Chapter Text
The metallic smell in the air has long since become familiar. Their chests rose and fell heavily as they struggled to catch their breath in the middle of a fight that hadn't yet ended. Out of the corner of their eyes, they could see splatters of blood, the remains of Grox's bodyguards that would later rot on the ground. No one was going to bury their bodies. Their gazes were locked on each other. The pistols pointed forward make them tense, but none of them shows it, hiding their anxiety behind a mask of self‑confidence and aggression. A strained, hoarse laugh escaped from the lord, while his enemy's hand tightened on his weapon. And still, silence enveloped them — a silence waiting for the sound of a gunshot, after which one of them would be pierced through by a bullet. But it never came. Instead, both heard crying. Childlike, loud, hysterical — it drew both of their attention. Their expressions shifted to something genuine, no longer feigned. Surprise and curiosity, readable in both pairs of their eyes, made them loosen their grip on their pistols, their hands relaxing slightly, letting the barrels drop — no longer aimed at the head, but somewhere at the body, where a wound might be survivable. Neither was thinking about that now. They shook their heads slightly, searching for the source of the noise. At first, no one moved; each kept the other in their field of vision, afraid that someone might still fire. But neither trigger was pulled. Silence surrounded them, broken only by the baby's wailing. Later, one of them finally took a step to the side, causing the other to flinch slightly at the enemy's movement. Frog slowly approached the source of the noise. His body was tense, brows slightly furrowed from the uncertainty and the knowledge that a bullet could come from behind at any moment. He relaxed slightly upon hearing his enemy approach from behind — his steps a little quicker, catching up to walk beside him.
And there they both stood over the tiny creature, blood still flowing through their bodies — whether their own or their enemy. The infant not only sounded like an enderman when crying but looked like one too. Not exactly identical, but close. Black as coal, with a bright red mouth. Grox smirked slightly, noting to himself that Froggy has the same feature, just a different color. Frog flinched slightly at the unexpected sound but made no comment. He bent down and picked up the small body. Both noticed that the crying grew a little quieter as the baby felt the warmth of another. Froggy looked at Grox and, after a few seconds, handed the infant to him. Understanding what was required of him, the lord holstered his pistol and, as carefully as his skill with children allowed, pressed the baby to his chest. Being from the Nether, his body was much warmer than Froggy's — a mix of human and cold-blooded animal. The infant unconsciously tried to press closer to the lord. His crying softened to whimpering, still not fully calming down.
"Maybe I missed something, but I'm pretty sure mobs are born fully independent," Grox was the first to speak to his enemy. "They look like smaller versions of the adult. Not... like this."
Grox gave the body in his arms a slight jiggle, receiving a louder whimper in response. Tsking, Froggy placed his palms—without touching the lord's—over the infant. He didn't take them, just held it in place so the lord wouldn't do that again and make the baby cry even harder.
"You're right... But he doesn't look exactly like an enderman either," Froggy assessed the child with his gaze. "He must be a hybrid of a human and an enderman. Just like me, huh?"
Finishing his speech, frog holstered his pistol, not taking his eyes off Grox and the baby. This sight evoked a strange feeling in him — something like doubt, disbelief, and incredulity at what was happening. It was more like a bizarre dream: starting with their weapons no longer aimed at each other but put away where they belonged, and ending with the lord gently holding a child. Although "attempting to hold gently" might be more accurate. Either way, it was still strange. How would a dictator and sadist know how to handle such fragile creatures? What mattered was that he hadn't shot the baby, who could have easily irritated him with their whining, nor Froggy, who — oh my god — had turned his back on him while walking toward the child.
"Aight bet! I'll take him! He'll be my heir," Grox said too loudly, earning another round of louder whimpers from the baby, who had just begun to calm down and seemed to be falling asleep.
"Leave him? With you?!" Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Froggy protested in a tone quieter than his usual voice.
"Well yeah, I need an heir!" Taking a cue from his enemy, the lord began speaking in a half-whisper. He'd understood that the baby in his arms was falling asleep.
"An heir? I'm pretty sure you can make one yourself. I'm sure none of your... 'fans' would be..." Froggy grimaced slightly at the image his brain conjured up. "...opposed."
"Ayo, I don't need those genes in my child!" Grox replied indignantly, grimacing too at what frog had imagined. "But this one at least has a chance to grow up normal."
"You'll ruin them!" Gripping the baby in Grox's hands a little tighter, he received a low rumble from the infant.
"Ayo chill! You think too little of me!" Hearing the sound from the baby, he didn't pull away them from Froggy, taking it as a sign of contentment since the child didn't whimper again.
"I'm just facing reality, Grox! You have absolutely no idea how to handle children, let alone infants!" 'Given your attitude toward villagers, you'd kill them all before they could raise him—or at least help you with it,' Froggy added in thoughts, deciding it wasn't worth saying aloud.
"Pff, as if you do!" Grox rolled his eyes, though he understood there was some truth to Froggy's words. He stared at the tiny being in his arms. Now he didn't want to abandon them out of pride.
"I do have a son, if you've forgotten!" Frog frowned back at the lord's gesture.
"Like you can call it 'a child'!" Both understood that wither skeleton meant how well Froggy's son handled weapons for his age, which already raised doubts about whether he could even be considered as a child.
"That's still some experience, you know!" Now it was the hybrid's turn to roll his eyes.
"I'd do fine without it!" The lord's voice regained its arrogance. The chuckle at the end only spurred them both on, and they glared at each other with challenge in their eyes.
"Pff, I'd like to see that. They'd be dead by tomorrow!" Such harshness surprised neither of them.
"Well, you'll see it then! Hold them," Grox handed the baby to Froggy, who was already holding the small body, making the transfer fairly quick.
Frog really didn't know what to expect now. Holding the baby, trying to minimize unnecessary movements to avoid discomforting the child, the hybrid stared at his enemy. The first thought that crossed his mind when Grox reached into his pockets was that he was about to be shot. But he immediately dismissed that possibility, considering the "future heir" in his arms—if Froggy took a bullet to the forehead, the baby would fall to the ground with him. Such a fragile creature might survive the fall, but the consequences would be harder to deal with, so...
There were no other variants in frog's head. So he was genuinely surprised when wither skeleton pulled out a radio, turned it on, and brought it to his mouth. He turned away and began speaking. Well, of course Froggy listened to everything he said.
"Prepare my room for an infant. No questions. If something isn't ready by the time I arrive — I'll kill everyone involved in the preparations. Including you." Hearing this, the hybrid pulled the baby closer to himself. Something about the child made Froggy not want to part with him. Not that he was a pacifist. He'd killed villagers too, just like Grox. But this tiny creature evoked too strong an attachment. Maybe because they were both a mix of mob and human? Possibly. In any case, the realization that Grox wanted to take the child from him stirred negative emotions. "And by the way, if anyone tries to kill Froggy when he comes with me, they'll be dead instead. Pass that on to everyone. If anyone disobeys — you'll be the first to answer."
Not bothering to wait for a response, Grox turned off the radio, put it back in his pocket, and turned back to his enemy. With a smug grin, he watched the expression on the frog's face, who stared back with wide eyes after his mention in the order. He didn't want the child to be left alone with the dictator, but raising the baby together WITH his enemy?.. Well, it was better than if the baby died the moment Grox got tired of them, right?
"Aight bet! Let's go, I really want to kill some — ahem — relax after our fight," waving his hand and smirking, the lord slowly took the baby — who started whimpering, searching for the previous warmth — back into his arms, meeting no resistance from frog. He understood from the sounds what the infant wanted.
Grox headed toward his domain, occasionally glancing at the small being in his arms. A small smile appeared on the wither skeleton's face whenever he paid more attention to the weight in his hands. He didn't look back, hearing the footsteps behind him, knowing who they belonged to. Yet some anxiety still lingered in his body, despite the small, unusual, and unexpected joy the child brought to the sadist. The awareness that his enemy was walking behind him, capable of putting a bullet in the back of his head at any moment — didn't let him relax. He almost regretted his impulsive decision: letting Froggy willingly into his domain. But there, the lord would definitely be safe, surrounded by servants and guards. Now he was alone with his enemy who wouldn't hesitate to spend all his strength on the desired death of the dictator. So he matched Froggy's pace to feel a false, almost empty sense of security. Walking side by side, they could both see each other. Their gazes occasionally met, then quickly darted away. From time to time, they glanced at the quiet infant, making sure he was alright. They said nothing to each other, sensing the tension in the other's body beside them. Each, in their own way, was afraid of being killed by the other. And was it even possible to raise a child in conditions where one would be the reason of the death of another, when they will be tired of parenting?