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It’s cold.
He thinks.
It is not cold.
It is sweltering.
Spoke does not know that.
To him—
To Spoke, everything is cold.
Because he is alone.
Alone is cold.
It makes him numb.
He feels as if he can’t move his own limbs.
The maze.
It’s quiet.
He hasn't felt this quiet in a long time.
Spoke thrives off of having someone, if only one, to call a friend.
Spoke does not have that anymore.
…
…
…
He is grounded when he has someone.
That someone left.
His best friend.
His everything.
Spokes everything.
His entire world.
The person he continued to fight for.
The person he almost—
…
…
…
…He would have died in Capital City.
If he—
If Spoke set off the bomb.
He knew it.
Oh, he knew it.
…
…
…
Spoke does not remember sitting down.
Against the wall of the maze.
But he doesn’t much care.
It’s still cold.
The ground.
The wall.
…
…
…
Mapicc.
He—
Mapicc left.
…
…
…
Mapicc left Spoke.
A tangible thought.
Spoke clings to it.
A fact.
Something he—
Something Spoke can understand.
His thoughts don’t—
Make sense.
They are broken.
But they are his.
His thoughts don’t leave.
They only grow louder, and louder still.
…
…
…
His face is wet.
Yet another fact.
He clings to it.
He looks at his hands.
Shaking.
They are shaking.
Spokes hands are shaking.
Fact.
…
…
…
…It’s not quiet anymore.
His cries fill the night.
Not loud.
But there.
Real.
He is real.
Probably.
…
…
…
…There is a saying.
“If a tree falls in a forest— and nobody is around to hear it— does it make a sound?”
…
…
…
Spoke does not know this, but yes, the tree does make a sound.
Spoke does not know that although nobody heard the tree cracking, its trunk falling apart, its roots dying, the repercussions are felt.
Because that tree once was a source of life.
And the silence that follows the fall is much louder than the breaking of the tree.
Spoke doesn’t understand this.
He looks at the stars.
Free.
Bright.
He wishes—
Spoke wishes he were a star.
…
…
…
…Mapicc had once told him that—
He told him—
Mapicc once told him that stars are merely the bright souls of those who have passed away.
Mapicc had smiled at him then.
Would—
Could—
Could Spoke be a star?
Would Mapicc come back, if he were a star?
…
…
…
Would Mapicc love him again if he was?
…
…
…
Spoke hopes so.
…
…
…
He remembers—
Spoke remembers.
Spoke remembers when he and Mapicc were best friends.
He misses it.
…
…
…
He supposes this is karma.
He supposes he deserves it.
…
…
…
He doesn’t regret it.
Lying.
It was—
It was necessary.
…
…
…
Spoke is hungry.
He’s used to hunger.
It's something real.
To think about.
Instead of—
Instead of him.
…
…
…
Would he be pretty, up in the sky?
Dancing with the other stars?
Would he be accepted?
Would they hate him too?
Like Mapicc does?
…
…
…
…Probably.
…
…
…
Everyone hates Spoke.
…Well maybe not Jumper.
…Maybe not Parrot.
But Parrot didn’t help him.
When he needed it.
And now he is alone in a cold maze.
…
…
…
He shivers.
It is still warm out.
Spoke won't believe it.
…
…
…
He looks at his hands.
There are roses growing from them.
Reaching up to the sky.
To the stars.
Guilt.
It makes him—
It makes Spoke sick.
…
…
…
He looks away.
Looks back.
The roses are gone.
She is gone.
His—
Spokes fault.
Always his fault.
He… he had to do it.
He had to kill her.
“Please! You have to understand!” He cries to nobody in particular.
Nobody would hear him anyway.
“Please.”
His voice breaks.
…
…
…
There is a sword in his hands now.
Netherite.
Shiny.
Purple.
…
…
…
His breath hitches.
He looks at the stars again.
Bright in the sky.
He will become one of them.
…
…
…
Spoke does not scream as the sword impales him.
He only cries.
Not loudly.
He’s too tired to be loud.
He thinks of Mapicc.
He thinks of Jumperwho.
He thinks of Imajesticrose.
He thinks of Planetlord.
He thinks of PrinceZam.
Hell, he even thinks of Jepexx.
…
…
…
He thinks of Jamato.
And Ashswag.
…
…
…
He’s aware that he is bleeding out.
He doesn’t mind the pain.
It’s real.
He holds onto it.
…
..
.
His vision is fading out.
He is slightly aware of someone yelling his name.
…It’s Mapicc.
But it can’t be.
Can it?
…
…
…
Someone is hugging him.
Holding him close as he bleeds out.
Spoke opens his eyes.
And sees Mapicc’s devastated ones.
Is there a greater horror than that look?
The guilt is back.
He doesn’t want to die anymore.
Spoke doesn’t want to die.
Mapicc is yelling something as the panic sets in.
He feels like he's choking on air.
Gasping, breathing, living.
…
…
…
The world is spinning, everything is too much.
Too loud.
He feels like even the walls are screaming.
At him.
Always at him.
“Spoke, Spoke, look at me. Please bro. You can’t die. Don’t die on me. Please don’t die on me!” Mapicc yells, attempting to stop the bleeding by putting pressure around the sword.
Black spots dance in his eyes.
He smiles as he looks at Mapicc.
His eyes, blown wide in fear.
“I— I wanted to be a star. I thought you’d love me again if I were.” Spoke whispers as his consciousness fades away.
…
…
…
…Spoke doesn’t hear Mapicc’s cries.
He doesn’t hear anything.
And he never will again.
…
…
…
The stars continue to dance in the sky.
Bright and free.
There is not another addition to the beautiful sky.
There is only Mapicc on the cold floor, cradling his dead best friend in his arms.
Spokeishere was slain by Spokeishere.