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Flame was cold. Colder than he’d ever been before.
He was starting to forget how he even ended up in this situation, surrounded in snow and wearing armor that didn’t belong to him. Even trying to remember the past month of his life only leaves him with flashes of dark, lonely nights and a deep ache in his chest until he gives up and stops. It forces him to focus on the present. To keep himself grounded.
And, presently, he was freezing. Which was a bit unusual considering that he typically had a very high average body heat, and he was normally pretty good at keeping it regulated. But now, as the snowflakes continued to fall all over and around him, coming into contact with the bare skin of his hands, face, and neck, he noticed that no such heat or regulation was present. It was like his body was malfunctioning, giving up on him after everything it had been through.
The armor helped though. It was leather that he’d had no choice but to wear after an army of people sent by the Director had attacked him just enough to break every last bit of his spare armor until he was only left with the leather sets they’d dropped when Flame killed them. It was completely impractical, and he would probably die if he got into a real fight with only this armor, but it was all he had. The Director hadn’t given him a chance to breathe the whole time he’d been after Flame, so regearing was completely impossible. At the very least, though, he’d rather be wearing leather armor than completely nothing, so he could take some comfort in that.
The Director moved in front of him, and Flame tensed up, remembering the situation at hand. He’d asked him a question, about what the Director had done to Lomedy, and now it seemed the Director was about to answer.
Flame almost didn’t want to hear what was about to be said. He’d been there when Lomedy had died, seen the death message with his own eyes. If something else had been at play… if Lomedy was involved, manipulated, or threatened by the Director before he died… Flame wasn’t sure what he would do. He was nearing the limit of grief he could handle already, given Lomedy’s death and everything the Director had put him through. If there was even more pressure put on his heart, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take it without breaking.
Unfortunately though—or maybe it was fortunate in some twisted way—Flame’s theory got proven wrong once the Director actually answered his question. He was wrong, but only because the truth was worse than he’d imagined.
“Flame…” the grating sound of the voice changer crackled through the air before the Director pulled out a bucket of milk. Bringing it to his lips, the invisibility began to fade, revealing… what?
Flame stopped breathing. He wanted to look away, if only to delay the inevitable acceptance of the reality that he was seeing. The sight in front of him too bizarre, too impossible to process. Surely… there was some sort of mistake? There had to be. Because those eyes, that hair, that laurel wreath… they weren’t the Director’s, they were-
“I am Lomedy.”
Despite having already been getting to that conclusion due to the lack of invis, the words still hit Flame like a fast-moving train. Perhaps it was because there was no more deniability, or perhaps it was because he was hearing Lomedy’s voice again after all this time. Either way, he felt like he was on the verge of collapse.
When Flame finally remembered how to breathe again, he found his breath coming out in shallow bursts, though he really only observed this through the visual effect it left in the air, as his lips had gone mostly numb by this point.
He was still trying to wrap his head around just what he was actually seeing. Lomedy wasn’t dead. He’d somehow survived and was now standing in front of Flame, breathing, and looking at him with the same golden eyes he’d always had. But was he really the same? Because the person in front of Flame was also the Director, the person who had ruined Flame’s life over the past few months. The person who had isolated him from the rest of the server and whittled him down until he was left with nothing but leather armor that he’d been forced to loot from a dead body. Was that really Lomedy? The same Lomedy who abhorred killing and never raised his voice?
That doubt, upon Flame’s realization of what it was, began burning at his skin. He shouldn’t be… Lomedy was- no, is his best friend—the only person Flame could always trust. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. His relief that Lomedy is still alive should be stronger than any hesitance to look at him the same as before. Because Lomedy was all he had. Him being alive was what mattered.
“Flame, there was a moment that changed everything.”
Lomedy’s voice cut through the air and broke Flame’s thoughts, causing him to squint his eyes through the perpetual snow to try and get a better look at the other man while he spoke. He almost wanted to step closer but he knew he shouldn’t. If it was just a few months ago, Flame wouldn’t have given it a second thought, as he’d trusted Lomedy with his life as his best friend. But now, knowing Lomedy had been the Director, it was a little different. There was a whole side to him that Flame had never seen before, making him completely unpredictable. And, given his leather armor, Flame couldn’t afford to take any chances.
“We were being attacked by the Law, do you remember that?” Lomedy continued, tilting his head slightly as he stared, almost unblinkingly, at Flame. “We were heavily outnumbered, and we were forced to surrender. You used that opportunity to escape and leave me to get arrested.”
Flame held back a wince at the reminder. He still felt bad about that incident, that he wasn’t strong enough and was forced to leave his friend behind. It weighed on him heavily when he was training to get stronger. But, he’d been under the assumption for a while now that that was in the past. Flame had apologized and the two of them had moved on, hadn’t they?
“It was in that moment, Flame, that I realized you were a danger to anyone you came into contact with, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I couldn’t save the countless people you hurt and killed, and I couldn’t even save myself from you as I was thrown into that dark cell in the Law prison.” Lomedy took a step forward and, despite how much he felt like he should, Flame didn’t step back. He didn’t move at all actually, trying to keep as still as possible for a reason he couldn’t really describe. “I had a lot of time to think when I was in that cell, and I realized that this had been happening, and would just keep happening over and over again unless I did something about it. Unless I stopped being powerless to save everyone from you.”
Flame swallowed thickly, trying his best to hide the movement so Lomedy didn’t notice he had any sort of reaction. He didn’t even know… Had Lomedy really thought of him like that this whole time? Like he was some sort of… some sort of…
“I care about you Flame, I really do.” Lomedy took another step forward, and Flame remained unmoving. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about why I’m doing this. It’s not because I feel the need to help the server or anything like that. It’s because I care about you. You’re my best friend, Flame. I just want to help you.” He took in a breath. Another step forward, another refrain from stepping back. “Because I know, at the rate you’re going, your curse of harming everyone around you will extend to yourself, and you’re going to end up killing yourself, Flame.”
Those final words were spoken so harshly in contrast to the previous ones that Flame found himself instinctively taking a step back before he could stop himself, the snow crunching softly beneath his feet. And then he felt bad. Because he shouldn’t be feeling like that in regards to Lomedy. He shouldn’t feel the need to back away from him.
Lomedy didn’t seem to pay Flame’s action any mind though, aside from stepping forward to replace their previous distance of around two blocks. “So I came up with a plan,” Lomedy breathed, almost as if he was getting something off his chest. “I took one of your dogs, and then named it Lomedy before hiding it in the ground where I knew the explosion would go off. Then, the dog got killed in my place while I stasied out, convincing you that I had died. It was in that moment, Flame, that the Director was born.”
Flame took in a shaky breath, brows knitting together as he tried to wrap his head around what he’d just learned. “You… faked your death? Why would you…” He met Lomedy’s gaze, and the lack of life in those previously-golden eyes made them appear almost gray. It was unsettling. He cleared this throat, trying to ignore the ache that was beginning to take root, and tried again. “Why would you go that far just to-”
“I had to Flame,” Lomedy cut him off. “Becoming the Director was the only way to achieve my goal. I needed to learn everything about you, to see what you would do in certain situations, and to find out how you worked under pressure.” He leaned forward slightly, and it was only then, up close, that Flame noticed the flowers of Lomedy’s laurel wreath were dead. Which was a shame, and he found his lips forming a frown because Lomedy used to take such good care of it. It was one of his most prized possessions.
“Now, I know how you work,” Lomedy spoke again, pulling Flame’s attention back to him, “and I can start the next part of my plan.”
Flame felt his blood run cold, which was impressive considering that his body temperature was already well below what it should be. But if Lomedy had more to his ‘plan’ then did that mean he was going to go back to being the Director? Flame didn’t… he’d just gotten Lomedy back, if he had to go back to being someone else… what was Flame even supposed to do? Would it be different now that he knew Lomedy was the director?
“What…” Flame willed himself to speak, not liking how his voice seemed quieter than normal. “What plan bro?”
For the first time since he’d revealed himself, Lomedy smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes though. Didn’t even get close. “My plan to protect everything from you. To protect the server, the people, the animals, myself, and of course, you. All of those things,” he let out a breath that lingered in the cold air, temporarily masking Lomedy’s face from Flame, “will be safe when I finish this.”
Another fresh chill washed over Flame’s frozen body as he took in the words just spoken to him. He… he didn’t want to assume, but based on the way Lomedy was speaking, it seemed like he was planning on… “Are you saying…” Flame swallowed. He hadn’t even spoken the words yet but still, they burned his throat. “...you’re going to kill me?”
He didn’t want to think of Lomedy in such a way. That he would ever do something like that. But as it stood, that was the only thing Flame could imagine that would fit what Lomedy was trying to do. And as someone who’d always valued preserving his life at the forefront of everything, a seed of defensiveness, and maybe a bit of worry, was starting to take root in Flame’s mind. He wasn’t in any condition to protect himself, or even fight back—if he dared to raise a hand against Lomedy, which wasn’t the most likely at this point. He’d just gotten Lomedy back mere minutes ago. Flame couldn’t see a scenario where he would allow even the slightest chance of Lomedy dying again. He’d already made that mistake once.
These thoughts were diverted when the tilt of Lomedy’s head caught Flame’s attention just as he began to speak. “Kill you? Flame, I would never do that. I have morals, and you’re my friend, don’t be stupid.”
Flame relaxed a fraction at that. Or at least, as relaxed as he could be in his current situation. “Then what are you going to do?”
Lomedy wordlessly took another step forward, peering at Flame’s face as if he were studying it. This lasted for a good ten seconds before, just as Flame was about to ask what he was doing, he turned and began walking somewhere off in the distance. “Follow me,” he instructed, tone far more serious than before.
A gust of wind blew by, stinging Flame’s cheeks as he realized he was hesitating. He hadn’t moved his foot for some reason.
But that wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. And as Lomedy’s figure grew the slightest bit distant, never once looking back as he walked on, a sharp wave of fear took over Flame’s chest and he quickly scrambled to catch up to him.
Because if he lost sight of Lomedy, who’s to say Flame would ever find him again? He couldn’t take that chance. Not after he’d already lost him once.
So, Flame followed close behind Lomedy, making sure to never get more than a few blocks away at all times, until they came upon a large obsidian structure.
Lomedy didn’t answer when Flame attempted to ask what it was or where they were, instead just pressing forward into a three by three hole in the wall. He did stop once he got in though, instead gesturing for Flame to walk further inside. And, when he did, his ears picked up on the sound of obsidian being placed behind him, but he tried to ignore it. Any doubt that rose up about where he was and what was going on was shoved down just as quick as it came up because Flame was certain that he shouldn’t be doubting his best friend.
So to distract himself from whatever his emotions were planning on doing, Flame began looking around the interior of the obsidian structure.
It was a lot different than he expected. He figured something that was made out of all obsidian would be relatively similar on the inside. Or maybe be some sort of prison-like thing.
Flame shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. Lomedy wouldn’t lock him in a prison, that was ridiculous.
Anyway, the structure was not similar on the inside, and had quite the shocking contrast. There might have been a slice of every biome possible in this place, and there was room enough too. It was huge. Larger than it had looked on the outside. Which was an insane feat if Lomedy had built it by himself, and Flame was starting to feel his spirits raise at the thought that Lomedy might have built them this whole place so they could have a stacked base to live in. Especially since Flame didn’t currently have one after it had been destroyed by the Director. And now that he was thinking about it, perhaps that was intentional so Flame could live here instead.
So at these thoughts, Flame quickened his pace and walked further in, taking in the sights. He’d noticed too that there was some sort of structure in the middle that didn’t have any visible use, so he started for that, wanting to check it out.
Before he could make it there though, Lomedy spoke up for the first time in a while from behind him. “Stop. You don’t wanna go in there.” Turning around, Flame found him approaching from the now closed-off area they’d come in from. He was still holding the obsidian. “That area is a prison I designed in case you were unwilling to come with me.” As he continued to approach, he smiled, and Flame couldn’t help but notice that it again didn’t reach his eyes. “But you are willing, so we don’t need that.” He stopped in front of Flame, still smiling with nothing behind it. “You get to stay out here.”
Flame’s mouth went dry, and he looked at Lomedy for a few seconds before asking, “Prison? What… Why would you need a prison bro? That’s…” he laughed uncertainly, because surely Flame had just heard him wrong. “I mean like… why would you need to keep me here?”
Lomedy’s expression shifted and he took another step forward, forcing Flame to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from stepping back. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that making any move away wouldn’t be good at the moment.
“Why would I need to keep you here?” Lomedy parroted, looking at Flame curiously, “Flame, this is part of my plan. In order to keep everyone safe from you, including us, I’m keeping you in here, away from the outside world.”
“You’re…?” Flame looked around, realizing that the obsidian walls may not have been a strange aesthetic choice, but instead might be there to keep him from leaving. The structure in the middle was a prison, but so was this. And it was designed so that the part they were in, with all the biomes, would be more appealing than the smaller prison in the middle. Making it seem like a better deal.
Lomedy seemed to have thought about this more than Flame had ever imagined.
“So you’re just gonna…” This time, Flame actually did step away, not able to stop himself anymore. Being imprisoned was the last thing he wanted, even if Lomedy was there. Surely he could be reasoned-
“Don’t look so upset bro,” Lomedy rolled his eyes in a way that was probably supposed to be playful. “We’ve based together before, this will be just like old times!” He gestured to the area around them. “We have everything we need here, we can build a world together. A world where you can’t hurt anyone, and I don’t have to worry about you hurting anyone ever again.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Come on, relax, Flame, we’re safe.”
Flame only found himself tensing up even more at Lomedy’s words. He did a decent job at making this place seem okay to live in. But Flame couldn’t just… “Yeah, but… I don’t have a choice? You’re not going to let me leave if I want to?”
Lomedy shook his head as if what Flame was saying was completely absurd. “Obviously not bro. You’re staying in here.” He then began walking towards the staircase that ran up the side of the smaller prison in the middle. “Follow me. Now that we’ve gotten that cleared up, there’s just one more thing we need to do before we can start building our world.”
Watching Lomedy make his way up the stairs, Flame stayed standing in place, debating on if he should follow. This whole thing was starting to make his head spin. He didn’t know what to do about being trapped. It had never happened to him on a level this serious. And what was worse, this place was so easy to escape it was almost taunting him. The only thing stopping Flame was Lomedy. If it had been anyone else, Flame could have just killed them and left. But Lomedy was different. Flame couldn’t kill him, and Lomedy seemed to know that as well. He even designed this prison around that fact. So what could he even do?
“Flame,” Lomedy’s voice called out from the stairs. “You’re following me.”
Flame took a deep breath and forced his feet to move. It felt like each step he took was placing him farther and farther away from any chance of seeing the rest of the world ever again, but still. He had to listen to Lomedy. It was just what felt right.
When they reached the top of the tower, two double chests were waiting for them. “What is this?” Flame asked, trying not to let his eyes wander to the view of the outside world just beyond the obsidian wall.
“I think we need a fresh start,” Lomedy supplied, opening the chest in front of him. “So we’re going to be clearing our inventories.” Flame opened his chest and found it halfway filled with cakes. “And I know you won’t, but don’t try anything,” Lomedy added. “Those cakes are in there for a reason.”
Flame stared into the chest, realizing that if he went through with this, his fate was sealed. He wouldn’t be able to escape without harming Lomedy after this point.
He glanced over at Lomedy calmly placing his items in the chest, shoulders completely relaxed. He didn’t seem worried at all that Flame would do anything. It was like he completely trusted him with his life. The thought was beginning to make Flame sick. He didn’t want to stay trapped, but he didn’t want to leave Lomedy either, not after everything they’d been through.
So it seemed his options were to stay trapped with Lomedy, or be free without him. And after glancing at his best friend one last time, Flame made up his mind.
He picked up a cake.