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Wemmbu wandered aimlessly.
What else was he supposed to do, anyhow?
He was immortal. Thousands of years had passed, with everyone he had ever known dying. He was the only one left.
He stayed hidden in the Farlands. No one knew he was alive, and he meant to keep it that way. He was an urban legend on the server. They tell stories of him to their children. Wemmbu, the great warrior. Conqueror.
They told stories of Spoke. The exploiter. They whispered about the group of fighters who stopped him from destroying the world as they know it.
They told stories of the Zam Empire. Not entirely accurate, but close enough to make Wemmbu’s heart burn when he overhears.
The reign of the Mafia. Wemmbu was often overshadowed by the efforts of Parrot and Spoke, but historians still recognized him as the one to fight ClownPierce and make the revolution possible.
The Pirate Empire was forgotten in time. Jaden, once an enemy, once a friend, was nothing more than a footnote in his story. They didn’t remember his empire. They didn’t remember what he had done.
Rejoice was the first one Wemmbu lost. He was not the last.
The tales of his strength and power were spread. Wyll, the second coming of the mafia that was defeated in turn. Flame, the only warrior to match his strength.
The Farlands were kept hidden. For that, Wemmbu was grateful.
The Invisible Knight remained the most memorable part of his legacy. Despite the Law’s influence, statues of his disguise were built in Capital City. The city, once a small nation, had grown into an empire that still stands today. He is often credited as a founding father of the state.
Not true, but for such a long time ago, no one expected it to be.
The defeat of the Law was regarded as his largest accomplishment. LettuceK, once beloved in his time, lived a legacy as a villain that parents warned their children of. District 13 was remembered as a symbol of hope and justice.
Alas, they had it all wrong. He was not a symbol of hope. Definitely not one of strength, nor courage.
He was a reminder of loss.
After Rejoice, he escaped his curse for a while. He survived past the Law and was able to restart and fulfill a simple life on the server.
Jaden was the next to die. Betrayed by his own pirates, a Mutiny took his life. Wemmbu avenged him, but it was in vain. His once enemy, then friend, was gone for good.
Minute was killed soon after. A new group of upstarts had wanted to build an empire in the End. They wanted to imitate ClownPierce’s resource control of the Nether, except with a dimension viewed as “easier to conquer.” Minute tried his best, but he was alone against an army.
Wemmbu recruited Flame to defeat the empire. He walked out of the battle covered in blood that was not his own.
It did not stop there. Friends died left and right. Spoke was murdered by a mysterious group that wanted revenge for his exploits. Zam died soon after. Wemmbu built them a gravestone. It’s been turned into a temple, housing their memory.
Parrot was killed mysteriously, the causes still debated to this day. Theo lived, but he never recovered from the death. He refused to say what had happened. Wemmbu didn’t push.
Boosfer disappeared, last seen in Merchant City. Wemmbu had tried looking for him, but nothing came of it.
ClownPierce was killed, freeing the nether from his control. Ferre died with him.
LettuceK stayed in prison until he died, passing away peacefully in his sleep. The Fallen King.
Flame didn’t die to Wemmbu’s sword. He did not fall in battle. FlameFrags died peacefully, living a fulfilling life. He was never defeated, in all his time on the server. The Immortal Demon, they call him. No one was powerful enough to stop Flame but the Gods themselves.
The deaths hurt, but Wemmbu moved on. He mourned them, friends and enemies alike, but lived on in their memory.
His resolve collapsed when Eggchan died.
Egg had been his closest friend. Wemmbu had naively believed that he wouldn’t be affected by Wemmbu’s curse. It was a foolish belief.
Wemmbu waited for death to take him. To let him reunite with his friends on the other side.
It never arrived.
Wemmbu faked his death for the second time at the age of 56. Despite his age, he didn’t look a day older than 20. Ever since the Law, his aging had ceased.
He ventured across the server to try to find the source of his immortality. If he could find what caused it, he’d be able to get rid of it too.
He didn’t want to live forever.
(Nevertheless, he would.)
He travelled back to every place he could remember. Under a careful disguise, he questioned old acquaintances (there weren’t many left) of a way to defy death.
He was written off as crazy, most of the time. A man unwilling to accept his death, doing everything he could to defy the inevitable.
Ironic.
The pieces clicked together. Too little, too late. There was only one place he had travelled to without Egg that could have caused this. A place no one on the server knew of.
A place few players had ever walked out of.
The Underworld was an unnatural landscape. The second time wasn’t any easier than the first.
Unlike his first experience, however, he found himself able to alter the lands. Instead of happiness, he found himself feeling uneasy.
The Soulkeepers weren’t surprised to see him. They didn’t fight him like before.
“You are one of us, whether you like it or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“We are cursed to wander this realm endlessly. The Underworld is not a place meant to be accessed. Death does not affect its inhabitants.”
“I’m not a Soulkeeper. I don’t live here.”
“You do not understand. Once you enter the Underworld, you can not leave. It becomes a part of you. It’s a legacy none can break hold of.”
“What about Boosfer?”
“He rejoined the realm when he learned of his immortality. He has been settling in well. Soon, he will officially join our ranks. It is time you do the same.”
Despite the Soulkeeper’s insistence, he refused. Wemmbu may be immortal, but he did not want to stay here. The Overworld was his home, and he would not abandon it.
The Soulkeepers let him go. “You’ll be back eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”
Wemmbu ventured far away. That was the last time he’d seen the real server. He went out to the Farlands, set up a home where no one would ever look.
And he lived there.
For thousands of years.
Immortal and alone.
He had not had visitors in a long time.
Players used to travel to the Farlands. Not many, but enough that Wemmbu would remember life existed.
It had been a few hundred years since the last one. He did not investigate why.
The player in front of his home was dressed in robes similar to that of the Greek. Wemmbu’s heart stung. It reminded him of a friend from long ago.
“Hey, uh, does anyone live here?”
He walked out. “It’s been a while since I’ve had visitors.”
The player looked at him skeptically. “Alright. Not cryptic at all. You know where I can find a kingdom around here?”
Wemmbu felt a sense of Déjà vu. This time, however, he was on the other end of it. “The Farlands Kingdom? I’m afraid you’re on the wrong side. It’s about 3 million blocks west from here.”
“What? Noooo!” The stranger’s voice cracked.
Wemmbu couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What are you doing, looking for SerpentBound, anyway?” He had managed to ease relations with the king over time. They were both cursed with immortality (The Farlands had been more connected to the Underworld than he had realized in his younger years. They had plenty of time to talk out their differences.)
“I’ve been… searching. For this player. I don’t know who he is, but I just have a feeling I have to find him.”
“Who is it?”
The player hesitated. “This is going to sound crazy… but Wemmbu.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He managed to keep his voice level. “Wemmbu? He’s been dead for thousands of years.”
“I know! But I just have this feeling that he’s not. I can’t explain it. But a… player I visited told me to search in the Farlands. So here I am.”
Wemmbu’s mind was reeling. How could this player know of his immortality? The Soulkeepers, annoyed as they were by his refusal to “give in” to his “destiny,” still would not have revealed him. Very few people knew he was alive. No one who this player could have possibly come into contact with.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Wemmbu is dead. He has been for a long time. Who are you anyway, searching for a ghost?”
“My name is Eggchan.”
Wemmbu stilled. “Repeat that.”
“Eggchan?”
Nobody should know that name.
Egg was not known in the history books. His name had been forgotten to time. Historians referred to him as “The Watcher.”
“Nobody should know that name.”
“What do you mean?” Egg asked, frightened.
So Wemmbu had spoken aloud. He ignored the words and focused on the player in front of him.
The sense of familiarity had not gone away. In fact, it had only magnified as they spoke.
Reincarnation wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
So why did this player look identical to one who had died so long ago?
“You’re not real.”
The player sputtered, trying to say something, but the ringing in Wemmbu’s ears drowned him out.
“You can’t be real. Eggchan is dead.”
“I’m not? I’m right here. What do you mean…”
“You’re not Eggchan. He died. He died because I could protect him. You’re not him.”
“I—”
He felt tears falling down his face. “You… you can’t be real.”
Egg’s face flickered through a series of emotions. Confusion. Realization. Hope.
“Wemmbu…”
“You died.”
“I— I did.” Egg seemed to be struggling through something. His expression was conflicted. “I think I remember now.”
“…”
“I— we were friends. Best friends. We built an empire together. Defeated tyrants.”
Wemmbu’s voice cracked. “You were the best friend I could ever have.”
“I died. I left you.”
“It was my fault. I couldn’t save you.”
“No. I left you. Alone. It’s— it’s been so long.”
“I never forgot you.”
They looked at each other. Really looked at each other. Thousands of years separated them, and yet they’d never felt more close.
“I’m sorry,” they spoke in unison. Startled, they both began to laugh.
Wemmbu shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Gods, you never change.”
“You think I’d let you live without me? We’re in it together.”
“By association?”
“You do not have to bring that up.” Egg huffed. “I still don’t forgive you for that.”
“Maybe it was revenge for all the times I had to save you.”
“I’m a great hostage.”
“Whatever, bro. How are you even here?”
“You think death can stop me? Someone has to keep you in check.” Egg looked him up and down. He smiled sadly. “Time hasn’t treated you well.”
“It was hard. To live without you. I’d wake up and forget you were gone. Then I’d remember. It was the worst feeling I’ll ever experience.”
“You won’t have to anymore. I’m here. I won’t leave again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Reunited.
Who were they kidding? Death could never keep them apart.