Chapter Text
For the first time in a while, the server truly seems lively.
The underground room, filled wall-to-wall with vines and magma and nether wart, once felt ominous, foreboding. All hushed whispers and a chill down your spine. But the newly installed dining table and dance floor makes the place really feel like a banquet hall, despite the Egg itself looming in the corner. The atmosphere is no different—the jukebox fills the air with music, and as guests arrive friendly chatter can be heard all around. Velvet-red dresses and blackstone-suits worn by the guests perfect the party’s ambiance.
It really feels like a banquet.
And, well, the name Red Banquet was no lie. There’s not a single brick or plank decorating the place that isn’t cherry, or vermillion, or scarlet. Hell, even the punch was wine-red.
Eret helps themself to said refreshments, the sweet sugary drink swirling around their glass, as their eyes scan the dancefloor, watching the other guests and the hosts intermingling among them. HBomb surveying the night’s music choices, and a shit-eating grin plastered on Fundy’s features as he teases a tired, tense-looking George about something-or-other. Sam and Ponk, even with their opposing allegiances, greet each other happily. They see Puffy and Niki’s eyes catch—Eret isn’t sure of their relationship status at the moment, but with Niki’s recent vengeance streak and Puffy’s strong sense of justice and morality and, as far as they know, their conflicting opinions over Tommy, Niki and Puffy probably aren't exactly on great terms. But they see the two exchange a few words, and Eret thinks, with the soft smiles and light laughs and warmth decorating cheeks that Niki and Puffy exchange, maybe it’s not all bad. Off to the side of the dance floor, Hannah and Antfrost discuss something together in hushed voices, and Eret overhears Foolish and Bad complementing each other’s suits.
“You really outdid yourself,” Bad is saying, admiring the other’s attire.
“Yeah, I’m feeling snazzy!” Foolish replies, literal-emerald eyes sparkling under the shroomlights. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to party, so I wanted to go all out!”
Something about the drink in their hand and Foolish’s words makes Eret remember a conversation they’d had earlier, when the two of them were talking about their supposed history together.
“You’ve gotta lay off the drinks this time, okay? We can’t have the same incident as last time.” Foolish says, in reference to something Eret doesn’t quite remember, and not just from the alcohol Foolish implies they must have drunk to excess.
“Hey, I—I’d like to think I can manage my stuff pretty well, so I’m not sure what you’re actually talking about.” Eret replies, laughing off the remark as a momentary lapse in judgement.
Foolish laughs with them, though not for the same reason. “Listen, the last party we attended—that is not the case, not the case.”
“Have we…” Eret falters, confused by Foolish’s behavior. The last party we attended? They don't remember anything like that. Even if they had gotten drunk like Foolish is implying, they would remember being there with him before that, or maybe the morning after, but strangely, nothing comes to mind. “Have we attended a party together before?”
“Oh, this again, this again…” Foolish sighs. Eret’s amnesia about their relationship wasn’t anything new—Foolish claims they had adventures together in the past, fighting trolls and wither cults and what-have-you, claims Eret didn’t used to wear their sunglasses, claims that Eret couldn’t seem to recall. “Okay, okay. Listen, after the banquet, we’re gonna—we’re going to get to the bottom of this, you still seem a little hazy about all this.” And Eret wonders what exactly went down at that party, wonders if maybe Foolish, too, had gotten drunk, but remembers the night nonetheless. Wonders how close they had been, wonders if they really were good friends, a long time ago.
Suddenly, they’ve lost their appetite for punch. They’re sure it’s non-alcoholic, sure nobody spiked it, but still, just in case...they’d like to remember as much of this night as possible. This banquet was going to be historic—Eret truly hoped it would unite the members of the SMP, unite the people of their kingdom again. It would mark a new era, a more peaceful era. (Eret, perhaps a little naïvely, dreamed of bringing the SMP back to a time from before the L’Manberg Independence War. They wanted this banquet to be a step towards that. Those hopes and dreams, after all, were some of the only things keeping them from abandoning the throne entirely.)
Now, far in time and space from the Final Control Room, far from the button, far from the selfish decision they made that put the crown on their head, Eret recognizes the peace they had dreamed of so fondly—the peace that drove them to secure the founding members of L’Manberg’s fates in blood-stained blackstone—had made them oblivious to the true consequences of their betrayal. The greater good Eret imagined so clearly was, in hindsight, a warped and misshapen one, clouded by puppet strings and the smoke of a quasi-smothered revolution. (Not that they would ever admit to the identity of the puppeteer, not that they would ever admit to having been stuffed and stitched in the first place. Not that they even recognized that themself, not that they even saw the needles still embedded in their skin, not that they even saw their stuffing falling from ripped-open seams. Eret was one of Dream’s first puppets—well-worn, and maybe not loved as much as used, battered and dirty after being chewed up and spit back out again whenever it was convenient for Dream to toss around the crown as he pleased. Even after all this time, Eret still denied the name scrawled on the bottom of their shoes. Button eyes don’t see fabric for flesh.)
A future with less violence, less sacrifices, less wars, less betrayals. That’s what this party was celebrating: leaving the past of the Eggpire behind, moving on to better things. Let bygones be bygones, as they say. That included the distant grudges everyone seemed to try and pin onto someone who was trying to fucking change. And, yes, it was well-fucking-deserved, Eret understood that, even believed it themself. But traitor seemed to be the only thing people saw when they looked at them, not monarch or curator.
Bad calls everyone for dinner, pulling Eret from their thoughts. The three hosts—Bad, Ant, and Ponk—gather at one head of the table, Puffy taking her rightful place on the opposite end. Eret finds a seat between Foolish and George, with Niki and Fundy taking the next spots on their left and right respectively. Across the table sits Hannah, Sam, and HBomb. The gentle clatter of dishes and utensils echo in the banquet hall as everyone settles in, ready to eat. (Puffy, particularly, is eyeing the shrimp cocktails ravenously, practically making heart-eyes at the crustacean-covered glasses. Niki has to hide her smile behind her hand.)
“Welcome, everybody!” Bad taps a spoon on the side of his own glass, gathering the attention of the guests. “As you can see, we all have delicious soup in front of us, made by our own Ponk!” He’s really got the theatrics down—gesturing to the guests and the food and Ponk in smooth, conductor-like motions. “He did a great job. Good job, Ponk!”
The table echoes Bad’s praise. Eret can make out Sam’s voice very clearly—they can see the smile lines that form in the corners of Ponk’s eyes as he looks across the table to Sam.
And then, after the cheers have died down, Foolish comments: “Oh, man, I can’t believe you did all this with one hand.”
“He is a professional chef,” Bad supplies.
Ponk laughs nervously, gaze lingering on Sam for a moment before his red eyes darken and he looks away.
“Oh, I’m glad we can joke about it now.” Foolish says, “Sounds like you’re over it.”
The vines that cling to Ponk’s bandaged arm, cut off just above the elbow, seem to grasp a little tighter. Sam’s face falls, and he stares into the bowl in front of him.
Bad quickly speaks up before the mood can sour any more: “So, everybody, I just want to say this: I want to say thank you so much for coming! I really appreciate you all coming out! Obviously, this banquet is for us to, yknow, let bygones be bygones. But before I give, uh, a little speech that I’ve prepared, does anyone want to say a few words? Maybe give a toast to the meal?”
“I can start,” Foolish offers.
Bad brightens, glad to have a volunteer. “Foolish! Go ahead, go ahead.”
Foolish climbs out of his seat, standing on the table to address everyone. “Okay, um, first—glug glug! You know?” He mimes sipping his drink. Eret can’t help but laugh at their old friend. “Yeah, thank you, Eret, thank you. I’m really happy that this can all...you know, I’m kind of sick of bygones be bygones, you know? After today, I’m hoping everything’s all good, and we don’t have to hear the words ‘turn a new leaf’ or ‘bygones’…”
“Oh, god…” Puffy interjects, sick of hearing those words herself.
“And, y’know, sure, sure, you egg guys have done some pretty aggressive sales pitches.” Foolish turns to face you egg guys. “The vines, also kind of ugly. You also blew up part of my summer home. But, ayy, you know, I’m all about second, third chances. And I think that’s what this is all about, and I think we’ve all come here in agreement, in the hope of something new and promising. So cheers to, uh, a third, fourth chance!”
That’s something Eret can agree with. And as the guests clink their glasses and Bad asks if anyone else wanted to say something, the hope of something new and promising resonates with Eret so much that they’re compelled to make a speech, too. They find themself standing in the middle of the table on the balcony of their castle, friends at a table and a crowd gathered on the green to hear their ruler (or, more accurately, figurehead) speak. “As the monarch of the SMP, it’s awesome to be able to maybe see the SMP going back to being reunified again, and seeing all of us not have to worry about fighting each other on different sides. I hope this is a new chapter of the entire community as a whole. Cheers to that.”
Eret is truly glad to hear the positive reaction from the table. If people agreed with them, that made their dream that much easier to one day achieve.
Ponk steps up next, who speaks of how long ago, an old, wise man once told him that people change like the tides in the ocean. “Now, I really know they do,” Ponk concludes, his eyes lingering on Sam before he returns to his seat.
“I’m not cheering to that.” Puffy says, the rest of the table having similar mixed reactions to Ponk’s short speech.
Under his breath, Sam murmurs some words that are obviously addressed to Ponk: “You look so beautiful right now.”
“What did you just say?” Foolish laughs, but before Sam can reply Puffy offers to say some things.
“Alright.” She walks to the center of the table, facing the hosts. “Bad, Antfrost, we’ve been through a lot, y'know. Uh, I’ve considered you my—my best friends…”
“Aww!” Puffy’s heartwarming words evidently have an effect on Bad.
“Yknow, and, uh, this whole Egg this is, uh…” She glances at the Egg itself, not far from the table. “...you know, separated us quite a bit. And, um, you know, I’m just happy that as you say we’re turning over a new leaf, so I don’t have to sacrifice any more friendships, so, uh, thank you, for today, and hopefully this brings us all together, and that makes the Dream SMP a lot more peaceful!”
“That’s awesome. I appreciate that, Puffy.” Bad says, and, fuck, if that isn’t the most genuine reaction to the night’s speeches.
“Cheers to that!” Eret holds up their glass.
“Cheers!” Everyone but Fundy echoes, clinking their own glasses against Eret’s. Fundy, instead, yells “Pog!” excitedly.
“Alright, would anyone else like to say a couple words?” Bad asks.
“George, I think everyone would love to hear from you.” Foolish says, a little teasingly.
“Uhh....well, I was asleep, like, twenty minutes ago…” Underneath his sunglasses, unseen by anyone else, George looks around the room warily. “ ...but it looks kinda cool! What’s the soup?” A viable question, but if anyone here knew better they would be able to tell George was deflecting, changing the subject away from himself and his sleep habits. (Beetroot, Ponk answers, made with organic, free-range beets.)
“Um, okay. Would anyone else like to say anything? Anyone? Anyone at all?” The final call, going once, going twice.
“Do you have anything to say, Bad?” Puffy asks from the far side of the table.
“I—I actually do, I actually do.” Bad stands up at his chair. “Okay, uh, so I would just like to say I really appreciate you all coming, again. I think this is the perfect opportunity for us, as a server, as a community, to come together, and—and honestly, just, to let bygones be bygones. To let any past issues, to set them aside so we can grow and advance from this point forward. Because while there have been, you know, rocky, you know, bumps along the way, and there have been, you know, certain statues were blown up…”
“Yeah...” Foolish says, remembering the destruction the Eggpire reigned on his home not long ago.
“...certain, you know, people were almost killed, or, attempted—”
Puffy coughs. Bad gets the message—this is entering dangerous territory.
“Death was attempted—you know—look, people sometimes...try and kill people who, yknow, they really shouldn’t, you know?”
Hums of disagreement rise from the table.
“And that’s fine...but, you know,” Bad looks to his right, giving a quick nod to Antfrost. “in the spirit of moving things forward…” After the awkward stumble in admitting some of the Eggpire’s faults, Bad’s self-assured mannerisms return, his confident, commanding gestures once again capturing the attention of his audience. “I would just like to say I was very, very happy that we were able to gather everybody here together, for what is, I’m sure, going to be a banquet that none of us are ever. Going. To. Forget.”
Eret notices, absentmindedly, that the room feels warmer, sweat collecting on the back of their neck. Much too warm, actually, for the dress that they’re wearing.
“And, uh, yeah, thank you for coming everybody,” As Bad concludes his speech, he takes a final, casual sip of his drink, then tosses it aside, the shattering sound of glass breaking abruptly breaking the party’s once-calm atmosphere. “and uh...prepare to die!”
“What?!” cry the guests, who realize all at once and much too late that they’ve been trapped behind a wall of lava. This was no banquet—this was a trap.
“We’ve been walled in!” Eret voices everyone’s thoughts, the people around them staring at the fiery, molten barrier with horror.
“After all that?” Foolish turns in his seat to face Bad.
“Bad, what about turning over this leaf?” Puffy joins in on the accusations.
Bad gives her a shrug. “The leaf is staying the way it is.”
“Is there any way out, is there any way out?” Foolish’s eyes scan the wall, checking for any gaps in the lava they could escape from.
“NO, THERE’S LITERALLY NO WAY OUT!” Fundy yells, his panic reaching a crescendo.
The sleeve of HBomb’s suit gets caught on fire, confirming that it was, indeed, real lava. Bad laughs at his feeble attempts to put it out, sparing him some golden apples, giving mercy generously because he knows the fate of the banquet’s doomed attendees. “You should try not to die yet, HBomb.” Bad says the words with a smile—everything is going according to plan.
“You know what? We’re fine, we’re fine…” Puffy, level-headed and brave to a fault, stands triumphantly on the table, staring down her greatest enemies. “I didn’t trust you, Bad.” She starts, matter-of-factly, confident in her confession. “I didn’t trust you at all, I didn't trust Antfrost…” Eret watches the captain with pride, echoes of their former knight still present in Puffy’s every word.
“What?” Bad feigns surprise.
Sam joins her on the table, silently staring down the members of the Eggpire as Puffy continues her tirade. “I knew, I knew something was up! It’s unfortunate to say that I can’t trust either one of you,” She turns her head toward Bad and Antfrost respectively. Then, she bends down, flipping the tablecloth over to reveal a hidden chest. “...because I planned this.”
Bad gasps at the reveal, still keeping up the act. It would only be a moment now, before he could drop it entirely.
Puffy opens the chest, only to find—”What!?” She screams, hands grasping at air.
“Oh,” Bad and Ant share a look, speaking in unison.
“Where’s the stuff?” Foolish, who also appeared to be in on the plan, looks at the empty chest quizzically.
Bad and Antfrost swiftly equip the diamond armor that Puffy, Sam, and Foolish thought they had hidden so cleverly, brandishing two swords along with it. “Looking for this, perchance?” Bad taunts, waving his sword around in a display of power. Bad’s sword is dangerously sharp, ready to slash and pierce and kill, and Ant’s is a heavy, two-handed executioner’s sword, the point flattened so the blade resembled a long, thin rectangle. Beside them, Ponk suits up as well, and the trio readies their shields and crossbows, prepared to stifle any rebellion against them.
Then Hannah steps up to Bad’s side, diamond armaments soon decorating her, too. Puffy, Sam, and Foolish all shout various defeated cries of “No!” and “There’s no way!”, and Eret realizes, stomach sinking, that Hannah had betrayed them.
“I’m sorry, Puffy. I had to do it.” is Hannah’s remorseless apology.
“Do what, Hannah?" Puffy asks, pleading, don’t do this.
“Hannah?” Eret finds themself asking. As they look into Hannah’s eyes, they see their own staring right back. Eret wonders what Bad—what the Egg had offered her, in exchange for her cooperation. Wonders if she thought it was worth the broken relationships, the trauma she’ll—the trauma Eret still has surrounding the Final Control Room. Wonders all this, because they know exactly what that was like first-fucking-hand, because they know what it’s like to betray, because they know the life of a traitor—their own.
“I had to tell them.” Hannah says, voice almost hollow.
“What? Why?!” Puffy demands.
Hannah’s answer is a simple one: “The Egg.”
“You were with them the whole time?” Foolish asks her.
“You told them, Hannah?” Sam asks, in disbelief.
Eret’s heart breaks at how upset they both sound. Prime knew Eret had been asked similar things back when...hell, when L’Manberg wasn’t much more than yellow-concrete-and-blackstone walls.
“I—I had to tell them,” Hannah repeats the words like her choice was obvious. (Eret knows the feeling.) “It was the only way.”
“I’m sorry,” Bad cuts in, “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m sorry, Puffy...but! Time to get on to the main event.” Bad loads his crossbow, aiming it at Sam’s head.
“Well, that is tragic that you told them about our plans for the armor, but...” Even with the arrow pointed at him, Sam’s voice is calm, collected—he has another card up his sleeve.
“Wait, what?” Bad’s surprise, this time, sounds genuine.
And Sam reveals his card—a pre-set trap of TNT, planted with the intention to blow the Egg up. The Egg, of course, had defenses in place, and Sam’s explosives only made blocks of crying obsidian materialize. Another futile attempt to stop them. It was laughable, really, how hard they tried.
“Now, uh, if you would all kindly please make your way over here,” Bad crosses the floor to the front of the Egg, where a raised platform sits before it. “We can begin the summary executions.”
“Wh—the—the WHAT?” Puffy sounds like she can’t believe what she just heard. “Execution?”
Fundy, similarly, screams, “THE WHAT?! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, what?” Hearing the sheer panic in their adopted son’s voice, Eret rushes to his side, putting an arm around him protectively.
“Come on, make your way over here!” Bad calls to the terrified crowd, awaiting a volunteer.
“You could either head over here, or die over there.” Ant threatens, the arrow in his crossbow itching for a target.
“What about the speeches, man?” Fundy pleads.
“Wh—the—the speeches?” Bad scoffs. “That was just to lull you into a false sense of security!” He says it like they should have known. “You see, the Egg needs something. and it’s gonna get it from each of you. See, in order for the Egg to hatch, it needs energy. And it gets that energy by people dying near it! And that’s the role that you guys are gonna fill!” Bad sounds much too happy to be an executioner. “We’re gonna kill you one by one—”
“You’re a monster.” Eret walks forward, interrupting solemnly.
Bad’s eyes (and crossbow) land on them. “What did you say, Eret?”
“You’re an absolute monster.”
“I’m a monster?” Bad seems to find amusement in the insult.
Eret continues, despite the arrows threatening to fly. “We all trusted you, Bad.”
“Trust!” Ponk cuts in, “Okay, Eret, keep talking. Keep talking about trust.”
Eret bristles. “That was a long time ago.” Maybe it was deserved, but they couldn’t keep letting other people prevent them from finally fucking moving on from their past. “I’ve changed since then. I know not to break people’s trust any more.” Which was entirely true—Eret just hoped everyone else saw that.
“You know what?” Bad shares another look with Antfrost, one that Eret instinctively doesn’t like. “I think, Eret, you would be a perfect person...to sacrifice first!”
The crowd that’s gathered by the table erupts in gasps.
“Eret?” They make out Foolish’s voice first—he’s standing next to them, they realize—saying their name. Eret’s heart, already broken from Hannah’s betrayal, shatters at the sound. Foolish knew Eret so much more than they knew him, and Foolish was about to watch one of their oldest friends die without them ever getting to know their history together. (It hits them, then, that they were going to die, that Bad or Ant or whoever the fuck were going to kill them.)
Eret’s never died before.
“What a great idea, Bad!” Hannah’s cheerful agreement is an abrupt tonal shift.
And at the same time, they hear Fundy call their name—“Eret?”—from behind them. His voice is shaking.
“Um…” Puffy’s usual bravery, usual outspoken justice, dies in her throat. (What good is a knight who can’t protect her monarch? She’s given up that title long since, but even without being called Sir Captain Puffy she still wants to protect her friend.)
Fundy starts laughing nervously as Hannah calls, all-too-happily, “Here, follow me, follow me! Here, take my arm.”
“...What?” Eret finds their voice, finally, but can do nothing but question the fate they’ve been handed.
Hannah grabs them by the arm, and the echo of Eret’s younger self reflects in the lenses of their sunglasses. Eret sees themself in her, sees Wilbur and Tommy and Fundy and Tubbo in the place they stood now. The way Eret’s looking at her makes Hannah hold them a little tighter, makes her rose’s thorns dig into their skin.
“Wait, Eret!” Fundy’s voice breaks into a yell as Hannah leads his parent to the platform, to their death. He already watched his biological father die—Eret couldn’t suffer that same fate.
“Does anyone have anything?” Foolish taps his pockets uselessly, as if his pure will alone to save Eret would make a sword materialize in his hands.
“We have no weapons!” Puffy answers, equally distraught, staring helplessly at Hannah, Ponk, Ant, and Bad, all wearing armor and wielding swords and crossbows and shields that they stole. The very armaments she had planned to use against them, put to use in a sick game orchestrated by the will of a false god. In that moment, there was only one thought on her mind: Fuck the Eggpire.
“Nobody has anything!” Fundy screams, sounding close to tears as Eret steps onto the platform and is forced to their knees. They can’t see it, but they feel Antfrost’s executioner’s sword hovering above their neck. “We literally can’t do anything about this!”
“That’s right!” Bad laughs, somehow finding joy in the guests’ horror. “Excellent, excellent. I really appreciate you following the directive and not bringing any weapons.” He waves his crossbow around as if flaunting the fact that they were utterly defenseless. “Very courteous of you.”
“We trusted you, Bad!” Puffy, outraged at this arrogant display of power, outraged at this sickening sacrifice to a fucking Egg of all things, outraged at her lack of agency, finds her footing, sees the injustice in front of her and calls it the fuck out with all of her being.
“We trusted you!” Niki and Fundy echo in unison, the power of their screams together overbearing.
Eret’s breathing picks up, their body shuddering with every panicked breath. Their words bring Tommy to mind, and Eret sees the poor boy’s face, screaming at them, clear as day in their mind.
“Eret, you bastard! We trusted you!”
They hear their heart pounding in their ears, feels nerves come alive with pure anxiety and adrenaline. The room seems to move beneath them, and they’re not sure how long they can hold themself up for. (For how much they speak of moving on from that very event, it appears it still causes an incredible deal of anxiety. What a hypocrite they are.)
Bad laughs. “Well, that was your first mistake.” They know he’s talking to Puffy, Niki, and Fundy, but with the place their thoughts are in, it sounds almost like he’s taunting Eret for their betrayal. The thought doesn’t help their anxiety. “What, you thought we were just going to stop spreading the Egg’s influence over the server, just because a couple people got mad at the vines? Like, come on.” His voice is much too casual to be speaking of something like this. “That’s been the goal all along, to hatch the Egg. The Egg wants power and it’s gonna get it.”
“Alright, stop. Stop, stop, stop.” Foolish steps forward. Eret catches his eyes. What the hell is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed. If either of them were to die…
(Well, Eret would want the victim to be themself.)
“I have had enough!” Foolish takes another daring step. “I am sick of this foul, red stench, I am tired of this endless cycle of Egg nonsense. I tried— we tried to give this dreadful Egg another chance. But it’s probably best it ends this way.” Eret had never seen Foolish’s eyes so full of hate. “Shielding itself against TNT? That was impressive. Unexpected, no doubt. But can it withstand a barrage of lighting?”
Foolish holds his hand out, confident and commanding, but then one tick passes, and another, and another, and his confidence begins to waver. Why aren’t my powers working? No, no, no, I need—I need to save Eret, I need to save my friend. I can’t lose the one seemingly permanent thing in my fucking life. Why won’t it—
“Huh.” Bad looks at the Egg expectantly. “Interesting.”
With the distraction, Eret finds the strength to run to Foolish’s side. Eret leans on Foolish’s shoulder, supporting their weight against him. “I...I don’t understand…” Foolish’s voice is quiet, disbelieving. “Why isn’t it...working?”
“You really thought you could enter the Egg’s domain and beat it in a battle of power?” Bad taunts. “Come on. You’re in the Egg’s territory, Foolish.” Bad steps forward, meeting Foolish face-to-face. And then—an idea. “You know what…” Bad thinks aloud, looking between Eret and Foolish.
“I...I don’t understand, it—it’s suppressing me…” Foolish’s voice sounds weak. His reality has been shaken to its core—there are other entities stronger than him. For him to not only meet his match, but be overpowered while attempting to protect his friend? That was earth-shattering.
“Bad, why don’t we start with Foolish instead?” Antfrost suggests, pointing his sword at the helpless demigod.
Bad grins. “I think I like that.”
“WHAT?” Puffy’s heart stops. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…” Not her own son.
“Foolish, no!” Eret turns to Foolish, and even with their empty, white eyes, they know Foolish can sense the fear in them. “We can’t.”
“Yeah, Ponk, bring him up.” Ant commands, and Ponk does as he’s told. Eret can’t find the strength to stand on them own. Puffy runs up next to them, both to defy the Eggpire and to make sure Eret was okay, help them stand.
Meanwhile, Hannah chants: “Sacrifice! Sacrifice!”
Bad presses the tip of his crossbow to Eret’s forehead, flicking his hand upwards to tilt their crown. “We’ll save the monarchy for later. Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Eret,” Bad warns as he returns to the altar, “but we can start with Foolish.”
“You two, Bad, Ant—this is your last chance with me. Your very, very last chance.” All of Puffy’s anger towards the Eggpire is channeled in her words, and everyone can hear it.
“Or what, Puffy?” Antfrost sounds unimpressed by her display of rebellion.
“I am done after this."
“What are you gonna do?” Ant questions, almost daring Puffy to continue. “You have nothing.”
Meanwhile, Bad blocks Foolish from jumping off the altar with nether brick.
Eret can’t do anything but watch. “I wish I could help, Foolish. There’s nothing I can do.” Seeing Foolish struggling to get away...that should be them up there. Foolish was going to die in Eret’s place, and Eret can’t help but feel like it was their own fault.
“It—It’s okay, Eret.” Foolish assures, smiling despite standing in the face of death.
“I trusted you two, time after time...” Puffy’s eyes are full of vengeance. Not her own son. “And you do this? You think you’re gonna put my son up there and kill him in front of me?”
Antfrost steps off the platform, facing her head-on. “Puffy, you were a part of the Eggpire. You could have prevented this.”
“And look what you all turned into!”
Antfrost doesn’t show a hint of guilt. “Okay, but this is for the Egg, Puffy.” He says it justifies anything they’re doing.
“I don’t care about the Egg!” She almost laughs, her anger bordering on hysteria. “I care about people, Ant, and you don’t!”
“And that’s the problem, Puffy!”
“You’re selfish.” She sounds almost sad. She lost her two best friends to this stupid Egg. They were selfish and stupid and she can’t see what made them give up their friendships for this, can’t see why they don’t know what they’re doing is wrong.
Ant returns to the platform, pointing his sword at his victim. “Because of you, Foolish is now stuck in here.”
Antfrost was not going to make Puffy feel fucking guilty for something he did. “Not because of me, because of you!” What kind of fucking logic did the Eggpire follow?
“It is because of you!” Ant’s reached a breaking point. He storms towards her, and even with how heavy his sword is, he finds it in himself to wave it around with one paw, gesturing wildly and angrily. “You abandoned us first, Puffy!”
Puffy looks around at everyone standing behind her: her fellow former knight, HBomb; her...tentative girlfriend, Niki; her friends, Sam and Fundy; and George, who she didn’t know well but was going to fight to protect him, anyway. “I did what I needed to to make sure everyone else was protected.” There’s those hints of her knighthood, again. Protection and justice: that’s what Puffy stood for, and it made her not only a great knight, but a great friend. “Because all you and Bad care about is the Egg and yourselves. You’re selfish.”
“And look at you now, Puffy. You tried to protect everybody, and look at where everybody is. Look behind you. Everybody behind you is defenseless. They’re about to be slaughtered because of you.” There Ant goes again, with the blaming and the guilt tripping. “Foolish, your own son, is about to be slaughtered because of you.” Antfrost walks back up to the altar, placing his sword over Foolish’s neck.
No. Fuck that noise. Blame her for the deaths of everyone else, fine. But blame her for the death of her own son? “I’m only one person!” She’s pleading, now—she can’t let Foolish die.
“Puffy, Puffy, It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Foolish, unlike Eret had been, looks calm despite the sword hovering, ready to kill. (Eret realizes, much later, it was because Foolish didn’t really believe he could die.)
“No! It’s not alright!” Puffy can’t accept the reassurance.
“Puffy,” Antfrost says with a terrifying air of finality, “You could have stopped this if you had stayed with the Eggpire, but this is your fault.” And he lifts his executioner’s sword, and swings down—
Puffy’s screams are the last thing Eret really remembers hearing. The next minutes are a blur—Eret doesn’t think they stopped shaking the whole time. They blinks and suddenly Quackity is there, now, crashing the party alongside his army of Technoblade and Purpled. (Puffy gets an axe, somehow—and she’s without mercy as she gives Antfrost an execution of his own.)
The guests all crowd around the lava, wanting to get as far from the ensuing battle as they can. The heat is overwhelming, and it’s not helping Eret’s panic. They stare at Foolish’s body, flickering in and out of existence at the altar. (It won’t stick around for long.)
Eret doesn’t even want to think about what Foolish would have done had the roles been reversed. Doesn’t want to think about how Foolish remembers so much more of their relationship than they did. Doesn’t want to think about the sound of his voice saying their name when Bad put them up on the chopping block. Doesn’t want to think about Foolish standing next to them, only for Eret to be ripped away from him. Doesn’t want to think about Foolish trying to smite the Egg for them. Doesn’t want to think about how hurt and confused and dazed Foolish had sounded when his lightning didn’t work. Doesn’t want to think about Foolish readily volunteering himself to die in their place, because that’s exactly what totems were meant to do—give up their own lives for yours. Doesn’t want to think about how they can’t even fucking reminisce because they don’t even remember Foolish. Doesn’t want to think about what would have happened if, when Eret was up there, that sword actually—Eret’s never died before. And nobody’s ever died for them, either. Not until tonight.
(Eret wonders, fleetingly, if those memories of their friendship died with him. If Foolish’s promise that they would get to the bottom of this would ever be fulfilled. If these hazy, hardly-there scenes in their head were all that remained, now. It’s almost amusing—an immortal sea demigod of undying hits you up and says, “Hey, remember those banger college parties we went to?”—You don’t. Now, Eret’s not sure if they ever will.)
Eret blinks, and realizes that Foolish’s body had disappeared. They didn’t know how long they’d been standing there, staring into space, staring at where their friend’s body used to be.
The battle’s over. (Purpled tells Eret what had happened—The Eggpire had retreated to the surface, and had scattered far enough that Purpled couldn’t chase them. Besides Foolish, Antfrost, and several of Techno’s dogs, there were no casualties.)
While Techno tends to his one surviving dog, Quackity makes the rounds, checking in on all of the guests. Niki, Sam, and HBomb were fine, if a little shaken up and worried from the night’s events.
Quackity checks on Puffy next. She’s still seething from the fight. “Hey, Puffy.” She looks up from her still-bloodied axe. “You alright? Are you hurt?”
Her eyes wander. To Niki, to Eret, to the Egg, to the altar. And she is far from okay, and she thinks Quackity can tell, but she still says, voice quiet for the first time that night: “I’ll be okay.” No, I’m not alright! She wants to say, My best friends just murdered my son in front of me! But she doesn’t really know Quackity well enough to express that much grief in front of him.
Quackity hesitates, but moves on.
He finds Fundy next, bending down to his height. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, man, I just…” Fundy’s voice is still shaky, and his fur is wet from crying. “I almost lost Eret.”
Quackity glances to the person in question. He had known about Foolish’s death, but not what sounds like Eret’s near-death experience, though he won’t say he’s surprised—death threats certainly aren’t outside of the Eggpire’s repertoire. “Okay.”
“Eret.” Quackity goes up to them, with less compassion than he had talked to the others with. Their relationship wasn’t the best, and even if Quackity was checking on them, he wasn’t going to pretend he liked them. “Are you hurt?”
Physically, Eret thinks they’re fine. Bad and Ant hadn’t done any damage to their body. “No,” They answer, voice strong yet distant at the same time.
At the confirmation, Quackity gives them a quick nod before leaving. His demeanor totally changes when he finds George in the crowd—Quackity calls his name, running at him and giving him a hug. George looks stunned at the physical contact. “George! Are you okay? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”
“Yeah, no, I’m fine…” George says, distracted. As relieved as he is to see his friend, he still finds the need to pinch himself on the arm. Just to...make sure.
With all the guests accounted for, Quackity, Techno, and Sam stay behind to talk about the Egg, and Purpled leads the rest of the group back to the surface.
The fresh air doesn’t feel right, not with Foolish not being able to walk out of there. As everyone goes their own separate ways, Eret’s eyes find their fortress among the surrounding buildings.
There’s something they have to do.