Chapter Text
Stop trying to resist. I can’t feel anything but suffering—and I am going to do anything to make you experience even a fraction of my world. I will do whatever it takes, even if it means hurting everybody dear to you. Builderman, Doombringer, my creator, and especially that demolitionist boy—but I will keep you around for as long as possible. I will make you feel hope, hope that they will somehow come out of this alive—and in the end, I will snatch it all away from you. My creator may be the source of all my suffering, but you are the one who’s made it infinitely worse, and you deserve even more pain than he. Now go!
Dusekkar woke up in a cold sweat. They started frantically touching their hollow head, looking to feel something... Good, the flame in them was still lit. They let out a long sigh of relief... But even then, that sinking feeling in their chest didn’t subside.
That green entity—1x1x1x1 was its name—had been appearing in the pumpkin’s dreams every single night, ever since the day they terminated it—and the nightmares had only been getting worse and worse. It had been mildly unsettling at first, then it turned to the creature being violent and chasing after them, and then to straight up torture. Nobody else knew them as well as it did, especially his biggest fears. He was deathly afraid of water, of fire extinguishers, of anything that might threaten to put out that flame behind their blue pumpkin shell, for that would kill them. A massive flood had destroyed their home and almost killed them; 1x knew that, which is why almost all of their dreams involved some kind of biblical rainstorm.
No matter how much extra stress this had been causing him, Dusekkar would bite the bullet and carry on. He knew that what 1x wanted most was to break free from the Banlands and start killing people again, but he could never let it. 1x1x1x1 had ties to Shedletsky which gave it limited admin capabilities; this could potentially help it break free from its prison. This is why Dusekkar had set up a constant magic barrier to keep it from breaking through—but that came with the side effect of 1x being able to contact him through it. The barrier seemed to get weaker and weaker every day and drained his energy more and more, which started making it unsustainable.
The admin was on his final straw. He had felt like he could handle this burden—but as soon as the entity started threatening his fellow colleagues, as soon as it started threatening Taph, it was his breaking point. When it was eventually going to break through his magic, it was going to go for Taph first—he just knew it.
That’s why Dusekkar felt like he had no other choice.
* * *
“I resign.”
As the pumpkin uttered those words, Builderman looked at him in shock, jaw on the floor. StickMasterLuke and Clockwork were equally as appalled, while Shedletsky seemed strangely unperturbed. Doombringer, grinning threateningly like a shark, broke the silence with his cynical chuckles. They had rarely seen him speak without his cryptic rhymes, so seeing him be so straightforward made it clear he was completely serious.
Builderman, the head of the admins, quickly got back to his senses and slammed his fist on the table.
“Whaddaya mean ya quit!?” he hollered. “Ya can’t just run away like this. At least give us an explanation, goddammit!”
“This position has brought me a lot of stress, you see; I realised a Roblox admin is not who I want to be. Take care, I know you can bear—virtue and expertise are something we all share.”
Builderman wasn’t very comforted. Dusekkar was one of the only competent admins left, so he was afraid of the prospect of working without them. His face having turned beet red, he tried to stand up from his chair to say something—but Shedletsky held him back, maintaining a professional smile.
“Sorry to see you go, Matt,” he said with a look of sorrow in his eyes—but the mage thought they could spot the faintest hint of sarcasm. “On behalf of everyone, we understand if you don’t feel good here, after everything we put you through. I promise that we won’t have a problem working without you—and hopefully we’ll get to see each other again!”
Dusekkar glared at Shedletsky. He was the reason 1x1x1x1 existed, the real culprit behind his sudden departure. Builderman and StickMasterLuke also glared at him, but for a different reason. Luke turned over to whisper to him something like “how could you let him go so easily?” to which the calm man simply shrugged. The entire time, Doombringer couldn’t stop chuckling under his nose.
“For your understanding I thank you, and I wish for us to meet again too. As the moment dies, I have to say my goodbyes.”
After his parting words, Dusekkar turned around and headed to the elevator of Roblox HQ, not looking back at the chaos that was about to unfold between the admins. They didn’t want to know.
As soon as they thought they had finally gotten through the most difficult part, that brief feeling of relief immediately washed away. They saw him. Standing next to the elevator. It was Taph. He had probably gone to the top floor of the building to get the list of his daily duties as he did every day, which allowed him to hear everything. Even though his face was covered by his cloak and he had no ability to speak, the pumpkin could feel the grief emanating from him.
As soon as Dusekkar got near, the demolitionist ran up to them and clutched onto their arm with both of his hands. They were nothing more than his superior, however Taph felt a special attachment to them—they made him feel safe, the way they treated him with so much care, the way they protected him from the wrath of other admins, the way they always waited to talk to him every lunch break. He held onto the pumpkin tightly, not wanting to let them go. He needed them to stay.
Dusekkar remained frozen in space, as guilt was beginning to overcome them. They could feel the demolitionist’s eyes piercing into theirs even from behind his cloak. Those big, hypnotising eyes they had yet to see. God, how much they wanted to see him. The only thing they could do was pat his head in an attempt to comfort him, as they tried to think of what to tell him:
“Taph... I’m... Please forgive me.”
No. They couldn’t. They didn’t bear to be with him any longer—it was simply going to make it hurt even more.
Dusekkar shook off the demolitionist’s hand and ran into the elevator. As its sliding doors were closing, the former admin could get one last glimpse of him, his crying face remaining completely hidden.