Chapter Text
1:30...
1:29...
1:28...
...Last man standing between him and 1x1x1x1—his creation of hatred.
"Great," Shedletsky sighed, pulling a hand up to rub against his temples as he looks around corners to hide in to kill time—but that would be useless against 1x1x1x1's Unstable Eye.
The round could have ended earlier if it weren't for 1x1x1x1 to land his entanglement right at Noob... well, what did he expect? Noob was always bad at rounds, no offense.
Shedletsky skitters around the map, then he snoops around a wall, munching on his last fried chicken of the round. "Shouldn't be too bad if I just hid around this corner—"
"This is... MASS INFECTION!"
Woah, shit.
Strange sparks of glitching patterns flew around Shedletsky's eyes and he struggled to get himself upright before getting hit by an entanglement later on—numerous pop-ups danced along his vision as he tried to shake it away, but to no avail until he was then pushed down onto the ground.
He looked up at his creation—his embodiment of all of his hatred combined towering above him, 1x1x1x1 sure did look terrifying from this angle...
But was that a look of hesitation in his eyes?
1x1x1x1's grip on his venomshank relaxes slightly before tightening again, it's like he doesn't know what to do—he's frozen in place. He needs to kill him, he wants to kill him. He should kill him—
So, why is he hesitating?
Shedletsky is the same person who locked him away for years, treated him like nothing more than just a vessel for hatred.
But then in the next few rounds, this cycle will repeat all over again and he'd have to see his face again either way... but he's the creation of hatred for admins' sake—he shouldn't be getting tired of this cycle now!
After all, that's what he wished for. Vengeance.
"1x..." Shedletsky said with a nervous chuckle following by—he never gets rid of that damn smile on his face, doesn't he?—"What's with the hold up? Time's almost ending, you can end me now!"
Begging to be killed? Boring.
But if that's what he wishes for, then bring it on.
1x1x1x1 pulled out his venomshank yet again, foot pressed firmly on Shedletsky's chest to pin him down.
But as he tried to finally stab him dead for good... he stopped right where the tip of his sword was pricking against the older man's neck below.
Why can't he do it? What's wrong with him?
Shedletsky squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself for a blow of intense pain before waking back up in the cabin again—he'd prefer being back with his friends again than hold this out much longer... but it never happened.
"...Come on, do I really have to teach you on how to beat someone?" Shedletsky huffs, his eyes opening again to look back up at 1x1x1x1—
Hold on, was he crying?
He has never seen him cry before, at least not in front of him.
Sniffles and sobs can be heard from the entity above him, the grip on his sword trembling slightly before clattering away on the ground. He then backs away, his body continuing to tremble.
"I-I don't know what's wrong with me—" 1x1x1x1 choked out through sobs, using a hand to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. "Shed—for 2x2's sake, stop looking at me like that!"
Shedletsky flinched, breaking free from his frozen stance before getting up by himself. He reaches out closer to cup 1x1x1x1's face in his hand, wrapping him in a warm embrace by impulse.
"Shhh... what's up with you today? Got something on your mind?" Shedletsky cooed, while 1x1x1x1 slowly—but hesitatingly—reciprocated the hug, his breathing slowing down into a relaxed motion.
1x1x1x1 blinked—this was the first time someone has ever shown that they cared for him this much... and to think it came from Telamon himself.
But if he lets himself get carried away, what more is that if he gets manipulated and thrown away again in the end? He can't bring himself to trust anyone... so why is that he feels this way with his creator now?
"...none of your business—"
Shedletsky rolled his eyes in response, pinching 1x1x1x1's cheeks to at least muster out a response out of the younger. "Come ooonnn, I'm not that evil, scary god anymore! You can tell me anything, come on—"
1x1x1x1 hissed, pulling Shedletsky away by the hair, glaring down at him. "Do you ever do anything else but pester?"
"Says the one who was just crying in my face a moment ago, tell me the truth—"
"I don't know if I hate you or I love you now, and—" 1x1x1x1 groaned, pulling his face in his own hands from the embarrassment crashing through him. "Just shut up! This is none of your business!"
"It is my business, you're my creation." Shedletsky interjected, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. But he then breaks off into a fit of laughter, holding 1x1x1x1 close. "If you don't hate me as much as before... can we call that progress?"
1x1x1x1 snarled, but he involuntarily leans into the embrace either way. "It still means I hate you."
"I see no difference." Shedletsky shrugged before continuing, "Maybe spending the round hugging and being sweet is more better than being killed."
1x1x1x1 falls silent, then he wraps his arms more tightly around his creator. All he wanted for all these years was just his love and attention, anyway.
He's earned it.
"...You're warm."
"And you're cold. Well, you're always cold, aren't you?"
"..."
"Tough crowd. Just stay like this, I'll warm you up properly."
Feels... familiar, huh?
...
"Creator—" 1x1x1x1 gasped out, arms held tightly around himself in an attempt to try and warm himself up from the freezing cold. "—it's cold..."
"1x?" Telamon turned to 1x1x1x1, wrapping his arms around the shorter person before him with a small, reassuring smile on his face. "There, there. You always get cold easily, huh?"
"...I hate the cold." 1x1x1x1 murmured more to himself than to Telamon, making the taller man chuckle in response. He felt his large wings wrap around them both in a warm cocoon—he still feels slightly cold, but it will suffice nonetheless.
Telamon hummed, patting 1x1x1x1's back and running a hand through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Of course you do. Do not worry, Telamon is here."
...
"...I'm still glad he remembers." 1x1x1x1 thought to himself before the round ticked down to an end. The Spectre may erase his memories of what happened, but the feeling—this feeling—won't ever fade.