Chapter Text
A figure hastily phases through the leaves, navigating across the dark, panting heavily. His boots tainted with mud, the cold breeze of rain caressed his forehead.
The night slowly overtaking his senses.
"The books... The messages... Twixxel..." He thought. "He must've been working on this for so long."
His eyes welled up with tears, the sting overtaking his nose.
"Damnit, Twixxel. I shouldn't have called you."
His tears mixed with the rain, rolling down his cheeks as he ran.
"I'm so sorry."
After finding Twixxel's hidden library filled with research, Mob hurried off with the books before Verity could trace his steps and find it himself. The night was filled with him mourning his best friend's tragic death, yet at Verity's constant presence encompassing him, he couldn't let his guard down. He knew that he could very well be next, and that Twixxel's death would be in vain if he died at Verity's hands. So at that night, he decided that there was only one way he could buy time until he finds a way to banish Verity: Conform to Verity's wants, and stay on his good side.
What he didn't take into account, however, was that Verity wanted more than just a friend.
.
.
.
"You're back! How did 'mining' go?"
Verity's smile widens, his tone laced with sarcasm and doubt, seemingly aware that Mob didn't bring a pickaxe.
Mob gulps down the unease that bubbled in his chest. His mind spiraled back to Twixxel's disappearance, looking at the entity that sat on the edge of his bed.
"Couldn't do it without you." He walks toward the yellow entity, each step heavy with guilt.
The yellow entity's smile falters for a moment before widening much more than before.
"really, now..." he mumbled.
Mob shifts his direction towards a crafting table.
"I lowkirkenuinely forgot my pickaxe, man. And then I got lost. Who knew I'd be pretty much helpless out there?" He forces a chuckle, refusing to look Verity in the eye.
He remembered how his eyes were puffy from crying on the way back. Besides, talking to Verity face-to-face would be bad for the nerves.
Verity's eyes lingered on Mob's figure.
"I see! Haha, I should've warned you then! Too bad you left in a hurry."
He gulped, before continuing to craft a new one.
"Right, right... Sorry about that. Just having one of those moods, you know." His hands trembled over the crafting table, trying to piece together the sticks.
Verity stayed quiet for a while.
"What kind of 'mood'?"
"I-uh, hah, just, you know. One of those days where you don't wanna, like, talk. Yeah." He stumbled with his words.
"Why not?"
"I mean, no particular reason, it just happens." He cleared his throat. "a-anyway, where'd I put the diamonds again?"
"How are you feeling, Mob?"
...
Mob sighed, putting down the sticks and closing the chest. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?"
"..No, I don't think I will, Mob."
He turned around, looking Verity in the eye. He gulps, seeing Verity's usual smile.
"I said I wasn't feeling it. Is that so hard to understand? I can't feel happy every second of the day, Verity."
He watches Verity's smile twitch, blankly staring at the door. His silence began to carry a heavy weight.
Uneasy, Mob reached out, "Verity-"
"This is about Twixxel, isn't it?"
Mob paused. His lip twitched, not knowing how to respond. Verity's voice turned serious, his expression flat.
"I see." He interrupted Mob's obvious display of distraught.
"You're sad because Twixxel's gone, aren't you? Because he was your friend, is that it? Or maybe he was more? Is it because you love him?"
Verity's tone turned louder.
"I'm right aren't I? You care for him? More than me? That's why it's so easy to leave me and mope for HIM?"
His face turned to look at Mob, teeth showing as he yelled.
"V-verity, I-"
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU, MOB. TWIXXEL DOESN'T HOLD EVEN A FRACTION OF HOW MUCH I CARE! HOW MUCH I LOOK AFTER YOU."
"WHAT AM I DOING WRONG, MOB--"
"VERITY!" Mob yelled. "That's- this is enough. This isn't about you nor is it about him, Verity."
He took a breath in. "P-please, just, stop."
"... I see."
Mob exhaled, holding both palms to his face in frustration.
"Is it because I look like this, Mob?"
Mob turned back to look at him, confused. "What?--"
His eyes widened in terror.
Crack.
Mob could hear Verity's mouth stretch open as new limbs tore it open.
Verity's new form emerged, turning into something slightly more human-like. Devoid of the tall, skinny creature he was a few nights ago, yet less compact than the yellow spherical identity he took.
Just like Mob, he grew limbs, with legs that touch the floor, and a smile more eerily humane than he'd like.
"I can be everything that you need, Mob." His smile grew. "You won't need anyone other than me."
.
.
.