Chapter Text
This must be another dream of theirs.
Noob finds themselves in a patch of grass, one that stretches as far as their eyes can see. There are flowers, blooming all around them—a field of yellow carnations, swaying gently in the light breeze. But that's not what catches their attention. And there's a figure standing at the edge of the field, looking as though they’ve been waiting for them for a very long time.
“Who are you…?” Noob calls out to the figure, confused by their presence. They can't quite recognise who they are, especially since they’re standing so far away.
Upon hearing their voice, the figure turns, allowing Noob to take a closer look. But before they can do so, the figure is quickly enveloped in shadow, with their form growing far larger than when it first appeared. And they begin to transform, turning into a monster of sorts—one created from the darkness, marked with a bloody red cross over its heart, alongside thin streams of red dripping from their eyes. The monster stares back at them, its gaze seemingly piercing straight through their soul.
“Are you alone, my dear friend?”
The figure asks, its voice low and menacing. Noob has no idea what to do—they’re standing there, completely frozen in place. What even was that? And why would it ask such a thing?
But there is no time to think about such things. They have to answer its question, or else who knows what the figure might do to them. Still, no matter how hard they try, they can't find the right words to say. All they feel is fear in their heart, threatening to consume them whole.
The monster tilts its head, an act that looks to be seemingly humane, which conflicts with its terrifying appearance. “Well? Won't you answer my question?" it asks again, with its smile widening to reveal sharp, jagged teeth inside.
I have to go now. It's not safe here.
Noob doesn't even stop to think. Even if they had stopped to think about it, maybe they would have realised this was a dream, and that they had nothing to worry about. But fear is a powerful thing… It makes you lose all reason, and cower from what you usually wouldn't. Logic becomes irrelevant, resulting in decisions that are made in haste. Thus, they run, overwhelmed by these intense emotions. They don't dare look back, afraid that the monster might swallow them alive. But it catches up to them quickly. They can feel it leap onto their back, nearly driving them into the ground with its sharp nails.
“P-Please, I—" Noob starts to beg, hoping for a sliver of mercy. But their pleas fall upon deaf ears. It doesn't work, and the monster crushes them instantly. They can practically feel their bones collapsing inward, with the white-hot agony that blooms all across their body.
“Until we meet again.”
Noob jolts awake. They’re drenched in cold sweat, probably from that nightmare of dying. The dream had ended, but the memory it left behind remains.
Ugh… What time is it?
They glance towards the window, the one that still has its curtains drawn shut. They don’t dare to see what lurks outside—no, they don’t want it to see them. They notice that the morning light that streams through the cracks is nowhere to be found. It’s only the pale gaze of the moon that remains in its wake, the single constant in this hellscape. That indicates it must be night time right now.
With a sigh, Noob turns over in their bed. Sleep won't come again, not until the next day. And they know that they’ll have to get up soon and begin their nightly routine.
This might be hell, is a sentiment they can't help but admit.
Every day, the sun’s temperature rises. The days have turned scorching, with an intensity so grave that no one was able to go outside anymore, unless it was night time, in fear of being burned alive. The apocalypse had started off normally, like any other day. At first, the heat had been bearable—annoying to some, but manageable nonetheless. Then it became excessive, far beyond what anyone could survive. So, in turn, the world adjusted itself. Everyone would stay inside their homes during the day, and only go out at night. Honestly, Noob was pretty lucky to have a decent place to stay… They don’t want to think about what might have happened otherwise.
At that moment, a loud banging echoes through the door, interrupting their chain of thought. And that sound is followed by someone shouting loudly for them to open up.
They should probably check it, and see what the ruckus is all about.
Noob reaches for their shotgun, the one they kept close at all times. They always made it a habit to have it nearby, even when they slept. It seemed like something born of paranoia, but they reasoned it to be an extra precaution, something done just in case anything were to go wrong. Although they didn't like using force against others, going unarmed wasn't an option anymore. You never knew who might turn up at your door. It was always good to be prepared. And they make sure to be extra careful when they hold it… They just don't want to appear too threatening, especially not to whoever is waiting outside.
But what else did they have to fear, you ask? What could possibly warrant this use of their shotgun, when it seemed like their only concern should be with the rising temperature of the sun? Well, the answer was simple. Not only did the world decide to punish them with the unbearable heat, but it also brought along the arrival of the Guests.
They were monsters. The scum of the earth was the title that people deemed them. They had suddenly appeared after this whole catastrophe began to take place. They were people who could blend in with others, acting as though everything was fine, before they snapped and killed all that was with them. They were dangerous creatures, capable of hurting others. And there were signs too, ones that betrayed their true identity, things they could not mask. For example, one sign was perfect white teeth, with it shining to an eerily bright degree, accompanied by bleeding gums. That was something normal people didn't have. Dirty nails were another sign too, with the explanation behind them being that it was dirtied when they tried to bypass systems, and threaten the stability of the land. So many signs had been given to them, and it seemed like they managed to find a new one every single day.
But in times like this, they might not be the worst thing out there. Sometimes, people could prove to be far more dangerous. They shunned each other, hurt one another, in fear of them being Guests.
Noob’s hands tighten around the shotgun. They know that feeling of unease far too well. But they can't dwell on that thought for any longer—they need to focus, and see who was at the door, banging so loudly at this ungodly hour.
They carefully make their way to the front door. It's a cramped little house, one that belongs only to them. Apparently, this was an inheritance they had gotten from a distant relative. Noob had always been fairly independent, with them being estranged from their family. Thus, they hadn’t expected to be left anything in the will, let alone a house. Initially, it proved to be a burden—it was something tying them down to this place, especially when they wanted nothing more than to be free from their past. But now it turned out to be an essential resource, just to survive in a hell like this.
Eventually, they arrive at the entrance of the house. They tiptoe a little, trying to peer through the peephole, and see who it is on the other side of the door. They still have their shotgun in hand—although they’ve never had to fire it before, it's useful for their protection, another reminder that they aren't that helpless in a hell like this.
On the other side of the door stands an unfamiliar man. He has a bucket-shaped helmet on his head, with two horns on top. His eyes are hidden in the shadows of his hat, but one of them seems to glow faintly, staring right back at Noob. And around his neck is a chain necklace made of metal scraps and tags, with different names carved into every piece. They even catch a glimpse of a few names… But they don’t dare ask what all of it could possibly mean.
But it's not their appearance that intimidates them. It's the smell he has—he reeks of blood. Noob feels a chill crawl down their spine from that realisation.
“Hello…?” Noob stammers, sounding slightly nervous. The shotgun at their side helps to ease their nerves, but not much as it used to.
“It’s about time you answered! I don’t have all day,” the man mutters, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He doesn't have a weapon like them. Instead of a shotgun, he held a large hammer—it was spiky and wrapped in chains, deadly enough to kill anyone with a single blow. Noob senses they shouldn't risk angering him, but if he were to ask if he could come in, they certainly wouldn't allow him inside. He would be a danger to everyone. They just needed to stay calm, and ask him what he wanted from them.
“W-What is it?” Noob squeaks out from the other side of the door. Their stutter slips out unwillingly—it’s something they instantly regret. Showing such weaknesses in a world like this was dangerous. In the past, it would be okay. But now, they just offered him another sign they were afraid of him. They could only hope that he didn’t notice.
As he answers their question, the man frowns, clearly unimpressed.
“The name’s Doombringer, and I’m a former admin. I’ve been hunting the Guests, getting rid of them before they hurt others.”
Noob doesn't quite follow. A former admin, becoming a Guest hunter? They knew they were supposed to maintain peace and harmony, but they had never heard of such a thing… Still, they remain silent, not wanting to anger him further.
“Now, open up. And show me you ain’t one of ‘em.”
What? Did he just ask them to open the door? To someone like him, who reeked of blood?
Noob can’t just open the door like that—especially now to someone that was armed. Sure, they have a shotgun to defend themselves, but who knows what someone with a hammer like that could do? And there are people inside they have to protect. They need to be careful with what they choose to do.
“How can I trust you…?” Noob asks.
Doombringer laughs, clearly thrown off by their question. Noob is rather afraid of him, and his boisterous laugh. I mean, who wouldn't be? He was so much taller and stronger than them, and they definitely couldn't beat him in a fight. He was also armed, too—that was another danger they had to be mindful of.
“Usually, when people see someone like me, they cower in fear. And yet, you don’t. I admit that you’ve got guts, kid. But if you keep that up, someone's gonna do you in.”
Doombringer carefully sets his hammer onto the ground, trying to make himself appear less intimidating. It doesn't do much though. He still stands tall, a looming figure compared to them. But Noob must have the upper hand in this situation—they could shoot him before he does anything else. He doesn't know they’re armed, and they could take him by surprise if anything were to go awry.
“There. Is that enough for you? I can even show you my old badge if you need to verify my identity.”
He says that, but Noob’s not really listening. They’re deliberating what to do in their mind, and making sure to consider every possibility and the consequences of the decisions they might make. And it's strange, seeing such a figure lower his weapon. They can't help but lower their guard too, ever so slightly. Surely he can't do anything without it, right? They should probably listen to him, especially since he was much less of a threat now. He may have a menacing figure, but he was a former admin, was he not? Admins were… trustworthy. The only group they could rely on in turbulent times like this.
Noob slowly opens the door, revealing themselves to the man on the other side. They still make sure to keep part of their body hidden though, to conceal the shotgun in their hand. A necessary precaution, something done just in case things spiral out of control. And it's only when they see him eye to eye—not through the peephole of their door—that they realise how tall the man truly is. He nearly towers over them, and looks powerful enough to the point that he could crush them in an instant.
Doombringer chuckles, seemingly amused.
“I didn’t expect such a… tiny figure. You don’t look like you’d be a Guest, but I’d prefer to make sure.”
Noob quickly thinks about what they can show him, to prove their identity as a non-Guest. Showing him their teeth or nails would probably be the easiest out of the signs. They don't want him to be staring into their eyes, with his hands digging into their skin to check for any signs of redness—and they definitely don't want to have to take off their shirt to prove anything.
However, showing him their nails might not be the best idea. They were painted, something they had done in the past, and couldn't bear to wash off. The polish is chipped, but the colour is still visible. There's no dirt underneath them, but they still hesitate on showing him that—they’re worried that the remnants of black and red paint might be misread as something suspicious, more than what it was supposed to be.
In the end, they decide to show him their teeth. They open their mouth as wide as they can, hoping it's enough to convince him to stay away, and never return to their home.
Doombringer studies them—he looks at the braces they have, and the unbleeding gums. All the signs point to them not being a Guest. And after a moment, he nods, satisfied with them.
“I can see that you’re not one of them. My apologies for troubling you at this hour.”
Noob breathes a quiet sigh of relief. They already knew they weren't a Guest, but with someone as scary as him, who knows what could happen? Doombringer was a man calling himself a former admin—while they were trustworthy, no one had heard from them since the disaster began. If he wasn't so frightening, Noob might not have complied so easily with his demands. But he couldn't afford to take such risks, considering there were so many lives at stake, not just their own.
Doombringer picks up his hammer and turns to leave. But before he does so, he leaves some final words for them.
“You take care. I do hope you don’t turn into one of them… or I might have to enact justice on you too.”
Just like that, he’s gone, leaving Noob all alone. They close the door, then stand there for a moment, their nerves rattled by the whole encounter. They couldn't go to bed yet—they had made a request for a delivery yesterday, and they were still waiting for it to arrive.
Ding-dong!
They aren't greeted by a knock at the door. Instead, the doorbell rings, indicating someone’s arrival. Noob peeps through the peephole again, only to find a familiar face. It's the same delivery man who’s been working throughout the apocalypse. It never mattered what products they ordered or what time they keyed in—it was always the same guy showing up at their door, with their package in hand.
Elliot Builder was his name.
Noob had become friendly with him, over the short conversations they had whenever he came to deliver his package. He was wearing his usual red polo and black pants, with a long black inner top that fully covered his arms and neck. Probably something meant to protect his skin from the heat. He even has the same red visor on his head, the one that reads Builder Brothers’ Delivery Service.
Noob sets their shotgun down and opens the door. They didn't need to worry about him, because he definitely wasn't a Guest. They wouldn't employ people like that, so there was no need for them to keep holding onto their weapon.
Elliot smiles at them cheerfully, revealing his pearly-white teeth. In other circumstances, they might have been scared off by his appearance, and assumed he was a Guest. But the uniform said otherwise, confirming his identity. Plus, one of his teeth was missing near the side, making it imperfect.
So it was alright. His teeth went against the signs, and were nothing like what they had been warned about.
“Here’s your delivery,” Elliot says, passing them a fairly large-sized package. Inside it must have been the cat food Noob had ordered for their cat, Tac. They considered it to be a miracle that delivery services still worked in this kind of situation. Without it, Tac definitely would have starved—and that would have forced them to venture into the dangerous unknown, to leave the comfort of their home to search the outside world for supplies.
To be honest, it was a rather dystopian thing to think about. The workers couldn't even concern themselves with survival, and were forced to continue working. At least, that's what they thought before he met Elliot. Once, they had asked him why he kept going to his job, despite everything that had happened. He had explained that he enjoyed it and he also needed the money—and that had changed Noob’s opinion of such services entirely. Back then, he had seemed to be genuinely happy that he was working…
But now, things are very different. Elliot looked miserable to be there.
His hair is tied back into a messy bun, no longer as neat as before. He doesn't look the same, not what he looked like last time—there are dark bags that sit beneath his eyes, and his voice doesn't have the same cheer in it as it used to.
“T-Thank you," Noob mumbles, accepting the package. If it had been anyone else, maybe they wouldn't have cared as much. But seeing him look so downtrodden, combined with that sudden change in his demeanour, they can't help their curiosity, and end up questioning him about it. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”
"I’m doing alright—just feeling kind of stressed about work,” Elliot answers, shrugging a little.
“Is something wrong? I thought you enjoyed working?" Noob asks. They had only ever talked in passing, so they don't really know much about him or his personal life.
At that very moment, Elliot’s facade of confidence collapses—it’s like this was the first time anyone had shown him any real concern.
“I do. Work’s just been getting real hectic lately, and something terrible’s happened at the business. It’s been really hard for me, surviving out here.”
That's when he seems to realise that he’s shared too much. His mask slips back on, and his customer service smile returns, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"I guess I have to learn to deal with it, haha… I just wish I wasn't stuck in this place."
Upon hearing that, Noob comes up with an idea. Elliot seemed like a nice guy, someone he could trust. He definitely wasn't a visitor, judging from his imperfect teeth, and the fact that he had been employed for so long meant he should be fine, right? Plus, he looked so tired and stressed… Letting one more person in wouldn't hurt, they decided.
“How about you stay with me? I have plenty of space left.”
Elliot’s eyes light up at their suggestion. That dullness fades, replaced by that familiar spark of joy. “Really? You would do that for me?”
Noob nods along. Now, they’re more willing to let him enter, after seeing how much it meant to him. “Of course! It’ll be nice to have a new face here.”
"Oh, but I wouldn't want to trouble you…" Elliot mumbles, before looking away. He can't help but rub the back of his neck, suddenly feeling shy. Maybe he wasn't used to asking for help from others, or relying on someone else for support—that would explain why he was so anxious about talking about his struggles.
“D-Don't worry about it," Noob says quickly, trying to reassure him, and alleviate his worries. It really was okay if he came in, and they hoped he knew it. They open the door wider, a welcoming gesture meant for him. “Come in, and make yourself at home.”
With their insistence, Elliot gratefully accepts their offer to come in, and take shelter in their home. "Thank you so much! I don't know how I could ever repay you.”
Noob merely offers him a small smile in return. They’re glad they were able to help him, after all he’s done for them. “It’s a-alright… get some rest, yeah? There’s some extra space in my room.”
Elliot finally enters the house, but not before thanking them a few more times, to show his gratitude. They really must have done a good thing—he seems so thankful towards them. Still, he doesn't stay behind to make much small talk. Instead, he heads straight for the room… He must be feeling tired, after making so many deliveries and working non-stop in this apocalypse. And that's okay. Noob can talk with him in the morning, and learn why he’s been so stressed about work, along with his sudden change in attitude towards his job.
Noob closes the door, and waits. Sometimes there were other people who showed up, looking for a place to stay. And they had let everyone who came to the door in their home—they couldn't bear to turn away anyone asking for help. It had worked out for them so far, with nothing serious happening. But it was better to be safe than sorry, they remind themselves, picking up their shotgun again.
This time, there’s a soft knock at the door, not as violent as the others who came before them. They peek into the peephole again, the action becoming routine for them. They see that there's a hooded figure in long robes standing on the other side of the door, with a mask covering their face.
“Who are you?" Noob questions warily, keeping their shotgun in hand. They’ll hear the figure out, and see if there's anything suspicious about them. If there wasn't, they would let them in. If there was, they would turn them away—and yet they hoped they didn't have to go down such a grave path. It felt like they were leaving them to die, if they rejected their request to come in. Sometimes, one needed to make tough decisions no one else dared to make. But that didn't mean they had to like it.
To their surprise, the figure doesn't speak. They raise their hands, leaning closer to the peephole, and sign something in response.
“I’m Taph. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you… I just need somewhere to stay.”
That piques Noob’s curiosity. Were they using sign language to communicate? They haven't met anyone who used it since—
Stop it. I can't bring myself to think about it right now. It hurts… It all hurts so much.
Noob frantically shakes their head, trying to erase those bad memories. They don't want to think about them now. They can't afford to. They should focus on this, on the matter at hand.
Although they knew how to use sign language, they decided to speak for now, to see how things go. Taph can't see them sign through the door anyways. They would have to open the door to communicate, and they didn't want to risk it just yet. They’ll ask him a question, something simple.
“How long will you be staying for?"
Taph raises his hands again, signing an answer for them once more.
“Not for long. I was fired from my job, and need some time to find another one. I can show you my old permit, if you want.”
That… made sense. They did hear about a lot of people being let off from their jobs, now that life had been disrupted. And they really didn't want to turn anyone down. Up until now, they had let everyone who came to the door enter. If anything, they could always check on him in the morning, and see if they had any signs. Also, it was temporary, and it wasn't for long—so they’ll accept his request.
“It’s okay. You can come in, if it’s only for a while," Noob says, before opening the door and letting Taph enter. He signs something appreciative, a quick thank you for their kindness, before entering the house and making his way inside.
They’ve let in both Elliot and Taph. If they included Doombringer’s visit, that means there have been three people who came to their door. It was more than usual—at most, they would see two people, so it was odd to see so many new faces. Times really must be getting rough out there, considering how many people there were who needed shelter. Maybe that was everyone who would come tonight to their house… There couldn't possibly be a fourth one, right?
Noob turns away from the door, preparing themselves to return to their bedroom. They’ll have an early night, and rest well for the morning. But before they can leave, there seems to be one more person at the door, knocking insistently. It's not as violent as Doombringer’s banging, whoever it is that’s knocking seems to be desperate. And so, they check the peephole, one final time. All this while, they haven't let go of their shotgun—it’s still in their hands, ready to be used if need be.
Behind the door stands a woman, one with a large black-brimmed hat and long pink hair tied back into a ponytail. And she looks… exhausted, like she’s lost someone very dear to her. The sight seems strangely familiar—it’s as though she has the same weary expression Elliot once had, now evident on her face.
“What is it?” Noob asks, though they already know the answer. She was probably looking for some kind of shelter from the merciless sun, and came across their house in her search.
“I need somewhere to rest. I’ve… been travelling for a long time.”
Noob hesitates for a moment, processing her response. Their grip on the shotgun tightens instinctively. Was she really travelling in a time like this? Or maybe she meant that figuratively? There was only one way to find out. But first, they should ask for her name. After all, she didn't introduce herself.
“W-What’s your name…?”
The pink-haired woman pauses, seemingly considering something. Then, she looks away, avoiding their eyes, and adjusts the brim of her hat.
“I would rather not say it. You don’t have to let me in, if you don’t want to. But I would really appreciate it.”
Noob is at a complete loss. She was suspicious—she didn't tell them her name, or anything about herself. Why should they trust her? She was a stranger too, and didn't show anything to prove that she wasn't a Guest. And they know they should really be more careful with the requests they accept. They’ve already let in so many people, and it would just be another risk to allow someone so dubious to enter their home.
But there's just something in her expression… It's a tiredness they recognise, a grief in her eyes that words cannot explain. Things had been fine for them so far. Maybe this was a sign that letting one more person would be okay. She was someone in need, who desperately needed a place to stay.
Noob lowers their shotgun, finally coming to a decision.
“…alright. You can come in.”
They don't say anything else, and just open the door. She nods too, grateful for their kindness, but she remains quiet as well. She simply enters the house, picks out a spot for her to rest at, and disappears into the shadows of the night.
Noob continues to wait at the door for a while, wondering if anyone else will come to the door. It was better to be safe than sorry. Maybe someone else would need their help, and come to their place to seek shelter. And yet, no matter how long they wait, no one does. She seems to be the last one to come by.
Eventually, they decide to pack up for the night, and get whatever hours of sleep that remains. But first, they have to check that everything is locked up tight, for safety reasons. They inspect all the locks, making sure they’re working and functionally well. After they’re finished, they head to their bedroom, ready for some well-needed rest. Elliot is already lying on the spare sofa in their room, softly snoring away. He looks like he’s settled in comfortably, and for that, Noob was glad. They can't help but let out a thankful, almost affectionate sigh.
I was able to help someone. Even if it was a risk, I still managed to do a good thing. Now Elliot can rest peacefully, without any worries about not having a roof over his head.
Noob sets their shotgun aside, placing it in a relatively safe spot. Then, they glance through their closet, hoping to find something for Elliot. And they find what they’re looking for, after much searching—it’s a spare clean blanket, meant to keep him warm in the frigidity of night. They pull it out of their stack of clothes, place the blanket over his body, before returning back to their own bed. They mindlessly stare at the ceiling, trying their best to fall asleep.
It was a difficult thing to accept, the fact that the world truly was coming to an end. Just the other week, it seemed like everything was normal, as if it were any ordinary day, and nothing had changed. Truthfully, it's weird to think about how things had changed so quickly, in a blink of an eye.
At the very least, they weren't alone in this hell. Maybe they would be able to figure things out together, and find some hope in this madness.
Noob begins to feel sleepy, and ends up letting out a quiet yawn. They haven't been getting much rest these past few days, and those missed hours were finally catching up to them. Slowly, they close their eyes and let themselves drift, surrendering to the gentle lull of slumber.
They’ll just have to wait and see.