Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Oddities of the Overworld, endless works to be made and so many resources to discover upon these lush fields made of blocky dirt and trees. Unless you are the man who arrived from a realm made of diamonds with a sentient chest who both always adores the occasional mischief.

“Chester, run!” Shouted out the blue man as he sprinted through a mineshaft, the cavern shaking and rumbling away as dust began to rain and few boulders fell, “Run, buddy, run!”

Jumping over a few broken mineshaft pillars, the man kept moving, coughing and panting as he tossed his pickaxe aside while the jumping chest hopped behind with its derpy tongue falling out. The man could only keep sprinting, temporarily looking at his hotbar to drop things he didn't need or were weighing him down a bit.

Laughing a bit, the man sprinted towards what he saw as a large pit with a stable enough platform ahead. “Chester, I’m gonna need you to jump with me ahead!” Yelled the man once more, his shoes clicking harder against the rotting and wooden floor, the sound of his chest friend stomping right behind, “Ready!? Jump!”

Taking a large jump, the man smiled gleefully as he thought about his cool escape, only to slowly realize his calculation was rather off, by a block or two. “Oh no… Oh no!” Screamed the man as he began to wail his arms around, watching Chester make the jump with his tongue flailing happily, “That was a lucky shot!” The man merely stopped his arm dance and simply crossed them as he fell freely to the cavern's floor with a very loud and laughable crunching sound.

Looking over the platform edge, Chester could only see the man laying with his tools and some resources floating idly beside him, even noting how his human friend missed the lush river by just an inch. Even as the sentient chest cringed at the sight, it did happily bark as he heard a groan from the man along with a weak and pathetic request, “Go get Jeremy, buddy… I’m at half a heart…”

Carrying a rather heavy man into the enormous village, Chester huffed loudly as he tossed his friend over to the village's somehow useful nitwit: Jeremy.

“Oh great Notch Apples!” Hollered the villager as he knelt down to the groaning man, “Craftee are you okay!?” The man, now revealed as Craftee, could only look up and stare at his Villager friend with such a concerned and flabbergasted look.

“Jeremy, I’m at half a heart and Chester had to carry me here… Does it look like I’m okay, Jeremy?” Spatted the injured man as he slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position, rather annoyed at his whole body being in pain and possibly having a couple ribs cracked.

“Well gee,” Began the large nosed friend, “I guess I won’t give you this healing potion for free anymore.” The villager smirked as he began to walk away with a potion in his hands.

“Alright, alright. Name your price,” Stated Craftee as he stood up, huffing at his pain before raising his hand to the turning villager, “That doesn’t involve Chester or me giving up the Tardis.”

“No, I just want a block of dirt.” Smiled Jeremy with a stupid triumphed look, to which Craftee just shook his head and tossed a singular block of dirt at the man.

“There, now give me the healing potion.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he caught the potion, realizing rather quickly of the contents it truly had.

Raising the potion up to Jeremy’s eye level, the man who had fallen a couple blocks merely spoke with annoyance, “Jeremy, this is a bottle of honey, not a healing potion.”

The villager only smiled innocently as he played with the dirt in his hands, nodding happily as he responded, “I know! That’s the best healing potion you can get from good old me!” Chuckling as he left, Craftee could only stare, contemplating on if he should throw the honey bottle at his bald head or struggle to find a proper cleric.

Deciding peace, the man sighed and walked the other way, sipping a bit of the honey as he muttered to himself, “Thank you for nothing… You useless Villager.” Gazing at his worried chest friend, he simply smiled a bit as he patted the chest’s head, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it to Skip’s before he closes his library. Hopefully he’s not busy with Observer’s shenanigans again.” The chest’s eyes softened as it nudged its head under the man’s hand once more, this time to support him as they made their way to a beautifully decorated library near the village's center.

Now at the library, Craftee knocked loudly enough to see a blonde haired man whip his head around quickly and immediately drop the books in his hand as he shouted with concern, “Craftee! The heck happened to you!?”

Leaping over his counter, the man sprinted up to Craftee and cupped his face as he examined his pupils and even some bruising on the poor man's face. Taking a worried breath, the man turned his head to a floating observer block which seemed to have noticed the commotion from a broken bookshelf.

“Observer, get some healing potions and some double strength, quickly!” Paced the man as his head turned back to the injured man, “Tell me who or what did this? How are you alive? You’re clearly at half a heart, how did you manage this again!?”

Sighing softly and chuckling, Craftee placed his hands on the wrists of the worried blonde, “Skip, relax. I’m somewhat still alive, aren’t I? I was getting some spare copper for the Tardis and didn’t realize how unstable the old mine shafts were.” The brunette cleared his throat as he gently scratched his dirty cheek, clearly embarrassed with having to explain, “I ended up miscalculating the jump and only Chester made it while I fell onto the deepslate.”

As the diamond man spoke, his chest pal merely barked with what sounded as smug amusement causing the two men to turn just as Observer arrived with a crate full of healing and strength potions.

Stifling a laugh, Skip looked back at Craftee as he pushed up his glasses, “And you managed to miss the Lush Cave’s river too?”

Craftee blushed mildly as he quickly snatched and chugged a healing potion, the effects seemed quite rapid and effective as he stumbled a bit while grasping at his chest and coughing while his friends watched in amazement at the bruises and injuries faded away speedily. Continuing his coughing, the man groaned in discomfort before standing up again and setting the empty bottle on the nearby counter.

“It’s still uncomfortable to heal…” Complained the brunette as he wiped his lips and gently grabbed the strength potion that Observer offered him, “But yeah, I did miss the river by an inch or two… I was kinda focused on potentially respawning again as Chester watched me from the platform.” The sentient chest could only bark with smugness, earning a small look from Craftee, “Hey, it’s not fair when you can just land perfectly while I miss the edge by, like… A block or two.”

The chest barked again before gently nudging the leg of his friend, as he drank the strength potion, earning a soft giggle from both Skip and the floating Observer.

“You two always seemed close, how’d that happen?” Asked the blonde as he returned back to the broken shelf, picking up the pile of books he had before said man of diamonds walked in, “Like, what is the origin of your story or did you two just spawn in together?”

Leaning against the beautifully marbled counter, Craftee seemed to sigh as he reminisced happily, “Well… I had gotten my hands on some diamond chest seeds and started planting-” Turning with a confused look, Skip went to ask but was quickly cut off by a further explanation, “Had found an area that gave me custom diamond seeds, a village had custom chest diamond seeds. Anyway, I started planting the seeds, and used them to make a chest chestplate with the chest diamonds from the chest diamond seeds.”

Giving a look of concern, Skip set the books on the counter as he asked, “Was that whole “chest chest chest” thing necessary?” Craftee simply nodded with a sly grin.

“Absolutely. Now, after I made the chest chestplate, I put that bad boy on and Chester here…” Gestured the brunette as the lively chest barked, “Just spawned in, and we have been close friends since then! I still have the bite mark on my leg from when he bit me at first, wanna see?” Skip quickly shook his head as he raised his hands up to stop the man, clearly in the process of eagerly pulling up his pant leg.

“Craftee, no!” Exclaimed the blonde, causing the young man before him to stop pulling at the fabric, “Sorry, I just… I rather not see the scar that Chester left on you. Last time you came in with a couple arrows in your arm and back…”

The brunette smiled as he reminisced about that horrific time, “Ah right. I remember it like it was yesterday… Had finished fighting some Pillagers for a custom heart, it was a pretty cool one too! And the Pillager outpost? Whew, man did it have a nice goat horn and was so pretty when I blew it up…” Craftee simply clasped his hands before sighing happily, leading to a rather awkward and concerned stare shared between Skip, Observer, and even the walking chest.

Although worried at such display to a very physically painful memory, Observer could only shake his head before hovering away to a different area of the library. Poor Observer, never did like the weirdness of the diamond man, but still dealt with one of Skip’s friend named Dan for some reason, he worked in mysterious ways that even left Skip questioning.

“Hey! Observer, don’t just leave!” Shouted after the blonde as he adjusted his glasses, taking a couple steps forward before a hand tugged at his sleeve. Gazing over at the delicate yet rough hand, he trailed his gaze up to Craftee.

“Let him leave, he might want some bread. Or maybe those edible diamonds I sent you two through the mail.” Smiled the brunette as his blue eyes glistened against the lighting of the library’s copper lamp. Skip could only sigh as a gentle smile crossed his face, he always seemed to soften against the man before him. Skip never understood the oddity of that, how a man of tutorials and nerdy knowledge of the world of Minecraft came to soften and even feel all mushy inside when it came to this very chaotic and talkative man.

Having stared for too long, Craftee began to blush a bit, the faint blue hue dressing over his pale like skin and upon noticing, Skip blushed brightly as he quickly pulled his hand against his chest, wondering how long this staring contest went on for.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Stuttered out the brunette, clearing his throat as he avoided his gaze, the faint blush still there against his face.

“Oh. No, no, no. It’s fine! I was the one staring for a little longer!” Stammered the blonde, flailing his hands a bit as he then began to fidget with the tips of his fingertips, almost picking at nothing. “Sorry, I uhm… It was nice seeing you in the village again, Craftee.” With an awkward smile, he extended his hand out.

Craftee stared at the hand before chuckling and proceeding to shake Skip’s hand. “Alright, alright. It was nice seeing you again too.” Letting go of the hand, the man seemed to feel a bit saddened at the touch having ended, though he mentally shook his head as he proceeded to ask, “Right, uhm, do I have any mail today? I’m kinda expecting a Magical Puffin.”

“Sorry, a what?”

“A Magical Puffin. It’s a Puffin plush, but with a cool magic hat. Used the All Seeing Pickle.”

Skip merely nodded his head, pretending to understand as his mouth hung a bit open, trying not to say anything other than, “Uh-huh…”

“What? Is it the Puffin or the Pickle? Because the pickle helped me find the useless Puffin.” The man sighed as he leaned against the counter once more with a huff at the memory of spending hours and endless respawns just to find the all legendary “Mcguffin” only for it to be a Puffin bird plush with a kinda cute wizard hat. “Stupid adventure…”

Skip shook his head with a giggle before taking out a lightly tanned envelope with a roman sigil. “Well, that didn’t come in, but this did. A letter from some…” The blonde adjusted his glasses as he read the letter’s sender, only to widen them as he looked up at the diamond man, “LegionVee of the Roman Island?! How are you getting letters from an ancient Roman man!?”

Craftee just shrugged as he grabbed the letter from Skip’s hands, their fingers gently brushing against each other before the brunette ripped open the envelope, “He kind of walked into my Tardis when I had to fix the timeline and then wanted to stay here since we are more advanced in tools and even agriculture. He did call our architecture tacky and lacking beauty. Which I didn’t mind, our builds do look too sleek and gray.”

Skip gave an offended look as he raised his hands up in disbelief and annoyance, “I like the look, it feels very modern and kinda rich.”

Craftee chuckled as he kept reading the letter, “Yeah, if you’re actually a Millionaire or billionaire.”

“Says the man who came from the diamond dimension, AND has continuously gotten a ton more diamonds for fun.”

“Just say you envy my net worth, Skip, just say you envy it.” Smirked the man as he looked up from the letter, enjoying the furrowed face Skip had gained after mentioning the wealth of the brunette. “Anyway, I’m off on another adventure to a new server. Going to Rome and this time, I won’t get shot at by skelly boys.”

“I’m sending you with a ton of health potions and golden carrots.” Skip muttered as he grabbed a shulker box and began filling it with both potions and golden dipped carrots.

“Aw, thank you, Skippy boy.” Switching his attention, Craftee smiled at Chester with excitement, “You ready to go to Rome, buddy? Are you?” As a response, Chester just burped as he coughed out some diamond blocks. Craftee nodded with a confused stare as he gently patted the happy chest’s head, “I’ll take that as a yes, Chester.”

Chapter Text

Opening his inventory panel, Craftee could only sigh loudly, realizing a mild miscalculation and forgotten items that were left behind as always. Hearing soft laughter, the brunette couldn’t help but close his inventory and catch a long glance at two men on the ship.

“Dan, put the staff down! We don’t know what it does!” Shouted a black man as he hurried to a paste white man in an oddly long white hat, quickly ripping away a wooden staff from his hands, “Don’t just touch things, most of this stuff is Craftee’s and even he doesn’t know what it does!” Shaking his head, the man huffed as he placed the staff back in its crate and shut it. “How in the Nether did you even open this without a pickaxe or an axe?”

Shrugging with a smile, the other man, Dan, just placed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he leaned against another crate, “It wasn’t nailed shut. Besides, it’s not like we know how to activate them, so they won’t be a problem. Relax, Jay.”

“Relax? Dan, what if you accidentally turned it on and you blew up the ship?!” Spoke Jay, the black man as he flailed hands up, yet he was given a simple shrug. The more frantic man merely huffed and walked away, “Just don’t blow up or burn the ship down, Dan!” The blonde simply smiled as he began to walk towards a different area of the ship with far more crates.

Chuckling to himself, Craftee walked over to the ship’s mast, beginning to close his eyes as the breeze grazed his face, he was always one for adventure even if it included friends on the journey. The air filled with the scent of salt and fish like life was calming and kind, the ocean gently rumbling and humming as he felt the small bumps of the ocean waving under the ship. Hearing a small bark from his chest friend, Craftee looked down and smiled softly as he patted the creature.

“Enjoying the voyage, Chester?” He asked as he looked up at Jay and Dan discussing something, “Seems like they’re having fun, if you can call arguing over my treasure fun.” Earning another bark from his friend, Craftee chuckled and sighed, slouching a bit against the wooden pillar that held such a blue sail, “Hopefully Legion is safe, his letter did look urgent and… It seems like his city might be in danger…”

Suddenly a loud thud was heard as the ship rocked, launching Craftee and the rest of the crew to the floor.

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t touch any of the crates this time!” Exclaimed Dan as he sat up quickly and held onto a taught rope.

“No duh, it wasn’t you, Dan!” Exclaimed Jay as he stood up and looked at the tilted and scattered over crates, “Something rocked the ship… Massive thing too since these crates are heavy.” Turning his attention towards the diamond man rising to his feet, he questioned, “Any idea, Mr. Adventurer? Whale, sharks, some weird bird thing?”

Shaking his head, Craftee simply spoke, “No idea, could have been a whale or we hit some rocks knowing Jeremy’s steering.”

“Captain!” Yelled out the villager at the ship's wheel, his eyes wide with fear and shock, “Dragon Kraken ahead!”

Running to the ships front, blood running cold in his hands as he gripped the edge with vicious fear, the man couldn’t believe the creature in front of him, this giant sea monster with the head of a dragon. Whipping his head around to see a shaking and trembling Dan and Jay, he looked up at Jeremy and yelled out, “Steer us away, Jeremy! Make sure it can’t hit the ship again!”

Sprinting to a crate with urgency, the man ripped the top off a crate and began to dig around as he muttered under his breath, “Come on, come on, it has to be here somewhere.”

Barking away as he hopped over to Jay and Dan, the little chest began to pull at their sleeves in the effort to begin aid in searching for weapons.

“On it, Chester.” Exclaimed Dan as he ran and slid to a crate and began ripping through the hay, searching for any and all weapons, “There’s only Nerf guns in here, Craftee!”

“Keep searching, Dan! Jay, help Jeremy steer us away!” Yelled Craftee, his eyes now filled with determination and concern for his friends, “Chester, make sure you don’t get near the ships sides!”

Jay yelled out in affirmation as he ran up the steps to the wheel, panting as he helped the villager turn the wheel with cold and calculated strength.

This was no longer a trip through simple waters, it became a dangerous act of needing to survive, one that never excluded the brunette as he pulled out a trident. A soft whistle escaped his lips as he admired the weapon of the many seas — He always admired the simplicity yet power weapons hold, especially one meant to damage sea creatures of grand ambitions.

Sprinting past some crates and lunging over many more, cold and brown eyes were fixated on this beast that charged in the waters. Rapid steps began to become louder, burning away with hurried anger and strong ambition, slowly creating small cracks in the crates before the loud growl of a man was heard, followed by the thunderous crack of darkened clouds and lightning.

Yet these efforts became unyielding to the sea beast… It hollered in pain for a few moments before whipping its tail towards the man who chose to heave the weapon of Poseidon at its eye. Curling in and out, striking away at Craftee’s chest.

A loud gasp escaped his lips and the following scream of agony as his back struck the wooden mast of the ship. Coughing and gasping for air, the brunette’s vision blurred momentarily as he adjusted himself to look at Dan, his exclamation for safety and concern left muffled by the injured man's condition.

“Shit…” Huffed out Dan as he looked over to the two manning the ship's wheel, “Jay! Craftee is down! The sea monster smacked him!”

With a loud groan as the black man managed to keep hold of the wheel, he rang out a moment of sarcasm, “Really!? I hadn’t noticed him hitting the damn mast! Dan, forget the weapon and get Craftee!”

Bolting as fast as he could, the blonde vaulted over the crate, allowing the lid to drop with a loud thud.

Gaining some strength, Craftee pushed himself up and leaned his body weight against the mast he struck once. Everything still felt painful, his chest screamed in thumping agony as his breath wheezed out softly yet loudly enough. Checking his forearm, he noted his health had fallen down to a few hearts and his hunger bar stocked at just 5 bars.

“Not enough to heal, dammit…” Thought the brunette before his attention jerked up towards the muffled yells of the blonde running towards him. The frantic hand movement to the side seemed unreal, confusing, and beyond adrenaline filling. He believed for a moment that his crewmate and friend had lost it or he was charging at him with some plan, yet it was not what he expected as he halted in his steps, faltering in balance as he fell onto his bottom.

A sensation ran through Craftee, he felt his pulse slow to ease, the sounds around him no longer muffled, and yet — he felt sharpened pain and a cooling sensation ran through his body. Looking down at the beginning of where the sense was, his eyes widened — pupils shaking as he watched his own trident pierced into his shoulder and chest, the brunette merely coughed, blood lightly painting his chin and lip.

“Oh, that's not good.” Joked the man as he gave a small chuckle, “That’s actually kinda bad. It kinda tickles my ribs…” Huffing softly, his gazed turned to his chest buddy and the blonde who covered his mouth in horror.

Head dropping, Craftee exhaled a raspy breath before going limp, his body rapidly and oddly wasting, rotting, expiring away until the skeleton left simply crumbled away.

Jay let out a loud and vicious scream as he aimed the vessel towards the Dragon Kraken, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t care anymore, he felt hatred and deemed the ship to be the easiest weapon to pierce the sea monster.

“Jay, no!” Cried out the blonde as he stumbled to his feet and held onto a crate with a fearful grasp, “We need to turn back! We’ll get Craftee back at Spawn! Please, you are acting on impulse!”

“He killed Parker, I am not letting that slide!” Shouted the man as he leaned closer, forward onto the wheel, wanting the ship to move faster.

“I would!” Called out a voice as it ripped the trident out of the wooden mass, almost as if making jokes was so simple, “It does have great aim, I will say that.”

“Parker…?” Stammered out the blonde as his gaze ran down to the figure adorned in a set of pale blue overalls, the blood still fresh looking and uncovering a now etched scar into the man’s torso.

“Just say Craftee, we’re on an adventure.” The man took some steps, trident roughly dragging behind him before coming to a halt in front of the sentient chest, kneeling and giving a comforting touch, Craftee simply smiled as he assured his chest friend, “Hey little dude, I’m back, so don’t worry, okay?” Chester could only hum softly as he nudged into the touch of his friend.

Taking rise once more, the brunette heaved the trident as he steps quickened, once again running towards the ships still sailing front.

“Cut the sail, Jay! NOW!” Exclaimed the man as the sound of the sails pulled up to allow a slow to the ship, this had become an advantage, a great advantage to abuse with a powerful weapon.

“Taste my trident, you big nerd!” With that final shout, the trident left his hand, finger tips grazing the brazen texture of the haft — the brown cloth that dared to cling on so easily unfolding mildly in the air. Thunder cracked once more, clouds bellowing out sparks of light and anger as the weapon pierced the sea creature a final time, angered by the sheer act and roaring.

Staring with a newfound bit of irritation, the brunette huffed a bit as he gritted his teeth, “I said to taste the trident, not to keep living.”

Lightning continued to strike, now targeting closer to the sea creature… Moments lasted for a few until the cracks whipped away at the sea creature — each strand of electricity snapping away at the scales of the monster, gripping and tearing away as they fried too, all the beast of the sea could do is roar aimlessly as its tail thrashed and smashed against the seas currents.

“Craftee…?” Pondered out Dan as he gained his balance and switched his gaze between the man and the sea creature, finally landing on the man, “Where did you get that Trident?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Cooled out the brunette as he watched the beast’s eyes falter to a pale hue before sinking down, the thunder and lightning slowing to a cold and threatening halt. With a swift rising movement of his arm, the trident ripped through the water depths and air as it charged into the hand of Craftee’s. Gazing a bit at the trident, the small usage visible under the sea monster's blood, Craftee sighed as he dug it into the ships flooring before walking to the ships quarters. Yet he paused, leaning against the doorframe and gazing back at Dan — yet his small smile didn’t reach his eyes as he spoke,  “Short version, I fought some mobs and bosses to get it, not as strong or useful or other things.”

Looking up at his friend, Dan choked out a soft, “You think he’s okay? You know, after his respawn?”

Jay merely shook his head as he and the villager shared a pity gaze, “I don’t know, let’s hope he returns all upbeat and cheerful.”

Chapter Text

Fresh air — born from the acts of trees and common plant life as the scent of dates, grapes, and even strawberries filled away, what felt like a journey for many months turned to be a simple days trip across rugged sea, unlike a certain Greek man.

The ship's board creaked as gentle thuds paced over it, some cautious, others jumping happily, and one set with kindness and duality of man in the pace. Before the group of adventurers and Jeremy laid a beautiful pathway as a chariot stood still.

Two pairs of glowing eyes pierced through the red veil, smiling kindly as bits of gold leaves sat on the head of this figure, “Greetings, Diamond Traveler.” The voice was kind, soothing, gentle yet a bit bitter like wine. Enough could be said by this tone, one that had told stories in kindling care while tearing armies by the limbs with sheer force of tactical and honorable skills.

Smirking, Craftee waved a bit as he stepped closer to the Chariot, “Sup, Vee. Been a few months, how’s the island?”

Swiftness could only claim as the veil ripped away and a smiling Roman Legionary appeared before him, his eyes delighted to see the brunette as he spoke, “The kingdom is thriving, faster than I have ever seen with the modern technology.”

“Welcome to modern day, Rome buddy. Now, about that letter. What’s going on?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, the roman man could only give a quick glance at the crew before averting his eyes back to the brunette as he leaned close and spoke softly, his tone dipped in some bitterness and gentle hate, “Private conversation, I rather the citizens not know about any troubles this major.” Craftee nodded a bit before whistling to his crew to come closer, his smile greeting them as did his eyes.

“Hey, ya’ll wanna explore the town square a bit while Chester and I head to the…. The uhm…” The brunette stuttered out as he snapped his fingers to apparently remember the word before looking at the Legionary man, “What’s your town hall thing called?”

“The Basilica?" Cleared out LegionVee as he adjusted his Laurel Wreath, the gold reflecting bits of its battle works and glares of the sun.

Gesturing to the roman man, Craftee simply spat out in neutral joy, “That. We’re going to that, so… Explore, have fun, and don’t let anyone know why we’re here, alright?” The crew nodded before a finger was jabbed at the villagers nose, “Especially you, Jeremy. Zip it and try not to get in trouble.”

With that, the crew departed as Chester hopped happily to the chariot, soon being followed by the diamond man and the roman legionary. Both of their eyes narrowing a bit as they enter the vehicle and draw the veil to a close. The legionary merely nodded and knocked on the beautifully detailed and varnished frame to announce for their ride to the basilica.

“Pray tell, Mister…. Coppins, if I may?” Gestured the man as he readjusted his linen cloak, the gentle and darkened red telling small feats of victory and ancient tales, “How long do you plan to keep the mantle? This hero who has played the hero for many years?”

“Until I lose my final respawn.” Cooled out the brunette as he looked down at his hand, peppered in small scars and even some bigger ones, “I met my future self and ended up deleting that timeline since I was evil and got bored there but… That wasn’t me. I may be Parker but I see myself more as Craftee. I am a hero, a clumsy one but still a hero.”

“You hold so much wisdom for a young man, how is it that you continue this path? What reason do you have to owe these people the luxury of your heroism?” Softened the Legionary as he slowly removed his laurel and looked at Chester then returned his gaze to the other man, “Craftee, why are you a hero?”

“It helps people, I get to see people get help and smile after they are safe.” Began the brunette as he glanced out the sliver the veil allowed to the exterior, “I like helping people, I grew up in a dimension where that was never really seen to be in danger and when I got the chance to visit a different realm… I saw how Villagers and other Players were treated here, almost as if conquering is the solution.”

“Bold to say that when you’re talking to a legionary.”

A gentle scoff left the brunette’s lips, “There’s a difference with you and Pillagers. You don’t pillage and murder, you just… You’re diplomatic and rather do peace and defend than kill just for land. But continuing on, I just… I saw how Pillagers and mobs just took away a lot from Villagers and saw some Players die to these mobs. So I decided to stay in the Overworld and help around, being a hero just happened along the way and now I own so many treasures and things I don’t really care about. I’m the richest man and I still decide to keep thriving and living because I don’t care about money.”

“A man so rich, he only cares about being a hero? How selfless and kind.” Smiled the man, his vibrant eyes shining like emeralds as if he found gold amongst rubble.

“Haha, I know, it sounds dumb and very cringe. But I only really care about my friends and helping around. I feel like I keep repeating that, am I repeating that?" Questioned Craftee as he earned a nod from the legionary, earning a sigh of annoyance and sliding his palms down his face, “Of course I did… Sounds like I’m lying or trying to convince myself that it's true.”

“You seem very happy with being a helper and town hero, Craftee. A traveler who helps and even chooses to fight deities if it means keeping people safe. Yet, I know the real you, Craftee. Would you like for me to explain what I know?” Gestured the man as he offered a smile of kindness.

Looking back at the Roman, Craftee simply nodded to allow forth the explanation.

“I see a young man who only knows to help, even if clumsy or weird, and never lets his failures rid him of his courage. You, Craftee, are more than your title and more than your tailored attire. You hold the scars of many deaths and sacrifices that were used to save friends, to keep villages safe.” Narrowing his gaze, the man kept going, “A heart made of diamond, stronger than any kindness I ever met in my life. Wisdom is what you hold, unconventional but still wisdom. Craftee, you are a man who comes and goes to help when he is needed, even if that means getting asked to help a cat down a tree or running errands for that librarian you admire a lot.”

“How do you know about him? The librarian I know.”

“You talked a lot about him while we were in the time machine. You spoke fondly and seemed enamored by the man.” Spoke out the Legionary as he smiled, “Now, back to the subject. You’re a hero, that is clear. You are more than just the mantle of the title you hold, for what reason?”

“Because someone has to be Craftee, has to be the hero, and has to be selfless enough to keep that title.” Fogged out the brunette, his eyes adjusting between his chest buddy and the regal man, “I rather die as a hero who did everything to keep many safe, helped, and eventually die in the means of being that hero for everyone. Make heroism fun yet impactful.”

“Wise and bold, courage fills you well.” Hummed the man as he peeked through the veil, noting his beautiful city, the endless life and sound that came from the roman-like streets, “Alright then, hero. Let me bring you up to speed on the danger that wishes to clear my land. It is a group of these rugged and dangerous foes, they want to dismantle my island and its government by any means necessary. I have no idea how they made it to the island but they did.”

“Why do they want to dismantle your stuff?”

“For merely existing, it seems. The first attack was almost an execution with a trident. It had something engraved on it but we haven’t been able to decipher the thing, it’s too damaged and scratched to be made out.” Reapplying his Laurel, LegionVee huffed as he felt the chariot come to a halt and a simple thud rang through the wood near his head. “We’re here. Come along, we can discuss this further inside.”

Stepping out of the Chariot and pacing towards the beautifully massive building, both men adjusted their attire before continuing pace. To Craftee, this building was beyond impressive and held so many secrets or even plannings, each engraving of the symbols and pillars was absolutely radiant. Masterpieces riddled up and towards what seemed to be the rooftops, and yet, his attention was caught by the flick of something moving.

“Odd, that looked like someone. Maybe a bird but still life.” Pondered the brunette as he followed the Legionary into the Basilica, his attention returning to the pressing matter.

“So,” Began the man, “How do you know this group wants to dismantle your government? Cause, that’s a big assumption, especially since you run a sort of democracy.”

Removing his cloak and setting it aside, the Legionary sighed as his lips tightened, “We run a Republic, not a democracy. There’s a difference but… To answer your question, take a look at the table.” Gesturing with narrowing eyes, there laid a pile of papers and torn posters.

Taking steps towards this table, Craftee picked the first one up and stared for a while. Crude drawings of LegionVee with a line of red crossing through his neck and the giant letters that read, “No Kings, No Government”. A soft giggle escaped his lips as he looked up at the stoic Roman before looking through more of the posters and papers. One by one, they only spoke of removing LegionVee and ridding of the government that seemingly did not affect his people badly.

“They really hate governments, and you for just being the leader…” Muttered the diamond man as he set down the paper that still had some drying in. Wiping his hand, the man continued, “Vee, do you know what this group is called or are they just like… Some random group of Griefer’s?”

Silence followed, loud enough to grant access to their breaths as the legionary inhaled before speaking, his voice thick with bitterness and fear as he spoke the name.

“The Voices…” Shuddered out the ruler as his jaw tightened and his gaze averted to a painting.

Eyes widening, Craftee’s throat tightened as he seemed to choke on his own breath. Clenching his fists, he slowly looked back at the papers and posters, his mind raising as he felt his body move with silenced reason. Hands moving swiftly and with oddity, the brunette began to huff softly as the sheets of this group's work was re-scattered. Minutes passed and Craftee stepped back as his breathing hitched. The random ink stains and markings were merely a puzzle he discovered. The image of a hog with long hair displayed across these papers on the table.

“The Voices of Technoblade…” Faltered out Craftee as the muffled whistle of fireworks played outside the walls, followed by screams and calls for aid.

Chapter Text

Rushing out of the Basilica, Craftee and LegionVee made it to the pillar entrance as they watched the city before them. Their breath clogged in their throats as their eyes glistened with newfound horror and worry.

Almost immediately they acknowledged the buildings on fire as cloaked figures fired crossbows armed with fireworks, streets flooding with endless hollering and the clanking of chainmail with the stomps of horses charging. The smoke… The amount of smoke was large and left far more sinister intentions than what they could imagine.

“My people…” Muttered out LegionVee as he immediately ducked behind the pillar, his eyes still wide from the sight before him.

Following in suit, Craftee hid behind the pillar as a firework whizzed past him, missing quickly yet too closely. Heart racing, he began to open his inventory panel, frantically looking through what items he held on him.

“Legion, what weapons you got on you?” Questioned the brunette as he quickly gazed at the still stunned Legionary. Furrowing his eyebrows, he raised his voice to catch the attention of the other player, “Legion! Weapons! We can’t stand here while they burn your island!”

Shaking his head and opening his inventory, the legionary scanned before raising his head to shout, “My Netherite sword, shield, and a bow with infinity! Some copper ingots and a single Blaze rod! You?!”

Cursing under his breath, the brunette spoke, “Diamond sword, iron axe, a ton of arrows, a single piece of redstone and half a stack of smoke TNTs…” Gently leaning his head back against the cool pillar, Craftee felt a small pull at his pants. Looking down, he noticed something in Chester’s mouth. “What’s this?” Talking the item from the hopping chest, an idea formed quickly as his eyes darted at LegionVee. “Legion! Toss me the copper ingots and that Blaze  rod! Oh, and that bow!”

Stuttering in his actions, Legion managed to toss the items requested as he tried his best not to be hit by any stray fireworks or even arrows. “Craftee! What is the plan!?” Called out the legionary as he took out his shield and sword, striking down a charging figure in an instance, “Because now they’re charging!”

“Chester, buddy, attack while I craft!” Ordered the man, watching the happy chest growl and begin his execution. Smiling a bit, the brunette continued his crafting as he shouted his plan, “The plan is I build us a wacky and silly weapon like I always do and we don’t die!” Finishing up his craft, the brunette laughed as he lifted the newly made weapon, which happened to look like a gun.

“Taste this, you nerds!” Exclaimed the brunette as he stepped out and began to fire his newly made weapon, arrows littering at high speeds into the cloaked figures, “Ha! And I didn’t even have to test it! Vee, Chester! Come! We gotta find the rest!”

Impaling and ramming a figure against a pillar, LegionVee scoffed as he ripped his blade out of the victim and charged towards the call with the wooden chest following close behind.

As they kept their haste, Craftee began playing with the gun in his hands, muttering endlessly as he gave it a smack, “Come on… You were just working, don’t break now.” Huffing in frustration, he gave the gun another and more heavy handed smack, leading to a gentle beep being heard. The brunette gave a small laugh as he raised the weapon slightly and called out in victory, “Now we’re talking! Chester, you got something I can use? Can be anything, even a structure!”

Eyes widening and a baffled stare, the legionary questioned the man's sanity, “A structure? Craftee, are you insane!? I rather not ruin my island any further!”

“Fine,” Responded the man as he caught a coughed up stack of emeralds, “HHuh, useless currency finally becomes useful. Thanks, Chester.” A bark escaped the sentient chest as the man took aim at some of the cloaked figures and blasting emerald shards into them.

“You function on cartoon logic and it is scary.” Shuddered the Legionary as he shoved a charging figure to the concrete, earning a satisfying gasp for air as he slammed down the blade of his sword into them, “Yet it’s useful and quite amazing.”

“Where is the man who claims to be a king of this place!?” Roared out a voice from above, the distortion clear yet unsettling as it mocked the heroes below them.

Aiming at the figure, Craftee glared as he kept his guard up. This being didn’t seem normal or even fragile in terms of ego or build. Taking a small glance at the Legion whose shield materialized and rose in defense, he felt a bit uneased yet calm enough to think properly.

“Where is LegionVee!?” Thundered the figure once more, earning a roaring and chantiful choir of cloaked figures striking their weapons together as they mocked the sound of hoglins squealing.

Upon a closer attention to the detail of this anarchistic figure, Craftee’s eyes widened at the attire, the cloak, the skull turned mask that focused out two glowing red eyes. This creature of a player was no mere follower, but a treacherous leader of the group that still hollered out as an eerie and war like choir of voices.

“We will not stop until the king’s head is on our platter! His crown will be our prize and his body will be strung to show the people that they are free!” Cackled the figure, their voice echoing as they swung an axe into the building roof, the stone tiles cracking and flying down from the harsh strike, “Down with the government! Down with these Kings and bastard royals! Blood! We demand blood!”

More weapon strikes rang out, now against shields and walls of rubbled homes, growing louder and louder, becoming headaches and raising the beat of the heroes' hearts. And the chants…. Oh, the chanting for blood as some loudly cried in Chinese or squealed like brute Hoglins, the endless rung of either “Blood for the blood god”, Chinese forms of “A thousand battles, a thousand victories”, and the only chant that seemed to matter to the ears of Craftee and LegionVee, “Techblade never dies!”

“Craftee…” Nerved out the Legionary as the hilt of his sword seemed to slip ever so slightly, “You don’t believe that creature to be…?”

“He’s dead.” Stowed out the brunette as he lowered his makeshift launcher and rose to a calmer stance, “That’s not him, that’s someone else trying to be him.” Walking forward, he tossed his weapon aside, allowing it to dematerialize back into his inventory as he switched it out for the soft shine of a diamond blade. “Let’s see if they do actually have some sort of fighting chance.” Swiping his sword through the air, the man shouted towards the figure, “And who are you supposed to be!? The Caped Pig or Oink man?”

Glaring down to the brunette, the figure smirked as they stepped closer to the edge — arms outstretched as a form of dramatic flair as they spoke once more, “Craftee! Pray tell, feeble hero! What brings you to this kingdom of enslaved folk?” The chants continued, now a bit more quiet as the figure still spoke, “Come to finally help us, or keep up the idiocy of playing hero.”

“I’m here to stop you, word got out that you wanted to force your beliefs.” Counter the man with a cocky smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Our belief, dear man, is to allow the people to be free of any government! Choose for themselves and allow themselves to be true even if built in taboo!” Cackled the figure as it twirled in amusement before stepping off the ledge and dropping down in a stylish way to the ground below as the blood stained and worn burnt like cloak flowed through the air, the oddity rang as they seemed unharmed by the height of the fall and even seemed to be smiling manically.

Stepping closer, the figure placed a playful finger at the tip of Craftee’s sword and gently pushed down, the tension growing as the brunette glared down at the figure. All he saw were two beady red eyes as they glowed under the flames that roared near them yet seemed to allow the rest of their skin to hide under the shadows of the Hog skull. The figure chuckled a bit as they tilted their head back a bit, “Look at you! The diamond man who invokes fear into Pillagers!” Beginning to shake from the chuckling, the figure gave a sigh and lean close to the brunette, making small glances at the Legionary and the sentient chest, “How curious though, you can display such fierce and whimsical attitude but before me, you cannot take my presence with the same sheer amount of jokes or sickening cheerful attitude.”

Swiping his sword away, the brunette thrusted his blade forward as it waited mere strands away from the masked figure’s neck, “You can’t be reasoned with jokes. You’re a cheap imitation of an actual legend.” A small scoff escaped the other person’s lips as their eyes rolled before hearing the rest of the brunette’s words, “You’re trying to ruin my friends' perfectly happy and great community.”

Striking the weapon away, the figure seemed to loom over as the sword of the diamond man sank deep into some rubble by the sheer force. With swift and eerie movement, the figure gripped at Craftee’s throat and gave a small squeeze. The sound of voices seemed to hush along with the crackling of the fires as the creature ushered a threat, distortion now less and more of a human like tune, “A kingdom can never be truly happy or great, not when there is a government that imposes rules and needless propaganda. Rome was not built in a day, yet it fell to misery in one. Do tell, you ridiculous and buffoon moron, what reason do you have to protect this so-called Community when it will all fail the moment we salt their fields and slaughter their cattle?”

“Because I can get under your skin even when I’m not joking around,” Taunted the brunette as his hands wrapped around the figure’s wrist, trying to keep some distance. Yet this taunt earned a squeeze at his neck, he choked a bit on air as he attempted to pull back, “Alright, alright! Relax man! It’s… A little hard… To breathe here…”

The hue of the figure's eyes flickered, almost becoming brighter, “You have jokes even in times like this?” Bringing the man closer, their voice returned to a distortion, now gritting their teeth, “You aren’t a hero, Coppins. You are no man that will be remembered, you will be for- GAH!”

Throwing both back, the figure shouted in pain as an arrow flew into their arm, allowing the brunette to fall onto the ground with a rather painful thud and cough out his stability before quickly standing up.

“Fucking harming arrows!” Growled out the figure as they ripped the arrow out, letting a loud and squelching sound play, “Who the hell dares to interrupt?!” Searching around, another arrow flies into their vision yet misses as the figure grabs it mid air, staring at it momentarily with annoyance and slight ridicule before scoffing and full force chucking it into the direction where it came from.

The loud cry of a man appeared, earning a small from the figure as it looked over. There stood an injured blonde man as he gripped at his arm, clearly grazed by the arrow tip but not enough to decommission him.

“Ow! Jay wasn’t kidding when he said these arrows hurt, Craftee!” Hollered Dan as he still gripped at his arm, “It’s like a papercut but hurts more than it should!”

Eyes widening a bit in amusement, the figure hummed as it began to step towards Craftee, now with a bit more life and mad enthusiasm in each step, “Look at that, the hero does have backup, foolish ones, fortunately.” Sensing easement, the figure immediately swung their shield out and guarded themselves from the mocha toned gentlemen’s axe strike. Lowering their shield a bit and giving a smug smile, fangs visible beneath the Hog skull as the figure ripped the axe from Jay’s hands and swiftly tore that same axe from their shield. “What an interesting attempt. Did Craftee teach you or was it that tutorial friend of yours?”

Jay stepped back, fear clear in his shaking hands as the figure taunted him, his axe now in the hands of this being that chose anarchy and a psychotic intimidation.

“The God of Blood calls for us to do his work!” Hollered the figure, their arms raising to the sky, signaling for the weapon drumming and chants to start again, “He heard the voices as we do! We are vessels of this great ancient one! Blood for the Blood God!” Taking a moment to inhale, they looked down at Jay— looming a bit as they let out a distorted and blood churning Hoglin squeal, “Oh Woe to ye! Woe to those foolish enough to grant blindness to this kingdom!” Giving another sigh, her neck snapped towards LegionVee as she chucked the measly iron axe at him, striking just a bit away from his feet as he jumped back in shock.

“Dan, take the shot!” Shouted Craftee as he watched his friend aim at the figure’s head, “Now, Dan, now!”

Silence fell as the sound of the crossbow’s band cracked through the air.

Cloaked figures still bashing their weapons together and chants still crowed above the fires within the city bounds.

Craftee backed up as he watched the figure, looming and now huffing a bit as he glanced between their rattling figure and the piercing arrow tip that dripped blood through the tattered cloak.

“Idiots. All of you.” Croaked the figure as their fingers wrapped around the arrow, groaning in frustration as they ripped it out, taking a good piece of the cloak with it.

Every one of the hero either gagged or stepped back with eyes wide as they witnessed, this figure— No, this Creature had ripped an arrow from their heart area and still stood, taking simple breaths as they tossed the spent arrow aside and slicked back their hair, not caring about their own blood mixing within their hair.

“Since you and your friends seem to have bested me… For now…” Glanced the figure as they pointed a scrawny and slightly long yet well manicured finger towards the legionary, “He shall live a little longer, yet mark my words, your crown and head will be ours, Legionary.”

Kicking dirt up as he bolted, Craftee attempted a charge yet was met with the injured figure throwing a splash potion of Blindness down, obscuring his and others sight, earning him to trip and land onto the dirt.

All he could hear as he cried out for the figure to halt was reckless steps and hog like squealing as their leader ordered for a retreat. Their boots, dirtied and blood stained, were still in a bit of a view as he attempted to get up but was kicked back down. Looking up, Craftee could only see the piercing rubies that glowed under the skull this being had.

“The Blood God will have his blood, and we will free these people.” Hushed the figure before stepping away into the shadows created by the potions effect.

Moments passed as the reckless steps and weapon clattering became silent, the chants no longer audible and the effects no longer lingered.

Rising to his feet, Craftee sighed as he looked around, the fire had simmered down as he watched soldiers and common folk run around with buckets of water, attempting to stop the spread of the flames. Running his hands down his face, he quickly made his way to Legion with an apologetic look as he began to stammer, “Vee, I’m so sorry. I should have…”

Placing his hands on the brunette’s shoulders, the Roman man gave a small squeeze to bring the other back down to reality, “Craftee, it’s alright. We can rebuild and we aren’t starving for materials. All that matters is that the people are safe for now and your friends are okay.”

“Vee, I don’t… I could have done something.”

“No you couldn’t. That’s not me saying you suck or anything. I’m saying that even my army was ill prepared and taken by surprise at their attack. You did what you could and still kept my people safe, that I am thankful for.”

Giving a sigh, the young man dropped his head and groaned as he agreed with LegionVee and looked at his friends walking towards him. His eyes gazed at Dan’s wound and a bruise forming on Jay’s face, making him curious on when he was struck or if he fell due to the temporary blindness.

“Let’s return to my home, I’ll be able to get a medic to come tend to your wounds and heal anything else that we can’t see.” Cleared out the Roman man as he patted Craftee’s arm and began leading them away from the wrecked area.

Chapter Text

Dripping blood across the cold floors of rocky gravel as the soft sound of a tattered cloak dragged, picking up dust and spreading soot around, there dragged forward themselves with a large stance as whispers began to ring out in their head.

Around this figure— Stalactites dripped cold and sinful water, allowing noise to counter the exterior silence along with the bubbling from nearby Brewing Stands, and the small creaking of the wooden table that held said Brewing Stands so easily, these helped ease the whispers as something began to scratch away at their ears, removing away from the taunting and chanting.

“Sir—” Managed out a skittish redhead before being gripped by the throat, her voice struggling out as she kept going, “Sir, it’s… It’s just me, please let go…”

Letting go with a slight shove, the figure scoffed and loomed over the woman, watching as she backed away and rubbed at her neck, “What is it now, Paige?” Their eyes narrowed, still gifting that red and piercing bright hue behind the now dirtied Hog skull, “Pray tell on what deems your appearance before me. And it better be worthy of your life.”

Gulping back a heavy set of saliva, the redhead stammered as she readjusted her glasses, “W-Well, I made your potions more potent… A-And even figured out how to reinforce the Wither’s bones so they’ll last longer in battle!”

Softly humming, the figure’s eyes seemed to soften as they walked past the woman, amusement dancing in their voice, “Good. Though, scrap the Wither’s, we won’t need such measly and mediocre mobs to do our work.” The figure removed their cloak, throwing it aside with ease as the redhead watched the dress shirt— Once a pearl-like color was now drenched and stained by their own blood. “Do bring me some golden apples, I can feel the effects of those arrows and my left lung filling up with blood.”

“Right away, sir.” Responded the woman as she quickly retrieved some golden apples, each pace quicker than the other as she felt the burning stare from their boss.

“Don’t call me Sir, carrot head.” Sneered the figure as they took off the skull mask and tossed it onto the wooden table, annoyance now clear on their face, “I am not my brother, I do not need to use such tools or reuse old tactics of his.” Snatching an apple drenched in what looked to be a golden liquid from Paige’s arm, the figure groaned as their empty hand gripped away at the table as they also used it to lean against for stability.

The figure continued to groan in mild discomfort as the wounds on them began to heal slowly, bits of shattered wood and flint pushing out as the figure lunged forward and gritted their teeth. Slamming their hand against the table, the figure leaned back and took a deep inhale, one of swallowing pain and discomfort before dropping their head and exhaling calmly.

“Fucking hate healing quickly.” Huffed out the figure as they finished the apple and slicked back their hair, attempting to calm some wild strands, “Now, Paige, where the hell is my brother?”

“B-Brother…?” Questioned the woman as she looked around before setting her sights back to the figure, noting how their eyes seemed more angry and sunken in from tiredness, eyelashes a bit more thick, and even the eyebrows seeming less bushy, “Oh, I thought… My apologies, I thought you were Apollo, Ma’am.”

“The unfortunate mistake when you have twins doing the work of a fallen brother.” Huffed the figure, now revealed to be a twin of this Apollo man, “Either way, you at least keep track of every experiment you run to help the syndicate.”

“About the Syndicate, ma’am…” Quickened the redhead, adjusting her glasses once more— Almost like an annoying give away of her ridiculous need to feel secure and ease her fears, “They began to question yours and Apollo’s methods of taking down The Legion Empire. Down to even… If it is worth it to be this extreme.”

Piercing eyes of red roared as the redhead found herself being gripped roughly by the chin and dragged closer as she sneered out, “Need I remind you of what occurred when those bastards discarded my brother’s loyalty for a country they did a coup for!? Need I give you the fresh reminder that the man who willingly helped these friends also spawned ancient creatures and ripped into each one of them!?”

Shaking from fear, the redhead attempted to escape the grasp as tears began to well in her eyes, eyes that shone a small forest green hue. She reached up to her boss’s wrists and gave a small tug as she begged and stammered out, “No! I know what Technoblade did to L’Manberg! Stop, you’re hurting me!”

“Enough, Artemis.” Hummed a masculine voice, sharp yet gentle, “Let’s not abuse our strength, we don’t wish to be seen as rulers. Now do we?”

Roughly pushing away the pale woman, the boss— Sister now revealed as Artemis, merely scoffed and chuckled, “Look who finally shows up. Where the hell were you?”

“I was busy.” Sterned out the man as he caught a stumbling Paige, gently walking her towards a seat before returning his attention to his sister, “And before you ask with what, it was to see how large the island actually is and what style of army this ruler has.” Setting down his hog skull mask onto the table, his skin now in view as his eyes shined with that oh so clear red hue. Apollo seemed to also look rather stoic as his jaw clenched while he stepped to his sister's side, “This Legionary is quite versed in how to run an army, we must calculate this properly.”

“Why don’t we just kill the bastard so easily?” Hummed the sister, her voice calling for rush and quick effect, “It’s not that hard when he openly walks around the streets.”

Pushing himself off the table, he turned on his heels and called out, “Ah yes! Why don’t we kill this leader in broad daylight after your stunt?” Tilting his head a bit as he waved his hand towards the emptiness of the cavern turned temporary home, annoyance clear on his face as he stepped forward, “Your stunt cost us a major victory and a very big deal of a crown, Artemis!”

“Oh, so because I take a better approach, we are failing? We have him and his army shaken! We have them cornered on their own island, so tell me, dear brother, what good would stealth and silent attacks do for us?”

“It would have kept us in secret and allowed us proper timing with a proper plan to strike in a flashy way like you want whilst getting the Legionary’s head and crown. A restless army will lead to failure for us! All warfare is based on deception!” Shouted the man, his arms being hidden by his maroon cloak.

“Yet in the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” Ruffed out the woman as she rolled her eyes and stood up, “We shouldn’t worry when we have the enemy restless and he won’t be able to sleep.”

“That is not how Techno worked, Artemis.” Sterned out Apollo as he narrowed his eyes.

“Well he isn’t here, now is he?” Cocked out the twin, “He would be fine with either approach! Especially when the crown we are after is a fucking Roman man!”

Raising her hand timidly, the redhead offered to speak and was met with an immediate and irritated “What?!” from the female twin.

“I just…” Began the pale woman, “Apollo is right about the tactic of being stealthy, especially since word got back that Craftee made it onto the island and will in fact ruin any plans.”

Sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Apollo scoffed, “Of course you attacked when Craftee set foot on this island… Artemis, now we do have to act fast. With or without the help of the syndicate.” Quickly walking away, he gave a final warning, “We need to disarm the diamond man, he poses too much of a threat to our goal and tactics.”

“The hell do you want me to do!?” Cried out the twin as she stood onto her feet, “Apollo! Answer, you stoic pig!” Giving a groan and irritated squeal, she kicked the leg of a nearby chair and looked at the still seated Paige, their eyes meeting but with one looking more timid and afraid. “Get the Wither’s ready, and make sure to get me another set of clothes.”

Rising to her feet, Paige nodded as she began to walk past the other, “Right away, ma’am. Should I ask your brother if we should initiate the Ghostbur plan? Or should we wait a bit longer?”

“No.” Sneered out Artemis, fists clenching at her sides as blood still dripped from the cuffs of her shirt down her pale and scar filled knuckles, “Tell him that it’s best if we initiate the Bell Plan for this one. We have to win and I will take that God damn laurel crown from this disgusting Kingdom.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll let him know of the Bell plan.” As she continued her steps, the redhead stopped before slightly turning to see the state of Artemis. Their stand was cold, hateful, and ready to give in to the voices that her late brother refused to give into. “Ma’am. You don’t have to listen to the voices, even if they ask for blood.”

“Silence, Khan.” Cold out the pink haired woman, her red eyes piercing a bit into the redhead’s soul, “Do not try to talk as if you have any morality when Apollo and I are the only ones who know what you did in Atala under freewill and command of that government.”

Giving a nod and tightening her lips, the redhead gave a simple, “Fine. Just don’t mix your grief with violence.” Turning back on her heels, the redhead left. Her steps fading into the temporary base.

“The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” Muttered out the twin as she leaned against the table once more, “Know yourself and you will win all battles… Techno really had a brain for understanding Sun Tzu. How funny.”

The silence was new, there were no voices calling for bloodshed, yet one seemed to mutter away, mumbling and rambling but stopped to give one final tune.

“Revolution waits for no man.”

Chapter Text

Hissing a bit at the pain, Dan began to complain, “How come ya’ll don’t have any injuries or cuts?”

Jay patted his shoulder and smiled, “Because we didn’t get hit with the arrow, Dan, because we didn’t get hit with the arrow.”

Craftee sighed as he leaned back against the guest bed, bandages wrapped around his forearms and some under his shirt. Thoughts raced through him as he looked at his friends, “Why choose to attack Legion’s island but call for a retreat? That makes no sense, especially when this impersonator seems to have the same fighting style as Technoblade…”

Noticing their friend lost in thought, Jay offered a simple pat to the shoulder as he hummed out, “Hey, don’t overthink things. Or at least tell us what your thoughts are, if they’re just thoughts or plans.”

Smiling a bit, the brunette turned his gaze to the window, seeing the smoke now low and controlled, “I’m just wondering why they retreated. Especially when that… That Technoblade wannabe knew how to fight. They seemed too experienced and it’s kinda… What’s the word…?”

“Eating at you?” Offered Jay as he sat next to his friend.

“Yeah, it’s eating at me.” Sighing as he leaned his head against the wall, “They knew what to do, what to say. And the fighting style… They know how to fight so easily… It makes no sense when it’s so similar to him…”

“Craftee,” Called out the Legionary as he stepped in and pushed the curtain door to the side, his stance more guarded and tense as his eyes spoke of urgent need to speak, “We received a new message from the Voices. And it seems that they plan for an idiotic request.”

Getting off the bed, the brunette paced up to the other, “Is this another private thing or can my friends know about this?”

“Fortunately, this involves them too. Bring them along to the living area as soon as you can.”

Taking his leave, the brunette followed along with his friends behind. Yet, as they paced down the hallways, Craftee seemed to notice something interesting— The height difference between himself and the Legionary that sat as ruler. Keeping a giggle to himself, he even noted how it seemed that even without his own boots on, was still taller than the other man, even if it was by an inch or three.

Looming with worry as he paced into the living area, plants and boards decorating the walls and area, Legion could only hum in annoyance and worry as he spoke, “They left a new note, though this one came to be a letter rather than a note.” The man grabbed the letter off the board before them and handed it to Craftee, his friends looking over his shoulder as they read the following words.

“To our dearest foe,

We ask for your head and crown, simple and easy, you merely have to give yourself up with your government and we will cease all attacks upon your capital. We will cease all attacks after your death and will even grant you a grave of your choosing. We may call for blood and violence, but we also try for fairness and a possibility of diplomacy.

LegionVee, Legionary and self proclaimed Emperor, meet me North-West of your capital in approximately 4 days time, alone. From there, we shall stand on neutral ground until you hand over your crown and head or until we finish killing your soldiers and burn your Kingdom to ashes.

The Voices crave blood, yet only yours. Come alone, do not attempt to bring any friends unless it is the diamond man who claims to be a hero.

Written with blood,

Technoblade”

Sighing and placing the paper down, Craftee pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, irritation bleeding through, “He’s back then… So they just want you, while also taking down your government? That’s what this is about? All because some group wants to just dismantle a very happy island?”

“It seems so, my friend.” Calmed the ruler as he looked at the board, scattered with many notes and ripped sheets from the group that craved for his bloodshed.

“Mob droppings.” Sneered the brunette, earning soft whispers and a gasp from his friends, “Why does he actually want you dead? Did you betray his trust or something?”

“I did no such thing when this is the first time we even had a war against them.”

Shoving his friend, Craftee became agitated, believing there was a hidden meaning, “No, don’t lie! Legion, why do they actually want you dead?! That pig doesn’t attack unless you give him a reason!”

Eyes widened and steps were taken back as the calm man did something, raising his voice with such desperation and anguish, “I DO NOT KNOW, PARKER!”

Huffing, Legion tore off his cloak and crown, slamming them against the table, “I have no idea why that creature is after me! That hasn’t been my concern when my people are in danger and my wife and children are at risk of losing their parent and husband! I did nothing to anger these people, I merely heard my people and did the best I could to keep them happy and not risk any form of corruption!”

“That’s not what it looks like, Legion!” Scrapped the brunette as he ripped the letter from the table, allowing more papers to cascade down the edge, “You did do something for them to come here! Especially for the man who craves blood to burn bits of your city! Nobody would just attack a Rome like empire unles—” His gaze widened as he looked at the ruler then back at the table, his eyes darting immediately to the crown before him… The reason, the idea, the prize, the ultimate reward sat on that table, the Roman Laurel Leaf crown, one that even now meant greatness and symbolized a great form of power.

“He’s not after you…” Muttered the brunette as he gazed back at the frustrated legionary as he gestured for what he was talking about. “Legion, he’s after your crown.”

“Sorry, what does the crown have to do with Vee about to be assassinated?” Questioned Dan as he shook his hands out in confusion and awe, “Because so far you two just yelled at each other and then mentioned his crown!”

Jay stepped forward as he grabbed the crown from the table and hummed a bit, an idea brewing, “So this anarchist pig wants a Roman crown?”

“Seriously, is no one gonna answer my question?” Retorted Dan again, clearly still confused by the banter.

“Chester, get me a book and quill. I have an idea.” Continued Jay as he set the crown back down, his gaze switching between the two men, “Vee, Technoblade wants your crown and dismantle your government for one reason.”

“And that reason?” Gestured the Roman as he stepped forward, his brows furrowed and frustrated.

“He kills Kings, Queens, Royals, anyone of the aristocrat level or regal along with any type of government. But he has yet to kill one type of royal.” Jay smirks as he taps his finger against the crown, “A Roman Emperor. You’re the only Emperor of Roman status that is alive or known.”

Dan, having finally heard the reason, threw his hands up and began walking away in annoyance, muttering words under his breath as he sat down nearby.

“Jay, what’s the plan?” Stated Craftee as he leaned against the table, picking a bit at the loose sheets of paper and maps, “Because we can’t just go in and say, ‘Hey, here ya go! The crown is yours’, that’ll raise a ton of red flags and leave Legion exposed to be killed. Not all of us have respawns.”

Legion’s eyebrow raised as he looked towards his fellow friend, “Sorry, what are respawns?”

Beginning to articulate some words, the brunette stuttered as he also began to gesture with his hands wildly, “Eh, it’s kinda like a revival but constantly?”

“What does that mean? Do I die or do I not? Revival isn’t possible without a totem.”

Sighing in annoyance from earlier, Dan ran his hands down his face as he began the explanation, “Respawn or Respawning is basically coming back from the dead once you set your spawn point, or new origin of anchor to life, at your bed anywhere in this world. Not only can you use a bed but you can use a respawn anchor, though unfortunately they only work in the Nether. Not just that, but even if your bed gets destroyed or your anchor runs out of glowstone fuel, you still revive at your origin of life, Coordinate 0,0.”

Blinking with shock and confusion, the legionary massaged his temples as he rested against a pillar nearby, “So, since my point of origin is back in Rome, back in those many centuries. I’ll basically die forever?”

Giving a soft and pitiful look, the diamond man rested his hand on his shoulder to offer some sense of ease before his words hit massively, “No. Unfortunately with you living a hard life in Rome and having relocated to a new world, especially one where we have entered Version 1.21.11… You won’t return back to your origin point, Legion, you are living within the mode of hardcore. You’ll end up being deleted, your file and the world you created.”

Swatting his friend's hand, the legion glared as his jaw tightened. “You lie, Parker.”

“Look at your heart bar, Vee.” Spoke the other man as he raised his arm and pulled down his sleeve to reveal a set of red hearts, one clearly cracked in half. “Look at the heart bar and tell me what the difference is.”

Only staring for a few, the moment felt frozen, iced in packed ice with frost walker as a trembling hand pulled at Legion’s sleeve, almost as if an animalistic instinct appeared to him. Yet the answer stood blinding like a lantern from the sea.

Legion’s hearts were red, even matching the shape of Craftee’s, although one crucial aspect stood hurtfully clear. These Notch forsaken hearts had carved notches into them, slits that his life bar was held by sheer will and avoidance of several aspects of death.

“Mine have slits, yet yours do not…” Muttered the Roman man as he ripped the sleeve off in hopeful and forceful anger, “My heart bar mocks me with lack of revival!”

“Woah,” Stumbled back the diamond man as even his friends backed away, Jay holding the book and quill against his chest. Slowly raising his hands, Craftee began to soothe out, “Legion, buddy, we won’t let you die. I promise you that.”

Staring at the ripped fabric, the man frowned as he tossed it onto the table and scoffed, “I care not for that type of promise. If I die, it was a fair fight I held with me, perishing after the enemy.” Running his hand against the heart bar plastered into his forearm, he continued his voice, “Since you speak of revival, is there a way we can achieve that for me or shall I entrust Fortuna that she gives me a final moment with my family?”

Jay smiles softly as he looks at Craftee, “I think I found a good plan for this type of thing.”

Craftee raised an eyebrow as he looked between him and the stern roman man, “What do you mean— Actually, what are you planning?”

“Craftee, get your Tardis here by tomorrow if possible. I’ll see if Zee and Knarfy can arrive as well by tomorrow.”

Dan gave a grin as he clapped slowly and stood up from a nearby chair, “Oh, we’re doing that theory again, huh?”

Craftee merely grinned as he recalled the theory he and Skip tested with another man who seemed rather manic and hungry for testing. Resting his hands amongst the broad of the legions shoulders, he gave a rather smug smirk as he spoke, “We’re gonna play the best game that pig and you will ever see.”

With a softened look, the man sighed and smiled a bit, “Then let’s play a round with Fortuna.”