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"Oh, well that's not fair!"
"Well, my bad Cleo! But it's not exactly like I can control what I can and can’t remember," Scott exclaimed exasperated after being bombarded by questions for the last thirty minutes.
Players are not supposed to remember previous games—some don't believe they even exist in the first place—but Scott realized he had memories from far beyond his spawn at the beginning of this game. At first, he thought it was a dream or his imagination playing against him, but those have never compared to the longing that memories come with.
Cleo continued chopping down a tree she had procrastinated on since Scott told her about his memories. She had been asking nonstop questions about the last games. They interrogated him about previous game rules, forgotten game strategies, their friends, their enemies, the bad moments, and the good moments, but Scott's answers seemed to be too limited for their satisfaction. It’s not like Scott was purposely hiding anything from her; his memories were just too blurry for the specific answers she wanted. After a moment of comfortable silence, Cleo put the chopped wood in her inventory bag and asked, "What the hell do you remember then?"
He remembered a valley of flowers, a lake, and two wooden bases across each other. A simple wheat farm by the lake stood next to sheep and chickens in their respective fenced areas. Faint sounds of cows echoed from a sealed cave. Stones and lilypads on the lake connected builds of the large territory. Open, free, and vulnerable, if it wasn't for the mountains surrounding them. Large mountains were reinforced by walls to protect the beauty and innocence residing inside.
He remembered teary smiley eyes focusing on his as amateur-made gold rings were exchanged. Improvised vows carried an uncertainty on how genuine these promises were, but their soft lips against each other were as honest as one could be. It was a wedding with no guests, a celebration for just the two of them. Two bright green souls promising a lifetime of love, as short as it may be.
He remembered the shudder down his spine as he witnessed his lover die for the second time in a day. He tried to portray a calm stature around others, but he walked noticeably faster than the rest to find his husband. His tense body relaxed as soon as he saw him and rushed to plant a deep kiss on his lips as if it could be their last. He threw lighthearted jokes to uplift his husband's spirit, but he settled for a few bittersweet smiles as a response. His lover's red eyes were facing down, upset and ashamed—but he was there. As long as he was there, there could be hope in a death game.
He remembered the taste of sweet and dry cake in his mouth. His husband slumped on the wall as he bit down the pastry he was sure would kill him a minute ago. Their giggles infected the room in the aftermath of a prank that his husband falsely claimed was not funny. There was a brief moment in which war was not on their mind, as they enjoyed the simplicity of sharing a sugar cake with the love of your life. He wondered if there was a universe in which the pair did not have to rush their feast to meet their allies to prepare for war.
He remembered warm sand from the sun and exploded gunpowder around them contrasting with the cold dead body in his arms. Tears down his face fell on his lover's hair as he was cradling him, trying his best to avoid touching the arrow piercing his neck. His husband rested peacefully with closed eyes as if he had simply decided to sleep soundly on a pool of blood. A war ally was orbiting his mourning gathering the few resources left on the bunker, avoiding his gaze but throwing apologetic glances towards him every once in a while. There was a relief that at least the kindest soul in this universe would no longer be corrupted by this ruthless game.
He remembered a sharp blade against his back followed by serenity. The quiet gray-scaled version of this world made it feel so foreign, but he knew exactly which path to take. He approached the walls and noticed they were finished—as beautiful outside as inside. He entered without checking for traps or looking behind his back for an ambush. On the other side of the lake, he saw sunshine reflecting on blonde hair. His lover ran towards him as fast as he could without trampling the flowers, exclaiming about him taking too long to arrive. As his husband approached him, the color came back to the world, becoming more vibrant with each step he took. Scott looked at the man’s bright eyes and hesitantly asked with two words that meant a thousand questions, “It’s home?” His lover held his hand and smiled softly at him as he replied—
"Home," Scott answered Cleo's question, looking at nowhere in particular on the horizon. He picked up his bag and started heading back to the base alongside them. Cleo did not ask any more questions about it for the rest of the game.