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Chapter Text

Falling through the void was an experience Eighty was familiar with- You had to fall and become weightless for a few moments before your world went pitch-dark and you respawned back into the resource generator, legs wobbly and weak. That was how Bedwars worked, painless, quick and easy. But nothing would ever make you forget the first time you fall into the void, vertigo spinning and warping your vision and colours rushing past your face at high speeds, heart rising in your chest, pounding through your head.

Now, for Eighty, it was like a habit. Doing a jump off the edge, or slowly leaning forward until gravity pulled him off the island, into the void below. Black and white hair whipped around his face, wind brushing against his cheeks- Until the feeling stopped, and he had solid ground beneath his feet. It could be disorientating, sure, but you could rely on the fact that it wasn’t a perma-death and the comfort and safety that came from that thought.

Eighty wondered if Chaz’s mind wandered like this, watching him speedbridge from the corner of his eye. The two were playing nicked doubles, as they usually did, but Eighty could easily see through his nick to see his golden-haired friend underneath, just like he knew that Chaz would catch a flicker of scarlet and yellow eyes in the glint of light. After buying some wool from the shopkeeper, Eighty took a few steps over towards the bed, taking his time to stretch out his limbs. This was their first game of the day, and Eighty hadn’t actually warmed up- This was the warmup, and he hadn’t played in a while. He knew Chaz had played with the others yesterday, but Eighty ditched the meetup to spend time at home with his pets and to avoid social interaction. Spreading his palm wide, he flicked his sword, a short blade appearing in his hand, only made out of a rickety wood, but it would suffice.

He swapped out the sword for wool, and began to expertly place over a bed defence, securing their bed’s safety, making causal chat to Chaz through the communicators, a device in their ears that allowed them to speak and contact each other, even across the map or from falling in the void. It was akin to headphones, or earplugs, but was steadily sitting there and wouldn’t fall out, even if you got slapped across the face with a knockback stick- Which, believe me, was a lot of force. 

“Did you know I’ve slept in one of these before? Game was going on too long.” Eighty causally spoke, in his more monotone voice. It sounded like he was talking to himself, a mad man wandering alone, but a moment later, the communicator in his ear crackled to life. “Oh, really? Was it comfy?” Came the half-hearted, amused response. Eighty could practically hear the smile in Chazm’s voice, looking over to watch the other jump off the bridge he made to the diamond islands, landing in a roll against the wood. The two were playing on Airshow, a common map that they both could clean up and clear pretty quickly. He watched as Chaz began to speedbridge adjacent, placing blocks one after the other. Eighty began to run to the bridge, hopping up, chuckling. “Yeah, enemy teams can’t actually break your bed if you’re sleeping in it.” Eighty responded, a serious tone in his voice as he easily walked over the pink wool under his feet, doing his hardest to not let his gaze drop down and into the darkening blue gradient of a void below. He hopped off, placing wool underneath him to soften his fall, not feeling any pain as he landed cleanly, and began to follow. 

“Wow, I’ll have to try it- Oh, crap, I’m out of wool, went too early-'' Came the sheepish response, although Eighty was in close enough vicinity to hear it from Chaz’s actual mouth, and not through the tiny speaker in his ear. The two worked in tandem, like clockwork, and Eighty easily took over bridging as Chazm stayed close behind, clenching his sword between two white-knuckled fists.

Leaping off when he deemed close enough, Eighty spun midair so he was behind the two players guarding their bed- To his dismay, there was already wood placed down, although the Hot Dog bed defence wasn’t entirely complete. Smacking the two players with his sword as he lunged forward, he watched as one of them went flying off the edge, their mouth open in shock and surprise as suddenly the ground was gone from below them, and they plummeted into the void. He could hear the sound of wood breaking as Chaz thwacked his sword against it, trying to split open the planks. 

The other player, however, much to Eighty’s frustration, did not take as much knockback, and managed to save their balance, and stop themselves from falling off the edge, jumping forward in an offensive attack, a stone sword outstretched. Eighty grunted about stupid Hypixel KB mechanics as it collided with his arm that he brought up to block, swiping with the wooden weapon he held onto, and spiking it against the stomach of the player. They stumbled back in surprise, and the dual-haired man took it as his chance to raise his leg up, slamming his sneaker into their chest and sending them flinging back, joining their teammate as they fell in the void. Two dings sounded in the back of his mind, indicating how the void had swallowed them. 

5

Eighty counted down in his head, a reddening, harsh bruise forming on his forearm, listening to Chaz huff as wood finally splintered under the other’s wooden blade, and crouching down. “Ugh- Why does wood take so long to break!”

4

Eighty trained his eyes forward, to the generator. He wouldn’t be as dumb as to run in whilst they were in the gen- That was for losers, and Eighty was smarter than that.

3

“There!”

A roar of a dragon cried out from behind him, echoing around the Bedwars arena as Chaz stabbed his own wooden sword, the fighting and holding style a little different than Eighty’s own, through the bed, and it shattered into pieces before disappearing with a huff of smoke under the hefty defence. Chazm’s stance was the slightest bit more firm and aggressive.

2

A scattering of footsteps against wood joined him in an instant, a shoulder bumping lightly against his own as Eighty breathed out, watching as two figures began to reform in the generator, irons and golds that had spawned beginning to shift towards the shadows, like a magnet attracted metal.

1

The two players popped into existence, one of them immediately charging at Eighty and Chaz- The same one who had aggressively struck him with their stone sword, Eighty noted, and he easily knocked them to the side, slamming the wooden shaft of his blade across their face, nudging them towards Chaz, who ducked a strike and engaged in combat with the newly respawned. 

Meanwhile, the other had attempted to rush to the shopkeeper, a very surprised looking zombie NPC, and Eighty ran towards them. “Dude- That’s just rude!” Eighty commented as the wooden sword they held switched to a stone one, spinning around to defend as Eighty was upon them. Eighty barreled strike after strike, the other player hardly managing a hit on him, before their respective enemies disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Eighty watched as their iron and gold burst around them, and glanced over to see Chazm also picking up the remaining resources, rolling his shoulders. “Good warmup,” Chaz noted, catching Eighty’s eye. “Did you really have to go with the hoodie though?” Chaz raised an eyebrow, tilting his gaze down to not-so subtly scan Eighty’s nick. 

He let out a scoff of indignance, walking to the shopkeeper to pull up the shop, scanning over the slots of items he could buy as he mindlessly responded. “What do you mean! It’s a nice hoodie.” Eighty exclaimed. Currently, the Bedwars superstar donned a red hoodie with a tiny white tick logo on the left breast, as well as some causal black fleece sweatpants with two white stripes going down the sides, donned with the usual grey sneakers that he wore with every nick- If there was one surefire way to catch THE gamerboy80, it would be via his tacky shoes. 

He heard Chaz laugh as the other man went into the generator, iron and gold being drawn to the man. Eighty swiped his hand to get the menu of the shopkeeper to disperse, eyeing Chaz. “Is it the brand?” Lo and behold, underneath the tiny tick was, in small lettering, the word, “Noke”. Eighty grinned, clearly proud of it, as Chazm gleefully, light-heartedly rolled his eyes. “Y’know what? It is a nice hoodie, Eighty, you should be proud of yourself.” Chaz spoke. 

To a normal listener, it would be near-impossible to distinguish any sound of sincerity from that sarcastic tone. But Eighty, the one who had taught his best friend these sarcastic words and tones, knew better. A smile came to his face as he leapt over the remaining bed defence and made his way onto the beginning on the bridge that the team they wiped out had failed in finishing, hopping up and placing blocks beneath him. 

When he was high enough, Eighty reached his hands out and wrapped them around the pink wool above, that he had built to drop down, and swung himself on top of it, hearing Chazm complain at the fact that he had to build to reach the bridge, as the other man exited the inside of the ship, Eighty was ignoring the quieting huffs as he walked to the diamond gem and lifted the slightly glowing, aqua crystals in his hand. 3. He could tell there were only a few more seconds to wait around for another, so Eighty sat there until another one appeared, this one resting in the palms of his hands.

Eighty felt the slight weight in his hands, watching the shimmering gems, before his shoulders tensed at the noise of heavy footsteps. He looked up, some white and black strands covering over his eyes as he noticed an enemy player sprinting towards them, holding a stone sword with a faint shimmer to it- Sharpness, Eighty noticed in a dull thought. The sharp, pointy stone sword seemed a lot more menacing, and Eighty barely had time to raise his own wooden weapon to block, ducking down and placing some blocks in between him and his assailant, making them knock into the pink wool and stagger as Eighty gained some distance, fixing his hold on his sword and narrowing his eyes. 

The attacker immediately regretted trying to hit Eighty- As the bedwars player swiped his sword left and right, faster than the enemy could realise, stumbling back and swinging blindly. A sharp cut left beads of red blood dribbling down his pale cheek, and Eighty kicked his foot out, and knocked the player across the face with the hilt of his weapon, using the momentum to push them over the edge of the wooden platform and into the void. It gave him time to build up to the balloons, leaping and landing a little bit awkwardly, wincing as his ankle complained as he twisted it slightly, but shoved the quickly-fading pain away.

“You good, Eighty?” Chaz questioned, walking up- He had only been a few steps behind, just getting to the diamond gen when he saw Eighty be thwacked. “I’m fine,” Eighty easily replied, before furrowing his brows and squinting towards the middle of the map. “They already have sharp, and control over mid!” He complained. Another team had taken out their first rush- And they were barely two minutes into the game. Well, that simply couldn’t be. Chazm gave a rather dramatic gasp by his side and Eighty had to stifle the growing, warm smile at the theatrical noise.

“Control over mid?? Before us!?” Chazm clicked his tongue, and spun his sword around his fingers, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Well, you know what that means.” Chaz murmured, and Eighty was- enraptured by the fierce look in Chazm’s eyes, the determination in his glare, the passion in those glittering eyes. But before his thoughts got filled with golden stars sinking into his mind, he clenched a hand over the diamonds, the cool feeling of their weight in his hand grounding. “You go for a round on mid, try to get some ems, and I’ll buy us some sharp.” 

After seeing the other team, who would obviously be their main threat, even if they were across the map of blimps and wooden platforms that hoisted themselves over the void, having sharp before them? Well, that would be a pain to have to stitch up those cuts afterwards. Chaz nodded, before turning and using some extra wool he had brought to start bridging to mid, as Eighty hopped up onto the bridge connecting the diamond generator to their base island, and returned to their base island to spend some of the diamonds in his pocket. It wasn’t long before he heard over the comms,

“Aww, man, the ems are all gone!” The complaint rang through Eighty’s mind. He tried to not get too caught up in Chazm’s voice- Wanting to compare it to honey, sweet and sticking in Eighty’s mind. He couldn’t get enough. Or maybe sunshine, brightening up his gloomier storms. Eighty replied with a teasing chuckle, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face. 

“You should’ve been a bit faster.” Eighty responded, receiving an annoyed huff as Chazm leapt from one middle platform to the other. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe they invis’d and stole all the ems before I could see them.” Chazm replied, and Eighty hummed non-committedly. He wasn’t entirely paying attention to what Chazm was saying, moreso the words and how they sounded on his tongue. 

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, and- Oh- oh!” Chazm made a noise of surprise, and it made Eighty falter in his movements. A ding rang out, and Eighty pressed a button on the side of one of his gloves, which then showed on his wrist the basic info of the player list in the current game, as well as the map, amount of kills, and the health everyone was on. He watched rapidly as a green player took some damage, before healing- Must’ve just jumped off a bridge. Then, he spotted a blue player and pink- Chazm, both taking damage, clearly locked in a fight. When he peered his head out of the main base, by the shopkeeper, he could faintly see two figures fighting in the middle, the tophat a dead giveaway for Chazm’s body. 

Eighty looked away as Chaz collapsed, before disappearing, staring at the shopkeeper. The team shopkeeper looked back, a slight scowl on its face. The NPC just wanted the diamonds. Numbly, Eighty handed the diamonds over. It was just a game, Chazm was fine, and was spawning back in the gen in three, two, one-

A gasp, and Eighty pressed onto the sharpness option. The blades by their sides were suddenly a lot sharper, able to cut like a knife through hot butter, and in his peripheral vision, Eighty watched Chazm lean heavily on the back of the gen, putting more weight on his left leg. Though there were no injuries, Eighty assumed the blow that killed Chaz was on his right leg, and even though Chazm tried to not show his pain, the grimace on his face made Eighty’s heart ache. Crap- He could’ve been there-

“Hey- woah! Eighty!” Chazm called out, eyes fixed on something behind him. The blue player who had just done such a rude job of slaughtering Chaz in a fight was now building up from their bridge in a staircase-like pattern. Eighty spun around- His mind distracted by golden hair and golden eyes, stumbling over to his ender chest and the normal material shopkeeper, keeping one eye on the player as his hand blindly pressed forward.

A fireball appeared in his hand. Chazm had already sprinted out, to start climbing onto the bed defence to get a better look at where the blue player was. Strangely enough, the player had stopped, staring down at the two, almost like they were taunting the pair. But Eighty’s keen, multi-coloured eyes spotted two things.

“He has TNT- but no more blocks.” Eighty murmured, almost under his breath, but well aware that it would pick up. Chaz didn’t even glance back as Eighty strode up behind him. He closed one eye, before lobbing the fireball right as the enemy player struck the TNT and dropped the dynamite down onto their bed defence. 

Two explosions happened at once. The fireball collided with the scrawny little bridge that blue had made, sending the player flying up into the air, arms flailing around in attempts to gain some balance. The stick of TNT he had dropped sent pieces of wool flying about, completely decimating their bed defence and leaving their bed open. Both Eighty and Chaz got to work, swiftly placing blocks wherever they could to cover up the vulnerable bed, as the blue player began falling. 

A sharp crack sounded next to Eighty, the player only a few blocks away and making a beeline dive towards the bed, to stab their sword into pink sheets, but Eighty leapt forward, extending his sword, to dig it into their side. Their mouth opened into a muffled scream- before disappearing, sword clattering to the ground, before it dissipated in a puff of smoke. Eighty skidded slightly on the wooden planks, careful to catch his balance before he fell off the edge, eyes wide-

Warmth enveloped his hand. Eighty looked back, hair wild and shoulders rising up and down as he breathed heavily, Chazm grinning confidently over at him. Eighty’s heart beat in his chest so hard he could feel it in his ears- But it wasn’t because of the enemy player, or because of the strenuous physical movement- No, no.

It was the soft, reassuring smile that Chaz shot him. The slight way his eyes squeezed shut in a joyful grin. “Nice, that was a good hit!” Chaz complimented, and Eighty felt that if the world stopped now, or if their bed got broken, he’d be happy with feeling Chazm’s soft palm grasping his own, roughened and calloused hand. How the jazz-lover managed to keep his hands soft after hours of Skywars, piano, and Bedwars bridging, Eighty would never know. 

After a moment too long, Chazm let go and Eighty felt like he was about to start falling again. He watched as Chazm turned away, to go buy more wool, pressing his button to bring up the overlay menu on his wrist, brows furrowing. “So, it looks like blue is fighting with grey- But yellow doesn’t seem to be doing much, do we wanna try to get them out and let blue and grey finish their fights?” Chazm asked, and Eighty nodded, before remembering that Chazm wasn’t actually watching him. 

“Sure, sounds good.” Eighty walked over to him, to collect more resources, iron and gold drifting closer to him like magnetism. Lately, the golden-haired man had been taking a lot more control and direction within their doubles’ games, and… Well, Eighty wished he could say that he minded. But in all honesty, he didn’t. He enjoyed how determined and passionate that Chazm could get, how focused that glimmer in his eyes could get. It was like a dream, a warm feeling that Eighty soaked in at night, that kept him up, dreaming of the things that could be. 

How much more a sap could he be ?

Eighty brought a hefty amount of wool, and some tools as well, so it would be easier to break any opposing beds, swinging the pickaxe around slightly, before clipping both the pickaxe, as well as a somewhat blunt wooden axe to his utility belt. Man, he was drawing the short end of the straw here, but at least it would be quicker than smacking wood apart with his sword.

Chaz stood by the edge of the island, squinting towards yellow, watching them stick at their base. One of them ran onto their bridge, the one that connected their island to the diamond platform in front, and Eighty watched as Chaz closed an eye, and hovering just over his hand was a fireball. Chazm aimed, before lobbing it. Usually, Eighty didn’t like fireballs- Unless, of course, he or his teammate were the ones using them. It was always fun to throw a fireball- Eighty would compare it to a baseball, except instead of being hit by a bat and scoring a home run, you just blew them up. Eighty watched as the fireball hit only a block in front of the player running across to diamonds, and sent the poor player flying up into the air, their arms flailing weakly, before they dropped down into the void and a small death message showed in the chat.

Chaz fistbumped, and hopped onto their bridge, running towards mid as Eighty bit back laughter at Chazm’s celebratory shenanigans, and carried on following the other man. The two traversed quietly, jumping onto the balloons and landing in a roll- However, Chazm seemed to miss his jump, and slipped just short-

Eighty’s breath caught in his throat as he leapt down as Chaz landed awkwardly, and began to fall backwards, red and yellow eyes wide with fear, reaching out and grabbing Chazm’s shirt, and pulling him onto the centre part of the balloon, grasping the shirt tight enough to cause creases. Chazm blinked, barely having registered what happened, but he looked up at Eighty with bright eyes, reminding Eighty of molten gold- Though the riches didn’t hold a coin to the joy that Chazm made Eighty feel when he smiled. “Thanks, man!”

And Chazm was off again, and by the time Eighty turned around, he was already staircasing upwards towards the remnants of the blown-up bridge. Yellow hadn’t repaired it just yet, and Eighty took a moment to glance over at their bed defence. Endstone, wood, and wool- With a bit of blast proof glass beginning to be planted over it. Luckily, the glass was barely over, so Eighty had plenty of entrances. Having a TNT would’ve been handy, but he just had to trust that Chazm could hold off the offenders in time for Eighty to break the bed apart. The two toed the line of the bridge that Chazm had made, and Chazm continued bridging until they were over the bed defence. 

One player, clad in yellow-tinted chainmail armour, climbed onto the bed defence, attempting to leap and swing his iron sword towards their ankles- Both Eighty and Chazm jumped up, before the iron sword stuck into the wool, leaving the player hanging there briefly, blinking up at the two. Laughing quietly, Chazm stomped his foot on the block of wool, making the player fall and tumble off their bed defence. Even Eighty gave a slight snicker as the player rubbed their arm. 

“You ready?” Eighty asked quietly as Chazm watched their movements. The other player had just headed back into the shop, and Eighty had his blocks in one hand and pickaxe grasped tightly in the other. Chazm took a breath- Grounding himself. Eighty peered down at the spot he planned to break in, destroy one piece of wool, box himself in and get to dismantling. With a silent step forward into nothing, Chazm dropped down, smacking their chainmail-clad friend, sweeping their legs out from under them and sending them off the edge. Their buddy, from in the gen, was alerted, and Eighty dropped down quietly to the other side, keeping his head down as he tore wool apart, Soon enough, he managed to place his own wool around him, caging himself in, as he focused on hitting the endstone apart with the pickaxe, tearing through the white, rough stone. 

“Eighty, you almost got it??” Chaz yelled out, and his voice sounded almost like he was underwater- Being encased in wool seemed to have that muffling effect. Eighty felt the stone break, and moved onto the axe, splintering the wood and tearing it, before he managed to break it. “Yeah, one moment-” He called in return, as he broke the bed.

“Woah- wooa-!” A yell of slight alarm cut off suddenly, and Eighty hissed out, noticing the small message. Chaz had gotten killed. Eighty sat in his little boxed area, sighing. Both yellow were alive, one of them remarkably low and the other having recently respawned. He was a bit peeved at the fact that they had killed Chaz- But at least Chazm could go and get better armour now. Eighty punched his way out of the wool, leaping onto the bed defence.

One of the yellows, the one who had tripped earlier, was quivering in the generator, as the other was busy shopping. Eighty brandished his sword, and leapt forward towards the one who trembled. Eighty managed to cut them down in three strong swings of his sword, and collected up the resources that they dropped. Before causally sauntering up to the shopkeeper to start to buy a fireball. The other enemy player was too caught up in his shopping spree to realise how Eighty stood directly next to him. Eighty glanced at the yellow player from his peripheral vision, waiting to be noticed-

When the player spun around, Eighty tripped them up and sliced his blade cleanly through, hearing the satisfying ding as the message of yellow team has been eliminated rang through everyone’s communicators. He wondered if Chaz glanced down at his communicator, saw the message, and smiled. 

“Nice job!” Speaking of the devil, his voice rang over the communicators, right in Eighty’s ear. It almost sounded like Chazm was directly behind him, and he could imagine the phantom feeling as Chaz wrapping his arms around Eighty’s middle, resting his chin on his shoulder and nose tickling his neck, as he smiled. Eighty breathed out, a hint of shakiness to it. Worry about these thoughts later, focus on winning the game for now. 

“-if you manage to jump-invis in and break the bed-” Eighty blinked back into reality. He had been dumbly standing in front of the shopkeeper, who raised an eyebrow at his antics. He waved his hand, clearing the shop holographic screen and heading back over to the bridge. “Say that again?” He asked, too sheepish to properly admit that he had been completely zoning out to Chaz’s voice, unable to comprehend the words he spoke.

Eighty climbed up onto the bridge, having to build up to reach the way they used to get to the island, and sprinted over it, listening to Chazm’s words. “I managed to grab some ems, and I think they just regenerated, so if you wanna head to the base next to grey, I’ll meet you there and we can double team grey, if you wanna jump-invis, because you’re quicker with blocking in. So, you break the bed, and I’ll distract them, and then we win!” 

Placing a block under him, leaping and clutching on the side, Eighty began to run to mid to collect up the emeralds, building over some blue wool already there and pulling himself up onto the wooden platforms. They were slightly slippery, but he realised it was his hands which were slippery- Slick with sweat. His heart was beating, racing even. He couldn’t pinpoint why, what was so intense. He was playing on Airshow , for god’s sake! What in the world could be so intense about it? Make his heart drop? 

He was at the base next to the grey base before he realised it, green emeralds shining in his hand. Chaz had been waiting for him. If he peered over at grey, he could see that one of the enemies was camped by the edge of the bridge, holding tightly onto a glowing bow- Whether it was enchanted with Power or Punch, the two men were unsure of. They had more emeralds than was initially thought, so they put their riches together to buy a jump, speed and invis for Eighty, as well as a bridge egg that Chaz held in his hand lightly. Eighty was standing on the diamond gen, crouched behind a stack of blocks, trying to not be spotted. Chaz looked over at him, and Eighty could just barely see the other man, standing by the edge of the island. The archer from the other team was holding the bow, ready to shoot at Chaz. 

“Ready?” Chaz asked. Eighty breathed out. They would be tricking the enemy into thinking that Chaz was the only one attempting to attack them, while Eighty would sneak in invisible. “Yeah, man,” Eighty’s voice sounded light. “I’m ready.”

Chazm smiled to himself at Eighty’s voice, not as monotone as usual- It would be harder for others to notice, but Chaz could tell. He lobbed the egg, watching it crack and grow, almost akin to foam spreading and expanding, as wool formed in a slightly skewed, messy wool bridge, following the arc of the projectile. The enemy player began to shoot as their teammate ran onto the newly formed bridge, Chaz leaping up to run across. Eighty chugged all three pots, and leapt onto the main bridge, jumping and rushing around as Chazm tried to draw as much attention away as possible- it almost looked like he was running in blindly. Eighty glanced over as he heard Chaz let out a grunt from across the communicator. Chaz had been shot with the arrow, and lo and behold, it had been punch. Eighty felt his heart stop briefly- If Chaz died, it would take longer to get the bed, no real big deal- But Chaz didn’t fall. Placing two blocks, he landed cleanly, his free hand reaching up to keep ahold of his top hat before it dropped into the ocean void below. Eighty continued across the bridge, landing silently on the wooden platform of the grey base, tearing his shears through the wool and surrounding himself in pink. Both players were still distracted with Chaz, who had now begun to clash swords with the player who ran onto the bridge as their partner attempted to bow Chaz down.

Palms clenched around the tools Eighty held as he broke into the bed. Luckily, it didn’t take too long, and he could feel footsteps above him- The archer must’ve noticed Eighty breaking the bed, but it was already too late. Eighty mined the bed, splitting it apart, as a grand roar of a dragon announced the breaking of the bed into the arena, before Eighty’s ears were overtaken by loud cheering. “Yes!! Yes, I knocked the guy off!” Chaz spoke through the communicators. Eighty opened his mouth to respond with a casual, quick, “Good job.” As he began to mine out, missing the cracks above him. In dropped the enemy, the two of them crushed in the claustrophobic space. The enemy was blindly stabbing at him, and actually managed to land some hits, sinking the sword in between EIghty’s armour plates as Eighty wrestled with him, landing some rather heavy and hard blows on the enemy- But Eighty could feel his vision fading, black curling over the edges of it.

And, as if an angelic, a holy saviour rescuing him, the enemy went limp and ragdoll against Eighty. Eighty breathed out heavily, spikes of pain through his stomach. A hand hovered in front of his face, and with a weak hand, Eighty reached his own up to clasp Chazm’s, who tugged  him from out of the hole he made in the bed defence. Victory rang through their communicators, and Eighty felt the magic toy stick clasp itself to his belt. They had won! Chaz didn’t seem to be too celebratory, moreso concerned over Eighty. He looked down, feeling the wet blood against his stomach.

Bedwars was a harder game than it was made out to be. You could feel every single hit, every wound, every stab- And it was excruciating, it wasn’t something Eighty thought he could ever get used to. But as soon as they respawned, as soon as they appeared back in the lobby, the wounds would be gone, and they'd be just dandy. 

They couldn’t get to the lobby soon enough. Eighty looked over, still seeing the body in the little hole. Why did it take so long to disappear? Dread grew heavy in Eighty’s chest, overshadowing the pain from his wounds. Something felt very, very wrong.

Chaz reached out, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s just respawn. Go home, yeah?” Chaz asked, able to sense Eighty’s hesitance and the clear way that he was in pain. The concern was evident in his voice, gentle. Chaz’s hand felt nice in his own, and Eighty squeezed lightly, focusing on the feeling of Chazm’s warm hand instead of the blood seeping from his gut, and as the body disappeared, shimmering away in a puff of smoke and fog, Eighty felt his vision grow darker and darker until eventually, it was completely pitch blank, inkinesss taking over his eyes.

When colour filled his vision, he blinked. There stood Chazm, his Hypixel cloak of fire wings sparking around him, and his tophat a little lopsided. Eighty felt his own cloak draped across his back, no longer in his nicked and disguised self, back to his casual grey jacket and void-black cloak with crimson and gold eyes blinking as the fabric flowed. There was a distinct throb of pain from his abdomen, before it faded. Currently, the lobby was empty- Whether they were brought into one from pure luck, or from Chazm taking them into an empty lobby, Eighty was grateful, since there would be no screaming fans, no “stans” jumping up and begging for screenies.

They’d be okay.

Eighty couldn’t stop the choking feeling of dread, but he pushed it away for now, sinking into the warmth of Chazm’s smile. He would be okay, they would be okay together.

“Maybe we just take a break for the rest of the day, yeah?” Chaz asked, no static background from the communicator. This was him, right in front of him, sunshine rays over his hands, his cheeks, his face. Eighty gave a weak laugh, and dipped his head into a nod, black and white hair fluffing slightly. 

“Yeah. Good idea.” Eighty affirmed, and Eighty watched as Chazm took out a small compass, the arrow spinning around, as swirls of white glitter surrounded them. All Eighty needed was a break, to rest on Chazm’s couch, take a nap. 

They would be okay.

Chapter Text

Really, it was a rude awakening, Eighty thought. See, the Bedwars star was just relaxing, lounging back on Chazm’s couch. He was just resting, Hypixel News absentmindedly playing in the background, mindless noise to entertain his subconscious, nothing really sticking with him. Some background noise playing from the television, a Hytale ad playing. Nothing really interested him aside from any momentous events, lucky plays, or competitions coming up. Yet, nothing struck Eighty’s fancy.

He could feel his eyes beginning to shut, slipping into the sweet grips of sleep. He was honestly rather exhausted- Although, since when was that new with Eighty? It always seemed like he constantly had bags under his eyes, and pale-white skin. Chazm was out, grinding some Skywars and duels, leaving Eighty to rest his body. His abdomen wasn’t aching anymore, luckily, but he still felt a dark, ugly feeling, gathering in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong- Something terrible was happening. It was just an instinct, but it made him feel sick. Utterly sick to the core. It wasn’t often that Eighty felt like this, but right now, bed-ridden, well, moreso couch-ridden, Eighty numbly watched the news. 

It was when, bursting through the door to the housing, was a boy in a purple hoodie, and a fluffy, light-blue humanoid bear, both laughing at the other, clearly deep in conversation. Eighty reached out for one of the throw pillows, carefully placing it atop of his face and laying still. The two walked further into the living room, chatting about some new Lunar accessories, and the latest gossip of the Bedwars block, and what this creator did, and who’s being cancelled- Honestly, Eighty’s head hurt just trying to keep up.

The couch was comfortable, and the throw pillow against his face was small, but light, so he could at least breathe, chest rising and falling as the voices faltered. “Yo, Purp.” Spoke a familiar voice, hardly hidden mirth evident in his tone. “Yeah, dude?” Answered his friend. Eighty could feel their eyes on him, but still stayed dead still. If he had to assume, Eighty guessed that they were a couple feet away, simply watching him. 

“D’ya think he’s asleep?” Purpled asked Wallibear, nudging the bear lightly, who snickered and nodded. Eighty had to stop his body from reacting with a chuckle- Something he was rather good at, keeping himself monotone. They thought he was asleep? Well, that was interesting. Eighty stayed still as he felt a finger prod at his arm, keeping his body limp. He stared at the cushion covering his face and eyes, blinking, feeling his eyelashes against the smoothness of the pillow cover. Very slowly, he felt a pressure on the pillow, shutting his eyes briefly as he felt it being lifted off his face. Opening his eyes again, he blinked at the sudden light, before looking up. 

The throw pillow was moved out of its way, and following its name, was thrown away with a surprised yelp. Walli had chucked the pillow away, it being sent flying towards the front door, and right at that moment, in walked a squid hybrid wearing a suit, with a cheerful grin. “Hey guys-!” He announced, before the pillow hit him smack-bang in the face. Whether it had been purposeful or not, Squid stumbled back in shock, letting out a cry of surprise.

Walli and Purpled had jumped back at the sight of seeing Eighty staring at them with red and yellow eyes- See, he was apparently something of an enigma within their little group. And this just added onto that shadow that Eighty was, how he lurked with a mysterious, cryptic atmosphere to him. So, in all honesty, Eighty couldn’t blame their reaction.

It didn’t stop it from being absolutely hilarious.

Eighty couldn’t help himself from causing a bit of playful mischief. He was only human, after all, and the reaction was pure gold. When Purpled and Wallibear had gotten over their miniature heart attacks, both poked at Eighty. “Why’d you do that, man?” “Not cool!” They complained, though Eighty could tell that neither were truly upset. It was the shock that took them off-guard, and both were embarrassed at the rather girlish screams that left their mouths.

As this happened, Squid laid on the ground. The pillow had rebounded off his face and landed a few feet away from him, but he was still reeling. It wasn’t the welcome that he was expecting, and he heard footsteps, and lifted his head up, listening as Purpled and Wallibear whined at Eighty. One SammyGreen stood above him and sent Squid a nod, reaching a hand out, which Squid took gratefully. “Oh, holy dooley! Ya’ alright, mate?” Asked Sammy as he tugged Squid up to his feet. 

Squid nodded in response, before looking over. Eighty watched them enter into Chazm’s house with a pretty blank expression. “Why are you here?” He questioned, voice barely over a murmur.

Purpled hopped onto the couch next to him, nudging at his legs until Eighty took them off and actually sat up, his hair a bit messy. Walli hopped up onto the armrest of the couch as Purpled crossed his legs, tugging at hoodie strings. “Oh! I messaged Chaz and he said we could all meet here or whatever, I had an idea for a new vid!” Purpled announced, which caught everyone’s attention. If Eighty was honest, he wasn’t all that keen for another video.

It was so much work, filming, talking to his audience- It was good content, he couldn’t deny that. Something to keep the people of Hypixel entertained, that was their jobs after all. Although Eighty just enjoyed playing Bedwars more than creating content, but it was really the only way to get a surefire career, besides, usually hanging out with the rest of Tiredtwt cheered him up. Maybe it would stifle the growing trepidation that had made its home in his chest.

All four of them had been sitting, eager and ready to hear what the idea was, but Purpled merely crossed his arms and leaned back, a cocky grin on his face, body relaxing into Chaz’s soft couch. “But I wanna say when everyone gets here- Astelic is picking up Chaz, I’m pretty sure.” Purpled explained, and Eighty nodded in understanding. Sammy huffed, clearly petulant that they couldn’t be told the idea just yet. The Aussie was constantly on board for ideas, enthusiastic. Eighty quite enjoyed playing with him.

And so, they drifted into a familiar routine, talking about their analytics of their recent video, or stream, or whatnot- Eighty didn’t pay too much attention to the conversation. For some reason, he couldn’t get one specific memory out of his mind, from the last match of Bedwars he played with Chaz.

How one of the players, after their bed was lost, and after Chaz took their last health, just collapsed. Like a ragdoll, limp and unmoving. A dead body, an empty corpse. It was disturbing, to say the least, and Eighty hadn’t been able to get the vision of it, cramped in the small hole, the feeling of it, still warm, flopping against him. That… Wasn’t how the mechanic worked. It was supposed to make them disappear immediately, Hypixel had been sure of that. For a multitude of reasons, mostly for censorship. God forbid such a disturbing sight would be caught on camera, on recording. 

Eighty wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be recording or not. But it took too long- When he told Chaz about his thoughts about it, the night after, when the two of them were laying in bed, Chazm had just chalked it up to some visual bug, or a glitch. Eighty had been laying there in the bed, even as Chaz had leaned over and fallen asleep, unable to get the memory of blood pooling around the body out of his mind. 

What if that body had been Chaz? Eighty didn’t know what he would’ve done if it had been Chaz, his heart would’ve stopped as well, not Chaz, please, anyone but-

“Eighty! Dude, you listening??” Snapping back into his mind, in reality, Eighty turned his head to the side. He must’ve been zoning out again. Something that had been common as of late. “Nah, man, I bet Eighty’s thinking about Chaaaz !” Called out a teasing, singsong voice. The three others began to coo and poke at Eighty, who was akin to an annoyed cat at that moment, sarcastically responding, “Oh, you know he’s just always on my mind.” Wallibear gave a gasp and pointed at Eighty. “You like Chaz!”

Everyone burst into chaos, as Eighty shifted towards the edge of the couch, pressing himself into it. “Of course I like him.” Eighty absentmindedly said. “He’s my best friend.” He ignored the voice in his mind, his heart screaming out to be more. Chaz wasn’t just his best friend, he was his second half, the absolute light of his life. 

Someone rested their forearms atop of Eighty’s head and he had to stop himself from thwacking them off. “You like him, romantically!” Sammy spoke. Ah, so that was who deemed him an armrest. Purpled had his eyes wide, like this was something he had never considered. Eighty’s ears were going red-hot with embarrassment.

“His ears are going red!!” A harmony of ‘awws’ and teasing comments, they were honestly like a chorus of little doves. Eighty stuttered over his words, embarrassed- Not at the fact of them pointing it out, that was a human reaction, but more so at the fact of, oh gosh, they were right.

Not even Eighty had come to terms with it. Why his heart sped up whenever Chaz sent a smile at him, how devastated he was at the idea of losing Chaz-

“Sheeesh!! What is up y’all!” Came a piercing voice, laughing. A white-haired boy entered, their green frog hat standing out. Wallibear raised his hands up. “Yooo!! It’s Mister Boomer!! Mister NA, Mister NA!” He called and cheered, obviously hyping Boomer as Purpled whistled. Boomer laughed, having to pause, doubling over from laughter. Eighty eyed him carefully, noticing how Boomer put less pressure on his left leg. Curious.

“We’re just learning that Eighty’s got a crush on Chaz !” Whispered Squidkid, all too loud. Boomer gaped, before grinning. “Now, now, Squiddy-” The chaotic man sauntered towards Squid. “Don’t go and reveal Eighty’s secrets here! Let the man speak!” Boomer turned to him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Is it true?”

The room went dead silent. Eighty knew he should feel pressured, uncomfortable, but- He wasn’t. For some reason, he had other concerns. Other topics on his mind. But, with pinkened cheeks, the idea of being with Chazm- More than friends, of course, was just… It was what he wanted, he really did.

“...Yeah.”

Eighty reluctantly admitted to his friends, who all began screaming and cheering- Besides from Purpled. He instead smiled, the grin knowing, nudging Eighty. “You gotta ask him out, dude!” Purpled urged Eighty, who looked at him in disbelief. “No way, I can’t do that.” There were so many things that could go wrong with it, Chaz might not be into him like that, or maybe he was, and it would put a strain on their whole friendship. Things would change.

Or worse case scenario, he would lose Chaz. Maybe he wouldn’t want to talk to Eighty anymore, or maybe he would get emotional, upset, and something could happen- Something like the body in the Bedwars game- He didn’t want to think of Chaz limp in his arms. He felt sick just imagining it, wanting to get the idea out of his head. Maybe no more talk of Chaz for now.

Eighty’s eyebrows furrowed. He wanted to change the topic, as all the other boys jabbed and teased him. “Has anything been weird with your games lately?” Eighty queried the group. Walli scoffed. “Now, Mr Gamerboy, don’t you think you’re managing to get off this topic so easily-” He said in an over-accentuated accent, reaching a paw up to adjust his glasses. Squid, Boomer and Sammy joined in, beginning to whine and complain at how fast Eighty tried to change the subject of the conversation, wanting to torment their friend a bit more. 

“No, wait, you noticed it too?” There was Purpled coming to his rescue. Eighty nodded, and as the others began to actually acknowledge what Eighty was saying. Boomer looked- Oddly nervous over the topic. They were actually leaning heavily against the back of the couch, and Eighty was sure if he looked over, he would be leaning most of his weight on his other leg, keeping the support there. Sammy hummed lightly.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve noticed something weird. See, I was fighting this kid at mid earlier today, got his bed ‘n everything, but- Get this, after I won the fight, he just kinda… Laid there. Didn’t despawn.” Sammy shivered, seeming a little uncomfortable with the memory.

“He just stared into nothingness. He was dead, but- He didn’t despawn until the end of the game. I reported the game to an admin, though, so hopefully they’d check it out. Haven’t heard anything bad.” Sammy explained. Eighty nodded quietly. 

“Something like that happened in me and Chaz’s game yesterday.” Eighty confirmed. Squid pursed his lips. He hadn’t played Bedwars lately, sticking to his Skyblock world. And this just seemed like more reason to not go and play for a bit. “If there’s some glitch going around, maybe it isn’t worth playing? Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.” Squid said, nodding.

Boomer stayed quiet throughout this. Purpled caught Eighty’s eye- Both noting to talk to the other later. Something was clearly wrong with Hypixel at the moment, something seriously concerning. Most people hadn’t batted an eye on it, but Eighty felt fear- What in the world would this become?

The door pushed open and in walked Chazm and Astelic. They waved, smiles lighting up the room, melting away the previously-solemn mood. “You guys okay?” Chazm asked, but Eighty noticed that Chaz was looking right at him. Eighty breathed out softly. It would be okay, for now. They would just stay away from Bedwars, and hope for the best. 

“Yeah, we’re okay.” Answered Purpled. Wallibear looked very deep in thought, before shaking his head. “Hey, well, since you guys are here, wanna go take screenies?? I’m in the mood for some fun!!” Wallibear hopped to his feet. Boomer gave a wide grin. “Oh my gosh!” He put on a high pitched, whiny voice that everyone laughed at, and Eighty shook his head in confusion at the other’s antics. “I wanna be faaaamous !”

So all of them got up, mindlessly chatting with one another. Chazm walked to Eighty’s side, lightly touching his arm. “Hey, listen, you don’t need to go if you don’t want to-” Chazm started. Eighty looked at him, reaching a hand up. On Chazm’s cheek was a bit of dirt, presumably from playing Skywars and sweating the game. Eighty wiped it off. “It’s fine.” Eighty murmured in response.

“I need the fresh air anyways.”

Today had been weird for Eighty, and he wasn’t lying. He just wanted to relax with his friends, see them enjoy themselves. While Eighty wasn’t known for enjoying crowded places, he didn’t want to spend time all alone like he was earlier, watching Mini Walls of all things. Things would be fine. 

Chaz still held a look of apprehension. He seemed worried about Eighty, nudging him with his shoulder. “If you’re sure, Eighty.” He murmured, before sending Eighty a soft smile. Eighty felt his heart flutter in his chest, and gave a small one in return. Chaz looked over at Squid, who waved at the yellow-suited man, and sent an apologetic shrug to Eighty, before rushing over to the other man clad in a suit. Eighty watched him go. Wallibear and Purpled strode up to him, caging Eighty on either side as he began to follow the others as they trickled out the door. Eighty had a deadpan expression as the two wore utter shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Not a word.” Eighty warned, only to hear them whispering in between giggles, “Eighty and Chazm, sitting in a tree-” Eighty stopped himself from laughing as he watched Chazm walk away. They weren’t wrong, not really.

It’d be good to get a breath of fresh air. To stop worrying about all this not despawning business, and Boomer’s limp- Which was evident as he chatted with Astelic. Eighty sighed. There was just so much happening. He just wanted to spend later tonight chilling with Chazm, maybe playing through some Mario. Nothing exciting.

Nothing exciting at all.

Chapter Text

If you wanted a place to see every imaginable player in existence, you go to Bedwars Lobby One. YouTubers, Rank beggars, nons, Dream stans, Impersonators, anything you wanted, you would find in Lobby One. It was always moving, constantly full and jam packed of players and spectators alike. Eighty had seen some questionable skins in Lobby One, how the admins and their Watchdogs hadn’t discovered such suggestive skins, Eighty had no clue on. But at the moment, he was eternally grateful for the ability to make players that weren’t friended with him disappear, in his vision. 

It might not have stopped the noise of footsteps, the feeling of air brushing against him as higher ranks flew towards him, and the shadows of the players that clambered around him for a screenshot. Some of the others preferred players on, to actually talk to their fans. And Eighty wasn’t the most social of people, sticking by Chazm’s side. He could just about envision the amount of players crowded at his feet, crouched on some of the steps that lead up to the leaderboards. His name was still displayed on the leaderboards, barely clinging onto the number ten spot of most final kills. 

He could still remember when he reached the achievement, when he was at the top of the Bedwars leaderboard. It had been such a wild day, tirelessly sweating and playing until he could return back to his Housing plot and collapse on his bed, sleeping for a few hours before returning to the grind. It was an unhealthy habit, he would admit it. He wouldn’t do it again now, Eighty was done with the sweating. He was set on the fact that people would still know him, remember his name.

One of the most influential Bedwars players ever. That’s what he was known as, and still had a significant fanbase that was happy with his schedule, though how they might whinge and cry. Chazm had a beaming smile, his public smile, Chazm had told him. A bright grin that encaptured his sunny personality, and all that sunshine and rainbows. Eighty, luckily, due to the persona he expressed outwardly, didn’t have to smile like that, with such positivity(though if you asked, Eighty would insist he was a positive creator), but he did have a small smile on his face. He wasn’t that monotone constantly, he could have fun, let loose, be a little silly.

It was just more comfortable to do so in front of Chazm, and not with hundreds of eyes on him. Every now and then, he would press his fingers into the grey squishy dye, until he felt a button be clicked, and his vision became filled with particles, hovering figures and bodies of players clambering around. He looked to the side, to his friends. Purpled had the most fans flying around, as expected. They begged for screenshots, to play games. Eighty’s own communicator buzzed insistently in his pocket, for players wanting to party, nons begging for him to be their friend. 

Chazm had his fair few, although it was the least out of everyone in the group. Chazm didn’t seem bothered by it, in fact, Eighty was grateful. Not as many players overwhelming Chaz, demanding him questions- Hell, Chazm even managed to talk to some fans, asking about creating content and his outfit, or when his next video with Eighty would be out. Chazm looked over at Eighty, sending him a wink. 

Eighty felt like his heart was spiralling out of control, his cheeks reddening as he flustered, turning his head away to focus on some other point. The blush faded as he noticed how some figures were lined up, unnaturally, staring at the group of Youtubers. None of the others seemed to notice the line of players, and Eighty felt unsettled by them. Something- Was very wrong with them. Before he could voice his complaint, or even message it in the group chat, Chaz was pulling him over, closer to the group, so fans could take group screenies. Next to him, Walli and Purpled danced in sync, doing their little Lunar emotes, and Eighty couldn’t help but laugh, doing a small jig of his own.

He felt fabric being lifted, and turned to see Chazm dipping underneath his cloak- How in the world Chazm was keeping his top hat on his head, and hiding under Eighty’s cape, Eighty had no clue. He looked at him, and huffed an amused breath out of his nose as he looked at the golden man. “Why’re you below me?” Eighty questioned.

Chazm’s cheeks heated up, and presumably his eyes too as he clambered away from underneath the cape, nudging Eighty and shaking his head, exphasturetaed. “Don’t ask me that in public!” He responded, laughing. Eighty feigned innocence. “What??” He asked. From behind, he could hear Squid calling out that he was gonna go move to the other side to take screenies with fans, due to it being crowded. Sammy waved at him, promising, “I’ll join ya later on, mate!” As Squid flew away, Eighty kept his eyes trained on the crimson flush on Chazm’s cheeks. Eyes focused on Chaz’s freckles, something he had seen a lot, but even in this crowded moment, with the world screaming and shouting at them, Eighty felt as if it was only the two of them in that moment. 

From somewhere in the crowd, Eighty looked over. Walli did too, clearly hearing the player scream, “CHECK THE LEADERBOARDS!!” Eighty furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, turning around to look. Chazm raised an eyebrow, confused, but followed his gaze. Eighty narrowed his eyes, scanning the board for any changes. What in the world was the player on? Eighty almost thought they were just messing with them, when Wallibear pointed at one of the players on the total wins board.

“Yo, I haven’t heard of that guild before?” Wallibear spoke. Eighty glanced to the side, to look at that row of players who had been standing deadly still- But they had disappeared. Eighty’s expression and heart dropped, squeezing onto the green dye blob in his pocket tightly until all players aside from his friends were blinked away. It was so much quieter now, without fireworks, people yelling, gadgets going over. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others move to do the same. 

“What’s that guild name?” Purpled spoke aloud, although Eighty noticed that he was using the party chat- Those fans staring at them would be able to see their mouths moving, but not hear a word, no matter how close to the group they moved.

Sammy stepped forward, up into the air as he began hovering, lowering his sunglasses to squint closely as he hovered towards the board. Eighty watched him, an uncomfortable feeling crawling up the back of his neck, and his spine. He didn’t feel good, this was that feeling from earlier, when he saw the body of the non-despawning player. Dread.

“I believe that says… SURIVE?” Sammy pronounced carefully. Boomer scoffed, moving closer. “Whaddya say?? Survive??” He asked, floating up as well, using their Rank perks to his advantage. 

“Nah, nah, SU-RIVE. No V, well- Yes, a V, but… You get what I mean.” Sammy spluttered to continue explaining. Eighty hadn’t heard of the guild before, and he’d like to think he was pretty up to date with Bedwars news. If top players had moved to a new guild, a new tag to wear proudly, surely it’d be the talk of the server!

Wallibear jumped over to the right side of the leaderboard, pressing a few times on the buttons, clearly adjusting what rankings they were saying. He switched to the Daily Solo results, the next segment over, and Eighty’s voice caught in his throat at what he saw.

Every single player, today, that had the most kills, most wins, all of it- On the Daily Leaderboards, everyone had the same guild tag.

[SURIVE]

“Woah-!!” Purpled was taken aback by it as well. Astelic gave a frown and voiced her concern. “I’ve never heard of this Surive Guild? Is it like- Do you think they were trying to spell Survive, but just missed a letter out?” She tried to say reasonably. This was actually a huge concern, such a large influx of clearly good players, taking over the leaderboards. But Eighty couldn’t just believe that this didn’t have a deeper meaning. Chazm shook his head, looking over at Astelic. “I’m pretty sure you can have 7 characters. SURIVE is only 6, like NOLIFE.” He pointed at Eighty’s guild tag above his head. Eighty looked up, seeing his username floating above his head, a light red colour, and the forest green of the tag colour contrasting against his rank. 

So, whatever the name of this freaky guild, it was purposeful. But what Eighty couldn’t wrap his head around with this mystery was why? What was the meaning of this, was there some secret group climbing the ranks? It wasn’t something he would usually be concerned about, but the lack of media coverage, the way that games had been glitching, this new guild? Eighty felt like something wasn’t going right. 

Tiredtwt left Lobby One not soon after. A feeling of unease settled throughout the group, and Eighty watched as all of them disappeared, before his own vision grew black, being transported back to Chazm’s place. They all sat in relative silence, only broken occasionally by a quiet murmur or softer cough. Eighty sat against the couch, resting against Chazm’s knee as they watched the screen. From off the side, he heard footsteps.

Wallibear stepped out of the kitchen, with Purpled, nodding quietly. The usually perky bear looked rather serious for once, going and sitting by the table. Purpled caught his eye- Violet staring into red and yellow. The blonde haired boy gave a nod, and Eighty found himself standing. Chazm shifted, startled by the sudden movement. His hair was messy, Eighty noted. Maybe Chaz had been sleeping? His tophat was resting on the coffee table beside him. Eighty just murmured a quiet, “I’m gonna talk with Purpled.” 

Chazm nodded in recognition, even turning to look over at the other boy, who gave a weird mixture of a grimace and smile in return. Eighty got to his feet, and walked over to Purpled. He felt as if his feet were dragging, his heart melting and weighing him down. Guilt? Fear? Nausea? Whatever the feeling was, Eighty was tentative. How many people knew of this new guild, was anything connected? So many questions left unanswered. As Eighty and Purpled stepped into the kitchen, Eighty found himself folding his arms over his jacket and leaning on the doorframe, whilst Purpled opted to lift himself onto the countertop and sit atop there. 

Purpled seemed a bit hopeless on how to start the conversation. Eighty sighed. “Aside from how weird all of this- Stuff is, let’s talk about Boomer first.” Eighty said. The white-haired man had been quiet. Something very out of character for him, usually he’d be filling the empty space with jokes, jeers and jests, but there was nothing. Purpled gave a nod, pursing his lips as he flipped his purple hood over his hair.

“He’s injured.” Purpled spoke, voice sounding a tad hollow. Eighty nodded along with him in agreement. Boomer was hurt, presumably from a Bedwars game. The worst part wasn’t even the fact that Boomer was attempting to hide it from them- It was the idea that Boomer was injured in the first place. Eighty had spotted the apprehension on Boomer’s face earlier when the group was talking about the despawning bug. 

“I think he was in a game before coming here- But why would his leg still be injured?” Eighty murmured, mind running wild. Even after the many times he had been stabbed yesterday during the game yesterday with Chaz, Eighty no longer felt the throbbing pain- It faded soon after. It wasn’t unnatural for injuries, at least the phantom pain of it, to remain after a game, but they had spent quite the while at Lobby One, and in silence. Long enough for Boomer to have recovered. 

Purpled didn’t seem to have an answer. Eighty turned his head to peer at everyone. Astelic was sitting with Boomer and Chazm on the couch, eyes trained to the TV, as Sammy and Walli sat on the dining room table, quietly conversing. Eighty refocused his attention back onto Purpled. Eighty knew he wasn’t alone with the dread he felt, he felt something very, very was going to happen soon, but couldn’t tell what. He just knew that somehow, the despawning bug, this guild, all of it was connected in some weird and twisted way.

“I’ll see if I can contact Simon, or one of the admins- Hannah might have a better time with it, actually,” Purpled spoke, clearly trying to figure out a solution. The content creators had a lot of pressure on their shoulders- If fans began to demand their opinion of everything, things could start to go seriously wrong. Eighty looked over at Chaz again. He was just worried over Chaz. if people were struggling with respawning, if they were getting hurt, just like Boomer, would Chaz be okay? Was Chaz okay? He died twice during their game, although they had a bed. What in the world was going on?

Eighty was unsure of what else to say to Purpled. Should they confront Boomer? Leaving it alone and trying to get more info sounded like the best plan- When a small ding alerted him. Three, actually, rang across the room. Eighty felt his communicator buzz, frowning. As he moved to take it out of his pocket, he noticed Purpled doing the same. 

Reading the small screen was a selection of small words.

“To: gamerboy80,

As part of the Hypixel ‘Support A Creator’ Program, the Hypixel Team would like to share with you some important info regarding the new up and coming guild, [SURIVE]. We suggest that if you get an invite to this guild from any player, to block the player and to not respond. You will be teleported to the conference room at 7pm tonight.

Kind regards,

The Hypixel Team.”

Eighty looked up. Purpled was reading the message, eyebrows furrowing. He looked at Eighty, and turned his screen. The exact same message, addressed to Purpled instead. Purpled walked out of the kitchen, knowing that Walli was also a part of the program. Walli was reading the message himself, the bear blinking up. Chazm, Boomer and Astelic, as well as Sammy, who had joined them by the couch, all were absorbed on the live footage of the Pit, calling out players who they thought were doing good, and cheering. Their earlier fear seemed to be gone, leaving Purpled, Walli and Eighty with worry. Boomer, as if feeling Eighty’s multi-colored eyes on him, turned to glance at the trio, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

Eighty refocused his gaze on his communicator screen, suddenly his throat felt dry. He was right to feel worried over this guild- If the Hypixel Team themselves were worried, it was definitely a big deal. But something they were trying to keep under wraps. It was 6pm now. The three had an hour before they were teleported, an hour to come up with some excuse on why they would be leaving.

Eighty felt something was wrong with everything, something was missing.

And with growing fear, he looked over the group again. They all had been warped in earlier from Lobby One. There were only three of them who got the notification of the Support A Creator message.

Purpled, Walli, Boomer, Sammy, Astelic, Chazm, himself.

Where was Squid?

Chapter Text

It had been 45 minutes. Messaging Squid, messaging members of his guild, even visiting his Housing Plots, his Skyblock world, all of it. None of them had heard any mention of one ImASquidKid. Either he was ignoring them, or- Had vanished. No one had seen him. Panic was all around the group, how could none of them have seen where he went? Eighty had been distracted staring into Chazm’s pretty shining eyes, instead watching and paying attention to where Squid was going when he mentioned that he was going off to take screenshots. Guilt sat heavy in all of their stomachs. How had no one noticed?

Chazm seemed to feel the most guilty. He had been the party leader, and had warped the rest of them to his housing. Eighty breathed out as he listened to Chaz next to him, voice shaky with worry and regret. “There was a notification on my communicator saying there was an error, but I just- Brushed it off, and didn’t bother to count! I thought he was here!” Chaz spoke. Eighty, unable to figure out what words would help Chazm, simply scooted closer, and wrapped one arm around Chazm, holding him close. Chaz was wracked by guilt and Eighty couldn’t bear to see him like this.

“Hey, Chaz, listen,” Eighty started, looking at Chazm. The sun had set a little bit ago, curtains drawn. “We’ll find Squid, okay? It isn’t your fault.” Eighty murmured, before reaching forward to brush a strand of golden blond hair from Chazm’s face. His skin was smooth and soft, and Eighty kept his larger, calloused hand there. Simply cupping Chazm’s cheek. The other leaned into the warm touch, his own hand reaching up to place over Eighty’s. The two sat there, heartbeats intertwined. Something was going wrong, going terrible with the world around them, but even with unsaid confessions and dreams of stargazing, they could be with each other. 

Eighty couldn’t bear to see Chazm cry.

This moment was theirs eternally. No one else’s, it was Eighty and Chazm’s. Even as Chazm shut his eyes, always the more emotional, more sensitive out of the two, Eighty didn’t think it was a bad thing. No, at times, it could be adorable even, making Eighty’s heart skip a bit as faux anger from Chaz, or how giddy he got went he was happy, or how he would run and wrap his arms around Eighty, hugging his waist tight and make Eighty feel like he was flying. 

He really was in love, wasn’t he? 

Eighty knew what it was like to fall. He fell into the void plenty of times, spiralled down until his vision went back. But here? Now? He fell, and he fell hard, right into the golden heart of Chaz. And oh, how Eighty was gone. Into the throes of love. Was this love? He had fallen for Chaz, just as how Chaz had seemingly fallen from heaven- An angel. Eighty pulled Chazm closer, holding him close to his chest as Chaz wrapped his arms around him, resting his face against Eighty’s shoulders, breathing unsteady and shaky. They remained like that for who knew how long.

“Eighty.” Very softly, from across the room, his name was called. He could already feel Chazm retreating, backtracking, the warmth of his heart fading as their moment was taken. Eighty turned, feeling the way that Chaz’s hands reached up to wipe his eyes. Purpled and Wallibear both stood at the end of the couch. Astelic and Sammy had headed home already, but Boomer remained. Eighty wasn’t the most keen on it, but it wasn’t like he could say a thing, right? All that he had was a gut feeling. Boomer would stay with Chaz, and the two of them would wait. Purpled had explained how they had a meeting, and lied that the three of them didn’t know what it was about, assuming it was about the Support A Creator program. Walli had suggested telling them what it was about, but Eighty didn’t want Chazm to be worrying. He was already worried enough over Squidkid. Eighty didn’t want to put too much on his sunshine’s shoulders.

His sunshine?

Standing up to move towards the others, Purpled dressed up in a suit that Chazm had made for him long ago, and Wallibear in a light blue button up and pants, a small hole at the back for his fluffy bear tail. Eighty hadn’t changed, remaining in his classic grey striped jacket, and lighter grey sweater underneath. Chazm pulled his legs up to his chest, sitting in the corner of the couch. Eighty looked at him, before breathing out.

He unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. Chazm looked up, top hat placed haphazardly next to him, He let out a noise of surprise as the grey jacket flopped over his face, the fabric hiding his face. He pulled it away, and looked at it. Eighty had given Chaz his jacket. 

Chazm looked up at him with a soft, sad smile, and Eighty returned it. This wasn’t a goodbye, even though the dread was heavy in his chest, he knew this wasn’t goodbye. “I’ll collect my jacket later.” Eighty told him, and Chazm laughed quietly, a little wetly, and nodded. With hesitation, and hearing Purpled murmur that they had one minute, Eighty stood there, mind splitting in two, two sides fighting with one another. Time was ticking down.

Eighty walked over to Chazm, leaning down to tenderly place his lips against Chaz’s head, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Go get some rest, Chaz. I’ll come lay with you when I’m back.” Eighty murmured. They had an exhausting down, spending the last hour tirelessly looking for Squid. Even though Eighty knew Chaz might not sleep, as it was only 7pm, it was still worth a shot. He wanted Chaz to relax, to not worry. He didn’t know why his heart sank whenever he saw a crease in Chaz’s eyebrows- Eighty wanted to make sure that Chaz was happy and safe.

Chazm nodded. Eighty glanced towards Boomer. The white-haired man had his green gaze fixated onto the ground, his own frog hat abandoned, cast off to the side. Eighty looked back at Purpled, who was staring at his communicator, and Wallibear, who waved a paw goodbye at Chazm. Eighty raised his hand to wave bye at Chaz, standing up straight. “See you later.” Chaz murmured. Eighty nodded, and he was gone.

Being teleported so suddenly took Eighty off guard, he had to admit. Whilst he knew it was going to happen, it still made him jolt. Colour overtook his eyes, and he shut them to stop himself from feeling sick. He felt the ridiculously soft carpet of Chaz’s living room disappear, replaced with hard wooden planks. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in what seemed to be a rather large dining hall- It was fancy, for sure, with rounded tables decorating it with seats around them. Standing next to him was Purpled and Wallibear. Other creators were showing up, but there weren’t many. Most of the staff were already seated, and positioned on a small stage in the front, was Simon Hypixel himself. Eighty had met the man a few times, offered for the server creator to be his 100,000th final Bedwars kill, etc. Taking his seat at the creators table, he watched as Simon seemed to straighten some papers on the podium in front of him, black mask covering over his face, brown strands of hair poking out from under his hood, and striking dark green eyes scanning the words.

Eighty heard a chair pull out, and turned to the side, spotting Hannahxxrose. Hannah wore a rather lovely dress, and now Eighty almost felt underdressed, but, in all honesty? He didn’t care. Purpled, Walli and Hannah got to talking. Eighty waited. Vaguely, he wondered if food would be served.

On the other side of him, a chair was pulled out and a larger figure plopped down into the chair. There was a thunk, and Eighty leaned over to look. A hoe was resting against the chair. Eighty looked up, to see Technoblade stare back at him, the glowing PIG+++ rank glowing atop his head. Technoblade nodded at Eighty, who nodded back causally. The other was famous- The most famous out of them all, in fact. But Eighty wasn’t scared in his presence, just seemed like a chill guy. He looked over, and saw Walli and Purpled staring at Eighty and Technoblade in utter disbelief, their jaws dropped at how causally Eighty had interacted with The Technoblade.

Eighty rolled his eyes, smiling a bit at the youngers’ antics. They were just amazed by it, by Eighty’s nonchalance. But before they could question Eighty, or the Blade himself, the last person took their seats, and Simon Hypixel cleared his throat.

The smile faded from Eighty’s face. He was here for a reason, they were being informed about this new guild. They must be a reason why they were specifically told to not accept any requests from players with the guild tag. There were two elephants in the room.

One, Simon Hypixels’ apprehension to begin speaking, even the nervous look of his eyes. And secondly, the fact that the chair next to Technoblade, which was supposed to be the seat for Squid, was empty. Technoblade was watching it in clear worry. 

“Firstly, I’d like to thank you all for coming here on such short notice. We’re working on locating Squidkid, to bring him here, but we’re experiencing some- Difficulties.” Hypixel spoke. Ah, a fancy way of saying that they had no clue where Squid was, either. Eighty had at least hoped they had a lead, but no. Eighty had an idea of where Squid could be, but he just prayed it wasn’t. If players weren’t despawning and laying there dead…

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard of the new guild, [SURIVE], that’s shot up in popularity. At this moment, we can estimate that the guild had approximately… Almost 30,000 members.” To that statement, yells of indignation and confusion echoed around, Walli calling out, “Can’t guilds only have 125 players!?” He sounded bewildered, and Eighty didn’t blame him. The information was showing- And fearful. How many people had he seen today that had been in this new guild, that was breaking the rules of what could and couldn’t be in Hypixel. 

“Yes, that’s the amount they’re limited to. We’ve tried to close this guild, stop it from running, but- They have something blocking them. Nothing we do seems to work, we cannot close the guild, and it’s only growing by the second. Primarily, the guild members are playing in Bedwars, but they’ve been moving to The Pit, Skywars, Skyblock, Arcade, all the popular games. It seems to be like an infestation, but…” Simon’s voice lowered. “Me and the rest of the admins believed, due to the code of this guild and their members, being ever changing, we think that… It’s a virus.”

Dead silence was throughout the room. You could hear a pin drop. 

A virus? Like, a hacker was going around?

“While we would usually close the entire server for a few days until we can sort out this problem, we’ve come to realise that there is a risk. Players in games such as Bedwars, Skywars- Whenever they get eliminated, their bodies are not respawning. They’re remaining dead, and when they come back- They aren’t the same. Injuries from games are being carried over, and the wall between game and lobby is getting weaker. We’ve been doing all we can to stop it, but we fear that..”

Simon gave a hefty sigh.

“If we close the server, any players who are in it will count as being eliminated. This gives the virus a chance to infect them, and, well- Bot them.”

Players across Hypixel were being… Botted?

Turned into mindless drones?

Eighty felt his breath catch in his throat. What if this was what happened with Squid, why he wasn’t here right now? He could’ve been led away by someone who was apart of the guild, a botted player, and been eliminated, or killed, putting it in blunt terms, but instead of respawning, he was locked out of his body.

Eighty felt sick.

What if this happened to Chaz? God, Eighty didn’t know what he’d do if this happened to Chaz.

“Why are you tellin’ us?” The harsh, gruffer voice of Technoblade spoke up. “What are we meant to do about it?”

That was a rather good question. Why tell them specifically, they were a couple of Bedwars sweats. What on earth were they supposed to do about something like this? They didn’t know how to code, and they couldn’t risk being botted, they had huge platforms that could put other players at a lot of risk.

“Because you’re all talented Bedwars players- Some of you the best at some point.” Simon’s eyes landed on Eighty and Technoblade- Eighty couldn’t dephier which one of them Hypixel was looking at. Maybe it was both. Eighty had been top of the leaderboards for a long time, and Technoblade had gotten one of the longest win streaks. That skill would be useful. 

“We need you to play against these bots. They’re taken over average players, with average skills, but we need the best of the best to fight, and try to kill these bots. If we can learn how to bring them back to normal, to free their minds, then we can help everyone before potentially the entire server is taken over. We’ll be putting the games on lockdowns, but the bots can override those and will continue to play, even against each other. If you guys can figure out ways to stop the bots, maybe we can figure out how to stop them. We don’t have any other choice at this point, we’ve been trying our hardest to contain this, but honestly.” Simon clasped his hands together.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

Eighty sat on the small cobblestone wall, bushes against his back, as Purpled paced down the footpath in front of him. “Why does he expect us to stop this!? Can’t they stop it themselves?! We’re gonna be in danger of being botted!” Wallibear ranted furiously. Eighty had already gone quiet, thinking deeply. While Simon’s thought process had been desperate, even flawed, Eighty himself couldn’t think of a genuinely useful plan. God forbid if an admin got botted- Then there would be no stopping the guild, the virus- Whatever one wanted to call [SURIVE].

“Can you think of a better plan?” Eighty finally voiced, annoyance seeping into his tone. He understood why Purpled and Wallibear were scared, but honestly, if Eighty had the choice of protecting everyone else, risking his life? He wouldn’t call himself a hero, just someone who tried to do the right things. 

“If we can help them stop these guys, then we can help everyone. This is the best way to make sure that the others don’t get botted. Astelic. Sammy. Boomer. Chaz .” Eighty spoke firmly. He would never let Chaz get botted, get used as a puppet in his own body. He didn’t even want to imagine such a thought.

“It’s us or them. Make your choice.”

It didn’t take long after that for Eighty to return back home. His mind was made up, Even if it involved him being stupidly self-sacrifical, something he knew that Chaz would be upset about, if he was protecting Chaz, protecting that smile, then it was worth it. It would always be worth it for Chaz, a million times over. 

Chaz was sleeping quietly in his bed. Boomer had left a short while ago, Eighty assumed, from the note that the man had left on the dining room table. When Eighty entered into the dark room, he could see from the light in the hallway that Chaz was curled up under a white duvet, the sleeve of Eighty’s jacket poking out. He was hugging it as he slept. Guilt rose in Eighty’s throat. He would have to lie to Chaz, go fight for his life daily. Not even his life, the lives of everyone around him. One mistake, and everything could go wrong.

Eighty sat down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and hands in his elbows. 

No pressure, right? Just the fate of the world on his shoulders. Some would call it an exaggeration. 

Eighty tucked himself into bed and turned over, shutting his eyes. 

He’d call it a typical Tuesday night.

Chapter Text

Eighty wished he could say he woke to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes, to sunlight streaming in and drifting over his face, until he was roused peacefully and sweetly. He wished he could say that the birds chirped their morning song and the leaves fluttered around, maybe even feel a weight on the bed next to him, a hand on his shoulder, a soft, playful voice, calling, “Eightyyy… Wake uppp..”

But that was what he wished. And not everyone got what they wished for. Eighty woke up, with it still being dark out, feeling like trash, cold, shivering, and uncomfortable. Looking over at glowing red letters of his and Chazm’s alarm clock, that rested on oak-orange wood in between their beds, Eighty could see it was just after 4am. 

That explained why the world was still dark outside. There was a bit of light- The moon was full and bright out. As try as he might, switch positions, flip his pillow around, even very sneakily and stealthily attempt to steal his jacket back(he failed), Eighty could just not get back to sleep. He was awake, and there was nothing he could do. Wiping at his eyes, he thought back to the meeting last night. They had all dispersed quietly after the announcement, and Eighty had thought for a solid while about the botted accounts, about Surive. He would be putting himself to the test, using up all of his Bedwars skills that he spent years grinding and perfecting. It would be like the time he completed the no damage challenge- That same amount of risk. He could do it, for sure.

So, that was how he ended up in an empty lobby, switching through nicks, trying to find the most random ones he could- even ones that sounded like a bot, a fake name. Settling on the nickname, “GayInGamer”, and a black hoodie over ripped jeans, Eighty queued himself up for a Solo game of Bedwars. When entering into the Waiting Lobby, Eighty tried his best to not move. Every single person in the lobby, all 7 other players, were walking around, their movements stiff and rigid. Their bodies were moving unnaturally, and Eighty felt fear grow in his stomach. 

Aside from his eyes flickering around, Eighty didn’t move an inch. Only when he felt the glass of the Waiting Lobby disappear under him did he move, gasping. He had barely been breathing. One small movement felt like they would realise that he wasn’t one of them, wasn’t a bot. He just needed to keep up the act to kill them, to see what would happen. Stumbling back into the generator, Eighty prayed that he hadn’t made a mistake. Iron and gold collected in his hands. Maybe he should’ve just stayed in bed, tried to sleep some more, and woken up with Chaz and the morning sun.

Yet here he was, at an ungodly hour of the morning, collecting resources to fight against botted accounts, which, if he lost against, he could lose his entire identity, his entire sense of self. He would be botted, and no longer think for himself, feel for himself. Thousands would be exposed to him- He didn’t know if the player’s skill was used once botted, but if it was, Eighty would be the chain reaction to possibly put the entire server at risk, everyone he loved and cared about.

Nothing to fear, right?

Eighty should’ve really had a coffee. Throughout his internal conflict and monologue, he walked over to the shopkeeper, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible, buying some wool and tnt. He wanted to get this game over and done with- Just so long as he didn’t lose his bed, he’d be fine. He placed a messy wool bed defence over his bed- In hindsight, really, he shouldn’t be treating like this as a normal game, btu Eighty was scared that if he try harded, the bots would target him. Jumping down and landing cleanly, he took that moment to look around at the map he was on. 

Apollo.

He had played this many, many times, and considered himself pretty alright at it. Bridging from the diamond generator, he began to make a staircase bridge upwards, building to the base next to him. The yellow wool that Eighty brought hurt- It reminded him too much of Chazm. God, he really could not get Chaz out of his head, could he?

Leaping down, the bot was already still in their gen, no bed defence planted down. Every move he made felt like he was being watched by a thousand eyes, one wrong step and everything might go wrong. And there was no double to watch his back, to call out a warning. If his bed was broken, he was toast.

It was easy to smack the bot who stood aimlessly in the generator around, until they crumpled, limp. Eighty froze in place at how they collapsed to the ground with an almost resounding crack. Horror filled his heart as he collected resources and went up to the shopkeeper, buying more wool, a better sword, a fireball. He could only hope that each and every enemy he would have to fight, all of the other bots, were just standing, blindly collecting resources, not doing anything. Empty vessels, easy to defeat.

But that hope of such paradises, such fantasies, soon died in his chest as he heard the dragon’s roar of another bed being broken, this one across the map. Glancing down at the screen on his wrist, his hopes were not only crumpled, but squished into a ball, torn into pieces and chucked into the void. Almost all of the other teams were fighting, and as he returned to his bridge, there were even bridges already forming towards mid. This wouldn’t be an easy game, not at all.

Eighty leapt onto the bridge- Sometimes, he imagined himself as a tightrope walker. Keeping his balance careful and steady, arms stretched out to the side, almost like he was flying on nothing. Chaz would meet him at the other side, and talk about how wonderfully he did and Eighty would smile, before Chaz, ever the elusive, would hook his hand onto a trapeze bar and go soaring away into the stars and the moon, right where he belonged.

Eighty made his way to the middle. It would be worth it to get some obsidian- That way, he could stop his bed from being broken as long as possible, as the others took out their first rush. Although, when he got to mid after diag-bridging, he could see he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

The other player who had already taken out their first rush, not long after Eighty, was just about arriving at mid as Eighty ran up the staircases towards the emeralds in the middle. He swiped up the first ones, before leaping over the archways in mind, not slowing down his stride nor pace. He had to get the emeralds before it was too late. He had run along three out of the four, and the botted player had most certainly spotted him, drawing their sword and they both sprinted to the last emerald generator. 

Eighty wasn’t fast enough.

The enemy got it first.

Eighty extended his sword. This time, they weren’t fast enough. With an almost brutal, forceful swing, Eighty slammed the sharp edge of his blade into the bot’s leg, piercing it and knocking them down, the emeralds going flying from their hands, scittering dangerously close towards the ledge. Eighty’s eyes widened. He needed those, he needed them for obsidian, to protect his bed, himself, Chaz, everyone , he couldn’t lose it-

Eighty leapt, and grabbed the emeralds, breathing a sigh of relief, and turning around. Right as the bot got their feet, and the player kicked Eighty hard in the gut. He curled up in pain, sand spreading around as he stumbled back, before losing his balance- He was too close to the edge.

Eighty felt weightless when falling into the voice, blood rushing through his ears. Running purely on adrenaline, Eighty switched to his wool, placing it underneath him at the last possible moments, before he slipped through into the void. Gasping, Eighty dug his fingers against pale yellow stone, clinging on for dear life. The bot must’ve assumed he fell and left, Eighty assumed after a long few moments, feeling the weight of the shimmering emeralds in his pocket. Hesitantly, he built up, heart pounding heavily, sweat on his hands. He wiped them on his jeans, before lifting himself back up onto the island. He needed to get back to his base. He ran back, pillaring up to lead up onto the messy diagonal bridge he had made from his diamond gem, and he picked up the diamonds there on the way, before building up to his speedbridge.

He meandered along the bridge, and Eighty tried to take this moment, walking above nothingness, to relax, trying to think of his strat for this game, to brainstorm what plays he would have to make to ensure his victory with the least deaths on his end as possible. Even though, crossing this bridge, he could be sniped, or a fireball could send him flying up and off to the side. He sped up the last few steps until he was on the solid group of his base island.

He walked up the slabs into his base itself, eyeing how full the generator was, the huge astronaut head dark inside. He feared that the shadows would attack him at any given moment, on edge and on high alert. Eighty opened up the shopkeeper’s menu, a wither skeleton who’s bones creaked at Eighty’s urgency, letting Eighty buy the rough obsidian. Now, he had to be careful with it, and with where he placed it- Put it in the wrong place, and he wouldn’t be moving that for a while, not before another enemy spotted it. 

Eighty grabbed some wood as well after snatching up the hovering, spinning resources that lay in the generator, buying the sturdy planks. He began to place them over the wool, but left the end open, so he was able to break the yellow wool covering over the bed itself and replaced it with obsidian, before placing the final plank of wool, sufficiently hiding the purpled obsidian from any prying eyes. He then returned to his generator. Eighty felt as if he wasn’t doing enough, he should be out, defeating the other teams, before flinching as the roar of a dragon echoed through the map. Another bed broken.

Another chance for a body to lay limp. He thought of the current body laying in the base closest to him. Was it still in the generator, gold and iron ingots piling up onto it. Eighty remembered the diamonds that were currently being stored inside his jeans pocket, and took out the precious, glowing gems, walking over to the shopkeeper to buy himself some sharpness, as well as a mining fatigue trap. That way, he would be alerted if someone attempted to break his bed and give him some time to void, and fight them off. Keeping his best was his utmost priority this game.

He gathered enough iron and gold to buy himself a full set of tools, a stone sword, some more wool and iron armour. He would work on getting himself to a higher prot now, so it’d be harder for other players- (Bots? He didn’t know what to refer to them by?) to defeat him in battle. He travelled back out, walking around his wooden bed defence. He prayed that no one would discover he had obby and snitched to the rest of the bots, but then again, who knew what hivemind they could have connected. Eighty hopped down, right atop of the diamond generator. Only two more had spawned in the time that Eighty had redone his bed defence, but it was enough for now. As he built back up to his bridge, he spared a glance to his right. 

The body of the enemy player he had slain was barely visible from his angle, but it stayed in place, laying in the generator, a deadweight. Eighty swallowed, and rushed back to his island, returning in a hurry to trade the gems for some much-needed protection, something that would definitely give him the advantage in fights. Now, with a shimmering gleam all over his body, swords as sharp as can be and obsidian securing his bed, Eighty felt confident for a fight. He grabbed a couple more blocks, as well as a golden apple and second fireball. Just to be certain.

Was Eighty a little paranoid? Yes! Was it just a bit understandable in his current predicament, the fact that the fate of the world virtually rested on his shoulders because of a dumb, impulsive choice he made at 4 in the morning? 

Also yes.

So, with that reassuring set of thoughts, he walked across the bridge yet another time, leaping and clutching on the side of the pillars on the diamond island, to casually walk off it without taking damage, returning to his mid bridge. No one looked to be there at the moment, either sitting in their generator or engaged with their own fights. So Eighty had free roam to explore mid- Though, from the corner of his eye, he spotted red rushing towards green’s base, clearly trying to take out their bed, although the red team didn’t have a bed. Eighty decided to help out, chucking a fireball towards the green’s bed defence, absolutely and positively decimating it after a moment, into a ball of flames and smoke. The roar sounded as the bed was shattered, and red and green fought in a dramatic duel of weapons, a duel that left red on top. During this, Eighty was checking his screen that had popped up, where he could see the players’ health. Seeing how the red player was incredibly low after that battle, he threw his second fireball, chomping on part of his golden apple. 

The fireball collided with the player and they simply exploded into a disgusting, visceral, crimson mess. Eighty drew his eyes away, praying to get that vivid mental image out of his mind. At least that was two more players gotten rid of, leaving them to the final three. White was sitting at their generator, doing god-knows what, while cyan was actually making his way away. Cyan was the same player who had knocked Eighty painfully off the edge. And it was clear the way the player scowled towards Eighty that they were upset they hadn’t managed to kill him. Eighty bit a little bit more off of his golden apple, sword shining. The other player held an iron sword- And man, did those things hurt a lot. Eighty raised his sword up to block the enemy’s viscous slam on his iron blade against Eighty’s stone, before Eighty sent a parry in their direction, stumbling back. The two were locked, blade for blade, strike for strike, swung for swung, each and every one of Eighty’s moves being matched by the cyan team player. But Eighty’s expertise and experience began to severely overpower the bot as Eighty realised he’d have to do something different. 

A feeling, heavy and boiling in his gut rose when he got the alert of his miner fatigue trap being set off, warnings beeping across his communicator. He needed to head back to his base- But he only got a few steps forward, until this try-hard and sweat grabbed the hood of his hoodie, yanking Eighty back and momentarily choking him. Eighty could envision the white player at his base, buying themselves a gold or diamond pickaxe, doing their best to mine through the obsidian. Eighty was shoved onto the ground and rolled out of the way to stop himself from becoming a kebab as cyan stabbed their sword many times into the ground, like whack-a-mole, attempting to hit the jackpot. Maybe it was the fact that he was feeling tired. Maybe he was distracted from the deafening roar of your bed being broken. But it split, and Eighty feared. 

Am I gonna die here?

How was he ever going to say what he’s been meaning to say to Chaz, for like, forever. Confess how his heart flutters every time Eighty caught his smile, every miniscule moment that meant the world to Eighty. The sword caught onto his hoodie, and dug into the ground. Eighty took it as his moment to roll away swiftly, feeling fabric tear as he struggled against the sword. The enemy player slammed the sword against his side, and Eighty groaned in pain. 

This wasn’t looking the best for him. He never got to say what he wanted to Chaz, uttered the three words that would lock his fate forever. His bed was gone. He was hopeless. But the idea, the thought of Chaz waking up alone, scared and confused? That- Eighty could be selfish sometimes, but he wasn’t that selfish.

Switching to hold the hilt of his sword, he swiped it violently, using all of the skill he had been accumulating over the past few years, and sliced at the cyan player until they dissipated into dust, respawning. Now, it was Eighty standing there alone. And he barely had anything, but he didn’t have any time at all. Running towards the bridge that Cyan used to get to and from mid, he climbed up it, before hearing footsteps. Ducking behind the marble-white pillar on the diamond island, Eighty crouched down and held his breath. He heard the noise of diamonds being collected, before skidding footsteps ran past him, again towards mid, presumably to hunt Eighty down again.

He peered his head around the pillar, checking that the path was clear, before Eighty began to climb up to the Cyan player’s bed. Sprinting across the bed, Eighty was careful to be sure that his balance was on point. One wrong step, and he would transcend into emptiness. Arriving at the base, which he easily cut through with his shears, Eighty drove his sword deep into the bed, splitting it apart, using more force than necessary. Running purely on emotions and survival instinct.

He had to get back for Chaz. It was always for Chaz.

The cyan player had begun to run back to his base as Eighty yoinked all of the resources that had spawned in his gen, grabbing fireballs and more golden apples. It would be a temporary relief if he was injured, stitching back slices and cuts before he could bleed out, before he went weak and passed out, left for dead. Strength and adrenaline running through his veins, he watched as the Cyan player built up. Eighty felt confident, he wasn’t going to die.

He stood at the edge of the bridge as the player began building up. Feeling the heat of the fireball floating by his side, Eighty hovered his hand under it. Staring up at the Cyan player, it felt remarkably close to the player who had taunted him and Chaz during their game- Yesterday? 

God, it was only yesterday? Well, really, the day before that, but still… Everything felt like it had moved so quickly, the entire trajectory of their life had changed. And it had only been just over a day. He was willing to do anything for Chaz, he had admitted that to himself. He would live for Chazm. He would die to protect him. 

He swore that on his heart, glaring up at this player. He threw the fireball, just at the blocks underneath them. They flew up into the air, limbs scrambling for something to grasp, trying to land on the island. Eighty rushed a few steps back as the Cyan player almost seemed to fly through the air towards him-

Before falling. Eighty’s eyes widened, and even from here, could see the utterly expressionless face. It was like he was already staring at a corpse. Then there was a crack as the player’s head hit the edge of the island, before slipping off the stone, limp, ragdoll body falling into the void. Eighty didn’t bother to peer over the edge. The ding on his communicator alerted him the player was eliminated. He instead built a connector to the bridge, and headed back to mid.

One more player to go. Before he could be with Chaz again. Only one more. His mind was filled with the mantra of such thoughts. Maybe, he didn’t even need to tell Chazm, he could just pretend like this never happened. Eighty really needed to think sometimes.

Walking around mid, emerald gems weighing down his pockets, Eighty had brought himself a tracker. The small numbers at the bottom of the compass counted how the player was approaching- Frighteningly rapidly. Eighty spun around, on the steps, to see the player running towards him. Eighty braced himself, holding out his sword, ready to engage in this fight, already mapping out where he could aim, the fastest and safest way to fight-

When the white team player switched to a fireball, slamming it under themselves, and launching into the air. Eighty’s breath caught in his throat, when he realised the enemy player had jumped onto the small roof area that covered over the stairs. He crouched down, spinning around, hearing the botted player quietly chomp into an apple. They could drop down from anyways- Eighty was trapped. He needed to be on high alert, be ready to be attacked from any side-

The sound of wool being placed behind him. Eighty spun around, just in time for his blade to clash with the player’s, who leapt at him, brutally slamming their blade against his own sword, trying to push him back. Eighty snatched up a fireball, and didn’t only throw it at the player, but smashed it against their cheek, sending the back of them flying back. Eighty felt his back hit the wall, slumping down. The force of the explosion made him cough violently.

Black was making his vision flicker, and smoke curled off of his clothes. But he scrambled to his feet, staggering and stumbling over to the other player on the ground- Unconscious, but not dead. Eighty breathed out. It was over. Eighty reached up with his sword, to pierce the enemy’s heart, and end this battle- When agony struck his ankle. Eighty let out a yell of pure pain, and dropped down- The sword still reached its mark in the enemy, rendering them defeated Eighty gasped, breathless, fire scorching at his ankle. He barely managed to see the blood splattered across their blade, before his sword was replaced with the toystick.

He had won.

Eighty collapsed, scrambling backwards, staring at the body in front. It wasn’t just a game, not when Eighty felt the way they convulsed, choking on their own blood and gore, not when Chaz’s life was at stake. It was necessary, he tried to tell himself as colours overflowed his vision, taking him back to the lobby.

Eighty felt he should’ve been more concerned over the fact that he couldn’t walk. He fell down, hitting the grass hard, just to the left of where people spawned in the Bedwars lobby, dragging himself, and unable to register anything but pain, pain, pain-

Reaching blindly, he pulled out his compass, to teleport to Chaz’s place. There went the plan of not telling Chaz, when he could barely feel his leg, his entire leg felt like it was being torn apart, up and down, blood coating the ends of his pants, making it sticky wet. 

He just hoped that Chaz wouldn’t be too upset .

Chapter Text

“You went out and played a Bedwars match, when you had a risk of dying !? And you didn’t think to tell anyone, to warn anyone?? And you got badly hurt because of it, oh my gosh , Eighty, you could’ve died!!” 

Eighty dipped his head, at least having the audacity to look the slightest bit guilty and regretful. Chaz had been alerted and got ghostly white in fear when Eighty practically crashed through the door, biting back tears and quietly pleading out a “Help”.

Chaz, who had awoken from the noise, safe to say, was sufficiently freaked out, by the trail of blood following Eighty, and the way he couldn’t properly stand up or support his weight. Eighty looked pale, he had grime and ash smeared on his cheek, and was stumbling shakily after hitting his head. Chaz had dragged him onto the bed, and grabbed the first aid kid.

As it turned out, when Eighty was getting ready to kill the white team player, the enemy had sunk their sword into his ankle, rendering his ability to walk almost completely screwed up until it healed. Chaz had treated the wound and bandaged it up tightly, with plenty of bandages, and made sure it was secure and comfortable for Eighty. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Eighty even more. He knew that the dual-haired man already felt a significant amount of guilt over his actions. It was risky and impulsive, but Eighty needed to do something to stop his mind from overthinking.

Chaz was just worried. And he was glad that Eighty was safe right now. The two were lying quietly in the bed, Eighty’s hand loose in Chaz’s. An empty bowl sat next to them, from where they shared some noodles together, due to Eighty’s stomach growling, despite his insistence that he could get his own food. Chaz had practically had to force Eighty down, throwing his jacket over Eighty’s face to render the man immobile. Eighty didn’t want to take the jacket off, his fingers tracing over the embroidered dragon pattern across the back, knowing he had a matching one of his own. It was almost like yin and yang, in Eighty’s eyes. 

But right now, after Chaz had gotten his angry, worried little rant over, he and Eighty stayed close to each other. There was still so much to worry about, but it would be for another time. Eighty turned over, holding back a wince at the sudden joustling of movement, setting off his ankle, but he turned, face scrunched up in slight discomfort. He felt tender, warm fingers brush a few dark strands of hair out of his face. Eighty’s eyes flickered up, mismatched meeting golden. He looked into Chaz’s eyes, heartbeat in his head.

Now was the time.

He could tell Chaz, he could tell him how he felt, and they could forget about everything, have a happy ending. Eighty could live the life he always wanted to. Eighty took a breath. It was now or never, life or death, honestly. Just the two of them, in their moment.

“...Chaz…” Eighty practically breathed out in a whisper. Chazm’s eyes searched him, a silent question which Eighty was trying to give him the answer to.

“Yeah?”

Tender, fragile silence. Eighty closed his eyes. Now. He opened them, looking at Chazm. “...I… Chaz, we’ve been friends for so long, and I don’t want this to- Ruin, anything, but-” It was too late to backtrack now. He swallowed down his fears, doubts and worries.

“Chaz, I-”

“ Eighty!! Holy dooley, man-”

“What the fuck were you thinking!?”

Sammy and Purpled burst into the room, and the moment was lost to time. Chaz sat up, looking at the two intruders, Purpled at least having the sense to seem a bit remorseful. Eighty shot the two of them a glare, all his confidence that he built up in himself, gone with the wind. He had missed his chance, hadn’t he?

Both of the others rushed over to Eighty’s side of the bed. It was  a little hard to fit both Chazm and Eighty on Chaz’s single bed, so Chaz had moved the middle table out, huffing and puffing as Eighty watched, propped up by pillows and letting out little giggles at Chaz’s dramatics. Then, Chaz used all of his remaining strength to push their beds closer together, until they met almost seamlessly, giving them a lot more space to lay next to each other.

Purpled still eyed Eighty, violet eyes full of concern. “Why did you go out on your own? Did- Was Simon right?” Purpled asked, the full question going unsaid. Were there really just SURIVE bots in Bedwars matches?

Eighty dipped his head into a nod, slightly mournful. He had made a mistake, for sure, and had certainly paid the price, taking a look at his ankle. He couldn’t walk now, and estimated it’d be quite a few more weeks. “I just- I had to see.” Eighty admitted, rueful, with red and yellow eyes downcast in shamefulness. “I had to see for myself.” He spoke into the quiet room. Gently, Eighty felt Chaz’s hand take him, thumb rubbing slightly against his hand in a quiet attempt to comfort him.

It worked. It would always work when it was Chazm- Who else could light up Eighty’s day, his life ? Make Eighty smile even on the darkest and rainiest of days, like a beam of golden, pure sunlight.

Sammy waved his hand slightly. “Listen, dudes, that doesn’t matter- We’ve found Squid.” He said, and both Chaz and Eighty sat up (Though Eighty gave a hiss of pain as he moved too suddenly). 

“You found Squid!?” Chaz blurted out, excitement in his tone. Eighty was more reserved, and cautious. “...Is it the Squid we know?”

It had been a theory in Eighty’s mind, and stuck for quite a while. The people watching them at the screenshot fest, the way Squid had been whisked off so suddenly- The only viable theory was that he had been taken, and botted as a part of SURIVE. It explained his disappearance, and the fact that Squid wouldn’t respond. Purpled’s gaze lowered.

“...No. We still don’t know how to bring him back. But we have him- Contained, for now..” Purpled softly explained, and Chaz’s light hold on Eighty’s hand squeezed briefly in a flash of anger. 

“Contained?? Can I see him, I wanna make sure he’s okay.” Chaz’s guilt over losing Squid, the way he blamed himself for “leaving Squid behind”. Nothing would be getting in the way, even though Purpled and Sammy looked hesitant. Eighty looked at them and quietly nodded. Chaz could take care of himself, they needed to give the other man more credit. He was a skilled player, and besides, Eighty wouldn’t let him go alone. Chaz needed someone to be there, even if Chaz vehemently disagreed. 

And to Purpled’s reluctant agreement, the four of them went off to visit Squidkid, with Eighty having his arms around Sammy and Purpled so the two could support him, with Chazm being the shortest out of the bunch. Going to the Bedwars lobby, it was desolate. Not even the NPCS were there. And right, smack bang in the middle, seemed to be an outline of slabs on the ground. Squid was standing, arms by his side. Utterly still. Over his username, was the guild name. 

[SURIVE]

Eighty felt guilty. His theory was right, and he oh-so wished that he had been wrong. But he wasn't, and now there stood Squid, botted. He seemed to be unresponsive to the four Youtubers joining the lobby, and Sammy and Purpled helped Eighty down the slope as Chaz hovered over to Squid, before dropping down. There were barrier blocks stopping from anyone getting in- Or for the botted player’s virus out. Chaz looked pained, a torn expression across his face. If only he had paid closer attention. 

But there was no changing the past. There was no changing Squid’s fate and current predicament, nor Eighty’s ankle, or any of this. They just had to face what they had. Chaz stood there in silence for a few moments. Purpled’s communicator dinged and he frowned. “Hey, will you guys be okay-? Walli said that they might’ve gotten a lead..” Purpled said, glancing at Sammy, who had already taken out his compass. Eighty went and sat down a little bit away from Chazm, on the small rock nearby the mystery box. Chaz nodded quietly. “Yeah, that’s okay.” He said.

Eighty felt an ugly feeling gnawing at his stomach, growing, but didn’t say a word. Purpled and Sammy nodded, before the two were vanished. It was only then that Squid moved. His head turned, and Chaz stumbled back in surprise and shock, taken off guard by the sudden movement, and the haunting, empty expression. Eighty pushed himself up to his feet, and hobbled over towards Chaz protectively. Squid’s mouth opened, though it wasn’t his voice that came out of it.

“Chazm. Gamerboy80. The two of you, I have an offer.” The bot sounded confidently, walking and speaking in Squid’s body. It was disgusting, and wrong. “If you wish, go against the top SURIVE challengers. Defeat them, and we will stop all of this, free your friend and every innocent player- However, fail to defeat us, and we will bot you. You will give yourself up willingly to us.”

Squid went silent after the last words were spoken, drawn out almost as if a hiss. Eighty blinked a few times. He had been up against the SURIVE bots before, and barely made it out alive. But- Looking at Chaz, Eighty knew deep down in their heart that they didn’t have a choice. Chaz looked worried, but had that determined flare in his eyes that Eighty adored so much.

“..If we don’t do it-” Chaz started, before Eighty nodded in understanding. “I know. This is the easiest way to stop them now.” Eighty murmured in response. It was a high risk, for certain. One wrong move, and their entire beings would fall into the enemies hands. Eighty wished he could do it alone, but he knew Chazm. He knew that he wouldn’t let him, and by god, Eighty wouldn’t let Chaz face this all on his own, either. It wasn’t even a hard decision. 

“Fine. We’ll do it.” Eighty spoke for the two of them and Chazm took a step back to hold onto Eighty’s hand. His eyes flickered down nervously, to the mountain of bandages around his ankle. “What about your ankle-?” Chaz asked, voice softening. Eighty took a breath in. It still hurt, for sure. But this was nothing- He just needed to be able to play, and even if he was injured, he could push through it and still play. 

“It’ll be fine, listen, if we get through this,” Eighty started. If. There was that chance that neither of them would make it through, or worse, that only one of them would make it. That was the worst case scenario, Eighty thought. If he lost Chaz. “...Remind me that I need to tell you something.” No better time to confess your love after fighting for the fate of the world, right?

Chaz gave a slight laugh, pouting. “Aww, but you should tell me nooow-!” Chazm urged, poking him, clearly curious. Eighty waved him off, smiling, trying to stay positive. “Afterwards. I promise.”

I promise I’ll survive. I promise we will both make it through. 

Eighty promised him. 

The world went black, glitches creating whirlwinds taking over their vision as they were transported into the final game, the final fight of life and death.

When Eighty could open his eyes again, he was in a very familiar scenario. In the Airshow generator, leaning heavily against the wall, his ankle in pain. Chazm stumbled slightly, also taking note of his surroundings. It was too familiar. Eighty breathed out. They didn’t get time to prepare. There was a loud thudding around them, and Eighty could spot splotches of water dripping onto the platform.

It was raining. 

“...So not fair.. Didn’t even give us time to figure anything out...” Eighty grumbled under his breath. Iron and gold floated towards the two of them, splitting evenly. Eighty pressed a button on his wrist, to flick up the screen that showed him the game stats. Every other player, aside from the two of them who were placed on the red team, had their names glitching, unreadable. It was like it was switching through letters and numbers, unable to be read or understood. He sighed. That was a little annoying- Not to mention that they all seemed to have a null skin, completely black, like some sort of sentient, twisted shadow.

As he was doing all this, trying to figure out his game plan, Chaz had collected some gold, walked up to the shopkeeper, tossing the ingots in his hand. He handed the shopkeeper the gold, purchasing something. He offered his hand out to Eighty, who looked up. A golden apple. Eighty took it gratefully, and took a bite, feeling the sweet taste of the apple run through his body, the pain in his foot lessening significantly, and he was even able to put some pressure onto it. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do for now.

“I’ll bridge out, if you can start a defence?” Eighty asked, and Chaz nodded. Neither of them usually needed to make a full on bed defence as of late, but now, they needed their bed protected more than anything. Chazm walked to the shopkeeper, presumably buying materials for a bed, as Eighty brought tools and a stack of iron. By then, the team closest to them had already started to bridge over, and so Eighty began to bridge a bit up, before starting to pillar to gain higher ground. As soon as Eighty had enough height over the other player, he leapt off, and hit them in the back of their head with his sword.

They staggered, before plummeting off their bridge and into the void below. Eighty rushed down their bridge, briefly skimming over what mid looked like, before he bridged upwards towards the enemy team’s bridge. By then, the player he knocked into the endless void had respawned as Eighty was running across. He just prayed that no stray fireballs would go in his direction, but to his dismay, as he neared the base, he could tell the other player was standing at the edge of their island, holding a fireball. 

Eighty refused to let it deter him, though, and carried on with his sprinting, holding tightly onto blocks if he needed to clutch- Only seeing a flicker of light as the fireball came hurtling towards him. Swinging out his sword in a wide curve of an arc, the tip of the sword hit the fireball, sending it back the way it came, like a baseball- However, instead of going directly towards the player, it went a bit skew- And to Eighty’s luck, hit the front part of the woollen bed defence. Eighty placed a block under him, using the momentum of his sprint to jump over the gap into the void that the explosion had made, digging the sword into the bed until he heard the crack and the roar of the dragon.

He, distinctly, could hear Chazm saying something in the back of his mind, but Eighty’s blood was boiling. He needed to win this game, his grip on the hilt of his wooden sword was sweaty, afraid to let go lest he drop it. He punched one player, smacking them with the butt of the weapon, before swinging the sword twice against the other player who rushed out of the generator to join in the fight. Eighty placed blocks and darted around them so both players would stumble and fall against them, and it only took Eighty a few more swings to hear the ding of the team being eliminated. 

Eighty dropped the sword, his hands shaking. He wiped it on his pants, peering back towards the base. Chazm was just beginning to run onto the bridge, although as if by luck, he glanced over and caught Eighty’s eye. He was missing the top hat.

One look back at the bed made Eighty realise that Chazm had placed his top hat on top of the bed defence, rain splattering onto it from above. A good luck charm, if you will. With their first rush and enemy taken out so easily- This could be a piece of cake. Eighty just wished that would stay true, but he knew that it wouldn’t be this easy the entire game. Luckily, most of it zoomed by. He and Chaz managed to split-rush and take out most of the weaker teams, since the botted accounts refused to fight against each other, but soon enough, it was only them and two other teams left. Eighty had just gone for a run around mid, collecting four emeralds. 

He returned to the base, standing by the shopkeeper as Chazm leaned back in the generator, wiping sweat from his forehead from the exertion of the complicated game. They had a few close calls, including tnt being dropped from above, and their bed almost being broken- Something that made both their hearts almost stop in their chest. They both were working on trying to get level four prot, having got level three just a bit ago, and both donned iron swords with iron armour, sharpness and iron forage to get fireballs and resources quicker. 

The rain was growing louder, and made the wooden platforms at all of the bases slippery- Chaz had almost slipped off the edge a fair few times, and Eighty had slipped, much to both of their dismay, but he respawned a bit later after falling. It wasn’t that bad, he told himself, though the pain that was fading back into acknowledgement, from his ankle, would say differently. Only green and pink remained. It currently seemed like a stalemate, with green pacing around middle, waiting for the emeralds to respawn and appear back in the jade generators. Pink was presumably at their base, waiting for someone else to attack. Eighty and Chaz were preparing to attack Green base, and the two made sure they were sufficiently stocked up on fireballs, gapples- Chaz even brought a Dream Defender, and Eighty a knockback stick. Crossing over mid was silent. Tense, silence, like twine stretched taut and on the verge of snapping. The game was almost over. Not long now.

They both hoped nothing bad would happen within that time.

It had started off quite simply, really. They went to the base, sneaking onto the bridge. Chazm went on the bridge, and Eighty followed after him, checking over his shoulder. The green player had spotted them from mid and was making their way back to their base. Chaz walked a bit faster. The other green was clearly ready, stepping onto the bridge to try and fight them. Chazm noticed the eagerness of the player, nodding at Eighty, who’s fingers brushed against the knockback stick, inching past Chazm, careful to make sure that neither of them would slip and fall off of the bridge. The player ran up, clearly ready for a confrontation- Before they looked down, the botted player was unable to express true emotion, but still seemed confused. Eighty had barely nudged them with the knockback stick, poking them in the shoulder and flinging them back, almost comically. As they began to fall, Chazm leapt onto the island and began breaking through the bed defence.

Eighty kept an eye behind them, onto the bridge, watching as the other green player reached the start of their base, but was more hesitant to fight against Eighty now that they had seen the knockback stick. Then, a lot of things happened at once. 

One, Chaz broke the bed, sending the dragon’s roar echoing in the arena. Two, the green player that Eighty had knocked off, respawned. Three, the other green player rushed onto the bridge, planning to corner and trap Eighty and Chazm.

And fourth, Eighty and Chaz heard the warning alerts from their communicators. Their miner fatigue trap had gone off.

Someone was at their base. Their bed was going to be broken. 

Eighty didn’t hesitate with taking out his fireballs and flinging them towards the bridge, in attempts to knock off the player, before both he and Chaz stormed towards the inside of the green base. Eighty flipped open the lid to the ender chest, dropping all the items he held. Chaz did the same. They had to void, otherwise they would be killed here, or wouldn’t get back to their base fast enough. 

Items were dropped. The green player in the base ran after them, smacking at the two of them with their sword. Eighty grabbed them by their arm, and began to run. Chaz had already leapt into the void without much hesitation. Eighty just hoped that their bed wouldn’t be broken before they respawned. Dragging the player into the void with him, he watched as the other player, the one he spammed fireballs towards, failed at clutching properly- Tripping when trying to build up, and slipped due to the hard rain pelting down at their face and hands, slipping, and falling down. The four all fell down, down, down-

Green Team has been Eliminated.

Eighty felt the world go dark. Distinctly, he heard a dragon roar, and thought of the matching dragons on his and Chaz’s back. Dragons, symbolically, were beings of passion and strength. Chaz was the strongest person Eighty knew. Eighty- hell, Eighty looked up to Chazm sometimes. He kept going, and there was no one in the world that Eighty thought was braver than Chaz sometimes. Chaz meant the most to him.

Eighty loved Chaz. And now, with their bed gone, on their last legs, Eighty needed to say something.

They respawned in sync, like with everything they did. The Pink Team had blocked off their entrance, and Eighty immediately made a bee-line for his ender chest, snatching his stuff out of it as Chaz collected the materials from the generator to buy some gapples and fireballs, as well as blocks. Fear grappled Chazm’s hands. They had no bed. They were at risk of a permanent death, a loss of control over their own body. They could become mindless droves. He looked over at Eighty, who was staring deep in thought into the purple and blue of the ender chest. Chazm rushed over, to grab his own things that he discarded inside, before both he and Eighty backed up into the generator. 

They only had one shot at this. Chazm took out the fireballs he had brought, handing one to Eighty. Both breathed out. Eighty’s wrist brushed against Chazm’s arm. “It’ll be okay.” Murmured Chaz.

Eighty hoped he was right.

They threw their fireballs, shooting forward and smashing into the barrier of pink wool over their entrance, sending flames and sparks everywhere and making the pink players stumble back. It was almost like a movie entrance, Eighty and Chaz leaping up together, to swipe at the pink players. Chaz managed to get locked in a sword fight with one, blades clashing against one another. This was a fight for his life. 

Chazm jumped into the air as the player attempted to slash at his legs, before Chaz elbowed them in the face, and backhanded them with the sword, sending the player reeling as they stumbled and planted face-first into the bed defence. Chaz grabbed them by the back of their armour plate, rain hammering down hard into his face. Thunder rang violently in his ears, wet droplets splashing down hard onto his face as Chazm threw the player back, using all of his force, to drop them into the void below. Success! Chazm breathed out a sigh of relief.

He turned around to look at Eighty, to check how he was doing with his own fight.

Chazm’s face dropped.

Eighty had been rather successful through most of his duel. But, the wound on his ankle led to slow dodges, and being unable to move out of the way. He and the pink player had their swords discarded, wrestling purely on the ground. The pink player had Eighty pinned, his head having no wet wooden platform beneath, hanging over the void as he gasped for breath, his chest being constricted as the player forced more and more weight onto his chest, crushing his ribcage. He smacked blindly at the player, but they didn’t falter, and Eighty felt himself starting to lose air, lose consciousness. He heard Chazm scream his name at the top of his lungs, voice hoarse and breaking.

“EIGHTY!!!”

Eighty looked over at Chazm- He sounded so distressed, so scared. Had he lost his fight? Had he been stabbed, was he hurt-? Eighty looked up in alarm, the vulnerability, heart tearing in two as Chazm’s cry. And that was all the pink player needed. Slamming Eighty back, the player began to push Eighty closer and closer to the edge, the Bedwars superstar beginning to slip. Gasping weakly, he could feel nothing beneath him, desperately trying to stay up, his core burning with the force of it, otherwise he would fall back and fall off the edge.

Chazm ran towards the pink player and pushed them- Toppling the player over the edge, and into the void, getting their weight off of Eighty.

Unfortunately, their weight was the only thing keeping Eighty on the platform. The water was too slippery, and Eighty’s eyes widened as he slipped- Fingers barely hooking onto the edge of the platform, grasping on for his life.

There was a kaleidoscope of colours pulsating and flickering all around Eighty, his grey sneakers dipping and the toe of them barely lifting enough to miss the staticky electric of the void that glitched below him. The pink player had become a tiny little dot underneath him. Eighty gasped out, hands slipping as his tight grip began to loosen and weaken, he wasn’t strong enough to pull himself up. 

Chaz leaned over the slippery edge, trying to grab at his wrist, to hoist him up onto solid ground. “No, no, no, no- Eighty, come on, get up !” 

Wet splotches landed on Eighty’s face, and he let out a breathless, terrified laugh. Chazm was now sobbing, clinging onto him for dear life. All sense of victory from before fading. Hanging over the void- Whilst he had felt it thousands of times, the experience and fear of death in his throat was more evident than ever, and the man could only stare into the eyes of the one he loved and thought desperately, I don’t want to die . 

They could hold on, Chazm could pull him up, Chaz muttered this like a mantra, but Eighty’s ankle hurt, his body hurt, and he knew realistically at this point, he would only weigh Chaz down. His red eye caught sight of the pink player that Chaz bested earlier, making a return to their base, sprinting towards the bridge from mid and Eighty knew that they didn’t have time. 

Time for them had run out. 

“Let go of me!” Eighty raised his voice, staring upwards as horror flickered across Chazm’s face at the words. “What!? No- No, Eighty-” Chazm began, voice breaking and cracking, no, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t bare to watch Eighty fall. “Please! Eighty, please, don’t-” Chaz reached down with his other hand, struggling to keep a hold on Eighty, both hands clinging painfully to his wrist. Eighty looked down below at the expansive nothingness, before up at the love of his life. 

Chazm was crying.

“P-please don’t break the promise-”

Eighty promised that Chaz and him would both make it out of here together. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

He made Chaz cry, and it tore his heart in two. He needed to say it now, before he was gone to this world. It was something that he had to do. Breathing in, finally able to open up his true feelings, only inches away from death, he said it.

“I love you, Chaz. I always have and always will. Never change for anyone. I just- No one else compares to you. I love you. So, so much. You need to win the game” 

Eighty yelled over the wind and the static that filled both of their ears- It was messy and it was raw with emotion, pure, unfiltered words tumbling from Eighty’s mouth. Chazm seemed to break down further as he heard the words, and now Eighty himself was crying too. Chazm was clinging on tightly to Eighty, squeezing his hand to weakly attempting to pull him up, but to no avail.

With the last of his strength, Eighty reached up with his other hand that hung loose next to him, grabbing Chazm’s wrist and forcing it away. Warm skin broke away from Eighty’s, as Chaz unwillingly let go. 

Weightlessness. 

Maybe in another universe, in another timeline, they would’ve had another chance.

Alas, the fates were lined against them here, as the rain that hailed on them dripped onto Eighty’s face, as Eighty fell, down down down, and Chaz was helpless to do anything but sob, violently pulling himself away from the edge to bury his hands against his face and scream mournfully. 

Eighty was gone. 

The pink player was at the bridge.

The game wasn’t over just yet. 

Chapter Text

What did you do when your best friend of years, years, confessed his love to you and then fell down to his permanent death where he would become a mindless robot used to infect other players? Chazm wondered if there was a guide to this, because he had no flippin’ clue what he was doing!

The rain was still pouring down, splashing onto the wooden platform. He wanted to be angry at it, Chaz wanted to just yell and scream his woes away, blame the skies for Eighty falling, blame the stars for Eighty breaking his promise. Lightning struck one of the faraway blimp island bases, and Chazm flinched as, in the vague misty shadow from the clouds, he spotted the base begin to fall. His eyes widened as the base fell and collapsed into the void. What if the base he was currently on fell? He’d be gone along with Eighty, and he just- he couldn’t do that. Eighty asked him to win the game, and Chaz would do it, for the both of them.

His heart felt like it was bursting- No, no, it was overwhelmed with emotions. But, yet at the same time, he felt… Utterly hopeless. Empty. Hollow. WIthout Eighty by his side, his pinky intertwined with the dual-haired man, who was he?

You’re Chazm. The light of my life. The strongest person I know.

Eighty’s voice answered him. Chazm felt his heart reach out, before twisting. It hurt. But there was no time to focus on that, because the pink player from before was now hopping up to the bridge to Chaz’s base. Chaz stumbled back towards the generator, realising that he didn’t have much aside from what was in his ender chest, frantically spamming to buy something helpful- He got gapples, fireballs and more blocks, before noticing a small egg with grey speckled splotches across the pale shell. It was fairly heavy- Chaz had brought it in case it was needed, and now seemed like a good time as ever to use it. 

As the pink player jumped onto the base, being careful when dropping down, boots making a slight splash, Chaz had already placed the egg down, making sure it cracked. He stayed in the generator, eating a golden apple to feel that flow of strength and power through his veins, watching as the Dream Defender hatched and grew from the egg, growing in the span of a few seconds into a huge, ferisome creature, long arms and red vines trailing down its white-iron body, to reflect the team colour. The player stopped in place, clearly attempting to scan the situation, trying to take the best course of action- When the Dream Defender swept its arms up, flinging up the rose-coloured player into the air and their limbs flailing.

Before they dropped into the void, swiftly. Chaz couldn’t stop thinking of when Eighty slipped out of his grasp- He wondered how long it took for Eighty to fall, where he looked to be at peace or if he was scared. Chaz had been too busy sobbing and crying into his knees to see, feeling his mind spin. Chazm nodded gratefully at the Dream Defender, patting the golem on its back, before he made sure that he had collected everything he might need, and built onto the bridge, to run to the diamond generator. The other pink, the one that Chazm had pushed, the one who had caused Eighty to fall, was still at the base. The Pink Team still had their bed.

Chaz didn’t intend to let that stand for much longer. He abandoned his top hat, keeping it placed atop of the bed defence, the yellow ribbon tied around the base flailing in the wind

Trudging his way across mid and collecting up the jaded emeralds, feeling them rest their weight in his pocket. Chazm made his way to a base fairly close to the pink base, with the emeralds and a couple of diamonds he picked up along the journey, and entered into the base. His eyes hurt slightly, from the crying and aggressive way Chazm rubbed them dry. He was about to open his mouth to let Eighty know he had brought a set of pots, before stopping.

Right. Eighty was gone. The reminder was agonising for Chazm, faltering in all of his movements as he breathed out slowly, attempting to ground himself. 

His fist clenched tightly around the neck of the bottle, feeling the liquid slosh around as his hand shook hard. He felt on the verge of just breaking down, screaming, crying, the whole she-bang… But he had to win this. Chaz just had to get their bed and win the game, for Eighty.

So when the yellow-suited man stood at the edge of the bridge, it was like a final showdown. The two players hadn’t seen him, due to being crouched behind a collection of blocks. He sipped the orange speed potion, wincing at the tanginess of the taste. He popped the cork of the second bottle, already feeling jittery and his heart racing. He swallowed down the jump potion, before soon chugging the invisibility potion, and feeling the way that his body began invisible, unable to be seen by others. It was strange, looking down at his hands, and when angling his hands a certain way, they faded and disappeared. 

He didn’t have time to stare at translucent fingertips, he had to get the pink bed. Chazm didn’t have much time, leaping up, feeling the ground disappear under his feet so he soared through the air, delicately hopping over the bridge until he reached the pink base. Noting down and eyeing the defence, it wouldn’t be too hard to break. It was just the issue of one of the players having diamond gear. The players must’ve realised he was there, as they began to swing their swords around with a vigorous determination, and Chazm left past them, a blade sailing just inches from his face. His arms felt weak, as he realised he had triggered their mining fatigue trap. He didn’t have a lot of time left with his invisibility, so he began to leap up in spot and placed wool under him to tower up speedily.

The players tried to reach him, but were unable to. He had only a second or so of miner’s fatigue left, so he waited as they swung towards the top, still thinking he was building up, and silently slid down the pillar he made and rushed to the end of the bed defence. He broke a block, hearing both of them tumble towards him, and frantically blocked himself in, beginning to mine. It felt like it was all wool, but he felt a sharp spike at the back of his neck suddenly, wincing as he felt blood drip and stain the back of his suit. Spinning around, he tried to place blocks to block himself back in, but realised that the other player was standing, right where he was trying to play it. 

Chaz felt panic spike through him, trying to use whatever he could in his inventory, barely dodging a swipe of a sword through his jugular. In his panic, he switched to a fireball, and smashed it against the player’s foot- It shot them through the air, and Chazm coughed, ears ringing from the explosion only a few blocks away from him- Moving his hand back, he felt soft sheets, and when he glanced over, he realised what happened.

His fireball had destroyed the remaining bed defence. As the one player clutched on the edge of the island rather impressively and the other player swung at Chaz, he stabbed through and tore through the sheets, letting out a yell that he could barely hear over his ringing ears. All the anger, the fury, the rage at Eighty being gone, being dead , was finally coming out as he screamed his grief. The dragon gave a harsh shirke, and all Chaz could think about was matching dragons on their back, warm multi colored eyes, looking at him like he was a gift, an angel, with a softness that no one else was allowed to see, and blindly, he slashed his sword, imagining it was Eighty guiding him through combat for the first time. 

Leaping into the air, heart racing in his throat, tears making his vision blurry, Chaz screamed out in fury. One of the players was laying on the ground, blood seeping from their neck, still, while the other player scowled at Chazm, running at him. Their pink diamond armour has splashes and speckles of blood on them, and Chaz could barely comprehend a thought. He was too low, and when he tried to switch to golden apples to eat them, the player kicked his wrist and Chazm let out a cry of pain as something snapped -

That was his dominant hand. He tried to hold his sword with his other hand, but it was unsteady and- Eighty never managed to teach him how to fight with both hands. Chazm backed away- No more invis, no more speed, no more jump, no more gapples, fireballs, sword, nothing. He ran towards the generator, pressing his back to the wall. This was his fate.

At least Eighty and him would die together, right? Chaz tried to smile through his sobs, grief wrecking his heart, he missed Eighty, he was so, so close. “I’m sorry, Eighty-” He whimpered out, feeling the tip of the blade against his neck. It was going to surge forward, red sharp pain, and then nothing, then only a metallic puppet for whatever sick and twisted being out there.

He just wished that he could tell Eighty that he loved him too. He loved Eighty, he was his moon, his opposite, the stars in his eyes, the warm hugs on a cold, snowy day by a campfire, nothing compared to him. His best friend.

His soulmate.

Chazm remembered once, confiding in Purpled, wishing to him excitedly. He had liked Eighty romantically for so long, but he was scared of asking Eighty, stoicness and all. His cowardice was his downfall, and now it would be it here too. He just wasn’t strong enough. Not without Eighty.

There was the sound of a vwoop , and stumbling, staggering footsteps, and as he felt pain spike into his neck, the blade stopped, before pulling away, the pressure there empty. Only a thin line over his neck could be seen, droplets of blood falling from it onto his shoes. As he opened his eyes, having closed them from the tears, wanting to imagine Eighty’s face before he died, there he saw it.

Eighty standing there, a glowing diamond sword in his hands embedded deep into the pink player, who looked down, before going limp. Eighty’s hair was windswept, wet from sweat and the rain, sticking to his forehead. He was breathing heavily, and Chaz couldn’t do a thing but stare. 

The body fell down, and Chaz still remained motionless. Eighty’s gaze, as yellow and red as always, turned onto him. He pressed his back against the wall tighter. Was- Was this Eighty?

Eighty had fallen into the void. Had- had he already been turned into a puppet? Been botted, just like Squid? Was Eighty… Gone?

Then, a quiet sigh, the clattering sound of diamond against wood as he dropped the sword, and rushed to embrace Chazm, who was sobbing quietly. It was Eighty, it was his Eighty, holding him in his hands.

Eighty hugged Chaz tightly, as the two of them fell to the ground in the generator, Chaz burying his face against Eighty’s chest, crying softly. Very softly, finally, he pulled back and sniffled.

“You- you didn’t let me say it back.” Chaz spoke, voice slightly horse from his screaming and cries of grief. Needless, they were. Eighty looked confused, tilting his head to the side, his hands so, so, warm against Chazm’s cold skin, frozen from the rain, from the wind, from the way his heart had shattered.

“Say what back?” Asked Eighty, a tinge of confusion echoed in his tone. Instead of answering him, Chazm reached out to Eighty, wrapping his hand around the front of Eighty’s jacket, and pulled him in to kiss him, uncoordinated and impulsive- But after his eyes widened in surprise, Eighty’s eyes closed, and he pressed his lips back against Chaz’s. The rain pounded down around them, the two bodies were still bleeding out, but all Eighty could think of was that Chaz was kissing him .

When Chaz pulled away, he pressed his forehead against Eighty’s, breathing out slowly. Eighty could feel it tickle against his lips, dumbfounded. “I love you too, Eighty.” Murmured Chaz, and Eighty couldn’t do anything but give a small chuckle, an adoring look in his eyes.

They had won. The virus had been stopped, as per the SURIVE promise, and they could be happy together. 

They would be happy together, hand in hand, the soulmates smiled at each. It was just them, forever now. And they didn’t need anyone else.

Just them, together for eternity. 

“I love you eternally…” Whispered Eighty, and Chaz gave a soft giggle, leaning close to Eighty. “I’ll love you for eternity too.”

And so they did.