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As a child, Seawatt knew he was going to make it far in life. He was special, he was different from the rest of the people in parkour civilization. He was a parkour fighter at birth, unlike everyone else who joined later. He knew he would one day become the parkour champion.
He was warned about the parkour champion from his parents. The old man wasn’t what he seemed to be. Despite knowing something was going to happen soon, his parents were too old to rank up and too stubborn to rank down.
Even though it hurt to leave his parents, he took their words to heart and kept practicing and practicing to rank up.
He was busy practicing his flower pot jumps when an unfamiliar person called out to him.
“Hey kid, good form.” Their voice was soft, but Seawatt could tell that they were much more dangerous than they appeared.
He turned around quickly, placing down a few jumps to protect himself. He squinted, taking sight of the man before him. He was tall, and was akin to a jester. This man had gold boots on; he was a parkour master. He knew he was going to be in for a tough fight.
“No need for all of that… I was simply complimenting you on your talents. It’s only natural for a person who was born in parkour civilization to be good at parkour.” The man laughed, waving his hand in dismissal.
Seawatt was still on high alert, still suspicious of him. There weren’t many reasons for a parkour master to come down a level. They felt as if they were better than the fighters, though he supposed that’s what everyone felt about others that ranked lower than them. “Who are you? Why do you know that?” He spit out, demanding answers.
“Let’s just say I’m a friend of the old man.” The man crossed his arms.
That set off even more alarm bells. If the old man was actually evil, then this person could be as well. “If you don’t leave I’ll be forced to battle you.” He said, his voice wavering slightly.
The man frowned. “Do you treat all of your spectators like this? I must say.. It’s quite rude.”
Seawatt kept his mouth shut, refusing to say anything more. This was all very suspicious. Maybe he was sent as a spy by the champion? Though he wasn’t even sure if the champion knew about his existence. Well, he could have if his friend knew.
“Not the one for words, are we… I was just going to suggest angling your foot closer to your body when making a jump like that.. Flower pot jumps have a smaller hitbox. It’ll be bad if you accidentally slip off.” The man shrugged.
Seawatt took a step back not expecting the sudden advice. He was right.. The reason he had been failing so many times was because he wasn’t accounting for how much smaller the flower pot was.
“Understand it now? I want to help you get better at parkour. No ulterior motives, I promise.” He put his hands up in mock surrender and grinned wide. Seawatt shivered, unnerved, but since he hadn’t harmed him yet, he had no choice but to believe him. “And don’t worry. I won’t do anything to you. I’m just going to watch you practice a little bit and offer advice when you need it.. Nothing else.”
Seawatt gave a small nod. He didn’t fully trust him, but his advice was good.
True to his word, the man never harmed him. By the end of his training that day, he felt like he had gotten better. It was nice to be coached by a parkour master.
From then on, the man would drop by once or twice a week just to watch him parkour. Seawatt took his advice to heart and eventually started looking forward to the days the man would come by. Two years went by quickly with all the training he was doing.
He liked the conversations they would have sometimes between the breaks in his practice. Once, he asked the man what the old man was like. All he got was a strained smile and nothing else. He made sure not to bring up the topic again.
“Seawatt, have you heard of a parkour race?” The man asked him one day in the middle of training. He held out his water bottle for Seawatt to take, signaling a break for the day.
“A.. Parkour race? What’s that?” He took the water bottle gratefully, taking a long drink of water from it.
“It’s where you challenge your opponent to a race, not a battle. You put everything on the line and it pays off.. The first person to make it to the end wins. Your opponent will lose instantly.”
“Why are you telling me about this?”
The man stood up, stretching his legs. “Because I want you to be aware of the option if you ever need to use it… I’ll teach you.” He placed a few blocks in succession. “You have to complete these jumps faster than your opponent.” The man went through the parkour race quickly and gracefully.
Seawatt was in awe. He had never seen someone complete such difficult jumps so quickly. A parkour race… If what the man was saying was true, then this could bring forth change in parkour civilization. He was more than excited to learn how a parkour race worked and how to do jumps as fast as he did.
“Teach me!” He sprang to his feet, running over to the parkour course.
“Let’s start off with an easier course and then rank up.. You still aren’t a parkour master yet, are you?” The man said pointing at his chain boots.
Seawatt deflated, a little embarrassed with himself. He should have done the course to rank up a while ago, he just didn’t want to leave the comfort of this layer yet. “I’ll do it soon..” he grumbled, kicking the floor. “Will you still train me even if I become a parkour master?”
The man smiled. “We’ll see. Maybe one day you’ll even surpass me.”
“That’s impossible. You’re the best person I’ve ever seen parkour! I don’t get why you’re not the parkour champion.”
“I’m flattered, I truly am..” the man looked off into the distance as if he was remembering something. Seawatt stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt him.
“ClownPierce.”
“What?”
“That’s my name.” And without another word, the man— ClownPierce had left.
He didn’t see ClownPierce for nearly a month after that. He must have been busy, it wasn’t like he was going to keep training him forever. It was a little sad, but he kept focusing on ranking up. His parents had been urging him more and more lately to rank up, and he really had been setting it off for too long.
The day he was going to attempt the course, he was doing a few brewing stand jumps for the added effects when ClownPierce waved him down.
Seawatt got off of the brewing stand and made his way over to him quickly.
He wasn’t expecting such a serious expression on his face when he came to his side. “This might be the last time we see each other.” ClownPierce muttered.
“What? So you’re not going to train me anymore?” His heart broke a little, saddened by the fact the person he considered his mentor for the past two years was suddenly ditching him. Was he not good enough?
“The old man is up to something… I don’t have much time left.”
The more ClownPierce said, the more confused he became. “What’s happening? Can’t you tell me?”
“No. This is a matter between myself and him. This is a warning, do not trust the old man.” He said sternly. “Good luck on ranking up… I sincerely hope you do.”
“Wait!” But by the time he was reaching out for him, ClownPierce was already gone. Dread dug deep into his gut. Was today the right day to rank up..? No, he had to.
Determination slowly replaced his sense of worry as he climbed and climbed up the course. It was difficult, he was expecting nothing less, but step by step and jump by jump he had made it to the top.
Freeing himself from his chain boots, he donned his gold ones, accomplished with himself. This was a new level, he was excited to see what this world would look like.
Just as he stepped out of the course room, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. He keeled over, retching. Something felt wrong, very, very, wrong. Like the world had shifted without him.
He tried to keep himself steady but his head was spinning too fast to make sense of everything. He felt uncomfortable. Something big had happened but he wasn’t sure what it was.
He clutched at his head. It felt like something was trying to rip itself out of his skull. It wanted to take, it wanted him to forget.
Forget what? A level. What level? His home. What was home? It was where the parkour pros were. No, that didn’t make sense. There was another level… Another… Another…
He squeezed his eyes shut trying to keep his memories close to him. His mother, his father, his mentor. Who was his mentor? A jester.. a clown. Red, white, black. Parkour race. Rebuilding civilization.
He wasn’t sure anymore. He couldn’t think straight. What was real? What was fake? The only thing he knew for sure was that the world had shifted drastically.
Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he collapsed on the platform, too many thoughts running through his head. What happened to his home? His parents?.. His mentor?
When he awoke, he was in an unfamiliar house.
“Oh. You’re finally awake.” A deep voice spoke to him.
Seawatt turned his head to see a man dressed in fully black clothing and pupiless white eyes. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my house. You were passed out outside of the place you rank up at.” He shrugged.
“…Thanks… Whatever your name is.”
“I don’t really have a name.” The master shrugged.
“Oh.” Seawatt stared blankly at him. “I’m Seawatt.”
“Cool.”
They were both silent for a while, unsure of where to take the conversation. In all honesty, all Seawatt wanted to do was sleep some more, but he felt weird about sleeping in a strangers bed even if he was saved by him.
“How was life… as a pro?” The parkour master coughed, breaking the silence.
Seawatt looked at him strangely. “Pro? I was never a pro.” Surely he had to know that the level before master was fighter. There was no way a pro could immediately become a master. “I was a parkour fighter.”
“Did you hit your head when you ranked up? What is a parkour fighter?” The master looked at him strangely, as if he was an alien.
“Parkour fighters.. the people below parkour masters.”
The master shook his head. “Oh you definitely hit your head. There’s no such thing as a parkour fighter.”
The pieces were slowly coming together. Seawatt threw the covers off of himself and pushed past the master. He needed to check if what he was thinking had actually happened.
He could hear the master calling after him but he ignored him in favour of launching himself out of the door and dropping to his knees, staring down at the lower level.
Grass.
That wasn’t right. Where was the sandstone he grew up with? Where were the four areas made up of different materials to challenge the fighters? It was as if it never existed in the first place.
The pieces clicked together. The puzzle was complete. The old man.. the champion had deleted the layer. He had deleted his home, and the memories of its existence.
His mentor.. he was still on the layer when he last saw him. He never saw him leave.
Everyone he ever cared for was there, and now they were gone. There was no bringing them back. The champion, that selfish bastard. He knew he would never listen to someone like himself no matter how hard he tried to convince him. He had deleted an entire level for a reason unknown, and would not bring it back. His parents were right. His mentor was right. The champion wasn’t someone to be trusted.
He dug his hands into the grass block he was on and screamed. “Damn it… DAMN IT! Why did this have to happen? Why, why, WHY?” Grief sunk itself deep into his heart, tearing it to pieces. Why did he have to rank up today of all days? Why couldn’t he have waited? At least then he knew he would be with the people he loved.
He was alone, carrying the memories of a layer sealed away. He squeezed his eyes shut, punching the grass block he was on over and over again. The pain didn’t hurt, in fact it was welcoming.
He had never felt lonelier.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he was too exhausted to keep them from falling.
He screamed at everything and nothing until his voice went hoarse and until his fists were bruised and bloodied. His tears had run dry, leaving him clutching fistfuls of the earth in his hands.
Laying in the dirt, he remembered one conversation he had with ClownPierce, the last time he saw him when training. A parkour race. That was the way to bring about change to parkour civilization.
Strengthening his resolve, he slowly stood up. He was going to bring back his layer, and everyone on it no matter the cost. If he had to resort to violence, he’d do it. If he had to destroy parkour civilization, he’d do it.
Change was going to come, and he would be the center of it all.