Chapter Text
It’s been a long day.
It's not even noon.
o
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Alan prepared himself some coffee and headed for the PC. Partly for a commission he was working on and partly to see what the sticks were up to.
It seemed like it was going to be a calm day for them. Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow were all sitting or laying around their couch, invested in their own activities. Orange was likely still asleep seeing as they weren't already with them. Alan checked in for Blue's pronouns for the day, he/him, gave them a quick wave and changed to his basic wallpaper to continue the commission. Eventually Orange woke up and joined him. Everything was good.
Until the PC began overheating.
Then the virus.
Then the virus was sentient. (Though what isn’t anymore?)
And they couldn't stop it. His cursor was gone. His keyboard was useless and his sticks were all trapped and Orange was going to be erased, disintegrated, killed.
And then–
And then hope.
The Chosen One.
Fighting, despite Alan thinking they were gone, disappeared when they destroyed his PC.
(Killed when they escaped.)
He and the kids watched as The Chosen One destroyed the virus, Alan's cursor returning and the color gang being set free. After the quick and confusing nod between him and The Chosen One and the subsequent departure, Alan assumed everything was going to continue as it normally does. He'd be a bit stuck in the haze he falls into when he thinks about the past too much but Orange would be there drawing with him or engaging in any mischief the other four were likely to get into, probably led by either Yellow or Red.
Except that's not what happens.
He and the rest of the color gang watched in shock as Orange jumps into the portal after The Chosen One with barely any hesitation.
Not Red or Green in an attempt to make another friend.
Not Yellow to figure out how a stick got into the PC through the Wifi.
Not Blue in a burst of curiosity of the world the unfamiliar stick came from.
Orange.
Alan could do nothing but watch as the others jump in after Orange.
Green was the only one to stop right before jumping, turning to face him. She pointed at herself and the portal then pointed at him and made a motion with her arms, telling him to stay there or to calm down then she jumped after the others.
Alan had stared at the screen, at the white swirling portal everyone had gone into. That’s that. The his sticks were gone now. They weren't going to be returning, The Chosen One would tell them all what he did to them. The sticks that have been living with him for years would learn they've been living with a monster. He doesn't know how long he spent staring at the portal when he finally turned his attention to the shattered pieces across his desktop. He began to methodically drag the pieces to the recycle bin.
At least he'll finally have a truly clean desktop after this. They won't be messing with him while he tries to get work done. He could get rid of all the other wallpapers, save his storage without all the minecraft builds they have. Red's pets were still there though, would he be able to feed them outside of Minecraft? Then again, Red would definitely come back for them
Maybe he'd be able to see them all again–but no, the others wouldn't allow her to return in a time where Alan might be up.
A pop up pulled him out of his thoughts. Nothing but the caution symbol and ‘HELP!’ Considering he'd just gotten a virus, he pressed the x and moved on. Until another pop up came up, this one with a drawing of The Chosen One and ‘PLEASE!’ Alan paused, it could still be a trick. Some kind of plan to get revenge on him for what he did to them. Or it could be real and The Chosen One really needs help, they'd known what the virus was and if they're in trouble then the likelihood of the color gang being in trouble was practically certain. And just as he thought that another popup overtook the previous one, more sophisticated, the messages were coming from Yellow.
Of course they were, little genius that she was. But the problem came from the computer she was using.
The Dark Lord.
Thinking back to the virus he supposes the color had been similar if not identical to The Dark Lord's. If they still remembered correctly.
Yellow says The Chosen One is in trouble. Whether this is a ploy to get some type of revenge, worst case scenario he'll need to buy a new PC. (Worst case scenario is ignoring the message and letting his sticks die.)
Alan pressed Yes.
A program opened, Animator Combat Tool, revealing a cliffside opening up to a mass of water and a little shack. It would’ve been a nice scenery if it weren't for the two sticks battling it out above the water. The Chosen One and The Dark Lord.
Alan moved his cursor to grab The Dark Lord, slamming them onto the cliff and dragging them across it. He didn’t acknowledge the questions in the back of his mind or the guilt welling up over hurting another stick again fully knowing their sentience. He kept his thoughts firmly on what could've been if The Chosen One hadn't stopped the virus on time and supported The Chosen One throughout the battle.
The two of them were holding up against The Dark Lord; it even seemed like they had the advantage. Until they summoned more of those spider viruses. No matter how much or where Alan moved his mouse his cursor wouldn't move until the viruses threw it underwater. He quickly shot out of the water and tried keeping his distance from the swarm of spiders flying after him. But he wasn't fast enough and he messed up.
The spiders swarmed and crawled all around his cursor (he felt shivers at the thought of all those spiders crawling). Alan was shocked when The Chosen One suddenly flew towards him at high speeds and began defending his cursor. He didn't react when The Dark Lord threw The Chosen One into the cliff, the shock kept him still. Enough that he also didn't react when The Dark Lord stabbed his cursor multiple times at once. Alan tried moving the cursor again as he saw the spiders rush towards him again. He soon stopped and directed his attention to the shack when he noticed it wasn't moving though. The shack was most likely where the color gang was hiding out. He hoped against hope they would stay hidden in there or better yet leave the scene entirely (come back home). His meager hopes were immediately dashed when he saw Orange run out of the shack. Alan didn't see more than a few steps before the screen went dark.
“No!” Alan shot up, his chair rolled away and he gripped the screen of his PC. “Orange what are you doing? Get away from there!”
Screaming wasn't going to do anything. The program wasn't even open anymore and they've never been able to hear him through the screen anyways.
And yet he continued to yell and plead around his heart that lodged itself in his throat, “Orange— Orange please they'll kill you! All of you! Stop!”
The desktop will be too clean, too empty. No more of Red showing off a new pet, baby or grown, or any of his amalgamations of mobs. None of Green's late-night raves waking everyone up or new songs she's working on. No Yellow with her redstone inventions that are either insanely cool and useful or a threat to society. No more of Blue excitedly showing off new meals he's figured out or potions that question the laws of nature. And no Orange. No Orange joining him while he's animating whether they're helping or simply watching. None of his and Orange's drawings coming to life and wrecking havoc.
And maybe— maybe he wasn't going to have that anymore anyways. They'd left with The Chosen One after all. But at least they could have been alive.
A shock and slight sting on his thumb snapped him out of his panic. He let go of the PC, he'd evidently been gripping it hard enough to crack the screen. He lifted the hand that had gotten shocked, holding his wrist with his right hand to control the shaking. Alan's thumb was scratched, the slightest bit of blood poking out. It was also numb, likely from the electrical shock. Alan was about to brush it off when he noticed it wasn't just his thumb that felt numb but his whole hand. Shaking it didn't do anything, it only got worse, his other arm also getting the same numb and tingly feeling.
“What?” Alan mumbled in confusion. He tried to sit back in his chair but the numb tingly feeling had spread to his legs— his whole body really— and the chair wasn't even directly behind him anymore. He fell backwards.
Alan lost consciousness before his head even hit the floor.
o
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Alan regained consciousness as soon as his head hit the grass.
His eyes were closed as he groaned and lifted an arm to rub his head.
Except, something felt off.
Alan opened his eyes, meeting a clear blue sky and a purple arm.
A purple arm that was his.
He screamed as he sat up and tried to scramble away as if the arm wasn't connected to him.
“What the– How? What? What?” He looked down at his body, scared for what he knows he's going to see and yet still needing to see it with his own eyes. He was still clothed (thank God) nothing technically looked different. Except for the fact that he was entirely purple. Another thought suddenly occurred to him and he quickly poked his hand into his cheek. And promptly screamed again when his hand went through his face, leaving him with an uncomfortable feeling in the spot his hand is in.
He pulled his hand away, just to use both hands to feel his face, because he can see and he can talk and how does he have a mouth or eyes when his head is hollow but he does because he slapped his mouth and he poked his nose and he almost scratched his eyes but how does this work. The body was almost human, almost. Except his head was hollow but he still had facial features? What was happening?!
“Orange!”
The distant yell from an unfamiliar voice snaps him out of his panic (he's been panicking too much today). He looks over to where the voice came from. To the far right he could see four colorful bodies running towards a cliff. Even farther, already at the cliff and beginning to slide down was another body.
Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, and Orange.
Alan was up and sprinting before he knew what he was doing. Orange was out of view already and the other four were far too close to the edge. This is a bad idea. The closest Alan's ever been to a fight he was either running away or trying to make himself a smaller target (it worked the first time, the older kids had just kept kicking each other).
Still, he didn't stop until he reached the edge. He'd gone a bit farther than the others did, they were more towards the left. He was going to ignore the fact that having a hollow head didn't feel unnatural. Alan looked back to where he started from, being a stick must've given him an athletic boost, and down at the cliff. Everyone was down there, nobody looked like they were going to be backing down anytime soon. He swallowed and began climbing down.
Just for one of his foot and hand holds to break off the cliff and sending him sliding down. He yelped trying to grab hold of the cliff again without losing his balance. Alan looked back at the group gathered, they were much closer now but Red was reaching her limit, fast. Alan looked at the distance, too far if he kept sliding but maybe he could be fast enough if he jumped?
He can. He can do this. Just jump. Easy. He could do it. He could.
He looked back at Red. Red who began to run towards The Dark Lord, fists raised.
Alan jumped.
He still had to run a bit more after he landed feet first (it hurt but nowhere near what it should've). The Dark Lord dodged Red's first attack. Alan saw them ready their blade, about to stab Red. In a final sprint, Alan reached The Dark Lord, he used the momentum and any strength he had in his stick body to push The Dark Lord off the cliff right before their blade made contact with Red.
Alan hunched over gasping for breath. He has never done so much exercise at once like this, he needs a break.
“Thank you! Quick question, who are you?”
Alan straightened up, Red was smiling, as if she hadn't been about to die. The others were staring at him in shock and Alan felt all the frustration and anxiety well up again.
“What were you guys thinking? Do you know how dangerous this is? I don't care if you've done crazy things already this is different! The Dark Lord is going to hurt you guys and—”
Alan paused as he finally processed the faces he was looking at, he knew they were young but, “Why do you all look so young? You're all babies.”
Blue scrunched his face, “we're all like fifteen. It's not our fault you're geriatric.”
Alan ignored the comment, “this is all too dangerous for an adult let alone you kids, we're leaving.”
Yellow spoke up from where she'd been whispering with Green, “Alan?”
“What?”
“Alan!?”
He waved away the topic, “I don't know what happened but we're running out of time. We're going back to the PC.” He looked at The Chosen One, who took a step back at the attention. He ignored the guilt and continued, “You can stay with us and recover, let's just go.”
The Chosen One shook their head and directed their gaze at Orange, “it's too late. She won't let you guys leave anymore.”
“But,” Orange walked closer to The Chosen One. “Alan's right, The Dark Lord isn't here yet, if we all go to the PC, you can get better and—”
“She's been listening.”
“Y’know, you're so smart sometimes, Chosen. What happened this time?”
Alan whirled around coming face to face with The Dark Lord. She hovered over to stand on the ledge they were all standing on. Alan froze when she set her glare on him.
“Alan ‘noogai’ Becker,” she walked closer, leaving only a bit of space between them. “There's something different about you, I just can't quite figure it out. Ah well,” she backed off, shrugging with one arm. “Sorry to interrupt this little reunion, I didn't know you were actually capable of caring for us lowly beings.”
“What?” Alan shook his head, “look just, leave the rest of them out of this,” Alan said, really hoping his voice sounded steadier than he actually was. “They're kids, they're not a part of this. You're angry at me, right? Let them go.”
The Dark Lord sneered, “you are so self absorbed. You think this is about you? You're barely a blip in my plans. This isn't even about him.” She held out her hand and faster than anyone could react The Chosen One was being held in place by spiders in front of her. The Dark Lord held their face, far gentler than Alan thought she could, “in fact she was going to be alongside me. We were going to be known, be feared, together. Just like you wanted right, Cho?”
The Chosen One shook his head, as he pleaded, “no. Dark I—”
The Dark Lord grinned, sharp and satisfied, “no, evidently not.” Then something shifted. “Instead you decided to betray me and work with him of all beings,” she snarled, jabbing a finger in Alan's direction.
She pushed The Chosen One, the spiders that were holding him abruptly letting go, sending him crashing into the rocks. Orange, Blue and Green rushed to check on her.
The Dark Lord turned her attention back to Alan and pointed at the kids, “you ask me to let them go? Those little nuisances asked for consequences when they tried to stop me.” She grinned, sharp teeth bared, “so I'll make sure they regret it. Chosen, you'll regret not choosing me, my side, once I make everyone fear me, everyone will know my name, and—”
Red cut off The Dark Lord, not so quietly whispering at Yellow, “how long are monologues supposed to last?”
Yellow shrugged, “forever, apparently.”
Green raised her hand. They'd gotten The Chosen One back up to her feet but Orange and Blue continued to hover near her. Green was closer to Yellow and Red again. “Can you skip to the part where you reveal your tragic backstory or your motivations? Or better yet, the end?”
Green and Yellow were smiling like making fun of someone so powerful was the best thing they've ever done, Red snorted, and Blue covered a laugh with a cough (unsuccessfully), meanwhile Orange and Alan face palmed and sighed.
The Dark Lord chuckled, nodding a few times. Everyone's attention snapped back towards her, despite the kids’ attempt to diffuse some of the tension.
“Alright, alright, I know when to move on,” The Dark Lord directed her attention to him. “I'm going to make you watch as I kill all your little brats and then we're going to do a few experiments together.”
The Chosen One stepped forward, “Dark, don't we can—” He was cut off by a swarm of spiders.
“You I will deal with later, traitor.”
Alan jumped slightly when suddenly Green rushed forward, taking hold of The Dark Lord's neck and swung herself behind her, keeping hold of her neck as she pulled back. Blue jumped up, latching on top of The Dark Lord, delivering punch after punch to the face. Red was directing hits to The Dark Lord's body and legs. Yellow was pulling down The Dark Lord's empty arm meanwhile Orange was holding down the arm with the blade. Alan ran next to Orange and helped them hold down the blade. With all the attacks he thought they might have a chance of holding her down until The Chosen One escaped but when he looked up her face was more angry than hurt.
Before he could say anything, The Dark Lord pulled the arm he and Orange were holding down, angled to where he had to pull Orange out of the way to avoid the blade. With the now free arm, she put the blade away and grabbed Green off her back and used her to throw both her and Blue off. At this point Yellow joined Red in attacking and Orange rushed forward to do the same. The Dark Lord dodged all their attacks and plunged her blade into Red.
They all froze.
They watched as Red disintegrated in front of them.
Alan was still standing to the side from when The Dark Lord dislodged him. He hadn't done anything. Didn't help attack The Dark Lord, didn’t do anything to stop her from killing Red.
A choked sob turns into a yell as Blue attacks The Dark Lord again, Green right beside him. The kids resume their attacks, stronger, recklessly.
And Alan— Alan isn't a fighter. Has never thrown a punch in his life.
He's also not stuck on the other side of the screen anymore. He has to do something.
Alan runs behind The Dark Lord and grabs onto one of his arms again as it was going to grab Green and pulls back making her stumble a few steps. She growls and suddenly Alan is being lifted and thrown straight to Orange.
They land a bit away, with twin oofs, Alan on top of Orange. Alan gets off, kneeling on the ground trying to look over Orange to make sure the fall didn't hurt them too bad.
“You okay? How's your head?”
“I–no,” Orange's eyes were directed behind him, tears falling from already watery eyes. Alan turned around slowly, dreading the worst and being met with the sight. Green was slowly disintegrating, hanging with the blade embedded in her. He could hear Blue's sobs as he put all his strength in pushing and punching The Dark Lord. Yellow was being held in the air by the neck.
Alan flinched back at the thump Green made when she her body fell to the ground. The Dark Lord stabbed Blue and Yellow in quick succession.
Alan and Orange stared at Green, Yellow, and Blue. Watched the bloody code overtake them. Orange got onto their knees, shifting to look at The Chosen One. Alan kept his gaze on the others even after the only thing left was the ground, no trace of the kids. He only snaps back to attention when blurry red feet (not the right shade) come into view. Alan quickly stands in front of Orange, trying to cover them with his body.
“Please,” his voice is cracky and congested. “Please let them go.”
“Alan,” Orange's voice is small and fragile. Alan has never heard them speak before today, but he knows Orange doesn't, shouldn't, sound like that.
The Dark Lord stares at him with an unsettling blank expression. She pointed at him and suddenly he was being thrown to the side by two of the spiders and held down. Alan regained his bearings to see Orange stabbed through the chest, face to face with The Dark Lord.
“No,” he choked out, faintly hearing it repeated behind him but more focused on the nightmare in front of him. He watched Orange hold on, still attempting to hit The Dark Lord as they were stabbed over and over again. Meanwhile Alan has been reduced to sobbing pleads as he tries to get to Orange, the spiders not allowing a single step forward.
The tears in his eyes and glasses make it impossible to see more than splotches of colors when The Dark Lord throws and continues attacking Orange in the air. Alan feels the impact, the earth shake, a depression form in the ground he stands on when Orange is thrown into the cliff.
Suddenly he's face first on the ground when the spiders rush away. Slowly he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, not bothering any more or to lift his head up
Behind him, he heard The Chosen One speak, “What?” The one word full of confusion and disbelief prompted Alan to look out to the ravine. He could see even less now, dust fogging the already hard to see through glasses, but one of those smudges of color—
Alan quickly cleaned his glasses, put them back on and—
Orange.
Flying, holding their own against The Dark Lord, overwhelming her even, with powers they didn't have before, alive like they weren't just a moment before.
Alan exhaled roughly, too many and yet not enough emotions being released with the breath, “Orange.”
“Dark,” The Chosen One said quietly. Alan finally turned around, directly looking at her for the third time since he arrived. He looked devastated, still kneeling, eyes fixed on The Dark Lord. He couldn't tell if her posture was from her injuries and exhaustion or defeat at what may be The Dark Lord's likely outcome. Alan thinks it might be both.
He finally allows himself to think about how they ended up here. Not how he became a stick figure or how the kids got to this world. But how The Chosen One and The Dark Lord ended up on opposite sides yet again. The last Alan had seen them, they'd teamed up against him, befriended one another in their destruction of his PC that aided in their escape. Seven years have passed since that day, they've been close for all that time if the hurt and anger in The Dark Lord's eyes and voice when addressing The Chosen One was to be trusted so what–
The mission code.
What he coded into The Dark Lord at her creation. That had to be the reason. The weird demeanor changes, satisfied to hurt anger. Alan rose to his feet, quickly walking and pulling The Chosen One on his feet and close to the edge.
The Chosen One ripped his arm away, glaring at him as he rubbed the places Alan had held him, “what do you think–”
“Throw me.”
The Chosen One's expression went blank, “excuse me?”
Alan pointed in the general direction of Orange, keeping his eyes on The Chosen One, “we both know the likelihood of The Dark Lord surviving this is low. Throw me, I'll convince Orange not to kill her, we'll take her to the PC, I'll delete the mission statement, and you guys can continue with your lives without her doing this again.”
The Chosen One crossed her arms, looking at him in anger once again, “the mission code isn't why she's like this and why would I allow you anywhere near her code?”
“It'd make things easier wouldn't it? For you and her? I can fix one of my many mistakes, for both of you. You're going to tell me living with that mission statement has been easy for either of you? Let's try this for her. You'll watch the whole time I fix her code but she's running out of time.”
They both looked up at the fight again. The Dark Lord really was running out of time, nearly limp in the air being held up by Orange's rapid attacks. Alan was about to turn back to prod a response from The Chosen One when he felt himself being hoisted up and flying through the air in the next second.
A scream of surprise tore through his throat and before he knew it he was scrambling to grab a steady hold of Orange's arm. Orange paused whatever attack they were about to do, shifting just enough to give Alan a bit of a firmer hold. Orange was using their right hand to hold The Dark Lord up by the neck. He wasn't sure if she was still conscious or not. Orange's face wasn't showing a hint of emotion while they stared at The Dark Lord. Their green eyes were bright, near glowing, but glazed over. Oh, they were glowing now.
“Orange, stop! Don't kill her!” Orange didn't approve of it. Their eyebrows twitched, just slightly, and their hold on The Dark Lord hardened. But they still stopped, eyes going back to how they were.
“I know, I know, but she doesn't deserve to die.” Orange really didn't like that, tears started streaming down their face, eyebrows knitted together. Their hold on The Dark Lord grew even tighter. Alan chanced letting one hand go, reaching to Orange's arm holding The Dark Lord. Slowly, once his hand made contact, their grip eased.
Alan was crying again, he rested the top of his head on Orange. He continued, his cries shaking and interrupting his words, “I–I know, I– they didn't– they– they definitely didn't deserve to–to— But if anything it's my fault. I was the one to write the code that– it– made things worse. You–you never have to forgive her or me. But she should be given the chance to live without a mission statement telling her to kill her friend.”
He doesn't, can't, continue. Overtaken again by the image of Red, Green, Blue, and Yellows bodies being disintegrated. He just got to see them and he immediately lost them, permanently. A part of him wishes Orange will ignore him, finish The Dark Lord off for taking them away. Another, maybe slightly larger, maybe not, who's to say, does believe what he said. The Dark Lord should be given a chance to live without the burden he put on her.
He doesn’t realize they'd been moving until Orange is lightly crouching and his feet are brushing the grass. Orange is still holding The Dark Lord and the shack is in front of them. Confused and moving slow he lets go, shakily standing on his own and immediately falling backwards in shock when Orange slams The Dark Lord on the ground.
“Orange!” He crawls towards the newly formed crater to check if The Dark Lord was still alive. He wasn't sure if sticks had a pulse, but after a second he saw her chest rise and fall, breathing.
He sighed (relief? disappointment?) and turned his attention to Orange walking into the shack. Alan stood on shaky legs, forcing them into a jog. He arrived just in time to see green particles, the color of Orange's eyes, emerge from where their hand met the computer and seemingly head in the direction the ledge they were all at. He gaped as he watched the green particles float over, barely noticing Orange step back unsteadily.
“O?” He stepped closer, good thing he did because as Orange tried taking another step towards him, they began to fall forward.
“Woah!” Alan caught them just before they fell letting Orange put their weight on him. The two didn't stand there for more than a second before Orange was straightening up again, separating from Alan.
He frowned, staying close enough to catch Orange again if they fell but not so close that he'd get in the way. He opened his mouth to suggest resting for a bit longer however Orange started walking steadily out the door. The two reached The Dark Lord, still passed out on the ground. Orange pointed at him then pointed at his back, they did it another two times before Alan got the message.
“You want me to get on your back? Are you sure? Orange, you almost passed out in there!”
They didn't reply, just kneeled on the ground with their back facing him.
“Okay then,” he sighed, as he piggybacked them.
Orange grabbed The Dark Lord's arm, with that they were flying off the cliff, towards the ledge. Alan watched Orange for any signs they were overexerting themselves. The bit of their face didn't show any signs of being tired or any other emotion, but they were flying slower. He thinks. He doesn't emember their flight to the shack, but they're noticeably slower than when they were fighting. Still, he chooses to trust they'll be fine at least until they get back to the PC. Alan looks out to the ledge, immediately his jaw drops, he gasps, and his hold on Orange tightens at the sight of four sticks. At this point the previous tears that had fallen on his glasses again had dried up, he could clearly (well kind of) see his sticks. They were all hugging each other and checking each other over, each one of them keeping some sort of contact with everyone at once.
“Did you–you–you brought them back,” Alan stutters out. Eventually, Blue sees them flying across the ravine towards them. Alan sees him frantically pointing in their direction, he hears when they all start yelling at them, waving their arms and jumping.
Alan laughs, relief, disbelief, and joy coloring the sound. What felt like an eternity later, Orange lands on the ledge. They let The Dark Lord fall to the ground and Alan gets off Orange's back just in time for the two of them to be jumped by the rest of the gang. Alan clings onto them, returning the hug with the same intensity he's receiving. It was hurting honestly but he wasn't going to let go. They hugged and laughed for a time that didn't feel long enough.
Eventually though they stepped back but they all kept some form of contact. Alan got a good quick look at his sticks. Alan could see part of a scar on Green's neck that seemed to go down her chest. Red’s shirt covered where he’d been stabbed, Alan felt incredibly and selfishly grateful for that. Blue and Yellow's scars were far more noticeable. Blue's scar wrapped around his neck, Yellow's stretched horizontally from the middle of her face.
Green spoke up, “what's wrong with Orange?” She was staring at Orange who still hadn't said or done anything beyond intensely staring at them.
Red cut off Alan's attempt to reply, sounding worried. Like she simultaneously didn't want the answer and needed it, her gaze kept jumping from Green, Blue, and Yellow, lingering on their scars. “What happened?”
“How are you here?” Yellow asked, staring at Alan like he was a particularly difficult equation.
“Why is she still alive?” Blue's voice and expression were filled with loathing as he stared at The Dark Lord who was now being carried by The Chosen One.
Alan coughed awkwardly, “right well, turns out Orange has powers. I don't know why they're not talking.” He looks at the ground, he doesn't want to be the one to tell Red the details, he's selfish. “They got the powers after things went…badly.” Alan cleared his throat, “still don't know how I got here. And…I told The Chosen One I was going to help her. I told Orange not to kill her.”
He cringes at the shouts that come from that. Exclamations of confusion and demanding reasonings. The Chosen One steps closer, clutching The Dark Lord close. He glared at Alan, "you're not backing down.”
The kids quiet down, looking between the two. Alan looks at The Dark Lord, she's in bad shape, would definitely be dead if it weren't for her powers. There was no hair in her face, it looked like there had been an attempt to clean the grime off her face. The Chosen One was holding her close, for both their benefits maybe, maybe only his own.
He shook his head, "I'm not backing down.”
Yellow pushed him, not hard, just enough to get his attention, “why are you helping her? What's happening?”
Alan sighed, looking down again, “there's a code. It's a mission statement I put in. It escalated things I think. Made everything worse. We need to get back to the PC so I can undo it.” He quickly looked up at them, “it won't be long! I'll quickly delete the code. She doesn't look like she's going to be getting up anytime soon and The Chosen One will make sure she won't move if she does.”
None of them were happy with this. The four were all looking at each other, making minuscule movements, they were communicating. The Chosen One was getting impatient.
Red looked at Alan, he was holding himself, “does the code hurt her?”
The Chosen One turned the glare he had on him to Red.
Alan nodded slowly, he didn't know how a sticks code affected them too well but based on The Chosen One's reactions and pure guess work, “I think so. At least, suppressing it for so long, I don't think it was good for her.”
And the death stare was pointed back at him.
The gang shared one more glance with each other before Green sighed, “fine.”
Alan frowned, “thank you. I'm sorry.”
“Let's go,” The Chosen One began walking towards the edge.
“Wait,” Blue said. “Orange can't carry us all up at once. We're going to need to go in groups.”
Green nodded, “Blue, Yellow, and Red you guys go up first. Orange will take me and Alan after you guys and these two can follow us.”
Eyebrows furrowed, Blue opened his mouth like he was about to complain but a look from Green and an elbow to the side from Yellow had him shutting his mouth and nodding.
“Their powers are tiring them out, I think,” Alan said, recalling the moment in the shed and how Orange was slightly swaying now. “If you can prepare any potions or get their room ready?”
Blue sighed and nodded, “alright.”
Red walked up first, Orange let her climb up on them like a piggy back ride. Red's hold on Orange resembled a hug, Alan could barely see Red mumble something but he couldn't hear what was said. Blue and Yellow grabbed Orange's hand and soon the four of them were flying up.
Green was glaring at The Chosen One and The Dark Lord with her arms crossed and posture tense. Alan chewed his lip, he didn't know if Green was mad at him, probably was, but he wanted to try to offer some comfort. Slowly, he settled a hand on her shoulder. Green tensed causing Alan to tense as well but before he could remove his hand, she relaxed. She didn’t take her eyes off the two powered sticks but she leaned some of her weight into his hand.
They stayed in silence for the minute it took Orange to get back down. They stumbled a step at their landing, standing slumped as they do when they're on the verge of sleeping. He let go of Green so they both could hold Orange as they stared at the ground.
“Orange? You with us?” Green had one hand on Orange's chest, the other was rubbing their arm.
“We should find another way to get up,” he told Green. “Let Orange rest already.”
Green was nodding, Orange however, was shaking their head. They pulled out of their hold, straightening up and pointed at Alan and back to their back again. Another piggyback ride.
“Again? I don't think this is a good idea. You need rest!”
Orange narrowed their eyes and repeated their pointing with more aggression.
They stared at each other for a second before Alan conceded with a sigh, “fine. But don't get used to ordering me around like this again. Stressful situations.” He climbed onto Orange's back.
“Okay,” Green nodded and began reaching for Orange's hand, only for Orange to move forward and grab Green bridal style.
Green yelped, throwing her arms out to wrap around Orange's neck, slapping Alan in the process.
“Ow.”
Nobody paid attention to him. Green was gaping at Orange, face looking a bit flushed. Alan frowned in confusion (and from getting slapped), until deciding to let it go. It's been an eventful day.
“Alright,” Alan looked at The Chosen One. She was holding The Dark Lord with one arm and staring at the trio with impatience and something else Alan couldn't quite distinguish. “Let's go.”
Orange and The Chosen One began flying up. The Chosen One could only use the fire from their unoccupied hand to fly so it was slow going. He wasn't ahead or behind them just further to the side.
“Alan?” Green asked, having come out of whatever daze she'd been in. “You're going to explain everything once they're gone right? Your apparent history with them?”
Alan tensed, he knew it was coming. From the moment The Chosen One defeated the virus he knew his sticks were going to learn at least part of the truth. Now he was here in person, he was going to have to see them hate him in real time. He wishes he could go back behind the screen. Selfish. Coward.
Still, he nodded, “yeah I…I'll explain. I mean, some details will be left out, it's not—they’re not my details to share. But um yeah no I'll explain.”
Alan was looking away from Green, it didn't stop him from feeling the way Green was analyzing him. She spoke again, “how bad is it? Like…when you first met us?”
When he killed them.
One of many, many days he regrets. One of the only days he actually remembers the specifics of. One day that changed his life for the better.
“Bad,” he whispers. “Worse.” What he did to The Chosen One, The Dark Lord. What he put Victim through.
Another period of silence, they were in a white tunnel now. The pause feels like it lasts for eternity, it's barely a few seconds.
“Okay,” Green says quietly as he nods. “Okay,” she rested her head back on Orange's chest.
Alan quietly sighed, closed his eyes and let his head hang forward a bit. Not too much. Green's arms were already resting on top of his, seeing as they were both holding on to Orange's neck. That was probably already bad enough for her. He didn't want to make her even more uncomfortable with more contact with someone like him. There wasn't much that was worse than killing. Green had to know what he did. He felt like he was sinking, time slowing down.
That…wasn't just in his head.
His eyes snapped open. They were actually losing altitude and traveling a lot slower than before.
“Come on Orange, hold out for just a bit longer, we're almost there, we're so—” Green cut herself off with a scream. Orange wasn't carrying Green themselves anymore, they'd fully passed out leaving Green to hang on from Orange's neck.
“Green!” Alan grabbed her arms, pulling her up so she was more at eye level with Orange. As he did that, he somehow moved them around ensuring he would meet the ground first, hopefully cushioning the fall for Orange and Green.
They slammed into the ground, the impact on his back and two bodies landing on top of him causing the air to be punched out of him. But it didn't feel like he had any broken bones so…yay.
Stick bodies were very resilient.
He still couldn't breathe though.
“Alan!” Green got her and Orange off of him and Alan immediately began taking deeper breaths, causing him to break out into a coughing fit.
“Are you okay? Breathe slower,” Green helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his back once he did. “Nothing's broken?”
He shook his head, taking a few more slow breaths before responding. “No, nothing's broken. You? Are you okay? And Orange?”
She grinned, “I'm okay. You and Orange broke my fall. Orange is okay though, just sleeping, you know them.”
She had laid Orange down next to him. He watched Orange for a second, listening to their breathing. They were okay.
“You couldn't help?” Alan looked back at Green's annoyed tone. She was looking up, eyebrow raised. Alan followed her gaze to The Chosen One, still flying, one hand on fire, the other holding The Dark Lord against her.
He shrugged, “hands full.” But he lowered himself to the ground with them. She adjusted her hold of The Dark Lord back into a bridal carry once her other hand was free.
Green rolled her eyes, “of course.” She glanced back at him, “ready to go?”
Alan nodded, surprisingly he was. He stood up, Green stood with him only taking her hand off once they were both up. He moved to pick up Orange but Green beat him to them.
“I can carry them!” She held Orange like she was being held before they fell.
“Oh. Okay.” Makes sense, Green wouldn't want Alan to be so close to Orange anymore. Once Green told everyone they were going to find a way to send him home quickly, get him out of the desktop and away from them. (They wouldn't kick him out while he was a stick. They were too kind for that.)
Green walked ahead of them, she was muttering to herself. The only words Alan caught were “phone” and “picture.” Alan began following after her, The Chosen One behind him.
The walk really wasn't long, they'd been pretty close to the portal. He and Green walked through first, they were momentarily blinded with white light, but as soon as they had their vision back, Blue was immediately on them.
“Yellow and Red are already in our SticksFight bedroom, we got a few more potions there just in case and you know, just generally making the room comfortable for all of us.” As Blue explains, he's also pouring two potions on Orange, one pure red and the other a much darker tone of red, maybe maroon?
“Potion of healing and strength, they're not physically hurt so it should just give them a bit of a boost in energy. Splash potions too, no risk of choking.” Blue smiled, “and also, they hate splash potions.”
“Ah. Okay.”
Blue turns his attention to The Chosen One and The Dark Lord. More specifically, the band she was wearing. He steps closer to them and holds out a hand, “give me the viraband.”
Alan gapes and Green chokes at Blue's blunt audacity. Distantly Alan wonders when they named the band and if they named the spiders.
The Chosen One stares back at Blue, expression confused more than the anger Alan had been expecting. “Why?”
“Yellow wants it.”
“Of course she does,” Green murmured.
“Uh-” The Chosen One looked between The Dark Lord and Blue, “it's keeping her alive, I think.”
“Is it,” Blue responded, tone as unsurprised as it can be, hand still held out.
“I'm not giving it to you.”
Blue huffed, “fine, here.” He pulled out another pure red splash potion out of nowhere, probably his inventory. “It's a health potion, like I gave Orange. Her injuries weren't from minecraft so it won't completely heal her, but it'll keep her stable.
The Chosen One eyed the potion before nodding. She carefully lay The Dark Lord on the ground and took the potion out of Blue's hand. Blue kneeled by the arm with the viraband. The two look at each other and Blue takes the band off. Immediately, The Dark Lord pales and her breathing becomes strained. Just as fast, The Chosen One is pouring the potion on her. The group watches as her minor injuries fade, her color returns, and her breathing evens out. Some of the worst gashes aren't completely gone but they've closed enough to no longer be life threatening. Alan assumes any internal injuries have been fixed.
Blue stands up, “thanks.”
Green begins walking ahead, “you and Yellow stress me out. Let's get Orange to bed now.”
Before following, Blue faces Alan again,”are you sure…?”
Alan nods, “I'm sure.” He smiles, hoping he sounds and looks like he knows what he's doing. “Go.”
Summoning a netherwart, Blue takes an anxious bite and nods, “be careful.”
Alan watches the three sticks, until they disappear into the files folder. He sighs, letting his body slump. He turns his attention to the two hollowheads. The Dark Lord was being carried again.
He turned his attention to the general PC again, he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do this. He couldn't just click on The Dark Lord to see her code.
“Well?” The Chosen One demanded. “Don't tell me you offered to do this without knowing how.”
“I do!” Lies. “I'll get rid of the mission statement! I just…” His gaze wandered back to the files folder, and suddenly, it hit him.
He ran across the room (screen?) to tap on the windows icon. He stalled for a second to figure out how to type using the text cursor, he typed Task Manager once he had it figured out. Alan climbed onto the window once he opened the app. He didn't have to scroll to find The Dark Lord's name. He pressed on the name two times quickly with both of his hands, willing a side menu to appear because honestly he wasn't sure how else to get to the code.
Luckily for him, it did. He clicked on View Source Code, and another window appeared full of code. The mission statement was near the top of the page. He looked down at The Chosen One. She was glaring up at him, clutching The Dark Lord close to her. He wondered if she was tired from carrying her for so long.
Alan climbed towards the code, there were two lines without any code right underneath the mission statement he stood on. Using one hand he kept contact with the code and used the other to drag the text cursor to the beginning of the code, highlighting it. Above the highlighted text editing options automatically appeared. Carefully, he chose Cut. The mission statement disappeared, as if it was never there.
While Alan went through the steps of making sure everything saved and exiting out, he heard a distant, “What?!” yelled.
Orange must have woken up.
He fell when he closed the last window landing near the hollowheads (luckily not on his face. He was really starting to wonder just how resilient stick bodies were though. They looked almost like human bodies but his human legs would've been dust by now.).
He shuffled awkwardly trying to find the right words for what he needed to say while The Chosen One was staring intensely at The Dark Lord. Unfortunately for him, his mouth decided to move before he could find the words.
“Um,” immediately The Chosen One turned away, setting a brisk pace back to the portal.
“Wait, wait!” Alan could reach over to bring him back or get in front of him. But that'd just be making a bad situation worse, so Alan stayed a few steps behind him. “Chosen, I–”
“Do not call me Chosen.”
“Okay. Okay.” They were halfway to the portal and Alan needed—no—The Chosen One deserved to hear this. Alan wanted it to be good, concise, but, "I'm sorry!”
His steps stuttered, they didn't stop. But they did slow down.
“I’m so sorry, The Chosen One. You didn't deserve what I did to you. I didn't know—that doesn't matter. You deserved better. Freedom.” They'd reached the portal by now, The Chosen One didn't make any move to leave. Instead he turned, they were face to face now. “But I didn't give that to you and I'll never be able to repay that to you. I will apologize as many times as I can. As you want me to. You can come back for whatever reason you need or–or for no reason at all–or you never have to interact with me again if you don't want to.” His gaze fell to The Dark Lord, still limp, the only sign of life being the subtle breathing, “I'm also sorry to her. I don't know if I'll get to tell her while she's awake, but I'm sorry to her, for creating her with that code. Creating her just to fight you. She deserved more.” He coughed and looked away, “but…if you do come to the PC, please don't bring her.” Alan looked back, holding The Chosen One's eyes, “she kil–hurt the kids. I don't want them to see her again if they don't have to.”
He swallowed and hoped he didn't completely ruin everything with that last part, he stands by it though.
The Chosen One steps closer, “if I find out you hurt any of them…I will kill you.”
His life is being threatened, that's great, not terrifying at all, he's definitely not shaking right now as he nods, “okay.”
The Chosen One holds his stare for another eternity, (again, not even a second) before finally turning away and going through the portal. It closes behind him and Alan lets himself slump.
He's ready to sleep for approximately twenty years.
“Alan?...Alan!!”
His name was yelled by the rest of the kids. He turned to face them only for his vision to be flooded with orange. He stumbled back with the sudden weight on him. Then the weight was off and Orange was standing in front of him, hands still on his shoulders, the other four were right behind them. They all had changed into softer clothes.
“What happened?” They don't remember? “I am so tired. They all told me The Dark Lord was here? And I have superpowers? I don't have superpowers?”
Red was nodding along, though she was currently staring at the viraband Yellow was currently fidgeting with. “I think I would also like to know what happened?” Her attention moved to Orange. She grinned, “But OJ you definitely have superpowers it was awesome you were glowing!” She punctuated her words by throwing her arms up.
Everyone began clamoring in agreement. Orange just threw their arms in their direction, looking at Alan like ‘see?’
“You do have powers, Orange. It's why you're so tired and…maybe it'll be better if I explain tomorrow? We're all exhausted and—”
“I want to know the drama between you and the two weirdos we just met, actually.” Yellow had finally put the viraband away, mostly thanks to Blue who was still eating netherwart.
“You promised you'd explain,” Green said.
“And I will! I just think we should wait until—”
“Today.”
Alan sighed, “all of you agree?”
Yellow nodded, “yup.”
Orange yawned, “just get everything over with today. I'll sleep all of tomorrow.”
Blue just shrugged with a small nod.
Red, who'd been looking at the others, also nodded, “yeah.”
“Alright,” he sighed, dropping to sit crisscrossed on the ground. “I created The Chosen One in 2007, after the first stick I created escaped.”