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Mapicc kicked Ro’s leg off his lap and sent the other a fiery glare that was completely ignored.
“Do you not know what personal space is?” He asked, making the irritation clear in his voice.
Ro only responded by tutting and swinging his leg back over. Mapicc gave him an annoyed roll of his eyes, but returned to the blueprint of their next build once again.
It was Summer and the winds were mercilessly warm. The area in Spawn they were sitting in had hardly any cover, and Mapicc could feel the heat eating away at his skin. Ro, however, was a human-cooler (as human as his extra floating hands could be), and Mapicc couldn’t entirely say he wasn’t grateful for the leg on his lap.
“I think we’ll need a few more obsidian blocks,” He said after a while of silence. When no response came, he looked up.
Ro was staring at the grass, picking at it with a thinly concealed grimace. Mapicc felt curiosity bubble through him; did the other have regrets about their plan? He certainly had his doubts, but Ro had seemed so sure of himself that he had decided to follow along anyways. To be honest, it wouldn’t be bad to change their plan—in fact, it would probably be better. Mapicc couldn’t see how trapping every member on the server would turn out well.
In Spoke’s words—the third member of their team—Ro seemed like he was 'slowly losing it'.
“Do you think it’ll work?”
Mapicc glanced up at Ro’s voice, but they weren’t looking at him. His eyes were still trained on the grass, the tips of his nails green from pulling them apart. The heat of the Summer was blinding, but his friend radiated a calming cool. Mapicc tried to decipher the look on Ro’s face, but decided it was too much work and gave up.
“Well, you got a better plan?” He asked. Maybe Ro's realised that the plan was unethical. Maybe they wouldn't have to kill everyone.
Silence bled.
“No, not really,” Ro finally said. Mapicc couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. “Spawn needs to be protected.”
Ro’s lips dipped further into a frown. Mapicc watched for a moment, quietly wondering what it could possibly mean. Was there something the other wasn’t telling him? His mind itched to ask, but he decided against it. They needed to trust each other right now—that was what was important. If Mapicc questioned Ro’s motives, the other could get the wrong idea. He didn't want that.
They sat in the Sun for the next couple of hours, aimlessly watching the clouds drift. They held loose conversation, with Mapicc probing innocent questions and Ro giving the occasional answer. At some point, it started getting cooler, and Mapicc felt Ro lean into his warmth.
“I think it’s kind of funny,” Ro suddenly said. Mapicc looked down, surprised the other was actually staring back at him.
Ro’s eyes were normally purple, but the Sun had lit it into a churning lavender. Inside, Mapicc could see some sort of clarity and an almost laughing gaze humouring him. Mapicc allowed himself to smile back.
“What’s funny?”
“It sounds nice when you say Roshambo and Mapicc, but sounds weird when you say Mapicc and Roshambo.”
The teen dressed in red gave the other a weird look. “I think both sound fine.”
Ro gave a short hum of acknowledgment, and Mapicc frowned at the patch of grass abused by Ro. It looked like a balding spot; surely this couldn’t be all he was thinking of the entire time. Maybe Spoke was right—Ro had gone absolutely mental.
“I like Roshambo and Mapicc better,” Ro declared after a few more seconds.
Mapicc gave in to the normality of conversation, deadpanning into a mock serious expression. “But that’s only because your name’s in the front.”
“Yeah, but ‘Mapicc and Roshambo’ sounds weird. Having my name at the front is just an added bonus.”
“No, because I’m obviously the cooler one, so my name should be at the front.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Ro replied, sticking out his tongue.
Mapicc scoffed at the duality of Roshambo. One moment he’s a silent pondering philosopher, the next, he's a child in a daycare. Honestly, he deserved a badge for putting up with this nonsense.
“C’mon, it’s gonna be dark soon.” Mapicc rose from the ground, knowing Ro would follow. “Let’s head back.”
His friend caught up to him quickly, a violet cloak tugged closer around his body. Mapicc pulled the other in as they walked through the dimming evening.
The air was warm, but with a tingling foretelling frost, and the Sun dropped lower and lower. Grass crunched beneath his boots, and the swish-sway of Ro’s cloak became the tempo of their walk. He briefly wondered just how many days like this they had left. Sooner or later, the plan would have to progress.
As they walked into the heart of Spawn, builds after builds arched around them. Mapicc caught Ro admiring each one with wonder, and he felt himself give into a smile. Even when they'd first met, Ro's priority had been to protect Spawn. Where this instinct came from, neither of them knew, but it was an objective always at the top of Ro's list. Spawn, through the events following this season, has filtered through many people claiming to protect it, and those trying to destroy it. A constant, however, was Ro--even if his methods were a little topsy-turvy.
Ro’s mental, Spoke’s voice echoed in his head. He’s becoming a madman, Mapicc. You can’t just call killing everyone on the server ‘saving Spawn’.
That was true—Mapicc really doubted this plan, but Ro had always been fixed on protecting Spawn. It didn’t justify the planned killings, but Mapicc had sort of seen it coming.
This much he had told Spoke.
Listen, if Roshambo really wanted to protect Spawn; he would encourage peace—not whatever he’s planning right now.
Mapicc looked at Ro, who was walking calmly on his left. Spoke’s voice continued talking.
I don’t care if he’s your best friend! You have to see that what he’s doing is wrong. We have to stop him, Mapicc.
Their arms brushed every few steps, and Mapicc wondered if Ro could hear his thoughts.
Spoke's next few words came out as a sigh, but in all evenness it was grave. At the end of the day, man, it’s up to you whether you want to save the people of this server, or save the kid willing to kill them.
As night fell, they were still a couple of minutes away from their base. The frost from the evening brought on a chill, and cold winds from the North blew gently against their faces. Overhead, stars started shimmering into view, and the darkness allowed the lights from Spawn to glitter like pale orange gems in the distance.
Hearts forbid this awful temperature, Mapicc thought. It was boiling during the day, then a literal blizzard at night. While he suffered through the heat, Ro would freeze in the cold. Then, as if on cue with Mapicc's thoughts, his friend gave a violent shiver. Without a second thought, he shoved Ro's ice-blocks-for-hands into the pocket of his hoodie for the rest of the walk.
"Warmer?" He asked. Ro flashed him a grateful grin.
Just know that whatever you choose, I’ll be there with you. Spoke said to him the day after. I know it won’t be easy because you two are close, but that shouldn’t stand in the way of doing what’s right.
When they arrived at the base, Ro untangled himself from Mapicc's pocket and announced he’d collect the extra obsidian mentioned earlier. The other watched him go in silence, his friend’s name tag shifting further and further away.
Mapicc trusted that Ro’s heart was in the right place, but he didn't like the idea of trapping everyone. It seemed excessive, but he didn't know if Ro was willing to listen. Maybe Spoke was right; something had to be done. What was to be done, though, Mapicc wasn’t sure. How far was he willing to go? He could try to talk Ro out of it. Yes, he could. But even as the idea emerged in his head, something felt off.
Mapicc blinked, suddenly noticing he hadn't moved since they entered. In a haze, he stumbled towards their storage system, hoping to get his hands on something that would distract him.
Impossibly, with Ro gone, the room seemed to grow only colder.
If Ro had noticed that something was wrong with Mapicc that night, he never brought it up.
Mapicc confided in Spoke again, and the two had come up with a plan. He didn’t like it all that much, but they agreed it was the only way. He was going to betray Ro.
The extent of it? He wasn’t completely sure.
Mapicc was on Ro’s heels and the other was running--reminiscent of prey escaping predator.
Ro wasn’t trying to fight, just blocking the necessary blows, and Mapicc couldn’t help the guilt pouring through him.
Some people would call him heartless and cruel, but with every step he caught up with, the more finalised his decision became.
It was for the better. Ro should know it was for the better.
They ran past the clearing they had sat together a few weeks before, and Mapicc felt a flood of emotions overcoming him. That was the first day he had doubted, really truly doubted Ro. Yet, the slight stinging in his legs and soreness of his limbs reminded him of reality.
The more he chased, the more that doubt seemed right.
Spoke was right.
At some point, they had stumbled into a cave. Ro’s eyes were panicked, and his expression screamed of pain. Mapicc didn’t let himself feel bad and tried to focus instead on the pounding of his heart.
What he was doing was right. It would save people. It was right.
“Mapicc, talk to me!” Ro’s voice was a sob, not angry, only confused.
He drew himself closer, grip on the handle of his axe tightening. He didn’t trust himself to speak, too afraid the words would come out wrong–too afraid that he would break down.
It was for the better. Ro had to know.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s happening?” The sob came again. It was broken, shattered, a croak straining under blood loss and pain. “Mapicc?”
It was heart wrenching–Mapicc’s eyes stung.
He felt like vomiting all over the floor. He felt like dropping the axe and stuffing Ro’s bloody hands into his pockets, telling him he’s sorry and promising to communicate more.
He wanted to rip off his armour, laugh it off and splash Ro with healing potions until he was all better. He wanted to stop, wanted to keep watching the clouds drift with Ro, but he couldn’t ignore Spoke’s warning.
They’d gone too far. Mapicc and Roshambo both.
As he came closer, he became more aware of Ro’s cold body. His friend was silent, shivering, and eyes filled with a mystified fear. He was waiting—waiting for Mapicc to make the first move.
Caught between each echoing breath and heartbeat, Mapicc gritted his teeth and strengthened his resolve. Ro had to see that he was wrong–that killing people wasn’t the answer to his problems. Howeber, even as Mapicc thought that,the irony threatened to spill as crazed laughs.
Without room for a second thought, forcing his body to move before he could stop himself, Mapicc lunged and drove the sword into Ro’s chest.
His aim was true, sharp and piercing as it tore open flesh. The telltale crackle of someone losing a life consumed the air, electrifying and shocking Mapicc to the core.
It was for the better, he told himself. Again and again.
Always. Always for the better.
Lighting burst from the ground. It streamed out of Ro’s body, sending Mapicc tumbling to the other side of the cave. His vision went white–the flash thundering through the darkness of his eyelids.
Mapicc reacted slowly, stepping back and flailing. It seemed to enclose his senses–a sharp siren in his ears, a wail in his throat, and forks in his eyes.
Then, just as suddenly, it disappeared.
He collapsed, leaning for support and feeling his body spasm.
Fading and soft, for a second Mapicc thought he saw a pair of eyes. They were bright, looking up at him, lavender and laughing. He tried to reach for it, desperate, but dropped like a stone to the ground. The eyes watched him with a growing softness, but then like ice on a Summer’s day, it melted quickly away.
Gone.
Mapicc felt the world swoop. Ro’s body was gone. The cold was gone. The uneven breaths of pain had completely disappeared.
Where Ro had been backed tightly into a wall, cowering and quiet, his name tag cracked out of reality and the last traces of his violet robes glitched into dust. The only evidence of him living was a single heart, dull and silver, nestled in the shadows of the cave.
Mapicc’s limbs were swaying, heart heavy in his chest and eyes burning from the flash and from the look on Ro’s face. The heat from the chase was aggravating, like worms in his skin and pulsing all over him.
He felt sweat drip from his hair, and something watery rolling down his cheek. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to take a break. He wanted the coolness of Ro’s hands in his, dragging him back to earth.
But gone, all gone. Ro was gone.
Sunlight melted into the cave, and Mapicc’s thoughts dulled in his mind, toned with an echoing sigh. Blood was still plastered on the wall Ro had slid down, its bloody shine glinting at him; a reminder.
Gone.
Was it for the better? Mapicc thought about it. Would Ro forgive him? Probably not. Was it okay to kill him? No, not really.
Mapicc stared at the drying blood, then looked down at his own hands. Clean, they were, grinning happily back at him. He continued to stare.
Roshambo and Mapicc, Mapicc and Roshambo. Whatever the case, it was just Mapicc now.
Just Mapicc.
A flurry of footsteps echoed behind him, and Mapicc flinched at the sight of the intruder.
Well, he guessed there was Spoke, too.