Chapter Text
Spoke doesn't remember how he came to be. He doesn't remember anything. He can't.
He just remembers how he feels like he was floating through a dark, endless void, before he opens his eyes.
Before him is some sort of rift in the server, a bug in the game. Like a portal forcefully torn open in a base that supposedly was Spokeishere's.
It violently flashes, mesmerizing green lines of code shifting quickly, a contrast to the dark tear. It calls out his name, beckoning him closer, and closer. Spoke is scared, confused, and uneasy.
Despite this, his hand reaches out towards it, helplessly gravitating over to the twitching fracture. A part of him begs him to pull away from the force, but another urges him to touch it. He obeys the latter, pressing his index finger to a random line of verdant code.
The line of code seems to bend, like a ripple in the surface, and for a second or two, it feels as though the ground isn't there anymore, like he wasn't standing on something tangible. Static crackles through the air as his hand flickers, fragmenting into overwhelmingly saturated shades of red and blue that seemed to blink in and out of existence.
He immediately yelps in fear, instinctively and swiftly retracting his hand from the fissure. His hand returns to normal as quickly as it had happened, no longer glitching like a game error. Spoke breathes a sigh of relief, and decides against touching the suspicious, cracked-open crevice spewing server codes in the middle of his base. Instead, he looks around the base, digging through chests and looking into his inventory.
His eyes land on a leather book, laid open on a lectern, and beside it, a headband. Spoke flips through it, reading its contents, before finding himself bored with the number of words. He keeps the book and headband in his inventory, and finds himself staring at the unstable crack.
It was so strange. For such a large flaw to even exist within the server, there must have been something much bigger behind it. Something meant to break the server. Something Spoke was meant to find.
He shakily raised his hand, moving it toward the opening, as he braced himself for the worst.
His hand spasmed, flashing the wrong colors, but he didn't stop. He just shut his eyes and plunged his hand further into the rift. The code circled his arm, bright green flickering before it abruptly pulled him in. That same feeling of drifting settled, as he slowly and warily opened his eyes once again.
Spoke then came to the realization that he was floating in some sort of void, vibrant code flowing around him like a whirlpool.
The sight was exhilarating. He couldn't help the grin that stretched across his lips, though he was uneasy.
A laugh bubbled up at the back of his throat, as his eyes sparkled like a little kid's.
It had been a solid week since Spoke had found those server secrets.
They made him glitchy and fuzzy, but he loved the rush of adrenaline it came with, watching the server break apart by his very own hands.
He left a giant wormhole in spawn, relishing in a cycle of new players crying out when they joined the server, as they helplessly succumbed to the unforgiving void below their feet.
Countless players had died because of him, but all he felt was a twisted sort of amusement.
Players had begun hunting him down, eager to return the server back to how it was, long before him.