Chapter Text
He’d been running for what felt like hours. The rain was obstructing his vision of the forest, but that didn’t stop him.
He couldn’t stop now, he has to leave this place. Not for the sake of the server, not for the players, not for anyone. But for himself.
He didn’t wanna get hurt again.
Not like last time-
-SHIT!
The player tripped to the ground. Something on the side of his head aches, something must’ve gotten caught during the chase. He ignores it and quickly gets up, leans on to the tree for support as the rain and exhaustion weigh him down. He takes a quick glance on his wrist.
4 hearts. 5 hunger bars.
He checks his inventory. Quarter of a stack of steak, enough to ration into two pieces each and get him a few more hundred blocks out.
An arrow nearly hits his face as he hears the sound of it hitting the trunk beside him. Adrenaline rushes his body once more, not caring about anythnig else. Not even the injuries scattered on his frail body.
Everything fucking hurts.
“Oh~! Would you look at that?!” A voice in front of him sang the words, mocking the boy caught in the webs. “His infamous chestplate broke! Awh how sad it must be to lose a such treasured item…”
Spoke backed up into the wall, both hands clutched on his hoodie trying to get his composure together. Or whatever’s left of his remaining sanity doing all this.
“Mapicc please…” He tries to reason with the man in red. His only best friend. “This is all a trick! Jamato’s doing all of- urkh!” He feels a sharp tip on his neck. It hurts. Please get that thing away from me.
“No can do Spoke. Now…” Mapicc presses the spear a bit more into his neck. stop stop STOP PLEASE IT HURTS-
“Where’s the exit?”
You could always message me if you’re in trouble y’know? I’ll drop everything and come to your aid no matter what.
He remembers a person offering him help in a distant memory. He grabs his communicator and tries to remember the person’s nametag.
A whoosh and thud is heard behind him. Another arrow hurling towards him.
He knows doesn’t have much time. He runs and runs, typing frantically as he avoids the people chasing hunting him down.
He manages to send messages, albeit with many typos and in bad grammar, but it should be enough to alert them.
You whisper to [][][][][][]: hrl[
You whisper to [][][][][][]: peorlp chsigm me
You whisper to [][][][][][]: nck bledunh bad toom uch
You whisper to [][][][][][]: nowpleas
He’s reached the edge of the woods, only an open field outside now. But it had tall enough grass for him to sneak through until he comes across another forest to run into. He can lose the soldiers in here.
He hears footsteps approaching from behind him. He jumps into the field and hopes that no one catches on to his plan soon.
He coughs up another handful of pale pink blood. This strains his neck further.
“Mapicc- I can’t- hmp!” He attempts to talk to the demon despite the pricking pain, but the other presses it further, drawing a few bits of pale blood from the voidling.
“Don’t even try and speak bro. Just- point to where it is Spoke.” He cuts Spoke off again, demanding he gesture towards it. With no choice —and the small hope that Mapicc will retract the spear— he points to where he came from.
Mapicc looks to the direction he pointed to, then back to Spoke. “You’re sure? No tricks, nothing?” He asks, still not trusting Spoke.
Spoke simply nods carefully, as Mapicc still hasn’t retracted nor lowered the spear… and is showing no signs of doing so.
“Well… I’ll be going now. I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done to me. To Jumper. To ALL the people back in those camps.” Mapicc starts to talk, not letting go of the spear. It stirs a bit. Spear digging deeper into Spoke.
“All those talks, those plans… it was just manipulating us huh? Dragging us into this NONSENSE-!”
Spoke tunes out Mapicc’s next words. He’s going to leave anyway. Why should he care for theatrical goodbyes if they’re not even gonna be on good terms anymore. He just wants to be alone. Spoke wants warmth.
…Where is warmth anyway?
Everythings cold down here. It’s also cold up there. Its cold everywhere. He want to be with papa again.
He wants to be back in his room, playing with the trinkets and mechanisms [][][][][][] gave him.
…Who’s [][][][][][] again?
Fuck that. Spoke just wants warmth again, he wants out of this godforsaken place. He wants to escape.
Spoke wants to be free of everthing aside from just leaving this place, he just wants to-
“-die. I hope you fucking die.” Spoke hears the voice choke on tears.
Die?
The voice looming in front tries to stop a sob but fails, continuing with their censure towards him.
“When you see the light for the last fucking time Spoke, I want you to realize all your actions. EVERYTHING that led us to this point and admit that you are the root of all this. From those exploits, to giving him the coords, to people being hunted for your mistakes. I want you to know deep in your heart.
You caused all this. Not Jamato, not Leo, not even that motherfucker Ash. All of this was caused on your own fucking hands Spoke.”
Spoke doesn’t register the next words from the voice as a portal is summoned behind the person in front of him. He sees pitch black people pour out of the violet vortex. The person in red looks back.
Schhhhlick!
And points a pale pink tipped diamond spear towards the soldiers.
He finally got away with no one following him, but he doesn’t lower his guard too much. Someone might still be there.
He runs, runs, and RUNS until he’s deeper in the forest. Only then does he check the communicator again once he felt safe.
[][][][][][] whispers to you: fuck
[][][][][][] whispers to you: where r u right now
[][][][][][] whispers to you: send coords asap
[][][][][][] whispers to you: please be safe spoke
Spoke… who was that again?
…oh yeah that was his name.
Spoke, yes he is he thinks, sends him his current coords, double checking that his coords are indeed in the farlands.
You whisper to [][][][][][]: (coords)
You whisper to [][][][][][]: duble checkd it
You whisper to [][][][][][]: migt haveto runsoont ho
You whisper to [][][][][][]: pls hurry
Just as he sent the last message, he felt a penetrating sting on the side of his neck, knocking him down to his knees. Spoke looks through his periphial vision as it was located around his right side.
An arrow.
Fuck.
Shit someone was here.
Spoke immediately coughs out blood and gets down on his knees trying to caress the wound but to no avail, the arrow was too deep in his flesh. Too much blood was seeping out now.
He could feel himself lose conciousness second by second. He tries to scramble away as a person —who he assumes is the one the shot him— comes into view. They stop before they could become fully visible to Spoke.
He uses this time to print away with his remaining stamina. Go away away AWAY from his soon-to-be captor. A captor who seemed familiar, but Spoke didn’t have time to think about who it was.
This was a potential life or eternal suffering situation. Death wasn’t an option in this hell right now.
Spoke stops after a while. He thinks he’s now lost them. He reminisces on what could’ve been if he had stayed in the maze. But nothing comes into mind. All he can think about was how he escaped that horrible scenario.
“What the-!” Red person couldn’t get the words out of their mouth in time before getting jumped by the people from the portal that spawned.
The person, while fighting the ones in black, turns to Spoke the voidling and starts to accuse him of a ploy. “Was this another one of your goddamn plans Spoke?! You can’t keep getting away with this- AGH!” The spear is thrown out of his hands, he switches to the sword.
The voidling just wants out of this place.
“C’mon Spoke! Stop the tricks and face me like a man! Don’t send your men to me because you’re defenseless now!” He shouts. “Shit- Fuck!” Half his armour was now gone, broken due to the people actively fighting him.
He wants to run, but where?
“Shit, I need to get to the stairs before I lose anymore stuff. SPOKE! Where were those-irk! stairs again?!” He shouts again, when Spoke looks towards the voice, the majority of the guy’s resources like GAps and potions were running out. Then the words register to his brain.
The stairs! The spiral one where he came from!
While the two parties were busy, the boy carefully gets out of the webs, staying alert so that the man in red doesn’t notice him and give away his location. Just as he manages to sneak a few blocks away, he coughs up blood. First at nothing, then the second on his hands
He stares at the pale colored substance on his hands.
Oh, he does have an injury on the neck, he almost forgot about that.
He realizes this might give away his location, so as he jogs in the distance, he immediately rips the ends of his bandana for a makeshift wrap on his neck and wipes the blood on his mouth.
He ignores the continuous feeling of wanting to look back. He reaches what looks like a blind spot that when turned, the figure can run and run so the chaser gets lost. He remembers the path to the staircase. He can do it.
Despite his hesitance, he does so anyway. And stares to the person being dragged into the portal in the distance. He someone in a deep navy cape walk out of the portal, looking around. He sprints.
He doesn’t wanna be subjected to whatever horrors are in the other side of the portal.
Maybe a short nap wouldn’t hurt right now…
Everything’s been intense the moment they he stepped foot into the farlands.
Spoke wants to rest. He lays down and curls up. It’s cold he thinks.
And sleep almost claims him there…
But not before feeling something… someone carrying him, and speaking to him in a very familiar voice.
“Don’t move too much, you’ll open your wounds. Now sleep, I’ll keep you safe in the meantime.”
Spoke fully embraces the darkness, who welcomed him back with open arms.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
“I’ll be taking him now, see you never you damn bastard.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Spoke wakes up, he groans as he raises his upper body from the bed, looking around. The room’s small like a bedroom, with wooden walls and wooden floors, the room had no windows, a chest next to a 2 block stone wall, and a book on a table next to his bed.
None of this felt familiar. He realizes he was in an unknown room.
He straigthens up almost immediately. Unknown meant danger. Danger meant possible harm. Harm meant possible death.
The mere thought of death jolts Spoke out of bed, trying to find a way out of the room. He tries to speak to the-
His throat throbs in pain. Oh god it hurts.
He puts his hands over his throat. He feels bandages tightly wrapped on that region. He feels liquid coming up his throat and immediately goes over to the convieniently placed bucket on the bedside to spit it out.
White blood. His throat burns.
He wipes the blood on his mouth using the covers of the bed and lets himself breathe.
Well… It looks like he can’t speak for the time being. He can still taste the metallic flavor of the blood.
Then it hits him. He remembers what happened before he passed out in the farlands. The chasing, Mapicc, the arrows, his injuries, Jamato, and a mysterious person coming to his aid.
Shit, now I remember.
Then he sees a mirror across the room.
Huh. How’d he not see that before? Probably because of the wood all over the room reflecting. And because it has not borders.
He walks over and looks at himself.
Damn he’s messed up.
First, he had no upper clothing, most likely for the person that had to treat him when he passed out. So upon looking at the mirror, he deduces he has a lot of scars littered on his body, thanks to the many bandages visibly wrapped on his chest, torso, neck, basically everywhere at this point. He even lifts his pants to check for any injuries there, and there was. All that running must’ve gotten him new wounds he guesses.
Second was his bandana. He was currently wearing a violet bandana. The ends were as long like his old one but wasn’t flashy enough in terms of its colors. He supposes it was better so that his identity wasn’t easily given away when he goes out. He notices his rainbow bandana on the table but it had been ripped by the ends. Then he remembers he used it as a bandage back in the maze in an attempt to cover his neck wound.
Third were his hands, the frostbite it had reverted back to his fingertips. Ever since he was taken in by Minute, he always had frostbite on the tips of his fingers, though it never affected him in a way. It just gave him a more colder touch whenever others held his hand. Though it would spread rapidly when he was stressed, all the way to his shoulders and numbing his fingertips the more it reach there. No one had ever saw it go farther than his elbow though, that’s why he would always wear a jacket to keep it hidden so he didn’t have to worry anyone.
Fourth was the lack of his earrings. Ever since after his exploit phase, he has always had those two earrings on the left of his ears, it was to signify his half of the pair Mapicc he had given him. He assumes it got caught on a tree when he was being chased in the forest. He looks closer to his ear, he notices the lobe of his left ear was gone, replaced by cotton and medical tape. Okay that explained the throbbing sensation he felt when he tripped back then, the earring had been ripped off due to force.
Though… who’s the person Spoke was talking about? Who was “he” exactly?
Spoke rummages through his memories to known who he was talking about. The farthest he remembers getting the earring was when a man in red clothing had given it to him after they raided the Zam Empire. He assumes this is the guyhe was matching with. But everything he could remember about the guy was blurry, almost as if he wanted to forget him.
But who was he again?
He searched for any mention of the man in the rest of his memories, all he remembers is a “-pick” at the end of their name. Spoke mutters all the alphabet and syllables he can think out his mind that can fit the puzzle. And one finally lands.
Mei-pick. May-pick. Mapick. Mapicc.
Mapicc. Mapicc was the one who gave him the earrings for their friendship.
Fuck! How could Spoke forget his best friend just like that?! Was he that stressed and traumatized that he would just forget someone so important to him?
…But then again, Mapicc was kinda the reason he lost his voice right now, he wanted to get out as soon as possible. Away from that fucking maze. Away from him. He doesn’t want to think about the other person. Thinking takes too much energy, and he needs to make a move before NULL gets him next.
He eyes the book on the table, below it was his hoodie that was nicely washed and cleaned up. He sits on the bed and opens the book, reading its contents. It was just a gut feeling, but it felt more gutty, like more trustworthy.
Hello Spoke, I don’t know when you will read this book, assuming you will even read it in the first place, but if you are then you’re safe in this room. I used special blocks to remove any trace of your nametag from other players’ perspective.
Back to the topic, you are currently being hunted down by the NULL army led by your former best friend who I will not mentioned to keep your mental health stable. I have bandaged you to the best I can, but I know someone who has more survival experience to take care of you. I believe you two will get along well with how… acquainted we are, he does know about you and your existence as of now so no need to introduce yourself unless you feel the need to.
Speaking of introducing oneself, your neck was heavily injured during your departure from the labryrinth. According to the depth of the wounds of your neck, you should be dead by now, so it’s a miracle you survived that predicament, but not without a price of course. I deem you unable to speak for the time being until further notice as trying to speak will strain the injuries and cause it to open, possibly worsening the injury and causing you immense pain.
Now that’s talked about, we need to get you to a safe place, and I know one that has been long abandoned by a player or two, but it should be big enough with many resources for you two to share with. I have also informed him of your soon-to-be arrival in the destination. He will be watching over you until I come there myself to check up from time to time. I am sorry that I am not able to keep you with me in my accomodations instead, as this could potentially reveal my location to the army too despite it being well hidden, but they are persistent I must say.
Now we shouldn’t waste anymore time, I prepared for you a supply of resources such as food and health pots on your journey on the way to the location, there are also an abundant of invis pots if you need to hide from people, especially those soldiers. Now I wish you the best of luck on your journey and I truly hope you get there unscathed, or atleast with minor injuries. Don’t worry, I will be watching over you from a distance, so you are in good hands. See you soon Little Prism.
— From [][][][][][]
P.S. idk why my name is like that in this serv but ih, we’ll meet eventually too, byebye!
(coords)
And at the end of the book was a set of coordinates which Spoke assumes in the safe location the person talked about in the book. Judging from the name, this was the same person that saved Spoke in the farlands. Spoke couldn’t pinpoint who the person was despite them mentioning that they knew each other before. All he remembered was the person’s voice back in the forest, it was eeriely familiar, though the voice was more composed and calm than what he recalls.
But he didn’t have time to think about that, he needed to get out and away from NULL’s radar, and that would be achieved by going to these coordinates first. Hopefully, this person was trustworthy, especially if they claimed to be acquainted with Spoke in the past. Spoke would literally curse the Minecraft Gods if this guy turned out to be evil and was just tricking him into a trap.
He wears his hoodie, the rainbow bolt somehow looking dull despite its bright color. Ties the lower half of his jellyfish hair into a rattail and ruffles the upper half. He grabs the shulkers in the chest containing the pots and two bundles, one filled with stacks of steaks and another with… stacks of enchanted golden apples?
Where the hell did the guy even obtain this much OP items?
…Whatever, atleast he has supplies to keep him intact.
He grabs the armor in the chest, full netherite with amethyst bolt trims, all with Unbreaking III and Protection IV. A sword with Sharpness V and Unbreaking III, shield with Unbreaking III, really just all the essential survival items with Mending and a bunch of bottle of enchanting for that purpose.
This guy really wants him safe huh?
There was also a fishing rod, with a note attached saying: “I cannot ever imagine you without your rod or your fish, so have this.”
That got a chuckle out of Spoke, this guy knew exactly how he operated.
And lastly, in the chest was something he had never expected to see again.
A water bucket, with a fish nametagged George Jr.
…The sight almost made him tear up.
Scratch that, he did stay for a bit more just to be with George Jr. And totally did not cry over his pet.
This sealed the deal that the guy was trustworthy enough for Spoke. They knew not to mention him, gave him supplies and a safe place, and even knew his pet, which only very few knew about.
He thinks its a bit creepy but who cares? Atleast someone knew what he was going through and gave him the small window of comfort he needed after that farlands journey.
After a while of reuniting with his fish, Spoke arms himself with a stack of E-GAps and two stacks of steak, the fishing rod, the armor, sword and shield, and George Jr on his off hand. Finally, he keeps around 4 pots of invis in case danger ever comes running at him or when he needs to run away from said danger.
Spoke takes a deep breath, and breaks the stone wall until he reached the edge.
When he gets out, he realizes he was nestled into the inside of a mountain, a great cover he thinks.
And for the first time in a while after the farlands fiasco, he welcomes the sunlight once more.
And sets off into the distance, following the coords.
Not noticing the white particles trailing behind him with silent footsteps.