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Spoke stands at the edge of his kingdom.
His civilization.
His control.
Not his home.
Never his home.
He came back here.
After his talk with Commander.
To think.
Spoke looks into the void.
It’s comforting.
Always has been.
The void looks back.
Spoke laughs.
Harsh.
Powerful.
Controlled.
Always controlled.
He has control now.
Not Jamato.
Not Ash.
Spoke.
…
…
…
Everything.
Everything!
It’s all paid off!
Every sacrifice.
Everyone he’s killed.
Everyone that dared stand in his way.
Gone.
Dealt with.
Spoke laughs.
He can pretend he cares all he wants.
They’ll listen.
But they are all worthless.
Meaningless.
Nothing but obstacles.
…
…
…
Jumper betrayed.
She was working with Jamato.
Against him.
How naive he was.
Not anymore.
Not anymore.
Not anymore.
Friends are obstacles.
Spoke doesn’t do obstacles.
…
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…
Friends aren’t meaningless to him.
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…
That's his problem.
His god-awful problem.
He didn’t kill Minute.
He didn’t kill Jumper.
Hell, he didn’t even kill Jamato.
…
…
…
…He didn’t want to think about Mapicc.
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…
If he thought about Mapicc…
All progress.
Would be gone.
So Spoke pretends to not care.
Just as in some ways, he does pretend to care.
…
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…
Spoke has always been a liar.
He understands people.
Their use.
Exactly how to use them.
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…
Because who wouldn’t trust the most energetic person in the room?
Who wouldn’t trust the person who cares too much about a fish?
Who wouldn’t trust the person who is always smiling?
Always excited?
Always talking.
Energetic.
Maybe a bit annoying.
…
…
…
…People are open books.
Simple creatures.
They follow the powerful.
Out of fear.
Spoke can read people.
Spoke can use people.
Spoke can lie.
Spoke can manipulate.
And he can do it well.
And he doesn’t feel remorse.
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Because how can someone so convinced he is doing right, be wrong?
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The only thing keeping him from taking over the server.
A small voice.
Multiple small voices.
The first is wearing a shirt incredibly too big for it.
A rainbow bandana sits sideways on its head.
A red-beaded bracelet on its wrist.
…
The second one has two twin buns in its hair.
The same rainbow bandana no longer crooked.
A red-beaded bracelet sitting on one of it’s horns.
The shirt from before has been turned into a crop-top.
It sits over a striped long-sleeve shirt.
…
The third.
The third one.
It wears a rainbow bandana, once again crooked.
It wears its hair down.
The red-beaded bracelet still on its horn.
A red chestplate.
Tired eyes.
Frantic.
Scared.
…
Spoke tears his eyes from the void.
Looks at his hands.
One hand.
Clutching the rainbow bandana.
No longer on his head.
The other.
Clutching the red-beaded bracelet.
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He holds the red-beaded bracelet over the void.
Giggles.
A time ago, he would have had tears in his eyes.
Not now.
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He drops it.
The red-beaded bracelet falls.
Into the emptiness which is the clutches of the void.
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“I made these for us!”
The voice with the crooked bandana grins.
“Bro, are you serious?!”
A voice of someone Spoke no longer thinks of.
Refuses to think of.
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Spoke doesn’t smile.
He hasn't since he became leader of null.
There was a time.
He might have.
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Spoke looks at the rainbow bandana.
Still in his hand.
There is dirt on it.
Blood.
Stains from years of never being taken off.
Staining his very soul.
The stains are attachment.
Stains are weak.
Stains are everything he used to be.
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Spoke closes his eyes.
…
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…
“Spoke, I have a gift for you.”
A man in a tuxedo smiles at him.
His dad.
“Really!?”
A voice with no bandana.
Excited.
The gift.
It’s a rainbow bandana.
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“We match now!”
The voice with the crooked bandana.
The voice of someone who no longer matters giggles.
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Spoke opens his eyes.
He is standing on a mirrored floor in the void.
The small voices stand in front of him.
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Number one looks at him with nothing but fear.
Spoke stares back.
“How could you do that?”
It asks.
“How could you be so horrible?”
Spoke glares.
“I don’t want to turn out like you.”
Its speaking is annoying him.
It is a stain.
Tears fall from its eyes.
Scared.
Sad.
Disgusted.
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Number two picks up the stain.
Number two looks at him.
“We were doing the right thing.”
It says.
Ah, another bug.
“What happened to doing the right thing?”
Another stain on the rainbow bandana.
Spoke glares at it.
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Number three doesn’t say anything for a while.
Only looks at him.
Permanently sad eyes bore into his cold ones.
Hair messy and untaken care of.
Too skinny to have been eating properly.
If at all.
Holds itself as if something would kill it at any moment.
As if it were tired.
Spoke’s eyes soften at the sight.
But only slightly.
“I just want Mapicc back.”
It whispers.
Voice cracking.
“I want to go home.”
The worst stain of all.
Spoke steps towards it.
“I want things to be okay again.”
Another step.
Spoke’s eyes harden.
He draws his sword.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As to not scare it.
It steps back.
Fear jumps into its eyes.
Wild.
Impulsive.
Like a wounded puppy.
It holds its arms against its chest.
As if that would stop Spoke.
“I want to see spawn again.”
It continues to back up.
Slowly.
As if it is too starved to even move.
Spoke is faster.
He catches up.
Grabs it by its collar.
Tears fall from its eyes.
What a pathetic, broken thing.
“I wanna go home.”
It says again.
“I wanna go home.”
“I wanna go home.”
“I wanna go home.”
“I wanna go—”
It falls.
To its knees on the floor.
Its red chestplate is gone.
It is nothing.
Nothing but a broken shell of itself.
With a sword piercing through its torso.
It looks down.
Hair falls around its face.
Blood pools on the floor.
Only then, does Spoke look at his own reflection.
Short hair.
No bandana.
No red-beaded bracelet.
Green chestplate.
Clothes underneath replaced with a black shirt.
Eyes empty of all emotion.
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…
Spoke turns away from the broken stain that is number three.
Towards the other two.
Number one looks petrified.
Number two looks disappointed.
He walks over to number two.
Still carrying number one.
He takes the crying stain from the childish one.
Number two fights back.
Yells.
Tries to protect the crying one.
…
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…
Spoke is still the one with a sword.
Number two falls.
Number one is screaming.
Spoke glares at it.
Sets it down.
It runs over to the corpse of the childish one.
Sobbing.
Pleading.
It looks at Spoke as if he is a monster.
…
…
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…Maybe he is.
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Spoke makes quick work of number one.
Pretends not to hear its cries.
He breaths.
His reflection stares at him.
Through the mirrors.
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…
Spoke opens his eyes.
He’s holding the rainbow bandana over the void.
And he drops it.
Watches it fall.
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Spoke digs around in his pocket.
Pulling out a gift.
From Commander.
He ties the green bandana around his head.
And Spoke smiles.
Because finally.
After years.
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The facade finally cracks.