Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hurts.

A throbbing sensation can be felt from inside Tango's brain, groaning at the pain as he opens his sticky eyelids. It's the only thing he can focus on. He takes a few slow blinks to clear his vision, only to gape at the situation in front of him, welcoming the distraction.

From the leftmost corner is Skizz, facing the wall while baby talking at the picture of a dog, moving his fingers as if trying to scratch under its chin with a big smile on his face. Moving his gaze to the central part of the room, he spots Impulse laying on the floor with a blissful look on his face, cuddling towards the same dog Skizz was supposed to be petting. Lastly, he furrows his brows at the sight of Zed on all fours, crunching on food at the dog bowl of all things.

As he's about to stand up from the floor (since when did that happen), his eyes blow wide at the most excruciating feeling of his life. Immediately flinching, he grits his teeth and keeps his body as still as possible, releasing a whimper once his muscles twitch involuntarily. His arms hurt (both natural and otherwise). His back hurt. His legs hurt. His head hurt. His body feels foreign and unfamiliar from how his nerves are being set ablaze when he dares to move even a molecule of his entire being, trying to breathe.

Why is he hurting all over?

What is going on?

Fading into the distance from the enclosed and cool copper spaces are long and winding hallways that seem to enjoy the sights of its victims getting lost from its barren clutches. The scenery makes him nauseous. Despite its eerily pristine appearance, the ceiling is threatening to close in on him as if it's about to collapse at any second, twisting Tango's stomach into a knot at the intrusive thought.

His attention snaps to the noises nearby.

Screams of various pitches and lengths fill the geometric room, mixed with groans and rattles and whooshing as a burst of wind hits his back, releasing a very manly screech once he feels the air being knocked out of him. In an instant, he's flying to the other side of the cramped room directly towards a gurgling zombie, swinging his sword to save himself at the last second.

That was… too close for comfort.

With a frantic huff, he caresses his drumming chest, bending towards his knees to plant his other hand and catches his breath.

From the other side of the wall, he can hear the chaos unfolding without him, if Skizz's shrieks are anything to go by. More explosions can be heard as every noise forms into a cacophony, preventing him from fully grasping the situation.

“WHAT'S UP!”

“Oh, my goodness! No!”

“Zed! Don't bring him to me!”

“I can't help it!”

“Get the hell AWAY FROM ME!”

“No, no, no, no, no!”

“You JERK!”

“Help me!”

“AUGH!”

“Tango!”

The screamathon snaps him out of his thoughts, tightening his grip on his sword before running towards his friends. His hair swirls behind him as he gulps and runs, leaving behind a few fleeting sparks of greenish blaze with every hastened step, contrasting the usual vibrant yellow.

They're gonna be in the trial chambers for a while.

The soft breeze brushing against his skin accompanied by the background music of nature finally eases the tense nerves, along with the adrenaline that was fueling his body with power while they challenged the newly discovered trial chambers. It was utter chaos. True to its name, they're really tricky to beat. And he's sure glad that he's finally out of that ridiculous place that's constantly hammering him with new sensations, deteriorating his mind into a spinning mess.

With a deep sigh of relief, Tango relishes himself with the dull and mundane action of dividing the loot between his friends, which is a huge welcome in his book at the moment. After that mess earlier, he is just enjoying the peaceful bubble enveloping the grassy plain by Skizz's place, where they gathered to organize their messy inventories better.

His blond locks dance with the gentle wind, closing his eyes to focus on the conversation between his friends as they argue about nonsensical stuff that he can't bother to process, simply satisfied to listen to their voices and embrace himself with their warm presence.

It's a weird feeling to perceive the world with a hazy lens. It's like drifting with the waves, trusting it to decide his journey for him as he allows its movements to guide him.

“Earth to Tango.”

Jumping at the sudden calling of his name, he snaps his attention towards the source of the voice, only to see three of his friends’ gazes boring into his soul. He lets his confusion known with furrowed brows.

“What?” Tango questions.

“You're not even listening!” Skizz squawks.

“I am!” Tango retorts.

“Oh, yeah?” Skizz raises a brow with a smirk. “What did I say just now?”

Shoot.

“Uh…” Tango says intelligently, shifting his gaze in front of him while looking for something to provide him with answers.

“See? And you call me a slacker.” Skizz scoffs in disbelief. “You better take that back, you jerk.” He points an accusatory finger towards Tango's direction.

Now it's his turn to smirk.

“Face it, Skizz. All you did earlier was scream your butt off like it was on fire.” Tango taunts lightheartedly.

“It was! Shut up!” Skizz's face turns into a strawberry at how red he is.

Tango's lips quiver as he tries not to break his demeanor, while Impulse and Zed don't hesitate to express their amusement with their signature chuckles, covering their mouths as if it'll hide anything.

“This is really serious, man. Stop fooling around.” Skizz tries to reason.

“Okay? What is this very important thing you wanna show us, buddy?” Tango obliges with crossed arms.

“Apparently, the gibberish symbols carved behind the discs’ labels carry some sort of cryptic message for future generations.” Impulse intercepts.

Beside the brunet, Zed hums while caressing his hand over the gold label of an oxidized disc.

“To be fair, it is an interesting take on the mysterious ancient writing system of this world.” Zed comments solemnly. “However, no one has ever deciphered these, so there's no way to prove whether Skizz is saying something smart for once or it's the usual nonsense.”

“Hey!” Skizz squawks while Zed giggles. “Wait, there's not one person who was curious enough to try and understand those symbols inside the enchantment table? Seriously?”

Tango perks up at the conversation, finally catching up to what they are saying and opens his mouth, ready to contribute to their discussion.

“Oh, you mean those nonsense phrases that don't relate to the actual enchantments whatsoever?” Tango shares. “What were our ancestors thinking when they built that? They should at least write something more decent than saying random stuff that probably came out of someone's mouth while drunk.”

All eyes snap to Tango again, flinching at the piercing attention as he fidgets with his hands.

“Wh-What are you staring at?” He stammers, feeling suddenly uncomfortable while his slick back strands gradually shift into a gradient of yellow and green flames.

“You're telling me you knew this whole time.” Skizz gapes. “And you didn't bother to tell anyone else?”

“No? Pearl interpreted them for me before. What's the big deal?”

“Oh, my goodness.” Zed groans while facepalming.

“Alright! Time for us to head to Pearlypop's place. Right now!” Skizz stands to his full height, both hands holding onto the green, orange, and gray discs.

“We can't disturb her! She worked until stupid o'clock yesterday and is probably still asleep right now.” Tango hurriedly hoists himself and stands in front of the tall man with arms spread to the sides.

“Yeah, man. Your questions can wait. She needs her rest.” Impulse agrees from behind him.

“No dice!” Skizz slips the large discs under his armpit and pulls out the rockets with his free hand. “I'll make it up to her in the future. For now, I need for this itch to be scratched or I'll never get it done with how scatterbrained I am.”

Tango huffs in defeat, “Don't say I didn't warn you, man. Go get your butt kicked or something.” He steps aside.

“Don't worry about it.” Skizz waves his hand with a rocket dismissively.

Besides the swooshing of the greenery around the area, the air is eerily still. It's so quiet that Tango won't be surprised if he can hear a pin drop right this instant. Glancing to his sides, he can see his friends averting their gazes from ahead as much as possible. As he moves to the front, red eyes meet icy blue, causing a chill to run down his spine at the familiar pressure.

He feels as if he's prey waiting for the inevitable as the predator is playing with its food, enjoying seeing it squirm from underneath its hungry gaze. The same gut-wrenching sensation brings him back to a scenery of a woman donning a crimson cloak, leaving behind a trail of bones from her wolf army's leftovers as she marches the land, hunting to feed her loyal companions.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he grounds himself back to the present. He's not in that place anymore. He's safe in his home with his friends. He doesn't need to worry about limited lives and surviving. At least, that's what he's hoping for. Moving his eyes back to Pearl's (since when did he avert them), he searches for something—anything.

As if to answer his prayer, the brunet's tense shoulders sag, sighing deeply as she massaged the bridge of her nose, easing his agitated nerves.

“You're telling me you woke me up this early in the morning to… read the galactic letters on the enchantment table.” Pearl deadpans.

“It’s not—” Skizz opens his mouth. “Now that you say it out loud, it really made me sound like a horrible friend.” He deflates.

“I don't really mind you coming to me for help, but I was hoping it would be a decent time where my grouchiness wouldn't affect the vibe, you know?” Pearl twirls with one of her side bangs. “But now that you're here, the brain exercise will surely wake me up properly, so feel free to ask anything.” She adds with a soft smile.

The change in the fellow Hermit’s demeanor causes the men to relax their tense muscles, feeling relieved of being spared from facing the wrath of the grumpy builder.

Impulse nudges Skizz with an elbow, Tango watches the events unfold as the tall man stumbles forward and almost trips on his own feet as he hands the oxidized disc, with Pearl accepting it with careful hands.

“Seriously, sorry about the intrusion, Pearlypop.” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “I was just so excited to ask you, that I ignored Top's advice earlier. I'll make it up to you next time, I promise.” He adds with a determined look.

“Don't worry about it, man. Sorry for overreacting earlier.” Pearl smiles sheepishly. “So! Is this one of the new discs I keep hearing about?” She inspects the object with awe.

“Sure is!” Skizz grins ear to ear. “It was actually a loot from an Ominous Vault and after our little adventure, our conversation kind of derailed to the random symbols behind the discs being cryptic messages for future generations.” He elaborates enthusiastically.

Skizz's words go in Tango's ear and out of the other as the scarred man shares more about his thoughts and opinions about his theory, providing ‘evidence’ towards Pearl while the said woman is silently nodding her head, a clear indicator that she's listening to every word he has said.

For someone who just woke up, she sure is attentive. Probably because of the enticing mystery that's been handed to her on a silver platter. He can only smile silently as he waits for the rant to end, content to sit back and watch.

“If you look at the scribbles at the label behind the disc, you can see the length, right?” Skizz continues while Pearl flips the object at the same time. “See the length over here? I'm ninety-five percent sure that it's a sentence, hence why I told these nincompoops—” He points his thumb behind him towards the rest of the team with a frown, making Zed snicker from underneath his sleeved arm covering his mouth. “—that it was a message. What do you think?”

“I think it's a really cool theory—”

“You see? I was right!” Skizz intercepts as he mocks the Hermits behind him, causing a wave of boos thrown towards his way, including a few snide comments Tango shares nonchalantly.

“—and your ideas are interesting as well, so I was very invested in the topic.” Pearl comments approvingly.

She moves her gaze down at the golden label, her blue eyes moving left to right for a few seconds before stopping suddenly.

Pearl gasps.

Fall is quickly leaving.

Incomprehensible murmurs fill the chilly air as Tango walks along the gravel path, shivering as he puffs a few warm breaths to his organic hand before stopping in front of the illuminated entrance of his destination. Looking up from his appendage, he spots Impulse entering before closing his crimson umbrella, sheathing it to his belt like a sword.

“Hey, Tango!” Impulse waves with a bright smile, exposing his sharp fangs. “Is it just us so far?”

“Nah, I think Skizz and Zed are already inside when they messaged me earlier.” Tango shakes his hand, feeling light but misses the phantom movement of his now absent bushy beard.

Alas, he has to shave it off in favor of ‘hygiene’, according to his friends. To be fair, he did find a few bits buried in it, including a stone button and a shopping list that he thought he lost a few months back.

Okay, maybe trimming it was a good idea.

For now.

He'll have to wait for at least a year to have his glorious facial hair back, though.

“Man, it's really weird that I don't have that weight on my jaws anymore.” Tango cringes as he pats his now clean chin with his mechanical hand, following Impulse's lead as they go inside.

Impulse chuckles, “It's one of the most amazing decisions we made as a group, in my opinion. The beard's gonna go, man. It's worse than Joe's, and even he has a reputation of dangling random stuff on it.”

“You're just jerks who hate seeing people happy.” Tango crosses his arms with a frown. “Namely me.”

“At least you're allowed to grow it back afterwards.” Impulse sighs quietly. “If I tried to do that, I would never hear the end of it from my clan.”

“That sucks. Why do vampires still stick to old traditions, anyway? Your family is so stuck-up.” Tango cringes. “No offense.” He quickly adds.

“It's true, though.” Impulse's shoulders slump. “I wish they won't be so arrogant with their superiority towards other Overworld races anymore. It doesn't change the fact that we're still similar to everyone else apart from our superpowered physical prowess, but they acted as if they descended from Notch himself.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better…” Tango jogs to the blond's side with a grin. “...you don't have to worry about being lumped in the same way as them. At least for tonight ‘cause Skizz will never let you go until you're completely blacked out!” He spreads his arms to showcase the noisy dining hall behind him for emphasis.

Impulse’s crimson eyes glow from the lamps lighting up the large room, gaping in surprise before curling his lips into a genuine smile.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Impulse voices out sincerely.

Tango mirrors the expression without hesitation.

“Don't get your hopes up about having a good night, though.” Tango giggles while placing both fists to his sides. “I won't be surprised if you'll suddenly wake up with the worst headache of your life while staring at the most ridiculous scenery in the world.”

“Cool. Thanks!”

A cool touch lands on Tango's shoulder, jumping violently in surprise as he turns to see Zed laughing his butt off, alongside Skizz who's doing the same but a hundred times louder.

“You son of a—butt nugget!” Tango wheezes as he caresses his chest with a trembling organic hand.

He doesn't think it's possible, but it turns out Skizz can actually laugh harder than he already has.

Jerk.

“You should've seen the look on your ugly face!” Zed’s azure eyes narrow from his grin.

“I literally just heard your brain saying ‘stop’!” Skizz clutches his stomach, blond locks jerking along with his movement while pristine white wings are vibrating behind him. “You're a real piece of work, Top.”

“Shut your face.” Tango grumbles. “At least tell me you reserved us seats instead of fooling around.”

“I did! Shut up!” Skizz roars. “I can do whatever I want, thank you very much. You should all be grateful for my amazing presence.”

“Say that after you finish ten tankards first, without hammering might I add.” Tango smirks.

Skizz suddenly stops all movement, going still as a statue before dramatically standing straight to fully face Tango.

“Is that a challenge?” Skizz raises a brow.

“Depends on you, unless you're a total wimp.” Tango shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Oh! You're so on!” Skizz grins ear to ear, sprinting away towards an unoccupied table.

“Hey! You cheated!” Tango whines as he follows up, grabbing a mug the instant he arrives and chugs the liquid in one go.

“You snooze, you lose, little man!” Skizz slams an empty one to the wooden surface before moving on to the next.

Tango ignores the teasing joke as he continues to focus on his drink, feeling as if he's about to vomit from how full and heavy his stomach is. The more he chugs, the more his gut is weighing him down, panting vigorously between tankards as if it'll help ease the dizzying sensation.

For some reason, the barkeeper silently brings more beer to their table despite none of them uttering a new order. Skizz must've told them in advance, anticipating a drinking contest long before Tango and Impulse arrived.

Good!

That way, Skizz won't have to whine after he loses.

With a slam of his empty mug towards the table, he announces his triumph with a grin, ignoring the fact that his cheeks are already starting to grow warm.

“Oh, Skizz. What was that about you winning earlier?” Tango cups his mechanical hand behind an ear as he mocks, taking in the sight of the blond's purple eyes gradually widening in disbelief. “Who's the loser now, huh?”

“Wait till the next round, you jerk! I'm gonna mop the floor with you so badly, you're gonna cry to Impulse's arms after this is over.” Skizz declares with a dark tone, eyes burning with determination.

“Hey! What did you include me for?” Impulse complains from the side.

“So? Will this be a best out of five thing or what?” Tango leans back on his seat.

“Sure.” Skizz shrugs. “Zeddlebop, you decide what the next challenge is.” He nods his head towards the said brunet's direction.

“Let's make this more interesting, shall we?” Zed stands, leaning forward as he places both palms on the furniture. “What if Impulse and I join in on the fun?”

“What?” Impulse exclaims.

“That way, no one will know for sure who wins, considering how good Impulse's bladder is as well.” Zed smirks. “And! All of us will be having fun instead of waiting here, doing nothing. What do you say?”

“I don't have a problem with that.” Tango nods approvingly. “But what about the part where we go home, though? Won't we all be so wrecked to traverse properly?”

“That's where Etho comes in!” Skizz chimes in. “We also invited him earlier, and he should be here any minute now. While we wait, let's start with round two!”

“Oh, man. I'm gonna regret this in the morning, aren't I?” Impulse buries his head in his hands with a weak groan. “Sure, why not? It's a rare occurrence for us to simply fool around like this, so I'll take what I can get.” He sighs as he uncovers his smiling face.

The three of them cheer in their seats at the affirmation and immediately, the four of them brainstorm what the next four or so challenges might be. Of course, whoever blacks out first is obviously disqualified and instantly loses, and they'll continue to drink until they declare someone a winner or it's a last man standing kind of situation.

After all, they can't guarantee if their bodies will surrender first or not.

Once the planning session is over, the four of them instantly grab their respective drinks and after giving each other their confident expressions, they begin with round two.

Empty tankards are discarded on the table. Some have even rolled to the floor with how massive the quantity is. While Tango gulps his next drink, he spots Zed laughing his butt off for no reason while Impulse is embracing the other with one arm as he chugs a beer with the other. Since when can he use teleportation and arrive there?

He furrows his brows, wondering why he can't feel the liquid entering his throat despite continuously gulping. As he parts with the container, he finds it empty and places it with the others, gasping as he accidentally swipes the ones in front of him to the side, falling to the ground with various clanking.

Once his dominant hand is finally free, he reaches for another one and grabs the handle, only to feel nothing. What? He tries again. Nothing. He growls and nudges his hand forward before attempting once more, internally celebrating with another gulp.

How many tankards has he emptied for this round again?

It doesn't matter. As long as he drinks more than Skizz, surely that'll be enough determinant that he got this in the bag, right?

Right.

Now, back to chugging.

“Top…” Skizz calls solemnly.

“Yeah?” Tango looks up, only to see the blond man staring right into his eyes, the mug completely forgotten on the table. “What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Do you want us to stop?”

“No!” Skizz's eyes widen in panic before slumping back on his seat. “I just… want you to know that I love you, man.” He chuckles.

An image of a man and a woman saying the same three words pops out of his hazy brain, causing him to jolt violently at the momentary dread before snapping himself out of it.

He has to remind himself that it's okay. It's just Skizz being Skizz again.

“Sure?” Tango furrows his brows in confusion.

What is this all about?

Is this his tactic or something?

“You don't understand how important this is, dude!” Skizz, with his blushing glory, stands from his seat and goes around with wobbly legs to sit beside Tango, grabbing both of his shoulders firmly. “No matter what happens, I'll always have your back because I love you, alright? Don't ever forget that.”

“Don't you have enough yet, Jester Quartet?”

A deep and even voice interrupts, causing Tango and Skizz to snap their heads to the source, only to see Etho crossing his legs while sitting on a different table from across them.

“It's way past eleven and you still have work tomorrow.” Etho adds before drinking a beer.

How many cups has this man drunk? He's been at it since he came here!

“You do realize that you're the only one who calls us that, right?” Skizz hiccups, with Etho shrugging apathetically.

“Not until the winner is decided.” Tango informs.

“Most have already left to sleep, man. You guys should as well before you'll regret it.”

“Just a bit more, Etho?” Skizz pleads, clapping his hands together for good measure. “Please?”

Etho sighs deeply, “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Yes! Love you, buddy!” Skizz cheers before grabbing another tankard and drinks it.

Tango grins ear to ear at an idea that suddenly pops out of his head, not hesitating to reach under the mug and push it upwards, causing the scarred man to gurgle. Skizz hastily throws the drink away as he vigorously coughs, heaving heavily while leaning over the table to catch his breath.

“You little…” Skizz growls as he slowly turns to Tango's direction. “Come here, you!” He raises his arms and is about to grab Tango, but the dwarf frantically steps back with noodle legs, barely dodging the attack.

Skizz pounces forward with a flap of his wings, but Tango jumps back before running away from the dining area. Behind him is the blond screaming for him to stop. Obviously, he didn't. He's not that stupid.

Normally.

The chase continues for however long until he runs up the stairs, swiftly turning into a corner, and finds an open trapdoor from amongst the darkness before quickly diving in, closing it on the way. Looking up, he hears heavy footsteps stumping to where the opening was supposed to be, listening in on Skizz grumbling as his stomping fades, assuming he turns back to seek someplace else.

Releasing the air he unknowingly holds, he slowly opens the trapdoor with a snicker and gets out. As he wanders around the top floor for the staircase, he glances at the railing and spots the huge dining hall from his location with awe. Something catches his eye and follows it, snorting as he sees Skizz by a mounted picture on the wall.

That guy sure is quick to get distracted. At least he won't have to worry about him for a while.

Focusing back on the sight, he realizes how small everything is from up here. Since he's too tired from running to find the stairs, he'll have to resort to flying. You know, like a bird.

As he deems it a good idea, he leans to the side and plants a firm grip on the wooden rail, boosting himself up with a jump as his legs go over it before letting go. Feeling the air brushing against his skin, he notices the ground quickly approaching his way.

Everything goes black.

Chapter Text

With a throb overwhelming his skull, Tango slowly makes his way to the bedroom. The wobbling legs aren't making his progress easier, but they fulfill their purpose, leading him to his bed before dropping face first onto the pillow. The meeting is still fresh in his mind, not helping with the migraine as he can still hear the overlapping voices arguing all around him, groaning painfully at the awful reminder.

Why does he have to deal with the aftermath?

His eyelids are getting heavier by the second, allowing himself to drift into the sleeping realm after releasing a yawn. He'll worry about work when the time comes. For now, he'll rest and prepare for his day off tomorrow. He still has to finish that thing, after all.

The lingering image of a child jolts him awake, wheezing desperately as he wrinkles his shirt around his rapidly rising torso, willing his heart to slow down with a couple of breaths. He gulps for good measure, relieved as the tension leaves his body. He lets go of his clothing and plants his hand to the side, releasing a hum of confusion as his palm doesn't meet with the smooth cloth of the bed but instead something rough and solid.

That can't be right.

Moving his gaze downwards, he gapes at the unfamiliar floor of what seems to be a balcony.

Since when did his house have one?

Frantically observing his dim surroundings, he appears to be on the second floor of someone's house, his own nowhere to be seen.

Did he take it too far that his body had to shut down on him in a stranger's house?

He finally realizes then that there's something obscuring his vision, reaching a hand to pull it out of his forehead to see a piece of paper. As he inspects it, he finds a note of familiar handwriting.

Uh, oh.

ℐ 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒷ℯ 𝒷ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽ℴ𝓂ℯ, 𝓈ℴ 𝓎ℴ𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝓁ℯℯ𝓅 𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓃ℴ𝓌. 𝒮ℯℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉! - 𝒵ℯ𝒹𝒶𝓅𝒽

Gaping at the scribbles for a little longer, he reads it over and over as if it'll answer the bizarre situation he's currently in. From amongst the confusion, though, he knows one thing.

Anger.

“Zedaph!” Tango screams on top of his lungs, not caring if some people are still asleep.

His heart hammers in his ribcage.

Holding a tight grip on an amulet he bought for cheap earlier, Tango closes his eyes and pictures an image of a certain greenery, sensing the surge of energy escaping the accessory before wrapping around his body. When everything goes still, he takes a peak from under an eyelid, deeming it safe to open his eyes.

Once he finally sees the world again, he looks down on the lake and gasps.

Slapping the metallic hand to his mouth, he releases a muffled wheeze at the sight, biting his lower lip as if it'll stifle the noise.

It turns out he's making it worse by holding it in because he's already splitting his sides, taking in the detail of the tree for a reflection instead of his own face.

This is amazing!

Without a moment to waste, he heads to a certain person's house, fully prepared to take his revenge.

And by house, he means a giant cube with spinning gears and clock. It's not an everyday sight, but it's a thing.

Running towards the greenery nearby the mountain of chests (why can't this man place his stuff inside like a sane individual? Oh, that's right… he's not), he takes his position and stands straight with the trees, perfectly blending in. After waiting a few minutes, he silently celebrates when the man himself goes out of the giant cube, rubbing his azure eye with a loud yawn as he beelines to the wooden chests.

Taking it as his cue to start his diabolical plan, he doesn't hesitate to release his amusement with a snort, catching the sleepy voidwalker's attention.

“Who goes there? And why can I smell metal? Are my trees going rusty?” Zedaph questions with a raspy voice, unused from rest before snapping his head behind him, furrowing his brows in anticipation. “Is there a burglar in my area? Show yourself!” He stands straight and spreads his legs a little to provide better footing and grip, igniting his palm with a purple swirling aura. “I have a magic hand and I'm not afraid to use it!”

Tango stops himself from doubling over and decides to laugh without restraint instead.

“T-Tango, is that you?”

“No Tango here!” Tango replies with a high-pitched voice.

Zed's demeanor immediately shifts into a much relaxed one once he discovers that he's not in imminent danger. It doesn't mean that Tango will reveal himself anytime soon, though.

This is so much fun.

“What- How are you doing this?” Zed giggles as he looks around. “You can't even use magic!”

Instead of answering that question, Tango laughs harder, every inch of his muscles quivering but wills them to stay still. He can't afford to be busted yet. Not when it's still too hilarious!

“Stop playing games, little man!” Zed tiptoes towards his chests and quickly takes a peek behind them. “Aha!” He yells with a huge grin, but it immediately turns upside down. “Come out, come out wherever you are!” He singsongs as he continues to walk around, proceeding to relocate towards the trees.

Tango holds his breath in reflex once the voidwalker passes by, watching the man walk by with wide eyes, not noticing anything amiss. He thinks to challenge himself, testing to see how much he can get away with it. With that idea in mind, his lips curve into a shit eating grin.

“I'm right here, Zed!” Tango calls vividly. “Can't you see me?”

“No! Where are you?” Zed's voice drawls, accompanied by crunching of grass.

“I'm literally right here!”

“Where?” Zed exclaims, causing Tango to wheeze. “This is ridiculous.”

“What? Do you want a clue, you crybaby?”

“I'm not a crybaby!” Zed squawks. “And yes, I need a clue, please.” He quickly switches into a much calmer tone.

“Just keep walking while I say ‘hot’ or ‘cold’.” Tango instructs casually. “How is that?”

“Fine.”

Zed huffs and does what he's told, quietly strolling around the tiny forest as Tango dictates ‘cold’ whenever his friend is getting farther or ‘hot’ if he's closer.

Man, relying on his peripheral instead of turning his head around is harder than he thought. He can already feel his eyeballs throbbing from his sockets from how overexerted they are. But the pros weigh over the cons, so he continues to entertain himself while Zed keeps doing what he's instructed to do like a headless chicken running in circles.

He can't help but express his amusement again by snorting.

“Do you think this is funny? Huh?” Zed growls. “Just keep laughing, then!”

“Don't mind if I do!” Tango singsongs before he cackles.

Once he spots Zed passing right in front of him, he doesn't hesitate to pounce and clench his fist, pulling it back before throwing it towards his friend's shoulder with a scream, earning a startled yelp from the voidwalker as he scrambles back.

“Oh, my goodness!” Zed wheezes with wide eyes, staring at Tango's direction while caressing his heaving chest. “What the- You're a tree!” He exclaims with a giggle. “How did you do that?”

Tango can't answer at the moment as he's still drowning from his uncontrollable laughter, allowing himself to double over as he clutches his spasming stomach with his arms.

“You scared the living daylights out of me. Oh.” Zed exhales deeply. “I think you just gave me a heart attack, then. Thank you for that.” He comments with a calm tone.

“Holding still for that long was totally worth it.” Tango wipes the tear off his eye, grabbing the amulet around his neck and deactivates the illusion. “I bought this thing recently.” He points a finger towards the accessory for emphasis. “It allows me to project illusions towards myself for camouflage, as you can see. Since I can't fuel the crystal inside it with magic, its own reserve will only last me about a few minutes before it completely runs out.”

“Can I see it?” Zed requests.

Tango quietly takes off the necklace and hands it over to his friend, waiting for the voidwalker to finish inspecting it with sparkly blue eyes, filled with nothing but awe and excitement.

“Interesting. If I can infuse it with my magic, it will probably last longer.” Zed muses as he observes the tiny crystal from inside before snapping it close with a soft click.

“Zed! You just gave me an idea.” Tango vibrates and grabs the said man's shoulders, unable to contain his excitement. “What if we prank Impulse with the same thing from earlier, but with a twist? With your magic fueling my amulet, I can wait with you as long as I need, so we can pounce at the perfect moment or something?”

“That's a really cool idea, man!” Zed mirrors his giddy expression. “So, what is this twist you speak of?” He raises his brow with a smirk.

Tango hums, “What if… whoever gets recognized the last wins?”

“Challenge accepted.” Zed holds out a hand, staring at Tango with a fiery gaze.

“It's settled, then.” Tango shakes the said appendage and curves his lips into a toothy grin.

With the amulet full of renewed energy, Tango and Zed take their positions. Tango is fully shifted with the help of his accessory while his friend uses his own magic to imitate a fae's glamor. Noticing Impulse standing under the trees as he slowly spins the handle of his umbrella from afar, they carefully move forward. Somehow, Zed's ‘chat’ conveniently knows where he is, but now is not the time for Tango to question it again.

A twig snaps, and it's suddenly the loudest noise on the planet. Tango freezes in place, his muscles going rigid as he looks behind to see his partner in crime being the culprit.

“Zed, you butt nugget!” Tango whisper yells, mindful of the volume of his voice in case Impulse might hear him from this far. “Warn a man, will you?” He wheezes and caresses his thumping heart.

“Sorry.” Zed mumbles quietly.

As Tango moves his attention back to their other friend, he gasps silently as Impulse is staring straight at them, eyes round and wide as a bird of prey. For a few seconds, the world goes still before the blond inevitably shakes his head and goes back to his sightseeing. Thankfully, he apparently still deems the sun more entertaining (which is ironic) than their premature ruckus.

He exhales in relief, moving forward once more. This time, however, he changes his pathway into a zig zag. It takes them about a few meters before Impulse turns around again, furrowing his brows in concern. The look on his face makes Tango chuckle, hearing Zed doing the same.

They repeat the same routine from earlier but instead of being all stealth mode, they can't seem to stop from compromising themselves as they continue to chuckle, snicker, snort, wheeze, and all the other noises they can possibly produce in quick succession. It's like they've been possessed by a tickle demon or something, unable to stop making themselves laugh as they inch closer.

Finally, Impulse is fully focusing on the forest that apparently doesn't know how to be one. That's what is written all over his face, at least.

“Hello?” Impulse hesitates.

Tango snorts at how soft his friend sounds, making the blond jump.

“Did the forest just make fun of me?” Impulse deadpans.

It's apparently the last straw for Zed as he drowns in a fit of laughter, doubling over while his transformation goes undone, exposing himself.

“It was you!” Impulse gasps dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger towards the voidwalker who's rolling on the floor.

“Oh, you ruiner!” Tango whines and facepalms in disappointment, grabbing his amulet to deactivate the illusion. “At least I won, so I can't really complain.” He sighs deeply.

“What?” Impulse exclaims, the hold on his umbrella tightening. “You, too?”

“That's right!” Tango puffs his chest confidently.

“Wh- Is that why it smells like- How- What- Why are you posing as trees?” Impulse stammers. “I- I thought I was losing my mind at first when I heard a tree mumbling. But it turns out, it was you clowns.” He chuckles and shakes his head fondly. “What's next, are you gonna dress up as a cloud or something?”

Zed's stomach rumbles, grabbing both Tango and Impulse's attention before they snicker at the interruption.

“Well, aren't you a busy man?” Tango comments with a smirk.

While they grab themselves something to eat, Tango takes the opportunity to share his story about how Zed left him on someone's balcony being the trigger to prank the voidwalker, weaving the story with every detail of the event, including the hilarious reaction from Zed. They don't stop laughing, making it difficult for him to finish as he keeps on giggling in-between, but he manages.

The wheezes have finally calmed down, but the beaming expressions on their faces linger. As they walk the busy street, Tango tunes out the noise around them and focuses on his friends. That's all it matters, after all.

“That was hilarious.” Impulse wipes a tear off his eye with a free hand. “Oh, man.”

“So Skizz is next on the list, right?” Tango clarifies as he releases his stomach, standing back to his full height.

Zed blows a raspberry, “Is that even a question? Of course he's included! We shall never leave any stone unturned.” He raises a pointy finger for emphasis. “But we have a different plan for our feathered friend.” His lips curve into a smirk.

“Oh?” Tango raises a brow, intrigued. “What does your chat have to say?”

“Come on, man! Share it with the class.” Impulse bounces on his heels with a grin.

“Do you guys remember my flinger?” Zed starts.

Tango ignores the not-so-subtle whispers from amongst the crowd.

Jerks.

“The mechanical plow?” Impulse questions before Zed nods in reply. “Oh! He's gonna freak out without a doubt!” He gasps, giggling not long after.

“He sure will! That's where you come in, Impulse.” Zed points a finger in the said man's direction. “Since you're usually the one who wakes him up, it won't be suspicious at all. You just have to… nudge him in the right direction and lead him to my humble abode.” He plants a hand under his chin as he muses.

Tango can't help the grin creeping up on his cheeks. He can already imagine the look on Skizz's face when he gets on that ridiculous contraption from a few years back.

“Did you check if that old thing still works or not?” Tango shares his thoughts.

“Of course I did!” Zed gasps in disbelief. “I use that baby every day, so I need to maintain it every weekend. I can't believe you assumed that my flinger was a one-time only.” He crosses his arms. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” He shakes his head in disappointment.

“For shame!” Tango presses the back of his hand towards his forehead dramatically, hearing Impulse giggling beside him. “To think I doubted you for a second. It won't happen again, man.”

“That's all I needed to hear.” Zed nods approvingly. “So does anyone object with the plan or do we all agree?” He swiftly changes the subject.

“Agreed!” Impulse raises his free hand in affirmation.

“I'm cool with that.” Tango shrugs at the same time.

“Well… let's get started, shall we?” Zed rubs his palms together.

Tango drags a groan.

He's bored.

“Zed!” Tango whines, elongating the syllables as if it'll help. “How long are we gonna stay here?” He rolls left to right a few times before going back to his original position.

Zed steps one leg on the ledge of the giant cube, holding a binocular with both hands as he looks around.

“I don't know, honestly. It depends on how quickly Impulse could wake Skizz up.” Zed comments casually.

“In that case, we're never gonna leave this place, then!” Tango groans loudly, dragging a hand down his face in annoyance. “I should've offered to wake him up instead, even if he's annoying with extra insufferable.”

Zed gasps, “Tango, get up!”

“What? Is it another sheep?” Tango deadpans.

“No! They're here for real!” Zed exclaims.

Tango hurriedly gathers himself, scrambling to stand up before snatching the binoculars off his friend's hands. Looking into the lenses himself, he gasps to see Impulse and Skizz having a conversation while actively walking towards their direction.

“Finally! God, they took so long.” Tango exhales in relief, handing back the object.

“You can have it. I forgot that I can just use my magic. Oops.” Zed rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“Well, don't mind if I do.” Tango shrugs before returning the lenses back to his eyes, observing every movement as the two are heading to what Zed refers to as his ‘backyard’.

He has a lot to say about the matter, but now's not the time for sarcasm.

Once they have arrived, Tango can't help but wait in bated breath, hearing his heart drumming in his ears as his grip on the binoculars gradually tightens every second, seeing Skizz wandering nearer and nearer towards the spot.

Almost there!

Before he realizes it, Skizz is already reduced into a blur once something metallic emerges from the grass where the scarred man used to stand. Immediately snapping his head up, his cheeks hurt from how much he's grinning as he sees Skizz flailing his limbs in mid-air, screaming his lungs out while he falls back with tremendous speed.

“Skizz, fly!” He hears Zed yelling beside him.

Based on the lack of reaction, it appears that their currently falling friend didn't hear it. He allows the binoculars to drop on the floor in favor of cupping his now free hands around his mouth.

Tango takes a deep breath, “Skizz, WINGS!” He shouts intensely, internally celebrating as he barely sees a different movement from the gradually growing dot in the sky.

All of a sudden, the air stills, feeling the cold wrapping around his body as it restricts his movement, not allowing him to move apart from shuddering as the chill runs down his spine. His stomach twists into a knot once he feels intense gazes boring into his very soul, staring at him from every direction. The invisible force threatens to push him down with everything it's got, as if gravity wants to crush him with its weight.

The stifling sensation disappears as quickly as it came, allowing him to gasp for air while seeing pristine white feathers descending towards the roof. Once it lands with a loud thud, he can't help but jump violently, his flight instincts kicking in due to that short episode from earlier.

All of Skizz's three pairs of wings flap and spread to their full glory, visualizing his annoyance clearly as he marches to them, unknowingly calming Tango's nerves at the familiarity. The winged man gestures his hands with fast movements and loud hmphs, expressing his thoughts through sign language.

He jabs a finger towards Tango’s way. You

Using that same finger, he moves it to point his new eye where his open mouth is supposed to be. suck.

The message makes Tango giggle, causing all of the other's eyes—including the ones on his wings and arms—to widen in disbelief. Skizz rolls the eyes on his face with a groan, crossing his arms to clearly emphasize his displeasure.

“Uh, do you mind translating what Skizz has said?” Zed requests with an awkward smile.

“Oh! He told me that the prank was amazing.” Tango lies with a smirk, glancing to the side and sees the man in question stepping back with tense shoulders, wings ruffling up from behind him while furrowing his brows to frown.

“No?” Zed raises a brow as he faces Skizz. “Are you saying that Tango's lying?”

Skizz vigorously nods his head, making Tango chuckle.

“Not surprised, to be honest.” Zed shrugs his shoulders. “Can you finger spell it instead? I managed to learn it faster than the actual.”

The watcher produces a noise that sounds like a muffled gasp, accompanied by his wide and beaming eyes before frantically nodding.

Using his dominant hand, Skizz raises it for Zed to see, gesturing to point his index finger above, pressing the thumb towards his middle finger before wrapping his index finger around his thumb. T

He unclenches it in a flash before forming a fist, but the thumb is pressed on the side of the curled index finger. A

He raises his thumb, index, and middle fingers, tucking his thumb under them before pressing the raised fingers towards the thumb, burying it. N

He relaxes his fingers before gesturing to point his index finger to the side, thumb resting adjacent to it and pointing in the same direction. N

He unclenches his hand and rests all the tips of his fingers towards the end of the thumb. O

He forms a fist pointing upwards, where his thumbs rest on top of the curled fingers. S

He raises both index and middle fingers, sticking them together. U

As Skizz is about to gesture another letter, Tango jumps in front of him immediately, yelling all sorts of nonsense to distract Zed. The former tries to be seen to form the next letter, but he makes it his mission to be a menace and obstruct the taller man as much as possible, getting in his way as they both wiggled frantically a few times.

At one point, he sees Skizz forming a middle finger from his peripheral, causing Zed to laugh a few distance away from them.

He can't help but release a giggle of his own once he sees Skizz gradually losing his mind, his restricted growls getting louder in every successful thwart. In a blur, something heavy presses against him, letting him lose his balance at the unexpected tackle and falls to the ground unceremoniously. As he regains his bearing, he struggles to set himself free but Skizz lying behind him prevents him from wiggling, gradually losing his breath with every failed attempt before eventually giving up with a flop.

“Skizz, you're too heavy!” Tango grunts. “Get your big butt off of me!” He demands.

“No dice!” Skizz yells, making Tango jump at the same time as the gasp from behind him. “I can finally talk! YES!” He cheers on top of his lungs. “Oh! And by the way… you suck, Tango. I just wanna tell you that.” He adds casually.

“Uh, huh. Whatever.” Tango deadpans. “Are we gonna stay here for the rest of our natural lives or what?”

Skizz's voice reverberates the small room, amplifying it with how the vibrations can just bounce off the nearby walls almost infinitely. Accompanying it is Impulse's soft giggles. Tango frowns and rests his chin on his fist, very bored as he can only wait for the scarred man's ramble to end, which has been going on for who knows how long.

After another loud exasperated sigh, which is promptly ignored like the previous ones, he drags a hand from his forehead down to his face, hopefully distracting him. Glancing to the seat diagonally from him, he spots the owner of this house swinging his head forward a few times, an obvious indicator that he's dozing off because he's bored as well.

With a swift movement, he quietly kicks Zed by the leg, causing the other to jolt awake as he frantically turns his head around. Once he looks like he's finally snapped out of it, he furrows his brows in Tango's direction.

“What?” Zed mouths in confusion.

“This is your house! Can't you do something about… this?” Tango leans forward to whisper and glances to Skizz's direction for emphasis.

“You know how he is, man. He won't stop until he spills everything out of his system.” Zed replies with a quiet sigh in defeat. “Let's just wait it out, okay?”

Tango watches the two best friends conversing joyfully like they're in their own world, quietly accepting his defeat as he absentmindedly moves his gaze around the place, taking in the details and the placement of the furniture. To be fair, it's pretty obvious how the interior can spin around effortlessly without ruining the decor.

Heck, it's impressive enough that Zed has built a spinning house of all things.

That's pure genius right there, unlike him, who only relies on his innate ‘talent’ instead of working for it. He doesn't understand why he's being favored by the kingdom so much, but his craftsmanship is nothing compared to what his friend has achieved.

He just wishes that his people won't be so prejudicial and instead acknowledge Zed and Skizz for who they are instead of what they are.

With another sigh, he focuses on the surroundings, gaze stopping as he notices a pink sheep stuffed toy sitting on a cabinet along with a lamp, a picture frame with all of their faces, and other junk. The plushie's beady eyes stare right at him, reminding him of a similar toy being taken care of with small gentle hands, treated as if it's the most valuable treasure in the world.

He can't help but smile softly at the memory of wheat fields, a wooden cottage outside of civilization, and warm hugs.

“Top, you stink as hell.” Skizz deadpans, followed by various noises of frustration from Impulse and Zed. Tango snaps out of his thoughts at the sudden call of his nickname. “Take a bath before coming here, man. I could smell all the copper of your project from a mile away.”

“Skizz! You weren't supposed to say that!” Impulse exclaims before facepalming.

“Why not?” Skizz whines. “We all gave him a static about his beard the other day! What's different about this one?”

Zed glances around before leaning towards Skizz's ear, “The thing was supposed to be a secret, remember?” He whisper yells.

“Oh!” Skizz's eyes widen in realization, slapping a hand to his mouth. “Tango, I am so sorry.” He apologizes with a grimace.

“It's cool.” Tango shrugs. “Just make sure not to bring it up when we're surrounded by people next time. It's safe if we're in a remote area like this, though.”

“Thank goodness.” Skizz exhales exaggeratedly as he caresses his torso. “So when is it gonna be finished? I can't wait to try it!”

“Uh, soon.” Tango answers vaguely. “All I can say is that you guys are gonna love it.” He stretches his mouth into a cheeky grin.

His friends cheer at the news, accompanied by persistent clapping of multiple hands and obnoxious howling from Skizz for good measure. Tango can only laugh alongside them as the feeling of something light blossoms in his chest, a sense of pride for having supportive friends like them.

“Aren't you enjoying yourself? Huh?” The voice in his head that awfully sounds like a young child mocking, dread overtaking his body as it causes his heart to do a one-eighty degree and constricts.

Not again.

Chapter Text

From inside the giant underground copper box, Tango tinkers with the spawner he ‘permanently borrowed’ from one of his expeditions around the country, lodging his screwdriver towards the tweaked skull and mending it together with the cage-like object. After he finishes, he drags a sigh and leans his sore back against the tuff wall, setting the upgraded spawner aside.

As he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his right sleeve, he hears footsteps approaching his spot, watching Zed skipping from one copper block to another while avoiding the grid lines.

“Don't you have work to do?” Tango raises a brow.

Zed blows a raspberry, “No one buys my inventions, anyway, so it's fine.” He waves a dismissive hand as Tango grimaces.

“I don't like that.” Tango presses his lips into a flat line. “If only they'll actually try instead of being influenced by your species, they would come to realize that you've got more smarts in that brain of yours than any dwarves combined.”

“Aw! Thanks, man.” Zed beams before kneeling down by the spawner, leaning his head to the side to inspect it with sparkly eyes. “You never told me what changes you did with these things.”

“I just rigged it to activate via line of sight, so the mobs will only spawn when a player enters one of the rooms.” Tango explains nonchalantly, easily dictating his idea that's been whirling in his mind for years.

It may have been that long, but it's only recently that he's decided to finally turn his ideas into a reality.

“I wanna try adding a twist to it by increasing its difficulty or giving you loot once you defeat all the enemies, and it refreshes itself for another player to challenge or get ready for another round. I also want some kind of chest or something where you can unlock and give you unique loot once yet multiple players can access it to save resources, and it has the ability to replenish itself. But as you can see…” He spreads his arms wide with an exasperated sigh. “...I can't really magicificate and there's the problem with restocking it every time, so I'll have to think of something else.” He ruffles his oily and messy hair.

How long has it been since he last bathed?

“We can help you with that, if you don't mind.” Zed tilts his head to face Tango.

“That's what I should be saying!” Tango giggles in disbelief. “Are you sure?” He furrows his brows as he confirms, hiding his apprehension at the same time.

“Yeah! Impulse and Skizz have been itching to lend you a hand for a long time. We literally have three of the species with the highest magic reserve in our circle, so we can easily handle whatever you're asking us. But since mister perfect over here can apparently handle things all by himself, none of us can get the opportunity to.”

Zed continues to silently observe the dark metallic object like he hasn't just dropped the biggest bomb yet. Tango gapes at the nonchalant attitude but silently goes back to work on the next one. His friend is sneakily touching the smooth surface of the object with his hand, easily spotting this by glancing at his peripheral, but he allows Zed to do his own thing and simply smiles fondly, the awe on the voidwalker's face is enough to ease his exhaustion.

He doesn't deserve such amazing friends.

As soon as Zed leans back to sit properly, Tango doesn't hesitate to open his mouth.

“What do you think? Do you think it's possible?”

“Hey, when are you gonna give me the liquidized miasma? You extracted a lot from a few pillagers and forbidden magic users, didn't you?” Zed looks up. “Hand it over. Now.” He firmly demands with a hand in front of him.

“Focus, Zed!” Tango squawks.

“No!” Zed vigorously shakes his head. “You promised to give me some for my experiment. It's been, what? A few months since then? Even my patience has limits, Tango!” He leans forward with a frown, a bit too close to Tango's face in his opinion.

“Okay! I'll lend you a bottle later.” Tango hastily replies while leaning his head back as much as possible. “God, you're such a pain in the butt. I'll let you know that.” He sighs in defeat at the same as Zed leaning back to cheer in victory.

A sudden burst of ideas has emerged in his head, feeling as if he's been slapped in the face by the epiphany. He remembers that when it's applied to a creature, the properties of that liquid can attract others nearby with the same wavelength as it, acting as a pheromone of some sort but instead of reinforcement, they're gonna kill their target right in the face.

What if when a player drinks it, it increases the difficulty of the chamber, sending mobs more dangerous than the ‘normal’ mode to their way?

Yes! And he can add a boss mob to work together with the breeze when it happens.

“Zed… I usually hate saying this, but you're a genius!” Tango grabs the man's shoulders as he can't help the grin forming on his face.

“Flattery won't get you anywhere, man.” Zed comments apathetically, but the smile creeping up on his face says all that he needs to know.

Two voices echo from across the hallway, stealing Tango and Zed's attention as they see Impulse and Skizz laughing. Compared to when they enter this place with neat and clean clothes, they are now stained with copper from head to toe.

“Oh, man. That was hilarious.” Impulse wipes a tear off his crimson eye.

“Speak of the devil.” Tango huffs fondly.

“Zeddlebop!” Skizz perks up as he spots Zed and waves his hand widely. “I still can't believe you dragged everyone into pranking each other. That was amazing.” Skizz chuckles.

“What can I say? I can't simply refuse the voices’ orde- amazing guidance, so I had to comply.” Zed replies casually and smoothly corrects himself at the end.

“So that's the real reason.” Skizz smirks with a hand on his hip. “By the way… have you figured out how to break the curse yet?” He switches carefully, receiving a fierce look from Impulse.

Zed stares for a second, pursing his lips into a flat line as he thinks. Tango distracts himself by fidgeting with the new vault in his hands, pretending as if he's still tuning it.

“I haven't.” Zed says simply. “But! I'm not in a rush!” He grins ear to ear. “Sure, they're annoying most of the time, but I love the added company. And besides, they keep things spicy if you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down playfully.

“Eh…” Tango drawls. “More like cheaty bitter sauce, if you ask me. They somehow know what's about to happen and snitch on us, so it's always boring trying to mess with you.” He bumps his head against the wall behind him with an exasperated sigh.

“Well… I love it. That way, I can prank you as much as I want to. Right, guys?” Zed puffs his chest confidently, before stopping for a moment. “See? They agree with me.” He chuckles at the same time as Tango releasing a groan with an eye roll.

“What are you guys up to, by the way?” Impulse smiles brightly as he squats in front of Tango.

“Good news, everybody!” Zed claps his hands once as Skizz sits in front of him. “Mister Perfect over here finally decides to ask us for help! Can you believe it?” He mocks with a grin.

Skizz gasps, “Are you hearing what I'm hearing, Dipple Dop?” He receives a nod from the said man. “Who are you and what did you do to my buddy?” He reaches over to grab Tango by the shoulders, repeatedly shaking him back and forth.

When Tango feels as if the world is spinning at dizzying speed, he immediately smacks the scarred man's hands away, keeping himself as still as possible while waiting for his brain to rearrange itself. Once he deems it enough, he looks up to give him the most apathetic face he has ever expressed.

“If you don't like to help, I can ask someone else.” Tango feigns disappointment with a deadpan. “I heard Gem has been improving her magic lately. Maybe she can implant the trash dimension's wormholes to my vaults instead.”

Tango snickers once he hears Impulse shouting, Skizz gasping exaggeratedly, and Zed repeatedly chanting ‘no’ in disbelief.

“Since when are you in contact with my sister?” Impulse whines.

“That's not important right now.” Skizz growls.

“For you, maybe. But she's a devil incarnate! Tango will fall for her innocent act and get beaten to death during one of her ‘sparrings’.” Impulse grabs Tango by the shoulders. What's with everyone and holding one's shoulders? “I'm in. Whatever it is you're planning, I'd rather do it than see you get tormented by a girl half your size.” He promises grimly.

“Come on.” Tango raises a brow. “She's not that bad, right?”

“Dude! Are you listening to yourself?” Impulse gapes in disbelief. “She literally threw a giant from across the arena. With one hand.” Tango jolts and goes pale at the information. “There's a reason why she's the next head of the family instead of me.” He slumps back to his original seat.

“Yeah. You're right.” Tango frantically nods his head. “It's decided, then. Both of you will help me make the finishing touches to this place. And then, we'll do a few test runs to ensure everything's working as it should be.”

“What item are you planning to despawn for the chamber's prize, though? It should at least be juicy enough for the people to be willing to risk their lives.” Skizz points out with a frown.

“You're making it sound like I'm making this game just for the players to die.” Tango deadpans with crossed arms.

“You're not?”

“No! At worst, they'll lose a tooth.”

“That's reassuring.” Skizz retorts sarcastically.

“Shut up!” Tango squawks before clearing his throat. “As for the loot, I hate to agree with you, but it needs to be enticing enough.” He slumps his shoulders. “What could be a good prize, though?” He places a hand under his chin in thought.

After a few silent moments, Tango perks up as he thinks of a certain place where he can hopefully use something.

“Skizz, what's wrong?”

Impulse's voice brings him back to the present, looking up to see the vampire grimacing as he questions the watcher with colors draining from his face.

“Are you sick from the copper?” Zed guesses, pressing the back of his hand on Skizz's forehead.

“I- I'm f- Actually, I'm not.” Skizz pales, voice barely audible.

“I'll fetch you some water. I'll be right back.” Tango announces as he swiftly stands at the same time.

“There's no need for that.” Skizz shakes his head, making Tango halt. “Do you guys know what a ‘mavarex’ is?” He questions grimly.

A creak of the hinges fills the quiet hallway. Tango pushes the door open and meets dust, swatting his free hand in front of his face as he coughs vigorously. After a while, his vision finally clears before spotting the wooden chests. He approaches one first, clearing the lingering dust off the surface before opening it, scanning the items as he digs his hands through them.

With a frustrated hum, he moves onto the next one, furrowing his brows for the fruitless effort. He repeats the same process over and over, the sides of his clothes getting filthy at how much dust he had to wipe earlier. Flopping to the floor with his butt unceremoniously, he plants both hands on top of his oily head, groaning in annoyance as he catches his breath.

Why can't he find anything decent?

He only needs a few more rare items for the pots and vaults, but he can't seem to find anything that might fit the theme of the chamber.

Something cold touches his shoulder, causing him to turn around and jump violently, bumping his back to the wooden surface of the chest with a loud oof. He looks up, only to see Scar doing his signature chuckle.

Tango hisses in pain, “You scared me! God. Don't do that again!” He caresses his back with a hand.

“Sorry.” Scar sighs in relief as he wipes a tear off his eye. “I was wondering if that silly goose for a raccoon went back for revenge but it turns out, it was you.” He expresses gleefully. “What are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be at home?”

“Uh…” Tango quickly stands as he averts his gaze. “I was cleaning up the mess in here, yeah.” He makes steady eye contact as he explains casually. “We don't know how many more contraptions are gonna be needed soon, especially when war is fast approaching.” He adds with a shrug, trying to make the topic light despite the impending doom.

“That's fair.” Scar nods in agreement. “It would probably help if you actually take out the junk instead of scattering them around their respective containers, don't you think?” He suggests with a smile.

Tango jolts in surprise, eyes blowing wide as he observes Scar's calm demeanor, feeling uncomfortable at how unfazed the other seems.

“You got me.” Tango sighs in defeat. “Just…” He hesitates, opening and closing his mouth a few times before clenching his fists to the sides, steeling his resolve. “D-Don't tell anyone about this, alright?”

“Uh, huh! Scar beams as he nods his head. “I promise.” He raises a pinky finger.

“I…” Tango stops himself as he peaks outside the door, looking around for a moment to see if anyone is going to enter anytime soon. As he feels like the coast is clear, he goes back to face Scar. “I secretly made th-this game underground. I- I said game, but it's more of a dungeon. It's- I'm almost finished with it, but I-I'm still struggling with finding a suitable loot.” He explains apprehensively, making random gestures with his clammy hand.

“Is that why the metallic smell on you is stronger than usual recently?” Scar mutters to himself, not aware that Tango can hear him.

Scar stares for a moment, making the lump in Tango's throat form. He's painfully aware that he's not allowed to do anything that's not needed for war. It helps tremendously with conserving their resources, but he can't! Not when his body is itching to make something fun and interesting instead of monotonically crafting the same tool over and over.

A tool that will take someone's life.

Even if he's not the one who will use them, he's still basically the one who killed all those people, both innocent and otherwise.

He clenches at his aching chest and bites his lower lip, digging his teeth onto the sensitive flesh and feels the sting, his guilt easing for a bit as if it'll do anything. It’s for self-gratification, but he doesn't care. He'll have to suck it up if he wants his friends to be safe and sound. He's sorry for the families in all of the three dimensions, but there's nothing more important to him than the people he cherishes.

If he has to create a weapon of destruction and bathe his hands with blood for their victory, then so be it.

“What about Impulse's bang stick?” Scar's suggestion immediately snaps him out of his thoughts, having to double back in case he mishears it.

“Wai- Wh-What did you just say?” Tango questions as he chuckles awkwardly.

“The bang stick? You know, the one with a big bulge at the end of the length?” Scar claps his hands and spreads them away from each other to demonstrate, not helping with his case.

“Scar! You really need to watch out what you're saying.” Tango whines as he covers his face with both hands.

“What's wrong with it?” Scar's voice rises into a high pitch at the end, indicating his confusion. “I'm so confused.”

“Nothing.” Tango chuckles before sighing in relief. “Don't ever change, buddy.”

He really means it. Because of Scar's eccentricity (a very welcome attitude, he might add), he doesn't have to devolve into his downward spiral of negative thoughts from earlier.

For now, he has to focus on the task at hand, which is to obtain a heavy core.

Everything is black.

Tango's brain throbs against his skull as it feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, unable to recall what happened prior. Opening his heavy eyelids, he wakes up to see a different but familiar ceiling.

Where is he?

“Thank goodness, you're awake.” He faintly hears a voice he recognizes. Impulse.

He slowly moves his gaze to the source, only to feel as if the world is spinning around him, gagging against his will and slams a hand to his mouth in one swift movement. He immediately shuts his eyelids. He feels awful. He wants to vomit very badly, but he knows that he can't. Not when it will leave a huge mess for him to clean up. Considering how heavy his head is and how numb his limbs are, he doubts that he can move away from this bed anytime soon.

“What happened?” Tango inquires groggily before coughing softly.

He hears a creaking sound of the floorboards and a couple of shuffling, sensing not long after calloused hands slipping under his shoulders, slowly but surely hoisting him up and allowing them to guide him to the headboard, leaning back with a sigh as the hands disappear.

“Here, drink this.” Impulse calls softly, urging Tango to open his droopy eyelids. “It will help you rehydrate.” He adds with a gentle smile.

Tango opens his mouth and is about to reach the transparent glass with trembling hands, but Impulse leans forward to bring it to his lips instead, leaning his head backward as he drinks the beverage, feeling the cool sensation passing to his sore throat.

Not long after, he finally finishes it before his friend returns the glass to the small cabinet beside the bed.

“You… I found you on my doorstep, passed out.” Impulse shares apprehensively as he kneels down, opening a drawer before darting his gaze to the side with pressed lips.

“Oh.” Tango blurts weakly with tense shoulders.

Impulse grabs what seems to be a portable oxygen inhaler before closing the drawer with a click. He stands again as he turns to Tango.

“Did you overwork yourself again?” Impulse makes eye contact as he grimaces. “Or was it the oxygen we're gradually losing because of the exposed void?” He hands the held tool.

Tango opens his mouth to retort, but he's unable to form the words. Instead, he silently accepts the inhaler and aims the mask towards his face. He presses the cap down as he averts his gaze and bites his lip, feeling the lump forming in his throat. Even after being fed with a sufficient amount of oxygen again, it doesn't remove the aching sensation from his growing guilt.

“Why?” Impulse whimpers, causing Tango to jolt in surprise, sensing the dread gathering in his stomach. “Why would you go this far to risk your life over a hobby?”

He can't say it.

Not when it's his own problem to deal with. He doesn't want his friends to be involved when they already have a lot of things on their plate. He'll have to refuse and do what he usually does best: keep his mouth shut.

“I—” Tango's voice wavers as the back of his eyeballs begin to hurt from the repressed tears, mouth refusing to maintain the smile and forming more of a grimace instead. “Th-They won't shut up.” He whispers and points his mechanical finger towards his temple.

He's not supposed to spill it but suddenly, he feels so tired. Tired of keeping secrets. Tired of forcing himself to be okay when he's not. He swears that he's happy while being surrounded by his friends, but he can't for the life of him figure out why he's not okay. He should be. He's the luckiest person on the planet but apparently, it's not enough.

“What do you mean by that?” Impulse questions with a calm tone. “Who is it, Tango?” He adds in determination.

“I… can't say it.” Tango lowers his head in shame. “C-Can we drop it, please?” He wraps his mechanical hand around the blanket and wrinkles it. “I-I’m too tired for this.” He mutters and lowers his tense shoulders.

Impulse opens his mouth with a grimace, seemingly ready to say something but stops himself. He leans back on his seat in silence instead.

“Okay.” Impulse cranes his neck upwards and answers with a pained expression.

Chapter Text

The light posts from the streets have gradually been flickering on, illuminating the area one after another. Tango observes his pocket watch, huffing before placing it back to his pants pocket.

It's still one in the afternoon, but the dark clouds gathering in the sky causes the surroundings to be engulfed with darkness. He should've brought an umbrella with him if he knew this would happen.

Once he leaves the borders of town, he releases a sigh of relief. It's finally quiet. Now, he won't have to listen to people's bickering about his ‘amazing’ skills and their poisonous insults regarding his friends. At least badmouth him, too. People sure don't know how to be shameful of themselves, just because he accomplished a few things from the military. They're willing to chum up to him and stay on his good side.

As if that'll work on him.

The crunching of soil beneath his shoes interrupts his thoughts, thankfully.

Good. Now he won't have to think about them for the next few hours.

The wind blows rather harshly, immediately using his body as a shield to prevent it from blowing his bouquet of flowers away. As he feels it calming down, he exhales the air he's unknowingly holding and stands back up, continuing on his trek towards his destination.

After a while, he watches the familiar sign looming towards him, worn from time. With a shaky breath, he enters the arch, already sensing his twisted stomach going heavier from the invisible pressure threatening to crush him. As he gets closer, his legs are growing weaker.

The throbbing in his ears has never been louder once he's face to face with the corroded gravestone, the moss covering it being an indicator that he's at the correct spot. He moves forward, but the gravity pushing him down makes it hard to progress, feeling as if he's not moving closer. But he persists and eventually, he's in proximity.

Bending his knees, he removes the leaves off the gravestone and places the bouquet across from it, lowering himself to squat down in front of it.

“H-Hi, guys.” Tango greets with a smile that's more of a grimace. “It's been another year since then, so I'm here again.” He adds numbly, cringing at the lack of emotions.

With how much his heart has been hammering in his ribcage, he expects to break down right here and then. But the contrast of his current situation makes it more eerie, clenching both organic and mechanic hands on his knees with a watered down version of his frustration. At least, that's what it feels like.

It's as if the redstone line connecting his emotions and brain is missing a little dust, preventing the former from sending messages to the latter.

He's disgusted with himself.

“What a son I am. I don't even mourn losing you.” Tango mutters under his breath.

“I wouldn't word it like that.”

His heart escapes through his mouth and turns back with a violent jolt, glancing up to see Impulse staring at him with a soft expression.

“Impulse?” Tango shrieks. “Wh- You- How—” He stammers, unable to find the words.

Impulse chuckles, “Mind if I sit down?”

Tango scoots himself to the side, providing some room for the vampire to sit even with his umbrella open. With the silent invitation, Impulse settles down with a grunt.

“Did you follow me all the way here?” Tango presses his lips into a flat line.

“Sorry.” Impulse rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Why?”

“It's because… I don't want you to be alone right now.” Impulse answers solemnly.

“That's not an answer.” Tango raises a brow. “If you miss me that badly, you could just… I don't know, call me?” He shrugs nonchalantly in an attempt to keep the mood light.

“You don't have to do that, you know. It's just us.”

“Do what?”

“Pretending to be fine when you're not.”

Tango flinches at the comment, the way his friend is so direct to the point makes him recoil in surprise more than anything.

“I- I don't know what you're talking about.” Tango deadpans, suddenly losing all energy to react properly.

What sort of nonsense is Impulse spouting about all of a sudden? First, he's stalking him and being all cryptic about it. And now, he's saying things like this?

He really is fine, though. Nothing is happening apart from the rain about to pour on them at any moment while visiting a grave.

“Then, why are you overworking yourself more than what you're already doing? You've been cooped up in that project of yours for so long, enough for everyone to smell the strong copper scent on you from a mile away.” Impulse questions with an even voice.

“I already told you to drop this, didn't I?” Tango grits his teeth.

“Why did you look like you saw a ghost when Skizz told you ‘I love you’?”

Tango feels his heart drop to the pits of his stomach at the statement.

“Why were you staring longingly at Zed's sheep stuffed toy? Why did you suddenly go quiet when all of us celebrated the news of the completion for your game?” Impulse relents, continuing to bombard Tango with questions as he grips both of his shoulders, stopping to catch his breath. “Why would you push yourself so hard that you had to pass out? We don't want to lose you, man.” He wavers with a whisper, eyes shining from unshed tears.

Tango can only stare with wide eyes as one of his best friends is holding his shoulders as if his life depends on it, the vampire sobbing and headbutting his chest without any strength behind it, making it more of a bump. The last few words punch his gut, however, replaying in his mind on loop like a broken record.

He can't- He doesn't want to say it.

If he spills his crime right here, right now, he doubts that he can hang out with everyone again. A world without his friends is like a fish living without water, and the simple thought of losing them makes his heart shatter.

But he owes them an explanation, right?

They deserve to know what he did, about what he sacrificed in order to arrive where he is now.

"I got my whole family killed.” Tango whimpers.

From the corner of his eye, he glances at Impulse going rigid as a statue at the revelation. He averts his eyes further to the side, not wanting to see the scornful look the vampire will be making.

“Ever since they died, I- I could always hear their voices, whispering about how I abandoned them.”

A few loud knocks shook the cottage, making father wonder who it could be. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a golden axe on his torso.

And all hell broke loose.

His mother told him to escape with his sister, who would be turning four in a few weeks, secretly through the basement. He covered his sibling's ears as he could hear his mother's muffled scream from above, gritting his teeth as they headed to the door towards the outside. Since the exit was a bit far from their house, they managed to run without getting spotted.

Tango gasped for more breath. He frantically looked around his surroundings for a place to hide, keeping his quivering grip on his sister's wrist as they escaped with their lives. He could hear screaming voices from behind, glancing back to see the same fire people who kill-

No! They're not dead!

Father was really strong, so much so that he could carry a bear with one hand without batting an eye. He could beat those guys easily! And mother was there with him, too. With her powerful potions, she could heal father in an instant.

That's why the blood and screaming was all in his imagination. There was no way they would go down without a fight.

A squeak snapped him out of his thoughts, realizing that he wasn't holding her wrist anymore. When he turned back, he gasped to see his sister stumbling on the floor. As he was about to get her, something grabbed the scruff of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. He heard his sister screaming, only to find fire igniting dangerously where she used to be.

“I-It used to keep me at night but when I met you guys, it sort of… faded. But recently, they got worse again.”

Everything was a blur, but he could vaguely remember fighting for his life and managed to escape. He spotted a small and rickety old house ahead, not hesitating to barge in and lock the door. He covered his mouth with both hands, listening as the footsteps gradually fainted.

When it was completely quiet, he released a breath of relief and looked around the building. It was so small and cramped even for him. There was something on the floor, crouching to pick it up. He inspected it of what seemed to be a woman with her dress and long hair decorated with sunflowers, pressing a few grain crops to herself and gripping a raised sword with a free hand, only to recognize that the object had a similar design to the statues of deities like the ones in churches.

But what was a smaller one doing here?

All of a sudden, he couldn't feel any strength in his legs, flopping to the floor with a thud. He tried to get up, but he felt weak everywhere. As the thought of being alone crossed his mind, he couldn't stop himself from crying. He could only tuck his knees to his chest and hugged himself, mourning what he had lost.

Relieving the past makes Tango gasp desperately for breath, clutching a trembling hand to his soaked shirt (since when did it start raining) as he feels as if his heart is about to burst.

Tango wavers as he holds back the tears from falling, “It- The nightmares returned a-at full force, letting me see my sister crying for help a-as she was getting killed in front of me over and over and over and over—”

Something hits him from behind and cuts him off, releasing an oof from the impact as he realizes that Impulse is embracing him from behind, umbrella being long forgotten.

“I'm here for you, Tango. You can let it all out now.” Impulse softly reassures, tightening his firm but comfortable hold.

As if a dam breaks, the tears in his eyes blend along with the rain falling from the sky, accompanying him with his grief.

Honestly, Tango didn't know what he was expecting anymore when he told Skizz and Zed what he shared with Impulse the other day. The second he finished the story, he was immediately buried by comforting hugs, scolding him for being dumb and for not telling them sooner. He already said this before, but he's still doing it now.

He doesn't deserve to have such amazing friends.

The clanging of utensils hitting against plates fill the dining area as they eat their respective meals. Tango scoops a few meat cuts to his mouth and chews it, silently enjoying the rich flavor.

“Tango.”

He looks up at the mention of his name, making eye contact with Skizz who's sitting across the table.

“Yeah?” Tango responds, letting his friend know that he's got his attention.

“Do you mind taking us to the cemetery and the shrine? I wanna pay my respects.” Skizz fidgets with his spoon as he asks apprehensively. “You don't have to, though, if you're uncomfortable!” He frantically follows up.

“Sure? But why the shrine?” Tango tilts his head to the side.

“To thank the deity for protecting you. We wouldn't have you here if it weren't for them.”

Tango feels something tickling inside of him after hearing that, the statement rendering him speechless as he can only gape silently.

“I- I don't mind.” Tango rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze as he feels his face heating up. “I already repaired it years ago, but it's due for a spring cleaning. I can bring you there in my spare time. Well, if my superior allows it, any–”

A knock on the door cuts him off, furrowing his brows to express his displeasure clearly.

“Who is it?” Tango politely asks in a loud voice.

“Etho. Is this a bad time?” The muffled deep voice is enough for everyone in the room to perk up.

“No!” Tango sprints to the door and opens it. “We just finished our lunch, but if you want some…” He steps to the side to welcome the man.

“Nah, I already ate.” Etho shakes his head, exposing the gill slits on his neck that are usually obscured by the fur hood. “I have something to show you guys now that I caught all of you on your day off.” He steps in and beelines to the dining area as Tango closes the door behind him.

“It's Etho!” Skizz screams like a girl.

“Whoo!” Impulse cups both hands around his mouth.

“Oh, my goodness!” Zed gasps.

“Hey, everybody!” Etho smiles and reveals his razor sharp teeth.

“There's still an extra space beside Zed if you wanna sit, Etho.” Tango offers as he returns to his own.

“Thanks, but I'll have to be standing to show you this.” Etho digs through his inside pockets, pulling out what seems to be a donut sized disc with a gradient of blue and green colored labels. “Do you have a jukebox here somewhere?” He turns his head around.

“It's by the table in the living room where we just came in.” Tango points to the said area.

The white-haired man leaves for a moment but not long after, they can hear the thumping of footsteps approaching their way, indicating that he's returning. Once he arrives, he settles down the pumpkin sized music player on the table, with Impulse and Zed taking out the dirty dishes to provide Etho more room to work with. Tango assists in pulling out the cover while Skizz quietly watches them work with sparkly eyes.

Once they exposed the cartridge, Etho removes one disc and inserts his own before Tango closes it again.

“Since there's a solar cell in your jukebox, can I assume that it's already fully charged?” Etho points to the silicon rectangle at the topmost corner.

“Yep!” Tango pops the p, placing his fists to his hips. “The sunlight enters through the window of the living room early in the morning until the afternoon, so it should have a sufficient amount of power.”

With the confirmation, Etho presses the play button and the jukebox instantly comes to life, producing a short melodic phrase that repeats the same tune over and over. It may sound like there's nothing more to it until he can vividly hear it gradually getting louder, ending the loop with a beat drop as it cuts itself off, progressing into a more upbeat tone accompanied by a trumpet playing the similar melody from earlier.

“What the- You're listening to it without us!” Zed sprints to the room and skids into a stop, scoffing in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”

“It has a really good bop to it.” Impulse enters before dancing along with the music.

“Right? When are you gonna stop being amazing, dude?” Tango shakes his head fondly.

“You ain't seen nothing yet!” Etho chuckles and grins ear to ear. “I'm already working on the next one and I don't mean to brag, but I think it's gonna be the best one yet.”

“Somebody stop this man.” Tango sighs deeply.

“Unfortunately, it's taking us a while, so I don't know when I can showcase it to you.” Etho slumps his shoulders as he solemnly adds.

“Well, all of us will take a while to defend the borders, so at least we'll have something to look forward to when we come back.” Tango places a hand on his chin as he muses. “You better finish it until then, alright? No rush, of course.” He finishes with a soft smile.

He doesn't have any idea how Etho somehow manages to know when any of them are down, but he welcomes the warm gift whenever he tries to cheer them up. The nostalgic feeling of the music eases his tense nerves, calming him down after that stressful emotional rollercoaster.

He'll make sure that Etho gets to play his game to show his appreciation. Based on the man's love for thrill and adventure, he'll surely love what the chamber has to offer and have a good time.

“Colonel Moonlight!”

Tango turns his attention to the human soldier entering his tent, stopping to frantically catch their breath. He has a bad feeling about this.

“What is it?” Tango replies with an even tone as he hides his clammy hands that are curled into fists behind him, standing to his full height to assert dominance despite his entire nerves growing cold on him.

“The enemy had anti-voidwalker and anti-vampire countermeasures. And unfortunately…”

The loud ringing in his ears amplified to a few hundred decibels, unable to hear the rest of the report and Skizz's call of concern.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Despite the bright weather shining down on the town, the mood in the room has never been glummer as the news about the conscription is still fresh in everyone's minds. Tango’s dread envelops his entire body, feeling as if he's in the middle of a snowstorm. He's already aware of the plan made by the higher ups a few weeks back, but the announcement just makes it more inevitable.

His friends are going to war.

“Uh, I bet my limbs will be so sore during the training. Don't you agree?” Zed breaks the silence as he chuckles awkwardly.

“Right? Luckily, I'm gonna be part of the avian squad, so here's hoping that I won't be as sore as you.” Skizz leans back on his seat, planting his head on his interlaced hands as a makeshift headrest.

Tango curls his fists and grits his teeth.

“Why do I have to be in the assault squad?” Zed groans. “Curse me and my teleportation abilities.” He murmurs with a frown and crosses his arms for good measure.

“Don't worry, man! At least we're gonna be in the same platoon, so I can support you in any way I can.” Impulse pats his hand on Zed's shoulder.

“You're the best—”

He slams both hands on the table, stopping the conversation in an instant. He senses the gazes boring into his soul as everyone focuses their attention on him, waiting for him to do something.

“How the hell can you guys stay calm in a situation like this? You do realize that you're going to war, right? You're running towards your death!” Tango yells, glaring in his friends' directions.

The subtle rustling of wind from outside is the only thing filling the quiet and stifling atmosphere, instantly shifting the momentary light vibe back to its darker tone.

“There's nothing we can do, Tango. You of all people should know this.” Impulse sighs in defeat.

“But you can! Aren't the Bloodraven one of the noble families who can refuse conscription if they so choose?” Tango exclaims as he points a finger to the vampire's direction. “Then why did you willingly join?”

“I- I don't want to sit back and wait while all of you are risking your lives out there.” Impulse replies with determination.

“That's bullshit, is what it is!” Tango grabs Impulse's collar with a glare, making him go down to his level.

Impulse grips Tango's shoulder in return, digging his claws through his clothes and piercing his flesh.

“Let. Go.” Impulse growls.

Tango huffs, “Make me.”

Something touches the hand that's holding Impulse's shoulder, pulling it out with tremendous strength as he's forced to let go. At the same time, he senses the grip on his shoulder, assuming that the vampire is experiencing the same thing. In an instant, they got separated from each other, seeing Skizz standing between them with his arms stretched.

“Alright, that's enough!” Skizz announces, intercepting quickly. “You don't wanna say something you might regret.”

“He started it!” Impulse scoffs with an eye roll.

“I just want less of my friends getting involved with fixing my stupid mess!” Tango shouts, clenching his quivering hand to his constricted chest. “Isn't that too much to ask?” He whimpers, feeling the back of his eyeballs ache.

The room falls silent apart from Tango's breathing, seeing his friends are all staring at him with various degrees of confusion.

“What do you mean by that?” Zed furrows his brows.

“I…” The lump in his throat prevents him from progressing. “...sent a-all those soldiers to their deaths.” He barely manages a whisper as his vision blurs, sensing the tears falling from his eyes.

Raising his organic arm, he frantically wipes the waterworks with his sleeve, drying them off in shame. He doesn't deserve to shed tears, not when his orders were the reason why a lot of the families lost their beloved ones. Many children don't get to see their fathers anymore because of him. If only he was a better tactician, no one would've died at the hands of their enemies.

If only someone else was the leader, they probably would've done a better job. His friends will probably be in safe hands, otherwise they won't have this dumb argument in the first place.

“I'm sorry.”

Tango raises his head instantly, gaping in confusion.

“What?” He blurts with a croak.

“You know, for lashing at you. You're just trying to protect us, but I disrespected it with my anger.” Impulse explains solemnly.

“D-Don't apologize. I—” Tango steps back, unable to form words as he feels something stirring inside of him.

“How about all of us promise not to die? How does that sound?” Zed suggests as he makes steady eye contact.

“Yeah!” Skizz frantically nods. “Now you won't have to worry about our sorry butts.”

“I think the butts we needed to worry over here are yours.” Impulse teases with a smirk.

“Hey!” Skizz squawks while Zed giggles in the background.

Tango huffs fondly at the banter, covering his mouth as he feels the smile creeping up on his cheeks, feeling the welling sensation from inside of him dissipating.

“Fine.” Tango exhales. “Don't you dare die, then. Or I'll kill all of you myself.” He clenches his fists, steeling his resolve.

It's finally time.

It's been a couple of months since then, enduring all the hardships of training that made him vomit from the exhaustion. Despite all the things he learned, Skizz can't help the frozen solid nerves keeping him in place, unable to snap himself out of the apprehension blooming inside.

Despite the loud engine of the vehicle that's going to bring them to the southern border overwhelming the other soldiers’ voices, it can't drown out the noise of his throbbing chest. The tires screech as the vehicle skids into a stop, indicating that they're finally at their destination. His twisted stomach has never been more painful as he wills his limbs to eject himself from the backseat.

He doesn't remember anything after that.

What he's aware of, however, is the smell of gunpowder, the deafening explosions, the screams of people in all directions, the numb and tingling feeling on his wings from all the flying, and worse of all…

The smell of blood being the strongest.

Something warm lands on his shoulder, flinching violently and turns around, only to exhale in relief at the sight of a familiar face.

“You scared me! Jeez!” Skizz yells. “You should've called me ahead of time, man.”

“I did!” Tango squawks. “I kept calling your stupid name when I entered, but you weren't responding. I thought you hit your head or something.” He sits down on the ground beside Skizz.

“What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be making strategies in your tent?” Skizz raises a brow in question.

“I was, but I heard that you injured your wings and fell from the sky.” Tango fidgets with his hands as he explains casually.

Skizz feels his chest warming up at his friend's concern, melting the frozen nerves that somehow remained solid since the start of this whole ordeal.

“Thanks, buddy! But I can assure you that I fell on my butt, so no concussions over this noisy brain of mine.” Skizz beams as he wraps an arm around Tango's shoulders.

“Oh, no! Impulse was right!” Tango teases.

“Shut up!” Skizz is meant to scream, but his giggle falters it.

He's suddenly aware of the many eyes staring towards their way, making him stop and self-conscious. He immediately lets go of his friend and keeps his hands to himself.

“Should we move to my tent? I highly doubt you're allowed to be deployed again with that wound, so I could use the company.” Tango suggests, thankfully. “The effects of the caffeine are starting to run out, unfortunately. I need you to talk my ears off and keep me awake.” He fakes a yawn as he stands up.

“We can't have that now, can we?” Skizz goes along, feigning concern.

The trip to their destination is quiet despite being in the middle of the battlefield. No overwhelming sensations whatsoever, which is a win in his book. As they enter, he spots a huge table in the middle of the area, noticing a map being laid out along with colorful markers of what he can assume is their and the enemies’ positions.

He settles down on a chair by the corner while Tango beelines to what seems to be a portable coffee machine.

“Seriously?” Skizz comments with a judging tone, raising a brow.

“It's more efficient than dragging the actual thing all the way out here!” Tango whines, busying his wands by brewing himself a new cup of coffee. “I know you enjoy the caffeine as much as I do, so you don't get to complain, alright?”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” Skizz moves his hands into a placating gesture.

While waiting for the machine to do its thing, Tango walks to the table and immediately frowns, humming as he mumbles something incomprehensible under his breath. Based on the follow-up grumbles, Skizz can only assume that the dwarf is at his wit's end. With a fond huff, he walks to his friend's side, observing the familiar layout being miniaturized in front of him.

“What's wrong, Top?” Skizz starts to announce his presence. “You look like you're about to explode at any moment.”

Tango jolts and turns to make eye contact, opening and closing his mouth to contemplate before sighing in defeat.

“I can't predict what the Enderians’ next move is gonna be.” Tango massages the bridge of his nose. “You noticed how the oxygen is getting thinner, right?”

Skizz nods his head.

It's impossible not to notice, considering how it's getting easier for him to breathe the longer he stays in the Overworld, despite having lungs to accommodate for the vacuum of the void. He can only assume one thing: the other Enderians are breaking bedrock to expose this world to the void to fit their needs.

“I'm already aware that those guys are terraforming in this world somewhere like it's nobody's business, but I can't pinpoint where.” Tango buries his head to his hands, groaning in frustration for good measure. “If only I got the location, I can at least predict what their situation might be based on the resources they receive over there.”

“If they're planning on living here, would it be possible for them to build their settlements in the sky?” Skizz asks thoughtfully.

“What?” Tango gapes.

“A lot of us are flight-based races, so even if people like Zed don't have wings, they still need to stick where the majority of the civilization is. Otherwise, they'd be left behind in more ways than one with how enormous the End is.” Skizz elaborates.

“Skizz, you're a genius!” Tango grabs his shoulders as he grins. “God, why didn't I think of that? I literally have a friend who doesn't know how to fly even with three pairs of wings!”

“Hey! You jerks flinged me to the sky out of nowhere.” Skizz complains.

Tango lets go and sprints to a barrel filled with rolled papers, going back as he thrashes all the stuff off the table. Skizz watches him with bewilderment, wondering why he would discard his previous strategy, only for Tango to unroll the paper and see the entirety of Overworld in one map.

“How in the void did you manage to obtain that?” Skizz gapes.

“Uh, I have my ways.” Tango shrugs, not looking away from the table.

After a few minutes of nonsensical grumbling from the dwarf, Skizz jumps at the sudden rise of his voice.

“I got it!” Tango yells as he slams both hands on the map's surface. “I know where they are!”

“You do?” Skizz perks up, moving to look over his friend's shoulder to take a peek.

“It's all thanks to you, buddy.” Tango turns to face Skizz, smiling softly. “I wouldn't have figured it out without you.”

Skizz blushes, “Wh- You- I- Flattery will get you nowhere, young man!” He stutters as he awkwardly chuckles.

“With this knowledge, we can finally get a chance at ending this ‘great’ war once and for all.” Tango slumps his shoulders, looking relaxed for the first time in a very long time.

And apparently it's all thanks to him. Seriously, how is he gonna react to that? He's usually known to screw things up even in his home dimension. He was backstabbed a few times for his naivety, causing him to distance himself and lose trust. Until he met Tango and the others. Then his situation got worse when he befriended them, getting banished for ‘betraying’ his own kind while being shunned by the Overworlders for destroying their home.

He doesn't regret it, though.

Not one bit.

He's been the happiest with them than his own kind in his life!

“Colonel Moonlight!”

Skizz jumps violently at an unfamiliar voice, turning to watch a human soldier entering Tango's tent, stopping to frantically catch their breath.

Crap. He has a bad feeling about this.

“What is it?” Tango replies with an even tone as he hides his clenched hands behind him, standing to his full height and emits an intimidating air, the polar opposite of his casual demeanor a second ago.

“The enemy had anti-voidwalker and anti-vampire countermeasures. And unfortunately, the southeastern border has been conquered by the army led by the Hand and the Ogre.”

The mere mention of those nicknames makes the hair on Skizz's body stand on it, feeling his stomach dropping at the news.

Zed and Impulse went there.

“Tango?” Skizz watches the dwarf's reaction, only to see none. He shivers at the eerie sight, but the tears overflowing from grief overtakes it. “Please tell me that they're fine.” He whimpers.

Tango doesn't hesitate to jump his way and embraces him. With the height difference, Skizz bends his knees and buries his soaked face on the dwarf's shoulder, muffling his cries. He grips the man's clothing like a lifeline, sensing Tango's organic hand rubbing soothing circles on his heaving back.

“Good work, soldier. You are dismissed.” He can hear Tango's even voice dismissing the third person in the tent.

When Skizz feels that he's run out of tears, he lets go of his friend's clothing, making it the other's cue to break the hug.

“Are you okay?” Tango asks with furrowed brows.

“Y-Yeah.” Skizz sniffs, wiping his face clean from snot and tears with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” Tango softly smiles, but the metaphorical light that's usually in his eyes is concerningly missing.

The knuckles dig through Tango's cheek as Gem's fist lands successfully, stumbling back from the impact and falls on the ground with a thud. His service dress uniform is definitely stained, but he doesn't care.

“Gemstone!” He hears Skizz screaming as Gem growls at the same time, accompanied by shuffling.

He caresses his swollen cheek and looks up, only to see Gem thrashing as she tries to escape from Skizz's underarm restraint.

“Skizz, let me go!” Gem demands.

“Tango, run!” Skizz pleads instead.

“How dare you join my brother's funeral when you sent him to his death!” Gem cries, still relentless as he tries to free herself, wrinkling her black dress in the process.

“Why are you so freaking strong?” Skizz grits his teeth.

Tango stands up from the floor and follows his friend's request, running away while hearing Gem demanding for him to come back.

The alarm rings in the background, but Tango disregards it, focusing on staring at the ceiling as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. He can hear the world already waking up from the open window, feeling the warmth of the sunlight entering and illuminating his dark room. He doesn't know how long he's been spacing out but at one point, he finally feels like getting up.

His bare feet lands on the dusty floor, sensing his steps a bit slippery as he heads to the storage room to fetch himself some cleaning tools. It's been a while since he last cleaned his house, so he'll use his request to leave to do all his chores before leaving for work again. He'll have to give Wels a gift when he gets back.

Once he's finished cleaning his bedroom and dumping his sheets in the solar-powered washing machine, he moves to the living room. His hands move mechanically, sweeping the dust towards the dust pan with precision.

From the corner of the area, he can hear a clicking sound, glancing to see the copper golem pressing a button on a wall. In a second, the ceiling lights activate, illuminating the floor. With a sigh, he sets the cleaning tools aside and picks up the tiny robot and moves it to his bedroom, closing the door with a gentle thud.

He finishes sweeping the room and goes outside to dump it in the trash, returning inside to see his lights flickering on and off repeatedly. As he arrives, he spots the same culprit before moving his gaze to his room, only to see the door ajar. He quietly hums and grabs the golem and returns it to his room, making sure to lock it this time. He'll have to use the key when he's about to sleep, but at least it won't bother him anymore.

The hissing noise from the washing machine stops, making it his cue to hang his sheets by the sun. When he returns, he picks up his mop and dumps it into a bucket full of soap water solution before cleaning the floor. He reaches under the furniture, making sure that every spot is dirt-free. He stands back up once he's finished, wiping his sweat-soaked forehead with a sleeve.

A ding can be heard from the kitchen, almost forgetting that he actually cooked something in the oven. He grabs the bucket with the now dirty water with him before dumping it at the drain outside. He washes his hands and wipes it dry using his shirt, grabbing himself a mitten for his organic hand as he opens the oven door, taking out the chicken and allows it to dry on the dining table.

He stretches his arms above his head, popping his joints with a satisfied hum as he feels his muscles relaxing, ready to continue with the ‘spring’ cleaning.

As he returns to the living room to fetch his supplies, he can hear the constant clicking accompanied by the flickering of lights, sensing his blood boil while sprinting to the culprit. He swiftly slams a hand and throws the copper golem to the ground, stomping it over and over as his frustrated screams grow louder and louder in every second.

The sudden rage emerging from the depths of his soul is overwhelming him, bursting like a dormant volcano finally erupting to life, unable to stop as he smashes the golem and breaks it into numerous pieces, only halting as he wheezes for air. Once it feels like he can breathe again, he watches the red oozing from his bare feet and winces at the sting.

Out of nowhere, he laughs at the sight, vibrating from the uncontrollable entertainment as he drops on the floor, careful of his injury. He doesn't have a clue why it's funny as hell, but he can't stop himself. It's like an invisible creature is secretly tickling him, targeting every sensitive spot of his body with accurate precision for its own leisure. As if a switch has been turned on, tears easily flow from his eyes like a river, blurring his vision in an instant.

All the memories of having fun with his friends flash before his eyes, rubbing salt into his wound as he breaks down in his living room, bleeding from the self-inflicted wound.

Why is this happening now?

It's been a while since the battle ended, since they—

He never shead a tear when he was comforting Skizz, staying by his side while mourning for his best friends. He didn't do it when he attended the funeral, and Gem's bone-breaking punch didn't do anything to trigger it.

Why now?

The itch in his chest refuses to go away, so he frantically stands with gritted teeth, thrashing the items and inventions from the shelves, shattering them on the floor. He ignores the copper shards digging through the sole of his foot as he moves on to the coffee table, turning it over and drops every item on top of it, including the jukebox that still contains Etho's music that they listened a while back, the reminder causing his chest to itch more.

It's all his fault!

He roars in rage and thrashes at the walls, breaking every picture frame in sight along with his wall clock. The burning sensation welling in his body still isn't satisfied, so he slams his bedroom door open, not caring how he accidentally breaks the knob and proceeds to wreck all the cleaning his made a few hours prior, leaving numerous pieces of his trinkets being dumped on the floor along with the overturned cabinets and bed. Not only that, he rips the curtains from the windows, yelping at the sudden sunlight piercing through his eyes and looks away.

How dare he live like this when his friends are gone!

Even with it giving him time to stop, he doesn't. Every movement he makes after that is rendered into a blur, but the mishmash of unexplainable emotions have never been more clear. If they can ooze out from every orifice based on how overwhelming they feel, they probably would've done it already.

Why is he even here?

After what feels like an eternity of pain, he drops to the floor unceremoniously, wheezing like a large truck as his limbs tremble uncontrollably from overexertion. He can hear a door slamming, not paying it any mind. A few thumping noises follow, gradually getting louder as a familiar voice catches his attention.

“Tango!”

He feels himself getting lifted from the floor by strong arms, carrying him bridal style as the person brings him to the living room, where the couch is back to its original spot with a certain Etho sitting down.

“Etho?” Tango tries to call, but his aching throat makes him produce a croak instead.

Why did it hurt so much?

“Can you fetch him some water, Etho?” He senses Skizz vibrating because of how he's leaning against the man's torso.

“Sure.” Etho leaves the room.

Skizz carefully settles him down on the now empty couch, walking away to leave him alone. Not long after, the winged man returns with a first-aid kit and kneels in front of him. He numbly cooperates as his friend takes care of his wound, wincing from time to time and receives a few apologies.

He accepts the offered glass of water with numb hands, almost dropping but manages to regain his grip and drinks it dry.

As the silence feels a bit too much, Tango decides to fill it in himself.

“What are you doing here?” Tango groggily questions, wincing at the sting still present in his throat.

“Someone heard a ruckus from your house and asked for my help.” Skizz answers with an even voice, not looking up from his task.

Tango is about to open his mouth but as if reading his mind, Skizz continues.

“I met Etho on the way, wanting to tag along because he apparently wants to tell you something.”

The memory of the white-haired man showcasing his music disc with everyone makes him clench his fists quietly.

“If you're not up for it, I'll come back another time.” Etho reassures him with a strained smile.

“I have the time.” Tango shrugs numbly.

Etho pulls out a box, holding a handle beside it with his thumb and index finger before winding it up. A muffled song can be heard and when Etho opens the box, the room is immediately engulfed with the high-pitched and melancholic melody.

“I was supposed to show this before you… Anyway.” Etho starts but cuts himself, not hesitating to change the topic. Good. “It's a preview of the thing that I told you last time. Unfortunately, it took me longer than expected when I was fine tuning it. When Doc and the others are finally free, we'll proceed with the recording immediately.”

“Oh. Team tall and short is gonna be behind this elusive new project?” Tango goes along, hearing Skizz wheezing quietly before going back to his work, making his lips curve slightly to form a smile.

“Yep! Doc made this redstone guitar and wanted to try it. Beef will be playing the redstone accordion, which is another one of Doc's amazing inventions.” Etho perks up, animatedly sharing inside information. “But don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Wow! Doc's really cooking. I bet it's gonna be really awesome.” Skizz chimes in.

“It is.” Etho nods. “Bdubs is gonna play the guitar, and he'ss in charge of a couple sounds that will hopefully unite everything using redstone.”

Despite the sad-sounding music, it eases a bit of the ache that Tango feels, calming down his nerves.

“Aren't you gonna ask?” Tango fidgets with his hands, catching both of their attention from the question.

“Do you…” Skizz cuts himself.

“...want us to?” Etho continues with furrowed brows.

Tango opens his mouth, contemplating if he wants to or not.

“No.” Tango shakes his head. “I appreciate the company, though.”

“We gotcha, buddy!” Skizz beams.

Someone's stomach growls, turning his head to the source and sees Etho growing as pink as a tomato, averting his gaze as if it'll hide him from his embarrassment.

"Someone's hungry." Skizz teases with a chuckle.

"I can't help it. I haven't had anything to eat since dinner last night. I just had to finish the music box." Etho murmurs, hiding the lower half of his mouth with a hand absentmindedly.

"Does this mean you'll have to leave?" Tango swallows the lump in his throat before confirming with an even voice.

Etho stares in his direction for a moment, waiting as if he's looking for something. Tango averts his eyes at the burning gaze but luckily for him, the white-haired man spares him by looking somewhere.

"I saw that chicken by the dining room, and it looks a bit appetizing, if you ask me." Etho drawls the syllable. "If you don't mind..."

"Stay as long as you need for... what time is it? Lunch? Dinner? Whatever." Tango frantically nods his head, receiving a few chuckles from both of his friends.

The melody ends but luckily, Etho rewinds his invention once more, filling the room with its soft tones as they enjoy it quietly. He's thankful for the company, even if it doesn't last long.