Chapter Text
Being trapped in a stone cage with mining fatigue and guards surveilling him 24/7 is not how Wemmbu would choose to start his day, ideally.
Sure, he has a knack of achieving things other people rarely did, but ending up probably the second ever prisoner in The Law’s solitary confinement cell was definitely not an achievement he’d particularly wanted in the first place.
The cell is bare, save for a half-deflated mattress lying in the corner… And literally nothing else. A dent cracks the far wall, faint scratches littering the block where Wemmbu had clawed at it. With mining fatigue, the lines scored into stone were barely even visible.
He’s escaped Proton, gotten out of Clown’s stupid escape room – and this ten-by-ten stone brick of a cell is what gets him?
This is stupid, Wemmbu thinks. “This is stupid,” Wemmbu says.
A laugh sounds somewhere near him, not cruel but not particularly kind, either. “Really? I think my builders did a pretty good job with it, actually, considering you’re still here.”
“Meh. Ken’s was cooler,” Wemmbu comments idly, watching the warden pearl through the bars of his cell, instead of opening the door like a normal person. “Like… Breaking news, LettuceK has his most valuable prisoner trapped in a boring cube. Brutalist architecture isn’t really my thing, you know?”
“Mm. I’d say practicality is more useful than aesthetics.” Lettuce rolls his eyes, taking off his helmet. “Okay, Wemmbu. Hands.”
Wemmbu scowls, tail lashing as Lettuce approaches him. “What, scared of me? There’s no way you need to shackle me to a goddamn wall every time you breathe within fifteen feet of me—”
The warden just gives him a look. “Hands, Wemmbu,” he orders, in a tone that leaves no room for argument. The light catches on a neat array of lingering harming potions at Lettuce’s hip, more of a show of power than anything else.
Wemmbu looks away. After a pause, he reluctantly offers his hands, palms up. Silent.
Lettuce sighs, more tired than anything, and Wemmbu hears the other rummage through his inventory. “There. Was that so hard?”
He stays still as Lettuce secures heavy cuffs onto his wrists, hands digging into Lettuce’s wrists just ever so slightly, just to feel him flinch away from the scrape of his claws. Wemmbu allows himself a small, satisfied grin.
“You’re such an annoyance,” Lettuce grumbles under his breath, withdrawing his hands like he’d been burned.
“You’re executing me within the week, no?” Wemmbu comments lightly, watching Lettuce unspool a length of chain and shackle him to the wall. “Gotta leave my mark where I can.”
“Right. Your signature move of being as much of an inconvenience as possible.”
“That’s me.”
The warden laughs, stepping back to toss him his meal. “Good thing in seven days I won’t have to see you and deal with any of this anymore. You are so incredibly tiring to maintain.”
Wemmbu shrugs, looking down at the bread Lettuce tossed him with mild disdain. He stretches his wings uncomfortably in the cuffs. “Or, you can let me go now and spare yourself a week of this,” he offers.
“Tempting, but no, thank you.”
“Aw.” Wemmbu continues to stare at the bread with a grimace. “Dude. Do you not have better food? This bread has got to, like, predate some of the people on this server. How do you even make it this rock hard? Soak it in cement?”
Lettuce has the galls to look offended. “Hey, the people of the Law put effort into making this. It’s nutritious.”
“I’d rather eat bricks.”
“You’re free to eat bricks. I’ll take the bread away if you don’t want it.” Lettuce crosses his arms, and Wemmbu notices a flash of purple tucked in the other’s cape.
“Mhm, nah, I’m good,” Wemmbu returns absentmindedly, because he knows — has to know — that little purple box anywhere.
So that’s where his communicator went.
If he could just get Lettuce to come closer…
An idea strikes him, so sudden that he has to lean against the wall and pin his tail behind his back to stop it from giving him away.
“You know, I think I deserve better food, at least for today,” Wemmbu starts conversationally. He can’t move too suddenly. “You did humiliate me in front of thousands of people. And I cooperated!”
“You tried to bite Loppezz. And escape.” Lettuce was also looking very bite-able right now. And robbable.
“She was asking for it, and you caught me anyway,” Wemmbu grumbles, eyes glued to Lettuce’s cape. “Fine, whatever. I mostly cooperated. At least in front of all those people, which was arguably the most important part. Happy?"
Lettuce hums. “That’s true. I agree, you were decently docile during that. Well. Up until we had to leave.”
“I already- dude, you got me anyway. Let’s not talk about that part.”
“Okay.” Lettuce sighs. “I’m willing to overlook those incidents as long as you behave from this point onward, understand?”
Wemmbu rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I will, oh my god.”
“Excellent.”
“Anyway.” Wemmbu waves his hand impatiently, eyes still trained on the communicator. “As I was saying, can I have better food? Even death row prisoners get better meals than this.” He thinks. “Wait, am I technically a death row prisoner, then?”
Lettuce seems to actually consider his question. “Yeah. You are going to die in exactly seven days, if I win the election, which means…”
“Which means I should get some better food,” Wemmbu negotiates, leaning closer.
I’m pretty tempted to poison you right about now,” Lettuce notes with a hint of exasperation, shaking his head. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll see if I have any golden carrots I can donate.”
“My heart just swells at your generosity,” Wemmbu drones, watching the other flick through his inventory. “Thank you, LettuceK.”
“Okay. Do me a favour and never say that again,” Lettuce grimaces, scowling at the prisoner. He holds out about a quarter stack of food. “Here’s your carrots.”
Wemmbu lifts his cuffed hands, eyebrows raised.
“Oh my god, dude. You’re not immobile.”
“You’re the one who chained me to a wall,” Wemmbu retorts, shifting so he positions himself right in front of Lettuce’s belt.
Lettuce seems unaware, only scoffing as he bends down to hand Wemmbu the golden carrots. “Fine, whatev—”
Before the warden can react, Wemmbu lunges forward, pulling Lettuce forward by the cape.
He goes down with a shout of surprise, and — holy hells — at least twelve guards lunge out of the walls, swords drawn.
Wemmbu quickly frees his communicator from the folds of Lettuce’s cape, unlatching it from his belt.
He takes two of his potions of harming as well, keeping them in hand while he slips the communicator in his sleeve and out of sight.
“Why the hell, dude,” Lettuce laughs, pulling him back to the floor by his chains. There’s a gleam in his eyes, focused and angry, but none of it shows on his face. “That was stupid.”
Wemmbu is virtually thrown across the floor – one of the potions he took shatters on impact, particles exploding in his face in a hazy blur of pain. For good measure, he tosses the other at Lettuce’s feet, even as blood soaks into the glass shards.
Three guards pin him to the ground. One holds a sword at his throat. None of them find his communicator.
Lettuce just steps back, pulling out a golden apple with a faint frown. His boots scuff in the glass shards, watching the dissipating potion particles with an unimpressed air. “Really? That was it? What was the point of that?”
Wemmbu sits up, coughing the mist from his lungs. His nose was probably bleeding, too — he wipes the blood off with the sleeve of his obnoxiously orange jumpsuit. “I felt like it.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Lettuce turns, dismissing his guards with a wave. “Whatever. That was dumb, anyway.”
“Well, what are you gonna do?” Wemmbu challenges. “Put me in solitary squared?”
Lettuce just snorts. “Nah, I’ll figure out what to do with you in the morning, since you’re so adamant on getting yourself killed. If you try anything, I swear I’m gonna have your head on a pike.”
“Can’t promise anything. You know this cell can’t hold me forever, right?”
“I’m sure. Goodnight, Wemmbu.” The warden glances back before leaving. “You know what? You can also keep the cuffs.”
“Wow. Thanks, you’re so- you’re so kind.”
“Be grateful you got off easy.” The smile is gone from the other’s face, pleasantries dissipating into something cold. “If I was any more kind, I’d have fed you the last harming potion, too.”
The door clicks shut behind Lettuce, lights flickering out on cue.
Wemmbu exhales, shifting — and wincing, as glass shards dig into his back — until he can drag himself on top of the mattress. He slowly uncovers the communicator, tucked under one of his wings.
He quickly flew to type out a message: before any escape attempt, any plan, he had to make sure of one thing.
You whisper to Eggchan: yo dude are you good
You whisper to Eggchan: has the law been after you or anything??
He receives a response almost immediately.
Eggchan whispers to you: ya im good i dont think they care
Eggchan whispers to you: wbu bro????? I heard you’re getting executed????
…Right. That.
You whisper to Eggchan: long story
You whisper to Eggchan: i’ll explain to you later
You whisper to Eggchan: but i’ll be okay
Eggchan whispers to you: don’t die
Wemmbu hesitates.
You whisper to Eggchan: i won’t
He leans back against the wall of his cell, exhaling slightly. Now, onto the… More difficult part of all of this.
He lifts his hands to his communicator and chooses to message exactly three people.
/msg FlameFrags
/msg Jaden_MAN
/msg Boosfer
…If any of them would even show up, it’d be a goddamned miracle.
To be perfectly honest, Flame doesn’t really know why he’s doing all of this.
Really, he has no reason to come to a suspicious set of coordinates to break his rival out of prison, but honestly? He doesn’t really want to see that guy get executed, as annoying as he is.
And he can’t sleep. So, solo rescue missions weren’t really usually his thing, but—
Flame reaches for his enderchest, jolting when he brushes against someone else’s arm instead.
Instantly his netherite sword is in hand, as he lunges forward to slot the blade neatly into where the intruder’s neck should be. There’s a gasp as his sword digs in, pinning the other to the ground in one effortless motion.
“Holy crap, dude, chill–” comes a wheeze from underneath Flame, with a voice that is unfortunately astoundingly familiar.
Flame freezes, lowering his sword slightly. “Jaden-?”
The still-invisible Jaden freezes, stiffening upon hearing Flame’s voice. “Wh- Flame? What are you doing here?”
“Bro, I should be asking you that,” Flame hisses back. He looks around – both of them are just standing on some random rooftop – if either of them put their armour back on, at least three of the guards in their proximity would be instantly alerted to their presence.
Fortunately, Jaden seems to recognize the situation as well, making no move to equip his armour. “Well- I came here to help out… Someone. I didn’t think you’d…”
Flame rolls his eyes, before realising he was invisible, and, even if Jaden could see him, he had a blindfold on anyway. “Whatever, bro. I’m here to break someone out as well. So if you’d excuse me–”
“Are you also here for Wemmbu?”
Everything in Flame’s brain comes to a screeching halt. “Wh- also? Bro, what?”
“I mean… Yeah? Wemmbu sent you coords, right?” Jaden shifts under him, wincing. “Hold on- can you let me up?”
So maybe not a solo rescue mission, then. Internally, Flame curses Wemmbu for everything he did leading him up to this moment.
“...Fine. I still hate you, though,” Flame adds hurriedly, scowling as he withdraws his sword. As soon as Jaden sits up, he splashes both of them with invis. Flame just watches, arms crossed. “I swear to god, if you try anything–”
Jaden sighs. “I’m just here for Wemmbu, bro, relax. We can- settle our beef after this, or something. Believe me, I would not have come if I knew you were gonna be here.”
“The feeling is mutual, bro.” Flame laughs, somewhat incredulous. A little hysterical, really. “I thought you hated Wemmbu.”
Even with both of them invisible, Flame can feel the look Jaden gives him. “Well, it’s complicated. I don’t know.” A hand pokes Flame in the shoulder, curious. “I thought you hated him, too.”
“Eh. I don’t want him, like, dead.” Flame shifts uncomfortably, looking through his enderchest — maybe for an answer to this fever dream of a jailbreak mission. “So, what were you…?”
“Well, Wemmbu sent me these coords exactly, and I assume he also sent them to you,” Jaden hums. A trident glimmers into existence, and, though Flame tenses, Jaden only swivels it around to tap the butt of it against the stone. “Exactly… Here. I think his cell is right below us?”
Flame frowns. “Probably, like, far below. He said most of the prison is below ground, I think.”
“Can’t we just… Mine our way in, then?”
“Okay, it cannot be that easy, bro.” Flame flicks his tail in displeasure, nearly slapping Jaden in the face. “There has to be some kind of catch, or else Wemmbu would’ve gotten his sorry purple ass out of this shoddy prison already.”
Jaden huffs, though it sounds more like an attempt to cover up his laugh. “I mean, there’s a lot of guards all around.”
“Wemmbu can take on a couple guards, surely,” Flame scoffs.
“Try, like, a hundred.”
“…Okay, yeah, he’s kinda cooked.”
“Is this like, an invis frat party or something? Because, god, you guys yap so much.” Another voice pipes up. This time both Flame and Jaden turn, weapons in hand.
Boosfer stands in front of them, decked out in full netherite, blinding green trims, and his signature smug grin planted firmly on his face. “What’s up, boys? What’s with the… Uh…” He gestures at the trident and sword jammed at him.
Jaden stirs as if about to reply, but Flame beats him to it. “If you say you’re here for Wemmbu I’m going to genuinely kill you, bro.”
Boosfer raises his hands placatingly. “Nooo,” he defends. “I’m here for another remarkable purple guy. His cousin. Um. William Afton?”
Flame slowly introduces his hand to his face, muffling a groan in his sleeve.
“I’m assuming you two know each other, too,” Jaden pipes up, sounding incredibly amused. The trident he holds slowly lowers, the only indication of where the pirate is.
“I thought I was gonna be Wemmbu’s lone saviour, but I must’ve been misled. Or, he sent me the wrong coords,” Boosfer continues, eyebrows raised.
“Why are you here, bro-?” Flame splutters, finally lowering his hand to stare at Boosfer. He waves his sword around frustratedly. “I thought Wemmbu hated you, too. Like, he fully wanted you dead like a month ago, bro.”
Boosfer grins. “That was a month ago! And also I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re best friends.” He produces a lead. “Also, I have a cow.”
There is, indeed, a cow behind Boosfer. It trots forward mildly, letting out an eloquent moo. The nametag reads Toyota.
“There is just genuinely no way, bro.” Flame wants to laugh. Or cry. Or stab Boosfer.
“Well, looks like we’ll just have to deal with it for now,” Jaden sighs. He sounds equally despairing and simultaneously entertained by Flame’s visible anguish.
Nope. No. Flame is adding Jaden to the to-be-stabbed list, as soon as they break Wemmbu out of that god-forsaken jail.
“You’re not even invis, Boosfer,” Flame hisses, scanning the rooftops. “What- okay, wait, how is no one—”
Boosfer shrugs cheerfully. “I knocked some of them out. And stole their shield.”
“…Okay,” Jaden says slowly. “Is this still going to be a stealth mission, then? I’m pretty good at stealth, but…” he gestures vaguely at Flame, ignoring the murderous look he receives.
“Flame can deal with it,” Boosfer says cheerfully, waving him off. “Anyone got buckets?”
The question is startling enough it jolts Flame out of his indignant simmering, at least for the time being. He stares at Boosfer. “Uh- yeah, I guess.” He tosses the other about half a stack of iron, still looking mildly confused.
“Thanks. I can make, like, four buckets for each of us, then,” Boosfer hums.
“What do we need buckets for, bro?” Flame snaps, crossing his arms. Boosfer hands him four buckets. Flame takes them.
Jaden just stares at Flame, and he has the innate sense he is being made fun of. “You know… Elder guardians?”
“Elder- oh.” Flame looks down at Toyota the cow. A cow, for milk. “Ohhhhh.”
Boosfer sighs, loudly. “Looks like I’m with idiot.”
“Okay, shut up.”
“That’s not very nice,” the other gasps in mock offence. “Can I get an ‘oh please, Boosfer’ from you or are you too posh for that?”
“No. Because you’re annoying,” Flame snaps.
Jaden, who has been busy organising shulkers, barks out a laugh. “I hate to agree, but. Yeah.”
“Oh, shush. If I wasn’t here, how are you guys going to break in with mining fatigue? Sit here for three days mining stone?” When neither Jaden nor Flame say anything, Boosfer crosses his arms in smug satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”
“We’re getting off topic here,” Flame snaps. Though he’s still invisible, small wisps of smoke are starting to drift from him. “Let’s just shut up and get Wemmbu, bro. I didn’t even wanna do this.”
“If you don’t wanna do it, you can just leave,” Jaden says pointedly.
“No.”
Boosfer laughs. “Holy cow, dude, how many people do you even have beef with? That’s crazy. I don’t think either of us want you here, not gonna lie.”
Flame grits his teeth, refocusing on the stone tiles beneath his feet. “Let’s just go, bro. Whatever.”