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Everyday was full of danger, alliances, and battles, but for Jepex, the hardest fight was one nobody could see. It wasn’t about the lives or the hearts lost in-game. It was something deeper. Something that clung to him from a time long past—a time he could never seem to fully escape.
He and Mapic had come a long way since those days. Growing up in a town that wasn’t kind to demons had left them both scarred, living off the streets, hungry more often than not, constantly scared. The world had never made space for them. But now, on the lifesteal, they had forged a new place for themselves, with a team that accepted them as equals—The Empire. But old habits, those weren’t so easily left behind.
The team sat around their base, discussing their next moves. Chief and Spoke were off making plans to mess with spawn, while Minute and Mapic were sharing the food they had gathered from a recent stock-up. Jepex sat nearby, silent, watching the food being passed around the table. His stomach growled, but he did his best to ignore it.
Mapic glanced at Jepex out of the corner of his eye, immediately noticing the tension in his friend’s shoulders, the way he stared at the food but made no move to take any. Mapic had seen this before. Too many times, in fact. Jepex was always like this—guilty when there was food in front of him, like he didn’t deserve it.
“Hey, Jexx,” Mapic said casually, tossing him a golden carrot. “You should eat. We need you at full strength for the session later.”
Jepex caught the carrot but hesitated. He stared at it for a moment too long, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. “I’m good,” he muttered, setting it down next to him. His tone was light, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. He didn’t want to seem weak in front of the others, didn’t want to drag them into his mess.
Minute, sitting across the table, furrowed his brow. He had noticed the exchange and had seen Jepex do this a few times before—pushing food away, avoiding meals during server get togethers. At first, Minute thought it was just nerves or maybe a focus thing. But now, it seemed off. It seemed… wrong.
“Jepex, you sure?” Minute asked, a touch of concern slipping into his voice. “You’ve barely eaten anything today.”
Jepex tensed, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not that hungry.”
Mapic’s gaze flicked to Jepex, then to Minute. The unspoken understanding passed between them. Jepex was struggling, and Mapic knew this wasn’t something he could easily push through. He and Jepex had been through too much together—nights of hunger, when food was scarce and guilt became intertwined with survival. Even though they weren’t on the streets anymore, Jepex still carried that burden, as if every bite he took was stealing from someone else.
Minute shifted in his seat, clearly not buying the nonchalant answer. “Look, man, we need everyone in top shape for tonight. You can’t go into this potentional fight on an empty stomach.”
Mapic was silent for a moment, weighing his options. He knew that pushing Jepex in front of everyone might only make things worse, but he also couldn’t let this slide. If Jepex didn’t eat, if he kept falling back into those old habits, it would only hurt him in the long run.
“Minute’s right,” Mapic said, his voice steady but gentle. “We’ve got enough food now, Jepex. You don’t have to worry about it.”
Jepex’s hands curled into fists at his sides, the familiar wave of guilt washing over him. It didn’t matter how much food they had, didn’t matter that they were part of a powerful team now. The fear of not having enough, of being a burden, of taking too much—it was all still there, lodged deep in his mind.
“I know,” Jepex muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t know.”
Minute exchanged a glance with Mapic, confusion and concern written all over his face. “What’s going on, Jepex? You’ve been like this for a while. Is something up?”
Jepex swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing larger with each passing second. He hadn’t meant for anyone to notice. Mapic had always understood—he never pushed, just helped where he could—but the others? He didn’t want to drag them into his issues. They had enough to deal with already.
“I’m fine,” Jepex insisted again, though the words felt hollow. He glanced at Mapic, almost pleading for a way out of this conversation.
Mapic sighed quietly. He couldn’t let Jepex try to deal with this alone, not anymore. “Look, Jepex and I… we’ve been through some tough times before we came here. Food wasn’t always easy to come by. And sometimes…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes that makes it hard to shake old habits.”
Minute’s expression softened, realization dawning on him. He hadn’t known much about Jepex and Mapic’s past—none of them really had. The two demons rarely talked about it, and the rest of the team had assumed it was just something they didn’t want to revisit. But now, hearing it, everything started to make more sense.
“Oh…” Minute began, his voice quiet, understanding. “I didn’t realize.”
Jepex’s hands relaxed slightly, but the weight of the conversation still pressed down on him. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just hard. I know it’s stupid, but I feel like… like if I take too much, then someone else goes without. Even though I know that’s not true anymore.”
Mapic leaned forward, his voice steady but full of empathy. “It’s not stupid, Jepex. But you don’t have to do this alone. We’re not in that place anymore. You’re not going hungry again, not here, not with us. We’ve got you.”
Minute nodded in agreement. “Yeah, man. We’re a team. We look out for each other. No one’s going without—not while we’re all here.”
Jepex looked between them, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit. It was hard, letting others in, even after all this time. But maybe… maybe they were right.
“Thanks,” Jepex murmured, finally picking up the golden carrot again. It still felt heavy in his hand.