Chapter Text
The world works in such odd ways. Every second in your life is a gamble, any wrong decision could cause your downfall. Even the food you eat for breakfast matters. Why are things this way, you might ask? It’s simple, really. It’s because we never have enough of what we have. It’s why we always seek to be something, just someone to be remembered.
Do not be discouraged, however. Because in the end, what truly mattered are the slow, small moments we spend with the people we love. It is important that we cherish every second of our time with them while you can still hear them breathe and see their very being.
It was a late afternoon, the brimming glow of the sun radiated as brightly as the fire blasts generated by The Dark Lord and The Chosen One. The outernet had a vast range of sceneries with a huge array of vibrant greens, together with the misty blue rivers that had been clothed by water lilies. Nothing but a perfect place to fight and go all out on.
*THUD* *THUD*
The two figures exchange blows to each other.
Injured by each other's attacks, both figures prepare their next move in a stance. The Chosen One takes a moment to look at his opponent, and his dear friend, The Dark Lord. He realizes something about him. He notices the man's irises being pointed on his own.
"What're you looking at, Dark?" TCO disrupts the fight between him and TDL. "Nothing. You've got nice eyes, is all." "That's a weird way to read your opponent, Dark." TCO glances at him.
"Hah! Alright, you got me. Ya see, Cho, eyes are the "windows of the soul". They're the most expressive part of the face. And the most punchable, heh."
"You can clearly tell when a person is hiding when you look them right in the eyes. How intimate, wouldn't you agree, Cho? It feels special to be able to see someone completely." TCO's lips were filled in silence, for he had accepted the fact that the most important person in his life is a big weirdo. Yet his best friend's words still manage to find a way to intrigue him. This fuels TCO's fighting instincts even further, he wanted to fully grasp this strange particular being in front of him.
"When someone's in pain, it's so interesting to me how their eyes widen. As if it's grasping for air, or begging for mercy, or rather, just telling you 'just kill me already!!' without a single word." "Well, I think that simply fighting someone is no different. When you see how one moves, delivers blows, aim at where it hurts.. I guess it sort of reveals a part of who they are." TCO replies. "You get me! That's why when I fight, I always make sure to look them straight in the eye." TDL enthusiastically says to his friend, similarly to how a child gets all excited over a bunch of cool toys.
*WHOOOSH* TCO uses his craft of fire manipulation to swiftly drift himself to TDL's location.
".. Then allow me to take a look at yours, Dark." For a brief moment, the two face each other's eyes. TCO raises his hand as he strikes at his opponent.
Caught off-guard, TDL receives an uppercut from TCO. "Heh, found an opening." TDL thinks as he smirks while feeling the huge force of TCO's hands on his chin. The man surrounds his arms onto the source of the force damaging him. He then lifts him up in an attempt to smash him onto the ground. But TCO intercepts by using his fire blasts that proceed to rocket the two into the air. TCO then releases force by hurling the body of his opponent into the ground.
*BOOOM*
The dust from the ground spreads upon TDL's landing. "..You’ve gotten stronger. Haven’t you, Cho?" TDL accepts defeat, yet he himself is not able to feel that he has lost. Rather, he felt enlightened, inspired, and even thankful for his opponent for beating him. Respected, he felt. That someone who is literally named “The Chosen One” went all out against him.
His friend doesn't say a word. Realizing this, TDL instead takes a moment to look in his eyes. "gg" says TCO in a monotone voice. It felt casual to the man with powers equivalent to a God. As if he isn't one of the strongest fighters in this universe. “Hey, Cho? How ‘bout a picture, eh? Your phone. So that you could remember my handsomeness.” TDL rises from his place as he orders his virabot to get TCO's phone.
TDL receives the phone as TCO positions himself next to his friend. *Click* “Wh- hey! I wasn't ready.” exclaims TCO as he attempts to take away the phone on TDL's hand. “HAHAHAHA! I'm saving this.” “That’s literally my phone!” “Oh come on, it's for the memories, Cho.” “What? It's not like anything'll happen to us. We've.. been through a lot together.” he says as a flashback faintly appears. It was when the two of them had no power to defend themselves against Alan’s cursor. They did, however, manage to destroy his computer together. This memory was something that was truly precious to TCO. Because if that moment didn't happen, he would still have considered himself as a tool used for entertainment. The one who erased this thought, was no other than TDL, who felt the same at that time.
“Woah. Come on now man, why'd you get all serious all of a sudden? I just wanted a funny picture.” “But.. really though. I'm happy to be here, Cho.” “Same.” The two of them proceeded to lie down on the hole on the ground while watching the sun fade from the sky. The sky was filled with clouds that reflected the glistening glow of the sun's radiant rays, as if saying a final goodbye to conclude the day.
Time passes in a flash. The moon’s appearance is a clear indication of how long they’ve been laying down on that hole on the ground.
.
.
.
“..Bullshit. Utter bullshit. Why didn't you delete this picture, Cho?” Chosen talks to himself while his whole body is wrapped around an orange blanket. He is placed on a comfortable bed drawn by The Second Coming, an art genius, and Alan’s animation buddy, whom he considers as his younger sibling. The room does not contain any other furniture aside from a cabinet on the side of the room, a rug, and a desk near his bed. The desk in particular is piled with a dozen stacks of mugs, some that are half-empty of coffee. It was hard to determine if the room was messy or not due to the minimalism of furniture in it. In regards to Chosen, however, it was not hard to classify his obviously messy self.
The clock positions its hands to determine the time. It is 10:48am. *Knock*, *Knock*
The slow yet loud knocks indicate that his brother, TSC, is calling for him. Yet Chosen's focus remains on the faint light on his phone that presents the precious old memories he had. “..Did you eat yet, Chosen? I haven't seen you leave your room for days..” TSC asks in a gentle, approachable tone. But Chosen thought to himself that his brother was trying his best not to demand him to get out of his room and do something productive for once. Afterall, didn't Chosen want to change and redeem himself? Even if it meant cutting off the most important person in his life? Chosen knows this, that he is stuck and doesn't know what to do next.
“Yeah, Sec. Don't worry, I already ate a while ago. I stumbled upon Yellow in the kitchen earlier. You don't have to worry about me, Second. I'll be fine.” Chosen stood near the door as TSC pressed his palm to the door on the other side. “Alright. But if you need anything, just let me, or anyone from the gang know, okay? I'll.. see you around, Chosen. I’m gonna head out, I have duties today.” TSC releases his palm that was on the door and proceeds to walk away. “Love you.” TSC says in a faint voice.
He heard him everyday, the way he doesn't just immediately barge in the room despite the room being a part of his property, how he always asked if Chosen had eaten yet and if he had slept well. Chosen was overwhelmed by the warmth given to him, it felt like a privilege. But what Chosen was overwhelmed by more was the amount of availability TSC had recently. He had discovered through the Color Gang about TSC’s particular sleeping habits. Orange always needs his beauty-sleep. That came from Green. Did Second really make himself wake up early just to ask if his older sibling had eaten?
“I really am pathetic... I couldn't even look at him for even just a second.” His body slowly descended to the floor whilst his back was pressed on a door. Mopingly, he sits down on the floor. His view shifts to where the hands of the clock are pointed. The next thing he realized was the unstoppable force of time that managed to turn what felt like 5 minutes, into 3 hours.
The door opens, revealing the hallway. Footsteps approach the living room. It's lunchtime, but the couch seemed better than a snack. Chosen lays down comfortably, his head placed on the couch’s armrest that had the remote on it, taking it and pressing the power button to turn on the TV.
The TV was the only light the room had at the moment as Chosen didn’t even bother to turn on any other light source. He watches an interview between a journalist and two familiar faces. “Second sure is amazing..” He immediately spotted TSC. Beside him was a woman of average height wearing a grey dress with pale skin and long hair that reached to her hips. The ends of her hair are tied, that woman is obviously Mitsi. She was, however, already talking to the interviewer, her face pointed at the camera.
Being put in places where one had to speak to an audience definitely isn’t something that she has done for the first time. The way she spoke was clear, modulated, and composed despite all of the destruction that has happened around her. “We, Rocket Corp, will continue our collaboration with The Color Gang in accordance to our project: ‘Outernet Rehabilitation’ due to recent eve-”
“Thank you Ms. Mitsi. But can you please answer my question? How did it feel to be revived for the first time?” The microphone was shoved into Mitsi’s mouth, demanding her to speak. “Um, sorry, I don’t think that this is the ri-” TSC attempted to fix the situation, only to be interrupted by the journalist who proceeded to ask more questions.
“And you! You must be The Second Coming! Can you tell us what happened to The Dark Lord and The Chosen One after that big fight with the one who calls himself h4ck3r? Are they still alive till this day? Will there ever be a time where The Chosen One and The Dark Lord will attack the Outernet once again? Tell us what you think!” This journalist took no second to pause if it meant getting all the information they needed. It is in fact true that there are barely any records regarding the previous event.
“I appreciate your hard work, Sir. But I am afraid that we have a tight schedule on our hands and we are unfortunately unable to answer all of your questions as of now.” “But-” “Thank you and have a good day!” Says Mitsi hurriedly as she drags TSC away from the camera and the interviewer.
The TV screen transitions into a dark, messy room, if you could call it that. There is no place like this other than The Dark Lord’s apartment. Huh, it seems like even nuissances care about the news.
“The Suck-a-dick Corp and that orange Jesus Christ wannabe stole EVERYTHING away from our asses and proceeded to lock us up in our homes like domestic animals. THAT’S what happened! Why couldn’t these shitholes just say it already? I’ve got fans out there who think I’m dead. Nobody even fucking won the fight! Their asses just got lucky that they found a way to bring that bitch NO ONE killed back to life.”
Dark, who also happened to be watching the news in his apartment, exclaims in annoyance in his voice as he turns off the news. He is laid down in his couch, his Virabot, the only source of companionship he currently has, is placed on his chest as they both rot in the couch.
The only visible spaces in Dark’s studio type apartment was his television and couch. The rest of the room was bombarded by plastic bags with ordered food in it, stashes of unfolded garments, mold of dark shades around the walls and.. whatever those are. The floor is completely covered by the amount of cloth and trashbags over it.
“Well at least I’ve got this sweet apartment to myself without needing to pay the rent. I can live perfectly fine without NO ONE with me. Right, Vbot?” The Virabot shoots a handful of its weave on Tdl’s face. Dark wipes the weave off of his face while letting out a groan. “Hungry already? Geez, be patient, Vbot. It’s not even lunch time ye-” Dark looks at the clock. It was 5 minutes before twelve noon. He lets out a groan in complaint. “Ugh, let me just see if we’ve actually got something to eat.”. Dark gets up from his couch and stretches for a bit.
*Ding-dong* *Ding-dong* The doorbell rang, Dark approached the door to open it. “Someone’s here to see me, eh? Must be those stupid-lookin clones again.” Daylight flashes through Dark’s restless yet empty eyes upon opening the door. It had been a long time since he had gone outside. He notices a figure in front of him who was holding a plastic bag standing not too close from the door.
Dark’s eyes squint from the daylight. As he opens his eyes, his focus immediately shifts on the person who rang on his doorbell. An unexpected character appeared, it seems.
“Uh, hi. I’m Blue. And- uhm.. I know this sudden but-”
*Slam*
Dark hurriedly shuts the door in front of him in disbelief.
“???????????????”
“What. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT??” Says Dark as he places his back along with his hands on the door.