Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Disfruta la isla… The Federation is always watching…? Then enjoy. the fucking. show."

Normally, Ash wouldn't be so on edge; so paranoid about every noise. Sure, paranoia would be there, but not… to this extent.

Of course, normally, he wouldn't be seeing things where others don't.

Normally, a puppet of the very thing he swears he'll destroy wouldn't be there.

Wouldn't be taunting him.

So when he hears the rustling of grass behind him, the supreme leader immediately points his sword at the intruder in his pondering palace and—

—It's just Haiper.

"Ash," the arctic fox says, not really minding the sword aimed at his heart. "…Are you good bro." He tilts his head like some sort of dog, tail drooping on the ground. Ash ignores that; it's just body language that betrays what his friend—no, underling, feels, and it's none of his business.

Instead, he sighs in annoyance, sitting back down on the bench overlooking the lavender fields. At least this place is safe. Moderately safe. That… mockery telling him what he already knew was something that made the fact debatable, but for once, Ashswag wished to believe that it was safe. That it wasn't compromised by that Federation, those white fucks that apparently knew everything, that controlled everything, that…

"Ash." Haiper sat down beside him, voice shaking Ash out of his thoughts. He sits as far away as he can, and Ashswag can't blame him. He's learned that the sickness of his underling might be contagious, after all.

…Ah, of course, right. Haiper asked a question—well, not exactly, but it counted in his books. As the supreme leader, he should respond; lest he be considered weak. (Would Haiper ever consider him so?)

"…Yes, well, I already told you about the whole thing with the Dutch, didn't I?" He replied, crossing his arms, gaze not once switching from the flower fields to Haiper; he was frowning. "And that… puppet of the Federation—of Cucurucho—that was just there. Unmoving, untouchable, unaffected…" A brief pause to swallow down what a leader shouldn't have. "And then the attack in the regime. Died in one shot, just like the Dutch. And Maximus, he… the Federation guard just straight up killed him. He said he felt like that death took something from him."

Ashswag shakes his head, sighing again, before putting his head in his hands; he feels the glitches on his face acting up—his skin feels wrong under his hands, the usual pins and needles of his glitches turning to the feeling of scratching and humming and pinching—and it's pathetic, really, because he's the supreme leader of the Regime. He is the strongest, and he is, frankly, the man with the most aura on the server—the most power in his hands.

And yet he lets himself succumb to paranoia.

He is weak for this. Weak and useless.

Haiper stays quiet by his side, listening, waiting for him to continue. He may be a killing machine, but he's always been a good listener… Ash would never tell him this, but he's a great person, and he's proud of him.

…He's getting off point, now. His mind is all over the place.

"…I don't…" He pipes back up, looking over at Haiper. Ash isn't sure what to say without… without admitting the fear he feels.

"Ash. I think it's fair to feel fear," Haiper responds once Ash seems to be done, and of course he knows what he's feeling; Haiper is observant, after all, "…but I think you need to calm down a little. If the Federation and Cucurucho attacks us, we can just fight back. We have that trap we're working on. And Tubbo is…" A pause; the both of them are unsure where Tubbo's loyalties lie with the Federation. But regardless, he is a member of The Regime, one of them, "…we probably don't have to worry about him being attacked. He doesn't seem too interested in breaking rules."

Ash sighs once again (he truly is feeling too much today), shaking his head with that frown that never seems to leave. "Haiper, you don't seem to understand. If they attack us, it's a show. A show of power. A m̷̩͠ò̵̩̘c̸̞͉̊k̶̳̈̽ẻ̸̙r̴͚͑y̸̌ͅ of us. They know—they t̵̥͑̋ḧ̵̠̲̔i̴̜̯̿n̸͠͝ͅk̴͍̰̍͌ they know that we can't do anything about them. Ä̶͙́̓ǹ̸͍d̸̝̊ͅ ̸̡̲̄t̵̢͐̊h̷͖̋͐e̷̯̋ẙ̵̮̘̂ ̵͓̇w̵͎̭͌a̵͓̟͐ń̵̞t̷̛͎͚̎ ̶̫͎̈́ṵ̶̊̎s̵̠̃ ̴̼̥̓͝t̴̯̍ō̵͚͠ ̷͘ͅk̴̎͜ñ̷͙ͅo̴̖̐͝w̶̡̾̂ ̸̳̬̃t̷̙̄h̷͓͗a̵̱̮͌̆t̶̜̘̓̋."

"I know, but we can take them down. Even if Tubbo doesn't seem to think so, we have a plan." Haiper looks back on the scenery, his tail popping up from beside him, wagging slightly; probably at the concept of using the Orbital Strike Cannon, or maybe at the thought of killing an admin—a god. "And stop thinking so much, the glitches are getting out of hand. I can't even understand you."

"…" Ash just laughs slightly, surprised at the shift in tone. "R̵͚͂̾ĩ̶̮͎g̷̯͘͝h̶̜́ṯ̸̛̋—Right. Sorry." He shakes his head, looking back at the fields. "The plan is good, man. I believe it'll—" Ash pauses.

There, in the distance.

He sees it.

That bear.

Immediately, he stands up. His war general makes a sound of surprise beside him.

"…We can't talk here, Haiper." No hesitation, all the strictness and intimidation he usually possesses when talking as the Supreme Leader is back. He never takes his eyes off that stupid smiling face in the distance, shoulders tense as his knuckles go white. He eats a golden apple and pulls out his axe, getting ready to fight.

"Dude, what are you talking about." Haiper seems confused—probably at the sudden change in attitude—but stands up with him regardless. This kid… The arctic fox looks in the same direction Ash is looking, then back at Ash. Does he not—? "What are you even looking at?"

…He doesn't see. He doesn't see.

Is this some sort of joke to you, Federation?

"…C̷̯̙͌̈́u̸̼̇c̴̟̄u̶̧͖̽r̵̭̦̐͂ų̸͓̓͋c̸̦͙͊͒h̶̜̒̋o̸̼̱͌̇ ̴̧̬̈́̆i̸̤̥͆́s̶͕̋͒ ̵̠̗́t̵̡̧̂h̶͋͛ͅe̶͇̞̓r̵̙̿ẹ̴̆.̴͕͆̕" The Supreme Leader says, and he knows it's barely audible past the distortion, but he can't help it—he draws his camera out of his inventory instead. A way to show Haiper what he's seeing, if he's even seeing it. If it's not real, it's probably just like the puppet he saw with the Dutch; it probably won't attack. He keeps his axe on standby anyway, just in case. "W̷͎̤̎̚a̶̻̓́ț̵̯̋c̴̭͝h̴̘̋̔ḭ̷̥̐n̷̞̓̀g̸̟͋ u̸s̵.̴ Do you seriously n̷̙̥̐ȍ̴̜̹̩̈́t̷̗̾̃̆ ̷̢̤̻́s̷̡̹̀ȇ̵̙ê̵̘̝̐ it?"

"…No," Haiper seems on edge now, too. He's looking where Cucurcho is, but nothing seems to register, for his gaze passes unseeing of the horrors before looking back at Ash, "I don't see it. I'm sorry."

"…Tsk." Ash takes a picture, then passes it to Haiper before looking back. "How cowardly of the Federation—Come out and f̷̛̦̼̬̈́̊͒̈́̿̑͋̍ͅa̸̛͍̜̺̩͎̬̫͋͐͂͆̽̚c̴̟͈̩̤̰̍̃e̸̝͎̪͔͖̐̕ ̶̡͔̾͌u̷̮̐̏ş̸̡̩̳̩̫̬͖͆̑̏͂̚ ̵̧͚̻͙̦̓̈." The assassin raises his voice pointedly. He was furious; how dare they toy with him and his family like this?

Cucurucho doesn't seem to move. Not at all. Just staring.

At his side, Haiper seems to draw his weapon out too. Ash isn't paying much mind to him, he's focused on that puppet. He's torn between wanting to go and face it, or leaving to continue his conversation with Haiper. Leaving this safe place that is no longer safe. (Was it ever?)

"…We should leave. Come on, Ash. It might not be real. I mean, didn't they show you a puppet before? There's nothing there on my screen, maybe it's just a bug."

…He has a point. It might not be real if only he sees it again… But he wants to test it first.

"…Hold on, Haiper." Ash doesn't pay his suggestion any mind, instead he begins approaching that puppet. It's in the trees, so it'll be a bit hard to get up, but he needs to try something first. He needs to figure out if it's like the first puppet. Haiper seems to follow him.

Yet when they get to the tree Ashswag saw the puppet in—

There is nothing there. Well, nothing is a stretch, there's…

"Are you gonna try to fight it?" Haiper asks from under the tree, under the impression that it's still there. He couldn't see it anyway.

So of course he couldn't see the mockery of that bears' smiling face that was left behind. It was a paper, but Ash didn't want to even touch it.

"…No." Ash pauses, swallowing. He hasn't gone insane. He hasn't. "It's gone, Haiper. It's… it's gone." He stares at what it left behind. It's like the Feds are specifically mocking HIM.

"…" Haiper just frowns, shaking his head again, going up to stand next to Ash. "…Let's just go back to the regime." He offers, placing a hand on Ash's shoulder.

"…Hold on. I need to check on…" Ashswag mutters, reloading the chunks so he can find his daughter.

"…Okay. I'll just… go back to the regime. I'll get some more pots for us. Something like that."

Distantly, he heard Haiper warp out. Only then did he start digging. As much as he trusted the fox, he just… he didn't want anyone to know where his daughter was right now.

Fortunately, even though she was under the tree where that puppet spawned, she was alive and well. The Federation didn't do anything to her—and he didn't know what he would do if they had.

(Well, he does know. He would've killed them all.)

"…Sorry, Ghosty." He started, patting her on the head—or trying to, since you can't really touch ghosts. She made a noise of anguish at him. He understood it; call it father's instinct. "…I know, I know—I promised to get you a room, didn't I? I'm sorry. I promise I'll start working on it soon—"

Ghosty cut him off with another noise. Ash sighed, exhasperated. "I can't just put you where they can harm and take you easily. I promise to move you out soon, okay?" He just shook his head. "It's still safer here for now."

This was making him feel less… paranoid. But more scared. What if the Federation ever took his daughter? He needs to make her safer soon. But he can't make her stay in a bunker her whole life, that's just… not fair.

Ghosty got him out his thoughts by making a confused noise, floating up from the boat to stand (float?) in front of him.

Shit, he made her worried—she only left the boat if she felt overly scared; she usually listened to his order of staying in this terrible little dirt bunker—which was good, because she could just decide to fly out of there, considering they can phase through blocks… but it's okay.

(After Son's death, he doubts his other daughter wants to make him feel worse. Which she could never, anyhow, but he's happy just how empathetic his daughter is. She clearly didn't get it from him.)

Another confused, worried noise.

"…Right, sorry Ghosty." He sighed again, this time hugging her awkwardly before letting go.

His communicator pinged.

A message from Haiper, asking him if he was coming to the regime…

"…Listen, I'll get you a room next time, I promise—" Ghosty made an angry sound. Ashswag ignored her, he has lots of reasons to keep her here a while longer, she just… wouldn't get them. "I'll be back, okay?"

And then he warpstoned out of that dirt hole before she could protest once more.

There's one thing Ash knows for certain now—The Pondering Palace isn't safe anymore.

(…He needs to move Ghosty out as soon as he's able to.)

Unfortunately, there were more where that came from.

Yet another day… Today, Tubbo was working on the KFC renovations, and Ash was getting curious. After Katie left for her… vacation, Tubbo got straight into continuing the work. Apparently, Molly and her employees had stopped by to see. And Ashswag didn't really have anything better to do—and he didn't want to be in one place for too long, because then who knows who could be listening.

(Nowhere was safe to stay.)

Though, there didn't seem to be work being done on anything right now—Tubbo had left a while back to work on more regime stuff, according to the message he got on his communicator, and Molly looked to instead be chatting with Ewron at the spawn… tower… thing.

"Oh, wow! ¡Que lindo que tu tienda tiene tantos clientes! Me encanta la elegancia que tiene," Molly, as she giggled, was complimenting Ewron on his store… well, at least those two were getting along, regardless of the essentially competing businesses. Ash would hate to have to choose between the mission of slaughtering the server and his friendship with Molly.

…That might become a problem in the future… when he does have to choose and all.

"Oh, yes, I enjoy your incomplete Hello Kitty Cafe as well, Molly." Ewron looked like he was soaking in the praise, all proud and happy. What a freak. At least he was complimenting Molly backed, she deserved it. "If you ever need workers… Ewronka is free!" He winked at her. What the absolute hell. What even is an Ewronka..?

"Ay, ¡sí, sí! Me encantaría tenerte como empleado, ¿sabes? Pareces bueno en ser una sirvienta," Molly exclaimed, smiling happily, hands held up in surprise. She turned to look at the side of spawn where the three competing businesses—and a few on the side, like Katie's Therapee and the remains of the concrete store—rested. She looked like she was about to say something, before she noticed Ash and got excited.

"Ash! Hola! Es muy bueno verte otra vez!" The princess of the north exclaimed, waving happily at Ash.

All he himself seemed to do was stare at Ewron.

"Ewron, no quieres—ah, ¿no le quieres decir hola?"

Ewron stays suspiciously quiet.

Ash keeps staring at him.

…Molly just stands there looking between them, a little confused.

"…Okeeey…" She eventually pipes up. "Como estáis? Estáis bien? No he tenido muchas oportunidades a hablar contigo, Ash!" She smiles. Ash really likes how absolutely strong she is. What an icon.

Ash and Ewron finally looked away. Ash, himself, just crosses his arms before looking at Molly, while Ewron (he thinks) pouts like a toddler. Who does this kid think he is?

Ash just sighs. He doesn't want to disappoint Molly "…Yes." He left Ewron a laurka in the polish cave anyway. The man is just being dramatic for the sake of it. And he himself is just being auraful. "…Sorry, I haven't gotten to talk to you much, Molly. I did miss you." He turned to Ewron again, ignoring the many sounds around—spawn was always too chaotic for his liking. "We're doing good. Right, Ewron?"

"…Of course, Ash!" Ewron pipes up, giggling. What. Was this kid laughing at him? Tsk… What a weirdo. "Me and Katie are best friends now, yes yes! So I guess I can forgive you! Only if you say sorry." He seemed so giggly for no reason. Man, this server is weird.

"…Right." Ash decides to just shake his head and turn around. "…I guess I apologize for what I did." He leaves out the details; as much as he would love to tell Ewron that he thought their common goal was above this, he can't exactly do it here. When Molly—and whoever, whatever else—may be watching.

(…whoever else may be watching…)

…What the actual fuck is wrong with everyone on this server. Ewron continues laughing at him, so Ash spins around to glare. "Stop laughing."

Ewron didn't. Molly even started laughing along.

Wow.

"…I'm leaving." Ash, embarrassed, runs off back towards the eerily empty KFC—Soon, it'll be bustling with people.

…

Seriously, what is up with those two? Molly and Ewron… At least they seemed to hit it off well.

A little too well, maybe? Oh, who knows.

(Are those his own footsteps around? He's probably hearing mob footsteps—that's what the popup usually means.)

He hears a yell from behind him—Molly. "Espera, Ash, vuelve! No quisimos fastidiarte!" She's still laughing through it. Though, he supposes he'll forgive her—she's just too funny to not forgive. He wasn't gonna forgive Ewron, though.

Either way, he sighs, turns around, and starts walking back to the Spawn tower.

Ewron seems to laugh harder when he spots him again. This kid…

"…Molly, I forgive you." He immediately says. Ewron looks at him like he's expecting something. Ashswag ignores him, choosing instead to keep looking around. "It's okay, you could never annoy me, Molly. You're just too cool for that."

"Ay, gracias, Ash." Molly is back to smiling. "Verás—quieres otra pelea entre amigos? Creo que será buena para ti, ¿no?"

"Uh, no, no, Molly, I think that one was enough. I really, really do not want to hurt you…" Ash said through his teeth. Violence and blood… he yearns for it. Maybe—

"Ash, Kurwa, where is my forgiveness?" Ewron interrupts, huffing as he dramatically crosses his arms. This kid, bro. "You forgive Molly so easily but not me? Ok I guess I will just go fuck myself!"

Ash just sighs because he really does not want to deal with this today. He's already feeling so off, so paranoid, he really doesn't need to deal with Ewron's bullshit today. "Man, you're so weird."

"Just forgive me, bro." Ewron shoots back, pouting as he crosses his arms. This—This kid, bro. Thirty, by the way.

"Dejar de pelearse, chicos… todos podemos ser amable." Molly tries to interrupt. Her word, unfortunately, isn't given much mind.

Ash crosses his arms and turns around, huffing. What a loser, bro. Not Molly—Molly's cool. He pulls out his warpstone to teleport away, mostly because he thinks that would be a little funny, as he stares at the stores all lined up and—Is that fucking Cucurucho in the KFC window?

Ashswag just straight up freezes to stare, subconsciously pulling out his axe. Is he tripping? The KFC has a lot of white, and it is quite far… No, he can't doubt himself, he's the Supreme Leader of the Regime, damn it. He has aura he can't lose.

…Fuck, that is Cucurucho. His ugly fucking cumstain smile.

"Ash? Are you okay?" Ewron pipes up as Molly also asks about his wellbeing ("Oye, Ash, Estás bien?" or something) because of the sudden change in behaviour, the two of them coming up to stand beside him. "Listen, if it's about me begging you to say sorry, I still want you to because I have no shame and you should know that—"

"Do you or do you not see that f̸͍͑̅̇͌̀̏͋̽ų̶̪͎͍͓̀͗̐ĉ̵̡̛͖̭̯̮̌̀ķ̸̇͆i̵̠̩̪̤̙̯͔̦̾̽̃̈́͝n̶̳͔̖̜̒̎̀̚͝ḡ̸̺̲̬͉ ̶̡̳̯̤̩̎͐͑̇̎̀̍͝p̷̡̳̝͕̳͗̄̿ͅȗ̷̥̚͝p̸̠̻͎̙̎̌̌̑̈́͜p̴̨̱̻͔͑̈́e̶̥̣͖̍̀̈́͊̓͘ţ̷̭͕̘̬̄̀͆ͅ.̵̧͎̭̟͉̪͛̓̇̀̚" Ash jumps in, lowering his voice, gaze still locked onto said puppet—he always has to keep looking at it.

He swears it wasn't there before. When he jokingly ran away towards the KFC. He would've seen it then, right? But it wasn't there.

"…Estás bien, Ash? Es que yo no veo nada..." Molly mutters, looking over at Ewron, probably insanely confused. He has no doubt the pair behind him are both insanely confused.

"Yeah, Ashswag, are you going a little crazy up there? There is nothing. Unless you mean the disgusting KFC." Ewron jokingly replied, also confused.

Nonetheless, he could feel Ewron ready his blade as Molly gripped her battle-axe tighter behind him; regardless of the two being unable to see anything, it seems they trusted him enough to get ready for a fight, trusted him enough to take him seriously. Would be sweet to think about if he wasn't busy.

…Because fuck, it's happening again.

They can't see Cucurucho, but he can. Why the fuck is the Federation singling him out? He hasn't done anything illegal yet. And they're not leading him to a chest like they supposedly did to the Dutch… or was it the polish? One of them. And yet, he sees. Why? Why the fuck is he implicated in this? Sure, he's been campaigning against them—but not too publicly, has he? What, are they finally going through on their words of governments outside the Federation not being allowed?

Is this just a show? Because there is no power in this. Is it just a taunt?

"…" He just breathes heavily, deciding on what to do.

He can pretend he's going insane, and hurt the trust he has with Molly, and the trust he has with Ewron. Or he can show them a picture. And that would let them know he's having troubles with the Feds.

…It's a pretty easy choice; he shouldn't have had to think about it. Because for all he would rather not, you know, expose such a weakness, he prefers the Federation having more enemies.

Fuck the feds.

"Seriously, what do you see, bro?" Ewron tries again, now beside him as Molly comes to his other side. What a team…

Ash pulls out a camera and takes a photo. These always work. Somehow, they can't hide themselves from photos, despite being able to hide from other players… how peculiar. What are these admins even doing? If it was a ploy to make him seem crazy, why would they do the rest of the bullshit? Like showing up on photos? If it's on purpose, then… why?

"…Here." Ash passes the photo to Molly, shaking himself out of his thoughts, who gasps upon seeing it. Then he takes a few steps closer and takes another picture to pass it to Ewron. "There's a Cucurucho right there. Just… staring at me. Fucking puppet. I told them before—come out and fight me instead, assholes."

The glitches on Ash's face are, at this point, tweaking the hell out. Neither of these two have seen them this bad—well, maybe Ewron while they were arguing, but he's never pointed it out. Molly, though, seems quite worried about them.

"Okej, vamos a calmarnos, chicos…" Molly took Ash by the shoulders to make him look at her. "Cálmate un poquito, Ash. Puede ser que solo, eh… que solo es algo que estás viendo por el estrés, cálmate…"

Ash looked into her eyes, while hers seemed to be worriedly jumping from the glitches to his own eyes. He can distantly feel the sensation of wrong on his shoulders—but he's not focusing on that. Her mouth is moving but Ash doesn't understand—he's more focused on her expression.

Molly… she seems really genuine about wanting him to calm down; a little distraught about it, even. Does she… not believe him?

She's shaking him again, slightly. Still speaking. For once, she's going fast—not at that practiced, slow tone, but quicker. Because she's worried.

He looks up at the translation box to see what she's saying and… it, it seems like she does believe him. The translation doesn't catch all of it, but from the context… Oh. She's just worried about the glitches. Trying to say that maybe, maybe if he calms down he'll be able to piece it together.

"…" He just takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe.

Obviously, Molly is wrong—he knows what he's seeing. He can already piece it together. He knows that damn puppet is there just to taunt him. But he doesn't want to make her more sad and worried for him.

…Well, he doesn't want anyone to feel that for him. All they should feel is fear. But sometimes you must compromise. He's willing to let Molly be an exception this once.

As he calms down, he can feel the sensation of pins and needles on the right side of his face (was it the right side? he never cares to remember) calm down and be more… manageable, a bit more muted. Not back to the regular levels, but good enough.

Ash takes one last breath before opening his eyes. Molly lets go of him with worry on her face.

"…Right, my… my apologies." He clears his throat, backing up and dusting himself off (not to say Molly is dirty, he just felt like doing that). "I'll aim to be… calmer about being stalked in the future."

He feels a bit mean for saying that to Molly after he says it, but he can't take it back. It's right.

Molly just nods. "Bueno, vale… solo es que no quiero que sufras. Y que esos glitch en tu cara no son tan… bueno, tan agresivos." She still seems a little worried. He'll have to tell her more later. "No los he visto glitchear tanto hasta ahora… siempre son muy calmados…"

But first he has to deal with that puppet.

But when he turns around to look at the KFC again—it's gone. Nothing in the window.

. . .

What the fuck?

"…Wow, I can't believe Cucurucho likes the opposition more." Ewron jokes when too many moments of silence pass… Ash honestly forgot the guy was here, he was being too quiet. "I think we should all go beat it up just for not being in Žabka instead—"

"…It's gone." Ash whispers.

Not even he can comprehend it.

It's gone again.

But he didn't even go to it this time.

"…Wait, what? Are you sure?" Ewron seems surprised and—is that concern? Hopefully fucking not.

Molly, just frowns before she starts walking ahead to the KFC, muttering under her breath. "Pero en el foto sí estaba, no puede ser que tan rápido ha desaparecido…"

Ewron then looked at Ash and nodded once before following her.

For a few moments as the two walked ahead, Ash just kinda… stood there. Thinking. Pondering, even.

Why was it gone so quick this time?

…Is he even gonna have time to photograph it, if it happens again?

That's…

…It shook him out of his thoughts when Ewron started tugging him along to the KFC. Bastard cockroach; Ash immediately shook him off to walk alone.

Alas, when they all reached it, the bear was nowhere to be found.

In fact, there was almost nothing…

…Except, again, a little drawn smiley face.

This time, it was on a paper, though…

…And, most importantly…

Ewron and Molly could obviously see it.

Because the first one who noticed it was Molly with a little confused "qué es esto…" turning it once before she handed it over to him.

"…Well. The two of you can see this, at least." Ash sighed, turning over the paper.

"It seems it left behind some sort of proof." Ewron said, then hummed like he was a video game character thinking. This kid—grown ass man, by the way—never failed to get on his nerves. Can't he be fucking serious for once?

…There was just a number on the back of the paper. He'll keep that in mind—actually, he'll write it down later; he's sure he has a book lying around somewhere.

But for now? He's gonna keep that number to himself. So he puts the paper into his inventory, turning back to the two.

Molly and Ewron both pipe up, with different tones of concern.

"Espera, Ash, que estuve allí?—"

"…Ash, don't be rash—"

…The dictator in questions cuts them off.

"—Ladies, Gentlemen… I'll leave now. Just in case. Have fun around here, yeah?"

And before neither Molly nor Ewron could protest—he was teleporting straight out of there.

Those Feds always did like hanging around Spawn.

Now, of course, there were more issues he had to focus on, so he put destroying the Federation to the back of his mind for a minute.

…See, there was still the whole issue with the radiation sickness.

Of course, Ash hadn't gotten much of a chance to speak with Multi about curing Haiper. Though, that changes today.

(Better than staying stationary.)

He stood at the entrance of the cave for a second, looking around, making sure nothing—nobody was nearby, nobody that didn't belong, at least, before immediately heading in.

It never hurt to be careful.

When he entered, he was first greeted by the sight of Graf and Nexe—he should probably talk to those two soon as well, but he has a goal right now—chatting it away in Polish.

He ignores the two, though they seem to be arguing about something—if he looks at the bubbles, it seems Graf is being seen as suspicious? Ash already thought he was, in any case.

Then he spots a little scientist in the corner of the cave.

…

Wow. Is he speaking to himself in the corner?

Well.

He just needs to speak to him, anyhow.

Ash approaches Multi quietly; all that can be heard in the cave is chatting, dulled by the pillars yet echoed through the space. And Multi's quiet mumblings; he seems to be talking about some sort of… Ashswag looks at the translation which doesn't seem to be picking up anything Multi is saying. Shame, it seems he will never know.

"Multi." He calls out from right behind him. Only when the scientist does turn around, crazed look in his glowing, toxic green eyes—were they always that color?—does Ash continue. "…I need to talk to you about the reactor."

"Tak więc ten skurwiel chce teraz gadać o reaktorze, do którego włamał się jego szpieg…" Multi mutters again, though this time the translator picks it up, just barely.

It even makes Ash chuckle. "How rude. But yes, I do really need to talk to you about it. I need a cure, Multi. And I will do whatever for you to make it." He… can't lose Haiper.

"Tak, tak… No, nie ma lekarstwa. Nie planuję go stworzyć. Ale przypuszczam, że jeśli dasz mi to, czego potrzebuję... może uda mi się je stworzyć." Multi grins wildly. He's still speaking in polish; he usually does that with an important topic, no? From what Ash remembers, anyway.

(He hears footsteps crouch up near them, not too close, but not faraway either. Graf, perhaps? Nexe? Or maybe both of them.)

Looking up at the translation… "…I can get you whatever you need. I just need the cure." He looks back down at white playboy cardi. "Whatever you need… a sacrifice, blood spilled, resources… I'll get it." For Haiper, goes unsaid. "And if I don't get that cure I'll raise this world to the ground."

"Hmm…" Multi hums, thinking for a second, that unsettling, creepy smile not too different from Cucurucho's everpresent on his face. "Dobrze. Cóż, nie jestem pewien, czego potrzebuję do leczenia... ale zawsze doceniłbym kolejną ofiarę." The crazy scientist gets all up in his face, observing. "Może powinieneś się zaoferować. Chciałbym zobaczyć, jakiego rodzaju DNA ktoś taki jak ty mi da..."

Ash backs up a moment.

…He has to do this. For Haiper. He would rather not, really, but… well.

"…How about we talk more in the reactor?" The supreme leader asks, turning around, hands behind his back. Just… observing the cave. Nexe and Graf are no longer arguing, and now they're just… listening to them, it seems. Little eavesdroppers… he commends them for their ability to be so silent. However, not silent enough.

Multi, too, seems to notice them. He looks unphased. "Mogą nas podsłuchiwać, nie obchodzi mnie to." Unbothered. Hm. Alright then…

"I myself would prefer our discussion to be private, Multi." Ash doesn't take his eyes off the two Poles. He hears a quiet "kurwa pendejo". Hah, how pathetic. Thinking they could eavesdrop so obviously in their own cave without being noticed.

"Ash, nie masz tu miejsca, by stawiać żądania." Multi moves to stand beside him. It's a show to look more intimidating, but Ash himself only thinks it makes him look stupid. Pathetic, even. Tsk. He looks over at him once before looking back at the three eavesdroppers.

…Three?

Multi takes his frozen silence only interrupted by heavy breathing as a sign to continue. "Na wypadek, gdybyś nie pamiętał, to ty błagasz mnie o stworzenie lekarstwa dla swojego podwładnego. A—"

"H̴͈͍͕̖̠͊͌̽ǫ̶̻͚̿͆̉͝͝l̷̝̞͂͜d̶̨̈͊̕͠ ̸̢̪̿̉̋́ő̴͎̓̀̀n̴̘̫͇̼̬̽͝.̶̖͐́͘" Ash puts up a hand, which stops Multi due to the sheer audacity. Not that he should be surprised—this is the supreme leader of The Regime, after all. "C̷͇̪̙̻̎͊̓͝u̴̼̖̰͂c̵̼̞̑̓u̶̬̰͔̳͉̓r̵̺̞̖͋̽̈u̴̽̌̓̅͘͜c̵͚̺͉̽̇̍́h̴̟͖̰̳͙̎͌o̸̬̮̔ ̸̤̖̅i̴̞̫̗̣͖̅s̶͇̒ ̷̩̣̯̩̄͒͜͠l̵̰̀̀ḯ̸̲̪̑s̶̳̗̫̤͘ţ̸̙̬̬̿̎e̸̦̼͕̝͙͛ń̴͍̿̄̀̈́ȉ̷̢̮̞̒ṉ̷̗̣̝̓̒̃͝g̸̥͈̹̗͆͒̆̃.̷͕̠̱̮̪̍"

"??? Co? Nie masz żadnego zmysłu." He's managed to confuse the crazy scientist. Okay. Okay, sure. Nobody else can see fucking Cucurucho again, that's just—absolutely incredible. Yup. Can't even negotiate with Multi in peace.

Ashswag pulls out a camera to take a photo. "D̷͈̰̏ō̶̡̼̺̩̝̎̅̋̚ ̵͚̪͈̔̄͝ý̵̛̥͚̙o̷̰̓̓u̸̡̯̘̲͌̒͆̇̈́ͅ—Do you ha̵̭̣̍̐̏v̵̡͙̩̓̾ͅe any pa̵̼̎p̷̤͍̲͉̱̐͒̓͠er̴͓̼̘͔̈́̌͒?" He asks, not finding any in his own inventory, and, shit, he needs to stock up on paper, because this keeps happening. He swore he had paper in his backpack, but it's not there…

"Tak, tak, tutaj. Pokaż mi, co widzisz." Multi immediately throws him the paper; the scientist seems incredibly intrigued rather than anything. Fuck, does he not care about the Feds watching him? Crazy guy… well, he already knew that the moment he showed him the nuclear reactor.

"Thank you. Let me take a, a photo—" Ash turns to actually take the photo, but by then… Cucurucho, or well, the puppet that bears it's name, is gone. He's paused in his tracks yet again.

Fuck.

"Ash, halo? Zrób zdjęcie.." Multi urges him, but—

…He can't take a photo if the subject of it is gone. Ash feels his stomach drop—pathetically weak of him, he knows, but…

What a cruel display of power, Federation.

Tsk.

…

…So uselessly pathetic.

"…It's gone, Multi. It's not there anymore." Ash states quietly, ashamed. "It's gone. Fucking damn it…"

"Co do cholery masz na myśli, że to zniknęło?! Nie mogło zniknąć tak szybko. Jesteś pewien, że to widziałeś?" Multi desperately told him; though, Nexe seemed to be patting him on the shoulder apologetically—when did Nexe get here? He let his guard down too much. He was too focused on the puppet—"Agh, co za ból! W końcu myślałem, że mogłem..." The crazy scientist seems so disappointed, mumbling this under his breath.

"W porządku, Multi, może następnym razem. Jestem pewien, że możesz z tym porozmawiać." Graf—apparently, he's here too, fuck, he needs to pay attention to everything, he needs to stop getting so focused on certain things—tells him, grafly. Nexe just stands there patting them on the back, giving comfort.

(The polish cave is tighter-knit than it seems. He files this info away for later.)

Ash shakes himself out of it and walks away from the three, towards where it was, shaking his head and just breathing. Only Graf seems to follow behind.

…A piece of paper is left behind, yet again.

"Nie, tak, naprawdę to widzę." Graf says, also staring at the paper. Well, at least it seems the Feds aren't able to make papers only visible to a single person yet, just like photos… so there is tangible proof that the puppets exist. That it's not just his paranoia turning him crazy. That it's real. And gods, does that give him some sort of relief. "Ale co z tym zrobisz?"

"…I think I have… a lot to think about, Graf." Ash sighed. He doesn't trust this guy—he needs to talk about it with someone he actually can trust, like… Like Haiper, or Maximus, or maybe even Tubbo. "I'll see you and the rest of the Poles around."

"Ash, poczekaj chwilę, muszę wiedzieć więcej—a ty wciąż się trzęsiesz, może zostań trochę dłużej—"

Ash doesn't let him finish his sentence before he's out of there.

(Looking at the note later, there's another number. Two numbers, actually.)

(…He needs to look into what they mean as soon as possible.)

Exploring with Phil was always fun.

Of course, it was nice, too; he was able to be less paranoid, all the way out here, thousands of blocks from spawn and from the rest of civilization, simply running around from dungeon to dungeon collecting loot with this absolute legend of a man that is Philza Minecraft.

See, the two had met up at spawn by pure chance—Ash was heading back to The Regime after speaking with Maximus about plans to take down the Federation, while Philza seemed to be heading to spawn to just look around. Ash did… somewhat show him around spawn (at least, around KFC and Žabka), but then Phil asked if he wanted to have a peek at the new improvements on his house island thing, and Ash agreed, and that spiralled into the two of them looting dungeons. Kind of like the first time.

Dungeons upon dungeons defeated by the crow and the glitch.

Though, then they stumbled upon some sort of airship—

"Oh, dude, on the last island, when I looted one of these for the first time, I fought god. In iron armor, unenchanted… and still lived to tell the tale. LOL." Phil laughed as he slashed another skeleton. Watching this old man fight was a little entertaining.

"…God?" Ashswag hummed, looting a chest. "So… Cucurucho?" He continued searching through the chest. Iron, couple of arrows, a few diamonds… nothing too interesting. He did take the diamonds, though.

"Nah, mate, like… I'm preeetty sure it was the code monster, actually. I might've been the first one to see it…" The crow hummed out, killing the last mob present and turning to also collect the shiny loot.

(The sensation of pins and needles on his face increases.)

Ash, however, is surprised at the mention of it—this code monster. He hasn't learned too much about it—he's pretty sure Phil told him about it showing up in the rain, so to hear it fought Phil for… what, getting good items? is a bit of a shock. "…Can you tell me more about this code monster?" He turned to Phil, pretty certain of there not being any monsters left in this airship. "There's nothing left in this airship anymore, so tell me the story while we explore for another dungeon." He turned to jump off with his paraglider, the other following not too far behind.

"…Well, it's really not that important of a story, mine about the Code, I mean. But the code monster… Phew, it was…" Philza sighed. Ash was pretty sure he said something else, probably calling the Code monster something, but it was a bit difficult to hear properly when gliding down from the sky, especially with the scuff that distance sometimes did to people's hearing. Phil, too, seemed to realize, and he just looked tired. Man, maybe he should tell him to retire.

Anyway, he shut up until the two of them were on the ground.

Then he kept speaking.

"Well, let me tell you about what the Code monster did to us, cause man was it fucked." Philza sighed. Ash stayed quiet to hear him continue on. "It was, like, it kept attacking us and trying to kill our kids, dude. It was strong as shit, too, like—level two-fifty sharpness or something, basically downed you in one hit. Crazy strong. The one that showed up for me though wasn't… as strong, and stuff. It was, like, a scaled down version of the real threat." The crow explained, still walking forward, turning around sometimes to look at Ash. "After that first encounter, though, it became, like—so fucking strong. It always rained whenever it attacked, too, so it basically conditioned us to fear the weather. Fucking ass Codes." The old man chuckled bitterly.

He stayed silent as the other explained; this was… interesting. Codes, huh… Codes… not too far off from his own kind; not too different from a glitch. In reality, was a glitch not simply code gone wrong?

Well, it's not like he's related to them in any way, regardless. Just… a nice coincidence.

…Fuck, he needs to listen to Philza; this is important.

"—And hear this—this one time, dude, they legit dressed up as my children. It was fucked. Pretend to be them and all—obviously, I could tell it wasn't them from the first look. Tallulah only shook her maracas to get my attention to get me to read a sign, and Chayanne just… acted wrong."

He looked a little distressed over this. Over his kids. His possibly dead kids. Ashswag can't blame him; he remembers how he felt when Son died. At least his other daughter is alive and well, though—fuck, he needs to move her out the dirt bunker soon…

Philza piped up again to continue, "This was during the elections, so the Code Monsters were probably doing it to, like, sneak into the Election dinner and kill the candidates. Except for ElQuackity, probably… but who knows." How did this… crow even remember this? Ash has heard about the whole "angel of death" thing, he knows the man is immortal because of it. If he is immortal, and he has lived as long as Ash's instincts say he has, maybe he just… thought it was important to remember? Or maybe he's just an archivist. "Fucking… as soon as they revealed themselves—which, at that point I had already told Fit and… someone else, I think—maybe Cellbit?—" Ash takes note of that name, filing it away for later, "—that those weren't my kids—but as soon as they revealed themselves I passed out for, like, a solid few minutes, mate. It sucked."

"…I see." The boy didn't have anything to say—as an assassin, as a soldier, and as a leader, he knows how terrible it is to have people pretend to be close to you, but he doesn't think he's ever had something like this happen to him… "…Did anything else happen after that?" He doesn't think the Codes would just… leave after that. He wants to hear firsthand, though, despite his suspicions about what might've happened—most likely a fight, if they were there to kill the candidates, like Phil said.

"…Oh, yeah; once I woke up, they teleported me inside the dome—that's where the election dinner was happening, by the way—to fight the Codes. Pretty fucking shitty, to pretend to be my kids, then make me fight Code monsters that still had the names of my kids." The crow still seemed mad about it—scars like that don't close up easily. He would know from experience. But Philza seemed to cheer up, recalling the next part, at least. "…Luckily my good friend—his name is Etoiles, by the way. Loves fighting, maybe you would've been friends—he was teleported into the dome with me. A lot of people broke in afterwards, too. We all managed to defeat the Codes that were there, and I even got the last hit… good old days."

"…That's nice to hear." Ashswag nods, standing beside Phil—when did he stop? Oh, maybe because there's a cliff infront of them. "…What did these… Codes, look like?" It seems all Ash had for Phil were questions, but… well, a source of information about the past actions of the Feds, or of old entities from the previous island, was very valuable. Valuable, and just… nice to hear. It was nice to be informed.

"…Oh, mate, they were just—" Phil paused, thinking. Maybe his old mind was failing him this time—but then he turned to look at Ash, looking him up and down, before he started again. "—They kind of looked like you, actually. Like, more… more binary, and stuff. Like, they were black and green, with ones and zeros on them. But they did look similar to you, a little. They had, like—these particles in their respective colors coming out of them, like the glitches on your face, but practically everywhere…"

…Interesting.

"…Right." Now it was Ash's turn to ponder—they looked kinda like him, huh.

…

Well, he's just a normal player, anyway.

"…But, yeah, that's, like—kind of all of it. Not much else to say about the Code… well, except that we had a system—if it came, we just fucking spammed "t" in the chat. Quick and easy way to signal for help, y'know." He sighed, starting to climb down the cliff now that Ash had caught up.

"…Hmm. I see…" The glitch felt like a broken record, at this point. He really didn't have anything to add, though. He was just… thinking. While simultaneously climbing down the cliff with Phil, of course. Codes… Pretty cool. But also suspicious. He can't explain it, he just… feels off about this topic. Something that doesn't sit right with him.

Maybe he's just on edge.

They're probably related to the Federation in some way—everything from the last island seems to be.

"Yup! They were pretty cool once you, like, didn't think about them being fucking murder machines, though." Phil sighed. "Shame there's nothing good to fight on this island."

"…Right, enough about those Codes—thank you for the info, and… Well, I have…" Ash paused for a second. Was this a good moment to bring it up? To share some info in exchange? Not that he owed Phil any, he just…

(His hands shake at his sides. The glitches on his face slightly worse than usual. He's just on edge due to the… situation. Nothing else. He isn't anxious. Nor is he paranoid. He's just weak.)

He trusted Philza. The man just had that trustful aura.

He's also very aware that the crow would most likely keep his mouth shut about it if he was told to; he's a wise, wise crow. He wouldn't want to make an enemy out of someone strong, much less an entire strong faction.

"Yeah, mate?" The immortal paused to turn around and look up at him with a smile. Fuck it, he's definitely skilled at making others let their guard down—Ash needs to stay observant with him. Not that Phil uses it to harm people, but he could. Just… just in case.

The glitch looks around inconspicuously. Nothing around. No Feds—well, they're always listening, he's learned that the hard way, but none of their puppets are present here.

(Not yet, at least.)

"…The Feds have been monitoring me with puppets that don't respond to hits. Or at least, the first one didn't. The rest, I didn't have time to get over to them and hit them." He finally reaches the bottom of the cliff, walking again, taking a deep breath. Philza follows after, now behind since he paused at the bottom to wait for him. He's listening intently—and the crows following him are as silent as ever, doing the same. "The thing is, Philza… nobody else can see these Cucuruchos. These… puppets. They disgust me, Phil."

(His hands shake behind his back. How pathetic.)

"…So they're stalking you." Phil's voice turned serious. He trusts that I'm telling the truth. Maybe it's because Phil was from the old island—because he knew what the Federation was like—that he believed him. "But nobody can see them?"

"…Essentially, yes. They're trying to make me seem paranoid to the rest of the inhabitants of the island while they stalk me, thinking they'll get away scot-free." Ash huffed, turning to a nearby tree to grip it—he has no idea when the mountainous terrain became a forest, but maybe it's just weird generation—because he needed something to grip, something to destroy. He feels like he's two seconds from being pushed over the edge of craziness. Of blood thirst. Of insanity. Of… something; whatever it is. "They want me to look crazy, Philza."

But that didn't really add up.

Why would they leave papers with numbers if all they wanted to do was make him seem crazy?

What the fuck did the Feds even want with him?

Ash's hands shake like crazy, even despite holding on to the tree. The tree bark changes under his palms; phasing in and out of existence, just like the parts of him near those glitches. Visually, there is no change—but he can feel it happen. Like it always has.

Fuck it, why do they have to do this to me?

The glitches travel further on his face, covering his other eye, nearly reaching the neck, even.

(Because you are pathetic. Because you are weak. Because you hold too much care where there should be none.)

His throat feels like it's on fire—or maybe that's just a side effect of phasing in and out of the abyss—and he just shakes.

(Schlatt was right about you.)

"…I get it, mate." Philza sighed, grabbing him by the shoulder, a chill passing through the glitch's entire body. The crow seems to be eyeing the glitches on his face for a second—they're acting up again, why are they always acting up nowadays?—then on his hands; but after taking it in, he doesn't pay it any mind. Just speaking to Ash sincerely. It's muffled—but he can still make it out. "You're not crazy. The Feds are fucking with your mind. They just play unfairly; they play with paranoia and exploit it. This is the exact same shit they pulled on the first island."

He jolts slightly at the touch. A little delayed, yes, because… because he was focusing on something else.

…

So much for being a fascist.

Can't even handle a little touch, fucking useless.

"…I know." Ash breathes out, letting go of the tree slowly, just closing his eyes for a second as he swats the glitches away with a shaky hand. "I'm aware they're messing with me. With my mind. That is what's pissing me off. I know what they are doing and I'm falling for it. Like a rat running to cheese even though it knows it's a trap." So… pathetic. That's how he sounds. Pathetic, with his voice shaking like a little coward.

He keeps breathing.

In, out.

Philza just keeps that hand on his shoulder. It's… grounding. Don't get him wrong. He just prefers not to be touched—he can feel pins and needles where the hand is positioned, it's just a side effect of being a glitch, he thinks—but it does help sometimes, Ash supposes. Even if Phil's touch makes the glitch part of him scream. Even if it still feels like a wrongness is overtaking him in situations like this. It's just the caring part of his heart he tries to get rid of, anyhow.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"…There you go." Phil doesn't take his hand off. "Calmed down, yeah?"

"…" Ash clears his throat, opening his eyes as he shrugged off Phil's hand, taking a few steps away. That's enough vulnerability for now. Even if the static in his chest has yet to subside. "…My apologies, Philza Minecraft." He chuckled tightly, the noise warped. "Just a little… hindrance."

In, out.

Shuffling from behind him; not the sound of a body shuffling, but rather something a little different in size and shape. A little smaller. A crow, possibly. Then a little chirp from one of his crows followed by another few sound out; they finally stopped being eerily silent.

Phil seems to ponder while the crows keep chirping at him.

Ash shakes his head, walking forward. There's still that feeling in his gut, that static in his chest, that wrongness of his hands—but he's unsure that will ever go away, so for now, he'll remember to ignore it. He puts his hands behind his back as he walks—the aura move, of course. It's stupid, but it looks cool. "Walk with me, Phil. Walk with me."

"…Sure, mate…" The old crow replies hesitantly, but follows behind nonetheless—Ash can feel the aura of death creep closer and stay behind him.

"…Yes, so that has been happening… as I've said. I told you about my daughter named Son before as well…" Ash hums, walking through the forest. He thinks it might be the same biome as where they built The Regime. "…But that's about it. They haven't done ANYTHING past that. And that annoys me. I want the Feds to just show up and fight me already, at least. It would be better than to just… stand around." He sighed, pondering. "But maybe it would be better to trap a Federation worker instead… A cage for a cage, or… something."

Phil seemed to freeze slightly at those words—Ash was unsure why, but he could feel that chilling aura freeze in place as he kept walking. Regardless, it got closer again a few moments afterwards. "So… you want to kidnap the Feds? What, like… the cameraman? I don't… The consequences of that wouldn't be worth it, Ash."

Abruptly, Ash stops and points his sword at Phil. "A̵̧̛̜͓̜̞̼̻͓͌̿͋͋̂̽̓͜r̷͚̩͓͖͔̳̽͊͂̄e̷̡͕̻̺̣̲̹͙͕̭̗͒̎̕ ̵̬̝͚̙̲̩̘̭̳̳̹͑̂̊̌̚̕͘ͅy̷̰̆̊o̴̻̗̿u̴͎̩͐̔ͅ in or a̷͙͋̐ṟ̷̨̈̚e̵̝̝̔̐ ̵̡͐̀y̷o̴u̵ not in." His voice warps around the edges, full of tension. The crow doesn't even flinch.

(…Fuck, he's being such an asshole. Well, he's never had the reputation of being a kind man.)

"…I'm just giving you some warnings, mate." The immortal shakes his head; he doesn't seem mad, and if anything, he just seems concerned. Huh. "I wasn't gonna join you in kidnapping fed employees anyway… god knows I've already experienced what they do as punishment. But by all means—if you want to get kidnapped, go ahead." He lightly pushes Ash's sword down so it's not pointing at him anymore. "I don't play their games."

"…" Ashswag simply tsks and turns around again, a little… not surprised, not upset, just… a little disappointed; he's supposed to be a feared leader. And yet he's here making a fool out of himself. "…Right, right. Well, I think otherwise… but I'm not about to turn this into an argument, Philza. Let's just… agree to disagree." He simply looks over the horizon.

…

No.

The glitch freezes.

…No. Not here.

This isn't even anywhere important.

Phil noticed his sudden stop and walked to stand behind him to put a hand on his shoulder. "…Mate, are you alright—"

"Phil. Philza, I need you to keep your mouth shut." Ashswag never took his eyes off that puppet. Not even when that chilling aura of death took him by the shoulder, desperate to neutralize him—not really, he doubts Phil would do that to him on purpose, but the glitch part of him, the part of him that could see and feel the disturbance in the lines of code, really doubted that—took him by the shoulder.

(Shit, looking back, he really is uselessly focusing on something pathetic.)

"…" Phil looked around, confused, before he seemed to realize. "…Shit, are they here? Man, that's fucked. Fuck off, Federation!" He yelled into the distance. It… didn't exactly seem to work, but whatever, man. It shook Ash out of that hyperfocus a little—it made him want to laugh. Maybe a bit bitterly, maybe a little in bad faith, but laughter is still laughter, he supposes.

"…" Ash just shook his head. It wasn't worth it to pull out his weapons—well, he already pulled them out on instinct, just after Cucurucho's shadow appeared, but… You get what he means—and so he just started making his way towards where it was.

Was, because the moment he looked back, it was already gone.

What a cruel joke.

It disappeared… almost instantly.

(Or was it simply that he remained frozen for longer than he thought?)

No time to take a photo.

No time to do anything.

…The Federation was cruel; he already knew this when he discovered about the dead children and his own daughter, Son, died practically due to them. To torture him like this, it really did sound an awful lot like what the first island—Quesadilla Island, if he remembers correctly—was depicted as, by both the tapes and the islanders.

"…It's gone, Philza." Ash sighed as he got to the behind of the tree where he's pretty sure the Cucurucho was—it was gone too quick to take a photo, so he wasn't too sure. There was no paper, no smiley, no anything. "…Like always." And it would come back, wouldn't it?

…Tsk.

"…That's fucked. Is this what's been happening this whole time?" Philza, now right beside him—when did he move?—looks at him all concerned, and—and Ash can't stand it. "You've just been… spacing out while they surveil you?"

"…" Had he? "…Yes. Yes. And it keeps disappearing faster and faster… but I haven't—" The supreme leader just pauses, then shakes his head. "…Whatever. This isn't worth my time." And there wasn't even a paper, or a note, or anything this time. No clues, no taunts, no calling card.

…Was there one the first time, even?

He didn't exactly look around, then.

"…Mate…" Phil reached out again—who knows what he was gonna do, that old crow was a little unpredictable nowadays (or maybe, he himself is just getting less sharp)—but then he paused and shook his head as well. "…That's fucked."

"…I know, Philza Minecraft." The glitch stated in a tired tone. He was tired—and fuck it, who is Philza fucking Minecraft gonna tell, anyway? His wife? Yeah, sure. "You said that already. It's just my life, I guess." He covers his face with his hands for a minute, just… dragging them down it. The sensation of those glitches of his are helpful. He looks back at Philza. "And—"

But he pauses.

Because why the FUCK is there another one where they were standing mere moments ago.

Phil turns around, sword drawn.

Cucurucho disappears in an instant. Before Philza even finishes turning around. Ash blinks once and it's just gone.

"…What the actual f̴̌ͅụ̸̇c̵̰͑k̵̻̆.̴̻̽" Ash breathes out.

Two? Two. What. Why are there two? Fuck him, fuck everything—this shouldn't be happening.

The glitches on Ashswag get frantic—of course, he can't fucking hide anything. His fucking body language just has to give away his sheer panic at this situation—even though he's doing well to keep everything under control.

(Useless, he calls himself again.)

"…Did it show up again? Because there's a paper over there on the ground." Phil, who is, of course, paying more attention than he is right now—who the fuck could pay attention like this, really—points out the obvious. And, of course, Ash immediately gets himself back together—not really, because his glitches are still quite frantic, he is failing at doing that, but let him pretend—runs over to the paper, turning it over—because, obviously, the only thing at the front is still Cucurucho's fucking punchable face.

…Another number.

And a phrase, this time.

"DISFRUTA LA ISLA."

"…Fucking—I hope the Feds go fuck themselves. Fucking shit, I hate the Feds so much, I'm gonna kill those white motherfuckers—that fucking cumstain—" Ash mumbles under his breath; and he's too freaked out to be taken seriously, really. Breathing heavily, shaking and all. Maybe he really is seeing things. Maybe he really is going crazy. Maybe—just maybe—the Feds are winning.

…But he'd rather die than let them win.

"…Mate, it's just a smiley—"

Ash interrupts him by taking a deep breath; and they return to silence—not total silence, the frantic glitches and somewhat quickened breathing remains—for a brief moment before Ash speaks again. "…I'll—I'll see you around, Philza. Don't—don't tell anyone about this."

"…Ash, mate, you need to calm down, you're still—"

Ash doesn't properly hear him; everything is too warped. Too glitchy. Or maybe he just doesn't want to listen.

He takes out his warpstone and gets the hell out of there.

(Nowhere is safe. Not even thousands upon thousands of blocks away.)

(…This isn't letting them win.)

…Ever since last time, when two puppets showed up, he's been seeing more around, in terms of quantity.

He's gotten less panicked about it—panic isn't really his style, anyway—since it's become more normal.

Never meant that it made him feel less on edge, though. In fact, it only made him moreso. Waking up sweating in the middle of the night, always keeping a watch over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for anyone from the Federation that might take it upon themselves to… to do something to him. Kidnap him, whatever Phil said that one time they talked.

He's been avoiding the crow since that interaction, actually—even if he can't remember most of it. Though, he's been avoiding everyone lately. Philza, Ewron, Katie, hell, even Tubbo and Haiper—Just… People set him on edge; he can't tell if they're Federation spies—or, hell, maybe even clones, like what happened to the dutch.

…But even though he's been avoiding people, that hasn't stopped them from showing up.

In fact, it may have even increased their appearances.

There were a few letters—not every puppet dropped a paper with information anymore, even if they all did drop papers. Most were just that smiling face that Ash had already been hating for long before this whole situation. There were more messages, like last time, as well. Disfruta la isla, We are always listening, Enjoy the island… The Federation just—they couldn't leave him alone. And he hated it. Hated being watched, hated being spied on, hated it all.

…So god forbid he had to pick up something to—to calm himself.

As the Supreme Leader of The Regime, he couldn't just… go around the island, glitches severely frantic, all over him instead of just on his face—he couldn't let the island see him so weak. So pathetic. So… useless.

So god forbid. Even if he woke up weirdly low on health and hunger sometimes, even if he'd find himself in weird places after waking up, even if he'd wake up with weird book writings sometimes—he needed it.

Today was one of those days—one of those worse ones.

Ash had already woken up in the middle of the night—who knows when, but the sun wasn't coming up, and he knew it was dead late—because of mere noises outside the pantheon. He was just in his room, and he woke up from mere noises. Mere machinery noises, or—or whatever they were. Ash didn't really recall exactly. He ran to check up on Ghosty when he woke up, because she just… he doesn't want her hurt. He relocated her to her room in the pantheon during another day when he was going through it, because he just… couldn't live with the fact she was in a dirt bunker, in a place where she wasn't safe. Where the Federation had already shown up, had already taunted him… So he relocated her to the office.

She was fine, of course. A little mad at being woken up by him so frantically, even on accident, but… she could tell something was off—hell, she's been telling something was off. Checking up on him more often, leaving the office just to see him in his room, and… Ash was a terrible father for this. Really. Letting his daughter get all worried over him when he's meant to be the one worrying. Letting his daughter see him like this. After a few apologies and whispers, and a bit of hugging her—which Ash thinks she did just for his sake, but he refuses to think about that for his own peace of mind—Ghosty went back to bed, back to sleep.

Ash, himself, he… he just couldn't go back to sleep. He knew he'd just be paranoid the whole time. Knew he'd be stupid and pathetic and fucking useless. So he, instead of doing something that wouldn't work out, went on a… a little walk.

First to the North—Cucurucho didn't really seem to like that place, especially Juan, for some reason—maybe it had something to do with them being exes?—so he had started hanging around there more often. However, there was nobody to talk to—it seemed all the Spanish speakers were asleep or just not there when he walked around… not all that surprising, given it was the middle of the night and the sun hadn't even come up yet, and those that would be up would be out somewhere around the island, but still; he didn't quite like the eerie silence in the mansion usually full of laughter and arguments and… all of that.

It had him looking over his shoulder at imagined noises—mob footsteps, snoring sounds, his own footsteps once…

Just… too quiet.

So he soon went back to the Regime.

(In which, surprisingly, he hadn't spotted a puppet yet. But he was happy about that, because—at least for now—the Regime was safe, and that made him feel somewhat better.)

…He had gone away first simply because he didn't want to wake up his frie—…Underlings. But there wasn't exactly anywhere else to go; spawn was compromised, his pondering palace was compromised, everywhere you could go for a trip was compromised, and hell, even the polish cave was compromised—he wasn't really surprised about that last one, Multi was quite… suspicious, regarding the Feds, but…

…He's ranting in his own head, now. How pathetic.

Anyhow, he just didn't want to wake his friends up—Tubbo was still a hard worker, and Haiper… was already dealing with his own shit. Radiation sickness, growing weaker every day, less and less cheerful, less and less like himself… He just thought the both of them deserved rest, and not… getting woken up in the middle of the night.

(God knows Tubbo would probably go to work immediately regardless. Workaholic, that one.)

Fit was suspicious and hadn't been awake to be around The Regime lately anyway, he was more of a wandering spirit—sometimes you see him, sometimes you don't—and he wasn't here today. YD usually was awake early, too, but she… hadn't been there for a while; maybe busy with her own… beauty factory and stuff. Pac was probably a spy anyway. Katie barely came back from her vacation and was definitely a spy.

But no matter what was happening in The Regime…

…He always wandered into the pantheon at the end of the walk, anyway.

It was just… safe.

In a way he couldn't describe.

(In a way Ash knew wouldn't last long.)

But he came back anyway.

Perhaps it was because he loved seeing that his daughter was okay. That she wasn't dead like Son, that she wasn't—wasn't kidnapped, or something. He enjoyed seeing the office—a reminder of The Regime, of everyone… dear to him, as much as he loathed to admit it—with all its glory, roundtable with the chairs of Tubbo, of Haiper, of Katie, of Fit… The little playpen in the corner, where he let Ghosty play during Regime meetings… It was home.

(Was it? It felt like there was something missing.)

…

It was home.

The Regime was… family.

People he loved and trusted, even despite his slight suspicions.

…

(You don't deserve this luxury. You're not worthy of it.)

Fuck, he's so pathetically useless.

Ash turned around and teleported away.

He's not gonna go back to the pantheon until he's done… something productive. He'll just… check up on spawn. Maybe finally check in on the KFC; he hasn't seen it since Tubbo first started the renovation, and apparently it was blown up.

He teleports to spawn. He doesn't quite like this place, but…

. . .

But something.

Anyhow, still, nobody around. Eerily empty, as everything is in the morning. Liminal as hell.

The KFC was… well, it wasn't as spectacular as when Tubbo was working on it. Who was it again that was Katie's business partner… Mike? Well, that one turned it into a foodtruck… Not quite The Regime's style. Too… lively. But it wasn't bad, he supposes. Not that he would tell anyone that—since this did, sort of, ruin his plans of profiting off all the spawn businesses, but whatever. He didn't exactly… care right now.

The business was doing the same as KFC before the Regime intervention—no money, no business, no people, and no food.

It was pathetic, honestly—

"Ha ha ha."

…What the actual fuck was that.

…They don't usually make noises. Or speak.

"Ha ha ha."

Ash turns around, fists scrunched up as his sword remains ready as ever in his inventory.

Can they just leave him alone? He's too tired for this bullshit.

It's right there. On top of Žabka. Just looking—well. Not just looking; it fucking laughed at him. It laughed at him.

"…Shut the fuck up." Ash just mumbles as his glitches pick up slightly. Because it's too late for this shit. He's so tired, genuinely. "Shut up and leave me alone." He stared straight up at the puppet. Was it even one, this time?

…Maybe it wasn't. None of the puppets had ever spoken before.

Ash pulled out his crossbow dubbed gun and shot at it.

…

No, it truly was still just a puppet.

Ash sighed and began climbing up the side of Żabka. He knew there was most likely gonna be nothing when he climbed up, but…

…

Wow.

Just another fucking smile.

"Ha ha ha. Enjoy the island."

…Another speaking puppet…? Fucking Feds, leave him alone… Ash barely bothered to look around and look for it, but he did end up doing so. He needed to stay ahead of the enemy—regardless of how tired he was.

…It was just standing outside of the KFC now. Where he was standing when he spotted the one on the roof.

Ha. What a pain.

"…Leave me alone." He mumbled to himself as he held eye contact with the puppet. He knew as soon as he looked away that that thing would be gone—would disappear from view, would…

…Or apparently it would disappear while he was still looking at it. Sure. Makes sense, or… something.

…He wants out of here.

But if he's being taunted, then he can't teleport back to The Regime just yet.

He jumps down from the roof of Żabka—single tick of damage, just half a heart, unfortunately—takes the paper from where Cucurucho's puppet was standing, and goes to the nearest waystone.

He doesn't think about where he's going. Only that he wants out of spawn.

Subconsciously, he teleports to his Pondering Palace.

…When will you get it through your head that this place isn't safe anymore?

Stop coming here.

…He hadn't been here in a while.

Even if he's wanted to come.

The usual lavender fields were overgrown with weeds and vines (which, frankly, he had no idea how they even got there, it wasn't like this when he was last here), some trees in the distance fallen over, but the bench and the area within proximity of the waystone was… largely normal. It didn't look too bad, but that might be attributed to the fact it was dark and a normal person couldn't see well. Emphasis on normal, because Ash himself could see just fine—might have been his glitch side, might have just been him having good eyesight.

…He kind of missed the Pondering Palace. It was peaceful. More than he usually allowed himself. It used to be safe.

Now it's just…

"HA HA HA."

…

These fucking Feds.

Ash hissed at the sound, displeased and annoyed, and most importantly stressed, and just teleported out of there again.

…He'll visit later.

…

Where did he teleport? Well.

To the dutch cafe. Holland. Whatever you want to call it.

A safe haven. Ish. Nowhere was safe, not really—they were dealing with The Federation after all—but the café seemed to be a genuinely protected place.

Of course, it did look a little worrying for the supreme leader of The Regime to keep showing up here nearly every day, but he swore the Dutch to secrecy. And if anyone else saw him, that's on them.

Nobody really tried to stop him anyway.

They had no reason to.

(Nobody cared enough.)

So he walked into the café, quite unjolly, ready to get high as fuck.

Ding, sounds the bell into the cozy space.

"Welcome—oh, Ash!" Bartender Jeremy waved at him from, well, the bar. He seemed to be the only one here—seems the rest of the Dutch was fast asleep. "Hello! I didn't expect to see you visit this late at night, what do… you… need…?" He only seemed to get carefuller with his words seeing the... subpar, slightly pathetic state Ash was in.

Ash slowly walked over to the bar. He sat down on a stool, Jeremy watching him closely. He straight up collapsed onto the counter that was now cooling his face, sighing. "Just get me something, Jeremy."

The counter was kinda nice. It wasn't the kind of material that protested very much. Possibly since it's modded wood, it's used to glitching already… it's just nice wood.

"I can get you some water," Jeremy, playing ever the responsible barkeep, said, turning to get him a glass of water.

Ash didn't inherently protest. Not immediately, at least. He just… reminded the guy. "…You know what I mean, Jeremy. I need some to—to calm down." The glitch sighs, pushing himself back up to sit properly—he should keep some dignity, even though he's tired.

"Ash, you've been coming a lot lately." The bartender cuts him off, placing a glass of water next to him, but he turns again to get some of the drugs the Dutch carry, sighing. "At least it's ours and not Kelpamine. That stuff can get you hooked, I hear."

Just once more won't hurt.

Ash doesn't go for the glass of water—he'll drink that later—instead going straight for the suspicious pasta Dutch edition once Jeremy puts it on the table. He scarfs it down immediately, seemingly regretting it a little straight after, but then it kicks in.

"…Mmm." Ash giggles, laying back down on the counter. "…Thank you, Jeremy." He fees his muscles relax as he basically turns into a boneless blob. Mmm… Strange new edition… he likes it.

"…You're, ah, welcome." Jeremy sighs, sounding a little concerned. His brows are probably furrowed every so slightly as he thins his lips, like the other times he's worried. Heh, what a loser.

The clatter of the plate rings loudly to Ash's ears—Jeremy is picking it up and, and washing it, then.

"…Hey, Ash, what are you doing up so late?" Why is his dealer asking so many questions?

"Oh, you know." He giggles again. It's got him all giggly. But he tries—and fails—to push himself back up to a sitting position 'cause he wants to protect some of his dignity. He's a supreme leader. "Just… being chased by…" what was that fuckers name again? "…by the white cumstain. Puppets? It sucks. I'd like them to fight me instead."

Shit, something in this batch is particularly strong. Jeremy must've seen how exhausted he looked and given him a strong one, thank the lord.

Would he have admitted that normally? Probably not.

"You're being chased?" Jeremy shifts—tenser? It sounds like he's shaking, or something. Ash moves his head a little, because while he can't seem to sit up, at least he can move his head to see better, and sees Jeremy just… looking around. Is he paranoid too? "By Cucurucho? Why?"

"…Hah," Ash chuckles, a bitter (loopy) smile forming on his face. "Who knows why. Just know they don't like me. Probably since I don't like them." He looks over at the cabinet behind Jeremy.

Jeremy gets the message.

"…Right. I'll get you some more then…" Even though he seemed concerned, he still got more drug-infused or whatever pasta. Has to be doing this for the love of the game, hah… Ash honestly thinks it's admirable.

Anyhow, the bartender and drug dealer passes some more pasta and Ash, this time a bit more slowly, eats it, taking it slow to admire the feeling a bit more.

This one makes him feel warm.

Hm.

He didn't know he felt cold before?

Oh well.

He collapses straight back onto the counter afterwards, giggling.

Jeremy seems to just move to clean the bowl—Ash can hear the water run, the… the… cloth? the name escapes him right now—Ash can hear a cloth scratching the surface of the bowl, and…

It kind of just makes him giggle again, because it's quite a strange sound.

Almost sounds like someone laughing.

"You really need to get home soon, big guy." Jeremy eyes the supreme leader, again sounding concerned. "Maybe I should call Tubbo or Haiper…" he mumbles to himself.

At the mention of those two, Ash's mood sours. It almost makes the whole room feel cold, like it wants you to get out. Static-y. "There's… you don't have to. I'll just make it… make it home. Once I'm done with the… with being here." He mumbles into the table, not willing to look again. It's all a bit glitchy now anyway. "Tubbo and Haiper don't need to be woken up for this… nonsense."

He doesn't really want those two knowing about this.

"Ha ha ha."

Ash tenses.

…Good to know those white pieces of shit followed him.

"…Right. And you're gonna make it home while you're collapsed on the counter right now?" Jeremy seems unimpressedly concerned. "By yourself?"

"Yes."

"…" Jeremy sighs. Something next to Ash's head gets slid towards him—it's probably the water Jeremy poured him earlier?—by Jeremy, stopping once it's closer, and then… "Up we go." The bartend pulls Ash up and then pushes the glass into his hands. "Drink up!"

Hm.

Cheerful.

Ash doesn't really like this right now.

He looks at Jeremy, holding him up. Then at the glass. Then back at Jeremy.

Jeremy starts glaring.

It's probably annoying to deal with such a pathetic version of the usually competent Supreme Leader.

Ash decides taking a sip of water is worth it.

Jeremy smiles. What a weird bartender. Anyway, he lets go and Ash sloops back onto the counter slowly now that Jeremy isn't holding him up anymore and—and yeah, maybe he did overdo it this time. Maybe the mix of exhaustion and drugs wasn't the best idea. He feels really tired, honestly.

Taking a nap here would be really, really rude, though.

…

What is he even thinking? Ha. Dictators don't take naps. That's pathetic.

"Hey now, this isn't an overnight coffee shop. I was gonna close before you came in." Jeremy seems to be washing the dishes again, or something. A buzz sounds out, or maybe Ash is just imagining it. A bit of shuffling.

…Oh, wait, is that his communicator?

Ash whines (not that he'd ever admit that), pushing himself up and opening his eyes—not quite sure when he closed them—head hurting from the terribly white light of the usually cozy cafe.

He really doesn't want to check.

It hurts.

Jeremy's looking at him with concern, but he really, really doesn't want to think about that right now, honestly.

He reaches for his communicator.

Jeremy stops him.

…Okay?

Ash blinks at him, confuddled.

"The light is hurting you, big guy." The bartender shakes his head. "Just relax and enjoy the effects before someone picks you up."

"…Picks me… up?" Ash, embarrassingly, slurs his words. Oh, fuck, he really did overdo it. Blinking up at Jeremy—oh, he slid back down onto the counter, huh—in a confused and dazed state. He is quite relaxed for once, though.

Realistically, he knows he shouldn't be relaxed at all. Not in this prison of an island. But he is. It's useless of him. Useless, pathetic, downright cowardly… Maybe this is why Son died. Why he wasn't able to let her grow up. Why he killed her. Why he—

Ding! rings out the bell of the Cafe.

"Jeremy!" A voice exclaims. A very, very, very familiar voice, walking closer from the door.. "Dude, I'm so sorry about this big guy. You know, the Supreme Leader's just kinda going through some shit right now, as one does." He's picked up by the person wielding such a voice.

"Yeah, well, he should probably not do drugs late at night next time. I think your big boss might be falling asleep, man…" Jeremy chuckles, but there's still that inkling of concern in his voice.

And really, Ash is fine, so he should correct this misconception about himself, but… He's tired. He'll do it next time he sees Jeremy.

Instead, he focuses on the person carrying him.

"…Tubbo?" He grumbles out. His eyes stay closed, relaxing further into the man's arms—who knew this kid could carry him. It's not that surprising, considering surely working with the machines Tubbo works with is some sort of workout for the arms, but…

"Right here, boss man. We really need to talk about your problems one day, but not today. Cause you interrupted my sleep." Tubbo sighed. Then, seemingly, turned to Jeremy. "Sorry 'bout it, won't happen again. I think. See you around, Jeremy!"

"See you, Tubbo! Make sure to stop by to buy some of our goods!" Jeremy yelled at them, slowly getting quieter—Tubbo was carrying him away.

Well.

This is embarrassing. To be carried out by his underling.

Not that his limbs are listening. Which might be more embarrassing, really.

"Alright, gotta set you down to search for the waystone and shit, hopefully this doesn't suck like poo from a bum," Tubbo put him on the floor—the floor!—but Ash kind of forgave him because his British accent made him giggle. It's just a bit funny to hear your friend being all serious while sounding like that. Especially when saying something like "poo from a bum".

"…Heh." He giggled just thinking about it. Then he frowned. Lock in.

"…III'm gonna choose to ignore that. Oh—found the waystone! Up we go, Swagster," He's picked up again before they—

—they teleport.

Ash falls to his knees on the other side immediately, feeling an impending sense of doom in his stomach as his limbs refuse to move. Tubbo is at his side the moment it happens, obviously concerned.

Fuck, that is not how teleportation should feel. "…Oh—Oh fuck," He coughed out, wincing. He must look really pathetic to his family right now. He can feel something coming out of his mouth; probably spit. Maybe blood, if he thinks about it.

There's a hand on him. He doesn't like it. It feels wrong.

"Oh, fuck." The voice behind him exclaims. "Okay, big guy, let's calm down. I'll getcha some gapples instead…" Tubbo—and man, he's such a lifesaver, really, even if Ash doesn't quite need gapples—takes the hand patting his back away, instead seeming to reach for a golden apple, before passing it over to him. Ash immediately scarfs them down.

They make him feel a minuscule amount better, he supposes.

A little less disoriented and rejuvenated, at least; he doesn't feel like he'll pass out the moment he hits a comfortable surface anymore.

Taking a moment to breathe to gather his thoughts, he shifts—and then groans at the movement, because fuck that should not make him feel dizzy, but whatever—before falling to the floor and curling up.

Fuck, it hurts.

Why does it hurt?

The gapple should've made it better, not worse.

"Easy! Easy there." Tubbo, the biggest idgafer in the Regime, just… stands next to him, looking unsure of what to do. He doesn't seem too bothered past trivial concern, like he should.

He's making problems for his family. Useless as ever.

"…Just—just give me a…" Ash grits out, talking through gritted teeth, "give me a minute, Tubbo."

Everything felt so—weird. Why did teleporting just—just absolutely fuck up his entire world?

Fuck, why is everything so—so weird?

Everything hurts.

"…Whatever you say, Supreme Leader!"

That was the last thing Ash heard before he passed out—not knowing why or how.

"Remember: you are useless."