Chapter Text
The moment Wemmbu got thrown back into solitary confinement, he knew exactly two things.
First, the guards were unbelievably dramatic. Second, he was definitely onto something.
The cell door slammed shut behind him.
CLANG.
Wemmbu flinched despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, real scary.”
The guard glared.
Wemmbu glared back.
The guard continued glaring.
Wemmbu eventually sighed. “You’re making this weird, man!” he scowled. “Get another hobby!”
The guard walked away.
“That’s right. Run.”
The guard did not run.
Wemmbu slumped against the wall.
Silence settled over the room.
Again.
Wemmbu was getting real tired of silence and secrets. But silence gave him time to think, unlike secrets, which only confused him. And unfortunately, he had a big secret being kept from him.
Flame.
The thought appeared immediately.
Wemmbu groaned. “Great.” He dragged both hands down his face. “Now I’m doing it too.”
Everybody was acting weird whenever Flame came up.
Lomedy.
The guards.
Lettuce.
All of them!
Something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong.
Wemmbu pushed himself upright and began pacing.
Three steps.
Turn.
Another three steps.
Another turn.
The cell wasn’t exactly built for exercise.
“Okay.” He pointed at the wall. “What do I know?”
Wemmbu slowly slid his fingertip across the wall, clearing away the dust to make a line. “Flame disappears… Lomedy knows something, and Lettuce keeps avoiding answers. Oh! And security gets increased!”
He stopped drawing lines. “And somehow I’m the one sitting in solitary confinement.” He sighed.
The wall remained deeply unhelpful.
“…Well, actually, that last one makes sense. I’d put me in solitary too.”
“UGH!”
He kicked the wall and immediately regretted it.
“OW!”
“Noo…” Wemmbu slid down until he was sitting on the floor. His head dropped back against the stone.
For the first time all day, his expression faltered.
He hated thinking about Flame. Not because he disliked him, but because he didn’t know what he was supposed to feel.
Angry? Probably. Flame had betrayed him.
Wemmbu still remembered sitting there underground, no mace in hand, being held at sword point by Lettuce.
Flame’s main priority was his rematch and earning his title back. And he did. Wemmbu was just the obstacle. There was no reason for Flame to care about Wemmbu after defeating him.
His jaw tightened.
“…Idiot.”
The insult lacked any real heat.
The more he thought about it, the less it fit. Flame wasn’t malicious. Never. Stubborn? Most certainly. But that wasn’t malicious.
Wemmbu buried his face in his hands.
The problem was that Flame always did what he thought was right. Even if it was the stupidest thing in Unstable.
Despite everything. Despite all the hurt, betrayal, and revenge, Wemmbu couldn’t stop thinking about how fragile Flame actually was.
Not physically.
Flame just acted tough.
He could talk tough and fight tough. But underneath all that?
He felt things.
Flame might have been too stubborn to realize it, but Wemmbu could see it. It was almost like him and Eggchan.
Although Wemmbu didn’t want to admit it, Eggchan was his anchor. The same could be said about Lomedy and Flame. But Flame was so used to being alone that taking advice from other people was out of the question.
“Why am I worried about him?”
The room remained silent.
He punched the wall again. Harder this time. Pain shot through his knuckles, but he didn’t care.
“What happened to you?”
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Suddenly, the silence felt heavier because nobody had an answer.
He didn’t have an answer.
Lomedy didn’t either.
Or at least, that was what Lomedy claimed.
Wemmbu ran both hands through his hair.
He was feeling everything at once.
All he wanted was some answers.
That was it!
He wasn’t asking for much!
Just one answer.
One explanation.
One clue.
Anything!
The lights abruptly died.
Wemmbu froze.
“…Oh.”
Darkness swallowed the cell.
“…Here we go.”
A familiar voice emerged from the window ahead.
“Still talking to walls?”
Wemmbu groaned immediately.
“Seriously?”
The emergency lights kicked on, and a figure emerged from the darkness.
Spoke.
Of course, it was Spoke.
Who else would casually appear inside a maximum-security prison cell?
“You know,” Wemmbu said, “most people wouldn’t do this.”
“I’m not like most players.” What a Flame thing to say…
“Apparently.”
Spoke folded his arms.
“Okay… Are you ready yet?”
Wemmbu already knew what he meant.
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish!”
“I know exactly what you’re asking.”
“And?”
“No.”
Spoke looked offended.
Wemmbu smirked.
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re annoying.”
“Fair.”
The two stared at each other.
Spoke eventually broke first.
“You are aware I’m offering to break you out?”
“Yes.”
“And you keep refusing.”
“Also yes.”
“You’re currently in prison.”
“Very observant!”
Spoke rubbed his forehead.
“What is wrong with you?”
Wemmbu pointed immediately.
“Flame.”
Spoke blinked.
“What?”
“Flame.”
“What about him?”
“Where is he?”
Spoke stared.
“…That’s why you’re refusing?”
“Partly.”
“Wemmbu.”
“Spoke.”
“Wemmbu.”
“Spoke.”
The silence stretched.
Spoke sighed.
“I don’t know where Flame is.”
“I figured.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because maybe you suddenly developed competence.”
Spoke looked genuinely offended.
“I am competent!”
“Sure.”
“I am.”
“Sure.”
“I literally broke into a prison.”
“And yet somehow you still don’t know anything!”
Spoke pointed accusingly.
“You’re lucky I like Parrot.”
That slightly got Wemmbu’s attention.
“I need you out.”
“No.”
“Wemmbu.”
“No.”
“Parrot needs support.”
“No.”
“Law needs to go.”
“No.”
Spoke looked ready to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath.
An idea seemed to occur to him.
His expression changed, and Wemmbu didn’t trust it.
“What?”
Spoke smiled.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard it yet.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You do.”
Wemmbu groaned.
Spoke continued anyway.
“You come with me.”
“No.”
“I spend a week gathering information.”
Wemmbu paused.
“A week?” He narrowed his eyes. “On what?”
“Flame.”
The room fell quiet.
Spoke leaned against the ledge of the window.
“You want answers, and you clearly aren’t leaving without them.”
Still nothing.
“So I’ll get them! Absolutely everything I can find. One hundred percent.”
“I’ll find where he is, what Lettuce is doing, and why your execution got postponed.”
Wemmbu’s expression slowly darkened because that last one bothered him a lot too.
Lettuce had delayed it for some reason.
And no competent leader delayed executions without a reason.
“What if you find nothing?” Wemmbu asked quietly.
Spoke shrugged.
“Then we know that means something too.”
Wemmbu hated that answer.
Spoke pushed off the ledge.
“One week, yeah?”
Silence.
“One week,” Spoke repeated.
Wemmbu looked down at the floor, thinking hard.
Every instinct told him something terrible was happening. Just as terrible as accepting a deal with Spoke, of all people.
But every day he stayed locked in prison, he got further away from finding out the truth.
Wemmbu sighed.
“Get to work.”
Spoke laughed in response.