Chapter Text
Saparata jumped from that tower in the middle of the tundra.
Under the watchful gaze of Ish, who, though he knew he should not interfere with destiny, prayed inwardly that Saps would not do it.
A god prayed that a mere mortal would not commit such a mundane act, that Saps would find a little more strength and not commit suicide, so that the story might have a chance at the heroic ending all the spectators hoped for. But Saps was certain of his decision, more certain than he had ever been in his life.
Saparata jumped to his death anyway. And Ish acted on impulse just to stop him.
His body did not crash into the packed snow, and his suffering did not vanish as he had expected; instead, he found himself falling from a height of one meter onto a white ground, surrounded by nothing but the blue of the infinite sky.
“Jaw” The god vanished from that scene into the snow, searching for his fellow god. “I think… I accidentally sent Saps to another dimension, but I don't know exactly where.”
Was that heaven? Saparata wasn’t sure; he wasn’t sure that someone like him would end up in heaven after dying. He didn’t deserve it.
Saps stood up, looking around in confusion. He noticed a large white throne overlooking the world below; in front of the throne were two strange devices with lights and buttons, placed on a pedestal a considerable distance apart. Saps approached to examine one of those strange things more closely, but a sudden presence appearing behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” It was a blond man, wearing a bandana and a sweatshirt with white, black, and green stripes. He would look like a normal human if it weren’t for the strange circular arrow-shaped halo above his head. “Wait, who are you? And how did you get here?”
“Aren’t I dead?” Saps asked instead. The blond man floated around him, observing him and suddenly looking surprised.
“What? No! This is Parkour Civilization, and I am Evbo, the mighty god of this civilization.”
“What do you mean you can't find him?” A man inside a bunker looked as if he were about to snap the pen in his hands; his eyebrow furrowed deeply and his mouth twisted into a bitter grimace as alternative plans and ideas began to form in his mind.
“We asked around in all the nations of Island One; some confirmed seeing someone resembling Saparata heading toward the tundra, but when we arrived, we only found a tower and a chest with his belongings,” one of his henchmen explained. “No body, no note, nothing at all.”
“Saparata, right? So you're from another civilization. Don't worry, I can help you get back. See those two strange blocks?” The god pointed to the artifacts on the pedestals. “I just need to do some parkour on them, and you'll be able to return home.”
Home
Saparata’s hand shot out toward the sleeve of Evbo’s sweatshirt, stopping him in his tracks. “No—I don’t want to go back. Evbo, let me stay here, please.”
Evbo looked confusedly into the dull eyes that gazed at him with unfathomable sadness. He saw himself in those obsidian eyes, and he agreed.