Chapter Text
Some say death was a comforting thing. Some say that death was the sweet release that is needed to fulfil their lives. Some find peace in death. And sometimes it could be. Having the freedom of death allowed for a new start for some. And a new start is what most people wanted. After all the violence, beneath the hatred that everyone wore, the desire for happiness, for harmony. Death was the key for this for some people.
Midnight was not one of these people.
Death was cruel and unforgiving to him. Death was something to be feared. Death was a parasite spreading around the world, preparing to take everyone away. Death was a disease that consumed every part of a person until there was nothing left but a memory. And that memory would be gone too, eventually. Midnight was once forgotten. Or… maybe Sorhin remembered him. Maybe Sorhin remembered Quakitus. Maybe Sorhin remembered the times that they had together. The beautiful times where they would just mess around, have fun. Until Evourai ruined it all.
Falling into that deep, deep hole was the worst thing that could have happened to Midnight. His two hearts slowly stopping before he even knew what was going on. Death-banned. And the Afterlife. The brightness of the sky, the typical brick buildings with a paper white one standing—towering over them—appartently that's where the admin of that island lived, people communicating, trading, enjoying themselves. How could anyone enjoy being dead? Midnight remembered hoping that Q and Sorhin were able to get out. Midnight remembered that Q had set her spawn on the bed and he remembered hoping that Evourai wasn't smart enough to bed-trap her. But nothing ever goes the villains’ way, does it? Though, in all honesty, Evourai was the one acting more like a villain than them. Sorhin just wanted to avenge Boomie. Q was death-banned. And Sorhin lived. Midnight couldn't imagine how bad the guilt would've felt. The feeling of all your friends being dead, and yet you still survive.
But Midnight could understand another guilt. SyntaxProtocol revived him, forced him away from his friend and forced her to be all alone. Midnight felt guilty about that, how could he not? He left Q alone after all the death she had suffered, all the pain they were healing together. But now he's alive again. And he couldn't help but selfishly adore that. He wanted life, he wanted to live. And he has that chance now, no matter how selfish it may be. No matter how lonely Q would be.
It was saddening. Midnight wondered how Sorhin was now, how Q felt still being in the Afterlife.
He wanted to visit Sorhin once, when he first got revived, but Syntax said it wasn't a good idea. That Sorhin would get emotional over it and that it would make the Council's job harder. Midnight knew Sorhin wasn't that emotional, the man knew how to control his emotions when he needed to. Sorhin wasn't emotional, he was driven by his emotions. But Midnight held back anyway. He didn't visit Sorhin, and Sorhin didn't know he was alive. Despite how badly Midnight wanted to see his friend, he knew that the Council was significantly more important. Sorhin was alone, but Midnight selfishly enjoyed the new company he had. Flowtives, Sharpness, Syntax— or well, Inproper. Midnight enjoyed the time he spent here, maybe even more than he had with Quakitus and Sorhin. Was that selfish? Sorhin and Quakitus were the first proper friends Midnight had. Was it selfish to enjoy other people's company more than theirs? The Council was all strictly professional, while the three had an actual friendship.
A sigh escaped Midnight. The End was a beautiful place, the partial change in the sky—purple to black—was a sight to see. Almost comforting if it wasn't for the constant quiet rumbling that the atmosphere emitted. The endstone was hard underneath him, his hands pressing against it to keep himself upright. If Midnight lifted his hands he would be able to see the indents that the stone had engraved into him. His legs hung off the edge, swaying slightly instinctively. Peaceful. Calm. Soothing.
In a way, the atmosphere of the End reminded him of the Afterlife. The bitter cold air stabbing at every part of you. The never-ending void that seems like it would suck you up until there's nothing left. The fear of existing. The End was a dangerous place, but the Afterlife felt cruel. The Afterlife had this almost merciless aftertaste to it. Midnight didn't recognise it when he was there, but now it was as clear as day. The admins that resigned there were brutal. Pushing people into the void for the smallest of mistakes. Midnight wondered if he’d fall into the void one day.
Having the close comfort of the void's hand wrap around him into a warm embrace. Forcing him to his limits until he falls limp, letting her take him back to the Afterlife. A thought that he would rather not dwell on. Nevertheless, there were more important things to consider, such as Evourai.
It was a perfect place. Midnight allocated himself to be the first to deal with Evourai, and this island was perfect to keep him on until Death was released. No civilization in sight, no hope to escape to the Overworld again. Evourai may put up a fight but in the end, he’ll still be in the hands of the Council. Even if Midnight somehow dies by his hands, even though death was the thing he feared the most, the rest of the Council will be there to ensure that Evourai doesn't get in the way of their plan.
Death will be freed.
Midnight doesn't want to die. And Midnight will sacrifice his life if he needs to.
He’ll do what he must in order for the Council's plan to be put in place. If his death was needed to show Evourai their message, then he’ll gladly die. Maybe that was a bit morbid, considering he had just gotten his life back, but it was necessary. If he lives, he lives. If he dies, he’ll die by his own accords, by his own hands. He won’t let Evourai have the final blow on him.
It was stressful thinking about all of this. Midnight had come here for some peace and quiet, not to overthink about the future. He knows that the others in the Council are more than capable to remove Evourai from the equation, it's just if he's capable enough for it. He's gotten stronger, but so has Evourai. They've both adapted since their last meeting. They’ve both changed and they’ve both become better versions of themselves. But has Midnight become enough?
Has he done enough? Is he worthy enough? Would Proper be proud of him?
“Hey.” A voice can from behind, the voice of Inproper himself, Midnight's saviour, the reason he was alive again. He always showed up at the most convenient times, Midnight would like to have someone to talk to. But at the same time he wasn't really expecting anyone to find him here. Far out into the End with no other End islands in sight.
“I’ve been looking for you for a while.” It was also quite the coincidence that Proper had turned up now, with Midnight thinking about what would happen.
It's been a while since Midnight has actually spoken to the other Council members, not that he's avoiding them, it's just demanding to plan everything he’ll do with Evourai. With that fact, he isn't surprised that Proper was looking for him. It's normal for the two to at least have a small catch up with each other at the end of the day; Midnight being MIA for the past three days didn't really help with that.
“Can’t say I'm shocked to hear that.” Midnight replied, tilting his head a bit to the side to have Proper in his field of vision.
It was easy to talk to Proper. Maybe it was just because the two had become closer to each other than Midnight has with Flow and Sharp. He's always found those two to be too competitive for his liking, plus they had each other so he never felt bad for not being as close to them.
Proper moved to sit next to him, one leg up to his chest while the other hung off the edge. For a moment, they were silent. A comforting, soft silence. It was normal. Midnight could almost forget about his impending doom. Almost… But nonetheless, it always stayed in his head, gnawing at every part of him.
“You’ve been gone for a bit.” Proper spoke, breaking the silence. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. While Midnight was prone to just disappearing for hours at a time, he's never been gone for literal days—and that made Proper worry a lot more than he's comfortable saying. “You don’t normally disappear for that long.”
Midnight hummed and Propers’ eyes flickered over to him for a moment just to go back to watching the nearly hypnotising sky. Proper wondered what Midnight could be thinking about. Sure he had a small idea—it was probably something to do with Evourai, something to do with whatever Midnight wanted to do with him. But in the end, Proper couldn't read minds. Proper had no actual idea what Midnight was thinking about. And that was annoying.
Proper wanted to know, needed to know. He wanted to make sure that Midnight was okay—that his little brother was alright. “You think you're ready?” Proper hesitantly asked before clarifying, “For Evo, I mean.” It was a risky question, Proper didn't know how Midnight would react—if Midnight would react. But either way, trying and failing was better than not trying at all. And Proper wasn't exactly one to not do anything.
“I’m scared.” Midnight replied with, after a long moment of silence. Midnight didn’t open up much, not even to Proper. They all knew that. The only time Proper really knew how Midnight felt was when they did their small check-up at the end of the day. It was always something he found difficult doing after he got revived. Talking to Q and Sorhin was so easy, and now that he was in a new environment, he didn't know how to act. Flow, Sharp, Proper. They were all so good at what they did, all so perfect. And Midnight couldn't form a way to react to that. So he didn't. He kept to himself and that the way it would always be if there wasn't so much on his mind right now.
“Is that bad? I don’t- I- I don’t want to die again.”
The tone of Midnight voice was small, so quiet it was almost inaudible. Midnight sounded so unsure, and that gnawed at Proper's heart a bit more than he'd like to express. No one wanted to die—but to hear Midnight say that. He didn't want to go back to being a forgotten memory.
“You won’t die. Evo… He’s…” Proper paused for a moment. It was harder talking to Midnight than he’d imagined.
“You’re acting like he’s killed you again. Last I checked, you're still here. You’re not that kid running around with his friends anymore.” It was a poor attempt at comfort and it probably wasn’t the best idea to indirectly remind Midnight of his past friends, but it was the best Proper could offer for the time being.
“If you don’t think you can do it, you don’t have to go first, Midnight.” A better attempt.
No one was forcing Midnight to do anything. Midnight had control over what he wanted to do and Proper only reminded him of his free will. Back with his past friends, Midnight has to more or less follow what Sorhin wanted, do what Sorhin wanted. But the Council were equals. They only pushed each other to the correct path rather than pull them onto what they want.
In the end, they all want the same thing. To free Death.
“I want to do it.” Midnight spoke, “I need to. I want- I want to prove myself, show that I can do something.”
A lot of Midnight's self-worth stemmed from what he was able to bring to the table. And currently, he feels like he hasn't done much to help with their goal. Hence, the need to deal with Evourai. Proper knew this. Proper knew the ways Midnight functioned and there was so much he could say.
So much he wanted to say in such little time.
“You have nothing to prove,” He started, “We all know you're capable, you think I revived you out of pity?”
It was true. If Proper, when he was SyntaxProtocal, didn’t see Midnight as a good asset, he wouldn’t have given him a second chance at life. Midnight wouldn’t be here if Proper didn’t see potential. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“There’s so much I have to worry about!” Midnight said in one breath.
“I just- There are so many things that I want to do, Proper, and I'm scared I won't be able to do them. Like… after- once we free Death, I want to see Sorhin again. I want him to know that Q is okay in the Afterlife, I want him to know that it wasn’t his fault.” He ranted, using his hands to exaggerate his points.
“I want Evo to feel exactly how I did when he killed me. I want Evo to see his friends die so he knows how Sorhin felt and I want Evo to be put on two hearts after being bed-trapped so he knows how Q felt.”
Midnight was doing it for them. Because they were his best friends and no matter how selfish he became with his new friends, those two will forever be in his heart.
“I feel-” Midnight cut himself off. He didn’t know how he felt. Everything felt like so much yet not enough. “It’s just… Evo gets away with too much.”
Proper huffed at that, not out of disagreement. He too believed that Evo got away with too much, which is why he forced him into the Afterlife. And he would've continued making Evourai's life a living hell if it wasn't for Pierce. “That he does. Well, Evo does have a literal owner on his side, but we will as well once we free Death.” Proper shrugged.
And once they do, they’ll be in a better position than Pierce would even think of them in. Once Death is freed, they’ll be able to turn the server into what it was supposed to be from the very start. And it’ll be okay.
“Either way, Evo’s no match for you. You’ve trained with the best.” Proper continued, reassuring Midnight that if he and Evourai did fight, Midnight would have no issue beating the other. But, of course, Midnight still had his doubts.
“Evo’s been training as well.” He muttered, pressing his hands back into the endstone, forcing the indents into his hands once more. “He’s gotten a lot better at the mace. I don’t want to die, Proper. I don’t want to go back to the Afterlife.”
Proper sighed at that. Midnight and his hundred doubts would never get old. It was almost like Midnight has some sort of monster constantly telling him things that keep him in a doubtful state. It would be funny, if it didn’t worry Proper so much.
One day these doubts would actually cause something, and Proper would think that it would be his fault for not making sure Midnight was alright.
“It’ll be okay, Midnight.” Proper spoke, wrapping one arm around the younger and pulling him closer to himself.
Midnight's head fell on Proper's shoulder while both of them looked out to the vast expense of the void. It was comforting like going to your mother after a long day to just be hugged. Like a younger brother going to his older brother to just spend time with him. Nothing like the false perceived warm embrace of the void that Midnight so much thinks about. Even if it feels so much easier to listen to the cold words of her, Midnight knew that it would be better if he rejected her. He was scared of her words either way. They were so comforting yet so distant, Midnight could never figure out what she truly wanted. Maybe he’ll listen to the void another day.
The fear that, one day, he may act on her words lingered in his mind, growing weaker with time. He knew that if it came to it, Proper would be there. Proper would always be there and Midnight had nothing to worry about.
Brothers.
It was okay as long as they all stayed together.
“It’ll be okay, got it?”
Midnight nodded.
“Good.”