Chapter Text
Wemmbu had always been a spoiled brat.
Living in a kingdom where his parents were the King and Queen, his entitlement was practically guaranteed.
But it wasn't just luxury that defined him. Wemmbu had a volatile, explosive temper and was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. At the ripe age of nine, he was already blowing up entire civilizations for his own personal benefit.
The breaking point finally arrived during a festival.
When a visiting foreign diplomat accidentally stepped on Wemmbu's luxury boots, causing him to tumble onto the concrete ground, Wemmbu didn't just demand an apology.
He flew into a blind fury.
He overturned banquet tables and physically attacked the guest as everyone watched in horror. Guards were eventually forced to drag him away.
It was an international disaster—and a total server catastrophe.
Having created far too many enemies and left absolute destruction in his wake, his parents finally broke. Recognizing that Wemmbu had become a danger to the realm, they signed a decree together.
Exile from the kingdom.
Stripped of his weapons, his custom Netherite gear, and his royal sigil, Wemmbu was dragged to the outer boundary of the kingdom.
The heavy iron gates slammed shut behind him.
Cutting him off from the palace forever.
Wemmbu kicked at the dirt, his face flushed with familiar rage.
"OPEN THESE GATES!" he screamed, slamming his fists against the reinforced iron.
But his threats—which once made generals and casual players tremble—now fell on deaf ears.
The guards standing on the walls didn't even look at him.
As the hours passed, the adrenaline from his anger slowly began to fade. In its place came something far colder.
Silence.
The sun dipped below the tree line, leaving the dirt road shrouded in darkness. Wemmbu instinctively reached for the sword that usually hung at his hip.
His hands found only empty, coarse fabric.
For the first time in his life, his chaos couldn't buy him obedience.
There was no one left to fear his temper.
No guards waiting for his orders.
No servants rushing to give him whatever he wanted.
No parents waiting behind the palace doors.
He was completely alone.
And as the darkness swallowed the road ahead of him, Wemmbu realized something that frightened him more than any enemy ever had.
He had absolutely no idea what to do next.
So, naturally, he blamed everyone else.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered, kicking a loose stone down the dirt road. "They'll come back for me."
They had to.
Hours passed.
Nobody came.
Eventually, Wemmbu began walking.
He didn't know where he was going. Somewhere out there, someone would recognize him. Someone would offer him food, shelter, weapons—something.
They always did.
After what felt like hours, Wemmbu noticed a faint glow between the trees.
A fire.
He immediately headed toward it.
As he approached, he saw two figures sitting beside a small campfire.
One of them looked up.
"Someone's there," Mane said.
The other turned.
Flame narrowed his eyes.
Wemmbu stopped a few feet away, staring at them.
Neither of them looked particularly welcoming.
Wemmbu frowned.
"Well?"
Mane raised an eyebrow.
"Well what?"
"Are you going to help me?"
Flame stared at him.
"Why would we do that?"
Wemmbu blinked.
"What?"
Mane slowly stood up.
"Who are you?"
Wemmbu straightened.
"I'm Wemmbu."
The two exchanged a glance.
Flame's expression immediately changed.
"Oh."
Wemmbu frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Mane crossed his arms.
"You're that Wemmbu."
Wemmbu's jaw tightened.
"Watch your tone."
Flame gave a short laugh.
"We've heard about you."
"Everyone has."
"Yeah," Mane said. "That's the problem."
The warmth from the fire suddenly felt distant.
Flame stood up.
"We heard about the places you've destroyed."
Wemmbu said nothing.
"The people you've hurt."
Still nothing.
"And now you've been exiled."
Wemmbu's face darkened.
"You don't know anything about me."
"We know enough."
Something inside Wemmbu snapped.
"Take that back."
Neither of them moved.
Flame looked directly at him.
"pfft"
Wemmbu froze.
Nobody denied him.
Not like that.
His hands curled into fists.
Mane noticed.
"Oh, here we go."
"Don't talk about me like you know me!"
Wemmbu suddenly lunged forward.
Flame stepped aside with ease.
Wemmbu's attack missed.
Before he could regain his balance, Mane shoved him away.
Wemmbu stumbled into the dirt.
For a moment, he stayed there.
Flame and Mane watched him.
"Are you done?" Flame asked.
Wemmbu slowly looked up.
His face was burning.
"No."
He charged again.
This time, Mane was ready.
Wemmbu barely got close before Mane forced him back.
"Stop," Mane warned.
"Shut up!"
Wemmbu tried again.
And again.
Every attempt ended the same way.
Wemmbu had fought soldiers.
Generals.
Entire groups of players.
But he'd always had weapons.
Armor.
People behind him.
Now, all he had were his fists.
And it wasn't enough.
Eventually, Wemmbu stumbled backward and fell.
Silence.
His chest rose and fell quickly.
His hands shook with anger.
Flame stood several steps away.
"You're pathetic."
Mane glanced at him.
"Flame."
"What? He attacked us."
Wemmbu pushed himself to his feet.
"I hate both of you."
Flame shrugged.
"Good."
Wemmbu stared at them.
"Fine. Then I'll leave."
"Good idea," Flame replied.
Wemmbu's expression faltered.
Only for a second.
Mane noticed.
"So you're really just going to let me leave?"
Flame frowned.
"You attacked us."
"And?"
Flame stared at him.
Wemmbu stared back.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Flame pointed toward the trees.
"The forest is that way."
Wemmbu didn't move.
Mane's expression remained cold.
"You can't just show up, attack us, and expect us to give you a place to stay because you're suddenly alone."
The words hit harder than Wemmbu expected.
"I'm not asking for a place to stay."
"Then what are you still doing here?"
Wemmbu opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Flame turned away and sat back down beside the fire.
"Go."
It was such a simple word.
But Wemmbu had never heard it directed at him before.
Not seriously.
Not from someone who actually meant it.
His fists tightened.
"I hope something destroys this stupid forest."
Flame didn't even look at him.
"Get in line."
Wemmbu glared at both of them.
Then he turned around and walked away.
At first, he walked quickly.
Like he didn't care.
Like he hadn't just lost another fight.
Like he wasn't completely alone.
But the further he got from the fire, the darker the forest became.
Soon, he couldn't see the path anymore.
The warmth from the campfire disappeared behind him.
All that remained was darkness.
Wemmbu stopped walking.
For the first time since his exile, there was nobody around.
Nobody to order.
Nobody to threaten.
Nobody to blame.
His parents had sent him away.
The guards had ignored him.
And now, even complete strangers wanted nothing to do with him.
Wemmbu looked back.
He could no longer see the fire.
His face remained angry.
But his voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter than before.
"...Whatever."
He kept walking.