Chapter Text
This absolutely wasn't like the movies.
In movies, you get sent to a pitch black room with cement floors and the cliche, faint sound of water dripping from an unknown source. Then, you're tortured or immediately die in some painful way.
But to Firey’s surprise, he wasn't receiving that treatment.
The room was decorated simply - two plush chairs facing each other, separated by a coffee table. There were miscellaneous pieces of furniture, each set intentionally at the edge of the room. Firey’s orange bag was lazily tossed against the chair farthest from him. A faint scent of incense flooded Firey's senses - the smokey and earthy notes were eerily comforting.
Oh yeah, and the place was a wreck. Books thrown about, fuzz ripped from one of the chairs, and broken mirror shards scattered the floor.
If it wasn't for the fact that Firey was exhausted from his travels, lonely and homesick - Firey would've had something to say about the layout of the room. He’d definitely want to know how the room became such a mess. Yet, with the threat of impending doom pressing onto Firey’s shoulders - the details around him faded into background noise.
To add to the absurdity, Firey was on the floor. That alone wasn't special. He often delegated himself to the ground so he didn't accidentally set things on fire or hurt others.
But this was different. Firey’s arms were engulfed in a tingling pressure, held in place by a force he couldn't see, nor feel. His life had been pretty strange up until this point, but the past 16 months might have outdone everything.
Firey was frazzled and exhausted. It had been a lot of running from place to place - the final episode of BFB, finding Dreamier Island, getting settled, and then losing Leafy. After Leafy’s disappearance, Firey found himself tense all of the time and now was no exception.
Eventually, Firey bowed to his fatigue - allowing himself to slump forward and sprawl his limbs out as much as he could with them being restrained. Sleep crawled its way into his body like lead weights. He had reached his point where he couldn't fight the sleep his body desperately needed. Besides, sleep promised dreams of Dreamier Island, games of tic-tac-toe, and-
“Hello Firey!” Someone chirped in a sing-song voice.
I mean, Firey would've slept.
Firey tore his eyes open - he wasn't even sure when he closed them. Another number - One it seemed - appeared in front of him.
Firey felt dizzy. He had always felt somewhat conflicted about the algebraliens. On one hand, Firey was skeptical about their unpredictability. Other than that, they usually weren't that bad.
X was nice enough - the more emotionally intelligent of the two. Four could be gruff and strange sometimes. But, they had to have Four and X. They're the only ones with the ability to recover everyone!
Firey wondered if there were more numbers - obviously, considering the blue number in front of him. Did they all have powers? Firey couldn't help but wonder if this number’s appearance had anything to do with Leafy’s disappearance. Or if One had anything to do with the environmental desecration - where all of the foliage was killed and the water was turned into sludge.
Firey shook his cynicism away - he was trying to be nicer.
“Uh, Hi? I guess…” Firey trailed off, his suspicion rising.
He glanced around again, avoiding the number’s burning stare. One’s smile was unphased.
“Who are you? Why am I here?” Firey asked.
“Great questions. Id be happy to answer them!” The number responded, her voice sweet.
Firey could've sworn he sensed something darker lying below the tone in her voice. It vaguely reminded him of the tone Leafy used when she was upset about something but trying to be nonchalant about it. A pristine(ish) outside appearance, and bubbling irritation on the inside. However with Firey - Leafy’s irritation typically morphed into an underlying sea of sadness.
Firey shivered at that thought - he hoped Leafy didn't think that Firey abandoned her again.
“First, I’m here to help! I've been watching you all for a while,” One started, “And things just never seem to go your way, do they?”
“...What?”
At Firey’s blatant confusion, the number smirked, “Oh y'know - the competition, being eliminated, everything about …. Her.”
Firey perked up at that. Firey had been a wallflower for most of the competition. With the rare exception of Match or Coiny, he wasn't extremely close with anyone else. So of course she was most likely talking about-
“Leafy! Leafy - she's my friend!” Firey started, “Do you know where-”
“Friend? Interesting,” One spoke, shifting her weight onto one leg, “After everything she did, you still consider her a friend?”
Firey felt himself burning with irritation and shame - he didn't need to answer her question. He didn't owe an explanation to anyone about who he was friends with!
“... Yeah. I do,” Firey said confidently, “I didn't realize how much I missed her until I had her back.”
One scoffed, “Figures.”
Firey could feel a bitter retort rising in his throat. Why would One ask if she didn't want him to answer?
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Firey snapped.
“It's pathetic honestly - she stole Dream Island,” One counted.
Oh for fucks sake - this again.
“Not only did she steal Dream Island,” One continued with a smirk, “But then she lost it!”
The number burst into obnoxious laughter - Firey could feel his already short patience dwindling.
“How does someone lose an Island?” One snickered to herself, out of breath.
He gritted his teeth and shifted his gaze onto the floor. Honestly, Firey himself never got an answer to that question.
When Firey and Leafy had made up, it became an unspoken rule that the past wasn't to be brought up.
Or at least, he made it his own rule not to.
Once, while talking with one of the other contestants at the Pillary Ruins, someone had mentioned Yoyleland and BFDIA. Firey remembered the way Leafy deflated - clenching her jaw and biting back emotions that had clearly been festering for a long time.
Seeing that, Firey figured no answer was as good as any when it came to questions about the past. He never got closure to where the original Dream Island went - and he resolved himself into being okay with that.
One cleared her throat, bringing back Firey’s attention to the blue number in front of him.
“Listen Firey - I can give you Dream Island back,” One started, “In return, I have a-”
“No - actually not just no. Absolutely not,” Firey cut One off.
“You do realize I'm talking about the original right?” One sputtered back, a sneer on her face.
“Yes, and still no.” Firey cut the number off again.
Contempt flashed across One’s face. Firey felt his confidence stagger as the silence ticked along.
“You don't actually like that shitty Island, do you?” One sneered.
“Y'know what? No, not yet,” Firey hoped nobody was watching him struggle to pull together a grand motivational speech. Typically, that was Leafy’s job.
“It needs a lot of work, but finding the island made Leafy happy! …and that made me feel happy as well,” Firey smiled to himself.
He forced his eyes to meet the number’s again, “I don't know who you are, or what you want - but I'm trying to find Leafy, my friend.”
Wait, no! Not grand enough!
“My BEST friend.” He glowed.
In an underwhelming turn of events, they sat in silence for a moment. Firey could feel himself sweating under the number’s intense stare, his sweat dissipating with a quiet hiss. One kept his gaze, her face twisting into something that vaguely mimicked amusement.
“Cute,” One rolled her eyes.
The number took a deep breath, “Firey, like I said before - I'm here to help!”
The number snapped, a window of sorts appearing off to her left.
Firey could've sobbed. A familiar little leaf was displayed on the screen, sitting on a rock and poking at the dirt with a stick. As far as Firey could tell, she looked uninjured. However, Leafy’s usual grin and bouncy demeanor were replaced by something much more somber.
One flicked her limb in the window’s direction, “I'd be happy to take you to her.”
“Leafy! She's okay! Whew,” Firey felt his unease lift just a bit, “Thank you, I-”
The number scoffed again, “Well, not without something in return.”
Firey felt his brain reset, “I-Uh what?”
The number took a few strides closer, Firey’s unease crashing down onto him once again.
“Ive got this silly little piece of paper,” One smiled, “Sign it, and I'll take you straight to her.”
She gently set down a paper in front of him. Firey felt the tingly weight lift off his limbs, his invisible restraints falling away.
“You've both got some lost time to catch up on,” One said sweetly.
“I-I don't know,” Firey surprised even himself with that one.
The next thought slipped off of his tongue before he could stop it, “Like, what happens next?”
Now, Firey couldn't stop spitting out his worries, “Why do you-”
The number cut him off, “I won't ask again, Firey.”
“Sign the paper and find your friend… or whatever you both are,” One trailed off.
Firey clamped his mouth shut, his body flaring blue for a heartbeat.
“...and I'll take you to her. Simple as that,” The number concluded.
Firey knew signing the paper was stupid - it was too good to be true. He wrestled with the idea of going through with this in his mind. The number was right - Firey missed Leafy. He owed it to her to find her. She had chased after him, even after all the time where he had ignored her - Firey owed it to her to do the same.
But, what was in that contract? In Firey’s haste to find Leafy, could he unintentionally put her in more danger?
“Too late,” One said flatly.
Panic rose to the back of Firey’s throat, “Wait! I-”
As he went to stand up, the pressure returned to his arms. He was pinned once more. Firey could feel tears stinging the corner of his eyes.
The number stood up, taking a few paces back and returning to where she stood just a few moments ago.
One turned her body away from the flame, “Yknow, its funny - Leafy wouldn't hear me out either,” One spoke softly.
Firey could hear the venom dripping in her voice. He felt himself getting more desperate at the number's mention of his friend. Firey felt like he was drowning - unable to get his limbs to work with him and clawing at the surface for a breath of fresh air.
“Maybe, she'll listen to you instead,” The number smiled back at Firey.
Before Firey could even begin to process what One had said - the number melted down into a puddle of blue sludge on the floor. It stilled for a moment, before taking shape again.
To Firey’s utmost horror, the goop settled into something almost his own height. The cornflower blue shifted its hue into a sickening green and yellow before finally settling on a very familiar orange.
The goop hissed, evaporating as fire spread on the figure - a mirror image of himself now staring back at Firey.
“Call it a ‘two birds with one stone’ type of thing huh?” Firey’s own voice said back at him, flashing a toothy smirk in his direction.
Firey couldn't help but shiver and stare.
One hissed through her teeth, “Tough crowd.”
The number, now a replica of himself, turned away, walking away from the real Firey.
Firey fought against his restraints, “No! Wait! What are you doing??”
One bent over, grabbing Firey’s backpack and straightening the green bandana that had been delicately tied on the front. She sent another a sharp smirk over to Firey that made him nauseous. The copycat flame slung Firey’s bag over her shoulder.
The flame in front of him stretched, “I do have to admit, it is a little strange having arms though,”
Firey felt a crushing weight on his chest - his heart being torn to shreds.
“Please, I just got her back,” Firey begged, “I'll sign the thing - Just please don't ruin what I've fixed!”
One, in Firey’s own body, turned and flashed him a smile identical to his own.
“Too little. Way too late.”
And just as suddenly as she appeared, One was gone.