Archive of Our Own

Nufuli is in the middle of pulling out a fresh chestplate from Doopter's shulker when he feels a quiet ping vibrate in his pocket.

Absentmindedly, he hopes it's Loonac. That's what his mind immediately jumps to, which is very stupid, because he knows it isn't. He knows it's Slushly, his dead weight who Nufuli considers nothing short from an absolute fool.

His unfortunate ally in all of this Vanguard, key-collecting nonsense that will be the death of one of them. And by one of them, again, he means Slushly. He's too righteous to be involved in any of this crap to begin with, and honestly, Nufuli pities him and his heroic mindset.

He's naive, and that'll probably be the cause of his death as a result.

Refocusing his attention, his eyes scan the messages, and immediately— he has to blink twice and rub his eyes to make sure his vision isn't playing tricks on him. The messages are oddly unlike Slushly, barely eligible with not a single ounce of punctuation whatsoever.

< Slushly_ whispers to you > mug  m [2]< Slushly_ whispers to you > nee d help pl a ese

Mugm. This dunderhead took a full on fight against Mugm, vanguard number two, who even alone— almost beat Nufuli even when he had his mythic book. Fuck.

Another message comes flooding in, followed by another. Frantic, rushed, and desperate. Five more pings, and then— it ceases. The buzzing dies down and all Nufuli can do is stare wide-eyed at the messages on the screen.

< Slushly_ whispers to you > ims rorry  

< Slushly_ whispers to you > itwas s tipid

< Slushly_ whispers to you > please [2]

< Slushly_ whispers to you > -127 102 29

< Slushly_ whispers to you > nufulip lease

Nufuli doesn't realize it, but as he's reading these messages, his hands start to shake. Violently. Slushly, defenceless against Mugm. It sounds a bit too familiar.

Mugm has stolen from him before. Multiple times, too. He's stolen his pride, his sense of security, but worst of all— his own teammate, HD, right before his eyes. Slaughtered by the hands of Mugm, all while she was too powerless and too clueless to defend herself, or even see it coming.

His hands grip the communicator hard, with so much force he fears it might snap in half. He inhales sharply, and when he closes his eyes, he sees HD, deep mauve hair blowing through the wind with that soft smile that had always been so horribly infectious that it hurts to even think about. Anger sparks in his chest, and the memory replays itself again, tainting his mind.

He feels sick. Slushly is out there, all by himself, getting his ass beat by Mugm. So what if the other is better in terms of PVP than HD was? He can't take a fight against Mugm at all. If even Nufuli couldn't do it, how could he?

As he exhales, he decides that he's made up his mind. Even though Slushly is practically a shackle on his leg, he refuses to let him die. He refuses to let this be HD all over again. No, he won't let himself cry over someone, not if they haven't even died yet.

It's funny, because in hindsight— this is Slushly's exact mindset. Saving innocent strangers who he barely even knows because he'd rather be a hero that a murderer. Still, it's dumb to Nufuli. This is a onetime decision, then never again. He's learned the hard way that it's better to fight to live rather than trying to be a hero.

Nufuli slips his elytra on, wasting no time on making his way over to the coordinates given. Even as he flies, he still can't get the image of HD out of his mind. Even after he had been beyond cruel towards her, she forgave him. She had poured her whole heart and soul into improving, even after everything. She was kind, caring, and wanted the best for everyone. Then, in return—

She died. Right in front of Nufuli, her blood splattering onto the clean, chiseled quartz and textured prismarine. Her body became lifeless in an instant, and as Mugm's feet hit the floor, so did her body. With one foul sweep, she died. That was all it took.

The world didn't know HD like he knew her. No one will ever get to know her. All she'll ever be is a past-tense, a distant memory that is mourned periodically. All she'll ever be is a, 'Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss.' and never a, 'What kind of person was she?' because everyone who is killed by Vanguard just becomes a number eventually. 

Since then, Nufuli thinks he's lost something in himself. Maybe it was Loonac leaving, or perhaps it was Slushly reminding him of how utterly selfish he's being. Whatever it was that made him realize this, he really doesn't care, nor does he want to know. All that Nufuli does know, however— is that he feels numb.

Words don't carry any weight to them anymore. No amount of psychological nonsense will change his stained view of this wretched world, and all it will ever be is a disease to him. He doesn't want to care about people. He'd rather push everyone away if it meant that they'd get the memo.

At some point, Nufuli thinks he just stopped caring. About the thought of dying, about being reckless, about what other people wanted, and about the lengths he'd go to get what he wanted. So maybe that makes him a villian— by definition, he probably is. But still, he digresses. He isn't trying to be cruel when he says that he doesn't care about people.

Nufuli doesn't care because he doesn't want to. Not in the way where he's ignorant, but in the way that he fears the consequences of if he does. If he lets his kidneys (???? i wrote kindness) get the better of him, he'll be exploited because that's what happens to anyone who tries to be kind. If he kills, it's no different. He will be labelled a heartless murderer who has no regards for humanity.

Either way, he will become be a villian in someone's eyes. So, he'd rather not let his pathetic feelings get the best of him. If saving Slushly means not repeating what happened to HD, so be it. He won't let this hurt.

Slushly gasps, a wet cough ripping from his throat as blood splatters onto the dried blades of grass. Behind him, he hears another potion shatter against the ground.

He tries to stand up, but his knees are trembling and his vision is swaying. Colours dance in his vision like a blurry disco ball, which definitely isn't a good sign. Slushly reaches for a golden apple, and manages to swallow down half of one before the sword comes swinging back at him again.

Distantly, he hears Mugm laugh. It's completely mocking, and the words that leave the voidlings mouth next make his cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"You seriously thought you could beat me, but you can't even beat my student?"

"I—" He tries, but blocking the rapid slashes aimed directly at him prove to be much harder than anticipated. He's already worn down, half-dead, ready to quit, but this isn't a game.

He doesn't just get to tap out because he's tired, does he? This is a real fight, and Slushly has to prove himself. Otherwise, he's nothing more than just another nobody. A failure. Good for nothing, expendable.

"You can't even talk?" Mugm gawks, amusement evident in his voice as he continues watching. "No wonder Nufuli can't stand you."

Oh. Those words feel like a dagger straight through his heart. They burn and sting even more than the bloody wounds across his chest, opening as the fight continues. They implant themselves into his mind like a tumour, repeating over and over because Mugm just knows how to perfectly torment him.

He hates how right Mugm is. He knows that Nufuli barely even wants him around, and yet— he doesn't stop following. He's like a sad, kicked little puppy, just that he's still waiting to be kicked. Which, maybe he can consider Aspen's betrayal a harsh kick, but he'd rather not dwell on that. 

Even the mere thought of Aspen pains him. Vanguard has taken everything from him, and he feels completely and utterly helpless against them. Division is now in Stormz's possession, Aspen is working under Vanguard, and in the early game versions with Wyll— he couldn't even save Bendell, Mari, or anyone else trapped in the older versions.

To say he feels powerless is an understatement. He feels like a complete sitting duck. Slushly can't even call himself a hero, because even after everything— he isn't one. He can't save anyone, and he can't prove himself either.

Trying to prove himself to Nufuli was dumb. Why would he ever try to take a fight against Vanguard number fucking two? That's practically a death sentence. How could he be so stupid?

Another laugh. Parry, block, stumble back, press his arm against his stomach to stop the rush of blood that spills from his dented armour. A crit, a cobweb, then another crit.

He already knows he's not a hero, he's heard that a million times before from other people, more times can count. It's all the same, always him in the wrong about his morality, him being the fool, him having a death sentence.

Yet, despite all of this, he can never seem to stop. No matter how much he tries to tell himself that kindness is never the route, he manages to drift back to that same mindset every single time. Even if he kills, even if he griefs, sabotages— his mind will always try to defend it.

He'll tell himself it's for the better. He'll tell himself that it was bound to happen anyway, and that— because it was him, he's a hero for it. It's almost laughable how hard he tries to fool himself into believing that he's a hero.

Slushly attempts to turn the tides, knocking the fighter away to break their combo. His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lunges at them. Every snort and laugh that echoes from Mugm makes him everything so much more infuriating. He knows by now that this is a losing battle, but he can't bring himself to withdraw.

It's utterly humiliating, the way his knees buckle and he barely manages catches himself before he crumbles. His whole body is pleading for him to step, but he can't. He can't stop now, not when he's already tried so hard to be worth something.

With all the energy he has left, he lifts himself back to his feet, gritting through his teeth as his legs ache in protest. Blurry dots crowd his vision as he manages a futile swing, that somehow— collides with their chestplate.

Fuelled by nothing but adrenaline and the want to be worthy, he continues swinging. The crits are messy and his aim is atrocious, but Slushly keeps going regardless.

"You are so pathetic, Slushly. It's funny." Mugm says, voice flat and aiming to wound.

He tries his best to ignore the voidling and places another cobweb, landing crit after crit until it finally feels like he's winning. He watches as the other player fumbles for their water, trying to dissolve the cobweb while attempting to hold Slushly back at the same time.

"Please," He thinks to himself, "Let this be enough. Let me be worth something, just for once. So that I'm enough for Nufuli, so that I'm enough for Aspen, so that I'm enough for Wyll. So that I'm not just a failure."

The words in his mind escape as a quiet confession before he can stop them, "I can't keep doing this."

Mugm, with his hearing so sharp that it could rival a war veteran, catches his words immediately. "What did you just say?" He questions, his head snapping up in newfound interest.

"I didn't say anything," He seethes, barely dodging a crit as the Mugm's student finally gets back on their feet, iron sword in their offhand as they find their footing again.

"Nah, nah, you did. Come on, what did you just say?" His voice carries that tone where Slushly just knows that Mugm has a shit-eating grin on his face right now.

"I—" He hesitates, narrowly dodging and parrying another few swings. The words are ready to leave his lips, but he doesn't dare say them. Slushly isn't weak. He refuses to believe that.

"Come on, Slushly. Repeat it for the class." Mugm says in mockery.

His cheeks flame. No, Slushly won't repeat it. He's not a quitter. This isn't where he taps out, he won't just walk away with a loss— That's not him.

Mugm's student comes lunging again, sparks flying as netherite collides against netherite. Slushly blocks their hit, only for them to counter with a swing that lands him in a cobweb. He reacts quickly in return, dissolving the web before turning offensive.

It's hopeless. He knows it is, but still— he won't give up. He can't. Who cares if Mugm's star student has an iron sword that gives them resistance? He's defeated players with mythic items before. If he just pushes himself harder, tries a little bit more—

A muffled cry escapes his lips as he's sent tumbling across the floor, reeds scraping against his armour. Blood is spilling onto faded green rapidly, and he knows for a fact that this is his blood and his blood only.

The other player comes chasing after him like a wild animal, desperate for another hit. Slushly barely reacts in time, his shield raising just in time so that the sharpened sword only manages to scrape against the top of his shoulder before it collides against the enforced wood.

"Fuck—" He curses to himself quietly, putting himself into a cobweb to down a golden apple. Even as he's doing it, he knows his efforts are in vain. The absorption and regeneration isn't enough to keep up with the onslaught of crits and swings being landed on him.

His hands are becoming too shaky to even swing properly, or dissolve the web he's encased himself in. With every passing second, and every slash against his armour, he grows more and more scared.

Not scared of death, per-say, but rather, disappointment. What would all his friends think? All the people he's trying to prove himself too?

Nufuli would probably laugh, call him stupid, and fly away in an instant. He's done it before, so he would do it again in a heartbeat. Wyll is... complicated, but Slushly doubts that he'd care enough to stay. He's a busy man, after all.

And... Aspen. Everything hurts just a little bit more at the thought of Aspen. Maybe she's happier without him right now. It's a foolish thought, since he believes that anyone and everyone in Vanguard cannot possibly be described with the word happy, but it's still a possibility.

Mugm's voice slices clean through his thoughts, "Is this you giving up?"

He flinches, and looks back up. Mugm's student has stopped critting him out, stood still as Slushly realizes that his adrenaline has in fact worn off, and that he's still trapped in cobwebs.

His eyes meet the voidlings, gaze lingering on the glowing white scar prominent across his opposing eye. Slushly has to process Mugm's words for a brief moment before it finally clicks that, oh! Mugm is asking him a question!

Nervously, he laughs. It's fragile and rather muted, because his throat already aches and his chest is heaving, a constant reminder of how weak he really is. He's so tired and absolutely done with everything. "No, I— Not yet." Slushly decides on, but his words hold absolutely no confidence in them at all.

Mugm scoffs at his response, "Not yet? You're coughing out blood and lying on the dirt, and you call that 'not yet' ?"

"It's better than nothing." He argues bitterly.

"I'd rather nothing, actually. At least then, you'd actually show me you're capable of knowing when you've had enough."

Slushly glares daggers, "I know when I've had enough."

The other lets out a low hum of disagreement, "Really, Slushly? You wanna talk about knowing your limits when you're still trying to play hero, even now?"

"I know I'm not a hero, Mugm. I've killed people before. I've made bad decisions. I'm not pretending to be something I'm not."

"God, you are a horrid liar." Mugm says, almost sounding disappointed. "Slushly, we both know that you're still playing hero. You never stop to think about yourself. Only the people around you."

Slushly laughs shakily, "Don't give me life advice, Mugm. You're worse than me. I know what I'm doing, I'm not—"

"Not playing hero, yeah. Sure. Slushly, all I'm saying is that— eventually, that mindset is gonna get you killed one day. You can't save everyone, and all it takes is one wrong move for you to die saving someone else."

It takes him a moment to realize that Mugm is fully serious. The voidling literally has more flawed morals than him and he's talking about how he's concerned for Slushly?

"Mugm, I know this already. You think I haven't heard this before? Yeah, maybe it is stupid. I can't quit it even if I try, I know. But at least it counts for something, okay? I'm doing something good, rather than whatever Vanguard does." He bites back.

"Well, you could still join Vanguard, even with an attitude like that. You just aren't seeing the full picture and how much potential you actually have. You're just holding yourself back, Slushly."

The words are somehow more enticing that he expects. For a brief moment, he almost considers it, the idea of being one of the elites. However, he isn't that much of a fool. He's not giving in that easily.

Slushly hates himself for almost considering the ludicrous offer. Under no circumstances will he be joining Vanguard. Vanguard is the reason why he lost Aspen, and he knows for a fact that Aspen isn't safe whatsoever as long as she's still trapped in that wretched city.

With a low exhale, he shakes his head, not thinking about the repercussions. "I'm not joining Vanguard." Slushly replies as firmly as he can manage.

"Figured." Mugm frowns with mild dissatisfaction, "Whatever, that's fine."

What was Mugm expecting him to say? In what world would he ever say yes to joining when they literally put him in a death game and kidnapped his teammate?

Slushly's eyes track Mugm's movement warily, watching as the voidling turns his attention towards his student with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Alright, go on. Kill him."

His body freezes. Refusal melts into fear as his mind rewinds Mugm's words, making sure he's not just going insane. Kill him?

Slushly's head snaps toward the other player instinctively, a pleading look flashing in his eyes.

His student, surprisingly— hesitates, nodding towards Slushly to make sure they heard Mugm right. The other nods back, not even giving Slushly a second glance. "Kill him," Mugm repeats, "I don't care. He's worth nothing."

"What?" Slushly questions dumbly.

"I'm doing you a favour, Slushly." He answers flatly, "Someone's going to take advantage of you otherwise."

"Wh— so you think killing me is better? I- I give up, okay? You're right. This is dumb, and— and I shouldn't have tried. You win." His voice rises rapidly in panic, his fear only growing as he realizes that it's practically impossible to read Mugm's expression. "Don't kill me. Please."

He still has so much to achieve. Well, he thinks so, at least. Slushly also knows that if he dies, this time— he's probably, most definitely, not going to be able to come back like his last revival.

The other replies with a shallow snort, "That's not going to save you, Slushly. You had your moment to run."

"So you're just going to kill me? Just like that?" Slushly asks, voice cracking. This is how he's going to die? Without saving Aspen, without infiltrating Vanguard, without Nufuli?

He blinks slowly, registering the name he's just echoed in his mind.

His heart sinks at the sudden, passing thought that, wow, Nufuli hasn't actually shown up yet. He's probably laughing at Slushly right now for how reckless he was to challenge Mugm.

His desperation is pathetic. Even now, he's begging for a life he isn't even sure he wants.

Mugm tilts his head quizzically, tapping his chin as if he doesn't already have an answer in mind. "How about I let my trainee decide?" He says eventually, glancing back towards the invisible player still stood beside Slushly.

The student takes a cautious step towards Slushly, their two swords still in hand. If they weren't invisible, he would hope that the look on their face right now was empathetic.

"Blade against his neck." Mugm commands in the distance, and they oblige. Of course, even with the sword, they must be in no place to challenge him.

Slushly's next exhale through his nose is much more panicked as the netherite prickles his neck. There's enough pressure being put on the blade that if they just pushed a little harder, it'd surely be enough to draw blood.

Mugm follows with a pleased hum, "Good. The decision is yours."

And just like that, his fate is sealed.

Technically, his death is not guaranteed just yet, since still— Mugm is not exactly a monster. Even though he's apart of Vanguard, and is one of their elite, that doesn't mean he doesn't carry at least some sort of morality.

At least, that's what he's made out of Nufuli's ranting about Mugm. It's always a little hard to tell with him, but Slushly will let himself hope. Maybe, just maybe, if he has enough hope— he'll come out of this alive.

That is, if he doesn't succumb to his injuries before Mugm's student even has a chance to kill him. He's still bleeding everywhere, blood slowly soaking into the fabric of his clothes uncomfortably.

Slushly stays quiet, pressing a hand against his wounds while he observes the player who, quite literally— has his life in their hands.

The invisible player lifts their head towards Mugm, shifting their weight between their two feet. They say nothing, but the voidling still seems to get the memo.

"I'm not deciding for you."

Their hand grips the blade tighter. A quiet noise of distress escapes Slushly as he feels them push the blade harder against his neck. A rush of adrenaline sparks in his body as he registers the cold material digging further into his skin, and useless pleas follow immediately. "Stop, stop, stop- Mugm, please–!"

Mugm's cold, monotone voice cuts through his desperate begging, "One minute, then I'll kill him myself. Make up your mind."

"No," Slushly whispers in terror, "Mugm, please, don't—"

"One minute starts now."

Nufuli's heartbeat is pounding out of his ears as he's spamming rockets to Slushly's coords. He knows that the other doesn't have much longer if he's with Mugm, so he needs to hurry.

In all honesty, he doesn't want Slushly to die.

They both know that Slushly is an absolute fool who can't stop throwing himself into danger, but there's something fragile inside Nufuli that still feels the need to protect him.

Perhaps it stemmed from the very first moment he hurt Slushly, when he flew away and made him fight Wyll all alone. Frankly, Nufuli can't pinpoint what it was,  and he probably never will figure it out either, because he's never been the best with managing his emotions.

Still, though— Nufuli feels compelled to protect Slushly beyond just preventing another HD situation. If anything, he deserves to be hurt instead of Slushly. He'd take all the blows if he could.

Slushly, though he's a fool for believing that there's even an ounce of good faith in anyone, doesn't deserve all the pain Nufuli, or anyone has inflicted on him. When he left him, yelled at him, hurt him— every time, Slushly came running back.

No matter how much he tried to push the other away, no matter how many times he made it as clear as day that staying with him was something he clearly didn't want, Slushly never backed down.

Somehow, someway— Slushly still stayed. Out of everyone, out of Loonac, out of Galaxy, out of all his friends— it was him who decided that Nufuli was worth sticking around for.

His heart stutters suddenly, completely snapping him out his train of thought.

Under a small grove of tall acacia trees, he spots it; a piled heap of bloody red, mangled and broken. In another other scenario, he'd probably pay no mind and fly right past, but that's when he sees it.

Soft, weakened electricity sparks barely noticeable through the canopy of leaves. That's a Slushly thing. That's where he is, that's—

Oh, that's bad. Nufuli's effort increase tenfold as he wastes no time in diving down. As he descends, he can see Mugm standing idly, along with an invisible player across from him, next to Slushly.

"Mugm," He plants himself between the wounded player and Mugm, despite there already being an established distance between the two. "Leave him alone."

The voidling tilts his head curiously, an amused hum leaving his lips. "Look who it is. You're a little late, you know."

Nufuli scowls, but doesn't reply. He turns his head towards Slushly instead, deducting that, despite all the blood pooling around him like spilt ink, he's still alive.

Though it's still a reassuring thought that the other is breathing, it still doesn't feel like enough. Slushly's body already looks like a corpse, lifeless with all its wounds and bruises. He'll die soon if Nufuli doesn't act quickly. They're not out of this yet, not while Mugm is still here, looming over them.

Not with the threat of losing someone else still lingering.

He glances back towards Mugm, eyes narrow slits. "What do you want?" Nufuli demands, voice low.

"Want?" The voidling echoes, "I don't want anything. I was just testing my student over there. They have the choice to kill Slushly, not me."

Nufuli keeps his eyes locked on Mugm, not daring to turn back towards the invisible player. "What'd they pick?" He questions carefully.

Mugm shrugs helpfully in response, "I don't know. Come on, tell Nufuli what you picked. You're the one with the sword." He says to his student.

Nufuli glares daggers into the voidling. Mugm, unsurprisingly, doesn't care one bit, simply motioning for him to turn towards Slushly.

"I swear to god, Mugm.." He mutters, turning his back on the other. Just seeing Slushly's wreck of a body, sword pressed against his throat is enough to make him chest tighten.

A broken whimper slips from Slushly as Mugm's student readjusts their grip, holding Slushly up with one arm while the other keeps the sharpened blade pointed at his skin.

Nufuli's breath hitches. He hates this. He hates waiting for the inevitable moment where blood will ultimately splatter across the dry grass, painting everything in a dark red, including his mind.

He can't run. He can't cower. He can't close his eyes. All he can do is stand there uselessly, knowing that any sudden movement will just cause the death of Slushly otherwise, and that he was too late to stop this. 

"Please," Nufuli whispers before he can realize what he's saying, "He hasn't done anything. Let him go."

The invisible players head flicks up to meet his eyes for a moment before they look back down at Slushly, clearly seeming troubled.

A beat. Once, twice, and suddenly his heartbeat is louder than the counting of seconds in his head.

One, two, three. Slushly is deathly pale, breathing shallow, yet deeply panicked with every shaking exhale that he has. He can't even hold himself up anymore, completely relying on the support of the student.

This is all Nufuli's fault. He got Slushly into this mess. He should've gotten the keys himself, should've gotten here sooner, should've done something. So what if he isn't sure what could've been done? All Nufuli knows is that he deserves this more than Slushly ever will.

One, two, three. His heartbeat accelerates as tense, agonizing silence hangs in the air. Nufuli wants to yell and scream and cry about how unfair all of this is. Why, why Slushly? Why HD? Why do all these good people need to die all because of him?

So, maybe it's only his fault in association. He doesn't care if that's the case. Even so, they're dying because of him.

It was his job to keep them out danger, keep them safe— and all he's done is fail, again and again. It eats away at him because clearly, instead of keeping people safe, all he's managed to do is push them away instead.

Is this really the closed-off, defensive life he wants to live? If he wants freedom for others, why won't he grant it for himself?

Is it selfish for him to say that maybe, just maybe— it was never even about wanting to protect other people? Nufuli has never been one to rightfully question his morality, but the more he thinks, the more selfish he realizes that he sounds.

Suddenly, Mugm is counting downwards from ten. He freezes, eyes widening as he mentally prepares to lunge forwards in advanced anticipation of what will follow after the countdown ends.

Mugm's eyes track him faster. "Don't try anything, Nufuli. I'll kill him myself if you interfere. This isn't about you."

He swallows. His heart is hammering out of his chest. Please, he begs silently, Don't take Slushly too. I don't want to do this again.

"Eight, seven, six.."

All he can do is tilt his head towards the invisible student, who from the looks of it, is just as lost as he is. As they lock eyes again, another pathetic plea tears from his throat.

"Please don't do this." He says, his voice wobbling. Nufuli doesn't even care that Mugm is watching him beg and break at the mere thought of killing his ally. He doesn't care that this is something to be exploited, a wound that salt can be rubbed into—

All he cares for is Slushly's safety.

"Five, four, three..."

A bitter, acidic taste sweeps over Nufuli's tongue as the trembling hand holding the blade against Slushly's throat readjusts again. "He— he still has stuff to live for. Don't... don't do this, please." He croaks.

The invisible player turn their gaze away from him. He feels his heart sink deeper.

"Two.. one.."

Just as the countdown is about to reach its end, Nufuli catches it. In the corner of his eye, a faint twitch of lighting curling up Slushly's arm.

It travels up from his wrist, to his shoulder, crawling up his neck, then dissolving at the edge of his jaw. His breath hitches, and— Slushly is smiling.

Despite how undeserving he is of a death like this, despite his fate practically being sealed— he is smiling. Even as he is still dripping fresh blood that bloom like clusters of spilled ink, he is fucking smiling like this is some happy moment he's going to cherish forever. 

It's weak, a little forced at the edges, obviously— but it's enough to almost have Nufuli tearing up.

Mugm's voice rings out distantly, speaking nothing but two words that'll be enough to shake Nufuli's world.

"Your choice."

Slushly's smile slowly fades, turning back into those quiet, pained whimpers as shuddering gasps as he nears death. Yet, even with his smile fading, Nufuli still comprehends what he was trying to convey with that subtle action.

Yes, he can almost hear it now, Slushly's voice echoing in his mind. A perfect replica.

"Despite everything, I think I can say that I'm satisfied enough with what I've done. Nobody can ever be perfect, but I'd like to appreciate all the little things that have happened."

"There is nothing greater than love, greater than friendship, or greater than joy. So, with my second life, I'm glad that I was able to experience all three of those. While it does suck that this is where everything will end, I want to thank you."

"Thank you for trusting me, for giving me the pleasure of fighting along side you and  for being able to call you my friend— I'm grateful."

"Don't forget about me. Remember my annoyingly straightforward morals, and please tell Aspen how sorry I am that I couldn't make it to her. I'm scared of what will come next, but— as long as I was able to help someone in this life I was given, I think I'm able to die happy."

Nufuli can't do this again. There's this miserable, sickening feeling settling in his stomach realizing that he's about to watch another person he cares about die right in front of his eyes.

He was trying to keep Slushly safe. He was trying to keep him safe, and this is how things turned out. He is about to experience the worst possible outcome of his life, and it is all about to be his fault.

He closes his eyes. He thinks back to all the times he's been with Slushly, he thinks of his strength, of his determination, of all that fear he held onto that he never let get the best of him. They were both scared, but in the end— it was the latter who always managed to prevail, despite all the obstacles he faced.

It was much more than he could ever do. Nufuli finds it all so, so admirable. Slushly, even if he about to die right now— is much more of a hero than he will ever be.

Swimming in the darkness of his shut eyes, he waits for that slip across Slushly's throat that will indicate that it is all over. He doesn't want to see it, he knows he'll throw up right there and then, or do something absurd that he will definitely regret.

If there's one thing he is going to do though, he's going to take down Vanguard no matter what. In HD's name, and after this— Slushly's name as well. He will suffer now, but he prays that victory will taste sweeter than the bitterness than currently coats his tongue.

I'm sorry, Slushly.

Nufuli doesn't have the strength to hide his fear anymore. He is so scared, because it was Slushly's confidence that was holding him together. He is tired of hiding this exhaustion, this impending feeling that just makes him want to break down right there and then.

I'm so, so sorry, Slushly.

There's a sound that follows from Mugm. It is not smug, instead— it appears almost like surprise. Nufuli straightens his shoulders, eyes flying open with his head swivelling towards the voidling.

The slice that he expects never comes. Nufuli feels his lungs desperately crying out for air as he finds himself unable to breathe.

For a brief moment, all that fills the air is silence. No one talks, and no one moves, but the voidling has this curious, almost impressed look on his face that worries Nufuli even further.

Eventually, after a small exhale from Mugm, he speaks.

"You aren't killing him?"

He freezes, his eyes darting towards the invisible player, who is— by some miracle, lowering the blade from Slushly's neck, albeit with slight uncertainty. After they glance between a barely-conscious Slushly and the blade, they finally shake their head back and forth.

No. They aren't killing him. They aren't killing him, they aren't, they aren't— he's safe—

"Please—" Nufuli's voice is a wreck, squabbling to find his voice as the first breath of air finds its way back into his body. He sounds so unbelievably desperate, so broken, but he really, really doesn't care one bit.

Mugm tilts his head, looking almost amused. "Huh, okay. Sure. If that's what you really want to do, I guess."

There's this beat where the invisible player second guesses their decision, and for a moment— Nufuli thinks he's about to be begging for Slushly's life again, but they take one glance back at his terrified face, and slowly drop the limp figure from their arms.

There's so many scenarios where things could just get worse from here, like Mugm deciding to simply kill Slushly right there and then, having him bleed out before Nufuli can get to him, an ambush where they both end up dying, or realizing that this invisible player is Aspen. The list goes on and on, and the fact that Slushly is still alive, letting out little gasps of pain does little to tend the flames of terror burning in his mind.

"Mugm, you said you would. Give him back." He says, with as much confidence as he can manage. It's not a lot, clearly. The voidling just looks at him with a funny look in return.

"Wow. I didn't think Slushly meant that much to you, honestly. I think it's kind of pitiful. I actually retract my statement, in fact. Neither of you guys have Vanguard potential." Mugm replies plainly, but complies and pushes his student back lightly to handle the wounded man himself.

Nufuli's lips press into a tight line, but he doesn't bite the bait that's dangled in front of him. Instead, he waits silently and prays that Mugm will finally comply.

He watches attentively as the voidling crouches down, uncorks a vivid red potion, tilts Slushly's chin back, and pours the liquid down his throat. Some of the faint bruises fade immediately, while the larger scratches and wounds begin to close.

Before Nufuli can stop himself, he takes a cautious step closer towards the vanguard and finds a question tumbling out, "Why? Why are you—" He grimaces, "What do you gain out of doing this?"

For a moment, Mugm pauses. The cold glass remains pressed against Slushly's lips for a second longer before he hums, and lowers the potion. "Wouldn't you like to know? It's really none of your concern, Nufuli. This is just for them." He answers, pointing a finger towards the invisible player who is standing next to him, awkward and fidgeting.

"Torturing him?" He asks incredulously, his chest heaving. Anger stirs in his chest, and the sheer thought of this all being some elaborate lesson to his invisible student makes him beyond infuriated.

Mugm raises his eyebrows, "No, of course not. It isn't torture, I literally just healed him. He opposes Vanguard, so I took initiative like I should. Your way of thinking is so close-minded."

"You killed my best friend! Of course i'm going to go after Vanguard! I'm— I'm not close-minded, you're just twisting my words now." Nufuli argues.

The voidling's gaze flickers towards the player beside him. He doesn't argue back, just shrugs, and grabs Slushly by his shoulders. He's not rough with it, but it certainly isn't gentle either.

"Well then," Mugm says with a pliant tone, "Here. I could have killed him, but I didn't. I'm not heartless, Nufuli. What I do for Vanguard is for the good of the server and I don't understand why you don't see that."

Before Nufuli can reply, he sees Slushly being tossed into his arms, and he has to quickly steady himself as to not collapse with the other in his arms.

It's relieving— or, as relieving as things can get. There's faint currents of electricity sparking from his skin, and he's still familiarly warm to the touch. It's Slushly, and he's alive.

"Nufuli," The vanguard calls, and with a stubborn glare, he tilts his head up to meet Mugm's gaze. "Go on. Thank them."

Nufuli opens his mouth in protest. That's so unbelievably petty, but of course, it's Mugm. What should he have expected? Of course he's requesting something so absurd.

"I'm not—"

"Slushly would've been dead if they said no, we had no reason to keep him alive. Say thank you, Nufuli." He repeats flatly. It isn't out of the question to suggest that Mugm would do something in retaliation, so without much choice— he decides to take the safer option, and relents.

Begrudgingly, he turns towards the invisible player, and through gritted teeth, "Thank you... for not killing him."

Mugm looks pleased with himself, he gives his student a pat on the shoulder, murmurs something about 'discussing this later' as if he is some parental figure, and leaves, just like that.

There's not as much mockery as he would expect, but the whole situation itself feels like the most mocking aspect out of everything. Mugm doesn't need to say anything just to make him feel worse about himself, and him saying nothing actually does reinforce that.

He swallows the dust that tracks from the trails they leave behind. He feels so unbelievably shitty. It should feel relieving, to have his friend alive, but his pride is so absolutely destroyed and buried five feet deep that the tradeoff barely feels worth it.

Nufuli was trying so hard to protect Slushly, and this is what happened. He's doing a god-awful job, that's for sure. 

"Slushly," He says softly, pulling up the fabric covering his wounds to directly apply another healing potion. They're not out of the clear just yet. He can't risk the injuries closing improperly from a totem, so he has to directly heal the wounds before Slushly actually dies from blood loss, if that's still even a possibility.

The man stirs in his arms, letting out a pained groan. Once the deepest wounds aren't gushing blood anymore, he heaves him to a nearby tree, propping Slushly against the trunk.

"Nuf—" Slushly starts, but Nufuli decides that he actually doesn't want to risk him doing anything until he's away from the brink of death, so he quickly shushes him and gets back to patching him up.

He can feel Slushly's quiet gaze on him as he works. He's compliant, and tries his best to stop his writhing when Nufuli presses disinfectant onto his wounds.

After disinfecting, everything else becomes relatively easier. He works in silence for a while, letting the gentle breeze that blows through the dried plains dissolve the lingering tension in his shoulders. He can see that as he is bandaging the cuts and applying the last of his healing onto the lingering bruises, Slushly is beginning to think, with a look of guilt that Nufuli can see right through all of his exhaustion.

Nufuli notices, hums, then goes back to rolling gauze around his arm. He doesn't want to make Slushly feel any worse about himself— he knows that the other has a habit of trapping himself in his mind.

It isn't until he's holding a golden apple to the other's lips that Slushly finally takes the initiative to speak.

"Why did you come?" He asks, barely above a whisper.

He pauses, and lowers the glimmering fruit from Slushly's mouth. "What do you mean,  'why did I come'? Why wouldn't I come?" Nufuli replies in confusion.

There's a flash of surprise in Slushly's face, and his face crumbles in this way that Nufuli can't exactly describe. "Because—" He swallows, carefully reaching out to take the apple from his hands, "Because I know what you think of me."

"What do you think I think about you?" Nufuli questions flatly, "Of course I'm going to come for you if you're in danger."

"I just— I— I thought.." Slushly's voice breaks off, and he sounds near to tears as his hand tilts the golden apple back and forth in his palm. "I thought I was too weak for you." He admits softly.

"Dude," Nufuli is dumbfounded, "You were going against Mugm. Of course you weren't going to win against him. He has so many command block items, and he had a student as well. You aren't weak for losing to him."

"No, you don't get it." Slushly argues desperately, "I lost because I don't know when to stop. I know it's stupid, and pathetic— and I know that what I fight for is dumb, so I don't— I don't know why you didn't just..." His voice is hysterical, almost breaking off into a sob, "Leave me for dead."

"Because you aren't weak, Slushly." He insists.

"But I am! I am, Nufuli. I'm a burden, and you shouldn't have come. I had to watch you beg on your knees for my life because of me being stupid."

Nufuli thinks back to the tears, to the begging, to that sinking feeling in his chest that was telling him that Slushly was going to die. He takes a deep breath, then places a gentle hand on the others shoulder. "Slushly. Look at me, bro."

Through glassy eyes, Slushly's gaze meets his.

"I wasn't faking the tears, or the begging. If I didn't want you as my teammate, and I wouldn't have come at all. I would probably be dead already if not for your help— so no, you aren't useless at all." Nufuli whispers reassuringly.

Slushly seems unconvinced, so he continues, "I'm serious. I don't want to see you die. We've both lost some of our closest friends to the hands of Vanguard. I'm not losing you too."

"You don't have to pretend—"

"I'm not pretending! I'm— I'm fully serious, okay? I swear." Nufuli's other hand moves down to the apple, still rocking back and forth in Slushly's palm. "You don't have to believe me, but at least eat the goddamn apple so that you won't quickdrop again." He says with a quiet huff.

That manages to draw a small laugh out of the other, and he takes that as a tiny victory. The electricity wrapping around his arms are slowly getting stronger again, more familiar to the Slushly he knows.

"I'm sorry for being stupid," Slushly mumbles, discreetly trying to wipe his eyes after finally taking a bite from the apple. "I shouldn't have taken that fight."

"It's fine. I've been there," Nufuli responds easily, "It was pretty rough. He's good, worthy of being Vanguard. If that's his student, I can't be too surprised."

"I mean, the student had Mugm's swords, so I guess it was a little unfair." He admits.

"Oh," His eyebrows lift, a giggle of disbelief escaping along with it, "Very unfair. I'm glad you lived to tell the tale."

The corners of Slushly's lips lift in the slightest, forming the smallest, most manageable smile, given the situation. "I mean, it's thanks to you. Credit where credit is due." He replies earnestly.

Nufuli chuckles, shaking his head. "No, seriously, though— I'm really glad you didn't die. I'm... uh, thankful to be your teammate."

"Well, you crying at their feet was probably the deciding factor, so I owe you for that." Slushly retorts, but not before adding, "I'm glad to be your teammate too." His voice is quieter with that addition, because even though Nufuli has just saved him, he's unsure if the other still shares the sentiment that they're friends.

Nufuli stretches out, yawning as he sprawls across the grass. It's actually not too bad under the tree, if he ignores the bloody trail and flashbacks of scrambling to heal Slushly before he dies.

He thinks about what he called Slushly earlier, a deadweight. Seeing things clearly now, he doesn't think that this could be further from the truth.

Sure, he definitely still thinks that was the other stands for is stupid. But instead of a bitter resentment, instead of a tug of annoyance in his chest that wants nothing to do with him, there is a fondness that settles instead.

He'll protect Slushly for as long as he reasonably can, because his morals, as foolish as they are— are something that he can't help but admire.

Fighting Mugm was a dumb choice, Nufuli does agree. But the more he thinks about it, the more he understands why he did it. That want to prove himself, and to be given a direct chance to kill the main aggressor in all of this— he doesn't actually blame Slushly for taking that fight.

In the bigger picture, it would've been good. Killing Mugm would severely damage Vanguard, and it would've set them much closer to their goal.

If only things were that easy, though.

"Hey," Nufuli says, peeling open one eye to glance at Slushly. He seems to be just as lost in his thoughts, picking at a peeling edge of his bandages. "Slushly. Did you ever find out who that invisible player even was?"

The other looks over at him, shaking his head glumly. "No. I wish though."

Recalling the student, there's this hint of familiarity that he just can't seem to shake. The way they behave is something akin to someone he's known before, but he just can't put his finger on it. At least they're humane enough to spare Slushly though, he thinks. They're not quite vanguard level in terms of cruelty yet, and he's never been more relieved.

"Right." He responds plainly, "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

To that, Nufuli gets a loud groan in return. He turns to see Slushly slouching against the tree, his head in in hands.

"Can we just— rest for a bit before we get the next key?" He whines, staring up at Nufuli with pleading eyes.

"Sure, sure. Whatever. I don't want you dropping to the next vanguard we fight." He agrees, shoulders shaking as he quietly laughs.

Before they know it, they're both laughing among themselves, little giggles and laughter that feel completely wrong considering that just around twenty minutes ago, Slushly was dying.

It's good. He's okay, he's alive, he's breathing. But Nufuli finds his laughter faltering.

Though this is all nice, his own behaviour is a little forced. Because from what he's learned, the best way to protect someone is to let them go, and he can't protect Slushly forever.

Seeing the other so happy for once, he almost feels bad. His mind has already formed a plan to eventually betray him, and take all the keeps to keep the other safe. He knows that Slushly will hate him for this, but he'd rather he hate him than Nufuli would rather have him dead.

"Nufuli?"

He blinks. Slushly is cheekily grinning, all the traces of his earlier despair now wiped clean off his face. "Hm?"

"Thank you, really."

His heart sinks a little deeper, but all he can respond with in a small nod. "Anytime."

For now, they can both enjoy the fact that they're alive, despite their horrible circumstances.

The worse will come later, and they will take the peace they have now while they have it. But until that 'worse' does come, it's just the two of them against the world.