Chapter Text
“S-so this is it, huh?”
Around him, the figures of his friends faded, swallowed by the dark void. Faintly, he sees Taph in Dusekkar’s arms, sobbing in relief that they were finally leaving this hell; faintly, he sees Azure clutching a half-alive Two Time’s hands in his own, whispering in the younger’s ear as they embraced the light; faintly, he sees Builderman looking around, confused and alert, Shedletsky behind him still staring blankly at his hands, flexing them, like he didn’t believe those were his own flesh and blood.
“Maybe it is,” that same disembodied voice answered, voice a hum of mixed content and…possibly irritation? Shedletsky had forced the code open so that they may leave; Noli had helped too, and none have seen him since. “Maybe it isn’t, my friend. It is up to you, no?”
coolkidd was nowhere to be seen. Even as he looked around, the child was nowhere to be seen.
“…I don’t want to go back.”
It makes a sound akin to a laugh and a chortle. “Implore me, exploiter. Why?”
“There isn’t anything for me to go back to.” Seven dug his nails into his arm. As much as he didn’t want to believe such thing, with Noli gone he practically has…nothing. After all the god was the one who paid for most of the things he used to had, before they were forsakened. What he used to own were all practically the god’s, and he had barely any to his name. “I don’t have anything left.”
It never revealed its form, even now as they’ve torn its realm to near shreds. “My question,” he doesn’t need to see its form to tell its grinning, wide. “Is that all?”
“What more do you want from me, Spectre? I don’t even have a house anymore. I’m only asking for…a place to stay, maybe here.”
He’s made some wrong choices before. Definitely.
Staring at the clock on the nightstand, at the second hand ticking slowly clockwise in this rhythmic tick, tick sound. It’s a familiar sound, too familiar to the clock of that place; but it’s just a clock. It’s just a clock, and he’s not being chased to the other corners of the Banlands by Heights know who.
Head keeps flitting over the same damn thoughts. Who’s going to be killer next? It’d go, like it always had. Has he had enough rest, enough for his legs to start running and sprinting the second that damned timer starts?
He’ll never know. He never got to find out; usually he’s killed first, for…being a survivalist, he supposed. Whatever that term’s even supposed to mean, besides putting a big fat target on his back right next to Elliot and Azure’s and Vee’s for being the first to go, because no one’d win if he was left for last.
Tick, tick.
His eyes remained glued to the clock, to its ever-rhythmic ticking.
Why?
Why, why, why, why.
Spectre probably wouldn’t agree. Something about resurrection being the ending everyone receives in this hell.
Honestly, he doesn’t deserve resurrection. They could save those for people like…those two cultists, maybe. Their whole religion’s on that damn spawn symbol and the concept of resurrection. He…
What does he even have to return to, after he comes back alive? Coolkidd, maybe, but that was it.
Coolkidd. Right.
He does have a reason, maybe. To…get back at all the things he’s failed to do as a parent in his past life. To spend time with coolkidd, to be with him as he grows, matures like a true parent.
To break him away from those accusations, to drive away anyone’s negative opinions on the boy, with a man like him as his parent. Because…that’s what made the kid all bitter and vengeful in the first place. That’s what made him so hateful, for all he’s done, for all he’s become.
Can he blame the kid?
Maybe not. It’s his fault for getting into exploiting, following Noli’s footsteps in the first place.
He can’t blame the kid for burning anything down, because he learnt it from him.
A shit parent he is.
He sighed, plopping down on the bed. It’s soft, not the most comfortable but still enough for someone like him living off Builder’s subsidies and loans, off Shed’s generosity and…the occasional wiring of a few hundred Robux by maybe 1x, if she’s feeling fine.
Granted, he doesn’t own this place. It’s still enough for now, given the fact that he probably won’t be able to pay any rent at all, when he runs his last savings dry.
Where’s coolkidd? Downstairs?
Maybe, downstairs. Or his room, for the time being. Probably playing video games, if he had to guess.
“Here? In my purgatory, exploiter?”
Well, he isn’t too sure. At the very least there’s…free electricity, water and maybe food, sometimes. The god’s domain has…everything one needs for survival, and for someone who’s been stuck here for…how long? Two years? Three?
Coolkidd’s…thirteen, maybe, counting on his fingers, even though he doesn’t look like he’s grown much. He still looks ten, like he hasn’t grown a single inch since they got here.
He still remembers the day he got here. Coolkidd, sitting by the fireplace, far away from a disgruntled Elliot and a mildly amused 1x. They’d avoided each other for quite the good while in the first few rounds, coolkidd always ending up murdering him first in his rounds, and…Sev personally hasn’t been in any rounds during that period of time. He never understood why coolkidd never seemed to want to get close with Elliot, even going as far as to avoid conversation entirely during and outside rounds, opting to ask their other healer for things despite Elliot actively trying to approach the child.
He still remembers the day he left. Coolkidd, at the threshold of the door, anger-fuelled tears streaming down his face as he spilled his swears, profanities and insults at what a disgrace of a parent he is. A slam of the very same door that never opened again to reveal the child, not until guilt had overridden all sense and reason, and he had taken the chair before Noli could come back from his fruitless search for the child, taken the rope before the god could come back and stop him from doing anything foolish.
Because the god had found the child’s mangled body. And he was a coward for not wanting to face the truth.
Suppose the two-three years were…good, for him, because at least he doesn’t have to worry about going homeless every other day. Everyone may hate his guts, but they got over it soon, and isolation isn’t really the best way to treat the man considering how useful his abilities are sometimes.
It was the same for coolkidd. The same scorn, the same avoidance. But he’s a kid, after all.
They got over it soon.
And in this hell, at least he had…friends. Besides Noli, of course. He’d met Guest, a man from the military or so he claimed. Might as well believe him for how well he handles these rounds from hell. He’d met 1x, Noob, and all their friends, who weren’t even the slightest afraid of someone like him. He’d met Two, and gotten somewhat close to them despite the odd looks he’d get from their…significant other. He doesn’t understand, but he guessed it was jealousy, even though the healer had friends of his own.
“They’ll all leave you. The admins, the demigods, your so-called friends. They’ve chosen resurrection, n7. My realm will be empty once more, deserted. I will be its only occupant onwards until She condemns another.”
She? Who’s She? Another deity, perhaps? For all he knew, this world only had…two gods. Telamon and Noli, until the day he was forsakened twisted his worldview entirely. There were four gods now to his knowledge, and near everyone in that damned realm had some…relation to these four deities.
“Accept it. Accept Her gift; resurrection is what gives a new start, a new opportunity. With all you’ve…learnt, with all you’ve met here, you can rebuild your life, rebuild your relations.”
Will it work? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think so.
How little faith he has in himself.
“Will…coolkidd take this path?” He asked, looking up, eyes uselessly searching for the Spectre. Eyes uselessly searching, knowing damn well he will not find the formless god.
A chuckle rumbles through the blank void. “He will, I’m sure. He wants to right his life, to correct all the things he’s done.” It hummed. “To live a right life, under the wing of a parent. And he needs your help, your guidance. The guidance of a parent.”
Hmph. Coolkidd doesn’t need him.
He doesn't think so. It’s not like he’s any good either; a useless father.
The Spectre lied. He should’ve just stayed in that hell.
He couldn’t bear to leave his child’s side.
Fool. He’s a fool. It simply isn’t possible for one to have their cake and eat it as well.
“Is…is this really it?”
Spectre snorted. “To your life? No, not by a long shot. We’ll see again, someday, some way.” He could hear the grin in its voice as it spoke. He…doesn’t know if it’s possible to be condemned again, or what they describe this as. Though he would avoid it, if he could. Anything but those…endless rounds.
Maybe that was what finally made him say yes.
“How? I thought you were a god of…” secrets. It was a god of uncertainty, nothing he knew of. It was just like a stranger to him, someone foreign. No one he’ll ever understand. Besides, it had no form; unless it wished to talk to him telepathically, then there wouldn’t be any way he’d meet the deity.
“Workarounds, workarounds. Nothing I can’t exploit the loopholes of.” Spectre said, nonchalant. “Now run along, little exploiter. Don’t keep Her waiting.”
He doesn’t want to know who “She” is.
He summoned his coolgui. Unaltered, still all the same as before. All his exploits, his life’s work on such a small little device.
It ruined so much of his life, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let it go. It was what doomed him in the end, what turned coolkidd into the child he is now, and perhaps…what brought Elliot to Spectre’s hell as well.
It was too, his life’s work.
He flits through its different settings, searching for the…group chat the others had created. Builderman had convinced all of them, admins and mortals alike to join it as a way to stay in touch, to inform each other whenever something bad happens. He personally wasn’t too big of a fan of…communications like these, in general, since he and Noli often could just. Directly contact each other through their guis. Why the god needed a gui, he isn’t sure himself but he never questioned the other.
He finally found the thing. Opened it, and was hit in the face by an argument between the admins, the two Doe siblings unfortunately caught in the crossfire as their parent yelled over text at Shedletsky.
He couldn’t help but…smile. Just a little. It was nice seeing how everyone seemed to have gotten together nicely, the past just a speck in the distance, behind a bright future of change and opportunities. He could…care less about what they’re talking about, to be fair. He just wanted to see, to see what they’re doing.
Something about…new policies. The usual. Builderman’s always working on policies. Something about stopping the Spectre, something about anti-exploits. More patches. A new invention.
None of his business. Well, maybe except the whole anti-exploit thing.
He sighed. Continued to watch them bicker.
“Hello.”
This voice is far softer than Spectre’s. Far more feminine as well.
“Hello?” He called back. The void is still…mostly empty. It’s black now, pitch black like ink spilled over a canvas, starless, featureless. Just a mass expanse of black.
“You were one of the last.” She smiled. “How strange. Your friends have already left.” He could tell She, whoever She was, was smiling. Yet despite the present softness, despite the gentleness, he knows She was…a force, similar to Spectre’s. Not to be trifled with.
He pushed down a gulp. “I know.” He doesn’t. But he would’ve presumed that they’ve all left the void a long time ago, revived and well and back to Robloxia. He hopes.
“Hmm,” She paused, as if trying to study him from where…ever she was. He looked around again, but something beneath his feet took his attention instead. Looked down, and he’s met with a large glowing symbol seared into the ground underfoot, its light a bright white contrast to the black void around him. A circle with spikes, like a sun.
It’s a familiar symbol. Spawn’s holy symbol, he remembered Two Time’s words.
“Well, I can’t keep you here forever.” She continued, ignoring him. “So…are you ready?”
“Ready to return” goes unsaid. She’s asking him if he thinks he’s ready. He’s starting to like this deity.
Now or never.
“I…think I am.” He said slowly. “I think I am.” He didn’t want to address the deity by Her name. He knows now who She is, but…he doesn’t know if it’s respect or fear keeping him, but he doesn’t say Her name. “Y—yeah.”
A light chuckle. “You’re just like It’s little vessel. So unsure.” She said. “Very well. Close your eyes; it won’t hurt, 007n7.”
Its vessel?
Who the fuck is “Its vessel”??
He gets no replies before his vision floods blinding white, and the next thing he knows he’s half-sprawled on the ground of Robloxia Headquarters, the rest of the Forsakened groaning and slowly getting to their feet around him.
He grunted, sitting up. This is…new.
Knocking on the door. “Hey Sev!” A voice yelled. “Are you done or are you dead?”
He looked up from his coolgui, his hands waving the panels away in reflex. The panels flicker, then dissipate into sparks of red and black. It’s…his landlord, in a sense. He doesn’t know what to call them.
“Your kid’s already downstairs waiting for you,” continued calling, from the other side of the door. “You better stop sulking and get out here before Six hogs all the takeout.”
He went for the door handle, the contraption swinging open to reveal an…irritated Noob, hand raised in another half-knock, snowy-white wings raised behind them and effectively blocking off his entire exitway. “I’m not sulking,” Seven frowned.
They shrugged. “Might as well be,” they said. “Doesn’t matter. You comin’ to eat or not? Vee can only hold her off for so long.”
“...yeah,” he stepped out of the room, Noob shifting to a side to allow space for him to exit. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
“What were you doin’ in there anyways?”
He shook his head, dismissive. “Don’t…worry ‘bout it.”