Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1x1x1x1 sat in their room with a heavy scowl, tail lashing back and forth audibly. Every click of its exoskeleton against rotting wood walls kept them from going entirely mad, the Killer’s cabin otherwise full of chatter. 

They sat. And thought. Alone of their own accord, yet the chill still hollowed her bones out.

He had always been ignored- set aside. 

She had been created only to have her creator stare down at her in disgust. 

Nothing more than an amalgamation of undesirable traits- the culmination of what made Telamon truly inhuman- ripped out and despised and locked away, never meant to see the world from which it had been born into.

He had yearned to live, to see the light dance across ocean waves. To see his creator, so mighty, fall to his blade.

1x broke free from one prison only to be thrust into a new one. Every action was taken with the knowledge that everyone assumed the worst. 

Breaking free had given her scorn. Had birthed attempts to once more restrain her to the 3rd dimension, to trap and eradicate any sign of Telamon's imperfection. The mere word made them sneer, face scrunching. Imperfection. In an attempt to cast out their worst aspects, Telamon had only highlighted it. Had shown the world just how poisonous their hatred was.

Hatred was all he was made for. All he was supposed to be. 

She leaned into it as much as she could after learning that. Hatred was fuel, was what pushed her to become the best. It used to be approval.

No matter what people tried to convince themselves of, hatred wasn't all he could feel. Telamon had disregarded more than their own hatred after all; they disregarded any form of weakness. 

And 1x was the embodiment of it.

Every. Single. Weakness. 

He hated it. Hated Telamon. Hated Shedletsky.

1x was meant to hate. It was all she was meant to be. She quickly learned how to thrive on it. Hatred flowed through their veins like the poison that infected everyone who came too close, always burning hot and the force behind every move. It led them, the guiding hand that had never been offered by who she could have maybe viewed as a father. 

Ha. As if. 1x laughed at the mere notion that Telamon would ever have stepped up to actually try and nurture, especially to nurture what they had attempted to end. 

1x would not be bested. He trained endlessly to surpass his counterpart, everything that Telamon had deemed ‘perfect’. Shedletsky.

The name itself could fuel their hatred for days. She hated him. She hated how Shedletsky was better than her. 

Their wings fluttered a little, acrid green feathers crumpled, a few fluttering down across the wooden floor. A voice rose, cold as she always was, telling her that there was a reason Telamon had chosen him to carry on through, instead of them. 

But no. She would surpass Shedletsky. She had to. She hadn’t trained for days on end, week by week, just to get beaten by that moron who thought eating chicken mid-chase was a good move. 

They wouldn’t rest until they beat Their expectations. 

And, despite the unfortunate circumstances, he was sure he’d be able to do it. 

The Spectre had perfectly crafted a world where they’d be able to surpass him, after all. 

Every match they felt themselves improve, getting better at catching those useless worms who ran about like headless chickens. 

Round. After. Round.

He started to emerge victorious more often than not. Crimson clashed with the green of their blades, a relentless stain that proved they were improving. They were starting to surpass the one who was meant to be better than them. They were better.

A creak emerged from the cabin, old structure barely holding together- likely due to the Spectre's influence. Alas, the Spectre did nothing to stop the drafts that embedded a chill everywhere.

…Why did they have to be here to be better?

As she shuffled on the bed, her wings- often draped across shoulders, limp in an attempt to look like anything but- flared beneath her, splaying out over the mattress as she examined them. 

Shedletsky’s own wings were always neatly preened, always shimmering almost gold with the uppermost feathers being the brightest. Perfection and nothing less- until his dying breath. Their own wings were black, dark with a gradient of tarnished copper- He was unsure as to whether the green was because their feathers truly were copper, or if it was just the sword’s influence on him.

They let out a heavy sigh.

A round would be starting soon, and they’d be able to prove themselves worthy. 

…of what, though?

A moment passed- just a moment, nothing of consequence as they tried to figure out what they had meant. 

Too soon came the ringing of the grandfather clock, it was a sound that could be heard from all the way across the map. There was no gut feeling of being transported to the map, so she knew she hadn't been selected as the killer. It snapped her out of her thoughts and she scowled, turning over to try sleep. Sleep was usually calm, unless the spectre was feeling extra cruel. It wouldn't be the first time.

~~~

A round began and 1x was the killer, finally. Their blade had Shedletsky’s name written on it and she ached to have it pierce through flesh and bone, to have Shedletsky’s body limp and lifeless so she could throw it aside; like had been done to her. 

They ran, a moment taken to gouge out their eye to reveal those who were hidden to them. The pain was temporary, as was the blindness as their eye regenerated. 

Among the mass of yellow highlights, he spotted the silhouette of the one who he was after. 

Round after round. It always went after him first. Soon the highlights started to fade and they made their move before they could lose track of Shedletsky.

She focused and, with as much force as she could muster, tossed her swords through the air. They made contact with their target, and she grinned. As soon as she knew that Shedletsky was entangled in her sword’s chains, she slashed yet again- everything rippled, the fabric of reality splintering as shockwaves tore through air and drove right into its mark. 

Adrenaline rushed through veins alongside scalding hatred, the two barely distinguishable as she chased the high of besting her counterpart.

Her chase continued, shoving past a terrified survivor to chase after her target.

Shedletsky ran. Of course he ran, in this realm he was weak. Weaker than he’d ever been. 

1x revelled in the feeling, wings twitching with the urge to boost her movement, to help her catch her prey and rip it into pieces, though she made sure they remained still.

As soon as she was close enough she slashed, tips of her blades only barely catching perfectly preened wings. Soon enough they’d be bloodied and mangled. Feathers started to litter the ground, a trail of proof that she was superior. 

Bit by bit, she caught up. 

Shedletsky refused to kneel.

“Say, 1x1x1x1, fancy some chicken?” He taunted, laughing annoyingly as he ducked to the side- just barely avoiding the poison-tipped blades. How it hated his face. The way he could still grin as if nothing was changed, as if he would emerge victorious.

The same way it had been before it rose to meet its title. 

He hated Shedletsky. He relished in how, upon being met with their blade, Shedletsky’s grin crumpled. If only for a moment before it shakily reappeared. 

Every slice was recompense, each drop of blood an offering.

Telamon was gone, dead- an immortal who had spliced itself in two, who had forgone their godhood for something as disgusting as human affection.

That was okay though. Because now that Telamon had fallen, 1x1x1x1 would rise to the occasion and take the power that had been tauntingly dangled above their head for too long. 

One final strike. Glee ran freely through his veins as he slashed once more, the thought of crimson painting once grey walls enough drive to spur them forwards.

And then it played out.

A scene, almost. Scripted. 1x moved as if she was a mere puppet on strings, movement jerky and some unholy mix of muscle memory and robotic programming. 

Shedletsky had his sword out, they had theirs as well. 

The ‘spar’ was short, one blade eventually diving into Shedletsky’s guts. As he fell to the floor 1x retrieved it and stomped on his spine, the crunch of bone under her boot rennervating through her bones. And then regained control.

It was a victory. 

Why didn’t it feel like one?

It had won. It had defeated Shedletsky, as it had countless times before.

But the notion was dull, the Spectre had taken the vital moment needed- had stripped away the chance she had to prove she was better than Shedletsky. 

Venom simmered down, adrenaline slowing to a sluggish pulse. It left 1x only barely holding on, staring at the desecrated corpse of all that was ‘good’ about Telamon. The opposite of a mirror, what she could have been. What she was meant to be. 

What she’d never be.

Time ticked down, it fled in the same way the survivors did as he stood there. Staring. 

Blood leaked from the corpse, horribly realistic despite how they knew Shedletsky would be up and running by the next round.

A quiet voice urged him to continue, to paint his blades red- to prove his worth.

But he ignored it. Just once, just as he succumbed to his own weakness.

It knew it wasn’t truly good enough to defeat Shedletsky. Even when made weaker by the spectre, he was still able to survive the occasional match. Even when made weaker, Shedletsky was still better than it. 

Telamon had poured their best traits into Shedletsky, leaving 1x1x1x1 with only the dregs left behind. While Shedletsky was the prized, golden champion, 1x had been the scraps and waste left behind. 

They would never be good enough.

It took a seat, eyes glancing at the bloodstained grass below. It contrasted with the greenery, looking almost as if morning dew had decided to turn red instead of its usual clear glitter- the puddle surrounding the corpse glinting with few golden specks.

Their own blood was dark. It was unnatural. Filthy. Black ooze, thick and undeniably inhuman.

What would Telamon have bled? Red, like their favoured creation? Black, like the one they ignored?

Or maybe they wouldn't bleed at all, something like that seemed too beneath them. 

Maybe there was a reason why Telamon had made 1x to be weak. Why telamon had injected them with only their most negative traits. Hatred, Weakness. Any weakness was a part of 1x and failed to appear in Shedletsky.

Maybe that was why Shedletsky was just better.

Why they had been left behind.

…Why Telamon had never tried.

And, just as they were about to crumble, they felt that indescribable ripple of teleportation run through them.

The round had ended, with only one dead.

Chapter Text

1x1x1x1 appeared in the killer’s cabin. A familiar rush of colours surrounded her - red, blue, pink, childish voices screamed and cheered, making her falter in her attempt to self-isolate.

He froze at the swath of small creatures, and temporarily contemplated staying in the main cabin. Their constant chatter would be decent at drowning out their own thoughts. A moment too long saw the shark like children surrounding them; smelling fear (or, more honestly, seeking entertainment.)

There was only so much they could tolerate. Tea parties, drakobloxxer rants, and various tantrums. Their own minions only served to distract the kids for an hour or so, any longer and the children would grow restless. 

1x let a scowl form on their face, making themselves appear more unapproachable than usual. A few faces looked at him. Each pair of eyes imposed upon him, expectations unknown. It was disgusting. He was used to knowing just what people expected of him. Used to playing the part to perfection. Beyond perfection. 

How could they surpass expectations they didn't even know about?

They turned, tail tapping on the ground, and quickly made their way to their room. 

The door slammed shut and locked, claws leaving a few scratches on the handle. Nothing that would mess with its functionality. 

1x let out a heavy sigh, gritting his teeth as he went back over to his bed. As per usual, he thudded against the thin covers and contemplated ways to kill Shedletsky. 

Though… for some reason thinking of that wasn’t enough to lift her spirits. Her wings twitched, finally allowed to move and splaying out over the bed. 

A sort of hollowness emptied her, as if a sword had driven through her stomach and her organs left to spill out. 

Ever since that godawful round had ended it had been stuck lingering on its capabilities. On how it was, and how Shedletsky was. 

They didn’t feel like they had been weakened- in fact, the Spectre had given them an extra blade to desecrate their enemies with. And any abilities she had timers for were already dictated by her regeneration speed. 

But Shedletsky? He had been practically handicapped- sword swings only every thirty or so seconds despite him being the champion of the heights. The same sprinting speed as every other survivor- even that one who seemed to live off of soda and burgers- despite how 1x knew Shedletsky could travel much faster than that. 

1x thought back to the frightened pest and compared it to his mortal enemy. 

The Spectre seems to allow them to eat snacks endlessly. Maybe it was just for the fun of it? The pathetic thing did constantly seem scared out of their wits. Perhaps it was a way to keep them from getting completely desecrated. And Shedletsky had been given items, too. 

Chicken. Only two per round, unlike the limitless soda. 

Shedletsky was made so completely weak, and 1x was still not strong enough to overcome him. She was still too pathetic. Telamon had created her to be weak and nothing more. 

And… the spectre seemed to think so, too. The scared pest was blessed with a few boons, due to being so patheticly weak without. She had been given an extra sword, and constant ammunition for summoning minions. And yet she was still not good enough. 

She couldn’t overcome what had been put upon her. 

It made them angry. Hateful. They scowled, expression worn into their features more often than not- muscle memory from days where he was 

And yet, instead of the usual drive that would blaze from the emotion, all 1x felt was cold. As cold as the looks Telamon sent her when she tried, as cold as the reactions were when she didn't. 

As cold as the nights she spent hidden away from them.

It let out a growl, frustration spiking as it rolled onto its side to try and get some sleep. Nothing mattered anyways, they were stuck forever and the Spectre was intent on making things hard for everybody. 

As she laid in bed, thoughts of Shedletsky slowly dripping away, her stomach rumbled. The hollow feeling in his stomach was a reminder to eat- something he didn't have much difficulty in ignoring, in all honesty. 

Yet again they shifted, wings fluffing up and wrapping around them in an attempt to stave off the cold that hung in the air- it was always chilly during the last few matches of the day, often reminding them of the days spent training in snowy weather. 

It was a good thing the SFOTH arena was always warm; humid, even. Whenever it got too cold outside they could just head over to the arena to train and wait out the night. 

Alone, of course. 

Always alone. 

1x was used to being alone, not that it bothered them. 

It turned over yet again, burying the laughter of children by shoving his head under a pillow. Sickening. 

And then there came a knock at the door. The in quick succession- sharp and rapt as if the person behind it was ready to burst in regardless of whatever she responded with. 

Yes, she knew this would happen. It had already happened many times before, no matter how often she tried to kick some sense into the unwelcome visitor. 

As if on que for some dramatic TV show (not that she particularly watched them) a blur of purple and black burst into their room. Practically dripping in annoyance and unbridled hatred- 1x perked up at the sight of him; had Azure just come back from a round?

In their state of brooding, they took a moment longer than usual to analyse the intruder. Ah, yes, of course he had. He was littered in slashes (and not so small stab wounds), dripping oddly purple ooze onto his perfectly clean floors. 

“You're cleaning that up.” was the first thing 1x spat, wings snapping back to their place around her shoulders. 

Azure rolled his eyes, tossing the first aid kit at 1x before making himself at home on their bed. “Didn't ask. Just… help.” A pause followed his statement as he stared at her. Then, he shuffled a little closer, probing into her space. “TwoTime managed to land multiple backstabs and it hurts.” 

The vulnerability in his tone made her scowl, gripping onto the medkit as if it owed her something. So soft, and for what? From what 1x could tell, Azure had been killed by someone he trusted. How could he stand to be so soft around someone like her?

She bit her tongue, holding back a statement that wouldn't have gone over well. It was fine antagonising Shedletsky, dragging up their past like a creature from the depths of the ocean, she was meant to do that. It was what was expected of her. 

But in the cabin? It wasn't the same. They didn't have the same expectations, the same title to hold up. He didn't know what the expectations were, really, the idea made 1x want to pick apart their minds until he found what they wanted. 

Nobody really… thought much of him. What was one half baked hacker in a room full of other hackers? 

Every action was made without a preexisting idea of what they were meant to be, without being scrutinised for what they were representative of- only what they were. And even then, some people seemed to be just as horrible as she was. 

If only barely. 

…and mostly one person. That purple glitching skeleton was incredibly annoying to deal with, their hatred for that hacker second only for Shedletsky. 

1x grumbled under his breath, insulting Azure’s ugly hat as he started stitching wounds and stopping blood flow. Could they even die from blood loss in this realm? It didn't matter, 1x felt the urge to hate something and the blood staining his sheets was a good enough reason to be angry. 

Without being angry, they only felt empty. Ever since that scene had played out. When they realized that they would never surpass Shedletsky no matter how hard they tried. 

He ignored Azure's complaints about the steadily rougher treatment, claws gripping tighter on needle and thread. They knew he could deal with the pain, a needle was way less painful than a sword. 

They would always be worse than Shedletsky because they were everything Shedletsky wasn't. 

Because they were made of imperfections. 

After a long silence (and far too many purple-stained sheets) Azure stretched, feeling out the scope of his mobility with the new stitches. “You can be alright when you try to.” Black tendrils flexed a little, soon following his movements. 

A grin was sent their way, far too wide and far too casual. Far too human. “Okay, up you get.”

1x scoffed, wings tensing before she remembered to let them fall limp. She didn't want anyone to think she was in any way related to Shedletsky- and there were few winged robloxians still alive. “What do you want?” 

Cocking a brow, Azure simply looped an arm around 1x’s and tried to pull them out of bed. He was surprisingly strong for a person who looked to be mostly ooze, or maybe decaying plant matter..?

The contact gave her pause, oddly warm from a being who didn't look like he'd be. And, of course, she was caught off guard by such casual contact, twitching as she tried to stop herself from fighting Azure.

“You haven't eaten all day. And don't tell me you have- I asked John, he's been worried too.” 

Warmth pooled in their chest at Azure's words, a moment passing as they tried to figure out why. There was no reason for Azure to act like he cared. 

The warmth was foreign, too foreign for 1x to accept. It was nothing like the burn of hatred, nothing like the high thrill from splattering guts across grass and stone. 

“...” It took too long to form a response, and soon enough Azure was pulling it out of the dim room towards the main area. “Urgh. I hate you.”

“You hate everything. So, basically, you love me.” 

They stared blankly at the purple and black pest that decided to try worm itself into their personal time. Azure was incredibly blunt about feelings, and not subtle in the slightest. They scowled and pushed Azure away in an attempt to dampen the feelings they hadn’t cared for in decades. That hadn't been cared for at all, really, a flurry of warmth so different to the usual burn that led them. 

“No.” 1x hissed, finally prying the hand off.

“...sure.” Azure continued walking, one of his tentacle things tugging 1x along instead as he pulled out a gardening book from… somewhere. The Spectre probably gave it to him- there was a nightshade garden around the back of the cabin. 1x could see it pretty easily from her window, Azure spent a lot of time there.

Not that she spent a lot of time watching Azure work. 

She let out a low groan, fighting the urge to retreat back into her room. Maybe it'd be okay if she got a little snack or something like that. It had been a while since it last had something edible. Apparently nutritious food was important. 

Shedletsky always seemed to eat fried chicken. He wondered whether the talentless parasite ate anything else. Whether he needed to even eat. That seemed like a weakness that only 1x was privy to out of the two of them…

1x was finally dragged to the kitchen, where he grabbed a plate of what looked edible. 

Actually, most of it looked edible. If a little burnt. 

From the way the red child was giddy and digging in with even more vigour than usual, he was sure that it had helped make the meal. Pink and blue were arguing as per usual- 1x subconsciously tried to shimmy out of their sight; they always seemed to gravitate towards him to help with their trivial little problems.

They held the plate with uncertainty, feeling the urge to scurry off to some hidden corner of the house to eat. The idea of eating in front of everyone made their skin crawl. 

More than usual, that is. 

After an awkward amount of time standing in place, Azure seemed to notice something was a little off and came right back by her side like an annoying, overeager puppy. 

Words fell on deaf ears, 1x didn't really care about what he had to say and smacked away the hand that tried to pat her shoulder. 

Annoyance started to rise, churning her stomach in a similar way hatred did. 

Hatred. It could work with hatred. Being hateful was something they innately were, something it was meant to be. 

Alongside being weak. 

If they weren't weak, then why did the thought of people watching them make them feel so small?

A plate cracked and shattered as it hit the ground, the notion that it was him who had dropped it coming in too slow, thoughts fogging up.

It was being seen. Azure was staring, everyone in the cabin was staring. Eyes boring into them, scrutinising and reworking expectations in ways they couldn’t perceive. 

He stumbled as he was led outside, only staying upright from the tendrils that instinctively wrapped around him. 

It was fragile. 

She hardly noticed her surroundings change, from a stuffy wooden cabin to the much more soothing cool air outside. 

Unobservant. 

A hand tried again to pat her shoulder, nerves setting aflame as she flinched away from the contact. 

Useless. 

“1x?” Azure's voice sounded warbled, like light filtering in through the treetops. They'd probably never see the real sun again, they weren't good enough to be let free of their eternal punishment. 

Punishment for being created. 

For being imperfect. 

For being-

“One-by-four, I swear to the spawn, breathe!”

The use of such an odd name for it snapped it back into the 3d, suddenly aware of all the things that had previously been floating about in the 4th. 

1x inhaled, lungs having been screaming silently for air that it had apparently stopped taking in. A burn in their chest that only slightly lessened. 

After holding the oxygen for a few moments they exhaled and noticed something. 

Their wings. 

Those stupid godforsaken wings had decided to move of their own accord, curled around his head and shoulders like a protective shield against- against what, the one person who acted like a person to him? The one other being who didn't seem to care about their constant aggression?

She bemoaned her fate silently as gentle hands coaxed the wings back to where they were beforehand. 

The feeling of someone being so gentle with them made her want to hurl. It was disgusting.

“Are you alright, uh, 1x?” Azure sat down next to her (when had she even gotten to the floor?) and cautiously put a hand on her arm. 

So warm. 

So foreign.

She was used to burning- always burning. The sweltering heat of the SFOTH arena, in the peak of battle until she reigned supreme. The burn of hatred as he saw Shedletsky soar to the top of Telamon's priorities while he remained fighting for a scrap of attention. The burn as swords, daggers, bullets pierced it in feeble attempts to buy a few seconds. 

…Something that was just warm was unnatural. Unknown. A feeling it didn't deserve to have. 

“Fuck off.” 

Azure pulled his hand back and 1x hardly registered moving until he did it- grabbing that too gentle hand tight in its claws, wings flaring and trying to keep hold of the warmth. 

Azure paused. And smiled. Softly, it was a warm thing that seeped into 1x's being in a more bone-deep way than anything hatred could muster. “Didn't you just tell me to fuck off?”

1x scowled, face flooding with warmth. “Urgh- shut up. You're annoying.” 

“Hmph.” Azure followed those orders for a grand total of three seconds before gently taking hold of and examining a wing, his eyes drifting over the dark feathers. “...wings, huh?” 

Said wings twitched before they pulled back, settling over their shoulders just as had been done for years beforehand. 

“...” 

“They're just as pretty as the rest of you.”

Silence left the garden feeling empty as Azure started to tend to his nightshades- allowing 1x to think. Thinking was all she had security in. 

She'd always been volatile. It was hard not to be when you were hardly raised, and all that you were taught was that you were wrong. It was a short fuse, a time bomb waiting to go off and Shedletsky was meant to be the one to defuse it before that happened. 

Even with Telamon gone, the looming cloud of being so inherently wrong clung to it like cobwebs, coating every layer of their life. 

But with Azure..? With any of the other killers? They treated him normally. They treated her like they did each other. 

Maybe not the way Telamon should have. And certainly not the way he did treat her. 

John Doe came out of the cabin, smile a bit smaller than it would be during rounds yet still pinned to his face. One corrupted arm dragged behind him, the other one carrying a plate of the meal that had been dropped- plus some… dehydrated limes? They couldn't help but eye the dried fruit.

“Hey. You… dropped your plate earlier. I didn't want you to go hungry, though.” A moment of hesitation passed before he lightly urged 1x to try some of the food, sitting near them as they (eventually) grabbed the lime slices. 

They felt so warm when John Doe smiled softly- not the usual mockery of a classic face, but a genuine smile. 

All because 1x ate something. 

1x felt like maybe, maybe this was what a family should have been like. What one should have felt like. Telamon was frigid, cold and apathetic while Shedletsky was only fuel to the flame of their hatred and had never tried to be anything more than that. 

It should have been so easy to lock everyone out. To put on a front, to be what he was supposed to be. 

But 1x was every trait that Telamon despised. 

It seemed like being weak to feelings was one of them. 

1x's wings fluttered yet again, and neither Azure or Doe batted an eye. Nobody compared their feathers to Shedletsky's. 

Nobody compared her to Shedletsky. 

She smiled, just a little.