Chapter Text
The silence of limbo greets him as he opens his eyes. The blankness, the overwhelming sense of void, blanketing over his laid down figure. He blinks a couple times, almost a bit confused as to why he’s here.
Ah, right. He died. Again. It only feels normal at this point.
Moving up to a sitting position, exhaustion hits full force. DB feels himself trembling as it gets to him. He starts moving to stand up, only to tumble back to sitting. His legs hurt, almost burn. He can barely register a thing when tears start blurring his vision.
The burns on his face start heating up when the tears touch them. A thousand thoughts scramble around in his brain, picking apart what had happened before sending him to the respawning limbo. His hands lift, trying to rub at his watering eyes.
All he can see is blue. A venomous dark blue that continues to obscure his vision.
A blue that threatens to tear his soul apart, a blue that consumes his army, a blue that corrupts his very being. A team of that color that, every time he faces it, crushes his will and makes him hollow.
He swallows, convincing himself every single time that these troops are being used, like a puppet on a string. He can very well see the being(s) that tug on those strings.
Players. A sickening word that sticks out like a sore thumb. Sure, he is aware that Advisor is there too, a coward hiding behind a com, telling those players what they should do. It almost seems like they are a threat, but DB assumes that even if they had the decency to show themselves, they would simply hide behind those Players backs, shivering and whimpering like a baby.
It makes him laugh, and a dry noise comes out of his throat. It startles him at first, but the cold air of limbo is always so sickly and dry that it drains any moisture.
Players don’t normally seem that big, since Advisor tutorials them, showing them how to play and win. But just the way they are able to slaughter armies, with barely any men at all, it shocks him. He is a God! He has seen many things! But this, this is something that ties a huge knot in his stomach.
He remembers what happened before being stuck in this pitch-black pit. He had finally emerged, after the fools, Builder’s Club, had called him out of pure desperation.
He saw the imitator. An almost tinier, mirror image cloaked in that deep blue. He saw a grin flash on the Player’s face, clapping and slightly giggling as they watched in awe.
A hammer. A BAN hammer, very much like his own, positioned at their side. The blue imitator then swung back their hammer. DB readied himself to whatever came to him.
Pain. Pain against his skull. Against all bones in his body. It hurt. His eyes had closed way before it had hit him. He felt phantom pain immediately start flaring up. It’s like the hit pulled him back to every injury he’s ever had sustained. It hurt. It hurt REALLY bad.
He felt himself cough, bringing him back to reality. Or what little there was of it.
He titled his head slightly. Shouldn’t he have respawned in his room by now?
As soon as he thought that, DB felt his body being dragged, and a white succumbed his vision. It almost felt like his soul had been torn from his body. He had closed his eyes again, hoping to be peacefully respawned in his bed, so he could sleep off the whole day.
What he didn’t expect was a new landscape staring back at him. Turning his head left and right, he looked at this new world placed around him. Houses were arranged in neat rows, with trees making their ways around it and bushes clinging near the actual house.
He slowly got up, still aching from the limbo and respawn. A creak was heard behind him and as he turned to look, a door opened on the house that his back was facing.
“Oh HELL NO!” A gruff voice had rung in his ears. Seeing the clothing, a yellow vest and familiar helmet, he knew who this was.
Road Rager.