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.
Notes:
i love them so much... but at the same time, i want them to suffer
Chapter Text
Dusekkar ran, and never stopped running. Where he needed to go was somewhere as far away from his home as possible, as far away from the Roblox HQ as possible—anywhere 1x1x1x1 couldn’t get him.
He hopped on a random train, trying his best to keep a low profile, and let it take him wherever it desired. After travelling the entire day through all sorts of games and neighbourhoods, he ended up in a place with familiar scenery. An endless sea of towering pine trees, layered atop hills and rising mountains, brightly illuminated by the setting sun. It seemed like any old forest, but to Dusekkar, this exact place was all too familiar—it was where he had grown up and learned how to use magic. He made up his mind on the spot—this is where he needed to go, nobody was going to find him here.
The next stop was at a remote settlement—this is where he got off the train. Immediately, he took off to the surrounding forest, heading as far from any civilisation as possible. The more he walked, the more he realised how much had changed here. It seemed... even wilder, even spookier than before. Rather than verdant grass, the ground was covered by a carpet of fallen brown pine needles, while the trees themselves were more densely populated. He thought he could easily fend for himself in a place he’d spent so much of his life in, but perhaps living in comfort for so long had made him forget his roots, turning him into just another citizen.
Dusekkar found himself in a small clearing and at down on the only remaining stump, his legs were aching from all this walking. The sun had already set and everything was shrouded in darkness, except for the small area around him illuminated by the flame inside his head. Surrounded by peace and silence, he could finally take a break and concentrate on his own thoughts. It didn’t take him long to ask himself the question: what in the world was he doing here? He hadn’t brought any food or water. He thought he could use magic to help him hunt and forage—but that’s when it hit him: he hadn’t even brought his staff!
Besides, what was he even hoping to achieve by running away? That was no guarantee that 1x1x1x1 would leave him alone, was it? There was still a risk of them terrorising or even hurting the people he cared about; quitting didn’t magically remove that risk. The only thing Dusekkar did was let down his fellow admins, trying to evade any responsibility he had with keeping 1x in check. Coward. Nothing but a coward.
For a moment, they thought they had made a terrible mistake... But the more they pondered, the more they realised that they didn’t want to go back. Perhaps 1x1x1x1 wasn’t the only reason they quit. They suddenly remembered how much pressure had been piled onto them by everyone. Even though the pumpkin appeared to have it all together, the sheer amount of duties they had to do—from having to look through the appeals of banned accounts, to punishing exploiters and spammers, as well as serving as the voice of reason of the admins and looking for flaws in every decision they made, or calming down any argument they had—it had all been taking a toll on them. It was impossible to deal with it all by themself.
A vague memory resurfaced: their first breakdown, about a year ago. They’d done it in front of Taph while being there to supervise one of his demolitions. It had been a very stressful day, with the Roblox HQ having been swarmed with protestors due to a couple of wrongful terminations. Builderman had just called, telling them to appease the protestors by themself—but at the same time, they also had to look after the demolitionist to make sure he wasn’t attacked by one of them, and also to investigate an unrelated case about illegal gear dealers. Combined with week in a row of nonstop working, they felt like they could no longer handle this, and that one call had been enough to make them let it all out. They were never going to get a break. Dusekkar could hardly recall what his emotions had made them do, but they could still remember the sensation of Taph holding their hand as they cried and lamented to him. It was so pathetic, using a subordinate as their emotional support pet because they didn’t have anybody else. The demolitionist’s support was the only reason they managed to handle everything that day—without him, they probably would’ve resigned a long time ago.
No. They didn’t want to think about that anymore. Taph, as well as everybody else, was all in the past now.
As he was losing himself in his thoughts, Dusekkar immediately went on high alert as he heard ominous noises from nearby.
Ki ki ki... ma ma ma...
It was reminiscent of the sound of tree branches snapping, just loud enough to overpower the chirping cicadas—but it was obvious there was something very wrong. The air began to get colder around him. Not after long, the rhythm of quick footsteps started reverberating from behind—they were headed straight to him. Caught off-guard, the only thing the pumpkin could do was look behind himself: he could make out a man in a hockey mask wielding a machete. It was no doubt that this was Jason—a popular urban legend that he had never even considered could be real. So many questions were floating in the air, but there was no time to answer them, as Dusekkar was moments away from being turned into a pie.
The man drew his blade back and swung, plunging it into his stomach. The victim recoiled in pain, which made him fall off the stump, on his back. He was too afraid to even scream as Jason walked up to him, ready to finish him off. It leaned over and swung again, this time aiming straight for the head. It really was the end... Or so it seemed.
Out of nowhere the pumpkin was hit by a bolt of magic, which spread through his entire body and made his every nerve vibrate. As soon as the machete was about to make contact, it... stopped? It barely left a scratch, making a loud clacking sound as if it were striking stone. The killer stopped for a moment and tried to slash again, then again, and then again... but every time, there was nothing. Needless to say, his confusion was palpable. He took a step back to try and figure out what had just happened.
Dusekkar was even more confused. A Slateskin spell? But he had forgotten his staff...
Right at that moment, another blast of magic hit him, but he couldn’t recognise the spell. Suddenly, all the agony from the wound that Jason had caused him was gone—and so was the slightly less horrific pain of his legs aching. Afterwards, a mysterious figure appeared behind the killer—perhaps that was the unknown mage that had been protecting him. It used Jason’s momentary confusion to catch him off-guard, putting him in a choke hold using its giant staff.
Relieved from the pain, Dusekkar was able to stand, which allowed him to get a closer look at the mage: what looked like a woman with murky unkempt hair and antlers that looked more like tree branches. She seemed younger than him, but not by too much. While struggling to keep Jason under control, she looked at the pumpkin with a grave expression.
“Don’t just stand around. Run!”
He listened to her. He had no choice but to listen to her. Once again, he let his legs take him as far as they could, as far away as possible from that being. Part of him worried if that mage was going to be okay, but his survival instincts had taken over and he couldn’t dwell on that for too long.
He didn’t know how long he’d run for, but it wasn’t long until a feeling of weakness had begun to overcome him. He looked down at his abdomen for the first time, and saw how bad that wound really was. His robes had been painted sanguine and there was a long trail of blood behind him; running likely hadn’t made the wound any better.
Dusekkar collapsed on his knees and darkness started taking over his vision. Voices started ringing in his mind: He was dying! Not even one night at the forest, and he was already dying! Despite being spared of the physical torment, the mental torment was arguably even worse.
Shortly afterwards, he passed out.
Notes:
i really wish dusekkar had more of a backstory sometimes... right now i'm basically forced to make one for him. not complaining though!
Chapter Text
Once again, Dusekkar was being chased. They knew they were running away from something. Didn’t know what it was—but it felt more terrifying than anything prior. They weren’t in a forest; instead, the world around them was nothing but an endless ocean. Dusekkar’s feet were splashing on top of the water, and they could hear the footsteps of the person behind them quickly approaching. Small whispers echoed with the powerful sea wind, repeating the same phrase:
Turn back. Turn back. Turn back. Turn back. Turn back. Turn back.
The pumpkin’s legs cramped and they stopped right in their tracks, frozen in place. They tried their hardest to start moving again, but couldn’t—while the chaser’s footsteps were becoming louder and louder.
Don’t just stand around.
The relative silence was replaced by earsplitting ringing that kept getting louder and louder, all the while Dusekkar could hear their own heartbeat. When the person running after them finally reached them, they grabbed them by the shoulders and turned them around to look at them. The chaser was wearing the mask of Jason—but hadn’t brought his knife and chainsaw. They strengthened their grip on the pumpkin and glared right into their eyeholes, despite their best efforts to look away. Then, the masked figure slowly pulled away their hands to take it off and toss it aside, revealing themself.
Dusekkar recognised that black hood, that bandana. It was Taph. Instead of standing threateningly like Jason, the demolitionist was embracing himself and cowering in fear—even though he had been the one chasing him. The whispers repeating “Turn back.” had been coming from him—but the words were starting to become quicker and more distorted. He took a couple of small steps backwards, trying to distance himself.
Right at that moment, something came to Dusekkar. Their arms moved by themselves, forcefully pushing Taph to the ground. He landed on his back, creating a powerful splashing noise. That ringing was becoming even louder. As the demolitionist kept trying to pull away, the former admin’s body continued to move as if they had been possessed, and they placed themself on top of him. The two were now face to face, with Dusekkar looking down at him like a predator looking at its prey. They drew their head closer as Taph kept squirming like a fly caught in a spiderweb. They could feel his breath on their face through that bandana. It was quick and trembly.
This is when they finally did what they’d wanted to do for years. They grabbed the demolitionist’s hood and slowly took it off.
Rather than being met by his face, a blinding white light was being unleashed. He was so beautiful that his face wasn’t even visible. The light quickly took over their vision, until there was nothing visible other than this deathly white.
* * *
Dusekkar was woken up by the distant sound of a squealing kettle. As he opened his eyeholes, an unfamiliar place revealed itself in front of him. He’d been lying on a comfortable sofa and tucked under blankets made of animal hide. It made him feel oddly sentimental. There didn’t seem to be anybody in the room, so he slowly sat up to take a look around, wrapping the blanket around his body to maximise comfort. As he moved, a sharp pain shot from the wound in his stomach, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
The latticed windows showed that it was still the dead of night outside. On the edge of the room was an unlit fireplace—he could tell from a single look that it didn’t see much use. The walls were made of pine logs, and all of the furniture was wooden and seemed to have been crafted by an amateur carpenter—but he was impressed nonetheless. His eyes were drawn to a picture of Builderman hanging on the wall. A series of circles was crudely painted on it, making it look like a dartboard that centred on his forehead. A couple of daggers had been thrown on it, but all of them were nowhere near the bullseye.
As Dusekkar was surveying the place, the door leading to another room creaked open. Off came a person who he didn’t recognise at first, but soon he realised: this was the woman that had just saved his life. She didn’t look very different, wearing that same greyscale outfit that seemed to have been stitched together from dead animals. Something about her reminded him of the fallen leaves in late autumn, mixed together with the slush after the first snow. She was carrying an ornate teapot in her hand, with steam still bursting out of it.
As soon as she saw the pumpkin, her intense expression changed to a more relaxed one—maybe even to what some people would consider a smile.
“Oh, you’re awake. Took ya long enough.”
She walked over to him and sat down on the opposite side of the sofa, maintaining a fair amount of distance between them. There were two porcelain cups on the coffee table in front of them, from the same set as the teapot—the mage had likely put them there in advance. She leaned over to pour the dark liquid in both of them and proceeded to take the one with the broken handle.
“This is forget-me-not tea. I grew the flowers myself.”
Dusekkar was a bit hesitant to take the cup at first, as everything in this place made him feel a bit on edge. On top of everything, she was also wearing a necklace of the Spawn—did she seriously believe in it? In the end, he ended up taking it—not because it would be rude not to, but because he just realised he had been thirsty as hell.
As steam was still coming out of the cup, the pumpkin drank half of it in two gulps as if it were nothing. It had a subtle grassy flavour that reminded him a home. Wherever his home was supposed to be, anyways. Suddenly, he felt a lot more at ease.
“Hey, you’re gonna burn yourself!” she gasped, looking at him in shock. Dusekkar remembered humans weren’t friends with hot food.
“Worry not: I can handle the heat, it feels like eating sweets,” he said, as he gulped down the rest of his cup. It was so refreshing.
“Right, you’re made of fire and all... Anyway, you haven’t introduced yourself yet.”
How rude of her. She could’ve done it first.
“My name is Dusekkar, I lived here a long time ago. I came here from afar, and I don’t know where to go.”
“Another lost tourist, I see. Well, I’m Cerulean, and I work as a forest guardian of sorts. This place is infested with all sorts of creepy creatures, and I’m paid to protect unsuspecting visitors like you.
“So that is why you saved me, no?”
“Exactly.”
There had been no such thing as forest guardians back when he’d lived here—perhaps the number of mages had dropped so much that people couldn’t fend for themselves. Had things really changed so much over the decade or so he’d spent in the capital, or was he simply imagining it?
Cerulean was examining the scratches on her hands and fiddling with the newly made cuts on her garments. There was a look of bewilderment on her face, as if her own body turned alien.
“I can’t believe I almost died back there...” she murmured to herself before taking a sip from her tea. “These creatures keep getting scarier and scarier, and I...”
“Er... My apologies for endangering you,” Dusekkar said. He had almost gotten her killed. He had almost gotten her killed—was that really all he had to say?
The guardian flinched in surprise as soon as she heard him. She had been so used to talking to herself that she’d completely forgotten other people could hear her.
“No, don’t worry—that’s my job, after all.” She smiled humbly in an attempt to look tough—but after a couple of seconds, it all disappeared. “Oh, who am I kidding. This was embarrassing. If I had been faster with that spell, you wouldn’t have gotten that nasty wound.”
Dusekkar instinctively touched his wound. It had been neatly wrapped in bandages, and judging from how he didn’t feel that much pain, it was obvious she had tried to use some kind of healing magic—but to limited success.
“Fret not about your faults—you just spared me from death’s call.”
“You don’t get it; I need to make sure nobody is hurt. There aren’t any hospitals around here, and if I hadn’t dragged you to my place, you’d have no way of getting help.”
“It’s impossible to perfectly follow your model. Remember that what you’re doing is noble.”
“Is it? I’m just trying to make a living as a mage after my illegal gig got shut down. Sadly, there’s not a lot of stuff you can do as a mage these days.”
Illegal gig?
“I am a mage myself—I know how you feel. I moved to the capital just so I could afford a meal.”
As soon as she heard he used magic as well, her face immediately lit up. It’s as if a switch had been turned on in her brain that removed all of her mistrust in him.
“Wait, you’re a mage? But where is your staff?”
“I haven’t used it for a while; my inexperience has begun to pile. To bring it, I thought it didn’t require.”
“So you forgot it... Well, I have plenty of spare staffs in the guest room—you can have one of them as a souvenir.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
“I don’t have a use for them anymore. Besides, I don’t often run into fellow mages like you.”
There was one thing Dusekkar had learned from dealing with people like her: it would be ruder to refuse a present than to accept it.
“With my being whole, I thank you for your heart and soul.”
“It’s no biggie.”
After the former admin heaved himself off the sofa, Cerulean took him to the guest room. From the looks of it, it hadn’t seen much use—it had been transformed into more of a storage chamber. It was nothing but shelves upon shelves of magic tomes and strange trinkets, as well as strange-looking weapons covered in dust. In the middle of it all was thrown a small bed that still managed to look comfortable.
The staves were resting on one of the bookshelves. There were four of them, but one caught his eye: it was a stick with what looked like a white snake coiled around its tip. It looked just like his old one.
“I see you’re eyeing the Staff of the Winds,” she remarked. “Take it.”
“Ah, light divine—it gives off my old staff’s shine.”
The pumpkin quickly grabbed it and looked at it in wonder, as if it were some mysterious contraption from the far future. His eyes resembled those of a child in the candy aisle. He rapidly swung it around to get a feel for it, almost hitting Cerulean in the face.
“How much I’ve missed this feeling... I have craved it throughout my entire living. To see if I’m still worth a dime, let me try!”
Dusekkar turned to the guardian and spun his staff a very specific way to try and summon a Plasma Beam, one of the simplest spells in his arsenal. However, he’d forgotten how to do it and what came out of it was instead a Water Bolt—a bouncing blue slime projectile that didn’t serve much of a purpose other than to mess with people. The Water Bolt shot Cerulean straight in the face, leaving behind a blob of slippery residue, before it bounced onto the ceiling and from there—to the bed, where it stayed.
The scary look on Cerulean’s slimed face was all he needed to know that he messed up.
“M-M-My deepest apologies, miss! I didn’t mean to! Er... My heart aches, my confidence breaks—may you please look past my mistakes.”
The guardian kept glaring at him. Her eyes were scarier than anything Jason was capable of, maybe even than 1x1x1x1. She wiped the residue off with her hands, and right as it looked like she was about to explode... She exploded in laughter. You’d think somebody as serious as her wouldn’t have such a maniacal laugh, but nope.
“Ah... I’m glad...” She tried her very best to suppress her laughter, but it wasn’t easy. “I’m glad I’m not the only one... who keeps summoning a Water Bolt when I want a Plasma Beam.”
“What!?”
Dusekkar looked absolutely shell-shocked. His mouth was open so wide it looked like his lower jaw was about to fall off.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong—I’m still pissed.” Cerulean immediately went back to her usual, intense expression. She turned to the guest room bed, which was now covered in slime residue. “I spent so much effort making it for you.”
As if his eyeholes couldn’t open any wider.
“For me!?”
“Of course. You will be staying here, after all—at least until your wound recovers.”
“Oh... The words I can express this in are few—I’m giving my sincerest thanks to you.”
Thanking her was the least he could do. He had nowhere else to go. She was his lifeline—and she didn’t even know it at all. She likely thought he was just going back to this forest for old time’s sake. How would she feel if she knew he was running away, if she knew he was just trying to leech off of her?
In the end, Cerulean changed the bedsheets and Dusekkar went back to rest in the guest room. As he closed his eyeholes, an image suddenly popped in his head: Taph, pinned to the ground, looking completely helpless. No! His eyes immediately shot open, and he didn’t dare close them again, He just remembered he’d had that dream, and it made him feel disgusted with himself. But immediately afterwards, he felt a feeling of relief wash over him. It was the first dream he’d had for the past year free of 1x1x1x1, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
Notes:
Ok so I kinda mixed up the chronology of Cerulean's backstory and realised it in the middle of writing this chapter, but she isn't canon anymore, and tbh her lore is such a mess that I don't care at this point. Cerulean has a lot of potential and I actually really like her character, but she's an obvious self-insert and her creator clearly had no real direction with her. I know she's getting replaced by Wanwood--but I didn't want to wait until we get more info about her to write this fic. I hope you enjoy my take on Cerulean!
Also. I hope my rhymes don't suck
Chapter 4
Notes:
thanks for reading and for all the kind comments!! fhjgfklgfhjddjfkhdksjhf
i meant to post this yesterday but ao3 was down
I'll try to update this every other day or every couple of days (unless i run out of ideas, which is not too unlikely)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been a couple of days since Cerulean had taken Dusekkar in. The wound was slowly starting to heal, and they were capable of walking around—but they were still too scared of leaving the premises. What if they encountered the likes of Jason or even 1x1x1x1?
Cerulean tried her best to take care of her unexpected guest, and even attempted to use healing spells on them—but they didn’t prove too effective. She spent most of her time away from home, being on duty as forest guardian or hanging out with her “old friends”. This left Dusekkar alone most of the day—they used this time to grow accustomed to their new life back at the forest. Their favourite thing to do was try to relearn magic, as they knew that they needed to be able to defend themself if they really wanted to live here. And so, the mage scoured through Cerulean’s old tomes kept in the guest room, looking for spells they had forgotten—or potentially even learn something new.
What left an impression on them was that a lot of the tomes were not just old, but also seriously damaged. They were severely charred, making their leather covers nearly unreadable, and some of them even had entire chunks burnt off. They had likely been salvaged from some kind of fire. Even so, they proved to be immensely useful.
After having looked through most of the tomes over the past days, Dusekkar’s curiosity got the better of them and they decided to finally check the strange trinkets scattering the shelves at the far side of the room. There were Throwing Sporks with Bombo’s Army Knives attached to them, which made for the ultimate throwing knives; or multiple Gravity Coils welded together to create a tool that would allow you to jump to the moon; or a supercharged Red Hyperlaser Gun that could shoot as fast as a machine gun, which would allow it to eliminate entire crowds in seconds. All of those were illegally modified gears which could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. In Robloxia there was a strict rule about not modifying any gears, as doing so would be considered exploiting—this was exactly why.
Dusekkar’s mouth was agape as he stood there holding items that could get him banned. He had helped shut down an illegal gear trafficking ring from this same area a year ago, but it was suspected that there were a few stragglers the admins couldn’t identify and terminate—so what if Cerulean had been one of them? If he were still an admin, he would’ve terminated her on the spot and deleted all the items—but he had lost all ability to do that after his resignation. She had put so much trust in a stranger like him, allowing him to sleep in a room full of gears capable of causing mass destruction—she didn’t care about the risk of him being an admin or a law enforcer. He, however, didn’t think he could trust her so easily anymore after this discovery.
She was a terrible person—or at least, it seemed that way from the lens of an admin. However, from the lens of a human being, she was nothing but noble and generous—and she had literally saved his life. As much as he wanted to resent her as he resented every other adherer to the Spawn, or every other black-market dealer, he couldn’t bring himself to think negatively of her. If he wanted to repay his debt after having been saved, he had no choice but to trust her as much as she trusted him.
Dusekkar decided they would ask her about those illegal gears, but not delve mush deeper than that. Having nothing better to do, they went to tend to her garden.
It was already dark when Cerulean returned home. She was visibly exhausted, the way she was slouched over and how she could barely keep her eyes open. Her left wrist was wrapped in a fresh set of bandages and her staff had sustained cuts—but she didn’t seem that much worse than usual.
“Ceru, welcome back!” the pumpkin smiled. They had put on one of the guardian’s aprons, which had a blue lattice pattern. It was a little small for them, but they wore it with confidence. “I made soup—hopefully it makes for a worthy snack.”
“Ah...” She looked at them, unsure of how to react—it was rare for her to receive kind gestures like this. She put on a faint smile and muttered, “Thank you.”
Dusekkar served the soup bowls on the coffee table (since Cerulean usually ate alone, such a small table would suffice). Afterwards, they walked up to the fireplace and grabbed one of the wooden stakes piled next to it. Lighting a fire was trivial for them: they shoved it in their eyehole to ignite it, allowing them to light the fireplace as well. The other mage simply stared at them, in half surprise and half awe. For the first time in her life, she wished she had a flame inside of her as well.
Meanwhile, Cerulean plopped down on the edge of the sofa, letting its old leather cushions consume her. Her entire body ached after an entire day of running around and shaking her staff, which left her stomach rumbling. She looked down at her soup and began to stir it. It was rich with all kinds of different flavours—maybe even a little too rich for her tastes. It was obvious Dusekkar had taken all kinds of different herbs and vegetables from her garden and thrown them in here, without following any particular recipe—and they had done a great job.
The pumpkin sat down next to her and started eating their soup without waiting for it to cool off. They were a little disappointed with how it had turned out—but looking at Cerulean’s pleased expression, they were at least satisfied that she liked it.
The two of them usually ate in silence; this was because the guardian was too tired to speak, and also because there was nothing much to say. Dusekkar greatly preferred quiet people over those who wouldn’t shut up, as time spent simply enjoying each other’s company felt the most genuine to them. The quiet crackling of the fireplaced meant more to them than any kind of small talk.
Cerulean was a very fast eater—she had finished her entire soup before Dusekkar had even finished half of theirs. She stood up and grabbed her staff before walking in front of where Dusekkar was sitting.
“Hey pumpkin, stand still. I wanna do something.”
They looked up at her. Oh no.
“W-W-What? But I’m still ea—”
She wildly swung the staff around before lunging it forward, which launched a small green bulb toward the pumpkin. As soon as it reached them, it exploded into a small cloud of green smoke dispersing through the air, which made them start violently coughing. The smoke was healing magic—but since it hadn’t been applied to any particular wound, it simply floated there.
“I did it wrong, didn’t I...?”
Dusekkar used his hands to fan the air and get that smoke away from him so he could breathe normally. Rather than being annoyed, he simply sighed and stood up.
“What you cast was Healing Cloud—but it had no wound to shroud. Try again, aim for my stomach and not my face, and move the staff slowly so the projectile is bigger than a grain.”
“Oh...”
He had learned this spell long ago, but he didn’t remember how or where. He wasn’t even capable of using healing magic effectively, but as soon as he saw Ceru mess it up, it suddenly came back to him. He removed his apron, making his bloody bandages visible.
The forest guardian tried to process everything she’d been told, visualising how to do it in her head. After a bit of deliberation, she did the same movements but with more precision, which produced a slightly bigger bulb that hit the wound with good accuracy. When it exploded, most of the healing particles were immediately absorbed by the wound, helping it speed up with its recovery.
“That was better, but you still have a long way to go. Your aim is good, but you should improve your flow.”
“Actually, I think I’m just too tired. I’ve used enough magic for today.” There was a hint of frustration in Cerulean’s voice—she had never put much thought in the casting process of her spells and she wasn’t used to being criticised. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Goodnight... Ah, a moment, please. I have a request to ask.”
Dusekkar didn’t care to make a rhyme, which is how she could tell it was important. He seemed somewhat apprehensive about it, trying to avoid her eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“Would it be okay if I extended my stay...? After I have recovered fully, I mean.”
Cerulean didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Yes. I’ve been feeling pretty lonely, and you make good company. But don’t you have anywhere else to go?”
“I don’t. I was made to abandon my home. I cannot go back.”
“So that’s why you came here, huh? But what happened?”
“I was being harassed. And my job was making me very stressed.”
“I see...”
“...”
“Goodnight, pumpkin.”
“Goodnight, Ceru.”
Notes:
She doesn't really like being called Ceru. but Dusekkar does it anyway. He's just that mean :(
also next chapter will be a Taph chapter hehehehehehehehehe
Chapter Text
It had only been 5 days since Dusekkar’s disappearance, and yet it was already beginning to break Taph. Even getting out of bed and going to work was starting to become a struggle as he realised had nothing to look forward to. It was just work. Endless work.
On this day, he was expected to demolish 71 houses of terminated accounts from all over Robloxia. And that was just in his morning shift. Normally he had to destroy about 100 houses a day, but as terminations have surged due to Doombringer’s stricter laws, as well as admins choosing him over other demolitionists due to his expertise, that number had jumped to 160 every day.
Taph’s speed and efficiency was unlike that of anybody else. While most demolitionists used heavy machinery, he was given cutting-edge smart explosives developed by Builderman himself that minimised the risk of damage to surrounding buildings. In seconds, Taph could identify key areas to place explosives, and he would install them as quickly as he could. When he detonated them, the rubble would be in clean chunks, making it easy for the clean-up crews to take care of it later. Something that required days and entire teams, he did in a matter of 2 minutes, saving hundreds of costly man-hours with every single house he destroyed.
In other words, Taph was the answer to redundant housing. Despite working 13 hours every day without fail, he was barely paid a living wage, and his superiors didn’t treat him very well. You would think, “if I were him I would’ve quit already!” Well, he couldn’t. It’s true that he was legally allowed to leave—but the admins made him believe that he was being treated normally and that he had nowhere else to go. All Taph knew was work and obey the admins, so it would be hard for him to start a life without that.
After 6 hours of labour, the demolitionist drove back to the Roblox HQ for his well-deserved lunch break. Every day, 13:00, for 1 hour. He was allowed in the admins’ exclusive restaurant where they prepared all sorts of luxurious gourmet meals, such as fish and chips, or deep-fried chicken nuggets, or even garlic... Well, the menu was mostly suited to the admins’ cravings—but they had hired some of the best chefs in the capital to prepare them. The place was almost empty, with there only being a couple of lower-tier programmers and law enforcers.
His stomach rumbling, Taph got his first meal for the day: the usual order of a turkey sandwich with a cup of black coffee. Food in hand, he instinctively walked over to the balcony, expecting a familiar figure to wait for him. He opened the door but didn’t see it immediately. He took a couple of steps and looked around, but there was nobody in sight. Only the towering skyscrapers surrounding the HQ. The demolitionist remembered that Dusekkar was missing, and he was not coming back. He’d always waited for him to appear, he had even checked his home to check if he was there—but alas, the pumpkin was nowhere to be seen.
He had the feeling in his gut that he was never going to see him again.
Taph clenched his hands into fists and kicked the ground in frustration. The anger he felt was palpable—and he didn’t even know where it was coming from. But after a couple of seconds, all he could feel was inconsolable sorrow. The only question he wanted to ask him was, why? That stabbing feeling from when Dusekkar left—it was still just as fresh as that moment 5 days prior. Even with that open wound in his soul, he had to look past it and keep working like there was nothing wrong.
But everything was wrong. The entire world felt like it had been upside down since then. And Taph had never told him how he really felt. He had never even told him a single thank you for everything he’d done for him.
Even when none of the admins cared about Taph or wanted to be with him, Dusekkar always served as a voice for him and tried to make him feel included. No matter who was scolding him for doing a mistake, Dusekkar would always stand up for him and make them stop. Whenever his schedule seemed too harsh, Dusekkar would always appoint crews of other demolitionists instead in order to ease him a little. Taph thought he could handle all of the pressure put on him, but Dusekkar would still do anything in his power to defend him and make his life just a little bit easier. Nobody else had done that for him.
Even though the demolitionist wasn’t able to speak, even though he wasn’t even given the privilege of having a face—Dusekkar was the only one able to see the person in him, while everybody brushed him off as a rule-abiding robot. He was the only person who had seen the pumpkin’s most vulnerable side—his weaknesses that he did his best to hide from everybody else.
Taph felt like he had overstepped his boundaries—after all, this was nothing but his superior. Dusekkar was supposed to give orders, and he was supposed to obey them. He hated how attached he had become to somebody who was nothing but a boss. He hated how without him, he could no longer fend for himself. Without Dusekkar, nobody would be there to see his humanity, and so it would slowly start to vanish, and he would end up as nothing but a soulless slave.
So why? Why did he have to disappear? Before he even realised it, Taph was in tears again. Goddammit. Nobody must see him like this. He wiped his face with his sleeve and turned to walk back to the inside of the restaurant.
However, as soon as he looked up, he saw it: there was a hulking figure in the way. At first he thought it could be Dusekkar—but no. Instead of those majestic antlers he had horns, and instead of a pumpkin there was a red bucket on his head. This was none other than Mr. Doombringer—nobody else had fashion choices as weird as his (if you excluded Clockwork). The devilish grin permanently engrained in his face was there.
“Taph! You have time for a little chat, don’t ya?”
His voice was deep and commanding, which always shook the demolitionist to the bone—but this time, he seemed a lot friendlier than usual. Doombringer would rarely ever talk to him, even if it was just to give him orders, so he was caught off-guard.
Taph, caught off-guard, nodded rapidly—this was more of a reflex.
“Very well. But first, let’s sit somewhere—my legs are killing me.”
The demolitionist went to the table where he would usually eat—at the edge of the balcony, with the best view of the city. He sat on the chair against the wall and Doombringer sat on the other side of the table—Dusekkar’s usual spot. As if on cue, a server rushed over with a tray in his hand and gave the admin what he always had: two hard-shell tacos, doused in bright red hot sauce that seemed like it could take whatever it touched on fire. Doombringer, holding an old stopwatch in his hand, put it on pause and looked at the server.
“Twelve seconds, two hundred and seventy-eight milliseconds. Pretty good, kid. Now scram!”
“Y-Yes!”
The employee scurried away like a startled rat as Doombringer began munching on his lunch. This made Taph remember that he still hadn’t eaten, so he pulled down his bandana just enough to make his mouth functional, and then he unwrapped his turkey sandwich and took a big bite of him. It saddened him how what was supposed to be his favourite food, prepared by the best chefs, now tasted so bland. All food was beginning to taste bland. Meanwhile, Doombringer was chewing loudly, savouring every single bite of spice—even if his tongue was activating its fire alarms and begging him to stop.
After finishing the first taco at lightning speeds, he licked his lips so he doesn’t waste all that remaining hot sauce, before wiping his face with a handkerchief like a sophisticated gentleman. And then, a thunderous burp.
“Ah... Food’s the only thing keeping me going these days,” the admin grinned, leaning back on his chair and putting his hands behind his head like a pillow. “I’m sure you get it, boy.”
Taph simply looked at him, to acknowledge that he’d heard him. He couldn’t agree—he was starting to get sick of these superficial, sensory pleasures.
“I came back here for the same reason I always come here: the other admins are pissed at me again. Those jackasses have no idea how the world should be run. We are supposed to be the ones at the top; people are supposed to obey us—but they are willing to sell away their power and dignity just to make some extra cash. Whenever I advocate for stricter rules, they all glare at me and say that the people won’t be happy. I know you trust them, boy, but those corrupt fools are the reason we’ve got so much crime around here. They’re the reason you got so many houses to destroy.”
Taph tilted his head to the side, unsure of what to think. He had never been told what was happening between the admins nor any decisions they made. They would intentionally keep him out of the loop so he couldn’t form any opinion about them, and Doombringer knew that. He was telling him all of this because he needed someone to vent to—but also because he wanted to get back at them in a way.
The buckethead pulled out a huge cigar and put it in his mouth. It took him several tries to ignite it with his lighter, which made him impatient.
“Oh, how I miss Dusekkar... He would let me shove my cigars in his eye to light them.”
As soon as Taph heard the mention of Dusekkar, his interest was immediately grabbed.
“Anyway, it feels like the guy was one of the only admins worth their salt. The other ones are all incompetent: Builderman is too overcome with stress to work properly; StickMasterLuke only cares about his own masterpiece, The Cataclysm, which is never even gonna be finished; Clockwork is so obsessed with his own image and he spends more time bragging about his lifestyle than doing actual admin work; the brothers, Seranok and Merely, are too preoccupied with their own game and I barely even see them around here anymore. Except me, this only leaves Shedletsky, who has always left a bitter taste in my mouth. He always seems so confident and capable, but in reality all he wants is power and glory. Out of everyone, I detest him the most.
Dusekkar was the only one who held everything together, he was the only one who pushed the others to actually do something. Now that he’s gone, I am the only one with a true sense of justice, and it is going to be my job to take over his role. I’m sure he would be proud of me.”
Taph shook his head.
"🪣👿➡🎃❌. 👐👥➡🎃❌."
He enacted a set of gestures in order to try to tell him something, but Doombringer didn’t seem to understand. He impatiently tapped his fingers on the table.
“What? I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me, boy.”
He wanted to explain to him what he really thought, but he didn’t have the voice, and nobody had taught him any kind of sign language. He had developed his own set of gestures, but few people could comprehend them, especially when it came to abstract ideas. It was frustrating.
“Hmph. Shedletsky made a blunder by not letting ya speak. Take this.”
The admin fetched an expensive-looking fountain pen from his breast pocket and tossed it to Taph. The demolitionist gladly took it and jotted something down on a paper napkin, before sliding the pen and the message back to him.
Nobody can replace him. Not even you.
Doombringer laughed. “Has anybody taught ya proper handwriting? That’s chicken scratch!” Then, his smile vanished as he read the note once again. If another admin had told him this, he would laugh in their face—but even somebody as naïve as Taph was able to see this. He sighed. “Sadly, I think you’re right. Dusekkar may not have been nearly as competent as me, but his ability to solve conflicts was equal to none.
But there’s also another reason for this. Let me tell ya, he is not the man you think he is. There is a very specific reason Builderman insisted on hiring him as an admin so quickly, and I’m the only other person who knows. He may try his damnedest to appear wise—and that’s because he is.”
Before Taph could react, he noticed somebody walk up to the two of them. It was none other than Shedletsky. As soon as Doombringer noticed him, his snarky expression immediately came back and he took the cigar out of his mouth
“Why hello there, ol’ chum. What’s your problem now? Have ya come to ridicule me again?”
“Doom, it’s not the time for this right now.” His face was dead serious—this was a rarity for him.”
“Oh? What’s wrong, chicken boy?”
“It’s urgent. It is here.”
“Huh!? You don’t mean—”
“Yes.”
“But how—”
“I’ll explain later. Now get up. And you...” Shedletsky walked over to Taph, who was still trying to finish his turkey sandwich. “You stop slacking off. You’ve got a lot of work to be doing, but recently all you’ve been is worthless.”
On that note, he grabbed Doombringer by the hand and stormed off. The buckethead managed to utter a single goodbye, leaving behind an uneaten biological hazard of a taco.
Taph had so many questions—but with nobody able to hear them, and nobody willing to answer them. Every single time Shedletsky or anybody else talked to him like this, he felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach. He really was worthless, and he couldn’t stop making mistake after mistake. It was all because Dusekkar was no longer here.
He needed to look for him. Even if it was hopeless, even if it was going to drain him, Taph needed to find him and see him again. If things stayed the way they did, he wouldn’t be able to handle things for much longer.
And so, Taph started searching.
Notes:
I LOVE WRITING DOOMBRINGER AND i lowkey want to make him a bigger part of the story (even though this story was already complicated enough)
this was initially supposed to be just a pumpkintrap fic (because i love them so much jnnjkgfds) but i think i accidentally created a monster
oh well !
i know that this fic is gonna take me the entire summer and i've embraced that fact
Chapter 6
Notes:
For anyone who read chapter 5 before this, I made a couple of small edits around the end:
I removed Shedletsky mention of the Void Star because involving it would create a whole another mess, and I also made Taph speak in emojis (I only added one line of his)
thank you all for coming this far! enjoy!!
Chapter Text
Every moment Taph didn’t spend working, he spent looking for them. Driving everywhere with his so-called by Shedletsky Explode-mobile, going from house to house knocking on doors just to show them one picture: an old, cut out photo of Dusekkar, with a note saying, “Have you seen this person?”, written in his usual chicken scratch.
The picture had been from that time the two of them had gone to a photo booth together, posing like idiots. Dusekkar was wearing a Santa hat, sticking their tongue out and making a V sign. Taph (who had been cropped out) was wearing an elf hat; his hand was still visible embracing the pumpkin from behind. It had been Christmas of last year, one of the few instances Taph had the opportunity to see them out of work. It was a gathering of the admins to treat themselves, and Dusekkar had insisted on bringing the demolitionist along. He looked back on those moments very fondly—but now, it was a struggle not to make the emotions flood back as he flaunted that photo around town.
*
Knock knock...
I have no clue who that is, don’t bother me.
*
Knock knock...
And who the hell are you? Get outta my face.
*
Knock knock...
Zibzabzibzob glip glorp sploinck?
*
Knock knock...
I recognise him, that’s Matt Dusek! You could find him at the Roblox HQ.
*
Knock knock...
Wait, you’re the one who blew up my grandma’s house, aren’t you?
The woman did nothing! You should be ashamed!
...
*
Knock knock...
...
No response.
After a couple of seconds, the houseowner loudly closed their window and pulled down the shutters.
Taph clenched his fists, which made the photo in his hand crumple even more. Another dead end, huh. He walked away and sat down on the sidewalk, hugging his knees. He was exhausted. It was already 1 in the morning, and he had to be at work at 7. He’d already looked all over the capital, so he’d travelled to a neighbouring city—but once again, there was no such luck. A week of searching, every day for entire evenings, but no matter where he went, he would just be pushed away.
The demolitionist felt the urge to give up. But then, he looked at the photo once more. Oh, how much he missed their silly smile. Their botched rhymes. Their gentle touch. That soft warmth emanating from them. Taph wanted to travel back to when he was able to spend time with them and appreciate these moments more. He wanted to tell them how much it truly meant to them. But now...
“You’re still looking for them, aren’t you?”
A chilling, echoing voice made all of his thoughts stop in their tracks. It sounded almost unhuman. Taph stood up and turned around. It was an anthropomorphic figure that looked vaguely familiar, but only vaguely. Its skin on its limbs and head was pitch black like the night, making its facial features nearly unrecognisable, except for its glowing red eye which could be seen from a mile away. Its green domino crown on its head glittered ominously, as well as the two swords it was wielding. Normally Taph would be intimidated and run away, but strangely, this creature didn’t seem to have bad intentions.
“I’m looking for Dusekkar as well... No idea where they could’ve gone.”
Taph instinctively took a step back—the entity was standing too close for comfort. Without paying attention, he signed exactly what he was thinking:
“🫵❓👤”
Who are you?
“Who am I? Well, my name is 1x1x1x1. That pumpkin is an old friend. I need to speak to them.”
The demolitionist was pleasantly surprised that it was able to understand his signs with ease—but at the same time, it also unnerved him a little. And just how did it manage to find him? But those questions all disappeared once he realised it could assist him with finding Dusekkar.
“1️⃣✖️🤝💣❓”
1x help Taph?
“Of course I’m willing to help you. Those slackers known as the admins couldn’t be bothered to look out for one of their fellows. You are the only one who cares, Taph. You are more of an admin than they ever will be.”
Those words awoke something in the demolitionist. It was right: if they really did care, they would’ve already started looking for him, would they not? And what if they knew the real reason, but didn’t tell him? What if they had fired him? What if they saw him as a threat and got rid of him? He could feel rage build up in him again, but he managed to control himself.
“❓👆1️⃣✖️📖🙌... 👐⏩💣”
How does 1x know so much about Taph?
He wanted to ask it something, but he had a hard time thinking of which gestures to use to make itself clear. He feared it wouldn’t understand him. Thankfully, it did.
“The reason I know so much about you is because Dusekkar has told me a lot. He admires you very much and he would love it if you manage to find him. I believe that he misses you just like how you miss him. He’s not the type to make impulsive decisions like resigning suddenly so I’m sure you’ll be able to change his mind if you talk to him. My entire days are free; I can take care of the search during the day, and I’ll accompany you during the night.”
A flame of newfound hope ignited in Taph, as this ominous stranger opened his eyes to the truth. It was his duty to find him, as he likely regretted resigning like this. Not only that—he finally wasn’t alone. He had a lot of trust in 1x1x1x1 because he knew Dusekkar confided in it as well.
“I’ll meet you tomorrow morning and I’ll tell you a more cohesive plan to find him. Until then, farewell.”
Taph could only wave it goodbye as the creature walked backwards and disappeared into the darkness, only its glowing red eye remaining visible. In the end, even it fell into obscurity.
* * *
After a relatively restful night of sleep, the demolitionist got his coffee went to the Roblox HQ like any normal day. The summer sun was already out, giving the surrounding skyscrapers a bright yellow glow. Once again, he rode the elevator to the top floor—the admins’ office—to get his list of houses to destroy. There were only two people in the room: Builderman, neatly cushioned on an office chair that looked so cosy it could be considered the throne of office chair, and Doombringer, sitting on the big roundtable next to him, talking about something. They both seemed gravely serious; the atmosphere felt thick and sullen. Taph thought he might be interrupting something, so he quietly hid behind the door and started closing it...
“Oi, Taph!” Builderman shouted, as soon as he noticed his presence. “C’mere, nobody’s gonna kill ya!”
All of a sudden, they were both smiling like there was nothing wrong. The demolitionist wearily walked into the office and went up to the head admin.
“Good mornin’, fella! Here’s yer work for today. I ain’t doubtin’ you’re gonna do a great job once again.”
He casually handed him over a big folder full of different addresses. If every single folder he’d ever received from him was put together, it would probably fill up this entire room, floor to ceiling.
Normally, Builderman wouldn’t utter another word and the demolitionist would quicky go do his work—but today, he seemed to be a little extra talkative.
“So, have ya been doin’ well recently? I’ve noticed you’ve kinda been strugglin’ with doin’ everythin’ on time. You even had to work overtime yesterday. So, what has been concernin’ you, bud?”
“❌🙅⛔️”
“Nothin’ is wrong, ya say...”
Doombringer gave Taph a perplexed glare. He knew he was lying.
“Still,” Builderman continued, “if ya ever feel overwhelmed, don’t forget to tell me. Ya need to be in yer best state to do the best work, after all!”
The hooded man quickly nodded and rushed out of the office.
He admired Builderman very much, even more so than Dusekkar in some ways. Despite his inability to deal with stress, he had the charisma and skills required to be a true leader. He was the one who gave him most of his work orders, which is why Taph liked to think of himself as his right-hand man of sorts. However, Builderman was often pretty cold and unwelcoming to him—but he figured it was just because he was stressed.
Today, he showed a lot more concern than he usually did, which made the demolitionist feel hopeful that he was finally starting to care about him more. At the same time, though, Taph hated showing any kind of weakness or being seen as vulnerable; doing that made him feel like a clam being forced out of its shell. He was the best at his job out of all demolitionists alive, and he needed to be able to prove that—showing how tired it all made him would be unacceptable. His own comfort didn’t matter: as long as he was useful to everybody, he was satisfied.
There was another reason he couldn’t tell Builderman how he was feeling: he distrusted him now. He tried to get 1x1x1x1’s words not to affect him too much—but it had been completely right. The admins hadn’t told him anything about Dusekkar’s disappearance, and until he found him, he wouldn’t be able to trust them.
The first house Taph had to demolish was only a couple minutes away from the HQ. It was that of a small-time developer that had intentionally answered the maturity rating tests for his game wrong too many times, which led to his permanent ban. He sighed. This was going to be a long day...
Chapter 7
Notes:
i kinda got uhh,, a little sidetracked with this chapter...
and it's probably for the better hehe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
22 o’ clock. The Roblox HQ had gone from bustling to quiet. Taph had already clocked out 30 minutes ago, and the only people left in the building were the custodians and a couple of admins. The flickering window of Shedletsky’s private office was one of few remaining in the tower that were still bright. The wall TV was turned on, showing a rerun of the evening news.
The random murders all over Robloxia keep growing; 23 people have lost their lives this past week. Over the past month, a total of 67 people has been killed in what now stands as one of the worst serial killings in history. All victims died the same way: a single blade wound to the heart, with varying signs of struggle. The involvement of multiple killers has been proposed, but the leading theory is that it was all done by the same person. There is no specific age, gender, or social class being targeted—the murders are cold, calculated, and indiscriminate. No possessions have been stolen from the victims, so this is likely a crime of passion.
Roblox admin Shedletsky has stated that the situation is under control and law enforcers are prioritising on cracking down on these killings as soon as possible. Until then, remember to stay safe. Keep your doors locked, always bring self-defence tools, and—
Doombringer turned off the TV with the remote control before tossing it aside. He turned back to Shedletsky, who was sitting in his chair innocently, and scowled at him.
“So tell me, pal,” Doombringer growled, “how long do you intend to keep this charade up?”
To the both of them, the culprit of these killings was already clear: it was 1x1x1x1. A creature able to feel nothing but fear, sadness and pure hatred, it needed to act up on its feelings and spread them—this gave it a sense of completion. Ever since it had escaped the Banlands a month prior, it has been on a rampage, and the only ones who knew were the two men in this room. Doombringer had also told Builderman, but there wasn’t much he could do. Ever since Dusekkar’s resignation, everybody had become even more reliant on Shedletsky than they had been before.
The brown-haired man stood up from his chair and sauntered over to him, his expression being completely nonchalant and even a little smug.
“I already said it, Doom,” Shedletsky shrugged, “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Under control, eh? People are dying out there, most Robloxians are too scared to go out, and my reputation is getting tarnished! And you’re saying that everything is under control!?”
He stomped on the ground in anger so violently that it made the room tremble; one of the picture frames hung on the wall even started shaking. In it was an award for most consecutive rounds won in SFOTH. Coincidentally, Shedletsky was also the one who founded SFOTH.
“Doom, calm down, man. You say that killing, what, not even 100 people is terrible? Why, you terminate that many accounts in a matter of hours—it should be nothing new to you, dude. Here’s a question: do you know why I created 1x1x1x1?”
“It’s obvious: it’s all for your own self-interest. You want a life with no stress, no negative emotions, and so you toss all of it onto this unfortunate creature. You disgust me.”
Doombringer scoffed and turned his back to the other admin, not even bearing to look at him. Despite his intimidating presence, he would normally remain composed—but on the rare occasions he did lose his temper, it was hard not to listen to his every word. However, Shedletsky was different. Despite Doombringer towering almost 2 feet over his measly 5’7 stature, he couldn’t feel even an inkling of fear.
“Do you know what my inability to feel negative emotions makes me? Unstoppable. A god.”
Shedletsky’s words were chilling, and his voice—completely emotionless. This apathy struck a chord in Doombringer, and he turned around as the other man continued speaking.
“I never feel tired, I never get bored or dull, I don’t lose my shit when something goes my way like how you do... In short, I have mastered the power of positivity. All around me are nothing but good vibrations. If there is a problem, I don’t let it get to me, and I simply use cold, harsh logic to fix it. Whether you’ve realised it or not, I have become the backbone of the admins, and all of you would not be able to function without me. I am the one responsible for finalising all decisions, for accepting business deals, for managing events... And as I keep getting stronger, I’ll be able to do everything by myself. I won’t need any of you anymore.
No, I’m not doing this for myself. Do you think I enjoy living a life I spend working 20 hours a day, 7 days a week? No. I may not feel stressed, but I do feel quite empty. I’m doing this because people need me. They need a superhuman to guide them, a superhuman to look up to—and I am willing to be that superhuman. You may think I’m sacrificing innocent lives and dooming 1x1x1x1 to a life of infinite suffering—but I’m also sacrificing my own humanity and freedom in order to give them a sense of order and safety. Don’t you get it? I’m the martyr in all of this.”
Doombringer looked at Shedletsky in complete shock. This was not the coy, cheerful doofus that he knew—instead, his sheer mental strength had turned him into a psychopath. Even though they often had conflicting views, he missed being able to casually talk to him and mess around with him every once in a while. Now, it seemed like they had nothing but conflicts—and that made the buckethead despise him.
“Shed, you’re out of your fucking mind. You’re absolutely delusional to think this is what people want. There is no order nor safety—everybody is fearing for their lives as you’re letting this creature run amok. Who knows how bad things would’ve become if Dusekkar hadn’t caught wind of it and terminated it last year? It was thanks to his magic that 1x wasn’t able to find a backdoor all this time. Now that it has manipulated him into resigning, terminating it is futile as it will keep coming back. You’re the only one who can get rid of it by slaying it and becoming Telamon again, and the only reason you aren’t doing it is because of those delusions that you’re doing society a favour. How out of touch can you be!?”
As Doombringer was reprimanding him, Shedletsky sat back on his squeaky-clean desk and started munching from his box of chicken nuggets.
“It seems my message can’t get to your thick skull, now, can it? Suppose you get the same opportunity as me. You’re put through so much pressure—not only do you have to do your duties as an admin, but you also have to manage the faction of The Swords and also be there for your family. In the end, it all becomes so much that all of your negativity takes a form of its own; a completely separate entity from you. And all of a sudden, you’re able to do all of this without even breaking a sweat. Would you make use of this golden opportunity, or would you throw it away and go back to being utterly miserable? I know you very well, Doom—don’t try to claim that you’d rather suffer. In my place, everybody would do what I did, even the ones you respect. But...”
Shedletsky paused for a couple of seconds and looked down at his human hands. He realised that his logic wasn’t making much sense. Doombringer was right: he really was selfish. Just because most people would make this decision didn’t mean that it was the morally right one. For the first time in this encounter, his face had become sullen and drowning in thoughts.
“I don’t want you to see me as some sort of irredeemable monster, Doom. Honestly... it pains me that you do, more than I’d like to admit. You know, 1x has told me that one of the most overwhelming feelings it has is fear of disapproval, specifically coming from you. I don’t get it.”
The buckethead went quiet. He looked at him completely dumbfounded, as if somebody had just told him they had better spice tolerance than him. He had many questions in his mind, but he only asked the least important one:
“Wait, 1x has told you? Do the two of you have contact?”
“Yeah, we communicate occasionally. As much as it hates me, we have agreed not to hurt each other for now, so you could say we are in cahoots. Anyways, the biggest emotion 1x is experiencing is guilt. Guilty for its own existence. Your constant criticism is the reason for most of it. There’s also the fact that my wife left me as soon as she found out what I did. From the looks of it, 1x still hasn’t gotten over it. I know I know I’m doing something wrong, but I’m powerless to fix it. I can’t go back to being Telamon.”
Doombringer walked over to Shedletsky’s desk and leaned over to look directly into his eyes, resting his hands on the desktop.
“Your attempts to make me feel pity for you are nothing but cheap,” he scoffed. “And your egoism sickens me. I’m not having any of this.”
The buckethead turned to leave—but a tug on his arm stopped him. Shedletsky had stood up and tried to prevent him from leaving.
“Doom, I do care about you—even if it’s hard for me to show it. It’s true that there’s a lot of friction between us because of our differences, but what I’ve always wanted is for us to just get along.”
“Oh, give me a break.”
Doombringer forcefully pushed Shedletsky away and angrily trudged to the door. However, right as he was about to walk out, he turned his head back.
...
“I care about you too, Telamon. But I hate to see you like this. I miss the human side of you.”
Afterwards, he slammed the door behind him.
* * *
It was the middle of the night. Taph was driving his Explode-mobile, 1x1x1x1 sitting in the front seat, in the middle of the highway, without going in any particular direction. The usual 20-hour drum-and-bass/breakcore mix was blasting from the radio, the rapid beats providing him just the necessary amount of stimulation to keep him going.
It had already been a month, and the demolitionist had lost track of where they had looked and where they hadn’t. They didn’t have to get out of the vehicle most of the time because 1x was able to see people’s auras from afar thanks to its unstable eye, allowing it to see Dusekkar’s distinctive shape from a distance. However, there had been no such luck.
Taph was inexplicably obsessed with them. And yet, he was slowly starting to forget about them with each passing day. The little quirks about them were beginning to get clouded like a fog. He was starting to forget why he needed to find them, he just needed that he did. All the pain was going to go away if he was in their embrace. It felt like being stranded in the vast ocean, desperate to find land.
The demolitionist had almost run out of places to look. He tried to ask the admins if they knew where Dusekkar could’ve possibly gone, but all of them either didn’t know or refused to answer. 1x had been right—all of them were useless.
Even though 1x1x1x1 spent a lot of time with him, Taph didn’t feel a very strong attachment to it. It barely talked to him, and when it did, it was either a complaint or an order, or ranting against the admins. Taph had tried to get it to tell him more about the pumpkin since it knew them, but it would ignore him every time. Despite this, it was always reliable and helpful. It would drive Taph home whenever he felt too exhausted to drive, and it would bring him food after a long day of work whenever he needed it. He’d learned to appreciate 1x for everything it did to him—but it lacked the soul that Dusekkar or even Builderman had. Out of nowhere, 1x’s hissing voice interrupted the hooded man’s stream of thoughts.
“Taph... Stop the car, please...”
It looked to be in pain, clutching its stomach for dear life.
“👐👍❓”
Is everything good?
“Yeah... I just need a bit of fresh air.”
Taph stopped at the nearest curb and the two got out of the car. 1x1x1x1 tried to take deep breaths, but it wasn’t long until it collapsed to its knees. Its entire body was shaking and streaks of glowing green tears started erupting from its face. It tried to utter something, but all that came out were incomprehensible cries and screams. Only two words could be made out amidst this white noise of writhing in agony:
“That... bastard...!”
The demolitionist immediately rushed over to 1x, kneeling down and embracing it from behind. He wanted to help it in any way he could, just like how it had been helping him. How oblivious, the entity thought. His futile attempts to comfort it were somehow making it feel even worse—it was making him care so much for no reason.
However, that was quickly drowned out by the sheer shitstorm of emotions its creator was experiencing. Uncertainty, longing, guilt, shame, disgust... He was prone to making it have outbursts like this, but now 1x felt like it was moments away from death. It was going to pass away in Taph’s arms, who had no clue what was even happening.
The two of them stayed like this for a while.
Notes:
Yes, I really did project my weird music taste onto Taph, and I regret nothing
also don't worry i haven't forgotten about Dusekkar and Cerulean :3
Chapter Text
Dusekkar was starting to get used to his quiet lifestyle in the cabin. His daily routine was simple: practise magic, tend to Cerulean’s garden and cook meals. He didn’t miss his old lifestyle at all—but there was still a certain emptiness in his soul. The faint feeling of guilt was encroaching him like a poisonous smog, making it hard to think very highly of himself. He’d let all of the admins down. He’d most likely let 1x1x1x1 break free. He’d made Taph cry. God, what a pathetic being he was.
Cerulean was able to distract him and counteract these feelings, but that’s only because she trusted him. Meanwhile, he lied to her. If she learned he’d been an admin and what he’d done, she would never be able to forgive him.
As he was zoning out, reality suddenly slapped Dusekkar like a whip. He found himself sitting on a deckchair in the garden, with a magic tome in his hands—one about learning to tame familiars. It was open on the page for a spell called Enable Speech, which allowed animals to express their thoughts just like people. A peculiar question popped up into his mind: would this be able to work on humans as well?
No, it’s not like he was ever going to be able to use it on him.
...
Cerulean came home early today, when the sun was setting. She seemed as tired as always, plopping down on the sofa like a corpse. It was hard to imagine how much running around she must be doing every day. As always, Dusekkar lit up the fireplace and served tonight’s dinner: porridge with wild berries. It seemed more like a breakfast—but regardless, his meals seemed to get better and better by the day. This time he was wearing a yellow apron with a stylised duck face on it. It was Cerulean’s favourite apron, but she thought he looked hilarious in it so she let him keep it.
Despite how tired she was, she put a weak smile on her sickly face.
“Pumpkin. As I was opening the door, a little robin landed on my hand. And then, it spoke to me in the deepest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, asking me if I had any seeds. So, I wonder: do you have anything to do with this?”
“Oh, don’t look at me—your imagination sure isn’t weak.” He was smiling cunningly, not putting any effort into finding it.
“Sure, sure. Y’know, the amount of niche spells you can cast is starting to scare me. Like, I never know what to expect from you. A lot of the things you’ve taught me, I never know when I’ll ever have to use.”
Dusekkar stood up from the sofa where he’d been eating next to Cerulean and grabbed his staff.
“Sometimes, I even scare myself,” he said, as he cast a simple spell to turn the fireplace’s flames to a mellow green colour. “Until recently, my skills were like old, dusty shelves. One moment, sleep is what I’m trying to find; the next—another old spell springs back to mind. It makes me feel like an abandoned mill that can still grind. I truly wish I had never left this life behind.”
“I tell you, I’ve never really met a mage as experienced as you. You’re capable of some things that many of my oldhead teachers were not. I don’t understand why you would ever choose to be a citizen instead of staying here.”
“My memory from before my job is extremely blurry. I’ve been able to recall things, but they are not at all glary. I believe I’ve done some regretful things that I desperately want to forget, and erasure my entire past is what this cowardice begets. I may be immensely powerful, yes—but I haven’t reached this point through very pure ways.”
Cerulean had unconsciously grabbed her cane-shaped staff, fidgeting with it.
“I’ve been involved with some sketchy business too, just to get by. Honestly, it’s a miracle that I’m still alive and the admins haven’t gotten my ass terminated by now.”
Dusekkar gulped. He was trying to forget about her illegal gears—but she wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“Are you saying you’re a...”
“Yeah, I’m a criminal. If you’ve been snooping through your room, you might have seen some weird-looking gears. They’re illegal modifications, and some of them could cause a lot of destruction. I’m only keeping them with me because I couldn’t trust anybody else with them. Well, except for you. You don’t see like the kinda person to—”
While the guardian was carelessly fiddling with her staff, she accidentally cast a Summon Gubby spell, making a—you guessed it—a Gubby appear out of thin air. As soon as she felt the fuzzy little creature on her lap, she looked down at it and their eyes met. That uncanny, somewhat annoyed expression... it terrified her.
Cerulean shrieked in horror and scurried to the other side of the room, tossing the innocent rabbit aside. No sooner had the critter realised where in the world it’d found itself than it hopped over to the coffee table and started munching from her half-eaten porridge.
“Pumpkin! Stop that creature from eating my food! I’m begging you!”
Dusekkar had been roaring with laughter. He was so hysterical it was hard for him to breathe and it was starting to hurt. However, as soon as he noticed her giving him a death glare, he wordlessly rushed over to the Gubby to retrieve it in his arms, still trying to hold back his laughter. The rabbit didn’t realise it had been picked up so it started biting the mage’s thumb thinking it was food. He didn’t even flinch from this.
He tried to approach Cerulean to assure her that everything is fine, but she kept backing off until she hit a wall.
“No!” she screamed, looking at Gubby with sheer terror in her eyes as if it were the scariest cryptid she had ever encountered. “Keep that... vile thing away from me!”
“Come on now. You’ve created life; don’t act like it’s threatening you with a knife.”
“Don’t tell me how to act! It’s evil!”
Dusekkar sighed. He let Gubby stay on his hand it had been nibbling on as he reached for his staff. Then, he cast the new spell he’d learned today: Enable Speech. As the bolt of magic struck it, it quickly stuck its teeth out of the pumpkin’s thumb and looked straight at Cerulean, and with the most serious face possible, it uttered:
“Grey lady. Give more food. I like.”
“Dusekkar! What the hell did you do!?”
Before she could react, Gubby leaped off his hand and landed on her head. Those antlers looked edible, it thought—and so, it started nibbling on one of them. It wasn’t painful at all—it felt more like a massage—but despite that, she was freaking out even more and started running around the living room.
“Don’t be so blue, Ceru. I think it likes you!”
“Stop with your wisdom and do something!”
“Fine, fine...”
Dusekkar cast a simple spell to telekinetically pull the Gubby to him. As soon as it reached him, he hugged it, looking at it like it was a baby. It seemed to enjoy it.
“Bl-Blue pumpkin... Blehhhh...”
“Don’t worry; you’re safe from that human scary.”
The creature scratched its ear with the back of its foot.
“Want food.”
“I’ll get you, little friend.” He turned back to Cerulean, who looked absolutely shaken. “Shall I take it outside?”
“Yeah... Please do.” She coughed a couple of times as she was saying this, which was a little unusual.
Dusekkar grabbed his remaining porridge and went outside with the rabbit, leaving both it and the plate on the front porch. Gubby seemed satisfied.
When he returned, it appeared the guardian was trying to meditate. Her hair had been completely dishevelled by Gubby and if Dusekkar saw her come home looking like this, he would likely think she had nearly been killed once again. She had closed her eyes and kept uttering a certain phrase:
“Halt... and refrain... Halt... and refrain...”
“The beast is gone,” he announced, tapping her on the back. This made her open her eyes and get back to reality. “It has finally left you alone.”
“Oh, good. Don’t you know how much this terrified me?” There was obvious sarcasm in her voice, but she seemed too tired to get angry so all she did was scowl at him.
“You’ve faced creatures far deadlier, your magic expertise keeps growing steadier—why would you be so scared of a little bunny?”
“Look. Would you feel very nice if some rodent randomly started biting your antlers and running around your... uh... hypothetical hair?”
He let out a laugh.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind it—at the end of the day, it’s just a clueless rabbit.”
“A clueless rabbit that tried to fucking kill me!”
In the face of her pouting, he laughed harder. She reminded him of when he had been younger, spending so much time in the forest but being deathly afraid of any and every little creature. He had always been a coward, but had slowly become less of a coward.
“It just doesn’t seem fair. You always act like you’re somehow better than me. Trying to one-up me.”
This time, she really seemed serious. The pumpkin thought they were just messing around, but there was probably something deeper bugging her.
“Whatever do you mean? I’ve never tried to demean.”
“It feels that way. I was able to fend for myself before I let you live here and—”
“Would you prefer it if I left?”
“Never! It’s just... hard to get used to. You make me feel like I’ve been doing some things wrong my entire life.”
“I may be more experienced than you, but that doesn’t mean I’m necessarily the better one. Don’t try to compete with me, because that never has a good outcome. I don’t try to preach my power when I showcase certain spells—all I want is to teach.
“I know, but... Nobody has done so much for me. It’s hard for me to fully trust anyone, so forgive me if I get defensive for no reason.”
Trust. It was ironic how she said she didn’t trust him very much, but in reality she gave him more trust than he deserved. It made Dusekkar unconsciously smile a bit, in a self-deprecating fashion.
“Insecurity is your enemy; it’s something I also struggle with. Showing vulnerability is sometimes necessary—you shouldn’t treat it like a myth.”
“But... I can’t do that...”
As she said that, she started violently coughing, even though she was trying her absolute best to control herself and stop. She’d seemed a bit unwell the entire day, and Dusekkar could see there was something wrong.
“Don’t move.”
His face was drained of any emotion—he had become completely serious. He inched closer and grabbed her shoulders. Cerulean was taken aback.
“What are you trying to—”
At that moment, he touched her forehead with his own in an attempt to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, it was burning. He then tried to pull away—but their pairs of antlers had somehow interlocked, and it took him several attempts. When he looked at her again, her face was a few stages redder than it had been before.
“Your face is in flames; you have a fever. Try to rest the following days, don’t be a home leaver.”
“I’m not that bad. It’s going to be fine,” she said—but immediately after, she started coughing again.
“It’s clearly not. Please stay at home, or else you’re going to turn into a stack of bones.”
“I’ve worked while I was sick before—I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t be so concerned for me.”
“You’ve already been overexerting yourself, and you nearly get yourself killed every couple of days. I’m concerned because I don’t want you to die, Ceru.”
“I was supposed to die a long time ago, Dusekkar. I don’t even deserve to live.”
“Stop saying that.”
He turned his back to her, hiding his face—he was afraid the tears were going to come out. Every single time she alluded to her criminal past, he felt that same shock of discovering it once again.
Despite her lack of real social experience, Cerulean knew she had messed up in a way. She lightly tapped him on the shoulder.
“Look, I just don’t want people to be hurt because I’m not here for them. There are no other forest guardians, and so the cryptids are going to have a field day.”
Dusekkar turned his head back toward her.
“I can cover for you.”
“But you have no training! And—”
“My magic is more powerful than you think. I’ll manage without having my health sink.”
“B-But—”
“You saved my life, you gave me a place to stay—taking care of you is the least I may. You deserve some rest.”
“Fine...”
Cerulean was still reluctant to agree, but she knew that it would be impossible to convince him that she was fine. It felt so surreal to her, somebody worrying about her so much. It felt like something she’d only ever dreamed of—but now that she’d finally found a person like this, it made her feel terrible. Why?
It didn’t take long for the fever to get worse.
Notes:
oh how much i missed writing Dusekkar...
I kinda got sidetracked with this chapter as well but I like it more than what I originally planned
Don't worry, the real dusetaph action is coming in a couple of chapters... and I can't wait heheI have an important exam on the 15th (Cambridge English certificate) and so chapter 9 or 10 might take a bit longer to come out, I'm sorry for that!!
Chapter 9
Notes:
hi!!!!
I'm very sorry that this chapter took so long, I was stuck for ideas at first and I also had to get my exam over with (I think I did really well btw!!)
to make up for it, this one is LONG. And an absolute bombshell. Probably the turning point where the story goes from decently unhinged to completely insane. enjoy!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The following days, Cerulean would only get worse. Her fever would never go down and she had become completely bedbound. Normally she would rarely get, but whenever she did, she would be completely crippled; this time was no exception.
She felt pathetic. All she did was lie around while making somebody who deserved better take over her every duty and constantly tend to her. Dusekkar had no idea that she felt this way; she didn’t want to make their life even harder by telling them or making a fuss. They were selfless—a quality she seemed to lack.
The pumpkin tried their best to help cure Cerulean, making homemade remedies using herbs from her garden and also using healing spells on her. However, their areas of expertise were warding magic and sapping magic, whereas healing magic was a weakness of theirs and they couldn’t treat her very effectively. Despite that, all of their effort seemed to have an effect.
It was the early morning and Dusekkar was preparing themself for another day of dealing with cryptids. Up until recently, they were too scared to even go out with the fear of encountering somebody like Jason, however their confidence in their magical abilities had gone up and they had now been able to protect wanderers without struggling too much.
They quietly entered Cerulean’s room in order to deliver her breakfast: oatmeal mixed with different berries, along with a cup of forget-me-not tea. She was soundly asleep, softly snoring while buried under three different blankets. Even during summer, she refused to sleep with any fewer.
As Dusekkar was placing her breakfast on the nightstand, they noticed something odd. A magic tome that looked relatively new, with a cover made of black leather. They could tell from a glance that it was a compendium of black magic spells—ones that have a severe effect of one’s soul and can manipulate somebody’s existence itself. They took a quick look: Lifeforce Transfer, Energy Leech, Psychic Projection, and... What the hell is Summon Gubby doing in here? Those were all infamous spells the mage had heard of but never learned due to their extreme difficulty to pull off successfully and the sacrifices they require to have an effect. Actually... they might have used some of them. It was hard to recall.
Judging from the tome’s clean appearance, it had probably been purchased recently—but what would Cerulean want to do with this anyways? Perhaps she’d gotten it out of simple curiosity, or maybe she was looking to expand in a different direction despite knowing all the dangers? It was quite jarring, to say the least.
Dusekkar decided not to dwell on it. They left the house and stocked Gubby’s food bowl on the front porch with berries—its usual breakfast. Then, they headed to the forest.
The pumpkin used a spell to reveal people’s auras from afar, allowing him to spot anybody in danger—this was an indispensable tool in any forest guardian’s arsenal. It took some time until they found their first wanderer—a completely normal Robloxian who didn’t seem related to the Spawn cult. Having bright yellow skin and sporting a harmless smile on their bald face, anybody that knew them could recognise them as Noob. Cerulean would walk up to people like this and lead them to a safe place, keeping a watchful eye for cryptids; she knew the forest very well and kept track of the territories of certain cryptids. Dusekkar, however, had developed a different approach: he would stalk people from a distance in order not to be intrusive, and also because he felt safer not getting in the cryptid’s face. To prevent being heard, he quickly cast a spell to make himself levitate a few inches above the ground. This ability made moving around so convenient that he was surprised he hadn’t used it more when he’d been an admin.
Noob seemed to be foraging mushrooms, stopping by to pick them whenever they saw them. They looked somewhat experienced, able to differentiate edible ones from poisonous ones with a glance—but perhaps they weren’t aware of the creatures lurking in this forest.
After some time, Dusekkar could feel an ominous presence nearby. Noob was approaching an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods, which was coated in some kind of sticky red liquid. A sickly-sweet scent was coming from all around, enough so to make you gag—but Noob didn’t mind, as they had hit the mushroom jackpot; an assortment of them was growing every tree.
There was something lurking in that cabin, he could feel it. Its aura was clearly visible—and from the looks of it, this creature was twice the size of a normal human. The pumpkin quickly spun around his staff to shoot a Plasma Beam at him and make him sluggish—but that only seemed to anger him.
He ran out of the cabin’s giant jug-shaped entrance, revealing himself as the giant jug-shaped monster that he was, along with the muscular arms and legs attached to him. He really was a jug, one filled to the brim with that same red liquid that gave the area its signature stench. His face was nothing short of uncanny, consisting of bloodshot green eyes and a malevolent grin showcasing its full set of teeth. This was Kool Killer, a cryptid Dusekkar had heard of but never encountered in the flesh until now
Meanwhile, Noob had peacefully kneeled down picking out which mushrooms to take mushrooms. Taking advantage of their distraction, the anthropomorphic jug ran towards them with full force. When they turned back and noticed him, it was already too late.
“Oh, yeah! Can I axe you a question?” Kool Killer cried as it swung its weapon to chop their head clean off.
Noob could only scream in horror as they were about to be murdered by this hellspawn. To their surprise, however, the axe didn’t hit. A forcefield had formed around them, preventing anything from touching them. Dusekkar had cast Spawn Protection on them. It was his signature spell, the one he was always capable to use perfectly; ironic how he had learned it from the Spawn Cult of all places.
Kool Killer may look like a brainless killing machine, but he was more cunning than he led on. As soon as his axe didn’t land, he knew that somebody else had to be protecting them. He noticed the beam leading from Noob’s forcefield back to Dusekkar’s staff, which made him easily find the unknown guardian hiding behind a tree.
“Oh, yeah! Not so sneaky now, huh?”
Kool Killer launched itself forward to close the gap between them. The mage usually had a pretty easy time dealing with cryptids, but considering the jug’s sheer size and agility, he intimidated him quite a bit. Dusekkar had to think of a spell to cripple them on the spot—if he didn’t, he could be walking away in two pieces. His arm moved on instinct and he started trying to cast one of his most powerful sapping spells—but it needed many precise movements to activate and there wouldn’t be enough time before Kool Killer get to him.
As he swung his staff, he had to make a split-second decision to save his life. It felt like time itself had frozen and this moment was going to last for eternity. Kool Killer’s unnerving grin remained unchanging like rock, while Noob’s screams dispersed in the air. He had to think. What other spell begins with three upwards strokes and then a clockwise circle stroke...? Flame Barrier? No, he’d probably just run through it. What about... Mass Evaporation? Yes, that’s perfect here!
Dusekkar swung his staff a couple more times and thrusted it forward. At first, nothing seemed to be happening—but soon, the liquid inside Kool Killer’s jug started to rapidly dwindle, which made it start losing balance and fall over with a loud clank.
“You...”
Before he could utter anything else, the liquid remaining inside of him spilt on the grass before evaporating as well. All that was left of him was a shell containing red powder. He was likely not going to get up anytime soon and curse the world with his terrible puns.
As soon as Noob made sure Kool Killer really was incapacitated, they ran up to Dusekkar and hugged him tightly, which caught him even more off-guard than the encounter with the cryptid itself. They were crying like a child, only able to whine out a single phrase:
“Th-Th-Thank you...! Thank you...! Thank you...! Thank you...”
The pumpkin was overwhelmed, but they still hugged them back. When they pulled away, his shoulder was soaked with their snot and tears—but his robe had already gone through enough, so he didn’t mind.
After some more constant thanking and reassurance, Dusekkar led Noob to the nearest settlement where they could be safe. The entire way through, the Robloxian didn’t stop asking him questions about what it was like being a mage or how he managed to locate them or how he was able to levitate, all the while their eyes had a certain glint to them. They were nothing short of amazed by him, while the pumpkin could only awkwardly play along so he didn’t disappoint them. He was even beginning to struggle with his rhymes, which was a very rare occurrence.
Every single time Dusekkar had saved people, he couldn’t fully grasp just how important what he did really was. He’d encountered death many times and accepted it as something inexplicable and unpreventable, so delaying it isn’t that meaningful—but Noob’s overblown reaction made him feel differently. Most people were too shocked to even speak after being saved, but Noob wasn’t afraid to show their genuine feelings. Is that how everybody he’d saved thought of him?
The mage could feel a sense of pride in their chest. Perhaps this was how Cerulean felt every single time she did this as well. The feeling of being a hero was addictive. Dusekkar felt a little egotistical for doing it for such selfish goals, but that realisation was drowned out by all the other thoughts running through his head.
The sun had risen to the top of the sky right above the pumpkin, which indicated it was noon. They were floating back towards the cabin to check on Cerulean and make sure she was okay. The irritating chirping of the cicadas had become so ubiquitous that they didn’t even pay attention to it—but at one point, it suddenly stopped. This was definitely a little suspicious—it was a sign of a nearby cryptid. They quickly cast a spell to reveal the aura of nearby creatures, and sure enough, there was something quickly approaching. That shape... It looked like—
Before Dusekkar could do anything, the creature launched a pair of black daggers at them from afar, which hit them in the arm. They tried to run, but they couldn’t move a single muscle—they had been paralysed, their thoughts overrun by nothing but white noise. It took him a couple seconds to wash it away, but by that point, the creature had caught up to them.
Now they could clearly see who it was. That black ribcage, that domino crown, that blinding red eye... It was nobody else but 1x1x1x1.
Dusekkar felt their heart jump up to their throat. The world around them started getting dark and blurry, as if they were sinking down an endless ocean and the sunlight was growing fainter. Every single breath they took had turned into a struggle, as if they were drowning in their own mind. In order to protect themself, they instinctively cast the Vine Cage spell, summoning a radius of tall, indestructible vines surrounding them. Despite now being in temporary safety, they could still feel a thousand eyes staring at them from all around, monitoring and judging their every move. They collapsed to their knees and covered their face, desperate to make it all stop—but it was completely futile. These gazes were stabbing into them like countless needles, injecting them with deadly poison.
This encounter was exactly what they had been fearing the most. They never wanted to see it again, they thought it would be gone for good—but of course, in no world would it be that easy. This was the first time they had seen it in person since a year prior.
1x1x1x1 had more than enough time to catch up to them, and now it was standing right next to the circle of vines.
“You really are a coward.”
It recoiled its two swords back, intending to create a Mass Infection. As soon as Dusekkar noticed this, they knew exactly what it was trying to do, so they quickly swung their staff around to deflect it with a spell. However, they weren’t quite fast enough. The curved green projectile hit them, knocking them back to the edge of their self-imposed trap. They were coughing violently, caused by whatever venom 1x’s attack had inflicted them with.
Soon, the vines disappeared and 1x1x1x1 walked up to Dusekkar, who was still crouched on the floor. With its dually wielded swords, it could execute them right then and there, and nobody would know. They felt like they were about to pass away just from how terrified they were.
“Get... away...” the pumpkin muttered. Their voice was so weak that they could barely speak louder than a whisper.
“Speak up. I can hardly hear you.”
They looked up at it, the flame in them burning with pure resentment. Despite knowing they were many times more powerful than this creature, they were completely helpless. They hated being helpless.
“Get away... from me.”
1x1x1x1 did just the opposite, leaning over and freeing its hand in order to grab their chin, putting them at eye level. Most people couldn’t look into Dusekkar’s eyeholes for long before being blinded by their fire, but 1x was unperturbed.
“Did you really think you could escape from me? No matter where you go, I will always come back.”
“Why are you doing this...?”
“You’re the only one who had the balls to terminate me. You’re such a stickler to doing what you think is right that you end up putting yourself in even more danger.”
“As an admin, I could never let you kill innocent people.”
Dusekkar grabbed 1x’s hand and forcefully yanked it away. Despite this rash act, it didn’t react very much.
“You fool. Do you realise how many people I killed thanks to you letting me escape?”
“Your escape was inevitable. You were able to find all the loopholes in my magic and Doombringer was doing nothing about it.”
“And instead of trying harder, you decided it wasn’t worth your effort and ran away.”
“No, I did it because you were threatening people I care about. If you couldn’t find me, I thought you would leave them alone...”
1x cackled eerily, which sent a shiver down Dusekkar’s spine.
“If you really did care about them, you would stay instead of letting them down like this. Taph is suffering because of your cowardice. He thought you would be there to protect him from the admins and from angry citizens, but now you’ve left him all alone. How do you think he feels?”
“I left to protect him from you...”
“Did you? I can kill him whenever I want now, and you are powerless to stop it.
“No...”
“The real reason you left is because you were too weak for the responsibilities you had imposed on yourself as an admin. Now you’re leading a happy and quiet life in the woods, meanwhile everybody you left behind is suffering without you. You even found yourself a daughter to take care of—it would be a shame if something happened to her.”
Dusekkar tried their best to stand up, using their staff as a crutch. The fire behind their pumpkin shell was burning more vigorously than ever.
“If you even lay a finger on her, I’m going to make you regret you were ever born.”
“Haven’t you gotten it by now? You can’t do anything to me. My suffering is already infinite; infinity plus one is still infinity.”
“I’m... I know you want to die so bad, don’t you? Well, I’m going to use black magic to make you immortal. You’re going to suffer for eternity, and you will never have a way out of this hell.”
They didn’t actually know any immortality spell. Or at least, they didn’t think they did. The harder thy thought about it, the more their head started hurting.
“It seems you’re revealing your true colours, Dusekkar. You’d rather keep me alive and get thousands of people killed, simply out of spite. Besides, you do realise that the Eternal Flame spell needs a couple of blood-linked sacrifices to function, don’t you? That would make you a murderer as well... Oh wait, you already are a murderer.”
“What are you implying?”
Fragments of memories started coming back. Memories buried deep into his mind, ones left to die but never decayed.
“Oh, it’s not up to me to judge. I have one simple question for you: how old are you?”
“I...”
Dusekkar had completely lost track of time. They didn’t know anything about themself, where they had grown up, and how many years they’d been roaming this earth. They couldn’t recall anything from more than 10 years prior and never questioned it until 1x1x1x1 brought it up. They knew they had done something unforgivable in the past, and random bouts of inexplicable guilt would keep haunting them to this day—but the why had always been a mystery.
Eternal Flame... The spell sounded eerily familiar. Was that the reason they had fire instead of a brain? Was that the reason their memory seemed to regularly wipe itself? Was that the reason they knew absolutely nothing about their family?
“Exactly as I thought, you’re clueless,” 1x hissed as it took a step back from them. “I’ve jogged your memory enough; I will leave it up to you to remember what you’ve done. You terminating me is not the main reason I want you to suffer. Rather, it’s all the disgusting things you’ve done in the past that you aren’t even aware of. I may be a being that lacks remorse, but cowards like you make my blood boil.”
Dusekkar was completely speechless, their jaw hanging low but unable to string together anything.
“Farewell, then. I will be seeing you.”
And in no time, 1x1x1x1 ran away. It could’ve put an end to the pumpkin with a single swipe; its inaction was either an act of mercy or because it had other plans for them. Most likely, it was the latter.
After this encounter, Dusekkar was left unable to think. Any little thought crossing their mind could make them question their entire identity, so as a defence mechanism their brain had emptied itself. There was only one place they were headed towards, the one they felt safest at in the whole world: home.
As soon as they came back to the cabin, the smell of fresh tea permeated about. They felt a certain warmth in their chest. Even though they knew it wasn’t going to last as reality started setting in, they wanted to savour every moment of it.
Dusekkar walked over to the open door of the kitchen where Cerulean was making herself tea. As soon as she noticed their presence, she turned around and smiled languidly.
“Oh, pumpkin, you’re already back. Is there something wrong?”
She could see it in their expression. There definitely was something wrong. They were obviously hurt as well.
Dusekkar couldn’t say anything. Instead, they walked up to her and hugged her softly. Initially, she was puzzled by this.
“But I’m sick...”
After a bit, she realised that they really did need it, and she embraced them back. She knew how stressful this job was and she would often find herself in need of a hug as well.
Her warmth made the mage feel comforted. They knew that she wasn’t going anywhere, that she was going to be safe here. Her well-being was all they wanted.
Then, glimpses of Taph started appearing in their mind.
Notes:
The reason Dusekkar doesn't rhyme is because when he's really disturbed, he can't think of anything quickly enough. Also, he doesn't respect specifically 1x1x1x1 enough to rhyme for it :(
the next chapters' release will probably be smooth sailing from now on so don't worry!
Chapter 10
Notes:
probably the most traumatic chapter yet
enjoy! (:
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cerulean was lying in her bed, tucked under a mountain of blankets. After two weeks of being completely incapacitated from this illness, she was finally starting to get better—but Dusekkar insisted that she stay here until she fully recovered. As much as she hated being dependent on him, all she could do was listen.
Perhaps her job was more stressful than she’d realised. One day last week Dusekkar had returned home hurt and completely shell-shocked; she still had no idea what had happened them and she didn’t want to ask him. But since then, all of his confidence seemed to be gone, and he had regained that same fear of the outside from before he’d started protecting people. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head and now he was experiencing the exact same exhaustion she did whenever she came back from work. She wondered which cryptid brought him so much stress.
As Cerulean stayed in her bed, she was looking at the weekly newspaper Dusekkar had brought her. He had even less interest about the outside world than her, so he didn’t bother reading it; he wanted to distance himself from it as much as possible. Cerulean had used to be like that as well until recently, but she’d stopped caring.
She turned it to page 2, where she saw a picture of a person wearing a Hood of the International Order of the Buildmasters, his face completely obscured by it. It was obvious who this was.
That bastard. This was the man who ruined her life and then ran away as if it was nothing.
The heading read Roblox HQ’s Most Prominent Demolitionist Under Universal Scrutiny After Destroying Innocent People’s Houses. Finally. He was going to being held accountable.
* * *
Dusekkar had been gone for 2 months, and the admins still didn’t have a clear direction with moderation decisions. Builderman was supposed to be the head and finalise every decision, but most of the time he would simply go through with what somebody else had advised him. Doombringer and Shedletsky were the two main people that paid attention the strictness of moderation, with the former vouching for longer bans and more terminations to maintain public welfare, while the latter preferred being more lenient with what to consider a crime, giving citizens more rights. However, the past couple of weeks Shedletsky had grown distant from important decisions like this, which is why Doombringer had been running amok in his quest to alleviate the recent spike in crime after Dusekkar’s resignation.
Long story short, tyranny was slowly beginning to envelop Robloxia. Copyright breaches were more heavily punished than ever before, the swearing filter had become ubiquitous and more sensitive, and all of this is not to mention the number of suspected predators he had terminated.
And naturally, this meant more work for Taph than ever before. Doombringer cared about him, but only to the extent that he didn’t want him to suffer. Sadly, he couldn’t prevent him from suffering.
Most people hated Doombringer’s changes, as they got many of their friends and loved ones terminated. Rather than taking it out on the admins, however, some of them chose to take it out on the person that destroyed their houses and anything else left of them. The man constantly running around town making the ground rumble from all of these explosives.
They assumed he had any say in all of this.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to confront or attack Taph in the streets, and some would even try to break into his home. He’d set up many traps around it just to remain safe—and despite them being a little excessive, he was justified due to the number of people being so insistent on harassing him. Even though he was anonymous and kept his face hidden at all times, he had already made a reputation for himself.
All that stress from working until midnight due to overtime every day, from dealing with angry citizens, from fruitlessly trying to find Dusekkar—it was all beginning to crush Taph. Any kind of peace seemed impossible to reach, and he was stuck in this hell. Sometimes he daydreamed about Dusekkar coming back to save him like he always did, to let him escape from his responsibilities and give him even a single day off, or even to casually talk about his day and the most minor things that frustrated him. He craved his humanity in a world where everybody would treat him as a robot. That was his only hope, but it was little more than a fantasy.
Above everything, his biggest fear was that Dusekkar didn’t care about him anymore, that he had moved on and completely forgotten about him. Sometimes this overthinking made him enter fits of rage at the most random times—angry both at him, and at himself. Recently, these thoughts had been becoming more common.
The only person who made Taph’s life somewhat easier was 1x1x1x1. Recently, it insisted that Taph catch a break from constantly looking for the pumpkin and that it take over everything, and despite the demolitionist’s great hesitation at first, he eventually agreed to it and was finally able to get some sleep. On top of that, 1x also served as Taph’s bodyguard of sorts—it had started walking him home and threatening people that tried to give him problems. 1x’s towering stature and eerie glow were enough to scare any person into place, which is why it never resorted to hurting anyone. Even when somebody was being stubborn, it tried its best to simply get Taph away from here without laying a finger on them—otherwise, it would make things even more complicated.
1x1x1x1 showed a natural aversion from being anywhere near the Roblox HQ or being seen by any of the admins. It would usually hide from people as well, but strangely it completely disregarded this when it came to protecting Taph. The demolitionist wondered why it was showing him so much kindness, when he had barely done anything in return. He hadn’t seen 1x be energetic or cheerful a single time; it had only ever been cold to him and everyone around it. It barely spoke to Taph and he knew nothing about its life, even though 1x knew almost everything about his. It felt to him as if he were leeching off of it—but it insisted on helping help him.
1x1x1x1 had opened Taph’s eyes in a way. Its hatred for the admins was clear, and it made it was able to convey to him just how badly they were taking advantage of him. A couple months ago he used to be able to trust every person he met, but now it was impossible to trust anyone, not even 1x. He often found himself pondering the same question: was it really doing everything for him out of kindness, or was it planning to take advantage of him as well later down the line? Taph had no way to know.
Besides, even if it was malevolent, he had no choice but to accept its help. He never had a say in anything.
It was yet another day of endless toil. The sky was a mellow grey and tiny rain droplets were pattering on the railing. Taph had destroyed 98 houses in his morning shift alone—a couple months prior, he’d had to destroy that many in an entire day. It was his lunch break, and he was sitting in his usual seat at the edge of the balcony, while the chair on the other side of the table stood vacant. He’d given up the hope of the pumpkin appearing a long time ago, but being here made him feel at least somewhat at home.
The demolitionist was gnawing at his cold turkey sandwich, looking at it in aversion. He hadn’t had any appetite for days, practically forcing himself to eat because he wouldn’t have the energy to handle his evening shift. Taph’s hands were violently trembling as he took each bite. God, even his favourite food had turned into a hassle.
Completely unannounced, Builderman showed up at the balcony. It was surprising because he was usually too busy to be able to eat at the HQ’s restaurant. He walked up to Taph with a completely serious expression on his mildly tanned face; it was his default. Then, he spoke—
“Taph, you can have the rest of the day off.”
He turned to his boss, completely startled. He had never heard him utter those words in his life.
“Don’t ya tell Doom or Shed. I’ve got the rest of yer shifts covered, and they don’t hafta know.”
Taph was too shocked to even move. This was the first time he’d ever had half a day off since Dusekkar resigned. As much as he respected Builderman, part of him immediately started doubting him. Why would he be so nice to him all of a sudden? It didn’t add up. And what was the demolitionist going to do with all of this free time anyways?
“I’ve noticed ya’ve been strugglin’, and ya deserve a bit of a break,” Builderman said, patting him on the shoulder, “I reckon you oughta go treat yourself, or maybe catch up on some sleep. I don’t wanna see ya work yerself to death!”
Now that he thought about it, Builderman was the only admin who seemed to somewhat care about his well-being. He was the only one besides Dusekkar that had invited him to tell him about his issues—but Taph was still unable to tell him anything, especially now that he couldn’t trust anyone.
The demolitionist stood up from his chair and bowed down to him in gratitude. He would always do that whenever he received any kind of praise, but this time it was unusually special.
“Anytime,” Builderman smiled. This time, it was unusually genuine.
As Taph was exiting the building, this time he felt unusually happy. It was only a couple of hours he was being spared of, but to him it made a big difference—he got this opportunity once in a blue moon.
However, his satisfaction was only momentary. When he got down to the ground floor, he could hear shouting outside. He looked out of the window to check wat was happening: a sea of people. Violent protestors. They had been here when Taph got to the HQ an hour ago, but since then their number had increased ten-fold.
He knew exactly why the HQ was being swarmed: a beloved developer who ran several non-profit organisations had been terminated because he had been wrongfully accused of running illegal condos, and with this Taph was made to demolish his games and his mansion, leaving behind practically no trace of him. Combined with the surge of recent bans and also the fact there was a very prominent serial killer on the loose that the admins weren’t able to capture even after 2 months and a victim count in the hundreds. There had been several protests the past couple of days, but this time it was more like a riot, and nobody was putting serious effort in cracking down on it.
If there was one thing Taph absolutely hated, it was crowds. He needed to get out of here—otherwise, they would start trying to break in and potentially trample him to death. And so, his body fuelled by adrenaline, he made the mistake of trying to make a run for it.
He went over to the back exit—he assumed there would be less people there—and proceeded to open the door. The demolitionist sprinted through the masses, without a single thought in his mind other than all of his instincts screaming at him to get as far away from here as possible. He didn’t care about being seen or bumping into people—all he wanted was out. However, the crowd was a lot denser than he thought. There were thousands of people crammed in this courtyard, all of them out for blood.
“Hey, that’s the homewrecker! Don’t think you can get away so easily!”
A protestor grabbed Taph’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. Before he could push them away, somebody else grabbed his other arm, and soon enough everybody around him was aware of his presence. They were like ants swarming a dropped piece of bread.
Clockwork was sitting on a second-floor balcony tasked to quell the protestors, and even though he could clearly see the demolitionist being restrained, all he was doing was holler half-hearted promises on his megaphone to people who didn’t even care to listen. How useless.
Everybody was shouting at Taph, but he could barely comprehend what they were saying. Some of them were waving around flashy signs, but his mind couldn’t process anything written on them. The more he tried to resist, the more people jumped in and tried to get a piece of him. He was suffocating, both figuratively and literally. Even though his head-to-toe uniform was protecting him and nobody was able to successfully pull off his hood, he felt as if a thousand centipedes were crawling under his skin.
He could feel a sharp, stabbing pain from his back—but instead of coming from outwards, it came from inwards.
It’s important to note that an individual may be reluctant to hurt somebody—but when you’re with a group that’s just as deranged as you, you lose all sense of morality and accountability. You just do what everyone else is doing while being absolutely convinced you’re in the right. The line between mob justice and mob cruelty is very thin.
The screams of the barbarians were being overrun by the unbearable ringing in his ears, meanwhile his vision was slowly starting to turn dark. It wasn’t very clear what they were doing to him; all he could feel was the pain. Jabs at the face, knee strikes to the stomach, kicks to the legs, scratching, biting, choking, all at the same time. He was completely at the mercy of the people. It felt to him as if he wasn’t going to make it out alive. That at least brought him a sense of comfort, knowing that he’s never going to have to demolish another house ever. He closed his eyes as he felt like his body was about to be split open...
An electric hiss.
Inches away from Taph, an entire row of rioters dropped to the floor like flies, coughing hysterically. The creature made use of this newly discovered path, stepping on the living corpses to get from point A to point B as fast as possible. The light fog was lit up by its green glow, which brought everybody’s eyes on it—but some of the protestors were too preoccupied with Taph to notice.
One of them had just unsheathed a knife, ready to attack the helpless man with it—but before they could make contact with his stomach, they froze in place and looked down. Two black swords had gone right through their stomach, poking out of the other side. As soon as they opened their mouth to scream, nothing came out but blood. The creature took the blades out, which made the rioter collapsed to the ground, creating a puddle of their own guts. As soon as the protestors saw them, they gawked in horror, trying their best to back away from it. Then, it spoke.
“Leave him alone if you value your life.”
It kicked the freshly killed rioter’s corpse to the side before turning to look at the entire crowd. Its Unstable Eye alone was enough to instil terror into anyone looking at it. In no time, everybody who had previously been asserting their dominance over Taph were now scrambling to escape with their lives. Mindlessly running in an unclear direction, bumping and tripping into each other like a startled herd of sheep.
To 1x1x1x1, this was proof that violence really was the answer.
Even after most people were gone, Taph was standing still, looking at it blankly. He could hardly process everything that had just happened. Not wanting to put the two of them in any more danger by waiting, 1x picked up Taph in its arms with ease and ran away with him.
Before disappearing, it looked behind itself to get one last view at the Roblox HQ. Clockwork was still leaning over the second-floor balcony, staring at 1x1x1x1 in disbelief.
Oh no.
Notes:
When I first started the fic, 1x was intended to be little more than a plot device. I can't believe how much I love writing it now like omg
I'm very sorry to all Taph fans, I promise I'll make up for it starting the next chapter :3
Just maybe.
UNRELATED RANT ALERT!!!! (you can skip past this but I NEED to vent)
Okay so I know this chapter isn’t about her at all but as a Cerulean fan, on behalf of all 4 of us, I want to give my two cents on this. I could talk about this forever but I’d rather keep it short. I have mixed opinions about Wanwood’s new design and I’m pretty disappointed (you can see it in the Forsaken discord server here https://discord.com/channels/1273022636053499914/1355584987176632550/1396174763075829760). She’s supposed to be based on the Wanwood series of items made by Roblox (which feels like a low-effort attempt to connect an OC to Roblox that would otherwise have no connection to it), but the only Wanwood item in her design is the antlers. The rest of her outfit doesn’t match it at all and it’s really boring, the only real thing going for it being that giant leaf cape. I think her face accessories work very well, but everything else feels rushed and underwhelming. Cerulean’s old design had so much going for it and it’s also so adorable and I miss it so much. The only thing Wanwood has over Cerulean is that the latter absolutely doesn’t fit Roblox at all.
This is just a prototype and I do think Wanwood has a lot of potential, I just hope they shrink that cape and make her outfit actually interesting. I love the fact they kept her being transfem and potentially some of Cerulean’s other lore (but not all of it), all I want is for them to keep her connection to Dusekkar and nothing else, that’s all I ask for. I know most people agree with me and it makes the most sense but I'm still PRAYING. PLEASE GIVE DUSEKKAR SOME LOVE
Anyway as much as I love Cerulean I’m not about to include her in any future fics. She’s such a self-insert Mary Sue it’s not even funny, and I had to completely rearrange her lore for her to even fit in this fic. Hopefully Wanwood is less tedious while still being interesting.
also screw Ava
Chapter Text
In the middle of this violent protest, all Shedletsky did was stand around in his office in safety, looking at it from a distance. Nobody was happy with Robloxia’s administration, and these riots were all the result of his bad decisions. It was him who let Doombringer’s unfair policies run rampant and get innocent people banned; it was him who chose to keep all of his hatred separate from him and make even more people get killed every single day.
Shedletsky hadn’t felt an ounce of guilt or regret—but he also hadn’t felt any happiness in weeks. In other words, he had turned into a psychopath. He thought he was able to feel glimpses of sadness breaking through 1x1x1x1’s curse, but they would disappear as soon as he caught wind of them.
It was funny how he claimed he was keeping 1x alive so he could be more capable, but now he was just as passive and inactive as Builderman, if not more.
The crowd outside seemed to be dispersing for some reason. Were they... running away? Perhaps Clockwork had really put them into place. Well, at least he didn’t have to go down and deal with it himself.
He heard the door to his office open, but he didn’t bother turning away from the window to check who it was. The footsteps approaching him were loud and heavy, yet slow and reluctant. A giant hand tapped him on his shoulder. It was Doombringer.
“Telamon, I’m worried about you,” he uttered. Even from behind that bucket obscuring it, the concern on his face was palpable.
“Telamon is gone. Get used to it, dude.”
Shedletsky’s words were cold and cut deep. He was still blankly looking at the chaos going down in the courtyard, which was in complete contrast with the blankness of his mind. Doombringer forcefully grabbed his shoulders and turned him to look at him. This was the first time in years he had seen him with black bags under his eyes.
“You haven’t been acting like yourself at all, and I haven’t had a proper conversation with you in weeks. You run away from your negativity because you think it’s gonna turn you into the best version of yourself, but it’s been the exact opposite. You haven’t been doing anything as an admin, and society has been suffering because of it.” Doombringer violently shook the shorter man—not to hurt him, but because he couldn’t control himself. “Tell me—is this what you want?! Why aren’t you—”
“It’s all your fault!”
The buckethead was taken aback by Shedletsky’s sudden accusation. He’d seemed so unperturbed as always until a second ago, but now... Was he... angry? Maybe scared?
“I feel like I’m losing you, and that’s what has been eating at me. You’re very important to me, more than you realise. It’s hard for me to live with the fact that you hate me just because I’m not who you want me to be.”
Doombringer scoffed at his egoism. He was acting like he had no control with this, when he was really the only one that could fix everything.
“Go cry me a river, boy. I already told you what you can do to get things back to how they were before, yet you keep making up excuses. I used to have faith in you, but now it’s starting to disappear.”
“Stop... talking.”
Shedletsky grit his teeth as if he were trying to suppress something. Seeing how he appeared to be in pain, Doombringer let him go and took a step back. He’d already told him everything he needed to hear; it was best to leave him alone now.
The buckethead started heading out of the office, but that’s when the door suddenly opened. Builderman and Clockwork came in, both of them being unusually serious.
“There you were,” Clockwork said. He had developed a certain influencer accent from posting so much on social media, and even in such a grave situation it was noticeable. “Something crazy happened at the protest just now. You’ve gotta see this.”
He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, which was airing breaking news. Mysterious creature carries out deadly attack during Roblox HQ protest. Dozens of estimated casualties, including one killed. Soon, it cut to drone footage of the protest, which showed 1x1x1x1 cutting through the crowd with Mass Infection and stabbing one of the people that were attacking Taph, from the back. The reporters were discussing theories of 1x1x1x1’s identity, including one about it being a mercenary hired by the admins so they don’t have to deal with the protest.
“I saw it happen with my own eyes; it was terrifying!” Clockwork proclaimed, pulling down his signature sunglasses for dramatic effect. “Builderman over here explained everything about that thing to me and Luke. Shedletsky, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
The man audibly gulped as he heard his name. Clockwork was infamous for leaking things that should’ve been kept secret to the masses, just for the sake of stirring up controversy. He was sure he was going to do that with 1x too.
Meanwhile, Builderman was too shocked to even speak. Nobody was talking about how Taph had been attacked and almost killed, which made him feel even more disheartened. He blamed himself for this, as he was the one who didn’t stop him from leaving the HQ in the middle of something so dangerous. And out of everyone, it had been 1x1x1x1 who saved him—the last person to care about anybody’s life. Just what was going on?
After months of disaster waiting to happen, it finally did.
* * *
When carrying Taph home, 1x chose the most isolated routes, going through alleyway after alleyway just so it avoids draw even more attention to itself. At some point, Taph had dozed off in its arms, and it could feel him breathe lightly. How anybody could fall asleep in such circumstances was beyond it, but perhaps he really needed this.
1x reached the demolitionist’s home, which was laden with traps. It had come there enough times to know where it was safe to step on and where it wasn’t, which is why it managed to break into his home with ease. It was far from a luxurious place to live, especially for somebody working for Roblox HQ. Every window was blocked off by the blinds, making it completely dark; 1x could only see thanks to its Unstable Eye. It was an utter mess, every room being filled with empty bottles and discarded packaging. So many unread books just lying around, so many clothes he wanted to wear but never had the chance to put on, and to top it off, the entire home had a certain chemical stench. Taph had always wanted to clean his place up and make it welcoming to other people, but his job took so much of his time that he would barely spend any time home.
1x1x1x1 took Taph to the bedroom, where it laid him to rest on his bare-bones mattress. He was sound asleep, and despite the injuries he may have sustained, he didn’t look to be in very bad condition.
As it was looking around, a certain framed photo propped on his nightstand caught its attention. It was of Taph and Dusekkar posing together at some sort of theme park, both of them holding giant cones of cotton candy. Dusekkar’s was already half-eaten and his pumpkin face was utterly smeared with it (whether he knew that or not), meanwhile Taph had barely touched his. Ever since its inception, 1x had never seen the demolitionist or the admins spend a single day outside of work, so perhaps this had been taken long before that. Even seeing the mage’s face made the creature clench its fists—it hated him more than almost anything—but it stopped when it realised just why this photo was here in the first place.
What in the world was 1x1x1x1 even doing here? All it wanted was to kill people so it could feel a sense of completion and righteousness in its pathetic existence, but today it did the complete opposite—it saved a man. From suffering one of the world’s most humiliating deaths, no less. If it had simply let it happen, Dusekkar would’ve felt so much despair when he found out; such a demise was worse than anything even 1x could come up with. And yet, it chose to save Taph and reveal its identity to thousands in the process, including Clockwork of all people. This was not like it at all. Had it lost its mind!?
The creature looked down at Taph’s snoring body. Alone, vulnerable, helpless. It picked its victims based on those three qualities, and Taph fit the quota perfectly. It would be so easy to just stab him in the heart and make up for the mistake of saving him. There was a reason it had gotten close to Taph, and doing it all for his sake was the opposite of that reason. It hated every human equally, and he was no exception—so, it shouldn’t have any problem killing him at this very moment. Yes, that’s right. It was going to put him out of his misery, right then and there.
1x grabbed its sword and slowly approached Taph, before raising it right above him, with the tip pointing down. All it took was a single thrust; it had done this a thousand times before. But then... Why was it hesitating?
The red light emanating from 1x’s Unstable Eye went right into the demolitionist’s closed eyelids, which made him begin to shuffle in his bed. He was waking up. 1x1x1x1 panicked and pulled away, nearly falling over in the process. Right at that moment, Taph sat up and looked at the creature in confusion. As a reflex, it signed its thoughts:
“💣📍❓”
Where is Taph?
“We’re at your house. You’re safe now.”
He sighed in relief. He didn’t remember quite how he’d gotten out of that nightmare; all he could recall was being in 1x’s arms, too shocked to even move. Just how did 1x manage to get him out of there?
Out of nowhere, that sharp pain coming from his back returned, this time even worse. He squirmed uncontrollably as something was starting to poke out of his skin. The exact same pain was coming out from the sides of his skull as well, and it was more horrifying than anything that he had experienced in that protest. 1x could only watch as he was in physical agony—something it would experience endlessly, to the point of growing accustomed to it.
Turns out, Taph had just finished his metamorphosis.
Two pairs of white wings started emerging from his clothes—one from the lower back, and one from the sides of his hood, around the temples. Their feathers were both bloodied from the wounds they had created by poking out. As his body was trying to squeeze them out as quickly as possible, the wings fluttered wildly and bent at unnatural angles, leading to even more pain. 1x stood there looking at him in awe; it knew a lot about Taph’s biology, but it never could’ve predicted that it could grow wings. They were huge as well—they would eventually become almost as wide as 1x1x1x1 was tall. How could something this big be hidden in such a thin body?
Taph felt the urge to scream, but due to his lack of voice, nothing could come out. All he did was take deep, pained breaths as he shuffled around in his bed. In the end, he curled up into a ball like a pill-bug, wanting to hide himself from everything. Despite his agony, the room remained deathly quiet.
The wings were having trouble fully breaking through his garments, so 1x decided to help, using its blade to make precise cuts through which they could easily come out. When it was done, Taph grabbed its free hand for support. It felt the urge to push him away, but for some reason it couldn’t bring himself to do that—instead, it dropped its blade and patted his head, not saying a word.
It had never had the chance to be there for anybody going through a difficult time before, meanwhile Taph had always been there for it. Whenever it had an outburst because of Shedletsky’s emotions or simply out of the blue, Taph would always try his best to comfort it and calm it down, completely unaware of the danger he was putting himself in. After all, 1x was nothing but an apathetic monster that killed people, and it was going to kill Taph as well—it didn’t deserve any of his kindness, and it was all in vain.
Over time, however, it felt like he really was starting to make it feel better. It didn’t want to admit it, but it cared about the demolitionist, and he meant more to it than anybody else. Well, it wasn’t like there was much of a competition anyway.
1x also felt a sort of familial connection to him, as he was quite literally an older brother to it. He didn’t know it, but he had been created by none other than Telamon a couple of decades ago (back when that guy was still a demigod), with the sole purpose of being the solution to excess housing. He had been born with no vocal cords, most likely no face, and a brain outwardly designed in a way to make him as easy to influence and manipulate as possible. He was a human, but he had no purpose to live other than to serve the admins. With this knowledge, the creature hated the admins even more than it already did.
Ironically, despite being designed to be a robot in a suit of flesh, Taph had more humanity than anybody 1x had spoken to.
With that said, it was scared. So unbelievably scared. All it knew was cold-hearted killing, so it was completely unable to be there for somebody when they were going through something tough. It lacked the ability to show any concern, even if it was just faking it. It was also scared of all those sadistic urges that kept flowing through its head at all times; it had always known to blindly trust them every single time, while now it had to try its hardest to block them out. It was an entity designed to feel nothing but negativity—but it didn’t want to be that way anymore. At least, it wanted some nuance in its life. It wanted some love amidst the hatred.
1x didn’t know how to show any kind of affection, so it just copied everything Taph had done for it, and this seemed to be working. Just by being touched, the hooded man stopped squirming as much and his breathing had become more stable. Simply being comforted seemed to make a big difference.
After a couple of excruciating minutes, his wings were finally fully fledged. He could still feel some pain, but for the most part it had gone away. The demolitionist stood up and took a couple of steps with these new growths—but he was swooping left and right, struggling to maintain balance. 1x grabbed his hand again in order to support him, and the two of them took a couple more steps around the room. Even though Taph was limping, it was a lot easier for him now.
He sighed, flapping both of his pairs aimlessly. To most, growing white angelic wings reminiscent of a swan would be something one could only dream of. But to Taph, they served no use.
Since he was too heavy to fly, they were only there for decoration and maybe to serve some kind of utility. The idea of having them forever made him panic a bit—this was a permanent change to his body that he’d never asked for, and now he was going to live with it for the rest of his life. It made him feel like he was out of control in a way—did he really know so little about his body? Had those wings always been bound to grow, or had somebody cast some kind of magic on him?
On the other hand, it made him feel hopeful. Hopeful that freedom was approaching.
Meanwhile, 1x1x1x1 was facing away from him, lost in thought. It was staring back at that picture of Taph and Dusekkar posing together without a care in the world, deliberating over one thing:
Should it tell him?
It had already known where the pumpkin had gone since the very beginning—he was simply that predictable—but telling the demolitionist immediately would’ve been detrimental to the plan. But what about now?
1x had seen how that protest was being recorded–not only by cameramen, but also by drones. This is not to mention Clockwork, who had seen everything. If the admins had even an ounce of common sense, which they most likely did, they would cut their losses and try their best to capture it in order to appease the public. If Shedletsky wasn’t up to this idea, Doombringer or Builderman most certainly would be.
If it stayed with Taph for any longer, he would be in danger, and so would be every single thing it had in store for Dusekkar. It seemed this stage of the plan was finally over.
“Taph,” 1x uttered, before suddenly turning to face him. “I found Dusekkar.”
Notes:
i have nothing much to say here so I just want to thank you all for the amazing comments!! Sometimes I may not be able to reply with anything substantial but know that I appreciate it!
Also. This fic is about to take a turn
Chapter 12
Notes:
So I'm currently visiting relatives, and next to the commie block I'm staying in, there is a certain grey seagull that some of the dwellers feed. It's injured which means it can't fly, and whenever I approach it, it just starts squeaking and trying to run away. It reminds me of Taph so much it's not even funny...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cerulean couldn’t sleep.
She stood at the back porch, watching the powerful rainstorm fall down on her garden. The chorus of falling raindrops would usually relax her, but now she felt even more on edge.
She held her giant staff in her left hand, and a black magic tome in her right. There were several of them stacked on the floor next to her. She was frantically scouring through them, looking for spells that could help her defend herself.
For, Cerulean had a premonition.
A premonition that something terrible was about to happen.
* * *
Taph was driving his Explode-mobile, hardly able to contain his excitement. He had been keeping track of it: 67 days. And he was finally about to see them. He was using the advanced GPS systems built into his vehicle to get to where they were as quickly as possible, going at the fastest possible speed that didn’t get him in trouble. He had completely forgotten about all the horrible things that had happened today, about how he had just barely escaped death or how his body looked drastically different now. The only thought repeating in his mind was that he was going to see them again.
1x1x1x1 had told him that they lived in some cabin in a certain remote forest, without giving him any specific coordinates—it was up to him to find them. Being equipped with many of his own traps, along with food and water to last him days, he was more than prepared for the task. 1x had refused to go with him, as it thought the police would probably be after it after having saved him from that protest, and it didn’t want to bring Taph into this mess it had started as well.
It saddened him in a way, to know that likely he was never going to see 1x again. From start to finish, it always remained a living enigma to him—but everything it did for him today was confirmation that it really did care about him, a lot more than he realised.
Despite these stray thoughts, nothing could get in the way of his excitement.
* * *
It was Dusekkar’s last day of covering for Cerulean as forest guardian before she would take over again. She had already basically recovered, but they insisted that she stay at home one more day, just in case.
It had been raining on and off the entire day, with a dense fog making visibility more difficult. The pumpkin was deathly afraid of water, especially rain—but they bit the bullet and carried on, casting a weak forcefield around themself to divert the droplets away from them.
Right now, the sun had recently set and the sky had mostly cleared up. They decided to stay outside for a bit longer because the cryptids today were especially restless. At this moment, they were quietly tailing Jason in order to prevent him from attacking any potential victims. He was somebody they’d used to be so deathly afraid of that now posed no risk to them. His brisk footsteps were as quiet as the wind, meanwhile his gaze was firm and focused—he was in Raging Pace, and it was obvious that he had found himself a target.
In order to know who they were dealing with, Dusekkar used a spell to see the person’s aura as well. It was a hooded man sitting atop a lone stump about a hundred metres away, with two pairs of wings coming out of his body. In their entire life, they had never seen any living person with wings besides Telamon, so now their curiosity was piqued. Just who was this person? Could it be another mage?
Jason suddenly started running, which the mage didn’t expect, and they lost a lot of distance. They quickly cast a Plasma Beam just at the right angle so they could zap both the masked man and the winged figure. Despite the killer being slowed, he was fast enough to get right behind the person and dash forward, aiming to strike him in the back with his knife. However, the man had sharpened reflexes and he quickly leaped forward to dodge the strike. He proceeded to run back in order to throw a Subspace Tripmine on the ground, aiming to ensnare the killer.. It was a slightly modified tripmine—one with toned down destruction capabilities with the trade-off of being smaller and easier to carry.
However, he underestimated the amount of time it took to set up the trap, which allowed Jason to catch up in no time. The victim wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way, so he used his most devastating move—Gashing Wound. He swiped his machete left and right in order to cut right through him—however, he immediately noticed a problem: the blade wasn’t making contact, and all he achieved was scratch his clothes. Unbeknownst to him, the pumpkin had cast Spawn Protection at the last moment, protecting the winged man from certain death.
The intended victim turned back to see just what kind of force was protecting him, and that’s when their eyes met.
Dusekkar.
Taph.
It had seemed so distant and unachievable until so recently, but now they were finally face to face. It wasn’t a dream or a hallucination—it really was them. He could feel his heart jump up to his throat.
However, this moment of reunion didn’t even last a second—the demolitionist was in the middle of a chase, and he had to run. He sprinted in the direction of the tripmine in order to get the killer to step on it, which is exactly what happened. The trap exploded, producing its signature robotic screech, which made Jason blinded and disoriented, unable to do anything.
This was the perfect time for Dusekkar to use one of his most powerful sapping spells—Blood Leech. It wasn’t very practical due to how many precise strokes in a row it required to be effective, which is why they didn’t use it very often—but they felt like showing off today. While Jason was still incapacitated, they swung their staff around at lightning speeds, doing it with such flow and accuracy that they looked like a performer at a talent show.
When they were done, they cast a black beam at the killer. Small red bubbles of blood started escaping his skin and drags, floating over to Dusekkar’s staff before being absorbed by it. They were coming from all over his body, gathering at the point where the beam had hit him, and going to the staff in a straight line. With them being able to draw out thousands of tiny blobs, the spell was an obvious success. Taph stared as Jason’s lifeforce was being sucked out of him. It was utterly mesmerising to look at, but at the same time it was morbid and gruesome knowing they were doing the equivalent of slitting his wrists.
After a bit, Dusekkar stopped—they didn’t feel like they had the right to outwardly kill the man. Jason was swaying left and right, struggling to stay on his feet—he likely wasn’t going to be a threat any longer, at least for the next couple of minutes. As Taph stared at him tantalised, the pumpkin grabbed his hand and quickly floated away, causing Taph to run alongside them.
Just holding them made the demolitionist blush. Before even realising it, Taph had become beet red from behind that bandana, and he felt a certain tingling in his throat. He stepped with a noticeable limp from all the injuries he’d sustained at that protest, which Dusekkar made note of.
They stopped hurrying once the two of them got far away enough, stepping on the ground with their feet—but they didn’t let go of his hand. They looked at each other for a long time not saying a word, simply admiring each other. Just seeing him made the pumpkin so unbelievably happy, and it took him a while to realise it. There was a certain warmth forming inside of them that they hadn’t felt in a long time.
They were especially interested in his wings. He looked even more beautiful with them. Dusekkar didn’t want to intrude, but their urge got the better of them and they slowly drew their free hand closer to touch his left wing on his back.
As soon as their hand made contact, Taph was startled and he instinctively jerked away, contracting his outgrowths to keep them safe. With them being so new, they were extremely sensitive and even the slightest touch made him overstimulated. Dusekkar thought they had just overstepped and they became visibly worried. Taph could feel their palms sweat a little.
“A-Ah, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
The demolitionist voicelessly giggled from behind his bandana. They would always apologise for the tiniest thing, even if it was the other person’s fault; it was the exact same Dusekkar he remembered. He pat Dusekkar on the shoulder. You did nothing wrong.
Doubling down, Taph proceeded to huddle his left wing over their back, which made his entire body get goosebumps. The sensation was so overwhelming—but it was always pleasant, as long as it came from Dusekkar. He brought his other wing toward the pumpkin as well, as an invitation to let them touch it.
It took them a couple of seconds to get the message, and when they did, their face immediately lit up. Dusekkar ran their fingers through hia feathers, getting a feel of every single one of them. It was so soft they felt like they were touching a dream. As they were trying to sense every little inch of them, they started speaking without even realising it. It was a bad habit of theirs.
“Taph... your wings are pristine just like your soul. You’re a gift to this world and you grace my heart whole.”
The demolitionist looked down in embarrassment as his face was burning. Since when had they become so good at flirting, goddammit!? As soon as the pumpkin realised they’d just said that out loud, they looked down as well, even more embarrassed. Despite that, they moved a step closer to him in order to get a better feel of the wing embracing them from behind—they realised there was no longer a point in trying to hide their enjoyment. Taph, who had already been flapping his head appendages nervously, started doing it faster.
He tried to sign something to them, but he was using only one hand which made it impossible to understand. Before he could pull away to make himself more understandable, Dusekkar stopped him and pulled something out of their breast pocket. It was a familiar-looking notebook, scattered with the most random stickers on the cover that didn’t fit together at all, along with a cheap pen attached to it.
“I wanted to keep something that’s yours to recall, so I’ve held onto this for the whole time, quite. I haven’t opened it at all—I waited until it was your turn to write.”
The mage handed it over to him, and he took it with his hands slightly trembling. He embraced it tightly as if it were a part of him. It really did contain him in a way—this was the notebook he and Dusekkar would use to communicate when he wasn’t feeling like signing or when that wasn’t enough to express his thoughts.
The hooded man quickly shuffled through its pages, causing so many memories he’d made with them to resurface. On one page it was playing dumb games, and on the next there were paragraphs of venting all of his stress out. Random doodles were scattered across most pages, ranging from silly aliens he’d drawn on a whim to detailed sketches of characters and people. A recurring subject of his drawings was birds—he’d always admired them for the freedom they possessed, and their hypnotising wings were usually the main attraction. He’d convinced Dusekkar to try their hand at drawing as well—but despite their neat handwriting, their sketches didn’t really look like anything and they were nowhere as good as him. They simply admired Taph for his talent and how he would glide the pen across the paper with such ease.
Despite his skills, he was too shy to show them to anyone but Dusekkar. He was afraid he would be shunned for doodling instead of doing his job.
Soon, Taph reached the most recent page. 68 days ago. He had written ordinary things about his day, and at the end there was a quick portrait of Dusekkar. They looked striking—they could only wish to have as much charisma and boldness as he portrayed them. This was not even mentioning the elephant in the room—the oddly realistic human nose he’d drawn between his eyes. It looked so out of place that it made it absolutely hilarious. He remembered how much both of them had laughed at this stupid sketch, meanwhile Doombringer who had been eating at the other table had been looking at them as if they were crazy. Dusekkar had seemed down the prior couple of days and Taph had drawn that to try and cheer them up; it warmed his heart that it worked.
He started writing something below the drawing, not even bothering to put in the date as he always did. Then, he turned it around to show it to them.
I don’t know how to express how happy I am that you’re here.
Before Dusekkar could reply, he quickly flipped the notebook back to himself to look at that drawing once again. Everything had seemed so normal back then; Taph never could’ve predicted that the following day they would be gone. A familiar sense of anger came to him, but he tried his best to shake it off. It was obvious Dusekkar hadn’t stopped caring about him; rather, it was the opposite—now they hid their fascination with him even less.
So why did they leave him to suffer?
Taph started writing with his scruffy font once again before quickly showing it to them.
Life is very difficult without you. I can’t keep going like this.
As soon as Dusekkar read it, they seemed like they were about to burst into tears. All that worry and regret that had been eating at them ever since they resigned resurfaced. It had been right after all: if they really did care about him, they would’ve stayed with him until the bitter end instead of trying to justify leaving him behind. They were a bad, selfish person at heart.
“Taph, I know that I did something terrible. I’m sorry for causing you so much pain and not giving you any closure. I promised that I’d do everything to protect you, but I…”
Before they could finish, the demolitionist hugged them tightly, which took them by complete surprise. He wrapped his wings around their body as well, to make extra sure that they weren’t going anywhere. His touch was so soft that Dusekkar felt like he was being assimilated into a cloud. It was a heavenly sensation, one that they had been craving their entire life without even realsiing it.
Despite Taph’s inability to speak, he was able to express through their gestures more than Dusekkar ever could through their mastery of language. And so, all of their negative feelings were washed away in an instant—the only thing they could sense was bliss.
And yet, they still hadn’t told him how they really felt about him. They had always felt like there was something inherently wrong in one of the most powerful people in the country being so enamoured with one of their direct subordinates, and both of them had been too busy with work to even think of taking things to the next step. Even in this current moment, there were too many uncertainties and unresolved questions floating in the air, and until they were tackled, they couldn’t say anything.
After some time, Taph let go in order to write something down again.
Please never leave again. I just want to stay by your side.
He was looking up at Dusekkar expectantly. Once again, he was flapping his head wings unconsciously while he was still embracing them from behind with his back wings. They had a hard time figuring out what to say—both of them’s futures were completely uncertain.
“Look, I’m not going back to being an admin,” they proclaimed firmly. “Not only would it put me in danger, but you as well.”
Taph closed his notebook and shoved it in his only remaining vacant pocket—it seemed he didn’t feel like writing anymore. He proceeded to sign a more complex set of sentences quickly, knowing they would still understand him.
“💣🏃➡️🏠🚫🟰. 👐👥🙏💣☠️.”
Taph can’t go home either. Everybody wants Taph dead.
“Wh-What do you mean? Have there been protests again?”
He nodded. “💣📖❌❓🔨. 📅💣🫱❌📍.”
Taph doesn’t know what to do. Now Taph has nowhere.
“Don’t worry, you can live with me until we find you a home. I live in the house of a fellow mage; I’m sure she will take you in once I explain everything to her.”
Taph agreed, albeit he seemed a little reluctant. As long as he had a place to sleep, everything would be fine. He felt like he needed to get some sleep before he explained everything that had happened to him to the pumpkin anyway.
“By the way, you seem to have difficulty walking,” the pumpkin remarked as they cast a spell that made them start floating above the ground. “Would you like for me to carry you, so your legs aren’t sulking?”
He frantically waved his hands to signify “No, there’s no need”. He seemed terrified of the prospect of being carried by them—and that’s why they did exactly that. Moving as fast as a mantis, they snatched him in their arms, getting a feel of his blissful white wings once again. Oh god, this was the second time somebody was carrying him without his consent. He started breathing as quickly as a jackhammer while his entire body became flaming hot. Dusekkar was simply laughing the entire time, occasionally patting his hooded head and toying with his restless head wings which he was using to hide his already hidden face.
Over time, Taph had to slowly accept his fate. He didn’t resist because he hated being carried—in fact, he absolutely loved being in Dusekkar’s arms and getting a feel of their warmth. However, he was so flustered that he felt like his heart was about to explode. The clean forest air, as well as the pumpkin’s gentle rocking up and down gave him a sense of tranquility.
And so, Dusekkar was now leading him to the place they called home.
The entire way through, they were retelling to him everything they had done while they were gone—being saved by this Ceru person, moving into her little home, taking care of her, as well as fighting evil cryptids and saving helpless hikers. The whole time, Dusekkar didn’t stop rhyming. Even though it had been getting more and more difficult for them to rhyme, they still did it because they knew Taph loved it when they did that.
The demolitionist was nothing short of amazed. As if Dusekkar couldn’t get any cooler—they were an actual hero. In fact, they had even saved him from that man in the hockey mask just now. He had always had a great fascination with mages, and being held by one of them made him feel invincible.
However, something didn’t sit quite right with Taph, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Perhaps it was the person Dusekkar lived with? He didn’t know why, but part of him was screaming that she was some kind of threat. A threat to him. A distraction.
Finally, they got to the cabin. Both of them were exhausted beyond comprehension—Dusekkar from saving so many people today, and Taph from all the pain he’d experienced. At last, they were going to get their well-deserved rest. Dusekkar had to set Taph down (even though he wished he could be carried for longer) and the two of them walked up to the front porch, where Gubby was eating some kind of stew from its food bowl. As soon as the unknown visitor looked at it, it was startled and quickly scurried away, hiding in the brambles. Stupid creature, he thought.
The smell of freshly baked dough was coming from the inside, making the place feel even more homely. Taph was excited—he was finally going to be staying in a home that had a sense of order. Dusekkar knocked on the door, and not after long, it was opened.
On the other hand was a pale woman with antlers even bigger than Dusekkar’s; they looked more like big tree branches. Her grey hair was dishevelled and her clothes were all made of animal fur. Her snowy, muted appearance reminded Taph of the dead of winter—a part of the year that suppressed all life. She was wearing her favourite yellow apron as she held a steaming tray of cookies in her hands, proudly showing them off.
“Welcome back, pumpkin!” she said with a wide grin that she was barely trying to hide. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”
A couple days ago, Dusekkar had mentioned that what they’d missed the most about the city was buying chocolate chip cookies from their local bakery—so she had gone the extra mile and made ones for them? They couldn’t help but smile as well—she knew them so well. Cerulean had rarely baked before, and from their blob-like shape, it was clear she had added too much sugar. However, they had been made with love, and this was all that mattered.
She moved aside to let the mage come in—however, that’s when she saw that there was another person behind him. Strange, they had never warned her about a guest.
Wait.
She glared at them, trying to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.
Was that…?
Cerulean’s carefree smile disappeared and her eyes shot wide.
Beeping.
Explosions.
Robotic screeching.
Frantic footsteps.
Firetruck sirens.
The feel of her hands digging through gravel and debris.
The stench of corpses.
Blood.
All gone.
The tray of cookies slipped out of her hands with a piercing clank, making them spill onto the floor like they were worthless. She felt a certain pressure coming up her throat—it was the urge to vomit.
For a couple of seconds, Taph stared at her back, completely confused. Her shocked face seemed eerily familiar. It didn’t take him long to realise why.
Countless years’ worth of incomprehensible guilt hit him again like a tsunami. He froze in place. He was trapped by his own mind, forced to relive all those nightmares and sleepless nights.
Tens of thousands of mistakes had led up to this very moment, spanning decades.
Destiny’s powerful hand had made the beds of their futures, and it was up to them to lie in them.
Notes:
How did this chapter get to 3800 words when most of my chapters are supposed to be 2000? Look, I don't know.
Well, I do know. It's because I've written so much angst that having an excuse to do even a bit of fluff feels like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert. And also because I feel like the pacing has been slowing down significantly... (which is kinda intentional)
Taph apologists, you've had your fun. Prepare yourselves for the warzone that's gonna be Chapter 13 :D
And for fellow Dusekkar enjoyers. I'm so sorry in advance. Not for the following chapter, and not for the chapter after that. Just... Be prepared.ONE LAST THING!! I've decided to provide direct translations to Taph's emoji language as he's signing it, and I've edited the previous chapters to reflect that change. It would be more fun if I make it easier for people to crack the code behind my little conlang, y'know?
(note: Taph's signs are not a serious conlang. At least, not if I decide to turn them into one)
Chapter 13
Notes:
I almost started crying while writing this chapter. Several times. That's all you need to know.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was late in the evening. Police inspector Jane Doe was sifting through different case files, looking to put them all in order. Crime and public unrest had been spiking and she was busier than ever before, especially now that she had been appointed to overlook the Heartpiercer murders after the previous inspector had given up on that case. This killer was terrorising the entire population, and people were starting to quickly lose trust in the police force due to its utter failure to catch them. Jane Doe simply had to grit her teeth and keep going—everybody would lose if she gave up.
Right as she was beginning to pack up, the door to the police station opened.
It was a creature that stood out with its green domino crown and glowing red eye. The inspector recognised it as the person that had thwarted today’s protest in front of Roblox HQ. It slowly walked toward her. Being alone in such an isolated place, she was the perfect victim for it, especially considering how she was one of the biggest threats to its operations. However, it was unarmed and didn’t seem to be in a malevolent mood.
For, it knew its plan was already in motion. It didn’t need to lift another finger.
As soon as it reached her desk, it looked at her gravely and spoke:
“I’ve killed 218 people over the past 2 months. Arrest me.”
* * *
“ Halt… and refrain… Halt… and refrain… Halt—”
As she was whispering this mantra to herself, Cerulean walked over to the sofa to fetch her staff. The entire time, she was glaring at Taph, her normally obscured eyes serving as a door to hell. Dusekkar remained completely speechless—he could hardly process what was happening. The guardian turned to look at him.
“This is the man who destroyed my life.”
She spoke emotionlessly, wearing her usual frown—she didn’t seem any different from usual. However, the way she was gripping her staff so tightly with both hands raised alarms in the pumpkin’s head. She struck this pose only when she was about to cast a spell.
“He broke into my home and demolished it while they were asleep. Father, Mother, Sister—all gone. I was just returning home from my night school. I saw it all. That pussy ran away when he saw me. I tried to chase him, but he messed up my vision with one of his stupid traps. Builderman ended up covering up all of this. I had nowhere to go, so I was made to commit crimes and deal with a bunch of messed up people.
My family hadn’t broken a single law. He just did it because he thought it would be fun. Motherfucker.”
Dusekkar turned over to Taph, his mouth agape. Upon hearing all of this, he didn’t know what to think. Seeing him, the demolitionist returned to his senses and started signing to him rapidly:
“🚫🏠! 🚫🏠! 💣❗️💥⛓🏠!”
Wrong house! Wrong house! Taph must destroy other house!
He was moving his hands so quickly that it was hard to comprehend what he was trying to tell.
“Wrong house?”
He nodded quickly. “💣📖🦌👪🤲🏠❌. 💣🔨🕳!”
Taph doesn’t know deer family is at home. Taph makes a mistake!
He bowed down deeply—it was his word for “I’m sorry”. However, Cerulean didn’t seem very amused at his little mimicry.
“Oh, you can’t even speak up for yourself? Pathetic. And yet you have the balls to destroy innocent people’s houses every day!”
Seeing how much rage was brewing inside of her, it was clear she was about to snap at any moment. Dusekkar was too scared to say anything so he wouldn’t set her off—but he had to. It wouldn’t be fair for Taph otherwise.
“He says it was an accident. He was supposed to destroy the next house over.”
“I see you’re trying to defend a murderer. Didn’t expect that from you. Just what is he to you? How do you even know him?”
The pumpkin tried to think of some kind of a lie or excuse—but he knew how sharp she was. If he tried to lie to her, she would immediately know and she’d press him until he got caught up in a web of his own lies. This is why he thought it would be best to tell her the truth outright. He was wrong.
“I used to be an admin until recently. Taph worked for me. He is still very dear to me, and...”
Oh?
Oh.
Cerulean turned her back to the two of them. It was impossible to see her expression.
“Haha... Now I see...” she mumbled. She spoke so quietly it was little more than a whisper. Her languid voice was trembling.
She scooted over to the improvised dartboard of Builderman she’d hung up on the wall. There were many holes in it, and one of the daggers was lodged straight at the bullseye.
“I see who I put all my trust into!”
In the blink of an eye, Cerulean grabbed the successful dagger off the picture, spun around, and launched it straight at Dusekkar. It was flying straight to his forehead.
He never could’ve expected her to do such a thing; there was no way he could react in time. Taph, however, knew to be ready for a fight. He moved as fast as lightning. Right as the blade was about to hit him, he extended his arm and snatched it mid-air by the handle. The demolitionist remained completely still for a couple of seconds, partly amazed at his own reflexes.
But then, fury started to envelop him. He took slow steps toward Cerulean, staring at her and only her. If only she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. He had no problem with people trying to kill him—in fact, he had long gotten used to it—but anybody who threatened to hurt Dusekkar was not going to get away so easily.
The deer girl was manoeuvring her staff, clearly trying to cast some kind of spell on him—Taph wasn’t having any of this, however. He leaped forward, wildly flapping his wings to boost his speed and height. The sheer agility they gave him was unhuman. He landed his foot into her abdomen before grabbing her shoulders to tackle her to the floor. Even though she was half a foot taller than him, he made up for it with his sheer power and speed.
He was on top of her, ready to attack her with the dagger—but there was one thing he didn’t account for. She was still firmly gripping her staff, holding onto it for dear life. Cerulean thrust it forward, striking him right in his stomach. Given how he’d already been wounded there from the protestors, he recoiled in pain, allowing her to roll away and get back to her feet.
That’s when she saw Dusekkar at the other side of the room, trying to do something complicated with his staff while staring right at her. Oh no, he wouldn’t!
The guardian quickly cast something in retaliation—it was her signature spell, Weed Ensnarement. After only a couple of simple strokes, dozens of thorny green vines started rapidly growing through the floor below Dusekkar, and in seconds they started wrapping themselves around his feet and legs. He made the mistake of trying to run away—but that only caused him to trip on them and fall prone, allowing them to trap him even more easily. Soon enough, he was tied to the floor by those vines, completely unable to use his staff.
“You’ve already shown me how much you’re capable of,” she said with a smug scowl. “It’s not your place to intervene.”
“Goddammit! Stop this immediately, the two of you!” he yelled while the thorns dug into his skin.
As Taph was getting up from the ground, he quickly signed to the pumpkin:
“⚠️🫵❌.”
Don’t endanger yourself.
The two people he cared about the most wanted to fight each other. He knew how stubborn both of them were—they were not going to stop until one of them was dead. He was forced to watch them get hurt, to watch them hurt each other. And he was completely unable to do anything. They wouldn’t listen. They didn’t care how much he was hurting watching them like this. All they wanted was to reach their own, twisted version of justice.
And in the end of this encounter, one of them was going to come out dead.
This was torture.
Taph charged at the guardian once again, running straight at her with the dagger pointing forwards—but she was already prepared, moving aside and making him miss. However, she didn’t get the chance to counter-attack; he immediately continued with his offensive, wildly slashing at her left and right and forcing her to back off more and more.
He acknowledged his advantage in sheer strength, so he wanted to keep her on her feet at all times and prevent her from casting any serious spells. There was also the fact that he was wielding a blade, while all she had was this giant stick. Cerulean quickly caught on to his strategy, and tried to think of how to flip it on his head. She greatly overpowered him due to the fact she was a magic user and he wasn’t, making her completely unpredictable—but if she didn’t leverage this advantage, she was quickly going to be killed. Just a single decisive spell could make all the difference and win her this fight.
Taph backed her up to a wall, not giving her a single opportunity to strike back. He was trying to stab her wherever he could, but she managed to predict and block every single hit with her staff. However, if she didn’t get some distance, he was bound to make her bleed soon.
After she blocked another one of his stabs, she did something he couldn’t have expected. Instead of defending herself, she thrust the curved tip of her staff forward as fast as possible, hitting him in the left head wing. An audible crack could be heard. Given how sensitive it was, his entire nervous system started panicking and he instinctively covered it with his free hand. Cerulean used this moment of distraction to body slam into him, pushing him aside and allowing her to run back.
As soon as Taph realised where she had gone, it was too late—she was already a dozen feet away, trying to cast a spell. Not knowing just what this was going to do to him, he couldn’t afford to let her finish it, so he did the only thing he could to disrupt her—he threw the dagger right at her. She wasn’t fast enough to dodge it, and in the end it was lodged in her arm. She grit her teeth in pain.
“You’re going to regret this.”
Cerulean still managed to complete her spell despite that setback. Suddenly, she vanished into thin air—but her rapid footsteps could still be heard. She had cast some kind of invisibility spell—most likely not to ambush him, but to run back and cast another spell without being seen. If she needed to hide to do this, it had to be exceedingly powerful. Taph couldn’t afford to let her pull it off.
Now that he’d lost his weapon, he had to improvise. He grabbed a tripwire from his toolbelt and unravelled it to its longest possible length, essentially turning it into an extremely long nunchaku. He ran in the direction of the footsteps and, holding the tripwire from one of its poles, swung it ahead like a rope in an attempt to catch her.
It worked flawlessly—the transparent wire wrapped around her torso tightly, stopping her in her tracks. Because she didn’t stop moving, she slipped and fell on her stomach, hitting her head on her own staff she was holding. At the exact same time, her invisibility spell timed out, leaving her fully opaque and completely helpless.
Taph kicked her body to the side, making her lie on her back. Then, he raised his leg and shot it down to bash her skull—but at the last moment, she deflected it with her staff. That’s when he used his other foot to stomp on her abdomen with full force, shifting it left and right to cause as much damage as possible. This time it landed, making her cry out in pain as her insides were about to implode. He was wearing his sturdy work boots, which felt as hard as rock, and every single hit from him felt like a hammer.
He attempted to stomp her again, this time aiming for the ribcage. She tried to dodge him by rolling aside—but the tripwire that had wrapped itself around her kept her from moving very far. Because of this, he managed to land the hit again, audibly breaking a rib or two.
Dusekkar stared at them in horror. He never stopped struggling and shuffling around, desperately trying to free himself—and while the vines did seem to loosen up a bit, he was still unable to do anything.
“Taph! Stop this right now! Please! Taph!”
No matter how much he yelled, it was as if the demolitionist couldn’t hear him. Or, more likely, he didn’t care. He continued stomping on her and kicking her mercilessly, every single hit being filled with all the anger that had accumulated in him over the past two months. The admins who had made his life hell, the realisation that he was being taken advantage of, the number of times random people had attacked him in the street, how helpless he’d been feeling all this time without being given a single chance to fight back.
Finally, he had a chance to unleash his wrath.
He wasn’t infuriated at Cerulean herself. As he looked down at her battered, bloodied face, he didn’t feel an ounce of scorn. He felt nothing. He had forgotten why he’d even started attacking her, he just knew that it made him feel amazing. He was powerful.
She had completely stopped blocking him with her staff—he assumed she had accepted her fate of getting senselessly beaten by him. However, this couldn’t be further from the truth.
While she simply allowed him to inflict unimaginable pain on her with every single hit, she was slowly and carefully moving her staff in one of her hands. She’d been doing that for the past minute, carefully following through all 30 strokes of the powerful spell she was preparing. She didn’t panic—in fact, she seemed relatively composed considering the circumstances. That’s because she knew he was too preoccupied with his own emotions to spot her trick.
Without warning, an unsuspecting black bolt fired from her staff, hitting him. All of his muscles froze in place and then went limp. He fell on his back like a ragdoll. Elongated black blobs started coming out from his bandana, and in a matter of seconds, they entered Cerulean’s body. It was Taph’s energy. The very signals his brain sent to his body, along with the movements his muscles were supposed to make—all stolen by her.
Dusekkar gasped. He recognised this spell from the black magic tome he’d found on her bedside table—it was Energy Leech. Black magic spells may be immensely powerful, but they also took a great toll on the user in the long term. Did she not realise this?
Cerulean, who could hardly move before from the horrific injuries Taph had caused her, now managed to sit up with ease. The pain was still very much there, and it was even more unbearable than before—but she felt a thousand times more powerful and motivated, which allowed her to simply shrug it off. She crawled over to Taph, sitting on top of him. She was dragging her knees on his splayed wings, which made him feel a sharp pain—but he knew it was still a fraction of all the pain he’d caused her.
He went from cruel and wrathful to completely terrified in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t speak up to beg her for mercy. He couldn’t even show her his eyes. He was trapped in his own body.
“Number one rule of fighting a mage,” Cerulean muttered with her usual mysterious expression, “never let them play around with their staff.”
She grabbed his neck with both of her bruised hands and held it as tightly as she humanly could. She put every last bit of strength into her grip, intending to strangle all life out of him. The only thing Taph could do was raise his trembling hands and put them on her wrists, in a lame attempt to resist—but it was completely futile.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of doing this. You don’t even remember who I am, but I’ve never forgotten.”
Dusekkar was screaming for Cerulean to stop. The thorny vines had already ripped through his robes and made him bleed due to how much he’d been writhing—but he was desperate to stop this from happening. Taph was bound to die if he didn’t do anything. He was going to watch him die for nothing. He knew he was going to die. That same thought kept spinning around his head, making him sick. He would never feel his embrace again, he would never be able to spend time with him in ways he’d always dreamed of, he would never be able to tell him how he truly felt.
The pumpkin’s voice didn’t register at all in Cerulean’s hand. The only thing her mind was focused on was killing Taph. He was coughing uncontrollably, swinging his head left and right because it was just about the only thing he could do. Once again, he hid his eyes with his broken head wings—what normally seemed like a cute reflex was now his last remaining instinct for survival. As he was being shaken, something quietly fell out of one of his pockets—but nobody paid attention to that. He felt like he was lost in space, unable to get any oxygen. However, the deer girl quickly snapped him back to reality.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself. I hope you’re proud to live with the fact that you’re a fucking murderer!” she screamed, wildly shaking him around. Normally her expression looked so calm and innocent, but now she had turned into nothing more than a beast. “You don’t deserve to live in this world—it would be better without you and all of the atrocities you commit. And you seriously think you could get away with it? You’re pathetic.”
Despite trying to look stoic, tears had welled up in her onyx-black eyes. As Taph’s grip on her wrists started getting weaker, they finally started flowing. Her voice was beginning to break.
“You killed my fucking family! You’ve probably forgotten all about it now, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I wanted to help the rescue squad, still hoping to find somebody alive. It took me the entire night, and I was about to pass out from exhaustion. I was the one who found the first body. It was Father. He was crushed so badly, I couldn’t even recognise him… You monster! I hope you burn in hell!”
Her warm tears were dripping down on Taph’s robes. Her face was completely unrecognisable: a long stream of tears was coming out of her eyes, mixed with the blood of her broken nose and the other scars left on her. Imprints of mud scattered her face, which had been applied by Taph’s dirty work boots. Her entire body was trembling. Shivers were running throughout her joints and the world around her felt deathly cold. For some reason, she was terrified.
“I keep having the same nightmare every single night, and you’re always in it. Every time, you take it all away from me. Everything important to me. And tonight, you fucking did it again, but this time it’s a reality. You repulsive bastard! You deserve to die! Maybe if I kill you, you’ll finally leave me alone. If I kill you, I’ll finally be free of reliving that day. Stop looking at me! Just die already! Please, die...”
Cerulean couldn’t speak anymore—all she could do was sob uncontrollably. Taph had stopped resisting or even moving at all—but she could feel his eyes from under his hood. Despite that, maintaining her grip on his neck was becoming more and more difficult.
She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to kill him. However, she knew that killing him was going to be the only way for her to get rid of all those nightmares. She was about to become a murderer as well. Perhaps she was no better than him.
“Stop looking at me like that. Just die... Just die already... Please... Leave me alone...”
She’d never killed anybody before. Not even a cryptid. After what Taph had done to her, she scorned murderers more than anything in this world. And yet, she was going to become one of them.
Cerulean looked back, where she saw Dusekkar lying in his own prison of thorns. His clothes were ripped and bloody—perhaps the pain had become too much for him to struggle anymore. His mouth was moving, he was trying to say something—but the powerful ringing in her ears didn’t let her perceive anything.
Didn’t he say Taph was very dear to him?
God, what was she doing!? She was no less of a monster than Taph was.
She turned back to the demolitionist and slowly let go of his throat. Her hands were shaking violently. All of the muscles and ligaments on her hands hurt from gripping him so hard. She stared at them in disbelief, not wanting to accept that those really were her own hands.
Grabbing her staff, Cerulean got on her feet and slowly walked over to Dusekkar. He was looking at her blankly—it was impossible to tell just what was going through his mind. She cast a simple spell, and within seconds, all of the vines surrounding him swam over to her staff like tadpoles, finally setting him free. He heaved himself off the ground, every piece of skin on his body aching. After going through so much distress, his mind had gone numb and he had a hard time feeling anything—but was bound to hit him like a truck very soon. The pumpkin looked at her, trying to read her expression—but her messy grey hair completely covered her eyes.
“Ceru…?”
As soon as she heard him say her name, she dropped to her knees. The sheer amount of adrenaline flowing through her veins was starting to get washed away, which made her finally feel the true pain of the injuries Taph had inflicted on her. She tried to force herself to stop crying, but the tears continued flowing, and it became even more powerful.
She felt just as powerless as that dreadful day. Except now, it was all her fault. She wasn’t even strong enough to go through and finish the job. She was always this weak, but she pretended to be strong in order to make up for all the times she’d been forced to follow destiny’s cruel whims.
It tore Dusekkar’s heart in pieces to see her like this. It didn’t register in his head what she’d just done—his instincts kicked in, and he wanted to protect her in any way he could. He tried to pat her shoulder and comfort her, but she immediately pushed him away.
“Stay away from me!” she barked. “I don’t need you and I never did!”
“Ceru, you aren’t being yourself. Try to remember everything—”
“None of that matters anymore! You never told me you were an admin until it was too late. The entire time, you were playing with my trust, and you thought you would get away with it. Well, now you’re dead to me! Don’t you dare show your face to me ever again!”
He couldn’t say anything to her. She was right. He dreaded this exact thing happening, and now it did, at the worst time possible. Maybe if he had told her earlier, things would’ve ended differently...
Dusekkar quietly walked over to Taph to check his condition. He was still splayed on the floor where Cerulean had strangled him, completely unresponsive. A terrible chill ran down the mage’s spine. What if he really was dead? What if he was never going to wake up?
He kneeled down next to him and staggered to check his pulse. His heart was still beating. He was breathing, but barely. Dusekkar fetched his staff and cast a quick spell on him to fill up his lungs with oxygen. It was one of the spells in the mandatory First Aid Magic course he’d had to take. Immediately, Taph’s breathing stabilised. He still wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, but this greatly increased his odds.
Dusekkar picked him up and walked past the crying Cerulean to get to the front door. He wanted to say so many things to her—from expressing his complete disgust at her actions, to reassuring her and trying to make her feel better—but with the state that she was in right now, it was impossible.
It broke him that he was forced to desert her and potentially never see her again. However, he had no other choice.
And so, they were gone.
Notes:
I listened almost exclusively to femtanyl while writing this. That might have turned this chapter into an even more of a trainwreck than it already is.
Chapter 14
Notes:
OKAY SO I nearly finished what is now Chapter 15, which I was struggling with... Then I thought, "Oh why not write this scene while at it?". However, it turned out to be so unrelated to Chapter 15 that I separate it into two chapters. This means that you should probably expect the new chapter tomorrow!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cerulean could hardly believe what had just happened.
Finally she was beginning to trust Dusekkar completely and show him how much she appreciated him. And yet, he led the man who destroyed her life and who haunted her in her dreams right to her. He let him beat her to the brink of death. And in the end of it all?
She had come out a murderer.
She was sure she’d killed Taph. She’d been clutching his throat for well over a minute, and the Energy Leech spell must have been the lethal blow, preventing him from recovering his breathing. Dusekkar had carried away his lover’s soon-to-be corpse. At least, she suspected they were lovers.
Cerulean had dreamt of doing this all her life. Finally, she had some sense of closure. Finally, she’d had her revenge. However, for some reason she didn’t feel fulfilled. She simply felt numb. Partially this was due to the pumpkin’s betrayal, but mostly she felt like a bad person. Her conscience had been sullied with his blood, and now it was never going to go away.
She groaned from her injuries. God, how much she was hurting. Her entire body had been shattered in pieces, and there was nobody to take care of her now. As much as she resented being helpless and having somebody else do most things instead of her, she was forced to admit that she did miss that feeling. She missed Dusekkar not because he made her life easier, but just because she felt like she wasn’t suffering alone. Now, she was forced to recover on her own again.
Cerulean swore she’d seen a spell she could use to fully heal all of her own injuries. She limped her way to her bedroom and scoured through her shelves until she managed to find a tome with a plain front, simply entitled, “Powerful Spells for Self-Preservation”. The cover was made of black leather, and it was still relatively new—all traits of a black magic tome. She’d received most of those from her old friend Azure—however, she hadn’t heard from him since April, nor from his oddball of a partner.
She sifted through the pages until she found the spell she’d been thinking of. Corpse Refresh. As its name suggested, it was mostly to be used to prevent a dead body from decomposing—however, it was mentioned that it worked on living beings and it could be used on oneself as well, so she didn’t think much of it.
Cerulean carefully looked at the steps. It contained plenty of complicated strokes she wasn’t familiar with, but it didn’t pose much of a problem to her. After about a dozen of failed attempts, she successfully cast Corpse Refresh on herself—and in no time, all of her pain suddenly went away. Her broken bones reattached themselves, her smashed nose returned back to its shape, her knocked-out teeth grew back, her stab in the arm closed itself, and all of her bruises were gone. She felt like a brand-new person.
Was it seriously that easy, after the horrific beating she’d suffered? Dusekkar had warned her once that there were serious side effects to it—but there was no way could be that bad. She had been forced to use black magic. She’d used Energy Leech to save her own life, and now she used Corpse Refresh to save herself from potentially dying from those injuries. She was not about to use black magic for the smallest things, after all.
Cerulean came back to the living room in order to clean up the mess that had been caused. She kept coughing along the way, but she choked it down to her illness not going away.
The cookies were still spilled on the floor next to the front door. They were the third batch. For the first ones she’d added way too much flour, and for the second ones she’d overbaked them. Many of them had been crushed by the tray, so she picked up one of the few that were still intact and took a bite. Hmm… Way too sweet. Dusekkar wouldn’t like them.
Dusekkar.
She tried not to care, but in truth, he never left her mind.
She’d lived for so long without him, and she’d outwardly told him that she didn’t need him. Several times, actually. Just how much of a truth was that?
Cerulean suppressed her feelings and went outside to toss the cookies/cookie crumbs in Gubby’s food bowl. That creature could eat absolutely anything, so slightly messed-up sweets were also part of its diet. Dusekkar had taught her not to be so scared of it anymore, and he helped her so much that now she was even able to pet it whenever she wanted to.
However, right now it was weirdly missing.
The deer girl returned to the living room and continued tidying up, essentially picking up the pieces of what had just happened. She was arguably the one that had been hit the hardest by all of this—but she remained stoic. She could never show weakness, not even in front of herself.
As she was collecting trash from the floor, she spotted an unfamiliar notebook near the fireplace. Top to bottom, it was bandaged up in stickers, and some of them were depictions of the admins. She scoffed in disgust. The most prominent character there (besides the same ridiculous-looking anime girl with red hair whose twin tails looked more like drills) was Dusekkar. Now her curiosity was piqued.
Cerulean started reading it from the beginning. And…
*
I’ve always wondered what your pumpkin tastes like. Mind sharing a bite?
Bold of you to assume I give out free samples. You’ll have to give something in return—your turkey sandwich is ample.
But I’ve been starving...
*
It was a mess, really.
*
X | O | O
O | X | X X
O | X | O
*
A charming mess.
*
Telamon’s been giving me a lot more work recently—I’ve had to demolish an entire 24 houses just this morning. But I’m managing!
Are you sure this is not too much? A human is not made to work as such.
Don’t worry about me, I’m not the one who matters here. I’m doing this job because there’s nobody else for it, and it does make me feel fulfilled.
You need a break, Taph. I’ll see to it that Telamon stops overworking our staff.
You don’t have to, really.
*
It didn’t take her long to figure two people wrote in it—one with neat, cursive, almost girly handwriting—she recognised it as Dusekkar’s—and one with uneven, inconsistent, barely comprehensible handwriting—it was a person who the pumpkin referred to as “Taph”. The latter did most of the writing in there.
It had to be the hooded man. The one who ruined her life.
*
Stop! Don’t show them those photos! They’re embarrassing.
I thought it was going to be a secret that we separated from them at the carnival. If they learn only the two of us went to the Ferris wheel, they’re going to start calling us weirdos :(
Now that you say it, I guess I am sort of a weirdo. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t one either!
I just know you’re teasing me now. Don’t tempt me, Dusky. If you don’t stop, I’m going to draw you but with caca instead of a pumpkin as your head.
(The next page was entirely taken up by a particularly soily portrait of Dusekkar. Somehow, he still exuded a certain charm, as well as the signature soily smell. Some of the lines had been mistaken very unintentionally—it was obvious somebody had tried to stop Taph from drawing this.)
*
It was all just random, mostly monologous conversations, as well as doodles. She had to admit—the one with the bad handwriting had a really good artstyle. She felt a little uneasy that she was essentially reading somebody else’s diary—but he was already dead, so it’s not like it mattered anyways.
He was dead.
She’d killed him.
*
It’s okay, none of this is your fault, Dusky. I know it’s become too much for you. Please, don’t cry.
It’s normal to do this every once in a while, don't feel like you're doing something bad. I’ll always be here whenever you need me, and you can tell me anything that makes you worry. No matter how silly it is, I’ll listen.
No, you’re wrong. You’ve helped me in so many ways, and I don’t know what I could do without you. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met, and the only one who lets me talk to them like this. Hearing you out is the least I could do.
*
The more she sifted through the pages, the more a certain sadness began to creep up her throat. It was overwhelming, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Impatient, she jumped to the bookmarked page, which was pretty close to the end. It was the newest page with any kind of writing, dated 2 months ago. The top was pretty innocent, with Taph asking Dusekkar what’s wrong and why he looks so sad today. Below it was another one of those doodles—it was the pumpkin himself with a particularly devious expression, pointing at the comically realistic nose he had. Cerulean found herself chuckling without even realising it—but she immediately stopped once she caught herself.
Below it, there were three lines of text. They had been written by Taph, with a different pen, obviously in a rush. It was likely from sometime later, and the tone was very different.
Her eyes began to quiver.
*
I don’t know how to express how happy I am that you’re here.
Life is very difficult without you. I can’t keep going like this.
Please never leave again. I just want to stay by your side.
*
The word “leave” was dirtied by Cerulean’s tears. Those were tears of regret.
Notes:
By the way, don't worry if you see the planned chapter count increase. I already have the key scenes I want to write laid out in a document, there's about 9 or 10 of them. Since I realised that putting multiple of them in the same chapter, separated by my beloved three asterisks *, * and * (their names are Aster, Risk, and Jabroney) isn't a good idea as all of them are too disconnected, I'll probably separate them into shorter chapters, similar to the length of the chapters from the beginning of this fic. Hopefully some of them will only take me a day to write.
Chapter 15
Notes:
Fuck it. Two chapters in one day, to make up for the extra long wait. You can't stop me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Heavy footsteps pattered on the damp ground. The overpowering buzz of crickets was the only thing winning the fight against silence. The unbreakable darkness stretched on for infinity. Cryptids were even more ruthless at night—who knows what was lurking in there.
They had lost everything in a matter of minutes. Their home, their family, their reason to live. The only thing they had was the person they were carrying, lying comatose in their arms.
They despised him.
After some time of walking, Dusekkar stumbled upon a familiar place. An abandoned cabin surrounded by mushrooms. In front of them lay a giant jug on the ground with traces of a red substance inside of it. This was what was left of Kool Killer after they killed him. The fight with him was one of their first near-death experiences since resigning, so they remembered it very well.
The pumpkin turned back to the cabin and walked through the doorless entrance. The place’s signature sickly-sweet stench was still there, but a lot less oppressive than before. With no one to maintain it, the liquid was bound to evaporate, even though traces of it still remained smeared across the walls and floor. It was clear Kool Killer spent the most time in the kitchen—that’s where most of the red was gathered.
The cabin didn’t seem to have been abandoned for too long, and there was only a moderate amount of dust and cobwebs in the other rooms. Dusekkar set the demolitionist down on an old mattress in the bedroom. It was stained and partly crushed, likely because Kool Killer had been sleeping on it—but it was still better than nothing.
As they looked at the sleeping Taph, they admired him and stroked his wings. They still had no idea where they could’ve gotten them from—likely this had to do with them having been created by Telamon and sharing some of his biology. But just how had Telamon grown his wings anyway?
The more they looked at him, the more a feeling of resentment started building up in their mind. If he hadn’t returned, none of this would’ve happened. If it weren’t for him, Cerulean would’ve never been pushed to her limits and started hating Dusekkar. Hell, if it weren’t for him, Cerulean’s family never would’ve been killed in the first place.
Despite everything the guardian had done to both them and Taph, they still cared about her. The demolitionist had hurt her in unimaginable ways—not only did he scar her so much mentally, but he also beat her to the brink of death.
When they heard her retell about how she felt when she lost her family, it really struck a chord with them, and they didn’t know why. Or rather, they struggled to remember. It also resonated with them how she was forced to become part of an illegal gear ring just to survive and rebuild her life, no matter how much she disliked it. This was because Dusekkar had also become an admin in order to escape their dark past, even though they didn’t really want to.
It had been Telamon who had offered them to become an admin, and it was them and only them. It had appeared out of the blue, with him personally coming to his lonely, isolated home, and telling them they had great talent and would be the perfect addition to the admin team. It had been an enticing offer, and being so young and inexperienced with the outside world, they agreed without hesitation, underestimating just how much stress that position would bring them. They couldn’t do anything at first due to how little time they had spent in the city beforehand, but not after long they had become a master at deescalating conflicts and solving problems. Telamon had been right—they made for one of the best admins Roblox had ever had.
There was something special about Dusekkar. They were still young, and yet they were like a living encyclopaedia for spells. They could learn new things with ease, and they could move their staff flawlessly. Even after not having used magic at all during their admin years, their rust went away only days after picking up a staff again. No normal person was able to do so much in so little time.
The more Dusekkar thought about this, the more a distinctive panic began to set in. They did use to have a family. What happened to it? Vague images from their past were creeping their way up their mind.
The forest floor turning into a sea.
Unstoppable waves sweeping everything in their way.
Bodies taken by the rifts, never to be seen again.
A cataclysm.
And somehow, Dusekkar had woken up unscathed. Their fire in them was perfectly intact, protected by their sturdy pumpkin shell.
They didn’t remember how they’d survived...
Their breathing quickened.
A very peculiar phrase spun around their head: eternal flame.
The Eternal Flame spell.
Ever since 1x had mentioned it to them a couple weeks prior, they couldn’t get it out of their mind. After all, they were an eternal flame themself—it served as their soul, their life fuel. They had never met anybody with a biology quite like theirs. Perhaps this was not what they had always looked like—something had made them turn out like this. The Eternal Flame spell.
The more they tried to recall what had happened, the more their head was starting to hurt. Or was it really their head? There was nothing but fire behind their shell—most likely that sensation was nothing more than an illusion. Their entire anatomy was trying its best to convince them that they were a normal human who just so happened to have a pumpkin on their head. They had always brushed it off because they assumed they had simply inherited it from their family.
Their family, who had been wiped out, who they didn’t even remember a glimpse of.
Oh no.
The pain was getting too much.
They had ventured so deep into their own past that they started getting sick. Darkness was beginning to overtake their vision.
In these situations, Taph had taught them to simply focus on their breathing, not letting any intrusive thoughts haunt them. That’s exactly what they did, and over time, the world around them started to clear up. They closed their eyes and tightly held onto the demolitionist’s limp hand as they cleared their mind. It felt like they were being rescued from a black hole.
As soon as they thought they had reached a sense of calm, they looked at Taph again and instantly pulled away from his hand. The terror of the fight they had just witnessed returned once again, and it felt like their thoughts were moving in a vicious loop.
A question that had always been burning at the back of their mind came to light. Just how had he found where they lived?
It was no wonder that he had looked for them, especially since they had been too overcome with emotion to give him any explanation as to why they had resigned. However, the fact that he actually found them with no leads whatsoever at all was highly suspicious. The only person who knew more about their past was Shedletsky, but he can’t have agreed to give Taph any clues, for he already knew very well why Dusekkar had quit.
This left only one person.
1x1x1x1.
As soon as this terrifying revelation hit Dusekkar, their thoughts were interrupted. Taph started shuffling around the mattress. He was waking up. They sighed in relief—they had been worried he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon due to Cerulean’s spell.
As soon as he came back to reality, his body shot up and he started gasping for air in a panic. His hands were near his neck, clearly looking to touch something. Poor thing still thought he was being strangled.
“Taph, worry not! You’re safe here, free of scot.”
The demolitionist looked around, and as soon as he saw Dusekkar looking down at him, he sighed in relief. He was alive. For the third time in the past 12 hours, somebody had tried to kill him, and for the second time, he had fallen unconscious due to him nearly dying. And he was still alive after all of this.
He was tired. So tired of everything. People would never leave him alone.
Without even realising it, he’d started sniffling. Tears were beginning to escape his hidden eyes. He’d always barred himself from crying—but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He’d felt an unquenchable fury when he was fighting Cerulean, so much so that he didn’t even remember what he’d done there.
A wave of guilt hit him like a truck. She didn’t deserve whatever he had done to her.
Now, after that display of egotism, all he could feel was pity for himself. He’d never realised just how much people saw him as a doormat until recently, and that was only thanks to somebody he’d met on the street.
No matter how much he tried, he would never be good enough. Even the smallest error would lead to the most tragic of consequences, such as how he’d killed a girl’s entire family just by mistaking the address. An error that people would never stop shunning him for, an error that left him with never-ending regret haunting him. Maybe he really did deserve all the pain he’d gone through, and it was karma doing its work. Despite all of his efforts to make up for it, Taph knew he was not a good person at heart.
No sooner had Dusekkar noticed Taph crying than they sat on the mattress next to him and embraced him.
“It’s all resolved; nothing bad is going to happen to you anymore,” he whispered. “I’ll always be by your side. I won’t let anybody hurt you until I die.”
All that fear and self-loathing was gradually being replaced by a sense of tranquillity. He hugged the pumpkin back, so tightly that he could hardly breathe. That’s right. Dusekkar was here, and this meant that everything was going to be okay. They were the only one who truly cared about him, the only one who could understand him despite his inability to express himself, and as long as they were with him, he would never have to worry about going all of his plights again.
Still embracing him, Dusekkar cupped his face with their other hand. They’d known him for so long, but they’d never had the opportunity to see him from up close. They didn’t even know what he looked like—and that’s why they wanted to take the next step. Taph didn’t seem to mind at all, not letting go of them even slightly.
Before trying to take the hood off, they wanted to caress his head wings and get a feel for them as well. As soon as they touched their left one, however, he gasped and pulled their head away in pain. They remembered—this one had been injured by Cerulean during the fight. It was twisted in an unnatural angle unlike the other wing—an important bone had obviously been broken.
“Ah, excuse me! I’ll be back in a wee.”
Dusekkar somehow managed to break free from the demolitionist’s grasp, which left him confused. They went to fetch their staff and came back.
It was the staff that Cerulean had gifted them.
“Taph, stand still,” they ordered as they stood beside him. “This might hurt.”
The demolitionist obliged. Dusekkar spun their staff around and shot a simple healing cloud out of it before touching his broken head wing and setting it in its right place. He grunted in pain for a couple of seconds—but then, after the healing had achieved its effect, it all went away. When they let go, Taph flapped his head wings a bit without any problem. He had been scared his injury would’ve been a problem for him—but all of a sudden, it was gone in a matter of seconds! He patted Dusekkar on the back as a way to say thank you. However, they weren’t done.
“By the way, do you have injuries anywhere else? Your sluggishness during the fight left me as such to guess.”
He nodded. He pointed to his stomach. His collarbone. His ribcage. His jaw. His knee. His foot.
Dusekkar swiftly healed all of these places to the extent of their capabilities. In the end, Taph visibly felt a lot better. However, the mage still had a lot of questions. The more injuries he mentioned, the more concerned their expression became.
“Goodness, just how did you manage to be hurt with in glumness?”
The demolitionist stood still for a couple of seconds, wondering how to explain this to them. Then, they started signing:
“👿👥👥🤜💣🗓. 👥🙏👆💣☠️.”
Many evil people attack Taph today. People want Taph dead.
“Today!? You went through so much in the past hours, I'm sorry... Those people were protestors, weren't they?”
He nodded. “⭕️❓👆💣🫱🫱. 💣🤏➡️☠️, ↪️🎃⚒⛑️💣.”
This is why Taph has wings. Taph almost dies, but Dusekkar’s friend saves him.
“Friend? Other than you and the admins, I hardly have any friend. A name, could you append?”
“1️⃣✖️1️⃣✖️1️⃣✖️1️⃣”
1x1x1x1.
Notes:
Consider the couple of chapters after Chapter 13 as the calm after the storm, if you will. But more accurately, it would be the calm before the storm.
I've been writing way too much today I should probably go to sleep LMAO
Chapter Text
“This is the last place I expected to see you, kiddo.”
Shedletsky spoke to its creation through the glass screen of the visitation cell. It had been half a day since it had turned itself in. Detectives had tried interrogating it, but it was impossible for them to get any information out of it. It just kept insisting that it had done it.
Taph had been missing since yesterday afternoon and they questioned it on this as well, but the only thing it repeated was something along the lines of, “You’re never going to see him again”.
It felt a sense of uncontrollable rage building up in it from simply being in the same room as its creator, but it tried to hold it in for the time being. Looking down, it started reprimanding him:
“218 people died at my hands because you were too slow to catch me. 218 people, because you cared too much about your own comfort. I am a manifestation of all your suffering and my only reason to live is to cause more of it. What’s your excuse for keeping me alive for so long?”
Shedletsky didn’t flinch at the harsh truth thrown against him. His eyes were filled with resolve.
“You’re right, I don’t have an excuse. That’s why I’ve finally decided. I’m going to do what you’ve always been begging me to. I’m going to kill you.”
What.
1x cackled chillingly, at the sheer ridiculousness of Shedletsky’s statement.
“You’re doing too little too late, Creator. I’ve realised that I do want to live. The past couple of weeks, the tables have been starting to turn, and you know it, for you’re starting to get a taste of the negativity you’ve pushed onto me.”
1x wasn’t lying. Taph had finally exposed it to kindness, and it had learned what it was like to reciprocate that kindness. It had learned that human nature was not inherently evil and that there was still hope for this world, that most of its suffering was caused by its clouded judgement. 1x was not meant to experience love—but that didn’t make it completely unable to do so, it just made it unbelievably difficult.
Before trying to become a better person, the entity simply wanted to fulfil its lifelong goals; to act on the plans it had been devising ever since it had been thrown in the Banlands. Those were to kill its creator and to torture Dusekkar as much as possible before killing them as well. The latter was already taken care of, now it wanted to do the former.
Although... it had a gut feeling. Something wasn’t right.
Its plan had been relatively simple: it wanted to bring Taph to Dusekkar, which would inadvertently force him to meet that vengeful Cerulean; a fight to the death would ensue, and in the end one or both of them would be killed. It had calculated everything—from getting Taph’s trust to keeping him safe from the protestors, to choosing this exact time to lead him to Cerulean. There had been a couple of unprecedented things, such as Taph growing wings or it starting to actually care about it—but that didn’t get in the way.
But in the end… Both the demolitionist and the forest guardian were alive. Dusekkar was likely hurt, but not nearly enough.
1x felt a little bad for using Taph as nothing more than a tool—but after all, his hatred for the former admin far outweighed his respect for the hooded man... Right?
...
It really was no better than him, was it?
“Frankly, I couldn’t care less about how you feel, 1x,” Shedletsky remarked. “You’re going down, whether you like it or not. I want my humanity back, and you’re the only thing that stops me from having it.”
“You’re acting as if I don’t deserve humanity at all. You assume that I’m nothing but a collection of your emotions detached from you, but that’s wrong. I may be a psychopath, but I am still my own person, with my own experiences and feelings drowned by your suffering. I can’t stand for this anymore. I intended to kill the other admins first, but now I simply want to kill you.”
There was only one reason for 1x to turn itself in. It was not because it wanted to take accountability for its crimes, but because it wanted to trap Shedletsky into a corner. Now that the arrest of the Heartpiercer was being publicised, the admins would get more pressure than ever before to either end its life or terminate it—there was no going around this.
It was the perfect opportunity for 1x to fight its creator.
“Pfft, good luck, kiddo,” Shedletsky laughed. “Doombringer has already scheduled your execution. You’re going to get beheaded, by yours truly.”
“Not so fast. You don’t realise I’ve retained some of Telamon’s god powers, do you? Just like how I escaped the Banlands despite all of Dusekkar and Doombringer’s efforts, I’m going to escape incarceration with no struggle—and then, I’m going to ambush you when you least expect. You have two choices: either you wait to execute me, which would most likely backfire, or the two of us have a fair SFOTH duel to the death. Whatever you decide, the odds are stacked against you.”
Shedletsky had no way of knowing whether 1x was bluffing or whether it would actually be able to escape successfully. Either way, he didn’t want to risk it. So, he made the only seemingly reasonable choice:
“You want to fight so bad, huh? Well, then be it. I haven’t had the time to be in a proper SFOTH round in a while—but you’re still challenging the best swordsman in all of Robloxia.”
“I would’ve been somewhat scared of you if you didn’t have such a belly. Get a grip.”
The admin instinctively touched his belly. Now that it mentioned this, how had he ever allowed his weight to become so bad?
“I may be chubby—but behind all that fat is muscle, baby!” He turned over to the guard in 1x’s visitation cell. He was smiling confidently, for the first time in weeks. “Get the creature escorted to Sword Fights on the Heights. I’ll be giving it its special execution.”
“A-A-Are you sure, sir? You’re putting your life at—”
“You heard me, didn’t you? Now get to it!”
“Y-Yes!”
In seconds, 1x was taken away. It gave its creator one last scornful look, its Unstable Eye blinding him.
* * *
A helicopter was flying high in the air, high above the SFOTH arena. Dozens of geometric islands were raised high in the sky, with nothing but a white void lurking below them. Shedletsky had had so many matches in there that he’d memorised the entire map in his head. It’d used to be just a game—but now that its respawning properties have been revoked, if you died in this game, you died in real life as well.
The creator and its creation spawned on two opposite signs of the arena. Thanks to its favourable spawn point, 1x was able to immediately get its hands on the Venomshank—its weapon of choice. It would kill people with an illegally modified Venomshank, so this battle was not going to be that much different from all of the slaughter it would commit every day.
Trying to find its creator, it pulled on its Unstable Eye to get a view of his aura, before walking on one of the ground fans to launch itself high in the air, giving it a view of the entire map. It spotted him on a thin bridge above the fire ring, making his way to the four grey conveyors in order to go up to the island with the white pillars—the place where his favourite sword, the Illumina, was resting. Since there was only one way in and one way out, 1x intended to catch him by surprise as he extracted the sword and leave him with no escape. However, if it wanted to achieve this, it needed to be quick.
As it was falling to the ground, it spun around and shot two daggers toward him—an Entaglement shot. The margin of error to successfully hit him was so incredibly slim—from being on the same elevation as him, to predicting his exact movements from 100 metres away. Luckily, 1x was no stranger to aiming, and in the end the daggers lodged themselves perfectly into his back, paralysing him until he cleared those excess thoughts away.
This gave 1x enough time to catch up to it. It landed on an island next to the fire ring at the centre of the arena, and it quickly crossed the wobbly platforms to reach it. By then, Shedletsky had managed to get out of his ensnarement. He knew his creation had to be nearby, so he took a careful look around. The swordsman spotted it trying to get to his bridge from below, using its Venomshank to leap into the air.
It had already gotten its hands on a better weapon? That wasn’t good.
Since the admin had spotted the entity in time, he reacted accordingly—he slashed it in the torso right as it was about to reach him. However, this didn’t deter it—it successfully landed on his platform and stabbed him in the arm as it did. Powerful venom invaded his veins and he could feel his body getting weaker—but just a single hit wasn’t nearly enough to defeat him.
1x was expecting a retaliatory slash from its creator—however, that’s not quite what he did. Instead, he started running toward Illumina’s island. He was seriously ignoring the fact that the entity could catch up to him with its better sword—was he stupid?
However, after a bit of chasing, he spun around in 180 degrees and slashed 1x in its sword-wielding arm. Before it could react, he tripped its leg and promptly pushed it off the narrow bridge, into the white abyss that lay at the bottom of the arena.
“You really fell for that, didn’t you?”
Shedletsky’s taunting words dispersed into the air as 1x took a freefall to hell. It tried to float back to the fire ring platform by swinging its Venomshank—but it was too slow and It missed it by only a couple of inches.
For a second, it thought it really was going to meet its demise. In the end, it was going to turn out as nothing more than a tool for its creator, being disposed of only when it started being too inconvenient for him. That thought alone filled it with rage.
Then, it remembered: there was a teleportation chamber below the fire ring! It could still get there in time!
As soon as it got near it, it slashed its sword to jump mid-air, allowing it to reach the secret room just in time. There were four differently coloured arches there, each leading to a separate location. 1x walked into the yellow arch, which transported it right to the island below Illumina’s.
Shedletsky was already on one of the metal conveyors, making his way up to the sword. Goddammit, it had arrived too late. As soon as 1x go on, he was now pulling Illumina out of its casing. The admin’s eyes glistened as he wielded the sword he was most famous with, ready to make the most out of it. He waited for 1x to reach the top, looking at it imposingly.
“Your weapon may counter mine—but I’ll be done with you before you even realise it,” he said with a smug grin.
“I admire your confidence. But you can’t lie to me. I can feel the fear you’ve pushed onto myself. Get ready!”
1x was the first one to strike, lunging at its creator before it had even finished its sentence. Before it could reach him, Shedletsky jumped and swung his sword, causing him to rise dozens of feet in the air and completely avoid the creature’s attack. 1x lost sight of him for a moment. As soon as it turned around and saw him lightly falling back to the platform like feather, it tried to jump in order to hit him again, this time from below. Before it could do that, Shedletsky caught it by surprise and kicked it in the face from mid-air, flinging it back.
“You’re slower than I expected, kid,” he chuckled as he landed perfectly on his feet. “Even our demolitionist has better reflexes than you.”
1x felt something in it snap as it was reminded of Taph. Its creator did nothing but throw insults at it and make his life as difficult as possible. He really was no different from it: he’d been created just to fulfil a niche purpose for Shedletsky, being treated as nothing more than an animal beyond that.
It bit its lip. It was going to save everything it wanted to tell him for later.
The admin dashed towards 1x, who was still lying supine, and swung his sword toward it. The creature promptly blocked his attack with its Venomshank, the weapons producing a metal clank upon contact. Due to its blade’s significantly bigger size, it could easily overpower him—but the Illumina’s lightness, as well as its sheer power, were not to be underestimated.
Shedletsky pulled away before trying to strike it a couple of more times—but he was always met with the same outcome. Since it was on the ground, he had a major advantage—but the Venomshank’s natural superiority over the Illumina made it hard for him to take leverage of this. After his unsuccessful hits, he took off into the air once again, most likely intending to stab 1x from above. As he was landing, his sword’s tip pointing straight down, set to land right on top of the creature. Not being fully familiar with what it was capable of, he didn’t realise just how risky his move was.
Meanwhile, 1x had predicted exactly what he was trying to do. It had recoiled both its Venomshank and its default sword back, wielding them in its two hands, clearly preparing an attack. Right as Shedletsky’s sword was about to reach it, it crawled back as much as it could. In the end, it wasn’t fast enough, and he managed to strike it in its lower leg when he landed. However, what 1x had in store for him was infinitely worse.
With a loud hiss, it launched a curved green projectile straight at him—a Mass Infection. Since he was practically next to it, he couldn’t run away. The impact of the shockwave sent him flying and knocked him back so much that it was a miracle he didn’t fall off the platform. The Illumina remained lodged in 1x’s calf.
Shedletsky’s back crashed into one of the white pillars on the island, causing his spinal cord to shatter. Normally he couldn’t feel any physical pain due to all of it being projected onto 1x—but now, it was so extreme that he couldn’t help but feel all of it. After having been spared of suffering for so long, this pain was fresh. It was raw. The Mass Infection had injected the poison from the unmodified Venomshank across his entire body, and now he could feel his organs failing in real time. He was coughing violently, and out of his mouth were coming out spatters of blood.
In the meantime, 1x had gotten back on its feet and it was slowly approaching its creator. He tried his hardest to stand up and get away, but his legs weren’t cooperating. When his own creation walked up to him, he started screaming. He was experiencing... Fear? It was the first pure, unadulterated emotion he’d felt in more than a year—and it was also going to be his last. Terror.
“I expected you to put up more of a fight, creator. You could say I’m somewhat disappointed, how easily I pwned the master pwner.” the creature spoke.
Its voice was as emotionless as always—but it could feel an inkling of pride brewing in it. Was this a taste of what it was like to be the mighty Shedletsky?
“Y-You monster! You heartless monster! You ruined my entire life, and now you’re acting like you have the right to kill me!”
He was looking straight at it, gritting his teeth in rage. That wave of negative emotions was overwhelming him, even more so than the pain.
“You brought all of this to yourself, by having me born and keeping me alive for so long. From now on, it’s going to be me who calls the shots, not you.”
For a moment, 1x turned away from him. It looked up at the helicopter flying high up in the sky. Most likely, the swordsman’s little admin buddies were hiding in there. What a bunch of cowards.
“I feel disgusted to have ever been a part of you, creator,” it uttered as it turned back to him. “You’re precisely what’s wrong with the nature of humans. You only care about yourself, and since you’re at the top, you get to exert all your power on those below you and make their lives miserable.
Do you remember Taph? You created him with the sole purpose of being you and Builderman’s slave. He was always trying his best, and you still always had the audacity to insult him. Now the entire nation hates him due to your bad moderation decisions, and the protestors almost killed him yesterday. The one who saved him was me.
Not only am I doing this to avenge myself, but also to avenge Taph, and every other creation of yours that you’ve treated so inhumanely.”
Shedletsky tried to speak, but he couldn’t—all he could do was cough uncontrollably. He was choking on his own blood. Seeing him like this, 1x felt a certain lightness in its throat. It was experiencing a twisted sense of euphoria, just by looking down at someone struggling to stay alive. No number of killings could make it feel so fulfilled.
“I hope you’re suffering right now, Creator. I hope you can feel even an ounce of the pain I’m forced to go through at every single moment of my existence. May your demise be just as pathetic as your existence.”
1x pulled out the Illumina that Shedletsky had lodged in its leg. Green blood started oozing out of the wound, but the creature didn’t even seem to notice. The shining sky-blue sword was illuminated by the overhead sun; the unhuman blood dripping from it didn’t take away from its glory.
The creature raised the sword up with both of its hands.
“I hope you rot in hell, just like me.”
1x1x1x1 plunged Illumina into Shedletsky’s heart, doing it with such power that its tip stuck out at the other end. Within seconds, he stopped squirming on the ground.
He was dead.
Killed in his own arena, with his own favourite sword, by his own hatred.
1x pulled the sword out of the corpse and took a couple steps back, simply observing it in awe. It had finally achieved one of the goals it had always been striving for.
After a bit, Shedletsky’s lifeless body started disintegrating. There was no blood in sight—instead, he was simply turning into white dust. Soon enough, no trace was left of him; what had used to be a being of flesh and bones was now nothing more than sand.
Then, the dust began moving towards 1x by itself. The creature was puzzled by this at first, but it decided to let it happen. The little bits of Shedletsky started congregating on 1x’s skin like ants, gathering at its feet and then making their way up its body. Soon enough, it was covered head-to-toe in a cocoon of its creator’s ashes.
The particles all began to fuse with 1x. It could feel them pierce into it like a thousand needles, rewriting its entire genetic code in the process. This was… painful. 1x1x1x1 was no stranger to pain and it had grown completely desensitised to it; that’s why it’d felt nothing when Shedletsky had stabbed it in the leg. However, now it was different. Now, it wasn’t programmed to tolerate pain anymore—it was programmed to avoid it at all costs.
The blood inside the creature was flowing back and forth without a purpose; it could feel it go through every vein and artery, even the tiniest vessels. It could feel the calm air brush up against every bit of its skin. It could feel every individual ray of lighthitting its Unstable Eye. It was an overstimulating experience—but also, an eye-opening one. Rather than feeling pain from anything that came in contact with it, it could now experience the earth like a normal human being. Rather than defaulting to fear and hopelessness and hatred, it was finally cleared of those unshakable emotions.
It looked at its hands, and what it saw surprised it. Rather than being pitch black, ot had become a pure white. As for its transparent torso, it was now sky blue, much like the Illumina it was carrying. Rather than being an incarnation of the Venomshank, it had now become an incarnation of the Illumina. It really had integrated bits of Shedletsky into itself.
The biggest surprise came when it felt something touching it on its back. When it looked behind, it saw it: a pair of angelic white wings exuding a powerful glow, attached to it. It tried to flap them around a couple of times, and sure enough, they moved.
Ever since 1x saw Taph grow his wings yesterday, it had been wanting a pair of its own—and now, they were already here. The creature... No, it wasn’t just a creature anymore. An angel. The angel couldn’t stop admiring themself. They had finally broken the mould. They were no longer simply a being made to embody hatred and instil fear onto everyone. They were now something more. Something beautiful.
1x1x1x1 had transformed into a new person.
Better than ever.
And yet...
They still felt like something had been left unfinished.
Notes:
it's 3am I AM SO TIRED but I forced myself to finish this chapter just for you.. ^^
This chapter was kind of a pain to write. I had to watch SFOTH videos and read the SFOTH wiki just to make the fight similar to the real SFOTH. Hopefully it turned out well...
I'm pretty sure I was going to say more thing hsere but I forgot my mind isn't workinb very muchrihgtn now
Chapter 17
Notes:
I'm soon going to start working on a new fic/series, so keep your eyes peeled. It's not going to be Dusetaph-focused (though I definitely plan to write more Dusetaph in the future it's my OTP I love them so much), it's also going to be a lot more fluffy than this fic... At least in comparison. Expect some Buildermon action, and also more Dusekkar action.
This chapter was fun to write (:
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been a couple of days since Dusekkar had left. Cerulean had been trying to live like the time before she’d met him, but it was difficult. She’d tucked all of her conflicting emotions deep into her mind, putting her default hatred towards the admins over everything.
It was late in the evening, and she’d just finished eating the soup whose recipe she had learned from Dusekkar. She had changed a couple of ingredients to make sure it fit perfectly to her tastes, and in the end it turned out heavenly.
The past couple of days the cryptids had been a lot calmer and less frequent than before, which was quite refreshing—she remembered just how bad they had used to be before she’d gotten sick. Despite not being as tired as she normally was, Cerulean was about to go to bed earlier than most people—she was a morning person, after all.
Right as she was about to go to her bedroom, there was a knock at the door. Her heart skipped a beat. Very few people knew where she lived, and those that did were now missing. So this only left…
The deer girl grabbed her staff and rushed to the door, opening it mere seconds after the first knock. On the other end there was nothing but the chilly wind of early autumn. Then, she heard a familiar voice from below her:
“Want food.”
She looked down, and there was Gubby, who had been missing ever since she killed the demolitionist. Even though she should’ve been relieved, her fight or flight instinct instead triggered. It hadn’t been Gubby who had knocked—rather, it had been a human. A horrifying feeling crept up her chest—it was the same one she’d felt the night before the brawl; a dreadful premonition. She spun her staff at lightning speeds to cast her aura-revealing spell she would use while on duty, and sure enough, the silhouette of somebody running away appeared from behind the trees. She thought it was some kind of cryptid at first—but then, she noticed the wings protruding from its back.
What!? But he was supposed to be dead!
Oh no, that person was not about to get away!
With a couple more swings of her staff, Cerulean cast Weed Ensnarement on it. It wasn’t as effective from afar as it was from up close, but it still did the trick, and thorny vines started growing around the stranger’s foot, which nearly made them trip. They couldn’t run anymore.
The guardian grabbed Gubby and quickly caught up with them, getting a better look. She could tell from a glance that it wasn’t him, as most of their blinding white skin wasn’t hidden. Their face still couldn’t be seen besides their glowing pink eye, as all of the light emanating from them obscured their features. The only piece of clothing they wore was a blue shawl covering up their torso—but it wasn’t any less bright than their skin. Just looking at them felt like staring at the sun.
“Identify yourself, and I’ll let you go,” Cerulean commanded as the thorny vines were beginning to creep up the person’s leg, hugging it narrowly. Normally that spell wasn’t too painful, but they seemed to be struggling frantically, letting out small groans.
“My name is Illumina...” they uttered in their hushed voice, gritting their teeth. They were trying their best to appear calm—and surprisingly, it was working. “This rabbit led me here, and I wanted to give it back to you.”
“Oh? And you couldn’t even stick around to say hi?” she asked.
In the meantime, she swiftly spun her staff in a circle to make the vines wrap around Illumina’s leg tighter. She’d been showing a lot more cruelty recently—both to cryptids, and now to this unfortunate person. It was a way to take out all of her pent-up frustration. Besides, she was already a killer—she was just like him. She had no reason to try being a good person anymore.
“Look... I don’t have the time for this...” Illumina hissed, struggling to form coherent words. Ever since they’d undergone that transformation, they had been a lot more sensitive to pain. Earlier, they’d slightly cut their finger on one of their swords, and it was enough to leave them in tears. They were using every ounce of willpower it had to resist the urge of unleashing a Mass Infection right in her face. “Let me go. The only person you’re endangering is yourself.”
Cerulean thought about it for a moment. This person seemed very suspicious, but their back-handed threat most likely wasn’t just a bluff. She wouldn’t be able to press them more for answers without getting hurt.
“Well, I guess you aren’t wrong,” the guardian shrugged.
Then, she cast the Weed Ensnarement spell in reverse in order to undo its effect and make the thorns disappear. The being of light sighed in relief.
“You’re not a bad person, Cerulean—quite the contrary,” they remarked. This seemed quite sudden. “I’m going to make sure justice is served for you.”
“Hold on. How do you know my name? Also... What?”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, but I do. Also, there are many things you don’t know about Dusekkar, but they do.”
It was as if she’d flipped a switch in their head as soon as she stopped hurting them. They had been wanting to run away—but now, they were weirdly talkative. It unnerved her. Just how much did they know?
“Huh? You know Dusekkar?” the deer girl asked.
“I know them better than anyone. They abused their power as an admin to terminate me without the others’ knowledge and keep me exiled in the Banlands for a year. They ruined my life, much like how the person they admire ruined yours all that time ago. Don’t get caught up on sentimentality—all admins really are the same.”
“...you’re lying.”
She would not be surprised at all if an admin did what Illumina claimed—however, she got a bad feeling from them. Alarm bells went off in her head as they spoke. Her intuition never failed her, and she was certain they were trying to manipulate her in some way—but she wasn’t sure for what reason.
“You wish I was lying, Cerulean. Dusekkar really is no different from all the other admins; the only reason they treated you with care was because they wanted to get on your good side and get a free shelter out of you. You’ve been alone all your life, you’ve always needed somebody to look up to—and they took advantage of that, lying in your face in the process. How does that make you feel?”
Annoyed, Cerulean slammed her cane-like staff to the ground, its wooden bottom tip producing a resounding noise.
“Stop talking and get out of my face. I can see behind your little plot, and I know you’re trying to make me do something for you. Well, you’re out of luck. I want to be alone.”
“I know how hard it must be to—”
“What part of ‘get out of my face’ do you not understand? Or do you want to get your ass kicked?”
Illumina grumbled in frustration. If only they weren’t so sensitive to pain now, they would have no problem fighting her into obedience. Unlike with Dusekkar, they weren’t too aware of all the spells Cerulean favoured—but she was a lot less powerful than them, so they didn’t doubt that they could defeat her easily. However, they were scared of the pain more than anything. They knew she would try her best to make this as painful as possible.
The light creature gave her a piercing glare, their pink Unstable Eye shining right into her retinas and blinding her.
“You’re useless.”
Then, they ran off. Cerulean made no effort to catch up to them.
Tucked under her shoulder, Gubby finally started shuffling around.
“Very hungry. Want food.”
Oh well.
* * *
It was at the break of dawn. The sky was lit a light orange by the newly risen sun. Cerulean had hardly slept a blink—she was too overcome with anxiety to get a good rest. Ever since she’d killed him, she’d stopped having nightmares, which allowed her to get much better sleep—but this night, it felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest at any moment. Whenever she would doze off, a jolt would reverberate throughout her body, making her shoot up awake. Seldom had she felt so on edge before.
She didn’t know just what the source of all her stress was. Maybe it was that encounter from the evening, or maybe all of her pent-up feelings were beginning to escape. Normally she had a knack for pinpointing her exact feelings, but here she was lost. Thoroughly lost.
After hours of rolling around in bed, the sun was already out. She gave up trying rest and headed to the kitchen to make herself breakfast—it wasn’t going to be the first time she had been on duty without any sleep.
Right at that moment, there was a knock on the door. It wasn’t as loud and forceful as earlier—instead, it was weak and apprehensive, almost as if the person on the other end was praying not to be heard.
Cerulean was too tired to even try to guess who it was. She grabbed her twisted staff and opened the door without hesitation.
As soon as she saw who it was, her barely open eyes shot wide in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
It was him.
He was still alive.
The demolitionist’s robes looked a lot scruffier than before, with rips and tears all over them. He was embracing himself with his ruffled back wings in order to protect himself from… something. From everything. His entire body was trembling ever so slightly, and he was facing the floor to avoid looking at the guardian.
Millions of thoughts were racing through Cerulean’s head all at once.
He was still alive.
Horrible urges were tugging at her mind, begging her to act on them. She knew so many nasty spells—it was the perfect time to cast them on him. He didn’t seem in a state to fight back, so this was the perfect opportunity. She was going to make him pay. Pay for everything he had done to her. Losing her family was not even going to equate to all of the torture she was going to put him through.
Her arm holding the staff was shaking violently. She was trying her hardest not to cast one of those spells she had been practising all this time.
But… Amidst all of this ire and malice brewing inside of her just by looking at him, she felt a sense of relief.
He was still alive.
Cerulean had read the entirety of the notebook the demolitionist had dropped. She’d inadvertently learned so much about him, how he expressed himself, his talents, and also just how much weight had been put on him.
She got a clear picture of what living in his shoes was like. As much as she despised him, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. He resonated with her. She, too, had been an underdog all her life, trying to bite the bullet through all of it. At the end of the day, the only reason she hated him so much was because of a very costly mistake. He’d never meant to do that, and he was already suffering enough, deservedly so. Maybe the two of them were more alike than she had assumed.
...
It was disgusting.
Disgusting how she was finding herself sympathising with a fucking murderer. Three lives lost, for what?
There was only one place for those people, and that place was hell.
He deserved all of the suffering he had already been experiencing, and she was about to make his old life seem like bliss in comparison. She could cause weeds to grow from under his fingernails, or summon parasites in his brain, or use a spell to trigger every single pain receptor in his body at once, or cause him to hallucinate a never-ending nightmare much like all the nightmares he had caused her. The possibilities really were endless.
So what was she waiting for? Why was she standing still like a statue? Stop staring at him. Just do it.
Kill him.
Kill him.
KILL HIM.
KILL HIM.
KILL HIM.
KILL HIM NOW.
“Taph. You can come in.”
...
...
...
...
Taph cautiously stepped inside the home, still shielding himself with his sullied white wings. Seeing this living room once again caused a wave of anxiety to pass through him. He still vaguely remembered that fight.
Just looking at her terrified him.
“Feel free to sit down. I’m going to make tea.”
He was puzzled. The deer girl seemed so mild. So unassuming. So... calm. She was nothing like the wrathful beast he had encountered. He sat at the edge of the sofa, body still trembling. He could still hardly process what had just happened to him.
Hell. Right as he thought things were going well, everything had crumbled like a house of cards.
“Wait, I almost forgot. I have something to return to you.”
She promptly entered and exited a neighbouring room, having fetched some kind of book. The stickers on the cover could not be mistaken—this was his. So that’s where it had been! He and the pumpkin had spent so much time looking for it.
The forest guardian sat down on the sofa, on the opposite side of him. Taph snatched the notebook as soon as she handed it to him, hugging it tightly to his chest. He reacted the exact same as the previous time he’d reunited with him—but now, he was even more emotional. For, it was one of his only memories of...
He opened it to the bookmarked page, where the last words he’d written to Dusekkar were inscribed.
*
I don’t know how to express how happy I am that you’re here.
Life is very difficult without you. I can’t keep going like this.
Please never leave again. I just want to stay by your side.
*
...
He pulled out a pen and turned over to the next page, where he jotted simply:
Thank you for this.
Before the mage thought of how to respond, he turned the notebook back to himself and continued writing. It was taking him a very long time, but she waited. As soon as he was done, he showed it back to her.
Tears started forming in her eyes.
*
I’m sorry for everything.
There’s nothing I can do to make up for all the ways I have hurt you.
I’ve never forgiven myself for killing your family and I never will. I beat you with such cruelty the other night because I was angry and confused. It was selfish of me and I’m sorry for that too.
Thank you for all the kindness you’re showing me despite this. It means very much to me.
*
Cerulean scooted closer to him and hugged him. Normally she would avoid physical affection like the plague, but this time she really did need it.
“I’m not sure if I can forgive you...” she muttered amidst her sniffles, “But I’ll try my best. I apologise too.”
Taph was so surprised by her reaction that he couldn’t even move. However, the fuzzy touch of her natural clothes felt comforting. He instinctively embraced her in return. His wings brushed up against her bear fur cloak.
Before long, Cerulean let go of him and proceeded to look away. Those nagging thoughts were screaming at her again, but she managed to push them aside. Those were not how she actually felt.
She wanted to forgive him. Taph’s apology gave so much more closure than “killing” him did. He was not a bad person; this was simply a freak accident. If there was anyone to blame, it was the admins, not him.
The admins...
Dusekkar.
She needed to apologise to Dusekkar.
“Do you know where Dusekkar is?” she asked. “I need to talk to him.”
Taph stared at her for a couple of seconds, then back at the notebook, completely lost on how to respond.
Then, reality hit him like a truck.
...
He fainted.
Notes:
They finally made up! Isn't that so wholesome? ♪(´▽｀)
mweheheheheheh
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Chapter 18
Notes:
This was easily the hardest chapter to write so far. Spoiler alert, it's an actual bombshell. Next chapter is probably going to be even more of a bombshell, but we'll get there.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For once, life had felt better.
The Fire and the Dark,
The two of them were finally together.
All day, every day, with nothing in their way.
Those moments shrouded in faint clouds kept floating in the Fire’s mind about.
Three days of bliss, playing on loop like a disc.
It had always been doomed, yes—but those few days had been the best.
As much as everything was hurting, hope amidst the memories had been burning.
At first, everything had seemed hopeless. Uprooted from their home, the Fire had no place to bless, and the Dark’s involvement with the Crystal made a whole another mess.
The Fire was devastated—they had lost their life’s bloom;
The Dark was content—he’d had nothing left to lose.
The Fire was afraid—the Crystal threatened impending doom;
The Dark was content—he knew of no such danger, since to warn him they refused.
The blinding flame of enlightenment was present in only the Fire, whereas the Dark remained blissfully unaware. It was exactly his innocence that helped the Fire bear, and thus their worries were left threadbare.
For it was not the future that mattered, but the moments. It was a time of spotless beauty—no place to dwell on bad omens.
??.........? ? ??? ?? ??.... ?? ???? ......? ??
The Fire and the Dark together spent the days, wandering throughout the forest hunting for game. The occasional cryptid appeared, but it posed no match to the Fire’s power sheer. A couple of swings of their staff almighty were ample to prevent a fate unsightly. The number of spells they knew was beyond comprehension, and their sheer speed and precision was not to mention.
Regardless of how unstoppable they were, they knew they were under a curse. Nothing could put them at risk—and yet something told them they were going under an obelisk.
The hunt was stressful; the hunt was full of grit—but that didn’t stop the Dark from enjoying every little bit. After all, his only wish had come true—a wish that had been long overdue. The Fire was finally here to light his way, casting some colour in his life of grey. He wanted nothing more and nothing less—all he needed was their soft caress.
??...m...ki...???C...?......?u???he...?...?
They spent the nights in the abandoned hut, from predators keeping themselves shut. It was far from luxurious—in fact, their conditions were nothing but penurious. However, it was not outside comfort that they strived—only in each other’s proximity did they thrive. Huddled under the Dark’s wings, nothing could put the Fire in any danger. He had no face, no voice, couldn’t express a thing—but his presence was more tranquil than any stranger’s. Despite the Dark being forced to stay invisible to the masses, the Fire illuminated a beauty in him that was no longer kept behind glasses.
Back at the HQ, in the very beginning, the Dark was nothing more than an acquaintance. He would listen to all their words brimming, doing his best to show understanding and patience. Whoever got close to the Fire would get burnt and walk away—but unlike them, the Dark was always there to stay. They found they could tell him anything going through their mind, and he would listen. Was it because nobody else had been so kind, or did he see something in the flame glisten?
Gradually, the two of them started finding solace in each other. A warmth had been brewing in the Fire’s heart, one enough to tip it over. They felt a certain way about the Dark, but under no circumstance could they say. After all, everybody would be withdrawn: a worldly paragon hallowed, in love a pawn working in the shadows. And so, they waited as the months turned into years—but their conscience could never be appeased. As much as being together was a treat, outside work they could never meet. Only an hour each day, only during the Dark’s lunch break—but no matter what, that time never felt fake.
...u......kin? A... ...... ...ake?
Then, due to the course of thousands of mistakes, the Fire lost all of their stakes. They were forced to leave the Dark behind; now they had to glow on their own, left blind. The Sapling took them in—but instead of helping her grow, they burnt her branches, and she had to leave them alone.
The Fire thought they would never see the Dark again—but when they least expected, he appeared, and his beauty hadn’t waned. He had been left a fledgling and came out a swan; at last came his freedom’s dawn. Unlike them, the Dark had lost no value—he had only regained the one who kept his happiness maintained.
Pum......in! ......ase!
Even now, enveloped by the Dark’s embrace, the Fire was scared. For years, it had left those words unsaid. As the Dark was dozing off as he held them in his arms, the Fire’s fear was beginning to swarm. But in the end, they knew there was no point in not being obtuse.
“Taph, I love you.”
Soon, however...
HzzzzzZZZT
"But we return to a place, the place that will restore you to a former glory."
"And what occurred hit us steadfast."
"Afterwards, I was doomed, fated to meet the end of my story."
...
Dusekkar! Wake up! Please...
...
Huh?
Ceru? Is that you?
* * *
Ceru? Is that you?
As soon as Cerulean heard her own name once again, she let out a long sigh of relief.
She had been trying to get ahold of him for so long, and after hours he finally responded. She had lost count of how many times she had cast the Mind Link spell due to it timing out. Mind Link let you communicate with somebody from far away telepathically, choosing which thoughts to send to them, and vice versa. More importantly, it was a black magic spell—but she completely disregarded that fact. She just wanted to know that he was okay, and she would go through any lengths.
Pumpkin, you’re alive! What happened to you? Taph isn’t telling me anything.
Taph? So he’s with you... Is he okay?
She looked back at Taph. He was conscious, but no matter how much she begged for an explanation from him, he refused to write anything more in the notebook. It was obvious he had been traumatised, and she knew something terrible had happened.
He’s really shaken up, but otherwise he barely has any injuries. I tried my best to heal him—the ones I gave him during the fight too.
So you made up? That’s a relief. I was worried you were never going to forgive me or him.
I’ll admit, I was being unfair to you... Look, we’re going to talk about this when we meet. This spell has a limited duration and we should only discuss the most important things. Part of me still hates Taph’s guts but we need to find you. Can you tell me where you are?
I don’t know. It looks like... my old home. My personal library. Wait... I can’t move. They tied me up. Great.
What!? Who did?
The forest guardian felt like she was about to faint. The pumpkin was still in danger. Grave danger. She just knew it.
1x1x1x1. Actually they said their name is Illumina now.
Illumina. It all suddenly clicked in Cerulean’s head.
Illumina! They came to me last night. I didn’t trust them at all. They started trying to turn me against you, but it was obvious manipulation. Just how did you end up here?
My memory is blurry. Taph and I were taking shelter in an abandoned cabin. At one point, Illumina sent a shockwave at us out of nowhere, and then they started attacking me. They didn’t give me any time to cast my spells. Taph tried his hardest to protect me. Illumina had so many opportunities to kill him, but they simply shoved him out of the way. Taph was furious. I think he was crying. I had never seen him so upset before. The two of them were talking to each other at one point, but I can’t recall what. I think I was knocked out afterwards. Hold on, Illumina is talking to me...
...
I’m scared.
Don’t worry, pumpkin. We’re coming. I’ll be here as soon as I can. Please, hold on.
Cerulean, please don’t. You have no idea how powerful Illumina really is. I had underestimated them. I am already accustomed to the fact that my situation is hopeless. Please, all I want is for you and Taph to stay safe.
Stop talking like this! Your life matters more than mine. I was the reason this happened to you—I need to make up for it.
It was never your fault, Ceru. I was the one who deceived you for so long. I had already decided my own fate all those years ago with my horrible mistake; there’s nothing you can do to change it.
There is! There’s always a way! Please...
Destiny’s powerful hand has made the bed of my future, and it’s up to me to lie in it.
You’re wrong... I’m going to save you... I won’t lose you like I lost my family. I’m never going to lose anyone ever again.
...
Oh my days.
What are they doing?
Pumpkin? What’s wrong? Please tell me!
What the hell? No, this can’t be happening!
...
It hurts.
Dusekkar, answer me! Please tell me you’re fine!
...Cerulean, I love you like my own. Don’t forget to be responsible. And don’t try to follow me.
Dusekkar! I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to you! Please, come back... Please...
...
...
...
It was gone.
The Mind Link had timed out.
The deer girl didn’t bother casting it again. She already knew what had to be done.
“Taph, get up,” she commanded, shaking him by the shoulders. “We’re going to save Dusekkar.”
He sat up and looked at her puzzled. His mind had been completely empty.
“I finally managed to reach him. He’s at his old home. Illumina has abducted him and they’re keeping him there. We need to get to him as soon as possible. I’m going to create a portal to his location.”
The demolitionist tried to sign something but soon realised she couldn’t understand any of it. He simply nodded, but with noticeable apprehension. Of course he wanted to save him, but he was scared. He thought he could trust Illumina—but in the end, they had betrayed him in the worst way. They tried to apologise to him and turn him against Dusekkar—but he wouldn’t listen to any of it.
He felt nothing but ire for Illumina—but he also knew he was powerless against them. When he fought them, he noticed they were trying their best to hold back, knowing they could kill him in two hits. They didn’t want to hurt Taph—they only wanted to inflict pain on Dusekkar. However, to Taph, the pumpkin’s suffering was worse than anything he could experience. He had just as much conviction as the forest guardian: he needed to save him.
He prepared himself, making sure all of his traps and weapons were with him. Meanwhile, Cerulean was trying to cast some spells unsuccessfully while scouring through all kinds of old, somewhat damaged magic tomes. Her attempts weren’t very fruitful, which seemed to visibly frustrate her. The entire time, she seemed to be sick, coughing periodically and massaging her temples as if to alleviate a headache.
Suddenly, she turned to Taph to speak to him, as if she remembered something on the spot. She tried her best to keep her voice calm—but her nervousness was obvious.
“By the way, Taph, there are some illegal gears in Dusekkar’s room over there. Some of them are extremely powerful, so make sure you get at least a couple that you’re comfortable using.”
He nodded and made his way there to look. Meanwhile, Cerulean continued torturing herself with remembering how to cast one specific spell. It was the Create Shortcut to Chosen Magic User spell—or in English, a portal that led to the general location of another mage. There were plenty of variations of the Create Shortcut spell, but this was the only one that allowed you to reliably go somewhere you’ve never been before. Just like all other spells of this kind, it was difficult to pull off—you have to correctly pull off 33 consecutive strokes, on top of the target’s personal signature, which was 7 strokes on top of that.
Cerulean tried and failed and tried and failed, and she didn’t even know where she went wrong. She tried to locate its steps laid out in her tomes—but she could hardly find such an obscure spell—she only had her memory to rely on, from back when this one had been a mandatory part of her school curriculum.
With every failed attempt, her hope was beginning to wane. Her shoulders were hurting from moving her heavy staff around so much. Panic was setting in as she realised she was completely powerless. Her breathing became quicker and quicker as the world around her started to move slowly. She felt a lump in her throat, one that kept growing every time she whiffed the spell.
At one point, she started choking uncontrollably, which made her fall to her knees. It was so bad that she was gasping for air; she could barely breathe. The lump in her throat wasn’t imaginary—it really was there, blocking her lungs.
As soon as Taph heard her, he rushed back to the living room and tried to perform first aid on her. H
He put his fists on her abdomen and pressed. He performed this manoeuvre with such swiftness and precision—it was obvious he had done it dozens of times.
Soon enough, Cerulean coughed something up into her palm. It was a completely black sludge, one unlike anything she had seen before.
This was a product of her own failures.
Taph wiped off the slimy substance off with a tissue, not even bothering to ask her what it could possibly be. Even though she could finally breathe again, her anxiety had completely taken over her.
She was unable to hold them in any longer, and her tears started flowing.
“It’s impossible... Why can’t I do anything without him?”
She hadn’t realised just how important Dusekkar was in her life. Whenever she would forget how to cast a spell, he would walk her through all the steps and show her which strokes were the trickiest. Cerulean thought there was little point in this, and that she could simply learn how to do it by herself—but now that he was gone, it was clear that she couldn’t. She would always accept his help with hesitance, thinking she would always be able to manage on her own—but what she hadn’t realised was that he’d made her life so much easier than it’d normally been. It’s true that she could fend for herself, but Cerulean felt so much safer when the pumpkin was around. She felt like making mistakes or not knowing something wasn’t the end of the world, as he was always there to correct them.
Why? Why had she kicked him out!? So what if he was an admin—he had shown her more care and respect than anyone in her life else ever had since the death of her family.
“This was all my fault! If I hadn’t kicked him out, none of this would’ve happened.”
She loudly stomped on the floor in pure anger. All of that anger was directed at herself. She had to prove herself as a worthy disciple and use the skills Dusekkar had taught her to save him—but she couldn’t even do that. He had put his trust in a lost cause, in someone who would end up trying to kill both him and the one he loved, all because she couldn’t let go of emotions in the past.
Cerulean was on her knees again, weeping unconsolably, covering her face with both of her hands. Old, forgotten feelings of grief and guilt were rushing back to her, which made her feel like she was dying. No, she should have died, long ago...
She felt a soft nudge at her shoulder from behind. It was Taph. He was holding the open notebook in his other hand. The lost girl really didn’t feel like dealing with him right now. She grabbed his hand and forcefully yanked him away, causing him to almost lose balance.
“Get away from me!” she growled. The demolitionist unconsciously rolled his hands into fists. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You shouldn’t have saved me. All I’ve ever done to you is hurt you. I even wanted to hurt you so bad when I opened the door to you when you came, but I couldn’t bring myself. I’m too scared to do anything. Just leave me alone!”
Cerulean was drowning in her own words. All of those self-loathing thoughts she had been trying to hold off were now swarming her to no end. After failing that one single spell for so many times, her hope was utterly crushed. Now, Dusekkar was going to...
...
Slap!
It was all interrupted. A sharp pain hit her left cheek, which nearly sent her to the floor.
Taph. He had just slapped her with full force. Cerulean glared at him in bewilderment. She was scared. She was sure he was about to give her the beating she deserved. But no.
He knelt down in front of her and showed her something he had jotted down in his notebook. She had a hard time reading from all the tears in her eyes, but she made an effort.
*
Stop putting all the blame on yourself. You’re better than this. I know you are.
You saved Dusekkar’s life back when you first met him. You’re going to be able to do it again.
I know nothing about magic, but I’m sure you’ll be able to pull off the spell you’re looking for.
I believe in you.
*
“Why... Why do you believe in me?” she asked, still crying. Her sobs were now less frequent than before. “I’ve only ever been horrible to you.”
You’re a good person by heart. I’ve done even worse things to you, and yet you still feel empathy towards me. I can tell you’re not like anyone else I’ve met. As long as you don’t give up, we’ll be able to save him.
Taph embraced her with his back wings. This time, she didn’t try to push him away. Despite them being dirty and messy, she felt comforted surrounded by their touch of silk.
He was making her feel the exact warmth that he had taken away from her all that time ago.
The demolitionist couldn’t bring himself to hate her. She reminded him of himself from two months ago, when he had also lost everything. He was harsher on himself than Doombringer and Shedletsky had ever been. He couldn’t forgive himself if he was even a little behind schedule because there had been nobody there to reassure him. He kept blaming himself for Dusekkar’s disappearance, fearing that he might’ve wanted to run away and forget about him, or that he didn’t matter to him enough to ever give him a proper goodbye.
His words were directed at Cerulean just as much as they were directed at that past version of himself. The only way he could somewhat repent for his mistakes was by showing her the same love and respect that he had learned to show himself.
Cerulean’s tears gradually stopped. Her breathing became slower and steadier. She turned from an emotional wreck back to her apathetic, inoffensive-looking self. After taking her time huddled in the demolitionist’s wings, she stood up.
“I’m sorry for making you do this,” she muttered, looking down at her feet. “I didn’t mean for you see me like this.”
Taph shook his head and hugged her again, this time with his arms. There was a very limited number of ideashe could convey since she didn’t understand his sign language—but with this, he tried to tell her that he didn’t have a problem with this. Really, he still felt like he owed her.
He owed her his life.
Soon enough, the forest guardian started trying to summon that portal again. It took dozens of failed attempts once, with every new one being its own shot in the dark—but she wasn’t going to give up so easily.
In the end, she did manage to successfully open that portal.
However, she would end up regretting that decision dearly.
...
"I will give my life for yours, all for you to come back."
Notes:
It's precisely 4:14 in the morning as I'm publishing this. I just finished editing. I think I should probably sleep.
Chapter Text
Pumpkin, you’re alive!
Dusekkar was woken up by Cerulean’s voice—but when he looked around, he couldn’t see her anywhere near. Towering bookshelves stood around him, stacked with colourful leather-bound tomes. The room smelled of old-growth oak, combined with the heaps of dust stuck on the furniture and the book covers. The only light source was the lantern chandelier hanging from the ceiling—it was a surprise that it still worked.
The mage had found himself in his old home from when he was an admin—more specifically, in its underground library where all of his salvaged books were kept. Even before he resigned, rarely did he have the time to go down here. Every single spell explained in these thousands of books, he knew. Tens of thousands of different stroke orders, leading to vastly different effects, all contained in that pumpkin of his. His status as a living encyclopaedia made him immensely powerful.
And yet right now he could cast precisely none of them.
He was tied with ropes to his ornate wooden chair, the same one he would sit on whenever he read here. They were so tight that they pressed into his skin like blades. The one who did this really wanted to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.
It was supposed to be Dusekkar’s own home—and yet, he felt like he were somewhere completely unknown. He was used to being alone—but now, he knew he wasn’t. He felt a horrifying presence in the room.
Cerulean’s voice continued resounding in his head. It was no hallucination—he knew she was using a spell such as Mind Link to contact him. Another black magic spell...
What happened to you? Taph isn’t telling me anything.
As soon as Taph was mentioned, Dusekkar’s head perked up. His racing thoughts moved on from his own circumstances and immediately moved to the demolitionist. He only wanted him to be alive and well. After Illumina had knocked him unconscious, he had no way to know his condition.
Taph? So he’s with you... Is he okay?
He’s really shaken up, but otherwise he barely has any injuries. I tried my best to heal him—the ones I gave him during the fight too.
She... healed him? But why?
So you made up? That’s a relief. I was worried you were never going to forgive me or him.
I’ll admit, I was being unfair to you... Look, we’re going to talk about this when we meet. [...] Can you tell me where you are?
Dusekkar proceeded to describe where he was and what had happened before he ended up here. He felt a certain sadness as he recounted everything. It was so cruel—it all happened mere minutes after he’d told Taph how he truly felt about him. He had been snatched away from his angelic grace right when he was finally able to savour the full extent of it.
Most likely, Illumina knew. They timed it perfectly, in order to snatch this moment he’d spent years awaiting away from him. They wanted to suck every last drop of happiness out of him.
Right then and there, they showed themself. They appeared from behind one of the bookshelves; the first thing Dusekkar could see of them was their blinding pink eye. Despite their heavenly appearance, they were even more intimidating than before—it was likely due to their newfound confidence.
“It seems you’ve had your rest, Dusekkar,” Illumina remarked as they trudged closer to him. “I’m glad you get to see me when I’m at my... best.”
The pumpkin winced in frustration. They were clearly trying to taunt him by rhyming, and it worked perfectly. Now, he forced himself to rhyme as well—it was his way to show that he hadn’t lost himself.
“Cut to the chase, will you? I can’t bear to look at your face.”
He knew he was going to die in this room. He just wanted to get it over with—but he was sure Illumina wasn’t going to let him go that easily. They were going to inflict on him the same pain they inflicted when they rules his nightmares—only this time, he was going to feel the full extent of it.
“Don’t be so rash, now,” Illumina shrugged. “All I’m doing is bringing some justice about: the justice to which my creator ought to have made you head, but he rewarded you with glory instead.”
“Justice? About justice you know nothing. You are but an empty vessel with only hatred gushing. I know not of my mistakes, and that’s because they don’t matter in this world at its wake.”
“You underestimate me, Dusekkar. I told Taph, but I don’t think I told you yet: I can feel empathy, to a frightening extent. You need to know why I look like this, alright. It’s because I slayed my creator and took over his viscera. With it, I turned to a moralist from a ghoul. Now I can bask in all of the fear that exudes from your pathetic soul. And more importantly, now I know exactly how they felt—
the people you murdered.”
Dusekkar gulped. The horror he felt led him unable to speak.. He felt like he was going to get a heart attack before Illumina could do anything to him. In fact, this is the fate he strived for. Unintentionally, he transmitted exactly how he was feeling to Cerulean.
I’m scared.
Don’t worry, pumpkin. We’re coming. I’ll be here as soon as I can. Please, hold on.
No. No, she was not about to do that. She wasn’t going to rescue him. This was exactly what Illumina wanted.
Cerulean, do not. You have no idea how powerful Illumina really is. [...] Please, all I want is for you and Taph to stay safe.
Illumina drew their titular blade.
Stop talking like this! Your life matters more than mine. I was the reason this happened to you—I need to make up for it.
They lifted his head, pointed it at where his neck was supposed to be, and poked.
It was never your fault, Ceru. I was the one who deceived you for so long.
The tip was as sharp as a needle. It hurt from its mere touch. Dusekkar knew exactly what they were going to do and desperately wished for it not to happen.
...
I had already decided my own fate all those years ago with my horrible mistake; there’s nothing you can do to make a change.
It was the end.
There is! There’s always a way! Please—
Her thoughts cut off—the spell was about to run out. Any future messages Dusekkar gave her would come from his sub-conscious.
“You said you didn’t know of your mistakes, didn’t you?” Illumina pressed the sword deeper to where his head connected to his shoulders. He shuddered in pain. “Well then, let me teach you. Let me showcase to you what you’ve done to yourself.”
The creation drew the sword back and swung at the bottom of his blue pumpkin. Despite the toughness of his shell, the titular blade was so powerful that it carved a hole into him.
“What do you think you’re doing!? Stop this! Please!”
Illumina had no intention of stopping. They kept digging the blade deeper and deeper into his pumpkin with each passing swing. Small chunks of his head were flying off while he was being decapitated. Dusekkar could feel the Illumina inside of him as it crossed paths with the fire hiding behind his shell. That fire was so delicate, not supposed to be touched by anyone. It was his brain, his soul, his being—and now it was being mercilessly intruded by this unbreakable blade, which made him get a horrible headache as his own thoughts were being mangled. He shared the same neural network as a human’s, so on top of this he was experiencing the pain of having his neck cut off and his spinal cord severed.
Except, he wasn’t dying. After all, his head was just a piece of armour integrated into his body. And now that it was being removed, a whole new pain was waiting for him.
When Dusekkar’s pumpkin was almost loose, Illumina forcefully grabbed it with their hands and ripped it off, making him groan in pain. Even though it was completely detached, its mouth and eyes were still moving.
The creature took a step back to show off the newly harvested head, holding it by the antlers.
“Such a pretty face. Don’t you like yourself?”
This was... him.
This was really him?
It felt horrifying seeing his own face, but without any fire behind it. This was not like looking in the mirror—it felt more like staring at his own corpse. Dusekkar screamed in terror, the mouth of his pumpkin moving despite not being attached to him anymore. The sound was still coming to the now exposed flame that was the real Dusekkar.
He felt a burning pain from every single spec of his fire. He could feel as floating particles of touch were evaporated by him; he could feel as his fire subtly intensified and waned; he could feel even the tiniest graze of the air. Not only was it overstimulating, but it was also agonising. All of those once hidden nerves were now exposed, which made him feel like he had just been skinned alive. In fact, he really had been.
“Don’t be so shy now! You look better when you smile.”
Illumina put the former admin’s head back on his shoulders, holding it down with one of his hands, before carving something into it with their sword. He couldn’t feel any pain from this now that he was no longer his—but his flame touching the blade was enough to make him struggle in his chair from the pain. It felt just like a migraine.
When the being of light was done, they took it off to show it to him once again, much in the same way. The Dusekkar still looked horrified, but now there were cuts extending the edges of his mouth-hole, turning his shock into an unnerving smile.
“Stop this cooing. You’re not being amusing.”
Dusekkar tried to glare at Illumina... but he couldn’t. He could now see in 360 degrees since his shell was no longer blocking his vision—but it was harder to focus on things.
It aggravated him how they defaced the thing that made him so special—that off-putting yet charming squash that had turned into his signature—and they knew that perfectly well. They knew every little thing that set Dusekkar off, and they were planning to make him go through every single one of them.
“If you want me to be serious, then be it,” Illumina hissed. They took a step to the headless mage and put a hand on his shoulder. His fire was blazing hot, and it quickly started burning their skin, so they jumped away in pain. This little burn was nothing compared to what Dusekkar must be experiencing.
They were about to subject him to mere words—but they hurt more than everything Illumina had inflicted on him thus far.
“You know, there was a time when your head was a human’s. There was a time when you were a normal person, just like everybody else. In fact, you weren’t simply normal—you were the best. You showed incredible talent in magic ever since you set foot in your sorcery academy. You could learn infamously complicated spells with ease that elders would take years to cast successfully. You were your family’s pride and joy, you were what everybody strived to be.
But clearly, this glory wasn’t enough for you.
Wanting to be proficient in absolutely everything, you started researching black magic in secret. Many inexperienced mages fall down this trap, completely unaware of its side effects. You got your hands on those tomes by scouring deep into libraries, pocketing them for yourself because at that time nobody wanted them.
Inevitably, the side effects of black magic hit. You contracted an illness you could never recover from, and your blood began to transform into black sludge. There was nothing that could save you from this curse; you had learned about the consequences all too late.
It seemed hopeless—but scouring for solutions for your lethal predicament, you stumbled upon a certain spell from a particularly old tome. It was the Eternal Flame spell. Out of the couple hundred spells you knew by heart, this one was easily the most powerful one—not only could it cleanse your body of all impurities, but it could also allow it to never age again, alongside permanent boosts to your cognitive capabilities. All of these things would be the result of a spell condensing your brain into a single self-fuelled flame that made your body run not on blood, but on magic.
You were fully aware of the Eternal Flame’s side effects. This spell would last an eternity, which would require a ludicrous amount of energy—and it needed somewhere to draw that energy from. For that reason, the Eternal Flame spell came with a side effect: it would cause a cataclysm until at least 100 people were killed. You knew you were going to lose your family and everybody else you’d been close to, but you didn’t care. You thought you were doing it for the greater good.
In the end, after weeks of non-stop attempts, you were finally able to cast Eternal Flame on yourself successfully. Colossal floods swept your village, taking down everything in their path. Your home was destroyed, as well as all other homes in the vicinity. You drowned a community, being the only one to come out alive.
You woke up in safety, with this very shell on your head, along with those proud antlers. You had no past recollection of your life before you cast the Eternal Flame—for all you care, this is when you popped into existence. From then on, your knowledge in magic only grew and it never stopped growing. You kept yourself under the radar—but little did your acquaintances know they were associated with the greatest mage roaming this planet—as well as a murderer of hundreds.
There aren’t many magic users left on this planet, and they keep dying out. Want to know why? It’s because you wiped out most of them by casting the Eternal Flame. And you haven’t been able to feel even an ounce of guilt for this.
You remind me of my creator, and it utterly disgusts me. But at least my creator realised he was hurting people, and he tried to fight me in order to make things right. You’re different, however. You would do anything just to stay oblivious. You’re exactly what’s wrong with humanity.
Except—you are less than a human. Your heart isn’t even beating. You feel the sensation of it in your chest—but in reality, it’s simply the magic that’s enslaved you, manipulating you into thinking you’re human like the others.
No, you’re no longer a human. You ended your own life the moment you cast that spell.
Now you’re a monster; a monster just like me. A monster of your own making.
You deserve every single thing I’m doing to you.”
In this situation, it would be so easy to brush Illumina off as lying through their teeth.
However, Dusekkar knew they were telling the truth.
He remembered everything. Those were the exact same memories that had been buried in his mind, and Illumina knew all of them perfectlu. They had already read the entirety of his mind; creating backdoors from his magic barrier in the Banlands to his brain had been a surprisingly easy task. And now, Illumina knew him even better than he knew himself; better than they knew themself, even.
The physical agony Dusekkar was experiencing was beyond comprehension—but somehow, the mental anguish was even worse. He had just reminded of his biggest mistake, something more despicable than all of the atrocities Illumina had committed.
He knew he was better than this—and yet, he could do nothing to change his past and how he deprived the world of so many potential talents. If it hadn’t been for him, magic would be more widely used today and the general public would know the sheer beauty and power of it.
And yet, he would rather save himself.
The more Dusekkar thought about it, the more the reality was setting in: he really did only care about himself. He accepted Telamon’s offer to become an admin because he wanted power. He was the one who banned 1x1x1x1 in order to exert said power. He resigned as an admin in order to run away like a coward, abandoning the most important person to him in the process. He was only so kind to Cerulean in order to trick her into giving him shelter, being dishonest about who he was in the process.
He only fell in love with Taph because he was the easiest to manipulate. Because he had power over him. Because he wanted to exploit him into being his emotional support pet.
Taph loved him with his entire being, but he never truly mattered to Dusekkar.
Dusekkar really was better off dead.
...
..
.
Illumina said nothing more—they simply glared at the eternal flame. Their blinding pink eye shone the brightest in his field of vision. He knew exactly why they didn’t speak, and they knew that he knew: those self-dehumanising thoughts were exactly what they thought of him. Dusekkar thought there was no way their hatred for them could ever be justified—and yet...
Creeeeak...
A barely discernible noise came from the edge of the room. The sound of a door.
Illumina reacted immediately. They threw the blue pumpkin they were carrying on the floor with a loud thud—but that was not enough to shatter it. They pulled on their unstable eye and looked around like an eagle searching for prey.
“...they’re here at last.”
The being of light threw two daggers at one of the bookshelves, with them passing right through. It was an Entanglement shot. Who could possibly be here? Dusekkar didn’t even need to think to figure that out.
Illumina seemingly missed their daggers. Thorny vines started growing on one of their feet, quickly creeping their way up their leg. Weed Ensnarement. They used their sword to try to cut through the sprouts—but whenever they cut one, two more branched off it. Just how were they supposed to counter this spell!?
Light yet rapid footsteps were making the old floorboards creak. Finally, the visitor showed herself. Her wood-like antlers, her puffy grey garments and her bear fur cloak made her look a lot langer and more intimidating than she actually was. The chandelier cast a shadow of her that looked like one of the cryptids she had been trying her hardest to fend off. She might appear harmless and unassuming at first—but when she wanted to achieve something, nothing could get in her way.
Yet, as soon as she laid her obscured eyes onto the floor, all of that bloodlust was gone.
She saw it.
Dusekkar’s decapitated head.
A twisted smile engraved on it.
Panic began to set in.
“Cerulean...”
It was his voice. The pumpkin’s mouth-hole quivered, but it wasn’t coming from it. She slowly turned around to the direction of the voice.
It was a powerful flame that blinded her at first. Actually... It was attached to a body, tied to a chair with ropes. It took her some time, but she could recognise who it was from his tattered grey robes.
“P... P-Pu...—”
Cerulean stammered. Her shock didn’t even allow her to speak. All of the words she wanted to utter were clogging her throat.
She thought she was prepared for every scenario.. She was even prepared to see him dead. Nothing, however, could’ve prepared her to see him like this.
Taph was at the other end of the library, planting his tripwires and tripmines amidst the bookshelves, completely oblivious.
Even from there, he could hear her blood-curdling scream echoing throughout.
Notes:
Yay! More body horror in this shameless angst fic!
I thought of shoving the rest of the scene in this chapter as well, but I figured I didn't want an 8000-word chapter taking a week to publish. Chapter 20 is gonna be pretty tricky to write so it might take a day or two longer to come out, but trust me that it's not going to disappoint you :3
Chapter Text
Alerted by Cerulean’s scream, Taph dropped the tripmine in his hand and rushed over to where it came from. Immediately, he saw the forest guardian standing completely still, while Illumina was struggling to free their foot from a swarm of vines. As soon as he caught glimpse of them, he clenched his hands into fists.
Illumina had betrayed him in the worst way. Something rotten had taken over them as soon as they’d changed their identity and gotten themself that new pair of wings; he just knew that. He was never going to forgive them unless they let Dusekkar go.
Cerulean heard Taph’s staccato footsteps and immediately turned back to him.
“Taph, don’t get closer! I’ll take care of this.” she commanded as she manoeuvred her staff. “Go back to building the nest.”
A bookshelf hid his line of vision to Dusekkar, so she knew he couldn’t see him. Cerulean was still dealing with the shock of seeing him decapitated, but she was aware enough to do anything in her power to spare Taph from witnessing what she witnessed.
Taph listened to her and ran back. He put his complete trust in Cerulean—somebody he thought had wanted him dead mere hours ago.
She turned back to Illumina, who had almost freed themself from the spell she had used against them nearly a minute ago. However, they were still struggling.
Her shock turned to anger. She still regretted not having been harsher on them. Now, at least, she was going to show them how she truly felt.
“You’re dead meat.”
Her arms moving as quickly as those of a mantis, it took her mere seconds to cast a spell: Thorn Shot. Brown spikes started coming out of the empty space between the start and the end of her staff’s circularly curved tip, launching themselves straight ahead. Now, she had turned her big stick into a machine gun.
Illumina had just managed to free themself—but their nightmare was only about to start. As soon as they saw the first couple of spikes heading their way, they ducked and tried their best to deflect them with their sword. They pulled out their second, identical sword too with the intention to block more of them—but the projectiles just kept coming, and some ended up penetrating their skin.
It was obvious what Cerulean was trying to do: she was baiting them to protect other parts of their body so that she could hit them right in the eyes.
Illumina wasn’t any less sensitive to pain than it had been the night before; they could feel that horrible sensation reverberating throughout their body with every thorn that pierced them. The only way they could put a halt to this unstoppable barrage was by launching a counterattack.
They recoiled their two swords before lunging them forward, creating not one, but four red shockwaves. The Illumina was a lot lighter and quicker than the Venomshank, which allowed them to do repeat this move a couple of times and launch multiple subsequent, smaller Mass Infections back-to-back.
It all happened so fast that Cerulean didn’t quite manage to react in time. She ran aside when she saw the first projectile, all the while still firing at Illumina—but she wasn’t fast enough, and two of the Mass Infections hit her and knocked her back several metres, which caused her to land on her rear. They had pierced her straight across the torso, creating two long cuts into her stomach. A dark liquid started seeping from them, brown in colour. Cerulean brushed it with her hand and put it up to her nose to sniff it.
It smelled just like blood.
Her painful wound didn’t disturb her quite as much as the horrifying realisation. No matter whether she came out of this fight alive or not, she was doomed to die.
...
Illumina ran towards Cerulean, but as soon as they reached her, they didn’t continue their assault. Instead, they simply looked at her as she kneeled and covered her abdomen with her arm, trying to prevent it from bleeding.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” they uttered. They could’ve been lying because they were intimidated by her, but she could tell they were being truthful. They only had it out for Dusekkar. “You know nothing about me, or why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m giving you a chance to hear me out; if not, you and Taph can run away. Don’t force me to do something I’ll regret.”
“Why should I trust you? You desecrated Dusekkar, and now you’re threatening me if I don’t listen to you. For all I care, you’re nothing but a sadistic wretch.”
“You may not trust me, but I’m telling the truth. You’re familiar with black magic poisoning, aren’t you?”
Cerulean’s cold, intimidating scowl intensified. Regrettably, she nodded.
“Of course you are. You fell into the trap that many young mages have fallen in before you. Dusekkar was no different from you when he was your age. As you know, it is completely incurable—or so you assume.
There is a spell that is able to negate the effects of black magic on you and make you immortal. It’s called Eternal Flame, and it forces your body to run on magic instead of blood. Nobody has ever cast it due to its extreme difficulty, and more importantly, due to the hundreds of human sacrifices it requires.
Nobody, except for Dusekkar.
That’s how he became a mass murderer, and that’s why I want to bring him to justice.”
Just what was Illumina speaking? A cure to black magic? It sounded like nothing but baseless legends.
“I know you’re speaking out of your ass right now. Stop trying to turn me against him, because it’s not going to work.”
“Oh, but I’m not lying.” The being of light walked back to the mage, who was still tied nearby and could hear everything. Cerulean followed them.
Neither of them could see him, but Taph was sneaking up behind the two of them after having heard some of what Illumina had said. He was holding a glowing blue broadsword with a carving of Dusekkar’s pumpkin at its base—this was none other than the Blade of the Dusekkar. He had taken it off a frame on the wall because he’d forgotten to get himself a proper weapon. Little did he know the true power of it.
“Dusekkar, was I telling the truth just now?” Illumina asked, their Unstable Eye blinding him as soon as they turned to him like a flashlight.
“Yes... It’s true.” His voice was so quiet it was nearly a whisper. He was looking at the floor trying to hide himself, even though his soul was already fully visible. “I couldn’t remember any of it until Illumina reminded me. I’m sorry.”
Oh.
He was an admin—that, she was willing to accept. But this?
Had she really spent all this time giving a liar and a murderer a home? Letting him have a place in her life? Letting herself get so attached to him?
Dusekkar was remorseful and didn’t make an attempt to deny it. She could try to forgive Taph, who had only affected her family. But it was a different story about Dusekkar, who had wiped out dozens of families.
She knew Illumina was no better than him. Unlike Dusekkar, they blatantly gave her off the aura of a murderer—a prolific one, at that.
In fact, everybody in this room was a murderer. She wasn’t safe here.
“I’ll... I’ll—”
Cerulean needed to get out. She needed to get out and not look back.
But...
But was this really enough to hate him...?
“I’ll... need me a moment... Excuse me.”
Her voice was shaking with every word. She was trying her best to hold back her tears—but right as she finished her sentence, a couple of stragglers started slipping out. As soon as she realised this, she covered her face and ran away, with nobody making an attempt to catch up to her.
When Illumina turned back to her, they finally saw the demolitionist who had been standing behind her. He was tightly holding the Blade of the Dusekkar with both of his hands, practically hugging it. Seeing them look straight into him made him even more scared. It’s like they could see his pathetic self from behind that hood.
Illumina knew just how dangerous the sword he was holding was. It was Dusekkar’s staff back when he had been at his prime, before he’d become an admin. Not only did it have an astounding ability to channel magic of all kinds, but it also doubled as a fearsome weapon that could slice people in two. However, the demolitionist was only versed in light weapons such as daggers and shortswords—he wouldn’t be much of a threat with this.
“Taph, how does it make you feel? Knowing that the person you love only cares about saving himself, and he would rather kill an entire community?”
Taph didn’t say a word. He simply trudged to where Dusekkar was tied, even though his line of vision to him was still blocked. Illumina continued, following him.
“How does it make you feel, knowing he left you to suffer at the hands of the admins, simply because the pressure got too much to him?”
Taph walked up to Dusekkar. Finally, he was able to see him in his true nature, without anything covering it up. He stared at him for a couple of seconds—but due to his lack of facial expressions, it was impossible to gauge how he felt. Illumina continued.
“How does it make you feel, knowing he only does the bare minimum to defend you in order to exploit you for your sympathy?”
“Taph...”
The mage muttered his name. He wanted to say something more, but he couldn’t think of anything. He couldn’t defend himself—everything he did was completely inexcusable. He couldn’t apologise either—a simple “sorry” wouldn’t be enough for everything he’d done. Illumina continued.
“How does it make you feel, knowing he doesn’t really love you?”
...
Taph drew out the blade, holding it by the handle with both of his hands. He was ready to kill.
Dusekkar was now left completely at his mercy.
The Dark drew closer to him, until he could feel the warmth from his flame on his own face. The Fire wanted to plead; he wanted to beg him not to hurt him—but he knew he had no right to decide what he did. It was about time that he be held accountable for all of the atrocities he’d committed. He was about to die in the worst way: with his own blade, by the hand of the person he loved, after he had grown to hate him due to his actions.
Illumina was watching them closely, briming with sadistic ecstasy. Finally, this weight on their chest was going to fall. Finally, the person who had ruined their life was going to get a taste of what true despair felt like.
Taph raised the Blade of the Dusekkar in the air. The Fire’s entire life flashed before his eyes. He was impatiently anticipating death.
Not after a moment’s hesitation, the demolitionist brought it down onto him, slashing him down across the torso.
...
It was over.
...
..
.
What?
The sword had barely scratched Dusekkar’s clothes. The ropes confining him, however, were cleanly cut, allowing him to break free. This was no mistake. Taph walked behind him and slashed again, this time to free him of the ropes tying his hands together.
“Taph... why...?”
The former admin was in complete disbelief, even more so than Illumina. Was he seriously able to forgive him, even after all of this...?
“Lies.”
Taph’s hissing voice resounded throughout the entire library, enough to make the creature cover their ears. After he said this, he stood still for a moment, touching his dry lips through his bandana.
Did that sound really come from him?
The Blade of the Dusekkar’s magical properties—they gave him the ability to speak! His entire life, he’d been dreaming of this; now, he finally had a voice. However, he had more pressing matters to worry about.
“1x1x1x1, I will never forgive you for this. Nobody can hurt Dusky.”
Taph struggled to speak—he didn’t quite know where to put the stress in a sentence or how to talk in a formidable tone. However, his inhuman voice alone was formidable.
No sooner had he finished his words than he ran at Illumina and lunged ahead. It was so unexpected that they were unable to dodge.
Taph thrust the sword into Illumina’s stomach, with such force that its tip poked out of their back. He shifted it up and down in order to exacerbate the wound and make them bleed even more. The overpowering stench of ozone filled the air—it came from the sky-blue blood spilling from the creature.
“You...”
Uncontrollable rage began flooding in their veins.
They were just trying to protect them from the abomination that was Dusekkar. They were trying to warn him of all the ways he had manipulated him. And beyond that: they had helped him out when the mage was missing from his life; they had been there during his darkest times; they had saved him from being mercilessly killed.
And this was the thanks they got?
To Illumina, this was nothing but shameless betrayal.
They wished they had made use of every opportunity they’d ever gotten to kill him.
Now, they really were going to kill him. Not Dusekkar—he was the one that needed to go first. The pain resounding throughout Illumina from that critical wound was completely unbearable—but their urge to get back at him was more overpowering than anything.
Illumina drew two daggers and hurled them at Taph. This Entanglement shot was from such a close range that he couldn’t get away in time. And thus, they were frozen in place.
The creature carefully broke free of the Blade of the Dusekkar, which only made their bleeding worse. Seeing the glowing azure puddle on the floor made them come to a realisation: this injury was likely going to be lethal. Goddammit. They didn’t care enough to find some way to save themself—it’s not like it mattered anymore.
They were about to die at the hands of the one person who made them think humanity wasn’t completely deplorable—too bad he turned out to be no different from Dusekkar.
They walked behind Taph and drew their swords back, ready to launch a Mass Infection point-blank.
“I should’ve done this a long time ago when I had the chance. Goodbye.”
The surroundings were lit red from the subsequent shockwaves. And then, from Taph’s blood. He tumbled to the ground, lying on his stomach. His puddle of red blood started mixing with Illumina’s, turning the liquids purple.
Dusekkar could do nothing but watch as Taph was torn nearly in half. He couldn’t cast any spells—he was completely powerless to stop all of this.
The only person who was still willing to fight for him. The only person who still had faith in him, even after everything he’d done. Dusekkar had just failed him.
Taph was still writhing on the floor like a dying insect, which annoyed Illumina. In order to make sure to finish the job, they stabbed him from the back, precisely piercing his heart. His movements came to a sudden halt; only his wings were still jerking unnaturally on reflex—but soon, even that stopped.
After everything he’d been through, Taph could finally get some rest.
Dusekkar, not caring about the danger that Illumina posed to him, rushed over to the demolitionist’s corpse and dropped to his knees. He ran his fingers through his soft white feathers one last time. They were even cleaner than he remembered—Ceru had likely done a great job preening them. How much he wished he could get a feel of their soft embrace once more. The entire time he’d been held in this library, he’d been craving his touch. Now, it was gone forever.
He grabbed Taph’s hand with both of his, wanting to remind himself of what it felt like whenever he would make an excuse to hold him. His warmth... it was slowly fading away. His soul was disappearing into nothingness. His soul, that only he was there to appreciate.
No, this couldn’t be happening!
Before he’d even realised it, Dusekkar was weeping. Despite its unmoving expression, his discarded pumpkin on the floor had tears coming out of its eye-holes. However, they didn’t quite do his grief justice.
He hadn’t realised just how much Taph mattered to him until he was gone. Even with Cerulean, he’d felt a certain emptiness in his life when he wasn’t present. The couple of days after their reunion were some of the best times he’d ever had. He’d sworn to himself to be by his side forever, no matter what happened.
Now, the only place he could be together with him was in the afterlife.
However, Dusekkar knew that dying is not what Taph would’ve wanted. He was willing to fight for his sake. In order to not let him down, the mage was going to fight for himself. At least then, he would be proud of him.
But...
What even is the point of living, if Taph wasn’t there in the end?
Life had just lost its charm. There was nothing to look forward to.
Dusekkar shook his corpse aggressively.
“Taph! Wake up! Please!” he screamed—but his words lacked the magical properties to revive him. “Taph, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please, don’t leave me! Wake up!”
Taph wasn’t waking up.
“You’re so pathetic, you know that, Dusekkar?” Illumina sneered, looking down at the grieving mage. “You’re crying—and yet, it was your own fault that he died. You could’ve been there like he was there for you—but instead, you let me rip him in half just like that. Get up and stop denying the consequences of your own inaction.”
Dusekkar carefully grabbed his own blade from Taph’s hand before slowly getting back on his feet and backing away from the creature. He glared at them—though, it was pretty hard to be threatening without eyes. Regardless, he wasn’t having any of this.
“You amuse me, Illumina. You act like I’m the one who killed Taph—and yet, you ended him with your signature blow like an autograph. I may have done something despicable in the past—but that doesn’t mean I’m not trying to be better at last. What define me are not only my previous faults, but also the way I act by default. It was you who put me through so much pressure and caused me to make so many mistakes. Desperation is what anybody would feel when their close ones’ life is at stake. The only way I can free myself of my burdens’ anchor is by forcing you to meet your maker.”
Illumina’s exterior was unshakeable—but deep down, fear was beginning to grab them by the shoulders. They’d had the chance to execute Dusekkar with ease when he was examining Taph’s corpse, but instead they wanted to let his sorrow fully fester. Now, they were at an enormous disadvantage: the former admin was wielding one of the most powerful swords in all of Robloxia, he himself being the most powerful sorcerer currently alive, meanwhile they were already on the brink of death. However, if they truly wanted to fulfil their goal, they needed to keep a poker face.
“How delightful, Dusekkar. You’re so deep in your own self-indulgence that you’d rather play ignorance to everything you’ve done wrong. Well, no matter. You want Taph to wake up, don’t you? I’m feeling merciful today; let me grant your wish.”
Illumina plunged their two swords into their chest, intersecting with the wound Taph had inflicted on them, before turning them around and swiping them to the side, cutting up their insides even more. They growled from the pain as the blood dripping from them exacerbated even more—but they did this for a reason. They just Rejuvenated the Rotten.
Taph’s corpse started moving again. His back wings were slowly flitting back and forth. In a matter of seconds, he was back at his feet. He was struggling to maintain balance, but other than that, he was standing completely still. A white glow exuded from his body and from behind his hood.
There was something very wrong about him.
“Taph...?”
Dusekkar took a step forward and protruded his arm in a lame attempt to try to get closer to him. Seeing him up made him feel a wave of hope—but subconsciously, he knew...
Illumina pointed at the mage.
“Kill him.”
Oi, oi!
Taph... No, this wasn’t him. The remnant of Taph dashed at Dusekkar at full speed. Meanwhile, Dusekkar remained completely still, frozen in place.
He didn’t want to believe it.
Rather than trying to fight it, he extended his arms to the sides in order to catch it in a hug. As soon as it was about to land a punch, Dusekkar embraced it tightly, not giving it the chance to let go. As much as it was struggling in his grip, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to feel Taph in his arms once again. All he wanted was the soft caress of his wings.
But this wasn’t him.
The minion lacked the grace and sensuality of the demolitionist. It may be in control of his body, but nothing could replicate the beauty of his soul.
Despite this, Dusekkar didn’t want to let go. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a trace of him. Maybe he could come back. He was moving—not all hope was lost, after all.
The coldness of its body, the violence with which it struggled made his entire body shiver. Rather than tranquillity, all this creature brought him was discomfort and despair.
This wasn’t him.
The minion brought its knee to Dusekkar’s stomach with full force, making him back away from the pain and tumble on his rear.
It started running at him again, ready to continue its attack until he was completely dead. The mage brought his personal blade forward in readiness to retaliate, but his reluctance was still eating at him.
“T-Taph... Don’t you recognise me...?”
As soon as the minion was about to kick him again, he blocked his foot with his sword. It continued trying to hit him, but every attack was deflected.
“Please, stop... I don’t want to hurt you... Don’t make me... I... I love you...”
It was hard to string words together—they were broken up by his constant sobbing.
This was more painful than all of his worst nightmares.
The minion tried to go for another punch, but it was blocked again. Its speed was beginning to wear the mage out.
“You said... You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me... Don’t you remember...? I don’t want to...”
From the corner of his eye, Dusekkar spotted something. Illumina was on their knees, bleeding out, but... They were preparing an attack. A Mass Infection. If he had seen them just a second later, he likely would’ve wound up dead as well.
Before any of the projectiles could hit him, he used his Blade of the Dusekkar to lunge to the right at rapid speeds, making him avoid the last shockwave just barely. His attention immediately jumped to Taph’s killer.
“How cheap of you,” he scoffed. “You make me fight whom I most dread, all because you know you are already dead. Let me finish what Shedletsky failed to diminish.”
While he still had distance from the minion, he used the Vine Cage spell on it in order to entrap it in a tall ring of unbreakable plants so that it didn’t pose any further danger. Then, he ran towards the dying Illumina before stopping in front of them.. He watched as they swung their swords at Dusekkar and tried their hardest to get up—but all they did was fall to the floor once more. They were slipping in their own pool of blood like a pig in a mudpit, their entire arms and legs covered by it. Illumina was never used to being this helpless. Finally, they got a taste of everything they had done to the pumpkin.
He spoke once again. Despite his sadness, he tried his best to let his relief take over. Relief, that his worst nightmare was finally ending.
“You could’ve ended me so easily all this time, but instead you put your sadism prime. You may have been strong, but your power was never sublime. Once and for all, goodbye.”
After a couple brief strokes of the Blade of the Dusekkar, he shot a Plasma Beam at the creature in order to sap the last of its energy that kept it alive.
“Go to hell!” it hissed.
But then, it stopped.
The magenta light from its unstable eye flickered, before it completely shut off. It was unconsciously flapping its white wings, but that stopped too.
1x1x1x1 dropped on the floor, drowned in its own blood.
Finally.
No backdoors or escape attempts could save it from this fate. Once and for all, it was dead. The creature that never should’ve been created in the first place; the creature that never even wanted to exist—until it did.
Dusekkar felt a weight lifted from him. After the hell he’d been put through, no longer did he have to fear for his life at every second.
But...
But at what cost?
A pair of familiar antlers poked out from behind one of the bookshelves, which made the mage quickly turn his attention to that. Soon enough, she showed herself.
The forest guardian.
He stepped toward her.
“Ceru...? You’re still here?”
“I... I didn’t want to be angry at you. I needed some time, but I still accept you for what you are.”
Her eyes were red—it was obvious she had been crying. She was conflicted between her own values and her attachment to Dusekkar—but in the end, her attachment won. Despite his crimes in the past, despite his deception, he was not a bad person. He had simply done bad deeds.
The former admin still couldn’t look at her directly.
“I am not deserving of your forgiveness. Illumina was right: with you, I engaged in some dirty business.”
“Don’t listen to that liar! You never used me. You looked after me and filled a hole in my heart, not because you wanted something out of me, but because you really do care about me. I took you for granted, I didn’t appreciate all the effort you put—but I want you to know... It made me happy for once.”
Dusekkar was too choked with emotions to utter a word. All of his self-loathing thoughts were quickly disappearing; she had just opened his eyes to how much he really meant. Illumina was only saying those things to bring him despair. Their view on him was biased due to their own hatred; it didn’t reflect who he truly was.
Instead of saying anything, he ran to her and embraced her, and she hugged him back. He tried to keep his fiery head as far away from hers as possible so as to not set her on fire—but that didn’t take away from how nice it felt. She was just as soft as always.
At least she was alive and safe, he thought.
Little did he know.
Cerulean was the first one to let him go.
“Hold on. I’ll try to reattach your pumpkin. It must be painful to keep your fire exposed like this.”
She rushed over to fetch Dusekkar’s discarded head. It lay on the floor completely forgotten, tears still flowing out of it. Then, she quickly returned.
“Stay still. It’s going to sting a bit.”
The deer girl covered his flame with the pumpkin, trying to set it just at the right angle to match the cuts. It hurt at first, but then all the pain from the air touching his core disappeared at once. He felt immense relief.
“Are you sure this is going to work...?” he asked.
“I know what I’m doing. I’ll be using a healing spell that you taught me, after all.”
Cerulean’s confidence was unwavering. She held down Dusekkar’s squash with one hand and carefully cast a spell using her staff with the other. A circular green projectile was launched out of it, which exploded into a small huff of smoke. It was a perfectly aimed Healing Cloud. The small particles of magic quickly found their place and mostly patched the carving between his head and the rest of his body. The fake smile Illumina had given him was affected too, and his expression became natural again.
When she was done, he carefully touched his blue pumpkin get a feel of it. It was finally his again.
“Ah... Thank you... Thank you very much...”
One of the worst things that had been done to him was reversed, much to his great relief. However, what couldn’t be undone was...
Cerulean simply patted him on the shoulder. She was happy she was finally able to help him in return.
Then, her mind jumped to something else. Something much more important.
“By the way, pumpkin... Where’s Taph?”
Dusekkar’s satisfaction was replaced by that overwhelming grief again. He looked down, not saying anything. This alone made her learn the answer.
“I’m... I’m sorry...”
He ignored her apologies. Instead, he started walking to where Taph was, and she followed him. Since 1x1x1x1’s death, the minion had lost its only energy source, so now he was completely motionless once again. The barrier of vines around him had timed out as well.
The pumpkin kneeled down in front of the body, and Cerulean sat next to him. She observed the demolitionist carefully. No longer did she see him as that monster haunting her in her nightmares—now, she could feel the tranquillity emanating from him. Too bad he was dead.
“It’s a shame...” she uttered. As she looked at him, she tried to imagine what interacting with him would be like. Rather than being sorrowful, she even seemed somewhat curious. “Maybe in another world, we could’ve been friends.”
Cerulean patted one of his head wings. It felt like brushing against a cloud.
“The entire time I was with him, he reminded me of you. As much as I had used to hate him, a simple conversation with him made me realise just how precious he was. I’m glad he was able to forgive me before he...”
Sometime while she was speaking, Dusekkar had started quietly sobbing again. Just looking at him filled him with immense grief. The forest guardian noticed this after she had finished her words.
“Oh no...”
She put her arm across his back in an attempt to comfort him—but he only started weeping harder. She couldn’t help but empathise with him. After all, she had lost the most important people in her life as well in the past...
But no matter what she did, she wouldn’t be able to console him. She wouldn’t be able to bring the demolitionist back.
Unless...?
Cerulean began recounting all the spells she had learned from her black magic tomes she’d tried her hardest to memorise. She had recently realised just how much of a negative impact they’d had on her, but it was already way too late. She was doomed to die soon anyways, so it wouldn’t hurt casting one more spell.
As she was trying to think of something, it suddenly clicked. Lifeforce Transfer. It was from the very first tome of that kind she was really trying to memorise. Back then, she didn’t know what kind of situation she would use such a suicidal spell in—but now was the perfect time.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she stood up and readied her staff.
“Pumpkin, please forgive me for this.”
He turned back to her and saw her as she cast her last spell. Dozens of wide, flowing strokes, done perfectly. As her process progressed, the negative space below her staff’s curve started glowing white.
“Ceru, what are you doing...?”
She didn’t respond to Dusekkar’s question. Her eyes were closed; she was completely immersed in her craft. Even after all of the spells she had tried (and failed) to cast that day, her arms still moved swiftly and spryly—exactly how he had taught her.
As soon as she did the last stroke, a white ray of energy shot up from her staff, aimed straight at Taph’s corpse. It blinded the pumpkin, and he had to look away at first. As soon as it hit the demolitionist, his two pairs of wings started moving again. Slowly yet gracefully, they were moving. His chest was growing and shrinking—his lungs were being filled with air again.
Throughout this, however, Cerulean was visibly becoming more and more exhausted. Her staff was sucking in small black rays of energy from her—the energy needed to reinvigorate the demolitionist. Soon enough, she dropped to her knees.
Dusekkar was left in complete disbelief.
“Ceru, please stop this! You’re... You’re killing yourself...!”
A sad smile was engrained on her face. She rarely ever smiled—but at this moment, she knew she needed to stay strong.
“I was going to die soon anyways... And besides... I should have died a long time ago.”
“Stop saying that! You deserve to live, just as much as Taph does!”
He was holding her by the shoulders, shaking her to get her to stay awake—but it was no good. Her words were becoming drowsier and drowsier, and she was quickly slipping out of reality.
“You don’t understand... Black magic... I cursed myself...”
She started choking, and after a couple of seconds, she spewed something on the floor.
A blob of black sludge.
Black magic?
That’s right! He’d seen her use a share of black magic spells, but he never quite knew the extent of it. Perhaps she was just as bad as him as he had been before he’d cast the Eternal Flame. Except... Instead of forcing herself to live, she chose to embrace her death prematurely.
Dusekkar didn’t even see him at first, but Taph had woken up while the deer girl was still aiming the energy beam at him. He’d been revived for a second time that day—but now, it really was him. He crawled over to her and the pumpkin, struggling to figure out what was happening. As soon as he saw that Dusekkar was crying, he instinctively embraced him from behind with one of his back wings. The pumpkin shuddered at the sensation at first, but then he hugged him back with his arm.
Cerulean smiled at the hooded man.
“Taph... I forgive you... Please, don’t blame yourself for this... I just want you two to be... happy...”
As soon as she finished her words, the beams of energy stopped firing. She dropped to the floor, her staff falling with her.
She had just sacrificed herself for the man who had killed everybody close to her.
At least in her final moments, she was surrounded by something she could consider her family. That’s all she’d ever wanted.
Cerulean died with a smile on her pale face.
...
Notes:
I've been writing for the past nearly 6 hours. With some breaks, of course. 3000 words today. Almost 5000 over the past two days. Pretty sure that's my record. Wow.
I'd like to thank eightiesheadachetape for existing. I've been listening to their only album on loop writing half of this chapter; probably one of the most underrated breakcore artists ever.
If you're thinking about physically reprimanding me for this atrocity that I wrote, just know that I hired bodyguards. Currently living in a small mountain cabin. You can hurt me, but only if you get to me.
Next chapter will be the epilogue chapter! Don't expect it to be very long and have a lot of action. That's where I'll also leave my final thoughts on this fic, mainly because I have to go out in like an hour. It's a miracle I actually finished this 6000-word chapter in 1 unproductive day + 2 more days oh my god. In the past this would've taken me like a month.
٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
Chapter 21
Notes:
Finally. They get a break. 20 chapters of absolute suffering, and they finally get the ending that they deserve.
♡⸜(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ )⸝
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mr. Builderman,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I figured you deserve a little closure about where I’ve gone.
I want you to know that I’m safe, and you should cancel the search for me. A lot has happened to me over the past couple of weeks, ever since I was caught up in that protest. I reunited with Dusekkar thanks to 1x1x1x1. After it killed Mr. Shedletsky, it tried to kill him as well, but after a long standoff, we managed to get rid of it instead.
I tried to return to my house, only to find out it had been completely vandalised by the protestors. I wasn’t there to keep the traps in check, so they managed to get past them and ruin everything. Right now, I have no choice but to stay in Dusekkar’s home.
If you’re wondering how Dusekkar is doing, he is not in very good condition right now. The battle with 1x1x1x1 happened a couple of weeks ago now, and he’s still shaken up by it. He’s going to recover in due time, but no matter what happens, I don’t think he’s ever going back to being an admin. Even though 1x1x1x1 (the reason he resigned in the first place) is now gone, he was never happy being put under so much pressure. He had wanted to resign long ago, but he always felt a certain responsibility on his shoulders to continue with his duties.
Dusekkar told me that he and Shedletsky were the only two admins that were immortal, and that they were the so-called eternal admins. You, Doombringer and the others are mortal, and you will be replaced when you pass away. I also learned that since I’m Telamon’s creation, I’m immortal as well; my centuries of experience likely explain why I’m so skilled at my job. In any case, Dusekkar has done something terrible in the past in order to earn his immortality; I won’t get into details. Even though he didn’t remember exactly what he’d done until recently, he’d always felt the duty to serve the people in order to make up for inexplicable feelings of guilt he experienced. He felt forced by his own mind to try his hardest as an admin, and while he did a great job, this put him through immense pressure. When he found out the true nature of why he was like this, he realised that a role that held so much power was not fit for him.
I feel the same way as Dusekkar about myself, and I will not be returning to my position as head demolitionist. At the end of the day, I did enjoy my profession—but the sheer amount of work I was made to do, as well as the civilians harassing me on the street, made it hard for me to keep going. I wanted to run away just like Dusekkar, but what stopped me is the fact that I felt no greater purpose other than doing my job and destroying buildings. I thought that if I ran away, I would fail as a person and have nothing to live for anymore. Dusekkar has since helped me discover other things to experience in life and made me realise that I hold value other than my skills as a demolitionist.
Builderman, I know that you started showing concern for me as well. I lied to you that everything was fine because I didn’t want to seem vulnerable. I’m sorry for this; I realise that you simply wanted to make me feel more comfortable. But even if my conditions end up being better, I still don’t want to go back to being a demolitionist—I have too many negative feelings associated with the Roblox HQ, and I’m also scared for my own safety.
I know that it must be hard for you, after two of the most influential admins have left months apart from each other. It’s hard for me to move on from everything that has happened as well. However, I believe in you that you’re going to be able to turn things around and build a new admin team that is able to get Robloxia back on track. You can be a great leader when you put your mind to it—I’ve seen that first-hand. I still have nothing but respect for you and I’m sorry that things had to turn out this way. Even though you’ve put me through a lot of pressure, I also want to thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.
I wish you nothing but the best,
Taph
As soon as the former demolitionist finished writing and set his pen down, he simply stared at the letter. Not reading it back—just staring. The bright moonlight illuminated the page through the latticed window, otherwise leaving him in complete darkness.
It had been hard for him to accept the fact he was never coming back to his old life—but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to work again. That routine he’d followed for hundreds of years had been engrained in his mind—but he’d only realised recently how much he’d grown to dread it.
A couple days ago, partly thanks to Dusekkar’s encouragement, he finally took off his uniform in front of him without looking back. Despite how much he disliked how much it confined him, he had become way too attached to it and the safety he felt in it. In fact, however, his robes were anything but safe. Ironically enough, people were much less likely to recognise him in public if his face was on display than if it was obscured.
He wasn’t used to being seen by anyone else. He wasn’t used to wearing normal clothes. He felt exposed; he felt vulnerable. But Dusekkar’s constant compliments and reassurance made him feel a certain way: every time, he would blush, not knowing how to respond. Secretly, he loved it. For once, he felt like he was appreciated for his true nature.
Dusekkar would rarely go outside, and when he did, it was to help Taph integrate himself into everyday life after having spent so much time as little but a servant. He would take him to shops or to restaurants or to amusement parks—places the mage himself had rarely had the chance to go to. People would always stare at the both of them: at Dusekkar for his classic look of a Halloween costume, and at Taph for his two pairs of wings. It was not the kind of couple you’d see every day.
Initially Taph was paranoid of all the attention, having been traumatised by all the times people would heckle him or harass him in public; he would always cling on to Dusekkar to feel protected. However, as he kept having positive experiences, that fear gradually started disappearing. Being a normal member of society and not the driving force behind the real estate market made him feel so much better.
Despite the nightmare Taph had gone through the past couple of months, despite the trauma of nearly dying so many times and even being resurrected twice, overall he was happy. The worst of times were over, and now he knew he was able to live in peace. However, a certain feeling never left him:
Survivor’s guilt.
Those thoughts would often haunt him. How he hurt her so much, how he beat her to the brink of death—and in the end, how she gave up her own life so that he could survive.
It was a miracle that Taph could experience the happiness that he experienced now. It was a miracle that he was able to live the life he had always dreamed of, his favourite person by his side.
And it was all thanks to her.
Sometimes, images would flash in his mind. A young kid with budding antlers, screaming for their father as their home was being turned to rubble. The same kid more than a decade later, grasping at his neck and begging him to die already. Her exact words had been playing back in his mind the moment Illumina had torn him in half.
Really, Taph wondered how things would’ve turned out differently if Cerulean had managed to kill him that day. That way, she could’ve stayed alive, without having to sacrifice herself for him. He thought he deserved everything bad that had happened to him, and the civilians had a right to harass him on the streets. It was the least that could happen to make him pay for his atrocity, especially after Builderman had covered up everything.
Even though she forgave him in the end, he struggled to forgive himself.
But then, he remembered her sweet smile as she passed. It was the second time he’d ever seen her smile; the first time hadn’t even been for him. He remembered her final words.
I just want you two to be happy.
She wanted Taph to live for her sake. She wanted him to experience something she couldn’t: happiness. Despite the short time they’d spent getting to know each other, she truly cared about him.
That’s what drove Taph to push aside that guilt and fulfil that wish of hers. He made sure she still lived in his heart.
Dusekkar, however, wasn’t so quick to recover from her death.
As soon as everything wrapped up, he fell into a severe depression. The only thing he could do for the first week was lie in bed and drown in his own memories.
He was still unable to process everything. His beheading, him learning the enormity he’d committed in his past, both Taph and Cerulean’s deaths, the person he loved trying to kill him, all in a matter of hours. Even though Taph had come out alive in the end, not even he was able to make him recover at first.
Dusekkar would wake up in the middle of the night, clinging onto his pumpkin for dear life as if somebody were trying to snatch it away from him. Taph would try to calm him down, cuddling him and embracing him with his wings—but even then, it would sometimes take him a long time to get back to his senses and fall back asleep. He suffered from nightmares every night, and seemingly trivial things were enough to set off his trauma and make him enter a panic. Taph always did his best to be patient with him, comforting him and teaching him to fix his breathing. Sometimes Dusekkar would turn nearly uncontrollable—he would be terrified of Taph, thinking he’s under 1x1x1x1’s influence and that he’s trying to kill him. After each episode, however, he would be extremely apologetic. He felt terrible for making Taph see him at his worst—but the former demolitionist was never annoyed at him. He knew just how much he’d suffered.
Even though the pumpkin struggled to keep himself going, he would do anything for Taph. He had even become somewhat overprotective of him due to having seen him die, but he was trying to control it. Whenever they spent time together, he would always try to live in the moment and keep a smile on his face, and even though it wasn’t easy to keep it up, he truly felt happy when he was with the one he loved. Whenever they would go out, he could forget all of his sorrows for once—after all, he’d been dreaming to go on dates with him for years. It brought him indescribable joy every time Taph would eat a new dish or visit a place for the first time—he knew how much he’d been looking forward to making use of his free time like this.
At the most random of times, Dusekkar would get random flashbacks of Cerulean. He tried not to think of her too much, but her death weighed heavy on him. He knew he was going to die anyway, and he wasn’t angry at Taph for living at the cost of her. He was only angry at himself. He could’ve taught her better, he could’ve told her just how dangerous black magic was—then maybe, she wouldn’t have gotten herself lethally poisoned by it. He’d caught up to her abuse of it way too late, and he should’ve been more wary of the signs.
However, he knew it was already too late to dwell on that. He was at least glad that he’d been able to bring her some warmth in her final couple of months. He’d served as her father figure she had so badly longed for. He’d had a bittersweet experience with her, but he’d learned to take it in as a mostly sweet experience.
Gubby had entered through the portal when Cerulean and Taph had come here to rescue him; it served as something to remember the forest guardian by. Sometimes he would hold it for hours, pretending it was her head, meanwhile it would simply shuffle around, confused. Even though Taph took the initiative in doing most of the chores, Dusekkar insisted that he be the one to feed and take care of Gubby. It grew to love his affection. Mostly because it always got its favourite foods. But he loved it nonetheless.
Even though he couldn’t forgive himself for the hundreds of people he’d killed, he tried his best to be a good person. Instead of dwelling on that and spreading further negativity, he was only going to be kind to others and to himself. For Taph and for Cerulean’s sakes.
Even after those tens of thousands of mistakes, even after that everybody’s incomprehensible suffering, the two of them were able to rebuild their lives together and finally live in peace.
Until...
A certain presence made use of the admin team’s instability.
Builderman was found dead in the meeting room. The other admins went missing.
The world as we knew it was about to be flipped on its head.
Notes:
Yeah. This is Forsaken, after all. What did you expect?
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