discordant yell in the background compared to the screaming agony of sensations coming from Purple’s back. It burned and it ached and it stung, and Purple could barely manage to keep breathing in and out as each attempt to fill their lungs compounded the pain threefold.

They spared only enough time to catch their breath before forcing their eyes open to the sight of Gold quivering underneath them, his golden curls fanning around his head like a halo. His hyperventilating was audible as his bugged out eyes kept locked on to Purple’s. Swallowing back a sudden urge to heave, Purple forced a grin, “You hurt?” They asked, their voice gritty with the strain of speaking.

“I-I’m okay,” Gold’s voice was soft and shaky, but other than some small scrapes and bruises, he didn’t seem to be hurt. A weight fell off of Purple’s chest, even as Gold continued, “But- but your back-”

“’S fine,” Purple assured them, forcing their shaky arms to push them backwards off of the other, “I’ve had worse.” Which… wasn’t really a lie. Painful as this was, it didn’t hold a candle to the existential terror of being deleted.

Unsurprisingly, that didn’t really seem to reassure Gold in any way. “But-”

“We’ve got bigger problems,” In spite of the pain, Purple forced themselves to stand, noting with relief that Gold followed suit quickly and without any visible strain. “No way the smugglers didn’t hear that. We gotta get out of here before we’re busted.”

Still, Gold’s protests persisted, “I know, but- can you even walk?!”

“Uh, yeah, what kind of baby can’t walk?” Purple teasingly reassured the other, and then to prove their point took a stumbling step forward. It shot a bolt of agony through their back muscles, but they managed to hobble along at a decent enough speed, “See? I’m good!” They’d reached the door at this point, and Purple took hold of their damaged but mostly in tact backpack. Even Purple knew trying to wear this thing again was a recipe for pain, so instead they merely slid the strap on to their shoulder. Still stung like hell, but they could tolerate it.

Gold looked skeptical, but a series of shouts distressingly close to their location did Purple the favour of shutting down any other arguments he could have made. Without any further warning Purple grabbed the other by the hand and forced him into a shambling run. Each step was like another ember of burning agony sliding across their back, but they ignored the ache and forced themselves forward as fast as they could manage.

Behind them, the volume of the footsteps didn’t get more distant. If anything, they seemed to be getting closer, which panicked Purple all the more. When they tried to move even faster than their current pace, the resulting jolt of agony was so great that Purple nearly dragged Gold into a stumble. Gritting their teeth, Purple decided instead to change strategies. They couldn’t outrun the threat in their current state – so the only option was to hide and wait it out. Purple turned down one hallway, and then another, before ducking into a random room off to the side and swiftly shutting the door behind them.

In this room, the bed frame was turned up, and while the closet was missing a door for whatever reason, a single desk remained, pushed against the wall. Purple wasted no time in dragging Gold over and shoving him underneath before crawling under themselves. Their back screamed in protest as they curled up to hide, but Purple dutifully blinked back the tears and bit into their own hand to hide their laboured breathing. Each footstep of the searching sticks outside was like an avalanche, their calling voices ringing like a toll of death in Purple’s ears, louder and louder with each commanding yell. They tried to focus on their own breathing, to distract themselves, but the distractions hammered away at them, bringing beady tears to Purple’s eyes.

“You can’t hide from us~” The sing-songy voice of who Purple recalled to be Hatchet echoed through the hallway right outside their door. “Are you in here?” A loud creak signaled the neighboring door being opened slowly. “Oh, no~? Then how about here?” Another creak, on Purple’s opposite side this time. Their heart began hammering faster as they recognized the tone of his voice as taunting. Was this guy toying with them?! “…Or perhaps… HERE!” The doorway to their hiding place burst open with an explosion nearly as loud as the one Purple had been caught in earlier. Light poured through the doorway as a flashlight bounced around the room. But how? How had he found them so easily…?

Sudden tapping on Purple’s arm drew their attention back to Gold, who had been curled up behind Purple all this time. With large, frightened eyes, he pointed at the illuminated floor, revealing a trail of red droplets that lead straight to the desk.

Oh. Oh Cursors, no. They were going to die. And it was all Purple’s fault.

“Now, now,” Hatchet’s voice chided as he made step after step closer, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Tell you what: I’ll give you until the count of ten to come out and surrender. Otherwise, I’ll radio my partner and we’ll drag you out by force. You ready?” Purple could practically hear the smirk in the jerk’s voice, and wondered if he’d figured out Purple and Gold were kids, or if he was smug because he knew they were hurt. It struck fear into Purple, because they knew he was right. There was no way Purple would be able to protect Gold if even one of those creep came after them.

What were they supposed to do? Should they just… surrender, and hope for the best?

“One…” Hatchet began to count aloud, his confidence carrying even into the numbers, “Two… three…”

Purple tried to move forward, to at least take a look at what they were up against before deciding on a course of action, but winced as their back violently protested the action.

“Four… Five… Six…”

Before they could think of anything else, Gold suddenly pushed past Purple, and nimbly dodged the violet stick’s attempt to grab them and pull them back. Purple fought against their own body as they tried to force themselves out, only for their shaking arms to collapse and drop them to the ground.

“Seven… Eight… Nine… Te-” Hatchet’s voice suddenly cut off, replaced instead by a loud wack. From their new spot on the floor, Purple could see the other stick drop as Gold moved back, hands clenched into fists. Hatchet stumbled from the force of the blow, and Gold took advantage of the opening to close in and sock him several times in the gut. The fifth punch was dodged, and Hatchet jumped back. “Heh, cute. Aren’t you a little far from the junior leagues, kid?”

In lieu of a retort, Gold squared up and moved to punch him again. Hatchet swiftly jumped out of the way and tuttered, swiftly pulling an ax out from a personal inventory.

“Have it your way, kid,” Hatchet warned, and moved forward, ax raised high above his head, ready to smash down into Gold-!

Except… he dodged.

Gold moved out of the way of each swipe of the slow, slow ax as elegantly as if he was dancing. Everything else – the darkness, the distant footsteps, even the burning pain from the explosion – it all faded away as Purple became enamored with Gold’s movements, with his smooth dodges and swift counters. The kid fought with a grace Purple had never seen before – not even in their friends. Hatchet’s cocky attitude melted away, his mask cracking as Gold out-sped him at every turn. He swung his ax wide, and Gold jumped into a spin kick and landed a hit directly on his face. Even the sweat gleaming off of Gold’s skin was perfect, making him glow like he was in the spotlight.

He was amazing. Strong and fast and technically skilled. No wonder King was so proud of his kid.

Even Pops would be proud if Gold was their-

Swiftly Purple shook that thought out of their head. No. They couldn’t think like that anymore. Especially not with the Old Man’s dead kid.

Growling, Hatchet locked into a combo, swinging at Gold wildly while Gold danced around his ax like it was his partner. When it went high, Gold ducked low; when it swung down, Gold pirouetted around it. And after a wide spin, which Gold had ducked and slid under, Hatchet had left himself wide open, and Purple could see what would happen long before Hatchet did. Gold’s sharp elbow jammed harshly into Hatchet’s skull with enough force for Hatchet’s eyes to roll into the back of his head as he dropped to the ground.

Behind him, Gold stood victorious, heaving breaths falling from his lips as he stared down at his fallen foe before directing his ire at Purple.

Purple flinched.

“We need to care of those wounds,” Gold spoke through gasping breaths. Then, as if expecting Purple to refuse, barked out, “NOW.” In a tone that brokered no argument.

With their mouth dry and their back radiating pain, Purple nodded.

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Please be patient, the second part will be up shortly. It will be linked as 'Next Chapter' at the top of this post as soon as it's up, which may be before you finish this part anyways. This is a lot longer than I thought it'd be.

[knightmareaceblue]

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

Index

AO3

BE FOREWARNED! There are depictions of injuries in some of Purple and Gold's sections - nothing too bad, I think, but still approach with caution after the second picture. And, more importantly: Body Horror and depictions of torture. Please tread carefully during Yellow's section. I don't have a gauge for how bad it might be, but… yeah. Just in case.

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Warm ocean winds whipped around King as he emerged from the woodlands, carrying the heavy wetness of rain clouds in the distance. Hours of hiking non-stop had left King’s legs shaking like gelatin, not helped at all by the long detour he’d had to take to avoid being followed. Whoever his pursuers may have been – be it bounty hunters from the City or just a normal family commencing an illegal camp-out – there were more reasons than stars in the sky for King to avoid leading them to the Chosen One.

But this place… an inlet near the ocean, with a broken down building high above the cliff side. Deep within the heart of the Avery Woods. It seemed like a good match to the kids’ description of the Chosen One’s hiding place. King only paused long enough to catch his breath before pushing himself forward again. No more delays – he’d already wasted enough time.

No matter how hard his gut clenched at the thought of meeting the Chosen One.

Every stick living in the city knew the stories by heart – the Burner of Bandwidith, a deadly terrorist who burned entire webpages to ashes alongside their equally maniacal partner. The flood of immigrants had come with horror story after horror story, spreading fear across Stick City like a plague. Even years later, King still remembered watching the rare records of the two on the news and clutching his child tight to his chest. That terror remained with him even now, leaving his stomach in knots.

It was only the thought of Gold and Purple being safe at home that gave King any comfort against the paralyzing dread. With none of Second’s friends being willing to leave their side to introduce King, there was no guarantee this encounter wouldn’t end with him being reduced to cinders, and he wasn’t about to insist they drag themselves away. No matter how heartbreaking it had been to watch Purple beg to come along, King couldn’t let them endanger themselves just for him. If something happened to them…

…Nothing would happen to them. He’d make sure of it.

As he entered the doorway through a crooked, broken door, King noted a hole in the wall covered with plywood. Poorly. The planks were placed haphazardly, with plenty of holes to allow for animals or the elements to infiltrate the building with minimal resistance. The rest of the room was amongst the plainest constructions King had ever seen, with bare concrete walls and a singular computer desk pushed against the south wall. A solid coating of dust chipped at King’s hopes that he’d find the Chosen One here, but then he spotted a concrete staircase out of the corner of his eye, tucked away in the corner of the room.

The depths it led to were shrouded in darkness, but Purple had made sure King was prepared for that and had insisted on including a flashlight, taken from their own bag. The battery was weak, its light frail, but it provided enough illumination for King to make his way down, one step at a time.

Five meters. Ten meters. Fifteen meters. Each milestone was marked with thick white lettering, making King wonder what this place had been before it had become a den of terrorists. His every step down was accompanied by a loud, thundering echo, and a strange coolness as the heat of midday failed to penetrate. Further down. Twenty meters. Twenty five. The rooms along the way down were lifeless, machine parts littering the ground and tables. The ominous shapes of spider-like viruses cast large shadows when King shone his light inside the rooms, prompting him to move along quicker with a racing heart and an odd sense of thankfulness that the kids were safe at home.

Thirty meters.

King paused at the door on this level, noting that a soft red light shone through the cracks. The dead silence was broken by the low buzzing of active machinery, and as King approached, his ears perked as he also picked up a steady series of beep, beep, beeping. It was a sound he’d only heard on the television; calm and steady to match the beating of a heart.

Why in the name of Berners-Lee was he hearing a heart monitor? Was the Chosen One watching some medical drama?

“Hello?” King called in warning, gingerly taking hold of the knob and twisting. It was… unlocked, and the revelation that he was about to actually come face to face with the Chosen One themselves caused King’s fingers to tremble. Still, he pushed onward, a rainbow of children’s fear and grief steeling his spine.

The door swung open, and King’s eyes widened at the terrorist before him. It wasn’t the Chosen One.

Instead it was the Dark Lord himself, lying still as death upon a rickety old bed, that greeted him. Machines surrounded him; one was hooked to his arm, feeding the unconscious Dark Lord a liquid diet, another attached to his legs to gently compress and keep his blood flowing, while another still read and reported the continued beating of his heart – the machine King had heard just seconds prior. Only his breathing was unregulated, though King noted an unused oxygen machine pushed off to the side.

Some time ago, the Dark Lord had mysteriously vanished. Nobody knew the truth of his disappearance – just that he no longer joined his companion in terrorizing innocent sticks. Some rumours indicated his death in a series of mysterious explosions a few years back. Others claimed the Chosen One killed their own partner in order to send a message. Rocket Corporation’s official statement on the matter was that the Dark Lord was missing in action, and to report any potential sightings, but that they were shifting their attention to the more publicly known Chosen One.

Looking at him now, though, it was clear why he had suddenly vanished. As King slowly approached the fallen tyrant, he could see countless scars covering the vibrant red stick’s body. Some were from incision wounds and bludgeoning, but the most prominent scars were burn scars.

Electrical burns, a tiny part of King’s piped up as he inspected the patterns closer, and the memory of Second’s electric tornado came to mind. For now, King pushed it to the back of his mind.

King instead drew cautiously close to the unconscious stick and held his shaking hand over his face. After a few seconds of no reaction, King then began to prod at his face with gentle little taps. No response. A coma, perhaps? How long had he been like this…?

Fwish.

King’s heart leapt into his throat as a sudden new source of light cast a long, dark shadow over King. He spun around swiftly to find the dark silhouette of the Chosen One themselves standing at the door, both hands held at chest height with flames burning from each palm. King took two steps back, and the Chosen One echoed his gesture by taking two steps forward.

“You have five seconds,” They spoke, voice soft and smooth but still echoing through the empty room, “To explain why you’re here before I reduce you to ash.”

For a precious second King’s breath caught in his throat, and it was only when the Chosen One took another step forward that his brain kicked into gear, and he blurted out, “I’m a friend of the Second Coming!”

The Chosen One stopped, pausing for long enough that King could feel sweat beading on his forehead, before flicking their hands and dissipating the flames, allowing darkness to swallow the room once more. “Congratulations,” Their tone didn’t change even once, “You have upped to time to five minutes. Now. Explain yourself.”

Ah. So there really was some connection between them. King didn’t dare waste anymore time as he swiftly hopped into his explanation. “There was an… incident,” King began bluntly, unsure how else to describe the disaster. The Chosen One’s gaze narrowed in a bit, like a predator eyeing up its prey. King did his bet to ignore the shiver those eyes sent down his spine and continued, “Second lost control of their powers, and got hurt as a result-”

“So?” Asked the Chosen One, and the sheer, uncaring nonchalance in his voice took King aback, “What do you expect me to do about it? They’re the one with the healing powers.”

“That’s just it,” King shook his head, “They can’t use them. Their healing powers aren’t working, and we don’t know why. The kids figured you would know something about that.”

For the first time since he first laid eyes on them, the Chosen One’s expression shifted. Their brow furrowed and their jaw clenched, though they looked more puzzled than outright concerned. After a long pause, they spoke again, “Tell me precisely what happened.”

“Well, Second was demonstrating their powers at the others’ insistence,” King described, noting something like irritation cross the other stick’s face, “And circumstance led them to getting overwhelmed and panicking,” Somehow, King doubted the Chosen One much cared about the reasons for their panic. As he spent time in their presence, the bone-chilling terror was gradually beginning to fade, and King quickly found himself becoming more and more annoyed with their attitude towards their own Second Coming. “This resulted in them creating a gigantic tornado of electrical and telekinetic energy. The others managed to calm Second down, after which they used the energy to break space-time and promptly exploded. They were unconscious for a little while, and then-”

A hand suddenly held up halted King’s recollection, “I’m sorry, what was that last part?”

King cocked his head in confusion, but elaborated anyways, “After the explosion, they were unconscious on the ground. Didn’t look like they’d hurt their head, so I’d figured-”

“Not that.” They interrupted sternly. “Something about ‘breaking space-time’?”

Oh. Asking about that made a little more sense. “During the fiasco, Second managed to somehow pull two people from the past into the present. The ‘how’ isn’t precisely clear,” King didn’t think himself stupid by any means, but Second’s ‘like a keyframe’ answer felt more like they were trying relate the power to something they knew than an actual explanation. It frustrated his inner scientist, but King also recognized that they weren’t in much of a condition for further prodding, nor did he really have much of a right to do said prodding, “But it happened either during or just before the explosion.”

Chosen One stared at him for a long, long moment, before finally stating with flat skepticism, “That is impossible.”

King couldn’t quite stop himself from snorting. “Tell that to the past versions of myself and my kid back at home.” Honestly, the events of yesterday still had something of a surreal twinge to them. After hours away from home, a part of him was wondering if he hadn’t just dreamed it all up.

But of course he hadn’t. The bruises still aching on his forearms were proof enough of that. At least his hot-headed past self was good for something beyond terrorizing children.

“No, that is literally impossible. The energy requirements alone-” The Chosen One cut themselves off, “Then again, the Second Coming’s power is considerably stronger than my own, or his…” The presence of the Dark Lord was tangibly heavily against King’s back, even if he couldn’t see him. “But surely even they wouldn’t have the strength to- then again, their powers before could… and then they were injured…” All of a sudden, the Chosen One’s eyes went wide and frightened, “Tell me. Did they develop a fever?”

How had King forgotten to mention that? “Yes, it seemed to have broken out overnight.”

That had been all the Chosen One needed to hear. “We need to leave. Now.” Their hand, hot from the fire that ran through their veins, gripped King’s wrist like a vice. A hiss escaped his lips as the heat licked at his flesh; not quite enough to leave a mark, but enough to redden his skin with painful heat. As he was dragged away, King managed to spare one last look at the body lying upon the bed behind him.

Still as stone, the Dark Lord continued to slumber. A million questions rose to King’s mind as he contemplated just what that meant, but he only had a second to spare before the Chosen One had successfully dragged him away from the room.

Bonding up the steps quite a bit faster than he was comfortable with, King tried not to trip over his own two feet as he asked, “Would you mind explaining what’s going on here?”

Chosen One, attention directed ahead of them, scoffed under their breath as they mused, “How do I explain this…?” After a pregnant pause, they continued, “Breaking space-time is to break reality itself. That requires power. A whole LOT of power.”

King nodded. Okay, that made sense.

“The Second Coming’s abilities are incredible, especially compared to myself. But even they have limits. Bringing other sticks to the future must have drained every drop of energy they had in their body. When my… when the Dark Lord and I stretched our powers too thin, we’d find ourselves inflicted with incredible fatigue. Bad enough to leave us bedridden for entire days at a time.”

“So that’s what’s wrong with them?” Even as he made the suggestion, doubt crept into King’s words. If it was simple exhaustion, then why would the Chosen One seem so unnerved?

As if reading King’s mind, the Chosen One continued. “Yes, but the true trouble comes from their injuries. Subconsciously their body is trying to heal their wounds, but because they’d drained every last drop of energy from it, the healing fails. So their powers try again. And again. Until they’re healed, they can’t stop. And because of that, not only can they not replenish their energy, but the continued strain is putting incredible stress on their body. Hence the fever.”

Those words made King’s blood run cold. They brought to mind memories of machines he’d worked on in the past, whose parts had been worn down by overuse but still worked harder and harder until, inevitably, they fell apart. Or, in some more heinous circumstances, caught fire.

“So that’s what made them sick?” King asked, just to confirm. When Chosen One nodded their assent King felt his brow furrow. “They’ve been in that state for almost a full day now…”

“Then we’ve no time to spare.” At this point, King had been successfully dragged outside. Without any further warning, the Chosen One grabbed King around his waist with one arm, causing the taller stick to flinch. This didn’t give the Chosen One any pause. They merely tightened their hold and held out their opposite palm, allowing a strong jet of fire to erupt. The force of the heat propelled the two upward, and though King couldn’t do much but cling for dear life, Chosen One resumed speaking, “I’ll need you to guide me to the Second Coming’s current location. We need to get to them quickly. Or else…”

After a long, terrible ten seconds of nothing but the roar of flames filling the air, King dared to ask, “Or else what?”

“Or else…” The Chosen One couldn’t seem to bring themselves to look at King directly; instead, they directed their gaze upward at the gathering storm clouds above, “The impact on their physical form will be… severe.”

--------------------

Yellow couldn’t remember when she’d fallen asleep – only that she awoke to the sound of laboured wheezing echoing through the empty house. Heat in the air rose to suffocate her as she came to her senses, bleary eyes blinking away the last crumbs of sleep. Hands still clumsy from post-wake up grog reached up and found her glasses propped up atop her head. Grumbling in slight annoyance, she pulled them down to their proper place. Vision reacquired, she finally turned to take a proper look at Second.

The moment she caught sight of them, her eyes bulged out of their sockets.

Second’s very body was… deformed. There was no other way to put it. Unnatural hills and valleys covered the canvas of their skin; bright orange liquid beaded along their exposed head and arms. Their breathing was as visible as it was audible; Sec’s every muscle was required for the simple action of pushing breath in and out of their lungs.

Any remnants of exhaustion were quickly forgotten as Yellow scrambled to get out of the stupid, uncomfortable, UGLY armchair. In her panic she hadn’t bothered to mind her injured ankle. Once on the ground it rolled painfully, causing Yellow to waste precious seconds catching herself on the arm chair and grabbing that stupid, stupid broom that Mango had left her with instead of her friends. The ones she VERY MUCH needed right now!

(She knew something would happen, she warned them, why hadn’t they listened-?)

Using the broom as a crutch, Yellow hobbled over to Second’s side as fast as she could, working past the remnants of pain radiating from her foot. “Sec?! Second?!” She called to them, voice harried, as she sat by their side. There was no response, but Yellow didn’t bothering waiting for one. She reached out and placed her hand on their forehead.

Only to IMMEDIATELY rip it away as blistering heat scorched her limb.

Instinct had Yellow flapping her hand in an effort to numb the searing heat. As soon as that was accomplished Yellow held out her palm to inspect the damage, only for her jaw to drop and her shoulders to stiffen. Instead of the expected blistering red of a fresh burn, her hand was now smeared with something thick. And hot. And bright orange.

Bile rose up in Yellow’s throat. Her grip on the broom loosened, causing her to stumble.

Second was melting.

Second. Was. MELTING.

“No,” Fell from her lips as horror wrestled control away from Yellow, and without any regard for her injured ankle she twisted forward again, “No, no, no, no-!” Hovering over Second, it was impossible not to see it. The liquid she’d previously assumed was sweat was, in fact, Second’s very flesh turning to liquid before her very eyes. Yellow’s breathing quicken, and through her panic her mouth kept moving, “D-don’t worry, Sec, I’m here!” Though she knew they couldn’t hear her (she hoped, oh Turing, she hoped, please, don’t let them be awake through this-!), she couldn’t quite stop herself, “It’s going to be okay! It’s- It’s all going to be okay…!”

“D-don’t worry, Yel, it’s all going to be okay- grrh!”

Of course, Second didn’t respond. How could they? How could she let them suffer by themselves again?

“Come on Yellow,” She scolded herself, pushing away from Second to focus (how could she with their suffering right there?) “Think, think! Their body is turning liquid because their core temperature has risen higher than their melting point.” Which was downright horrifying, but Yellow wasn’t going to think about that. “In order to stop it, I need to lower their temperature to an acceptable range. But how can I do that-!” She caught a glimpse of the bucket of water on the table, but immediately discarded the idea, “No, it’s too little to do any good.” Also, in the state Second was in, Yellow was a little worried about literally washing their body away. Yeah, no. Not an option. “There’s got to be something else…”

She needed to lower their temperature. Fast. Despair was beginning to set in as Yellow’s scrambling mind failed to find any purchase when it came to her.

“The staff.”

Of course! The command block, amplified by the staff’s power, could alter entire climates. Yellow could bring the temperature down low enough to keep Second solid. It wouldn’t be comfortable for Yellow, but that was honestly the last thing on her mind at the moment.

Currently the staff was in the basement, set upon a table near where the offline Minecraft portal slumbered. “Hang on, bud!” She tossed back at Second as she pulled herself off the couch, noting how cool even the humid summer air was compared to their body. With both hands gripped around the broom like a lifeline, Yellow began to hobble towards the basement entrance. Her teeth gritted, Yellow uttered a solemn vow: “I’ll fix this. I promise.”

Yellow’s ankle quivered under the pressure as she pushed herself along, all but pole vaulting across the living room to King’s secret passageway. With every step she took, it felt like the trap door was stretching farther and farther away, but Yellow persevered. The pounding of the broom’s handle on the creaky wood match the pounding of her heart in her chest as she inched along, taking in quick, hard breaths as she moved.

Inevitably she reached her destination, and without much care Yellow kicked the trapdoor with her injured foot, opening it. The resulting surge of pain didn’t even slow her down; she immediately dropped down and began to descend. This, she knew, would be the most difficult part. Her injured ankle swung uselessly in the air beneath her while the other one braced itself on the ladder. One hand clung to the support while the other held fast to the makeshift crutch. In order to descend safely, Yellow would have to move her foot from one rung to the one below it, then slide her hand down the ladder. It was slow going (too slow, too slow, they were going to die, she was going to lose them-!), but Yellow made steady progress down one rung. Two. Three.

On the fourth, the broom got caught. On what Yellow wasn’t sure, but she felt the air get sucked out of her lungs as she pulled and pulled only for her crutch to not even budge. With no other choice, Yellow took the risk of grabbing the handle with both hands and pulling as hard as she could. It budged a bit under her efforts, and Yellow had all of two seconds to feel triumphant about her accomplishment before a loud snap smacked her down, pushing her off the ladder and dropping her the remaining distance to the ground below her.

It was cold and hard as it rushed up to greet her, and Yellow bit her lip to keep from crying out as her already injured ankle twisted at an awkward angle. Something Green had said yesterday, about her making things worse, came back to her, but Yellow shook off the intrusive thought and glanced around her, searching for her crutch.

She found it in two pieces, too short and fragile to be of use, and groaned in despair. “Oh, come on!” She complained aloud, as if someone would hear her. As if someone would care this time.

(Nobody listened the last time she begged for mercy. Why would anyone listen now?)

Even so, Yellow couldn’t give up – though she could no longer hear Second’s moans above her, she knew they were counting on her. She was the only one who could help now. If she let them down again, she’d never forgive herself. So she grit her teeth, rolled on to her stomach, and began to crawl.

Rocks and rubble dug into her at every angle – poking her stomach, scraping her chin, irritating her ankle. Still Yellow didn’t stop, not for a second. Her useless leg trailed along as she used every other muscle in her body to propel herself forward. It wasn’t long before her arms began to ache from the effort. A spider, or something of a similar creepy, crawly manner, ran over her hand, and though it made her shiver Yellow didn’t let it stop her. Her knee hit a particularly sharp rock, cutting through cloth and skin and causing liquid to dribble down her leg. Yellow pushed through it.

The glow of the machinery that fed the Nether Portal soon came into view, and Yellow finally found herself in the basement proper. She could see the bed and food dish that surely belonged to Reuben, the Redstone washing machine she’d designed for Red and Green nearby, and the makeshift kitchen Blue must have created just this morning. Yellow ignored it all and crawled towards the portal. Just next to it was a table. Not a crafting table nor a Minecraft table of any sort. Just a normal, ordinary wooden table. Yellow had never been sure what the point of it had been, and neither King nor Purple had been able to explain it except that it was just… there. If they needed it. At the time it had seemed the perfect perch for her precious staff, but as she clawed her way towards it Yellow could immediately see a previously unforeseen problem: It was too tall.

Just a smidge. Just enough for her to not be able to reach from the ground to pull herself up.

Another jolt of frustration ran through Yellow. Why was the universe conspiring against her today?! Oh, she’d show that table for being so tall! She’d take her pickaxe and hack it to bits, leg by leg, until no part of it-!

Oh. Duh.

Her inventory appeared above her, and from it Yellow swiftly picked out the diamond pickaxe Blue had given her earlier. With it Yellow was just barely able to gain purchase on the table, allowing her to pull herself up bit by bit. Once her hand hit the table Yellow dug her fingers into it like claws, reaching with the other one until the familiar texture of the staff met her palm.

Yellow’s breath stopped. Her body moved. She released her hold on the pickaxe and firmly gripped the staff with both hands. Using the Command Staff was as easy as using the command blocks themselves; that was to say, incredibly difficult, unless you knew exactly what you were doing. Normally Yellow would need to carefully consider the commands she offered as she typed them out; while it was amplified by the staff, however, all Yellow needed to do was will the command, and the staff made it happen. With just a thought the staff levitated upwards, dragging Yellow with it, and remained levitating as Yellow pulled herself up to lie on it. Normally when she took her staff for a flight she preferred to ride it like a surfboard, or sit on it like a witch’s broom. Now, though, she hardly cared about how she looked.

Second. All that mattered was getting back to Second.

The staff followed her will and rushed forward and upward, narrowly zipping through the tiny space that was the entrance to the basement. In less than a tenth of the time it had taken her to get the staff she was back. Yellow wasted no time. She willed the block to create a biome of snow, and a biome of snow it created. The temperature drop was immediate. Yellow could feel the humidity give way to frigid mist, and snow began to fall from block-shaped clouds drifting around the ceiling. Violent winds whipped around the living room, knocking everything off the coffee table and blowing away anything that wasn’t nailed down.

It was only when her shivering hands began to struggle to keep hold of the staff did Yellow dare to allow herself to descend to the couch where her dear friend slept. Her first glance had Yellow breath a sigh of relief as she saw their chest continue to rise and fall, but getting closer she could already tell the damage was significant.

Flesh on their face had begun to cave in. Orange stalactites clung on to their quivering muscles. Their head – their sweet, donut-shaped head – had distorted like she was seeing it through warped glass.

Seeing them so… broken caused tears to well in Yellow’s eyes. Every second she stared at their disfigured body made her stomach turn. And yet, despite this, Yellow dropped from the staff to the couch, still holding the device with one hand, and with the other she gently touched Orange’s forehead once again. It was still warm, scorching hot. They were… not okay, but still alive. She’d saved them. Yellow clung to that paltry victory even as salty tears burned her eyes. She’d saved them this time.

“Oh, Sec…” She whispered in anguish, gently brushing their hair out of their face. The soft strands had melted together; the texture like hardened slime. “Please, just hold on a little longer, okay?”

“Y’llow…?”

After seeing her friend melt before her very eyes, Yellow had thought nothing could strike fear in her heart like that again. That weak, whimpering voice in her ear proved her terribly wrong.

They were awake. All this time, while their body was turning to liquid, they’d been AWAKE.

“Wht’s… go’n on…?” They asked. Yellow could see the muscles on their face twitch as they fought against their own body, “Can’t… I can’t op’n my eyes… Wh’ts ‘appening…?”

“You…” Yellow forced herself to swallow back her horror, even as a new wave of tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She… she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let them panic themselves. Not now. “You’re running a real bad fever, buddy. It’s causing you to hallucinate.” Her hand drifted down to their cheek, pressing against it gently. Just enough pressure so they’d know she was there, even as the heat of their body burned her hand. “Just… try and go back to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up, okay?”

“Can’t,” They sobbed out weakly, “It hurts.”

Deep in her chest, Yellow could feel her heart shattering. Second… their bull-headed, overprotective, tough as nails Second… she’d never seen them in so much raw pain before. Not even when-

-The snap of the Doctor’s glove rang in her ears like the shot of a gun. He called out for a tool, and the assistant next to him handed it over with little fuss. A knife. Sharp and tiny, designed to cut through flesh. From her cage Yellow could see Second struggle to get away, hear them wrestle with their chains. But their efforts were in vain, and soon Yellow’s ears rang with the sounds of their screams-

As soon as the memory forced itself in Yellow shook it out. She couldn’t dwell on that now. There was nothing she could have done then. Second needed her here. Second needed her now. She wasn’t going to let them down. Not again.

Never again.

“I know,” She cooed as softly as she could; through some miracle, she managed to keep her sobs inside. Yellow allowed her precious staff to fall as she reached forward with both arms. One hand supported Second’s head, the other their waist. She carefully lifted and spun them both, until Yellow was sitting flush against the couch with Second curled up in her arms. “I know, buddy, but please. You have to try.”

Throughout the entire process of being moved, Second hardly mustered a protest. They merely pressed themselves into Yellow and shivered. “’M scared…” Their soft, raspy voice gasped out.

“Hush,” Yellow soothed, rubbing her hand up and down their back. The wells and bubbles made for an odd texture. “I know you are. But the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you’ll get better, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Pr’mise?” Second’s slurred voice asked.

Nodding and forcing a smile she knew they couldn’t see but hoped they could hear, Yellow vowed aloud, “Of course. I promise.”

And just like that, Second drifted off in her arms. The process wasn’t instantaneous, but she could feel their muscles gradually relaxed as Second relished in her presence and slowly began to slumber. It was only when they were completely relaxed, breathing evenly through their mouth, that the dam broke. Tears poured down Yellow’s face. Slow at first, but then quickly falling like an avalanche of grief. She sobbed as loud as she dared to and cradled her dear friend close to her heart.

--------------------

At Purple’s insistence, the first thing Gold did was bind and gag their now unconscious assailant, then stuff him in the closet like last week’s unfinished homework.

It was only after he was safely locked away did Gold help Purple to one of the better lit sections of the room. Though they were still trying to hide it for whatever reason, every movement clearly caused Purple to wince from pain. Once sat down, Purple stripped their ruined shirt on their own with shaking hands, and once it was off they hunched in on themselves as they waited on Gold. Like this, Purple looked so small and scared, and it gave Gold a first hand look at the burns covering their back. Deep, dark scorches with splatters of blood dripping down their now bare back.

Looking directly at it was probably the hardest thing Gold had done all day.

Still, he steeled his nerves and dug the first aid kit out of Purple’s ruined knapsack. What met his eye was an assortment of bandages and sprays and creams – not a large amount, but vastly overwhelming to a kid who’d never needed to perform first aid before. He remembered the bare basics from school, but Gold wasn’t sure that would be enough to fix this.

Could he do anything to fix this?

Pushing that thought aside, Gold took a rag from the kit and doused it with a generous heap of water from one of the bottles also inside the bag. Once it was soaked through, he moved to sit next to his new sibling (if he even deserved the title after all this) and slowly, gingerly, applied it to Purple’s back.

Not unexpectedly, Purple flinched the moment the cloth made contact, and Gold couldn’t help cringing in response, “Sorry, sorry,” He repeated the apology over and over again as he carefully dabbed at the wounds. Blood clung to the cloth with every touch, and Gold did his best not to think about it.

“It’s fine,” Purple reassured, though their voice was husky from the weight of their pain, “I’ve had worse.”

Worse than this?! Either Purple was lying to try and make Gold feel better about this whole mess, or…

“But Purple… didn’t give up. Even when the beam was pointed right at them and their body was disintegrating…” King Dad’s voice quivered with guilt and sorrow; it wasn’t enough. Not when he spoke of nearly killing the stick standing anxiously by his side, “They kept pushing forward, and… and by the time I’d realized what I was doing to them… they were almost…”

Gold shook his head to clear away the memory. He couldn’t afford to get distracted right now, and besides, he… he’d promised Purple.

Misreading Gold’s hesitation, Purple spoke up again, “Don’t worry too much about getting all the blood off. We just want to keep everything from sticking too much. We’re supposed to disinfect wounds like this too, but right now we don’t have the time for that. Or enough antibiotic cream.”

“Er, right,” Gold agreed absently, eyes still glued to the wounds. Now that some of the blood had been cleared away, they looked… not better, necessarily, but less gruesome. “Just… let me know if it stings too bad, okay?”

Purple nodded to that, but didn’t do much more than wince and grunt as Gold finished rinsing the wounds. There were a few points where Gold had to pause to wring out the cloth and apply fresh water to it, but beyond that he worked quickly and diligently. Once Purple’s wounds were as clean as they were going to get, Gold tossed aside the empty water bottle and used cloth and began pulling out gauze and bandages. Applying them was difficult, with his hands shaking, but Gold pushed through it to focus on dressing the wound. If Purple noticed the shaking, they didn’t say anything.

Once Gold had wound the roll around them once, Purple finally spoke up again, “Hey,” They called, and Gold stilled instantly. What was wrong? Was he wrapping them too tight? Was he irritating the wounds? Or, or maybe- “You’re wrapping too loose. These need to be tighter.”

Gold gawked at Purple. Tighter? They wanted the wrappings tighter? “But- but-” Gold stuttered out, nerves getting the best of him, “But I don’t want to hurt you!”

For their part, Purple didn’t look upset or annoyed by Gold’s panic – only a bit stunned. “Well, if the bandages aren’t stopping the bleeding,” They pointed out, “That kind of defeats the point of the bandages, doesn’t it?” When that failed to stop Gold’s quivering lip, Purple sighed, “Look, I’ll let you know if it’s too tight, okay?”

Would they? Would they, though?

Instead of voicing the thought aloud, Gold complied, tightening the bandages some. “It’s just…” That this is my fault. That I jumped the gun opening that crate and got you hurt. “You’re in real bad shape. I don’t want to make things worse.”

Purple’s head swiveled around to look at Gold, and despite the pain they were clearly still in, they smiled tiny but bright, little dimples still visible even in the faint light. “You won’t, don’t worry. Trust me, I can handle a lot of punishment.”

Gold hummed, continuing to tend to his sibling’s wounds, but Purple’s words nagged at them. “Why do you keep doing that?” He asked.

“Hmm?” Purple murmured questioningly, “Doing what?”

“Every time you get hurt,” Gold explained, “You… play it off like it isn’t a big deal. It’s always ‘nothing I can’t handle’ and ‘I’ve been through worse.’ But just because you’ve had it rough doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter when you’re hurt now.”

Their muscles tensed under Gold’s hands, but unlike before he didn’t think that this was a result of any pain. Silence reigned for a long moment as Gold continued to fuss with the bandages, and just as he had become certain Purple wouldn’t respond, they did. “It’s fine,” They assured Gold, a hint of agitation in their voice. “I’m tougher than I look. I can take it.”

“Never said you weren’t tough,” Gold softly correctly, and Purple’s eyes darted to the floor, “Just that whenever you get hurt, you always treat it like no big deal. Like it doesn’t matter, but it does.” He sighed, the breath carrying all the exhaustion and stress of the day’s events, “Like just now. It was my screw up that caused the explosion and got you hurt, but you’re not even mad about it.”

“Wha-?!” That genuinely caught Purple by surprise. Once again their eyes shot up to meet Gold’s. “It wasn’t your fault! It was an accident!”

Shivers ran down Gold’s arms alongside Purple’s words. They were loud. FAR too loud. “SHH!” Gold scolded, and Purple, thoroughly chastened, hung their head and turned to look forward again. Gold frowned, but continued wrapping the bandages. Halfway done. “You tried to warn me about the explosive, but I didn’t listen to you.” Gold’s fingers stilled for a moment as he breathed through a sudden surge of guilt and fear churning deep in his gut. So much for putting Purple first, huh? “And because of that, you were…”

There was no need to finish that sentence. Not when Gold was staring directly at the results of his actions.

“You didn’t mean for this to happen,” Purple muttered, much more mindful of their volume this time. “You were just excited. Anyone could’ve made that mistake.”

Purple hadn’t. The entire time the two had been down here, they’d kept their cool, playing the big sibling far better than Gold had. He was supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. “But you were the one who suffered because of it,” Gold remained firm on this point; it was Purple’s suffering that mattered here. “And you keep acting like it doesn’t matter. Like, it’s okay because it’s you. I mean, you wouldn’t be acting that way if I got hurt, would you?”

“That’s-!” Purple cut themselves off, hands clenching into fists, “I’d do the same for any of my friends. You can’t just ask me not to protect you. That isn’t fair.”

Biting his lip, Gold carefully considered his next move. Getting Purple to open up was like a game of chess, except Gold had no idea which pieces were which. So… exactly like a game of chess. “You acted that way when Dad punched you, too.” He decided on finally, finally tackling that lingering issue. Aside from King’s fussing and Purple’s hand waving, it hadn’t really been brought up again. “You just brushed it off and made a joke about it. Literally everyone was more upset by it than you.”

“Well-” Purple stuttered a little, clearly unsure how to address that issue, “I mean, he’d just learned his kid was going to die. I can’t really blame him for overreacting a little.”

“That was more than ‘a little’,” Gold scoffed, “But, even when we’re talking about King Dad almost KILLING you…” Bringing up that memory made Gold shiver, “He looked more upset about it than you did. Any time someone else is suffering, be it me or Dad or one of your friends, you’ve jumped to their aid. But when it’s you, you play it off and act like you’re alright.” Gold’s trembling fingers halted as his anxiety began to overwhelm him. “Why?”

“I…” Began Purple, but Gold swiftly cut him off.

“And don’t say it’s because you’re used to it!” He snapped, a sudden burst of anger flaring within him, “If you just say you’re used to it, I’m actually going to start crying!”

Something like a startled laugh fell from Purple’s lips as Gold’s warning hit them. Once it was out, they stayed silent, each second counted by the harsh beating in Gold’s chest. He’d overstepped. Oh Cursors, he’d overstepped. Oh no, no, no…

His internal panic was cut off by Purple’s voice; soft and scratchy, raw with emotion, “Your dad says stuff like that too, you know?” They sighed, heavy and weary, finally letting the mask slip and their exhaustion show. The weak light highlighted the bags under their eyes, “That I don’t have to prove anything anymore. That I’m enough, just the way I am.” Shaky violet arms wrapped around the sullen stick, and Purple shrunk in on themselves, making themselves smaller. “But… it’s never been that way before. Everything I’ve ever done – ruling a Minecraft kingdom, stealing the dragon egg, helping your dad with his revenge – it was all to impress people who wouldn’t even give me the time of day.”

Gold couldn’t imagine living like that. Everything he’d ever done, succeed or fail, his father had been endlessly supportive, so long as Gold was following his heart and doing right by others. Making each and every action about the opinions of others… it was so foreign to Gold that he couldn’t even wrap his head around the concept.

“It’s not that I don’t care that I’m hurt,” Purple continued, “In a shocking twist of events, being in pain is painful. But I’ve been living like this for so long, I… can’t really turn it off. Heh,” A ghost of a smile, as cold as the winter, flashed on to Purple’s face. “Pretty pathetic, huh? I know I don’t have to impress anyone anymore – King and my friends like me for me, and they’ve always encouraged me to just be myself, no matter what. And I’m trying. I just… don’t know how to stop.”

For a moment Gold remained silent, taking in Purple’s words. He knew, of course, that Purple had issues – they were an abuse victim for cursor’s sake! But this… this was far beyond what Gold expected. Love had never been something Gold had to earn, not in his life. He’d been showered in it from the moment he was born.

And Dad used them. Dad took this kid, desperate for someone to love them, and…

No. Not the time.

“Well, now you have someone to remind you to cut it out!” Gold chirped, resuming wrapping the bandages. Just a little more to go. “If I catch you hiding your pain again, I’ll make sure to smack the stupid right out of you!”

Hearing Gold’s threat stunned Purple, causing them to sputter and gape at Gold, who matched their confusion with a cheeky smile. “Isn’t that… kind of hypocritical?”

“That’s siblings, baby!” Gold chirped, and he relished in the laugh it pulled out of Purple. He finished wrapping the bandages at last, their whole back now protected in a layer of thick white gauze. When Purple’s giggles quieted down, Gold continued, “Because I meant it. When I said we’re siblings now.”

Gold spoke those words with as much conviction as he could manage. Because even if Purple was only hanging around with him for King Dad’s sake, even if they just though Gold was some annoying punk who got in the way, Gold wanted them to know, more than anything, that someone was on their side for once.

Purple bowed their head, and Gold’s heart almost stopped when he heard their muffled sobbing. Anxiously he spun around to meet Purple face to face, only to be met with a brand new smile. One that stretched from ear to ear, making their dimples larger. “Sorry, I promise I’m not upset.” At Gold’s skeptical look, Purple laughed out, “Really! Really! I’m not! I’m just… I’ve never had a sibling before. And you’re so… honestly nice about everything. I’m not used to it, ‘s got me a little emotional. That’s all.”

This time, Gold was inclined to believe them.

--------------------

Birds chirping echoed in the space between the trees. The path ahead, worn trails in the grass forged by animals traversing their home, was lined with flowers and bushes of all shapes and sizes and colours. A warm wind pushed through the woods, carrying with it the scents of pollen and pine. The blaring sun that had once beat down on their heads was now masked by a shroud of gray clouds.

It was peaceful. Beautiful, even.

It made Mango sick to his stomach.

Before him, the kids and their pig walked along in mostly silence, only broken up by the tracker’s continued sniffing and oinking. Red held its lead, managing the group’s pace as he kept hold of Purple’s brush. Behind him Green trudged along with unnecessary hobbling. He’d been just fine when they’d left, but not long after they’d hit the forest his pace had slowed and his walk had grown unsteady. Frustratingly, he refused to complain aloud, instead continuing with his passive-aggressive show of exhaustion. Arguably, Blue was even worse, buzzing around her two friends like a bee. She didn’t say anything, just hovered as if she were waiting for something to happen.

He couldn’t say for certain how long they’d been following the pig’s nose as it led them through the forest. But it was too long. With every passing minute he could feel his child’s suffering, the mortal terror that had consumed them as Purple guided them further and further into this den of nightmares that was the Avery Woods. The terror was bone-deep, making Mango stiff as he marched behind the group with long, fast paces. There was no speeding this process up; he’d dared to try once, at the beginning of the forest, only for Red to rebuff that Reuben needed to concentrate if they were going to find anything, let alone his Gold.

There was nothing he could do but follow along and pray for his sunshine’s safety.

Another few paced later, Red chirped up, drawing everyone’s attention, “Uh, Blue, remind me: Is this the way we came last time we went through these woods?”

One brief moment of shock later, the nervous Blue responded, “Er, no. The trees are all different, see?” She pointed out the low-hanging branches of the woods surrounding them, “The branches hang lower, and the leaves are a darker shade of green.”

“Wow, you can tell all of that just from the branches?” Red asked, looking up at the trees they passed. Mango huffed. What did the types of trees matter? Did these kids really care so little about his missing child that they could just casually talk about the Cursor damned trees of all things?!

(You need them, Mango. You need their pig to guide you to your baby. Don’t lose your head.)

The question seemed to have left Blue puzzled as well, “Uh, yeah? There’s also the shape of the leaves that gave it away. The ones we passed the last time we went through these woods were distinctly star-shaped, while the ones in this section of the forest are mostly lobed, with some pine trees scattered around-”

“NERD!!” Red interrupted without warning, causing all present to flinch back at the unexpected volume of the shout. Mango himself was able to contain his response, only digging his nails into the skin of his arm, but he could see Green stumble out of the corner of his eye.

Although Blue too was taken aback by Red’s sudden yell, she swiftly pulled herself together with an annoyed scowl, “What- you were the one who asked!”

“I only wanted to know about where we are now,” Insisted Red with an ear to ear grin that struck Mango as insincere. He was lying, and he damn well knew it. “You’re the one who went all technical on me.”

“Screw off!” Blue shouted back, not buying into his words one bit. Her attention was now fully focused on Red; she barely even took notice of Green approaching from behind, tensed as if to grab her. Oh, if those idiots started a fight when his sunshine was still lost in these woods, there was going to be HELL to pay. Mango could already feel his hands curling into tight fists.

One hand raised up as if to placate Blue’s sudden spike in temper. The other held firm to the pig’s lead. “Whoa!” Red cried out, as if she was the one unnecessarily escalating things, “Okay, okay! I’ll just go ahead and… leaf you alone!”

Silence.

For a long, stunned moment Blue stood still, all of the tension leaving her body in an instant. A sound like a choked snort escaped from her nose. Then a chortle, barely contained by a bit lip. As she struggled to contain herself, Blue managed to get out, “Did… did you say all that just to set up that pun?”

It took a moment for Green to shake himself out of his stupor, but once he did he immediately swept forth and tossed his arm around Blue’s shoulders. “Pfft, are you kidding?” He asked, voice infuriatingly light and playful, “This is Red we’re talking about here. You really think he has the brains to lead you on?”

What was happening here? Mango’s eyes darted between the three of them, as if expecting one of them to magically start making sense and explaining.

A mock offended gasp fell from from Red’s lips, “How dare you! I’m a comedic genius!” He snorted and held his nose up high, “If you really can’t understand that after all time, then I think you need to take a nice, long… lumber.”

“Okay,” Blue scolded, though a laughing tone in her voice betrayed her true thoughts, “Even you have to know that one was awful.”

“Eh, wasn’t my best,” Red agreed. “Maybe Green’s right. When it comes to jokes, I’m all bark, aren’t I?”

That did it. All at once the three broke down into laughter, leaving the once mute forest brimming with the echoes of their merriment. Mango’s eyes darted between them, his mouth agape. How… how…

How DARE they?!

“What is the MATTER with you all?!” He snapped loudly, cutting through the jovial mood like a knife. All laughter immediately ceased at the sound of Mango’s voice, and though that brought him cathartic satisfaction, he didn’t let up, directing all of his attention at a stunned Red, “Is this all some kind of joke to you brats? My CHILD’S life is on the line, and you’re just goofing off like this is some field trip!”

Each kid had the fun sucked out of them in a unique way: Green seemed thoroughly stricken by the accusation, expression appropriately ashamed, while Blue looked more like she wanted to try and kick him again. And Red, the little instigator of this mess, had halted his forward march and was staring back at Mango like he was the crazy one.

“Take a breath, old man,” Red scoffed back at him, and the use of Purple’s nickname made his nose wrinkle up, “Even if Gold and Purple were in danger – which, come on, I’ve seen arcade machines more dangerous than these woods – showing up all tense and paranoid isn’t going to make the situation any better. It’s best we go in with a calm, clear mindset.” He smiled wide and threw out his hands, nearly smacking the nearby Blue in the process, “And what better way to clear the mind than with a couple jokes? Best way to beat a bad mood is with a good sense of humour, I say!”

He topped off the remark with a cheeky smile, and Mango’s blood began to boil. Before he knew it he was marching long, angry strides towards the little clown, and with herculean effort managed to avoid strangling the brat. Instead, he lowered himself to meet the stick eye to eye, “Do you think is funny, you little punk?!” He spat, noting the other wince away from his voice with no small satisfaction.

“I think you need to chill out a little,” Red rebuffed, pushing him away. Green and Blue had reached them, each tensed as though expecting a fight, but Red waved them off. “You don’t think we’re worried about Purple and Gold too? Of course we are! But panicking and blowing up at each other isn’t going to solve anything!”

“Oh, quit pretending you care!” Mango snapped back, “Literally this entire time you’ve just been fooling around! You expect me to believe you’re taking this seriously? Have you ever had a single serious thought in your life?!” Red’s eyes narrowed in on Mango, and he reveled in the reaction, “The only useful thing you’ve done the entire time I’ve known you is bring up that pig, and only because you wanted to break King’s rules and take it outside! I’m sure your friends wouldn’t be laughing so much if they were the ones in trouble, now, would they?” Mango snorted, “Not that it’d matter to you. It’s all one big joke, isn’t it? If it’s anything else, you’re absolutely useless.”

Hardened eyes met Mango’s glare. The smile had been successfully wiped from Red’s face, giving him an appropriately dower expression. His fist, still clenched around the pig’s lead, tightened, “…You,’ He muttered as he turned around to resume the chase, “Have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Any satisfaction Mango might have gotten from knocking Red off his high horse was quelled instantly by Green’s sudden grab of his arm. When he looked down at the brat, Mango could see all traces of guilt washed from his expression, replaced instead by the same type of anger Blue had. “That,” He sneered at the adult, “Was uncalled for. Red’s just trying his best to keep us from worrying. You have no right to speak to him like that!” Green’s eyes shifted, “This is my fault. If you have a problem, take it up with me.”

Perhaps, on another day with any other issue, Mango might have respected that Green was taking responsibility for his friends’ screw ups. Now, though, all he could think about was how their stupidity could cost him his life, his light, his baby everything. “Forgive me,” He snapped back coldly, “If I’m not able to hold my temper when your little friend is making stupid jokes while my child has been kidnapped-!”

“Okay, one,” Blue chimed in from his other side, drawing his attention away from Green, “Purple didn’t kidnap anyone. They’d sooner jump off a cliff than hurt King like that.” Without giving Mango much of a chance to refute the statement, she continued, “And two: your attitude isn’t helping anything! Even if Gold was in trouble, you screaming at everything that ticks you off will only make everything worse for everyone!” Her eyes narrowed up at him, “Gold included.”

How dare she bring up Gold, like he was just some… some trump card that would automatically win the fight?! “Don’t you talk about my kid!” Mango snapped back. “I just found out I was going to lose him, and then he disappeared! And you brats did nothing to stop it! I have a right to be FURIOUS!”

“And I get that!” Blue shouted back. “You don’t think I’m upset too?! Purple and Gold go missing, and I’m completely left out of the loop! I’m livid!” Out of the corner of his eye, Mango could see Green shift and look away, but didn’t have enough time to gauge his reaction before Blue demanded his attention again, “But you don’t see ME taking it out on people! Because I’m not a massive toolbag!”

Mango opened his mouth toss Blue’s words back at her when Red cut through their argument, “Hey!” He shouted, drawing all eyes back to him. No longer was Red’s attention on any of them; rather, Red was focused on the pig, who’s sniffing and snorting had increased in intensity. Mango suddenly straightened, his hair standing on end.

They found something.

Squealing loudly, the pig raced forward, and everyone ran after it, argument all but forgotten. Branches smacked into Mango’s face and dug into his arms, but he hardly paid them any mind. They were closing in on Purple. On Gold. His kid, his sunshine, he was just within arms’ reach. Let the forest tear him to shreds; as long as he could get Gold out safely, that was all that mattered. No matter what happened.

No matter what else was at stake.

The pig lead them through the bush and bramble for some distance, running along at a speed the sticks could only barely keep up with. Mango’s lungs pounded in rhythm with his footsteps, his every heartbeat yearning to reach his child’s side as quickly as possible. After running through bushes and trees and trails, finally the pig halted, squealing loudly and sharply as its snout pointed soundly at their final destination.

Upon laying eyes on it, Mango felt his blood run cold.

“What is this?”. Green asked. After running that distance Blue had wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close, and Green went along with it, resting his head on her shoulder, “Some kind of mine?”

“Can’t be.” Red debated. He was knelt down next to the pig, stroking its head, while his eyes remained firmly glued to the entrance of the underground tunnel. “It’s too… fancy looking. More like a subway station. But why would there be a subway in the middle of a woodlands nobody ever visits?”

Without any thought, Mango’s mouth began to move. “This isn’t a subway,” Though it was his voice speaking, the words felt distant, like an old recording, “These are the Ethernet Tunnels – the old way of moving between websites. But they’ve been abandoned, and fallen into disrepair. They’d been sealed up for being extremely hazardous.”

And his kid was down there. His kid was down there.

Even Red had lost his lackadaisical stance, brow furrowing and stance tense. “But, wait, Green said they were following after King. So why would they go down there…? The Chosen One lives on the surface.”

“Maybe they’ve burrowed underground.” Green quipped sourly, “You know. Like a rodent.”

Blue’s confusion was clear in her voice, “Um, probably not?”

Though the arguing continued, the voices of the kids grew more and more distance as Mango shambled towards the tunnel like a zombie. Even Purple disappeared from his thoughts entirely, any anger evaporated underneath the crushing weight of fear that suddenly pressed down on his chest.

Everyone knew about the Ethernet Tunnels. How the tunnels had been closed for being dangerously unstable in the wake of wireless internet travel. The fact that Rocket Corporation suspected criminals like the very Chosen One they were seeking used the tunnels to escape the authorities only cemented the decision to close them off to the public indefinitely. It could collapse (crushed under rubble, suffocating, reaching for help) or have become unstable (glitches eating at his skin, pulling him under, deleting him byte by byte) or be filled with monstrous villains-! (The Chosen One and The Dark Lord, standing tall above his child, glaring down their noses as they prepared to reduce him to cinders…!)

Trembling, Mango’s fingers flew up to pull at his hair, his collar, anything he could use to ground himself, to escape the suffocating terror. Gold was down there. Gold was down there. There was no denying this fundamental truth. If Mango wanted his kid back, he needed to move. Now.

While the others were still bickering about how and why and other unimportant things, Mango made swift strides towards the entrance of the tunnels. They were supposed to be sealed in some way – Mango’s memory of how precisely escaped him (if it had even been mentioned at all – Rocket Corp was convenient for all who lived in the city, but it had a bad habit of skirting around the details) but it was probably supposed to be brick or concrete – anything lesser and even a scrawny teenager (like Gold, he was so strong, but so small, he was just a child) could break through. And yet, the entrance wasn’t even locked. One simple tug and it opened right up without a hint of resistance.

“Hey-!” Green called behind him, voice a thousand yards away. “We can’t just go in! We need a plan first!”

Mango only barely made out what he said: the throbbing pulse echoing in his ears distorted them like water. But even if he had been listening, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nightmares played on repeated in his head, again and again, and those terrible visions spurred him on in spite of the danger he knew was down there. It wasn’t long before he could hear the resolute plodding of footsteps following after him, but Mango paid them no mind.

All that mattered was Gold.

--------------------

From the safety of the closet’s entrance, Purple clung to its frame as they watched Gold take slow, careful steps towards their prisoner. The stick remained unconscious, slumbering on in blissful ignorance as Purple’s sibling (sibling, Gold really wanted to be their sibling, Cursors-!) knelt down next to him and began patting him down. Purple’s breath stalled in their chest. It wasn’t long before Gold’s hand was reaching into his pants pocket, and emerging triumphantly with a piece of paper. Excited, Gold held up the paper and waved it at Purple, who briefly mimed opening it, and Gold complied. His eyes scanned over it before his smile came back in full.

Ah. So he’d found it, then.

Gold was back in the main room in a heartbeat, and it was only when he was safely back by their side did Purple allow themselves to relax. “You were right!” Gold exclaimed in a harsh whisper, “He did have a map on him!”

“Well, of course I was right!” They bluffed with confidence, reaching over to rustle Gold’s hair. He rewarded them with a big, full-faced smile, all sweet and sugary. Deep in their chest, Purple felt their heart began to melt. How could one person be this sunny? “Who in their right mind would venture around this place without a map?” It could have just as easily been that they’d memorized the map, though, or had a digital copy on a password protected phone. Thankfully, their gamble paid off. “Sorry to make you do the hard part, though.”

Already Gold was shaking his head, “Hey, it’s no big deal. You’re hurt, and I’d already handled that joker once.” He huffed and flexed his arm. “If he wanted another beat down so bad, I’d be happy to give it to him!”

Snorting, Purple guided Gold towards the flickering light source. There was still a part of them that riled with envy, but any thoughts of jealously were growing weaker, fading into nothingness just like with the gang back home. Gold was like them in a lot of ways, bringing out the best in Purple just by being around.

Besides, no harm in a healthy sibling rivalry, right? (They really had a sibling now, holy heck!)

The two of them opened it up and took a look. “Okay,” Gold’s finger jabbed into a room labeled ‘base’, which they assumed was the room they’d accidentally blown up. “So, we know we were there… and then, where did we go?”

Reaching into their short-term memory, Purple’s own finger reached down and traced the room, before gliding down the hallway, matching every turn they’d taken until they reached the hallway that Purple was fairly confident was right outside their door. “Pretty sure we’re… here.”

“Wow!” Gold’s bright, shiny eyes looked at them in amazement. Like he actually admired Purple. That was still something they were getting used to. “I don’t know how you remembered all that. You’re incredible!”

Still, no harm in playing it up a bit. “Naturally,” Purple made a show of preening over the praise for just a second to draw a little giggle out of Goldie. Once they’d gotten that out of their system, Purple returned to work, “So that puts the nearest exit…” Their eyes skimmed over the map, until at last they spotted their target: the elevator. Purple stretched their other hand, ignoring the slight strain it put on their injuries, and pointed to it. “Here. Hmm… It’s not… too far.”

In fact, it was seven hallways away. Five straight, two right. That shouldn’t have been a problem, in theory.

The reality of the situation was that Purple couldn’t move very fast right now. Even walking to the doorway to watch Gold pickpocket their prisoner had been a challenge. As they were now, Purple wasn’t much more than a burden to be carried.

As if reading Purple’s mind, Gold piped up, “We’re gonna need to be careful if we want to get through unscathed,” He mused, looking over the map. “Those thugs went out in pairs of two, so that guy’s partner should be around here somewhere. And by now the other two may be in the area as well. If we’re gonna get out in one piece, we gotta be sneaky.”

“Luckily, sneaky is my middle name,” Boasted Purple, and neither of them brought up the incident in the woods where Purple had accidentally given away their position. “We’re going to have to take it slow, but we should be able to handle it.” Their eyes met Gold’s, and when Gold smiled with sincere affection, Purple returned it. “Together.”

“Yeah,” Gold agreed. “Together.” Given that Purple was the one who would be navigating, they would be holding on to the map, putting it in the pocket of the vest Gold had loaned them. Their own shirt was in tattered pieces somewhere in the corner. Wasting no more time, the two stood, and Gold allowed Purple to use him as a crutch to make maneuvering easier. They only stopped in front of the closet door. “Um,” Gold’s hesitation made Purple’s brow furrow. He wasn’t about to suggest… “Shouldn’t we untie him or something? This place is huge, they might not find him for a while.”

He was. Cursors, grant them patience. “He’ll be fine,” Purple waved off. “They’ve got a nice blood trail leading from their base to here. I’m sure someone will come for him eventually.” Exactly where the blood trail had come from hung over the two siblings, but neither acknowledged it. Honestly, it didn’t matter all that much to Purple if someone came for the guy. He’d tried to hurt them. More importantly, he’d tried to hurt Gold (The Old Man’s kid, his life, their new sibling, the nicest person in this whole damned internet…) He could rot in that closet for all Purple cared. That said… “But we should grab his ax. If he does wake up and get free, at least he won’t have his weapon.”

To that Gold agreed, and quickly found and handed the item to Purple before turning around. With Purple’s back in the condition it was, they’d mutually decided that Gold should handle Purple’s backpack. Gingerly Purple maneuvered items inside their rough sack around, so nothing would get damaged, before fitting the ax in as best they could. With its size, however, the handle ended up sticking out. If Gold had any complaints about that, he kept them to himself. Instead, once everything was packed away, he threw Purple’s arm over his shoulder, and the two began their escape.

It was rather slow going as the two made their way through the halls. Purple’s injury was the most obvious call of the delay, forcing the two to hobble along at a snail’s pace. Even this was irritating Purple’s wounds, but despite Gold’s concerns, it was more important for the both of them to get out alive than cater to Purple’s pain. Gold seemed unhappy about that, but he understood.

Navigation proved to be another issue. In spite of his excellent martial arts skills, Gold apparently possessed the memory of a goldfish. (That wasn’t too mean, was it? This whole sibling thing was tougher than Purple thought.) At every potential turn he stopped and looked to Purple for direction, and Purple would have to point out the correct way. His constant double-checking wasn’t without its charmed, but there was no denying how it slowed their progress.

One hallway from the exit, the echo of words reached Purple’s ears. They perked up and swiftly turned to face Gold, who was standing stiff and still as he too heard the familiar voice.

“-ordered me to get to the nearest exit and stand guard, sir.”

“I see… dumb move, going after potential intruders on his own, but I can understand his reasoning.” The voice was the light and scratchy one from earlier. “Alright, continue standing guard. Katana and I are en route with reinforcements. ETA five minutes or so. Radio if you need anything.”

“Roger that, Revolver. I’ll be on standby until you arrive.”

The voices went quiet. Pushing down the surge of panic, Purple got Gold’s attention with a tap on the shoulder and gestured as well as they could towards an open doorway. No guarantee of safety, but it would be easier to plot with some walls between them and their opponent. Gold responded with a curt nod, and the two filed into the room as quietly as they could manage.

“Don’t panic,” Was the first thing out of Purple’s mouth the second they thought it was safe to talk. Just saying that, they knew, wouldn’t be enough; Gold’s hands were trembling as Purple took them in their own. Still, there wasn’t much more they could offer than words to set his mind at ease. “We’ve come this far, Goldie. We can do this.”

With a sharp inhale and a steady exhale, Gold nodded his agreement. “We can do this,” He agreed breathlessly. His hands squeezed Purple’s, stiff but no longer shaking.

Good enough, Purple decided, and began to lay out the situation. “We have less than five minutes,” They recalled, “So whatever we do, we need to do it quick.” Purple tapped their chin with their finger, “I don’t want to put you at risk, but… do you think you could fight that guy? Like you did the last one?”

A grimace crossed Gold’s face. Not good news. “I don’t know… on one hand, the space is a lot more open. My fighting style involves a lot of movement, so it’d be easier on me. But on the other hand, he’s a lot bigger than the guy from before. More muscular, too.” After pausing a moment in thought, Gold decided, “If I was careful I might be able to win, but it’d take too long.”

Okay, that plan was a no-go, then. “What if we snuck up on him?” They suggested instead. “If you could get in a clean blow to his head, do you think you could knock him out?”

“Not with my bare hands…” Gold sighed, and Purple felt their shoulders slump as their mind raced with new ideas. Before they could pull any of them together into a coherent plan, Gold suddenly brightened up, “But, wait…” He reached back, grabbing the handle of the hatchet in Purple’s backpack, and pulled it out, “If I used the back of this ax, I could probably get enough force to do it!”

“Probably isn’t good enough, Goldie,” Purple chided sternly, “We only get one shot at this. Can you do it? Yes, or no?”

Gold turned the ax over in his hands, musing over the question. It only took a moment for him to look back at Purple, determination dancing in his eyes like fire. “Yeah,” He nodded confidently, “I can do it.”

Purple smiled, and Gold echoed the gesture. “Great,” With Gold’s help, Purple picked themselves up. Their back ached in protest. All Purple could do was breath through it. “Okay, so you stay here. Hide in the shadows, and when I lure that guy over, take him out quick and quiet.”

“Quick and quiet,” Gold repeated, nodding, “Got it. But wait… how are you going to lure him over?”

That was the tricky part. “I’m going to have to use myself as bait,” Purple revealed, and when Gold began to protest Purple quickly shushed him, “I know, it sounds bad, but hear me out: I’m going to draw him over and pretend to be dead.” It wouldn’t be the first time Purple had played possum. People tend to ignore those who were already defeated, so playing dead was a vital survival strategy. At least, that’s what Pops had always said, “It’ll catch him off guard long enough for you to get in a clean blow.”

“But, still…” Gold didn’t seem sold quite yet. “What if he hurts you?”

“I’m not too worried about that,” Brushed off Purple, “After all,” They winked, all bright and playful like Red would do, “I have my big brother looking out for me.”

Okay, Purple knew they were playing dirty with that one, and a part of them cringed to say it aloud. But it did the trick. Gold’s eyes lit up again. He pumped his fist and nodded firmly. “Okay!” He agreed, and though there was a hint of his previous nervousness, it was almost entirely buried.

By his desire to look out for Purple, of all things. He was just as weird as his Old Man.

(That was why their chest felt so tight – the weirdness. Nothing else to it.)

First Gold helped Purple to their place in the hallway just outside the door, getting them to the opposite side of the hallway and kneeling next to them as they laid limp on the ground. Once Purple was properly set up, Gold retreated to his hiding spot in the shadows, a dark spot with a good view that even Purple, knowing he was there, had trouble seeing him in.

The trap was laid. Now all that was left was to cast the bait.

Rubble was easy to come by in these ruined tunnels, so Purple took a bit of concrete and tossed it against the nearby wall. In the empty hallways the sound echoed like a siren, and the resounding call from Ax (Purple was pretty sure that was his name. Ax… Ax? Were he and Hatchet related?) made the hair on the back of their neck stand on end. “Hatchet? That you?”

“Easy…” The familiar voice of their Pops rang out in their mind, the same way it used to do when they were… around. “Relax all of your muscles. Hold your breath as long as you can… if you need to breath, do it quietly, through your nose, when they’re not looking.” Purple followed Pops’ words like they used to, as familiar as riding a bicycle, “There you go, Blossom… Now, if anyone breaks in, just fall back and pretend to be dead. Nobody’ll bother messing with a corpse.”

Footsteps approached, harsh and rapid stomping against the ground that had Purple fighting against their instincts not to tense up. Each step had the sound become louder, closer, and to avoid making any movements Purple focused all of their attention on a nearby piece of debris. Focus on the pebble, they told themselves, focus on that and don’t look, don’t look, don���t look…!

The air changed as the stick bent over them, so close Purple could feel his breath on their arm. “What the…?” He mumbled, so quietly even Purple could barely hear his words. All of their muscles were as lax as Purple could make them; the only exception was their lungs, which burned with the effort to hold in their breath.

Dread hung in the air, hot and heavy like the breath of the stick hovering over them.

A click of a button, “Rev,” Ax’s voice rang out, and Purple bit their lip to keep from gasping out, “Think I found the intruder-”

Thunk. The sound of the wooden back of Hatchet’s weapon hitting Ax in the head caused Purple to flinch, although by that point the ruse had accomplished its task. Ax’s remaining breath escaped in a gasp of pain before he crumpled and fell.

With a bit of effort, Purple turned themselves to face Gold. His shaking hand quickly found Purple’s, pulling them up as quickly as they could in spite of Purple’s wounds. They didn’t waste time with words; no doubt Gold heard Ax call over the radio too, which meant they had precious little time to make their escape.

“Ax?” Called Revolver’s soft voice over the radio, “Ax, what’s going on? …Hold on, Katana and I will send the reinforcements ahead of us. It’ll be there soon.”

“You two dumb scribbles better be okay-!” Katana’s voice yelled through just before the radio cut off.

Purple and Gold exchanged a glance, one look that communicated all the fear that both of them felt, before hobbling towards the exit together. With their brother’s help, Purple was able to move a lot faster than before, but at the cost of waves of agony rippling down their back with every movement.

“Sorry,” Gold whispered the second he noticed, “We can’t exactly take it slow right now.”

“I know,” Purple responded, biting back the usual wave of brush-offs that had become second nature. They doubted Gold would take kindly to another ‘I’m used to it’ after earlier, “Let’s just focus on getting out alive, and we can deal with the rest later.”

That compromise seemed to set Gold’s mind at ease for now, and so the two continued. Past the broken down elevator, into the emergency stairwell concealed behind a big red door. The steps were small and metallic; each footstep was met with a pattern of pounding clangs as Gold and Purple raced up in tandem, as quickly as they could manage. The only sounds that echoed louder were Purple and Gold’s gasps for air as their lungs worked overtime to keep oxygen flowing through their stressed bodies. The emergency lights that would have once made this room glow red were almost completely depleted, leaving flickering ruby to illuminate Purple and Gold’s steps. The visibility was poor, and had the two not been clinging to each other for dear life, Purple wondered if one of them would have tripped trying to get up these stairs.

Quickly, the two reached the landing and spun around to race up to the second level, the In-processing Offices. Through the little slit on the entrance, Purple could see barren offices, even more empty than the abandoned apartments now beneath them. Gold pulled them past it quickly, his eyes never drifting from their destination. The two ascended the next flight of stairs, up to the next landing. Freedom was within their grasps.

Halfway up the next staircase, the door exploded open somewhere beneath them. Gold gasped and tried to speed up their pace even more. They didn’t get much farther than the Out-processing Offices entrance before something – something metallic, something cold – grabbed hold of the two and tossed them into the door. It’s wooden frame crumpled like paper against the force, and Purple gasped as they bounced and rolled across the floor through the empty space. The ax dropped out of Gold’s hand, clanging loudly against the ground. A burning sensation crawled across their entire back like sharp electricity, keeping them pinned to the ground. They squeezed their eyes shut and hissed.

“Purple!” Gold gasped out nearby, and his too eager hands spun them off of their back and on to their side. It wasn’t much of an improvement.

Before they could even recover enough to do more than breath raggedly, loud stamps shook the floor of the office. Gold’s breath hitched momentarily before his presence shifted to put himself in front of Purple, and at last the violet stick summoned their strength and wrenched their eyes open.

What stood before them was the very robot whose blueprints they’d seen not an hour ago – near as tall as King, with broad construction and thick metal making up every part of its body. Each individual part was covered with a thick coat of armour; its eyes shone a brilliant cyan as they locked on to Purple and Gold and aimed their arm at them. With a series of metallic clicks and whirls the arm transformed, and what Purple could only guess to be some kind of arm cannon was pointed at the siblings instead.

A glance upward revealed Gold had frozen in place above them, hands still clutching Purple to keep them propped up. His eyes matched the stare of the bot, wide and terrified, with little shrunken pupils. “Purple,” He spoke quietly, “I don’t think I like robots anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” Purple muttered, returning their gaze to the robot, “I thought the weapon hadn’t been completed yet.”

“Hmph, so you’ve learned that much.” The scratchy softness of Revolver’s voice soon joined them as they stepped out from behind the machine. In the glow of the cyan light, Purple could make out that they were a touch shorter than Purple themselves, and quite slim. “I suppose we haven’t been careful enough with our security. Got lax, thinking they’d always be around to protect us.”

While Purple glared daggers at the new stick, refusing to show fear in the face of almost certain demise, Gold cocked his head in confusion. “Wait,” His eyes narrowed as he tried to see around Revolver, “What happened to the other one?”

Revolver cocked their head, but didn’t get a chance to respond before Katana took her cue and burst into the room, gasping and panting like she’d just run a marathon. She collapsed to the ground in a breathless heap, moaning out, “How… how are you… so fast…?”

Her entrance had everyone staring for a long five seconds, stunned and a little confused. After that, Revolver shrugged her off with a simple, “Anyways,” And turned back to Purple and Gold, “I’m impressed you’d managed to gather that much information. It’s true; our secret weapon isn’t quite finished yet. There is special equipment we’ve yet to install, and it hasn’t been field tested yet.” Looking them over with an analytical eye, Revolver smiled, deceptively sweet, “But I think this is a perfect opportunity to perform one. Don’t you, Katana?”

“As long as… I don’t… have to do it… anymore…” She huffed, lifting herself off the ground.

“So it’s settled,” Revolver took a step forward, waving their hand out dramatically, “Delta-A,” The robot swiftly snapped to attention, “Eliminate the intruders.”

The cyan lights in its optics switched to a menacing red glow as its gaze narrowed in on them. Purple’s body reacted before the fog of confusion could lift, pulling them backwards away from the machine in spite of the constant protests of their burns. Gold, too, moved back, arm outstretched to shield Purple as Delta-A took slow, heavy steps towards them. It aimed its arm cannon at them, light glowing within as it charged up with fatal energy. Unable to stand, all Purple could do was brace themselves for the moment of obliteration.

Before it could finish its attack, Purple heard a quickening metallic patter of thunk, thunk, thunk approaching rapidly. They gazed up just in time to see Revolver neatly jump to the side while Katana got knocked to the ground yet again. Delta-A, being a robot, didn’t deviate from its assigned task, and so didn’t move to defend itself when a foot clonked it in the side and knocked it off balance. The cannon’s position shifted, and went off somewhere to Purple’s left. Gold moved quicker than Purple’s eye could catch, huddling over them to shield Purple from the resulting explosion. Rubble and dust flew through the room at lightning speeds.

Finally, after a long moment filled only with the sounds of Gold’s gasping, he carefully moved off of Purple. Dust clouded the air, but through its shroud Purple could see a familiar figure; Tall and furious, standing above the fallen droid. He spun around, and the blaze of his furious stare pierced through the cloud between them.

“Dad!” Gold shouted out, shock and relief pouring out in equal measures. The same elation hit Purple as well – up until Mango spun around at his kid’s cry and met Purple’s eyes. A fire lit in Mango’s gaze, something dark and angry that had Purple flinching into Gold, trying to shrink into their sibling.

Welp. They were dead.

It wasn’t just Mango, though. Not long after he made his dramatic entrance, Blue and Red and Green rushed in after him, knocking over Katana once more in the process. The three zipped to Purple’s side in a heartbeat, crowding them the same way they’d crowded Second just this morning. Blue and Green braced Purple’s one side, while Red joined Gold in supporting their other, and the four of them helped Purple rise off the ground at last.

“You okay?” Blue asked, holding Purple’s gaze with clear worry in her eyes. Looking directly at them was surprisingly intense; the concern shone through like the moon reflected light.

All Purple could do was avert their attention and stare down at her feet, “Yeah, ‘m fine, it’s no big deal-”

“Don’t you start with that again,” Gold scolded, his hold on Purple tightening ever so slightly.

“Hmph,” Revolver stepped back into place, swiftly drawing their gun and aiming it at the group. Mango moved away, sweat dripping down his brow, as Revolver casually strolled around the group. Behind them, Katana popped up again from her second unplanned collision with the ground, “It’s just one thing after another today… Delta-A!” Immediately the robot leapt up from where it was collapsed on the ground, “Did I not tell you to destroy these intruders?” Its eyes glowed red again as Revolver scoffed, “Gonna have to report that bug up the chain.”

Everyone crowding around Purple moved to defensive stances – Red and Blue released them to stand as shields in front of the pack while Green and Gold helped Purple take some steps backwards. Mango, ahead of them, backed up to place himself between Gold and the weapon.

Blue and Red exchanged a singular glance between them before nodding in sync and charging towards Delta-A. The bot switched quickly from the slow-charging arm cannon to an arm blade and swiped at its attackers, who dodged in different directions. Blue flowed around its attacks like water, weaving and dodging with ease, while Red swept in to deliver a hit with a diamond Minecraft Sword. Then the robot would focus in on Red, and he’d parry and counter and block while Blue would charge in with her own sword, delivering a combo of slashes and cuts that would knock the bot back.

Pressure at their side redirected Purple’s attention to Green, who nodded his head forward in obvious indication of his intentions. Ah, right. They should probably make their way out while the villains were distracted.

Not two steps towards the exit, however, a single shot from Revolver’s weapon had the group stopping in their tracks. He stood cool and collected in front of the door, on the opposite side of the room, while Katana by his side smiled wickedly with her own blade drawn.

Two more shots rang out. Green released Purple to jump in front of the group and deflect them both with a diamond sword. The force of the gun had him stumbling back, all but tripping into Gold and Purple behind him. Suddenly Green was the one in need of support, gripping Purple’s shoulder and Gold’s sleeve painfully tight. Revolver reloaded his weapon, spinning the barrel dramatically before aiming his gun again, but before Green could react the diamond sword was snatched out of his hand.

When Purple looked up, they almost expected Blue or Red to have broken away from the robot for a last minute dual sword save. Instead, to their surprise, they saw that it was Mango who’d taken the sword, knocking away a single shot as he charged forward at the two of them. He first swiped at Revolver – quite clumsily, Purple noted with concern. The charge only worked because it caught the gunman off guard. Katana, on the other hand, was not so easily startled, immediately deflecting the blade away from her long-range cohort and making Mango stumble back a few steps.

“Aww,” She cooed mockingly, “First time holding a sword?”

“I’m going to make you pay,” Mango spat back sourly, holding his weapon with both hands, “for trying to hurt my son!”

Katana only giggled in response, charging him again with a flurry of quick slashes. She was toying with him. Purple could tell immediately – the slashes were faster than Mango could react, but instead of disarming him or killing him outright she instead hit only the blade, leading him in a deadly dance of her own design.

“He needs help,” Gold whispered, having clearly noticed what Purple had.

Green was moving forward without even being asked. “I’m on it,” He promised, switching his weapon to a diamond ax. Purple’s full weight shifted into Gold as Green released them and charged forth. His heavy swing was met with only air as Katana broke away from Mango and jumped back. Her eyes darted over Green’s form, poised but off-balance, before she darted back into the fray. She met King’s blows head on but had to dodge Green’s, giving him an advantage.

What evened the odds was Revolver, whose sudden shots would force Mango or Green back at inopportune times and create openings for Katana. When one of her opponents would try and break off to take them out, Katana would shift gears and focus her efforts on whichever one had attempted to escape her. She was fast and hit hard; between Green’s clear dizziness and Mango’s inexperience, it took both of them to keep her occupied.

Purple bit their lip, cursing themselves for letting a simple injury hold them back. Even with Gold’s help, it was taking all of their strength not to fall over at this point. And if Gold broke away to join the fight, it would leave Purple wide open, an obvious target to get the group to back down.

They were stuck in a deadlock.

In the midst of battle, Katana suddenly ducked down below an uncharacteristically off-kilter swing from Green. She dropped into a sweeping kick, knocking Green to the floor. Purple would have expected him to bounce back up immediately, maybe cartwheel into a counter-attack, but his reaction time was oddly slow; Green was only barely able to stop himself from hitting the floor. Mango’s own attempts to intervene were quelled by a sudden rush of bullets from the freshly reloaded Revolver, forcing Mango’s attention away from Katana.

A twisted grin crept on to her face as she raised her blade again, and Purple’s heart dropped. They opened their mouth to call out-

-only for Katana to be knocked back, a fresh arrow sticking out of her arm. Familiar green swirls poured from the wound, and Purple felt a sense of karmic satisfaction at Katana’s growing revelation that she couldn’t lift her arm all the way. Their eyes followed the path of the arrow to Blue, crossbow in hand, who sighed in relief at the sight of Green safe.

…Leaving herself wide open for Delta-A to break away from Red and attack her from behind. The blade struck her shoulder, causing Blue to gasp out in surprise at the sudden blow. She crumpled forward, clutching at the wound with one hand. When Red darted forward to intercept, the robot quickly performed a spinning attack that knocked Red across the room before it raced for Blue.

Green and Mango both attempted to move in, but Katana slid in front of them. Her sword was clutched in her other hand, and though there was a clear strength difference compared to her dominant arm, she was still fast enough to play the defensive and drive them both back. Revolver’s swift shots stalled Red’s progress, and Gold gasped as Delta-A drove its blade into the ground, just barely giving Blue enough time to roll out of the way. She attempted to stand, but was forced back into the dirty tile by Delta-A’s foot smashing into her spine.

Purple’s heart stopped. Blue was going to die. Blue was going to die, and there was nothing Purple could do about it. They had nothing: no skills (just like Pops always said, so useless-) no time to run interference, no weapons-

Wait.

“Quick, turn around!” Purple commanded Gold, shifting to put their weight on his shoulders instead of his side.

Gold complied, even as he asked, “Why?”

“You’ll see,” they muttered, digging through it with one hand while keeping himself braced on Gold’s shoulder. They didn’t dare let their vision shift to Blue until their hands clutched around their prize.

There was only one rocket left. This was their only chance.

Purple took careful aim. Their arms were shaking as the muscles in their back struggled to support the weight. Gold, however, was quick on the uptake this time; his arms reached back to help steady the rocket from behind, freeing up Purple to focus on aiming. Their tongue stuck out as they focused all of their efforts, and once they had a good enough shot, they shouted, “Hey, tin can!”

Amazingly enough, Delta-A looked back, just in time to be struck by a rocket and sent it flying.

“Seriously?” Revolver snapped at the weapon, the loudest and scratchiest their voice had gotten, before swiftly moving to dodge something tossed at their head. Unfortunately for them, that something was an Ender Pearl, so when Red struck them from behind with the hilt of his blade, Revolver could do little else but fall forward.

Katana gasped and abandoned her fight, falling to her knees to help Revolver back up. Gold noted the opening immediately and shouted for everyone to make their escape. Green hurriedly rushed to pick Blue up, the two stumbling against each other as they gave one another the support they needed. Red filed towards the door, standing guard as he ushered everyone out ahead of him. Purple winced as Gold maneuvered to drape them over himself, their arm around his shoulder as he dragged them over to the door. From the corner of their eye, Purple could see Katana already getting Revolver to their feet.

Mango, who’d joined Red at the door, spoke aloud the very thought that entered Purple’s mind, “Gold! Come on, we need to hurry up!”

“We’re trying!” Gold snapped back, more panicked than actually angry, “But Purple’s hurt pretty bad! We can’t go any faster!”

Not for lack of trying, though. Each step brought a new shock of pain down Purple’s spine; it showed in how their legs and arms shook with the effort of moving. Mango’s eyes darted between the two of them, anxious and worried, before he bit his lip in grim determination and surged toward the two.

After everything that’d happened, Purple had almost expected to be shoved off of Gold and left on the ground, so it was quite the surprise to instead feel a pair of gentle hands lift them into the air. Their eyes flew up to Mango’s, who averted his gaze as he shifted to hold Purple as best he could with minimal touching of the wounds. In hopes of making it easier, Purple wrapped their arms around the taller stick’s neck, taking the opportunity to look behind him at Gold, who stood stock still in shock.

“Come on!” Mango yelled behind him as he began running, Purple clutched in his hold. The bumpy motions of movement were incredibly unpleasant, but ultimately easier to endure than trying to run themselves. Gold quickly took the hint and followed after, easily keeping pace with his much taller father. What had taken Gold and Purple nearly the entirety of their time limit took only a mere minute without Purple’s wounded body holding them back.

(Had that been it? Had this entire thing gone south because Purple was the one holding Gold back?)

As they rose, the air got warmer and warmer, until at last they reached the fancy entrance. It had been built to impress; even without furniture or plants, the architecture was sturdy and held up beautifully, especially compared the lower floors. The fleeing group passed under domed archways and ran by faded spots on the walls where paintings once hung. The carpet beneath them cushioned the sounds of everyone’s footsteps, so Purple could hear the metal clanging from behind them as their attackers gave chase. Each echo made Purple’s heart pound just a little bit faster.

The entrance gave way, swiftly kicked open by Red, and Purple squeezed their eyes shut as sunlight hit their face for the first time in what must have been hours. Wind around them carried a thick humidity that indicated rain to come. When they managed to force their eyes open, Purple could see storm clouds gathering above – not the thick darkness of thunderclouds, but enough to easily leave them drenched if it started to rain.

All the while they didn’t stop moving. Green and Blue were in front, leading the way, while Red brought up the rear of the group. Mango stayed in the middle of the chaos. He’d continued holding on to Purple, but glanced behind himself every so often to make sure Gold was still following behind. Loud oinks cut through the noise, and the group paused momentarily as Reuben ran out from behind a nearby shrub. Shocked by its sudden appearance, Gold gasped and jumped away, but Purple couldn’t find it in themselves to feel the same surprise. After all, how else would the group have tracked them through the forests so quickly?

That sure was some pig.

Not twenty paces away from those accursed tunnels, the leaders of the pack were startled by a wall of blazing fire that suddenly sprung up from the ground. Blue and Green stepped back, arms quickly stretching out to keep anyone from accidentally running too close. Everybody turned to look behind them, where Katana was supporting Revolver with her one good arm as the two stumbled through the entrance. Delta-A leapt down and landed next to them – at first Purple wondered if it had been flying, but one look up was all it took to notice the scorched leaves barely clinging on to their trees.

It had been so silent catching up to them – Purple hadn’t even noticed it was so close. (Sloppy, weak, going to get themselves killed-!)

“I tire of this,” Revolver muttered, only barely audible under the roaring flame around them. “Delta-A: Finish them.”

Delta-A crouched down, braced itself, and then leapt nearly twice as high as Gold had earlier, landing back in the same tree it’d fired from. Once again it’s arm transformed into a cannon, aimed directly at the people Purple loved.

And this time, there weren’t any rockets to stop it.

--------------------

King had only been in the air for maybe a few minutes, at best, but already he could confidently say that flying was overrated.

Hot air suffocated him, exasperated by the flames King was very aware were mere centimeters away from scorching his exposed legs black. Wind hit his face constantly, causing unpleasant pressure where it pushed against the momentum of the Chosen One’s flight. It also guided a fair amount of bugs directly into his eyes and nose, which was unpleasant at best. And that wasn’t even considering the clouds around them; at the speed they were traveling, each drop of rain would sting, and that wasn’t considering any lightning or thunder that might pop up.

Why Purple seemed to enjoy this so much was something King could never understand.

Flashes of light just barely visible from the corner of his eye drew King’s attention away from the open skies and down toward the ground. Somewhere between the trees a fire had broken out. Little pillars of smoke cut through the treeline to pierce the sky like beacons of ongoing destruction.

Something about it struck a familiar pang in King’s heart – one he recognized easily from the Booth 30 Incident, the day where his heart had died. And then he’d felt it once again when Purple had been blown away by the apocalyptic destruction King himself had called down, on the day he’d found his new heart. It stirred his stomach and stilled his lungs, leaving every hair standing on end.

Gold and Purple were safe at home. So why was he suddenly so anxious…?

Having also noticed the fire, Chosen One had slowed down, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What is going on down there…?” They wondered aloud, soft voice swallowed by the roar of their own jet flames.

Swallowing a fresh wave of fear stuck in his throat, King swallowed his nerves and managed to force the words out. “Someone could be in trouble. We should go take a look.”

Chosen One paused, silence reigning between the two terrorists. “No,” They decided finally, moving forward again. “The Second Coming’s condition may become critical at any moment – we don’t have the time.”

Under normal circumstances, King might have agreed with Chosen One. But that strange feeling just wouldn’t leave. On the contrary, it got stronger the longer he gazed at the billowing smoke. Inhaling sharply, King pondered what he could say to change Chosen One’s mind. What came to mind wasn’t any sort of debate or logical argument, but Purple’s cheeky expression as they bartered their way out of chores. “C’mon, Old Man,” They’d begged, pouting pathetically, “I’m not feeling well. You wouldn’t make me vacuum while I’m not feeling well, would you?”

Before he’d learned how to tell when Purple was bluffing, it’d worked better than he cared to admit.

Yellow had mentioned that the Chosen One had some sort of emotional connection to the Second Coming, right? King could leverage that. Purple-style. “It wouldn’t take too long,” He insisted, “And besides, what would Second say if they knew you’d ignored innocents in trouble?” King followed that up with a low hum, like Purple would do when they were pretending to ponder something over, “I think they’d be horrified to learn someone else had to die so they could live. Don’t you?”

Growling, The Chosen One halted so suddenly that King was nearly thrown off of the ride. “Fine,” They snapped back, “I’ll make short work of it with my ice powers, and then we’ll continue on. But if something happens, it’ll be on you.”

King absently agreed. He couldn’t decide if it would be worse if he was wrong… or if he was right.

Flying to the flames took almost no time at all – thirty seconds, maybe. In that time little dots of colour appeared in King’s vision, and with every inch closer they got more and more detailed, until they’d become painfully familiar. King could quickly make out Blue and Green at the rear of the pack; Blue’s one hand grabbed at her shoulder, while Green’s normally perfect stance swayed with the wind. Red stood up front with that pig of his (outside of the basement too, tch), the only one apparently uninjured, glaring angrily at a trio of unfamiliar sticks ahead of him. And sandwiched between him, to King’s mounting horror, was Gold and Mango. Thankfully for his heart, his little sunshine didn’t look too worse for wear, keeping a firm stance, while Mango took his place in front of them, one arm outstretched to push Gold behind his father. His other arm was cradling someone, and King felt his heart stop as he recognized their familiar violet colour. Mango despised Purple; he’d made that perfectly clear, and despite King’s best efforts he knew Purple had picked up on it. The only reason he’d bother carrying Purple was if-

Purple was hurt.

Anger and fear struck him all at once. But he refused to allow himself to panic; to put these children in harm’s way again because of his own foolishness. Instead he clenched on to Chose One harder, watching the group of strangers as they grew more detailed with each passing second. One of them – wait, was that even a stick? What was that thing…? – jumped up to the top of a tree without any warning, and pointed their glowing arm at the group of children.

King’s heart stopped. “Chosen One-”

“I see it,” Chosen One cut him off, increasing the intensity of the blaze coming out of their palms and propelling the two faster. Just as the strange stick fired, the Chosen One dashed into the middle of their trajectory and propelled an orb of energy at the incoming projectile. The two collided, consuming each other in a brilliant explosion of light.

As the explosion settled down, the two landed between the unfamiliar sticks and the gang. Given Chosen One’s general power set, King had no qualms about turning his back on the attackers to check on the children. “Is everyone okay?” He called out over the roar of the fire trapping them. In response he received a chorus of half-hearted reassurances that did little to ease his fears.

Gold was unable to look him in the eye. His vest was missing, King quickly noticed, though it didn’t take much more than a cursory glance to find that it was instead on Purple, buttoned up to conceal them in place of their own absent shirt. Underneath it, King could see bandages sticking out, and he felt a sudden sharp stab to his heart. Oh, that poor kid…

“Hmph, look who finally decided to show their face,” Spat the shorter of the two strangers, standing balanced against another stick at their side, “The City’s most wanted terrorist themselves.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” The Chosen One greeted casually, as if they didn’t have their palm extended to blast them out of existence. “If you don’t mind, however, we have business to attend to. So I’m going to give you the chance to simply… walk away.”

The taller of the two sticks scoffed, her eyes narrowing in on the Chosen One, “You’re joking, right?” She asked, venom dripping from her words, “You think we’re just going to let you go? Keep dreaming.”

“Listen,” The Chosen One’s voice grew stone cold, “You know who I am. You know what I’m capable of. You know I’m giving you a chance to escape unscathed. And you’re arguing.” They spoke with dignity and self-assurance, even as the sticks ahead of them grew more and more inflamed with each word. “See sense. If we fought now, you’d stand no chance against me.”

A sour smirk grew on the shorter stick’s face, expressing a wicked sense of glee. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. Our merciful benefactors have changed direction entirely; they want nothing more than your destruction. And they’ve created the perfect weapon to bring you to your knees. Delta-A! To my side!” King winced as the voice broke, struggling to speak so loudly. The stick that had been in the tree hopped down, and King quickly recognized that it was no stick at all.

Rather, what stood before them was a robotic life form in the shape of a stick, with metallic joints and glowing red lights for eyes. Just from a cursory glance King could tell it wasn’t quite complete yet, with exposed wires sticking out of its joints for hardware installation, but it was definitely made of sturdier stuff than the masters standing behind it.

“This robot was specifically designed to bring down monstrous sticks like you and your partner,” The Chosen One’s eyes narrowed at that, though they didn’t bother to interrupt. “It’s made of an alloy that even the strongest sticks in the city couldn’t break. Now, Delta-A,” The robot stood at attention, “Destroy the Chosen One.”

Delta-A moved forward with single-minded purpose, and King instinctively shifted to put Gold and Purple (and Mango, he guessed) behind him, to shield them from that thing. But there was no need. Its raised blade had been caught by the Chosen One’s hand, who didn’t even flinch. They tightened their fist, and the blade broke in their hand, tiny metal shrapnel falling to the ground.

“Is this really your secret weapon?” Chosen One asked, a mix of incredulous and annoyed, “This toy? I don’t think you’ve done your research correctly.” Delta-A transformed its arm into a cannon, and Chosen One quickly caught the charging gun and forcibly aimed it upwards. Steam rose from it as the Chosen One’s palm began to exude heat once again. “If you had, you’d have known that my old partner would make more dangerous weapons in his sleep.” Then, without warning, the Chosen One’s head snapped forward, biting into the alloy. Supposedly even the strongest sticks weren’t able to break it, and yet, after it had been heated, their sharp teeth sunk through the metal like butter. Then, as if to add insult to injury, they spit it out at the stunned sticks behind the robot. “And then I’d eat them for breakfast.”

With great force the robot was tossed up into the air, and the Chosen One blasted off after it. They took in a deep breath, and at first King wondered if they were going to breath fire at its remains. Instead, ice began forming around the metal, growing thicker and thicker, until the mass was near twice the size of the robot it encased. The Chosen One rose in front of the ice block, pausing their propulsion to instead rub their hands together quickly. Sparks flew, and the Chosen One threw forth a powerful bolt of lightning that turned the block of ice to slush in an instant.

As a bonus, the falling slurry extinguished the flames behind the group, putting an end to the forest fire. It also doused the entire company in cold water, but given the heat, King wasn’t terribly concerned about that. He did note, with a small measure of relief, that Purple seemed mostly untouched by the liquid. Small comforts, he supposed.

Chosen One landed hard like a stone, pieces of the robot falling down around them. The two attackers stumbled back; injured and without the robot’s protection, all they could do was stumble back and wait for the Chosen One to decide whether or not it was worth it to snuff out their lives.

For a heart stopping moment, the Chosen One stood above them, eyes following their every quivering movement. Then, at last, they scoffed and turned away. “Last warning: Leave. Now.”

This time, the offending sticks complied, though reluctantly on the shorter stick’s part. Their taller companion had to lead them back to the tunnels (wait, were those the old Ethernet Tunnels?) behind them, glaring daggers all the while. Chosen One hardly seemed concerned, merely turning back to the large group gathered before them.

“Well, that was fun,” They said, voice as dry as sandpaper. “Now, we need to go-”

“Hold up a moment,” King interrupted, cocking his brow at them as they rolled their eyes like a rebellious teenager. The more time he spent in the company of the Chosen One, the less he felt he understood. But that was something to be unpacked later; for now, King turned back to his family. Mango was setting Purple down on the ground, while Gold had picked up a piece of debris and was staring at it with a furrowed brow.

This, however it went, probably wasn’t going to be fun for any of them.

“What, precisely, are you all doing out here?!” He asked, hands braced on his hips. Purple’s immediate response, to suddenly stiffen up, made him regret his tone.

Before he could correct his mistake, however, Mango opened his mouth. “Yes, Purple,” He spat out the name like it was rotten, and King clenched his teeth to keep himself from saying what he was thinking. Seeing Purple’s shoulders droop and eyes fall to the ground, like they were resigned to this unwarranted resentment, only made his hatred boil all the hotter. “Care to explain why you dragged my child out into the middle of the woods after we just learned he was going to die-?!”

A snarling growl stilled his voice. “Will you both stop?!” Gold snapped, marching over to embrace Purple in a protective hold. They didn’t look up until they heard Gold’s next words: “Running off like that was my idea! All Purple did was protect me!”

Mango recoiled as if the words had struck him. “You- what?!”

“I was worried about King Dad,” Gold admitted, staring off to the side to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze as they all stared at the little ray of sunshine, “So I snuck out to follow him. And when Purple caught me, I guilted them into coming along so they wouldn’t get in trouble. And- and then they had to protect me from a bomb, and-” He sighed heavily. “And it was all my fault.”

Glancing back at Mango, King wasn’t entirely surprised to find him utterly stunned by this confession. So was Purple, when King’s attention drifted back to them, though they were quicker to recover.

“That’s not true!” Insisted the violet stick, trying to stand up straight as they yelled. The effort caused them visible pain, and though a part of King wanted to embrace Purple until their agony disappeared, he knew them well enough to know that any attempt to interrupt would just get him snipped at. “Going after King was my idea! Gold just tagged along! If anyone should get in trouble, it’s me!”

“Stop trying to cover for me!” Gold yelled back.

If he was being honest, King was more inclined to believe Gold; Purple had a nasty tendency to lie, especially when they thought they were saying what someone wanted to hear, while Gold tended to be more honest. Given how Gold’s protective grip hadn’t even loosened, however, it could really go either way.

“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was,” King interrupted their bickering with a firm tone. The two stopped arguing, redirecting their attention towards him. “It was a monumentally stupid one. You’re both supposed to be smarter than this.” Purple’s eyes drifted downward again, thoroughly chastened, while Gold glared off to the side. Feeling tension pooling in his temples, King sighed and stopped to massage them for only a second before approaching the two kids. He knelt before them, bringing himself down to his height, before continuing, “Honestly, it doesn’t matter now. I’m just glad you’re both…” He’d been about to say okay, but eyeing the bandages under Purple’s vest, went with, “Alive,” instead. “How bad is it, Purple?”

They hesitated for a moment, “It’s not too…” Their eyes drifted back to Gold, who met their gaze with a stern look all his own. Purple sighed, “My back got burnt pretty badly.”

King raised a brow. Normally it took a good half hour of arguing them down before Purple was able to admit to not being okay. Whatever they and Gold went through today must have really put them through the wringer to admit it so easily. “Okay, and is it all taken care of already? Or do I need to look at it back home?”

“We didn’t have enough antibiotic, so we just cleaned it with water and bandaged it,” Purple explained.

Alright. King could work with that. “Okay, then once we’re home I’ll help you disinfect it,” He told them, gently patting their shoulder. He hummed as he looked them over, “We’ll have to change your bandages by then, anyways-”

“UGH.” The Chosen One’s sudden groan cut through King’s consolation, and before he could rebuff them he was interrupted again by loud wooden crackling. Off to the side, the Chosen One had apparently grown impatient and had plucked a tree from the ground as easily as one might pluck a flower. They then spun around, glaring, and that was all the warning anyone got before a swift swipe of the tree gathered them all up at once. Including Green, Blue, Red, and that pig, who had apparently just been watching the drama from the sidelines. “We literally don’t have time for this! Everyone, hold on! If you fall off, I’m NOT coming back for you!”

Chosen One tucked the trunk of the tree under their arm as one might a suitcase before lifting off, flames bursting forth from their palms yet again. Everyone else found purchase against each other and the tree’s surviving limbs to keep from plunging to their doom as they swiftly gained altitude. Mango, lucky bastard that he was, had managed to get sandwiched in between a number of convenient limbs, making hanging on very easy. Green had also managed to get a decently good spot, practically sitting atop the tree, although one arm was occupied by that darned pig, leaving him with only one hand and his thighs to keep hold of the tree. Red and Blue, meanwhile, were hanging on together; thanks to Blue’s injuries, she too could only use one arm, so Red took some of the burden off of her by bracing himself around her, essentially using himself as a harness to keep her safely on the tree.

Gold and Purple were both clinging on near him; Purple right next to him, Gold on their other side. The effort to keep clinging to the tree showed in Purple’s voice as they huffed and grunted. Out of the corner of his eye, King could see their trembling fingers falter, and their body began to slip. King’s arm surged forward in a beat of his racing heart, grabbing their arm to keep them safely rooted. He murmured gently, “I’ve got you-”

“I’ve got you-!”

King blinked, and peered over Purple’s head at Gold, who blinked back. His little sunshine had moved as if in tandem with his father, grabbing Purple’s other arm to help them hold on. Now that they were no longer slipping, Purple was able to relax some, sighing as they allowed King and Gold to hold them up.

Over their head, King offered Gold a kind smile.

He stared over Purple’s head and tried to offer back his own smile, as sweet as honey. But mere seconds passed before he could no longer keep up the facade, and it faded into a grimace as he looked away.

Ah.

Well, that was fine. It wasn’t like King didn’t deserve Gold hating him, anyways. All that mattered was that he was safe. That they were safe. Anything else was more than King deserved.

--------------------

It wasn’t long after being picked up by King and the Chosen One that rain began to fall – a weak drizzle that stung like slaps when they hit Mango’s skin. Up this high the wind carried an uncomfortable chill, and in order to keep his hold Mango couldn’t move, meaning he could only rely on the sounds of Gold’s breathing to tell him that his sunshine was okay.

They’d only been flying for maybe a total of ten minutes or so, but Mango could confidently say that flying was overrated.

“Hold on!” King’s booming voice suddenly called out, “See that house down there? The one with the burnt bush? Our destination’s right across the street from there!”

Airline Chosen One made an unceremonious drop-off, shaking everyone off of the tree and on to the empty lawn. Groans echoed amongst the group as they picked themselves up, but Mango immediately jumped to Gold’s side. By the time Mango had reached him, though, he was already back on his feet, using himself as a crutch to help Purple stand.

Something sour stirred in his gut at the sight. Purple- Mango didn’t even want to think about Purple right now.

Thud! went the tree as it was casually tossed aside. The Chosen One didn’t give it any more regard as they tossed the tree aside. “Finally!” They exclaimed, wiping their hands on their pants. “Come on! We need to hurry!”

“Are you going to explain what’s going on?!” Blue yelled after Chosen One as she scurried after them, one hand holding on to her injured shoulder. Her little friends chased after her.

“No time for that!” They called back, yanking at the locked door. Purple yelled something, and Gold finally left their side to keep Chosen One from damaging the house.

As Mango went to keep that maniac terrorist from ripping the door off its hinges, a sudden hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked behind him to find King, brow furrowed and mouth twisted in an angry snarl.

“You and I,” He warned under his breath, voice quiet but with clear anger, “Are going to have a long talk about this.”

Mango huffed and stepped out from the hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need this right now.

Gold had successfully gotten the door open with what was apparently Purple’s key, but it was Red who was first through the door, bursting in with an explosion of excitement. “We’re back-!” He’d begun to cheer, only to then shout in surprise as his feet flew out from under him. Peering around the other kids, Mango’s eyes widened at the cause of this disruption. Ice. The entire ground of the house was covered in a sheet of ice. Even the air of the house was colder, he noted as he stepped inside, feeling more like the dead of winter than the hot summer it was outdoors. The Chosen One had stepped out of the rain at some point, but paused just inside the door, staring straight ahead at the couch.

“What the-” King glanced around the frozen over living room in confusion for but a few brief moments before turning his attention to Blue and Green, “What the hell did you do to my house?!”

Confusion and mild indignation was all he got in return. “We didn’t do this!” Blue exclaimed.

Before she could explain herself any further, Red’s sudden shout of, “Holy cursors!” Caught the attention of everyone in the room, drawing all attention back to him. His mouth gaped open in shock even as he picked himself up, slipping on the icy floor multiple times, and propelled himself towards the couch. It wasn’t long before Blue and Green were following his example, screaming out in horror as they ran.

At some point in their absence Yellow had moved from the armchair to the couch, and she was now cradling Second in her arms like a child. Except Second had… deteriorated. Rapidly. Their body looked like it had been put through the washing machine, all wrinkled and distorted, and their breathing was audibly ragged. Mango had to avert his eyes to stave off the sudden turning of his stomach. Yellow’s entire body shivered from the cold, but despite that she had made no moves to wrap herself in the blanket that had once been covering her friend. She endured the cold stoically, head bent to keep her full attention on the ailing stick in her hold. It wasn’t until he himself was clutching on to the arm of the sofa that Mango realized he’d been stumbling towards it as well.

“Where…” She growled, not looking up from her charge, “Have you BEEN?!” Her shivering arms tightened around her companion, “Do you have ANY idea what we’ve been through?!”

Everyone had huddled around the couch now – Blue was knelling next to Second and Yellow, checking them over, while Green stood off to the side with his hands covering his mouth and Red hovered, clearly uncertain on what to do. Gold had taken Purple’s hand in his own and was clutching it tightly, the two on the opposite side of the couch from where Mango himself stood.

How could they have gotten this bad? It’d only been a few hours- how…?

“Ow-!” Blue cried out as she retreated, shaking her hand as though it were burnt. The other still clutched her shoulder. “They’re burning up! I don’t understand- What happened?!”

“They started melting!” Yelled back Yellow. She finally looked up at the group, and if the tracks of tears running down her face hadn’t been indication enough that she’d been crying, her red, watery eyes would have given her away.

All present recoiled. “Melting?!” Red asked, horror evident in his voice, “What do you mean melting?!”

With a growl in her voice, Yellow snapped back, “I mean they started turning from a SOLID state of matter in to a LIQUID state of matter! There are not that many definitions of the word melting, Red!” Her harsh tone caused all around her to recoil.

King, who had hung back near the door, suddenly piped up, “Is this what you meant by ‘severe impact on their physical form’?”

Everyone turned to face the Chosen One, whose eyes remained locked on to the Second Coming – their Second Coming, Mango mused, and for the first time he wondered what the Chosen One themselves made of that. They were so absorbed in their stupor that it took a long moment to realize that they’d been asked a question. “Huh?” They asked dumbly, finally breaking their gaze away from Second, and then their memory caught up to them. “Oh, no. I just thought their organs would fail. I didn’t think it would be nearly this bad.”

“B-but you can fix it, right?” Blue practically begged, beginning to shake herself, “They’ll be okay, right?!”

“The Second Coming can fix themselves,” Chosen One responded, tone even despite their obvious disturbance at the child’s state. “They just need a little… boost.” Their hand rose up, and a white glow began to pour out over he room. Mango was pushed back by Blue as she and the others scrambled out of the Chosen One’s way. His back was pressed to the plaster, made cold by the sudden storm that had overtaken the living room, and from there Mango watched as the Chosen One approached the Second Coming with their palm outstretched, reached out, and softly touched their hand.

And then the world exploded into an eruption of emerald light.

It spread like a shock-wave, originating from the ill stick on the couch and quickly rushing out in all directions, leaving a sparkling trail in its wake as it escaped the confines of the house. Mango involuntarily flinched as it hit him, but quickly relaxed as he felt the various aches and sores all over his body begin to fade. His eyes darted up, to his own reflection in a nearby window. In real time, he could see the boot-shaped bruise on his face fade into nothingness, and when he reached to touch it, he felt no pain. Only the old calluses on his hand.

Other around the room were clearly experiencing the same phenomenon, as Purple stretched themselves out without a hint of their previous pain on their face; only surprise. He could hear Green gasp aloud in shock. “My head!” He exclaimed, holding it in his hands.

“My shoulder!” Blue too gasped in surprise, removing her hand to reveal no trace of her previous injury except for a red stain on her palm.

“My knees and toes!” Red yelled, jumping excitedly.

That got him odd looks from everyone in the room. “Your legs were hurt?” Blue asked, her eyes darting between his legs and his face. Every muscle in her body was rigid with nerves.

“Oh,” Red looked down, clearly regretting speaking at all, “No, I just wanted to be included. My bad.”

Blue sighed heavily, all of the tension leaving her body in a single exhale. Despite the healing they’d all undergone, she looked utterly exhausted.

“Wait,” Yellow spoke up, drawing all attention to the couch yet again. She was still holding Second tight in her shaking arms. Their body, thankfully, had returned to its pre-melting state, with no lingering trace of their close call. Still, something had Yellow panicked, verging on hyperventilating. “S-something’s wrong- they’re not waking up-! Why aren’t they waking up?!”

Seriously? Mango’s teeth ground in to each other. After all of that, they still weren’t better?

Though Yellow’s worry had everyone on the room on edge and panicked again, the Chosen One remained calm, approaching her and placing a soft hand on her shoulder. Mango flinched, almost expecting them to set her ablaze, but instead they spoke carefully and calmly, “Relax,” They consoled, in spite of a hint of annoyance in their voice, “I only gave the Second Coming enough energy to heal their wounds – and everyone else’s, apparently.” The Chosen One pursed their lips, clearly puzzled, but continued, “Now they’re at zero again. They’ll be inflicted with extreme fatigue – which will not be fun to recover from – but unless they get hurt again, they’re at no immediate risk.”

Yellow’s breath hitched, “So- so they’ll be okay, then?” She asked, her breath shaky.

Irritation flashed on the Chosen One’s face, clearly not pleased about having to repeat themselves, but they did it anyways, “Just let them rest, and they should be fine. A little pained and uncomfortable for a few days, but fine.”

All of the tension melted from Yellow’s muscles as she slumped back, dragging her unconscious friend with her. She pulled them close, cuddling them like a child clinging to a stuffed animal, and the clear fear in her body language made something sink to the bottom of Mango’s stomach.

This- This hadn’t been his fault. He’d done the right thing, going to protect his child. It wasn’t like he could’ve known a child running a slight fever would devolve to the point of physically melting.

A loud zapping noise rang out, swiftly followed by the temperature rising to… not normal levels, for this time of year, but definitely warmer than the icebox it had been previously. Glancing around, Mango found King holding something – a staff of some sort, with a Minecraft block placed upon it.

Mango’s eyes narrowed. It was… cleverly designed, he could tell even from a distance. Hardware specifically created to draw out the true power of whatever was placed within it. This thing was powerful – even without getting a good look at the inside, Mango could tell. And it had created and dispelled an ice storm in his living room as easily as simply waving it around. So that was how he’d planned to destroy a world.

Mechanical engineering had been his specialty for ages. It only made sense that he’d apply his knowledge to his quest for vengeance. Still. Mango couldn’t help but feel sick to his stomach. Looking at King, crown atop his head and staff in his grasp, was like looking at a twisted reflection. This was the monster he was destined to become.

“Yellow-” King began, but whatever he was about to say was cut off.

“I know, no Minecraft stuff on the main floor,” Her voice was hollow, devoid of all emotion, “I just used it to bring Sec’s temperature down. You can take it back to the basement now, I don’t care.”

King sighed, but acquiesced, silently taking the staff to the trap door hidden in the corner of the room. As he descended, Red called after him to ask for King to take their pig and check on the laundry they’d started beforehand. King grunted but agreed, calling the pig over with a whistle and tucking it under his arm so that he could descend. Leaving Mango to deal with the children and the terrorist.

By himself. Just great.

Tension as thick as fog flooded the room, leaving a silence only filled by the patter of rain against the window. Green and Blue and Red exchanged nervous glances between them, while Yellow’s eyes were only on the frail form in her arms. Gold, meanwhile, had taken the armchair, collapsing in to it with his head buried in his hands. Mango’s heart cracked at the sight, and he made swift strides to reach and take over the role of comforting him from Purple who was gingerly rubbing his back with something of a panicked expression. They seemed to grow even more nervous when Mango approached, but didn’t stop him from placing a hand on Gold’s shoulder to rub away some of the negativity eating at him. The Chosen One wasn’t immediately visible, but a short glance revealed them staring out the window in to the front lawn.

Silence reigned for what felt like an eternity, before creaking floorboards drew attention to Green, walking up to Yellow with clear apprehension. “Yel…?” He questioned softly, and when she didn’t respond he continued, “Hey, you alright?”

“…” She didn’t look up at him, but Yellow’s entire body immediately stiffened at the sound of his voice. “Am I… alright?” She asked, quiet but incredulous. Her volume rose louder, “Alright? Are you seriously asking me that?!” Her head snapped up, revealing tear-filled, bloodshot eyes glaring daggers at the three sticks in front of her, “One of my best friends just nearly died in my arms! Of course I’m not alright!”

“Yellie, I’m so sorry!” Blue pleaded, her own eyes becoming teary, “We shouldn’t have left you alone-”

Mango’s hand balled into a fist. He’d needed them. Their skills could have been crucial to saving Gold. That was the most important thing. He couldn’t risk leaving behind someone who could’ve had the skills he needed to protect his baby. He did the right thing. He did the right thing.

The couch-bound stick snarled, “You’re right! You shouldn’t have!” Her trembling arms gently pushed the stick lying atop her aside, and she stood up on her freshly healed ankle, “I told you something would happen! I warned you, and not ONE of you listened to me!” A fresh wave of tears began to fall from her face as she rambled on, approaching the group with waving hands, “Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?! And I had to do it all by myself! Not ONE of you thought ‘hey, maybe we shouldn’t leave the stick with the twisted ankle to deal with the sick one all by herself?’ No! You all ran off and abandoned us AGAIN!”

“Hey!” Green snapped back, “We never ABANDONED you guys! Last time we did everything we could to save you, and you know it!”

“So instead of making sure we’re alright after everything that happened, you just run off and leave us on our own!” Yellow all but screamed into Green’s face, “You said this stupid idea would fix everything, but instead you almost got Sec killed!”

“Come on, Yellie…” Blue pleaded, reaching out to her friend. “That isn’t fair-”

Her hand was slapped away, “Oh, fair?! You want to talk about fair?!” Yellow snarled at her recoiling friend, “Nothing about what I went through was fair! You knew how hard it would be to take care of Sec all by myself! You knew and you still just ran off and left us by ourselves! What if something else had gone wrong?! What if Sec had started throwing up or- or bleeding or something and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it?! And you!” She pointed an accusatory finger at Red, “You haven’t done ANYTHING to help ANYONE! The only useful thing you’ve done all day was get Reuben, and you only did that because you wanted to break King’s rules and take him outside! You-! You…!” Her eyes bulging in madness, Yellow shouted to the heavens, “You’re all TERRIBLE friends!”

Silence.

Tense and uneasy, the four sticks simply stared at each other in shock and fear and horror and anger. It was Blue who broke the silence; not with words, but with sudden, violent sobs. She cried into her hands, startling Red and Green to her side, though they didn’t stay that way for long. While Red moved to hold Blue, Green turned back to Yellow with gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Oh, that is it!” He yelled. As if prepared for a fight the two of them stepped forward, matching glare for glare

“Green-” Red tried to protest in the midst of propping Blue up. She’d all but fallen into him, her legs shaking as she struggled to stay standing. His pleas went unanswered as Yellow and Green stepped forth, both growling at each other like feral cats.

While he’d been stunned by the sudden outbreak of drama and yelling, the threat of an actual fight breaking out got Mango moving. He stepped between the two kids and shouted over them, “Hey! HEY!” They wouldn’t stop trying to get at each other, even through him, so he resorted to questionable tactics, “Your friend JUST used the last of their energy to heal you! Do you really want to waste all that effort by hurting each other AGAIN?!”

Dirty trick or not, his piercing question worked wonders, getting the two brats to back down. Green huffed and marched off, storming through the front door and out into the rain. The door slammed shut behind him, causing all present to jump.

Purple scurried past Mango. “Uhh, I’m gonna… go after him. Make sure he doesn’t get lost or anything. Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon,” They informed the others. Blue, still sobbing into her hands, seemed not to have heard them, but Red simply nodded in agreement. Purple spared a glance to Mango, silently asking permission, but all Mango could do was shrug. He wasn’t the kid’s dad, he wasn’t about to stop them.

(And besides, if he was being honest, some distance from them would do him wonders. Any time he looked directly at the little violet stick, the gears in his mind began to spin and his gut began to twist in on itself, and it’d be nice to be free from that. At least until things calmed down.)

Grabbing an umbrella from a storage closet, Purple gave one last cursory look back before running after Green, shouting for the other stick to wait up.

That had been a mess. When Mango had taken off, he hadn’t thought about what might happen in his absence… but, surely nobody expected him to be able to predict a disaster like this, right? What would he have been able to do to make it better?

(He didn’t even need all of them.)

“Are you okay?” Gold’s soft voice asked. When Mango spun around, he found his sunshine had joined in on comforting Blue, who wept on as if she hadn’t heard anything. His hand rubbed her shoulder, eyes crinkling with worry that Mango wanted nothing more than to squeeze out of his son’s face.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Red promised. He had tucked her head into his shoulder, letting himself be used as a pillow. Despite the sheen of exhaustion that had fallen over his face, he still wore a huge smile, “A lot’s happened today, I guess it’s finally getting to her. She just needs to let it all out and get some rest,” He cocked his head at Gold. “Uh, is there anywhere quiet we can take a bit of a break?”

Gold, ever the sweetheart, nodded as he pointed back towards the hallway. “You can go ahead and use my room for now.”

With a polite thank you, Red led the weeping mess of a stick away, leaving Gold behind to stare after them. After they disappeared behind the corner, Gold’s entire body slumped, and he trudged over to the now empty armchair before collapsing into it with his head buried in his hands. Mango’s heart fell. He’d never seen his child so… exhausted. Chased through hazardous old tunnels, nearly killed by a monstrous robot… he’d been through so much in such a short time.

He walked up to the boy and placed his hand on his shoulder. Nice and light, easy enough to shake off if Gold decided he didn’t want his father’s comfort. “Hey, hun,” He cooed softly. To his relief, Gold didn’t push him away. Instead he simply withdrew from his hands and stared up, all hints of his previous resentment hidden behind the fatigue. Offering an encouraging smile, Mango asked, “How are you holding up?”

The child’s brow furrowed. For a moment Mango thought he might have been rebuffed, but instead his boy glanced briefly in the direction of Yellow, who’d resumed her vigilant guard over the Second Coming. In silence, Gold gestured with his whole head in their direction. Mango nodded in turn. Message received. Instead, the two took to the ruined kitchen.

Once in relative privacy, Gold swept forth and embraced his father in a tight hug. Mango, caught off guard, stumbled a bit from the force, but instinct quickly took over and he wrapped his arms around Gold in turn. Warmth pooled in his heart. How could he have ever let this child go? All of the anger and fear and stress of the last few hours melted away as he relished in the soothing motions of his baby breathing against his chest.

“Dad?” Gold’s quiet voice pierced the serenity between them, no prefix of ‘King’ or ‘Mango’ or anything else. Just father and child. Gold’s eyes trailed up to meet his, and the warmth turned to empathetic heartbreak when he saw the tearful sheen they carried. He asked, “Is… is all this my fault?”

“Oh, honey, no…” Mango cooed softly, knelling next to his poor baby, cradling his face in one hand. Gold had grown so much, but he was still so, so small… “No, of course not. This was all…”

(My fault, I dragged them away, I scorned their concern, I wanted them to hurt and now they are…!)

“…just, a series of bad circumstances,” Mango settled on. “I won’t deny you made some mistakes today… we all did, I think,” Yeah, that was it. Mango had made a mistake. So had everyone else. It wasn’t just one person’s fault. It was a little bit of everybody’s. “But ultimately, things were heading to a breaking point even before you and Purple took off.” The blow-up would have happened eventually. The melting was inevitable. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t either of their faults. “Regardless of whether or not we’d been here, I don’t think it would’ve made much of a difference.”

Instead of a response, Gold buried his head in Mango’s shirt and sniffled softly.

They stayed like that for a while, Mango giving his child every ounce of comfort he could manage, holding him close and stroking his thick curls. Maybe a minute later, maybe two, Gold pulled away; not enough to escape his father’s hold, just enough to look up at him again. “I- I just feel so bad,” Gold confessed. He’d always been such a soft-hearted kid, naturally empathetic to the pain of others. That was a part of what made him such a ray of sunshine. “First I got Purple hurt, and then everyone was dragged away from Second because of me, too. And Yellow… I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.”

Horror and fear and anger, no doubt. Mango knew those feelings all too well. But the mention of Purple stirred something sour in Mango, something unwanted. He didn’t want to think about them now – or ever, really. He’d be happy if this churning feeling in his gut would just go away. In spite of that, he suddenly realized that they were alone – no Purple around, nor any of their oddly protective friends, nor that joke of a King. If he was going to get answers from Goldie, it would have to be now.

So, despite the voice inside him urging Mango to retreat and continue to simply enjoy Gold’s presence, he looked his child in the eye and forced a question out, “Goldie, I need the truth. What actually happened while you two were gone? Did you really force Purple to follow you into the woods?”

He needed to know. He needed the truth, even if the idea of it struck fear in his heart – for more reasons than he cared to admit.

For a moment, Gold hesitated. Then, timidly, he asked, “You won’t get mad?” When Mango nodded, he elaborated, “I mean at me or Purple.”

So the little brat had done something. Though he was lying through his teeth, Mango promised, “Of course I won’t. I just need you to be honest, honey.”

Another second of hesitation. And then… “Purple was going to head out by themselves,” Gold confessed. Before Mango could process that, he continued, “And I forced them to bring me along. I know, for whatever reason, you don’t like Purple, but they’re really nice! And smart! And… and we were only in those stupid tunnels because of me!” Gold broke away from Mango’s grip, leaving his hands feeling oddly cold despite the summer heat returning to the once icy house. Instead Gold began to pace anxiously, “I was being reckless, and fell into an open tunnel shaft! Purple had to jump in after me!”

Oh. That… hadn’t been what Mango had expected. Those tunnels were more than a kilometer down… if Gold had fallen with no sort of protection, then…

He’d almost lost his child. Terror struck as he realized Gold had almost died out there at least twice, and was only alive because of… because of Purple.

The nauseous feeling returned.

“And- and then, we ran into those smuggler guys, and we decided to investigate them because duh! But I was stupid about it and set off a bomb, and- and Purple shielded me and they burnt their back really bad, Dad, it was really bad!” Again Gold’s eyes began to well with tears. Mango reacted swiftly, pulling his child back into his hold, “They’ve been through so much, and you were so mean to them, I just wanted them to know that they had someone on their side, and- and instead I almost- almost got them killed!”

Fresh tears poured from Gold’s eyes. All Mango could do was hold his child tighter. “Honey, honey… it’s okay. Take slow, deep breaths… I’m here, I’m right here…” Shakily, Gold did his best to follow his father’s instructions, breathing in and out, in and out. Slow and gentle, until the tears stopped. Only then did Mango continue, “I’m so sorry, baby. You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been so stuck in my own head that I didn’t notice,” Learning his baby was about to die was as good an excuse as any, he supposed, but Mango let the swell of guilt run through him this time. “From now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make this easier on you.”

“Really?” Gold asked, voice husky from his previous bout of crying, “Then… can you do something for me?”

“Of course, anything. Whatever you need.” Mango reassured.

Gold took his hand, squeezing it gently, “Stop being mean to Purple.” Mango’s gut sank. “I don’t know why you don’t like them, but they’ve been nothing but nice to me. Even though us being here is causing a lot of problems.” Gold’s eyes darted to the living room, to the stick on the couch. Then his gaze returned to Mango. “I’ll forgive you for blowing up at Blue, and being mean yesterday, and everything… if you can at least be nice to Purple from now on. And maybe get to know them? They’re really cool! They have great taste in music, and they’re really clever!”

As Gold talked more and more about Purple, Mango could feel his teeth grind together. This was more than Gold’s naturally good-hearted nature at play. He had become genuinely endeared to Purple.

Mango swallowed his nerves. It wasn’t that he hated the kid or anything- now that the kidnapping thing had been cleared up, he didn’t really have anything against the kid. It was just- they were only- it was all King’s-

He sighed, a sudden weight pressing down on his shoulders. “I…” He interrupted, halting Gold’s speech about the supposed amazingness of Purple. When he was finally quiet, Mango continued, “Alright, I swear, I’ll leave Purple alone-”

“Not leave them alone,” Gold corrected firmly. “Be NICE to them. There’s a difference.”

“I promise, from now on, I’ll be nice to Purple.” He agreed.

Honestly, he mostly planned to avoid Purple as much as possible from now on. The kid made him… uncomfortable. They were his future self’s miserable attempt to mask the pain of losing his own child by replacing him with some random orphan. It wasn’t Purple’s fault, per se, but looking at them brought him back to the moment he found out, with his fist tingling from punching and their wide, terrified eyes staring up at him. It made him feel sick.

But it was GOLD asking. He couldn’t just say no. If his child really wanted this, then he didn’t have a choice.

As if in reward, Gold smiled wider and brighter than Mango had seen him since they’d come to this miserable future, holding out his arms and embracing Mango tightly yet again. This time there was no distress in his hug, no grief or fear. Only relief and love, and Mango tightened his hold to give it back tenfold.

His kid was the best.

“Okay!” All too soon Gold pulled away, pumping his fists in excitement as the terror of the day waned in favour of newfound resolve. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m gonna go check on the others!” In spite of everything, Mango could help but smile at his enthusiastic child. “Make sure they’re all okay!”

“Just…” Mango sighed, “Don’t leave the house, okay, honey?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Gold proclaimed, a hint of his previous exhaustion showing through. “I think I’m all adventured out for today.”

So was Mango, though he didn’t dare risk the fragile new peace by saying so aloud. It might come off as more… blame-shifty than Gold would care for. “Alright then. Good luck, sunshine.” And, for good measure, he rustled Gold’s hair one final time. His child giggled and batted his hand away, and for a brief moment, even as Gold retreated to the living room, it felt like things were finally, finally at least resembling normal.

“Well, that was exciting,” Spoke a smooth, soft voice from behind Mango. He spun around to find the Chosen One, having apparently left their vigil at the window, leaning against a piece of ruined wood that had once been a counter. “Almost makes missing my afternoon telenovelas worth it. Almost.”

Mango’s nose scrunched up so hard that he could actually feel an ache in the bridge. It was true that this stick had carried the lot of them here on a tree tucked underneath their arm like a newspaper. And yet… this was the Burner of Bandwidth? The most terrifying stick on the web? They looked like baby’s first Original Character, Do Not Steal. He had to know for sure.

“Are you actually the Chosen One?” He asked.

In response, the so-called Chosen One looked upward and stroked their chin in thought. “Hm, that’s a good question. But really, who are any of us? Is that something decided by birth, encoded into us with our very names? Or are we capable of defying destiny and taking control for ourselves? Are the circumstances of one’s birth truly what decides one’s path in life?”

Somehow Mango got the distinct feeling that he was being mocked.

“You’re just…” He frowned, stumbling to put his doubts into words, and eventually settled on, “Not what I expected from a terrorist that’s destroyed seven hundred websites.”

“Seven hundred?” They echoed. “Huh."

Mango gave him the side-eye. “What?”

“Ah,” As if catching themselves, the Chosen One suddenly stood up straight and shook their head. “Nothing important. I’m here to let you know that I’ll be staying in the vicinity until the Second Coming has completely recovered. I doubt they’ll need another energy boost, but in the case of an emergency it would be easier for me to be nearby rather than send someone else into the woods.”

Well… that was unexpected. “You want to stay… with us?” Mango repeated, just to be sure he was hearing that right.

“I could ask to stay with the people across the street,” Chosen One rebuffed. “But I have a feeling they wouldn’t be so kind about housing a wanted criminal.” They sighed, “Look, I get your reluctance. I don’t exactly have a great reputation. And really, I only have myself to blame for that.” Their hand drifted over their heart, squeezing their shirt as though to crush away whatever anxieties hid underneath. “But I have no other option. If the Second Coming loses control again, I might be the only hope of stopping whatever outbreak they cause.”

“Are they really that dangerous?” Mango asked, peering into the living room. Lying limp on the couch, utter exhaustion plain in every muscle, it was hard to imagine them as anything close to the threat the Chosen One was.

Of course, they’d also brought Mango and Gold forward into the future. Though quantum physics were hardly his forte, even Mango knew that such a feat should have been impossible. And yet, here he was.

“Come with me for a moment,” The Chosen One beckoned with their hand, and despite his better judgment Mango followed along. His mind was a tangled mess of various worries and thoughts and theories… for the most part he was running on auto-pilot. The two walked through the living room, to the very window Chosen One had been staring out just moments ago. A single finger pointed in lieu of any explanation. Mango followed it with his eyes through the haze of the gentle drizzle.

Across the street was that darned bush, the same one supposedly destroyed by the lasagna. He’d seen it in passing on his way out, but Mango hadn’t really gotten a good look at it until they’d flown above it not too long ago. Even then, he’d had more pressing concerns on his mind. But now the shriveled up hydrangeas were gone, replaced instead by a beautiful, healthy plant overflowing with multi-coloured flowers.

“I only gave the Second Coming a little bit of energy,” Chosen One’s voice cut through his observations like a piercing knife, “About the same amount I use to light a flame… just enough to take care of themselves. And instead they healed not only everyone in the room, but far beyond it as well.” When he looked back at them, Mango found the Chosen One’s eyes were glazed over as they became lost in thought. “And that was just a smidgeon of energy. You can imagine what potential they’d have at full power.”

Distressingly enough, Mango could. Easily. Their powers hadn’t seemed to be as conventionally destructive as the Chosen One’s, but proved to be dangerous in entirely different ways, what with summoning bizarre weather and healing and breaking space time, you know, as one does. Dangerous as the Chosen One was, it was best to have at least one person around that could counteract Second Coming’s powers if they lost control.

After all, hadn’t it been them losing control that had caused this whole mess?

“I get your point,” Mango noted, looking back over his shoulder at the unconscious stick with new trepidation. Yellow was still sitting there, staring down as though her friend would begin to die again the second she looked away. Thankfully Gold was keeping a little more distance, though that was mostly for Yellow’s sake. “You should… probably let King know.”

Chosen One quirked their brow in confusion. “I… just did?”

“I’m not King.” He proclaimed with barely concealed annoyance.

“But… you are, though,” They pointed out, as plainly as pointed out the sky was blue.

“Maybe he was once me,” Mango relented, “But he’s completely different from the person I am now. He’s a monster, who lashes out at anyone and uses a child to make himself feel better. All he cares about is himself.”

“...Right.” Chosen One’s voice now sounded more patronizing now, like they were talking to a small child. “Whatever you say. Mind showing me the way to him, then? I am… unfamiliar with this dwelling.”

Again, Mango got the distinct feeling he was being mocked in some way. Still he led the way to the mysterious trap door in the corner, the last layer of protection between his life as he knew it and that accursed game that those idiots brought into his house! The ladder was something of a nuisance – Mango would’ve preferred a proper staircase – but he supposed when it came to illegal basements, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The basement started with something of a messy hallway, littered with stones and pebbles. Further down the unfamiliar path the space opened up into a large corridor. The room hummed with the sounds of machines that couldn’t be seen, though if Mango had to guess he’d put them behind the farthest wall: behind the black stone arch at the very end of the room. Scattered around the room were various amenities; a little makeshift kitchen of Minecraft items, a gigantic pillow where the pig snoozed soundly, and on the opposite end, a pair of basins surrounded by unfamiliar machines. That was where King was, neatly folding the blankets and pillowcases that the younger sticks had been using just that moment, what felt like an eternity to go.

When King finally took notice of them, he raised his brow and asked, “Um, why are you down here? Did something else happen?” Grim dread crossed his face, “There haven’t been any more explosions, have there?”

“In a manner of speaking…” The Chosen One mused aloud.

Before they could get King worked up all over again, Mango spoke up, “There was a massive argument between our…” He fumbled for a word and eventually settled on, “guests. They’ve split up to cool down for now. Wait,” Mango cocked his head, “You couldn’t hear it? They were pretty loud.”

“This chamber is virtually soundproof,” King replied with a shake of his head. While he wasn’t as panicked as he could have been, there was notable distress present in his posture. “Is anybody hurt?”

“No. Just angry at each other.” Mango affirmed. King’s shoulder slumped with visible relief as he nodded. “Right now they’re all just trying to calm down. We’ve actually come down here to inform you that the Chosen One thought it would be wise to… stay for a little longer. Just until Second’s recovered.”

King’s nose scrunched up in an obnoxiously familiar way, but unlike Mango he didn’t hesitate. Only huffed in resignation. “I mean, I guess that’s fine? But we don’t have any more spare bedding for you.”

“Your thoughtfulness is appreciated, but unnecessary.” Chosen One stated with a surprisingly polite tone. Again, was this really the monster they’d all been afraid of for so long? “I can return to my home and get a spare pillow and blanket, provided you can keep the Second Coming from melting again while I’m gone.” They crossed their arms, and continued only when they received affirmation from King. “Very well. You also don’t need to concern yourself with reserving a spot for me inside the house. I’m perfectly fine sleeping on the roof.”

Mango blinked, dumbfounded. “On the what-”

“Isn’t it still raining?” King asked, brushing off Mango’s confusion, “I can’t imagine that the roof would be dry by tonight.”

The Chosen One simply responded. “It will be.”

“….Oooookay, then…” Obviously deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, King just nodded along to the Chosen One’s… plan. “Well, if you want to come inside, you can crash in the basement, I guess. Just.. no attacking anyone. Or setting fires indoors. I like this house, I’d rather keep it.”

“Hmm…” They stroked their chin, almost as if making a joke of setting a house full of young sticks, including his child, on fire. “I suppose I can refrain for now. Don’t want to lose the element of surprise, after all.”

Mango cringed away, unsettled. King, however, only seemed annoyed at the thinly veiled threat. “Uh huh,” He acknowledged. “Well, be safe flying in this rain, then.”

“Oh,” The Chosen One blinked, as if not having expected to be sent off so… politely. “Thank you.” They shifted their gaze to the side, suddenly looking bashful, of all things. Mango felt stunned. The Chosen One. Bashful! It seemed the emotional roller coaster of the day wasn’t quite over. “I should be back shortly. Without half a dozen sticks to carry, it should be a quick trip.”

They departed, walking backwards with their eyes on the two versions of Mango. Never did their eyes shift away from them, not even when they were climbing up the ladder… that they could easily fly up.

“Is this really going to be okay?” Mango asked aloud. “I mean, they’re not what I expected, but they’re still… you know… The Chosen One.”

King returned to his laundry. “I’m not terribly concerned. If need be we have…” His eyes flickered to a nearby table, where the staff laid, and he subtly grimaced, “Options. Though hopefully it won’t come to that.” An awkward silence rang between them for all of thirty seconds before King patted the basket before him. “Why don’t you help me finish the laundry? It’d be a good time to chat.”

Mango bit back a groan. Well, time to get that lecture over with.

--------------------

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

The sounds of rain echoing against the window were the only thing that kept the silence at bay as Gold returned to the living room, bucket of water in hand and a cloth hanging off his shoulder. When he’d asked Yellow if there was anything he could do to help the other stick, he’d expected to be blown off, or blown up at like the others. Instead Yellow had numbly asked for Gold to retrieve some water and a cloth. Though confused, Gold had complied, immediately heading towards the bathroom to retrieve the requested items.

He could still hear Blue sobbing on the other side of his own bedroom door, and it had taken everything in Gold not to join Red in providing her comfort. One thing at a time. For now, Gold had to help Yellow. Somebody had to.

“I’ve got the stuff you wanted,” He reported as he set the bucket on the dining table, then dropped the cloth upon it. His words went unacknowledged. “Yellow?” Gold called.

Hearing her name made Yellow flinch, but she finally looked over. “Oh, yeah,” She muttered, “Thank you.” Without a further word she took the cloth in her hand and dipped it into the bucket. Lukewarm water dripped from the over-encumbered cloth. Yellow wrung the excess liquid from it, before turning back to Second.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he peered over his shoulder.

“Making sure Second is clean,” She replied, not looking back at Gold. The cloth clutched tightly in her hand, she brought it to their face and began to gently dab at it. “They’re all healed now, but I doubt their powers did anything about the sweat and grime. I don’t want them to feel all gross when they wake up.”

“Oh.” An awkward silence reigned between them as Yellow continued to clean Second’s exposed skin. If Gold was being honest, she didn’t look much better than them; her skin was pale and clammy from who knows how long spent huddled up in the Minecraft snow, and dark shadows had appeared under her dull eyes. Each stroke of the cloth along Second’s skin was met with shaky hesitance, her eyes darting to the cloth as if expecting to pull away bits of her friend along with the grime.

Gold watched all of this with a sinking feeling in his gut. Dad – Mango Dad – had said that this wasn’t his fault. That everyone had messed up some today, that things just fell together in a bad way. But something in Gold couldn’t quite believe that. Not when looking at Yellow’s face, haggard and lifeless with empty, glassy eyes. Before, when Yellow had blown up at her friends, she’d looked so much like Mango Dad when he’d attacked King Dad just yesterday (yesterday? It felt like it’d been so much longer than that…) So angry, but then she’d burned out so quickly, leaving a soulless shell to take care of poor Second.

“I’m sorry.” Blurted out Gold before he could register anything beyond that need to apologize for everything.

Not even turning to Gold, Yellow sighed with the weight of the world on her breath. “You really want to do this right now?” She asked.

“Um,” Gold’s eyes flickered around, his fumbling mind scrambling to put his thoughts to words. “No time like the present?”

Every muscle in Yellow’s body slumped, what little energy she had left draining out of her. At last she turned to Gold, her dull eyes staring through Gold rather than at him. “Look,” She grumbled, voice barely louder than the distant sound of raindrops against the rooftop, “I’m… annoyed at you and Purple. You guys were stupid, and you could’ve gotten yourselves killed when King was perfectly capable of handling himself.”

Gold opened his mouth to issue another apology, only for Yellow to beat him to the punch.

“But I’m not mad at you,” She revealed, bitterness seeping back into her tone, “You and Purple just did what anyone would’ve done: You tried to protect the people who matter most to you. And that’s what they should’ve done.” Her hands tightened around the cloth she still held. “But when we actually needed them, they all just… took off. Without a second thought. And, like, I get sending one of them. Maybe even two. But why did all of them have to go? Why did they leave us the first chance they got?”

In those last two questions, all of the anger had faded away, leaving behind nothing but hurt and fear. Gold’s chest tightened as he watched her fallen expression. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to answer that question, and so he did the only thing he could think of; he gave his honest opinion, “Well, I’m not them, so I can’t really tell you. But you’re right, it wasn’t fair. And I’m so sorry that you went through all of that on your own.” Yellow sniffled a little. “I can’t imagine what I’d do in your shoes.”

“It’s just…” Tears began to well in her eyes as her hands began to shake, “I… I was so scared… I was all alone, and Second was deteriorating so fast, and I didn’t know what to do…” Her eyes squeezed shut, a last ditch attempt to stop herself from crying, but when Gold placed his hand over hers the dam finally broke. She started sobbing, terrified and desperate. Gold could do nothing but comfort her, rubbing soothing circles on her back and stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

For some time they just stayed like that, Gold comforting Yellow while she cried into her hands. As if Mother Nature herself was sympathizing with her, the rain intensified with her sobs, and began to let up as her tears began to ease. By the time Yellow had fully calmed down, the rain outside had stopped completely. When Gold offered her a tissue, she took it and first wiped her eyes before cleaning the remaining snot out of her nose and off of her face.

“You feeling okay now?” Gold asked as she tried to put herself back together.

With a sniffle, Yellow nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good… thanks.” The tissue disappeared into some inventory Yellow had. Once it was gone, she brushed her hair back behind her ears and tried to compose herself. “Sorry to kind of… get emotional on you like that. I promise I’m not usually this much of a mess.”

“It’s cool,” He reassured the other brightly. Some light had returned to her eyes, and to Gold, that had made the entire thing worth it. “I’m just happy I could help.”

She smiled, and it was weak and fragile, but genuinely cheerful. It soon faded, though, as Yellow’s mind drifted. “I’m still mad at the others,” She confessed, “But I… I didn’t mean to make Bluey cry like that.” Yellow sighed tiredly and rubbed her eyes. “And Green was already upset about everything… ugh, I probably just made things harder on everyone. They probably hate me now...”

“Uh, they probably don’t,” Gold rebuffed. Like before, he didn’t know them well enough to say for certain. But he knew what he would think if he’d been on the receiving end of Yellow’s wrath. “I mean, I’m sure they’re not feeling the greatest right now. But if I were them? I think I’d be more upset about you and Second being hurt than about you yelling like that.”

“Maybe…” She conceded, sounding no less defeated.

“Tell you what,” Gold hopped up, smiling as he offered his hand to the downcast Yellow, “Why don’t we go talk to them? Maybe they’re mad too, but we can’t know until we ask, right? And if they are, we can just talk it all out and forgive each other.”

Like Gold had with his father. Granted, only time would tell if Mango Dad would follow through, but if he could, then they’d all be happy. Him, Purple… even King Dad, perhaps.

But that was an issue for another day. Right now, Gold had to solve what he could.

Yellow hesitated. Her hands nervously wrung the cloth still clutched within them. “I…” Her eyes kept darting to Second, making the reason for her hesitation obvious. “I can’t just leave Sec like this…”

“It’ll be okay,” Gold promised, “We’ll just be a few minutes, and then we’ll be right back.” Still, she looked anxious. Gold hummed and stroked his chin. His eyes darted over to the trap door, and a light bulb lit up over his head. “Oh, idea!”

He raced to the door, assuring a confused Yellow that he’d only be a minute, hesitating for only a moment before quickly stomping on it to force it open. An equally pixelated ladder from some game appeared beneath him. He swallowed his nerves back and placed a hand on the wooden item. It didn’t feel any different from real wood. If Gold shut his eyes, he wouldn’t know the difference. So he did. Shut his eyes, that was, as he slid down the ladder. Only when his feet touched the floor of the basement did he open them again, to the view of very normal stone.

Okay. He could handle going downstairs. If he closed his eyes, it was just a normal ladder, no problem. Sighing in relief, Gold called out, “Hey, Dad?”

Not even ten seconds later, both versions of his dad appeared; King and Mango, sticking their heads out from behind the corner with something like panic on their faces. The expressions matched nearly perfectly, except for the clear exhaustion that King carried like an old suitcase. The two calmed down in quick stages, going from frightened, to confused, to analytical, to finally questioning as they registered that there was no immediate threat.

After giving them a moment to calm down, Gold loudly shouted, “Can one of you come up and watch Second for us? Just for a minute or so!”

“Can King do it?” Yellow called down tiredly.

“Uh, Yellow wants King Dad to do it!”

The two versions of Dad exchanged glances. In just a second the pair seemed to have a full conversation, because King swiftly called over, “Okay! I’m coming up!” He then turned to Mango, “Finish up the cleaning, will you? And think a bit about what we talked about.”

“Hmph,” Mango Dad scowled. Oh, no. Please don’t let him be causing any more problems. All Gold had asked for was for him to be nice to Purple, sure, but they didn’t need the added stress of yet another Dad fight. Thankfully, one look at Gold’s face was all Mango needed to back down. He sighed, his expression lightening, “Alright, fine. I’ll finish up down here.”

With that sorted out, King Dad scaled the ladder with the ease and speed of someone who likely did this every day. Gold closed his eyes and followed suit. It was just like the ladder at the gym. Nothing special about it, really. Once they were topside again,Yellow waved at him as he climbed up and joined Yellow at the couch.

“I’ll keep an eye on Second, don’t worry,” King Dad assured Yellow. He glanced around briefly. “Is Purple in their room?”

“They took Green outside to cool off,” Gold informed him.

King Dad’s brow furrowed. “Just the two of them? All by themselves? After everything?” He took a few steps towards the door, new anxiety crawling on his face. “How long have they been out?”

“Not too long,” Yellow commented. She’d plopped the cloth back into the bucket at some point, and was leaning back next to Second on the couch. “Maybe ten minutes? Maybe twenty?”

“Purple promised they’d be back soon,” Gold reiterated, a knot tightening in his stomach. “Just… trust them, will you? They wouldn’t do anything stupid after everything that happened.”

“Well…” King Dad hummed as he mused, looking conflicted. “Purple knows the area pretty well by now. If they’re not back in another half hour, I’ll go get them.”

That was incredibly relieving to hear. Honestly, Gold had half-expected another explosion, another storm out into the world with everyone in the house capable of walking to find Purple and drag them home. Another incident that might have pushed everyone past their breaking point.

“Just take care of Second for me.” Yellow requested, and when King Dad agreed, Yellow finally allowed Gold to drag her away from the couch. Her heart remained with her ill friend; Gold could see that in the way her eyes kept darting backwards towards the couch. But she followed Gold anyways. The two arrived outside Gold’s door in under a minute. No longer could he hear the sounds of crying, which was a huge relief. Yellow raised her hand to knock, then hesitated for a long moment. She looked back at Gold, and when Gold gave her a firm nod and a thumbs up, she steadied her breath. And knocked.

“Come in,” Red called. Yellow swallowed audibly as the she twisted the doorknob. Gold’s bedroom door creaked open with a loud, prolonged squeak.

Blue and Red were both sat on Gold’s bed, Blue curled into Red. At first glance it appeared as though she was sound asleep in her friend’s arms, but when Gold and Yellow walked in she lifted her head to follow the noise. Their eyes met across the gulf between them, and then there was silence. Nothing but loud, ringing silence.

It was Blue, to Gold’s surprise, who broke the quiet, breaking away from Red to sit up straight and look Yellow in the eye. “Hey, Yellie,” She greeted with a pained smile, “Are you feeling better?”

“I…” The lack of hostility seemed to surprise Yellow, but she quickly nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay now.” With no small amount of hesitance, she shuffled forward a few steps. “How about you? Are you alright?”

Blue’s smile turned a bit more cheerful. “I’m fine, really. Sorry to go all blubber mode on you. Guess I’ve been more stressed than I thought.” As if to emphasize her point, Blue reached up and rubbed the last of her tears out of her swollen, red eyes. Gold felt like he was kicked in the gut yet again, but bit back his instinctual apology to instead stand back and watch.

As if to further bridge the gap between them, Blue stood, making a tentative step forward. She offered her hand, a silent declaration of forgiveness, and without any hesitation Yellow swept in to take it, pulling Blue in for a close, tight hug. Upon feeling Blue’s arms around her as well, Yellow exhaled deeply, releasing all the weight that had built up on her shoulders in a single, heavy breath. No more tears were shed. The two friends just drunk in each other’s presence, relieved of their burdens by carrying them together.

With that, the knot inside of Gold’s stomach finally loosened, allowing him to share in their relief.

“Sorry I made you cry, Bluey,” Yellow spoke when they separated at last.

Blue only laughed off the unnecessary apology, “It’s fine, you’re fine.” Her mirth faded and her smile fell, “Well, no, you’re not fine. You had to save Second all by yourself. That must have been so scary.” Yellow didn’t respond to that. Blue took her hands in her own, keeping her eyes on Yellow even as Yellow herself couldn’t lift hers off the ground. “I went with Green and Red because I was worried one of them would get hurt if I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to risk losing either of them, and I thought you and Sec would be safe here – if I thought for a second that they’d get that bad, I wouldn’t have left, I swear.”

“I know,” Yellow whispered, finally bringing her eyes up to meet Blue’s, “Heh, you’ve never been one to think things through, have ya?”

She ended with a poke to Blue’s nose, who complained with a light giggle, “Yellie!”

The two girls laughed in harmony. Behind them, arms crossed and expression blank, Red remained seated. He exhaled softly, and that was enough to get Yellow’s attention. She immediately released Blue’s hands, walking around them to meet Red eye to eye.

“Red,” She began, her hand awkwardly outstretched as if to take his own. She then covered the movement by folding her arms. “Listen, I… I’m sorry. What I said was really out of line… you were being useful. You’re always useful. I shouldn’t have said that, I just wanted to make you feel as bad as I did.” She wrung her hands and hung her head, awaiting Red’s response.

Not once did Red’s expression change as he stood up, facing Yellow in complete silence. He approached her in long, purposeful strides, stopping only an inch in front of her. Gold cringed as he raised his hand. Wait, was he really going to start yet another fight?!

Instead, Red flicked Yellow’s forehead fairly hard, and stuck his tongue out at her when she looked up at him.

“Pfft,” The mask cracked, and a funny smile lit up Red’s face, “Geez, you don’t gotta sound so serious. It’s far from the worst thing you’ve said to me.” He slung an arm around Yellow’s shoulder, and her face lit up again. “Besides, with Sec out of commission, somebody’s gotta be the irrationally angry one.” He beckoned blue over and she complied, sandwiching Yellow between them. “I guess you’d be the best one for the job, huh?”

“First of all, rude,” Yellow huffed with no real fire behind it. Her tone then got serious as she continued, “Secondly, I’m not irrationally angry. I think I actually have a very good reason to be mad at everyone.”

“Oh, I know,” Red drooped a little at the reminder, but quickly bounced back, “But you still love me, right?”

Yellow rolled her eyes. “Yes, Red. I still love you. Even if I’m mad.”

Hearing that brought Red’s grin out full-force. He pushed his head into the crevice of Yellow’s neck and nuzzled into it like a cat, and Yellow went along with his silliness, petting his head with long, gentle strokes.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry I wasn’t there with you,” Red’s words were whispered, as if conveying a secret to his dear friends. “I’ve never seen Sec look so… weak before. It was scary.”

“It was.” Yellow agreed.

“And I hate that I wasn’t there to help,” Blue added on, “We were all so worried when Sec came back to us, but when push came to shove, we left you by yourselves.” Blue averted her eyes briefly, making the pit in Gold’s stomach reappear. “Again.”

“Well, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” Yellow muttered, and though she didn’t name names, Gold could feel a shiver go down his back. “Remember that incident with the Lucky Block?” Though none of them responded verbally, Blue and Red’s synchronized winces made their answers obvious, “Green told me something after all of it, when I was feeling down. He said, ‘We can only do the best with the knowledge we have.’ You should have stayed, but you couldn’t have prevented Sec from melting, only helped with the aftermath…” Her eyes suddenly fell to the ground, “Green…”

“Is he still out?” Blue asked.

“Yeah, he hasn’t come back yet.” Yellow’s eyes darted briefly towards the window, then back to the floor, “Heh, I really made him mad, huh?”

A brief sadness crossed Red’s eyes, so quick that Gold almost missed it. Then he swiftly shifted back to playful, poking Yellow’s cheeks to the point where she winced away from him. “Ah, you’re worrying too much.” He scolded. “Green can’t stay mad at you! He loves you too much! Why else would he sit through those hours and hours of Asteroid playthroughs for you?”

“But he likes watching me play Asteroid…” Yellow argued weakly. She didn’t seem all that confident in her rebuttal.

“Nobody likes watching someone else play Asteroid,” Red stated firmly.

Gold finally allowed himself to pipe up, feeling, for once, that he could finally contribute to the conversation. “When I have a fight with one of my friends,” All three sets of eyes were on Gold, and though that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he kept going confidently, “I make them a card or something to really let them know I’m sorry. Dad says putting in a little effort helps them see the apology is sincere.”

“That’s a great idea!” Red agreed, jumping for joy.

“Sure,” Yellow agreed, but she looked far less certain than her friend, “But I’m no Second. My drawing skills aren’t exactly up to snuff, and I don’t want to give our resident sculptor something substandard.”

“It doesn’t have to be a card, though,” Blue chimed in. “Green really likes spicy food – how about I help you whip up some Mexican cuisine? We haven’t had much chance to make it recently since we’re still polishing off those many, many…manycakes.” Two glares were directed at Red, who whistled innocently, much to Gold’s bafflement. After a long pause, Blue’s attention returned to Yellow. “I bet he’d love it.”

“Heh,” A sheepish, vulnerable glean shone in Yellow’s eyes as she smiled softly, “You think so?”

“For sure!” Red encouraged, already herding everyone towards the door. Including Gold, to his brief surprise. “Come on! Let’s get cooking!”

--------------------

“Green!” Called the familiar voice of Purple behind him. “Green, wait up!”

The emerald stick huffed as he continued walking away, ignoring his violet stalker following behind with loud footsteps and splashes of freshly formed puddles on the ground. He had half a mind to spin around and yell at Purple, scream at them to go home and leave Green alone. But his body wouldn’t listen; any attempt to turn around made his breath hitch and his muscles stiffen. The only way Green could move was forward, so that’s what he did.

Just keep moving. Don’t look back at the people he disappointed. The friends he’d hurt. The family his irresponsibility had nearly destroyed.

Soft rain fell from the sky and began to soak through Green’s clothing. He could already feel it seeping through his shoes and dampening his socks. Though the humidity had dropped since the rain had started, an unpleasant warmth still clung to Green’s skin. The only comfort Green was afforded was that, thanks to Second, the persistent headache and fogginess from his head wound had finally, finally faded.

If he was being honest, Green didn’t deserve that relief.

“Hey!” Purple continued to call. They were getting closer. In response, Green upped his own pace, until he was only a notch down from running. Still, Purple persisted. “C’mon, man! At least take an umbrella! You’re soaked!” When that failed to get any response, Purple pressed further. “You’re going to get sick, man! And after Sec just healed you! If you get yourself sick, Sec’s gonna feel so bad. I can already imagine them wondering why their power wasn’t enough to protect you…”

Green halted in his tracks, a knot forming in his stomach. “You’re such a jerk.” He snipped, but allowed Purple to catch up and shelter him with their umbrella. Ugh, and they had that face. That smug, satisfied expression that clearly stated that they won.

Tch. Whatever. It wasn’t worth the effort to complain.

Instead Green crossed his arms and continued walking forward, the pitter pattering of the rain above his head. Purple matched his slower speed with ease, keeping him covered. “Listen, dude, what Yellow said…” They hesitated, obviously puzzling over the right thing to say. “She was wrong. I get that she was upset, but she had no right to yell at you all. And her making Blue cry like that was inexcusable, I get why you’re so mad-”

No, though it made Green’s gut coil that it wasn’t about Blue’s broken sobbing. If it was, maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem. “I’m not mad about Yellow going off on us.” He interrupted, halting without warning. Purple almost overtook him. Their eyes met, confusion and concern bearing into Green’s brain. It was nearly too much. He broke their gaze as he softly revealed, “I’m mad because she’s right. I’m a terrible friend.”

He managed to catch a glimpse of Purple’s eyes widening in shock before Green forcefully turned away, bracing himself on a nearby wooden fence. The wood was old and worn; Green could almost hear Yellow scolding him about splinters and infections and being more careful. And Sec would be right there with her, threatening to break his hands if he got himself hurt. But they probably wouldn’t. Probably. Depending on their mood. The thought made Green want to laugh. Instead, he bit back a sob.

“What do you mean?” Purple asked. The fence creaked and groaned, shifting as the burden of Purple’s weight was added to Green’s.

Biting his lip, Green turned away from Purple’s attempts to get him to look at them. It felt strange to tell this story without the others, or at least Sec. Technically it was Sec’s story, after all. But with all the trouble they’d caused Purple and their old man the last two days, the truth was the least Green owed them.

“There’s… something we’ve been keeping from you.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I figured,” Purple revealed quite casually. “You guys are great at a lot of things, but you suck at subtlety.”

So they’d caught on. Green wished he could say he was surprised, but nope. Not at all. “A lot’s happened in the past few weeks.” He kept his eyes on the expanse around them, the vast field of grass that spanned the distance between them and the forest. “…Not too long ago, Second was kidnapped. Then Yellow, too.”

Purple gasped. “What…?”

“It happened so suddenly…” It was like Green had been transported back to that day… everything was so normal, just play fighting between themselves and Alan like normal. Then that dreaded whooshing of the WiFi portal opening, the Chosen One falling through it, covered in glitches and gasping in pain. That had been where the trouble really began. “Chosen appeared out of nowhere and dragged Sec into this crazy fight with these…” Villains, monsters, how could you do that to our friends, how DARE you hurt them…?! “Criminals, I guess? Some shady organization like you see in spy movies. By the time we caught up with them, they were carrying Chosen and Sec away on these flying vehicles…”

Just recalling that day made Green’s hands shivered. In a poor attempt to cover it, he tightened his hands on the wooden fence, feeling the wood dig into his skin. The sensation was unpleasant, but grounding. It helped him stay focused on the task at hand.

“Of course we chased after them, but… they got us first. And then they took Yellow, too.” Green let a single sniffle get through. Purple reached over and patted their arm, but didn’t interrupt. “We did eventually manage to find them…” After days that had stretched like years, after worry eating him and Red and Blue alive as they fought to follow their friends into hell. “And that’s when we found out Sec had superpowers! They saved us all! And they were incredible!”

A huge smile crossed Green’s face at the memory. But it faded quickly.

“But when we got back… Sec wasn’t the same. They never wanted to fight with us anymore, or play games like they used to. Yellow had it rough for a while too, but she’s been getting better. Sec… hasn’t. At first I thought they were just scared because of… some stuff they were put through.” That was one thing Green couldn’t reveal. It wouldn’t be fair to Sec or Yel for Green to just spill their trauma. “But then I noticed that they’d be super careful when touching us, or how they’d only practice using their powers when we aren’t around. And I realized…”

Purple finished his thought for him, “Second’s scared of their powers.”

Green nodded in agreement. “Yeah. That’s why I made everyone visit yesterday, and pushed Second into showing off. I thought maybe if Sec saw you and King get excited over what they could do, they’d realize their powers aren’t scary, they’re cool! Just like Sec is!” Shame made Green duck his head. “And all I did was make it worse. Yellow was right. I’m a terrible friend.”

He ruined everything. After all that nonsense he’d spewed about being there and protecting them, he’d let Sec down again. Despair pulled Green down to the mud where he belonged. It stained his pants, but Green didn’t care, simply slumping down next to the fence.

Not too much time passed before Green heard Purple shift and slide down next to him. They hummed inquisitively before breaking the silence. “Yeah, you’re right.” They agreed. “You’re the worst.”

That one remark broke through Green’s wall of self-pity, causing him to wrinkle his nose and look up at Purple. They had that smile on their face, the same one from their days as a trickster king, and its presence only served to baffle Green further. Were they… making fun of him? “Gee, thanks.” He muttered under his breath.

Unphased, Purple pressed themselves against Green’s side, waving their hand dramatically. “Like, that one time when you chased me while I was having a breakdown and talked me down? Absolutely terrible.”

What?Green’s brown furrowed as he turned his attention fully to Purple. “That was-”

“OR when you threw that concert? You could’ve just blamed everything bad that happened on your friends and gotten off scott-free, but nooo! You had to be a lame-o and decide you all made mistakes and that it was nobody’s fault but the silverfish!” Purple tittered sarcastically, “Boring~! Or how about that time when-”

“Alright, geez!” Green interrupted, beginning to feel lighter despite himself. “I get it.”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Purple tapped their chin as if lost in thought, like the liar they were, “I can think of a ton more examples.”

Green jabbed Purple with his elbow as a not so subtle ‘shut up.’ In lieu of a proper response, Purple cackled maniacally. Only when they calmed down some did Green give them their due. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“Well, somebody’s gotta be the sane one around here.” Purple shrugged dramatically. “Can’t always be you, I guess.”

Comfortable silence stretched between them; a pleasant reprieve from the bucket of trauma Green had just dumped on his friend. Even the rain had stopped, leaving the air ripe with the fresh scent of grass and petricor. Purple picked themselves up first. They’d knelt down while remaining on their tiptoes, sparing their shorts the same muddy fate that Green’s pants were now suffering. The dampness Green felt as he followed Purple’s lead was unpleasant, but not too bothersome. Washing them tonight would be a nuisance, but that was a future Green problem.

Future Green was a jerk. He probably deserved it.

“So, what are you going to do about Yellow?” Purple asked as the two resumed leaning against the wooden fence.

Honestly, Green wasn’t entirely sure yet. “Well, apologize, for one,” He said as he pondered his next actions. Clashes of will between himself and Yellow were as common as Sec’s mid-day naps, so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory. This may have been the worst it had ever gotten, though. “Then maybe give her space? Good friend or not, I really screwed up on this one, Purple.”

“Why’d you leave, then?” They asked. “After what you just told me, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never left Sec’s side again.”

A single snort escaped Green’s lips before he could stop it. “Yeah, you’d think, wouldn’t you?” That’s what he should have done. What Sec and Yellow needed him to do. “But after Mango discovered you and Gold were gone… he was so scared. So angry. And I felt like… like I had to make it right.”

That was the short of it. Green could still hear those words echoing in his head. And if something bad happens to them, it’ll be on YOU for letting them go. If he’d been thinking, he’d at least have made Blue stay behind for Yellow. But his head had been spinning all day, and all that ran through his head was the thought of someone else he cared about getting hurt because of Green. So, instead of thinking, he’d charged into the fray and left Yellow to handle their ill best friend all by herself.

Tch. Just another bad decision in the string of them that had stemmed from Green’s decision to show off Sec’s powers.

“Sorry, man,” Purple winced as they delivered the apology. “I… didn’t think we’d be causing you so much trouble.”

Maybe Green should’ve been mad at Purple, but honestly? “You did what any of us would’ve done,” He consoled, “I can’t blame you for that. Looking back, I’m more mad at myself for not standing up to Mango.” Green shook his head. “He says he’s nothing like King? If you ask me, he’s exactly like the King we first met.”

“Yeah,” Purple agreed sourly, “He certainly is.” They looked up, and their eyes widened. “Hey, look at that…”

Green followed their gaze, and his breath hitched.

He’d… never seen a rainbow like this before. Sure, Sec could draw landscapes like this, and they were always beautiful, but always exactly what was expected. The only environments that carried any surprises were the ones from Minecraft, and they were nothing like what was before him now.

Maybe this place wasn’t all that bad.

“We’ve been out here a while,” Purple realized aloud as they inspected the horizon. “Ready to head back?”

Back to Second, who’d nearly died for the nth time since their kidnapping because Green abandoned them. Back to Yellow, who Green didn’t even have a clue how he’d apologize to yet. Back to Mango and King and Gold and the fights and the drama…

“Can we stay here for a little longer?” He asked, staring ahead at the arch of serenity in the distance. “We don’t get sights like this on the PC, you know? I’d like to take it in for a bit more.”

“…Sure,” Purple agreed, leaning next to Green on the fence. “Just for a few more minutes.”

--------------------

The fighting had given way to a tense sort of peace and quiet; the aftermath of a storm, where everyone was silently taking in the destruction. For the most part, King and Second had remained uninterrupted in the living room, with nothing but the distant sounds of creaking as others moving around the house. There had been a brief exception when the kids had torn through with hurricane speeds, calling back something about dinner before disappearing down into the basement. One last unnecessary surge of excitement before the anxious stillness closed in around King once again.

It was then, in the midst of silence, that the Chosen One reappeared.

King’s ears twitched as the sound of a sliding window broke the silence. He spun around to find the Chosen One standing there, nonchalantly carrying an armful of blankets as if they hadn’t just crawled in through the windows like a common criminal. They didn’t even dignify him with a proper explanation, instead nodding in greeting and sorting through the apparently random collection of blankets and pillows he’d brought all this way.

Well, King mused, at least they had more spares now. “You know the front door was unlocked, right?” He asked in lieu of a friendlier greeting.

Chosen One’s head spun around towards the door. “Oh,” They replied, then turned their attention back to King, “Did you want me to lock it for you?”

How could they have missed his point that badly? King watched them for a moment, bemused, before speaking up. “Er, no. We’re still waiting for Green and Purple to come back – did you see them on your way here, by any chance?”

“Which ones are those?” Chosen One asked.

Astonished, King stared incredulously at them for a few stunned moments before unnecessarily clarifying. “The green one and the purple one.”

“Oh, them. Yes, I saw them.” Chosen One revealed. King felt relief wash over him. “They were just hanging around and speaking a few blocks from here.”

The sense of relief that suddenly washed over King was indescribable. Purple and Green’s sudden departure had left him stressed and anxious; after everything that had happened today, how could it not? But Purple was a clever kid most of the time. They’d keep themselves and Green out of trouble. All he could do was trust them.

It was hard, but King had to have faith. The alternative was becoming a controlling monster, and King couldn’t do that to Purple. Not again.

“Good, that’s good,” He stated calmly, trying not to let on how much of a consolation that was to hear. Chosen One’s resting bitch face made it difficult to tell whether or not he’d succeeded. Another silence echoed in the chasm between them, and King became acutely aware that the two of them were alone. There was no one around to overhear. As Chosen One sorted through their blankets, King exhaled and tried to remain casual. “So… The Dark Lord.”

He could see the Chosen One freeze up in surprise. Then they deflated, head bowed in resignation. “I suppose I should have expected this at some point. Very well, I shall answer any questions you have.”

There was only one question King truly needed an answer for, and that was the question he asked first. “Is he a threat to my kids?” He asked.

“No.” Their answer was immediate and confident, which lifted a weight off King’s shoulders. “He… isn’t a threat to anybody anymore.”

Okay. That was all good to know. More questions burned at the tip of King’s tongue. Unlike Second, however, King didn’t feel any reservations about asking, except that Chosen One might be dishonest with him. But that wasn’t enough to stop him. “How did he end up like that?”

“Did the Second Coming not tell you?” They asked, then caught themselves. “No, of course not. I’m not sure they even fully remember it.” When they looked up to see King’s singular raised eyebrow, Chosen One elaborated. “They did it. They blasted the Dark Lord with a powerful eye laser that-”

“I’d guessed that.” King interrupted. He was far from stupid, and had connected the dots between the Second Coming’s flowing green electrically based powers and the scars that had covered the Dark Lord almost immediately. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to know. “I’m more curious about the events leading up to the attack.” Because if the Second Coming had lost control before and had gone along with showing off despite the known danger, then that would be an… issue.

Chosen One hesitated, gnawing their lower lip as they mindlessly folded the blankets in front of them. “It was entirely the Dark Lord’s own fault. He attacked those friends of theirs. Nearly killed them… No. Actually killed them.” King reeled back in shock. Killed? The Dark Lord had… “The Second Coming brought the four of them back, using their healing power and the data that had lingered after their passing. But before that, they took quite the beating from the Dark Lord. That was likely what triggered them using their powers for the first time.”

“You said they don’t remember it,” King recalled.

With a nod, the Chosen One explained further, “I don’t know why… perhaps because of how severely the Dark Lord had hurt them? But they don’t remember anything beyond getting stabbed by him the second time.” Stabbed? King’s heart jolted in his chest. Those kids were Purple’s friends… and they’d all been hurt so badly… did Purple know? “I couldn’t tell you. But when they fought back, it was more or less a one-sided beatdown. They’re so much more powerful than him…”

“And that put him in a coma…” King concluded.

“Right,” Chosen agreed. “I found him a little after the others left. He was near death, and completely helpless… Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I brought him home. Treated his wounds, put him to bed. Stole medical supplies to take care of him.” They stared off into the distance, entirely lost in their own memories. “It’s been some time… but nothing’s changed. He’s still in the same condition as the day I brought him back.” They sighed, “If I may, can I ask you a question?”

The urge to make the overdone dad joke was overwhelming, but given the seriousness of the situation, King refrained. “Sure.” He responded simply.

“Do you think I should kill him?”

Whatever King expected the Chosen One to say, it was not that. His mind went reeling as he stared slack-jawed at the super-powered stick. “Excuse me?” He asked, because maybe the Chosen One hadn’t just asked a complete stranger if they should kill their partner in crime. Maybe King was just going crazy.

“He’s shown no signs of recovery, nor do I have any idea if recovery is even possible.” The Chosen One sighed in melancholy. “At this point, it would be as much a mercy for him as it would be justice for the victims of the crimes we committed. And yet, when I think about it… I just… can’t.” Their hand shook as they squeezed them into tight fists. “And I don’t know why.”

“I would say it’s fairly normal to hesitate to kill your friends,” King pointed out. He decided to keep it to himself that even thinking about killing your friends was fairly abnormal.

“But he didn’t have any issues trying to kill me when I wouldn’t go along with him!” Chosen One objected, their frustration obviously mounting. “I don’t even know if we are friends anymore, or ever were. But the thought of killing him, I just… I can’t. I just can’t.” They buried their head in their hands, giving themselves a moment of rest before turning their full attention back to King. “I don’t know what the right choice is. What do you think I should do?”

Get a therapist was the first thought that came to King’s mind, but he swiftly shoved that thought out of his mind. Best go with something that wouldn’t risk getting himself incinerated. “I can’t make that decision for you,” King firmly stated. “This is between you and your friend”

Personally, King did think that the internet would be better with the Dark Lord dead. It would be better without the both of them. But if the Chosen One came to regret this decision, he refused to be their scapegoat.

“My friend…” An unexpected, fearful softness in their voice caught King entirely off guard. “I can’t even tell if we were friends anymore…” Everything in them slumped, as if the Chosen One was entirely drained of energy. “Our partnership was based entirely on our kinship as victims of our creator and our then mutual desire for destruction. And when I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore… things got ugly. I don’t think I’d ever been in a fight that bad. We nearly killed each other.”

“I can imagine,” King agreed. “But… out of curiosity, how did the discussion about you not wanting to hurt anyone anymore go?”

King got his answer from the sudden shift of Chosen One’s posture, the way they huddled in on themselves with a guilty air, but patiently allowed them to answer on their own. “There wasn’t one. It wasn’t a topic of discussion beforehand for the precise reason that I knew it would end badly. “

“So you never had a real conversation about it,” King mused over that tidbit of information, tossing it over and over in his head. “Well, no wonder you got into such a bad fight, then. He must have felt blindsided.”

“And that justifies him killing a bunch of kids?” Chosen One sniped back.

That was unexpected. King quickly assured him, “Of course not-” but Chosen continued as if they hadn’t even heard him.

“Our ‘friendship’,” They made exaggerated air quotes, a subtle growl in their voice, “ended the moment he decided to sic dangerous viruses on innocents. He was a terror, I know he was a terror, so then why… why can’t I just do it?” They reached up and grabbed their hair, tugging and squeezing on the black strands. King instinctively stepped forward with an arm outstretched to stop them before catching himself. This wasn’t Gold. Wasn’t Purple. This was the cursors forsaken Chosen One. He couldn’t just soothe them.

King covered the movement by reaching back to scratch his head. “Friendship doesn’t really work like that.” He explained mutely, not entirely sure how to explain a concept as basic as liking another stick. “You can’t control how you feel, even if you’d think logically that you should be feeling something else.” He snorted. “Trust me. If that were the case, I’d be having a much easier life.”

Chosen One seemed to consider that for a moment.”Perhaps,” They conceded, a mild reluctance in their voice, “But still, I wish it could be as simple for me as those children.”

Hearing that was so much of a shock that King had to choke back a laugh. “What?” He asked incredulously.

“Did you not hear their earlier fight?” Chosen One inquired, equally as confused. “The children have willfully severed their bonds. It seems that, despite all they’ve been through together, they weren’t strong enough to survive this. Tragic, but inevitable, I suppose.”

This time, King didn’t bother to contain himself. He laughed, a long, deep, full bellied laugh. Since meeting them the Chosen One had said some inane things to King, but that just might be the stupidest of them all.

When he looked up, he found himself amused with the expression of offense on his face. “Forgive me,” He said, his chuckle betraying his insincerity. “You don’t know these kids very well, do you?”

“I’ve only met them a few times,” Chosen One clearly was not used to being laughed at. They were just as confused as they were insulted. “But that doesn’t explain what’s so funny.”

King shook his head, “If you think that was enough to end their friendship, then you clearly don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. This little blow up? It’ll pass before the sun sets, that I can tell you.”

“You sound so… sure of that.” Chosen One remarked.

“Just watch them when they get back,” King returned his attention back to Second, whose condition had not changed since their bout of healing earlier. This meant turning his back to the Chosen One, but after all he’d exhibited, King felt himself oddly unbothered by the thought. “You might just learn a thing or two about friendship. Maybe you’ll even find the answer you’re looking for.”

Chosen One opened their mouth to respond, but the sudden sound of the door opening cut their conversation short. King grinned and spun in his seat, tapping his fingers against each other diabolically as he came face to face with the the two who decided to run out into the rain (which had stopped… when had it stopped?) after the crazy day they’d just had. At least one of them had thought to bring an umbrella.

“Well, well, well…” He purred maniacally, “Look who finally decided to show up. Do you have any idea what time it is, young stick?”

Purple, slightly damp from the weather and still wearing Gold’s vest, rolled their eyes, “We were gone for like, half an hour.”

“I was worried sick!” He proclaimed dramatically, throwing himself over the armchair in a faint. He could see Chosen One flinch back, startled at his sudden change in behavior. “You left without even a word to your poor, poor old man! I was in tears the entire time!”

“Funny, it doesn’t show on you at all.” Deadpanned the violet stick. King could see the muscles in their face twitch as they struggled not to smile.

“And you didn’t even think to call!” He accused back.

The playfulness suddenly left Purple’s face. King’s brow furrowed as he sat up. Something was wrong. He wanted to reach out, to console, to pry whatever was wrong from the poor kid’s face. But living with Purple had taught King a new kind of patience, so he merely stayed seated and watched as they worked up the courage to tell him what was up. “Er, about that…” They scratched the back of their head. Okay, this was guilty Purple. Which meant they were about to confess something either entirely mundane, or an actual crime. Could go either way. “So I kinda, sorta… broke my phone.”

“How did that happen?” He asked. It was a lot less serious than he was expecting, which was good, but now he was actually annoyed at them for stepping out without a way to contact him.

“Dropped it.” They revealed, speaking quickly.

King sighed, the sort of tired sigh he found himself giving many times since taking Purple in. “Okay, so, maybe tell me that before you run off next time?”

“I have my phone,” Green pointed out.

“And you may have noticed that despite that, I have not given you my number.” Snipped back King. “That is because I do not trust you not to text me memes in the middle of the night.”

Green gasped, mock offended. “How dare you!” He narrowed his eyes at King before turning away with his nose up. “I am a perfect little angel!”

What a liar.

A sudden bang! Cut through the living room unexpectedly, causing everyone present to jump in surprise. King scrambled to sit up straight in the armchair before his mind caught up with him, reminding King that it was likely the trap door making that sound – Purple, before they were familiar with how much force to open it with, would often startle him with the sound accidentally. Then they learned how to control it, and would startle him with the sound on purpose. Like them it was loud but, ultimately, nothing to fear.

The series of events that happened next flew by so fast that King was glad he managed not to blink, lest he miss any of the delightful chaos the brats caused. Yellow burst out of the basement first, followed by the rest of her friends, each carrying a different Mexican dish and shouting in excitement. Like soldiers on the battlefield they charged, and Yellow, having only had working feet for less than an hour, managed to trip over her own two feet and launch the dish in her hand forward. Green neatly dodged, so instantaneously that it was like instinct, and the plate of burritos instead hit Purple square in the face.

King winced. Ooh, and they’d just had that nasty bruise from yesterday healed.

“Hey!” Purple yelled, an equal mix of outraged and surprised as fresh Minecraft food dripped down their face.

“Oh my Cursors!” Yellow swore, covering her mouth to hide her gasp. She raced to Green, reaching out as if to touch him, but stopped herself at the last moment. “I am so, so sorry! I just- I wanted to make some of your favourite food, I didn’t mean to throw it like that- I-!”

She was cut off by laughter. Soft chuckling that slowly grew into louder, boisterous, joyful cackles. Before Yellow could recover from the shock Green wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up in a full-body hug. Yellow bounced back quickly and joined in with Green’s laughter, bringing him in for a tight hold the second her feet were on the floor.

Nearby, King could see Chosen One watching in mute shock. He gave them a big, flashy ‘I told you so’ smile that was straight from Purple’ repertoire.

“Sorry we left you all alone,” Green apologized, the most sincere King had ever heard him.

“And I’m sorry too,” Insisted Yellow, her arms still wrapped around Green. “Nothing that happened is your fault. I hope you know that.”

Somehow, King doubted that. Green’s eyes glanced downward to the floor for a fraction of a second, then swiftly met Yellow’s again. “Yeah,” He spoke gently, “I know.”

“Group hug!” Called Red, giving Green and Yellow only a second’s notice before the two were tackled by him and Blue. The once dull, empty living room was brightened by the echoes of laughter as the four friends held each other, spinning and giggling and snuggling into each other. When Purple stumbled into the fold, courtesy of a totally not guilty looking Gold, the others didn’t even slow down in their merriment, just happily accepting Purple into it and continuing to embrace each other fully.

And then, like the sound of their friends’ happiness had guided them back, the Second Coming finally began to stir.

The sound of their voice caused the others to still, silently astonished as they recognized Second’s groggy grumbling. Before King could blink they’d all raced past him, crowding around the couch with soft, silent gasps. King had to stand to be able to see them slowly force their eyes open.

“Sec?” One of them asked hesitantly, so softly King couldn’t recognize who spoke up.

“Guys…?” Second’s own voice was so soft and groggy that it barely sounded like them. Though they were supposedly fully healed, one couldn’t tell simply by looking at them. They seemed barely able to turn their head, and their eyes were dark and sunken in. But they were alive. That, at least, was better than they’d been when King had first seen them.

“Oh, thank Turing!” Green was the first to duck down and give them a relieved, tight hug, followed swiftly by Blue, Yellow, Red, and even Purple. At some point Gold had maneuvered to stand next to King, and his sweet little smile as he surveyed the scene brought another jolt of warmth to King’s tired heart.

It seemed they were finally ready to start healing.

“What ‘appened?” Second slurred. Their hands had briefly twitched as they attempted to return the hug, but apparently the effort had been too much, because they’d swiftly abandoned that action and instead just passively allowed their friends to control the hug.

“You don’t remember?” Yellow asked, and if she sounded more relieved than worried, King wasn’t about to comment.

Chosen One, apparently, had no such qualms. “That may be something of a blessing,” They commented as they approached. Second, in spite of their clear exhaustion, seemed shocked to see them there. Unconcerned by their surprise, Chosen One continued. “You almost died.”

“I…” Their eyes widened in shock, “I… almost died?”

“You did.” Like before, the Chosen One seemed annoyed to have to repeat themselves. “You overexerted your powers, and your body locked itself into a feedback loop that caused you to start melting.” They sneered, “Showing off like you did was incredibly irresponsible. You can barely control your powers, and as a result put yourself and the people you claimed to care about more than anything in danger.” They crossed their arms, “It was reckless at best. You should know better than to be so idiotic.”

Second visibly deflated.

King’s jaw dropped to the ground. Was that… was that their attempt at parenting? King had heard better attempts at parenting from Purple’s childhood stories, and those had given him at least three new guilt complexes.

Green was the first to recover from the shock, instantly jumping to Second’s defense. “Hey, it wasn’t their fault! They only did it because we made them!”

“So they are no longer capable of making their own decisions?” Chosen One asked as casually as if asking for the weather. “The Second Coming is an autonomous being with the power to say ‘no,’ and I fully expect them to exercise it. The responsibility of this incident is entirely on their shoulders.”

Anger radiated from Green as he tightened his fists and clenched his jaw. If looks alone could kill, the Chosen One would already be six feet under. Unfortunately that didn’t do anything to lift Second’s mood. Unable to physically turn away from the others, all they could do was squeeze their eyes shut and try not to cry.

With a loud clap of his hands, King drew all attention away from Second and towards himself. “Well, I think that’s enough of that!” He proclaimed brightly. Before anyone could protest King picked himself up off his seat and maneuvered over to the Chosen One, grabbing them by the shoulder, and if they noticed him digging his nails into them they didn’t complain. “Chosen One, you and I should go have a… chat. The rest of you can,” His eyes darted towards the plates of food the others held, and the burritos abandoned on the floor, “Get yourselves more food. Don’t forget to make Second a plate too, yeah?”

He was met with a chorus of grumbled agreements. The kids all gathered around the couch as they divvied out dinnertime chores, with Gold and Purple added to the mix. King let them sort it out amongst themselves as he guided Chosen One away from the gang and through the ruins of the kitchen towards the back door. Chosen One themselves was allowing him to, though judging from the look on their face, it seemed to be more from confusion than anything.

Once he had them outside, King allowed himself to explode, “What the HELL were you thinking?!”

Like a moron, the Chosen One cocked their head to one side in complete bafflement, “Uh, pardon me?”

“Your little ‘speech’ back there,” King clarified, already feeling a migraine coming on, “Did you SERIOUSLY think that was helpful?!”

Now that they knew what he was talking about, Chosen One turned stern, crossing their arms and glaring up at King – he was taller than them, how the heck did he not realize that? King was taller than one of the deadliest terrorists on the internet. That was… a lot.

“I was simply reinforcing that the Second Coming can’t be so reckless with their powers,” They insisted firmly. “They really should know better, especially when they are both inexperienced and magnitudes stronger than their closest match. You all are lucky their little outburst didn’t end up being even more destructive.”

An image came to King’s mind of Newgrounds post Chosen One and Dark Lord attack, and he shivered. Indeed, it could have gone a LOT worse. That said… “They were already suffering because of what happened,” He snapped at them. Through the kitchen window he could see Second lying on the couch with Green watching over them, he could tell from Green’s false cheeriness that they were still reeling from Chosen One’s scolding. “They didn’t need to be told how much of a screw up they are. They needed reassurance.”

“You scolded the two children back at the tunnel, and they were hurt.” Objected the focus of King’s ire.

Did they just have selective hearing or something? “I did,” He acquiesced, “But I ALSO made sure both of them were okay. You can’t just yell at someone because they did something wrong.” A lesson his past self still needed to learn, if what little he’d gathered about their impromptu trip out was true, “You have to give them empathy and understanding as well. Otherwise, they’re not going to get what you’re saying. They’re just going to feel bad about themselves.”

Thankfully it seemed the Chosen One was more receptive to constructive criticism than his past self, taking in King’s words with a thoughtful hum. “I have to admit,” Their already soft voice was quieter than normal, “I’m not the most… experienced when it comes to dealing with other animations. Outside of my former partner, I’ve had only a handful of conversations in the past few years, and half of those have been with these kids.” They glanced back through the window, to Second and Green. The others had all grabbed food at this point, and had joined the two back in the living room. Though the walls muted their conversation, King could tell from their excited gestures that it was a lively one, “You were right about their friendship. Even after all that, they’re just laughing and smiling without a care. How can they, when barely an hour earlier they were at each other’s throats?”

“Like I said,” It was strange; they’d gone from that stern glare to humbled in a minute, “You can learn a lot by watching those kids. They don’t always come at things from the right direction, but their dedication to each other is something really special. “

“Yes, you may be right about that…” They mused, “It was, after all, partially the need to protect them that allowed them to awaken their true potential. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to… observe them. See what effect their relationships have on the Second Coming’s powers.”

“Sure,” King agreed nonchalantly. Whatever excuse they had to make to themselves. By now the earlier rain clouds had mostly cleared, leaving the air refreshingly cool and the scent of wet grass wafting through the air. “Seems you’ll be right about the roof being dry by tonight. Still, you can sleep in the basement if you’d like.”

“I’ll…” A beat of hesitation, then the Chosen One looked away, “consider it. Thank you. Now, may I partake in the feast?”

A quiet snort of laughter left King. They were so… serious. “You may,” He allowed, and before he could blink they were gone, flying through the living room and towards the basement, if the shouts of surprise inside were anything to go by. What an oddball, King mused as he followed them inside. The disturbance they’d caused by blasting through had subsided quickly, aside from Blue apologetically wiping some sort of sauce off of Second’s very unamused face.

Everyone had a plate piled high with various types of Mexican food. Tamales and tacos and burritos, one of which King swiped off of Purple’s plate with a teasing grin. They whined as he took a bite, but weren’t really upset. Just annoyed. And it wasn’t like there weren’t many more piled high on the plate of everyone around the room. That is, everyone… except Gold.

King frowned. A part of him was hesitant to approach, his pounding heart reminding him of the contempt his child held. He could not, however, override the part of himself that had taken care of this child for years, and so he approached, “You’re not eating, honey?” He asked, barely suppressing a cringe as the pet name slipped out. The last thing he wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

“Huh?” Gold himself, however, barely took notice of the slip, “Oh, I’ve… already eaten.” His volume fell a little as he looked out over the others, “Purple and I didn’t really have time to eat before we left, so we were really hungry. I couldn’t wait.”

An instinctual scolding was swallowed back. Instead, King shook his head, ignoring fluttery memories of Gold attempting to sample baked goods well before they were ready. “Are you sure got enough, then?” He asked instead.

“Yup!” Gold proclaimed. Their eyes met for but a brief moment before Gold looked away again, “Don’t worry about me, King Dad. I’m fine.” He sighed, tired and relieved from the day’s events, and repeated, “I’m just fine.”

He didn’t quite look it, with bags under his eyes and his shoulders locked up with tension, but King couldn’t call him out. Not without pushing the child further away than he already was. “Just making sure,” He promised, pushing away from the wall to go check on the others.

If his heart twisted in pain when Gold sighed in relief, well, that was only for King to know.

--------------------

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of activity. Dinner had been a mostly joyful event, with jokes and stories and general unwinding from the craziness that had been the rest of the day. Mango and Chosen One had both decided not to join for their own reasons, which suited Purple just fine. The only thing undercutting their evening merriment was Second only managing a few bites of food before drifting back to sleep. Gold had kindly rejected Purple’s offer to share, insisting he’d eaten beforehand, so Purple polished off their entire plate by themselves, minus one or two things that King playfully stole off his plate.

After dinner, everyone got into another flurry of evening chores. Everyone except Yellow, who’d taken guard next to Second and refused to budge. If anybody had any problems with this, they’d refused to speak up. Purple had ended up on dish duty: the dirty plates had been unceremoniously shoved into Purple’s arms by King, who cooed that it was their turn to handle the dishes, since they hadn’t last night. So, with a grumble, Purple took the items into their inventory and made the perilous descent down into the basement, being careful not to fall to their death-

“It’s a one-story ladder,” King interrupted flatly, crossing his arms. “You make the descent nearly every day.”

Purple tossed their head back dramatically, “I could die and you don’t even care!”

“For shame!” Gold backed Purple up immediately, pressing against their back as he joined in the fun. Purple nearly spoiled the game by cracking up. It was just so obvious how new Gold was to the game, just from how fake his dramatic voice sounded.

Sternly, King pointed towards the basement entrance. “Dishes. You. Clean. Or else we’ll be eating off of books tomorrow.”

So, Purple made their way into the basement all by their lonesome, while everyone upstairs tidied up in preparation for a night of relaxation. In stark contrast to the chaos upstairs, the lower levels were still and quiet. Purple didn’t mind that so much, if they were being honest. Their friends were… a lot, sometimes. They loved the little rascals, but nobody could really blame them for needing a moment away.

In spite of their grumbling, Purple took care of the large pile of dishes in what amounted to a surprisingly little time. The mechanics of the game meant the grime washed off with basically a single scrub. Convenient! Why didn’t they use Minecraft stuff more often-

Wait. Never mind.

After they finished, Purple spun around and then immediately stumbled to scramble back as they found themselves face to face with Mango. The shock caused their heart to pound against their chest like a drum. Purple swiftly cursed themselves for not paying attention; if that had been a monster, or a home intruder, or one of Red’s stupid pranks, Purple would have been left completely defenseless.

Of course, instead of any threat to their bodily harm (or dignity, in Red’s case), it was Mango standing on the other side of the crafting table. Purple might have preferred a dangerous monster.

“Hi,” Started the less mature Old Man.

Purple echoed his greeting with a nervous wave, “Hi.”

More silence. A million questions came to mind – What do you want? Why aren’t you with Gold? Why are you staring at me…? – but Purple’s tongue remained still. Their shot nerves chose to freeze instead of their preferred flee, leaving Purple paralyzed in place. Their heart pounded in their ears, and suddenly Purple began to crave the lively noise from upstairs.

After a long stretch of a minute, Mango spoke up again, “Purple, I’d like to talk to you-”

They winced. Yeah, after all the trouble they’d caused today, they should’ve realized this was coming, but- but they’d really hoped it wasn’t.“I’m sorry, I know, I- I promise I’ll be better, so please just give me a little more time-”

“What?” Mango seemed genuinely baffled, which threw Purple through a whole new loop.

“You’re kicking me out, aren’t you?” They asked.

If he was confused before, then Mango was genuinely shocked to hear that. “What? No. No, I’m not kicking you out.” Purple tried not to look surprised, and must have failed, because Mango immediately clarified, “King is the owner of this home. I don’t have the power to kick anyone out.”

They weren’t completely convinced, but Purple allowed themselves to relax a smidge. Okay, so they weren’t going to be kicked out. Then why was he talking to Purple?

He sighed, straightening his back, “I’m here to… apologize.”

…Oh. So Purple was going crazy. That was what was going on.

“I’ll admit, I’ve been… uncharitable, towards you,” He continued, keeping his gaze towards the ground and away from Purple. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you. I am truly sorry.”

Purple felt vaguely smacked in the face.

But apparently, Mango wasn’t done with the surprise, “Yesterday,” He began after a brief pause, “When you and King were talking about your… family. I happened to overhear a little of it.”

A record scratch played in Purple’s head, freezing everything around them, “How much did you hear?” They asked, just to clarify.

“…Enough.” It was one word, but it spoke volumes. Purple’s mouth went dry. They opened their mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. So they just stood there and gaped like a fish as Mango continued, “Your family situation isn���t really any of my business. I let my curiosity get the best of me, and violated your privacy. I’m apologizing for that as well.”

“Oh.” Purple stared down at the stack of dishes in front of them. A sudden urge to reach forward and throw the clean porcelain at his head made their fingers twitch, but Purple reigned it in and focused on their breathing. In, and out. In… and out. “I mean, I guess it’s not a big deal,” They muttered. “I’ve kinda learned all of your family drama. Turnabout’s fair play, am I right?”

If Mango noticed how their throat tried to close on them, or how their skin was warm and clammy as nerves churned their stomach, he didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned forward on the crafting table, propping himself up on his elbows. Purple took a defensive step back, then immediately covered the movement by grabbing a spare burrito from behind them and nibbling on it.

“Sounds like you’d had it rough,” Mango, to his credit, did seem to be attempting to broach the subject cautiously. But why was he talking about this at all? He’d said his piece, why was he still going? “If anything I said or did made it worse-”

Guilt, they suddenly realized. That was the reason. Okay, Purple could work with that. They forced themselves to look Mango in the eye with their tiny, dimply smile. It was so much easier to play the part when they knew what role they were playing. “Nope!” They popped the ‘p’ sound playfully, “That little love tap from yesterday was just an accident. So no hard feelings!”

All at once, Mango’s shoulders slumped in relief and he leaned back, no longer quite so on edge. “Good, good.” He muttered, “That’s good. Just… wanted to make sure you’re good.”

Purple nodded, “And I appreciate it,” They said, sincerely, “Really.”

When Mango finally left them alone, Purple allowed themselves to sigh in relief. They’d been half afraid that Mango would press them for details, and after everything, Purple was not in any mood to talk about Mama or Pops.

It wasn’t that they hated their parents. Mama was the sweetest stick in the Outernet – kind and empathetic to everyone she met, spending every spare moment in their back garden. She’d always been kind of quiet, kind of spacey, keeping her distance from new sticks but always holding Purple and their Pops close. And Pops… they were so strong, so fiercely protective. They’d pushed Purple farther than they could handle, sure, but only because they wanted a kid strong enough to protect themselves. And when Purple proved they couldn’t, they’d… left. It had been hard, at the time, but Purple understood. So no, they didn’t hate their parents.

Like Gold before them, it was just… complicated. Hard to talk about. Nothing the family residents of the house weren’t used to.

The rest of the night passed by in a haze. Once chores were done (or at least, done enough for everyone to sleep comfortably), they’d settled in for a movie. Gold chose it, some action filled sports film that Purple was only half paying attention to. Second drifted in and out, being conscious only long enough for one of the others to force water down their throat before falling back into slumber. All throughout the movie Purple had played the part of the fun friend, making jokes with Red, and poking fun at Blue’s emotional responses, and teasing Gold (light, easy stuff, nothing to push their new dynamic as siblings yet), and annoying the Old Man. Mango was there too – Purple did their best to ignore him, but he’d taken a seat on the floor next to Gold. The two seemed to have made up, which was… good. The same couldn’t be said for Gold and King yet, but Purple only had to give them time. Just enough to settle in, and Purple was sure they’d find their way together again.

It was only one movie, and then everyone decided to retire early. Purple had no complaints; as Yellow and Green, both uncharacteristically silent throughout the movie, set out the freshly cleaned bedding yet again, Purple stumbled back towards their room. As they changed out of their (Gold’s) clothes, disposed of the old bandages, and got into their pajamas, Purple moved as though they were a machine, going through the motions of their nighttime routine: go to bathroom, wash face, brush teeth, then return to their room to brush their hair. The sun was only just setting outside; another day Purple might have complained about being sent to bed so early, but they were so wiped that they could hardly give two darns about that.

A knock on the door broke Purple out of their stupor. They jolted to attention immediately, mind racing to analyze the noise. It wasn’t chaotic enough to be Red, not rhythmic enough to be Green. It wasn’t soft enough to be Blue, nor was it Yellow’s firm, strong knock. Wasn’t the Old Man’s, and Purple doubted Mango would be at their door. With Second bedridden- er, couch-ridden, that only left one option.

“Come in, Goldie!” They called.

When the door creaked open, Gold’s astonished face peeked out. His expression alone was enough to make Purple laugh.

“How’d you know it was me?” He asked, gazing at Purple with total amazement.

They tapped their temple and waggled their eyebrows as they proclaimed, “I’m psychic.”

“Whoa…!” Gold fully stepped into the room, flapping his hands excitedly. Wait, he didn’t… actually believe Purple, did he? Geez, Purple had a lot of work to do with this kid.

Chuckling, Purple set down their brush and turned their attention fully to Gold. “You need something?” They asked.

“Oh, uh, right,” Shaking himself free of his stupor, Gold tapped his fingers together as he gingerly took a step forward. “My Dad- uh, Mango, told me that he apologized to you, and… you know, they’re both old. Going senile. Just wanted make sure he wasn’t imagining things.”

Aw, he was learning. Precious. “Yeah, he apologized,” Purple confirmed. It had been awkward as heck, but it had happened.

“Good, good,” Gold nodded, oddly reminiscent of his father. Purple leaned back, letting a wave of amusement pass through them, “That’s good. Just wanted to make sure he wasn’t, ah, imagining things.” He scratched the back of his head and stuck his tongue out, laughing, “Can’t have anyone lying about my favourite little sibling!”

“You’re still saying that, huh?” They asked, taking their brush in hand again. After the day’s events, they weren’t surprised that the gentle waves of their hair were all tangled up.

“Weren’t you the one who called yourself that back in the tunnels?” Gold asked cheekily. He tenderly poked Purple’s cheek.

Not expecting the sudden contact, Purple jumped slightly, then covered the movement by smacking Gold’s hand away. They didn’t put any actual force behind it, of course. It was all in good fun. “I said no such thing.” They stated, lying.

Gold protested immediately, jostling Purple by shaking them from side to side. This was less intentional and more just excess energy escaping via sibling torment. “Yes, you did! You said it straight to my face.”

Continuing to comb their hair, Purple casually responded, “Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah huh!” Gold countered. He may have protested more, but the playful bickering was suddenly brought to a halt by a loud grumbling.

Purple paused. Looked up. Gold wasn’t meeting their eyes, looking off to the side while trying far too hard to look casual. Their eyes narrowed. “Goldie,” They spoke lowly with a warning tone, “Was that you?” Gold didn’t respond, but the sudden blush on his face was answer enough. “If you didn’t get enough to eat, dude, you can take leftovers. The others won’t mind.”

“I… got more than enough,” He tried to assure Purple, but already he was failing miserably. Averted eyes, hesitating when speaking, nervous body language… all the classic telltale signs. “Like I told you, I ate before you and Green got back.”

That… also had the telltale signs of lying. Purple narrowed their gaze at Gold, accusing him with their eyes, and it was enough for Gold to take a brief step back. Seeing that made Purple sigh and put their brush down again. The knots could wait. This was a little more urgent. “Goldie,” They spun around to face him fully, “I am a master liesmith. A professional gaslighter. I spin more tall tales before breakfast than you’ve told in your entire life.” Gold tensed under Purple’s scrutinous gaze. “If you’re going to lie to me, then you’re going to have to do a lot better than that. Now, let me ask you a different question.” They stood up, forcing Gold to meet them eye to eye. “Did you actually eat anything today?”

“Well, I mean…” He hesitated, but Gold’s defeated posture left Purple confident they were going to get the truth. “I tried, I promise!” He suddenly cried out, taking Purple aback, “I really did! It’s just… I just look at it and I can’t… urgh! It’s so STUPID! It’s not the video game’s fault, so why am I still…?”

And just like that, it clicked. The food was all Minecraft food. Purple mentally kicked themselves for not realizing sooner that this would be a problem. They’d seen it before, back in the woods and in the tunnels, when Gold had freaked out over Minecraft items. To be fair, that was one thing he’d managed to hide rather well, but Purple had been subject to enough quiet panic attacks to tell when someone was hiding their own discomfort. How had they not seen that this would be an issue?

“Hey,” They soothed, almost absentmindedly as they placed a hand on Gold’s shoulder. This froze his spiral and forced his attention on to Purple. “It’s okay. You said you tried, and that’s what really matters, okay?” Gold only nodded along, but his heart didn’t seem in it. Well. The Minecraft phobia was a ‘later’ problem. For now, food. Purple couldn’t just let the kid go hungry. So, somewhat resigned, they leaned in closer to whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”

Instead of a verbal response, Gold brought his fingers to his mouth and mimed zipping it up. Message received.

With a wave of their hand, Purple gestured for Gold to follow after, and lead him to the upper left corner of the bed. Then, they leaned down and felt for the subtle grips in the wooden flooring, making sure they had strong leverage before pulling the plank free. It creaked in protest, but didn’t do much more as Purple pulled it away and set it aside. They then reached into the hole and procured a plastic bag, which they held out to proudly display to Gold like a trophy.

Inside the bag was at least fifteen different kinds of candy. Gold himself gasped. “A candy stash!” He sounded almost as impressed as he did when Purple revealed their talent for the violin. “But how did you hide this from Dad? I can never keep a secret stash longer than a few days before he finds it!”

Purple shrugged. In reality, King didn’t do too much to regulate Purple’s living space – it was supposed to be somewhere they’d feel comfortable, he’d said, and so aside from some gentle suggestions he’d mostly stayed out of it. But it was more or less an old habit from Mama and Pop’s place. Not for sneaking treats, oddly enough, but a skill Pops had purposely cultivated in them. It’s important to be able to hide necessary supplies, they’d instilled in Purple. If it was taken, they’d be plum out of luck. It was more an old habit to hide food or other important stuff than an actual necessity.

“You can have as much as you’d like, provided you don’t tell anyone it’s here,” Purple decreed. Gold hardly needed more than ‘you can-’ before he’d dug into the bag and began munching. “We’ll probably be going shopping for real food after things calm down a bit, so hang tight until then, okay?”

Mouth too full to answer properly, Gold just nodded.

The two hung around for a while Gold got his fill of candy. Logically Purple knew that it wasn’t a great idea to substitute Gold’s diet with junk food, but if he couldn’t eat the Minecraft candy then, well, there weren’t any other options. Tomorrow Purple would come up with some excuse to get the Old Man to go to the store, so at least they’d have something normal that Gold could eat. While he ate, Purple resumed trying to get the knots out of their hair. There wasn’t any meaningless small talk between them; just soft, relaxing, companionable quiet.

It didn’t last. It never did.

Two sharp rasps at the door alerted Purple that either Mango or King was at the door. By that point the candy had been returned to its hiding spot and the floorboard replaced, so Purple didn’t have any qualms about calling out, “Come in!”

King walking in was a major relief. Wrinkled foreheads and baggy eyes had never looked so angelic. “Well, look at that,” He looked over the two in awe, something soft twinkling in his eye, “Seems you two are getting along just fine.”

“Hey, Old Man,” Purple greeted while casually leaning back. They tossed their comb back into its place now that it had done its job.

“Something up?” Gold asked, sitting back on the bed. He was trying to be casual, but a little too tense to pull it off.

If King noticed, he didn’t let on at all. “Since we didn’t have any time to figure out alternate arrangements, your… father and I,” Purple wrinkled their nose at the wording of that. Like King wasn’t also Gold’s father? “Are going to spend the night in your room again. If you don’t mind.”

Gold more or less shrugged, “Fine by me. Just don’t start fighting again. I know you guys got up last night.”

Neither Gold nor King seemed to notice Purple wincing. Good.

“We won’t,” King promised with an awkward cringe, “Feel free to take your time finishing up, but Mango’s already setting up to sleep, and I’m going to join him once I check on Second again. We’ll see you soon, hon.”

And with that, King left as quickly as he appeared.

Gold picked himself up shortly after, “I think I’m gonna turn in too. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Purple agreed, though they couldn’t help but feel a bit wistful. Gold was… actually fun to be around. They were surprisingly sad to see him go.

Maybe they had let their longing slip out, or maybe Gold felt it too, but he paused right in front of the bedroom door. The air between them was still, quiet masking the hidden emotion in the air. Purple found themselves sitting up and staring at Gold, finding themselves feeling a well of expecting within them.

“Hey, Purple?” He broke the silence with a soft, quiet question. “How about you come spend the night with me and our Dads?”

What…?

He’d… oh. Oh, he was…

It took a moment for Purple to recover from the shock. Before they could completely process the offer, their mouth was moving, “Are you sure? I mean, there’s not a lot of room left, with those two giants, and- and I don’t want to interfere with your family time…”

Unphased, Gold strolled over to Purple and took their hands in his own, meeting their nervous hesitation with kindness and patience, “You can share my bed,” He reassured them, already taking teeny tiny steps to drag Purple forward with him, “And… well, it’s not family time if the whole family isn’t there.”

Oh. Oh, he was really serious about this whole siblings things, huh…?

Swallowing back the last bits of their hesitation, their internal objections that they were just intruding on King and Gold’s real family, Purple allowed themselves to be dragged along to Gold’s room. Gold’s hand was almost as warm as his smile.

For a moment the two paused outside of the door. “Mango Dad’s in there,” Gold recalled in a whisper, “I know he apologized and all, but… if he makes you uncomfortable, we can spend the night in your room.”

That was something Purple couldn’t do. While they were allowing themselves to indulge Gold, stealing him from even Mango was a bit too far. So with a wink, Purple quietly reassured, “Nah, it’ll be fine. Watch and learn,” And, without any further warning, they tossed the door open.

Mango, who’d been lying on his sleeping mat, jumped at the noise.

“Out of the way, nerd!” Purple sneered as they marched through, followed by surprised but giggly Gold, “We have a strict ‘No Geeks Allowed’ policy on this bed!” And with that they fell back, bouncing a little on the sturdy bed.

“Hehehe,” Gold was only barely able to contain his laughter, “Y-yeah… only cool kids allowed!” He fell on to the bed by Purple’s side, giggling like a little madman.

If it had been only Purple speaking like that, Mango may have reacted more negatively. Thankfully, though, Gold had chimed in, so when the two’s attention returned to the younger of the Old Men, he seemed more amused than anything else. “I take it Purple’s joining us for the night?” He asked. When Gold readily agreed, he only nodded, “I see. Well, good. It’s nice of you to join us.”

Purple was having a difficult time telling how sincere he was. The tone of his voice was more emotionless than anything.

Soon enough King returned, much to Purple’s relief, which quickly turned to amusement at the Old Man’s double take. For a moment he just stood at the door, processing his child and Purple wrapped up in Gold’s blanket like a pair of litter mates.

“I’m stealing your son,” Purple greeted casually. Gold responded by leaning his head on Purple’s shoulder.

Once King recovered from the shock, he quickly snorted off Purple’s proclamation. “You couldn’t afford him,” He said, and flipped off the lights before crawling into his space right next to Mango. As he relaxed, he called up one final warning: “Just be careful, kid. Gold’s clingy.”

“I am not!” Gold argued back, huffing and pouting like a spoiled cat. King just chuckled.

Purple fell back, snuggling into the pillow and making themselves comfortable. Gold’s bed was large enough for both of them to sleep with an arm’s length of space between them. The ceiling above shimmered with little plastic glow in the dark stars. A soft wind blew outside the window, carrying away the last heat of the day and allowing a pleasant coolness to settle over the Outernet. With the sounds of Gold’s light snoring in one ear and King and Mango’s sleepy mumbles in the other, Purple allowed themselves to drift off.

--------------------

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Warm drops of liquid fell, one after another, onto Red’s forehead, disturbing his peaceful slumber. He groaned as he was roused against his will, eyebrow twitching from the unexpected contact. “Guys…” He grumbled, “Thought we agreed no pranks after bedtime.” It had been a suggestion (read: mandate) from Sec themselves after an ill-timed buzzer woke them in the middle of the night.

No one responded. Realizing he’d actually have to get up to stop the liquid, Red groaned again and pushed himself up off the hard wooden floor. His hand flew up to his face and wiped the liquid from his forehead. Blinking slowly, Red stared down at his hand.

In the moonlight streaking through the window, he could make out a streak of orange on his skin.

Red continued to stare, his half-awake mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. As soon as it hit his brain he scrambled to stand, terrified eyes scanning the couch to find Sec.

All he found was an orange puddle, dripping off the soaked blanket.

“Guys…!” He cried, breath hitching as he struggled to breath. Sec was gone. He could barely believed it – he could barely think. Sec was gone. Sec was GONE. When no one responded to his call for help, Red turned to the others, “Guys! Sec is-!”

For the second time that night, Red felt his words catch his throat.

In his panic he hadn’t bothered to look at the rest of his friends. When he did, however, he was horrified to find them in various states of decay. Green was stabbed through the chest. Blue, her head. Yellow had been sliced from shoulder to hip, torso cut clean through. Blood pooled around the three as their bodies began to decay into sickly red code.

Red took two steps back before he hit something solid. Spinning around, he came face to face with vibrant red flesh and black, soulless eyes. The familiar monster didn’t even speak; before Red could move it thrust forward, stabbing him clear through the stomach. Red gasped-

-and awoke.

He gasped for air as he shot up, but managed to keep from screaming. Red clutched at his shirt, feeling his heart race underneath his finger. He willed himself to slow his breathing, in and out, in and out, over and over until, at last, his jaw unclenched and he was able to release his shirt. A nightmare. That was all it was, he told himself. Just a horrible, terrible nightmare. Based on real events.

Just to reassure himself, Red turned to check on each his friends. Green, breathing softly. Blue was snoring the night away. Yellow was clutching her pillow like a doll, snuggling it close. No blood, no stab wounds. Just sound slumber. Not satisfied quite yet, Red spun around to face the couch. There was Sec, safe and sound. Whole. In one piece.

Exhaling in relief, Red slumped back down to the ground in relief.

Welp. He wasn’t sleeping anymore tonight.

Red only allowed himself a moment more to recover before silently picking himself up and slipping away from the others. He would hardly call himself the stealthiest of his little gang, but all his time pulling pranks and stealing from the others had left Red with some skills. Nobody so much as stirred as Red escaped the living room and climbed down into King and Purple’s Minecraft Cave.

Like always, Reuben was awaiting Red when he descended, as though he’d somehow sensed Red’s pain. He ran up to Red and squealed happily, headbutting his legs. Red laughed, “Hey, hey! Calm down, mister!” With no other option, he bent down and rubbed at Reuben’s head. “Hehe, you silly little piggie. Did you eat all your dinner?”

Stupid Green had wanted to give Reuben the leftovers from dinner, but Red had vetoed that idea immediately. Reuben was going to live a good, healthy life, and that required good, healthy food. So Red had portioned out a good portion of veg and meat for Reuben’s munching delight. Nutritious, and delicious!

Reuben answered with a satisfied oink and a profound smacking his lips.

“Good, good, that’s good. Sorry to bug you so late,” Red’s hand moved from Reuben’s ear to his cheek to his neck, scratching and petting generously. “I was just… having a hard time sleeping.” Not when Sec’s melting body appeared every time he closed his eyes. He had to stay awake. He had to stop thinking.

He had to find something to do.

The memory of the destroyed kitchen upstairs came to mind. Red grinned down at Reuben, suddenly feeling a rush of energy. “But I think I have just the thing to help. C’mon, buddy, we’re gonna need to stop by the PC for a little bit. And then we’re gonna get to work!” Reuben squealed and jumped up into Red’s arms. Red caught him, laughing. “Yes, we are! Yes, we are, you good little piggy!”

With a flick of the hidden lever, Red activated the portal into the Nether and stepped through, cuddling and snuggling Reuben. The others would throw a hissy fit when they realized that Red went out – and in the middle of the night, no less – but that could wait until tomorrow. For tonight, there was work to be done!

The portal faded closed, and from the corner of the basement, a pair of bleary ruby eyes watched Red’s retreat. They pondered for a moment, debated, then snuggled back into their pile of blankets. Whatever was happening right now was not their concern.

--------------------

AKA: Everyone makes bad decisions: The Chapter.

Today is my birthday! :D I was so happy to get this done today! Though, I'll admit, I did rush through some of the proofreading, so don't be afraid to let me know about anything amiss you find.

I decided to forego consistency for the art and just focus on having fun. So… yeah. Sorry if it comes off as weird in any way. And I'm aware this chapter is ridiculously long, so please, feel free to ask questions about anything you find confusing. I'll answer, and maybe even edit the chapter to make it less confusing, if I can.

There was a line changed in the previous chapter to make it compliant with this chapter. It's not particularly big, but there was a comment about this line, and I realized then it didn't quite fit with the narrative. So, I altered it.

I'm a little nervous, since I got a lot of nice comments on the first chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy this one just as much! There were admittedly points where I got writer's block really bad, I hope it doesn't show in any of the quality. And weirdly enough? I only really got through it to finish the chapter thanks to Metaphor: Refantazio. I don't know why, but something about that game makes me want to create. I love it dearly already <3

Here's hoping the next chapter will be more chill. Also, Tumblr Index will be going up soon.

[knightmareaceblue]

Get the EVIL BOOP!

🐾🐾

Evil boop!

[knightmareaceblue]

Booping beans, ATTACK!!!!!!

[knightmareaceblue]

Hello,🕊️

I am Noor, a mother of three children from Gaza. The war has destroyed our home and our lives, and my children live in constant fear and deprivation. Every day is a struggle for survival.

I kindly ask you to share my story. Your help could restore our hope and open a new door to life for us.

Please, be our voice in this difficult time.

vetted ♥️🙏🌷. @90-ghost 🌷🙏♥️

Donation link🌹

https://www.gofundme.com/f/rebuilding-lives-a-mothers-plea-for-hope-and-safety-in-gaz?lang=en_US&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link

🙏 🌷

Hello Noor,

I don't have the funds to help out right now, but if anyone else does, please donate if you can.

[knightmareaceblue]

I hate to be rude, but don't suppose you could *also* put your ava fic on ao3?

I'm trying to show a friend who doesn't have Tumblr and the screenshots are killing my phone

...I forgot to link the AO3 version, didn't I?

(Sigh) Here you go.

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 7: OC

This is Kaen, He his a magical fire vulpine, Kaen is a mischievous prankster that light people’s hair, Kaen can fly just like a rocket ship, Water is his weakness and doesn’t like the heavy rain because it will destroy him and his favourite food is spicy hot sauce especially on peanut butter and banana sandwiches

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 6: Enemies

Go home Ledge, I work alone!

Why does this scene reminds me of “The Incredibles” ?

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 5: Crossover

This is Delete and Scratch as Merbots so enjoy!

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 2: Science

This is about Matt and Slider working on a science project about Volcanoes

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 1: Redraw

So I decided to redraw from the Poddlevile Case episode!

This is actually better than the traditional one that I draw two years ago 😊

[knightmareaceblue]

For @cyberweek

Cyberweek Day 3: Magic

Shari Spotter doing her magic and who wants a cup of tea and cookies?

[knightmareaceblue]

It begins! A long road ahead always looks so mysterious. The dense foliage certainly doesn't help

[knightmareaceblue]

A redraw of the group photo from the Nether hopping arc! I wanted to get in more practice drawing the characters in this specific style, and also see if I can fix some issues with their designs that were bugging me. I... mostly succeeded on that 2nd part?

Some notes regarding these CG designs (plus some headcannons):

-Red's outfit frustrates me, because I like it a lot without colour, but once I start trying to add colour it always ends up looking off. The current colour scheme is fine, I guess, but I'm a little torn on whether or not the colours suit Red, and not making him too close to the other colour schemes present (which I like a lot more).

-Red's outfits will often have animal motifs designed into them. Usually cat, rabbit, or pig, but they have all sorts of animal clothes.

-Though it can't usually be seen due to not drawing them with their hood up often, Red's hoodie has cat ears. The reason I don't usually draw the hood up is because I like drawing his hair too much.

-Red will alternate between gloves, bracelets, and, post AVM season 3, a yellow headband and armbands.

-Under the hoodie Red will usually wear a tank top or crop top. Though it can't be seen in this photo, the arm holes for the hoodie are incredibly large, so Red's top can sometimes be seen when lifting her arms or looking at them from the side.

-In general, I do like Yellow's outfit. It suits her personality well and has some good colours. My primary concern is that it may be too... plain? Stereotypical? Basically, that it's too stereotypically 'nerd' to be interesting. But I can't come up with anything better, so this'll be her default outfit for now.

-What I do like on Yellow, however, is the hair. I think the short hair with a singular braid is really cool. A nice mix of neat and practical and stylish, especially mixed with the glasses.

-One issue I do have is with the boots. All the shoes in general, actually. They all look so samey, especially Blue and Yellow's boots. This is a pretty simplistic style I'm drawing in though, and I don't want to make anything too complicated. Why do shoes have to be so stupid?

-I used to have the same problem with Second's outfit as with Red's - particularly, with their shirt. However, that's when I realized that Second is an artist, and can change their shirt design at the drop of a hat. So, now the shirt has a different drawing on it regularly. Second will try to use all their friends colours in their designs. If they leave a person off, it usually means their either consciously or subconsciously upset with that stick. If they don't draw on their shirt at all and leave it blank, it usually means something's up with them.

-I also added leggings from the previous design. It felt right.

-Both Second and Chosen dislike shoes. I will not elaborate, but Second's tolerance is better than Chosen. He can handle it for short periods of time, but is usually grumpy and will kick them off first chance he gets.

-I like to imagine Second using her large, poofy hair to put things in, the same way she'd put things in their inventory. I also like to imagine Green is low-key horrified by this, while Red, Blue, and Yellow will also use her fluff to store things. Sometimes without Second even noticing.

-Second carries the belt with them in their hair in their inventory and will put it on before fighting/platforming so their oversized shirt doesn't get in their way. Otherwise they prefer to have their clothing loose and flowing.

-Everyone has a multicoloured accessory. Second was the one who started it with his bracelet, then the others wanted some too so Second drew up more for the gang. An anklet for Red, an armband for Yellow, a belt for Green, and a neckerchief for Blue.

-Green may just have the best outfit of everyone here. It's sleek, it's cool, it suits them, and it's easy to fight in (with an easily striped jacket if need be). I also added a lil choker.

-I don't think I expressed this before, but I didn't like Green's previous hairstyle. Something about it irked me, but I couldn't place what at the time. Now I know it'd needed more on top, haha.

-Blue's outfits tend to be more on the practical side, since they do a lot of manual labour, but with bits of fun and whimsy added in. After AvM Season 3, she trades her funny socks for long funny socks and fun stockings.

-The original intent was for everyone to have a different type of hair, but Blue's and Yellow's ended up a lot more similar than I'd hope. The idea was for Blue to have really thick hair, but it's hard to tell. Might think of something else later.

-Anyone who wants something different can go to Second and ask. They all have their own things they like, but they're all willing to try almost anything, with very little exception.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I think I really like these character designs I came up with. :)

Original pic used for reference:

[knightmareaceblue]

HOLY SHI- Omg I'm freaking out. Okay, so, I just randomly saw your Ava art and went "A very familiar artstyle, huh." But I couldn't really tell cuz yknow, they're sticks. But then I saw your username and almost DIED!!! I REMEMBER READING VALIANT SOULS AND FREAKING SOBBING OMG- Haaa, I used to be obsessed with it lmao. I haven't seen your stuff in a while cuz I'm not in the thsc fandom anymore and I didn't have a Tumblr acc back then. But I was a big fan back and I'm so glad I found you! Would love to see your wonderful content once again and hopefully stick around this time <333

This comment is literally so sweet. Haha, I'm glad Valiant Souls is still remembered fondly, even though you're not in the fandom anymore. In the meanwhile, I hope you like this instead of VS stuff.

Here's to sticking around! (Clink)

[knightmareaceblue]

Reminder to stay warm as the weather gets colder!

[knightmareaceblue]

You'll never see it comin'~!

I dunno, I just got the idea of the sticks cosplaying as phantom thieves, and so I drew it. Just having a bit of fun with one of my favourite video games and my current hyperfixation. The constumes were chosen less based on which phantom thief matched which stick, and just what outfits I felt would be fun to draw them in.

And don't worry, I haven't forgotten the others.

"Ah, casting the Victim as the token traitor, hmm? How original."

"You kidnapped me, you have no place to- Dark Lord, what are you doing?"

"What? I'm a gymnast now, aren't I? Gotta look the part."

Bonus: How they got King in on it:

Somebody help this man.