Chapter Text
Schpood despised Elysium. With its pristine streets, its idealistic citizens, and especially its goody good leader. To him, they were all fools, too blind to see how fragile their so called peace really was.
But gosh he needed their aid more than ever.
Since the last council meeting when he’d tried and failed to unite the four largest factions of Island 1, Schpood had made some…. Impatient decisions. A bit impulsive, some may say. Perhaps even… reckless..? His attempt to “nudge” the Commonwealth with a show of military strength had backfired. Now Infernus and Elysium, who were already wary of associating with Saparata, were hesitating to join the alliance that had been so close to forming.
He clenched his jaw at the thought. The entire plan teetered on the edge, and he couldn’t afford another mistake.
At least Turntapp was still nominally on his side considering Schpood was helping Saps. Whatever strange bond existed between the two wasn’t Schpood’s concern. As long as Turntapp was on their side, that was all that mattered.
“Why are you dragging me along again?”
Speak of the devil.
Saps was trailing beside him, struggling to match his pace. Annoyance flickered in his tone, but his eyes darted warily across the immaculate courtyards and marble columns of Elysium. To be fair, they were attracting stares. The Westhelm’s guards flanking Schpood in full armor didn’t exactly blend into the peaceful capital.
“I told you, Saps—we’re going to try this meeting again,” Schpood declared, his stride unbroken. “We’re going to march straight into Benji’s office and convince him to give this alliance another chance.”
He deliberately ignored the incredulous look Saps shot his way.
“And why exactly do I have to be here?”
“For pitiful purposes.”
On Schpood’s left, his right-hand man let out a quiet scoff that drew a flicker of amusement from the guards. Saps only rolled his eyes, exasperated but clearly too tired to fight it.
“Archon Benji and his people already made it clear they don’t want anything to do with your alliance,” Saps said flatly. “Especially after what you pulled last week.”
Schpood didn’t bother replying.
Saps sighed, “You know, most people would take rejection as a sign to stop.”
Schpood smirked, glancing sideways at him. “Careful, Saparata. Keep that attitude up and I might start thinking you don’t appreciate my generosity in keeping you alive.”
“Oh, I appreciate it,” Saps replied dryly. “Every time I’m forced to follow you into another diplomatic disaster, I’m reminded just how lucky I am.”
5pyder chuckled behind them. “You two bicker like an old married couple.”
Saps scoffed. “If I ever marry someone like him, do me a favor and throw me back to Island 2.”
Schpood replied with a dismissive hum as they finally reached the ornate double doors. The marble walls glowed faintly in the sunlight. Elysium always loved to show off.
An Elysium citizen who seemed important but Schpood didn’t care enough to learn the name of, hurried forward, visibly alarmed. “Emperor Schpood you cannot simply barge in whenever you—”
“Actually I just did.”
Saps groaned quietly, dragging a hand down his face as the Elysiumin sputtered in protest.
Before the man could form another word, Schpood shoved open the doors to the Archon’s office.
“Benji! We need to talk,” he announced, his voice echoing through the vast chamber.
“Sir, I’m so sorry—I tried to stop him—”
“Nonsense,” Schpood said, flashing him a sharp grin. “Now leave us. We have important—”
His words died mid sentence.
The rest of the room seemed to fade from focus as his gaze finally landed on Benji.
Instead of sitting at his desk where he usually is, Benji was by the window, half-turned toward the light. Or maybe just staring through it.
The way he carried himself was heavy, every movement slow and drained of its usual grace. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened, carved into his pale skin. He’d always had eye bags, but now they seemed almost permanent.
And his eyes… the light that once defined him, that calm blue, was dimmed. Puffy and reddened. As if he’d been crying.
The leader of Elysium had always been perfect in the public eye. Inhumane to some. He’d always carried himself with such elegance and composure. The embodiment of the peace his people worshiped.
And Schpood hated him for it.
He’d hated the serenity Benji carried into every room, the quiet control that made Schpood’s own fire seem barbaric by comparison. Elysium and everything it stood for had always disgusted him.
And yet, standing there now—seeing that same man hollowed out, stripped of his godlike veneer—Schpood found himself frozen.
Shocked. Maybe even concerned.
He didn’t understand why it did, and that bothered him more than anything.
Benji stood up from his spot at the window and crossed the room, each step slow and deliberate.
“Emperor Schpood, Saparata.” His voice was even, but there was a faint tremor beneath the words. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this… unexpected visit?”
He smiled, but it was fragile. A practiced expression that stopped short of his eyes.
Saps dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment, clearly uncomfortable. Schpood didn’t move.
For a long moment, the Emperor just stared at him. The sight of Benji like this—pale, trembling, still trying to play the part of the immaculate leader—knocked something loose in his chest.
Was it pity? Schpood didn’t do pity. But there was something else there, something he didn’t care to name.
“You look like hell,” Schpood said finally.
Benji let out a faint laugh, one that sounded more like an exhale. “Always so charming.” He sank into the chair behind his desk, running a hand through his hair as if the gesture alone could smooth the fatigue from his face. “I assume you’re here to convince me to rejoin your grand alliance?”
Schpood smirked faintly. “You assume correctly.”
“Then allow me to save you the trouble,” Benji said, tone polite but brittle. “My answer hasn’t changed.”
The air thickened between them.
Saps glanced at Schpood, clearly sensing the shift, but the Emperor didn’t take his eyes off Benji. And for reasons he couldn’t explain, Schpood found himself hesitating.
Saps shifted uncomfortably beside him. “Maybe this isn’t the best time, Schpood,” he muttered under his breath.
Schpood ignored him. “I didn’t come all this way for another polite refusal.” His tone was smooth, almost casual, but the way his jaw tightened betrayed the tension underneath. “You need this alliance as much as I do.”
Benji’s faint smile didn’t waver, though his fingers trembled where they rested against the desk. “Need? I wasn’t aware peace required alliances built on intimidation.”
“Peace doesn’t last,” Schpood said evenly. “Your ideals are mindless.”
“And yet yours seems to create chaos every choice you make.”
Saps winced, sensing where this was heading.
Schpood took a slow step forward, his reflection catching faintly in the polished marble floor between them. “If you’re referring to the Commonwealth incident—”
“I’m referring to the fact that you don’t understand restraint,” Benji interrupted softly. His voice wasn’t sharp. If anything, it was weary, like he didn’t have the strength for anger. “You claim to want unity, yet every move you make divides us further.”
Benji leaned back in his chair, the motion small but strangely careful. His hand drifted toward a stack of papers, fingertips grazing the edges as though reminding himself of what he was supposed to be doing. The gesture faltered halfway, and he withdrew his hand like the effort alone had exhausted him.
Schpood watched the tremor he tried to suppress.
Benji reached for a quill—missed it by an inch. His fingers corrected, slower this time, and the moment of hesitation was brief but telling. He didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he straightened the scattered papers with a level of delicacy that looked more like he was trying not to reveal how unsteady his hands were.
Saps caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t comment, but his jaw ticked.
“You seem… busy,” Schpood said, tone deceptively neutral.
Benji exhaled softly through his nose. Not quite a laugh—too thin for that. “You know how it is. Elysium never sleeps.” The quip was meant to sound light. It didn’t. His voice frayed at the edges, betraying a dryness that suggested he hadn’t properly spoken to anyone in hours… maybe longer.
Benji set the quill down, but the tip clattered against the ink pot. His hand stilled immediately, fingers curling inwards to hide the slight tremble.
He forced a smile. “But I’m fine. Just… distracted.”
Saps’ eyes narrowed a fraction.
Schpood didn’t miss the slight wobble in Benji’s posture, the way he blinked just a little too long, the faint redness around his eyes as if every blink stung. There were pieces of his hair falling over his forehead as though he hadn’t bothered fixing it after waking.
Schpood stepped forward. “Distracted?” he echoed, crossing his arms. “You look like you’re going to collapse any moment now.”
A soft puff of amusement left Benji, but he didn't lift his gaze. “Emperors don’t collapse, Schpood. Neither do Archons. It’s bad for morale.”
5pyder shifted behind Schpood, eyes narrowing with quiet concern he didn’t voice.
Benji adjusted a document, but his grip slipped again. He steadied it quickly, pretending not to notice. “I can assure you,” he continued, “I’m perfectly capable of holding a simple conversation without—”
The word caught in his throat. He swallowed, but the motion looked painful. He paused again, blinking at his desk with a distant, unfocused stare, as if he briefly forgot the sentence he’d been forming.
Saps glanced at Schpood, waiting to see if he’d noticed.
He had.
Schpood frowned. Not deeply, just a faint pull at the corner of his mouth. Confusion, irritation, and something else he refused to name.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?” Schpood asked, gesturing vaguely to him.
Benji pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “Schpood you had barged in unannounced. I’m allowed to be caught off guard.” His breath shook—barely—but enough for Saps to stiffen.
When Benji lowered his hand, the thin smile was back.
“Regardless,” Benji said gently, “you came for an answer. And it remains the same as before. Elysium cannot join your alliance. You almost drove us into war when confronting the Commonwealth.”
Schpood opened his mouth to snap back, but the way Benji’s eyes briefly unfocused—just a flicker, like his vision swam—shut him up.
Saps took a subtle half-step forward before catching himself.
Benji didn’t notice.
Schpood did.
He stared at the Archon again, more carefully this time. The way he seemed to drift in and out of the conversation was becoming impossible to ignore.
“This alliance isn't going to build itself,” Schpood tried again. “And I can’t do it while you’re… like this.”
Benji’s smile twitched in place. His eyes dropped to his desk again—then slowly closed. It wasn’t dramatic. If anything it looked involuntary.
He caught himself and straightened.
“I said I’m fine,” he repeated, softer this time, but no more convincing than before.
Schpood wasn’t sure why that annoyed him. “Liar.”
Benji’s laugh ghosted the air tiredly, it was painfully human. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
Something twisted in Saps’s expression. He looked at Schpood, his jaw clinched as he tried to see what he was thinking.
The silence was heavy as Schpood stared at Benji with narrow eyes.
He was worried.
And he had no idea why.
Well, he knew why.
But he didn’t know why HE cared.
Benji blinked slowly again before lifting his gaze, beginning to stand. “I appreciate your concern,” he murmured, “but I assure you, I can—” His sentence fractured mid-word as his posture swayed
Saps took a half-step forward.
So did 5pyder, almost imperceptibly.
Schpood’s brows knitted together.
The Archon inhaled sharply through his nose, steadying himself with one hand against the desk. He forced a smile that was more grimace than anything.
“Just a momentary lapse,” he whispered. “I stood up too quickly earlier.”
Benji reached for a document to look occupied, but his fingers brushed the edges without picking it up. He tried again—slower this time—and managed to lift the paper, though the corner shook faintly between his fingers.
His eyes darted across the page without actually tracking the words.
“See?” he said softly. “I'm perfectly fine.”
The paper slipped from his grasp.
It fluttered to the desk.
Benji stared at it for a beat too long, as if trying to process what had just happened.
Saps swallowed hard. 5pyder tensed.
Schpood felt something twist inside him—an instinct he didn’t recognize, one that irritated him simply by existing.
“Benji,” he said again, slower now. “Enough.”
Benji shook his head. “I said I’m fine. Elysium needs me alert, not—”
He swayed again.
This time the desk shook as his hand caught it.
Schpood’s hand lurched before he could stop it.“You’re about to pass out.”
“I’m not,” Benji whispered, even as his eyes flickered shut for half a second.
Schpood stepped forward, instinct overriding pride. “Sit down before you fall.”
Benji blinked rapidly, trying to regain clarity. “I believe you should leave now, Emperor Schpood. My answer remains the same.”
“I don’t— Benji what the hell is the matter with you? Are you ill??”
“I already said I’m fine. Please leave.”
He wasn’t.
Not even close.
Saps glanced at Schpood, silently urging him to do something.
But Schpood could only stare with irritation and damningly concerned.
….
The doors shut behind them with a soft thud, but it felt louder somehow. Schpood didn’t look back. He strode down the marble hallway with long, clipped steps, the sound of his boots echoing sharply against the pristine floors of Elysium’s palace.
He wanted distance.
He wanted silence.
He wanted the image of Benji swaying in his chair to stop replaying in his head.
Saps followed close behind.
“Schpood—”
Nothing. The Emperor kept walking.
“Schpood, wait—”
“No.” Schpood’s tone cracked like a whip. “We’re done here.”
5pyder trailed behind them, quiet but watchful. His gaze flicked toward Saps, as if silently prompting him to keep trying.
“Seriously, we need to talk—”
“There is nothing to talk about,” Schpood snapped without turning. “The man said no. End of story.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Saps shot back, breaking into a half-jog to keep up. “You saw him. You were right in front of him—how can you pretend—”
Schpood’s shoulders tensed, but his pace didn’t slow.
“He’s exhausted. Leaders get exhausted. It’s not my problem.”
Saps opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again, louder this time. “Schpood, for once in your life, stop walking away!”
Finally, Schpood halted—but didn’t turn. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Saps hesitated behind him, chest rising and falling with the urgency of everything he’d been keeping in.
5pyder slowed to a stop too, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, eyes flicking between them. The guards behind them watched awkwardly.
“Schpood,” Saps tried again, “He was barely conscious. You heard the way he talked—saw how he kept losing his balance. That’s—” Saps cut himself off. “He’s not okay.”
Schpood exhaled sharply through his nose, irritation radiating off him. “So what? You expect me to fix him?”
“No that’s not—” Saps sighed with frustration. “I don’t know, okay? I just..” Saps glanced to the floor, his words trailing off.
Schpood scoffed. “He’s the Archon of Elysium. If he’s too weak to handle the weight of his own nation, then that’s his fault, not—”
“Schpood.” Saps said harshly, looking back up.
Schpood’s nostrils flared. “He said he was fine.”
“Oh come on. We both know he’s lying.”
Schpood’s lips pressed into a thin, angry line. “This isn’t our responsibility,” he muttered. “He’s a rival. Not a friend.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Saps argued. “He’s a person.”
Schpood glared at him, but the fight had softened around the edges, like the anger had nowhere left to land.
Saps sighed again. “Schpood I just think— I feel like we should.. Do something… I don't know,” he looked away again, frustrated with the words he couldn’t get out.
Schpood stared for a few more moments before turning away. “That’s not my concern,” he said, and began walking again.