Chapter Text
Wemmbu used the burst of wind underneath him to catch the air, sailing up and looking down at the players beneath him. Suspended in air with just a few moments to take in the scenery, he let his eyes wander.
Hundreds of lawmen swarmed beneath him, reminding Wemmbu of the time that Egg broke a bee hive and the swarm chased them for hundreds of blocks. The Law has been like that since the beginning, though, if he thought about it. Ever since Lettuce made eye contact with Wemmbu in that lava-filled chamber, surrounded by Law and trained on both him and Flame, they had not stopped hunting since. Thinking about it now, that was when the proverbial “bee hive” was broken, and Wemmbu’s been followed for millions of blocks since.
Fucking Lettuce, Wemmbu internally groaned, looking down at the sea of netherite players. Where does he even find so many players willing to die?
“Yo, lock in!” Minute called below him, blocking another strike from the player in front of him. It was some commander; the self proclaimed ‘God of War’ or maybe Leowook. Wemmbu wasn’t really sure what Leo’s stake in the game was, but Spoke seemed to hate him pretty bad, so that was enough for him. “Wemmbu, hello?”
Wemmbu blinked.
“Oh,” he said simply, diving down to smash the player in front of Minute with his mace, making sure to close his mouth against the spray of blood that followed. He was entirely sure that his whole face had to be covered after the hours of fighting, but the fresh feeling of it still made him gag theatrically. “Oh my god,” Wemmbu shook his head, watching the body in front of him slump comically, “he really should have had a helmet.”
Minute looked at him equally affronted and disgusted, offering a small “thanks, bro” before setting off to fight the next person.
Sighing, Wemmbu used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood. It was definitely making it worse, but he didn’t really care. If anything, the lawmen who stumbled upon him—covered head to toe in blood and vicsera—hesitate to fight him. It was an intimidation technique, Egg said.
The mace was a gross weapon, but it was Wemmbu’s. He knew Flame didn’t like it because it “lacked tact and skill,” or whatever the hell the player said, but Wemmbu thought the overly excessive gore kind of added to the fun. What was more scary, a fighter like Flamefrags who was entirely clean with the exception of his sword, or, a fighter like Wemmbu, who was covered in red by the end of fights? He may be a bit biased, but the latter sounded way cooler.
He smiled, knowing it also added to the intimidation, and turned toward the nearest lawman. They looked horrified, watching the blood slowly ooze out of the netherite player lying on the floor. Must be a newbie.
“Yeah, that’s you next,” Wemmbu said with complete sincerity, trying his best to hold in his laugh. The lawman looked at him with unabashed horror, his hands shaking as he held up his sword.
Before they could respond, Wemmbu saw the edge of a blade pierce through their chest, causing them to let out one ragged sigh before collapsing. As he fell, Wemmbu saw Flame, sword outstretched, watching him and looking wholly unimpressed.
“Can you lock in, Wemmbu? Standing there like we don’t have hundreds of players after us-” Flame tched, digging the point of his sword into the ground and leaning on it. “Just use more of your stupid nukes or something.”
“You know that doing that dulls the blade, right?” Wemmbu stuck out his tongue, throwing his sword out to catch the lawman to his left, not even noticing as it took the head completely off the poor player. “And also: my nukes aren’t stupid.”
“Whatever bro,” Flame sighs out, sending a bow shot at Wemmbu’s head and- rude! That was at Wemmbu’s head!
Just in the nick of time, Wemmbu ducks and the arrow lodges itself into someone else, hopefully a law person and not an ally.
“Warn me next time,” Wemmbu says flippantly, not really meaning it. But, just to prove his point, he pulls out a stab shot and aims it for just a few blocks away from Flame’s feet. He mentally counts the seconds until the orbital strikes, making sure that Flame won’t actually die, and smiles. When it goes off, Flame is distracted and sent back a couple blocks from the blast, staring daggers at Wemmbu from where he’s fallen.
Not wanting to stick around and deal with that, Wemmbu laughs and uses one of his few rockets to soar up. Hopefully an angry FlameFrags will choose to take his anger out on lawmen and not Wemmbu—after the fight, all bets were off.
As he’s up in the air, he sees Parrot shooting off rockets, leaving baby blue explosions in their wake. Wemmbu’s never seen Parrot fight with a crossbow before, but it seems to suit him as he leaves blasts in his wake. But, in the moment when the avian is reloading, more lawmen seem to swarm, leaving him surrounded.
Wemmbu doesn’t hate Parrot that much, so he dives down and into the fray, sending a few people flying with the impact of his mace. He lands heavy on his knees—something Wemmbu’s sure he’s going to feel later—and throws himself toward Parrot, leaving them standing back to back. While Parrot is sending off rockets, Wemmbu is parrying attacks meant for colorful wings. As he sends another mace smash, he does his best to shield Parrot’s wings from the ensuing blood spray and is only partially successful. It’s the thought that counts.
“Oh, hey Wemmbu,” Parrot says cooly, obviously trying not to sound as out of breath as he looks.
“Hey Parrot,” Wemmbu answers back just as nonchalantly, throwing a potion at his feet in hopes that Parrot got some of the effects too. He puts up his shield as an axe attempts to take Parrot’s left wing off, just catching the weapon in the nick of time. “I’m surprised you aren’t dead yet, to be honest.”
“Me too, bro,” Parrot laughs back, taking a moment of reprieve to look around the battlefield. “Have you seen Theo?”
“I-” Wemmbu nicks himself on a sword and kicks the legs of the offender, watching them stumble down and fall, “-I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s genuinely performing whole squad kills at this point. I almost feel bad for them.”
“Are you injured?” Parrot sends another volley of rockets just past Wemmbu’s shoulder, hitting a few lawmen. In the background, Wemmbu sees Jaden spear someone with his trident. Good for him!
“Nah,” he answers back.
“Okay dude, ‘cause you’re like- covered in blood.”
“Not mine!”
Parrot looks at him with thinly veiled discomfort, but appears to shake it off. “Whatever bro- if you see Theo, tell him I’m-”
“Dead in a ditch? Okay!” Wemmbu cuts him off, macing a lawman and using the wind draft to sail upwards, grinning at the quick look that Parrot shot him before going back to fighting. Sure, Wemmbu’s going to cooperate and help with fighting—they do all have the same goal, after all—but that doesn’t mean he won’t have fun while doing it. He can’t even remember the last time he fought with a group this big- it was a little hard to pick out teammates from Law. Just a few moments ago, he had to cancel all momentum because he almost slimed out Horace; it was tricky and Wemmbu wasn’t used to it. Egg never fought in any meaningful way, so-
Oh, right. Egg. The whole reason he started flying around in the first place.
Wemmbu searched around the decimated crater that once was the Northern Council, looking for the bright diamond armor of his friend. He was easy to spot because he, one: completely stood out in the sea of netherite, two: had absolutely no helmet on—Wemmbu had genuinely no clue how Egg was still alive—and three: was high above the action in a skybase of sorts, complete with a winding staircase and an enderchest on top.
Gliding down, Wemmbu looked in his inventory and got out a netherite helmet.
“Oh, hey Wemmbu-”
“Put this on,” he sighed, handing Egg the helmet and watching as his friend shrugged and put it on. “I just obliterated a guy who had no helmet on- like, you will genuinely perish against mace users.”
“Okay, but, like you and Minute-” he paused, “-and Jaden and Flame, I guess- you all have maces. The Law doesn’t, right?”
“Dude, all of the commanders do and- maybe Leowook too? Lettuce took one from me, remember?” Wemmbu chided, making use of the ender chest on the platform to root around for more orbital rods. “After the-”
“Ohhh, after the thousand players- yeah, I remember now.” Egg looked around, peering off the edge of the platform, “I actually don’t see him, though. Just Law commanders.”
Wemmbu turned around, hands flitting around his hotbar as he got ready to join the fray again. “Aren’t you supposed to see all? The great and powerful Eggchan-”
“Bro my eyesight is terrible, you know this.”
Wemmbu shrugged, looking off the platform with Egg to see- no Letty. The usual green cape and banner was a give away for finding the leader in a fight, but the caracal hybrid was nowhere to be found. “Egg, that might be bad.”
“What?”
“That we can’t see Lettuce.”
“Why?”
“Because-” Wemmbu sighed theatrically, turning on his heel and throwing his shield up and in front of him and Egg, “-that means he’s above us.”
Almost as if on cue, Lettuce descended from the clouds and down onto Wemmbu’s shield, causing him to stumble back and almost off the ledge. The impact cracked down on the bones in his forearm, causing him to hiss in pain.
“Wemmbu,” he greeted him coldly, continuing to press the mace down on the shield as his elytra wings fanned around them, drawing a dark shadow across the three. Wemmbu’s foot was slipping where it was placed precariously on the edge and a glance over at Egg confirmed the same.
“Letty!” Wemmbu smiled back, pushing as hard as he could on the force of the mace. He turned his head slightly toward Egg and winked. “Egg, you wanna tell him a riddle?”
Egg smiled back, though Wemmbu was unsure if the player knew his plan. He just thinks Egg likes telling riddles.
”I have no voice, yet I speak a thousand-”
“Shut up,” Lettuce groaned back, pushing harder.
“No, Lettuce- answer his riddle!” Wemmbu beamed back, gritting his teeth against the force. When did Lettuce get so strong?
“Yeah, come on man, I try really hard on these-” Egg said calmly, letting humor slip past his words and tilt the corners of his mouth. “It’s okay, I’ll tell you it again: I have no voice, yet-”
Lettuce turned toward Egg angrily and drew back his mace again, letting Wemmbu pull his shield back and gain more traction on the ledge. Egg shrieked, holding his own shield up, but Wemmbu intercepted the blow with one of his own, striking his mace against Lettuce’s armor and throwing the leader back.
“Excellent ragebait, Egg-” Wemmbu complimented, using the small bit of distance between him and Lettuce to charge forward, trading sword strikes with him, “-you might wanna go.”
Egg made a noise of confirmation and took no time to head down the shoddily made stairs, yelling: “Get him, Wemmbu!” on his way down. Wemmbu wasn’t too worried about his friend, though—the Law never seemed to focus on Egg. He didn’t know if it was because Egg blended in so well or if they didn’t see him as an adversary, but Egg always managed to come out of everything unscathed.
Lettuce, of course, was an outsider, because he knew that Wemmbu had no choice to protect his friend- which led to the caracal hybrid specifically targeting Egg, but Wemmbu could deal with little ol’ Lettuce.
“You can’t possibly think you’re on the good side of this, that- that you’re some hero in this story-” Lettuce gritted his teeth, stabbing for Wemmbu’s side and just barely missing.
Wemmbu stood back, letting the both of them steady themselves. “Nah,” he agreed easily, “I don’t think I’m good. I actually know for a fact that I’m not- I, like, really enjoy killing players-” he lunged forward with his sword, relishing in the metal clank of Lettuce’s blocking it, “-probably to a degree that is unhealthy. Egg says I should work on it in therapy, or something.” Wemmbu took the chance to turn around and send some orbitals down to where people were trying to climb up the platform, turning back easily to block against the next attack. “But, Parrot and Spoke and-” he hesitated, “-probably Flame- all have pretty good reasons for this, and so do I.”
Wemmbu opened his mouth to say a little bit more before remembering- oh, yeah, fighting Lettuce, and instead put his whole focus on that instead. Each blow was blocked by Lettuce and vice versa from Wemmbu, both equally matched until some unfortunate timing from Lettuce caused Wemmbu to get the upper hand. With a scowl, the leader dodged out of Wemmbu’s way and jumped off the platform, the crack of the elytra opening being Wemmbu’s only way of knowing if Lettuce survived the fall. Part of him was just hoping Lettuce would splat.
Instead of chasing after him, Wemmbu looked down to try and find Egg; he couldn’t find him, which was probably a good thing. It meant that Egg was either holed up somewhere or found someone to stick next to, like Parrot.
He jumped and flew down, letting his eyes search for Jaden, seeing him and Horace battling a small group of people. They seemed to be handling it, and Wemmbu had full confidence in Jaden as a fighter, so he drifted off to where he heard explosions, setting down on the ground right before Theo set off a blast that killed five or more players. Damn.
“Wemmbu! Have you seen-”
“Parrot? Yeah,” Wemmbu huffed, letting his mace fly down onto a lawman. “He’s fine.”
Theo narrowed his eyes at Wemmbu from behind his sunglasses, looking entirely suspicious of him.
“I’m serious!” Wemmbu threw his hands up, dancing backward as Theo shot another minecart just a few blocks away. “He’s fine and handling things on his own! I checked in on him earlier, sheesh.”
Wiping the sweat away from his brow, Theo grabbed another set of rails from a shulker and looked seriously at Wemmbu. “Thank you.”
“What?”
“Thank you,” Theo said back, as serious as the grave. Wemmbu never knew the avian to be so… genuine. “Thank you for helping him- he’s… not really built for this.”
“Eh,” Wemmbu shrugged, turning around to stab a player, letting the sword lodge itself somewhere between their third and fourth rib. “He seemed pretty alright earlier.”
He didn’t turn around to see Theo’s reaction to that, instead opting for flitting up into the air again, letting loose a few orbital shots where he saw large groups of players. He most definitely accidentally hit Flame with one of them, which- really, he didn’t mean to… probably- but pulled up his communicator and easily saw twenty lawmen die, so- a win nonetheless.
But as he looked at his communicator, he also saw into his inventory and- wow, really did not like what he saw.
Wemmbu was missing close to all of his gapples and potions, and his armor was close to breaking. He didn’t notice before, too busy flying around and checking in on his team, but now? he might be cooked. Hoping to try and get some restocks, he looked up to try and pick out Egg from the shrinking mass of Law, but was unsuccessful. Nonetheless, it looked like the amount of lawmen were getting closer to the amount of Wemmbu’s allies and the fight was soon to end. Maybe Minute still had some resources that he could mooch off of? Minute is basically rich, compared to the rest of them-
An arrow broke through his thoughts and lodged itself in his shoulder, sending him down to the ground in a dizzying spiral. He managed to have his totem in his hand as he fell, keeping his bones from smashing on impact- it still stung like taking the brunt of a mace hit, though. Wemmbu gasped with the feeling and stumbled, looking up at the sky to see Lettuce hot on his tail. Though the amount of people on his team now outnumbered the amount of Law left, it didn’t mean that the fight was over yet.
He tucked and rolled out of the way of Lettuce’s mace, throwing himself back onto his feet to block the next one. Blocking a sword swipe to his face with his forearms, Wemmbu’s arms burned in protest as he held them up, getting them shredded in the process. He blocked the scream wanting to claw up his throat and instead ate the last golden apple he had, feeling the flesh of his arms mend themselves slowly.
Lettuce was more aggressive this time, though—not using the calm swordsmanship techniques like usual, but just slashing with desperation—and immediately went for another strike, leaving Wemmbu off balance as he held up his shield with one hand and cradled the other one closer to his body. When his arm had healed, the sword was back in it, but not quick enough to trade another blow with Lettuce, instead favoring another shield block.
Wemmbu’s shield broke and he let himself squeak out a very manly scream, ducking down from the next sword swipe from Lettuce and throwing his feet to the ground. Oh yeah, he was just gonna run. Fuck it- Lettuce can be someone else’s problem.
“Guys, a little help? Armor? Shield- anything!” Wemmbu yelled out, vaulting over the rubble beneath him and shooting a glance back at Lettuce, who, for all intents and purposes, was chasing after him like a hunting dog. Where usually Wemmbu would be the one chasing someone with a smile, Lettuce grinned manically as he threw himself over every obstacle to get to Wemmbu.
Wemmbu tried to find any rockets or windcharges in his inventory and was woeful to discover not a single one, making him swap his elytra for his almost broken chestplate.
“Oh my god, what’s that over there Lettuce?” he tried to distract him, yelping as a slash caught his left ankle, right between where his leggings and boots met. Wemmbu went down hard rolling out of the way of a blade meant for his head. Instead of rolling onto another hard surface, though, his untimely inertia sent him into a crater, the impact on his back taking the breath from his lungs for a few crucial seconds. He blinked up at the ceiling, the orbital crater partially covered by debris—not a good place to be in for an elytra user.
“Bad looks, Wemmbu,” Lettuce huffed, landing down much more gracefully than Wemmbu, stomping his foot down onto his leg and breaking something in the process. Wemmbu didn’t give him the liberty of hearing him scream, but it was a near thing as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes and blood welled on his lip where he bit it.
His hands scrambled for purchase on the dirt beneath him as he tried to get up. “Lettuce, there’s no more Law left- the last few are getting hunted down as we speak-”
“As I speak, you mean,” Lettuce corrected, letting Wemmbu be confused for a moment until his sword stabbed cleanly down into Wemmbu’s abdomen.
Wemmbu screamed silently with the pain, blacking out for a moment before coming back, staring up at Lettuce in pain and shock and fear-
“No more gapples, right?” Lettuce smiled, losing the animalistic fervor from before and putting on his calm voice. “No more totem’s either.”
Wemmbu’s hands came to hold where Lettuce’s sword was still implanted in him, the blade having gone clean through and stabbed into the soft dirt beneath him. He opened his trembling lips to say something back, maybe to bluff, but Lettuce shushed him.
“I’ve been watching throughout the fight, you know? Watching to see how many resources-” he pushed down on the hilt of the sword to sink it further into soft earth. Wemmbu wheezed. “-and how many items you used. You tend to fight differently when you get down to low supplies.”
Lettuce continued, speaking like he was explaining something to a child. “You change the way you act in order to conserve resources- and you’ve been doing it for every fight I’ve seen.”
Blood pooled and flowed between his fingers where he was trying to keep pressure, making his hands sticky and warm. Wemmbu tried to search for people moving above them, but the debris from above shielded his view- it was entirely possible for players above to not see him.
“So I know you don’t have anything,” Lettuce smiled softly, letting go of the sword to squat down. He cocked his head, finger trailing the edge of the blade still visible before it entered Wemmbu. “The Law is over- I know. Everyone is dead and your friends will probably kill me too. But-” he paused, looking upward and out of the crater, “-I can still kill you.”
“I-” Wemmbu rasped, feeling his hands twitch with the effort of keeping pressure. “-I feel like your energy would be better spent with Flame-”
Lettuce let his face fall into a frown as he pushed the sword to the left, jostling where it sat in Wemmbu’s guts. Wemmbu, in turn, let out a wet sob. “Why can’t you just let me have this? You have ruined everything I have worked for on this server,” Lettuce let the last part of his words go quiet in silent anger. He sounded almost- sad.
Defeated, despite the fact that he was holding the sword currently buried in Wemmbu.
Anything Wemmbu could say would just be wasted energy, so he refrained from quipping back. His hands shook as his shirt started to soak straight through with warm crimson. Lettuce waited for Wemmbu, probably expecting something witty and clever to come out of his mouth, but stood as he realized Wemmbu had nothing to say.
Not even bothering to dignify Wemmbu with a goodbye, Lettuce equipped his elytra and sailed up and out of the crater, leaving Wemmbu alone at the bottom. The sound of rockets shooting out and whizzing farther and farther away made something relax in him. Now alone, Wemmbu let the tears fall. He tried to reach into his inventory for anything- literally anything, but Lettuce was right: he had nothing to help him. No healing potions, no golden apples, no totems- nothing. He only had his weapons and a few blocks from picking up stuff from the orbital’s explosions
Weakly, Wemmbu took in a few shuddering breaths.
Natural regeneration would be slow, but might be enough- only if he could get the sword out. But Lettuce had pushed it far into the ground beneath Wemmbu, the hilt of the sword just a few inches from Wemmbu’s stomach, and it was impossible to budge without the leverage of sitting up- which was impossible in his state.
Fuck.
Wemmbu wasn’t above calling for help at this point- Flame could make fun of him later.
“Egg-” his voice cracked, coming out quiet before he could take in a larger breath, “Egg!”
His voice reverberated throughout the crater—the crater he made with his orbitals—and played back to him cruelly, like a record stuck replaying his sad excuse of a shout. Wemmbu let his head hit the ground, closing his eyes against the pain.
“Egg! Jaden- Flame!?” He tried again, coughing wetly as the force of doing so moved the sword.
He had no idea if his voice travelled far enough; if they were still fighting Lettuce, the leader might be leading them away from where Wemmbu is- which is… Not good. The only person that would notice him being gone is probably Egg, but his ability to find Wemmbu in the past has not been even close to being good—knowing Eggchan’s eyesight, the player probably can’t even see the whole battlefield.
So, he’s screwed.
…
Distantly, Wemmbu realized that this was probably it.
After everything he’d been through: civilizations, wars, betrayals- none of it mattered now. Wemmbu was dying.
Wemmbu was dying.
And he was doing it alone.
A tear dripped down his cheek. Wemmbu mustered the energy to wipe it away, but realized his hand was covered in blood only after the fact. Actually- scratch that, he’s been covered in blood. Every single mace hit and flashy sword slash has probably drenched the majority of himself and his clothes- the thought made him huff, and then giggle, and then cough out a laugh, basking in the stupidity of it. He was dying and all he could think about was how he’s probably painted in red. His hair is probably matted in red and his tiara must be fully covered.
If they found his body, would they even know where all the blood came from? Could they pinpoint the injury? Sure, he has a giant, Law embossed sword sticking out of his abdomen, but Flame is pretty dense.
Would they see the fresh blood from wiping his cheek?
Were there tear tracks through the blood, he wondered?
Wemmbu’s smile fell.
He closed his eyes.
He felt the breeze drifting down into the crater tickle the wisps of purple hair that had come loose while fighting. The smell of blood, death, and gunpowder hung in the air as the taste of iron permeated through his mouth. Wemmbu thought he could almost hear Spoke’s voice in the wind. Frowning, he thought about how cruel it was that he was hallucinating Spoke’s voice out of anyone’s. Why would–
Wait.
No- no, he can definitely hear Spoke. Like, actually hear his voice.
Letting his heavy eyelids part open, Wemmbu trailed his sight to the gap in the crater, watching it earnestly.
“Spoke,” he called, probably quieter than what he should have. Luckily, the player seemed to hear it.
“Wemmbu?”
Wemmbu closed his eyes again. They were too heavy to keep open-
“W- Wemmbu?!”
He heard the thump of someone landing down beside him, accompanied by a few more.
“Hey, buddy,” Spoke murmured, sounding very much concerned. Wemmbu felt Spoke’s knee’s tap against where Wemmbu laid and opened his eyes, meeting the bright white sclera of Spoke’s. “It’s all good, just- just keep your eyes open, yeah?”
Wemmbu blinked lazily. He wanted to say something back, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating.
He saw the bright flash of Parrot at his other side, wings fanning out as he looked over Wemmbu with blatant worry, paler than when Wemmbu almost killed him that one time. He studied Wemmbu like a puzzle, eyes taking in the dazed look on Wemmbu’s face and the sword embedded in his guts. Why did Parrot look so scared? The reason was escaping Wemmbu.
“Does-” Parrot stumbled over his words, looking up, “-does anyone have any totems?”
Wemmbu recognized the blurry for above him to be Minute, the all black blob most closely resembling the player. Why was Minute blurry? Was Wemmbu still crying? “No, I can try to go find some from Law bodies,” he said quickly, not even waiting for an answer before shooting up and out of the crater.
“Wemmbu?” Flame’s voice danced around him—Wemmbu was having a hard time placing where it was coming from.
Wemmbu opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then tried again. His mouth felt slow as he tried to feel around the words on his tongue. “Lett- ‘c?”
“He ran-” Parrot answered back, pressing his hands into where Wemmbu was keeping pressure earlier—apparently Wemmbu had stopped doing that… some time ago—and he keened, whining against the fresh pain. “Theo marked the direction he went in, so-”
“Don’t worry about that, bro,” Flame’s voice cut in, warm hands holding his cheeks. The player was sitting next to Wemmbu’s head, hands keeping his face tilted up. Distantly, Wemmbu remembered Flame saying something when the two of them had met at his base before the battle with a thousand players- something about keeping someone’s head up so they don’t choke on blood . “You gotta stay alive so we can have another rematch, alright? I’m going to slime the fuck out of Jaden and you’ve gotta be there to see it. You- you’ve lost a lot of blood, Wemmbu.”
“N’t lost-” Wemmbu slurred out, blinking his eyes open lazily, “-I. Know where m’ blood ‘s.”
“Yeah, bro- on the ground,” Flame replied incredulously, huffing a small laugh out. “Bro’s bleeding out, saying ‘I know where my blood is-’ Genuinely can’t take anything seriously, huh?”
Wemmbu closed his eyes again, smiling faintly- though, it might be a grimace- it’s hard to tell.
“Wemmbu? Bro- keep your eyes open-”
“God, is Minute back yet?”
“Is he going to be okay?” Jaden’s voice cut through the others.
“Is he-? Bro, he’s Wemmbu- he like, is always annoyingly fine.” Flame.
“Buddy, can you open your eyes?” Spoke.
“I have gapps, can we-?” Theo’s voice trailed off.
“It won’t do anything- he can’t regenerate if the sword is still in him, and if we take it out-” Parrot cuts himself off.
“He dies,” Zam finishes, his voice stilted and harsh. How many people were around Wemmbu now?
“I- I’ll go help Minute.” Jumper.
“Flame, can you-” Parrot.
Warm hands that hardly even register get warmer, almost to the point of discomfort, tilting his head up and back. Wemmbu flits his eyes open to see Flame’s concerned face.
“If you die on us, I’ll kill you.”
I’ll already be dead, dumbass, is what Wemmbu would say if he had enough energy to get the words out. Instead, he closes his eyes again and drifts off.