Work Text:
Minutetech whispers to you: flame come to the end rq
Minutetech whispers to you: need 2 talk about smth
Flame stared at the message, his stomach dropping slightly. Minutetech never messaged him. In the few weeks they'd been baking in his kitchen, the End guardian had remained mostly hands-off, only appearing occasionally to get food or stare flatly at the mess they made for a few, long seconds.
But now he wanted to talk?
You whisper to Minutetech: bro what
You whisper to Minutetech: am i in trouble
You whisper to Minutetech: if i am blame it on wemmbu please
Minutetech whispers to you: just come
That wasn't ominous at all.
Flame made his way through the stronghold with a growing sense of dread. Maybe they'd made too much of a mess last time? Or maybe Minutetech was tired of them using his kitchen? Maybe this was the end of their weekly baking sessions—
He stepped through the End portal and immediately spotted two figures in the kitchen. Minutetech stood by the counter, arms crossed, looking as tired as ever. And next to him, looking equally confused, was Wemmbu, his horns catching the dim light and his eyes fixed on Flame's approach.
"Bro, did you get a mysterious summons too?" Flame asked.
"Yeah." Wemmbu's tail flicked once, uncertain. "Thought I was in trouble."
Minutetech sighed—one of his signature long-suffering sighs—and reached into his inventory. He pulled out two tickets, holding them up so both Flame and Wemmbu could see.
They were colorful, printed on thick cardstock, with bold lettering that read: CAPITAL CITY ARCADE - VIP ALL-ACCESS PASS
"A certain SpokeIsHere gave me these," Minutetech said, his voice flat. "Something about 'community appreciation' and 'taking time to relax.'”
"Okay..." Flame wasn't sure where this was going.
"I would go, but I can't use them." Minutetech continued. "I'm the End guardian. I can't just leave to go play arcade games in Capital City."
Wemmbu's tail started to curl with interest. "So..."
"So I'm giving them to you two." Minutetech held out the tickets, one in each hand. "Before they expire. They're good for today only."
Flame and Wemmbu both stared at the tickets, then at each other, then back at Minutetech.
"You're... giving us arcade tickets?" Flame said slowly.
"Free arcade tickets?" Wemmbu added.
"Yes." Minutetech's expression remained carefully neutral. "All-access. Unlimited games. Valid until midnight tonight."
There was a pause.
Then Flame lunged forward. "BRO GIVE ME—"
"I SAW THEM FIRST—" Wemmbu was already moving, his claws extending slightly.
Minutetech held the tickets higher, out of reach, looking deeply exhausted. "You each get one. Stop fighting."
"Sorry, sorry." Flame backed off, grinning sheepishly.
Minutetech handed each of them a ticket. The moment the paper touched Flame's fingers, he felt the weight of it—this was real. An actual VIP pass to Capital City's arcade, the biggest and most popular arcade on the entire server.
"Holy shit, bro," Flame breathed, staring at his ticket. "This is insane."
"This is like, hundreds of games I hadn’t had time to play," Wemmbu said, his tail swishing rapidly now with barely contained excitement. "Minute, are you sure—"
"I'm sure." Minutetech crossed his arms again. "Just... try not to get banned from the arcade on your first visit."
"No promises!" Flame was already turning toward the exit.
"WAIT—" Wemmbu grabbed his shoulder. "We need to travel together, idiot. The portal to Capital City is in the overworld."
“I know, I’m not an idiot. Bro, let's go, let's go—"
They were already moving, heading for the End portal back to the overworld, their previous confusion completely forgotten in the rush of excitement.
"And Flame, Wemmbu," Minutetech called after them.
They both turned back.
Minutetech's expression softened slightly, barely noticeable. "Have fun. You've earned it."
Flame felt something warm in his chest. "Thanks, Minute. Seriously."
"We'll bring you back a prize or something!" Wemmbu added. “Thank Spoke for his sacrifice!”
"Please don't—" But they were already gone, disappearing through the portal in a rush of excited energy and the sound of Flame saying "bro, do you think they have racing games?" and Wemmbu responding "if they don't have racing games I'm leaving."
Minutetech stood alone in his kitchen, listening to the fading echoes of their voices.
He allowed himself a small smile.
Filling the End with something that felt almost like friendship.
The least he could do was give them a day off from their chaotic baking experiments.
Even if it meant they'd probably come back with stories about breaking half the machines in Capital City's arcade.
Worth it.
They bolted into the bustling main square, and Flame immediately had to adjust his blindfold. The city was massive—towering buildings made of quartz and concrete, glowstone street lamps, and players everywhere. New players walked their paths, and shops lined every street.
"Bro, where's the arcade?" Flame spun around, trying to get his bearings.
"There." Wemmbu pointed with a clawed hand toward a building. It was impossible to miss—covered in bright, flashing lights, with a huge sign that read ARCADE in neon letters. Music thumped from inside, audible even from where they stood.
They ran.
Literally ran, weaving between other players, ignoring the annoyed shouts of "watch it!" and "slow down!" until they burst through the arcade's entrance.
The inside was even more impressive than the outside.
Rows and rows of games stretched out before them. Racing games with full seat setups. Fighting games with crowds of players gathered around, shouting at the screens. Rhythm games with flashing lights and pounding music. Claw machines filled with prizes. Air hockey tables. Basketball hoops. A whole section dedicated to VR experiences.
It was overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Holy shit," Flame whispered.
"Yeah," Wemmbu breathed, his tail swishing so fast it was almost a blur.
An attendant approached them, smiling professionally. "Welcome to Capital City Arcade! Do you have tickets or would you like to purchase—"
They both held up their VIP passes.
The player’s eyes widened. "Oh! VIP all-access! Right this way, sirs. You have unlimited plays on any machine, plus access to the VIP lounge with premium games. Your passes have been registered. Enjoy your visit!"
The moment the player walked away, Flame and Wemmbu looked at each other.
"Racing games first?" Flame suggested.
"Racing games first," Wemmbu agreed.
They sprinted toward the racing section like their lives depended on it.
BRO YOU CUT ME OFF—"
"IT'S CALLED STRATEGY—"
"THAT'S NOT STRATEGY THAT'S CHEATING—"
They were on their third racing game, sitting in full racing seats with wheels and pedals, their characters on screen weaving through a complicated track filled with obstacles and other NPC racers. Flame was in second place. Wemmbu was in first.
"I'm gonna overtake you on this turn, bro, watch—"
Flame tried to cut the inside of the turn, but Wemmbu's tail had somehow wrapped around the back of Flame's seat and yanked it slightly, throwing off his timing. Flame's character spun out, hitting a wall.
"DUDE. YOUR TAIL."
"What about my tail?" Wemmbu's grin was vicious as he crossed the finish line first. "I won."
"You CHEATED. With your TAIL."
"Prove it." Wemmbu was already getting out of his seat, heading toward the next game. "Come on, I saw a fighting game over there."
"We're coming back to racing later and I'm gonna destroy you, bro."
"Sure you will."
They moved to the fighting game section, where a small crowd had gathered around one particular machine. Two players were in the middle of an intense match, fingers flying over the buttons, characters on screen performing elaborate combos.
"Winner stays on," someone in the crowd muttered. "That guy's been on for like twenty wins straight."
Flame and Wemmbu exchanged glances.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Wemmbu asked.
"Take him down?" Flame grinned. "Absolutely, bro."
They waited for the current match to end—the defending champion won, as expected—and then Flame stepped up to the second player position.
"VIP pass," he said confidently, scanning his ticket. The machine beeped in acknowledgment.
The champion—a player with a lame set of iron armour that looked shabby next to Flame’s netherite—glanced over at Flame with a smirk. "The Immortal Demon is here? You're going down."
"We'll see about that, bro."
The match started.
Flame had never been particularly good at fighting games—he was more of a "spam buttons and hope for the best" kind of player for arcade games. But he'd fought in actual combat before. He understood timing, understood reading opponents, understood that sometimes you just had to commit to an attack even if it seemed risky.
He lost the first round.
"Told you," The other player, who Flame was calling chungus in his head, said smugly.
But Flame had been learning. Watching the patterns. By the second round, he was blocking more, punishing mistakes, actually landing combos.
He won the second round.
"Okay, okay, you've got some skill," Chungus admitted, leaning forward in his seat. "But I'm still taking this."
The third round was intense. The crowd had grown larger, people gathering to watch the upset in progress. Flame's character and Chungus’ character traded blows, health bars dropping rapidly.
In the final seconds, both characters launched attacks simultaneously. The screen flashed white.
He won.
"YEAH!" Flame jumped up, pumping his fist. "BRO DID YOU SEE THAT?"
"I saw." Wemmbu was grinning, his tail curled in amusement. "Not bad."
"Not bad? That was INCREDIBLE—"
"My turn." Wemmbu slid into the player one seat before anyone else could claim the winner position. "Let's see if you can beat me, Flame."
Flame sat back down in player two, grinning competitively at Wemmbu. "Bro, I’m going to crush you.”
"Scared?" Wemmbu's purple eyes gleamed with challenge.
”Never.”
The match started, and immediately Flame realized he was outmatched. Wemmbu was good. Like, actually good. His character moved with precision, combos flowing seamlessly, blocking and punishing every mistake Flame made.
Flame lost the first round in under thirty seconds.
"Bro, have you been secretly practicing or something?"
"Maybe." Wemmbu's tail swished. "Or maybe you're just easy to read."
"Rude."
The second round went slightly better—Flame managed to get in a few good hits—but Wemmbu still won decisively.
"Best out of five?" Flame asked hopefully.
"You need to win three more rounds. I only need one."
"I know how counting works, dude."
They played the third round, and this time Flame actually started to adapt. Started to predict Wemmbu's patterns. Started to find openings.
He still lost, but it was close.
"Okay, I'm done with fighting games." Flame stood up, laughing despite the losses. "You're too good at this, bro."
"Finally admitting I'm better at something?" Wemmbu stood as well, stretching. His horns nearly hit a light fixture.
"Just at this one thing. I'm still the strongest on the server, remember?"
"Only because I let you have it."
"BRO—"
They were still bickering as they moved to the next section—basketball hoops. This turned into an immediate competition of who could score the most baskets in sixty seconds. Flame won by three points, which he absolutely rubbed in Wemmbu's face.
Then came air hockey, which devolved into chaos when Wemmbu's tail kept sneaking under the table to nudge the puck. Flame retaliated by using tiny bursts of heat to create air currents that threw off Wemmbu's shots. The nearby attendant had to come over and politely ask them to "please play fairly or we'll have to ask you to move on."
They moved on to the claw machines.
"These are rigged, bro," Flame said, watching the claw grab a plushie only to drop it immediately.
"Everything's rigged if you're bad at it." Wemmbu stepped up to a different machine, this one filled with expensive-looking prizes—even a few netherite ingots. "Watch and learn."
He inserted his VIP pass. The machine whirred to life.
Wemmbu's claws extended slightly as he gripped the joystick, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He maneuvered the claw with surprising precision, positioning it directly over an enchanted book.
The claw descended. Grabbed. Lifted.
The book wobbled but stayed in the claw's grip as it moved toward the prize chute.
"No way," Flame breathed.
The book dropped into the chute. Wemmbu reached in and pulled it out, examining it with satisfaction. "Efficiency IV. Not bad."
"Bro, HOW?"
"Precision." Wemmbu's tail curled smugly. "And maybe these claws are good for something other than fighting."
"Do another one. Get something for Minute."
"Good idea."
They spent the next twenty minutes at the claw machines, with Wemmbu winning prize after prize—even two matching plushie that looked like a tiny Enderman which he claimed was for Eggchan and Minutetech. Flame managed to win a few things too, though his success rate was much lower.
Eventually, they wandered toward the VIP lounge, curious about what "premium games" meant.
The VIP lounge was separated from the main arcade by a velvet rope and another attendant who checked their passes before letting them through. Inside, the games were more elaborate—full VR setups and advanced simulation games.
"Bro, is that a full PvP simulator?" Flame pointed to a machine with two pods.
"Two-player too." Wemmbu was already heading toward it. "Want to get absolutely destroyed?"
"Bring it, dude."
They climbed into the pods, which sealed around them and activated. Suddenly, they were standing in a simulated arena—a flat plane with various obstacles and cover points. Both of them could select their preferred fighting kit, Wemmbu going for his usual elytra-mace while Flame with his signature cobweb-sword kit.
"This is sick," Flame said, testing out his simulated sword. It felt almost real in his hands.
"Three rounds?" Wemmbu suggested, his simulated claws extending. "Winner gets bragging rights."
"Deal, bro."
The first round was fast and brutal. They fought like they actually meant it—no holding back, using every trick they'd learned from real combat with eachother. Flame used his mobility to stay unpredictable, while Wemmbu used his claws and tail for unexpected attacks.
Wemmbu won the first round with his mace, considering both of them weren’t holding back to kill eachother now.
Flame won the second.
The third round came down to the wire. Both of them were low on simulated health, circling each other warily, Wemmbu out of fireworks and wind charges, Flame with an uselessly broken shield tossed to the side. Flame made the first move—a feint to the left followed by a strike from the right. Wemmbu blocked it, countered with his claws instead of his shield, but Flame rolled under the attack and came up with an upward slash.
Wemmbu’s health bar depleted, causing Flame to win, the blaze hybrid whooping out in excitement unnecessarily.
They both climbed out of the pods, breathing hard despite it being virtual combat.
"That was actually really fun," Wemmbu admitted. "Even though you got lucky."
"Lucky? BRO, that was pure skill—"
”Oh really?”
They bickered and grabbed food from the arcade's concession stand—ridiculously overpriced but they were too hungry to care—and sat in the VIP lounge, eating and watching other players compete on various machines.
"This is nice," Flame said after a while, his voice quieter than usual. "Just... hanging out. Doing normal stuff."
"Yeah." Wemmbu's tail curled contentedly. "Better than fighting a thousand players."
"I don't know, bro, that was pretty epic."
"True. But this is more relaxing." Wemmbu finished his food, crumpling up the wrapper. "Plus, no one's trying to kill us."
"Yet. The day's not over."
"If you start a fight in this arcade, I'm leaving you here."
"Bro, you'd totally help me fight."
"Maybe." But Wemmbu was smiling slightly. "Depends on how good of a fight it is."
They spent the rest of the afternoon bouncing between different games. Rhythm games where they both failed spectacularly. Shooting games where Flame's aim was surprisingly good. A multiplayer maze game where they kept accidentally sabotaging each other. More racing games where Wemmbu won every single time, much to Flame's frustration.
As the sun started to set—visible through the arcade's large windows—they found themselves back at the basketball hoops, competing one last time.
"I'm up by five," Flame announced, watching his score climb. "Face it, bro, I'm the basketball champion."
"We've played like ten times. I've won half of them."
"But I'm winning NOW."
Wemmbu's timer ran out, and he stretched, his horns nearly hitting the ceiling again. "Alright, you win this round. Happy?"
"Very, bro. We should probably head back soon. Minute's gonna want to hear about this."
"And Egg." Wemmbu pulled out the two tiny Enderman plushie. "Can't forget their prizes."
They made their way toward the exit, tired but happy, their VIP passes having been thoroughly used. The attendant at the door wished them a good evening, and they stepped back out into Capital City's main square.
The city was beautiful at sunset, all the buildings glowing with various light sources. Players were still rushing around, but the energy felt more relaxed now, people heading home or to their next destination.
They were still arguing good-naturedly as they stepped through the portal back to the overworld, then made their way to the End portal to report back to Minutetech.
When they arrived at the End, Minutetech was there, doing this usual guard duty. He looked up as they approached, his expression carefully neutral.
"You're both back. Banned from the arcade?"
"We didn't get banned!" Flame said indignantly. "We were perfect guests, bro."
"Mostly perfect," Wemmbu corrected. "There was an incident with the air hockey table."
"An incident you caused with your tail—"
"And YOU caused with your weird fire air current thing—"
Minutetech held up a hand. "I don't want to know." He paused. "Did you have fun?"
Both of them stopped bickering.
"Yeah," Flame said, his voice sincere. "Thanks for the tickets, Minute. Seriously. That was amazing."
"Best day I've had in a while," Wemmbu added. His tail uncurled slightly, and he pulled out the two enderman plushies they'd won. "Got you this."
Minutetech took one, examining it. Something in his expression softened. "Thank you. That's... thoughtful."
"And we got the other one for Egg." Wemmbu declared proudly. “I’ll go give it to him later.”
"He'll appreciate it. I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves, you two. You deserved a break." Minutetech said softly.
"Bro, we're still baking next week though, right?" Flame asked anxiously.
"Of course. Same time as always." Minutetech almost smiled. "Just try not to burn down my kitchen."
"No promises!" Flame called as he headed toward the portal home.
Wemmbu shouted an mock-aggressive insult at Flame before scurrying off to give Egg the enderman plushie in his hands, Flame responding with a bark of laughter.
Minutetech watched them leave, listened to their voices fade as they argued about who had won more games.
And somehow, despite everything, the End felt a little less lonely.
He pulled out the enderman plushie in his hands, running his thumb over the smooth felt.
Yeah. This was nice.
Theo practically slammed into Capital City’s potion shop, where Parrot peacefully brewed potions, wings twitching, one airpod in an ear, blasting Laufey over the evening’s noise of the bustling city.
“PARROT! You’ll never guess who I saw at Capital City’s Arcade today.”
Parrot cocked his head to the side, looking up curiously. “Who?”
“Flame and Wemmbu. They were both fighting eachother in air hockey.”
“What.”
