Chapter Text
A bullet tears through the stagnant air, an indomitably loud screech following suit. Describing it as one wouldn't even be fully accurate, it sounded simultaneously like the screams of the damned and the incoherent whispers of demons. The monster's indescribable mass shambled and flailed around the auditorium like space, splashing water mixed with viscera across the once pristine white tiles of the walls. It seemed to tank every shot he took without a problem, swallowing each of them and barely being affected by the small holes left in their wake; each bullet was a single drop of water in its infinite ocean.
Fuck. This. Shit.
Z doubts there will ever be a day where he won't be fighting horrors beyond comprehension; the prospect was inevitable every single time Regect dragged him into another godforsaken quest. Speaking of God forsaken, the monster— thing, creature, god, whatever the fuck— reaches out its tendrils(?) towards Z, attempting to grab his leg. It's not hard for him to dodge it in time but he's already drained of a lot of energy. Another curse slips past his lips before he fires another bullet into the monster, it screams its ear-splitting scream once more, retaliating by spraying a pitch black ink all over his face (Z's definitely going to need to take 10 showers after this shit show is over).
"Dude watch out!" Regect yells, flying around uselessly like a mosquito.
Z has no idea what he's been doing the entire time, and his anger doubles when he realizes that. Can this dude actually fight at all? Does his stupid ARG powers have any use outside of annoying him? Still blinded by the ink, he fires randomly across the entire room. Hearing a meek little yelp from Regect relieved some of his annoyance.
"What the fuck dude? Are you trying to get both of us killed?" Regect grabs Z by the wrist, yanking him away from his original spot.
"And what are you doing, dipshit? I'm the one doing all the fighting here—" his words are cut off by Regect dunking his head face first into the water. "ARGAHSHGAG Stop that!" Z shoves his attacker away, and if the monster wasn't trying to kill them at that moment he would've shot Regect a few dozen (correction, hundred) times.
The monster sweeps its collosal tendrils across the space, leaving nothing but rubble in its wake. Regect grabs Z by the shirt, flying up and dodging the attack by a hair's width. Z takes the opportunity to land a couple shots on the monster, suppressing a gag at the ghastly smell the monster's spurting blood posseses.
"Go back to finding Moe! I'll take care of this." Regect says, voice just barely heard over the agonized sounds spilling out from the monster.
"Huh? What the hell are you going to do with it? You can't even stub your toe without crying, do you seriously think you can take this thing?!"
"Oh my God just trust me once in your pathetic life!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Yuh uh!"
Regect ends the conversation by sending Z (with a surprising amount of strength) flying towards the end of the hall, that was the sole entrance to this room. He screams out in terror, water crashing against his back as he broke the water's surface, a dinstinct chlorine smell fills his senses then after. Z is relieved to find that the water was deep enough to cushion his fall, hurriedly swimming back up to the surface. He wipes off the water clouding his vision, finding Regect struggling to dodge each of the monster's attacks. Taking care of it on his own? Yeah, right.
Z struggles against the endless currents the monster creates, rushing towards the black little dot that was Regect compared to this giant thing. Regect seemed to be in deep focus, the voids that were his limbs completely still except for the occasional dodging maneuver. His hands were outstreched, almost as if reaching for something, pulling at it, attempting to rip it out. Another wail reverberates through the room, more tentacles sprout up from the water where the monster resides, reaching out to Regect and threatening to consume him in its slimy expanse.
"Watch out!" Z yells, managing to shoot one of the tentacles.
"Why are you still here dude?!" Regect finally gets out of the way of the tentacles as he speaks. He would've given Z a mean glare if he actually had a face, but since he doesn't, he instead opts to flip him off. Rude.
"'Cause you're about to get screwed over by a bunch of tentacles! Don't tell me you're into that sort of thing—" Z is cut off by a tentacle wrapping itself around his neck, lifting him up as he struggled.
Regect replies with a groan, more annoyed than worried. He folds his arms across his half missing chest and leaves Z to fight for his life alone out of sheer spite. Regect does atleast distract the monster to buy Z some time, blowing raspberries in one of its many faces and kicking it in the eye. Fortunately, Z does eventually manage to wrangle his gun so that its aimed at the tentacle. He shoots, a sprinkle of blood following the bullet as it goes through the other end of the tentacle. The pain manages to stun it, allowing Z to escape its clutches. He's falling for a moment until Regect manages to grab him by the wrist and leaves him dangling in the air below him. Still pissed off by Regect's stubbornness and utter stupidity, Z attempts to free himself from his grip.
"Let go of me, I can't shoot it like this— hey what are you doing?!"
Regect pulls him up, locking him into something akin to a hug. His arms are wrapped around Z's stomach, making it so the other's back was firmly pressed against him. Z spouts more curses and tries—to no avail— to slip out of the bear hug like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Regect whispers something, which makes Z realize he does have some sort of mouth that he uses to speak, even if he doesn't have a face (which in retrospect should've been obvious, but Z thinks that maybe he was just like— communicating telepathically the whole time), and currently, Regect is using it to whisper sweet nothings gibberish into his ear.
"Huh? I-I don't understand what you're saying, man. Speak louder!" Z thrashes about again, and eventually when the monster's scream peters out into a low growl, he manages to parse that Regect was chanting in some ancient language— probably some enchanting table type of stuff.
He's about to ask Regect what he's actually saying when suddenly a void engulfs his vision. It's there in a flash, everything; the monster, the white tiles and the pool water disappears as if it never existed in the first place, as if the void was always there, their life (or maybe his life only, Z's not even sure if Regect counts as a living being) forever the only matter left. And it was quiet, so quiet that when Z opened his mouth to speak, not a word could come out. He tried to scream, tried to punch at Regect's arms but there was nothing. Not a single sound. And Z soon realizes he's unsure how he can even see Regect right now.
Regect's form could only ever be described as a shadow, a piece of the game cut out, negative space taking form into limbs and a bellowing voice. Being the same pitch black as the void, he should've blended in, the edges of his form melting into the nothingness that surrounded them. Yet Z could see him, see him so clearly this time, clearer than he's ever seen him before. He could make out the other half of his chest, his face, his lips that continued chanting despite no sound leaving them and his gaze, boring into him—in to his soul. Z felt his heart pound out of his chest, his blood rushes to his head when he realizes he can't breathe. There's no air around to fill his lungs with once more, his mortality faces him head on.
Is this how he dies?
Strangely, the sense of panic that overwhelmed him dulled when that question entered his mind. He shuts his eyes, focusing on Regect's cold arms he's been trapped in. Relenting to it, his mouth moves to fo form words that he knows will never reach Regect.
And then air rushes into his ears. He's blinded by a sudden burst of light, the newly born ether forming into a familiar scene. The room is back again, perfectly clean and pristine as if nothing had happened, as if the monster was never there at all. He takes a breath, it's probably the most relieved one he's ever taken.
"W-what the fuck?" Z whispered, grabbing Regect by his shoulder as if he were afraid to fall. And he sure does.
The two of them fall feet first into the water below, gravity finally having enough of Regect's disobedience and sending him careening down. They hit the water with a giant splash, air punched out of Z's lungs as quickly as it came back. After more minutes of struggling, he's finally able to crawl out of the water, hanging on to the edge of the pool like it was a lifeline.
"How the— What even was that dude?" he coughs out, craning his head towards Regect, who had already teleported out of the water.
"Why didn't you leave? You could've died!" Regect kneels down to the pool surface, splashing water into Z's face.
"Fuck you asshole! God forbid I try to save you." Z splashes back in retaliation.
"But you didn't, did you? I did! I could've handled it fine! I know I'm a dick sometimes but you gotta learn to trust what I say." Regect spits out his retort, standing up and using his legs to splash the water instead. "Oh look at Regect, how dare he try to stop Z from killing himself! He's the worst person ever for saving him, he should've just sent him to his death!"
Z flinches back, overwhelmed by the barrage of freezing cold droplets hitting his face. He wipes the water off, speaking about the more pressing matter at hand about what just happened.
"Dude, did you delete the entire chunk or something? Why didn't you do that any other time? Could've saved us from so many headaches."
Despite their clear exhaustion from fighting the monster, they're never too tired to begin arguing about the most trivial things.
"Right, let me just corrupt the world whenever I want! If I did that every single time your stupid ass would find a way to fall out of the world. Maybe if you actually did something productive like finding Moe instead of running to me and getting us both into more trouble none of this would've happened."
"Okay shithead, you just expect me to abandon my friend to an eldritch abomination?" Z snaps back. He's still in the water, folding his arms across the pool's ledge.
"…We're friends?"
"Oh fuck off, man. This is the last time I'll try to save you."
Instead of another insulting reply Z expects, Regect just… stands still. It's hard for Z to read him, especially because he doesn't really have a face to emote with, but he seemed almost confused.
"Wait, no actually?"
Z stares at him for a long moment. Watching his form glitch and abberate as Regect just stands there.
"What— yeah of course we are you jerk!" Regect's words conjure up enough anger for Z to leap out of the pool and punch the other in the shoulder. "We literally live together!"
"You sure as hell have a funny way of showing it." Regect mutters through a pout, clutching his wounded shoulder as if the other had shot him there.
Z furrows his brows, very displeased in response. Isn't it obvious? They've hung out so many times, he thought by now that both of them considered eachother a friend— a very irritating and insufferable friend, but still, a friend. The idea that all this time, after all the things they went through together, Regect never thought of Z as a friend even a single time pisses him off.
"Come on dude, we've known eachother for forever."
"You can't blame me! You literally whine all the time about some "this is hell… isn't it?"—" Regect says, putting on a mocking impression of Z. "Is it crazy to think that you hate me?"
"Well I do but like… Whatever, man!"
"You're such a dick."
"You're the bigger dick here."
"That's what your mom said to me last night."
"I'd say that about your mom too but wait, you don't have a mom do you?"
"Yes I do."
"…Wait what, how does that work? You said you didn't have a grandma, though."
"That's none of your business."
Z sighs, wringing out the water from his clothes. It was as if he was on the precipice of hypothermia now, icy cold chills running down his spine. The argument doesn't really make him any warmer, but it atleast provides distraction.
"Well I guess it really isn't because apparently we're not friends." he bites back.
"That's how you wanna play it? Fine, I hate you anyway." Regect huffs.
"Yeah I hate you too, I should've abandoned your ass back there. Maybe I'd finally have some peace in my life once you're gone."
The pointed words seem to startle Regect, making him pause for a moment.
"Oh really?"
"Really. Nothing to miss about a jerk like you."
"I'm the one who built the house you're living in, and this is how you talk to me? You're so damn ungrateful, I don't know why I put up with you anymore."
"You're the one who keeps exploding everything and corrupting the worlds! I just wanna play some normal minecraft, man— and you always have to ruin it. You make my life hell and you send me to literal hell while you're at it too!"
"W-well it would be boring if I wasn't there."
"And it would probably be the first time I've ever felt happy in a while."
"Then go ahead! Fuck off to somewhere else if I make you so miserable."
"Yeah, maybe I will. I'd ask you to go find some other player to bother, but they'd probably reject you too."
"Oh, 'cause I'm the worst, right? 'Cause I'm some fucking good for nothing that's not even scary? That I can't for once in my stupid existence be anything but a mistake?" Regect yells his words, almost choking on them.
"Your words, not mine." Z muttered back.
"Fuck you. Did you say we were friends just to make fun of me?"
"And what if I did?"
"Of course you did." And this time Regect falters, the rushing anger dissipating into something sad, almost dispondent.
Z's words catch in his throat, caught off guard by the genuine hurt in Regect's voice, quite unlike the rage bitten response he expected. He stares at him for a while, an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. His veins begin to feel like they're curling in on themselves.
"N-no dude. I'm joking. That was a joke— that last part not the first part. We're friends." Z stuttered out.
"I know."
Regect mutters it out half-heartedly. It's quiet again.
"Yeah. You're my friend. I'm your friend." Z added firmly.
Regect doesn't say anything back. However, the sombre mood doesn't get to last for too long. Their ears perk up as the sound of distant honking becomes audible, the source getting closer and closer…
"Moe!" Z shouts out, running straight towards her. He's quickly followed by Regect.
"Honk honk! (I finally found you guys!)"
"Where have you been, dude? I was worried as hell."
"Honk honk honk… Honk honk honk Honk! (Well, I found some nice fish friends…. and they lead me to the exit!)"
The sound of splashing water echoes through the halls. When Z looks down to the source of them, he sees a school of fish collecting at Moe's feet. Her pants are sopping wet now but she was atleast better off than Z, who had been dunked into water so many times his fingertips began to prune up like dates.
"Uh… You sure we can trust these guys? The other guy we found in here tried to eat us."
Moe tilts her head in reply, belatedly realizing the two were soaked head to toe in water and looked exhausted out of their minds.
"Honk honk honk… Honk honk! (I'm sure it'll be fine… They're too small to take a chomp at us!)" The school of fish spin around her legs as if in agreement. "Honk, honk, honk. Honk honk honk!(Come on, you guys look like you need a good napping. We should go home before you're both too tired to walk!)"
And with those words, Moe turns around, following her fish friends as she hops around the shallow pool— making a big splash with each step. Watching it, Z stills before following her, taking the time to steal a glance at Regect. He couldn't tell then if they had locked eyes nor the expression Regect was wearing. The silence stayed on their way home.
After having escaped the liminal hell the trio had been stuck in (the exit being a door that dissappeared the moment they went through it), all three of them resolved to laze around for the rest of the day. Regect remained glued to the computer; playing Harvest, Moe busied herself with perfecting her juggling and Z immediately passed out on his bed. Of course, that wasn't all he did; he replaced his wet clothes beforehand (waking up with a wet bed would probably make him think he pissed himself for a few horrifying seconds) and he made sure to do another round of fistfighting his thoughts. That stupid image of Regect was stuck in his mind for a long time, not just his fully visible form in that void— so black that it shined against the emptiness— but also his dispondent reply, the way he sounded like a hurt little kid realizing that he was only invited to the popular kid's table to do all their homework.
Z can't say he feels bad (it's impossible to feel any pity for that asshole anyway) but it's just… Unlike him. The idea never occured to Z that his words could actually hurt Regect. Deep in his heart Z knows that being mean was just their love language at this point, and he always assumed Regect knew whatever came out of his mouth was just some random bullshit to get him heated (well, atleast a good chunk of it anyway). And that's just it. Regect was surprised that Z thought they were friends, he took it at face value when Z jokingly denied it afterwards and most of all; he was sad when he believed it, not even pissed. Just real sad.
Has he been too mean to Regect? It wouldn't be fair to say so, Z thinks, especially because Regect has arguably been equally as much of an asshole to him as he was to Regect. And also, what the hell was up with the whole reciting ancient spells and deleting an entire chunk thing? Well, Z understands a little bit why Regect doesn't want to a reality bending power like that in the first place; but it would've been really handy (not to mention kinda sick to see) if he just used it more. Maybe in the theater so he could chuck that stupid good for nothing robot that stole Moe's horn straight into the void where it belonged. Z's train of thought would've continued chucking along it's path, probably running over a bunch of imaginary Regects on the way, but his exhaustion soon took hold. His tense muscles relaxed and his eyes failed to keep themselves open. To dreamland he went, tuckered out from the insanity of that day.
The next day dawns upon him and it's…! Raining. It's raining.
Raining means Regect is going to spend the entire day cooped up in the house. Maybe he'll be curled up on the couch, maybe he'll be sighing mournfully and staring out the window with some sense of yearning. It's like the rain put a spell on Regect to make him the living embodiment of misery. Z doesn't really know what to do when he gets like this, Moe doesn't either.
She's performed a sweet trick in front of Regect once in an attempt to cheer him up; with 10 bowling pins (that Z has no idea where she got from) she began juggling all of them at once, skillfully coordinating her hands and pulling it off without breaking a sweat. Then, she'd go bigger, she'd start throwing them higher, high enough that they would almost touch the ceiling; and revealing a conveniently placed button hidden up her sleeve, Moe would press it and the bowling pins would combust, going up in brilliant crimson flames that lit up the entire house. It was a fire hazard and a half, but fortunately the bowling pins were already reduced to ashes by the time they hit the ground.
And what did Regect say to that?
"Oh, that's pretty cool, Moe…"
If Regect wasn't so depressed at the time, Z would've put a bullet through his head for making Moe waste all her effort on such a lackluster reaction. But Regect was deppressed, and the mood became even more dire afterwards. Moe's enthusiasm deflated realizing there wasn't anything she could do to cheer him up. Shoving that depressing memory aside, Z stared at the moping Regect from across the room, deciding to revisit the treacherous quest of brightening his downcast mood one more time. An idea strikes him, it isn't a good one— but the positive is that even if Regect was still sad after, Z and Moe would've atleast been able to enjoy a day out in the wilderness.
"…Why are we here?"
Regect peered into the waters beneath them, finding his reflection distorting with every raindrop hitting the surface. They made ripples in the lake, small yet still mighty.
The rain had calmed down a bit once the trio reached the lake. There was a small boat they used the last time they went magnetfishing. It was one of the few things Z remembered them doing that didn't end too horribly (okay, he kinda, almost, maybe left a giant crater in the lake last time, but he's sure the wildlife population wasn't too affected by it) and it was also a relaxing activity. His usually noisy head often clears up when he's entrapped in the serene atmosphere of the lake, and he thinks Regect feels the same way. Z wordlessly shoves a fishing pole into Regect's hand whilst Moe struggles to operate hers. She was as chipper as ever despite the rain, excited to do just about anything together.
"The weather sucks too much to do this…" Regect muttered, watching as Z's bobber bobbed on the surface of the lake.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Just enjoy the scenery, man."
"Right—" He looked around him, voice low. "the scenery…"
Z bit the inside of his cheek. Big surprise, the rain trumps any fun Regect could be having. He feels a frustration rising within him, but he manages to suppress it.
"You can stay in if you want. Maybe put on some music… maybe sleep…" Z replied, trailing off when he realizes there's not really much to do here.
Regect stays quiet for a moment ('quiet'… Z's starting to hate that word.) before he speaks again.
"Nah, I'll fish too."
Another fishing line joins the two, Regect's bobber lands close to the boat, just a few meters away from the side. Z hums a song beneath his breath, an old 80's tune he heard a while back. He can't recall the lyrics exactly, so he's just going off the melody alone. Moe's shifting her weight back and forth between her feet, waiting impatiently for a bite.
"So uh…" Z says, trying to fill in the silence and not really knowing why. "You finished Harvest yet?"
What used to be a heavy rain had finally softened into a light drizzle, the rain clouds parted and let a few rays of light shine down upon them. The mood was supposedly less gloomy now, but Regect's voice betrays otherwise.
"I've already completed it like… 5 times.'
"Oh." Another painfully long pause. Z's already ran out of things to say. "…Huh, I just realized your bobber's the only purple." he adds with haste.
"My bobber?" Regect looks down into the water, dry amusement showing through as he says "It really is.".
He shifts again, the conversation not having gotten any easier. Z wants to crawl out of his skin and jump off the boat at this point. Were they always this awkward? Is this just what they're like when they're not arguing?
"I like it, though. Purple's my favourite colour." Regect muttered.
"I thought white was your favourite colour?"
"They're both my favourite colour. I just miss seeing purple sometimes. I used to see it a lot."
"Feels like there's some hidden meaning in there that I don't get."
"You're too dumb to get it."
"Shut up."
"Okay."
The wind blows, sending a chill breeze cascading over them. Why does this feel so unbearable? Z wasn't one to hate silence, in fact, he's missed it now ever since Regect came crashing into his world and fucking things up. But it feels wrong, because he feels like he did something wrong. And so what? Z made a stupid joke. And it's not like that's the sole reason Regect's depressed. He's always been like this during rainy days. It was inevitable for Regect to be miserable whether or not Z's insult stabbed him in the heart beforehand.
This odd sense of guilt could be the result of hearing the gloomy timbre in Regect's voice for two days straight now when it was usually bright or furious, and also the fact that Z can't stop himself from replaying yesterday's conversation in his head— friends, they were friends, Regect didn't think that. How long did he think that? Did he think they were just roommates? Was he just some random guy he liked to pop in on and bother from time to time? Were there other players he messed with?
The feeling of his bobber being tugged at interrupts his thoughts. Z begins reeling it in, only half paying attention as he continues his internal tirade.
On second thought, he's probably the only player that Regect's haunting right now. It's obvious, he's a reject. Nobody else is going to tolerate his bullshit except for Z. But he's starting to realize now that he really doesn't know much about Regect. He knows Regects's some weird glitch monster that started harassing him one day, he knows the guys a pompous douchebag, who really likes building, who can bake surprisingly well, who's unable to shut up at any given time. It's all so surface level, though. Z doesn't know why he gets so depressed in the rain, why he stares at flowers as if they put him in a trance, why he lingers on certain things like carrots and the colour red, how one time, during the late hours of midnight, he accidentally called Moe "Micha" while she was asleep.
He wants to ask so bad. Even if Z hates Regect with a burning passion sometimes, he still wants to know. But every single time he opens his mouth to ask, something stops him. It just feels… too personal.
And what right does he have to questions like that if Regect didn't even think of him as a friend?
"Honk… honk honk honk. (Um… Z, I think you're reeling it in a little too hard.)" Moe's voice startles Z.
He looks down at his hands, realizing he's been holding the fishing pole with a death grip. His hands have been putting in the work to spin the reel as fast as they could as well. The fishing pole strained under the tension.
"Well looks like the fish doesn't want to be caught either." Regect added.
"I'll teach it real good not to test me then—" Z pulls at the fishing pole, the wood stretched as it became a victim to a very aggressive game of tug of war between him and this stupid fish that didn't want to becaught. His feet begin to lose their hold.
"Honk, honk honk? (Wait, why does it look like it's winning?)"
Before Z could prove Moe wrong, she was proved right. In comical fashion, Z slipped straight off the deck and followed the fishing pole into the water. As water rushed into his ears and a booming crash overtook his senses, he could vaguely hear the sounds of Moe's distressed honking and Regect's small little "Oh, shit.". It was strange thinking back, Z still had a lot of oxygen left in his lungs, yet he found his vision slowly darkening nevertheless. In the last sliver of vision he could manage, he saw the waters hues turn darker as his body sunk deeper into its depths.