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The creeper explosion tore through the air, setting off a series of reactions that left a gaping crater in the still-falling snow. The world ground to a stop as the last player died, the game won and finished. Slowly, the sky faded of its red colour, the stars shining through the deep navy that seemed to swell and envelop the world. Words rang on the wind as the sky consumed the world, crumbling dirt and stone back into the fabric of space: "Christmas is cancelled! I'll go out on my own terms."
Matter stretched and bent as the world finished deconstructing, leaving the Void to settle. Five players, their colours faded while their outlines glowed silver, appeared in a circle, facing inward toward each other, none of them making eye contact. A pinprick of light started to glow at their epicentre, gradually expanding until it was a rough ball of softly glowing fluid, floating in space.
Slowly, it stretched and bent until it took the shape of a person, staring at his hands like he was holding a cherished weapon. The glittering outline of a mace faded away as he finally looked up, colours slowly setting into his skin and clothing, much brighter and more vibrant than the others around him.
The first breath he took was a shuddering one, the thin air of the Void filling his lungs. Each breath after was faster and shorter, deep and gasping inhales that echoed in the vastness of the Void. Slowly, then with rising urgency, he began to move, first his fingers, then his arms and legs, and finally his torso and head, moving in a panicked and accelerating haze, jerking from one action to another with no sense of connectivity or continuation.
Joel gasped, hands rising to his face and pulling and prying at his features. One hand found his hair and pushed through it, disturbing brown and green locks as he hugged his stomach with his other hand, fingers pinching and pushing at the fabric. His outline glowed harder, more intensely, as his legs folded beneath him and he fell to his knees, only to overbalance and fall in the near-zero gravity of the Void. He spun, out of control, pushing against the almost nonexistent substance of the Void as he fought through the power that surged in his body, his face creased as he adapted.
The others around him watched, bound to their places until the ritual was complete. Their faces were a range of smiling expressions, ranging from tamed excitement to unrestrained joy as they watched the member of their ranks ascend. The gold surrounding Joel surged in intensity, billowing outwards and retracting as it folded around and into him, tucking the light into his outline as he hyperventilated, powerless to stop it.
Light, jovial music filled the Void, a bouncing and delightful chime marched along by a steady jingle of bells beneath a light and rushing flute. Smoky threads of purple chased each other through the space like paper streamers, accompanied by an echoing and resonant voice chanting the last words of the winner. It overlapped with itself, chanting "Christmas is cancelled! I'll go out on my own terms" with reckless abandon, both complimented by the Watchers' celebration and clashing with it, the words at odds with their surroundings.
Joel absorbed the last flash of gold as the music continued to dance and sing around him, ringing and projecting through the Void. His expression relaxed slightly as his hands trembled, having received the power and now unsure of what to do with it. His outline wavered strongly, jagged edges crackling in and out, deviating and realigning in time with the upbeat energy of the faceless Watchers surrounding him. It was isolating, exclusive, knowing that he was their favourite for however long they decided to flow around him, partly in his dimension and partly in theirs, never giving him the satisfaction of knowing who they were.
The music cut out abruptly, leaving the silence to hum as the Watchers ceased their play and retreated, bored. The purple faded out of the atmosphere almost as rapidly as the music, smoking trails dissipating in effortless lines, dissolving into the air. Still, Joel stayed in the same spot, frozen in place if it weren't for the jitteriness and tremors that ran through his body. His breathing had somewhat regulated, still short and deep, yet spaced further apart as he gave himself more time to exhale, heart thrumming in his chest.
With the Watchers gone, the other players finally moved, coming out of their rigid circle and running toward the player in the centre, crowding around him as he continued to shake, his outline changing and morphing as he tried to conquer the energy he had been flooded with.
"Welcome back!!" Martyn exclaimed, the first to reach him. He thumped Joel on the back, setting him upright, and clasped his shoulder tightly with one hand, the weight forming a grounding presence as Joel finally found himself, looking up at all of them with a broad grin.
"It's interesting that they're letting you stick around," Scott commented, his tone light and joking as he watched Grian tackle Joel, shouting something impossible to follow about how cool that ending was. "Nice Life was a holiday special, after all."
"It's 'cause I've won before, idiot," Joel shot back over Grian's tumble of words, fixing Scott with a glare before smirking. "It's good to be here again."