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Chapter Text

An empty dark purple throat started to be illuminated with flickers of acidic, violet, transparent, flames. Cast in the shade of purple, was just a void of neverending black that was interrupted in few places by pale yellow islands and lilac structures that floated on the sea of nothing. She could feel a slight breeze rush past her scales as she flew over her prison. They called it her kingdom, oh how she wished that was true. This was never destined to be hers to rule. She only got the faded gold, almost broken crown as a punishment.

 The kingdom of Endi used to be great, used to have contact with both the Overwiori and Neithai kingdoms. Not anymore. Cut off by the repercussions of three 'crazy' kings. She agreed with them and what they had tried to do, although not publicly as that would make her a social pariah and likely to be declared a heretic by the Endi, a fate even worse than ruling. The sight before her fizzled out as she inhaled, leaving her in darkness with only the remnants of the acrid tainted stink of the acid flames.

 The only thing left to remind her of her existence after the smell faded, was the circular weight on her head. The eternal reminder that she had a duty to Drani and Endi alike. The only thing stopping her from doing what she wanted. It wasn't like she could give it to anyone else, she would have done that as soon as she was bestowed the cursed object if that was the case. 

The underside of her wings were the first to be drenched in the shards of ivory light from the city below. She had arrived. Slowly, she descended onto an empty stretch of slightly soft purple brick. Her claws dug into the purpur, slightly sinking with her weight. Grey puffs of air escaped her snout as she cleared her throat, smelling like the rotten scent of chorus fruit.  Her glaring purple eyes examined the city before her, a mix of purple, black and yellow illuminated by fluorescent white enirods. Thin, tall figures that blended into the void, moved around the buildings, eyes the same glowing purple as hers, but never the green shine of emerald or the burning fire of crimson. 

She bitterly laughed to herself, what did she expect? A tiny part of her still hoped, still dreamed, that perhaps if she just looked hard enough she would find one. A dream that refused to completely abandon her, much to her chagrin. It was a lost puppy, following her despite how hard she tried to escape it. If only she wasn't wishing for the impossible. 

"Queen Kreia? Why have you blessed us with your presence at this time?" She looked down, in front of her stood a figure dressed in a spotless, long, violet coat with golden trim, who had asked her the questions. They had the two long legs and two almost equally long arms of Endi. The single horn on the top of their short shagged hair covered head was almost level with her shoulder. Their body was almost entirely black save for slightly lighter patches of grey in his hair and skin. Their voice flowed as smoothly as the never ending breeze of Endi, slightly melodic in tone.

"Inspection." A single 'innocent' word that they both knew held much more weight than it seemed to non Endi. The Endi opened their gaping jaw, revealing a purple mist in order to comply in a shaky voice, or to perhaps protest. It instead shocked her when they replied just as calmly as he asked.

"Okay." Seeing her apparently not hidden expression, they chuckled."It's not like you will find anyone. You know they all died out one crystal cycle ago. No Endi is going to have their child stolen away to be a slave for some haughty Draci ever again." Most Endi would never have such open derision for the crown, and most Draci would never tolerate the slander. Her father would've burned him on the spot.

They had gall or a death wish, for disrespecting the queen in her face, good for them that she didn't care about petty insults. Afterall, she knew most of the Endi thought worse.  

"Doesn't mean I'm not allowed to check." She shot back, a growl slipping in. Unfazed, the Endi turned their back to her and gestured her forwards. She followed in his wake, leaving slowly fading claw marks as she walked. 

She could feel the hair hidden gazes of the Endi, as they watched her follow them onto the empty pale cream enndiastone elevated platform. 

"Inspection" That was all she needed to say, as the townsfolk started to rush around like a horde of Endimi and snatched up their young, hugging them tightly before lifting them up to show her their faces. Holding them up like some sort of sacrifice, clueless purple eyes stared at her in curiosity from the arms of their parents, bangs and warriness not yet fully developed. A quiet spell, casted under her breath was still heard by keen ears of the Endi, evident by the dulling of their eyes into a static dark purple blur. No eyes  changed shades, and no Endi had skin become paler than the ground she stood on. 

None of the children at least. Her escort was a different case. 

Grey patches now overwiori bone white, a single eye dyed the color of blood. They had Keeper ancestry but sadly wasn't even a half-blooded one. They wern't a rare sight, but the fact they had more than one noticeable trait made them quite unique. Still, they might have hopefully exhibited the more magical traits that others with less ancectory lacked. The townsfolk waited, looking between the part-keeper and her, seeing if they would end up losing their mayor, who, according to the tablets, had a quite high approval rating. 

She was about to take them and leave, when she heard a soft giggle from behind her. Twisting her body around, she saw what she had never would've guessed. An Endi toddler, skin half black, half white. What truly shook her to her core was the eyes, the eyes of a full Keeper.

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The first time he saw the pale purple murk, he was barely ten, running from the soon to be ruins of his kingdom. A golden crown too big to fit on his head, clutched in his pink furred hands, refusing to give it up to his gold hungry pursuers. The last remnant of the life he had used to live. His hooves pounded against the ground as he ran, loud enough to be heard over the yells of those chasing him, but not loud enough to drown the screams in his head. The screams of the newly dead.

They called for vengeance, for blood. They called for things he couldn't give them.

His breaths, now painful, shorten and sped up as he tried desperately to keep running. He couldn't stop, he wouldn't let it happen, no matter how badly his body was strained. He wasn't strong enough to even take another step, collapsing on the empty frame of a strange rectangle. He could only watch, as they got closer and closer, blood on their snouts the blood of his people that he should have protected.

It had been driven into him from a very young age that a king puts himself on the battleline first, but Techno had been scared. He had shown cowardice unbecoming of the king he should have been, turning tail and running at the sight of the endless hoard ready to swallow the kingdom. He hadn't even managed to escape, pointlessly running for nothing. They were now close enough to make out their faces, eyes blank and expressions animalistic. 

He forced himself up, not wanting to die lying down. No sword or axe in hand, he raised his fists. A wave of fear drowned any bravado he had left as he saw what the lead held, a black lined golden sword shining red. The Blood God's blade. Outrage accompanied his fear, how dare they steal from the Temple. They dared disrespect the Blood God, along with massacring his chosen. He knew that at least he would be avenged, whenever the Blood God returned. He hoped that it would be painful. His tight fists loosened and his body, against his control, turned to the vertical rectangle. The voices in his head had quieted down, the dead seemingly entranced by the empty frame. His hands dropped uncomfortably in temperature as something flowed from them, it looked like normal lava, but flowed more smoothly, even defying gravity. As it slowly crept towards the black frame, he could hear them getting closer. His body refused him the ability to look back, to fight them head on with whatever was coming out of his hands. Not like it would matter, all residents of the nether were fireproof, but it could have been used to strangle them or drown them. 

A hiss, exactly like the sound gold made when burning, could be heard as the lava-like substance touched the smooth black shape. In seconds the lava vine shattered into pieces of cooling magma, one fragment reaching his leg but stopped by his thick fur from cutting his skin. The previously empty frame was filled with an opaque purple glow. Growls and roars of the Piglins were much louder, signalling how close they've gotten. The purple thing seemed to hum softly, almost unnoticeable. 

Whatever had been controlling him, released him suddenly causing him to stumble forward into the purple with his build up momentum.

For a moment he felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing. But only for a moment, he was soon pulled into a world of something again. Although it wasn't the something he was used to. The ground was made of blades of green that covered a dark brown substance,slightly soft at the touch, instead of the hard, red, netherrack that made up the majority of the grounds of his kingdom. Something shone above, a yellow circle of light brighter than glowstone or lava, stark against the pale blue emptiness. No black rock seemed to hover over his head, instead there seemed to be no roof, a quite unsettling thought. The green in front of him seemed to be dotted in wrongly colored trees, the wood colored similarly to hoglin skin and covered in thousands of weirdly shaped dark green things instead of clumps of nether wart. The air seemed much cooler as well, even colder than the coldest Soul Valleys that he had visited. 

Then he realised something, a dawning expression of shock spreading across his pig-like features. No one had believed in the place, it was just a myth that even the youngest of Pigmen knew was false. It was the only explanation that made any sense. A flowing blue, that was rushing down a tall structure of grey, green and brown, proved his theory. Water only existed in the Overworld, so did grass but that he had seen in museums although it looked a bit different.

A loud whir sounded behind him. He spun around ,to his dread, a stumbling Piglin. He dodged a clumsy axe swing and fell back onto the ground, his body seemingly to have finally remembered his fatigue. His fall was cushioned by what seemed to be grass. He knew his time was up, one axe swing and he would just be another voice without a host. 

He thinks he is gonna die lmao.

He doesn't know, ha.

Imagine not being omniscient.

 All three things echoed through his mind, leaving him confused, how would he not die? These were his first voices, he had no clue if they should be trusted, fragments of the dead who the Blood God pitted, blessed with unlimited knowledge, sent to assist the first Pigman they found. Sure, they had no reason to lie, but very well could for fun, he had no idea what they enjoyed.

He opened his formly tightly squeezed eyes, wondering as to why he hadn't been split down the middle yet. What greeted his eyes horrified him. 

Patches of skin melting off parts of the Piglin's body, revealing blood and bone. He seemed to be silently screaming, mouth gaping open, letting his fleshy red soaked tongue slide out, staining the grass. Techno could only watch in morbid fascination. Slightly delighted that he was being avenged. The voices loved it, their delighted chatters overpowering some of his own thoughts. The rest of his skin only seemed to lose the brown fur, pinkish skin left bare. The left part of his face was almost completely skeltal, only a white eye socket.The eye that had fallen into the blood, was soon crushed by the panicked movement of his hooves. His left ear had also entirely fallen off his face, bone and all sitting in the red pool. The edges between only bone and bare skin became a grassy color, smelling of rot. Yet, he was still somehow standing, a living corpse. 

Techno began to retch, nothing coming out as he hadn't eaten since Firestart. The voices seemed disappointed by his reaction, some even laughing. The thing in front of him, turned away and stepped back into the purple from which it came. It wouldn't take long until he witnessed worse.

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Her silver eyes lacked remorse, the only thing he could see as she, her body wrapped almost completely in black fabric, drove an iron blade into his throat. His body wouldn't move, lacking any feeling because of whatever the hell she had poisoned him with. His consciousness was quickly sliding into the void as she continued to force the knife into the exposed inside of his neck. His clothes were wet with blood, stained crimson as well, the last thing he felt other than the cold iron of the weapon that finally took him down. 

He felt cold. 

And wet.

He expected to feel nothing after death, he didn't expect to feel like he had been submerged in arctic waters. He didn't have a body so he really shouldn't have felt anything. 

Yet somehow it wasn't the most shocking thing. He saw her standing in front of him, surrounded by emptiness, not black, just emptiness. It was her, the woman that he loved but had gone missing.  Was this some sort of afterlife?

"Soon" she whispered in a voice that he remembered fondly. He wanted to ask a thousand questions but she yet again disappeared like she had done all those years ago, and the feeling of icy water evaporated with her, leaving him trapped in nothing.

He thought his body would have remained in the living world but it carried over with him here, letting him still feel the sharp ache of his death wound and then he began to feel the warmth of his breath. It seemed as if his feeling was slowly starting to return. 

The world was so much brighter then it had been before he had died, yet at the same time he felt so much heavier. The void was gone but a part still seemed to cling to his skin, not letting him fully feel anything as he awoke. Awake wasn't the correct word, he hadn't been merely sleeping, he had fucking died. His eyes had just opened, shocking him with the view of the wooden panels that made up the walls of his house. His back seemed to burn against the cool sheets that he was on, blistering pain that seemed to want to tear through his skin. The lingering effects of wherever he had just been seemed to move to his back almost as soon as the pain erupted, silencing the pained screams of his back nerves. His arms trembled as he attempted to force his body into a sitting position, taking much more effort then he had thought it would. His efforts lead to nothing, despite how many attempts he made, he couldn't lift his strangely heavy back off his bed. Resting his head back on a clean white pillow that he was sure wasn't one he owned, the only thing he could do was stare at the arched wooden ceiling above. Microbes of dust danced through the air, illuminated by faint warm yellow sunlight that had most likely passed through the window to the left of the bed. It looked like it had any other day. His throat let no sound escape as he tried to curse when the pain in his back briefly returned.

Worry gripped him, what if they found him again? Not likely, but still possible. He had no idea what was within the powers of the Empire Guards. He hoped at least they wouldn't get past Steve. His thoughts quited as the day went on, running out of things to keep him entertained.

Mute and frozen, he had no choice but to slip into sleep. 

His eyes opened once again, the only thing that had changed was the light, now white and much weaker. He had always found something haunting about the loneliness the night emphasised. He hated the reminder that everyone he had loved was gone. By his own fault. He had chosen to leave them behind, in the hands of a friend he had trusted wrongly. He had fallen in love with her. Happiness had sparked inside him when he took his assumed final breath, but now he was on the living plane again, still dealing with the same sense of guilt. 

Their faces appeared in front of him as if summoned, body non-existent, looking much older and weary then when he had last seen them. He knew they weren't real but he still reached for them, not what he was seeing, only focused on the scarred faces of his two sons, Tommy and Wilbur. 

Tommy, his youngest, had hair the color of the sun and a personality to match. Always excited and getting into trouble at any moment possible. The elder, Wilbur, weaved words into angelic like songs and tales, able to talk himself out of any situation. 

He had thought Dream would have taken care of them. Instead the mothefucker had taken the opportunity to kill them, refusing to say why. Only giving him their still pulsing hearts, expression hidden behind his porcelain mask etched with a wide smile. Saying that they had disobeyed and deserved punishment. He had screamed at him, enraged, but Dream had vanished into thin air. He hadn't wanted to believe it at first, it could've been anyone's heart. To his dismay, it was theirs, many magical tests revealing that they had once been in his son's bodies.

It hurt, that when he touched them they vanished. Returning to wherever they came from. Visages of who they could've been. Things that should've come to fruition, if it wasn't for him and his own mistakes. 

He should have never gone looking for it. His eyes were blinded by thick wet drops that poured freely. He curled into himself, sight blocked by a roof of black feathers, slightly brushing his face. Feathers? The tears slowed as he registered what was wrapped around him. A giant black wing that looked to be similar to depictions of  Prime Angels. He propped his body up, and a second, equally large wing, sprung out from underneath him. Wings he clearly remembered not having before. What especially surprised him were the condition they were in, despite having laid on both, the feathers were straight and ordered. Phil didn't know much about birds or wings, but he was pretty sure that they should've been partly damaged. Yet there they sat on his back, in perfect condition  and slightly shiny

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Copper flashed in front of her eyes, almost blinding her with reflected shards of white light. It disappeared, only leaving a streak of bubbles on the surface of translucent turquoise water. Her pink webbed feet swayed, the same direction as the fish that had just swam past, pushed by the aggressive current, as if the water was trying to make her follow the fish. She wanted to, but she knew that Sally wouldn't appreciate it. She had made it clear that Niki would let her go on her date, alone. 

She had refused to give up the name of her suitor, only leaking that it was a tall boy from the town Niki owned a bakery in. Speaking of her bakery, she needed to get back. She didn't really want to go deal with the frequent annoying customers but she couldn't leave Jack to handle them by himself. The last time she left him alone for too long, he somehow stole a canon life from a customer. 

The water was also a cool relief on her sun scorched feet, adding to her reluctance to head back. Yet she did, lifting her pink, wet, dripping legs out of the water and standing up. Her legs were scattered with pink splashes of scales, getting larger and more dense the closer they were to her feet. They marked her as a pink axolotl hybrid even more than her webbed hands did. She had been lucky to find a village that tolerated hybrids like herself. 

Feathers ruffled behind her and she turned to see a crow staring at her with beady black eyes. His pale yellow talons clutching a dark oak branch of the nearest tree. 

"Oh hello Wilbur." She greeted the crow, seeing the patch of white feathers on his throat. He was Phil's pet crow, named after his beloved son, whom Niki had actually yet to meet.

He chirped at her and titled his head in the direction of the village. 

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." She chuckled. Niki slipped dry leather shoes onto her feet, face slipping into a slight frown as the water on her feet evaporated. 

She turned back to Wilbur, and he jumped off the branch. Batting his wings frantically, he flies onto her shoulder, claws digging into the fabric of her shirt and slightly stinging her skin. His eyes had a sort of gleam up close, as if he knew something she didn't. 

Niki looked up. The sky was a dark blue edging on pure black and rimmed with red. A gasp escaped her lips, she hadn't realized how long she had been there. She had arrived at the beginning of sunset, a flaming torch in one hand, and now the sky was on the precipice of dawn and the torch somewhere between flames and embers.

The red on the horizon continued to expand, as the sun peeked over the trees. Niki could only wait, her torch not bright enough to let her navigate through the trees before the sun had fully risen, to both her and Wilbur's irritation. She might as well have still been sitting on the bank. She was glad that Jack only had to manage the evening customers, who tended to be on the calmer side. The morning crowd on the other hand… she shuddered just thinking about them.  

The sun had finally risen above the dark green sea of leaves that made up the canopy of the forest not too long after she started waiting, by now her torch was nothing but a slightly burned stick.  

Her first step in the forest met nothing but the dirt path, her second met a thin stick that cracked under her weight. The third time she stepped forward her shoe met a rock, causing her to stumble forward, cursing her lack of attention. Wilbur made a sound that seemed like in between a laugh and squawk at her frustration. 

The rest of her journey through the forest was like she was walking on a normal path, undisturbed by the wildlife that usually flocked to her. As if they knew.

They couldn't, right? They didn't know before, why would they now?

She shedded the worried thoughts from her mind, quickly latching onto another hopefully true theory. Winter was arriving soon, bringing the death of many plants and hibernation of animals. They were preparing for winter, more focused on securing survival than some pink-haired girl. 

Shards and faint flickers of light were the only things able to slip through the thick roof barely enough for her to tell where she was going. The dim atmosphere as much as it gave her trouble with navigating, it also had a comforting feel. Reminding her of swimming through the ocean, no one to bother her, to harass her, or to once again ignore her.

Her emotions plummeted when she exited the seemingly empty forest. The bakery was aflame. Its birch wood roof flickered with orange light that ate up the wood as she watched.

"Ayup Niki!" Jack's face was plastered with a nervous grin. "As you can see I encountered some… issues when managing your fine establishment."

"Jack-" Her voice was filled with exhaustion. It was the third time this month he had somehow burned the bakery down. "Please spare me whatever excuse you have, I know it was an accident. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I trust you." She gave him a genuine smile. "Thanks for even attempting to deal with the customers and for taking over while I was gone. Who was it this time?"

"Tommy. I like him, but sometimes he is… a bit much." Niki nodded in agreement. His eyes landed on her shoulder, and his face shifted into one of relief. "Oh thank god. Philza was worried about you." He addressed Wilbur, who was still perched on her shoulder. "Why did you take him with you?" He asked, looking into Niki's eyes, his curiosity evident. 

"I didn't. He must have followed me."  

"Well thats strange…" He muttered. "Anyway," He clasped his hands."At least the bakery isn't turning into ashes anymore!" What he said was true, the fire had died out leaveing the edges of the hole it burned smoldering with embers and ash.

"Why did no one try to douse the flames in water?" 

"They were fucking nether flames" He snorted. "Belive me, both me and Tommy tried."

"How…"

"Badboyhalo was also involved."

"Bad?" Niki whispered. "He was here?"

"Yeah. He was for some reason. He was actually asking about you."

"Shit."

Chapter Text

Onyx scales chafed against his enderhide pants, shoving the rough material close to his smooth black and white skin. His long arms were wrapped tightly around a tall pole covered in the same scales that he sat on, the neck of Heria. The eldest daughter of the End Queen, who also was his sister. 

He slammed against her neck as she came to a sudden stop, one of her scales even cutting into his cheek. Wet red slid down the white half of his face. He let out a slight cry of pain, the wound hurt more than it should have for such a shallow cut.

She didn't seem to notice, attention fixed on the sight below them. Nothing seemed amiss to his eyes at first. Then he saw it. On what he thought was an empty pale yellow island, tinted purple by his sister's gaze, was a flash of a color he only saw in mirrors, red. A bright red, closer in shade to one of his eyes then the blood dripping down his face.

"Uh- what's that?" Ranboo asked.

"This isn't good." She growled, panic flooding her voice, seemingly ignoring his question. 

The pain from his cut spiked as she said that, forcing him to release the water he had tried desperately to stop from leaving his eyes. He whimpered as the tears added to his pain, leaving burn marks on his skin as they slipped down his blood stained face. 

She didn't even hear him scream as he tried desperately to shake the tears off his face.

"Ender." She cursed, eyes still locked on the light. 

Ranboo, who had quieted once his tears had finally dried, was wondering why she was ignoring him. Had the red light distracted her enough to ignore cries louder than her roars?

"Eat this." She took one of her claws and tore open a pouch she had slung over her neck, dumping a stack of purple fruit that grew throughout the end, chorus fruit, into her other claw. 

"What-why?" 

"EAT IT!" She roared, desperation mixed with frustration in her voice. She tossed one of them behind her, the fruit landing perfectly in his white hand. It sat in his hand, purple liquid leaking from it, as he hesitated. "Please." 

"But-"

"I'll be fine. If you stay, you won't be for much longer." 

He stared at the sphere in his hand, smelling like Endi blood. The smell of his dyi- No, he wouldn't think of it now. Not now, not ever. 

He lifted it, and shoved the entire thing into his mouth at once. His sharp teeth shredded through the thin outer layers and hit the slimy purple center which he proceeded to swallow. 

It took seconds for it to work, once the slime made it to his throat, his body feeling as if it was falling apart into smaller and smaller pieces. 

For a few seconds, Ranboo didn't exist.

Then he did. His body thrusted back into existence all at once, lying on something soft, a red spark hovering over him. 

High above, purple eyes floated in a sea of black. They widen as if shocked, and start getting larger. 

Ranboo couldn't move or speak. He didn't know why, he just couldn't. The purple eyes get closer and their owner is revealed, bathed in red light is a dragon similar in color to the sky with light grey stretched between the thin, pointed lines of scales that made up her wings. 

She called to him, but her words were a jumbled and twisted mess to his ears. With every beat of her wings, Ranboo was encased in rushing cold air. It seemed to be happening in a pattern, as if she was trying to signal him something. A mixture of weak and strong bursts of wind that spelled out RUN.

He wanted to obey her command, but his paralyzed body refused. His muscles strained, yet he moved not even an inch.

Then the red shattered, one large red ball becoming thousands of shards permeating the air for what seemed like thousands of feet above him. Some of them even dug into his skin, through the thick layer of clothing he was wearing, burning worse than his tears did.

He wanted to scream, cry, plead, but he couldn't, stuck frozen with his mouth gaped open, the only thing passing through his gate of teeth being silence.

Heria got it worse, most of the shards adhering to her scales and burrowing into them like her scales were made of the outer layers of chorus fruit. 

To his horror, her scales started to peel off, taking the skin underneath it with them. Revealing a writhing mass of blood, muscle, and bone. 

This entire time she had stayed quiet despite the agony she must have been going through. Her jaws were locked open in a scream, and her wings stiff. Despite the lack of movement from her wings, she was still floating, carried by the same things ripping her apart.

Then she fell, now just a skeleton, crashing down and landing barely a foot from his head. The empty stare of the skull of someone he thought was his sister, broke him.

Both emotionally, and from the position he had been stuck in. 

Finally free, Ranboo sits up. He feels hollow, stuck in the land of disbelief. He turns away from it- it wasn't her, it couldn't be her.

He choked back a sob. If it was her- it couldn't be- it would be the second person that he loved, that was dead. 

Trying to stop thinking about both of them, he shifts his mind to the topic of how he would get back home, to the palace. 

His eyes glance back at it, and land on the somehow intact chorus fruit lying right beside it.

He didn't want to wait the time it would take for a search party to find him, but the skeleton was covered in red sparks that didn't look to be going away anytime soon. He had no urge to lose his skin, or be put through torture, making him hesitant to approach. 

His body seemed to be okay, the slice on his cheek had even stopped bleeding and the pain had lessened greatly. 

Yet, he clearly remembered being touched by some of the red sparks and the pain that had soon followed it but it hadn't left any marks or injuries on him.

Seeing how close the red sparks were to the chorus fruit, he realised he had no choice but to wait.

This was going to be boring.

Chapter Text

Jack looked at her, face stuck in confusion. "Niki?"

"What did you tell him?" Her voice was filled with an urgency that it hadn't previously contained.

"That it was your bakery and that you would be back soon. Why?" 

"I- it's nothing." She brushed his concern aside. "You did what seemed best based on what you knew. If anything, it's my fault for not telling you. See you later Jack."

"Wha-." She pressed a few golden coins, painted a reddish orange from the light of the rising sun,  in his hand and smiled at him before starting to jog to the remains of her bakery. 

The structure itself seemed to be mostly intact, although darkened with soot. The only big problem was the roof, or well the lack of one.

It was a tent shaped collection of birch logs she had spent a lot of time gathering from forests quite far from her village of residence. It was that, but now it was nothing but a few random, heavily scorched, logs attached to nothing but air. 

She really didn't want to travel all the way to Ereis again. But a bakery needs a roof and oak didn't really match the rest of the build. 

"Shit. Niki, I'm sorry." Tommy spoke with rare genuineness. 

"It's fine. Jus-"

"Wilbur! You bitch." Tommy glared at the bird still on her shoulder. "Stop acting like your namesake, disappearing all the time and shit." He held out his arm and Wilbur gilded onto it, claws digging into his skin and causing him to slightly wince. 

"Language!" Niki tensed. "Niki! It is wonderful to see you again!" The one person she had been dreading spoke those words. The one person she had ever had any ill will toward. Badboyhalo. She turned from Tommy to face him. He seemed to be darkness dressed in a cloak of red and black. His overworld form. Two spheres of red peered out from under the hood. Slowly the rough shape of a human head started to appear although still made of the same void of color.

Can't say the same. The words lingered in her throat, not even reaching her tongue. They refused to. She wanted to say them, to speak her mind, but she couldn't, knowing who Bad had been once. What he had done for her. 

Thoughts of opposing sides swirled and twisted around her mind in a whirlwind as almost as fast as she imagined Avian's, like Phil, flew.

"It is wonderful to see you too." It was only half a lie that spilled out of her mouth.  

"I was wondering…" He paused, eyes flashing a pure white before returning to a red similar in shade to the color of his home. "If you would do it now."

"No."

"But Niki, we miss you!"

She almost laughed.

"I-" She had no words to say to him that would ever truly make him understand. 

"I'm no daemon." He was.

"But you are a demon."

"Not anymore." The single color orbs that were his eyes widened.

"You-you stole the offer." No emotion splayed on his  face, instead choosing to reside in his voice.

"I claimed it. I didn't steal." Like there was a difference to him.

"You took it from the temple without permission. It was stealing." Just as she expected, Bad still believed it to be thievery. 

"What the fuck." Tommy interrupted, having been invested in their conversation and confused by many of the words being passed between the two. 

"Language! Tommy, please let us have this conversation privately."

"But‐"

"Please?"

He grumbled under his breath but ended up respecting Bad's wishes, walking away with Wilbur squawking loudly on his arm. 

"Why did you do this to yourself?" Bad resumed the conversation.

"Because I hated it. I wanted to not be feared, I wanted to have non sadistic friends. Friends who didn't enjoy massacres." Bad stayed silent. "Being a demon sucked for me."

"How?"

"I told you."

"But the occasional massacre isn't that bad?" He didn't understand, he would never understand.

"Just respect my choice. You don't have to understand, just stop bothering me about it."

"As the daughter of the-"

"I should have done it but what if I didn't want to? I would have been forced to if I didn't do what I did because Daemons are shit at caring about what non Daemons think."

"I- I care. I would have respected it-"

"Even if you did, the others wouldn't." 

"I'm sorry Niki."

"You don't have to apologize for the situation I was born into. It isn't like my birth is your fault." 

"I don't understand." He muttered. 'Why betray Him?"

"He gave it to me, it was hardly a betrayal."

"I- but-"

"I made a deal."

"Niki, you muffin-" His voice was drowned in sorrow. 

"I'm fully aware of what the costs are." She wished she wasn't. 

"Are you ready to lose that much just for this?" The ends of the darkness, not quite shaped like human hands, gestured at the village around them that had barely woken. One or two members ambled past them during their conversation, greeting Niki before going on with their day.

"Yes." She might have said yes, but she was still unsure if it was actually worth it.

"I wish I could say you could come back if you wanted to…" A thin line of white curved downwards beneath his two eyes. "But you made your choice, no matter what I think of it, I can't save you from your fate."

"Thank you. Thank you for listening. I'm sorry Bad." She wanted to say more, but the words were chained down in her mind, unable to escape. It is your fault. Fuck you. You might have saved me then, but you ended up dooming me in the end. You don't deserve a sorry.

They were stained in nastiness and her feelings. They were, to her, true.

"It's nice." Bad comments. "The village. It isn't the worst Overworld place I've seen. Would you mind giving me a tour?"

"Y'know, why not…"

"Thanks!" Bad seemed in a much more cheer infested mood. 

Oh how she wished to wipe that smile off his face.

Chapter Text

This world was quite different from his, it was much less stagnant compared to the usual docile nature of the nether.

Flowing streams, waltzing white blobs in a blue lake of roof water, buzz of mini flying creatures that tried to eat him, and chirps of hidden creatures all contributed to the feeling of alive and motion the overworld had.

His home world of fire was not a polar opposite, it wasn't completely frozen but it did have the aura of being more dead than the overworld was. Skeletons, animated blocks of magma, and floating collections of souls all had no need to breathe, or to do anything most of the living creatures could, further emphasizing the more dead atmosphere of the Nether. 

The plethora of life, and sound was amazing to his ghast ruined ears. The horrid amalgamations that were the beasts made the worst but only sound besides the quiet bubbling of lava, occasional rattling of bones whenever the city he had resided in had been attacked, and snorts of most often disagreement and prayers. The worst part was the volume of the tortured screetches, drowing out the more pleasurable sounds that wern't trying to make him deft.

He had yet to get used to them even after ten years of life in the pit of what the overworlds who could access it called hell.

Yet, there wasn't any beast who could even make a sound even similar to the horrid nature of ghasts. Or not any that he had discovered yet.

This world was beautiful, it shared some of the reds, yellows,and blacks of the nether but also had much more variety with frequent green ground, a color shifting thing called the sky, and random pops of color from plants that someone informed the curious boy to be flowers. 

He was fascinated by the world itself, from the much cooler templates, to the lack of an impervious roof.

His questions went unasked and unanswered for his first day, after witnessing the gruesome mess that was his welcome to, in his blasphemous opinion, the better of the two worlds. 

He wandered aimsley, starving from lack of food and inability to kill the overworld equivalent of hoglins, alive sources of food, which seem to vary in shape, color, and size. The cute, two legged balls of fluff that could jump off cliffs without fear was the first he encountered and it took him by surprise. The more pinkish, shrunken version of hoglins were his favorite, lacking any aggression and looked cute instead of a beast out for his blood. 

He had no sword which to kill with or a willingness to extinguish such calm creatures that made no move to attack. 

The first night he had spent there had been quite a shock, the creatures he had deemed his new pets running once they saw a yellow ball be submerged beneath the horizon. The sky above, once a bright blue, had faded into a dark solid sheet of black with holes revealing something white beyond, yellows, oranges, and reds involved in the slow transition. 

He had been standing alone, surrounded by nothing but grass and trees, with his face, body, and mind all swamped with confusion. The world had been tinted in much darker shades than when creatures filled the valley he stood in, almost as if the world had been repainted by the leaving of the yellow circle. 

Then he saw the first of what he liked to call, Xpeds. Or explosions in the overworld tongue. It seemed to be a patchwork of green shades, containing the green of trees, grass, and flower stems. It even contained a few he had yet to come upon. 

It seemed to have a mouth and eyes made up of the same material that Techno thought to be a roof. Just three black pits of nothing, no white to interrupt. 

It seemed to be just as lost as Techno, wandering around with no apparent objective. 

It had just appeared of nowhere. Poofing into existence in front of his eyes, covered in remnants of a yellowish green material that seemed both wet and sticky when Techno had touched it. 

His curiosity almost led to death. He had to get close to the mysterious creature to touch the things it was shaking off like some Pigman who had just taken a lava bath. 

He waited for it to amble away a bit farther after the shaking of green had finished. Not risking it spotting him because the voices kept shouting at him to avoid the newly created thing the voices called a Creeper.

Creeper go explodey

Don't get close pls, I don't want to move again.

E

Stab it!

With what? 

Idk

Green thing bad. Very bad.

What even is it?

Pet it! It looks cute!

Don't! It's aggressive and ugly, things that would not make it a good pet.

Petting the creature is much better than having a chance at survival

"Bruh. Shut up. Please" He growled, as he crawled on his arms and knees, both being coated in a layer of slick brown that was even slicker upon reaching the area covered in fragments of discarded creation. He picked the green up, and saw it was slightly translucent, but nothing else of interest. Nothing about it being shiny enough to revive his currently dormant hoarding habits. He tried to get it off, but to his great frustration it refused to do it entirely, parts still clinging on after scraping the majority off. 

Then the creature, the creeper, turned around, voids shifting slightly down as if it was looking at him, sprawled on the ground covered with a green that refused to leave his skin. 

Something reminiscent of the hiss of flickering flames escaped the thing, it seemed to be some sort of warning for its soon detonation that occured only seconds later.

A blast of self destruction that destroyed a huge chuck of terrain and created a hole Techno's shirt also removing the fur under it. It also forced- no threw Techno a couple blocks from where he had formerly been standing. His face was another victim, the fur on it feeling a lot shorter and smelling of ash. The impact on the ground was probably the roughest that Techno had ever had, further impacted by a force that tried to have him travel farther but let Techno's body fall too soon, making the impact much greater as force ment for further travel was used to crash onto the ground. For a few seconds he was a ghast, horrid screams and no air to breath. 

His body hurt, left both sore and stinging from the explosion of the nasty beast that seemed to exist only to bring destruction upon others. Creepers were not an accurate enough name, they were more like living explosives- or Xpeds which was also a much easier name to pronounce, originating from a language built for those of his biology to speak. 

He wanted to get up, but unrelieved exhaustion and agony coursing through his body both served to prevent him from even trying.

He had escaped the violent hoard of invaders only to fall victim to a weird green thing. 

Idiot

E

It's your fault

It isn't. 

RIP 

Who wants to help me pack

Can't wait for another to join!

That isn't a good thing

E

/rainbowchat

The group of voices returned to the volume it was when he was still curious about the Xped. Once again mostly spamming E instead of saying anything of value.

He would have died that day, most likely, fallen victim to some other mob due to his fallen statue-like state. He didn't, someone found him and took pity on the ten year old and carried him home.

The next time he woke up, after falling out of consciousness due to pain, was in that kind person's house, who explained to him what happened.

They kicked him out the next day, giving him healing potions, a explanation of the world, food, and a excuse about how xenophobic the village was in order to get him to leave.

Techno didn't protest, they had done enough for him already by saving his life.

Chat disagreed with him, spamming a three letter word more than E for hours after leaving.

Sus

Sus

Sus

He repeatedly pleaded for them to be quiet, yet they refused and he had to deal with them at max volume until his next encounter which was with someone who claimed to know him yet Techno had no knowledge of him.