Chapter Text
Spoke didn't sleep. He didn't feel. He didn't even think.
Sometimes he forgot to eat.
He would crawl from his chair to pace as he realized he was slowly starving himself. His ribs would scrape against the inky-black flesh as his eyes glittered like stars in the void. The metallic taste of golden apples or carrots bored him now. In fact, most of this did.
Ever since he had escaped the hell of Purgatory, he had lived a lavish lifestyle.
No more rotten flesh or clothes that smelled of ash and his own sweat. He was now the leader of a powerful civilization. It was like he had the world at his fingertips.
But sometimes, when he took off his bandana and glanced to the windows, he never saw the palace he imagined. Instead, he saw himself.
And that scared him, because without his bandana or hoodie, he couldn't recognize himself anymore.
So, he would sit. He would sit on a throne in an empire that he never built but oversaw like a God.
He was God. Well, to the Null.
Now that he was a deity who was worshipped and respected, he didn't need friends. Now, he had this liberating feeling as if he didn't have a care in the world.
He was done by abiding to Mapicc and Jumper's standards. Like c'mon. He wasn't really made of friendship, unicorns, and rainbows. In reality, he was just a few experience orbs and a message in chat. Every player was. It wasn't like he was extraordinarily special.
What made each player special was what they did with that knowledge.
And that's when he knew. Everyone desired a happy ending. Parrot wanted to build a utopia for every player to not worry about starvation or death. Wemmbu wanted power. And Flame probably wanted to kill Wem. And him?
It was simple. That was what he was doing now!
He was going to make a perfect world in which he could watch the server fall into his hands. He was going to be the one in control.
To be fair, he did take inspiration off Jumper and her spies, but who's to say that the greatest innovations aren't born from a foundation?
The only thing that mattered was that he was going to be respected. He would be powerful. He would finally be able to fill that emptiness that he was born with.
And then he hesitated, which was pretty strange. He never hesitated. He was confident with his movements and orders. He was the ideal leader to make the world a better place.
Maybe it was the way he looked in the mirror.
His figure seemed much bulkier. Netherite armor that rose and fell like mountains. A crown that pierced the sky like horns above his head. Boots that made stealth less than ideal. His red armor trims rested upon his heart, beating and palpitating like a ticking-time bomb.
His eyes looked pretty sunken in his face. They glowed a ghostly white like bones or of lichen in caves like when he was grinding for gear with Mapicc.
Spoke smiled as he glanced to his right-side, expecting something.
"Spoke?"
"Commander," the voidling stated as he admired the aurora.
"It's ti-" the officer replied.
"Shh, let me aura farm for a bit."
He stared into the distance as his eyes bored holes into the empty space. It whispered all the sweet nothings that he had grown addicted to. This was all a lethal drug that he had indulged in, too far gone.
That's right. Effective. Powerful. Skilled. Intellectual.
These were all qualities Spoke would gift to this prospering nation. The server wouldn't know what hit them.
"Tell me, Commander," the voidling stated.
"How's Jamato?"
"He's been quiet ever since your meeting with him."
Spoke peered down from his balcony. He looked at the Null soldiers like little paws he could place in battle.
He was about to jump, eager to finish obtaining the end crystal. He would be free from the prison that he had traded another for.
Except, he didn't.
His body twitched as his eyes blurred in and out of vision as his legs liquified.
God dammit.
Why?
Why are you hesitating now?
What if they didn't have it? What if Jamato was quiet for a reason? What if he rigged the cannons? What if there was a traitor among them? Were they really loyal to someone they had locked in a cage for months on end? How would he ever be as respected?
No, he was being stupid. He was overthinking again.
Spoke scoffed.
Impossible.
But that was the same thing Jamato thought before he had escaped over and over and over and over again in the hell hole.
When he had seen Vix's body, smashed. Beaten and battered. Squashed like an insignificant fly.
Was it really his fault?
No. He had the totem! He had the power of Null! He had pried it from Jamato's grasp and risen to unimaginable lengths. This was his. He deserved this. It wasn't his fault. It was Jamato's. The beetle had underestimated him. And now he would suffer in the void of nothingness until his mind broke. Simple as that.
Just like how Jamato had left him in that cell, Spoke was going to burn the remnants of his life.
"Lead the way,"
***
The wither cannon worked.
At first, he wanted to laugh and pump his fists in the cold, unyielding air of the End. Then, he wanted to destroy the dimension as there was no end crystal. But as he thought more about it, he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to go back to his tower and dream.
Wait, on second thought, he also wanted to go back to the Overworld.
"Spoke?" Underscore cleared his throat.
"Did you find the end crys-?" Spoke inquired.
"Jamato is gone,"
The voidling's body stilled.
"... What?"
The commander shifted uncomfortably, "Jamato is-"
Spoke held up his fists, issuing a silence.
"Fuck," he stated, "Fuck!"
The trip back was just a blur of darkness and the occasional beige ring of islands.
In his panic, which quickly transferred into fury, Spoke launched himself from the outer islands of his empire.
You see, Jamato was a tricksy fellow. Even with all the knowledge in the world, he had purposefully hidden his power from the server, accumulating more and more wealth while players like him suffered.
So, Spoke knew he wouldn't linger for much longer. He would leave something. He would make sure Spoke heard word of his escape and how he had managed the impossible.
"Are you absolutely certain that he isn't on the island anymore?" He grit his teeth.
Underscore glanced back to the void, "We're positive."
The voidling cursed under his breath.
"I need an elytra."