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If someone were to ask the Spoke that still knew himself, he would say that he always needed somebody by his side.
At first he had Jamato. And that was… it was really nice. They tested exploits together, Jamato gave him his prized armor, and they could’ve had something good if Wemmbu hadn’t shown up to wreck it all and force his hand. If Jamato had just… agreed to ban Wemmbu with him, instead of abandoning him. They could’ve been so much more, yet Jamato chose to leave. And all Spoke had left to know if Jamato had cared was some stupid book that anyone could have found.
Next, there was Mapicc. His partner in crime and best friend, crucial in helping him destroy the vaults of duped items. They did almost everything together, from just messing around, to disabling illegal farms, to evading the mafia. They infiltrated the mafia together, climbed the ranks, and then…
Then, there was Minute. Minute, who was strong and capable and the perfect friend to fit into a trio with Spoke and Mapicc. Minute, who rejoined the mafia as a diamond player to save himself. Minute, who Spoke has watched perfectly mace fully geared mafia soldiers, yet was somehow unable to kill Spoke and Planet. Minute, who, when fighting Spoke alone, didn’t even use his mace at all. Minute, who sacrificed himself for Spoke until he no longer had a life to lay down.
Now, there is Ash. Ash has made it a point to Spoke that the mafia is his home now. The comfort he once had in his last companions is long gone. What Spoke knows of himself now is that sometimes, he is Fish Bucket, Ash’s proclaimed ‘favorite Diamond trim.’ And other times, he is what’s left of ‘Spoke.’ Ash doesn’t like that side of him, the weakness he could never truly purge from himself.
For the first week after Minute’s death, Ash had shown Spoke an unnatural kindness. He didn’t send him out on any missions, letting him grow accustomed to the chambers of Diamond players. He spent that week cleaning Minute’s mace, over and over, which proved to be futile. No matter how clean the mace got, the blood on his hands continued dirtying it, over and over again. Blood that could never be truly washed off of himself, that Spoke sees every time he looks in the mirror or down at his hands. After a week of futility, he realizes that the blood will follow him wherever he goes. He carries the sins on the handle of the mace. Spoke decides, after that revelation, to use it as his main weapon. He puts it in an anvil, renames it, and walks out of his chamber for the first time since he entered it.
Ash is standing outside, as if expecting him.
“I hope you’ve had ample time to recover and get used to your quarters, Fish Bucket,” He greets, “The diamond chambers really are nice, aren’t they? Luxurious furniture, private restrooms, I feel as though you guys are really pampered. What do you think?”
Spoke pulls out a sign, only to be stopped by Ash, who presses a hand over his arm.
“Tell me yourself,” He says simply, “It’s not like we both don’t know who you are.”
Spoke doesn’t pretend that this is anything but the submission Ash wants him to show.
“The chambers are nice,” Spoke says anyway, “Better living conditions than I’ve had in a long time.”
Ash grins. Spoke can see the cruelty layered inside of it. He suppresses a shudder.
“It’s good you had a nice time then,” He nods, “I give only the best for my best players, and of course, I expect the same in return. That being said, I hope you’re ready for your next mission. You performed the last one so fantastically, so I’m quite excited to see what you have in store for this one.”
He’s talking about Minute. He’s talking about him like he’s just another thing, like he wasn’t a person with real feelings and strength that Spoke himself doesn’t even have anymore.
“With such ample time to rest,” Ash continues, “I’m sure you’ll have no problem performing this next mission for me. There are two traitors that need to be taken care of.”
He hands Spoke a book. Spoke opens it, and promptly closes it. What.. the fuck. What the hell is Ash making him do?
“Mapicc and Leo?” He says, trying his best to keep his voice steady. He can’t let Ash see the weakness in him again, can’t let him exploit something else from him.
“Is there a problem?” Ash asks, raising a brow. Spoke is quick to shake his head. He can figure something out. He knows he can.
“Good,” Ash grins, “Well, you should be off. I want to work on my mixtape. You know where to find them, I’m sure.”
Spoke has no room to argue. Once again, he was too weak to stand up for himself, for Mapicc, against Ash.
At least he’s letting Spoke handle this. Maybe Spoke will be able to conjure up a plan to fake Mapicc’s and Leo’s deaths, or something of the sort. He doesn’t know. The only thing he knows is that he can’t let Mapicc die.
He walks out, barely able to contain his rage at the situation. He’s only able to let himself breathe properly when he makes it outside, enough of a walk away from being near Ash.
No more figuring it out as he goes. He doesn’t care what the punishment is anymore. He’s going to let them live. He’ll pop their totems, let them flee, and go back to face the consequences later.
He hopes Ash just kills him.
Knowing his best friend as well as he does, Spoke doesn’t take long to find him. Mapicc is still in the process of fleeing Mafia City with Leo, soaring through the skies with their elytras.
He follows them from a distance, making sure to use as much cover as he can so they don’t catch wind of him.
This chase lasts for what Spoke assumes to be around ten thousand blocks before they land on the ground to discuss. Spoke drinks a bottle of invis and lands in a nearby tree, peering at them through the leaves.
“I couldn’t find Spoke anywhere in there,” Mapicc sighs, “Any luck with you?”
They were looking for him. Risking their lives just to see if he was in the city. Spoke doesn’t like what that does to his heart. They shouldn’t care for a monster like him.
“It’s likely he’s at the diamond level,” Leo responds, “If you want to find him, you’ll have to check there. I didn’t see him anywhere I looked. It’s the only place we haven’t searched.”
He can’t let them find him. He can’t let them know about him. To know too much is to suffer the price of that knowledge. And Spoke can’t think of any price for Ash to make them pay besides death.
But that’s why he’s here now, isn’t he?
No. He won’t kill them. He won’t let them die.
But he does have to attack. Now.
He wind charges up, landing a mace hit on Leo right before he could get the chance to react. It doesn’t pop his totem, but Spoke is certain that it was close to doing so.
“Dude, Leo, they followed us, oh my God," Mapicc hisses, pulling out his sword and shield.
“You think I can’t see that?” Leo yells back, deflecting another mace attack from Spoke.
He can’t give them time to react. They’re fighting back now, but Spoke just needs them to pop their totems, maybe some pieces of their armor, and he can let them go. As long as Ash has the chance of seeing that he tried his best to kill them, he might forgive him for failing to do so.
The sounds of their voices become nothing but white noise to him. Spoke is only focused on one thing: Doing enough damage to hurt, but not enough to kill. He can’t kill them. He won’t.
Minute wouldn’t kill them. He just needs to fight like Minute. Fast, ruthless, but merciful to those who he can be merciful to.
It’s only after Spoke’s armor is on extremely low durability, and Mapicc and Leo are missing a piece of theirs each, that he hears the words, “Leo, dude, I think this might be Minute..!”
And he stops. Stops fighting, stops moving, stops everything.
He has to keep himself from laughing.
He can fight like Minute. He can think like Minute. But he will never be Minute. Minute was greater than Spoke could ever hope to be.
Confused, Mapicc and Leo step back, but don’t dare drop their guards.
Spoke pulls out a sign and frantically types something out before they can attack him.
“just go”
Mapicc looks like he has questions, but Leo nudges him, saying, “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just get out of here while he’s going to let us.”
And they do. Spoke watches them soar away, content with the fact that they’re safe and getting further away from where he can hurt them.
And he did. He hurt them badly, all in a desperate attempt to prove himself. There’s something truly wrong with him. But at least they’re alive. At least he had the capability of sparing someone.
That relief doesn’t last him long. After he returns to Ash and explains his failure, he watches Ash’s expression fall to one of pure rage.
“You didn’t kill them?” Ash glares at Spoke, who hangs his head, “Your care for them is making you weak again, Spoke. Your potential is boundless, but your former connections are holding you back. What am I to do with you, Spoke? How should I punish this weakness?”
Spoke looks up, trembling. No matter what, he doesn’t want Mapicc to die. No matter how far he has to fall, whoever else he has to kill, he’ll do it as long as Mapicc stays alive.
“I…. Ash, I’m sorry, please, I can’t lose anyone else. I’ll kill anyone else, just… leave Mapicc out of this. He only infiltrated with me because I asked him to, he won’t mess with what we have going on. I’ll do anything else, just-”
“Enough, Spoke,” Ash hisses, “Lower your head.”
Spoke does. He doesn’t dare disobey Ash when he’s angry.
“You disgust me,” Ash continues, “But I won’t give up on you, Spoke. I’m sure that we can fix this weakness of yours, together. In fact, you gave me a fantastic idea. I’ll give you another chance. If you don’t carry this out, then I will kill you and Mapicc. But I know you will. I know I’ll see such great things from you, Fish Bucket.”
Then, Spoke hears the sound of a book hitting the ground, followed by nothing. Spoke looks up, just a little, and sees nothing. Ash stasised away, and in his place is the mission he has to carry out no matter what.
Spoke grabs the book. With shaky hands, he opens it to find:
ROLE: DIAMOND
TYPE: ASSASSINATION
GOAL: KILL TARGET
IGN: BeckyTronVIII
REWARD: MAPICC’S LIFE
COORDS: -99300 -77300
BeckyTron. He remembers that name.
He’s trembling. She did nothing wrong, but he did what he had to do. She was just a child, and yet he… with hardly any hesitation…
He looks at the cornflower in his hand, walking up the stairs to the siblings’ unfinished house. The only reminder left of her existence. It shouldn’t belong to him. It should go to…
“Rose?” He hears Beckytron call, “Are you up here? Did you start the… Rose?”
He scales the unfinished ladder, stepping up onto the ledge in front of Becky and nearly slipping off as his legs struggle to keep steady.
He can’t stay here anymore. He drops the cornflower, watching the horror of realization strike the kid’s face. Spoke equips his elytra.
“Who are you?” Becky screams, and Spoke tries, tries, fails to drown out the sound of his cries as he flies further and further, “WHO ARE YOU? What’d you- Where’s my sister??? Where is my sister…?”
He finished the mission. That’s what matters. He proved himself to Ash, and he can still proceed with his plan. And later on, if he does more research, maybe he can find what Rose did to deserve this.
These are the lies he tells himself. Deep down, he knows the truth that he can’t bring himself to admit.
How should he have expected anything else? He’s certain that Ash doesn’t actually care whether Becky lives or dies. This is just another test of his resolve, just like Rose. He gets it. Every time Spoke steps out of line, Ash makes him lose a little bit more of his humanity with these acts until there’s nothing left of himself to hold back.
He looks at the coords. It’s the exact negatives of where they were building their house. He’s not sure how Becky, without an elytra, was able to travel there so quickly, but he supposes that the kid could have nether travelled or something of the sort.
He can muster up the courage to get this done on the way there. It’s a long flight, so he has lots of time with his thoughts.
There’s no way out of this, he knows as soars through the air, letting off the occasional firework to maintain his velocity. But maybe, somehow, if he goes through with it, then Becky could be in a better place than this. He won’t be all alone anymore. He can be with Rose, and that’s the best he can do for them, and he just can’t find another way to justify this.
To save Mapicc, Spoke must kill another innocent child.
And Spoke knows, deep down, that it was never going to be a choice to start with. He would choose Mapicc every time.
Maybe, after he goes through with this, the knowledge that Mapicc will be safe because of it will be enough to keep him sane.
Oh, Spoke.
You already lost your mind long ago.
…
Upon seeing a house surrounded by snow, he checks his coordinates, confirming he’s in the right destination.
He lands, resplashing his invisibility and seeing no nametags around just yet. He decides to observe the area, see what’s been going on here.
And it’s… a nice place. Remote, cold, yet still able to yield vegetables from the small farm in front of the house. There are four seats around a fireplace that burns bright despite the snow falling around him. It must have been lit recently.
There’s another building next to him, built from wood and moss. Spoke decides to check inside.
There are a few double chests lined up against the wall, and a single chest greets him when he looks down. A two-by-two patch of pink carpet sits behind it, giving Spoke the idea that whoever was building this place didn’t get the chance to finish it.
He doesn’t like the chill that thought sends down his spine.
He scales the ladder he sees to his right, being greeted by a pink double-bed and a completed floor of pink carpet.
He can’t tell exactly why, but the idea of staying in this house makes him feel sick. He needs to leave. He can just… keep investigating the area. Look for Becky. Yeah.
Clearly Becky isn’t anywhere in this area, so he should examine the perimeter, see if he can find him there. He steps out of the house, noticing a small stone structure to his left. He decides to investigate that next.
As he gets closer, he makes note of the candles in the snow, half of them still lit. There’s a sign on the structure, which he’s now close enough to recognize as a cross, but not close enough to make out the writing on it.
But when he’s right in front of it, his heart stops as he realizes what he’s seeing.
RIP
iMajesticRose
Sister, Daughter
You will be missed
Spoke takes a step back, gasping in shock, not realizing that when he stepped forward to read it, he crumbled Rose’s cornflower beneath his boot.
He knows exactly whose house that was now.
And more importantly, Rose’s grave said daughter.
Becky is not the only one here. Spoke has a feeling that the person who brought him here, his father, may be the reason that Ash wanted the kids dead in the first place.
“Dad?” Spoke hears from behind, in a high-pitched voice he recognizes all-too well, “Dad, is that you? Are you back from your trip to get stuff?”
So the father isn’t here. That… makes things easier. At least he won’t have to see it. Maybe Spoke can eventually lie to himself enough to even forget there was a father in the picture.
He turns around.
Becky is facing him, holding a fishing rod in one hand and a large salmon in the other. He’s geared in full unenchanted iron armor, and Spoke doesn’t like that the first thought to cross his mind is how fast that will make the kill be over with.
He decides to talk. He owes the kid that much.
“No,” He starts, squaring his shoulders and holding out a wind charge, “I’m sorry, Becky. I don’t want to do this, but I have to. If it were up to me, we would have never met again.”
“Again,” the kid gasps, trembling in fear and anger, “It’s you, you’re the one who killed my sister. YOU KILLED ROSE!”
And before Spoke can react, Becky lunges forward, switching to an iron sword and swinging it at him. He supposes it’s the adrenaline making a kid able to move like this.
And Spoke… lets him. He lets Becky take as many hits as he wants, even when his sword does half a heart in ten hits, he lets him. Becky deserves this much, at least. Spoke deserves this, too.
He knows he will pay for this sin for the rest of his life. But with the way things are going, that won’t be for much longer anyway.
He wind charges up.
And switches to his mace.
He hears the scream, then the crack, and then nothing.
BeckyTronVIII was slain by SpokeIsHere using Oathbreaker.
Spoke closes his eyes before he can watch the blood splatter everywhere. The sickening crack of Becky’s skull replays over and over, and his ears are ringing harder than they have since Minute died. The combination of the two sounds is sickening.
Spoke has to find a way to justify this to himself before he loses his mind completely. But he can do that after he leaves. He gathers Becky’s stuff, and places it into a chest next to the grave. And that’s when he notices it.
A crushed cornflower, right in front of Rose’s grave. Right where he was standing just a few minutes ago. It doesn’t take a genius to know who’s responsible.
He can’t stay here anymore. He can’t deal with the weight of his actions right now. He did this for Mapicc. That’s what matters. He saved Mapicc.
At least it was… it was quick. Mace deaths usually are. Minute taught him that. He told himself that if he just fights like Minute, if he makes everything quick, then maybe they won’t have to feel pain.
But Becky’s scream, his terror, surely he had to have felt it-
No. Becky did not feel pain. Spoke made it quick for him. He fought like how Minute would.
Becky did not feel pain. Becky is happy in the afterlife with his sister. Spoke is not a monster. He isn’t. He did it to save Mapicc, it was the only way. A kid like Becky didn’t belong on a fucked up server like this.
He has to tell himself this, over and over, until he’s about twenty thousand blocks out from Mafia City. All of a sudden, something slams into him, hard, sending him crashing into a tree.
Dizzy with shock and pain, he looks up to see..
Mapicc??
Mapicc looks down at his chestplate, seeing the specific chips and ridges he recognizes from their fight prior.
“You’re the diamond trim that let us go,” he observes, “I’ve been following you since I saw you heading this way. You spared us for a reason. And I just… I have to know. You’re Minute, aren’t you? Your fighting style is so much like his, and if you are, then you must know what happened to Spoke.”
Spoke pushes Mapicc off of him, nearly sending him falling to the ground. Spoke stands up, steadying himself in the leaves. He can’t do this. If Ash catches wind of this meeting, then what he just did to Becky will have meant nothing.
He pulls out a sign.
“i’m not minute”
Mapicc scoffs, “You’re not Minute, but you fight exactly like Minute, and you spared us. Right. Sure. Every other diamond player we’ve seen has fought to kill, yet you let us go. Why, Minute? Why don’t you want us to help you?”
Spoke starts writing again.
”you can’t help me. if you want to help so bad, then stay away from me.”
Mapicc’s solemn expression changes significantly. His eyes narrow, gaze turning from sorrow to anger.
“If you want me to stay away so bad,” Mapicc lunges forward, holding Spoke up by his chestplate, “Then tell me what happened to Spoke. None of us have heard from him in weeks, and I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on with him.”
Spoke checks his invis. One minute left. He has to get away, to wrench out of Mapicc’s grip, resplash, and fly back to Ash to report.
But despite that, there’s a traitorous part of himself that desperately wants to be around Mapicc again. That wants to be beside his best friend, even if he’d never forgive Spoke for his sins. He wants Mapicc to help him.
But Spoke is beyond help.
He kicks Mapicc in the chest, scouring his inventory for a potion. He has one left. Thirty seconds. But as he goes to grab it, he hears Mapicc yell.
"Leo!”
Spoke doesn’t have even a second to react before he’s held in a chokehold from behind by the man just mentioned. He was too weak to wound Mapicc enough to just leave, and this is the situation he’s ended up in. He can’t get out of this, not with Leo holding him and Mapicc drawing his sword, ready to get lethal if something happens again. They took advantage of his mercy. But they don’t understand. They can never even begin to understand.
Ten seconds, then five, then three, then one.
Then none. Spoke’s invisibility is gone, and he hears a choked gasp from both parties.
"Spoke?” Mapicc’s eyes begin to water, “Dude, why didn’t you tell us it was you? We’ve been looking for you for ages, man. Leo, let go of him, bro.”
“No,” Leo replies, “Something’s wrong. This isn’t the same Spoke we know. He attacked us, Mapicc.”
“Because he was forced to, probably,” Mapicc hisses back, “I bet he’s just been working for Ash to try to get Minute out before killing Ash. Right, Spoke? That’s what you’ve been up to, right?”
Spoke hangs his head. His weakness has brought him here. He can now only pray that no one else from the mafia is here to witness this.
“Let go of me, and I’ll tell you,” he resigns. He’s already planned his escape route. Because despite how bad he wants to stay, he knows, deep down, that Mapicc’s only chance of living is if he doesn’t.
“Leo,” Mapicc steps forward, sword ready, “Let go of him. This is my best friend, and we need to know what happened to him.”
Leo sighs, as if knowing the outcome already. But this is Mapicc’s plan, and he’s only here to follow it. He lets go, giving Spoke a chance to breathe easier.
Spoke pulls out his mace.
“MinuteTech is dead,” he admits, looking down at the mace, “I killed him in the fight to become a diamond player. I.. I didn’t know it was him until the very end, until it was too late to stop myself. All I could see was the success of killing Ash, of fulfilling the mission, and it blinded me. And I’ve done nothing since but take his place. I’m not Minute. I’m just a shadow of myself with nothing left but the ability to pretend.”
Mapicc takes a step back, hands shaking. Spoke knows the look on Mapicc’s face well. It’s the same look Spoke had when he killed Minute, the shock and sorrow at the realization of what happened.
“Spoke, I just,” Mapicc struggles to form the words, trembling, “I don’t like this, Spoke, I really don’t. My heart hurts for Minute. He was a dear friend and he protected us as long as he could. But… I’m sure you mourn him too. We can still fix this, Spoke. You can go back and kill Ash and we can be done with this whole mess.”
“Something’s not right,” Leo observes, drawing his sword from behind, “If Spoke killed Minute down there like he said, then why is Ash still alive now? Why didn’t you just go for Ash right after?”
“I couldn’t,” Spoke hisses in response, wrapping his arms around himself, “I couldn’t kill him. I was frozen, standing there, unable to process what happened, what I did, and by the time it all hit me, Ash had already stasised away. He hasn’t dropped his guard since. Nothing I have on me can one shot him fast enough, and he can stasis away the moment I use a strength potion or try to hit him, and then everything is just screwed. I’m trying, but I’m so unbelievably screwed right now, and I don’t know what to do except hope someone more capable can come along and finish the job for me.”
Leo casts his gaze to the side. It’s clear he feels bad for Spoke, but he doesn’t want to.
“Spoke, man,” Mapicc sighs, “What are we going to do? At this point, it’s best if we just try to get you out. You didn’t set a stasis, right? Ash doesn’t know that. We can just leave together, right now. If you wanna hope someone else can handle the mafia, then you should hope from far away, not from within their ranks. Come back to us, Spoke.”
He wants to. He really, really wants to. But he knows, deep down, that a world in which he leaves with Mapicc is a world where Mapicc will die. The mafia will find them sooner rather than later. Ash does not let traitors go unscathed.
To keep Mapicc safe, Spoke must go back. He’s already resigned himself to the fact that he will no longer stop the mafia from existing as long as they don’t go for Mapicc.
“I’m sorry,” Spoke sighs, “I… I can’t go with you. Mapicc, I’m never going to get the chance to say it again, so I’m going to say it now. I’m doing this because I care about you. You’re my best friend. That’s why I’m going back to Ash. I want you to live free from the fear that the mafia is going to come after you. I can only stop that from happening from the inside. Goodbye, Mapicc. Please don’t come after me. I can’t stand the idea of doing what I’ve done in exchange for your life and having Ash kill you anyway.”
Before Mapicc can say anything back, Spoke equips his elytra and wind charges up, knocking Leo and Mapicc off the tree. He immediately equips his rockets, shooting one off towards mafia city. He turns his head back to just barely see Mapicc trying to wrench out of Leo’s grip.
”SPOKE! SPOKE!!!!”
It’s the last thing he’ll ever hear from Mapicc.
Fuck. Fuck. He can’t stop the tears even if he wants to, the intense velocity of his flight heightening the amount that fall.
He hardly left, and he already misses Mapicc. He hates that he has to walk right back into Ash’s clutches. He hates how weak he’s been. He hates everything about himself.
The city starts coming into his view, and he angles his next rocket upwards so he can land on the diamond level. So he can report his… success to Ash.
When he walks into his room, Ash is already there waiting for him. He’s sitting on a chair, reading a book and humming to himself.
The sound of the door opening makes Ash look up.
“I assume the job is done,” He says in greeting. Spoke nods, pulling out his mace, still dirtied with Becky’s blood.
Ash grins.
“I knew you had it in you, Fish Bucket,” He praises, getting up and walking right up to Spoke, inspecting the mace for himself. By the pleased look on his face, Spoke can tell that he likes what he sees. Sick freak. He hates that he works for a man that’s pleased by the death of children.
“Is this enough?” He asks weakly, “Will you leave Mapicc alone now?”
Ash puts a finger to his chin in mock thought.
“Well, I can’t say I didn’t have ears listening in to your little exchange with him on your way back,” he says, amused, “But I have to say. I’m quite proud of the decision you made. He gave you the only opportunity you could’ve ever grasped, and still, still you decided to come back to me. You may hate me, but your loyalty is astounding. You’ve impressed me today. So yes, Mapicc will live. So long as he stays out of our way and you keep impressing me like you just have, Fish Bucket. I’ve left your rewards in the flower pots on the windowsill.”
And with that, he stasises away. Leaving Spoke with nothing but his own thoughts.
He looks towards the windowsill.
A rose and a cornflower.
He laughs. Laughs harder than he ever has before.
How pathetic he is. SpokeIsHere, the monster. The person too weak to be anything but. This is the life he earned for himself.
This is the only thought he has as he walks to the bathroom to fail at cleaning the blood off of his mace again.