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EMF finds Evbo leaping across the Command Blocks at the top of the Parkour Temple and is mildly surprised by this, because even as Evbo easily lands the jump, EMF doesn’t feel anything change.
It’s possible Evbo is just pulling up information or stats, they suppose, but it’s still odd. EMF’s connection to the world and the power of the Command Blocks is a gift to them as Champion and is completely filtered through Evbo. If Evbo alters the world in some way while EMF is elsewhere, EMF feels it, although depending on how large the change is it’s not always immediately apparent to EMF what Evbo is up to. On the other hand, Evbo always knows exactly what EMF is doing on the Command Blocks before EMF ever has to tell him. It’s a godhood thing, EMF assumes. Evbo’s divinity is pure and his alone, and EMF just has a fragment of Evbo’s power on loan.
Evbo pauses for a moment after his jump, either thinking or looking at something EMF can’t see, then turns on a dime and makes another jump. But this one is undershot, and Evbo’s foot slides off the block, ankle twisting as he tumbles to the ground with a yelp.
And that isn’t like Evbo at all, so EMF hurries over. Evbo is leaning his elbows on his knees when EMF extends a hand, prompting Evbo to look up at them.
Their friend’s usual smile is nowhere to be seen, and instead, Evbo just looks exhausted. His normal energy is gone, and he looks wan, pale and drawn. The dark circles under his eyes are nearly the color of bruises.
Evbo takes EMF’s hand and EMF pulls him up easily -- his height makes it effortless enough -- but they don’t let go immediately, instead resting their free hand on Evbo’s shoulder.
“Hey. Are you okay? You look tired.”
“I’m fine.” Evbo is obviously distracted and starts turning back toward the Command Blocks, but EMF doesn’t budge and doesn’t let him free.
“Take a break. You can tell me about what you’re working on. When did you last eat?”
Evbo makes an indistinct I-don’t-know sound but allows EMF to steer him away from the Command Blocks and to a place to sit. They go ahead preparing something for the two of them to eat. Just because their respective boots keep their hunger bar full doesn’t mean that not eating is good for them. At least it’s definitely an issue for EMF. Where Evbo lies on the spectrum of mortal to immortal nowadays is less clear, but he definitely handles things better when he remembers to eat.
The first time EMF ever shared food with Evbo, way back when, Evbo had looked at them like EMF had proposed marriage. At the time, EMF hadn’t been thinking much of it — it was just pragmatic, to give Evbo his sprint back. But in the lower layers especially, sharing food was one of the kindest and notable acts possible. To Evbo, who had lived all his life starving up until the time he ascended the Parkour Temple, it was unthinkable.
EMF has been treated to feasts on the different layers in the times they travel from place to place. They had vague memories of it being done in the Master Layer before with the old Champion, but the old Champion hadn’t been seen much. Once it had been a demanded courtesy, and Players had starved in order to present food to a Champion that had no need of it. EMF had attempted to politely decline the first few times it happened to them, but things were different now, and from Noobs to Fighters, people insisted. Sharing food with the Champion who protected them, under the auspice of their god, was the greatest thanks they could give; therefore EMF chose to accept.
They finish plating the food and hand Evbo his plate, though their friend is staring into the middle-distance as preoccupied as he was before.
Gently EMF coaxes, “What were you up to?”
“I was looking for hidden code.” Evbo answers as he starts picking at his food. It’s an answer, though it doesn’t mean much to EMF.
“Hidden things? Like what?”
“Layers. Game rules. Stuff like that.” Game rules is something too esoteric to make sense to EMF (when Evbo really gets toying around in the finer details of the world’s physics, EMF can’t keep up) but layers?
“You think there are more hidden layers?” EMF asks in confusion.
“I don’t know. But there could be. The Fighter layer was lost, and if not for Seawatt as the only loose string, it would’ve been gone forever. There could be so many more things concealed from us.” Evbo says Seawatt’s name with an utter casualness, the way he always forces himself to. “I need to know.”
“Well…wouldn’t you? Know, that is.” EMF clarifies. “You’re the god of this world now. I doubt there’s any way something can be hidden from you.”
“But what if there is?” Evbo insists, and as he looks at EMF there is fear in his eyes. “Our whole world has always been predicated on lies. There were false memories put into our heads, entire parts of our society hidden away, all of this manufacturing to make sure things would stay the same. Maybe there are more layers, more mechanics we can’t see, or an entire other god that I’m playing second string to. How can I possibly know if we’re still just dolls in someone else’s hands?” Evbo’s voice rises the more he speaks and he’s genuinely shaking some now. EMF blinks at him, eyes wide and plate of food forgotten.
“Okay, um — take a deep breath, Evbo.” Evbo’s concerns maybe aren’t entirely unfounded, but it’s more than a little scary to consider. “I think you’re having a bit of an existential crisis. Which … makes sense, all things considered.” Considering everything he’s been through, he has a good reason to be afraid and unsure. EMF gets up and closes the distance between them, sitting at Evbo’s side and reaching for Evbo’s bandage-wrapped hand. Evbo’s grip is immediately crushing.
“I haven’t found anything yet. I don’t know for sure if I can, or if the Command Blocks are designed to hide data that would reveal things I’m not meant to know.” Evbo keeps rambling and EMF traces a circle on the back of Evbo’s hand with their thumb. “I want to look at the data about dead Players next. If there’s a mistake somewhere, that’s a place that most people would forget to check. If there’s any Player deaths I can’t account for then that’s the first crack I can use to track down the source.”
“Okay.” It’s probably best to act as calm and non-judgemental as possible, EMF thinks. “That … makes sense. Can I ask, when’s the last time you slept?”
“Uhm. Saturday.”
EMF frowns. “And today is…”
“Monday.”
Evbo doesn’t seem to realize that he’s wrong, or else he’s doing a really good job playing it straight. EMF cups Evbo’s hands between their own.
“I’ll help you in any way I can, okay? But before that, I think you need some rest. I can watch over things while you sleep, and then we can work together.”
“If something happens—”
“If I feel like something is wrong, I will wake you up.” EMF calmly interrupts. “Together we can figure it out. But you can’t face it if you aren’t at full strength.”
A nervous energy rolls through Evbo’s posture and he adjusts his grip on EMF before slowly laying his head against EMF’s shoulder.
Quietly, Evbo says, “Okay.” Beat. “Can I brief you on a couple things I’ve been keeping an eye on, though,”
EMF stands, tugging Evbo up. “Yes, as long as we can walk and talk our way towards a bed.” If that’s what it takes to get Evbo resting, EMF can take it.
When Evbo’s passed out a half hour later, curled beneath EMF’s duvet, expression serene, EMF is still holding his hand.