Chapter Text
The void was endless like ever.
Parrot doesn't know how long he had been falling. All he remembered was seeing Theo welcoming him into his embrace.
It felt…almost empty.
There's no pain.
No exhaustion.
Just numb.
A dreadful kind of numb.
Isn't an afterlife filled with other souls?
So why is he alone?
And falling—?
Is he going to hell?
Was there hell?
Was there even an afterlife?
There were no answers.
Only the endless, freezing descent into nothing—until something violently pulled the cord.
A sharp—
An agonizing burst of heat slammed into his chest.
The numbness shattered into a million pieces.
The void violently tore open, spitting him back out into reality.
Parrot bolted upright with a violent, ragged gasp. His lungs burned as if he had just broken through the surface of deep water.
Sweat drenched his shirt, instantly turning icy against his skin in the coldness of night air.
His heart hammered frantically against his ribs like a wild—
Trapped animal.
Then suddenly—
A familiar voice surfaces.
"Whoa, hey! Easy, easy!”
Parrot flinched, scrambling backward on bed. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, locked onto the face looking down at him.
Dean.
It was Dean.
The amber firelight from the camp’s central blaze danced across Dean’s features.
Dean was alive.
Breathing.
Right here.
Right there.
"Hey, look at me. You're okay," The brunette said softly, reaching out a cautious, grounding hand. "You woke up screaming bloody murder, man. Did you have a nightmare?”
Parrot was speechless.
The contrast between the freezing, lonely void and the warm crackle of the campfire threw his brain into total chaos.
His eyes darted around wildly to find only three beds surrounding a dying campfire.
The third bed was empty.
Leaving only the canopy of stars to watch over it.
Before panic could seize him again, the bushes rustled loudly. Wifies burst into the clearing, holding a bundle of firewood, chest heaving from running.
"What happened?! I heard screaming—is everyone alright?!" Wifies demanded, putting in the woods inside his inventory before switching to a sword as he moved closer to his friends.
But Parrot wasn't listening to Wifies.
He was still staring at Dean, who was right in front of him, breathing and alive.
And eventually—
The fucking dam broke.
With an ungraceful, desperate lurch, Parrot threw himself forward, launching his arms around the taller child’s neck.
He clamped down so hard it almost knocked them both over into the dirt.
He didn't just cry; he broke completely apart.
Ugly.
Loud.
Pathetic—
Trembling sobs tore from his throat, a messy mix of gasps and embarrassing snorts as he buried his face into Dean’s shoulder.
He ruined the front of the brunette’s shirt with tears and snot, his fingers clawing into the fabric like a lifeline.
His wings instinctively wrapped around the tall child like a protective mother.
Dean froze in utter shock, arms hovering in the air for a second before slowly wrapping around the avian shaking back.
Across the fire, Wifies just stood there, jaw slightly slack, staring at the absolute mess of a human being their friend had just become.
"I've got you," Dean muttered, utterly bewildered but trying to comfort him. "I've got you, man. It's just a dream."
But Parrot only held on tighter.
Gradually, the violent racking of his shoulders slowed to a tremble. The ugly, breathless snorts quieted down into shallow, ragged breathing.
Realizing how tightly he was clinging, the avian slowly peeled himself away from Dean’s shoulder, wiping his face with the back of a dirty sleeve.
The silence settled back in, leaving only the sounds of fire crackling filling the background.
Wifies quietly stepped closer, putting away his sword as he sat down on the edge of the third bed, eyes heavy with concern.
Although confusion outweighed most of it.
"Dude... what's wrong, bro? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Parrot's voice croaked. It was hoarse, hollowed out by the lingering terror of the void.
He forced a weak, utterly unconvincing chuckle, staring down at his own trembling hands. "Just... a nightmare. A really stupid, vivid nightmare. Sorry for waking you guys up." He sniffled, trying to guard himself.
Dean and Wifies exchanged a long, heavy look across the firelight.
They knew damn well it wasn't just a nightmare.
You don't wake up suffocating, drenched in sweat, and crying until you choke over a regular bad dream.
They could feel the invisible wall their friend was suddenly putting up between them.
But looking at his pale, exhausted face, they knew pushing him for answers right now would only make him retreat further.
Dean reached out, giving Parrott's shoulder a firm, grounding squeeze.
"Fine," He said softly, letting him off the hook for now, though his eyes remained dead serious. "We won't force you to talk. But... you know you can trust us, right? Whatever it is, we're a team. We handle it together."
Trust us.
The words tasted like ash in Parrott's mind.
The irony of it nearly made him laugh out loud—a sick, twisted urge he had to swallow down.
They wanted him to trust them, but it was their choices—
Their future mistakes.
Their betrayals—
That would eventually lead to their horrific deaths.
They didn't mean to, of course.
They would do it out of love, or desperation, or foolish heroism. But the result would be the same.
Dead.
Cold.
Empty.
Embraced by the shameful coldness of death.
‘I need to fix this’, his brain chanted.
A frantic, looping rhythm.
Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal.
"Yeah," Parrot managed to force out a smile, his voice tight. "I know. Thanks, guys." He lay back down on his bed, turning his body away from the fire so they wouldn't see his face.
But he couldn't close his eyes.
Through the dark, he just stared at their silhouettes against the glowing embers. The affection he felt for them was so heavy it felt like physical grief.
He looked at them with a sad, desperate tenderness, memorizing the shape of their shoulders, the sound of their breathing—already resolving himself to do whatever terrible things it would take to rewrite their fates.
Putting grief aside, he should grasp the situation first.
It seemed like he turned back time.
As much as his brain denied that fact, his body could still feel the linger of warmth he was drowned in earlier.
And it felt—
Real.
Fulfilling.
A tint of faint pink flustered on his face, his heart still doesn't stabilize yet.
Oh how long has it been since he last embraced others?
He couldn't remember—only the thought of a cold cell and windy night filled his mind, making him tremble.
And soon enough a blanket was placed over him, making him flinch in surprise.
His eyes met with Dean's, who was also bewildered by Parrot's sudden reflex.
“Ah—I’m sorry! I didn't mean—I just!” Dean's words faltered, puppy-like eyes filled with guilt. But soon his face was cupped by Parrot.
“Parrot—? W–what’s wrong?” He stuttered, eyes widened.
Confused.
Embarrassed.
Oh how cute.
And funny—
Parrot let out a heartfelt giggle, feeling like a mother finding their child amusing.
He wanted to drown himself in this moment forever.
But as soon as his gaze laid on Wifies’s calculated look, his smile faltered—snapping him back to reality.
And suddenly he finds himself pulling Dean onto himself. Dean's attempt to break through failed miserably as Parrot's grip only grew tighter.
"P-Parrot, seriously, man, you're crushing me," Dean choked out, his voice muffled against Parrot's shoulder.
He pushed his hands against Parrot's chest, trying to find leverage, but the avian’s feathers rustled violently, locking him in place like a cage of down and steel.
Parrot didn't care.
He couldn't care.
The fear of releasing Dean and watching him dissolve back into that awful, quiet void was too terrifying to risk.
From the edge of the camp, Wifies didn't move.
“What's wrong, Parrot?” He asked in a calm manner.
Eerily calm.
He stood perfectly still, his sword resting loosely in his hand, though his eyes remained sharp, narrowed, and intensely calculated.
Parrot finds himself unable to respond.
Wifies let him be. Instead, he was reading every line of Parrot's posture, tracking the frantic tremor in his wings.
A regular nightmare didn't cause this level of sheer, desperate possession.
Something was deeply wrong, and Wifies's silence made it clear he was logging every single anomaly.
Sensing the heavy weight of that stare, Parrot finally forced his muscles to unlock.
He let go of Dean, his hands sliding down to rest limply on his own knees. "Sorry," Parrot murmured, forcing a small, breathless laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Just... got caught up for a second. Go back to sleep, Dean. I'm fine. Really."
Dean rubbed his sore neck, looking entirely bewildered, but the sheer exhaustion of the late hour finally won.
He looked like he wanted to say something.
But eventually he went back to his bed without saying much.
With a quiet, concerned sigh, Parrot pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders and settled into his bed, his eyes closing within minutes.
Wifies took longer. He stared into the dying embers of the fire, then gave Parrot one last—lingering look before finally lying down, his hand still resting close to his weapon.
The silence of the forest returned, vast and heavy.
Parrot lay perfectly still beneath his own blanket, but his eyes flickered back open, staring up through the canopy at the cold, unblinking stars.
His heart still hadn't stabilized. The faint pink fluster on his cheeks faded, replaced by an icy, absolute clarity.
He needs to do something.
The warmth of Dean's skin, the smell of the campfire, the weight of his own wings—it was all real. He wasn't in that cold, desolate cell anymore.
He wasn't listening to the howling wind of his isolation.
He had a second chance.
Act normal?
No—
Fooling Wifies is never easy.
He ought to do something.
Something—
Anything—
His thoughts spiraled again.
Quieter—
Buut far more dangerous.
He looked across the embers at the silhouettes of his friends. He loved them so fiercely it felt like an ache in his bones—a profound, devastating grief for a future they hadn't even lived yet.
They were going to make mistakes.
They were going to betray him, and each other, out of some foolish, noble desire to be heroes.
And it would kill them.
‘I will fix it,’ Parrot thought, his gaze softening into a sad, fiercely protective stare.
Parrot thought back of Wifies—of what he might do during this situation.
And he ended up with only one way out—
…
But he can't risk having his plans exposed.
He needs something—
Anything…to stray away any suspicions.
A secret identity?
…
His eyes widened as a thought creeped in.
“Alkaline…”
That would do.
.
.
.
Gradually the morning sun arose, gracing the world with its light.
Dean was still fast asleep, snoring softly beneath his blanket, but Wifies was already awake. He sat on a log, silently sharpening his iron sword, his calculated gaze occasionally tracking Parrot’s every movement.
Parrot sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face.
He felt hollow.
Tired.
He looked at Wifies. He had to feed the stalker’s suspicion before Wifies deduced the truth.
"You're still looking at me like I grew a second head, Wifies." Parrot said, forcing a dry, humourless chuckle.
[Scrape. Scrape.], Wifies didn't stop sharpening his blade.
"A regular nightmare doesn't make someone look half-dead, Parrot. You looked like you were holding onto a corpse." He paused, his sharp eyes narrowing. "And you didn't sleep a wink after that, right? What's the real play?"
Parrot let out a heavy, choreographed sigh. He reached into his inventory, pulling out a rushed written book he had prepared, and tossed it onto the log next to Wifies.
"I didn't want to bring it up until I was sure," Parrot lied, his voice dropping into a tense whisper. "Before we set up camp last night, I found a hidden drop-hopper near the trail. Someone left that book in it. The signature at the back just says Alkaline."
Wifies picked up the book, flipping through the pages. His analytical mind immediately caught the bait. "These are... highly encrypted coordinates. Server-level data chunks….What is this?"
"An active supply depot belonging to the Invisible Mafia," Parrot said, leaning forward, weaponizing Wifies' protective instincts.
"Alkaline wrote that the Mafia is planning a massive, server-wide purge in this sector by next week. But this specific depot—it holds their entire looted diamond reserve and illegal gear. Right now, the guard rotation is completely empty because they're shifting forces to spawn."
Dean stirred, groggily sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Mmh... who's shifting forces? Are we getting raided?"
"No," Parrot turned to Dean, his expression turning intensely fierce and serious. "We're going to raid them. If Alkaline's data is right, we can cripple the Mafia's economy before they even launch their purge. But we have to change direction right now. We have to go confirm the info."
“...purge?”
“Yes…is there a problem, Wifies?”
“Is this the whole message this ‘Alkaline’ guy gave you?
“Indeed.”
“Are you sure? It's feel…incomplete—”
“I'm sure, Wifies. Why would I hide anything that could serve as a clue to track that ‘Alkaline' guy?” Parrot quickly cut him off.
Wifies stared at the coordinates, then at Parrot's pale, dead-serious face.
The math added up, but something still felt deeply off about Parrot's sudden, frantic desperation. "And if this 'Alkaline' is setting a trap for us?"
"Then I'll take the vanguard," Parrot said without a shred of hesitation, standing up and pulling his cloak tight. "But if I'm right... we become the richest players on this server overnight. Pack your stuffs. We are moving now."
“Wait— Are we for real? What about our original plan?” Dean interjected. He doesn't understand the details but a sudden drastic change of plan due to an anonymous informant does sound risky even to him.
Parrot looked over the brunette head for a quick second before moving closer to shadow over him.
“We'll scrap that. This is a golden opportunity for us to make some changes, Dean. Would you want to help your friend out?” The avian smiled gently, he bent down to meet the level of the taller child's eyes.
“O–of course! I'm always happy to help you guys out!” Dean exclaimed cheerfully as Parrot hand lifted to give him a gentle pat on the head and helped him put on his beanie.
“Thank you, Dean. You guys meant the world to me.”
…
Wifies could only observe the wholesome yet disturbing scene from his spot.
Parrot paid no mind to him.
As if he deliberately avoided Wifies unless necessary.
Wifies couldn't tell.
Maybe Parrot just wasn't in the mood.
But that doesn't explain the ton of affection Dean received since last night.
….(😬)
And so the new path opened—a path towards a better future.
*
*
*
The "Alkaline" info wasn't just right— it was terrifyingly flawless.
Two days later, the three of them stood in the damp, echoing cavern of a hollowed-out mountain, staring at a result that made Dean’s jaw drop.
Stacked neatly against the stone walls were rows upon rows of pure diamond blocks, illegal potion reserves, and enchanted netherite gear.
Parrot's experiences had allowed them to bypass every single hidden tripwire and sculk sensor without triggering any defense mechanisms.
"Holy moly," Dean gasped in excitement, running his hands over the smooth, cold surface of a diamond block. His eyes got even wider as he looked around, still finding it hard to believe.
"Parrot... this is enough to fund an entire civilization. I can't believe it! We actually did it. We robbed the Mafia!"
Wifies didn't look at the diamonds. He was staring at Parrot, who was organising his inventory with shulker boxes.
He knew exactly where the secret gates were, Wifies noted silently.
He didn't even have to search for the trapdoor. It’s like he’s been inside that vault a hundred times before.
"We can't celebrate yet," Parrot interrupted. He turned to face them, his expression shifting into a mask of pure, calculated panic.
"Think about it. We just stole the entire lifeblood of the most dangerous syndicate on the server. The second Ashswagg realizes this stash is gone, his invisible scouts are going to hunt us down to the bedrock."
Dean's excitement died down, replaced by a sudden wave of anxious dread.
"Wait... you're right. We can't just carry blocks of diamonds out in the open. Our inventory signatures will leak on the global map tracking!"
"Exactly," Parrot said, stepping right into his role as the mastermind. He looked directly at Wifies. "We need to hide it immediately. Wifies, I need your brain. We need an underground, un-raidable fallout bunker deep near the bedrock layer. Zero-escape redstone doors, secure air locks, wireless frequency jammers—something that cuts our data signatures off from the rest of the world entirely so the Mafia can never track us." (💀😭🙏)
Wifies’ chest swelled slightly with a dangerous blend of pride and possessiveness.
A perfectly secure bunker.
A place where no one else can reach them.
Where he can keep Parrot safe from the outside chaos.
"I can design it," Wifies murmured, a dark, brilliant spark igniting in his eyes.
"Bedrock-level reinforcement. Triple-pass piston doors. It’ll be an absolute fortress."
"Good," Parrot nodded, then turned his gaze to the younger child.
"Dean, I need you to do the heavy lifting. We need obsidian—lots of it—to encase the redstone wiring so no one can grief it from the outside. Can you handle the mining?"
"On it!" Dean gave a frantic, eager salute, desperately craving Parrot's approval. "I'll fetch enough bricks to build a mountain, bro, don't worry!”
He grabbed his efficiency pickaxe, practically running toward the nearest lava pool to start cooling and mining the dark, indestructible volcanic glass.
Parrot watched them walk deeper into the cavern to map out the blueprint—Wifies immediately pulling out graph paper to design the flawless, inescapable redstone locking mechanisms, and Dean working himself to the bone to mine the obsidian.
Standing alone somewhere far away from the looted vault, Parrot’s face fell.
A few drops of tears gradually slipped down his cheek.
Although his lips remained set in a hard, stubborn line.
Looking at them, he couldn't help but let his thoughts spiral.
They trust him.
They are working themselves to exhaustion, sweating in the dark, utterly proud to protect the wealth they gained overnight.
And they have no idea they are currently building their own cages.
…
Parrot slowly turned around, stepping away and leaving them to their endeavours.
“Parrot…where are you going?” Wifies stopped him in his tracks.
“... I'll go assess outside situations and get more allies to our cause.” The avian spoke without turning his face.
It wasn't a lie.
Not really.
“...Aight. Be careful. Hit me up when there's a problem.”
“I will.”
*
*
*
Far away, JumperWho is backed against a wall in a dimly lit, hollowed-out stone bunker deep below the surface.
The only exit is blocked by a wall of iron bars. In front of her stands the tall, imposing figure of Alkaline, clad in dark, heavy armor and a deep hood.
A half mask, resembling a crow, covered his face.
His wings ruffled in a crimson red dye, the freshly applied chemical smelled intoxicating suffocation—especially inside a closed room.
"Don't bother reaching for your ender pearls, Jumper. The ceiling is entirely water-logged. You won't glitch out of here." Alkaline warned her as he stared at the increasingly anxious bunny.
Jumper didn't respond.
She only kept her hand pressed flat against the stone wall, pickaxe lay useless on her other hand—calculating its durability.
She ended up dismissing the idea. This ‘Alkaline’ guy seemed friendly enough to negotiate.
"I don't recall giving my name to a stranger. Especially one who doesn't even have the courtesy to display a name tag." She barked out a joke as she looked above his head.
The air was completely blank.
Her eyes trace down to his feet—Alkaline is standing perfectly upright, pacing with a strange, unnaturally rigid deliberate rhythm, never sprinting, never jumping.
Something clicked inside her mind almost instantly.
"A permanent stance exploit…Clever. The server registers you as crouched underground, but you're standing right in front of me.” She paused for a second. “You must be terrified of someone finding out who you are."
Alkaline stops pacing instantly, his body locking up as if a single wrong twitch might break the glitch. "I’m not the one who should be terrified tonight. You are."
With a slow, stiff motion, Alkaline pulls a book from his inventory and tosses it at her feet. Jumper picks it up and flips it open.
Inside are precise coordinates—the bases of hers and every casual acquaintance she currently hangs out with.
Her eyes narrow, but her face remains a mask of indifference.
Unfortunately, Alkaline can see through that instantly.
"If you’re looking to ransom them, you’re wasting your breath. Me and them are acquaintances, Alkaline. Business partners at best. I don’t pay for people I barely know." She crossed her arms, slightly pissed by the idea.
"I don’t want your money. I have more than enough. I want your compliance. Because right now, the Invisible Mafia is looking for a target to make an example out of. If you walk out of this bunker without agreeing to my terms, these exact coordinates will be sitting in Ashswagg’s mailbox by sunrise. Your 'acquaintances' will be wiped from the server before breakfast." He trailed off.
…
A heavy silence fills the room as Jumper realizes how bad the situation has gotten.
She studies him. His threat is horrific, but his posture is completely rigid, and his voice carries a subtle, desperate rush.
He isn't acting like a cruel tyrant—
He's acting like a desperate man chasing over a limited time.
"You’re threatening an execution. Over what? What do you want from me?" The bunny hybrid hissed, demanding answer.
"I need eyes and ears inside the walls. I need you to take those people on that list, pull them into a tight circle, and form an information network. A spy ring. You will feed me everything that might serve as a threat to my cause, especially the Mafia before they even do it."
Jumper scoffed quietly, her teeth gritting bitterly. "You want me to drag my friends into a suicide mission against the absolute rulers of the server? Under the threat of death? Truly, a master class in negotiation." She clapped sarcastically.
Alkaline looked at her coldly. With another stiff, careful movement, he slammed a few shulker boxes onto the floor between them.
It bursts open, glittering with stacks of diamond blocks, netherite upgrade templates, and rows of pristine Invisibility II potions. "I didn’t say it was charity."
Jumper stared shockingly at the staggering wealth, genuinely thrown off guard. "W–what is this?"
"Your deposit budget. Every person you recruit gets a baseline salary of two diamond blocks a week. If they are injured on a mission, I cover the total cost of their replacement gear and health potions. Six-hour shifts, maximum. No one goes into a high-risk zone without a designated backup agent. If anyone dies under my employment, their closest allies receive a payout of fifty netherite ingots. Signed and guaranteed."
She blinked, looking from the priceless netherite to the terrifying faceless warlord.
Her logical brain completely short-circuits at the contradiction. "Hold on. Let me get this straight. You just threatened to expose my friends to a tyrannical mafia... and now you're offering them comprehensive worker rights, a premium payroll, and mandatory safety backups?"
Alkaline cleared his throat nervously under his mask, shifting his weight just a fraction too quickly before catching himself.
"High-risk operations require high incentive to maintain operational security. It’s just... good business. Do we have a deal, or—do I call Ashswagg?"
The bunny hybrid thought for a while as she slowly closed the book of coordinates. A small, knowing smirk forms on her lips as she realizes the truth.
The exploit, the massive rush, the absurdly gentle contract—this guy isn't a heartless mastermind.
He's a kid playing a villain out of pure, unadulterated panic and desperation.
"You know, Alkaline... for a supposedly ruthless mastermind, you seem incredibly invested in making sure my people don't get hurt. But fine. We have a deal. For now.”
“... I don't like your tone but…I'm glad we're on the same page. Anyway— one more thing. Do not in any circumstances, expose our cause to those three.”
“...Who?”
“...Read this and you'll understand. It contained what you needed to know, etcetera. Focus on this first before getting into your first…outside assignment.” He said as he handed her a book.
Jumper didn't respond, only taking it quietly.
Truthfully, she's still cautious of this ‘Alkaline' guy. Her moral code detested being forced into a corner, but looking into Alkaline’s dead, bloodshot eyes, she realized he wasn't bluffing. He was steps ahead of the entire server.
"So what's the first assignment, Alkaline?"
"LuigiToan," Alkaline said, his gaze softening into a sad, fiercely protective stare. "Extract him from Capital City two days from now. Keep him alive, keep him fed, and do not let anyone see you do it."
“...Understood.”
…
And so a new connection was established that day.
What would Alkaline's next move be?
Jumper and her spies alone wouldn't be enough…
He needs someone stronger…
Scarier…
Someone who can appear publically with no one daring to mess.
…
Marloww.
*
*
*
Two days later, Alkaline stood on the muddy borders of the western wilderness.
He didn't bring Jumper's spies for this.
He needed to handle Marloww personally.
He knew from the old timeline and did some further research that on this exact night, at this exact hour, Marloww’s closest friend, Ren, was ambushed by a rogue Mafia hit-squad while gathering resources.
In the original timeline, Ren died, and the grief turned Marloww into a ruthless, silent killer.
Alkaline didn't let the ambush happen.
Armed with endgame netherite gear he had looted from the active Mafia depots, Alkaline intercepted the hit-squad in the dark, eliminating them silently before they ever reached their target.
Although most of them died from traps to avoid the possibility of his name appearing on the global chat message. While the rest died in the void as their invisibility wore off.
When Marloww finally arrived at the coordinates, sprinting through the mud with her sword drawn and panic in her chest, she didn't find a crime scene.
She found Ren, completely unharmed, sitting on a log and looking thoroughly confused.
Standing beside Ren was Alkaline, wiping the rain off his cloak.
"Ren!" Marloww gasped, dropping to her knees and pulling her friend into a fierce, trembling hug. "Oh my god... I got an anonymous tip that they were coming for you—I thought—"
"He saved me," Ren whispered, pointing a shaky finger at Alkaline. "He was already here, Marloww. He wiped out the squad before they could even draw their bows."
Marloww slowly stood up, her grip tightening on her sword as she faced the cloaked boy.
She was the most lethal fighter on the server, a lone wolf who trusted no one, yet this stranger had just rewritten her worst nightmare.
"Who are you? Why did you interfere?"
"Just call me Alkaline," Parrot said, his voice carrying a heavy, exhausting weight.
He reached into his inventory and tossed two skulker boxes, alongside a book at her feet.
"The Mafia knows Ren is a target now. If you stay on the surface, they will keep sending squads until one of them succeeds. You can't protect Ren out in the open, Marloww. Not forever."
Marloww looked at the content of the shulker boxes. A short inhale was heard but she remained composed. Then her focus turned towards the book, her jaw clenched. "What is this?"
"An invitation," Alkaline said softly, leaning into his savior complex. "Currently I'm building a secure, bedrock-level facility deep underground. Completely hidden from the server maps. I am offering you and Ren a stable, high-paying, completely safe job. Ren will handle the inner staff operations—cooking, laundry, maintenance—away from the chaos. And you? You will be the head warden of my perimeter."
Marloww stared at him, her sharp eyes piercing through his cloak. She didn't care about his underground facility, and she didn't care about his plans.
But she looked back at Ren, who was breathing, alive, and safe because of this boy.
The debt she owed him was unpayable.
She silently sheathed her sword, grip stayed from on the book as she bowed her head in a gesture of absolute, life-long loyalty. "Lead the way, Alkaline. My blade is yours."
…
Well that was easy.
*
*
*
Eventually the right time has come.
The temporary safehouse was hidden deep beneath the roots of an old-growth jungle, masked by seamless piston walls. Inside, it was cold, lit only by the faint, clinical blue glow of soul lanterns.
Luigi was panicking.
He didn't know what he had done wrong.
One minute he was walking near Capital City, and the next, the air around him rippled with the telltale particle swirls of permanent invisibility potions.
Strong, unseen hands had pinned his arms, a blindfold was violently pulled over his eyes, and he had been dragged millions of blocks away into the dark.
"Let me go!" Luigi yelled, his voice cracking with pure terror as he stumbled back against the smooth stone wall of his holding room.
He was a peaceful player, entirely non-confrontational, and the raw fear of being executed or thrown into a void trap was suffocating him.
"Who are you?! What do you want from me?!"
The heavy iron door hissed open.
Luigi flinched, shielding his face with his arms, expecting a ruthless Mafia commander or a Capital City guard. Instead, a familiar silhouette stepped into the dim blue light.
"Luigi," a soft, incredibly gentle voice murmured.
Luigi’s arms slowly dropped.
He blinked through his tears, his jaw slackening. "Parrot...? Oh my god, Parrot! You're here! You have to help me, there are invisible people outside, they kidnapped me, they—"
"Shh, easy. I know," Parrot interrupted quietly. He stepped closer, his posture devoid of any weapon or armor.
Before Luigi could even process what was happening, Parrot stepped into his space and gently pulled the timid boy into a firm, grounding embrace.
His wings rustled softly, wrapping around Luigi’s shaking frame like a protective shield, cutting off the coldness of the spy base.
"You're safe here," Parrot whispered into his hair, his voice dripping with that same desperate, frantic tenderness. "The invisible people work for me. They took you because Capital City was going to ruin you, Luigi. Reddoons was going to put a quota on your head. I couldn't let him touch you."
Luigi froze in his arms, his brain short-circuiting. Parrot was the one who ordered this? "You... you kidnapped me? But... Why? Parrot, let me go home, please—"
"That isn't your home anymore," Parrot murmured, his grip tightening just a fraction, a sad but absolute finality in his tone. "The surface isn't safe for someone as gentle as you. But I promise you, Luigi... this is just temporary. I'm building a better place. A paradise. No quotas, no wars, no one actively trying to kill you. Just give me a little more time. Trust me."
Trust him.
But does he trust them?
Of course!
But right here, right now—
They're just oblivious children, unaware of the danger coming towards them.
Luigi couldn't answer.
He was too non-confrontational to fight back, and beneath the sheer confusion, Parrot's warmth was the only thing stopping his panic. He just let himself collapse against Parrot's shoulder, quietly weeping as his friend rocked him in the dark.
Parrot didn't stay long.
He couldn't.
Leaving Luigi under the strict, invisible guard of Jumper’s most trusted scouts, Parrot sneaked back out into the surface world, returning straight to the hollowed-out mountain where Wifies and Dean were waiting.
The contrast was dizzying.
One hour he was comforting a crying Luigi in a secret safehouse—the next, he was putting back on the stressed, frantic mask of a heist leader, micro-managing an illegal diamond stash.
The next three weeks passed in an exhausting blur of dust, stone, and the endless, rhythmic clinking of diamond pickaxes.
Parrot didn't let them rest.
Driven by a quiet, manic urgency that Wifies catalogued with growing suspicion, they worked like a well-oiled machine.
While Wifies lost himself in complex redstone equations to seal the perimeter against "Mafia radars," and Dean mined enough obsidian to line a fortress, Jumper's invisible network was silently preparing the final transport phase on the surface.
By the time the final iron piston door clicked into place deep beneath the bedrock, the vault wasn't just a storage room—it was an inescapable paradise. Luigi had already been secretly moved into his customized, comfortable bedroom in the back sector while Wifies and Dean were finishing the outer wiring.
And to celebrate the completion of their "fortress," Parrot had prepared a grand dinner.
“Woah! You're cooking for us, Parrot?” Dean exclaimed in surprise as he saw the full course dinner with appetising steaks being served on each of their seats alongside breads and rabbit stew. “Hold up—where did you even get these steaks?—And rabbit stew!?” He asked astonishingly.
Any animal products are considered rare nowadays, after all.
The avian only smiled gently as he nudged them to sit down.
“That aside, just think of it as y'all rewards. Thank you for your hard work, guys… Truly— I'm very grateful to be blessed with y'all.” He paused for a while as his tone grew low and queiter, “You're mine and I'm yours…whatever we have, we ought to share, right?”
His smile turned sorrow but it didn't seem like Dean noticed it as he just nodded happily in response.
But Wifies does.
And he said nothing.
Perhaps he wanted to find a better time to confront the birdie.
…
That time would eventually come.
Just…not now.
Not that the fate would side with him anyway—
And so they began to eat.
Sounds of chewing and occasional conversation filled the room.
The steak was juicy; the bread paired well with the warm stew.
But things get heavier somehow.
Is it exhaustion?
Yeah…
They're working hard, after all.
….
The room eventually fell into a heavy and suffocating silence.
Sitting right across Wifies, Dean's eyelids fluttered to keep himself up as a sudden, unnatural exhaustion washed over their face.
His fingers slowly loosened his grip on the fork before it eventually clattered against the ceramic plate.
“I—uhh…why am I so—” His words fell short as the sedative gradually took its effect.
The chair scraped against the floor, producing a painful sound to the sensitive ears—
Parrot could only hold his breath.
Dean, unaware of what's happening, tried to stand but failed miserably.
His head lolled sideways as his hand instinctively grabbed the table cloth before his body tilted, pulling everything down with him.
The plates of meal splattered onto the floor.
Messy—
With steak’s reddish brown sauce painting the floor.
As Dean was falling, Parrot was already there to catch him.
His movements were not out of malice, but a desperate frantic of tenderness. He slides right behind Dean, catching his slumped weight against his chest.
The avian wrapped his arms around him tightly, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace—holding him the way a terrified mother holds a feverish child.
“Shhh, it's ok…it's ok…you can rest easy now…” Parrot chirped reassuringly. His hand lifted to stroke the other’s hair affectionately, smoothing it down—
Over
And over again.
His mouth never stops whispering words of comfort.
At some point it almost sounds like lullaby—
Dean couldn't tell.
The touch was warm and welcoming, making it harder for him to resist the wave of exhaustion settling over him.
"It’ll be fine... everything will end soon. You will be ok... I promise you, you'll be ok…” Parrot began to rock the taller child gently—going back and forth.
Wifies watched it all happen through a terrifying, hazy lens.
“Parrot—! W–what did you do—?!” Wifies groaned. He wanted to yell, but the words only formed as a faint, breathless puff of air.
Through blurred, double-vision, he locked eyes with Parrot.
The avian looked up from the sleeping friend in his arms. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and pooling with genuine tears.
Even Wifies could tell what was behind that expression—
Guilt.
He didn't look like a monster; he looked entirely broken, completely unhinged under the weight of his own guilt. Yet, there was no hesitation left in him.
His smile was devastatingly sad but gentle.
"I'm sorry," He mouthed silently across the table.
Wifies's strength snapped immediately as the final thread of consciousness gave way. His arms buckled, and his forehead hit the table with a dull thud.
The world plunges into absolute blackness—
Leaving no room of defiance.
Left alone in the quiet room, Parrot didn't stop rocking. He just stared at his two sleeping friends, his voice dropping to a hollow, ragged whisper.
"It can't be helped…”
Silence gradually settled within the room again, leaving only the lonely sounds of weeping as its company.
…
Time goes on without a care in the world.
Oh how cruel it is.
To lose opportunity after opportunity due to the shortage of time.
Due to lack of knowledge—
To let a motherly child to bear such pain—
To bear witnesses to the chaos of the server.
To have allies betrayed one another time after time.
To be hated for their selfless acts.
But eventually—
One must learn how to be selfish—
Even just a little bit.
Even if it's just…temporary.
“You're right, Wifies… It is indeed for our sake…”
Yeah…it's only temporary…
Everything will be fine.
*
*
*
(Ehhhh not for long parrot🤷 ok my bad I should shut up 👁️👁️ but this is legit funny to me.)