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A long time ago, God became bored. He watched conflict after conflict, simply observing the world he created. It was the same loop, over and over, tyranny and battles and rebellions repeated like a song on loop.
Then, one day, God had a plan. He wanted to test something, to see if he could test the universe and rewrite the stars, to change fate itself— he thought, “If I were to bring a child from the future, and make them be born into the past, what would happen then?”
And even curiosity got the hold of him, so he did just that.
——————————————————— 1 ———————————————————————
The boy wandered, and wandered. He wasn’t sure how long he was wandering for, but he assumed it must’ve been for a while, right? He didn’t know. He only spawned in here maybe a bit ago. Or maybe a while ago. It feels like forever, anyway.
The level he wandered around was empty, not a single person in sight. The houses and buildings he passed by had their lights turned on, and if he looked long enough he would see movement inside. Why was everyone inside? It made the world outside be more creepy and spooky. He shook his head, and kept moving onwards. Maybe he’ll be able to find food if he looked long enough.
A bit more walking later, and he heard something just ahead. It sounded like.. someone was talking, maybe? Curious, he wanted to listen in, but he didn’t wanna be seen while doing so. He hopped over a couple blocks and hid behind a wall, peeking his head out to see.
And what he saw, was two people, standing on blocks surrounded by blocks, which he could only assume were hard jumps. Were they doing a parkour course? One person was a man, who looked distraught and terrified, far behind in the course. The other was a taller person— way ahead of the man, wearing a mask and a weird hat, with bells on the ends. Looking a bit more, he realized the person resembled of a jester, like the ones in the books with images. He didn’t really understand the big fancy words on the pages, but the images were cool.
Although he couldn’t fully hear what the man was saying, he knew that he was pleading for something, begging for the other man to step back, and to let him live. The jester man spoke no words, and simply took one step forward to the last block—
A scream, and then a burst, and then silence.
The boy blinked. One second there was a man, and the next there was red water splattered across the blocks and dripping down into the void. It was like the world had stopped. The wind was still, and there was no sound other then the dripping of the liquid dropping onto another block, and into the void.
The jesterman stared at the puddle, and only now did the boy notice a bit of the red water had splattered onto his mask. And then the jesterman turned directly towards him.
And he flinched- quickly ducking behind the wall. And for some reason, he held his breath, holding onto the strings of his hoodie and hoping that the jesterman didn’t see him—
“You can come out. I won’t hurt you.”
…He peeked his head out again. The jesterman had hopped off the parkour course, and was approaching the boy. He didn’t really have a reason to hide anymore, so he moved away from the wall. The tall jesterman paused infront of him and crouched down to his height.
“What’s your name?” He asked, and he took a moment to respond.
“..My name’s Evbo.”
“Evbo,” the jesterman repeated, tilting his head to the side a bit. “You can call me Clownpierce.”
Clownpierce. Weird name. Evbo nods, and the clown man speaks again. “Are you not afraid?” And that left him a bit confused. As far as Evbo knew, there was nothing around that would scare him. “Scared of what, mister?” Following the motion of the other, he tilted his head.
A curious hum. “Tell me, child, do you know why that man disappeared from thin air?”
Silence, for a bit. Evbo was thinking.
“..It was a parkour course. You were winning, and he was losing. Was.. was it because you won that he disappeared?” And the clown man nods, standing up and turning his head to the fading course.
“He was a commendable parkourist. If he had continued to keep jumping, kept fighting despite the odds, maybe I would’ve let him live.” A small pause. Somehow, Evbo doesn’t believe that last part. “But no. He chose to stop in his tracks, act as a coward and beg for his life. People who are weak like that, can’t live in a world like this.”
He nodded as the clown man talked. He wasn’t sure if he fully understood what he said, but at the same time he did. Then the clown man turned around to face Evbo, looking down. “Come with me, child. I’ll teach you how to survive and how to fight.”
He stared upwards at the man, before nodding.
Then, the clown man tilted his head, like an indicator that he was pleased, beginning to walk on ahead. Evbo stared as he walked, before realizing he should follow— quickly beginning to move ahead and slowing down at the side of the clown man.
He wasn’t sure what would happen now, but Evbo didn’t really mind not knowing. A soft smile grew on his face, finally glad that he was with someone— and that he didn’t need to wander anymore. He had somewhere to go now, and that was all he wanted.
——————————————————— 2 ———————————————————————
Evbo stared at the course below him, slowly watching it fade away, never to reappear again. Anger filled his veins. An entire layer was gone, all because of one man. He remembered how it all went down. His father was fighting with the champion, a man that he once knew— and the champion managed to win, trapping and sealing the clown man in the layer for however long.
The fighter layer was erased, deleted and forgotten by the people of this civilization— even its past inhabitants. It was nothing to anyone now. Expect for Evbo.
Right before the clown man was sealed away, he gave him a resistance potion. Told him to “drink it when the time was right,” and so he did. He remembered what happened, all of it. He was clutching his fist so harshly— he didn’t notice that there were fingernail marks in his hand turning a sickly red.
He released, hand trembling- he bit his lip and turned around. It was dark outside the temple, clouds blocking out the sun— well Evbo assumed anyway. It was hard to tell when there was a layer blocking out the sky. The wind was blowing, and he was almost out of the temple when he heard it. Quiet, shaky breathing, somewhere behind him in a corner.
He took a few steps back, and looked inbetween the towering statues, spotting a curled up figure, back against the wall. Drawing closer, Evbo realized it was a teen around his age— dressed up in golden jewelry and a messy purple robe draped over his shoulder. Huh. Stopping right infront, he sat down. “Hi.”
The teen looked up, taking a second to notice that there was someone infront of him, staring with tears in his eyes before looking away, trying to hide his face. He didn’t say anything, so Evbo would have to be the one to talk. “..Were you apart of the fighter layer?”
Again, the other didn’t answer, but he gave a sheepish nod, which was enough to confirm that he also remembered the layer. He wasn’t the only one who took a resistance potion after all. “You lost your family.” He mutters, staring at the floor. He could see the fighter curl up hearing that. Looking back up, he asked a somewhat important question.
“Whats your name?”
..He was quiet. Looking around and at the floor, before finally mumbling out, “seawatt.” And Evbo had a smile on his face. “Cool to meet you, Seawatt. My dad’s in the fighter layer too, but I can still save him. Then, we can go and get our revenge at the champion!” He made motions with his hands, a sense of confidence in his voice— but underlying anger he was putting away to try to keep things positive, if not for him then for the fighter infront of him.
“You wanna help?” He faced Seawatt, who stared— confused. Why would he employ the help of a random person? Then again, he wasn’t really random anymore, was he? He was one of the last fighters left. That made his stomach churn at the thought. Looking up at Evbo, he nods his head, who lit up when he agreed.
“Great!- Awesome, cool-“ He pushed himself up by the knees, holding his hand out to Seawatt. “Now come on, the faster we do this, the quicker we take revenge.” A grin grew on the jester’s face, and the fighter took his hand, pulling himself up before getting pulled out of the corner and out of the temple. “I think I’ve got an idea on where to go first,” Evbo spoke out, letting go of Seawatt and tilting his head towards a direction, before moving ahead.
Seawatt stares at Evbo getting farther and farther, before taking a deep breath, following after.
The story goes, that two boys— one, the son of “The Parkour Villain,” and the other, a mysterious boy who was found by the son, managed to find a way into his holding place and defeat the four parkour legends and set the Parkour Villain free, over the course of a couple years. The Old Champion was sealed away just as he did with the Villain, forced to watch as his oh so perfect civilization became a dystopia, as his citizens forget who he was.
——————————————————— 3 ———————————————————————
EMF stared at the book he held in his hands, reading the sacred tale of how parkour civilization became.. like this. Once a thriving, (debatably) well run world to a harsh, unforgiving place— where people only know to keep surviving and to keep living, and to keep fighting.
And, to be honest with himself, he wasn’t expecting to get this far. When he was given that ticket, he expected to lose in one of the parkour battles he had to face in the noob layer— his chance of freedom gone, left to bleed out on the dirt block. And he surely didn’t expect to actually make it to the pro layer, let alone all the way up to the Master level. It was unnerving, and for a while he was expecting to mess up and lose everything, but he didn’t.
And now, he was going farther than he had ever before, trying to find a supposed secret building all the way in the north that his master “friend”, AJ, had told him about. But in all honesty, EMF didn’t really have full trust in AJ. He had a sneaking suspicion that anyone would have when interacting with the guy, that AJ was just using EMF to try to claim the champion spot when EMF “beats the champion,” but even as he grows closer and closer to supposedly face the champion— he didn’t really believe he could do it.
Then, he paused in his tracks, staring ahead. He saw a building up ahead, built way different then the others he saw earlier. Walking closer, he saw a parkour course— and one that he dreaded to do. Looking ahead, it began with a four block jump and an ice pathway right after, with a large gap ahead that lead to a couple of steps into the building.
EMF took a deep breath, jumping onto the block— then back— before gaining momentum and landing on a block. He exhaled a shaky breath, crouching and looking at the ice ahead. If he were to guess, he’d had to slide and gain speed to jump at the perfect moment. Right. Totally easy. It’s not like he only has one try and one try only, totally not. No pressure at all. Cool. Cool. Cool!
He took a step back— shaking his hands around and taking in sharp breaths. Don’t hesitate, that’ll get you killed, echoed AJ’s voice in his head. Bracing himself, he inhaled one more time.. sprinting straight down the ice and jumping for the ledge.
It was like time slowed for a second. And in that second, EMF realized something a bit late. He was a bit farther then expected.
He crashed onto the ledge of the stairs— barely holding onto the edge with his hands, breathing increasingly growing fast as he tries to pull himself up as his legs dangled below— putting one arm on the steps and the other, he did so, scrambling to get inside the building and lay flat on the ground, tail thrashing around, heavy breathing and heart pounding in his chest and head.
For a long amount of time, EMF laid there. He was trying to calm himself down and you know, not have his legs give out on him when he stands up. When his heart finally stopped to freak out, he got up and looked around at his surroundings. It was mostly empty, save for a .. glass.. parkour.. course.. that’s vertical.
A groan. If there was a parkour god, they must really hate him, huh?
After what felt like a MILLENNIAAAAA, he had managed to barely make it up the course and arrive on the second floor. It was messy— a cluster of dusty shelves across the walls and old books only a quarter of them. But one book caught his eye— there was a table set on the side of the room with the book on it, with a large screen above it, displaying words and images and things he couldn’t really process, and didn’t bother to right at this moment. He walked closer to the book, picking it up.
The book wasn’t really a book— it seemed to be more of a journal, and one that was used often that is. Opening it up, he read its contents.
“24/07/XXXX.
Beginning of Research.
Since I have been able to gain the abilities of the Champion and take over Parkour Civilization, there has been one thought lingering in the back of my mind. And that thought is the fighter layer.”
“The fighter layer was once the third layer, inbetween the pro and the masters. I’d say it was one of the most well developed layers, the people there had their own culture and beliefs, and differ from the rest of the layers. It was truly one of the most commendable layers to exist.”
“Unfortunately, when I was chained away in the fighter layer by the old champion, he had decided it’d be a good idea to remove it from Parkour Civilization entirely— and erase all memories of that layer from everyone’s head. Luckily, Evbo had managed to resist the erasure’s effects by drinking a resistance potion, and found a fighter who did the same thing.”
“This journal will serve as research and notes about how to bring the layer back into civilization. In both to spite that old man, and test the power limits of a champion.”
..He stopped reading for a bit, staring at the page. He felt uneasy. What did he mean, an entire layer was just erased from the history of parkour civilization, and only few manage to remember its existence? Why’d the old champion do that, just to seal away his worst enemy?
Before EMF could read any further, his ears perked up. Footsteps. Someone was coming from below. Scrambling to pick a place to hide— he dropped the book and ran to hide behind one of the pillars across the room.
..What, did you think he’d hide behind a plant? That’s see through, anyone with eyes would notice a dark figure standing there. He isn’t dumb.
Peeking his head out, his heart practically dropped in fear, recognizing who had just arrived here. The Champion’s right hand man— the parkour villain’s son— Evbo. His entire body tensed up, fur standing up as he shuffled to be more out of sight. And— oh my PARKOUR, he dropped the journal, he was totally gonna notice that and realize someone had been here!
The man was stretching— the bells attached to his tailcoat, ( was it one?? he wasn’t really wearing a coat, it was attached to his hoodie— or clown shirt? he couldn’t tell, his outfit was suuuper confusing. ) wrists and ankles jingled as he did so. EMF had noticed that.. he wasn’t wearing his mask? It was hanging on the side, held by a strap around his head. Then he noticed the journal. EMF instinctively ducked further more behind the pillar. He was so screwed, wasn’t he?
Evbo had picked up the journal off the floor, curiously tilted his head, and placed it back where it was. Turning around to the screen, he seemed to be distracted— maybe EMF could use that as a chance to sneak out of here— but how? The only exit was the glass panels staircase, and you’d bet it’d be obvious if someone jumped down, there was a good chance he would just hurt himself trying.
Maybe he could wait it out? Let the jester leave first, and then he’ll leave after! He just had to hope that he’d leave sooner rather then later because EMF would rather not accidentally fall asleep here in hiding. Not their fault they’re sleep deprived.
“You know you can come out, I saw you earlier.”
..oh.
EMF blinked. It took a second for them to process that Evbo was staring directly at them. Panic arose— but what were they supposed to do, book it for the exit? He’s right next to it! They’d bet that they wouldn’t even manage to make it all the way down, let alone get out of the building! And there is no way you could make them jump out of the building. No way.
So, with hesitation— EMF steps out of his hiding spot and approaches the jester— but staying at a distance. Not too close, but a bit farther than halfway. They swallow. Evbo fully turns to face EMF. And he stares.
They don’t say or do anything, nervously clutching their hands together. They were going to die here, weren’t they? The jester was going to say some words, challenges EMF to a parkour race— and they wouldn’t even be able to make it halfway. Oh Parkour, this was it, the end of their miserable life- with a pointless adventure. Even if they got far, they didn’t exactly have a set plan.
What, were they just gonna magically ask the champion to fight them in a parkour battle? Like hell they were. They wouldn’t win anyway. The only reason they’ve got this far was because of pure, sheer dumb luck, and they were just waiting for that luck to run out, and they knew it would— it would have to one day, right? Right?
“..You’re younger than I thought.”
EMF blinks. Right. They were in a room with the champion’s right hand man staring them down. God, they gotta focus. They look away from the floor and look up, not directly at Evbo but just.. making it seem like they were. “How old are you?”
..They don’t say anything for a second. And for a second, they almost forgot they weren’t 14 anymore. “..15,” they muttered out, a low tone. He tilts his head towards the left, like a curious bird, they remark.
“Jeeeeeeez you’re young. And you went from noob to master in like, what a few weeks?” Evbo pockets his hands, walking closer to EMF as he inspects them closer. They shuffle around, trying to keep a good enough distance. “..you know me?”
“Course I know you, everyone around knows you. It’s suupper rare for people to rank up at all— let alone a noob! And I’m curious, EMF,” They flinch a bit when he says their nickname. They swapped sides now, and they’re slowly backing away from him as he takes slow steps forward, like an animal circling prey.
“Why’d you go through all the effort? You could’ve just stayed as a pro and gone on with your life, but you climbed up the ranks. And nobody ever does that just because, so.. why?” Even without the mask on, EMF was startled by his facial expressions— they felt uncanny, for a human being. Then, they thought about his question, and a memory came flying by.
They were on a single block, in the middle of the void. Quiet. They didn’t feel freaked out or stressed, but they felt.. oddly calm. At peace here. Then, the wind circled around them, and a voice echoes.
“████████████████. I’ve chosen you to be my messiah of this world. Make your way to the champion, and fulfill what you must do. Save the world, save everyone. That is your destiny of this world. That is the mission bestowed upon you, from the Parkour God.”
And the wind cups their cheeks, held their hands, and passes by. Then they woke up.
. . They never really got to ask why. Snapping back to the present, they mumble out. “You don’t need to know my reasons.” That inquires a curious hum from Evbo. “..The journal,” they started, voice trying to be louder then their mumbled and mutters. “The Champion spoke of a layer that got erased by the old ch.. ol- old man. Is that true?”
Evbo stands fully straight, and it’s here that EMF noticed just how tall he was. He stares down at them for a moment, before off to the side. “..Yeah. There was. Nobody expect us three remember it now. An entire layer and its people massacred, for nothing. Quiteee unfortunate, right?” They don’t say anything, and he keeps talking.
“Old bastard didn’t even know what he was doing. He just wanted Father out without getting his hands dirty, but ended up covering them in hundreds of players blood. Didn’t even get the job done either.”
“..What do you mean by that?”
“The fighter layer isn’t completely gone— it’s just, hidden away. We managed to find Father that way and set him free. I don’t think during his entire time as a champion, the old man never once did something right.”
The jester’s voice was sharp- bitter, for what happened, EMF could tell. They were getting nervous. They knew too much. They took a step back, and eyed behind them. The exit was right there. Could they even run away in time? They weren’t sure, but it’s a risk they’re willing to take—
“Ah, well. He’s gone now, so who cares? Besides, we’re running outta time.”
EMF looks back. Evbo had something in his hands. “Sorry, kid. Can’t keep the champion waiting.” EMF couldn’t even think to do or say anything as Evbo placed down two— brewing stands? He got on one of them and jumped on the other- and EMF began to stumble.
Their limbs felt slack and heavy, and their vision began to blur out. They realized he must’ve put some sort of effect— and tried to make a dash for the exit, but their legs were simply just, not moving as fast as they wanted them to be! Then— they trip, falling on the hard floor, hitting their head. A figure stands over them, mumbling something as their attempts to stay conscious proves futile, vision fading off to black.