Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The void is not cruel. It is not violent or hostile or even cold. Because all of that would imply that the void is anything at all.

The void is nothing. Utter absence.

Which is not to say that there is never anything in the void. Just because something doesn't belong in nothingness, does not mean that it never comes to pass that way. Somehow, someway. Flukes or happenstance or just the way that even nothing is sometimes. The remnants of code can be found in the void, if one knows where to look.

Of course, no one really does know where to look. And it the code is only present for such short periods of time that it may well be impossible to find it in time if one did know where to look. But there is solid proof that it happens, and quite a bit of it.

Most players call them voidwalkers.

A humorous term for the creatures, considering their creation is nothing close to walking through the void. Instead, the simple coalescence of code within the vacuum, within the nothing, until like oil beading in water all of it snaps into one being. A simple ridding of the somethingness that was dirtying up the nothing. The act of creation is not always dramatic. Sometimes it is just… close to nothing.

For a singular moment in the void, a voidwalker—as it is a useful term for them—flails within the absence. Not from any pain or discomfort, not like a normal player falling into the void would. It is a simple instinctive jolt, a search for balance where there is none to be found. The moment always passes quickly, before the voidwalker falls into the complete stillness that will hold them for the years to follow. There is never anything to be found in that moment, because they are in the void.

Well, aside from in the case fluke, happenstance, just the way it is sometimes. Because in the solidification of pure code into being, sometimes there is a glitch. That is the only way to describe it; that right when the code collects into what that can create a being, but just before the being is created, it duplicates.

Poof. Two identical voidwalkers.

Players would call them twins, and it is a useful term too.

So rarely such a thing comes to pass, even in the scope of the rarity of voidwalkers coming to be at all. Aside from that duplicating, nothing else of difference usually happens. The two voidwalkers twitch, they fall still, and they float off in the direction that their short motion sent them for a presuming indefinite. Never to know of the other's creation, never to meet again, likely, for the void is infinite.

This time, during the instinctive movement, two hands barely brush each other. And although voidwalkers are made within the void and can live in it like no other living beings, they have many the same instincts that any other living things do.

To grab on to the one solid thing in the void of nothing.

With a slightly clumsy jerk, the two hands slide together until the fingers link. Identical hand in identical hand, twice over until the voidwalkers are joined together firmly. Face to face and foreheads barely gracing each other. This time, the twin voidwalkers fall immobile while twined together, drifting slow and imperceptible through the nothing. Except for each other.

There is little else odd about this occasion. Voidwalkers spend their "juvenile" years in a state that while not asleep, also can not be called consciousness. And truly, the "juvenile" description can only describe the code at their centers, as voidwalkers come into being physically much the same as they will spend all their lives, at least size wise. The growth is to the code those some odd years of floating, reordering and replicating and steadying.

Creations made purely of code are unstable without steady hands to guide them. It is good that voidwalkers do not require that in the literal sense like servers do, as they simply would spool apart in the void untended. Back to nothing.

Perhaps some do. But no one knows.

The code of the twin voidwalkers grows properly as they glide through the void. Well, aside from the fact that they are linked together. And their code, being identical, lacks the guiding hands to know not to drift between the two beings as meaninglessly as bodies through void.

Truly, it would not be a problem, because voidwalkers are quite luckily made creatures. Eventually, the drifting always comes to an end, when the inertia of that first instinctive flail runs out. A couple years, or a couple dozen. Always when the voidwalkers are fully steadied in code and form. Fully grown, in some sense.

And always in that exact moment—by fluke, happenstance, or just how things are sometimes—that is when the newborn voidwalker comes across one of the voidwalker settlements. Creations of code, gatherings of voidwalkers that drifted together in the same way.

The new voidwalkers are always taken in, taught, and accepted. No player has ever seen such a settlement, though there are plenty of stories. From a visiting voidwalker to servers, maybe, or just purely made up. The stories are about true in all the ways that matter. This is how things always go, for the voidwalkers.

Or it is supposed to be.

But like a glitch in the code, like the random twitch of hands together, or the fickle fizzling of code out of concerted bounds, it does not happen like how it should for the twins. Still adrift, still locked together, still sloppy with code like beings who can barely be held in solid form, the voidwalkers are stopped.

Not naturally. Not by other voidwalkers.

By players.

Beings made of code, beings who exist in the void in creations made purely of the stuff, compared to a player admin they appear almost godlike in coding ability. A single voidwalker can hold together and sustain a server that would otherwise take ten, twenty, maybe even more player admins. And the inventions that they make, the new features that they come up with, it is near magical. It is purely beautiful. The fact that some voidwalkers visit players and choose to do such things is like being blessed by luck itself, really.

So, of course, some players choose to take it for themselves.

The methods are sloppy and crude. None of the perfect coincidences that are down to the very core of voidwalker creation and life. Instead, players create slapdash servers, quick and ugly and half broken, splattered across the void. So many and so obtrusive, that sometimes the almost amniotic cushioning around voidwalkers in their rightful place is broken through. Through brute force alone, players can rip voidwalkers from their home realm.

Two twin voidwalkers hit the hard ground of a server, well before they were ever ready to. Eyes still wide and unseeing, bodies still frozen with immobility, lungs still sustained on young code that does not need anything more yet.

It's a wrong sight. Like two slivers of stars slapped upon the dirty ground.

Just what the players who made the server were looking for.

There is slight confusion among the players, since there has never been any stories about two voidwalkers floating through space together, and this obviously is not a whole voidwalker settlement. The two are obviously not fully formed yet, on the insides, anyway. But any voidwalkers are golden, and two is better than one.

With rough hands, the players tear the voidwalkers apart.

This part truly is fluke, happenstance, and just how things are sometimes. But the growing code, ever bouncing back and forth between the two connected voidwalkers, was almost completely inside only one of them at a moment.

As their fingers unlock, as they are pushed into mobility, as their eyes blink and turn aflicker, both of the voidwalkers open their mouths and shriek in pain. One too empty, one overfilled. Unidentical for the first time. And the unready lungs tasting oxygen.

Two beings that only come into creation through luck alone—unlucky products.

Chapter Text

" —p-p-p-p-p-p-"

Xisuma puffs air out of his lips as he flicks a screen with one hand, typing with the other. His soft muttering had originally started out as vocalizing his actions, something that the supervisors originally demanded of him, even with his difficulties in talking so much. It's kind of close to second nature at this point, though like it often does, the words have devolved into rhythmic noises. They help him keep time and focus though, so he supposes they serve the same purpose.

Regardless, he's forced to squint slightly at the double screen before him. Leaning forwards on his criss-crossed legs, as though being closer will help him pick out the problems better. Xisuma has unfortunately been far more bodily than wordy in his time.

Ex is the opposite in that way. He's good with words. Too good, maybe. He can confuse Xisuma easy, and spit things at their supervisors until they turn red in the face. Xisuma can only ever make people sigh with his words, so his brother is very impressive in that way.

The supervisors do not like when Ex does things in the coding rooms that makes them go red. Not at all. Xisuma on the other hand, this is the only place where the supervisors look pleased with him. Very, very pleased, often. Especially now that they have started leaving him alone so that he doesn't need to talk while coding.

A prodigy, they call him. Everything someone could want with a voidwalker.

Truly, Xisuma doesn't know what he's doing so special. Or any differently than Ex. They started out being taught literally together, on the same consoles. And he knows that Ex is very smart, maybe even more than him.

But Ex has been screamed and punished out of the coding rooms every time for the past couple months. Now he's the one starting to turn red in the face.

The slight frown on Xisuma's face smooths away as his spine straightens tightly. His fingers fly over the keyboard, only pausing to backtrack because his mind is soaring so much faster than his fingers can move. He drops his second hand down to join it, deciding to give up on scrolling. That means that he can't see the code he's actively typing, but that's only on the screen anyway. In Xisuma's mind, it's so clear he swear that it's before his eyes.

As the last few lines draw out, he smiles widely. A feeling of satisfaction, the same with solving a difficult puzzle box. It's one of his favorites.

With only a single scan of his work, Xisuma sends the work off to his supervisors. Then he slouches down in his seat, stretching his wrists. The slight pain makes him wince. Though that only unleashes a round of coughing. He rubs his eyes while he's at it, fighting the slight blur.

Twelve hours, and his list of active projects has slipped away. There's a chance that it will be sent back if the supervisors aren't pleased, but he doesn't think any of it will. They haven't needed to a single time in a couple weeks.

When they sent back Ex's work, more often than not, Xisuma would fix it for him. Now he doesn't have that work to do, but there's a thick file full of practice he's supposed to fill his extra time with. He really doesn't want to anymore, the thrill of the success fading into exhaustion. He wants the day to be over, to go join Ex in their room. But he knows that's not what he's supposed to do…

After a small moment of hesitation, he sighs and brings up the first practice file. His throat aches, but he only spares it one rub before getting started.

Safeguards on transferring foreign currency into server specific credits. Mind numbing.

But Xisuma throws himself into it with as much focus as he can muster. A few minutes is all it takes for his attention to be caught up on the rows and rows of code, feeling almost like a physical hand has grabbed his brain. But a stubborn bleariness brings his fist to his eyes every now and then. Most servers only allow transfers in banks if the admins themselves are not the only ones allowed to work with the foreign currencies. But with individual wallets, there's the most room for frauding…

The screens before Xisuma go black, leaving him blinking in confusion at the after images. He could probably finish the last page from memory, but—

"Voidw—Xisuma. Are you coming out for the night or not? I've got shit to do."

Dropping his hands, Xisuma turns to the now open door behind him. Predictably, a supervisor is standing in it. Predictable because that only they can open the locks. The emergency power ports to the room are flicked off under the man's hand. Something quite a few of the supervisors have taken to doing, so they don't have to physically shake Xisuma out of his focus. Though it often erases a page of his work, much to his displeasure.

But unless something very important has come up, or Xisuma has screwed up badly—impossible—then this likely means the day is done.

"Is Ex done?" Xisuma asks, standing quickly. He sways a little from the quick change, brain fizzing at the edges.

"Yeah, yeah, I got your angsty brother myself, much to his displeasure. Move it or lose it," The supervisor says gruffly.

Obeying, Xisuma walks over to and then past him into the hallway. The door clunks shut behind them, sealing audibly. Though who would go to such effort to code after hours, other than Xisuma, he has no idea. And he would almost always rather see Ex anyway.

Xisuma presses his fingers to his lips, humming against them. Beside him, the supervisor falls into step. They're only a few inches taller than Xisuma, but quite a lot bulkier. Probably not a full time coder, though even those tend to be less thin than Xisuma. Maybe it's a voidwalker thing.

"What did you work on at the end?" The supervisor asks, a weird squint as he looks him over.

Ah, the sounds maybe. Xisuma drops his hand quickly and silences his sounds. Though that makes opening his lips for words harder. He forces it with clenched fists.

"Money transferring safeguards. The file said that it's impossible to fully safeguard individual wallets, but I thought that left out a few key considerations. First of all, the size of the server and the amount of admins—"

"Yeah, yeah, save it for Sera," The supervisor cuts him off, disinterest overriding his close attention.

Not odd. The things Xisuma says either earns grand interest and excitement or utter boredom. Though he can never tell which thing he says will cause which.

He can't remember which supervisor is Sera. He's bad at names.

Outside now, Xisuma squints hard in the orange setting sun. Even through the watering of his eyes, he works hard to look around. The buildings are all short and gray, boxy, but the land beyond is nothing short of heart flutter-y. It fills him with a feeling, one he can't name.

That's a funny thing to say, because it's the same thing he felt when he decided on his own name. Or when it came to him, anyway.

A few buildings away, he catches sight of the familiar gray rectangle where he sleeps. And even better, standing on the step up with his arms crossed is a person identical to himself, and thus impossible to not remember (which is lucky). Long white hair, past his elbows, though mussed up worse than his own. Skin equally as white, though smudged in some places with soot, and purple specks across his cheeks, nose, and shoulders. There's a small gap visible in his bared teeth, eyes glaring hard.

Those are the one differences between them two. Where Xisuma's are a shining pale purple, the same as their freckles, Ex's are an off red, pupils always a tad smaller.

"Ex!" Xisuma calls, raising a hand and waving. "Hello!"

His twin turns to him, dropping his arms and eyebrows losing their tension. Though he only scans Xisuma once, before turning all of his attention onto the supervisor at his side.

"Like a damn puppy. Ironic, considering…" The supervisor mutters.

It doesn't seem to really be aimed at Xisuma, at least in the sense that he doesn't think he's supposed to respond, so he bounds ahead. Without pause, he wraps Ex's arm in a hug, squeezing it tight. Maybe too tight, but that's how Xisuma likes to be embraced. And Ex doesn't complain.

"Considering what?" Ex practically growls instead.

The supervisor looks at Ex from head to foot, nose wrinkling terribly. Before he dismisses: "Nothing. Didn't I tell you to stay inside? I leave the fucking door open long enough to fetch this one…"

"Can we go to bed?" Xisuma asks.

"Yeah, yeah, hurry up with it," The supervisor says.

Physically, Xisuma pulls Ex in with him. Down the short hall, into the small room. While Ex doesn't jump to listen, he does allow Xisuma to pull him. They're in there well before the supervisor. Almost physically, Ex puts himself between the door and Xisuma, face stony and unmoving. Looking around him, Xisuma watches with absent perplexion as the supervisor finally walks over, sends them a look, and the seals the door behind them.

"Fucking Jared…" Ex murmurs.

"Who's that?" Xisuma asks.

"The sup—Never mind." Ex shakes his head. "What do you even think about all day?"

"Coding."

"Of course. That adds up…"

"Also sunsets," Xisuma adds.

That seems to stop up Ex, but only for a fraction of a second. Then he shakes his head and physically pushes Xisuma until he sits on the bed. Without much fight, he does so, swinging his feet back and forth.

"You like sunsets too?" Xisuma asks.

"No, they're boring," Ex says.

Xisuma smiles. "I don't believe you."

"That's because you're a loser who is bad at knowing anything that isn't nerdy and boring," Ex says.

Not pausing in his leg kicking, Xisuma redirects his feet to Ex's shins. Bop, bop, bop. After his face grows tenser for a few moments, Ex rolls his eyes dramatically and plops down on the bed beside him. The thin mattress barely bounces, but Ex groans loud enough for it. Which of course breaks into coughs after a moment.

Rhythmically, Xisuma pats Ex's back, right below the ribs. It's quite a nice beat. He hums along, totally soothingly. Right up until Ex flops down and rolls away.

"Okay?" Xisuma asks.

"Fine," Ex grumbles. "You?"

"I'm not coughing right now, silly," Xisuma says.

"I meant generally today, but sure," Ex says. Probably rolling his eyes again.

"Oh, what did you do today?" Xisuma asks.

It's obvious what Xisuma did today, because he almost always does coding. But Ex is often shunted between different tasks now. Trying to find what he's good at. The supervisors say they're trying to find something he's not an absolute disaster at, but that might be a joke. It's not true either, Ex is good at lots of things. Just not boring or nerdy things.

"Redstone again," Ex mumbles, face down in the mattress.

"Oh, what was it? Farms?"

"Cantaloupes or something."

Xisuma giggles. "Melons. Interesting. Were the farms stacked?"

"If you mean a bunch of layers of dirt and redstone, then yes."

"Hm. Explain the problem to me, I can give you some ideas."

Ex sits up on the bed, looking at him with something.

"Why do you assume I didn't fix it?"

"Well, you don't seem very happy, is all."

"Do you get happy when you solve a problem for these assholes?"

"Yes," Xisuma answers honestly, blinking.

Ex cracks a smile while shaking his head, before coughing into his fist.

"Fine, it was something-something with the pistons not firing when the stuff is grown."

"Oh, interesting. First thing I would check is—"

As he sets off into a ramble of all the solutions he can think of, Ex listens with a soft set to his brow. It's not exactly rapt attention, but he does listen to the entire explanation and list of theories. It's obvious that he can follow along with most of it well enough, because it's not like Ex is bad at redstone. But he also doesn't have the same spark for it that Xisuma does. As natural as a joint popping back into place.

Just as he's starting to wrap up, Ex leans his head to the side.

"How are you better than me at redstone too? You don't even spend as much time on it as me, always coding," Ex says.

"The two topics are closely related, knowing one helps with the other," Xisuma says. "You probably know all the different people skills. Who did you say that guy was? Sera?"

"Better with people," Ex snorts. "No one else would claim such a thing, you know. I just remember my enemies."

Xisuma laughs. "You joke too much."

"Joke…" Ex trails off.

The slight sway of his head lets a chunk of his hair escape from behind his ear. A whole handful of locks, it's sliced as though a blade cut clean through it. Now hanging around chin length.

"What happened?" Xisuma asks, nearly gasping as he grabs the much shorter locks of hair.

Ex lightly pulls away, until the hair is out of his hand. But he can't dodge Xisuma's frown.

"Got caught in a fucking piston," Ex says, rubbing his head. Then he looks at Xisuma's falling face and rolls his eyes. "You know, I might actually be worse at redstone than coding."

"That's dangerous, Ex!" Xisuma says.

When it seems like Ex is hardly effected, shrugging in everything, Xisuma continues.

"All loose clothing and hanging hair or accessories must be removed and-slash-or tied back when working on moving redstone components," Xisuma recites.

"Not my fault they had me crawling through the thing. I could barely see," Ex complains.

It's hard to argue with that, though Xisuma stays frowning. Ex has not leaned closer again, so Xisuma refrains from touching the hair. But the choppy pieces keep his attention sharply. It could have damaged his scalp, cracked against his head, hurt his brain—

"You look more upset about it than me now," Ex says, smiling.

"It's serious," Xisuma says.

"What? I look ugly without the luscious locks?"

"That's not funny."

"No, now I'm seriously thinking about my ugly hair… And how I can get it uglier, you think short hair frames our face wrong?"

Ex stands as he talks, walking into the small bathroom. The sink is made of metal and can reflect a bit. If looked at from the right angle. Instead of joining him, Xisuma stays sitting on the bed, his own arms crossed. He doesn't like the thoughts at all. And he shakes his head to show it. And then again. And again. The sway feels nice, almost.

"I've decided. I want it all off," Ex says.

"Get serious and come out here," Xisuma says. "We'll get scolded for yelling."

"Scolded," Ex seems to mutter. But he does come out, so it must be true. "I do want it cut. Short."

"Why?" Xisuma asks, frowning.

"It's safer, isn't it? You said so yourself."

"Yes, but, well…"

"Well?" Ex asks. He crosses his arms. The exact same as Xisuma now.

"Well, then we won't look the same," Xisuma says.

Whatever the words truly mean, Xisuma doesn't totally know. But Ex seems to take something from them. Eyes sharp, lips ascant.

"I want it cut. Help me or don't," Ex says sternly, turning away once more.

"How would we even cut it? We don't have scissors," Xisuma says.

"Oh, Xy. You never plan for the inevitable."

Ex walks back over to the bed as he talks. But instead of getting on it, he shoves his upper body right beneath. It's quite stupid looking. Xisuma lets the front of his foot swing and bump against the side of his ribs. Without even looking, Ex grabs the foot and yanks roughly. Xisuma slides a few inches down the bed, a shocked noise leaving him.

Whether he hears snickering below the bed, he deftly ignores it. For his sour brother's good.

"Watch yourself. I'm armed." That confounding statement is paired by Ex crawling back out. And him raising his hand.

In it is a blade.

"Ex! That's—" Xisuma stutters in shock, slapping a hand over his mouth.

"Preparation," Ex says wryly.

"That is not preparation. For what even? Cutting steak?!" Xisuma asks, voice squeaking.

"Oh, Xisuma." Ex rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about it. But I need it for a haircut, don't I?"

"Well, maybe we should ask…" Xisuma says nervously.

Ex scoffs. "Yeah, no. Help or don't."

Nerves draw Xisuma's fingers together, tugging on the tips. He glances at the door, like someone will burst through and… Something. Xisuma's not quite sure, but he has the distinct impression that it will be bad. That they're not supposed to be doing this.

But then Ex raises the jagged, obviously makeshift blade to his hair and Xisuma jumps forwards.

"Alright, alright, let me help."

With an amused smile, Ex hands over the knife. Though that's a generous description. From up close, it really does seem to be a broken off piece of metal, though a very sharpened one. Xisuma takes the time to wrap some cloth around it like a handle before shooing Ex into the bathroom, preparing to chop the hair off.

"How short?" Xisuma asks.

"Suppose just even it out," Ex says, gesturing at the sliced bit.

A frown pulls at Xisuma's lips and he hesitates for a few long moments. But eventually he does reach up and grab a lock of hair, beside the already cut bit. He presses the blade to it, until the strands slice clean through. Several feet of long, white strands hang from his fingers. It somehow seems more dead already, all limp and pure white and sad.

Awkwardly, he drops them down onto the floor. The strands collect around their feet, making Xisuma's toes curl up slightly.

"It's strange," Xisuma says.

"I'm already strange, so what does it matter?" Ex says.

"You're not strange, you're just silly," Xisuma says, shaking his head.

"Oh yeah? Mr. Normal?"

"Fine, then we're both strange. That's what you wanted me to say? So you can tease me?"

"It's not teasing if you said it…"

"You should be nicer to people who are… armed," Xisuma clumsily repeats what Ex said earlier.

"Are you threatening me, dearest Xisuma?" Ex asks. He almost sounds proud.

"No! Mojang—I meant I would give you an ugly haircut," Xisuma squeaks, incredulous.

Ex laughs, loud and affected. It's to the point that Xisuma has to stop cutting, and Ex has to lean forwards for a coughing fit. No sympathy to be had, Xisuma only scoffs and watches him, rubbing his own nose. Ridiculous…

"That's crueler than stabbing in some ways, you know," Ex rasps.

"Oh, shut up. Do you want it done or not? I'm tired," Xisuma blusters.

Swiftly, but still with everyone motion being careful, Xisuma cuts all the hair to length. The end result is slightly crooked and jagged, hanging around Ex's jaw unevenly. Nerves flood back to Xisuma as he hands the blade back, watching Ex's attempted examination closely.

"It's different," Xisuma says.

"Good," Ex says, smiling with his barely crooked teeth. The same ones Xisuma has. "Does it look badass?"

"It looks… rough," Xisuma says.

"Perfect," Ex says.

"Like you got your head stuck in a piston," Xisuma continues, nodding.

Exhaling in shock, Ex sputters for a moment before he steps out of all the hair to storm from the room. Though he grabs Xisuma's arm and pulls him along still. After a moment of hesitation, Ex ends up placing the blade on the frame above the door. A different hiding place? Why?

This is an answer that Xisuma can not find, and he doubts Ex will enlighten him. Probably just scoff and tell him not to worry. Which is easier said than done.

Regardless, he simply smothers a cough of his own and lays down on the bed. With a near mischievous look, Ex literally leaps onto the bed after him, making Xisuma yelp and hold on. The mattress might be thin and barely soft, layered on a plank of wood, but Ex somehow manages to send the thing shaking like milk.

"Stop fooling around, we should have been sleeping already," Xisuma complains.

"Relax, we technically don't need sleep. We won't die or anything," Ex says.

"You say that, and then tomorrow you're going to fall asleep underneath some minecart tracks or something equally foolish," Xisuma huffs.

"Now those are some good ideas. Who knew you had those in there," Ex says, wrapping an arm around Xisuma's neck and rubbing the top of his head roughly.

"Stop it, you derp," Xisuma says. But he breaks out into laughter despite his best attempts to be serious and shove Ex off.

Like a tangle of sharp elbowed spaghetti, the pair of them settle on the bed. Aside from a couple extra kicks to the shin from Ex, cause he's a jerk who swears Xisuma kicked him first. Xisuma only kicked him second, thank you very much. They are both too tired to keep the war up too much, so they call a draw. For now.

Ankles linked together and loosely hugging, the twins close their eyes for the night. Or at least Xisuma does, exhaustion draping over him in the way that it always does when he finally starts to rest. It seems like he can keep going and going, except when he stops. But, sleepily, he peeks his eyes open for a moment before he fully drifts off.

Ex is watching him, eyes still open.

"What's…?" Xisuma murmurs.

Ex shifts slightly, bringing himself closer to Xisuma. It also brings the jagged edges of his newly short hair closer, tickling his cheek. Xisuma's nose wrinkles as he readjusts at the discomfort.

Seemingly seeing it, Ex hugs him real close, tucking Xisuma's head under his chin. Though his lips are pressed to the crown of his head when he finally speaks.

"I have a plan… Bigger than a little knife and a haircut," Ex whispers. "But I need your help, Xy."

The words are kind of scary. They set Xisuma's stomach in an unsteady way that he can't quite understand. Like he knows they mean something bad, but he can't remember what.

But, it's his brother. His twin.

"Of course, Ex," Xisuma whispers back immediately.

The arms around him stay tight, like they're afraid that he'll float away while they sleep.

Chapter Text

Nervously, Xisuma chews on the tip of his thumb as he scrolls through his files of coding exercises. They draw out and out, endless knowledge before him. It should be exciting. He's pretty confident about his ability to replicate most of them accurately, but he should double check and read the adjoining material. That's what he's supposed to be doing, since he's done with fixing the tic stuttering glitch.

For once, Xisuma can't quite get himself to do the work he's supposed to. His mind is too full.

Ex said that he wants Xisuma to break them out of the server.

"Is this some sort of joke of your's? It's not a funny one, Ex," Xisuma says, eyes blinking wide at what he just heard.

Really, he doesn't understand a lot of Ex's jokes. Or the things he says in general. His brother has a talent for words and knowledge of another type. But sometimes the things hes says have such sharp edges that Xisuma doesn't want to understand. Like they would probably hurt instead of be funny.

This is one of those times. His heart skips faster.

"It's not a fucking joke. X, listen." Ex grabs Xisuma by his upper arms, looking into his face. He looks dead serious too. "We need to do this. I would do this for us if I could, but I can't. You need to be the one to do it."

Xisuma shakes his head quickly. This is worse than a joke.

"No, no, we can't—"

"You can. I listen when they talk. I remember everything important that they say, even back at the beginning when they didn't realize we were smart enough for them to bother being quiet." Ex grins wickedly. "Voidwalkers can do coding without any sort of comms or panels or tech. It's natural for us. Well, for you, I'm— You, you just have to do this one."

"I don't know if that's true or even how I would go about it!" Xisuma says. "But even if I could—"

"You can."

"Even if I can, the, the supervisors—"

"That's why we have to do this, Xy. Things will get worse eventually, once they're done with us. You're getting better at coding every day, which means they won't leave us around here doing busy work and learning for much longer," Ex explains urgently.

"Things–things aren't bad," Xisuma protests, tongue feeling too loose in his throat, like it doesn't want to make words. He forces it to, because it's bad when he can't.

Ex breathes out roughly. "Just because they're marginally better doesn't mean that they're good. Or that we're safe."

That implies that they're not safe. That things used to be worse. Which…

Is true?

He cann't figure out why he thinks that. Can't remember. But this is one of those things that Ex seems to know that Xisuma doesn't.

It certainly hurts.

"If we do this, we'll get in trouble," Xisuma says quietly.

He's not totally sure why the idea scares him so deeply. It's logical that they will be corrected if they do something wrong. That's how people learn to do what's right. And even Xisuma had many times where he needed a guiding hand in his work while learning.

And a guiding hand for his behavior.

That's nothing to be afraid of, because it's good. But his breathing quickens at the idea of it for some reason. Heavy in the back of his mind, itching in his throat. He coughs weakly, looking down.

Ex grabs his chin and pulls it back up.

"Xisuma, I need you to do this. I can't do it. And things are still bad for me. I can't do the shit that they want me to, and they get upset. They hurt me sometimes still."

"They—" Xisuma's words die in his mouth. He doesn't know what to say. What to do.

What to even think. His brain is white and buzzing strangely.

Xisuma's eyes are wide as he struggles over it all. Skipping, pinching, hitting—

"Listen…" Ex says, voice softening. He grabs both of Xisuma's hands and squeezes them. They always feel right together, slotted perfectly. "You'll learn to code without the technology. You're the smartest person I've ever met, the smartest person ever, maybe. You can do it. Then, once you figure it out, you'll get us out of here.

We'll go somewhere that's just us two. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want. Sleep in. Spend time in the sun. Spend all day together. You can still do your coding if you want, and I'll make sure we're safe. That's what you want too, right?"

The pictures that the words bring up, the feelings… Xisuma swallows heavily at them. They're nice. He… he does want that.

"I really don't know how," Xisuma whispers quietly.

"But you can, I know you can! It's natural for you, just focus on the feeling of coding. You said you can feel it, that solidness in your grasp, yeah? That's it!" Ex says excitedly.

It's a good look, him like that. Ex with his wide smile, sharp and almost violent. Xisuma likes the look, the glittering in his often dull and glaring eyes. The thrill.

If it is possible for voidwalkers to code without technology, some sort of side effect of their biology, then it is logical that Xisuma would be able to do it. With practice. And ideally guidance. And likely before Ex could…

It will have to be Xisuma, if they're really going to do this.

Ex squeezes his hands and he feels that sense of safety and rightness that he so rarely does.

Eyes closed, Xisuma nods.

"I'll try."

"Thank you, Xy! Thank you." Ex draws him into his arms, a rough hug. A good one.

Xisuma likes those too.

But it was easier for him to face all that when Ex was there, instead of now in the coding room. By himself and full up with the ideas of what he might just do. What they are going to do. Ex never backs down from a set thing, and Xisuma doesn't like the thought of it either. Better to press go and see how the code plays out.

But this is a dangerous one. And he truly doesn't know what to do, how to start practicing. Maybe it would be easier to steal a comm to use… Though they're tracked, he'd get caught. Stealing is not allowed.

No way. He shakes his head. Ex is right, it has to be without technology.

But how?

Xisuma holds his hands out before him, looking over them. Pale and thin and long. The tips and sides have the faintest of almost lavender-y colored scars, small cuts or wear and tear from when his hands were new to doing things. Even holding tools or trying to use keyboards was painful at first. It took practice and… correction? Logically he thinks so, but he can't remember. Probably he should be able to, since it was only around a couple years ago.

Scrunching his hands into fists, he tries to focus on the feeling. The feeling when he's typing the code out, mind moving even faster than his hands can. They twitch like thinking about some coding sometimes makes them do. Wanting to reach out for this voidwalker coding thing? Ex said it's supposed to be natural.

"Coding go," Xisuma whispers. "Please?"

Nothing happens. He sighs so hard that he coughs.

His ears are ringing as he calms his chest. Like little bells or something. It's just on the edge of painful, though ignoreable when he shakes his head.

That's what Xisuma is busy doing when the door slides open behind him. He jumps and spins around, clutching his hands together guiltily. Like somehow they'll see what he was doing with them. The not there code sticking to them.

"What are up to?" The supervisor asks, raising her eyebrow.

Oh no!

"Um… Thinking about scaling code to server size?" Xisuma says, blinking.

"That currency shit still?"

"Oh, well, it's applicable to most concepts actually—"

"Enough of that. We need you to look at something else."

Xisuma glances at the screen to make sure that he hasn't missed an assignment, but it's only the studying still open. The supervisors rolls her eyes and stomps over, grabbing his arm. She pulls him up, almost roughly.

"Redstone, not code. Come on, genius."

That word doesn't feel as nice coming from her as it does Ex. Like her teeth make it dirty, despite being duller than his brother's.

They trail out of the building and through the streets, gravel harsh below their feet. Or at least harsh below Xisuma's. The supervisor seems unaffected as she marches forwards. Maybe because she has shoes. But she lets him go with a soft shove as they pass a small group.

"Wait here," She tells him.

He tugs on the end of his shirt, fiddling with it as he stills. The woman quickly dips inside of a building, leaving the door open. There's food, a couple other people. A cafeteria of sorts.

The conversation from within seems to be about people he doesn't know. Or remember, at least.

That seems to be a repeated theme for him, doesn't? It's like everyone but Ex flits right out of his head. He doesn't know why. He's good at memorization. Theoretically, he should be good at putting names to faces. But it's like they just… fizzle out. White static. If he tried, could he remember? Or would he fail?

A thought like that makes him shiver.

Fittingly, behind a building across the way, there's another collection of them. Fuzzy faces.

It's a group of about half a dozen people. Probably supervisors, but honestly Xisuma just calls them all that because he doesn't know what else they would be. The roles don't change much if they're supervisors or not, except what skills they teach him or how often he spends with them. And they obviously see each other as equals, since they greet and talk with each other easily. Xisuma wonders how it can be so easy for mouths to open and spit words out. How they don't need to look down their noses for those people.

The slightest of breeze blows over not just snippets of words, but also a smell. Or maybe a conglomerate of smells. Somehow, the smell is what distracts him over what they're saying.

The food.

It's something like meat but more, he thinks. He can almost feel it in his mouth, making him swallow. An organ in his abdomen literally shifts. He jumps at it, pressing a hand to his front. How weird.

Voidwalkers don't need to eat. He never has tried any.

Still, he wonders if he can. He has a mouth and a stomach, can swallow and such. There's saliva in his mouth. What's the purpose of saliva? Swallowing? Or more?

"Fucking finally!"

Xisuma jolts and turns his head towards the group. Something one of them said has put an energy through them all. Good news? Goods news is good.

"Are you sure? The boss has been insistent about it being perfect so it can get top dollar."

"It's a better coder than an admin with ten years experience already. Just the word 'voidwalker' will be enough to be set for life."

Oh. Are they talking about him?

His stomach is still simmering. Maybe not good news...

"Is the boss trying to snatch a deal with the other one too?"

There's laughter.

"As if anyone would believe it's a real voidwalker for more than five minutes with a console."

More laughter. Xisuma's brow furrows.

"Even a dud voidwalker will be worth something. They'll offload him once the other one is gone."

The organ drops right out of his abdomen to his toes, eyes pinning wide. Offload? What does that mean? It surely can't mean what he thinks it does. Because. Because…

They just can't!

Xisuma only realizes that his breathing has sped up when he starts coughing. It's a bending over and grabbing his ribs sort of episode, the type that always winds him for a few minutes. Him or Ex. They both have the coughing fits, both have the twinging, scarred fingertips that grasp at each other. The edges of the scar tissue seems to line up.

They can't split them up. That's impossible. It's impossible. As much as trying to patch Herobrine off of a server or, or—He doesn't know! Something impossible!

It's too much, the prospect of it. He just can't.

His hand tangles up in his hair below his ear, yanking roughly. The force drags his head to the side a bit, a spark of pain matching it. With the final tug, a few strands of hair pluck free. Pure white, standing out starkly in the dead grass.

He flinches as a hand closes around his elbow. The touch hurts, curdles below his skin. But when he stiffly pulls away, the supervisor squeezes harder.

"Hurry it up, I'm supposed to be off in an hour."

The fix to the farm should take fourty minutes for him. It takes an hour and twenty. He keeps imagining his hair in pistons when he grabs it and tugs, hands finding the strands insistently. He keeps imaging Ex's head trapped in one too, no one to tell him to follow the safety protocols. He wouldn't if Xisuma didn't tell him to. And he doesn't have the talent for this. They'd still make him try, until he fails.

Ex is pacing in their room when Xisuma's left there. He stops in his tracks when he steps in, dropping his arms down like he's preparing to do something. But the door locks with them inside and no one else. Then Ex's shoulders droop.

"They had us done early. What did you do today?" Ex asks. Frozen, Xisuma can't answer or move. He does try, but it just doesn't happen. Ex's face furrows. "X? What's wrong?"

When he still doesn't move, Ex walks over to him. He grabs both of his upper arms. Again, a flinch squirms out of him.

Ex let's go slowly, hands palm out. Half of his harsh expression is hidden under his chopped up hair.

"What's wrong, Xisuma? Did someone do something?" Ex asks. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No," Xisuma says, shaking his head. "It's, it's—"

"What? X, you've got to give me a name before I can know who to kill."

"What? No, it's not—not that." Xisuma huffs in shock by the crude words. It half snaps him out of it.

"Then what happened?" Ex asks.

Slowly, he puts his hands in Xisuma's arms again. This time, it doesn't feel so much like jabbing needles. Just Ex's hands. Xisuma leans his weight against his brother, blinking hard.

"I still don't know how to do the coding without a console." Xisuma grabs a piece of his hair, tugging.

Ex slowly detangles the fingers, squeezing them. There's a sharp frown on his face, but it doesn't seem pointed. Not at Xisuma anyway.

"You don't have to be stressing about it like this. It'll be okay, you can take you time—"

"No, I can't. It needs done now," Xisuma says firmly, despite his wobbling lips.

"Slow your roll. You were against this idea yesterday and now you're team do it right this second? Relax, Xy."

"We can't relax, they said— We just need to do it, like, now!"

Ex doesn't rebut, instead just scanning his face. Then he pulls him over to the bed, giving him a shove so that he sits down. Then he sits down beside him, criss crossed legs.

"Okay, then we'll do it now."

"I don't know how!" Xisuma cries. "You said it's natural, but I really don't know what that means. It's not like I sneeze up code!"

"You kind of sneeze up code," Ex says.

"Ex," Xisuma says firmly.

"Okay, okay no sneezing around," Ex says. "Look, you can do it. You're just thinking about it wrong. You've only ever coded on a console, so of course you can't conceptualize the feeling of doing it without. So focus on the end goal, how to get there. Something easy, that you could do in a sneeze."

Once more, Ex scoops up his hands and holds them in his own. The pressure is firm but yielding. Not quite distracting.

"Um… Increasing light levels," Xisuma says.

"Perfect," Ex says. "Focus on the lines of code to get you there."

Xisuma closes his eyes, picturing them in his head. He can obviously think of them all, write them all out. Easy steps that one has to follow.

His fingers twitch as though hitting keys. Ex squishes them, stopping him.

"Not with a keyboard. The feeling."

"I feel a keyboard," Xisuma murmurs.

Ex pinches his side, making him jerk back with a soft yelp, before giggling at the slight ticklish feeling. With a pointed look, Ex retakes his hands and holds them tighter.

"Try again."

Closing his eyes even harder, Xisuma tries again. He's not sure what Ex means by feeling. Yesterday he had said that it is a palpable sensation, the hard edge in his brain where he's almost got the solution to the problem and he just has to grab it.

Of course he knows the solution to the light levels. But it's just reciting. There's no feeling to it. Not like when a difficult solution is just out of reach.

So what then? Maybe he needs to… do the light levels from scratch? A completely new way, not what he was taught. Coding without a comm is a new method.

What is it that allows changes to enter the world at the whims of players? Well, code. But specifically, what?

The fabric of servers, what makes them up. Code controls it, forms it. Like voidwalkers.

Like Xisuma. Just code.

He wiggles his fingers a little and feels Ex's hands. Feels his skin, made of code. Surfaced, coalesced. Crafted into being by code itself, and Xisuma is code itself. Is the hands that shape it. Not the computer, the hands.

He can see it there, almost. The edges of it, feel it in the front of his brain. He just needs to, needs to—

Xisuma's eyes snap open and he jerks his hands out of Ex's. Up and reaching forwards. It's there before him. There between.

The matter in the air seems to split in a ray of purple light. Ex jerks back, looking at Xisuma with shock and confusion. But Xisuma's hand is already curling around the fragile, moving strings. They don't have letters or numbers, not when looking at them straight on. But Ex was right, he can feel them. The code in them. The code of them.

He breathes in, shoulders curving back and a lightness filling him. He pulls on the string until—

Ex tentatively touches it. As though the strings holding Xisuma up snap, he falls forwards and the purple code bleeds out. He breathes in roughly, before coughing hard. Winded and jittering.

"Was that…?" Ex asks, tentative. So unlike himself.

Slowly, Xisuma looks up at his brother. Blinks at him with stuttering eyelids. The crash of exhaustion and elation running through him is resplendent.

"Code," Xisuma says, smiling shaky and wide.