Chapter Text
Death was an inevitable phase in life.
Something that not even wealth can bypass; no matter how much treatments it took, how much money was spent, money can’t overcome what was inevitable. Death doesn’t bat an eye towards someone’s financial status, it was all meaningless in the end. Neither could someone’s power override it, not even their reputation across the world can save them.
People consider dying old as a blessing, getting to live the world to its fullest, feeling every potential that grazed against their skin, but it was all worthless as death is something that is inevitable and will come, whether sooner or later.
Dumb wished he had suffered a bit sooner, maybe then he didn’t have to suffer that sharp feeling of hurt in his chest, the feeling of his ribs caving in on his heart, his sternum cramping his organs together as a way to crush it all and leave nothing behind. His chest felt tight, a never-ending wave of grief that he wished he didn’t have to go through before the inevitable overtook his body.
Having been so exposed to deaths made it normalised between the server, something that wasn’t uncommon to hear about every time he woke up from his slumber. A bittersweet syrup that was fed until he got used to it, something that just made sense, a cycle of life that repeated and will continue repeating until the end of time.
But after Stormz left him, a gear in his body changed— or maybe rather clogged. Something in his body switched off, a system malfunctioning almost completely as though it had always depended on Stormz to work— like a flower depending on the sun’s radiance to feed itself; once the sun was gone, the flower began wilting from the lack of nutrition, unable to provide food for itself.
Life felt meaningless after his best friend— the only person he genuinely cared for on the server— left him for someone else, someone better than him. He knew this was bound to happen, it was in Stormz’s bloodstream to do something as such, but he still risked it all.
Deep down, he was proud of him; proud that Stormz stood his ground and did what was best for him, happy that he is now where he belongs— but seeing him in glee with someone else other than him made his heart ache in a way he wished it didn’t. A throb of reminder that he wasn’t good enough and will never be fit for that description.
Ever since his only teammate left, his body kept rejecting every atom of food it got— hell, even liquid-based foods were a hard pill to swallow. Every time he tried to consume even the littlest bit of food, he’d heave over the toilet bowl for hours on end. Hallucinations overtook his senses; deafening him with the voice of Stormz, the smooth, confident and cocky voice echoing in the back of his mind. Visions of his best friend blurred into reality, an act of mockery towards his current state of mind.
What was weirder was that sometimes when he coughed especially hard, flowers petals would come out from his mouth; red that looked alike to blood, a deep crimson that imitated the sight of blood. It was almost like it was replacing it, blooming along his blood vessels and thriving off the coppery substance.
Everything in his body hurts; his nerves were screaming at him in agony, his stomach was begging for food to digest, weak from the lack of nutrition for the past seven days, his eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep— the vision of his friend haunted him, a certain scene replaying in his head and continued to do so in his dreams, he was never truly alone, not when his mind can conjure images that don’t exist. Something that was hyperrealistic, a sight that made him confused whether he was dreaming or he was living in real time.
Something rooted deeply in his chest, almost like grief was wrapping his organs with its vines, entwined with his blood vessels. A feeling that bloomed in his chest the more he thought about it, a mixture of regret and shame that he couldn’t be up to Stormz’s expectations, a silent sense of doubt that Stormz even saw him as anything more than a tool to begin with.
But the more he dwelled, the more he realised that he was overthinking it, that Stormz did care, that maybe it was best that they spent time apart more often.
Though, even with his feelings reassured and his nerves soothed, that ache never left. A throb that was just shy from being enough to break him down, but too little to actually cause a toll on his emotions. A pang of emotions that felt too short to last, passing by too quickly for him to feel at a sense of unease for a prolonged amount of time.
Dumb laid splayed over his own bed, blanket forgotten on the floor. He lay on his side, arms outstretched and focused elsewhere, or nowhere? He didn’t know. His body felt awfully warm, his head hurts just as much as his chest ached with grief.
His presence felt distant to even himself, soul detached from his body as he replayed moments between him and Stormz. He promised he wouldn’t dwell for long, he promised that his grief would subside easily, but he just couldn’t.
Eyes glazed over, almost glinting in the dark, catching the sliver of light that peaked shyly through the curtains of his room. Everything was a mess, nothing was organised even in his own room. Netherite armour laying on the ground, his signature shield thrown across the room, potions scattered across the floor, everything was messy and no energy could be mustered from him to clean his room.
His throat itched— something that not even his potions could bypass, an itch that stayed for as long as Dumb gave mind to it. Every time he forgot, he’d get that sudden urge to cough and that itch returns once more.
Consciousness slipped; he felt just as exhausted as every other day, despite being in bed and not doing anything that's considered ‘hard labor’.
Just as he was about to fade into sleep, Dumb sat up and folded over himself, throwing a coughing fit as he tried to soothe the itch in his throat. The need to clear his airways from something that felt like it was protruding had overridden his needs to sleep.
Crimson petals fell onto his palms, a distant taste of nectar on the back of his tongue— maybe there was still beauty in this. The smell on the other hand wasn’t too nice on the other hand; metallic and coppery, like pennies that had been soaked in rainwater for an extended period.
He coughed until he could feel himself close to heaving, finally hauling his legs under body with all his remaining energy, clumsily making his way to the bathroom, staggering onto his feet to at least puke in the toilet rather than on his bed where he rot and wilted— he had some decency remaining, at least.
Fumbling with the doorknob, he pushed it open weakly before his knees gave out, body weak from the lack of food. He dragged himself across the floor and gripped the toilet bowl, feeling the cool porcelain against his warm skin and hauling himself over the toilet bowl, barely able to avoid himself from toppling over and landing on the cold tiles.
A wave of nausea hit him, gagging over the toilet as he coughed, feeling the petals of the flowers rising up his throat as he heaved. The bile burned his throat, a stinging pain that brought tears to his eyes, wettening his cheeks with the remaining water he had left in his body. His stomach clenched, burning as though the acid was dissolving the walls of his internal organs.
Nothing but flowers came out from his body, purging the buds that thrived like a parasite, blooming in his body as though he was nothing but a mere host. Everything tasted sour and pungent, the taste of blood and bile filling his mouth— it’s not like he could eat anything else, not when his body refused every ounce of help he tried giving it.
Another wave hit him, crashing hard like a tsunami. Blood streaked around the toilet bowl, filling in the white with streaking red. The bathroom smelt like blood, a strong metallic that smelt pungent, a smell that couldn’t be ignored even if he tried to.
The world spun beneath Dumb; tiling and turning in all directions— he had never felt more disoriented before, a dizzying sense of confusion settling within the back of his mind as more crimson petals fell from his mouth, painting the toilet bowl with so much blood it could’ve been taken as a homicide.
His head felt light after everything that had happened— maybe because his body lacked the energy to stay conscious anymore. Every breath felt like it hurt, it felt like his chest was caving every time he tried to inhale, a crushing weight that prevented him from doing even the most basic movements.
Dumb felt the sudden need to tell Stormz what’s going on, he deserves to know the very least— even if he might not open the message. Maybe he’d ignore the call for help in favour of entertaining Dolphin with her shenanigans, maybe he’d spend more time with his new teammates.
He didn’t want to bother, but he needed to at least inform his acquaintance— for all he knew, he’d pass out and never wake up again. Nobody else needed to know, let it be something between them and them only, he didn’t like risking appearing weak in anyone else’s eyes, that’d just put him on a priority target list because of his fragileness.
Dizziness occupied his mind, everything tilted under his body, rotating in a way that it felt obnoxious. Confusion settled as he gave thought about the incident that happends— Stormz had left him for someone he swore to kill; a player that was nothing more than a power hungry tyrant. Someone they swore to kill together, someone they both vowed to not become.
In a way, he was blaming himself for it.
Blaming himself for Stormz’s leaving.
Blaming himself for being smitten to someone he knew was more power-driven than ever, someone that wouldn’t mind sacrificing one person if that meant he got what he yearned for— the status he worked oh-so hard to achieve.
Dumb could almost hear the apology that Stormz uttered, echoing in the back of his mind. Every word that spewed out of his mouth felt surreal— it felt like he managed to completely detach himself from everything, completely letting go— but in a way, he was beyond devastation.
But even so, Dumb couldn’t help but blame himself rather than blaming Stormz— sure, the choice of leaving or staying was in Stormz’s hands, but even the stupidest knew that teaming up with a fraud like Stormz was a losing game— though, that was in other people’s perspective, people who don’t bother understanding the type of person Stormz was— people that didn’t care enough, only viewing Stormz as a tool for their own good.
Dumb knew that Stormz tried his best to not let himself be too driven by status, refusing to let his needs override his senses, but they both knew it was inevitable and Stormz would one day succumb to his needs— the need to feel even the slightest ounce of usefulness. Dumb appreciated the effort put in, the thought process that Stormz gave for him, but nothing could prepare him for how much it ached.
He’d recently learned how to tune that thought out, letting it come and go freely rather than let it control his emotions. He learnt how to get comfortable around Stormz, he discovered how to let himself feel that sense of vulnerability with no sense of shame or guilt that veiled over his enjoyment.
Sure, they fought every once in a while, argued and bantered over the smallest reasons— but in the end, they made up and continued about their day in their secluded bases. spending time with Stormz and basking in the presence of his beloved friend without an ounce of care left for the world.
Gazing at the clouds, laying in the lush green carpet of moss as they made out shapes from the fluffiness, giggling and laughing as they pointed at each one. A cloud that looked like a dragon in particular— it reminded Dumb of Stormz in a way, maybe that animal just suited his characteristics.
Holding each other’s hands as they walked, striding in the forest and inhaling the fresh air outside— Dumb would always stop by a random flower field and stay there for an extended period before Stormz nudged him to go back to their base. He’d always pluck at least one out, picked out from the prettiest ones and placed the flower in Stormz’s hair, tucked behind his ear. He always thought flowers suited him, and in a way, it did.
Cuddling in each other’s arms, wrapped in one another’s warmth, ignorant of whatever was happening in the outside world. Stormz would curl into Dumb’s embrace, seeking for that warmth that he yearned for, holding him as though he’d leave— which was ironic, considering that Stormz was the one who left in the end.
Nights where Stormz would wake up in a panic, sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, breathing erratic and uneven as though he had run a marathon. His pupils were dilated from both the lack of light and ‘fight or flight’ response his body activated. With drowsiness still veiling his consciousness, Dumb would cradle him once more and coo him back to sleep reassuring him that he was there and wouldn’t leave even if he benefitted more from leaving than staying, holding him gently in his arms until Stormz finally calmed down.
He patiently waited for him to unscramble his mind from whatever thought that scattered throughout, holding his face close to his chest as tears streaked down Stormz’s cheeks, staining his face with a trail of salty tears. Dumb found himself wishing that he could dig more into Stormz’s mind, beyond what he would tell him— but he valued Stormz’s comfort. He’d rather have him unveil everything willingly rather than being forced into an overwhelming spot of vulnerability.
Selflessly, Dumb thought that maybe this wave of grief will end, maybe he’ll realise that he’s being awfully dramatic— it’s not like it was the end of the world, all that happened was he lost his friend, and that was bound to happen one day as much as he didn’t want it to. He could still see Stormz if he wanted to, albeit not as a teammate but rather an acquaintance, the best friend he used to see had dissipated long ago, maybe before Stormz left, even.
But it didn’t, not that it lasted for long before it overtook his whole body, shutting down each system one by one, and now his respiratory systems were shutting down. The lack of oxygen made everything feel dizzying, a sense where he was no longer lucid, rather in a never-ending state of confusion and disorientation from the lack of oxygen.
The grief of loss rooted deep within, blooming as flowers that represented his own death. A pungent taste on his tongue that he couldn’t wash off, the bitter and sour taste of regret lingering for a prolonged time period.
Dumb typed out a quick message, a short call for help; a distress message, filled with hope that maybe, something in Stormz might snap and bring him back to Dumb. Maybe Stormz might embrace him in his arms once more.
Maybe, just maybe, the Stormz he knew was still there, still holding the gentle care in his hands, something left to spare after the fight he onslaught. A small sense of faith lingered within, something that never left him, a slight hint of hope that he still yearned for Dumb in the same way.
But all hopes for him surviving for long shattered as he wretched over the cool porcelain once more, blood spilling from his mouth and trailing down his chin, flower petals coughed out, bright crimson painting the dim bathroom. Distantly, he can hear himself whimpering in pain, a stabbing pain in his abdomen, the dizziness and sharp pang in his head that throbbed just as much as his heart— he felt drowsy, consciousness slipping from his grasp.
His airways felt constricted— breathing in was hard, and every breath tasted weird, it left a small sweet taste on the back of his tongue.
He wanted to scream, to cry, but his body was exhausted from its remaining energy. He toppled over the toilet, laying on his side as he lay on the cool tiles— it was oddly cold, a cold that seeped within his bones, the disappearance of his warmth was noticeable. His lungs felt oh-so tight, as if the chest cavity was closing in on him, leaving no room for him to breathe.
Maybe he was dying, maybe he wouldn’t be able to cradle Stormz in his arms once more.