Chapter Text
Another injustice.
Another failure.
Another planet, reduced to dust and flame.
Another people, who failed to learn the lessons of their forebears.
It was not there to judge. It was simply there to clean up the mess, to ensure that the clocks kept ticking and what went up came down. And, more importantly, that who went up came down.
But It was so very tired of this role. Of this monotonous purpose, of seeing the same mistakes replayed over and over. It was like watching someone hurt themself, again and again, and every time they expected you to come along and make it all better.
So, It decided to quit, to give everything to the Worms.
Perhaps they could manage this mess better. They certainly couldn’t do worse.
And, It reasoned, if all these people were bound to never learn from their errors, then perhaps a repeating Cycle would suit them better. So many of them had prayed, begged, for immortality, to live forever and never die. It was just giving them what they wanted, It concluded.
Those were the justifications that Death gave when It resigned.
~~~
Retirement was not what It had expected.
But, what had it expected? Nothingness? An ending?
It was the ending.
Instead It was… somewhere. Somewhere like nowhere, but… less?
The whole of this non-place was colorless, but a bit blue around the nonexistent edges, and gave the impression of a cloud on the verge of becoming a storm. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but wasn’t pleasant, either. Just sort of vaguely there.
It became aware It was not alone. A strange feeling, because It had always been alone, but here, where there was nearly nothing, there was someone.
Someone who was looking at them. This other being was a splotchy patch of black and blue and red. They seemed to be smeared across the nowhere like a rotten fruit thrown onto a hot street, all lumps and rinds and juices.
It realized It looked like something as well, given that this other was looking at It. It was green and gold, tall and smooth and even. It seemed to be everything this other was not.
Not.
The word that cut through the nothing wasn’t Its. The other had spoken to It, or at least formed a word that It could understand. It could understand all words, of course, but still, It felt something It never had before.
It was surprised.
Hello.
It had given greetings before, back when It still answered prayers. But It had never before spoken to anything It did not know, did not understand the motives of.
For the first time, the being that had been Death felt excitement.
Apprehension.
Fear.
Hello? Hello!
A strange response. Was this other just copying It? It needed to know more about this thing that shared the place that It now called Its home.
Who are you?
There was no time to pass in this non-place, but there was a pause.
I am… Not.
“If you didn’t want me to comment on your appearance…” Enot began, in that way she always did when she was about to say something cheeky. “Why’d you make yourself so handsome?”
Saint didn’t bother with a response. They had long ago learned that engaging with her silly antics, even just to try and shut them down, would only act as encouragement for their capricious companion. Better to provide some form of distraction, something to keep her occupied and keep their peaceful retirement… peaceful.
“Shall we see what the newest sapiens are up to?” Saint offered. They didn’t actually like this hobby of voyeuristically peering in at the world of mortals, but they knew that it was Enot’s favorite pastime, and the only guaranteed way to get her to focus on something other than pestering them.
“Oh?” Enot’s response was immediate, the gleaming of her large, pale eyes growing to a shine as she tried—and failed—to hide her interest.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind. For a little bit.”
In an instant, the both of them were standing on the damp, rusted surface of some aged piece of metal, staring out at foggy skies and murky ruins. They were not really there, of course, but it was close enough for them to observe.
And, as always, when they came to view a species, their forms took the shape of what they were watching. Saint took a glance over to Enot, and saw that she had kept her usual colors, shimmering and splotchy in a way that wholly unsuited the light of any “real” place, alongside her wide, white eyes. Otherwise she was every bit passable as a typical slugcat.
If you squinted, anyways.
“Hmm.” She hummed to herself as she looked down at her new appearance before bounding up to Saint with a raised eyebrow. “How do I look?”
“You got the arms wrong. Too thin.”
Enot frowned in response to this. “That was your opportunity to compliment me. I put a lot of work into getting all dressed up, and you don’t even care, do you?”
She followed up her statement with an exaggerated pout before pushing Saint gently on the shoulder.
“What’s with all this fuzz, anyway? You look like a plush rug.”
Saint glanced down at their own form. They hadn’t really put any thought into it, simply going along with whatever their instincts told them to. They were typically green and tall, as practically all of their manifestations tended to be, but also lean and willowy, and coated with a layer of dense fur that puffed off of them at every angle.
“It seems I needed to be fuzzy.” They responded with a shrug. “If there is a reason for it, it will reveal itself in time.”
“Pfft.” Enot rolled her eyes dramatically, her eyeballs briefly flying off her face from the force of her exasperation. “How predictably smug and cryptic of you. You could just admit that you want to be soft and fluffy and huggable.”
Saint could see this was going to the usual nowhere, so they turned their focus to the world around them.
“This place again. Did you choose it?”
Enot gave them a smug grin that was all the answer needed. “It’s an interesting place, no? Those… what were they called… Beneficents?”
“Benefactors.”
“Right, them! They were so fascinatingly flawed, wouldn’t you agree?”
Saint sighed. “I didn’t find them any different from the thousand other civilizations that came before them. They ruined their planet and then destroyed themselves. Same story as always.”
Enot laughed in response to this, her trilling chittering echoing in ways that normal sound didn’t and couldn’t. “You’re right, of course. But these Beneficiaries were something special! So little doubt, so much fervor… and they left such a compelling mess, too. Speaking of which—”
She paused to glance around at the dankly-dripping ruins.
“Where’s our entertainment?”
As if on cue, a quiet thump came from below their feet, and out from a crawlway in the ground nearby, a bright purple figure emerged, lean and sharp and armed with a pair of pale spears. It was a slugcat, of sorts.
“Whoa.” Enot gasped. “What’s going on with this freakazoid?”
Saint turned to look at her, briefly considering bringing up some adage about pots and kettles, before deciding against it.
“They are a genetically engineered organism. A purposed being, made only to carry out a task.” As they spoke, Saint felt an old bitterness rise in their voice. “There is nothing more pitiful than an existence that is driven solely by its perceived duty.”
Enot tilted her head at this. “Oh? I don’t think that sounds so bad. Better than being some aimless nothing.”
She took another look at the creature as it continued on its way.
“Then again, if having purpose meant that someone would come along and make me look like that… maybe not.”
Without responding, Saint simply continued to watch the purple slugcat—
Its chosen name was Spearmaster. It had taken that title as it crossed the mud-sea, climbed the old walls, and entered into the land of the twins. It was on a mission, one of interminable urgency. Failure was not an option, and for it, failure was not a possibility—
Saint took a deep breath, reeling from the intruding thoughts. They had been away for so long that such lapses were common when they came back. Memories, life, feelings, all of it would soak into them if they let their guard down. They didn’t like it.
“You good there, big guy?” Enot’s voice was quieter than usual. “Getting another flash?”
“I’m fine.” Saint kept their eyes on the purple slugcat—on Spearmaster. “This one is arrogant.”
“Yeah?” Enot smirked. “Sure you’re not projecting just a little?”
Saint couldn’t help but glare at her for that comment. “I am nothing like this fool. They care only for the task in front of them, and will continue it no matter what fate awaits them.”
They found that they were angry. A rare feeling for them, or at least it should’ve been, but every time they visited back to the world of mortals, that anger seemed to grow unbidden.
“Both of us are nothing like that slave, remember? We chose to be free.”
“Right!” Enot nodded quickly. “Still, feels like you might be being a little harsh on—”
She glanced past Saint, her eyes tripling in size as she did.
“Whoa, we got some action over here!”
Saint turned back to look at what Enot was ogling at. Spearmaster had just crossed paths with a tremendous example of the local wildlife—a roaring, hissing, long-frilled red lizard. As it reeled back and began launching globs of sticky spit, Saint looked away disinterestedly.
“I suppose that’s the end of this one.” They said, heaving another sigh. “A typical story. A life driven by mindless purpose to a death as pointless as any other.”
Enot didn’t turn away, though. She kept her eyes on the slugcat, and just as Saint was about to ask her if they could move on, they heard the lizard’s growling hiss turn to a squeal of rage and pain. Reluctantly, Saint turned back to look as well.
The lizard was thrashing and writhing in pain, two pale needles lodged in its back, Spearmaster on the ground behind it, scrambling up a nearby cliffside as the ferocious beast snapped round after them with near-supernatural speed. As they reached the top of the cliff, the lizard slipped in its climb after them, weakened by its injuries—giving just enough time for Spearmaster to flee into a pipe.
“Those were some nice moves.” Enot grinned, clearly enthused. “Maybe this guy isn’t such a freak after all?”
“They are arrogant and misguided, as I said.” Saint spoke with a faint huff. “Being lucky once doesn’t change that.”
This got another laugh from Enot. “Is that so? You’ve really got something against Speary here, dontcha?”
“I do not.” Saint shot back, firmer than they intended. “I just know a fool when I see one.”
“Oh, is that so?” Her voice was obviously teasing at this point, and Saint knew that this was where they should disengage from the conversation. “Then how about a little wager?”
“Not a chance.” They responded with a deep breath. “I have no interest in such juvenile games. And it’s not like we have anything to bet, either.”
Enot’s smug grin widened enough that it extended off the corners of her face, dangling in the air and dripping with insufferability. “Sounds to me like you know you’ll lose, Saint.”
“I hope you don’t think such a tactic is going to work on me.”
“I thought you were right about everything. Surely you’re not wrong about something like…” She glanced over to the pipe that Spearmaster had fled through. “Whether or not that ‘arrogant fool’ can survive to the end of their task?”
“I am right about that. They won’t.” Saint snapped back. “I just don’t feel the need to play along with you.”
“If you’re so sure, then you don’t have anything to lose!” Her voice was persistent to the point of being needling.
“I don’t—”
“Come on, just this once!”
“Fine.” Saint gave in with a heaving sigh. They had long ago learned that they weren’t going to get anywhere trying to argue. She had a persistent and troublesome way of getting what she wanted that they were helpless to do anything against.
They couldn’t deny that they did find that persistence somewhat endearing, though.
“So, what’s the stakes?” They asked.
“How about a ki—”
“No.” Saint didn’t let her finish the sentence, a frown fixed across their face.
“Worth a shot.” She grinned. “Okay, how about…”
Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, Enot was uncharacteristically silent. Saint cleared their throat, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“How about?”
“It’s kinda dumb.” Enot sighed. “But how about, if I’m right, you’ve gotta promise me something?”
“Promise you what?” Saint didn’t know if they liked the sound of that.
“I’m not gonna tell you until I win~” She said with a wink.
They scoffed at her usual immaturity. “I’m not going to agree to that. You’ll just use this unknown promise to make me do something ridiculous.”
“No I won’t!” Enot shot back in a huff. “I swear, it’ll be something reasonable.”
“Alright, assuming that I do go against my intuition and agree… what do I get if I win, then?”
“Same thing as me, of course!” She responded with a wide smile. “If you win the wager, then I’ll promise anything, no matter what!”
“Even if I make you promise to stop with your pointless attempts at flirting?”
Enot gasped. “You wouldn’t! Would you?”
It was Saint’s turn to smile. “I believe the rules are that I don’t have to tell you until the bet’s over, right?”
Enot seemed taken aback. “Saint… are you being coy with me?”
Her face practically exploded into a grin. “I didn’t know you had it in you. Alright, you’re on, big guy. Now, let's hurry and catch up with our latest entertainment—you know the rule, they’re only dead if we see it happen!”
“Whether or not we’re watching has no bearing on the outcome.” Saint waved a befurred hand. “But yes, let’s move on.”
They did not travel, but rather, with just the effort needed to form a thought, Saint shifted the focus of their observation. The world around them whistled by in a blur of messy color and sudden spates of darkness whenever they passed through a solid object. Once again, they came to rest on rusted metal, but this time they were far higher, perched on an aging bit of walkway.
This much higher, the air was clearer, and from where they had placed themselves, both Saint and Enot could see Spearmaster, climbing the towering canopy of metal upwards. At the tail of the slugcat, a pair of snapping cyan-colored lizards were giving chase, predator and prey alike dancing around the old walkways and pieces of rebar as the lizards jetted about trying to claim their kill.
“Think they’re gonna make it?” Enot called over with a smirk as she peered down.
“We’ve seen it deal with lizards before.” Saint said levelly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it makes it past this too.”
“Hmm.” Enot frowned. “That makes it less interesting, doesn’t it?”
“Shouldn’t you be pleased?” Down below, Spearmaster sent an organic needle flying into one of the two lizards. “You’re betting on its survival, after all.”
“Bets are no fun if there’s no risk!” Enot sighed. “Can’t we just skip to something more interesting?”
Saint didn’t roll their eyes. Instead, they gave a wave of their hand once more, and the scene before them sped to a blur as time contracted. When it slowed, their subject was in an even more precarious situation than previously—Spearmaster was being chased across an open bridge by a trio of ravenous-looking vultures, the leader of which was distinguished from the others by a pair of gleaming harpoons and a vibrant red mark on its mask.
“Here we go!” Enot’s voice warbled brightly with excitement. “Let’s see some blood, Speary!”
Saint chose to remain silent, watching intently as the slugcat dove out of the way of a lashing harpoon, rolling forward and leaping to their feet, pure adrenaline and instinct guiding their every move. The vultures craned their long necks to cut off any escape route, and suddenly, Spearmaster was cornered.
“What gives!” Enot hissed, leaning in closer and waving one of her noodly limbs in a series of emphatic gestures. “Why ain’tcha fighting, you dumb rat!”
“It can’t hear you.” Saint winced. “I can, however, so keep it down.”
“But this is outrageous! They’re practically feeding themself to these ugly birds!” Enot was waggling both arms at the scene now, bringing to mind some sort of beached jellyfish. “They need to fight back or something!”
“No. They are smarter to try and run.” Saint watched as Spearmaster slid under the lumpy belly of one of the vultures, scrambling away as the vicious creatures became tangled in each other while trying to catch them. “It does nothing to help their purpose by fighting these beasts. Such focus could be called commendable.”
Enot raised an eyebrow. “If they weren’t so foolish for having a purpose at all, right?”
“Right.” They nodded in response.
The king vulture had risen above its weaker kin, leveling another harpoon at Spearmaster as they continued to try and flee. The purple slugcat seemed to notice the glare of the red sighting beam too late, and Enot yelped as the harpoon launched forward with a loud thwang.
“I can’t look!” She cried as she leaned in closer.
To the surprise of both observers, Spearmaster was still standing, the harpoon having hit the end of its tether just before it would’ve plunged directly into the slugcat’s heart.
Saint let out a breath they hadn’t known they were holding.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Enot pumped both fists into the air, jumping about with cartoonish glee. “You’d better get ready to lose that bet!”
“It can get lucky once, it can get lucky twice. It will not be lucky every time.” Saint responded, but as they watched Spearmaster slip away, they felt the needle-thin fingers of doubt creeping in. Had they underestimated this creature?
No. They knew the measure of all living things. That hadn’t changed in all the long years of their retirement. The slugcat would die soon, as they had predicted.
And yet, when Spearmaster cleared the jump between the dangling bridgeways and the towering superstructure, they did so effortlessly.
And yet, when they were attacked on all sides by a pack of lizards during the precarious climb up the structure’s wall, they escaped with ease.
And yet, when the vultures from before returned with vengeance in their eyes, they sent them fleeing with needles in their wings.
And yet, and yet, and yet…
And yet, here the slugcat was, at the top of the climb, stopping to look out over the cloud layer at the distant spires and stars.
“Hmm?” Enot raised an eyebrow, peering closely at Spearmaster, near enough that she would’ve been well within touching range, were she actually there. “Why’re they stopping?”
Saint didn’t respond. They simply glared at the slugcat. Why hadn’t it died? What drove it on, kept it to its purpose? They were frustrated at being wrong, but that frustration was starting to give way to genuine curiosity—this creature shouldn’t have, by all odds and chances, made it half as far as it had.
Spearmaster abruptly raised an arm, pointing directly into Enot’s face; they were not pointing at her, of course, but at what they saw behind her. Enot spun around, and Saint turned as well, both of them peering out at what was being pointed at, a structure much like the one they stood on.
Curling their hand into a fist, Spearmaster gave a nod to the distant box of grey metal, bringing their fist to their chest as they did.
“What’s that about?” Enot tilted her head, glancing over to Saint for an answer.
Saint kept their gaze fixed on the slugcat.
“A show of loyalty.” They spoke softly. “The connection between the creator and the child.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s not something we could understand.” Saint turned away from Spearmaster.
While they wouldn’t admit it out loud, there was more to this creature than they had expected. It should've left them angry, and it did, in some small way—but mostly, they found themself relieved to have been wrong.
“Whatever you say.” Enot gave a shrug. “Our guy here is getting pretty close to their goal, aren’t they?”
“They are.” Saint nodded. “It’s unlikely they will run into much more trouble from here.”
~~~
It was an hour later when Saint and Enot watched Spearmaster crawl out from a pipe duct, one hand gripping onto their gaping chest wound, the other clutched around the pearl that had caused the damage through its forceful extraction.
Enot was silent, though she opened her mouth once or twice, seeming to be searching for something to say. After a few more false starts, she finally spoke up.
“I guess we shouldn’t have expected anything better, huh?” Her voice was trying hard to keep its typical casual note. “But still, to come all this way, to deal with all that, just for… this.”
Saint only kept watching Spearmaster as they limped away, thick lavender blood dribbling on the ground and running through their thin fur. A hole in their heart, scorned by one who they had sought to help—and yet they continued on.
“Let us leave.” Saint kept their voice even. It was not easy. “I do not want to see any more.”
For once, Enot raised no objection.
When they returned to the other place, Saint shed off their assumed slugcat form like a heavy coat, doffed as one came out of the cold. Enot, on the other hand, kept her shape, somewhat to Saint’s irritation.
“So, what’re we up to next?” Her voice was chipper and lightly dissonant. “Maybe we could play a game! Feels like it’s been forever since we sat down for some cards.”
Saint gave a non-answer in the form of a light grunt.
“Doesn’t have to be cards! We’ve got so many options, why don’t you pick for once?” Enot materialized a small, shoddily formed couch and table, and placed the manifestation of herself on one seat before patting the cushion next to her. “Well? Any suggestions?”
Saint was quiet still.
“Anything at all?”
“I have a suggestion.” Saint spoke up. “Leave me alone.”
Enot faltered, her smile dropping from her face. “Oh. Okay then.”
After neither of them said anything more for a few minutes, she dejectedly let the furniture melt back into nothingness and drifted away from Saint. On their side of the infinite, Saint curled in on themself, not to sleep, but to enter a state of inactivity. For how long, they didn’t know.
They rested there, trying to avoid thinking of duty and guilt. It was not a pleasant repose, and they felt the whole time that they should be doing something else. That feeling ate away at them, building and building, until the nagging sense of restlessness forced them to move once more.
When they checked on Enot, she was still in her slugcat shape, sitting on the crude couch from earlier, a poorly-formed image of Saint’s own slugcat form sitting next to her.
“No, no. You can’t—No!” Enot giggled. “That’s not the rules. Yes, I know I was wrong last time, but I’m sure of it now! You roll the dice, then you pull the card! Now, hurry up, I’m still-”
Her voice trailed off when she noticed Saint drifting over to her.
“Uh.” With a frantic wave of Enot’s hand, the fake Saint vanished. “Hey there!”
She gave a smile that would’ve been awkward even if she wasn’t awfully bad at shaping faces. “Feeling any better, big guy?”
“I’m…” Saint began. Some part of them felt like they should apologize to her. Their pride didn’t let them.
Instead, they took on their slugcat shape and settled onto the couch next to her.
“So, what’s the game?” They asked, looking down at the mess of cards and pieces on the table.
“Ah, it’s not really a game—not a real one anyway.” Enot sighed. “But uh, maybe you’ve got a good one we could play?”
“I know a few.” Saint smiled. “Back when I was still… working… I sometimes let people challenge me to games.”
“Games for their lives, one last chance style?” Enot’s eyes gleamed. “Sounds like fun. High-stakes. Any of ‘em ever win?”
“No.” Saint thought back. “But some of them tried very, very hard.”
“That’s ruthless.” Her grin came back now, and she looked down to the table before them. “You never let anyone win?”
“Of course not. It was my duty to remove them from the world. The game was merely to give them a final comfort. Hope is a great painkiller.” Saint mused. “I stopped doing it after a while, though. It began to feel pointless after seeing so many fail.”
“Hmmmm.” Enot’s grin widened, growing more smug as it did. “I guess I’m pretty special, then.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m the only person to ever beat you at something, aren’t I?”
“If you’re referring to our little card games, I don’t know if those are really the same—”
“Not what I’m talking about, big guy!” Enot suddenly leaned in closer to Saint, scooping an arm around their shoulders, her eyes sparkling. “You made a bet, remember?”
“Oh yes, that.” Saint sighed, knowing where this was going.
“If I recall the terms of our wager, bud, I’m pretty sure that you were wrong? Which means that I beat you! Which means…” Her colors were glowing brighter and brighter as she spoke.
“Yes.” Saint nodded. “I will honor the terms—”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Enot threw both her arms into the air, pumping thin fists up and down as she laughed triumphantly.
“As long as what you ask is within reason.” Saint cut in.
“Yeah, yeah, sure!” Enot nodded back vigorously. “Now, listen up and listen good, because I’ve got my request ready to go!”
Saint took a deep breath and braced themself. It was their own fault for agreeing to something like this in the first place, they mused, so it would only be right that they faced the consequences with dignity.
“Saint, I want you to promise me…” Enot began, her excitement quickly dying down into a sort of serious nervousness that made Saint a bit anxious.
“I want you to promise that, from now on, any time you’re feeling upset or whatever, and you want to close me out, that you’ll talk to me instead.” Her voice was much softer than usual, bordering on a mumble.
“We’re all we have. So, if you’re feeling bad, I’d like to be there with you, and then we can feel bad together, or something.”
Her eyes met Saint’s once more.
“I just don’t want you to leave me alone again. Please promise me that?”
“I promise.” Saint put their hand on her shoulder. “I won’t leave you.”