Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Skizz wasn't there when Impulse Fell, but he felt it. He fell to his knees as part of Impulse’s soul was ripped away and thrust into a box far too small for so great a man. He felt every thread snap and rend asunder. He heard the wailing.

But it was long before Skizz went by that name. That was back when he lived under endless skies of the Aether and could watch as little fledging angels tested their wings by leaping from balcony to balcony (much to the chagrin of their mentors).

That was back when he would have answered to Izun.

Izun heard grunts and yells from the nearby salle and he quickened his steps, reaching for the door to one of the smaller training rooms.

Adira yelled in frustration on the other side of the door and he hesitated. The sound of harsh breathing made its way through the thin wood and a voice snapped, “I know you’re there, Izun.”

“Okay, okay, I was just making sure you weren’t about to knock my head off first.”

An array of weapons from modded worlds lined the walls and a large window took up the far side of the room. The room was clean, everything in a neat row and polished, except for the pile of broken armor stands by the window and another one currently missing an arm set up in the center of the room.

Adira glared at him as she lowered her sword, relaxing into a loose parade rest. The sharp lines of her training uniform formed her up into the shape of a warrior. Her hair was tied back, the edges drenched in sweat. She’d been here a while, then.

“So, what did the armor stand do this time?” he remarked, heading straight to a chest and grabbing her a bottle of water.

“Izun.”

“What? It’s a fair question if you disarmed the guy.”

“Stop being all ‘Izun’ about it. I’m fine.”

“Last time you let loose on these guys was when you got kicked out of that architecture class. I have a right to be ‘me’ about it.” 

He handed her the water as she reluctantly put her sword in her inventory. He led her by the window, getting a good look at her in the sunlight. She wasn’t hurt as far as he could tell. She looked like she was getting enough sleep, her training uniform was well put together, which ruled out some of the worse options.

“Are you going to make me pry it out of you? What’s going on, kiddo?”

“Cara and I had a fight.”

“That’s not unusual. Everyone gets in fights sometimes.”

“I think she wants to break up and it’s so stupid,” Adira leaned against the glass. Her reflection was small, looking only as big as her small years would allow. “We said we’d always be there for each other and now she thinks that I’m going too far with all the fighting--but it wasn’t a problem before! Who does she think she is deciding what’s right for me! I can’t stop doing this and it’s not fair and… I don’t…”

“Okay, take a sip of water,” Izun gently nudged. “Take a deep breath.”

He took a breath of his own for good measure.

“Take it from the top, is she breaking up with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, what did she say exactly?”

“That she doesn’t like that I’m going into Protection.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, she just wouldn’t say anything, but you know how she acts when I bring my blade around,” Adira scoffed. 

“Do you want to break up with her?”

“No? Yes? I don’t know. I’m mad enough to.”

They both fell silent and Izun looked out at the sunset coloring the buildings and clouds. The wings of distant angels on evening flights caught the light, painting them gold, orange, and scarlet.

“I think you might need to talk to her about this, kiddo,” Izun eventually said.

“I tried.”

“When you can both talk about it, instead of storming off or shutting down.”

“Tell that to her. ” She rolled her eyes.

“Adira,” he snapped, “You can be as mad as you want, but I know you’re going to regret saying that later.”

Adira’s hand tightened on the bottle of water as she looked out the window. Izun sighed and looked out with her. Night was falling fast. In the many years he'd been training Adira he'd seen her focused, sad, excited, and on the rare occasion insecure. However, now he could feel the anger and frustration and hurt almost roiling off her in waves as she glared at the glass.

“Wanna spar?”

“You never spar.”

“And you usually act like Cara hung the stars. Indulge an old man for me?”

“You're not that old,” she grabbed her sword and met him in the center of the room.

He wasn't a great fighter. He could handle himself in a bow fight pretty well, but the sword grip never felt right against his palm. He preferred to Protect in other ways. 

His stance was open, balanced but not as strong as he would like as he focused on blocking hits and deflecting. Adira responded in turn, slowing her blows to a visible speed and telegraphing far more than she would normally. 

Izun forced himself to stay present and adjusted his form to meet her. He was dropping his guard too low when on block 7. He needed to come up faster for block 3. 

He felt the anger in her attacks when he parried. The emotion almost vibrating up the blade and he focused less on defense and more on redirecting--

She lunged and Izun jumped back, before desperately bringing his guard back up.

Nervousness and fear flowed through her blade as he parried. Izun froze, allowing Adira to get a hit on his arm with the flat of her blade before he knocked her sword away.

Izun lunged messily, Adira parried and reposted.

A sword point wavered at his throat. 

“Point to you,” he said.

Adira took a deep breath and the sword steadied.

“You did good,” he reassured quietly. She didn’t look reassured. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to Fall,” Adira whispered back and it broke his heart. The sword lowered to her side.

“This isn’t something that can make you Fall,” he reassured. “You two just got into a fight, that’s normal.”

“Yeah, but it feels like I’m going to-- isn’t that what people say? You get torn into two by something until you don’t know which way is up and I don’t want to leave her, but I can’t give this up--”

“You are not going to Fall,” Izun insisted. “You’ll know if you’re about to. Were you about to kill me just now?”

“No.”

“But you could have, right?”

“I get what you’re trying to say, I just…”

“Come on, another round will do you good,” He lifted his practice blade and took a step back.

They fell back into the pattern of blow, parry, repost. He waited until her moves became focused, intentional, rather than the flurry of emotion from earlier. It was a wonder to watch the uncertainty and blame fall from her shoulders as the girl he helped train fell right into her element.

It was slow, meditative, and he spoke.

“Picture Falling like this: there’s a wall in your head and you can get close to the wall and maybe sometimes you can touch it, but that’s not Falling. You need to find handholds and footholds until you climb all the way up it and tumble off to the other side. It takes something bigger than an argument with your girlfriend to get you there.”

Adira’s stance wavered before she took a deep breath and recentered. He didn’t take the opening. This wasn’t the moment for that kind of training. She needed this.

“And even if you feel like you’re getting torn in two, you still have me. You have your other mentors, you have friends and everyone here to help you.”

Adira’s blade rested against his chest, over his heart. It moved up and down as he breathed. Izun lowered his sword, putting it into his inventory with a flash of light and she followed suit. Light flashed at her side as her blade disappeared.

She lunged forward into him and he wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her smaller frame in a hug. A part of his shirt got wet as she cried and sniffled and he tightened his grip. She’d grown so much in the past year.

“I just want to protect people,” she whispered.

“And you’re good at it.”

“If… if Cara tells me to stop fighting, can you teach me to protect people like you?”

“Okay, listen to me. If Cara tells you to stop fighting forever, then she doesn’t understand how important it is to you. I want you to really think about it before making a decision like that, and really understand why she’s asking, and I need you to talk to me and a couple other people before you make that commitment.”

“It’s not like I’m getting married.” She leaned out of his embrace. Her nose was running.

“Good, my heart couldn’t take that.”

“But would you, teach me to Protect like you do for S̵̳̻̘̯͔̖͍̞͙͗̉̋͜͜c̸̨̛̫̟̹̟̳̩̿́̎̃̈̋0̸̧̮̂̿̈́̾̔̇̔͑͑̉̋̀͆̑̏T̴̙̬͕̾̌̆͂͊̽̀͋̃T̸̢͔̤̫̬͇͙͚̮̣͎̮̠̏͆͋̓͐̅̎͆̒̀̿͘̚͜ͅ?

Izun froze, “Say that again?”

“Sc̸̨̛̫̟̹̟̳̩̿́̎̃̈̋-- Sc- S-” Adira stuttered, stopped in her tracks every time she tried to say his name.

“Sc-” He couldn’t say it. Izun couldn’t say his name. “Adira, I love you, kiddo, and we can talk about this later, but my mortal needs me--”

“No, yeah, go--go!”

Adira practically pushed him to the door and Izun ran. He bounded down the stairs two at a time. If he went any faster he would fall all the way down.

It started as a burning in the center of his chest. It got worse the more he tried to remember that name--

Scot-

They met in a redstone testing world, a place full of feats of engineering that he couldn’t hope to comprehend. Mortals were so amazing! Izun barely noticed he'd made it to his first mortal’s side. His eyes kept darting from contraption to contraption, his fingers twitched to figure out all of the moving pieces.

His mortal jumped a block and a half in the air in surprise as Izun appeared. He was on the shorter side, and probably human with short cropped brown hair and a black t-shirt. Izun held out a hand.

“Hey buddy! I'm Izun. What's your name? Cool place you've got here…” he trailed off. His skin buzzed at the possibility of discovering all the hidden secrets in this new world. 

“Um, hi. I'm [Sco--]? What are you doing here!?”

Sco--

“Don't get me wrong, I really like him, but what exactly am I protecting Dippledop from? He's not in any danger that I can see?” Izun sat back in his chair across from his mentor, Willa. 

“Names have meaning, Izun,” they chidded “To use anything less than a true name fails to capture who you're talking about.”

“Yeah, sure, why am I helping [Sc---]?”

“We don't know,” they admitted. “[Sc---] isn't in any immediate danger, but our charges rarely are. Think of this as a more of a Watch position.”

“Right, right,” Izun picked at his fingers, glancing up at Willa. They wouldn’t meet his gaze. “What is it?”

“I don't want this to change your view of him,” they picked through their words carefully.

“Sure, of course.”

“It isn't uncommon for cases like this, that you're not protecting a mortal from outside threats, but from himself. He could Fall.”

“[Sc---] wouldn't do that.”

“Of course,” they looked down at their notes. “It's just something that's happened before.”

Sc---

Izun threw himself into study. Why would a mortal Fall? How does it even happen?

He began to notice things, little comments that [S----] would make about how nice it was to have someone to share his inventions with. He would talk about big dreams and what he wanted out of life. Izun would look around [S----]’s tiny, empty house and see everything lacking.

He found a single passage about the potential for mortals to Fall

“There is a mantra that mortals clings to:

‘And the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

And the universe said the light you seek is within you’

This constant battle between light and dark is integral to a mortal’s life. It is your duty to protect the light, which will only go out when a mortal is alone.”

No one else ever visited [S----].

And so Izun made a plan, a list to get his buddy someplace better.

S----

“Hey, I'm Tango! [-----] won't stop talking about you!”

Izun was thrilled. His buddy had a buddy, someone who could understand his inventions and hang out with him when Izun had other duties. All of his plotting and planning was working out.

Tango was different from the human mortals Izun had met, with piercing red eyes and hair that was more like fire. He wore layers on layers, like he could never actually get warm. [-----] had explained the Nether, a dark, hot place some mortals came from instead of the Overworld. Izun learned more every day.

With some light encouragement, [-----] moved from his tiny home on his testing server to a hub-world, a bustling hub full of other mortals all living together on the same world! Gone were the days of his lonely little testing world! [----] found a house in a beautiful neighborhood and started talking to his neighbors, publishing schematics of his inventions, and growing his circle even more.

But even then, [-----] always had time for a cup of coffee (easier to get now that he lived in a hub world) and watch the sunrise together. Even then, [-----] had time to go on walks and chat about his plans, how Izun’s training was going with Adira, and theorizing what Tango had been getting up to in his fancy new server full of artists and engineers.

Every day, Izun wondered if his job was complete, if [-----] was truly safe and he’d earned his wings.

-----

Tango was getting sick. He was hiding it well, but Izun watched as the bags under his eyes grew darker and the flames on his head grew dim and sparse. 

Izun researched what could be ailing him, but his usual libraries didn't have records on mortal illnesses and he wasn't close with many healers. 

[-----] was worried too. He noticed Tango's failing energy and was talking to code experts and mortal medics. Izun wondered if this was his new mission. This was his chance to help and Protect.

Izun hadn’t seen [-----] in 4 days. 

What had gone wrong?

.... . .-.. .--.

Izun’s knees hit the ground, the last traces of Dippledop’s true name burned from his mind. He barely felt the ache in his knees as he felt something rip in his soul. A chunk of his heart was being torn from his body, he could feel it. It tugged like someone was waving it in front of his face, bragging. Gloating.

Izun growled and tried to push himself to his feet, but stumbled and hit the ground as another wave hit.

His buddy was Falling.

He needed to get there, now, because if his bud was gone then what happened to Tango-- He needed to save them-- he he---

Izun’s vision cleared enough that he could see the perfect white tile underneath him. It was quartz. The edges so smooth his fingernail couldn’t even catch on the edge and-- he couldn’t stand!

A drop of gold blood fell from his lip onto the tile.

His breathing was rough, wracking his whole body with each shudder.

Something cracked deep in his chest, like someone was pressing his ribs into the ground until they gave. Another wave of pain crushed his soul into bits.

His best bud was dead.

In less than ten minutes, his buddy had Fallen and been ripped from the world.

Izun had failed.

Gentle hands and words surrounded him, picking him up and ushering him somewhere in the main hall. Izun just kept a hand pressed to his chest, at the spot that felt numb, like a piece of him died with his buddy.

At some point he felt Adira’s presence, Cara at her side, but he could barely focus on that. Izun drifted.

.. --.. -....-

“How are you feeling?”

Izun took a deep breath and looked up from the book he’d been looking at. Willa stood in the doorway of his medical room. A nurse had just been by to check on him, so this was “Willa his mentor” checking in rather than “Willa the Healer” checking on a patient.

“Can I get released early for good behavior?” he joked.

“What?”

“Nevermind. What can I do for you?”

They stepped into the room and sat on the edge of his bed, not meeting his gaze. Not looking at him at all, Izun realized. 

“I feel like I failed you.”

“Oh, so we’re having this talk. I’m a grown man, Willa. If anyone failed it’s me.”

“You know he could come back, right?”

Izun set his book onto a side table and scooted closer, resting a hand on their shoulder. He felt a wing brush against his side. Crow’s feet were barely starting to show at the corners of their eyes. 

“You can’t go after him,” their voice was quiet and firm. “He’s Fallen.”

He closed his eyes and took another breath around the slight pain in his chest.

“Do you trust me?” Izun asked.

“Not with this, not with a heart like yours.”

“He wouldn’t have just Fallen like that. Something must have happened.”

“--and it’s already happened. We are Light, Izun,” Willa’s eyes were piercing. “We can acknowledge the Darkness, but seeking after it will destroy you.”

“He isn’t Darkness!”

“He wasn’t,” Willa agreed. “He had a soul, once, too. There’s no telling what will happen if you two see each other again.”

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“I can’t lose you, especially down that path,” Willa looked away again. “That’s why I’ve locked your access to his homeworld.”

He grasped their forearm and turned them to face him. Their expression was set in stone. Slowly he leaned back, out and away from their wing, and schooled his own features blank. Hurt cracked through their mask of professionalism. 

“When you’re better, I’ll undo it,” they breathed. “No one has taken a mortal’s Fall this bad in generations. You don’t know how close we were to losing you.”

He didn’t deign to reply, and Willa paused long enough for the anger to build in his chest before nodding and walking out of the room. The door closed behind them quietly

Izun waited one moment. 

Then another.

He screamed into his fist and he hit it against the bed. 

For the first time in his life he approached the wall in his heart and felt a pull to the other side. They hadn’t felt his buddy soul being ripped from his body. They didn’t know his buddy, who hated hugs but would hand over a mug of coffee and a grilled cheese like it was nothing. They didn’t know what a good man the world was missing.

Izun stumbled to his feet. 

There was more than one world he could go to.

.-- .... . .-. . ..--..

Izun snuck through the halls, ducking around corners and ignoring the pain-numb feeling in the center of his chest where his bond with Dippledop should have been.

Soaring pillars rose high above him with walkways spanning across them. He stayed out of sight from angels fluttering from walkway to walkway and steadily made his way to the hall. For not the first time he wished he had Dippledop's ability to hop from world to world at will with his little comm thingy. For now, he made due with the Hall of Doors.

He climbed the stairs up a level, ducking his head in case Willa got any ideas and was looking for him. Once he was high enough in the air, right next to one of the walls that bordered the hall, he peered through the decorative windows that were just big enough for skilled fliers to dive through. Some figures mulled about and he could just make out the silhouettes of the closest doors down below. Izun took a few steps back

And lept.

His arms hit the window ledge, leaving his legs dangling in empty air. He gasped and scrambled for a better grip. His legs kicked as he pulled himself up, swinging a leg over when he got high enough.

Breaths came to him in gasps. Having his mortal Fall had taken more out of him than he thought. He giggled humorlessly as he caught his breath.

“--maybe I should wait,” Adira’s voice echoed up to him. “He said he wanted to be here--”

“You’re going to have 4 mentors there already,” Cara said. 

He glanced down from his hiding spot. The two girls were walking towards the main entrance to the Hall. A bit of pride sparked in his chest that they were at least talking.

“And Izun is what? Feather dust?”

“...” Cara was quiet. “That’s not what I meant. Maybe he’ll be there when you get back? To see you all winged up and everything?”

“You don’t think he’d…”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“...okay.”

Izun waited for them to continue, to get some sort of feel for what Adira was going to say, but they moved on.

“Are you… okay with me Protecting?” Adira sounded uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Can we talk about it when you get back?”

Izun crawled through the window and looked out the other side. He had eavesdropped long enough. Adira would talk to him about it when she was ready. Even if he really wanted to listen in and figure out what was up with those two!

A few figures mosied around the Hall, talking or getting ready to go through to another world. Each gateway was housed in a beautiful frame, hand carved into intricate designs representing the worlds they led to. The gates themselves looked like the paintings of Dippledop’s worlds, beautiful abstract swirls of color that formed the shapes of people or landmarks. An angel walked up to one and stepped through, disappearing on the other side.

He looked and scanned the wall for handholds to climb down. The more universal Doors were on the other side of the Hall.

As he climbed down, voices entered the Hall, Adira’s other mentors. They wore ceremonial garb and had bits of gold decorating their wings. They headed to an empty, plain frame close to the entrance, chatting about training and their individual assignments to worlds and mortals.

Izun took a deep breath and just kept climbing down the wall. His knees jarred and he dropped the rest of the way to the floor. He bit back a hiss, studiously ignoring the other angels in the room.

Adira entered. He took the opportunity to hurry towards the Doors at the back of the room while everyone was distracted.

“╎ ⍊𝙹∴ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ↸𝙹 リ𝙹 ᓵ∷⚍ᒷꖎℸ ̣ ||, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣  ᒲᒷ∷ᓵ|| ᔑꖎ𝙹リᒷ. ╎ ⍊𝙹∴ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 !¡∷𝙹ℸ ̣ ᒷᓵℸ ̣  ᔑリ↸ ᓭᒷ∷⍊ᒷ ╎リ ᒷᑑ⚍ᔑꖎ ᒲᒷᔑᓭ⚍∷ᒷ--” Adira’s voice rang loud and true.

She looked radiant in her armor. It looked like a part of her now, like a second skin. Her battle-mentor pulled out a sword and she knelt, receiving it as purple light flickered along the blade.

Izun was almost at the right Door.

“ᓵ⚍ℸ ̣  ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ∷𝙹ℸ ̣ 

ᓭ⍑╎ᒷꖎ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᓵ⍑ᔑ∷⊣ᒷ

ʖꖎᔑ↸ᒷ ʖᒷ ℸ ̣ ∷⚍ᒷ” Her mage-mentor charged. The meaning was traditional, but the wording was a little changed, a little different to how he would say it.

Adira stood and approached the empty frame in front of her. The Door began to form in front of her, blocking her from view, but Izun stared as long as he could. That was his little girl, her face full of determination, all of the uncertainty from earlier a distant memory.

He paused at his Door. He gauged in his heart how close he was to the wall keeping him from Falling. He could stay here, wait for Adira to come back and congratulate her on a job well done. It’s what everyone expected. 

His fingers rested against the frame, tracing the carved details. He stepped closer to the wall in his heart. Dippledop needed him. Adira was a big girl. He needed to do his job now.

Izun stepped through the portrait to Dippledop’s new home world, a hub server for builders and redstoners, and said a little vow of his own in his heart, “I’m coming for you, buddy.”

-.. .- .-. -.-

Chapter Text

..-. --- .-. --. --- -

Dippledop’s house on the hub-world looked fine from the outside. It looked like every other house on the little street: a small garden to the side, two stories stacked neatly on top of each other, and a sign with the address scrawled on it by the front. The redstone prototypes in the front yard made it easy to spot on the street. All it was missing was cheerful smoke puffing from its chimney. 

Izun shifted the bundle on his shoulder awkwardly.

The doormat was scorched, charcoal worked into the fibers. It used to have his name on it.

Soot covered the back side of the door as it creaked open. He didn’t even need to use his personal key. The living room itself looked gutted. Blocks had long since rotted away, leaving empty space behind. If he didn’t know any better, Izun would say a creeper exploded between the kitchen and the living room. As it stood, the carved runes in the floor and the smell of sulfur in the air told another story.

A demon had been here.

Blood stained the floorboards.

Izun dropped his bag to the floor and stared. 

Burnt beeswax-- not melted, burned somehow -- surrounded the runes in a circle that summoned a spirit, an offering of light for the darkness to snuff out. The runes, now that he truly looked, were frantically scrawled like they were written by a man possessed.

A small bone, the size of a knuckle, crunched under his shoe. A bit of dark brown hair was tied in a tight bundle, left untouched in the center of the circle like a note to the spirit: ‘This is who you are here for. I am calling you. Don’t get lost. I bind you to this place.’

Oh, Dippledop. What had happened that he would turn to those creatures, rather than asking him for help?

Something crashed upstairs.

Izun was halfway up them before he could even think.

“Dop!” His voice cracked. “I’m here! We can fix this-- I promise--”

He saw red eyes like the deepest pits of the nether first. The smell of sulfur and ash was thick and cloying up here. 

"Tango?" he breathed. 

The figure froze in front of him, holding a worn book full of papers haphazardly stuck between the pages. Other notes were scattered across the floor. He looked up again at the figure as they stood motionless across from each other. The netherborn in front of him was a far cry from how he looked last time they'd met. His flames crackled heartily, his skin had a healthy glow. The only sign of sickness remaining were the bags under his eyes.

Tango practically flinched before he darted towards the window. Papers fluttered to the ground and Izun scrambled to reach him.

Dried blood was caked on Tango's hands, stuck under his fingernails. Netherborn don't bleed.

Izun grabbed the back of Tango's vest just as he jumped through the window. He grunted as he suddenly was holding all of Tango's weight in one hand. Tango’s breaths came as panicked wheezing and Izun struggled to keep a hold on his flailing form.

"Top--" the nickname slipped out as they struggled.

"I'm sorry, okay! Just let me go and you'll never have to see me again!"

Izun shifted to drag Tango back into the house.

ziiiipppp

Suddenly he was holding an empty vest as Tango landed like a cat in the alleyway below him. Izun watched as he looked down at his wrist mounted comm-- still running down the alley-- and blipped onto another server in a flash of light.

Izun slowly pulled his arm back through the window and he held Tango's vest to his chest. His mind was reeling, trying to find out what had happened-- what Tango had been running from--

It clicked.

Tango had been sick. He was fine now. Blood on his hands. Dippledop Falling. Izun slid to the floor, the papers crinkling as he sat.

Izun was meant to protect Dop, and he had failed. He led his buddy right to his doom: Tango.

He shook himself and looked at the papers scattering the ground. It was just rows and rows of Tango’s cramped, neat handwriting. His eyes narrowed as he picked up a piece of paper under his shoe.

It was a scribbled timeline of meetings with demons. His breath caught. The timeline went back several months, a little after Tango had started getting worse. 

Another paper: this time covered in summoning runes in scattered patterns. None of them included possible names of the spirit that claimed his buddy's soul, just generic summoning spells.

The next one held copied notes from somewhere, detailing how and what demon names could be.

Server codes that were useless without a comm were written on a thin slip of paper.

A list of times and places. Tango had been meeting with people, several people with demonic ties by the looks of some of Tango's scribbled notes.

Izun lowered his hand into his lap and looked up at the shattered window in front of him. Tango’s vest sat limply on the ground next to him.

He thought this would be quick, undo the deal and get his buddy home, but Dippledop was dead, his house didn't hold anything for him here. He should go home, get ready to welcome Adira home after her first assignment, reassure her that he was proud of her and proud of the wings she was most likely earning.

Even if he would likely never get his.

Who was he to think he could save someone from a demon?

He looked down at the list of times and locations, a list of possible demons. The paper crinkled as he picked it up again and read the names over and over again. If Tango did one thing for them, it was this.

Izun stood and pocketed the note. He needed to get one of those comms the mortals used. That was his first step. Then he could track down these contacts and find out what happened to Dippledop. Once he knew how this happened he could find a way to reverse it.

-.. . -- --- -. ..--..

Dop’s bed was unmade, random notes scratched in a book in his dresser. They were just the beginnings of new machines like an updated storage system, a shopping list, etc. He found a shulker box full of diamonds and other currency in a random chest. He vowed a silent promise to pay everything back before sticking it in his inventory.

Still no sign of a comm.

Izun put up a board in Dippledop’s spare room and labeled different papers with extra signs he’d found in his digging. Between rooms he kept coming back and pinning up a couple of extra papers. Tango had managed to write notes on every topic imaginable when it came to demons. Some pages were torn, cutting off important paragraphs. Others had whole lines scratched out, with clarifications scrawled in the margins.

Three demons appeared over and over in Tango’s notes. He gathered the scraps he had and pinned them to the wall.

Gnorimoschema.

Tango had noted that the name came from an old tongue and meant “well known shape.” A small moth doodle accompanied the name in several places. They frequented a few hub servers at a regular schedule.

The Captain.

There was no other name for this demon and Izun felt ill at ease. This one spent a large amount of time amongst mortals, enough that Tango had found a series of scores from major battle tournaments. The guy was good, he’d give him that.

He regularly spent time on Dippledop’s hub server.

Ar--

Tango never wrote her name in full. If he needed to write anything about her in length he would address the demon as her to avoid the scribbled mess every time he tried to complete her name.

But he tried a lot, which is what got her onto the board.

All three names were surrounded by scorch marks, places Dippledop’s name used to reside.

A lot to think about and just one room left to check.

The kitchen was ruined. There was no salvaging the rubble left behind from the demon. Just to be certain, Izun carefully picked over the kitchen and living room to see if the comm had… remained after Dop died.

Nothing was left. Just blood.

He sat back for a moment. He needed some other way to get a comm, maybe even one of his own? Only a few angels had comms of their own, and none that he was on speaking terms with.

The gold and diamonds sat heavily in his inventory as Izun went back to the spare room. He carefully unpinned key notes and pressed them in between the pages of Dop’s notebook. He took one last look around, taking in the spare bed--the corners perfectly made-- the paintings on the walls, and Tango’s vest limp on the ground. Against his better judgement, he picked it up and placed it in his inventory with the rest.

-.-. .... .- .. -. ...

He locked the door behind him and breathed in the cool air. Someone laughed in the distance. A young couple walked hand in hand in the opposite direction while a man tended a front garden on the other side of the block.

He saw a flutter of feathers out of the corner of his eye and almost ducked back inside, but paused when he realized it was just a raven hybrid shoving a green hat on her partner’s head. 

Izun took a steadying breath. 

“Ho there, stranger!” the man called out from where he was tending the flowers in front of his house.

“Hey there yourself!” Izun jogged over.

“What brings you to this side of the void? Thinking of moving in?”

“Well, I was visiting a friend, but I can’t find him--”

“What’s his name? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”

“Oh, no, no he just wasn’t home and I don’t have a comm. Could you point me in the direction to get one?”

“Hmm,” the man grunted and brushed the dirt from his hands. “Let me take some of this back inside to the missus and we can figure something out.”

“Right, that sounds great!”

“Name’s WhiteTail, but the boys just call me Tails.”

“Izun.”

“Well, I’ve heard weirder. Come on.”

Izun ducked as he followed Tails into the small home. Family pictures lined the walls and small houseplants covered every available surface. Clattering came from down one hall, but Tails b-lined for a table and dropped off some flower bulbs. They looked like alliums. 

“Dear, is that you?” A woman called out.

“I brought in a new friend, Honey!” Tails called back.

An older woman with frizzy, curly hair poked her head out from the hall. She walked over and planted a kiss on Tails’s check before sticking out a hand to shake.

“The name's Honey, sweetheart. What did this old thing drag you in for?”

Izun shook her hand firmly while Tails spluttered.

“Well here I am trying to be hospitable and--”

“Have you even shaken his hand yet?”

Tails grumbled and Izun put out his hand to shake. The older man grunted before offering a dirt covered shake up and down.

Izun froze and stared at Tails's hand. It was hard to tell outside through the hustle and bustle of such a busy world, but Tails was soulless. 

“See, that's why I waited, I'm covered in dirt, Honey!”

There was a gaping, empty, void inside of Tails that made the numb-pain feeling in his own heart ache in sympathy.

“Oh hush.”

Izun let his hand fall back to his side and looked closer at Tails. Laugh lines graced the corners of his cheeks and crows feet gently curled up from his eyes. His hands were rough from hard work, covered in scars and calluses, but most mortal's preferred that.

“Izun here doesn't have a comm, do you know if Margaret is around to do a commission?”

“Oh no, she went off to that convention yesterday. They're announcing a new casing material she thinks would be better for those Hardcore commissions she's been getting lately. I can ask when she's coming back, how soon do you need a new comm by?”

“What's hardcore?”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Honey drawled before jumping into a rant about the difference between worlds and the thickness of void around some, making them more fragile. Making it easier to die, for good.

Izun’s gaze kept drifting towards Tails. His gaze was soft, as he listened to Honey ramble. He looked happy, content with life. He looked more content than Izun himself had felt in a long time.

“--and hardcore players obviously need more hardy comms since they aren’t reset with a respawn as often. Most of the lifestyle players stockpile several and just transfer their tags over whenever a creeper or a hard drop or an ender dragon takes it out.”

“Huh,” Izun found himself saying. He tried to get a good look at Tails' eyes, to see if he could see a soullessness to them.

“But that must not be how you lost yours, young man. How’d yours get lost?”

“It’s been a long time since someone’s called me a young man,” he chuckled. “It’s a lot simpler than that. I’ve just never had one.”

The silence was palpable. The couple traded a look and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

“That friend of yours, does he know you’ve never had a comm?” Tails asked.

“Well, we haven’t talked about it, but I guess he knows, yeah?”

“And he hasn’t encouraged you to get one?”

“Well, I have other ways of getting around. I just never needed one until now.” He couldn’t quite understand what they were getting at. “No one on my… home server… has one. We just get around in different ways I guess.”

“Have you ever been…discouraged from getting one?”

Izun crossed his arms.

“Do you know how to get a comm?” Honey asked, saving him from trying to answer that question.

“I’d really like to know.”

“Okay then,” Honey leaned forward. “Since this is your first comm, we’ll need to get you registered with a tag. For most people they choose something related to their name, but it can be anything really. Then we plug it into a comm of your choosing. We have some money put away, so if you need help we can help finance one.”

“Oh, I have money!” Izun said. “Er.. well. I have gold and diamonds? Is that the currency on the server?”

“Gold should be plenty,” Honey reassured. 

“Great.”

She looked like she was about to say something, but stopped. Izun watched as her face twitched between worry, blankness, and uncertainty.

“Well, I can take you over to some places to look at comms. They’re not as good as Margaret’s, but they’ll do,” Tails grunted and pushed himself to his feet.

“Thanks for having me in your home,” Izun nodded at Honey.

“Thanks for staying. Make sure you get our contacts in your comm. If you need anything, anything at all, just let one of us know.”

Izun nodded and followed Tails out the door. Before he left he scraped a small symbol into the dust. A small light sparkled, leaving peace and protection on the home. He left with a small feeling of warmth and satisfaction in his heart.

-... .-.. --- -.-. -.-

“So, tell me about that… home world of yours?” Tails said.

“Only if you tell me why you have no soul,” Izun said, unthinkingly, before wincing.

Tails’s steps slowed to a stop on the side of the road.

“Who told you that drivel?”

“I could feel it.”

“Well, tell that feeling it can go back up where the sun don’t shine and not to spread it anywhere else.”

“Does Honey know?”

“What are you, some sort of guardian angel? Leave it alone. If you’re uncomfortable talking about your past to me then say so. Don’t throw mud around.”

“Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t thinking, especially after you’ve been nothing but kind--”

“Then start thinking, young man.”

“--I just think my friend lost his soul!”

“Pardon?”

“My friend? The one I’m here to see? I don’t think he has a soul anymore.”

Tails started walking again, looking at the ground deep in thought, “Was there a circle?”

“What was left of one anyway.”

“Lock of hair?”

He nodded.

“No sign of your friend? Well, of course there wouldn’t be. You wouldn’t be talking to me if you could find him.”

“I asked because you seem… happy.”

“Some days are easier than others,” Tails grumbled. “I wouldn’t encourage anyone to go through what I have. Do you know why he did it? What type of deal he made?”

“Someone else made a deal and he got the short end of the stick,” Izun grimaced. “He wasn’t the type to make deals.”

“Well, that’s what I thought about myself. Then my comm broke on a hardcore world, one of the bad ones. If I died there I would die for good. No restart, no waking up, just dead.”

“And a deal was a better option?”

“Honey is the most beautiful person in all the worlds I’ve seen,” Tails said softly. “I was good at hardcore. I would have lived a long, exciting life if I stayed there, but it would have been a pale comparison to the life I live now.”

It is your duty to protect the light, which will only go out when a mortal is alone.

“The spirit got you out?”

“I found some old books in a stronghold and studied enough to summon one. He only gets me when I die for good, or when Honey goes, whichever happens first. Until then I’ll live my life to the fullest, and try to stop poor souls from following in my footsteps.”

“I guess that makes me one of them, then?”

“Maybe.”

“And Honey doesn’t know all of this?” Izun couldn’t understand it. If she was so important, why wouldn’t Tails tell her?

“What is your server thinking? No one with comms? There is not a single person on your server with a comm?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. There are probably a few of us with comms, but we use portals to get everywhere and no matter what we can always get back home when we want.”

“Then why do you need one?” That sounded like a leading question.

“I need to get to places the portals won’t go.”

“And no one’s stopping you from getting around? No one is trapping you places?”

“Not usually,” he could feel the bitterness dripping from his voice. He could feel another handhold in the wall of his heart, climbing up higher.

“That’s not okay. Look, if you need a place to stay while you figure things out with your friend our doors are open.”

“It’s not-- it’s not like that. I got hurt, badly, and there was one world that was more dangerous to me because of it. They locked down one portal. That’s it.”

“But they could lock down more.”

“I trust them not to. I wasn’t happy about it-- I’m still not happy about it -- but I know them. They’re family. If I really wanted to, I could talk to someone and they’d unlock the portal immediately.”

Tails fell silent as they walked and Izun had a feeling it wasn’t because the man was satisfied with his answers.

The sound of pistons extending and a chattering crowd grew louder. He started to see tents and buildings of wild colors in the distance. Barkers yelled out names of strange items from modded worlds and cheap prices for vanilla blocks. Redstone machines flashed bright lights and set off fireworks to get people to gather around more solidly built stores.

The smell of baked goods and roasting meats floated through the air. What he wouldn’t give for a roasted apple with honey right now.

“There’s three other people on the server regularly that make comms. The admin is a long shot, but Carmel would do it in a heartbeat. If we can’t find him I’ll help you find The Captain, but you’ll have to talk to him alone.”

“Why?” Izun had some ideas, devilish ideas, but--

“He’s one of those angelic types , ” Tails spat. 

… What? “What’s wrong with angels!?”

“When you walk around the world without a soul... they, well, just ask for a comm, don’t mention your soulless friend, and you’ll be fine.”

Izun was shocked into silence, which Tails must have taken as acceptance, since he walked straight into the chaos of the marketplace, leaving him to follow while trying to sort his thoughts out.

Tails led him through the stalls, weaving between groups while asking periodically about Carmel. Someone at the porkchop shop said he’d stopped by a couple of hours ago. Someone at the custom firework stand said he’d gone home for the day. A passerby said he’d been spotted two stalls down. Around and around they went.

He zoned out, taking in the sights and smells. His heart ached at the scent of gunpowder, too close to the acrid smokey smell that followed Tango. He took a moment to people watch while Tails chatted. A couple clung to each other across the street. A child ran off through the crowd, chased by another gaggle of scream laughing kids. A teenager picked a leaf out of their friend’s hair.

An angel stared at his comm next to a clothing shop, The Captain.

Izun stared at the angel and took in his lack of wings, dark bronze eyes, and purple specks circling around him like spirits. He found himself approaching, leaving a cursing Tails behind.

“Captain?”

The angel looked up and his eyes widened. His comm disappeared with a blink of light. “Sorry, I don’t have time to sign anything--”

“Yeah, I don’t care, bud. I have some questions for you,” Izun grabbed his shoulder and dragged him into an alleyway. He shoved the angel against the wall harshly. “Why did my mortal talk to you?”

“Crap.”

“Yeah, crap, what did he talk about?”

“Look, I talk to a lot of mortals, so if I could get a little more detail, like their name? Or your name?”

“Izun. His name is Tango. So can you remember a blond redstoner who--” Izun took a breath. My mortal. Of course he cared about Tango, but he wasn’t his … Thinking of what he did made the numb-pain in his chest flare to life. He pushed through. “Tango made a deal, and now our friend, my mortal, has fallen.”

“I am not emotionally prepared for this.”

“Get prepared or I’ll sic my trainee on you.”

“Look, I mostly compete in hunger games. I just started a story server, so I have some fans. I don’t remember any redstoners in particular who talked to me recently.”

Izun searched his face and came up short. Captain wasn’t lying.

“Wait, you visit servers even when you’re not seeing your mortal?” His mind got caught on that little detail.

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Yeah, why wouldn’t he? The portals were open, there weren’t any rules against visiting mortal servers. Why wouldn’t they just come and… hang out?

“I need a comm,” he looked back down at the angel, releasing his grip on him. 

“Great, I can definitely help with that one,” Captain brushed off dust from his coat, a long red one. “And the name’s Jardon, when I’m not on stage.”

“No offense, but you really don’t seem like a performer.”

“I’m not, really,” Jardon stuffed a hand in his pockets and pulled out a handful of parts that looked like a crushed comm. Izun felt an increase in angelic magic, like the air pressure rising before a distant storm. “I just like fighting and then some friend started a story world that felt a little too close to some things we’d been talking about and now here I am. What color?”

“What?”

“Your comm, what color do you want it? I only have so many, but you can always paint it if you hate it,” Jardon held out four cases to him, red, pink, yellow, and blue.

“Blue.”

“Great.”

“Why are you helping me just like that?”

“The smart reason is that the sooner you can leave the world, the sooner you’ll leave me alone.”

“And the dumb reason?”

“We’re meant to help people, and for some reason I failed your mortal, even if I didn’t realize at the time.”

“Oh.” He felt some of his anger defuse, but he couldn’t let go of all his animosity. Tango wrote about this guy with some sort of nervousness only reserved for the demons he mentioned in his notes.

“So, uh, what happened to them?”

“I found Tango after the deal, and the circle… I’m just trying to find out what happened.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” he paused to hold a wire between his teeth as he popped in button covers into the side of the comm.

“What do you mean, ‘not the end of the world?’ He Fell. Everyone keeps telling me he’s gone.”

“Well,” he spit out the wire, “If angels can come back, why can’t mortals? What’s your tag?”

Izun couldn’t even begin to parse what Jardon meant by that. Angels couldn’t come back, that was the whole thing about Falling--

“Any tag will work, I just need something to pop in for it to become yours.”

“Sc--” he coughed, his mind had latched onto the only tag he used to know, before his name was yanked from him again. “Sc--Izz”

That wasn’t what he meant to say, he tried to switch to his own name halfway through--

“It looks like Skizz was taken, anything you want to add to it?”

Skizz. He liked the sound of it. It sounded like something he would say. “Why not add something like ‘the man?’”

“Skizztheman is taken, what about Skizzleman? Kinda like Sizzle?” Jardon offered.

“That sounds amazing!”

“A lot better than ‘Captain Sparklez,’ I’ll give you that.”

“That’s your name? Captain Sparklez?”

Jardon gave him an unimpressed look.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome, but definitely doesn’t have the same ring as ‘The Captain.’”

“I lost one bet--”

Something rippled in the air, something angry and searching. Jardon shoved the shiny blue comm into his hands and started sprinting down the alley. Izun blinked before scrambling to follow him. Wingbeats echoed loudly above them.

Surprisingly, it was easy to follow Jardon. It barely took any effort to run around corners and leap over boxes while the other angel’s breathing grew louder and harsher. Izun glanced behind them, feeling that same increase in angelic magic from earlier as he did so. A winged form swooped above them in a searching spiral. He looked intently for Willa’s wing pattern, but it was difficult to pick it out from down below.

Jardon stumbled.

Izun skidded to a stop and dragged him under an overhang, almost throwing him to the ground in his hurry. Jardon’s jacket pooled around him, rumpled and revealing a darkening stain on his shirt. 

“Ianite, come on,” Jardon pleaded under his breath. He raised a hand and pressed it to his stomach, hissing as his hand flickered purple. The wound wasn’t healing. Izun knelt next to him, moving his hand away from the wound.

It was bad. Bits of his shirt were stuck in the torn skin. The flesh felt warm to the touch. Something like this should have healed long ago. His blood was the wrong color, the golden ichor was faded to a tarnished reddish color. 

“Were you poisoned? Did someone have an angelic blade? Or demon steel?”

Jardon shook his head.

“Then why aren’t you healing?” Izun hissed, raising his hand and focusing on the gentle golden light glowing from his palm. Jardon hissed and withdrew as Izun tried to will the skin back together. “What happened?”

“You can’t let them find me, okay? You don’t turn me in and I won’t tell them you’re looking for a Fallen mortal, okay?” Jardon’s breathing was harsh as he pleaded his threat.

Izun withdrew his hand. The light faded.

“You’re Fallen.”

“No, no, no. Give me a week and I’ll be fine.”

“And you’re insane!” Izun spluttered. “You Fell, you can’t be fine!”

Jardon shrugged sharply.

“Does your mortal know?”

“I don’t know. She’s probably fine.”

“Probably?!” Izun shoved himself to his feet and paced. Their little alley hiding place wouldn’t stay secret for long, but how could an angel ignore their mortal?

“She doesn’t need me.”

“Yeah, well that’s what I thought about mine and now he’s dead!”

“Then I guess she’s going to die.”

“That’s why he went to you, isn’t it? He found the one angel who wouldn’t stop him from throwing his friend’s life away! Dop made one good mortal friend who was only out to get him and then that friend spoke to the one angel who wouldn’t care!”

Jardon leaned his head back against the wall and took a deep breath, “If you’re going to yell do it somewhere the angel police won’t find me with you.”

“No. You did this. You’re going to help me fix this. Who is Gnorimoschema?”

“If I tell you, you’ll leave?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” Jardon shifted with a groan and sat up straight. “He’s a demon, a gambler. I’m guessing your friend went to him for information since he’s got contacts with all the major demons and a couple angels. He knows a lot about contracts too, he’s even held the contracts for other demon souls before.”

“Great.”

“He’ll talk to angels and he never cheats, but don’t trust him.”

“Like I trusted you?”

Jardon shrugged and Izun glared, his look only softening when he saw a hint of fear in the Fallen angel’s eyes. The angel’s jaw moved, like he was trying to work up to saying something, like he was realizing something.

“Was he a netherborn?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jardon said. “I remember talking to a netherborn redstoner who was asking about demon contracts.”

“Right, right,” Izun blinked as that confirmed everything. Tango was asking about contracts. Tango made all the notes. Tango had Dop’s blood literally on his hands. His chest ached.

Wing flaps shook him from his thoughts. They were running out of time. Jardon shifted up.

“I can’t jump worlds like this. I told you what you needed. Now you have to help me. If they catch us you can say goodbye to finding your mortal again.”

“Like you did?” Izun glared. “Do you even know where your mortal is?”

Jardon glared back at him. “If you’re not going to help then get out of here.”

Izun’s breath hissed harshly through his teeth. He took a step back and away. Then he took another. The angelic power soared again and Jardon groaned in pain. He didn’t know why he felt like he was getting closer to the top of the wall in his heart. This was the right thing.

Fallen angels are a threat.

He turned and dashed through the alleyways away from the Fallen. He glanced back once and saw pure white wings descending on Jardon’s slumped form. The winged angel looked up and their eyes locked with his. His breath froze in his chest as they pointed and he heard more wingbeats above him.

He fumbled with his new comm. The buttons were foreign to him, but somehow he managed to punch in one of the server addresses Tango had scribbled on one of his notes.

Something tackled him from behind and the comm jumped into the air.

Izun caught it in his left hand.

He hit confirm as he collided with the ground. 

The weight disappeared from his back.

Lights streaked past him and he curled up in a ball. His stomach swooped. The air rushed through his hair. It was deafening. The void pressed in and whispered

“You are Light, little one.”

His hands and knees impacted the ground first and he rolled to his back to lessen the impact.

The sky was still blue. Clouds drifted above him as he slowly became aware of a faint gritty texture under his fingers. He glanced to the left and saw an infinite flat expanse of sandstone. He was on a testing world. Izun pushed himself up and saw redstone contraptions dotting the landscape, alongside a small hut in the distance.

He recognized those contraptions. That was Tango’s early draft of his iron farm. That was the cow farm he’d been talking about.

What are the chances the first address he found was Tango’s homeworld?

- .- -. --. --- -.-.--

Chapter Text

--- -... . -.--

The schematic placed another block. The schematic placed another block. The schematic placed another block. The schematic placed another block. The schematic-- placed a line of redstone. He wished someone was there, someone he could talk to about what he was doing. There was someone who could do this so much better than him.

The schematic placed another block. The schematic placed another block. The schematic placed another block. 

The demon was back.

A hand brushed through his hair, and he shuddered.

“Very clever.” The paper in the corner of his eye was dwarfed by the hand clutching it, wrinkling the corner with long, pointed claws. “But if I wanted a printer, I could have anyone build something like this.”

The schematic placed another block. His head yanked back, grasped by the back of his neck.

“ [---------] , I summon your mind to complete something… breathtaking. ”

He didn’t have a name —he had a name once; where did it go? He had friends, he had a family--

“ [---------]... ” It felt like something dark tearing into him, pouring out of his skin and eyes. It felt like ice freezing in his chest, pushing against his ribcage. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The man without a name felt redstone grit stuck between his teeth. He was someplace dark and hot. Red dust covered everything, floating through the air and making it hard to see into the distance. He was holding a stack of netherrack. Stacks of redstone components filled the rest of his inventory. He was surrounded by the sounds of pistons and dispensers and hoppers clicking and smashing. Lights flashed as redstone lines sent signals around the whole redstone city he found himself in. A medium-sized redstone machine rested in front of him. It felt… familiar.

That was his Ghast-Catcher. It was half built, but it was his. He ran his hand along the edge of the piston line. His friends made fun of the way he carved the grooves for the iron prongs, but it made them stronger in the long run. One of his friends, he couldn’t remember their name, said they always looked crooked, like they were from an old cartoon.

“Well?” The demon was clutching his blueprints. “Go on.”

The dark chunk of ice in his soul demanded he listen. It yanked him to open his inventory, and he took stock of what he had. 

Complete. Something. Breathtaking.

He didn’t do “breathtaking.” He did practical. Breathtaking was what-- he didn’t remember their name. Someone else did breathtaking.

He grabbed random blocks and components and started placing, trying to think of anything he could build. The demon required his independent thought, so this needed to be new. He was somewhere in the nether, if his ghast-catcher was any indication.

“I swear, there has to be a better way to do this,” he remembered someone saying. Their voice had a faint wheeze to it, always followed by a cough. “Xisuma is getting paranoid about overflow again, and I’m sick of fixing this.”

He placed a line of chests and crafted some hoppers. The repetitive, familiar motion was comforting. The demon watched over his shoulder.

“You could always be like [----] and--” He remembered his past self saying.

“Oh, no! No, I need a sorting system. Chest monsters are banned from my base.”

“Well, get me on the server and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Or make a new design now and get all rich-ificated out there.” The voice had coughed, long and hard.

He couldn’t remember anything else from the conversation as he carefully placed the lines of redstone and calibrated the comparators. The design felt new to him, but he remembered scratching ideas down in the middle of the night, somewhere before this place.

A hand grabbed his neck again, and he froze. Claws pricked against his skin, right along his pulse point.

“What’s this?”

“It’s an item sorting system,” his voice sounded raw, the words scraped against the back of his throat. “Most designs have issues with overflow and lock up, but this one fixes all of that.”

“And what makes you think that I would find this breathtaking?”

It’s not for you, he thought, before he was eating a mouthful of netherrack, shoved into the ground. Bits of gravel dug into his elbows and knees.

“Everything you make is for me,” the demon growled. The darkness was all-encompassing. He couldn’t breathe without it filling his lungs. He couldn’t escape-- “What gave the impression I would let you make anything for anyone else?”

Oh, he hated this demon. It had taken everything from him, his name, his family, his memories. He tried to remember that voice more.

A flicker of fire.

A wheezy laugh.

A redstone genius.

“It was for--”

He was pushed deeper into the ground, and his lungs burned.

“It was for Tango!” His voice was unnaturally deep and guttural. Tango, the netherborn. Tango, his first friend on a hub server. Tango, who understood him and his life better than anyone. 

The ice in his chest burned with how cold it got, and claws dragged down his back in waves of fire, but he clung to memories of late-night calls and inside jokes. He just got this part of himself back; he wasn’t giving it up without a fight.

“You are nothing. You are a blueprint, a first draft, so act like it,” the demon growled. “And make me something breathtaking.”

He impulsively growled back at it, matching its tone, getting one more swipe of claws along his back for his trouble. Then the ice in his chest burned cold again, and he was forced back to his feet. 

And he got back to work. If the demon wanted breathtaking, he would give it breathtaking. He always wanted to build that gold and XP farm he’d been planning for a while. He placed a block. He placed a block. He placed a block. He placed a block. 

He placed a block and clung to that name. Tango. Tango. Tango.

- .- -. --. ---

Izun looked around Tango’s world, taking in the redstone contraptions floating in the air, as he walked towards the small hut in the distance. It reminded him of Dippledop’s home server in a strange way, empty in its vastness. Sunlight shone through the doorway, revealing a messy bed and shelves covered in clutter.

A side table was covered in empty potion bottles. He approached and grabbed the closest one. Light pink drops ran down the side as he swirled it. Regen. The whole table was regen potions. Izun sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, the bottle still in his hand. 

Why did Tango make the deal?

The glass clunked lightly as he set it back down. Izun didn’t understand mortals, not really. They were unpredictable and messy and had whole, complete lives unlike his own. But on the other hand, he did understand Tails and his longing for someone he loved. His willingness to give up anything for them. He certainly understood him better than Mr. Sparkles. 

He pulled out his new comm. The cool metal casing fit perfectly in his hand. He flipped open the menus and scrolled through them. The address for Tango’s home server sat lonely at the top. The next menu held Jardon’s contact. In his hurry to get out, he didn’t get Tails’s or Honey’s contacts. The broken bond in his heart ached a little.

The comm clicked off, and he stood. Tango’s place wasn’t large, just a single room with a few chests. Three of them were empty. One held blueprints for redstone contraptions, and one held blueprints for a base design. There were no notes on demons. No mentions of deals. He must have put everything in his journal, including the loose papers stuffed in there.

But there was something weird about the last chest. The lid was somehow thicker than the rest. In any other world, he would chalk it up to a weird craft, but this was a redstone testing world set to creative. Everything here should have been perfect and exact.

Izun lifted the lid again and felt along the edges. The wood grain caught on his fingernails until he found a small divot and pulled. A sheet of wood swung open, revealing a hidden compartment, and three pieces of paper fluttered down.

The first had a scorch mark towards the top, blotting out writing underneath it. Below the scorch mark, he could read the start of what looked like a letter.

[-----]

I’m sorry. This isn’t what--

I promised you

I’m not from

She is--

This has been…

He pulled up the next paper.

Izun 

Nope. He was not reading a letter from Tango to himself right now. He picked up the last paper.

Xisuma,

I’m going away for a while, but I wanted you to know that Hermitcraft is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I know I’m not really one to get all sappy, but you deserve to hear it. Tell everyone I’ll miss them, and tell them not to miss me too much.

If you’re worried about having enough redstoners, I highly recommend my friend [-----]. He’s exactly what Hermitcraft needs. 

Thanks for giving me a chance,

Tango of the Tek Variety

Obviously, these were written before the deal, and as much as Izun knew he needed to think about that more, it didn’t stop his heart from sinking. Tango thought he was going to die, permanently. 

Tango thought he was going to die and didn’t tell him or Dippledop anything about it. 

“Oh, Top. ” He gently folded up the notes and stuck them in his inventory with a flash of light. His voice was more fragile than he expected. 

Izun sat in the empty house and realized there was no winning option. Either Top would have died permanently, or Dop would have been lost forever. There was no part of his heart that would have chosen one over the other.

It always ended up with him alone and his buddies in pain. He pressed his hand to his chest as his broken bond ached fiercely.

He took a deep breath. He summoned some signs and marched out of the tiny house. Izun shoved them into the ground and began writing down every server address he had from Tango’s notes.

-

The music was loud as Izun wandered through the bar. The bass vibrating in his chest mixed with the jostling of the people around him. He couldn’t see any demons, but he couldn’t see past the people in front of him, either.

“Hello, handsome,” a voice purred in his ear. He turned and froze as a demon wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a fallen angel?”

“I’m, well, I’m not Fallen?”

“Oh, sorry. I must have had too much to drink. Sorry, sweetie,” her teeth were sharp as she grinned.

“I’m looking for a Norino-- uh, Gnorimoschema?”

“Oh, you are just aching to Fall, aren’t you? You don’t need ol’ grumpy face for that. I can help you out for free.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Maybe if you dance with me, we can find out--”

He shoved her away and tried to find someone else to talk to, but the music was too loud and the crowd too thick--

The night ended with Izun flat on his back in an alleyway as a bouncer slammed the door behind him. He hadn’t even done anything wrong!

.-

“I know the owner!” Izun exclaimed. “We go way back. Just ask him!” 

The bouncers exchanged a glance before they waved over an admin not involved in the poker tournament. She pulled out her comm, and he got one word in before he got kicked.

“Oh, come on!”

-.

The bartender wiped a glass with a rag as Izun entered. The group chatting in a corner booth looked like the only customers. He almost walked out until the bartender made eye contact with him. He was younger, with messy brown hair and an orange vest. His ear shape didn’t look entirely human, but Izun couldn’t place what it reminded him of.

“Why the long face?” the bartender asked.

“It’s been a long week,” he slid onto a barstool. “What do you have?”

“A couple of ciders, beers, and a new wine from a modded world.”

“Whiskey?”

“Not on this server.”

“I’ll take a beer,” Izun sighed. 

“Coming right up.”

“This is a long shot, but have there been any demons here recently?” He took a sip from his drink.

The bartender glanced up and over at the group in the corner, “You just missed one who was here last night.”

“Who?”

“Some guy called Normie, or something like it. I don’t know.”

“When will he be back?”

“Don’t know,” he turned away to grab another glass to polish. “He comes and goes, but he won’t be back here for another month at least.”

“Great.”

Izun drank the rest of his beer and left a tip before heading out, ignoring the conversation growing louder from the corner booth.

--.

He didn’t dare sleep in Tango’s bed. He didn’t dare sleep. There were too many addresses to check, too many places on those servers to track down. He crossed out address after address, moving them into different rows to track dead ends and possible leads.

The day/night cycle was turned off on Tango’s redstone world, so he had no way to track the time, but his eyes were twitchy and closing every few seconds.

His handwriting grew shaky.

He just needed a second to rest his eyes.

---

The garden was a stark contrast to any of the other worlds. Trees stretched as far up as he could see, many of them bearing fruit in greens and reds and oranges and purples. The wind rustled the leaves, and he could have sworn he saw parrots flying up ahead.

The trees thinned out into neat rows as they became smaller, more manageable. A woman reached up and grabbed a fruit from a tree in the distance. Her hair was long and grey and fell halfway down her back; small portions of it were pulled up and wrapped around horns coming out of her forehead. They almost looked like antlers.

“Hello?” He called out.

The figure startled and swung her basket around behind her before whirling around. Her eyes widened.

He gently raised his hands in peace and stopped getting closer.

“I just need to know where someone is!”

“I don’t make deals anymore. Find help somewhere else.”

“No deals, I don’t make deals.” He stepped closer. “It’s just a question.”

“Who sent you?”

“Me! My friend made a bad deal, and it got someone hurt. I need to find a guy called Gnorimoschema to help him.”

She stayed quiet, but picked up her basket again and walked over. As she got closer, he could see her eyes were slitted like a cat’s, and she had a small tail lashing behind her.

“Can you help me?” he asked.

“You don’t want to mess with him,” she said, looking up at him. “He’s dangerous and will take everything you have.”

“So you do know him.”

“He used to own my contract,” she started, leading him down the rows of trees. “I had to trick him in order to get free.”

“How did you do that?”

“I changed my name,” she said quietly. “It took a lot of work, but contracts can’t hold if you’re not named in them.”

Izun slowed to a stop and took in the trees around them. “So you started as a demon then? Fallen mortals lose their names.”

“Most do, but only when the deal is complete. The lucky ones are given new names by their masters. Others are left as shells, ghosts.”

“Can I ask your name?”

“No,” her smile was sad. “If the person you’re trying to save has already Fallen, angel, leave them and save others.”

“Woah, woah, woah, I can’t just leave him! He needs help!”

“Is it better to save one man, or prevent a hundred more from needing to be saved?” She lifted a hand and plucked a leaf from a branch, holding it in her hand. “I’ve read what the angels teach. There is wisdom in it.”

“Is that why you’ve locked yourself in this world?” he asked. “To prevent anyone from making a deal with you?”

She stayed silent.

“Don’t you want to talk to someone?”

“I’m a demon, angel.”

“Look, I don’t care what some angels have written down somewhere. I was taught to save people, and that’s what I’m going to do. I will dive through the depths of the nether and drag Dippledop out by the back of his shirt if I need to, and you deserve someone who would be willing to do that for you, Angelface.”

“Is that a nickname?” Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s kinda what I do.”

“Gnorimoschema has a favorite spot for making deals. He’s there every Friday. I can give you the server address.”

“Thanks, Angelface.”

“Drag him out by the back of his shirt, Angel.” She took his hands in hers, and Izun smiled. 

“When I'm done with that, I’m going to drag you out of here and get you some friends, okay?”

“We’ll see.”

-.. .- .-. -.-

The bar was quieter, but decently crowded. Most tables played poker or other card games. Every once in a while, someone laughed or yelled, but someone was playing music in the corner that kept the vibes calmer. Izun sauntered through and looked around. At a back table sat a large demon with moth wings draped over his chair and dragging against the floor.

A young man tapped a chip on the tabletop before tossing it into a pile in the center. He got the feeling the demon was bristling with self-satisfaction. The two of them revealed cards-- which he couldn’t see from the front of the bar-- before the young man sighed and walked away.

He quickly walked up to take the young man’s place.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Not at all, not for someone like you,” the demon’s voice sounded warm, welcoming.

“I’m a bit of a gambler myself,” Izun took a seat, “but I don’t get too many chances to play. How about we play a little game and get to know each other a bit?”

“Well,” the demon’s face split into a grin, “who am I to deny a new player? Have you ever played with Nether Region rules?”

“Can’t say I have.”

The demon gathered chips and slid them across the table to him. They caught the light in a strange way, like they weren’t quite real. “Mortals have their vices, but I like something a bit more interesting. A good game needs some stakes, show a little skin especially ‘round the nether regions.”

“Now you’re talkin’ my language,” Izun chuckled. “Strip poker?”

“If you’d like,” he shrugged. “You decide what your chip is worth. It could be a question the other may ask, could be a favor, could be a secret. All that matters is that it’s worth it to you and that the call is of equal value. The only Buy-in is your name with no funny business attached. Still talkin’ your language?”

“I’ve never wanted to play a game more,” Izun leaned forward and grabbed the chips, stacking them in front of himself. “My name is Izun, yours?”

“Gnorimoschema.”

“Gesundheit.”

“Who let you out of the nest? You’ve practically gone native down here.”

“Does that question count as the blind, Nori? I can call you Nori, right? You don’t mind.” Izun tapped a chip on the table, racking his brain to think of something of value to wager.

“Well, I have several questions, so sure. Let’s call the blind a question each?” Nori slapped a chip down. It flashed a binding purple as it hit the tabletop.

Izun slapped a chip down, watching as it flashed the same purple.

“I almost forgot, we can’t have a fair game without a proper dealer. Spirit!”

His breath caught as a glowing figure stood up from another table and sat down with them. Her hair flickered with a rusty orange flame, her skin pale and glowing from an inner light. She was a netherborn, just like Tango, in every way except for the empty look in her eyes. It was like someone had reached in and plucked any shine from her soul.

She mechanically dealt cards to the two of them and didn’t acknowledge Izun in the slightest.

“Do you like my pet?” Nori looked at the netherborn appraisingly. “It doesn’t get out much, so don’t mind if it’s a little clumsy with the cards.”

“Right,” he took a moment to collect himself and look at his cards. It didn’t look good. 

The dealer, whatever her name was, dealt the first cards.

Still not good for him.

“I’ll call,” Nori said.

“Pass.”

“Already?” Nori leaned in. “And I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Angel.”

Nori caught the chip as Izun tossed it over.

“Sounds like you have a question, what will it be?” Izun tried a winning smile. “Cashing in the one from earlier?”

“No, I think I have a better one: What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Izun felt a flare of purple around his throat, burning at the base of his neck. The words were torn from him: “I had a friend who talked to you a few weeks ago. I’m trying to find who he made a deal with.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” something flashed in Nori’s eyes. “Can I ask his name, or is that going to cost another chip?”

“I can’t say.” Izun managed to get out through the purple. It wasn't exactly answering the question--

Nori’s grin deepened. “I think I remember your friend. Human, was he? So desperate to find out about demons. He must have been such a hassle to keep in the Light. If you weren’t so excited about the game, I’d say cut your losses and leave him for dead, Angel.”

He carefully schooled his expression. There was no way Dippledop had actually been here. Tango made the deal… right? There was something deeply unsettling about that grin. Izun wasn’t a liar by principle, but being forced to reveal more than he meant threw him off balance. But if Tango-- or Dippledop-- had been here, he couldn't back out now.

The dealer took back their cards, and Nori tossed another chip in. 

“I'll say small blind is another question? Keep it simple, huh?”

“How about a question you can ask at any point in the game for the big blind?” Izun tossed another chip in. 

The netherborn dealt their cards.

It was better than the last round, that was for certain. 

“I'll call, the question can now be asked at any time.”

Dealer set out the first card.

“I'll call,” Izun tossed in another chip. “Another question.”

“Tell me you're not that rusty, we can reveal cards now, unless you want to up the ante?”

Izun hesitated, taking back the chip and spinning it through his fingers. He set it carefully back on the table.

“A secret.”

“A good one?”

“You'll think so.” Izun sat back in his chair and waited for Nori.

“I'll call.”

Dealer set out the second card. It wasn't great, but it could be worse. It was so hard to get a read on Nori, only two rounds in, having folded the first round.

“I'll call: another secret.”

Izun picked up a chip and placed it on the other. “Call.”

“Well then, let's have it.”

They revealed their cards, and Izun panicked for a moment before glancing at his cards again. Neither hand was very good, but his own won by just a hair.

“A good round,” Nori hummed. Izun scooped up the chips and placed them on his side of the table. “You bluff well for an angel.”

“I think that's two secrets and a question that you owe me.”

“Well,” his grin spread unnaturally wide, “did you know there is only one reason we can't take the soul of an angel?”

“Can't say that I did.”

Nori paused, waiting.

“But I'm not using my question on that. What's the second secret?”

Nori looked to the dealer, the light from her hair flickering on his face. He reached out a hand, warming it on her flame, and Izun carefully held back, watching, waiting for their conversation to take a turn for the worse.

“Our pets don’t have souls. They’re just soul sand and blaze rods smelted into a higher form, but just like the dust and dirt they come from, they’re made to be disposable. They’re pliant, capable, and easily replaced. I could offer you one, for a price.”

Izun stayed in shocked silence.

“A man like you wandering across servers could use some extra hands around.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Alright then, what’s your question? And then we’ll get the next round going,” Nori lowered his hand back to the table, much to Izun’s relief.

“Well, we did say it could be asked at any time. I don’t mind having an ace up my sleeve,” he smirked. “Figuratively, of course.”

The demon’s look grew dark for only a second before he picked up a chip and tapped it against the table with a smile, “What will the small blind be then?”

Izun looked at the dealer, watched as the light grew brighter as she breathed, staring straight forward while she shuffled. She looked so young. 

“A name.” The chip clattered against the table.

“Oh, interesting. I’ll add a server address that the other doesn’t have for the big blind.”

“I… don’t know many of those.”

Nori cocked his head and tossed the chip in anyway. The spirit dealt the first cards.

And they were good. He looked up at Nori, trying to get a read on him. Nothing. Izun took a chip in his hand. He knew a lot of names and not a lot of servers, and none of them were ones he wanted to give up. He tossed in the chip.

“With that big a blind, I’ll toss in a question.”

“I’ll call.”

Each revealed card was a nail-biter, the odds getting better and better, but also leaving room for Nori to have a good hand. He wasn’t looking forward to giving up a name, address, two questions, and a secret, but he needed that information.

Nori lowered their cards. 

He lost the round.

“We’ll start with the name,” he grinned.

“Tango,” he blurted out as the purple constricted his throat.

“Its name doesn’t count.”

“Then win another name from me, bucko,” Izun grinned. Nori’s wings rose up past his shoulders, and the scales puffed in annoyance, but the purple remained satisfied.

“Server.”

The purple hovered around his throat, as if it was uncertain of what to do. He felt no pressure to speak.

“Fine,” Nori spat, “Secret, if you would be so kind.”

“Now that was almost polite of you,” Izun felt the purple closing in again, and his mind raced. He needed a moment to think, a moment to force an unimportant secret out. “-I have a daughter.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Izun’s breath definitely wasn’t shaking. 

“That does explain your reaction to my pet,” Nori gestured across to the dealer. “She’s probably young and full of angelic light. It's easy to mistake them.”

He had never glared at someone harder in his life. Nori chuckled.

“Don’t get your ‘feathers’ in a twist. I don’t mess with angelkind, Angel. It just helps me get a feel for who you are. How do you think she’d react, seeing you make deals with a devil?”

“This isn’t a deal.”

“Really? Then I guess our game can end now. I need my opponents to have a little bit of honesty.”

The absolute jerk.

“If you want to play, I need to hear you call this a deal.”

Izun took a deep breath. No purple was choking words out of him. The only one forcing his hand was the demon in front of him. He felt closer to Falling, feeling the vertigo of climbing higher and higher.

“Fine. We’re making deals.”

“Why don’t you have wings?”

The purple was back, thick and choking, and he coughed on it. His chest ached, and he felt the words fall from his mouth without his input.

“I haven’t saved my first mortal yet.”

Nori’s laugh started as a low chuckle that grew to fill the whole room. Other tables stopped and turned to face them, and Izun felt his face grow hot in embarrassment and rage. He wished he had a sword. Nori wiped an imaginary tear from his bug-like eyes.

“The angel who can’t save a single soul, sinners and saints!” Nori cried. “Here to play a game with a devil!”

“You have another question,” Izun spat.

“I need to revel in this a moment longer,” Nori said. “Oh, that is too good. Are you sure you’re here to save your friend and not just another angel trying to fly above everyone else? Maybe there’s a reason you couldn’t save that impulsive little beast. Maybe your daughter should see what--”

“You’re laying it on a little thick.”

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it. It’s in my nature,” Nori’s arms spread wide in celebration. The crowd had already mostly turned back to their tables, but the stragglers quickly looked away as Nori sobered up. Izun tensed. “With those little bombshells you’ve gifted me, I need you to confirm one of my suspicions: Would you save your ex-mortal friend if it meant giving up everything?”

“Yes.”

It took a moment for his thoughts to catch up to the magic, forcing him to speak.

“Even your daughter?”

“That’ll cost another question,” Izun muttered. He cleared his throat and looked up at the spirit in front of him. His voice was clear as he spoke, “Another round?”

“I think we’re just getting started, Angel. ”

The nickname was starting to feel like a taunt.

“We’ll start strong: big blind is a favor.”

“A name,” Izun offered the small blind, glancing at the dealer again.

“ It is not your daughter.”

“Just look at your cards.”

Izun’s cards were good again, but anything could happen. He glanced back up at the demon, who was still looking at his cards. He slowly looked up, looked at the first card on the board, and placed the cards back on the table.

“I fold.”

“What?” Izun blinked.

“I fold. What name do you want?”

Izun sat back and narrowed his eyes. “The dealer. What’s her name?”

“It doesn’t have one,” Nori grinned, but the purple magic still swirled, growing closer and closer to his throat.

“I gave you an actual name last time, even if it wasn’t the one you were looking for.”

“Arrack.” Nori spat out. 

His hand stilled as he almost reached for the notes in his pocket. That was it, the final demon name he needed to find from Tango’s notes.

Nori hissed, and his wings rattled.

Izun grinned.

“I don’t want to cash in my favor yet, is that going to be a problem?”

“No.”

“What is everything you know about Arrack?” Izun grinned. The purple circled like a bird of prey around the other’s throat.

“You’ll need to win another question for that.”

“I did, I’m using my ace. What is everything you know about Arrack?”

Nori hissed, but the magic swirled closer and closer, “Arrack used to be mortal, but the upstart made too many deals and became one of us. She perverts the pets, giving them names to add to her collection. You know why you can never trust mortals? They don’t know when to stop, to give it up. She wants to build a monument to mortal invention under her control, and she will keep gathering little engineers until she’s consumed everything.

“I wonder what she would give to add an angel or two to her collection? You seem like the clever sort. All we’d need to do is nab that little angel girl of yours and you’d come running, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop.”

“This is what I know about Arrack. You will chase her to the end of the universe, just to be caught in her web, and I can’t wait to watch.”

“Stop.”

“Arrack is the owner of your little Tango. Arrack is using your mortal as a test run for all the mortals she could have under her thumb. If you want me to stop talking, all you have to do is use your favor.”

Izun took a deep breath and listened as Nori prattled on and on, going into more and more detail on how Arrack was planning on tearing the world apart until the devil’s voice slowed and slowed. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped talking, finally running out of threats and ever-increasing detail of how they would carry them out. Izun tossed his cards on the table. Nori had pocket Kings when he folded.

The dealer took back their cards.

“We’re done playing,” Nori hissed. 

“Fine by me, homie-buddy. I’ll see you around, Sparkbert,” he nodded at the netherborn. She blinked slowly at that. His hands were shaking. He was fine.

He walked away, leaving the fuming devil behind him. Izun was only calm until the bar door closed behind him, then he scrambled to get his comm to hop back to Tango’s world. His hands shook as he typed in the familiar address. Adira was in trouble.

.. -- .--. ..- .-.. ... .. ...- ...--..

Chapter Text

.. -- .--. -....-

As soon as his feet touched the sandstone in Tango’s redstone testing world, Izun called Jardon’s comm.

“Sparklez--” he started.

“Who is this?” An unexpected voice answered, a feminine voice.

“You’re not Sparklez.”

“Your friend here is in trouble, so choose your next words carefully.” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, like he should know her. “Hello?”

“Cara!?”

“...Izun?” she replied, sounding just as shocked as he felt.

“Oh, thank goodness. Is Adira alright? Do you know where she is?”

Silence on the other end. Izun walked over to a redstone build and leaned against a wall, waiting.

“She’s back here. She’s fine.”

Izun's knees almost gave out in relief, “Thank goodness.”

“What did you do?” Cara demanded.

“What makes you think I did something?”

“You’re a Protector. You’re always doing something.”

“Well--”

“And you disappeared the day she got her first assignment when you were specifically put on bedrest. Then you were next spotted hanging out with a Fallen Angel we currently have in custody. The only time you reach out to see how she’s doing is when you think she’s in danger. What did you do?”

“I made an enemy.”

Cara scoffed on the other line.

“A demon might hurt her to get to me.”

“And you think she can’t handle herself?”

“Not against this. I don’t think anyone could, just please, look after her,” Izun pleaded. Cara hummed on the other side. Izun closed his eyes. “You’re coming after me, aren’t you?”

“Not me specifically.”

“Just, don’t send Adira after me, please. Don’t do that to her.”

“I don’t have any say in that,” Cara sounded apologetic, her voice softened for the first time on the call.

“She loves you, you know,” Izun said. 

“...I love her too.”

“Take care of her.”

“I already do.”

Izun sighed. His heart ached. “You know, in mortal prisons they get one free phone call. Can I talk to Jardon?”

“No.”

“Figured that was a longshot.”

“Just come home, Izun,” Cara almost pleaded. 

“I will, when my assignment is done,” he promised, ending the call with a click.

He put his comm back in his inventory with a flash of light. The wide expanse of Tango’s testing world stretched out around him, the sunlight almost blinding as it reflected across the sandstone. His hand wasn’t shaking.

Adira was fine.

He picked his way around inventions as he made his way back to Tango’s hut. One of his signs was knocked down. Someone was here. He heard something shuffling inside the hut as he got closer. It was too soon for the angels to have found him, but he didn’t have much time before they did.

Izun inched forward, careful to avoid his shadow crossing through the open doorway. Firelight flickered on the walls as he saw Tango hunched over his chest of blueprints. The door squeaked. Tango’s head jerked towards him.

He looked worse than he did at Dippledop’s house, tired and worn and thin.

“You have a player tag?” Tango said in shock.

Izun pulled out his comm and waved it awkwardly. His eyes darted to Tango’s hands. Honestly, Izun had lost track of how much time had passed between their encounter in Dippledop’s house and now. Between his hunts through every server he could find it could have been days or weeks since they last saw each other.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Dop’s blood was no longer dried under Tango’s fingernails. 

“This doesn’t have to be a fight,” Tango warned, backing away from the doorway. “Look, I get it. I’m me, and Dippledop’s Fallen now. You can go and do whatever you want. If your kind doesn’t care about netherborn or Fallen mortals, then tell your friends that Arr-- Arrack is not going to stop. Prevent a hundred more from falling, right? She’s going to drag more mortals into her empire. So… stop her and save them.”

“I--” Pain swirled through his chest, but Tango pressed on, cutting him off.

“I promise, I just need one more thing, and then I will stay away from angels and devils and spirits--”

“What?!” Izun stepped closer, but froze as Tango flinched.

“I need his name.”

“Dippledop’s?” Izun looked around the room, eyes lingering on Tango’s book crammed with notes that was gently sitting on his nightstand. Next to empty regen bottles. “But he’ll still be soulless, even if you summon him.”

“It’s better than being with her. ” Tango turned back to the chest, riffling through blueprints. He caught a few words written on it: ‘witch,’ ‘swamp,’ and ‘experimental.’

“Would he even have a name now?” Izun hazarded walking closer, behind Tango as he fidgeted with the blueprints.

“Arr-- She’s prideful. She doesn’t want mindless drones. She wants geniuses who are at her beck and call. She gives everyone a name.”

“... Including you?”

Tango slammed the chest closed and stared into the middle distance.

“Tango?”

“You think anyone would choose to be called ‘Tango?’” he scoffed.

“I think it suits you. You’re just so full of dance and cheer.”

Tango actually laughed at that, his fire glowing brighter for a second. It had easily been a year since he’d last heard that laugh. Izun’s chest ached. Then his mind drifted back to the game with Nori. 

“Did Arrack and Gnorimoschema get along?”

“They hated each other, why?”

“Nori called Dop an impulsive little beast. Could be a clue?”

“She called him impulsive during the deal,” Tango’s eyes widened. He snatched the overstuffed journal from his nightstand and spread his papers around the floor until he picked one up and slapped it on a table. It held a rough sketch of some summoning runes. “She liked using descriptors for names. She found them easier to remember.”

Tango scrawled some runes on the paper.

“Impulsive.”

Nothing happened.

Tango tried something else. Nothing.

“What if it’s a play on words?” Izun picked up a scrap piece of paper and scrawled a couple words on the paper. “His playertag was two words, starting with S and V. Impulsesv? It almost looks like Impulsive.”

“She would have learned from me to make the name harder to guess outright, just a little trick to try and throw us off course.”

Izun looked across at him, but Tango refused to elaborate as he scrawled the new guess in runes on the original paper.

“[---------]” The name scrambled and swirled, making it impossible to read. 

“ImpulseSV,” Tango spoke again and it revealed itself. The paper glowed orange before falling dormant again.

“Why didn’t it work?” Izun picked the paper up and held it to the light coming through the window. Tango snatched the paper back and raised his comm strapped to his arm. Izun jolted forward and grabbed his wrist in a panic.

“I can’t summon him here,” Tango sounded apologetic. “It’s not protected. She’ll just grab him again. I need to go to Hermitcraft.”

“Why would your fancy art server be safer than here?” With me, he finished in his head. He looked down at the server, as if the address would reveal its secrets. It was only a couple digits long. Hermitcraft must be old to have such a simple address.

“I can’t tell you that. That defeats the purpose of it being a protected server.”

“Wait--”

Tango paused, a frantic hope in his eyes. 

His voice was softer than he meant it to be when he spoke, but he was just so tired. “Why did you make the deal, Tango?”

Izun watched as that frantic hope bleed from Tango’s eyes, burning into anger and spite.

“You think-- What the hell, man?” Tango yanked his arms from his grasp.. “I didn’t ask for this! You think I wanted him to go through hell? You think I wanted him to take my place?”

Izun took a step back as Tango crowded him, his tail lashing behind him and lighting up the room in bursts.

“I knew I should have laid low when I got out. I knew what this would cost, that someone else would end up hurt-- I thought that’s why you were after me-- but all this time you thought I sold him out!”

“Your hands were covered in blood, dude!”

Tango laughed hysterically, “Where were you then, when I felt his blood seeping through my fingers? Where were you when I was scrambling to keep him alive? Where were you when she dragged him down with her?”

“How was I supposed to know? When were you going to tell us you were dying then, huh? I could have helped!”

“And what could you have done, Angel?” Tango spat. “I’m not meant to be alive! Nothing could have saved me.”

“You look pretty alive now.”

“I wasn’t going to make the deal,” Tango snarled. “That wasn’t the plan. It isn’t my fault he rewrote my contract. She was always going to choose his soul over keeping a little bit of sand dancing for her entertainment.”

“We could have figured something out.”

“Well I told one person, and look where it got us!”

They both stood there, chests heaving as the air fell quiet. The world felt hollow. Izun’s heart ached. Tango stepped back, his fire deepening in color from pale white to a red as he calmed.

“I’m bringing him back. If you want your precious wings or whatever you’re after, find someone else to save.”

Tango’s smile was bitter as he hit a button on his comm, sending the address into the aether--77 117 115 105 99--and disappeared through his fingers again, taking his chance of seeing Dippledop again with him.

Hermitcraft: Present Day

He could finally do it. He could finally fix everything. Grains of glowstone fell from his palm as Tango carefully spread the circle across their glass platform hovering over the swamp below. Every speck had to be in the right place in order to make it through Xisuma’s wards. Each rune needed to be traced perfectly to make sure his friend was the only demon that could come to his summons. He pulled out a handful of redstone dust to lengthen the connection to the deep nether, doubling back over everything.

“So, uh do you need anything from us?” Mumbo asked from where he stood watching with Xisuma.

“Nope.”

He perfected the redstone lines before pulling out a blaze rod knife. Tango put it up to his hair and trimmed off a bit of fire, holding its warmth in the palm of his hand. He placed a piece of netherrack in the center of the circle to hold the flame steady.

Three Weeks Earlier

“I need to know everyone’s redstone plans for the season,” Tango snapped, pulling out a fresh notebook. “And if you know if anyone else has some big plans. Like if Slip is doing anything else with his elevator--”

“Woah, woah,” Xisuma stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from his wall covered in signs. Netherrack dust still covered his skin from her summoning, spreading his flame down his arms.  “Slow down, what's going on?”

“You all voted… my friend into the server right?”

Xisuma and Mumbo exchanged a confused glance and nodded.

“Okay, well he's in trouble and it's my fault.”

Present Day

Tango pulled out his notes and took a deep breath. The galactic text twisted his tongue, but he kept speaking. His flame flickered violently and he could see the tips starting to turn blue.

Mumbo and Xisuma stepped back as a bright light started in the center of the circle. It was brighter than magma, almost brighter than the sun.

Three Weeks Earlier

“He made a deal with a demon,” Tango started, looking down to not meet their eyes. “A demon who used to hold my contract. Which is good news! She doesn't realize yet that she's left some loopholes that we can abus-ificate.”

“At risk of coming off wrong here, why did she have your contract?” Mumbo asked

“It doesn't matter. You can kick me out after we get my friend on the server.”

“Tango--” Xisuma started, but Tango pushed through.

“My contract wasn't supposed to hold any weight. It was really a tool so she could make me more useful, not to trap me. So we can summon my friend easily. We just need a reason, a task that only he can complete, for him to be on Hermitcraft.”

“Well, he's your friend, right? Isn't he the only one who can do that?” Mumbo offered

Tango blinked. That might work--

“Or, if I understand demon contracts right, that would force him to be your friend, right? He wouldn't have any say in it.” Xisuma said.

“Crap,” Tango ran a hand down his face.

Present Day

He could start to see a form in the light, around the size of his buddy. Small horns poked out from his forehead, but he was alive. He was okay.

Tango kept chanting. He could feel the blaze power in his soul burn brighter. If he looked down at his hands, he knew they would be glowing brighter than ever. 

One Week Earlier

“What if he helped with the witch farms?” Xisuma offered as they sat in the quiet evening trying to finish their plan to save his buddy. 

“It could work, but weren’t we waiting for Ethoslab to help with that?” Tango replied.

“We never know when a new update could shift everything and make our plans not work. The faster we get it done the better, and I don’t know about you, but having one redstoner per hut would be ideal. I don’t have time to do two.”

“Me neither,” Tango’s laugh came out as a huff.

“I imagine the same is probably true for Mumbo.”

“The kid needs to sleep sometime.”

“I’d say the same goes for you,” Xisuma’s helmet tilted at him judgmentally.

“Hypocrite.”

“Hmm.”

“He also specializes in farms. He’s the perfect one to help,” Tango said.

“The only one?”

“Yep,” he felt something loosen in his chest. They could do this. He just needed to perfect his summoning circle and they could bring home. “Let’s get his help with the quad witch farm.”

Present Day

“ImpulseSV!” Tango screamed. “Come to our aid!”

The silhouette in the circle turned to face him. Glowing, golden eyes met his own. Tango felt a surge of satisfaction like finishing a build above his ability or fixing a broken redstone line.

“Tango?” his friend’s voice was shaky, and uncertain. Tango dashed into the circle, grabbing onto him and holding him up.

“I summon you to help us build a quad witch farm,” Tango finished in a whisper. His friend slumped into him in relief. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”

“Tango.” His friend slipped down and he gently lowered him to the ground. “Where am I?”

“You’re on Hermitcraft. You’re safe now.”

“Hello there, friend,” Xisuma stepped forward. “Is there a name you prefer to be called by?”

“Well, there used to be, I guess. What did you call me, when you got me out?”

“ImpulseSV?”

“I guess, I guess Impulse is fine?” Impulse was shaking. Tango placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“We’ll stick with it for now, until something changes,” Xisuma nodded. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

Impulse’s eyes glowed golden for a moment and he forced himself to his feet, “Where’s the witch huts?”

“Hey, hey,” Tango scrambled up and stood in front of him. “We don’t have to start now, you need to rest--”

“I can’t stop ,” Impulse sounded apologetic and pained.

Tango remembered the pang of her commands and took a deep breath. “Okay then. You can’t work without food and rest. You’ll be faster and better if you have that. Does that help?”

Impulse stood awkwardly, before nodding with a tight look on his face.

“The huts are down below, but we have more resources and bases back towards spawn,” Xisuma offered. 

“I have some extra materials when the time comes,” Mumbo spoke up. Impulse nodded in gratitude. 

“Here, let’s get you home,” Tango put a hand on his back to guide him back to spawn, but Impulse flinched away.

Tango froze and removed his hand. Long tears marred the back of Impulse’s shirt, revealing scabbed over wounds. The edges were red and inflamed. Heat radiated from his back and Tango hissed in sympathy.

“Yeah, you’re not building until we get that infection under control, buddy.”

Tango looked at Xisuma and saw his own worries reflected in his admin’s eyes. This was just the beginning of a long, terrifying road.

.... --- -- .

Izun tried to plug in Hermitcraft’s address as soon as Tango disappeared. 

[Access Denied]

He tried again.

[Access Denied]

And again. Over and over again, until he was curled over his comm like it was the last bit of light in the entire universe.

He was close to Falling, and he didn’t care.

An angelic presence grew nearby, then another. Izun took a shaky breath and straightened up. Time to face the music.

There were two angels outside, hovering in the air. Of course Willa would be the one to bring him in. He was filled with relief when he didn’t recognize the other one. They landed in front of him and Izun took a deep breath.

“Hey fellas.”

“Izun,” Willa’s hands twitched like he wanted to reach out and grab him, for a hug or restraint he couldn’t tell.

“I’m not Fallen, if you’re worried about that.” Even to himself his voice sounded flat, and empty.

“You’re going to have to come back with us,” Willa’s voice was gentle. “We can fix this.”

Izun didn’t fight as the other angel grabbed his arm. He didn’t fight as Willa counted down them going back home together. He didn’t fight as he was escorted through the Hall of Doors and into the main atrium. He didn’t fight when his cell door closed behind him.

.-.. .. --. .... - ..--..

“So, they think I can talk some sense into you,” Jardon was escorted into the cell and the door swung closed behind him.

“Sparklez.” Izun’s voice was flat as he kept staring at the door that was keeping him from everything else. “How’s the Rising going?”

“Rising?” Jardon sat next to him with a huff. “I think I like that, Skizzle. I think it’s going better than you sitting here.”

“I still have my comm. I could get out.”

“But then they’d never let you back to this place.”

He looked around at the perfectly carved stones making the walls, marked with little scratches from previous ‘guests.’ Then he thought about Adira’s favorite training room and the armor stands he taught her to make. He thought of the open sky and the little ones learning to fly. He thought about how proud he had been at the thought of sending Adira off into the world. The golden charms and ceremony hadn’t seemed all that important to him at the time, but his heart ached knowing he might never be able to wear them.

“Staying in this cell isn’t much better,” he said.

“What did you even do? Talking to me isn’t that big a deal. Half the guards here already have.”

“I made deals with a devil and ran away.”

“Ah,” Jardon stretched out and stared out of the small window in the door. “That would probably do it.”

“They’re not horrible people,” he found himself saying. “Well, most of them aren’t horrible. They’re just… people.”

“Hmm.”

“Why should I have to choose between them and us? What if we’re wrong? What if we’ve ignored so many people who need our help because we were too scared to reach out?”

Jardon closed his eyes next to him.

“Would they believe me if I warned them?”

“Which ‘them?’”

“Us, angels. There’s a demon that’s going to target more mortals, someone should know about it, right? And the netherborn! I can’t believe they’ve fallen through the cracks. Why haven’t we been looking after them too?”

“A lot of these people wouldn’t let us help anyway.”

He groaned in frustration.

“Look,” Jardon said. “I’ve been hanging around mortals longer than you. You can only help people who want to be helped. Trying to force it will only make it worse.”

“Or maybe you weren’t trying hard enough,” Izun’s voice went sharp as flint.

“You know, that's what she told me.”

“Your mortal?”

“Yep. She said I should have been there when she needed me. She said she'd be better off on her own. She was right.”

Izun ran a hand down his face and looked at him. Something with Jardon’s face didn’t sit right with him. It was something different than the way light looked like it was hitting him wrong, shadows darker than they should have been and the light harsher than it’s meant to.

“How do you get into a locked world?” he found himself asking.

“You don’t. That’s why they’re locked.”

“Not even with a comm?”

“Especially with a comm,” Jardon sighed. “If you have a comm, then what are you still doing here?”

“There’s only one place to go. Is there any way I can get in?”

“Do you have the server address?” 

Izun nodded.

“Then there is a way, but we need to get out of here to do it.” Jardon had a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“You're how they tracked me down, aren't you?” Izun said. It wasn’t a shock to him, just an observation.

“Do you know what they do to Fallen angels?” Jardon scoffed. “I’m lucky to be alive right now. Of course I had to help them.”

“Why did you Fall?” Izun turned to face him. Jardon was missing his coat from earlier, his shirt was wrinkled but clean. He was favoring his side where he got stabbed. Not a threat.

“What a question, holy… wow. Why do you want to know?”

“I need to know how close I am to the edge.”

“Bad question to ask yourself.”

“I know,” Izun grinned wryly. 

“I’ll spell it out for you: failed my mortal, Skizzle. She doesn’t want me around anymore and I ran. I’ve sat on the edge of Falling for about a year now. I’ve been jumping back and forth across the line in my free time.”

“I’ve already failed mine.”

“Then I dunno, man. I guess it’s different for you,” he shrugged. “Or maybe it’ll hit soon. How would I know? I’m not an expert on all things Falling, dude.”

“But you think you can Rise?” Izun was incredulous. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make sense why Dippledop would make that deal. It didn’t make sense why Jardon was clinging to false hope--

“I already have, a couple of times,” Jardon shifted to be more comfortable. “It’s both the easiest and hardest thing to do.”

“Say I believed you, which I don’t for the record,” Izun said pointedly. “Say I believed you can Rise. How did you figure it out?”

“I don’t really know. I just did it. We talk about Falling like we’re walking a tightrope, but I think I just realized we have a safety net, too. It’s about Balance.”

“If I leave to save him, they’ll never let me walk free again,” he found himself saying.

“Only if you Fall.”

“I’m going to. I’m so close to it,” his voice cracked. It was like his fingertips were reaching for the top of the wall in his heart, finding his last handholds before he tumbled over to the other side. 

“Is he worth it?”

“Maybe not, but I’d never forgive myself if I gave up on him. What kind of friend would I be if I left him? What kind of mentor would I have been if I didn’t follow what I teach?”

Jardon was silent for a moment and Izun watched as he picked at his fingers nervously.

“If we break out, I’ll only let you out if you promise me one thing,” Izun said to him.

“I’m the only one that can get you into your locked world. You don’t have that much leverage, my guy.”

“Promise me you’ll visit her.”

“My mortal? She wants nothing to do with me--”

“Sometimes,” he thought of Tango and their fight, “sometimes you love people you’re mad at. Let her give you another chance.”

“...fine. I’ll do that, Skizzleman.”

“Thanks, Sparklez.”

The door swung open and Izun shoved himself to his feet, prepared to be dragged out or for Jardon to be separated, but Cara just stood in the entryway.

“You have some nerve,” she said.

“Cara, I need to get into that world.”

She took a deep breath and moved to close the door. Izun rushed forward and grabbed it before she could close it all the way.

“This is my job, Cara. I need to Protect him--”

“Falling protects no-one,” Cara snapped, pushing the door back open and shoving him back in the process. “Do you think I like hunting down twisted versions of my brothers and sisters? Do you think I like seeing each of you try and justify why this time it would be okay to bend the law? I don't care if your plan is to bring down vengeance on some poor soul or make a deal with someone who will tear your world apart. This is my job. Don't let one conversation with a mad man convince you that Falling is worth it.”

“If you keep me here, I'm going to Fall anyway,” Izun laughed. “I might as well Fall while doing something right.”

“If he abandons his mortal, he's going to Fall faster,” Jardon piped up.

“ He is not mortal anymore. He's the enemy,” Cara glared.

“But I've done the research! Mortal's fall when they're alone. That's when they abandon the Light. Dippledop fell because he loved so much. That has to make a difference.”

Cara rolled her eyes.

“Look. I've been out there. I've talked with fallen mortals and devils and sure, some of them are real pieces of work, but there are great people out there! We can't abandon them.”

Cara stood there, her face as hard as flint. 

“I'm going to Fall, Cara, because I can't choose between helping them and staying here. I can't choose between you. If you let me go, I won't have to choose.”

“Would you rather he Falls where his trainee can see, or somewhere far away?” Jardon said.

“Fine.” She opened the door the rest of the way and Izun blinked. “Just get out fast.”

Izun pulled Jardon up and ducked under his arm. He was unsteady on his feet and he supported Jardon’s weight while they limped out from the cell block.

.-.. --- -. . .-.. -.--

They managed to make their way through the main halls of the aether without running into anyone. Izun followed Jardon's directions as they went, ducking around corners and dashing through intersections.

“You know,” Jardon gasped, pointing left down the hallway. They were getting closer to the Hall of Doors, “you’re being pretty helpful for a man willing to sell me out last time we saw each other.”

Izun shifted Jardon’s arm across his shoulders to get a better grip. “I still don’t like you.”

“You don’t?”

Izun took a deep breath and paused in the hallway.

“You know, at some point I have to admit that I don’t know you, but what I do know doesn’t paint a pleasant picture, buddy. You’re an angel who abandoned his post, doesn’t care about Falling at all, and barely seems to understand that your mortal needs you. I have the unfortunate honor of dragging you through the Aether because you’re the only one willing and able to help me.”

“I feel so appreciated.”

Izun dragged him around another corner, into the wide open hall outside of the Hall of Doors. Angels glided across the roof and in and out of large windows above them. He craned his neck to see if any of them looked familiar. 

“Is this it?” 

Jardon nodded. “When we get inside you’ll need to carve the server address into the frame.”

“Won’t that damage it?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged with one shoulder, “It should buff out. Probably. Your comm will let you through to… what server?”

“Hermitcraft.”

Jardon blinked, “Well, it’s no Mindcrack, but good luck once you get on the other side, dude.”

“...alright then.” Izun took a breath and looked up at the impossibly tall windows next to towering walkways as they passed. There was no way they were sneaking out the way he did last time. He ducked his head as they struggled through the main doors.

He froze. Adira stood in the Hall, her pale white wings extended out for younger trainees to admire. She did it. A smile spread across his face so wide his cheeks hurt. His little girl could fly now. 

One of the littlest ones reached out to grab her sword and she deftly turned to keep her scabbard out of reach and swooped to pick them up in one movement.

Armor clanked behind them. Izun turned to see Willa and two Guardians land in the entryway behind them. The guardians stayed by the door while his mentor approached. He adjusted his grip on Jardon and stared them down.

Willa looked him over.

“I told you not to leave,” they sounded heartbroken.

“You did.”

“Izun… I--”

“I’m doing what you taught me to do,” Izun whispered. Jardon gently removed himself from his grasp and inched backwards, towards the rest of the room. “Can you trust me to do that?”

Willa visibly swallowed. Their hand twitched as if to reach out before it rested on the pommel of their unscratched and brilliant sword. “I can’t let you Fall.”

Izun’s eyes widened and he backed up as Willa charged, sword in hand. 

He ducked under the first swipe of the blade, popping back up to elbow them in the stomach. Willa grunted, stepping back and away to take advantage of the blade’s longer reach. 

Dodge, duck, back away. 

“What's the plan here, Willa?”

The blade nicked his arm and he danced back again. Willa stayed silent.

“If the choice is between Falling and dying are you going to choose me dying?”

Will lunged, wings spread out behind them to counter balance. “No! But if you Fall you are as good as dead and you have more reason to Fall than most.”

Izun groaned and tried to rush them to get between them and the blade. 

“Skizzle!” Jardon yelled. “What's the address?”

A glance back cost him a stinging cut on his leg, but he managed to glimpse Jardon by a Door ready to carve something into the frame.

“77!” The address was burned into his memory from the moment Tango typed it out in front of him.

“Aurora, no!” Adira yelled.

A fledgling with a sword darted away from the group towards the fight and Izun's stomach dropped. Adira lunged for her, her new wings propelling her further and faster to grab the child and fly her up towards the windows where the other fledglings perched, watching the chaos below.

“117!” He yelled. Willa used his distraction to hit him across the face with their pommel. 

Izun shoved them away and circled to their back while they were recovered. His jaw smarted.  Willa’s wing shot out and buffeted him as they spun to track him. 

Another lunge.

Izun wasn’t a fighter, he Protected in other ways, but neither was Willa. Their hands were more fitted for healing and helping than wielding a blade.

Izun grabbed their wrist and twisted, ignoring the snarl from his mentor-- his parent-- and grabbed the sword before it could clatter to the ground. Willa spun, using their wings to push him back and away. They beat upon his shoulders as he tried to get his bearings. 

“115!” He yelled out, ducking under Willa’s wing and stumbling back, trying to find some high ground to fight back.

Adira landed in front of him with a thud.

“Get the kids out of here!” she yelled. Her hair was loose and fell behind her. Her wings shone brighter than the sun. Her sword was pointed at his chest, polished and revealing his reflection in the blade.

She was an Angel to the fullest extent of the word.

And he was about to Fall.

Izun ducked under her arm and dashed back towards Jardon’s portal. 

“105!” He called out. He couldn’t fight his girl. He wouldn’t.

A light flashed in the corner of his eye and his sword came up to meet it on instinct. Betrayal, uncertainty, fear, and worry reverberated through the blade. It was so strong it almost brought him to his knees. 

He turned and saw the same feelings reflected in Adira’s eyes. Her nose twitched like she was trying to solve a complicated problem.

The tip of his sword dipped and she pressed her advantage. Izun barely brought up his guard in time. 

“Adira--”

Her eyes sharpened and she became a blur. Izun could barely keep up. She was perfection. She was radiant and resplendent. She was a Protector in every way he could never be.

“You taught me not to Fall!” she yelled. “You taught me to do what’s right! How dare you--”

The reverberation through her blade said everything she could not. It was a deep, confusing wound that echoed the empty place in his own soul.

“I can’t leave him--”

“I need the last number, Skizzle!” Jardon yelled and smart, clever Adira moved faster than he could process, sweeping out his legs and knocking him to the floor. His breath was knocked out of his lungs, but she pressed on.

Willa’s sword clattered against the tile as it fell from his hand.

Her forearm pressed against his throat, cutting off air and stopping him from calling out the last number from the address.

“You promised you’d be here,” she whispered, her voice course and pleading. “You told me you’d be here if I was going to Fall.”

Izun closed his eyes. Everything hurt.

“So, just give me the word and I’ll come with you,” she whispered. “Because you promised.”

Adira was everything Light and perfect. She was a Protector. But she was young. Izun opened his eyes and looked at his little girl. What kind of mentor would he be if he brought her with him?

What kind of father would he be if he intentionally brought her into danger?

His fingers scrambled for Willa’s sword, barely grasping the blade as his vision started to get hazy and black dots floated around the room. The edge bit into his hand and he felt wet, golden blood drip from his palm. He looked into Adira’s eyes

And swiped the blade upward. 

Adira reared back in shock and pain which echoed down the blade and up his arm seven-fold.

“99!” he wheezed.

Golden blood dripped down Adira’s pure white wings from where he struck her. He rolled away, pointing the sword towards her as he scrambled to his feet and backed up. The hilt was slick with his own blood. Adira raised a shaky hand to her own wing. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “And I am so proud of the person you’ve become.”

“Izun--” her voice was so lost and he almost ran back to hold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.

“And I’m sorry,” his voice cracked.

Her expression hardened as she rose to her feet. He took that as his cue to sprint to Jardon and the now swirling blue portal in the Door.

“Now or never!” Jardon yelled next to a different portal and Izun nodded before diving headfirst into his portal, leaving dripping, golden wings behind him.

.- -. --. . .-.. ..--..