Chapter Text
2 Minecraft Pros VS 1000 Players
From the thunderous roars of thousands of soldiers, now only the heavy breathing of two lives remained on the sea of bloodied grass.
Wemmbu could only gaze down at the battlefield below. Horrifying corpses littered the ground, abandoned armor and weapons strewn about. They once belonged to the soldiers of the LAW. The two had spent almost a full day slaughtering the army, finally ending up in the attic of a tall building, resting after a long war.
The crackling sound of flames behind him reminded Wemmbu that he wasn't alone. Teaming up with his rival had made the purple demon realize many things about himself. Having someone to help wasn't always a bad thing, even if they were lifelong enemies. Having Flame join the battle this time meant Wemmbu didn't have to worry about guarding his own back, and because of that, the demon guarded the blaze’s back as well. For some reason, he trusted Flame more than a rival should. Was it because they were a team? Or because they had known each other for so long? Wemmbu wasn't sure, but he found it more enjoyable when the two fought together than when they fought against each other. Perhaps...they could be… friends?
Nonsense.
The sound of fire and the smell of burning faded. Flame must have finished arranging his inventory by now. What should they do next?
"This place is cooked forever."
Looking down at the bloody scene before him, Wemmbu said with a smile, loud enough for the other to hear. The sound of boots grew closer and louder, faster...?
Clang!
The familiar sound of a potion glass shattering in both their ears. Wemmbu turned instinctively, but not fast enough to avoid a scorching hot sword slicing across his side. The burning pain made the demon scream. His leg, unprepared for the attack, weakened, causing him to lose his balance and fall from the tall building. Luckily, Wemmbu managed to spread his wings in time, though the impact was humiliating. His wings absorbed most of the force of the fall. He quickly got up, regaining his composure, and checked his injuries.
Scraped limbs, bleeding knee, wings...probably unusable for a while.
The demon felt dizzy. He felt warm fluid on his forehead, accompanied by the repulsive smell of metal that he never got used to, no matter how many times he experienced it. He wiped it away as best he could, but worse, warm fluid was trickling from his side. The burning wound was slowly cooling, but the colder it got, the more intense the pain. Wemmbu bit his lip to keep from crying out. By the time he managed to stand up, Flame was already facing him. The blaze also seemed covered in wounds from the previous battle, but his wounds were clearly not as lethal as Wemmbu's.
"Now that this is over, let’s fight, bro."
Flame said, determined, the fire on his hands and sword blazing from the adrenaline rush.
Ah, that's right. Their alliances were only temporary. He had promised Flame a rematch after they dealt with the LAW army together—a rematch to determine who was the strongest. However, he was now in a very unsuitable condition for this kind of fight. He should have postponed the match, or at least rested a bit more to treat his wounds. Anyway, Wemmbu picked up a golden apple and took a bite. The astringent taste of metal mingled with the salty taste of blood in a disgusting way. The smell of iron made him dizzy (or was it because of the wound on his head?). He felt the small wounds on his body slowly closing. His weary hand picked up 'Gambit,' preparing to fight (he felt like he was going to collapse just holding it).
"D’Alright, bro.”
The purple demon murmured softly. He wasn't really in the mood to fight, but the longer the match was delayed, the more Flame would bother him about it. It was better to end it right here and now. He splashed various potions at his feet. The effects of the potions slowly seeped into his body. The potions that touched his open wounds stung, making him grit his teeth, but as long as the war (between him and Flame) continued, he couldn't rest.
-
The battle unfolded swiftly, too quickly. Every time Wemmbu flew up to mace Flame, if he didn't accidentally fall, he would barely miss. Really, just pathetic. Wemmbu had to rely on his swordsmanship instead, a skill both he and Flame knew the blaze was clearly excelled at. The demon was practically powerless now—potions, golden apples, armor—nothing left. He heard Flame say something to him, but his ears were ringing so bad it hurt, and he felt like he was collapsing wherever he ran.
"Bro, I just want my title back."
"We can stop fighting now, but you have to admit that I am the strongest."
Flame said as he ran (walked) breathlessly after Wemmbu, getting closer and closer. His voice sounded...scared? Concerned? Caring? Wemmbu was probably imagining things. What kind of rival would care about their opponent?
Wemmbu whined in displeasure. From Flame's words, from his wounds, from the blood flowing along the path he ran (barely walked), he didn't turn back, but he was certain Flame was following him. He didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to rest. He wanted to go home.
'Home'? Did Wemmbu ever have a home? (Minute's place in The End? The castle and houses in the abandoned civilization that Rejoice once guarded? Or the small shed of his and Egg’s in the empire that Zam blew up?) Nothing went his way after receiving the title of the strongest. He only did it to prove himself, to prove his mentor wrong. He won, but he was still hunted, as if they turned the world upside down to search for him. He created a new identity, started a new life, but ultimately, he was dragged back to the old Wemmbu, dragged to pay for his past sins, the person everyone wanted to kill (the one who disappointed Mane) (the one who was a lost cause).
If he were to give this title to Flame, the thing he had sacrificed practically everything to get, if he wasn't the strongest, would he ever get any rest?
Would Mane ever return? If he were truly a lost cause?
Finally, Wemmbu scrambled into the crater he had created for himself by his orbitals. His whole body ached. The open wounds were still fresh. Blood dripped onto the ground where he stood. He tried to press down on the wound on his side to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. The strength of his hand wasn't enough to stop the bleeding. The demon heard the sound of boots hitting the ground above him and looked up.
Flame stood on the edge of the rocks above in the same pit as him. The blindfold prevented Wemmbu from clearly seeing his opponent's face (or perhaps his vision was blurring every second?), but he sensed that Flame seemed... worried? Shouldn't he be happy to have defeated his opponent? The blaze seemed tense before speaking:
"Can you just admit that I'm the strongest?"
"Like—"
"Yeah."
"You—you can be the strongest."
"..."
"...That's it?"
"..."
"Yeah."
Relief. He felt a great sense of relief, as if the weight of everything had been lifted in that instant. Flame didn’t seem satisfied. Why? He had already given the title back (to who it truly belonged to.) ? He should be happy, shouldn't he?
"Well… I guess I'm going now?"
Flame spoke in a soft, hesitant voice, unlike his usual firmness. Why is he acting like that?
"Okay."
"Are—uh... are you sure you don't need any help?"
"Mm, I... I think I'll stay here a little longer."
The blaze seemed slightly suspicious of Wemmbu, but didn't say anything.
"Okay, then... see you."
"Yeah, see you."
With Flame's words, he climbed back up from the small hole. Wemmbu watched his rival's figure disappear from sight.
The breath he had held escaped his lips as his legs trembled. It happened so quickly. Wemmbu collapsed to the ground, his hands fumbling for the wall to regain his balance, but found nothing but emptiness. His weak body fell into the hole below, his skin, wings and horns scraping against the wall. Wemmbu didn't fight back. (Even though he wanted to, he had no strength left.) His wings absorbed the impact as always. A final surge of force erupted from the demon's throat in the form of blood. Blood that pooled on the ground, blood that dripped from his dry lips. Wemmbu choked on his own blood and smiled.
All hope is gone.
(Hurry footsteps grow closer.)
All those who stood by him are gone.
(The sound of pebbles falling down the edge of the cliff into the deep hole.)
All warmth is gone.
(The sound of boots clattering carelessly to the ground.)
‘ Wasted on this rivalry that's gonna get you both killed one day. ‘
Minute was right. Mane was right. Zam was right. Jaden was right.
I’m reckless. I’m weak. I'm a lost cause. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, Minute, for never listening to your warnings.
I'm sorry, Mane. You were right about everything. I cared too much. Can you come back?
I'm sorry, Egg, for never being able to protect you. I'm sorry for always dragging you into danger. I guess I can't come back to free you from The End after all. I'm sorry.
...
I miss you so much.
I wonder if Rejoice is waiting for me?
I wish I could see you one more time.
Wemmbu closed his blurry eyes, his wings and tail curling in to protect his weak body, as if grasping for one last moment of warmth. So cold.
(A warm hand reached out to grasp his icy one.)
The demon’s body and clothes were stained with the bright red of fresh blood. Anyone who saw him would be disgusted. Perhaps he could finally rest here.
(A familiar, trembling voice called out from nearby, but his ears were too numb to hear any words.)
For once after a long time, he felt warm.
…A little nap wouldn’t hurt.