Chapter Text
Wemmbu felt like he should be fighting.
Killing.
Proving himself.
Doing something that made sense for someone like him.
That’s what people expected, anyway. Blood on his hands, explosions happening with a flick of a rod, wars starting just from a comment. lady Death was always there, looming over him with a soft smile.
He was an Enderdragon hybrid. He was destruction. Chaos. A weapon that shouldnt have emotions.
That was the story everyone told themselves.
He clenched his claws, flexing them slowly, staring down at the faint scars that never really faded. He should want to use them. He should want to feel the rush again — the heat, the adrenaline, the power that came with being feared.
Something Mane would want.
Someone Mane would be proud of.
But all he felt was tired.
The idea of blood on his hands made his chest feel tight, not excited. Not righteous. Just heavy. Like the blood was never really his choice — just something demanded of him by the world. By the expectations stacked on his shoulders until he could barely stand.
When he faked his death, he thought it would be freedom.
A clean slate.
A chance to exist without a kill count attached to his name.
And yet almost immediately, he was dragged into another war. Hunted. Cornered. Forced to reveal who he was just to survive. His identity torn back open like a wound that hadn’t healed properly.
That was when it finally clicked.
The violence would always follow him.
It didn’t matter how far he ran or how hard he tried to change. To the world, he would always be a killer first and a person second.
When Mane left, it felt like the last thread tying him to that old world snapped. Everything he had been, everything he was supposed to become, went up in flames. Expectations, teachings, futures — all burned down to ash.
And part of him wished he had burned with it.
He wished he was still naive. Still that kid who barely understood the overworld after years trapped in the End. Back when the sky felt too big and the grass felt wrong under his feet, but he didn’t yet know what war really cost.
Now all he knew was violence and regret.
If he had just given Mane the mace.
If he had just listened.
If he had just been better.
Maybe he wouldn’t feel so crushed by the weight of everything people expected him to be.
“Okay, bro,” Egg said suddenly, breaking the silence, “are you aura farming or having, like, a full cinematic tragic backstory moment?”
Wemmbu stopped walking and glared at him.
“Bro,” he muttered, kicking at the sand beneath his feet, “let me be emo.”
Egg snorted. “Nah, you’re already emo. Unless you’re trying to unlock a whole new tier.”
Wemmbu huffed despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet,” Egg said smugly, spreading his wings a little, “you keep me around.”
Wemmbu caught up to him, walking shoulder to shoulder now. It felt… easier. Ever since the other day, after everything spilled out and Egg hadn’t left — hadn’t even considered it — something inside him had settled.
He still hadn’t accepted Mane leaving. Probably never would. But at least now he knew he wasn’t alone with it.
Egg bumped his shoulder lightly. “You’ve been quiet again. That’s usually when the universe is about to emotionally body slam you.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“I’m serious,” Egg said, glancing over. “You don’t go quiet unless something’s eating you alive.”
Wemmbu hesitated. “I was just… thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime.”
“About expectations,” he admitted. “About what people think I’m supposed to be.”
Egg hummed. “Ah. The ‘walking apocalypse’ brand image.”
Wemmbu let out a dry laugh. “Yeah. That.”
They walked for a bit in silence, the sand crunching softly beneath their feet.
“I wonder sometimes,” Wemmbu said quietly, “if the news of my death ever reached Mane.”
Egg slowed, just slightly. “You think about that a lot.”
“Too much,” Wemmbu admitted. “I keep imagining he denied it. That he convinced himself it wasn’t real. Like Flame did.”
He swallowed. “But… I don’t actually know. And I never will.”
Egg didn’t interrupt.
“Because he left,” Wemmbu continued. “He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back. So I know the truth, even if I don’t want to.”
He laughed softly, hollow. “He wouldn’t have cared.”
Egg stopped walking.
Wemmbu noticed a second too late. “Egg”
“Hey,” Egg said gently, turning to face him. “That’s not something you know. That’s something your brain tells you when it’s being cruel.”
“It feels real.”
“I know,” Egg said. “That doesn’t mean it is.”
Wemmbu looked away, jaw tight. Egg sighed and started walking again, clearly choosing not to push, but staying close.
“Dude,” Egg complained a moment later, dramatically fanning himself with one wing, “it is way too warm out here. I miss the End.” an effective way to shift the conversation away from the topic as the grew closer to the bustiest area’s of the market.
“The End is nicer,” Wemmbu agreed automatically, it was his home dimension, he would always prefer it.
“Yeah, but also incredibly boring.”
He smiled faintly. The sand beneath their feet slowly shifted into cobblestone as Ranger Point came into view.
“How does Jaden survive this heat,” Egg whined, his wings fluffing up in protest as the humidity clung to his feathers.
Wemmbu glanced over and snorted. “You look like a puffed-up peacock.”
“Oh shut up,” Egg shot back. “Some of us don’t have scales. Mr. ‘I’m always temperature regulated.’”
Wemmbu laughed properly this time, the sound surprising even himself. He rustled his wings in mock offense. “Maybe I’m just the superior being.”
“The second this law stuff is over,” Egg grumbled, “we’re moving somewhere dry. Or cold. Or both.”
Wemmbu let the ocean sounds wash over him as they fell into a comfortable silence. Ranger Point always felt… lighter. Like a chapter of his life that didn’t demand blood.
Jaden hadn’t expected him to be a monster. Hadn’t asked him to kill. It had just been a stupid scavenger hunt. Laughing. Running around. Existing without a death toll.
He appreciated Jaden for that.
And yet… he resented him too.
Rejoice.
The name alone still hurt.
Rejoice hadn’t expected anything from him except friendship. No prophecy. No violence. No legacy of war. Just someone new to talk to, someone who didn’t look at him like a ticking bomb.
And of course, that had been taken from him too.
Because death always followed.
“Hey,” Egg said quietly, nudging him. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Carrying the entire world like it’s your responsibility.”
Wemmbu sighed. “It feels like it is.”
Egg stopped and turned fully toward him this time. “Listen to me. You’re not chaos incarnate. You’re not a curse. You’re just… you.”
He smiled softly. “But I expect my brother to keep walking and complain about the heat with me.”
Wemmbu’s throat tightened. ignoring how egg called him his brother, ignoring the warm fuzzy feeling of family. “…You really don’t see me like that?”
Egg scoffed. “If I thought you were just death and war, do you really think I’d let you walk this close to me?”
Wemmbu let out a shaky laugh.
“Come on,” Egg said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get inside before I melt, and tell jaden i want an ice lolly”
And for once, the expectations felt nonexistent.