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The wind rustled playfully over the dunes, picking up dead bushes as it went on its way to send chills across Scar’s skin. He was laying on his back, eyes watching the stars as they twinkled. Grian next to him kept shifting about, probably uncomfortable in his shirt—the perks of always being shirtless continued to grow!
Lots had happened in only a few days. Several yellow names cluttered the server, and Scar… well. He didn’t want to talk about it. What mattered was that Grian hadn’t up and left him.
Nonetheless, his heart felt heavy in his chest. Or… was it his soul? He didn’t know what made players tick, what gave him these chances at life in this strange world Grian had created for them.
That, of course, raised the question: What happened when they ran out?
He kept his gaze staring straight upwards as he asked it out loud: “What do you think happens after we die?”
Grian’s restlessness stilled, and he could feel his gaze on him without turning to look. “You go into spectator mode,” he answered.
He swatted a hand vaguely in Grian’s direction, making contact with his arm. “Not the stupid admin answer, Grian.” He rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow so he could actually look at him. “What happens to us? What happens when the last player dies?”
Grian blinked a few times, opening and closing his mouth, before turning his head away. “We restart,” he replied, barely audible above the desert winds. “After the last player dies, the world resets, and we do it all again.”
Really? That was the big secret that wasn’t worth looking at him over? He sat up more, leaning over Grian; he wasn’t getting away from him that easy.
Grian scoffed. “You’re not see-through, idiot.”
He scrunched up his nose, and he was almost tempted to smack him again. “I’m trying to be serious for once, Grian!”
That caught his attention, and Grian locked eyes with him. But now that he had his undivided attention… he forgot what he was going to ask. Grian was staring up at him, and the longer they sat there in silence, the more awkward it got. At least it was a moment spent with his best friend, and the way things were panning out, he didn’t think they’d get a lot more moments together in this world.
“Be honest with me,” he started, a question finally coming to him. “Do you think we’ll be friends in the next iteration of this world?”
Grian’s face dropped, the curious light leaving his eyes. That on its own was answer enough, but to confirm it, he whispered, “I don’t know.”
Scar laid back down—a little closer to Grian than he’d been before, but if he was uncomfortable he could scooch away. Grian stayed still, and Scar wished he knew what went on behind his soulless, beady eyes.
“I think we will be,” he offered, “I think fate will be kind to us.”
He cautiously wrapped an arm around Grian’s waist, hoping to offer some form of comfort as he fell still.
“Don’t say that,” Grian hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”
Scar pulled him closer, and he was glad Grian didn’t fight it. From the way he was breathing hard, it sounded like he needed a good hug, and who better than his very muscular best friend?
“I mean, we’re friends on every other server we’re in, so why not this one?”
Grian fell silent, which only led Scar’s mind to more questions. Had he already lived this world before? Did he know something about their fates that he didn’t? Well, when words failed, Scar liked to think actions spoke infinitely more, and Grian was completely relaxed in his arms.
If he focused, he swore he could feel his heart beat in time with Grian’s, but maybe that was his head playing tricks on him.
“Scar, are you looking at me?”
“Yup!” he chirped, gaze flickering between Grian and the positively adorable Jellie pandas that were nudging at his feet. This was the best day of his life! Who needed a soulmate when he had big fluffy Jellies to cuddle with?
Something crashed over his shoulders, and he winced.
Grian groaned—he’d been looking at the Jellies at that moment.
“Scar!” he squawked, “Look at me!”
Scar fumbled his words. “But look at them, aren’t they adorable?”
He looked back at Grian, and his face was red and scrunched up. “Ugh—yes, yes they’re adorable, now look at me.”
He sighed, but did as told, locking his eyes with Grian’s.
“Are you looking at me?” he asked again, and Scar nodded.
Grian placed dripstone over his head, and then it came crashing over his shoulders. In the same moment he felt the stone shatter over him, he saw Grian wince.
“Oh,” he muttered.
The residual pain felt a lot like boney fists pummeling him into the sand; it didn’t help that Grian wore the same expression of anguish and exhaustion that he’d had that day.
“Oh, oh my god.”
He should’ve figured it out earlier. Had Grian known the whole time and didn’t tell him?! Or was Scar just an idiot who couldn’t put two and two together? He slowly moved forward, hands finding themselves at home around Grian’s waist.
“I’m… I’m glad we can be friends again,” he murmured, resting his head on top of Grian’s. “I missed you.”
Grian was shaking in his arms, and Scar wished he could apologize. Apologize for first dragging him into this mess a year ago, apologize for tempting fate, apologize for everything he had no control over.
He felt their hearts beat in time. He held Grian a little tighter to mask the shake in his arms.
“Get off me,” Grian hissed, and he did as told.
This was going to be a long journey.