Chapter Text
The day on the Last Life server had been almost unnervingly calm.
Not the fragile calm that came after a fight, thick with smoke and tension. Not the wary quiet of players hiding underground with one hand on their weapons.
This was something else.
Peaceful.
Wrongly peaceful.
No distant explosions rattled the air. No frantic chatter crackled through the comms. No panicked shouts echoed up from the ever-hungry hole that had claimed more lives than anyone cared to count. Even the usual background paranoia — the constant feeling of being watched — seemed muted, dulled by the warm afternoon light.
If danger existed, it was taking the day off.
Even Grian’s decision to wander off alone to spy on Jimmy hadn’t stirred much concern. He’d announced it casually, like he was popping out for groceries instead of reconnaissance on a rival team.
Back soon. Don’t die without me.
Pearl had laughed. Gem had rolled her eyes. And then he was gone.
If anything, it felt like just another Friday.
Gem and Pearl had stayed behind at the lighthouse, tending to the small wheat farm they’d planted the day before along the sun-drenched side of the structure. The soil was dark and damp from the nearby water source. The soft rustle of crops in the breeze and the steady rhythm of breaking and placing blocks created a peaceful sort of background noise.
It wasn’t much. Barely enough to feed a team long-term.
But it was something alive in a world obsessed with death.
The steady rhythm of their work filled the air — the soft crunch of breaking weeds, the muted thud of replanting seeds, the rustle of crops brushing against armor. Simple, repetitive tasks that didn’t require vigilance or strategy. Tasks that let your mind wander.
Pearl straightened, pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead in exaggerated exhaustion.
“Okay,” she declared, surveying their progress like a general inspecting troops, “but next mission, we should definitely go for something big.”
Gem hummed absently, crouched in the dirt as she replanted a row with practiced efficiency. “Big how?”
“Like—” Pearl gestured vaguely at the horizon. “Actual chaos. Something memorable. Not just… agriculture.”
Gem snorted softly. “You say that now, but you’ll be the first one screaming when everything explodes.”
“I do not scream.”
“You absolutely scream.”
Pearl gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “I yell strategically.”
Gem laughed — a real laugh, warm and unguarded, the kind that slipped out before she could stop it. It softened her whole face, chased the sharp edge from her eyes.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Safe.
Pearl smiled without realizing it, watching Gem brush dirt from her hands with an absentminded flick. Sunlight caught in her hair, turning it almost gold at the edges.
Maybe — just maybe — they were going to get through today without disaster.
Then the server chimed.
A sharp, artificial tone that cut cleanly through the quiet.
Both of them paused automatically, hands stilling mid-motion.
A cold, metallic announcement followed, echoing directly into every player’s comms — flat, emotionless, inhuman.
The Boogeymen are about to be chosen.
Pearl exhaled through her nose and went back to planting.
“Great,” she muttered. “Love that for us.”
Gem didn’t respond.
Boogeyman messages happened all the time. It could be anyone. Probably someone halfway across the map. Someone dangerous, sure, but not an immediate problem.
Not here. Not now.
Pearl grabbed another handful of seeds. “Anyway, I was thinking we could—”
She stopped.
Gem had gone completely still.
Not the casual pause of someone thinking. Not distraction.
Still, like something had unplugged her.
“…Gem?”
No answer.
Pearl frowned, straightening slowly. “Gem?”
Gem’s head lifted.
Not toward Pearl.
Upward. Slightly tilted, like she was listening to something far away.
A prickle crawled up Pearl’s spine.
“Gem, are you—”
Gem turned.
Her eyes were glowing.
Not just bright. Not reflective. Not a trick of the sun.
Burning.
A violent, unnatural red that seemed to generate its own light, cutting through the daylight like twin coals pulled straight from a furnace.
Pearl’s stomach dropped so fast it felt like falling.
“Gem…?” Her voice came out smaller than she meant, uncertainty bleeding through. “That’s… not funny.”
Gem’s face held no humor.
No anger.
No anything.
Her expression was blank — not neutral, not calm, but empty, like someone had hollowed her out and left the body behind.
Like nobody was home.
Pearl took a step back without meaning to.
“…Gem?”
Gem moved.
Not a step.
Not a lunge.
A launch.
She exploded forward with terrifying speed, closing the distance before Pearl’s brain could even process the danger. Gem hurled herself forward with an extraordinary force, slamming into Pearl’s chest like a projectile. The impact drove Pearl backward off her feet, air blasting from her lungs in a silent gasp as her back hit the ground.
Then her head snapped violently into the wooden fence behind her with a sickening crack.
Stars detonated across her vision. White light swallowed everything for a heartbeat, sound dropping out into a dull, distant roar.
For a moment, she didn’t even understand what had happened.
Then weight crashed down onto her torso, forcing what little air she had left from her lungs.
Gem straddled her, knees pinning her before she could react, before instinct could even catch up. Dirt dug into Pearl’s back. Hands — familiar hands, warm hands, hands that had been planting crops beside her seconds ago —
clamped around her throat. Tight.
Pearl’s own hands flew up automatically, fingers clawing at Gem’s wrists in blind panic.
“G—Gem—!” The sound scraped out, barely audible, strangled by the pressure already cutting off her airway.
Gem didn’t blink.
Didn’t hesitate.
Her grip tightened.
Pain flared sharp and immediate, pressure crushing inward from both sides of Pearl’s neck. Air wouldn’t come in. It was like trying to breathe through stone.
Pearl kicked weakly beneath her, boots scraping uselessly against the dirt.
“Snap out of it—!” she wheezed, voice thin and broken. “Gem— it’s me—!”
Nothing.
No flicker of recognition. No conflict. No mercy.
Just those burning red eyes staring down at her like she was an object. A target. Something to be eliminated.
Pearl’s nails dug into Gem’s skin, trying desperately to pry her hands away, but Gem felt impossibly strong — far stronger than she had any right to be. It was like fighting iron.
Her head throbbed where it had struck the fence. Warmth trickled into her hairline. The world pulsed in and out of focus, edges darkening as oxygen refused to come.
Sound warped into a distant rushing noise, like being underwater.
Confusion shattered into raw, animal terror.
Gem is trying to kill me.
Her movements grew frantic, then jerky, then weak. Each attempt to breathe produced nothing but a hollow, useless gasp. Her lungs burned, chest heaving for air that wasn’t there.
Gem didn’t look angry. Didn’t look triumphant. Didn’t look anything at all.
Just empty.
As Pearl’s vision centered on the red glow of Gem’s eyes — not wild, not furious…, just hollow, black spots swarmed at the edges, swallowing color, swallowing light as the darkness surged forward.