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Skizz swam up the bubblevator, stone cold determination set in his mind. His whole day had been a mess of failures, deaths, and more failures. He was sick of it. He was sick of the failed traps, sick of the pathetic attempts to gain himself back more time. He was sick of Limited Life.
That whole week last week, he had been entertaining the question of self sacrifice in the back of his mind. He had been tethering on the edge of death, just barely managing to scrape by with a measly thirty minutes at some points. It was hopeless.
Worthlessness corroded his mind, and as much as he tried to deny it, to push it out, it festered in his negative mindscape.
Because he had failed. He had failed himself, he had failed his teammates. He had failed team TIES.
Skizz emerged from the bubblevator, and brought up his communicator to type out a single message into chat. His last message.
Skizzleman: Chicken
Chicken was the new Windsor, hopefully his teammates could get to Skynet before his thirty minutes of life left was up.
Because Skizz had already proven that he was just incapable of killing for more time, and the heavy weight of failure pressed down on him. Everytime the face of death flashed in front of his eyes, his spirits were brought down even further, until utter hopelessness consumed his very being.
He sighed, walking down the cobblestone path to the platform above the Coral Isles, and began to construct a makeshift roof above it.
It was his fault, really. All those failed attempts at gaining time brought team TIES even more enemies. In the end, really, they didn’t have any alliances. Skizz guessed it was his obligation as leader to take accountability for that.
What he didn’t think was the fact that team TIES would have to elect a new leader soon.
Finally, once impatience had run its course and he was tapping his foot quickly against the cobblestone ground, sending frequent glances to his ever dwindling time, Skizz heard the sound of running footsteps in the floating path, and he turned.
“Impulse,” he greeted, relief flooding his voice.
“We’re dropping like flies here, man. What are we doing?” Impulse said, running a distressed hand through his hair.
“I’ve got twenty four minutes,” Skizz replied, turning his slightly guilty gaze away from Impulse, instead to look over the railing to the branches off of Skynet, where Grian was stood, placing even more TNT minecarts. He sighed before continuing. “It has to be done.”
“Twenty four minutes?” Impulse exclaimed, his bright red eyes wide with concern and shock.
Skizz promptly ignored the look, and continued talking, his eyes pinpointing on a certain man with fiery blonde hair and tinted red glasses. “Here comes Tango, dunno if he’s gonna make it.”
“We gotta get you some time back!” Impulse’s voice sounded frantic, but resignation shot through Skizz like a bullet, and he merely sighed, leaning against the railing.
Impulse fell silent, staring at him, realization dawning in his eyes.
“Skizz-”
“It has to be done,” Skizz shut Impulse down, not wanting to hear his argument.
Impulse’s words died, but concern was still painted all over his face. Skizz hated that he was the cause of that emotional distress.
Tango came running down the cobblestone path, slightly out of breath, with a panicked look presenting itself in his features.
“They almost got me there, I dunno what happened!” he exclaimed, stepping through the break in the railing to the platform.
Skizz propped his elbows on the railing, looking over at the calm water below, letting the cool breeze rustle his hair and blow its cool air across his face.
“Tango, buddy, what’s your time at?”
Tango paused, consorting his communicator. “I’m at three twenty three,” his voice picked up at the end. “Why?”
Skizz ignored him like he ignored Impulse. He let the breeze wash over his face one more time, before facing his teammates.
He lifted his chin up, and began to speak, his voice steady and even. A complete contrast to the frantic beating of his heart.
But he knew he had made the right decision. Maybe, just maybe, it would keep his teammates in the game longer.
“Alright, gentlemen,” he started, surveying the two in front of him. “It’s been an honor.”
“Oh, no,” Tango said, his voice bordering nervousness.
“What are you doing?” Impulse asked, his eyebrows knitted, but something akin to a warning in his tone.
“I love you guys,” Skizz continued, never stopping a beat. He dropped his items, his armor. A ghost of a smile flickered over his face.
“What are you doing?” Tango asked, repeating Impulse’s earlier question, although this time with a note of panic in his voice.
“It’s been an absolute honor,” Skizz held his arms out, his smile widening.
“No it hasn't!” Tango yelled, his hair becoming engulfed with flames for a moment, then normal blond again.
A note of frustration and determination shone in Skizz’s eyes, and he took a deep breath. His voice came out louder than he had intended.
“My time is not going to anyone else. I can’t get it done, it’s going to one of you.”
“What?” Tango breathed, disbelief clouding his eyes.
“It’s going to a member of TIES.”
“No!” Impulse exclaimed, refusal prominent in his words. “No!”
“No, dude, we want you!” Tango’s voice was desperate, his hair fire once again. “We need numbers!”
“This is my final order,” Skizz kept talking, never letting the other’s panic deter him from his final act as leader. “One of you has to kill me now.”
“Skizz…” Impulse started, his voice breaking and trailing off.
Despair filled his heart to its breaking point, and he sent a glance towards the land beyond the water. “I- I just demonstrated I cannot get it done! It has to be one of you.”
“Well, if anyone, it needs to be Etho,” Impulse said, his voice resigned, but Skizz could see the way they shone with barely disguised tears. “If this is the way it has to happen, he has the least amount of time.”
Tango stared at him, his eyes wide, disbelief still shining in them.
Skizz ran a hand through his hair, then tugged at the dark strands. “I hate it. I hate it! But I’m not allowing my time to go to anybody but a member of TIES. TIES has to get to final three.”
“How much time do you got right now, Skizz?” Tango asked, his voice desperate.
Skizz sighed, checking his communicator. “Twenty three minutes.”
“No!” Tango exclaimed, but Skizz turned away from him in a feeble attempt to not see the shock and anguish on his teammates face.
“Are you serious? You don’t want to try to go after someone else?” Impulse asked, a final note of hope shining through the anguish in his voice. Skizz hated to see that hope plummet with his next words.
“I really thought if I went nuts I would get some kills- I’m losing every time,” his voice broke, and humiliation flooded his stomach, but he forced himself to continue. “I actually got one kill, then I lost like three times.”
“And one more and you’re done,” Tango finished, his eyes now also shining with tears.
“One more and I’m done,” Skizz agreed, taking off his final piece of armor.
Etho came running through the path, his hair windswept and eyes confused.
“Etho, I’m gonna give you that,” he handed Etho a bucket of pufferfish. “And I’m gonna ask you to take this axe.”
Tango sighed, looking like he wanted to do something to interfere, but not daring to move from the sidelines.
“Put that axe in your hand, and do it.”
Etho stared at the axe, uncertainty and nervousness reflecting in his eyes, the bright red shining as he then stared back at Skizz.
Skizz turned away from Etho, and knelt, his head bowed. “I love you guys,” he said from where his eyes met the cobblestone floor. “I do!”
“Are you out of time?” Etho asked, his voice confused, but growing concerned. “What’s happening?”
“I have twenty two minutes left, and this is my final order. My time will not go to anybody else.”
Tango gave an anguished noise, but Impulse wrapped a comforting arm around the man’s shoulders, bringing him close to him.
“TIES gets to the final three! That’s it, Etho, do it.”
Skizz couldn’t see behind him, but he heard no rustling of fabric indicating that Etho was moving. So he glanced back.
Etho’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. He gripped the axe tight in a vice-like grip, and he stared back at Skizz with an uncertain gaze.
“Do it,” Skizz smiled, acceptance finally clearing his mind.
He turned back around, and bowed his head again, bracing one hand against the ground, his eyes closed.
He heard Etho raise the axe, heard Tango’s muffled sobs, heard Impulse’s soft whispers of assurances.
A sharp pain in the back of his neck distracted him. He felt something warm dripping down from where Etho had swung the axe. Then, he felt nothing at all.
Darkness swirled around Skizz, and he reopened his eyes to the sight of… absolutely nothing. He stared into the dark expanses of the void, and it stared back. Well, as much as emptiness could stare, anyway.
Then, he heard quiet mutterings behind him, and Skizz spun around.
There, with his knees pulled to his chest, was none other than the canary. Skizz felt a pang of sympathy in his heart for Jimmy. He looked much too fragile, much too small and scared in the fetal position.
Skizz cautiously approached, hoping not to scare the man.
“Jimmy? Buddy?” he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
He and Jimmy had been enemies in Limited life. But none of that mattered now. Limited life was over for both of them, and Skizz had to help his friend.
Once Skizz neared Jimmy, he saw into his eyes properly. They were… empty. He stared into the expanses of the void, wide eyed, and muttering things under his breath, but his gaze was not wavering, and his pupils were not moving, even as Skizz drew closer.
“Jimmy?” Skizz tried again, but Jimmy would not respond.
Skizz settled himself down on the void next to Jimmy, not sure what to do.
He turned towards the canary, tilting his head slightly. He picked up on what Jimmy was muttering about.
“-ey pushed me. I didn’t slip. They pushed me-”
Jimmy broke out of his trance.
He turned to Skizz, his eyes wide and haunted.
“They pushed me, Skizz. They pushed me.”
Skizz looked back, taking in a deep breath.
“Grian and Joel?” Skizz asked, unsure of the situation.
Jimmy shook his head almost fervently, his now gray eyes growing wider. “No, no! They would never. Them!”
Jimmy pointed to the inky darkness, and Skizz stared at the point where Jimmy indicated, raising his eyebrows.
“And who exactly are They?”
Fear flooded Jimmy’s eyes, and he pulled his knees up closer to his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around them.
“I don’t wanna say it here.”
They fell into a not entirely comfortable silence, where Jimmy was still shaking slightly, but the muttering had at least ceased.
Skizz got tired of the haunted look in Jimmy’s eyes. He slightly held his arm out, an invitation.
Immediately, Jimmy dove at Skizz, engulfing him in a bone crushing hug, his whole frame shaking with silent sobs.
“I didn’t slip, they pushed me,” he choked out between cries, and Skizz felt the back of his shirt growing damp.
Skizz tightened his hold around the canary. “It’s okay, Jimmy. We’re not there anymore.”
Skizz didn’t know how long he and Jimmy stayed like that. But it was long enough for Skizz to make a resolve in his mind. He would protect his fellow Lifers no matter what. No matter their team, alliance, or motives.
It was Skizz’s responsibility as a leader after all.