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Parrot used to have dreamless sleep. He used to have wild and crazy dreams that led him to golden fields full of swaying sunflowers. He used to be a better person.
He envies that better person. Now, when he sleeps, his dreams are haunted by obsidian walls and exploding TNT and the dead, ghostly face of his dearest friend. It’s all yours, he hears himself echo, and Wifies looks at him with unreadable purple eyes, and then in the blink of an eye he’s on top of beautiful, horrifying Paragon.
In the space between breaths, an explosion wracks the birthplace of Paragon. And then two messages show up in his communicator, and Parrot is curled up in on himself like a dying animal, sobbing his heart out.
He wakes with a pounding heart. Every time he blinks, he can see the outlines of Paragon, of Wifies’ broken, splayed-out, dead body carved into the darkness of his eyelids like scars. Red on black.