Chapter Text
Don’t move. Be still.
The guard currently posted outside of his cell was humming and chewing thoughtfully. Each sound echoed off the dingy passageway's cavernous walls, adding to the dim peals of laughter and clanking of armor.
Beef stew.
Evbo watched through the cracked door. The guards had started to trust he wouldn’t attack them anymore. His reward was light–sweet, sweet light, to fill his room. They tended to leave the gate open during what they considered daytime, (though that didn’t matter very much to Evbo), and it gave him some sense of time.
That sense of time counted over 2 weeks since Raymond had last visited.
And it had been a very, very, long two weeks.
He had run out of the candies unsurprisingly quickly for someone who hadn’t been eating enough. Then the carrots and root beets returned, gross and monotonous, once a day. Nevertheless, he’d choke it down. Better than nothing at all.
Sitting still, sitting very still, was a way to keep the rumbling away. Expend no energy. Lay while you’re killed, lay in your bed until the guards bang on your door, trudge down their stuffy passageways, then lay in your cell. Sorry–sorry, apartment. Lay in your apartment.
The wall was blurring. Having the room not be fully dark helped the pictures be clearer. Clear as day, he made shapes. Patterns. A video journal. His bed. Tabi.
Raymond.
It's all about the mindset, he repeated. If you don’t think about it, it stops existing. A very useful philosophy when everything that exists currently is hurt and hunger.
That’s not how that works. And also really sad, dude. The wall echoed back.
You try being trapped here for a month, Raymond, he thought bitterly.
…Sorry. He didn’t mean that. The dripping had stopped. The door was cracked open. He’d had a cherry gummy for the first time. He was grateful. Really, truly, he was.
The stone shifted, its expression nonchalant. It’ll put a hold on your progress, that’s for sure, it mimicked.
An escape plan. Evbo wondered about its progress. How much longer would it take? How much longer could he take? How long was forever? Would they really keep him here forever? Forever felt like a very, very long time.
It is, the rocks adjusted. Smug.
Evbo stared into the grey, unfocused, stony replica of Raymond.
“Be quiet,” he muttered aloud, sluggish and barely audible.
He heard the guard’s breath from outside hitch. Pause. Listen. Then after a moment, go back to their meal.
Their meal. Food. His stomach grumbled, and he squirmed into a different position.
The pebbles grimaced. How long’s that been happening?
Evbo didn’t dignify that with a response. All he did was glare. At the wall. Oh my god, Evbo. You’re talking to the wall. He shifted slightly and let the hurt settle into the back of his stomach.
Maybe it was best to just lay here. Even if Raymond came running in right now, would he be able to get up? He wants to stand. To jump, to fight, to slash. But to do any of those things, he needed energy. And there was a severe lack of that currently. To give up wouldn’t be so bad, right? Someone else could progress through PVP Civilization. Get a new chosen one, God.
I guess that makes sense, the wall hummed. The ‘giving up’ part was left unsaid, but Evbo got the message.
“Shut up.” This wall was starting to piss him off.
Footsteps shuffled from down the hallway, three sets echoing across the space. Another player. Another respawn.
‘One-and-done,’ it whispered. Taunting.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the grinding of stones cut him off. A shadow was cast over him, the silhouette of another sword player. They looked nervous. Must be their first time. Huh. The player tossed their gaze at him, then up at the guards. The two guards nodded shortly, and the player took a slow, hesitant step forward down to Evbo.
He continued to lay slackly on the ground, the only form of acknowledgment was the gentle drift of his eyes to meet theirs.
They crouched down and unsheathed their sword. It looked battered and worn, and the person looked so, so young. Maybe a year or two younger than Evbo. Their breathing was shaky, but their eyes were focused and calm. They opened their mouth to speak.
“What way’s the quickest?” Their voice quivered, barely above a whisper.
Oh? Evbo wheezed a small laugh. How kind. How forgiving, for someone who’s about to kill him. He's not complaining–maybe this guy deserves the sword.
The person’s eyes widened at the scoff.
He reached an unsteady hand up to touch his neck. His throat.
They nodded quickly.
Then there was a cold, metal blade pressed up against his neck. It sent a little shock through his body. He was subconsciously thankful for the feeling of touch. Everything had been so… numb as of late. And chilly.
He felt it break his skin, and there was a second of apprehension–before it fully committed, slicing a thin yet deep line across his neck. And then it wasn’t so cold anymore, it was actually quite warm. The blood sent a mild heat across his skin. Sure, it hurt. It always did. But at least the hurt wasn’t hunger.
The taste of metal filled his mouth, and Evbo lay his head back, gaze landing on the ceiling. The stony, grey, cold ceiling. It moved, morphing its shape slightly, before settling back.
This one’s my favorite flavor, it hissed.
See ya.
And then the world was dark.
Raymond trudged through the passageway, a smoky torch aglow beside him. He coughed slightly every few steps, and half-wished he could see in the dark, and throw away this stupid light.
He had managed to, after a lot of convincing and bargaining, acquire a regular assignment of guarding the chosen one.
At first, people were clamoring to get that assignment. Get a glimpse at the savoir, the hero, the immortal, whatever. But as the weeks passed, and Evbo became more, well… Evbo, everyone started to adjust to a new normal. A new normal of long, healthy lives. Stuck down here. Which made Raymond feel a little sick, to be honest.
Something deep in his gut told him this was kind of screwed up—just a little. It was partly true, what all the other guards and players said; The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and all that crap. His life couldn’t be more valuable than a hundred, two hundred, many hundreds of players. Evbos… respawns were helping lots of people. But that wasn’t permanently helping everyone. If everybody got comfortable, right here, with infinite durability and infinite time, how would they progress? Reach for something greater? Greater than whatever the hell PVP civilization even was?
Something even deeper in his gut told him there was more. More to life than just fighting, blocking, eating, surviving. Evbo might be able to discover that.
Which is why Evbo needed to escape. And Raymond, curious and begrudgingly helpful, needed to escape this place too.
So it was a good decision to be taking this risk. Just for the development of society. Not for Evbo, of course.
He rounded a corner, and the cell came into view.
The previous guard, one who he couldn't quite remember the name of, nodded at him as he approached. Raymond gave a curt nod back. The guard opposing him stood and collected their stuff, hefting up their shield and addressing Raymond.
“Just a heads-up,” they said, brushing past him. “The guy’s been acting a little crazy. Talking to himself, and whatnot. If he gets too weird, just close the door, ‘kay?”
And with that, they were gone, off to a different station.
Raymond waited until he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore before shuffling up to the small opening. He peaked through, getting a glimpse of a very zoney Evbo, staring at the wall. Did he even notice he was here?
“Uh… Evbo?”
He slowly blinked, pulling his eyes away from the wall to lazily glare at Raymond. “Whhuh?”
“Hey there,” Raymond prodded, adjusting his voice a little quieter. Normally he’d comment about how glassy-eyed Evbo looked, his messy hair, or his smudged face. But Evbo did not look very normal right now, so… maybe he could be a little softer.
Evbo stared at him for a few moments, before dragging his eyes back to the stone. He looked… confused? His gaze drifted back and forth for a second.
“Are you real? Or the wall?”
Raymond laughed and raised an eyebrow. When Evbo didn’t elaborate further, and instead continued to stare languidly into the stone, the eyebrow shifted into a worried tilt. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” Evbo said. To the wall, not Raymond.
The guard squinted at him. “You’re delirious.”
“I’m delicious?”
“No– what? No! You’re delirious.”
“Delightful?”
“Delirious!”
Evbo processed. Slower than usual, Raymond noted.
“...Deliberate… ous?”
Raymond sighed, sitting down next to him. So much for being softer. “I thought it’d be good to bring some real food this time.” He produced a small tin from his pocket and lifted the lid.
It opened to reveal a humble meal. Some sliced steak, a hard-boiled egg, some bread, and a few apple slices. It wasn’t anything extravagant, honestly, it was the leftovers from the cafeteria–but it was still a sizeable portion. Evbo looked at it like he had just pulled out a three-course meal. That was no surprise, Raymond had seen what ‘food’ the guards had been giving him. You could barely even call it food.
“Seems like that was a good call,” he added when Evbo sluggishly shifted closer.
Evbo stared at him. Then the tin, the wall, the tin again, then back up at him.
“...you’re real?”
“...Yes? What's your problem?”
“You’ve been gone… for, like…” Evbo started to count on his fingers before pausing, thinking, then giving up and letting his hands slump back down, “...ever.”
Raymond felt a twang of guilt in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. There was a bit of competition.”
“Competition? I’m just that cool,” he chuckled, slurring his words.
An eye roll. “Uh-huh.”
Evbo nodded slowly, still giggling.
Man, this guy was really out of it.
He looked back down to the box. Raymond offered it to him.
“How did yuknow I was hungry?”
“...An educated guess.”
Evbo took the box in his own hands, tucking his knees up to his chest. He stared at the food as if it was going to disappear right in front of him. Raymond noted he was also avoiding eye contact, which he usually initiated, even when he couldn’t see Raymond’s eyes. The silence was heavy, and Raymond satisfyingly noticed the lack of dripping. He did fix it.
Evbo smacked his lips. “Did you bring any more candy?”
Now that was a question Raymond had been anticipating. He laughed a bit, and tilted his head, “You gotta eat your real food first.”
The player looked at him vacantly, and without another moment of hesitation, snatched up a slice of apple. He tossed the whole thing in his mouth–taking barely a few seconds to chew–before grabbing up another and doing the same. This was rise-and-repeat until all the chunks were gone. The guard watched in mild amazement.
Evbo chewed in silence for a minute or two, seeming to savor it more and more with each bite. Raymond could see the fog in his mind clear as he finally got some real energy in his body.
Picking up one of the rolls of bread, he stared. A slow nibble, then looked over to Raymond.
“Thank you.”
Raymond scoffed in a lighthearted manner. “Took you long enough–I was waiting for that.”
Evbo raised his eyebrows. The guard watched as he really woke up from his haze with a small, familiar, Evbo-like grin.
“Hey, cut me some slack!” He took a big bite of the bread, “You’ve never been stuck in a cell like this before. I can’t video journal, can’t swing my sword, can’t even… I don't even have the pool from my mansion.” Evbo shot back with a smile, mouth full.
“Sounds super rough, dude,” Raymond taunted, lacking any real sympathy. The real sympathy was directed at the fact he left out the lack of healthy meals. “I think I deserve a second thank-you, actually.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, man. I had to stay a whole extra ten minutes to get that plate of food. And also, yknow, risk getting caught sneaking you around, with the consequence being thrown in jail myself,” he gestured down to the tin. “That’s some high-quality steak you’ve got, by the way.”
“Hmm.” Evbo picked up a slice of steak, pouting his lip. “This looks a little overcooked.”
Raymond squinted at him playfully from behind his shades. “Eat your food.”
Evbo obeyed with a little laugh, shoving the sliced beef in his mouth.
They continued into a quiet conversation. This wasn’t so bad. The player looked a little happier than he did when Raymond had first walked in. He was smiling, laughing, a bit more energetic. That wasn’t his main goal, to make Evbo happy, no–that was stupid. It was just–yknow, he needs the extra energy to make progress. And if Raymond can in any way, any possible way, help the effort to get out of here, that's what he was going to do. All the extra stuff: friends, candy, feelings– that was just excess.
Actually, speaking of progress.
“I think I’ve worked out a system. Now that I’ve got this assignment regularly, you have some extra time to keep trying at the gold level. I can let you back in and out whenever you respawn, and in the best-case scenario, nobody will even notice you’re gone,” he explained as Evbo chewed thoughtfully on his last piece of steak. “That is–if you don’t take forever trying to land the jump.”
Evbo swallowed, nodding his head. “Sounds like that could… actually work. And, also–the jump is literally impossible!”
“Well, this system can give you time to figure it out. Or fix your skill issue.”
Evbo gaped and made a sound of mock-hurt. He put a hand to his chest and extended his other out toward Raymond.
The guard looked at it. “What?”
He gestured his hand out a bit further.
“What?”
“You hurt my feelings. I expect candy as compensation.”
Raymond blinked, then sighed. “You’re stupid.” He reached into his pocket and produced a new, crinkled-up bag. The packaging was similar to the last, shiny and strange, with no distinct labels.
Evbo snatched it up with a laugh of victory. He ripped it in the same way that Raymond had done it last time, and dropped a couple onto his palm. The guard watched as he investigated them, checking to see what made them different from last time.
“Same shape, same colors, same flavors?” He looked a little confused, but not disappointed.
Raymond chuckled. “Maybe not exactly the same flavors.” This was gonna be funny.
Evbo squinted in curious suspicion, and slowly placed one on his tongue. A few seconds of silence, and… nothing.
The guard frowned. Maybe they weren’t as sour as he thought they were–
The player made a sudden noise of surprise. Then confusion, a moment to settle, and finally a squeal of displeasure.
“Uueeghhh…” His face scrunched, smacking his lips. “What is thaaat?”
Raymond stifled a laugh as Evbo bit his cheek. “It’s candy, dude. Obviously.”
“This is not candy! Did you poison me?”
The guard let his laugh go, and it bubbled up as Evbo looked at him with dismay. “No, no–I didn’t poison you. It's just a sour coating. Just–just give it a second.”
Evbo looked on the verge to spit it out, but eventually complied, and let it sit for a moment. His disgruntled face slowly started to fade. Raymond saw him push it around in his mouth, tasting it fully again.
“...It’s sweet.”
Raymond bobbed his head, still laughing.
“That’s stupid.”
“It was good though, wasn’t it?”
Evbo paused, then bobbed his head the same way the guard had done, with a little more reluctance.
“Good,” Raymond stated, satisfied his plan had worked. He ate a gumdrop of his own, a licorice one, feeling the sourness sizzle on his tongue.
They both munched quietly for a few minutes.
The cell was still super dingy, and cramped, and there wasn’t nearly enough light in there to see much of anything. Raymond wondered if next time he should bring some torches for Evbo to use. When it was night.
…
“Thank you.”
Ah, yes. His second thank-you. Raymond took another two candies, handing one of them over to Evbo.
“It’s no big deal.”
The player nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
This wasn’t so bad. It’s way better than most of his other assignments. And once Evbo respawns again, there’ll be another chance for him to advance, which means another step toward getting out of here. As much as he hated to say it, all this stuff was starting to make him feel… yknow–hopeful. There wasn’t a lot of that down here. It’s not like he’s never hoped for anything before. He’s hoped that he’d get promoted, that he’d get a hefty tip every once and a while, (and something that the guard would never admit), that he’d find a friend. Evbo had delivered on most of those. Who’s to say he wouldn’t grant another one of Raymond’s hopes?
Hopefully, Evbo finds a successful way down. A successful way out.
Hopefully.