Chapter Text
The first thing they registered upon awakening was the emptiness of their grand world. A void. A part of them. They could feel it. It felt warm. Smelled warm. Tasted warm.
A warm world they’d been created in.
The second thing they registered was their name. SpokeIsHere. Their identity. Their existence. Everything that made them recognisable. Everything that made them them, more than the pattern of their skin, more than the features of their face, more than the shirt they wore, formed as a part of their skin, a blessing from the admins to don. They shut their eyes, relaxing into the embrace of the void, not that it made much of a difference whether their eyes were open or closed.
The third thing they became aware of was their knowledge. Things learned from past SMPs, without faces and without names, devoid of memories or emotion, they remembered how the world worked, how it felt to walk, what the overworld looked like, the mobs of the world, the items they needed to gather to survive.
Finally, the last thing they became aware of was the boredom. The utter mind numbing boredom that came with knowing there was more out there, outside of the void they were formed in, they were born in, but being unable to indulge in it.
It wasn’t long until they grew fed up with the silence with only the ever present ringing of a hollow star absorbing all that exists around it as company. With nothing better to do, they began talking. They talked of their knowledge, of the seconds passing by, the stories they got so lost in it felt they were living them, the hallucinations kicking in soon after.
They made imaginary friends, lost themself in their own voice, their only miserable company in an empty world, and counted.
They counted up until 2332843 seconds, about 27 days, until they noticed any sort of difference.
First, it started with an odd heaviness, like their body was being shifted downwards accelerating towards something rather than drifting. They blinked their eyes open, unsure of when they'd closed them or how long they'd been closed.
They were met with a colour so vibrant there was no way it could be imagined, a green edging on teal that fogged their vision and stole their breath. Atmosphere. They weren’t drifting anymore. They were falling and it seemed they were soon going to hit the ground.
They shut their eyes closed, bracing themselves for impact.
Only to splatter harmlessly onto the surface of wherever they’d landed. Right. No vessel. They were still a purely voidal being. They let out a sigh, opening their eyes once more only to shut them at the onslaught of colour. From turquoise to reds to yellows, roses and dandelions littered all about. It was overwhelming, going from absolute null, no sensory input whatsoever, to feeling a slight breeze, smelling the burning scent of what they imagined to be soulsand, and seeing so many shades of grey they couldn’t believe such an array existed.
The weirdest of all was the ground underneath. It felt so… corporal. It was odd, not simply phasing through it like they had the void. It made them hyperaware of their own skin. It was uncomfortable. Overwhelming.
It was exactly what they wanted.
They jumped up giddly, finally able to not only feel but hear their voice too, not just the garbled purring of a star’s corpse, a black hole, now they could hear their high pitched voice echo all the sounds they’d been repeating in the void.
Looking around they found themself in what was either a flower garden or a graveyard.
“Holy Void, how did I end up here? I coulda sworn I’d been voided for ages! Would be voided for ages! This is absolutely unbelievable!” They monologued just because they could, just to hear their voice with their own ears. They laughed, high and giddy, springing up, only to droop back down just slightly, unused to needing to take on any form with legs. Unused to gravity pulling them down. They ran a little lopsided, slowly regaining their balance as they dashed through their new terrain giddly, moving to a flower field nearby and peering over a dandelion with far too much excitement.
“Listen it’s been a while since I've seen anything so colourful, I think I can gawk just a little, even if it’s just a flower,” they grumbled, defending themself to a nonexistent audience, then grinned wide once more at the fact they could form words at all.
They got back up, dusted themself off, and began walking, wondering if they’d see any more and simply basking in the things they could see already. Each bit of terrain they loaded. The longer they walked, the more they began noticing what appeared to be crystals coming up out of the ground. Nothing they recognised. Too green to be amethyst. Too white to be emerald. Some sort of quartz variation?
Whatever it was, they didn’t have the body nor the tools to mine it, so they simply continued along, walking aimlessly instead of drifting, no destination in mind, no idea what they were doing.
It didn’t matter anyway, this was more entertainment than they had had in so long. They walked until they lost track of what direction they’d been walking in.
Eventually they came across a bridge made of deepslate. It had them giddy all over again. If the clearly man-made graveyard they’d landed in wasn’t enough then this just sealed the deal, players had to be around!
They explored every nook and block of the broken bridge, memorising the architecture by heart, if only to pass the time (and half hoping someone would come around they could talk to) before they continued their trek.
Eventually, fatigue caught up to them and they collapsed some hours (days?) later. When they next woke up, they were still face-first on the ground. Rolling over, they decided to simply stare at the bedrock sky for some time, wondering if it was a little odd that in all their knowledge they didn’t seem aware of a biome like this one in the nether. They figured it must’ve been some add-on placed by one of the admins. An easter egg perhaps.
They’re not sure how long they stared at the sky, but they noticed one of the dust particles in the sky moving weird, like it was following a pattern.
They stared at it, transfixed, as it grew larger and larger, until they began making out the shape of tendrils and-
Wait. A happy ghast? They shot back up, reaching their arms as far into the air as they could go and stretching their limbs until they were a five block tall pillar in hopes of being noticed. A player! They’d finally spotted a player! They giggled, all too gleeful.
Things were finally getting interesting!
Finally, the happy ghast got low enough they could see brief flashes of the being sitting on it and subconsciously changed their appearance to match that of the other players, until they had an almost identical body shape. Everything else seemed covered by clothes and a veil.
“HELLO! Who are you? How are you? I’m Spoke, how come you’re invisible? Is this biome an add-on? How do we get out? What are you doing? I’m walking around, but before this I was in the void, conscious for maybe a month? I don’t know how long I was asleep!” They rambled in a rush.
They were interrupted only by a firm and noticeably off, “get on.” They blinked in surprise.
“Are you gonna kill me if I do?” They asked, a little suspicious.
“I will not kill you,” the hooded figure promised, totally not ominously. Well, sounded legit enough to the fae-
Fae? Voidling. They were a voidling. What brought fae into this?
They brushed the thought aside, hopping onto the ghast next to the hooded figure.
“How long have you been here? What do you do? Is there a way to the overworld? Are there more players? Did you make the bridge?” They continued on, uncaring for the fact they weren’t getting any answers.
“Shut up.”
Their mouth snapped shut for only a second and they blinked owlishly.
“Oh- heh- it’s hard to, y’know. Not talk. I spent quite a couple of days talking non-stop, in fact I’ve spent my entire time on this server talking non-stop so!” They laughed obnoxiously loud. They didn’t stop talking after. The masked person didn’t say another word to them. Finally after what felt like a couple hours later of just drifting on a ghast, (still infinitely more entertaining than drifting in the void) and feeling like they were talking to a brick wall, they began seeing something in the distance. A structure of some sort. A castle maybe, had it been slightly bigger.
They stared, wide-eyed, as the mysterious fella approached the place, landing at the top of it and hopping off, demanding they do the same.
A little skittishly, they slipped off the ghast, almost falling face-first onto the warm blackstone floor.
They got themself together quickly, stumbling up and gazing around excitedly, “ooh, is this a tour?”
They didn’t get a response but they didn’t need one, happy to prattle on and about everything and nothing, not bothering to catalogue where they were going.
Curiously, they noted multiple rooms with several shelves upon shelves of thick, beaten down books and the many many chests and brewing stands scattered about, but for a lot of the walk it was mainly carpeted floors and long hallways they traversed.
Finally, after enough winding staircases and looming archways, they arrived at a room with a structure that definitely shouldn't exist nor be possible in the nether.
“You better not be sending me through that.” They huffed, “it’s too empty and dark… and boring in the end.” They gave a theatrical shudder. They were also completely ignored. Party pooper.
Their guide led them closer until they found themself peering through the murky star-littered waters of something trying to camouflage as a void when it wore the appearance of infinity. It had them a little mesmerised, for as large and vast as the void was, it was also pretty much empty. The mirage they found themself looking through was so overwhelmingly filled it threatened to overwhelm them. They swallowed roughly, turning back to their guard-
Only to find the person behind them. Before they could get a word out, they were pushed through, falling and floating. For a solid panicked second they thought they were back in a void but this time with such a kaleidoscope of colours it threatened to make them hurl-
And then they landed on their feet, dizzy and nauseous enough to instantly stumble on their ass a moment later.
They looked around, noting the… structure they were trapped in. Well, that wasn’t normal. Was the end already overtaken? Were they being captured? Would they find a spare body strewn around somewhere? They hoped so.
The walls around them were all made of obsidian and even if they were made of something one could break with their fist Spoke wouldn’t have been able to anyway. Not without a body of their own.
They noticed a dispenser and decided to see what was inside, finding a bunch of harming potions in it. Thoughtlessly moving to grasp one, they managed to solidify to hold it for only a second or two before it phased right through their imitation of a hand, splashing them in the process and making them hiss.
“Ow ow- fu-! Ow.” They groaned, stumbling back, “dolt, what’d you think would happen?” They grumbled to themself, moving to the other side of the room, where the second dispenser was. They didn’t bother looking at its contents, they’d learned their lesson. No holding anything until they had a proper vessel.
They didn’t know how long they were stuck in that box, five minutes? Twenty? More? Less? (Time was such a funny thing) until they heard someone going down.
A wither hybrid appeared from behind the peep hole, wearing a suit with a red tie with charcoal hair barely reaching his neck. He looked old, Spoke couldn’t help but think, before realising that was likely rude. It might have just been the beard though.
The moment the newcomer locked eyes with them, the guy’s eyes went hilariously wide before forming into a frown so deep it aged him a couple years more.
He let out a sigh that seemed to come from his very soul.
“Spoke,” he intoned, enough bitterness in his voice it had Spoke recoil. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now. For good.”
Spoke blinked at him rapidly. “Eh- uh. Huh?”
The guy, MinuteTech, Spoke read from the nametag, outright snarled at him.
“You disappear for months after destroying this place and when’s the next time I hear about you? When I find out that, apparently, you’d died, which - does Mapicc know about this? And now you’re back, and you’re making me wonder if I should just set one of your lies straight myself.” Spoke opened their mouth, almost forming the question on the tip of their tongue, thought better of it, and shut their jaw once more, staring dumbly at the man in front of them.
At their silence, his gaze softened to an emotion Spoke didn’t have the words to describe. Something akin to heartache with just a little too much bitterness. “I’ve had enough, Spoke. I really have.”
Spoke’s eyes swivelled between Minute and the space behind him.
“Uhm,” they licked their lips, feeling very confused. “Sorry? Do- we’ve uh- we’ve… met before?”
Minute stared at him like he was speaking a different language, than in a voice that was decidedly almost an octave lower, Minute replied a quiet, “excuse me?”
Spoke flinched. Oh, the guy was angrier now, okay.
“I’m uh- I’m just wondering how you know me or have known me for months because I was in the- y’know, the void. In the nether. For about a month now. I’ve only been on this SMP a month and only been on the surface for like. A few hours? Maybe like… two days at most. I don’t- I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
Minute’s face seemed to contort, forming several different emotions each more complicated than the last before landing on something just shy of murderous. “You expect me to believe that? Really? That’s low even for you.”
“You know what, Spoke. I don’t even know why I still try with you, why I hope against all odds you’d give me a reason to still-“ he cut himself off. Spoke felt like they should actually be feeling something about this. They couldn’t quite manage anymore than mild puzzlement.
“Are… uhm. So- are you going to kill me? Because that’d be really depressing, you know with the whole me just joining this server like. I had to spend 27 days (probably more!) in the void first! You know how boring that was? Actually- maybe, if you live in the end. I think. Is this your base? I don’t know, I just. Uhm. I was in the nether right? In the place below bedrock, or-? I don’t know there was just a bedrock ceiling, someone told me to get on a ghast after I passed out and woke up again and they lead me to an end portal and pushed me in and-“
They took a sharp breath, having forgotten they needed air for quite a bit of that ramble, “yeah, now you’re talking to me about me like you’ve known me for- I dunno, years- and I’m starting to think I’m still in the void to be honest, because I saw a lot of things that didn’t exist, which would explain the whole random biome and how there’s an end portal in the nether actually, but also you’re just so like… detailed. Like, wow, you seem so animated and a lot less like,” he gestured vaguely, “wispy, y’know? Eh, you might not actually. Also I can actually hold things for like a second or two which- really weird, so I’m probably not hallucinating or my hallucinations have gotten better but like- does it matter? Uh, what was I talking about?”
Minute just stared at him dumbly. The same wide-eyed look they’d been giving him earlier if they were to guess.
“Okay… what the fuck?” He asked.
They laughed a little nervously, “uhm- what?”
Minute just grunted an annoyed sound from the back of his throat, one Spoke was fairly certain wasn’t even meant to be voiced, before unlatching the mechanism of their encasement, letting them out. They chirped gleefully, a flare of the same humming of that black hole flaring before quieting just as fast with their startlement. Huh.
Minute seemed a little startled too but recovered quicker than them. He sighed, looking like he regretted letting them out already, “I can’t believe I’m actually believing you. I hate you, Spoke. I really fucking hate you.”
He sounded defeated, like they’d somehow made him give up or something. They didn’t get it. Minute was weird. Maybe he was crazy. That was probably it. A crazy old man trapped in the end.
Would Spoke end up like that? Were they already like that? Eh, didn’t matter. They followed him up the steps to the open air of the end curiously, noting it was unfortunately just as boring as they remembered, aside from the base Minute inhabited. Made? He hadn’t answered.
They followed him around, did so silently for a few moments, before starting up their running commentary once more, “how long have you been here, by the way? What do you do in your free time? Did you find or build this place? Also who are you? How do you know me? Are you sure you know me? I like the build by the way, does it wrap entirely around the main end islands?-“
“Can you- slow down? You haven’t given me a chance to answer any of that,” Minute deadpanned, clearly irritated.
Spoke stared at him like they hadn’t considered someone answering them was even an option.
“Oh- uh. Sorry. Yeah. I forgot you could do that.”
They were silent for a moment and so was Minute.
“Well?” Minute asked.
Spoke blinked, realising Minute probably wanted them to repeat themself, “uh. Who are you?” That seemed like a safe question to start off with.
That same constipated look crossed his features before he sighed, “right. I’ll just- My name is MinuteTech,” oh, should they be calling him by his full user- “but most people call me Minute,” oh, good, “we met-… nevermind, basically I just guard the entrance to the end.”
Spoke blinked. “From what?”
“From players.” Minute elaborated.
They hummed. “Are they evil?”
Minute frowned, “not- not all of them. A lot of my job, a lot of the reason I built this place really, was to make sure the good ones get to travel safely to get shulkers and the like.”
Spoke lit up, “ohh, you’re a protector of the end! That’s cool,” they grinned, a little too wide judging by the unnerved expression on Minute’s face. How did Minute decide which ones were good and which weren’t? They didn’t want to know.
They toned it down.
It was quiet for a few moments more, but they noticed Minute staring at them for an uncomfortably prolonged amount of time.
Minute only seemed to grow more disturbed. “Stop that.” He demanded.
They shuffled nervously, “uhm. Stop what?”
“You’re- you’re acting like a mimic. You’re copying me. It’s-“ Minute broke off. Spoke actually looked at themself, noting they looked almost identical to Minute now. They changed their form into something smaller, cuter. Or tried to at least. It seemed to fall apart, growing fuzzy at the edges and looking almost droopy. They needed to get a body at some point.
“Sorry,” they said, trying to figure out why they suddenly felt such strong dread, “I- is this better?” They had the strange urge to flee. Why were they so afraid of being considered odd? They didn’t voice this question, tried not to acknowledge it.
They continued before Minute could respond, “say… uh, do you have an- uhm. Do you have a body lying around? Could be a player, zombie- anything really.”
Minute stopped entirely to level him with a glare that was borderline hostile, “Spoke, why in the overworld would I have a dead body just randomly lying around?”
Spoke glanced away, fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie wrapped around their waist, “right- sorry. I just figured- eh. Uh.”
It seemed for the first time in that conversation they’d been rendered speechless. Minute seemed to enjoy the silence more than anything they rambled about. They decided it’d be best if they held their tongue.
They trailed after Minute for some time after that, watching him fiddle with contraptions they remembered the vague outlines of, playing with wiring and redstone and working pistons for what looked like either very elaborate defense mechanisms or just plain traps.
For the most part it just seemed to be a lot of maintenance work, though he did build a couple new additions. It was boring Spoke out of their mind but every time they thought of something to say the same panicked fear came back, making them swallow their words.
Eventually it was Minute that broke the silence. “If you’re just going to trail me around you could at least be useful and help me with these wirings,” he said, trying to make it sound like a suggestion. It felt like Spoke owed it to him to do so however.
They wrung their hands together, panic crawling up their throat once more.
“I’d love to, really, like- I’m being genuine but I- uh- I’m sorry, I can’t hold things like this,” they stumbled out nervously, tense enough they looked ready to bolt.
Minute actually looked at them properly for the first time in their short time knowing each other (re-knowing?), noting the way they curled into themself, their form shifting and swirling in some incomprehensible pattern, never seeming able to still. The panicked look in their eyes, the way they were trying to seem like less of a threat.
He hated the concern welling up in his chest at the sight, hated how much it affected him seeing Spoke so stressed. Spoke had done worse, made him believe the other was dead, had him grieving for months only to show up and pretend he didn’t remember a thing.
Minute hated most that he was actually believing that lie of Spoke’s, the look in the void being’s eyes so genuine in its confusion.
He groaned, then regretted the fact that he did with the way Spoke seemed to wilt further, “why can’t you hold things?” He asked, attempting to keep his voice cordial.
Spoke steeled themself, hyperaware of how easy it would be for Minute to send them back into the torture that was the void’s sensory deprivation. If they didn’t answer, would Minute be more upset? They forced their voice out, “I’m just Void right now. It’s… empty. I can try to hold things but it just slips through after a second- though I do try it just- it’s just really hard without a proper body. I just don’t wanna mess up your redstone,” they mumbled the last part, glancing away and hoping it’d make Minute pity them enough not to toss them off the ledge for his uselessness. They’d just need to find a different way to get a body.
Or they’d need to find a way to run. That sounded like it’d be a better option for them.
“Ah. So that was why- hm. So, you don’t have anything in your inventory right now?” Minute asked. Spoke shook their head mutely.
Minute just closed his eyes a moment, “it’s fine. Just. I’ll lead you to a guest room, I guess. Just stop following me around.”
They nodded in acknowledgment. They couldn’t stay the night. They needed to get out of here before Minute got completely fed up with them.
He led them to a simple enough room, with the same bat-like banners hung on the door. The inside was simple, a chest and a red bed in one corner, a cabinet on the other end, a red carpet they couldn’t feel the softness of.
Before leaving, Minute paused long enough to look them over one last time.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, “aren’t you cold?”
They glanced at their shirt and shorts and the single hoodie wrapped around their waist then back to Minute, “no? Is it cold here?”
Minute shook his head, “no, it’s- it’s nothing.”
He then closed the door.
Curiously, they headed over to the bed. Was this a trap? They knew if they touched that they’d just explode. They weren’t planning on sleeping either. They moved to sit on the carpet and found it oddly pleasant even if they couldn’t feel the texture. It worked well as padding, thick as it was. They found their eyes drooping, head lolling forward. They were laying down before they knew it.
Just a few hours wouldn’t do them any harm. They’d go to the overworld when they woke up.
It wasn’t like Minute wanted them around after all.