Chapter Text
The Spawn and its believers were nasty people. They were all insane, driven by the Spawn of the belief of being able to gain a “Second life” after gaining a blessing. The cult has been a thing since the beginning. The cult has grown bigger and is dragging those who knew nothing of it into its chains. The Spawn is a religion that doesn’t let nobody leave out of it unless they have a death wish.
Before time trembled and before death had a name, there existed a space between spaces—a silver nothing, There was no such thing as death. But there was a thing such as life. In order for the Spawn to live up to its name, it must create life and grant it revival. It needed a God. A deity of order. Someone, to make the Spawn live up to its name.
They called it The Seeding.
It began with the softest hums of mothers and widows clutching stillborns, pressing them into the wet soil as if they were offerings, fingers shaking, heads bowed. They kissed cold foreheads and whispered lullabies that rippled the air like old hymns underwater. This was just the start of the birth.
Then came the priests—wild-eyed, blood-slicked, having stitched their mouths shut with sinew soaked in bone sap, so that their prayers would speak not from the tongue but from the gut. They moved in circles, slowly, their feet tracing that ancient symbol into the blood-packed dirt: a looping spiral, the mark of endless undoing, the Respawn.
They dragged their feet over and over in sacred choreography, shaping the sigil again and again. Not just a mark—but a heartbeat. A cycle. A truth. Each spiral drawn was a message to the Spawn.
Then came the cults. Hundreds, thousands. Crawling from tunnels, pouring in to gather alongside the others. They arrived in states of awe and psychosis at what was bound to happen.
They formed living circles around the marrow pool, linking arms, chanting the spiral pattern into sound.
They repeated it, hundreds of voices flattening into rhythm, until the symbol—the Respawn—glowed. Not carved, not etched, but etched into reality itself, like a scar in the world’s skin.
Then silence.
Then rupture.
The marrow pool began to light up with white—not with heat, but with resurrection. The sigil pulsed beneath it, throbbing like a heart cut out but still beating. The spiral turned inward. The light grew dim, then blinding. And from that spiral’s eye, she clawed into the world.
She was born exactly at the center of the Respawn.
Not beside it. Not over it.
From it.
She emerged in a crawl—her limbs soft, steaming, lacquered with blood and embryonic gold. Her spine unfurled in perfect curve, mimicking the sacred shape beneath her. Her first breath wasn’t air—but sound: the leftover chant of hundreds burning into her lungs. And when her eyes opened—white, with no iris—the Respawn symbol flashed in both before fading back into her soul.
The earth cracked. The sigil burned into permanence. And behind the screaming crowd full of believers, the Spawn Himself stirred. He turned toward the mark—toward her. The pattern he had once followed, now personified.
His Daughter.
The Spawn, made flesh.
She was born.
𓏲𝄢
Notes:
well that concludes the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous
Chapter 2: 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆.
Notes:
TW: Mentions of scars.
Chapter Text
It had been years since your birth from the Spawn. Years of slow unraveling. Years of confusion… and reluctant acceptance.
You had long since ceased asking why these people fell to their knees at the mere sound of your name. Why they offered pieces of themselves—bone, flesh, sanity—just to be seen by you. It was worship, yes… but more than that, it was obsession wrapped in reverence.
By now, you knew them like family.
A strange family.
Each day, they flocked to your shrine like maggots to rot, bearing sacrifices in trembling hands. All in the name of your “blessing.” A blessing they believed could bend mortality itself—return life to the lifeless, trade death for breath.
You had granted second lives. You had watched them rise from the grave, skin pallid, eyes distant, their minds already crumbling. You sat upon your throne of bone and watched them spiral again and again. They called it salvation.
You weren’t so sure.
Some gave blood—measured offerings, precisely 51 ounces, drawn slow and sacred into silver chalices. Others were more… enthusiastic. Murderers, desperate and trembling, whispered names they had taken in your honor. They called it holy. You called it routine.
It was all… gnarly, in its way. But not surprising.
And not your deepest concern.
Because sometimes, when you closed your eyes and leaned back in that god-carved seat, a thought would crawl into your mind like mold across clean stone:
What if this is all a joke?
What if the act of “respawning” is nothing more than a loop—one designed to see how far they’ll fall, how broken they’ll become in the name of a god who never asked to be one?
But you never voiced this. Never questioned it aloud.
You would never confront Him.
The Spawn—your “father”—loved you too deeply for that. Possessively. Intensely. You were His blood. His beloved. His cycle. His creation. His perfect mistake.
And so, you wore the mask. You played the part. The Perfect Daughter.
At least… for now.
𓏲𝄢
It was nearing midnight. The air in the temple was thick with incense and dried blood, the scent curling through your nose like memory. This was the Sanctum of Rebirth, where all worthy offerings were received, judged, and occasionally blessed with a second life.
You sat at the head of the temple, high above the altar, where the spiral of the Respawn symbol had been carved deep into obsidian and bone. You were still. Regal. Distant. Hands folded neatly in your lap, posture impeccable.
You had long since stopped fidgeting. Goddesses did not shift in their seats.
Tonight had been long. The same desperate screams. The same weeping promises. The same rituals.
You only had one visitor left before you could retreat to silence, to stillness, to yourself .
When the great temple doors creaked open, your head lifted with mechanical grace. A lone figure stood silhouetted in the threshold. You waited, silent, allowing the moment to bloom thick with pressure.
Then, loud—demandingly—you offered your command:
“Come forth.”
The shadow obeyed.
They stepped into the flickering candlelight, and you saw it instantly.
You always saw it.
That look.
The devotion. The derangement.
Their eyes held mania, wild and unfocused. Their smile was tight, stretched thin as wet paper. They walked with the strange grace of the broken—like every step was a confession.
As they dropped to their knees before you, you studied them in silence. You drank in their condition like fine wine—chapped lips, shaking hands, dried blood beneath the fingernails. Scars laced across their arms and neck and shoulders like scripture, self-written and crude.
You said nothing. You didn’t have to.
They looked up at you, trembling—not in fear, but in awe.
You held their gaze.
And silently, beneath your poised exterior, you smiled.
Because this was your kingdom.
This was your altar.
And they were exactly what you expected.
Insane. Unstable. Selfless. The “perfect” worshiper. That’s what everyone wants to be. That’s what everyone wishes to be in your eyes.
You tilted your head. The air between you thickened tension and incense clinging to skin like oil. The flickering light from the temple’s hundred candles danced across the scarred tiles, casting long shadows behind the Respawn spiral carved at your feet. It glowed faintly beneath you, as always. Watching. Listening.
You lowered your gaze. Gently reaching out to cup their cold face in your palms. “What have you brought for me?” you asked softly, your voice like silk stretched over a blade.
At that, they exhaled. A shudder. Then, slowly, they reached inside their pocket.
From beneath layers of filthy cloth and dried blood, they pulled a cloth-wrapped object—crimson-stained scarf, soaked through, leaking at the bottom. They held it out to you, the fabric cradled in both hands like something holy. They did not speak yet.
You let them take their time.
Desperation always needed ceremony.
At last, they opened their mouth to speak, eyes wide and glassy, tears brimming, a feverish smile breaking across their face like a cracked mask. Their voice shook as they began:
“I…I took the life of my partner,”
You stayed silent, waiting for them to continue.
“Azure. He was my most devoted friend of mine. But you, my goddess—you’re the spiral to my soul! The pulse to my second life! For I never would wish for another!” Their voice cracked with raw desperation.
You stared into their eyes, drinking in that sweet frantic silence that poured from them. You removed your hands from their face and slowly took the soaking scarf from their hands, setting it down on your lap.
“This was his,” you murmured, half statement, half confirmation.
The worshipper nodded frantically. “He wore it everyday, but now, it’s all yours.” He said with a chuckle creeping from his throat.
You stared at the scarf for a long moment. There were still traces of him in it—his scent and his trust. You could feel how deeply he had once believed in the person kneeling before you. That love had been genuine.
And it had been sacrificed.
The Respawn symbol beneath you flared, just faintly, as if sighing in approval.
Your eyes drifted back to the kneeling worshiper. “A friend,” you started. “Not a stranger. Not a beggar. But a friend you cherished. And yet, you threw it all away for me. Is that correct?” Your thumb brushed around the edges of the scarf, feeling the hardened blood underneath your thumb.
They nodded, “Yes, for you. Always for you, my goddess.”
You picked the scarf up from your lap, setting it on the armrest of your chair. You turned back to face them and you gestured for them to come close to lay their head on your lap.
And that’s what they did.
They rested their head gently in the center of your lap, their cheek nestled against the soft fabric of your dress, right above your knees. Their body curved slightly at the waist, knees bent and legs pressed firmly together in a posture that was both controlled and vulnerable.
Their hands lay delicately atop her knees, palms down, fingers relaxed but unmoving, as though your touch alone kept them tethered to the moment. Their eyes were half-lidded, lashes casting faint shadows across their cheeks. Each breath they took stirred the fabric beneath them.
You hands moved slowly, reverently—threaded gently through their hair, smoothing it back from their face. You looked down at them, “You were loved by him—but now, you’re bound to me.” You whispered softly.
They were quiet, only soft breaths of air that left their lips were the only sound. Then, they spoke up. “Do I…Do I deserve your blessing, my goddess? Was I enough?” They asked, hands clutching onto the cloth of your dress.
…
…
…
…
With a breathily sigh, “Yes. Yes you do.” You said. “You may rise again. But remember this second life is not just a continuation. It’s a rebirth.” You explained with firmness. You could hear their shaky breathing. You saw the shaking of their body. “For you aren’t yourself anymore. You belong to me.”
The spiral beneath your feet flared bright, white, alive and ancient.
You spoke the words. The same sacred phrase you always offered at the moment of rebirth:
“From rot, rise. From blood, bloom. The soul shall return but let it kneel. I grace thee with my blessing—my word.” You spoke with softness. You gently lifted their head from your lap, watching as the ecstasy was apparent on their face. Their eyes stared up at you with such gratefulness and devotion that it was almost impossible to keep contained. Your eyes gleamed with sweet mischief.
“Go,” You said, standing up from where you sat. “Be what I made of you.”
They bowed their head before hurriedly standing on their feet, hugging themselves as they sped out of the temple.
You remained still, eyes turning to the spiral. You watched as it goes with false belief, feeling the sense of despair run through your veins.
Those poor unfortunate souls who believed in so much but receive nothing.
𓏲𝄢
Chapter 3: 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍.
Notes:
TW: mentions of self h@rm!!
Chapter Text
A fellow priest had arrived at your shrine, hood low over their eyes, robes heavy with marrowstains. They knelt, lips stitched closed as tradition required, and held up a carved bone tablet etched with a single message:
“Your father wishes to speak with you.”
You read it twice.
Your expression remained unreadable, serene as ever, but inwardly, your thoughts stirred like silt at the bottom of a forgotten well. What could he possibly want?
Surely, it wasn’t anything bad . At least… you hoped not.
Without a word, you rose from your throne and began your descent from your temple—through the breathing halls, past blood-streaked murals that told your own creation like prophecy. The spiral glowed softly beneath your bare feet with every step, as though whispering its approval. Or warning.
Your mind wandered restlessly.
What did he want now? It wasn’t as if you hated your father. Not at all. You held no hatred for the one who had summoned you into existence, not really. But the relationship between you and your father had always been… strange. Cold in places. Uneven .
After all, you were born from a ritual in a cult, for the Spawn’s sake.
You were his daughter, yes—but also his instrument. His prize. His experiment. You were something between sacred and strategic. There had been conversations between you before, short, small things laced with symbolism but never anything truly open . Never anything that felt like… family.
He was ancient. Unknowable. Larger than concept.
And you?
You were the echo of his will.
The spiral turned beneath you as you passed into the deeper levels of the sanctuary—the place where his temple lay sunken, far beneath the mortal shrines. It was darker here. Colder. The walls sweat marrow. Every sound was muffled, swallowed by the womb of stone.
Still, the words others used to describe him floated through your thoughts like incense smoke.
People spoke of your father with reverence, with fear and awe twisted together like rope. But then again, they spoke the same of you. That was one thing you and Spawn shared, at least.
You stepped into your father’s temple. The stone door dragged shut behind you with a deep groan, sealing out the world above. The air inside was thick and warm, humid with breath and the scent of old blood soaked into the walls. Everything here felt still—but not dead. Alive in a way the world wasn’t.
“Father?” You called.
Your voice echoed back at you, lingering too long in the air. You stood tall, hands folded neatly, and waited.
You didn’t have to wait long.
“You came,” said a voice from everywhere and nowhere at once.
It crawled out of the stone. It pulsed beneath your feet. It was your father’s voice, and it always felt like something inside you straightened when you heard it—like your bones remembered who made them.
“You sent for me,” you answered calmly.
“I did.” There was a low hum beneath his words, like a chorus buried deep underground. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.”
You kept your tone steady. “You don’t usually summon me unless it’s important.”
Silence stretched for a moment, heavy with thought.
“There’s someone I want to speak to you about.”
You didn’t react outwardly, but your mind narrowed in on the possibilities. Another follower? A heretic? A threat?
“Someone… dangerous?” you asked.
“Not in the way you think.” His voice lowered. “They were once a loyal soul. Shattered, yes, but devoted. One of mine—and now one of yours , it seems.”
Your heart slowed just slightly. You didn’t say the name. You waited for him to.
“The one who offered you with the scarf. Their name is Two Time.” Spawn said.
“Two…Time?” The name rolled off your tongue finely. You thought that was ironic considering you gifting them a second life. Your expression didn’t change, but your thoughts scattered like ashes in the wind. “What about them?”
“It’s been months,” he continued. “We haven’t seen them. Not in the shrine. Not in the spiral’s presence. The other believers have started to ask questions. Even the tamed ones whisper that your favorite has gone rogue.” He said with a dark chuckle towards the end of his sentence.
You frowned at the sound of that. “They aren’t my favorite,” you said coldly. Now you see why you hardly ever speak to your father.
A long pause.
“They meant nothing to me,” you added.
Spawn’s laugh was soft. Dry. “Of course not. You don’t love , little spiral. You collect. You study. You bless and forget. But this one… they were different, weren’t they? They lingered .“
“They were obedient,” you said simply.
“And yet,” he mused, “you haven’t sent anyone to find them.”
You stiffened slightly. Why does it matter if they were lost or not? And why does he, out of all people, seem to care so much that one of his little followers is lost? “You think I should?”
“They were marked by the spiral. Touched by death, reborn by you.” His voice grew firmer. “You don’t just let something like that disappear . If they’ve left the shrine, it wasn’t without reason.” Your father stared at you with those blazing white eyes of his as if he was trying to look into your soul. “As part of the family religion, you must make sure your fellow followers are still in your grasp.”
“Your followers.” You corrected curtly.
Silence reached the both of you. You stared forward, eyes unfocused. The both of you didn’t care to speak for a moment to one another.
A sigh left your lips, closing your eyes with annoyance. “What would you have me do?”
“Go find them.”
That landed harder than you expected. He rarely gave direct orders. But this one came with gravity—final and firm.
“Why me?”
“Because they listened to you,” he said. “They gave everything to you. If anyone can call them back— reel them in —it’s you.”
You were quiet for a moment. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was beyond—ridiculous. “I don’t understand, Father. Why can’t you go and search for them? You seem to be far more worried about them than I.” You questioned.
“Don’t you see how they are downright yearning for you, Y/n? They’ve been like that ever since they saw you for the first time. It would only make sense for you to do the honors. Besides, I think it’ll do you some good.” He explained with a smile that held condescension.
“As if that’s not everyone here.” Your tone was flat with zero persuasion. “But fine, I’ll go look for them.” You obliged, crossing your arms across your chest. “…For the cult. For the family.” The words felt like poison in your mouth. You fought the urge to shudder.
Your father let out a small, rough laugh leave from his throat. “That’s my girl. Get along now.”
And with that, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the temple. You felt frustration rise to your face. Why do you always get wrapped up in things? Good Spawn, why did it have to be you?
There wasn’t much you could do now. You already told your father that you would follow his command and go see wherever this Two Time person was at. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a long journey…
𓏲𝄢
Two Time didn’t know what they got themselves into.
At first, it felt like hope—the promise of something more, something beyond . A second chance. A life reborn, not plagued by weakness or loss. That’s what they thought they were earning when they stood before her shrine, knees aching, hands stained with the blood of their best friend.
Azure.
His name still tasted warm in their mouth, even now. Still clung to their teeth like a lie. He had always been there— solid, kind, steady —and now he was gone. By Two Time’s hand.
Two Time remembers it clear as the night sky. The dagger they always carried around in their pocket was used as a weapon against Azure who didn’t see it coming. Two Time crept up behind Azure, the dagger raised high. Their mind wasn’t able to comprehend not a damn thing before they brought the dagger down; right in the center of Azure’s back. Two Time remembers the look on Azure’s face, staring up at them with such shock—betrayal. And all Two Time could do was smile down at him as they watched blood come up from Azure’s mouth before he fell victim to the dagger.
The blood was a pretty crimson red. It soaked into the scarf of Azure’s that was wrapped around his neck. It sparked an idea within Two Time. It would be the perfect offering to give to the goddess back at her temple—and have the chance to be gifted a second life. Without thinking, they snatched it right off Azure’s lifeless body.
It would be considered a downright lie if they say that they didn’t feel guilty—believe me, they did. But do they now? Not at all. They swear it. They swear that they don’t feel bad for not one thing that happened to Azure that night.
To ease the pain of committing such an act against their partner would be considered shameful. Oh, how they craves that feeling of the blade leaving mark after mark against their pale skin. It felt reliving—relaxing. They make up a lot of reasons for their actions;
They don’t feel bad for killing off Azure. They did it for her, their goddess.
They don’t feel disgusted with themselves for finding unhealthy ways to cope. It’s not bad at all! They only do it to bleed for her, their goddess.
They do everything for their goddess. Everything. Anything. No matter what.
When they arrived to the goddess’s temple, their knees nearly buckled over at the sight of her. She was beautiful, stunning, alluring. Two Time felt the excitement bubble up inside of themselves. They have been blessed by the Spawn himself to be able to stand in the presence of a goddess like her.
They had to force themself to keep an appropriate facade. It was all so overwhelming as she went through the process of making the decision of if Two Time was worthy enough to receive her blessing. They still remembers her touch, it lingering on their cold skin. Even after all those months—it felt like it was just yesterday.
It would be considered a downright lie if they say that they didn’t feel guilty—believe me, they did. But do they now? Not at all. They swear it. They swear that they don’t feel bad for not one thing that happened to Azure that night.
To ease the pain of committing such an act against their partner would be considered shameful. Oh, how they craves that feeling of the blade leaving mark after mark against their pale skin. It felt reliving—relaxing. They make up a lot of reasons for their actions;
They don’t feel bad for killing off Azure. They did it for her, their goddess.
They don’t feel disgusted with themselves for finding unhealthy ways to cope. It’s not bad at all! They only do it to bleed for her, their goddess.
They do everything for their goddess.
Everything.
Anything.
No matter what.
And now, they were here.
Trapped.
Somewhere between life and death, in a game that never ended. Forced to fight other survivors. Some trembling, some bloodthirsty. Over and over again. Kill or be killed. Reset. Repeat. The spiral marked them, and it would never let go. In this world, there was only two sides. Survivors and Killers. Nothing else. They weren’t upset that they were dragged into this mess.
They were upset that they are so depressingly far from their goddess. Ir was a terrible feeling that erupted inside of them. They couldn’t rid themselves of that feeling.
But a part of them knows that their goddess is watching. She always watches. She watches over all of her believers—and Two Time is the primary focus of her eye.
Just a few months ago, Two Time had finally got their blessing. A second life. It filled them with such joy. Their goddess’s presence was close! She had to be close considering that they got their blessing so suddenly! She knew that they were in trouble so she lend them a hand! And now, she watches over them from the sky and carries them through all of the darkness in this place. Oh, how loving she is.
Two Time wishes that they could face her again. Be in her presence again.
But they could feel it. It wouldn’t be long until they finally saw her again.
They just have to be patient.
𓏲𝄢
Chapter Text
The survivors were all huddled up in the cabin together after another round of pure hell. Two Time liked to call the cabin a “Bungalow” considering it was the size of a two story house. It was pretty cozy and they were glad to have a decent place after all of these repetitive games. The bungalow also had rooms for each survivor which was also pretty neat.
The other survivors didn’t seem to be fond of Two Time considering their…ways. They felt uncomfortable around them and would hardly speak to them. Their talk about the Spawn and this goddess was off putting for most of the people there in the bungalows. Only a few selected people would start up small conversations like Elliot, Shedletsky, and sometimes 007n7. But even those didn’t last long.
Two Time didn’t care about what people thought of them. Simply cause their opinions don’t matter to them. Sure, it’s nice to have some allies in this never ending situation but why have allies when you have Gods to watch over you?
Especially when you’ve proved yourself to be the most devoted follower.
Two Time was confident that they were the goddess’s most devoted follower for many reasons—too many reasons that nobody wanted to sit through and listen to. They could feel her spirit against their skin, hear her hushed voice in their ears like it was a lullaby, and feel her carry them on the path to devotion.
Due to these circumstances, Two Time wanted to be able to leave gifts for her in hopes that she’d make her appearance. They’ve been waiting for her since—forever! They lost track but oh well. Who knew that gods such as she could be so shy?
Builderman, oh, what a kind soul he truly is! Two Time wouldn’t leave him alone about having him put together a bungalow for her. Builderman couldn’t turn down the cultist’s request so he agreed reluctantly with a, “Ain’t doin’ this for fun—I’m doin it to shut that damn mouth o’ yours.”
Two Time lead him to the perfect spot somewhere deep into the forest where surely nothing will come and ruin it. It was by a crystal clear lake—so clear that you can see all of the perfections and imperfections on your face. Two Time watches excitedly while Builderman got to work. It took sometime to get the bungalow altogether but once it was finished, Two Time was so happy. “May the Spawn goddess grace you for your generosity” Is what Two Time said as an appreciated comment to which Builderman huffed at the sound of that.
On the daily, Two time would go and check up on the bungalow to see if the goddess had made herself at home. He hasn’t been met with the results he wanted but he knew better than to rush her. She needed some time!
But oh how he is eager to see her once more.
𓏲𝄢
You found yourself deep inside an unfamiliar forest.
The further you walked, the more the world around you grew still—eerily quiet, like the trees were holding their breath. No birdsong. No rustling. Just the occasional crunch of leaves beneath your shoes and the soft whisper of wind winding through the tall branches above.
You hadn’t intended to come this far. You made up a plan on your journey that you’d just head back to the temple and lie that you weren’t able to track Two Time down. But the spiral pulled you here. Not in an obvious way. There were no visions. No signs. Just that gut-deep sense that something was waiting—watching. You followed it like a thread, weaving through thick underbrush and shadowed roots, until the treeline broke suddenly into light.
A cabin stood nearby a lake. It looked brand new, as if someone had built it there for a purpose. Your eyes wandered around its surroundings, scouting out for any signs that this was a trap of some sort. When you didn’t find anything that gave way, you trailed over to the cabin. You pushed open the window door to see that it was surprisingly decorated from head to toe with basic furniture. A bed, a small dining table with two chairs for whatever reason, a small kitchen, and a nice sofa with a tv… You found it to be weird that a cabin this nicely built would just be sitting here. You figured that maybe two people lived here since that was the only indication you could think of.
You shut the door behind you with a quiet click and turned your attention toward the lake, its surface glinting beneath the soft light like a sheet of blown glass. Drawn by something you couldn’t name, you walked toward it in silence, each step muffled by the mossy earth. Kneeling at the water’s edge, you leaned in close, watching your reflection shimmer back at you, blurred slightly by the slow, rhythmic pulse of the ripples. It looked fragile up close, almost too perfect to be real. Slowly, you reached forward and dipped your hand into the cool, crystal-clear water, feeling it slip like silk between your fingers.
The water was startlingly cold—so crisp it sent a jolt up your arm the moment your fingers broke the surface. It wasn’t the kind of cold that bit or stung, but one that cleared, like the first breath of winter air after a storm. It slid around your skin with a silk-like smoothness, impossibly clean, as though untouched by dirt or time. There was a weightlessness to it, a softness beneath the chill that made it feel almost sacred, as if the lake itself was holding its breath around you. The sensation lingered even after you pulled your hand away—like the water didn’t want to let go.
Then, without warning, something shifted. A strange, crawling sensation crept up your spine, prickling your skin like the air had thickened around you. Your brows knit, and you slowly turned, heart rising into your throat. And there they were—standing just a few feet away, silent, frozen. Two Time. The very person you’d been searching for… eye to eye at last.
Two Time didn’t move.
The moment their eyes locked with hers, something inside them went completely still—like their breath had caught and forgotten how to let go. They stood at the edge of the clearing, half-shadowed by trees, unable to blink, unable to breathe. Her presence hit them like a collapse: quiet, holy, and suffocating. The cool air felt hot in their lungs. Their arms hung limply at their sides, fingers twitching once, then going dead still. For a few seconds, their face was unreadable, blank, stunned, until something broke. Slowly, almost unnaturally, a grin began to spread across their face, pulling tight at the corners, lips trembling into place like they had to force themselves to remember how to smile. Their eyes stayed wide, wavering, too bright to be calm. The sight of her was breathtaking.
You didn’t say a word.
You simply rose from your spot beside the lake, slow and deliberate, water dripping from your fingers as the reflection scattered beneath you. Your expression didn’t falter—not at the sight of their face, not at the warped grin splitting their mouth, not at the way their wide, shimmering eyes drank you in like you were a vision clawed out of a dream. You stood tall, composed, as if you’d known this moment was inevitable.
The sight of you was almost unreal. The pale glow of the lake caught the edges of your figure and set you alight in blue, casting ripples of light across your robes, your face, your eyes. You didn’t move. You didn’t need to.
“Y… You came!” they gasped, their voice cracking open with raw awe. “You—You truly came, my goddess…”
Two Time stepped closer, the brittle leaves beneath their feet barely making a sound. Their grin had only grown wider, stretched now into something too big, too bright, too wrong. Eyes still locked onto you—like if they looked away, you might dissolve into mist—they laughed under their breath. It was short. Sharp. Nearly choked on joy.
“It worked ,” they whispered. “It actually worked. You heard me. All the prayers, the blood, the silence—it wasn’t for nothing. You came. You came !”
Their hands fluttered up to their chest, clutching at their shirt like they could feel your presence vibrating inside their ribs.
“I built this place for you,” they said breathlessly, gesturing back to the crooked bungalow behind them. “It’s yours. I found the perfect spot, didn’t I? By the lake… where it’s quiet. Where no one would interrupt you. I thought you might like the view, and the water’s so clear here, so still—like it’s waiting just for you!”
You still didn’t speak.
Didn’t nod. Didn’t blink.
You just stared, unmoving, unreadable as the moonlight danced along the water behind you. And yet, the way your silence filled the space—it was deafening. Final.
Two Time didn’t notice.
Or maybe they did, but refused to.
“I—I thought maybe you’d come sooner,” they continued, stumbling over the words with a nervous giggle. “But then I thought: no, you’re waiting. Testing me. Seeing if I’d last. If I’d stay faithful. And I did . I stayed, I waited, I prayed .”
They looked back at the lake, then returned their gaze to you, face split with hope and something far more twisted underneath.
“I knew you’d find me. I just—I knew .”
And that’s when you saw it.
Not devotion.
Not worship.
Not love.
Delusion.
Something in their eyes was fractured—off-center in a way that couldn’t be undone. All this time, while the world spun madly, they had been building this place, this altar of wood and silence and obsession. Waiting for you not as a god… but as a fixation .
Still, you said nothing.
You just looked at them—looked through them—as they stood in front of you with hands trembling and heart laid bare like an offering.
Somewhere behind their eyes, madness flickered like candlelight.
𓏲𝄢
Notes:
Idk why it made the End Notes seem like this chapter was the first chapter💔
Chapter 5: 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇.
Notes:
TW: Manipulative Behavior
Chapter Text
Two Time’s voice echoed faintly inside the cabin, just loud enough to fill the room, just soft enough to seem like they weren’t talking to themself. The wood creaked under their feet as they moved around the small, hand-built kitchen, pulling down chipped mugs and rattling through an assortment of half-clean spoons. A kettle hissed gently on the old stovetop.
“I’ve been here for several months! I’m surprised I kept track that long… a soldier here stopped counting after 3.” They said. Their voice sounded a little bit too content despite how long they’ve been stuck here. “This entire thing is like a loop, if you ask me!” He laughed.
You sat in the corner of the room, the armchair beneath you old but clean, padded with handmade cushions that matched the curtains, an effort clearly made to make the space look nice for you. One leg crossed neatly over the other, your hands folded in your lap. You said nothing.
“Every day, it’s the same darn thing. The game starts, and suddenly I’m running. Fighting. Bleeding. And I know it doesn’t matter because if I die, I’ll just end up back at the bungalows again like it never happened.” They let out a bitter laugh. “But it does happen. I remember it all. Every death—everything.” They explained.
The kettle started to scream.
Two Time moved quickly, removing it from the burner, the steam curling around their scarred fingers as they poured the hot water into one mug. They moved carefully, eyes glancing toward you every few seconds, like checking that you hadn’t disappeared.
You hummed in acknowledgement at what you heard. To say the least, it sounded like hell. It was similar back at the temple. Both equally held that title in your opinion.
Two Time stirred the honey in your tea, making sure that it wasn’t too sweet or bitter before nodding in approval. They walked over to you with the mug, a smile on their face as they set it down. “I figured you’d like some tea, my Goddess! The journey here must’ve been a hassle.”
“It was,” You droned. You took a small sip of the hot beverage. It was comforting for you. It made the coldness of your body warm up after the first sip. “say Two Time,” you spoke up again. They straightened up at the sound of their name leaving your lips. “…why did you build me this…’bungalow’?” You questioned. Two Time’s mouth opened, shut, then opened again. They had already told you, of course. Back by the lake, in the first flood of reunion. But your tone now measured, pulled something different from them. Not the initial rush of infatuation. Not the joy.
The confession.
“Because,” They started. “I-I wanted you to stay!” Two Tome admitted. You raised your brows at that. It was quiet for a second before Two Time spoke up again. “I thought…if I made it right, if I found the perfect place, made it safe, clean…pretty even! You’d see how much I truly meant it! That I wasn’t like the others. I didn’t want to just be blessed. I wanted to serve. I wanted to be…yours.” They were trembling now, voice quieter, like they were almost ashamed to admit it aloud. But they weren’t. They were proud to admit it facing you. There was no shame in this game of theirs.
You leaned back slightly in your chair, letting the tea warm your palms. Your face remained unreadable. No smile, no frown. Just watching.
Two Time stared up at you, waiting for some kind of reaction.
A word. A smile. A gesture.
Anything.
But you only gave a small hum. Low. Almost curious.
And that silence…it was so full, so calm that it made them feel eager to hear what you had to say. “I did this for you,” they said, desperate now. “ Only you. ”
You set the tea down.
The sound was gentle. Careful. But then…
You laughed.
Not softly. Not sweetly. A loud, unrestrained laugh that echoed through the wooden walls like it didn’t belong in this world.
It was sharp. Mocking. Cruel in its clarity.
Two Time flinched. They blinked, startled, that trembling smile still hanging on their face—but it twisted now, confused at the edges. Unsure.
“I—I don’t understand,” they stammered, eyes searching your face like a dog unsure whether it’s being praised or punished. “Did… Did I say something wrong, my Goddess?”
You leaned forward slightly, tilting your head as your smile lingered—not kind, but amused.
“All this,” you said, gesturing lazily to the cabin. “The decorations, the cabin, the lakefront view… you really thought this would win me?”
They froze. Their hands curled slightly
towards their sides. “I just wanted to show you how much I care,” they said quietly. “I thought maybe… maybe if I made it perfect, you’d stay…”
Another small laugh left you. Not loud this time. Just sharp enough to sting.
“Oh, sweetheart,” you purred. “You really thought I came all this way for this shack ? You think I care about chipped tea cups and homemade curtains?”
Their eyes flicked downward, shoulders shrinking.
“I built this for you…” they whispered.
“You built this for yourself ,” you replied flatly. “You wanted to play house with your goddess and pretend that all your blood and desperation bought you something more than a moment’s attention.”
Two Time swallowed hard, face falling inch by inch.
You stood slowly, letting your presence rise again in the room like a tide. You didn’t need to raise your voice. You were the voice.
“I gave you a second life,” you said. “And this is what you did with it? Tea parties and lakeside picnics?”
They opened their mouth to respond, something weak, something cracking, but you didn’t let them.
“You don’t want to serve me. You want to own me. And that,” you said, voice like velvet-wrapped steel, “is not devotion. That’s delusion.” You corrected with a smile. “Also, don’t you think that it is a bit selfish of you to do such? Wanting to own I, the belief, the Spawn’s daughter to say the least. All the others would slit your throat for pulling such an act.”
Two Time looked like they’d been struck. The breath left their lungs all at once, wide-eyed, mouth barely open as if trying to form words that no longer existed.
Still, they stared up at you like you hung the moon.
Even now.
Even then.
And you looked down at them like they were nothing more than a mockery.
The silence hung like a blade.
Two Time didn’t move at first. Just stood there, hands limp, face pale with shock. They blinked once, twice, like the words you’d thrown had cracked something wide open inside their skull. Their lips trembled, but for a moment, nothing came out.
“…I—I’m so sorry, my Goddess.” They choked out, the water rushing to their eyes as they looked at their feet. Their body was trembling. Their hands found their way to the end of their shirt, clutching onto it. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to be selfish! I swear! I wasn’t thinking about myself, not really—only you, always you! I thought this would make you happy, I thought—”
You didn’t move. You just stood there, still as a statue, a slow smirk curving your lips while their voice dissolved into frantic breath and tumbling apologies. “I never meant to disrespect your father—I didn’t even speak his name! I dare not speak his name in such a manner… and if it had ever passed my lips, I’d rip the word from my throat myself! I wouldn’t dare—please, I didn’t forget the other cult members, I just thought— I thought if I made this place beautiful enough, you might stay, and maybe they’d come too, and—”
Their words were a jumbled mess now, tears brimming in their wild, glassy eyes. Not the kind that fell gracefully—just the kind that blurred everything and made them blink too much.
With slow, glided steps, you walked over to the distressed cultist who was now pulling on their hair in such stress. You forcefully reached out and grabbed ahold of their chin, making them look up at you. You leaned in close, your smile razor-sharp, eyes gleaming with something between pity and amusement. “I won’t tell anyone,” you whispered, tone smooth as silk. “Not my father. Not the others at the temple. No one will know what you’ve done.”
Two Time’s lips parted, quivering with confusion.
“Because,” you continued, your thumb brushing along their jaw like you were polishing something fragile and pitiful, “you’re my favorite.” You ran your fingers through their hair in such a gentle manner that it would almost fool anybody that you weren’t some manipulative deity.
You weren’t. You simply held order.
Their eyes widened, shimmering with frantic, fragile hope.
“And as long as you remember that,” you said sweetly, tilting their head just slightly more in your grip,
“I’ll keep your little secrets safe.”
𓏲𝄢
Chapter Text
The round had officially ended. The survivors were tired out of their mind once they got spawned into the lobby.
“That was rough…” Elliot sighed. He looked over all the others and felt a tinge of sadness deep down. All of them were so exhausted. He saw this more than once but he still couldn’t help himself to feel bad. “I have leftover pizza if anyone wants it…” He added, setting the pizza box on the table before heading somewhere else inside the lobby.
This left the other survivors present in the lobby. It was a long stretch of silence between all of them because what was there to say? Only one person broke the ice and that was Chance. “Well, that was…challenging.” He simply said. He was leaned back against the couch, arms draped over the top like he hadn’t just spent the last hour running for his life. “Ten outta ten on the scare factor, though. I’ll give it that.” He let out a laugh but it died off when he realized that nobody else was laughing along with him.
“Chance. Shut yer damn mouth, would ya?” Builderman grunted, his Southern drawl thick and dry like dust on gravel.
Shedletsky turned to face Builderman. “Awh, come on Builder! Lighten up a little bit. Sure, the round was bad—“
“A whole damn load o’ shit.” Builderman gruffly corrected.
“—but we aren’t actually dead, at least! So turn that frown upside down.” Shedletsky finished with a cheeky smile. “See, look at 007n7! He’s still smiling!” Shedletsky pointed towards 007n7 who was sitting on the couch by Chance, looking up when he heard his name and giving a small smile. Builderman stared through tired eyes, letting out a long sigh. “Reckon I’m headin’ off to bed…” He said, taking off his hat before heading down the hall. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw no one other than Two Time opening the door to the lobby. “And just where d’you think you’re goin’ at this hour?” Builderman called out.
Two Time stopped in their tracks at the entrance of the door, slowly turning their head to face Builderman. “…To the bungalow.” They said. Everyone in the room’s eyes were fixated on Two Time. They weren’t a stranger to Two Time’s strange ways.
“Why?” Builderman questioned. “You got roughed up out there in that round—reckon you oughta settle on down for the night.” He squinted his eyes at Two Time. Why would they want to go to that gosh darn cabin? It ain’t like the so called Goddess was there anyway. He built that useless cabin weeks ago and nothing has happened. “…And you need to take them pills. The ones for that mind o’ yours. It’s… well, it’s real special , ain’t it?” He murmured.
Two Time stood there, staring at the male with a flat expression. They didn’t appreciate how Builderman was talking about the Goddess like that. Even if he didn’t say anything directly it was obvious that he didn’t believe that she was real. Instead, he blamed it on their mind. There wasn’t nothing wrong with their mind at all, nothing. They weren’t crazy in the head. They thought that they were quite right if anything.
“Don’t say that.” They stated bluntly. their tone was cold as ice. “Don’t you ever say anything like that. The Goddess wouldn’t appreciate your words, Builderman. i suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.” With each word Two Time’s tone raised. They meant what they said, it was obvious. They didn’t say this because they weren’t thinking straight—they said it because they truly mean it. They are a believer, a follower, a worshipper. It’s their job to stand up for what they believe in. And what they believe in should not be taken as a joke.
The air was filled with tension. Heavy. Silent. Builderman had a hardened stare at Two Time who simply stared back. The others looked at the both of them uncomfortably. “Eheh… ooookay,” Chance laughed nervously. “I think we should all just relax! Maybe gamble a little? That usually helps me with stress…sometimes.”
“Gambling? Helping you with stress? Well ain’t that cute.”
The voice didn’t belong to anyone already in the room.
It was smoother than it should’ve been. Low and feminine, yet detached, almost like the speaker wasn’t truly part of the same plane. Cold, but teasing. Soft, but impossible to ignore.
Every head turned at once.
There, just beyond the threshold of the lobby, stood a figure none of them had seen in person before—but every single one of them recognized her. Draped in faint ceremonial fabric that shimmered ever so slightly under the flickering lights, her form stood still like a sculpture carved by something ancient and deliberate. The room itself seemed to pull in around her, as though the oxygen had shifted to make room for a higher presence.
Her eyes passed over them slowly, unreadable, unmoved by their expressions of disbelief, awe, or fear.
Builderman had taken one step back before he caught himself, jaw locked and brows furrowed, trying to stay grounded. His fingers twitched at his sides. “What in the hell?” He whispered with disbelief. All this time, she was real…?
Shedletsky blinked, eyes darting between Two Time and the woman now standing before them. “Holy crap,” he breathed, voice hushed and reverent. “She’s… she’s real ?”
Chance’s mouth fell open with disbelief, how was this possible? How long has she even been here? “No way. You—you gotta be kidding me.”
Guest 1337 had straightened up from his corner, eyes narrowing with sharp focus. His fists clenched slowly, not in fear—but in preparation. He didn’t trust miracles. Not like this. What if she was the one who caused this to happen? What if she was the one that trapped them all here?
007n7 was frozen. His hands had gone still in his lap, and his lips were slightly parted, his pupils locked dead on her form.
Two Time was the last to react. Their eyes widened, mouth agape slightly. They weren’t expecting her to appear here in the lobby… “Oh, m-my goddess! You’re here!” they exclaimed, hands clasps in front of them. m
They took a small step forward, still stunned, eyes glinting with childlike devotion. Their voice cracked with wonder, as if she’d just descended from the heavens. “Everyone—this is her. This is her ,” they said breathlessly, gesturing with both hands as if the others couldn’t already feel her presence settle like a pressure across their chests. “My goddess! The one I’ve been cherishing in my heart…”
Shedletsky’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “Wait, hold on. So, that’s really her?” he asked, blinking like he was trying to clear static from his vision. “You’re telling me you didn’t make all that cult stuff up?”
“I told you,” Two Time said, voice rising with excitement. “I told you she was real! And she’s here—she’s really here! For me! ” Their face lit up in joy and pride, like a child showing off a trophy.
“…No I am not.” Y/n snapped. “You’re the last thing I’m here for.”
The silence that followed was thick.
Guest 1337 stood a little straighter, arms crossed tight over his chest. His hardened gaze locked on Y/N, sharp and untrusting. “So… you’re the one behind all this.”
Two Time’s smile faltered. “What…?”
“The one who made this place,” Guest continued. “This game. The reason we’re stuck playing death matches on a loop, clawing our way through rounds like rats in a trap. You’re the goddess, right?” His voice was cold and accusatory. “Then you must be the one who started it all.”
The others were quiet, but their shifting glances spoke volumes. Chance looked uncomfortable, messing with his tie. 007n7 lowered his head slightly, clearly unsure. Shedletsky, now noticeably less animated, chewed at the inside of his cheek as his eyes drifted between Guest and Y/N.
Y/N, still poised and motionless, tilted her head just barely to the side. Her eyes moved toward Guest 1337, and though her expression remained unreadable, the air cooled ever so slightly.
She blinked slowly.
“I would think,” she began, her voice calm and flat, like an unused blade, “that if I had the power to craft this entire prison of blood and decay… I’d have better things to do with my time than throw you all into a game.” Her tone wasn’t harsh. Not raised. Just… pointed. And condescending. Like a teacher scolding a student who should have known better.
“I didn’t come here to entertain some conspiracy theory,” she added smoothly. “I c ame because I’m sick of staying in that ridiculous cabin. ” She admitted, rolling her eyes at the thought of being inside of there.
The tension in the room didn’t break—it only bent, creaking with pressure. Guest 1337 narrowed his eyes, jaw tight. Shedletsky rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 007n7 refused to meet anyone’s gaze.
Chance gave a stiff laugh. “Whew. Okay. Well. This just got real dramatic real quick.” He said. “…Want some pizza?”
“No. I can see that it’s cold all the way from here.”
Notes:
I’m so sorry for the late chapter!! I was so scared because this is the chapter where everyone gets to see Y/n so I was very worried on mischaracterizing anyone!!
Chapter Text
“Oh but please, my Goddess! Please consider!”
“No.”
“But, my Goddess, this’ll be beneficial to you! To The Spawn! To all the others!—“
Two Time has been in Y/n’s ear ever since they arrived at her doorstep, pleading, begging, being nothing but a pain. They wanted the other survivors to honor her just like how they’ve always done!
It’s been a couple of days since she made her appearance known to the other survivors. Two Time didn’t enjoy how it all went down though. They thought that since there was so much tension—it caused the other survivors to be on edge around her! And that simply would just not not do!
So, right after a good round of the game ended, they hurried out of the lobby and into the direction of her house. Even though it was pitch black outside as always, Two Time’s photographic memory came in handy. They knew the way to her home so well that they could find it with their eyes closed.
And now, this is what was happening. Here they were, begging her to reconsider this. “—You’ll be able to gain more followers!”
“Do I look like I want even more lunatics clinging to me? I’ve already got you doing a fine job of that.” She said with a shudder. She shook her head in disbelief with a scoff.
“But—But—wait, you came here to take me back to the temple, right? So why not take the others with you?” Two Time pleaded, voice cracking with desperation. Their hands were slightly raised as if that would soften the blow of their words.
She whipped her head toward them, disbelief flashing across her face like a crack of thunder. Were they out of their mind? More than they usually were?
“…How dare you even fix your lips to ask me such a question?” she snapped, each word sharp and deliberate. “I only came for one thing, and that is you. I just haven’t made any moves yet because I want to see how pathetic your little friends are.”
She stepped toward them, slowly, like a predator sizing up a weaker creature. Her expression curled into a scowl, the kind that dug under the skin.
“You think I came all this way to hand out salvation like candy? Do I look like someone who rescues lost souls for sport?” Her voice lowered, venomous and slow. “The only reason I’ve tolerated their presence is because I’m curious. Curious how much suffering it takes before they show their true colors. Besides, I say that the reason they’re here is for their sins. If you’re here, then there’s a chance.”
Two Time’s mouth parted, trying to speak, but nothing came out.
Her lips formed into a cunning smile as she stared Two Time down. Her eyes glimmering with something dangerous with some amusing effects. “I only take what belongs to me,” she said smoothly, her tone dipped in silk and steel. Then, she leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping into a velvety whisper, “And you , sweetheart… are mine.”
Two Time stared up at her with awe in their eyes. Her words touched them dearly and she could see that clear as day. Her smile widened—not with warmth, but with the thrill of power. “You really want me to play along with your little plan?” She murmured, mockery coating each word. “Begging looks beautiful on you, honey. So desperate, so needy, so adorable.” She cooed. She let the silence drag for just a beat longer, then sighed, feigning reluctant generosity. “…Fine,” She sighed. “let’s see if we can rekindle this encounter with your friends, shall we?”
𓏲𝄢
The lobby had returned to its usual uneasy stillness after the last round. Dim lighting buzzed above the survivors as they scattered across the room, each coping in their own way. 007n7 sat hunched on the couch, wringing his hands together as he whispered to the only person who hadn’t been there when it happened—Elliot.
“I’m telling you,” 007n7 muttered, voice quick and anxious. “She just appeared. Like nothing. One second we were talking, and then the next, she’s standing there.”
Elliot blinked, clearly behind. “Wait, who ? What are you talking about?”
007n7 looked around the room, as if making sure she wasn’t listening, then leaned closer. “The Goddess. The one Two Time’s always rambling about. She’s real, Elliot. Real. She was in the lobby.”
Elliot’s expression shifted into one of confusion, then cautious disbelief. “You’re serious?”
Before 007n7 could answer, the front doors to the lobby creaked open.
Two Time stepped inside first, their boots echoing against the tile as they held the door open behind them with reverent care. Their face was practically glowing, lips curled into a soft, excited smile—one that barely held itself together.
Then she walked in.
Y/n.
Poised. Still. Unfazed. She drifted into the space like smoke—slow, graceful, silent. She stood just behind Two Time, her presence like an iron weight dropped into the center of the room.
Elliot turned to the door and froze, eyebrows pulling together as he rose slowly to his feet. His heart jumped into his throat.
“Who…?” he started, breath catching. “Is that—?”
007n7 didn’t respond. He immediately turned his head away and shut his eyes tight, hands clutching at the edge of his seat.
Shedletsky, who had been chewing on a chicken leg, dropped it in front of him onto the floor.
Chance’s smirk faded to nothing, the arm he’d had lazily draped over the couch slipping off as he sat up, brow furrowed deeply.
Guest 1337 narrowed his eyes. His whole body went tense like a soldier preparing for something inevitable. He didn’t speak, but he never broke eye contact with her.
Builderman didn’t move at all. His eyes were hardened as he stared at the two.
No one said a word.
Y/n stood tall, eyes sweeping over each of them with quiet indifference. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak. Her presence alone did enough.
“She’s not here to hurt anyone,” Two Time finally said, breaking the silence with a hopeful tone, though their voice wavered slightly. “She just… she wanted to be here. To see all of you. That’s all.” They looked around, waiting for a response. None came.
Y/n shifted her eyes to 007n7, who still refused to look at her, then to Elliot, who was now fully standing, jaw tight “Comfortable, aren’t they?” she finally said, her tone rich with sarcasm. “I can feel the warmth already.” A laugh left her lips.
The room had sunk into a heavy silence, a kind that made the air feel thick and uncomfortable. Y/n stood like a phantom in the middle of the lobby. Her presence unsettling even without saying a word.
Two Time stepped forward, hands shaking slightly despite the smile twitching on their lips. They looked back at her for a brief second, then faced the others with a desperate sort of hope flickering in their eyes.“I know how this looks,” they began, voice wavering. “And I know most of you don’t trust me, let alone her , but please… just listen for a second.”
Chance raised a brow but didn’t say anything. Shedletsky leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, and 007n7 was still sitting on the couch, looking anywhere but at her.
“She’s here because I asked her to come,” Two Time said, stepping further into the center of the room. “I told her that you weren’t like the others. That maybe, if she just gave this place a chance, if she met you, you’d all see she’s not some threat.” They glanced toward Y/n again, eyes soft with admiration. She looked back at him, raising her brows for a second as a gesture for him to keep going. “I know she’s intimidating, I know that. But she’s not here to hurt anyone. I just… I wanted her to see you all, and I wanted you to see her.“
Guest 1337 finally moved, stepping forward from his place by the far wall. His expression was firm—more exhausted than angry, but still heavy with suspicion. “You brought her here,” he said, voice low but cold, “because you asked her to come? Like that’s supposed to mean something?”
Two Time blinked, caught off guard by the bitterness in his tone.
“You think that excuses anything?” Guest continued, stepping closer now. “You parade her into the lobby like she’s some kind of miracle—but for all we know, she’s the one pulling the strings. We wake up here. We die here. We run. We bleed. And now you tell us the so-called ‘Goddess’ you worship just walks through the front door?” Guest scoffed. “Let’s not forget that she’s from that cult of yours.”
“Guest, that’s not what this is—”
“No,” Guest snapped. “Nobody is going to play Friendship with you. Nobody is going to try to connect with her like how you do.l
Two Time held their hands up in a desperate plea. “She’s not like the others from the cult! Please. You don’t understand. She’s not a killer. She’s not playing the game. She’s… she’s something else.”
Y/n’s gaze slowly shifted toward Guest, but she still didn’t speak.
Shedletsky let out a nervous laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You’re really expecting us to just chill about this? You drop a literal deity into our safe zone!”
“She hasn’t done anything to you!” Two Time snapped, finally sounding frustrated. “She hasn’t hurt a single one of you. She’s not even armed. She’s just standing here! You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Exactly,” Guest replied coldly. “And that’s what makes it worse.”
All eyes slowly turned back to her.
Y/n had been watching the entire conversation like one might watch a play unfold—bored, patient, above it. Her arms remained folded behind her back, her posture relaxed in a way that felt almost wrong. “I must say,” she said at last, her voice smooth and dry like glass sliding over stone, “I didn’t realize your trust was so fragile. Do I truly look like I have the time or interest to throw you into your little game?” Her tone shifted subtly, laced with mockery. “Please. I have much better things to do than babysit sinners.” Her words hit like a slap. Sharp. Passive. Belittling.
007n7 visibly shrank back.
Chance whistled low under his breath. “Damn…”
“I say that you’re all here for your sins,” she said, voice calm but clear, like the edge of a blade being drawn. “Think about it.” She didn’t raise her voice. Her cold tone that held amusement was enough.
The survivors exchanged glances, but no one spoke. The words settled over them like ash.
Y/n continued, her hands now gently clasped in front of her. “Each of you, dragged from different places, different lives. Ripped from your worlds without warning. Thrown into a cycle of death and suffering, hunted like animals. Doesn’t it ever make you wonder “What did I do?” Her gaze swept across the room. First to Chance, who swallowed thickly and looked away. Then to 007n7, who tensed under her gaze. Shedletsky, Elliot, Guest 1337. One by one. Watching them flinch was almost satisfying. “You tell yourselves it’s random. Bad luck. A glitch in the system. I’ve seen what you try so hard to bury.”
She took another step, eyes never blinking. “Your crimes. Your betrayals. Your cowardice. Your lies. Each of you is here because something about you begged to be judged. This place—it’s not a punishment. It’s a reflection.”
Elliot frowned, “That can’t be true. I’ve done nothing wrong. I—I’m not perfect, but I’ve never hurt anyone.”
Y/n tilted her head at him, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Haven’t you?”
The room fell silent once more. Everyone froze—processing her words, letting them sink into their skin like ice water. No one dared speak. The tension pressed down like weight on the back of the neck.
Y/n stepped forward with slow, deliberate grace, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her eyes scanned each of them, resting briefly on 007n7, who averted his gaze immediately, then to Guest 1337, who stiffened but held her stare. Then finally, they fell on Chance, lounging against the couch, arms lazily draped over the cushions. Trying to look unbothered. Trying to keep his cool.
She stopped.
“Let’s start with you,” she said softly.
Chance raised a brow, a nervous smile playing on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Me? What’d I do?“
She smiled back, but hers was razor-sharp. “You mentioned how gambling helps you with stress, correct. For example, this is about the hundreds of dollars you kept slipping into machines that you swore you’d quit. About the bets you made knowing full well you couldn’t pay them back…such as, the mafia for example?” Y/n’s voice was smooth like honey but teasing. Her gaze lingered on Chance as if he was prey in her eyes. “Another example, how you would get yourself into so many dangerous situations—nor caring if your life was on the line. As long as you had a dollar in your face, you didn’t care.” What she was saying was sounding oddly specific—too specific if anything. It made Chance’s breath hitch, his chest tightening.
His lips trembled nervously for a second before he spoke up, “I—I-“
“You were gonna stop,” Y/n cut in, still gentle, still smiling. “Weren’t you? But greed has such a lovely voice, doesn’t it? Whispering about jackpots and what not.” Her words hit him like open-palmed slaps. No yelling. No cruelty. Just truths, spoken so plainly that it was almost unbearable. “Each coin you dropped was a promise broken,” she continued, voice now barely above a whisper, “and each lie you told to cover it sank you a little deeper. So tell me, gambler—are you still holding out for one last lucky round?” “But that’s okay,” she said, her tone suddenly softening, almost sickly sweet. She stepped closer again, her shadow falling over him as he sat frozen on the couch, eyes glued to the floor like a child caught in a lie.
Then her hand lifted.
Two Time’s breath caught across the room.
Y/n reached for Chance’s chin, slow and deliberate, her fingers gentle but inescapable as she curled them beneath his jaw and tilted his face upward. His skin flinched beneath her touch, but he didn’t resist. Couldn’t. She leaned in—close enough for only him to hear the final words as they left her lips like a lullaby dipped in venom “You’ll forgive yourself,” she murmured, her smile sharpening at the edges, “won’t you, Chance?”
His eyes darted, panic creeping just beneath the surface. But still—no words came. Her gaze was far too heavy. Her voice far too convincing.
She didn’t have no needs of a reply. The guilt she planted would do the rest.
Across the room, Two Time’s nails dug crescent moons into their palms. That was their place. Their touch. Their goddess.
Why was she giving pieces of herself away like that?
The way she looked at Chance. The way she touched him. The way she spoke to him—like she owned him for a second. Like he was special. Chance? He wasn’t nothing special. He’s not special. He was never special in the first place.
She had said she only came for them.
She promised .
So why did it feel like she was starting to slip away? No, no, no. She wasn’t supposed to get close to them. This wasn’t part of the plan. The whole idea was to show them she wasn’t a threat—so that they would stop looking at her like some sort of monster. This can’t be. She can’t forget about them. If she doesn’t then they wouldn’t be anything. Without her, they were nothing. Nothing at all.
They stared directly at the back of her head. Eyes burning through. Y/n slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder at them. Then, they saw it. They saw that smile—that condescending smile on her face. They stared back at her with such confusion, desperation…why? Why was she doing that? “Two Time,” her voice came, smooth as glass, cutting into their thoughts. They didn’t answer. Just stared. Like they were trying to read something in her face that wasn’t there anymore.
She turned all the way around to walk over to them, hands clasped in front her.“I like your friends,” she said suddenly, words light but poisonous in tone. “They’re all so… emotional. So dramatic. They react just right. Makes this whole little plan of yours feel rather entertaining, doesn’t it?”
Two Time’s entire body stiffened. “No,” they said quietly, shaking their head once. “No. I changed my mind.” The words hung in the air like gunpowder. Something shifted. The others glanced at each other, feeling it too—something wasn’t right.
Y/n blinked, tilting her head as if the answer had startled her. “No?” she echoed, feigning a soft laugh. “That’s funny. You’re not one to backtrack, honey.”
Their fists clenched at the pet name. It felt like poison getting shot through their veins. It felt so…fake. Like she didn’t mean it. “I said no,” they repeated, firmer now. Their voice cracked, but they stood their ground.
“Why?” she asked, her tone unreadable, almost innocent. She was hiding back her laughter.
Two Time didn’t answer.
“Two Time,” she said again, quieter this time. There was something eerily sweet about the way she said their name—like it was meant to unnerve. “Why not continue?”
“I don’t want to continue with the plan anymore! I just don’t!”The outburst cut through the room like a jagged blade, making everyone flinch. The words came fast, raw, torn straight from the heart without polish or thought. Two Time’s voice cracked halfway through, rising with a desperation that didn’t match their usual, overly rehearsed calm. It was messy. Embarrassing.
Y/n blinked at them, unfazed. Her silence was cruel.
Their hands clenched into fists at their sides, trembling with something they couldn’t name. Shame? Jealousy? Anger? All of it bled together in a violent storm just behind their eyes. “I brought you here,” they muttered, almost to themselves. “I did everything for you. I made them accept you—I begged them. I—I thought this would be different…I didn’t want this…”
Still no answer from her.
“You’re not supposed to be like this—“ Their voice cracked, not sharp this time, but brittle. Breaking. Like the words were splintering on the way out. They looked around the room—eyes darting from face to face, all those eyes on them. Watching. Judging. Whispering things they couldn’t hear but knew were there. They could feel it crawling beneath their skin. Their chest tightened. It felt hard to breathe. They could hear their minds, the way they’re talking about how foolish they must look. They hear, they see, they sense it all.
“I…” Their throat clenched. The words refused to come out right. Their lips moved like they were trying to say more, but their mind was loud and messy— they’re all staring at me, they’re all thinking I’m crazy, they hate me, she hates me, I did this for her, I did everything for her— “I thought you were…” Their voice dropped to a breath, unsteady and full of static. “You said I was yours. You said—”
They stopped again, biting down on the rest like it physically hurt to speak.
Everyone was still staring. No one moved. No one spoke.
Their face twitched. Their fingers curled and uncurled like they didn’t know where to put their hands, like they wanted to rip the eyes off everyone in the room and vanish.
Their breath stuttered as the silence closed in around them, eyes darting wildly before they squeezed shut. Hands flew up to cover their ears, fingers digging hard into their scalp as they shook their head in sharp, frantic motions—like they could drown out the stares, the thoughts, the judgment pressing in from all sides. Their chest heaved, panic swelling until it spilled over, and without a word, Two Time turned and stumbled out of the room, the door slamming shut behind them with a final, jarring thud.
Notes:
I didn’t even realize how long this chapter was AT ALL… I thought that I would write a little more longer to make up for the fact that the last chapter was late (and I didn’t really like how it went) but I think I went overboard💔
Chapter 8: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋.
Chapter Text
They couldn’t stop.
Their breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts, loud and uneven—like every inhale scraped against the inside of their throat. It echoed in their ears, deafening. The more they tried to calm down, the more it spiraled. If they stopped breathing, if they paused even for a second, they were sure they’d collapse—maybe worse.
Their hands wouldn’t stay still. They shook so violently that the dagger they gripped trembled with them, the blade’s tip stuttering above their skin without ever making contact. Not out of hesitation, no. They couldn’t aim right. Their muscles wouldn’t listen. Their vision blurred with the sting of hot tears, and their fingers refused to tighten, declined to hold steady. It was like their own body was betraying them.
And the thoughts. The thoughts wouldn’t stop either.
You’re not enough.
You’re not worthy.
You ruined it.
She hates you.
They all hate you.
A thousand voices crowded their skull, each louder than the last, overlapping, taunting, screaming. Their knees buckled, but they didn’t fall—they just stood there, trembling, gasping, eyes darting around the room like a hunted animal.
Nothing felt real except the weight pressing down on their chest, the unbearable pressure closing in, like the walls were warping, shrinking, laughing. Their heart pounded so violently they could feel it in their teeth.
And still, they couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Chance got to be able to be treated with such care. Only they were supposed to feel that way—no one else.
Not Chance.
Not Shedletsky.
Not Builderman.
Not Elliot.
Not Guest.
Not the other people who didn’t get their one-way ticket to hell.
Nobody.
Two Time watched as the blood dripped from their wrist, the tip of the dagger stained red. The scar came out jagged from how much they were shaking. They didn’t even register the pain. Not anymore.
They remembered her words. How she called them out on their selfish ways. They knew all too well that they shouldn’t feel this way but they can’t help it. They can’t help but feel so angry when someone has her attention and it’s not on them. Why can’t it be on them and only them?
They pray to the Spawn to forgive them for such selfish ways. They truly do. They admitted everything to the Spawn, let it know how much of a devastation they were to the cult. They let the world know of all of their sins.
They admitted that they hated how she had other believers.
They admitted that they never felt bad for killing their partner.
They admitted everything.
Yet, Spawn knows that distasteful deeds in its name shall not go unnoticed. So here they are—suffering for the consequences of their actions.
Their arm was drenched—slick, crimson, glistening under the faint light. Blood smeared down in messy, broken lines, some fresh and running, others already beginning to dry and darken around the edges. The skin was torn open in too many places to count, as if they’d been chasing silence with every slash, trying to carve the noise out of their flesh.
A choked sob broke from their throat, sharp and strangled, the sound of something unraveling. Their breath hitched as their eyes locked onto the mess they’d made—onto what their own hands had done. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t controlled. It was chaotic and frantic, like the aftermath of a storm they couldn’t stop.
But still, they reminded themselves, over and over again, through gritted teeth and gasping breaths:
This isn’t for comfort.
This isn’t for me.
It wasn’t to cope. It wasn’t to feel better.
It was for her.
Every cut. Every drop. Every bit of pain, they weren’t a sacrifice for relief. They were offerings. They were devoted. They were proof . “I’m yours,” they whispered shakily, like saying it aloud would make it true again. “All of this… It’s for you. Not me. You. E-Even if you don’t feel the same way.” Their voice cracked. Their heart ached at the last bit of their sentence.
They brought their arm that wasn’t drenched in blood up to their face, rubbing their watery eyes. They felt the need to pray to the Spawn for forgiveness. They have committed far too many sins just now and in the past. It is only right to do so. They dropped the dagger onto the grass to slowly move their hands together, clasping. The movement was painful on their right arm but it didn’t stop them. They closed their eyes tightly.
“Oh—Oh mighty Spawn, please forgive me for the sins I-I have committed,” they stammered, knees buried in the wet earth, their entire body trembling under the weight of panic and shame. Their voice cracked through a fit of hiccups, thick with desperation. “I apologize for dishonoring you—you in multiple sinful acts. M-May you forgive me of my sins and—“
The rest was ripped straight from their mouth.
A harsh, violent slap landed across their face—so loud it rang like a gunshot in the open air. It came out of nowhere. A blur of movement followed by pain. The force of it was enough to knock them clean off their knees, sending them toppling sideways into the cold, muddy grass with a choked gasp.
They hit the ground hard, face stinging, mud smearing their cheek and temples. Dazed. Silenced.
Standing over them, breathing sharply through flared nostrils, was she.
Y/n.
And she looked furious.
Not just annoyed. Not disappointed. No, this was something deeper. Older. Like wrath passed down from the gods. Her jaw was tight, eyes narrow and gleaming with betrayal. Her hand, the one she struck with, still hung stiff in the air like it hadn’t quite come back to her yet. “You fucking embarrassment,” she hissed, voice low and venomous. Her silhouette towered over them, cast in moonlight and malice. “ That was your little display in the lobby? That pathetic tantrum you dared to act upon!?” She snapped, inching closer to Two Time’s body.
Two Time whimpered, trying to push themselves up with trembling hands, only to flinch as her shoe met their ribs with a shove but not hard enough to break anything, but enough to leave them breathless, enough to humiliate. They wheezed at the impact before letting out a pained whine.
“I had everything laid out for you, Two Time,” she snarled, pacing in a slow, menacing circle around their collapsed figure. “You wanted me to play along? I did. You wanted your little friends to like me? I gave them a show. And then you want to back out of it like a fucking idiot?”
They curled in tighter, face hidden in their arms, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. The blood from earlier wounds still leaked down their skin, fresh and stinging. Every sound, every movement, was loud in their head. Her voice. The sting on their cheek. The suffocating shame.
“You embarrassed me, ” she shouted, striking them again—this time grabbing a fistful of their shirt and dragging them partway up from the mud only to slam them back down. “Do you understand that? Do you have any idea what you did?! I stood beside you, I stood in front of them like a gift, and you spat on it like a coward!”
Two Time gasped, choking on a sob. Their hands scrambled to cover their face, to shield themselves. “M-My Goddess…I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—“ They stammered. Tears poured freely from their eyes now, mixing with blood and dirt, and their shoulders convulsed with each broken breath.
“Didn’t mean to?” she repeated mockingly, crouching low beside them, yanking their head up by the hair. “You don’t get to not mean to. Not with me. You begged me to come into that lobby. You begged me to follow your plan, and then what? You crumble. You shake. You tell me no in front of them.” The words left her mouth like poison. Each one was like a knife stabbing Two Time’s heart, twisting it, snatching it out, and repeating it all over again.
Another slap, this one quicker, harder. Their ear rang and their head snapped to the right. Their vision blurred with the overflow of tears. Everything hurt so bad. It felt like hell to experience such agonizing pain from no one other than their god. Is this what Azure felt like…? Did he feel the same way before Two Time took the dagger and stabbed him right in his chest multiple times? Is this what he saw in his last moments of life?
Did they truly feel regretful for their sins? Did they? Have they? Will they?
Two Time’s eyes trailed downward—slowly, fearfully—fixating on the clenched fist. Their bottom lip quivered, and more tears spilled down their cheeks in thick, helpless streaks. Every breath they took was shaky, shallow, like they were trying to breathe through glass lodged in their throat.
“D-Don’t hit me… please don’t—!”
“SHUT UP!” Her voice cracked through the air like a whip, loud and jarring enough to make their entire body flinch violently. Her words hit harder than any blow. The silence that followed was crushing, as if the whole world recoiled in fear with them. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Two Time looked up at her, sniffling pitifully. They wiped their nose with the back of their hand. “I-I-I’m sorry for… for backing out,” they stammered, voice broken and barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t’ve done that… I-I should’ve stuck with the plan. I should’ve believed in—l-listened to you.” They hiccupped, swallowing hard against the sobs still caught in their throat. Their body ached from where they’d been struck, the sting still hot against their skin, and their knees sank deeper into the cold, wet mud. “I was wrong,” they forced out, flinching again even though she hadn’t moved. “You’re r-right. You’re always right. I—I just got scared, I didn’t mean to make you angry—please don’t be angry, please…”
Then, through teary eyes, they saw it. A few drops of red clinging to the hem of her pristine dress. Their heart dropped “I…” Their voice cracked again. “I’m sorry for the blood—I didn’t mean to get it on you, I swear. I wasn’t thinking, I—I should’ve been more careful.” They lifted a shaky finger towards the stains which she made no move to look at, staring at them. “I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to stain you, I’ll clean it, please don’t be mad…” They pleaded.
Y/n let a scoff fall from her lips before crouching beside them. Looking at how pathetic they looked. Tears were still running down their pale cheeks, running over the old streaks that stuck to their cheeks. Their nose was runny and every so often they’d let out a wet sniffle. Their left cheek was blazing red and it made no effort to fade. Their eyes looked so tired but hurt. It made her laugh a little bit at the sight. “Spawns, you’re ugly.” She teased. Two Time didn’t say anything back, just stared at her like a kicked puppy. “I don’t forgive you. You’re nothing but cult trash.” Her voice got monotonously deep with not one sliver of emotion. “I’ll tell you how it is. You can trust me—you have no choice. You never did. Cause you’re the bug under my shoe, sweetheart.” Her voice was low and held so much control in it. “You think that you’re someone so special, don’t you? I’ll tell you about yourself since you’re too pathetic to figure it out yourself.” She leaned down, crouching to their eye level, her expression unreadable—until it twisted into that same disgusted sneer she always wore when she was about to tear them apart. “You’re weak. Pitiful. You think worshipping me gives you value? It doesn’t. You’re a clingy little mess who can’t stand not being the center of my attention.” Her voice rose with each word, volume spiking along with her fury. Two Time’s visibly flinched at every word, face tightening up. “You were so quick to abandon the plan. You humiliated me—in front of them. After everything I gave you, after everything you claimed to be willing to do. All it took was a little pressure and you folded like wet paper.”
She stood back up on her feet and loomed over them, fists clenching at her sides again. Two Time audibly whimpered at the sight, knowing already that there was a chance she was going to land another hit on them “And now you sit there, blubbering, bleeding all over my dress, and I’m supposed to believe it’s just nerves? Just fear?” Her knuckles tightened. Two Time could feel it before it happened.
“Tell me the truth.”
They didn’t respond fast enough. Their lips moved ever so slightly but nothing came out. They wanted to speak. They wanted to give her an answer. But they just couldn’t do it. They couldn’t—
With a sharp grunt, her clenched fist came down hard—slamming across their face with such force it made their head whip sideways. There was a sickening crunch as her knuckles collided with the bridge of their nose. Blood burst out instantly, running down their lips and chin as they hit the mud with a dull thud, gasping.
“TELL ME THE TRUTH!”
Two Time sobbed into the dirt, clutching their face as blood poured from their nose. Their mind were a haze of pain, panic, and humiliation. Their body shook like it couldn’t hold itself upright anymore. Still, they forced themselves to answer. To obey. “I—I was j-jealous!” they choked out, voice thick and shrill. “I was jealous of Chance! Th-the way you touched him, the way you looked at him—I-it wasn’t like how you look at me! It felt like y-you were giving him what was m-mine!” Their shoulders convulsed with each heave, tears mixing with the mud and blood on their face. “You s-said I was yours! But it didn’t feel like it! I—I wanted it back! I wanted you to l-look at me like that!”
They wailed openly now, body folding in on itself, unable to even wipe the blood from their lips. “When I first saw you at the cabin I was so happy to see you! And when you said how I was your favorite I didn’t understand how a person like you could ever cherish someone like me!” They hiccupped, clutching their chest like it would help slow their racing heart. “I thought it meant that you saw me as so much more than just a devoted follower! I know you pushed me away before and how the cult may not be the right place for you to live in!” A sob choked its way up their throat. It hurt for them to even breath, throat sore and scratchy. “That smile of yours that you had on your face when talking to him, in others eyes, it would be seen as nothing but malicious! But to me, it was so pure! It was Spawn’s gift that it handed down to you! I won’t pretend that I didn’t see it! I can’t pretend anymore!”
A heavy silence stretched between the two of them, thick and suffocating like the air before a storm. Nothing moved. Not a breath, not a shift in the wind. The tension sat in the space between them like a wall, pulsing, unbearable.
And then she laughed.
A sharp, mocking, unforgiving laugh that stabbed deeper than her fists ever could. She tossed her head back, arms crossed as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Oh, you poor little fool,” she said between cackles, eyes glinting like cold steel. “ Jealous ? You think you have a right to be jealous?” She laughed again, a wicked smile stretching her lips. “I could cherish every single one of them if I wanted. I could drag them to the temple and name them my favorites. And you? You’d still come crawling back, wouldn’t you?”
Two Time didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Their sobs only grew louder, more broken, muffled by the grass and blood. It all hurt so bad. Their body ached with unbearable pain.
It was silent between the two of them. A silence so loud it screamed through the air like static. Y/n let out a quiet sigh, her expression unreadable as she turned away from them. She walked a few paces over to a smooth, moss-covered stone nearby and sat down, her movements lazy, deliberate. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, hands cupping her cheeks. Her eyes stayed on them—on Two Time, who was still hunched in the dirt, their cries soaking into the mud like spilled ink. Their body trembled, curled inwards on itself, a mess of grime and blood and shame.
She tilted her head at the sight, watching them cry the way one might watch rain trickle down a window. With distance. With detachment. Then, her voice cut softly through the quiet, melodic, and honey-sweet, “Two Time.”
They didn’t look up. Not right away. But she raised one hand and curled a single finger toward herself, beckoning. Her smile was so gentle. So cruel.
“Come here.”
It took them a moment, but they moved. Crawling—slow, hesitant, like a scolded animal inching toward its master. Their palms slid through wet grass and soil, their knees sank into the dirt as they dragged themselves closer. When they reached her feet, they looked up—tear-streaked, nose running, blood still painting their face. She patted her lap lightly, still smiling. Without a word, Two Time let their head drop into her lap. Just like they used to do. Like back at the temple, when her touch felt holy. Her fingers moved to gently brush their damp hair away from their face, and she looked down at them with eyes full of false warmth.
“Just because you made a mistake,” she began, her voice low and smooth, “doesn’t make you a bad person.”
They let out a choked breath, curling closer.
“You were confused, overwhelmed. I understand.” Her fingers combed through their hair, slow and calculated. “It’s hard being devoted, isn’t it? You give and give and give, and sometimes…” She leaned down slightly, whispering against the top of their head, “Sometimes, it still doesn’t feel like enough.”
A quiet sob left their throat.
“But that’s okay,” she cooed. “You don’t need to prove anything anymore, my sweet little follower. What matters is that you forgive yourself.” She tilted their face up gently by the chin, her voice soft as silk. “You’ll forgive yourself, won’t you, Two Time?” And for a moment—for a heartbeat—they believed her. They nodded, eyes watery and wide.
…
…
…
…
Without warning, her hands shoved them off her lap, hard. Their body collapsed into the grass and mud once again, stunned, filthy. She stood up, wiping off her dress like their very presence had tainted it.
“I’m done here,” she said, voice void of affection, void of anything except cold finality. “Stay. Wallow. I don’t care.”
Two Time stared up at her in disbelief, scrambling onto their knees. “W-Wait, what? No! Nonononono—NO! Please—please, don’t go! You can’t leave! Please, give me another chance!” they cried, crawling toward her again. Their fingers reached out, grasping at the hem of her clothes like a life line.
“I said I’m leaving,” she snapped, now turning away fully. “You’re vile.”
Two Time grabbed her wrist, trembling violently. “I’ll do better, I promise—I’ll never disobey again, just don’t leave me, please— don’t leave me! ” they cried out, voice cracking as the tears poured down their face. “I swear on it! I swear! Don’t leave me here! At least don’t go! Please, I beg of you! I beg of you!” Their voice wasn’t even human anymore. It was frantic, broken, raw—ripped from the very depths of their gut. Snot and blood mixed on their upper lip as they pressed their forehead against her arm, as if the contact would anchor her to this moment, to them. Their other hand clawed desperately at her dress, gripping tight like it was the only thing keeping them from shattering.
She didn’t stop walking.
A crack of light burst from her fingertips as she began pulling open a glowing portal, uncaring of the way their arms were wrapped around hers, the way their face was buried against her in desperation. She dragged them along like a loose thread snagged on her sleeve. They stumbled and slipped in the mud, legs weak and uncoordinated from the weight of emotion and blood loss, but they wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t. Their fingers curled tighter around her wrist as if letting go would kill them.
“ Please! ” they howled, more animal than person. “Don’t do this! Not to me! I gave you everything! I gave you everything I had, everything I was! You made me this way, you chose me! Don’t throw me away now, please— ” They yanked on her wrist as hard as they could, trying to stop her, trying to turn her around, make her see them. But she didn’t even flinch. Her steps were steady. Her gaze was forward. That glowing portal loomed ahead, humming with quiet energy, uncaring, eternal. “Please! LOOK AT ME—! I-I-I can’t be alone! I can’t go through this without you! You can’t leave me here! Please! I beg of you! I love you!” they sobbed, words tumbling out like vomit. “I worship you! I’d rather burn with you than breathe without you! Please don’t do this to me—please don’t leave me behind like this! ”
She didn’t even bother to shove them off. Not a word, not a glance. Her indifference was a knife sharper than any blade. While their hands clung to her like a lifeline, trembling and bloodied, she merely lifted her hand with elegant ease, fingers parting the air like silk as a sudden burst of light cracked through the damp night sky. The portal bloomed a few feet away—glowing, swirling, unbothered by the chaos unraveling at her feet. And through it all, their cries and pleas meant nothing to her. They were just noise—background static, a pitiful hum beneath her calm. If anything, it soothed her, filled her with that familiar power she adored. Their sobbing, their desperation, their raw need for her… it was music.
The portal’s light reflected in their eyes as it grew closer. Closer. Closer. And the closer it got, the more it felt like they were being erased. “My goddess… please…” they whispered brokenly, tears slipping down their chin and splashing onto her dress. “I can’t be here alone. Not without you. Without you, I’m truly nothing. Please. Please I’ll make it right…” They sniffled.
She didn’t answer.
The portal swirled, illuminating her from behind like a halo, except she wasn’t divine—she was destruction. She finally turned to them and looked at them with a blank expression, drinking in the pathetic sight. “You belong here with all those sinners, Two Time. You have blood on your hands.” She said. A sweet smile made way to her face, that same smile that Two Time claimed to be so pure—so perfect—but what do they know? They’re the puppet in this story. “You and I both know full well that the cult is all a hoax. You and I both know that you weren’t gifted a second life at all. You’re in a loophole with false realities and yourself. I ‘gifted’ you. a second life for no reason. You killed Azure for no reason. Azure died for no reason.”
The words shattered everything.
It was as if the night cracked open.
Two Time froze mid-sob, hands still trembling where they gripped her wrist. The strength drained from their arms, their fingers slipping loose one by one like the last fraying threads of a lifeline. Their knees hit the muddy ground with a thud, eyes wide, unfocused—like the world had been flipped inside out. All that devotion, all that worship, all that purpose —disintegrated in seconds. A hoax. A lie. Their very existence was a joke she had been laughing at this entire time.
The realization hit them like ice water flooding their lungs.
They had nothing. No god. No second life. No meaning behind the blood on their hands. The look on their face twisted—horror carved deep into every trembling muscle. Their mouth opened like they wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Just an empty rasp. Like even their voice had abandoned them now.
Without a second thought, she turned on her heel and walked toward the portal. She stood in front of it, staring at the bright light that flashed at her. She looked over her shoulder. “Two Time,” she called out.
“Remember to start taking those pills of yours. The Spawn wouldn’t like you in this state.”
𓏲𝄢
Notes:
I can explain guys I promise
Chapter 9: A/N
Chapter Text
Hiiii everyone! I wanted to see if you guys would be interested if I were to make a much more happier Two Time x Reader book that is Pre-Forsaken to make up the amount of pain that I caused in some of you with my last one💔 I have many ideas for other things such as Mafioso x Reader collection maybe and I would love to hear what you guys think!
Thank you for reading this small authors note!❤️❤️❤️
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Wonderclockwondersnmysticmagical on Chapter 3 Fri 20 Jun 2025 09:40PM UTC
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Forkys_Cake on Chapter 3 Sat 21 Jun 2025 12:53AM UTC
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thegoldz on Chapter 3 Sat 21 Jun 2025 03:20AM UTC
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MikoKage11 on Chapter 4 Sat 21 Jun 2025 09:14PM UTC
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Veronica_thecoolest on Chapter 4 Sun 22 Jun 2025 01:23AM UTC
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Veronica_thecoolest on Chapter 4 Sun 22 Jun 2025 04:50PM UTC
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caterpiwi_garden on Chapter 4 Sun 22 Jun 2025 04:54AM UTC
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Wonderclockwondersnmysticmagical on Chapter 5 Sun 22 Jun 2025 11:20PM UTC
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orphan_account on Chapter 5 Wed 25 Jun 2025 10:18PM UTC
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airys_number1fan on Chapter 5 Sun 22 Jun 2025 11:59PM UTC
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Some guy (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 30 Jun 2025 06:14PM UTC
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airys_number1fan on Chapter 5 Mon 30 Jun 2025 06:18PM UTC
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0ptical1llusionz on Chapter 5 Mon 23 Jun 2025 12:09AM UTC
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Veronica_thecoolest on Chapter 5 Tue 24 Jun 2025 01:08AM UTC
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Forkys_Cake on Chapter 6 Wed 25 Jun 2025 01:43AM UTC
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