Chapter Text
Chosen gazed up until the cursor carrying the five Sticks had vanished.
After a while, he finally looked down, then sank to the ground in exhaustion.
The sky was starting to darken, and the sunset was a deep reddish-pink.
The area was torn up from the fight, deep scars in the ground from Dark and Second’s attacks.
Chosen closed his eyes tightly and grit his teeth.
He didn’t want to follow the trail of torn-up ground that would just tell him again that Dark was gone. He knew it. He couldn’t bear to see it.
Second’s friends had dissolved into data after Dark had destroyed them, but Second had brought them back.
Chosen stared up at the sky, noticing a few stars that had come out. A faint breeze blew over him.
He’d been tempted to ask Second to bring Dark back, but knew if he’d tried to speak, he would’ve started screaming, the reality of the situation finally hitting him.
He knew it probably wasn’t possible anyway. Second’s powers had deactivated, and who knew if it he even could’ve brought Dark back. He hadn’t died the same way as Second’s friends.
But even if it were possible, he couldn’t have asked after everything Dark had done.
What if Dark had come back only to start the fight all over again?
He couldn’t ask. It was selfish and impossible.
A faint sound startled Chosen back to reality.
The breeze stalled a moment, then brushed past Chosen again, bringing the sound with it again.
A chill ran down his back.
He slowly got up and turned his head this way and that, trying to pinpoint the noise.
Finally, he flew into the air, a faint blue glow in the corner of his vision as he used his fire to materialize flaming wings.
When he and Dark didn’t want to use too much energy, they would summon wings. They could summon fire in their hands for flying and firing rapid attacks in midair. If nothing else was going on, it was just more practical to make wings.
Chosen’s hands were hurting too much to use them for flying anyway. His whole body was hurting, but he could still muster the energy to use his wings.
He strained to hear the noise again, and glanced down uneasily to see the long scar in the ground.
The sound was coming from its direction.
No one’s here…so what is it?
Chosen felt a shiver of unease down his back.
Is it Dark’s…ghost…?
He shook his head crossly and kept flying. It didn’t take long to reach the cliff, but the uneasy feeling made it seem longer.
Chosen landed a short distance from the edge and fell to his knees.
He took a moment to rest, but jolted to his feet when the odd noise came again.
He trudged forward, heart thumping and breaths coming quickly.
He staggered and fell again, but managed to look up and see a small crater that had a ring of burned grass all around.
He saw a flicker of movement and dragged himself closer, gritting his teeth.
He saw a small, bright red figure and stared at it, his mind whirling.
The figure moved its arms and legs and and let out a wail.
Chosen pushed himself to his feet, stumbling closer, his eyes wide as his mind caught up to what he was seeing.
Chosen reached out and picked the figure up, then cradled it awkwardly.
He was holding a tiny version of Dark, and the small figure was staring up at him with bright green eyes.
Neon tears trailed down the little Stick’s face, and his tiny hands reached up.
“Dark?” Chosen whispered, looking him over for injuries but finding none. “Is this…you?”
Dark’s cries quieted as Chosen slowly rocked him, and he was soon sleeping soundly.
Chosen shook his head in disbelief, then closed his eyes and concentrated.
A flickering green light appeared in his mind’s eye, and he knew it was the little Stick’s aura.
It’s the same as Second’s, he thought in confusion. But he…he still feels like Dark.
Chosen stood up and glanced up. The sky was a deep blue now, and more stars were out.
He turned and made his way back to the small lab Dark had used.
Once there, he shifted Dark to the crook of one arm and opened a search bar, glad the console was still intact. After a while he began to type, pausing every now and then to think. When he finally stopped an hour later, the small lab was a decent-sized house with a couple rooms, made of wood instead of concrete.
Chosen trudged to the nearest room, carefully putting Dark in the crib he’d programmed in. With a tired sigh, he pulled a blanket over the small Stick and watched him for a moment, listening to his quiet breaths.
Then Chosen trudged back to the main room and typed for a while. When he finished, he trudged to the room across from Dark’s, where a desk, bed and lamp on a bedside table waited.
He glanced back at Dark’s room before getting into the bed.
Chosen stared into the hallway for a little while, but finally couldn’t keep his eyes open.
Some time later, he awoke with a jolt, and hurriedly got out of bed.
Running into the other bedroom, he looked into the crib, feeling a mix of relief and incredulity as he saw the small Stick was still there.
Dark had rolled onto his stomach during the night, and was currently sucking his thumb.
It wasn’t a dream, Chosen thought. How old is he? I’ve never seen a baby before…
Chosen swayed suddenly, almost falling, but he managed to grip the crib for support. When the dizzy spell passed, he checked on Dark again, then sighed heavily and went back to his room.
Chosen’s powers had started to heal his wounds, but he knew he’d need a lot of sleep to fully recover.
Is this real? Chosen thought in a daze as he began to drift off. Is he really alive? I’ve never heard of a baby Stick…how should I take care of him?
Chosen focused and could still sense Dark’s aura.
It’s really him…he’s really alive. Did you do this, Second? And if you did…how?
Chosen drew his legs up to his chest, feeling a knot of emotion that made his eyes burn.
I don’t know…I might never know…but I’m…I’m glad he’s alive…
Second…whatever you did…thank you…