#and because constant qCodebreakers brainrot

[found-wings]

Etoiles can feel the way his body aches as it meets the ground, choking out a breath as he attempts to push himself back up. A swirl of greens and blacks clouds his vision and with one simple strike, everything goes dark.

There‘s nothing.

Wherever he was now, it was completely dark. It felt oddly comforting in a way.

There was no extreme temperature, no noise, nothing to worry - he felt floaty. His body felt light and with no ache at all, it was a feeling he wasn‘t tell familiar with anymore.

"You did well," a voice hums. It doesn‘t come from any specific direction and it’s more so as if the voice is everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

As if it‘s part of his own mind, and he’s hesitant on responding this time but chooses to do so anyway. "..I failed."

A chuckle echoes into the void and Etoiles can’t help the small smile that forms because of its comforting familiarity.

"You‘re always so set on winning, on beating everyone." As the voice speaks, there‘s something carefully and ever so slowly brushing through Etoiles hair. He recognises the pattern that the voice follows and just for now, he lets himself relax back into the almost ghost like touch.

Etoiles can almost imagine himself laying on the floor, his own body tainted with blood and potions that were cracked open spilling out. He can almost hear the voices of the others calling out for him, seeing him fail. Fail at winning, at protecting them. "I have to protect them."

"And who protects you?" Comes almost immediately back and Etoiles falls silent.

The second chuckle of the voice makes the grin it wears obvious, Etoiles huffing. Phil was quick and confident, and with being knocked down after so many wins, Etoiles couldn‘t help but admire that.

He‘s won against Phil in their sparring sessions multiple times, he‘s beaten the other Islanders more than he can count and he‘s never lost against the code until now. And yet, Phils confidence never faltered.

He can‘t help but admire the way Phil didn‘t let failure stop him.

"God I suck at pvp," Etoiles finally whispers back with a chuckle of his own, the motions of the fingers brushing through his hair stopping only to give him a playful push.

He can almost hear the roll of Phils eyes. "No you don‘t. You simply found your match today."

Etoiles hums as Phil returns to playing with his hair, still keeping his eyes closed during all of this.

"Finding my match resulted in my death. Me dying means I lost. So I suck at pvp if I die. That‘s the basics, Phil." He was being rather playful - or as playful as he can be while laying within deaths arms - and Phil knew that. They didn‘t find each other often like this.

"You don‘t run away from fights, so it was either you live to see it or you die trying." And Phil was right. Etoiles knew he was right and yet he couldn‘t help the feeling of.. guilt.

He was guilty.

His death would mean the loss of an important line of protection for the others and if - when - the Eggs return, them too.

He promised to protect everyone, he was tasked to protect everyone and yet he failed.

He failed the one thing he was the best at.

"How about we continue our chat next time when we‘re face to face? I prefer talking to your alive self," Phil suggests and the presence of him seems to lift higher.

Etoiles attempts to respond, question after question lingering about what next time meant, but nothing came out.

"It‘s time to wake up, my hero, before you forget how to."

And with those ever so softly spoken words, Etoiles gasps as his back presses against something cold and hard, heart rapidly beating and a high pitched noise ringing through his ears.

For a brief moment he can feel the brushing of feathers on his body, before their presence fades entirely.

All except for the one black feather in his blood stained hand.