Chapter Text
Mapicc and Jumper stood in Spoke's room, waiting.
Mapicc carefully held a cake in both hands, a single candle planted right in the middle.
Jumper, meanwhile, was on the other side of the room, adjusting the hanging lanterns they'd put up earlier.
"Is that one crooked?"
Mapicc squinted.
"...A little."
Jumper sighed, reaching up to fix it.
"There."
"Perfect."
They both went quiet.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
The unmistakable sound of heels against stone echoed down the hallway.
Mapicc's eyes widened.
"He's coming."
Jumper immediately stepped away from the lanterns.
Mapicc straightened his posture, carefully keeping the cake level.
The footsteps grew louder.
Then came Spoke's voice.
"I swear to God, nothing I tell you stupid guards to do can be done right!"
The door was still closed.
"I asked for three reports!"
Click. Click. Click.
"THREE!"
"Not thirty, for God's sake!"
Mapicc bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
Jumper covered her mouth.
Spoke continued ranting from the hallway.
"And then he has the audacity to tell me, 'But Commander, you said reports.'"
A pause.
"...I said three."
The footsteps stopped directly outside the door.
Mapicc's eyes darted toward Jumper.
Jumper silently mouthed:
Ready?
Mapicc nodded.
The door opened.
Spoke walked in, still visibly irritated, a stack of papers tucked beneath one arm.
"I swear, if I have to explain basic—"
He stopped.
His ears twitched.
The room was decorated with hanging lanterns, little ribbons, and a few hastily-made decorations—which just added more chaos to Spoke's already chaotic room.
Mapicc stood directly in front of him.
Holding a cake.
Jumper stood beside him, smiling.
Spoke stared.
"..."
His eyes moved to the cake.
Then the decorations.
Then Mapicc.
Then Jumper.
"...What?"
Mapicc grinned.
"Happy birthday!"
Jumper joined in.
"Happy birthday, Spoke!"
Spoke remained completely still.
"..."
His tail, which had been lashing irritably moments ago, slowly went still.
The anger seemed to drain out of him.
"You..."
He looked around the room again.
"...Did you guys do this?"
"No, the Ender Dragon personally came down and decorated your room."
Mapicc rolled his eyes.
"Obviously we did."
Spoke's ears lowered slightly.
"...Oh."
Jumper smiled.
"Surprise."
He looked down at the cake again.
There was a little frosting cat sitting beside the candle.
Spoke stared at it for several seconds.
"...You made a cat."
"Yeah."
"It's terrible."
Mapicc gasped.
"Excuse me?!"
"It's got one ear bigger than the other."
"I worked very hard on that!"
"It looks like it has a disease."
"Spoke!"
A tiny smile finally appeared on the voidling's face.
"...I like it."
Mapicc's offended expression immediately softened.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Spoke carefully set his papers down on the nearest table.
Then he looked between them.
"...Thank you."
His voice was quieter now.
No sarcasm.
No complaint.
Just genuine gratitude.
Jumper smiled.
"Of course."
Mapicc shifted the cake slightly.
"Now blow out the candle before I accidentally eat the whole thing."
Spoke stared at the candle.
"...Wait."
"What?"
"You got me a whole cake?"
"Yes?"
"...For me?"
Mapicc blinked.
"Who else would it be for?"
Spoke's ears twitched.
He looked down.
"..I haven't had cake in a while."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Jumper looked at Mapicc.
Mapicc looked like he felt sorry for Spoke.
"Well..."
He held the cake out a little further.
"Guess you get one now."
Spoke looked at the candle again.
A tiny smile returned.
"...Okay."
He leaned forward and blew it out.
Mapicc immediately raised both arms.
"YIPPEE!"
Jumper laughed.
Spoke stared at them.
"...You two are ridiculous."
"You're welcome."
"...Thank you."
He hesitated.
Then, very quietly—
"...Really."
Mapicc grinned.
"Anytime, birthday boy."
Spoke rolled his eyes.
But he was smiling.
Then, as if he'd suddenly remembered he was supposed to be annoyed, Spoke's expression shifted.
His eyes narrowed.
He looked between Mapicc and Jumper.
"...Did you two do your patrol yesterday?"
Mapicc immediately swallowed.
He slowly looked at Jumper.
"Uh..."
Jumper stared straight ahead.
"..."
Spoke's ears perked.
"Oh my fucking—"
He dragged both hands down his face.
"I swear to God, no one can do anything right in this bloody place!"
Mapicc flinched.
"Go."
He pointed toward the door.
"Now."
Neither of them moved.
Spoke's tail flicked sharply.
"I want your report by tonight."
His gaze settled on Mapicc.
"And, Mapicc, I want yours too."
"Not just Jumper writing for both of you."
Mapicc opened his mouth.
"I—"
"No."
"But—"
"Go."
Mapicc sighed.
"...Yes, Commander."
Jumper gave Spoke a small nod.
"Got it."
Spoke turned around, clearly ready to leave.
He made it approximately three steps.
Then stopped.
His shoulders slumped.
"..."
He slowly turned his head back toward them.
"I don't wanna go to Jamato's office."
Mapicc blinked.
"...What?"
Spoke sighed.
"Nothing."
He turned fully around.
"You two are coming with me."
Jumper raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"That's not an explanation."
"It's my birthday."
Mapicc stared.
"...What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't know."
Spoke gestured vaguely.
"I just don't want to walk there alone."
Jumper's expression softened slightly.
"Fair enough."
Mapicc grinned.
"Aww, birthday boy needs an escort?"
Spoke immediately pointed at him.
"Don't."
Mapicc raised both hands.
"Didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I wasn't."
"You absolutely were."
Spoke turned toward the door.
"Come on."
Mapicc and Jumper followed.
As they stepped into the hallway, Mapicc leaned toward Jumper.
"He's still mad."
Jumper nodded.
"Very."
Spoke's ears twitched.
"I can hear you."
Mapicc immediately straightened.
"...Happy birthday?"
"Thank you."
A beat.
"...Now shut up."
"Yes, Commander."
_
The door to Jamato's office opened quietly, Spoke peeking his head in and looking around cautiously.
"Anything wrong?" Jamato's voice cut through, the elf sitting in his usual place and flipping through a book, like always.
"..Yeah." Spoke admitted quietly. "Apparently it's my birthday today, and I don't trust you."
"Why's that?" Jamato raised a brow, not looking up from the book.
Spoke stepped in, Mapicc and Jumper falling himself
"Because I didn't remember, and if I didn't remember, that means you definitely remembered and that you definitely planned something to ruin my day further." Spoke said, still cautious.
"Speaking of ruined days—" Spoke continued. "Your so called guards piss me off so bad you have no idea. I'll genuinely rip them apart one day."
Jamato finally lowered the book.
There was a long silence.
Mapicc slowly looked at Jumper.
Jumper slowly looked at Mapicc.
Neither of them dared to say anything.
Jamato stared at Spoke for a moment before sighing.
"First of all, happy birthday."
Spoke narrowed his eyes.
"...Suspicious."
"Second of all, I haven't planned anything."
"More suspicious."
"I literally just said I haven't planned anything."
"Exactly."
Jamato blinked.
Spoke folded his arms.
"You always say things like that before something happens."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You absolutely do."
Mapicc raised a hand slightly.
"To be fair, he does."
Jamato looked at him.
"You're not helping."
"Wasn't trying to."
Jumper leaned against the wall, watching the exchange with an increasingly amused expression.
Jamato sighed and closed his book.
"And for the record, I remembered your birthday."
Spoke's ears immediately perked.
"...You did?"
"Of course I did."
Spoke stared at him suspiciously again.
"Why?"
Jamato gave him a flat look.
"Because I've known you for years, Spoke."
"...That's somehow worse."
"How is that worse?"
"Because now you know exactly how to ruin my day."
Mapicc snorted.
"He's got a point."
Jamato pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I haven't done anything."
"Yet."
"Spoke."
"Yet."
Jamato stared.
Spoke stared back.
Jumper quietly whispered to Mapicc, "He's going to drive Jamato insane."
Mapicc whispered back, "He's been doing that for years."
"I can hear both of you."
"Good."
Jamato sighed again.
Then his eyes flicked toward the stack of papers sitting on his desk.
"Actually, speaking of ruining days—"
Spoke immediately groaned.
"No."
"I haven't even said anything."
"I know that tone."
Jamato picked up one of the reports.
"The guards said you requested three reports."
"I did."
"They gave you thirty."
Spoke's ears flattened.
Mapicc immediately looked away.
Jumper covered her mouth.
Jamato glanced at Spoke.
"...You know, I think they may have misunderstood the assignment."
Spoke's eye twitched.
"Misunderstood?"
"Yes."
"I said three."
"Yes."
"Not thirty."
"I am aware."
"THIRTY."
"I counted."
"THIRTY REPORTS, JAMATO."
"I know."
"I HAVE BEEN READING THEM FOR HOURS."
"I know."
"ONE OF THEM WAS ABOUT A MISSING CHESTPLATE."
Jamato paused.
"...Why?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
Spoke threw his hands into the air.
"WHY DO I HAVE A REPORT ABOUT SOMEONE'S MISSING CHESTPLATE WHEN I'M SUPPOSED TO BE INVESTIGATING PARROT?!"
Mapicc finally cracked and started laughing.
Jumper immediately elbowed him.
"Don't."
"I can't—"
Spoke slowly turned toward him.
Mapicc stopped.
"...Happy birthday?"
Spoke stared at him.
"You're writing your patrol report twice."
Mapicc's smile disappeared.
"...What?"
"And you're doing yesterday's patrol again."
"What?!"
"Consider it a birthday present to yourself."
"That's not a present!"
Jumper snickered.
Spoke looked between them, then back toward Jamato.
"See? This is what I mean."
Jamato raised a brow.
"How exactly am I responsible for that?"
"You're the leader."
"That's not how leadership works."
"It is today."
Jamato stared at him for several seconds.
"...You're getting old."
Spoke's ears shot straight up.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
"No, no, say it again."
"I said nothing."
"You said I'm getting old."
"I did."
"JAMATO."
Mapicc burst out laughing again.
Jumper was barely holding it together.
Spoke pointed accusingly at Jamato.
"I am going to remember that."
"I know."
"And I'm putting it in the birthday section of my notebook."
"Please do."
"And I'm drawing a picture of you looking stupid."
"Please don't."
"Too late."
Jamato shook his head, amused.
For all of Spoke's suspicion, paranoia, and relentless complaining—
Jamato hadn't planned anything to ruin his birthday.
If anything, he seemed perfectly content to simply let Spoke spend the day being himself.
"And—" Jamato looked at Mapicc and Jumper. "When am I getting you two's weekly report?"
Mapicc looked at him like a dumb chihuahua.
"Weekly what?"
Jamato stared.
"Every week you're supposed to give me a report about your work." Jamato raised a brow.
Spoke?
Spoke looked at Mapicc and Jumper like they had done something to ruin his entire life.
"Are you two kidding me right now?"
Neither answered.
"You can't be serious—what do you two do, huh?"
Mapicc slowly pointed at himself.
"...Exist?"
Spoke's eye twitched.
"You don't do your patrol, you don't do your paperwork, all you do is bitch and whine and eat food and sleep."
Jumper opened her mouth.
"That's not—"
"Don't."
She closed it.
Spoke pointed at Mapicc.
"Mapicc, I want your patrol report by tonight, and don't say, 'Oh, why aren't you scolding Jumper?' I know she'll do it, and your fuckass won't."
Mapicc frowned.
"Well, I'll start doing work when I start getting paid!"
Spoke stared at Mapicc for a few seconds.
The room became completely silent.
Jamato slowly lowered his book.
Jumper looked at the ceiling.
Mapicc, realizing he'd probably said the wrong thing, shifted awkwardly.
Spoke finally spoke.
"Mapicc."
"...Yeah?"
"You're a slave."
Mapicc's face dropped.
"Wow."
Spoke pointed back at Jamato.
"That guy is a fucking dictator, okay? He does not care."
Jamato raised an eyebrow.
"I am sitting right here."
"I know."
Spoke didn't even look at him.
"I want your weekly report."
He pointed toward Jamato's desk.
"On his desk."
Then he checked the clock.
"By 5 PM."
Mapicc's eyes widened.
"Five?!"
"Yes."
"That's barely any time!"
"You've had an entire week."
"...Oh."
Spoke narrowed his eyes.
"And if I don't see it, Mapicc..."
Mapicc swallowed.
"You're never seeing the Overworld."
"Ever."
Mapicc's ears would've probably flattened if he was a cat as well.
"Again."
There was another long silence.
Jumper finally turned toward Mapicc.
"...You should probably write the report."
Mapicc looked betrayed.
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"I am."
"Then help me."
"No."
Spoke nodded approvingly.
"Good."
Jamato leaned back in his chair, watching the entire exchange with an increasingly entertained expression.
"You know," he said casually, "I don't remember appointing you as their supervisor."
Spoke immediately turned toward him.
"Someone has to."
Jamato gestured vaguely at Mapicc and Jumper.
"And apparently you volunteered."
"I did not volunteer."
"You've been yelling at them for the last five minutes."
"Because they don't do anything."
Mapicc raised a finger.
"I do things."
Spoke turned.
"Name three."
Mapicc froze.
"...I eat."
"That's one."
"I sleep."
"That's two."
"I complain."
Spoke stared at him.
"...That's three."
Mapicc smiled triumphantly.
Spoke looked at Jamato.
"See what I deal with?"
Jamato nodded solemnly.
"Tragic."
"Thank you."
"I wasn't agreeing with you."
"I'll take it."
Jumper quietly sighed.
"Can we just go write the report?"
Spoke pointed at her.
"Yes."
Then at Mapicc.
"And you."
Mapicc groaned.
"Fine."
"And don't copy Jumper's."
"I wasn't going to."
"You absolutely were."
"I was considering it."
"I knew it."
Mapicc dragged himself toward the door like he had just been sentenced to fifty years in prison.
As he passed Spoke, he muttered,
"Still think I deserve a paycheck."
Spoke didn't even look at him.
"You deserve a second patrol."
Mapicc stopped.
"...I hate you."
Spoke's ears perked.
"Good."
Jamato watched the three leave, then glanced down at his book.
For perhaps the first time that day, he wondered if giving Spoke authority over other people had been a mistake.
Probably.
Definitely.
Absolutely.
Spoke turned fully to Jamato, stepping closer to the desk to reach for his precious bubblegum as he spoke.
"I'm leaving for the End in like—uh, an hour?"
Jamato looked up from his book.
"The End?"
Spoke unwrapped the bubblegum and popped it into his mouth.
"Yeah."
"And I'll go alone because our dear Guardian of the End, MinuteTech, is probably there, you know, guarding the End."
Jamato's brow lifted.
"And I doubt I'll get past him with six Null guards surrounding me."
He paused, chewing thoughtfully.
"Might take Mapicc and Jumper if I feel like it."
Jamato stared at him.
"You've just decided you're going to the End."
"Pretty much."
"To investigate the report?"
"Yep."
"Three hundred thousand blocks into the Outer End."
"Yep."
"Possibly past MinuteTech."
"Yep."
"Alone."
Spoke shrugged.
"Maybe."
Jamato closed his book.
"No."
Spoke blinked.
"...No?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you're not going alone."
Spoke frowned.
"I literally just explained why I can't take six guards."
"I heard you."
"Then why did you say no?"
"Because six guards isn't the only number of people who can accompany you."
Spoke stared.
Jamato stared back.
"...How many are you sending?"
"None."
Spoke's expression brightened.
"Great."
"I'm going with you."
The brightness vanished.
"...Oh."
Jamato stood, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.
Spoke immediately took another piece of bubblegum from the little container on the desk.
"You weren't invited."
"I don't need an invitation."
"You're really are a dictator."
"I'm your leader."
"Same thing."
Jamato ignored him.
"And before you complain, you're taking Mapicc and Jumper as well."
Spoke stopped chewing.
"Why?"
"Because you just said you might take them."
"I said might."
"Now you are."
Spoke sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
He started walking toward the door, then stopped.
"Oh."
Jamato looked at him.
"What?"
"I need supplies."
"For once, that's sensible."
Spoke nodded.
"Yeah."
He paused.
"Can I take your bubblegum?"
Jamato stared at him.
"You already took some."
"That's different."
"How?"
"That was one."
"And?"
"I want more."
Jamato sighed.
"Take the container."
Spoke immediately turned around, grabbed the entire container, and tucked it into his coat.
"Thanks."
"I regret that already."
"Too late."
Spoke headed for the door again.
Jamato followed.
From somewhere down the corridor came Mapicc's voice.
"WAIT—WE'RE GOING TO THE END?!"
Spoke stopped.
He slowly looked toward Jamato.
Jamato slowly looked toward Spoke.
"...You didn't tell them."
"No, should I?"
"No."
A beat.
Mapicc appeared around the corner with Jumper behind him.
"WE HEARD THAT."
Spoke sighed.
"...I hate that you have ears."
Jumper crossed her arms.
"Where are we going?"
Spoke rolled his eyes, sighing.
"The End."
Mapicc stared.
"...Today?"
"Yes."
"In an hour?"
"Yes."
"Three hundred thousand blocks?"
"Yes."
Mapicc looked at Jumper.
Jumper looked at Mapicc.
Then both looked at Spoke.
Mapicc sighed.
"I haven't even started my report."
Spoke smiled sweetly.
"Then you'd better write fast."
"...I still hate you."
"Good."
"How did you even hear me and Jamato from all the way over there?"
Spoke stared at Mapicc and Jumper, genuinely confused.
They were standing halfway down the corridor.
The office door was barely open.
Mapicc shrugged.
"I heard you."
"That's not an answer."
"I have good ears."
Spoke slowly pointed at himself.
"I have good ears."
"Not as good as mine."
Spoke's ears immediately flattened.
"That's physically impossible."
Jumper tilted her head.
"You were also talking pretty loudly."
Spoke's expression went blank.
"I was not."
Jamato, standing behind him, cleared his throat.
"You were."
Spoke turned around.
"...Traitor."
"You were."
"I was speaking at a perfectly reasonable volume."
Jamato raised an eyebrow.
"You called me a dictator."
"That doesn't require volume."
Mapicc snorted.
"You also said 'six Null guards' loud enough for half the building to hear."
Spoke stared at him.
"Okay, first of all—"
He paused.
"...Six guards."
Mapicc nodded.
"Six guards."
Spoke narrowed his eyes.
"How far away were you?"
"Like... here."
Mapicc gestured down the corridor.
Spoke looked at Jumper.
"And you?"
"Same."
He looked back toward Jamato.
Then toward the corridor.
Then back at Mapicc.
"...Do you two just listen to everything I say?"
Jumper shrugged.
"Not intentionally."
Mapicc grinned.
"You're just really entertaining."
Spoke's ears twitched.
"I am going to start whispering."
Jamato picked up his book again.
"You'll still be heard."
Spoke looked horrified.
"...By who?"
Jamato turned a page.
"Everyone."
Spoke stood there in silence for a moment.
Then he slowly pulled his hood over his head.
"I'm never speaking again."
Mapicc immediately replied,
"You said that yesterday."
"I mean it this time."
"Sure."
"...Shut up."
_
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.
.
.
.
.
–
The sound of heels echoed through the hallway.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The brunette pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he walked into the main room, his lab coat swaying behind him with every step.
The room itself was surprisingly cozy for a place sitting nearly three hundred thousand blocks into the Outer End.
Bookshelves lined nearly every wall, crammed with old books, handwritten notes, maps, and the occasional stack of papers that had clearly been abandoned halfway through whatever project they had once belonged to.
A few lanterns hung from the ceiling, their soft purple light illuminating the room.
The scientist barely paid any of it any attention.
"Someone found us," he said casually.
He walked over to the middle table, picked up a coffee that had been sitting there, and took a sip.
He grimaced.
"Cold."
He drank it anyway.
With the cup still in hand, he walked over to the couch and hopped onto it, settling into the cushions.
He swirled the coffee thoughtfully.
There was no panic in his voice.
No urgency.
Almost as though someone finding them was merely an inconvenience he'd already expected eventually.
From the corner of the room—the small library tucked between two towering shelves—the faint sound of wings shifting followed.
"Who?"
The familiar voice was calm, though there was a hint of curiosity beneath it.
He glanced toward the library.
"Well..."
He paused.
His eyes briefly flicked toward the papers scattered across the table.
Then toward the window overlooking the endless purple void outside.
Then back toward the library.
"They're not exactly close."
A beat.
"...But they're coming."
The room fell quiet.
A book somewhere in the library slowly closed.
The sound of wings shifted again.
"How many?"
"Couldn't tell you."
He took another sip of his coffee.
"...Yet."
There was a pause.
Then the voice from the library spoke again.
"Do they know we're here?"
He smiled faintly.
"That's the interesting part."
He leaned back against the couch.
"They know someone is here."
The room went silent again.
Outside, the distant End islands floated endlessly through the darkness.
Somewhere far beyond them, something—or someone—was already making their way closer.
The brunette, tail curling around one leg lazily, looked toward the doorway.
"...They just don't know who."