Archive of Our Own ^beta

“The simplest answer I can give you is: no, it is not our responsibility.” 

Simon’s soft sigh seemed to permeate the cozy office with a suffocating kindness, though those types of paradoxes just seemed to follow him around. Whenever Seraphine took it upon herself to actually attempt to quantify the enigma that was The Admin of her world, whatever adjectives she chose to use always fell short. 

“I am not claiming responsibility,” he said in rebuttal, tapping incessantly but still in a rhythmic manner on the surface of the desk they were currently seated on opposite sides of. “Neither the beginning nor the end of this belongs to us.” 

“Then why interfere?” Seraphine shrugged. “Doing nothing has no ill effects, and agreeing to his— frankly asinine— idea will only cause trouble. You have presented the facts of the matter, and now our choice is clear to me.” 

“Can you really see nothing but danger along the second path?” 

Seraphine laughed contemptuously. “What else is there?” 

“Hope?” Simon met her eyes, the smallest of smirks tugging at the edges of his mouth. “A chance to change someone’s fate?” 

It was her turn to sigh, but hers was much harsher than his had been. “Then, even if we could, I repeat: it is not our responsibility to offer them that sanctuary.”

Hypixel hummed, his eyes slightly unfocused. 

“You scheduled this meeting specifically to ask my opinion.” Seraphine leaned back in her plush armchair, sensing that there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Well, I have given it to you. What will you decide?” 

Stopping his tapping, Simon took the moment to think as if preemptively going over what he was about to say. “Seraphine,” the words were slow, “you have one of the strongest, if not the strongest, wills I have ever found within another person, which is why I always seek out your counsel when it comes to things like this. However… at this time, I must ask that you trust my choice.” 

“Oh.” She frowned, letting the silence stretch out for an uncomfortably long time before continuing, “You were going to go through with it regardless of what I said.” 

“I will admit that I had already made up my mind, but that doesn’t mean that I have not considered your fears—”

“My fears?” Seraphine’s eyes widened as her voice rose in indignation. “My fears? This is not fear, Simon. You’d rather take an unnecessary risk because of your childish and worryingly misinformed hope over doing the logical—”

He interrupted sternly, “I know that your heart demands action, but rushing ahead in either direction is equally dangerous.”

“I’m not rushing ahead! I’m saying we shouldn’t do anything; I’m saying we should stop and think before taking any steps forward.” 

“I have thought it through,” Hypixel responded, “and I do believe that something good may come of this.” 

“Simon—”

He silenced her with a look. “I am not asking you to agree with me. I am also not asking you to be happy about this, but I think we should let them try.”

“In my home.” Seraphine’s gray eyes burned. “If anything goes wrong, it’ll land on me.”

“I promise,” Simon spread out his hands calmly, “just as always, I’ll be there. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to, Seraphine. You know I would never ask you to. Just leave them be, and if anything happens, we can go from there.” 

“When,” Seraphine mumbled the correction. 

“If something happens, you can come straight to me, look me in the eyes, and say I told you so.”

“I’ll be taking you up on that.” 

Simon grinned. “You’d never pass up on the opportunity to rub my mistakes in my face, would you?” 

Despite the anger simmering within, she smiled back. “You know me so well.” 

“Look, Seraphine, all I’m asking you to do is be patient. You have a strong sense of justice that serves you well, but it can also blind you. Whatever will happen will run its course and everything will become clear in due time, but I will not make a decision like this over something that I have no true authority over.” 

The first time her Magic didn’t obey a command, Seraphine had brushed it off as a stand-alone occurrence. It had always been finicky, never allowing her to do anything not completely and wholly good with it, so there had been plenty of times before when it had resisted for an arbitrary reason she could work around. 

But she was just organizing that time, and a paper tore. Thoughtlessly, she sent a light command to fix it. 

Mend, please.

No.

She stopped, standing up tall. No?

Apologies.

The paper mended itself with a spark of navy-colored light and soared elegantly into the filing cabinet. Seraphine narrowed her eyes at where the paper had been and looked back and forth between there and the cabinet, deciding to think more on it later. 

The thing was that ‘later’ didn’t come for a dangerously long time. 

Be patient was what Simon had suggested. 

Seraphine would have liked to say that she was patient, but it would be more reasonable to say that she simply had other things on her mind. The most concerning issue of which was that state-sponsored supervillain Dante that they had allowed to live instead of being deleted immediately like every other rogue magical being that popped out of the Ley Lines. ‘Drama’ was Simon’s motive apparently, and Seraphine’s incensed argument against letting him run in the mayoral elections was waved off with nothing other than a “we’ll keep it in mind.” 

For the first time since her appointment as election overseer, she had actually considered miscounting the votes, even if deep down she knew she would never go through with it— and her Magic certainly wouldn’t let her. So, at the end of the cycle, lo and behold, Dante was elected as mayor despite the warnings of some of the more responsible Admins. 

After, it was quickly made apparent that her presence was no longer wanted in Town Hall, and though Dante’s threats meant little in the grand scheme of things, she had obliged and moved her own base of operations elsewhere. There were already whispers among the other NPCs and some Admins that Dante was becoming a nuisance on an organizational level, which meant that there was likely going to be some new rebellion against him if Seraphine was reading the room correctly. A disparaged populus rising up against a cruel tyrant would certainly satisfy Simon’s desire for ‘drama.’ 

However, she never did stop thinking about Technoblade’s proposed plan. Seraphine would check in on the magical log of his island from time to time, but no Players’ soul signatures ever appeared. After enough of nothing, she began to hope that he hadn’t gone through with it and figured something else out. 

Of course, fate is never actually that nice to her, and she eventually learned of the… adjustment to the original plan through an unusual means. 

Issue with an incomplete respawn, her own Magic informed her out of the blue one evening, tugging suddenly at her Core for attention. 

That doesn’t just happen, she sent back easily. Unhelpful error message.

Unavoidable. Irreparable with current condition.

Still not relevant to me. She sighed, sifting through the papers on her desk and lightly implying that the Magic stop bothering her. Respawn watch falls on someone else’s shoulders. 

Mandatory report.

That was what finally made her freeze and actually listen. So it’s not an issue with respawn.

Successful but incomplete.

Permanent scars?

Damage, yes.

Not uncommon. She tilted her head. Other reasons why this deserves my attention?

Damage is extensive enough to warrant an official inquiry, and would have been debilitating if not healed here. However, it seems to be rooted from another server, moving it out of bounds for any repercussive action. The general next steps from here are to determine cause and offer support if needed.

Seraphine almost laughed at the lecture. Her Magic seemed to have picked up some of her own anxiously overbearing personality, and it was likely that at the end of this thread she was going to find another butt-hurt Player who had simply lost a few fights to their friends while on a private world and retained some scarring from it. It was somewhat rare, but Seraphine knew that Players could carry memories with them through respawn if they were impactful enough. 

Determining what ‘impactful’ meant per person was the hard thing, she supposed. For some Players, nothing would ever stick; for others, permanent scars were shown off like trophies. For the isolated few, and the only ones she was actually concerned with, permanent scars could be evidence of mistreatment at the highest level: breaks from the cross-server code of ethics. 

There had been plenty of situations in the past where her Magic had expressed its concern just like this only to reveal a much more mundane situation, so she honestly didn’t go following the string of Magic expecting much. 

The first, damaged soul died reading intentions of anger and fear, but also thoughtlessness and desperation, her Magic elaborated as she began to search for the source of the problem. The second soul held only feelings of surprise, though those shifted towards amusement immediately following respawn.

Evidence pointed towards two friends whose fun got a little out of hand. 

As if it had read her mind, the Magic interjected with a quick, Nuanced, that it refused to expand upon.

At the very end of the thread of Code, she found two magical signatures waiting for her, one of which was frustratingly familiar. She let out an audible sigh, feeling a headache already coming on… and just for a second she could swear that she heard her own Magic start laughing. 

Technoblade’s familiar soul was an icy blue, full of startlingly grand contradictions. It was cold, but it burned with the heat of battle. It was full of a quiet humming like the lonely winds across a tundra, but it also chorused with the elegant ringing of carillons, tolling for every occasion, good or bad. It was awe inspiring on the smallest scale, not unlike the feeling of holding an object sacred only to you. Seraphine knew the tales of the Penates and Lares as well as of Nike, and she saw them all in his soul.

It was a balance scale, a promise— a handshake, a vow, a contract written and sealed by blood, sweat, and tears— that every action will have a reaction, though that reaction may not always be equal. But, if it was to go so far as to bring a sword to a fist fight and swiftly silence the inciting cause forever? The broken scales of the blind Lady Justice would say that vengeance had been served well. 

And yet his soul was still packed and even overflowing with a hard-won sense of companionship. The hope stirring within him was never unbased nor frighteningly optimistic, but Seraphine saw how Xenia was painted through the art of his life with a firm shading that ‘this may not be the way the world works, but I will continue to fight for how it should.’

His soul resonated with the spectacle and power of fireworks just as much as it whispered of settling down and aiming toward the strange and ever-distant target that is peace. It felt like sitting down after a long day and letting yourself cozy up in a blanket to read an epic tale while sipping on a cup of hot chocolate. It was freezing but warm and— soft, clearly an embodiment of the hearth and of home.  

After a small moment of contemplation, Seraphine let the arctic blue soul slip through the fingers of her own Magic and watched as it settled next to the green one on the same island. 

Maybe I should leave them be.

Seraphine paused just before closing the inquiry, noticing something else odd. Where was the magical link marking their Nether Portal? 

“They’re stranded on the island, Simon.”

“Oh, that’s really funny actually.”

“...We’re not going to help them?”

“Are you kidding? He got himself into this mess, he gets the honor of getting out of it.” 

She decided to enact a “ignore them and it’ll be like they’re not even here” plan. Though, deep down she still knew that it wasn’t going to work out in the long term. Technoblade was drawn to spectacle like a moth to a flame, and if any of the jokes and rumors about the man’s growing support of anarchy turned out to be true, she would not be surprised to see him show up at the revolution’s front door. 

He did, that is, show up at the revolution’s base of operations one day. However, the shock that Seraphine felt as she saw him walking down the steps was not at his own arrival but that of the person next to him. Technoblade’s companion wasn’t wearing the mask that Seraphine had been told he was famous for, but it wasn’t exactly like she needed to use physical appearance to recognize anyone. 

Damaged soul.

I know, thank you. Seraphine mentally flicked her Magic away and sighed audibly in order to try to release some of the tension from her shoulders. 

Ignore them and it’ll be like they’re not even—

“Hey, Seraphine!” 

She forced a pleasant smile before turning around and seeing Jiyn waving at her. Well, she’d have to get this over with at some point. 

After walking over to the group of four, she was introduced by Deo. “Seraphine, this is Technoblade and Dream.”

Seraphine let herself study the two “newcomers” as she placed her hands confidently on her hips. In front of her was one returning veteran and another who looked like he barely knew where he was let alone whether he actually wanted to be here. Nevertheless, she didn’t find much else in Dream’s expression apart from an overwhelmed, unsure, and yet also eager anticipation. 

Finally, she held out a hand, and both of them shook it as she explained, “Nice to meet you. I’m former Mayor Seraphine, you may have once seen me in the Town Hall. I usually am the one making sure all the ballots are cast legally in the Mayoral elections, but since Dante kicked me out of the cabinet and rigged all the elections so that we couldn’t vote him out of office if we tried, I’ve found myself here in the Dark Auction House trying to pull together a resistance.”

“I think we may have met a long time ago,” Techno said. 

They had met a few different times— a good amount considering that she had actively tried to avoid him in the past. Heavens knows she didn’t want to be involved in any part of that “Potato War” thing. 

Seraphine hummed, her eyes narrowing momentarily. “I know you well, Technoblade.” She turned to Dream. “But I do not know anything about you.”

So, she lied about that. Sue her, but it wasn’t like she was going to use her vague knowledge of his… past as an icebreaker. 

TimeDeo immediately jumped to his defense, wrapping an arm around Dream’s shoulders (an action which elicited a flinch she couldn’t help but notice), “This is Dream, he’s famous for being a great PVPer, so he’d be an excellent asset to the cause.”

“We shall see,” Seraphine said, trying to keep her own doubt from infecting her words. 

Jiyn changed the subject, “Care to catch them up on what’s been going on here?”

Seraphine just nodded. “Dante needs to be overthrown, plain and simple. It’ll take time, but we are organizing a coup.”

“Great,” Techno said. “Count me in.”

She couldn’t stop the slight smile that graced her lips as she continued, “However, we have not decided on a leader but have come to the consensus that whomever it is should be decided on democratically.”

Technoblade groaned. “Allowing the players to have a choice is what got us into this mess. You’re making the same mistake! I bet their choice sucks!”

Finally, something that they could agree upon. 

Seraphine felt her own smile widen. “Oh, that actually makes sense because so far it’s you!”

There was a beat. 

“It’s WHO-”

All of them burst into laughter, Dream letting out a sharp wheeze and doubling over on his stomach. 

“Technoblade!” Dream teased, “The anarchist is getting elected to a governmental position against his will!” He laughed harder. 

Ok, maybe it was a little bit funny. 

Techno’s face was slightly red with a blush. “Wait, wait, wait. There’s gotta be somethin’ wrong here. They’re voting for me?”

Seraphine inclined her head with a smug grin. “I guess they just like you.”

“No,” Technoblade argued, raising a finger, “no. I haven’t been here in months! They’re literally only voting for me because I’m famous, which— by the way— is not a good reason to elect someone into an important position like that.” Seraphine saw him look to Deo, Dream, or Jiyn for support but the others were still laughing too hard to notice. He turned back to her as if she was going to help him. “I’m an anarchist! I don’t even like the government!”

Dream continued to laugh, but Seraphine knew he wasn’t free from it either. 

She turned to look at him next and said sweetly, “I wouldn’t be laughing at him that much, Dream. You’ve got your own fair share of votes.”

There was another shocked pause before Deo and Jiyn started laughing again and Techno was able to join in this time while Dream was the one stumbling for words. 

“What? Voting for— for— me?” Dream blinked at Seraphine, and she could tell that he was genuinely confused. “Why?”

“Like Technoblade,” she answered matter-of-factly, “you’re famous.”

“But I don’t even—” he glanced at Techno who gave an indifferent shrug. “I didn’t even have a Skyblock island two weeks ago.”

It took all her willpower not to just agree with him point blank and refuse that either of them be allowed to hold actual positions post-revolution. “All I said was that the players could vote for anyone whom they deemed worthy, which…” she paused before finishing reluctantly, “evidently means you two.”

Which, translated past politeness, actually meant: Which I have to abide by, no matter how much I hate it.

Deo slapped Techno on the back. “Don’t worry, bud. I got some votes too.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been roped into this.” Techno sighed and buried his face into his hands.

“And,” Seraphine grinned, knowing that what she was about to say was just going to bother him more, “if we succeed, the revolution leader will be named the next Mayor.”

Technoblade groaned again. “Why?” He whined, “Why is the government always bad?”

“Will it be bad with you in charge?” Dream prodded, “Maybe you can finally run a government the way you think they should be run?”

Techno grunted, rolling his eyes. 

Seraphine stared at the strange little group of four. “So? Are you in or out?”

Dream looked uncertainly at Technoblade who sighed out, “Look, at this point… anything is better than Dante.” 

“True!” Deo interjected, “He canceled Christmas!”

Jiyn nodded. “And Halloween.”

“This is worse than I thought,” Dream said with a laugh. “I know close to nothing about this, but… sure!” Seraphine saw that both she and Techno glanced at him with wide eyes. “I’m in too!”

“Glad to have you on board.” Her words came out a bit stunned at first, and she hoped that it hadn’t been too noticeable. With a wave, she added, “Make sure to cast your votes up front, and I’ll be seeing you around. We’ll make sure to let you know when the day of the revolution is nigh.”

They continued to chat behind her, and Seraphine let her smile drop with a slow exhale. She was definitely going to be using some of her vacation time after this. 

It was… the fourth? No, the fifth time that her Magic had refused to do some innocuous thing. 

All she had wanted to do was count some more of the Player votes for the revolution’s leader, how could that possibly be bad? 

No.

For the first time, she noticed she felt something other than surprise or confusion at the Magic’s dissent. NPCs were different from Players— even different from Admins besides the whole ‘not-having-a-soul’ thing. While Players only had the most rudimentary connection to a server’s Magic and Admins had the strongest of those bonds, NPCs went beyond anything that any of them could experience. Seraphine knew that even Simon would never be able to fully understand what she meant when she tried to explain that the server’s Magic was her just as much as she was the Magic. She was born of the air and the dirt; as she breathed, the world itself took a breath with her. Ultimately, they were one and the same. 

But, the Magic… it made her feel sick now. 

Cautiously, Seraphine ran the command again. As far as she could tell, her intention was pure, and every time her Magic had refused before now, It had always provided a reason for doing so, whether that was calling out her own selfishness or explaining her short-sightedness.

Command failed.

This… shouldn’t be happening. If she was losing her power—

Count.

She forced the command out much firmer this time, and the Magic stuttered for a second before answering. 

139 for Thirty Virus, 22 for Refraction, 74 for…

As it continued to tally the votes, Seraphine let out a sigh. Nothing was wrong; it would be okay. 

It had to be. 

“Remember how you said that I probably wouldn’t even have to see them if I didn’t want to?” 

Despite the fact that she couldn’t see his face, Seraphine could tell that Simon was smiling as he replied sardonically, “You know, people usually knock.” 

Seraphine sheepishly took a step back, rapping her knuckles twice against the open wooden doors to Hypixel’s office. Simon turned to face her after a second more of fiddling with the copper wire he was winding about the trunk of a young bonsai tree sitting on the windowsill beside its many companions. She saw that he was still grinning lightly. 

“But yes, I remember.” 

“And you didn’t think that maybe they’d be interested in… helping out with the revolution you put me in charge of?” 

“It may have crossed my mind,” he replied simply, smoothing out a few wrinkles from the leather apron covering his nice white button down. “And I didn’t put you in charge of the revolution, you chose—”

“It’s my duty,” Seraphine interrupted hotly. “I will always be there to protect my home. It is not a matter of choice.” 

“You said they’re helping though, yeah?” Simon spread his hands out in an optimistic gesture. “I don’t see the issue if you get what you want at the end of it.” 

“I want Dante out of power, which could have been entirely avoided in the first place if we had gotten rid of him when we had the chance—”

“He hasn’t done anything too drastic—”

“Not yet he hasn’t, but—”

“Nothing more than a flea, underfoot—”

“Simon!” 

The Admin stopped, looking at her with new eyes. 

“Seraphine?” He began gently, “Is everything alright?” 

“No, everything’s not alright.” 

“If this is about—”

“It’s not about anything,” Seraphine sighed out, burying her head in her hands for a second. “Look, Simon, I trust you, and if you’re telling me that there’s nothing to worry about then fine. Okay. I believe you. I just…” 

There was a pause. 

Hypixel’s gaze was warm and concerned, a small pinch at the edge of his eyes. “You just…?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed again. “Just forget it.”

“Seraphine—”

“Thank you for your time.” 

“Seraphine.” He stopped her before she could leave, not physically, but Seraphine still heard the edge in his tone. “I am here to listen. Always. I enjoy your contributions because you so often disagree with what I think.” He paused, waiting, and then continued, “Is there anything you feel like you need to tell me?” 

Nothing other than the fact that my Magic’s fading away, and I think I might be dying—

“There is nothing I can think of at the moment.” 

He waited a beat, seeing if she would continue. When she didn’t, Simon eventually waved an accepting hand anyway, even though she knew that he didn’t actually believe her. “I understand.”

Seraphine nodded into a small bow. 

“Keep in touch about the revolution from your end. We’re thinking about making some unique armor sets in the coming week, so I’ll let you know how that goes. Again, Seraphine,” his voice was steady and kind, “I am always here to listen.” 

She just turned away, eyes on the floor. “I’ll see you around, Simon.” 

“See you.” 

Seraphine felt his eyes on her back all the way down the hallway. 

Command failed.

Seraphine took a deep breath. 

It was only getting worse. 

“Well,” Seraphine recognized the gossiping voice as belonging to Vanessa, “I can’t believe that they managed to elect Dante ahead of Barry, I mean, he’s been trying for so long now and nobody will vote for him—”

“Nobody votes for him because he has all the personality of a paranoid wet rag.”

Seymour snorted into the cup of tea he was drinking from at Seraphine's statement, quickly wiping away the liquid that landed on his black suit and baby-blue undershirt. 

Jacob watched her lazily as she descended the staircase into the now mostly empty Dark Auction House, raising one brown eyebrow. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” 

Seraphine just sighed in response, flopping down into an empty chair at the table and setting her head down to rest on her arms. 

“Busy week?” Elizabeth said softly, leaning over to try and match her dark maroon eyes to Seraphine’s gray ones. 

“Try a month.” 

Seraphine caught Elizabeth’s lips quirk upward into a smile. 

“How much longer is this going to go on for?” Sirius asked, his posh top hat on the table in front of him, before quickly adjusting to: “Not that I don’t enjoy having you all here, but frankly, it’s hurting business.” 

“Really?” Vanessa tilted her head, her long white hair moving with the motion. “I would have thought that your… unsavory dealings would have thrived under Dante’s rule.” 

“The Dark Auction House is a good place to hold our revolutionary activities, however, it makes having actual auctions a bit more difficult.”

“We’ll get out of your hair soon, Sirius,” Seraphine promised, raising her head. “Thank you so much for the hospitality you’ve shown thus far. I know we haven’t had the best relationship—”

He raised a hand, light catching on his golden monocle as he smiled at her. “I’ll have your back anytime you need it, Seraphine. We might not always see eye to eye, but you could’ve tried to shut me down a long time ago. Plus, do you really think Dante would let me work under the radar?” Sirius scoffed. “Absolutely not. He’d have my head on a spike.” 

“The voting should be wrapping up soon too, I think,” Elizabeth added. “It’s pretty clear who the winners’ll be—”

“Ugh.” Seraphine let her head fall back down into her hands, prompting a light laugh from Winona, Marco, and Taylor. 

“I don’t think Technoblade’s that bad of a option,” Taylor said, their suit open and red tie undone. “He was nice when the two of ‘em came in for new clothes a while ago.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “You didn’t follow the saga that was The Potato War.” 

“What? Man gets passionate about stuff, I say that’s exactly what we need.” 

A new voice spoke up. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

Seraphine once again sat up straight, her eyes meeting the purple ones of Winona. 

“Nothing’s bothering me,” she defended, quickly realizing that her words only made the whole table think there was something bothering her. 

“Seraphine…”

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated,” she interrupted Elizabeth. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” 

Seraphine waited out a pause during which all eight of the others at the table seemed to study her. After a moment, Marco changed the conversation to possible beautifying projects they could suggest after Dante was defeated, and Seraphine let herself relax. The others’ words faded into muffled murmurs. 

However, it wasn’t really relaxation. She still felt high-strung on something, it was just that she couldn’t seem to put her worries into words. Something was very wrong and she was beginning to think that she might not be able to fix it. 

Seraphine prided herself on being self-aware. However, knowing that she struggled to ask for help when she needed it did not allow her to change that behavior any easier, especially not when part of her was starting to wonder if the reason her powers were fading was because she was slowly being deemed unfit to wield them. Which, if true, would make the simple act of asking for help itself the nail in the coffin. This was some sort of test, and she wasn’t planning on failing it. 

With the date of the revolution drawing ever nearer and her own Magic increasingly becoming a problem, Seraphine had a lot on her mind and often took walks through the town to get her thoughts in order. It just so happened that on one introspective morning, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and ran into someone else. 

“Oh!”

Something crashed against the stones below them both as Seraphine was shocked out of her stupor, her Magic awakening abruptly to place an unfortunate name to the other person before she had even processed their face. Of course it had to be Dream of all people.

She winced at the sound of the crash too. Oh, that was definitely terracotta.  

“I am so sorry—”

“No, please,” she cut him off, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“Still—”

Seraphine sighed, “Dream, it was my fault.” She finally met his green eyes and took in his full appearance, noting that he truly was somewhat nervous around her, skittish like one of the stray cats that would sometimes wander the hub. Between them, spattered like blood across the stones was dirt from a shattered flowerpot, and buried in the rubble was a rather fetching blue orchid that Seraphine immediately felt guilty over. “Was that yours?” 

“Yeah, but it’s fine!” His laughs were awkward and clipped short as he held out his hands, making her think that it was likely not fine. “I’m sure I can get another.” 

Seraphine smiled gently, soothing, “You won’t need to. Let me fix it, it’s the least I can do.” 

“Uh…” 

She just kneeled down, pulling a few of the shards closer together and holding one in her palm. 

Mend.

No.

Frowning, Seraphine pushed harder. 

Mend.

No.

Her fist clenched around the piece of terracotta, loose enough to prevent it from cutting into her skin but still with intention. 

This is only to fix and apologize for something I’ve done. There is no reason for this to be considered a selfish, stupid, or useless act. I have nothing but good intentions, so let me help. 

She grit her teeth and tried one last time, putting her entire will behind the command. 

Ḿe̵̵͞n̨͢d̶.

The Magic’s resolve crumbled, dark blue light lifting the broken parts of the pot into the air and then filling its cracks like glue as it pulled them all together back into form. After, the dirt and flower followed, alight with the same blue glitter. Seraphine exhaled, watching the damage be reversed and the pot settle gently into her hands. 

She stood after a second, offering the blue flower back to Dream. 

“Again,” she said as he accepted it while wearing an almost hidden expression of surprise that she couldn’t help but worry about, “I am sorry for breaking it, and I’m sorry it took a moment, my… Magic was just giving me a bit of grief.”

Almost instinctively, Dream opened his mouth to say something back, but then seemed to think better of it, instead only going with a small, “Thank you.” 

Seraphine’s brows furrowed. “You were going to say something else.”

Tensing, his worried eyes shot to hers and she mentally kicked herself for being so blunt. 

“Sorry, I’m just… good at reading people.” She paused, adding, “Really good at it actually, it’s kind of my job.” She laughed, attempting to diffuse some of the tension. “You seemed to have something on your mind? You are welcome to share it.” 

He still hesitated before speaking, his grip on the flowerpot tightening ever so slightly. “It’s Magic. I mean, in general, commands either work or they don’t, there’s not—” Dream pulled a face. “Sorry, sorry.” 

Remembering the two types of unique scars on his soul, Seraphine had a sudden guess as to what this had reminded him of. 

“Were you trying to say that there’s not usually a struggle?” 

There was a small seed of panic now in his expression that caused her own to soften as she realized she had been spot on. Seraphine shrugged, trying to act unconcerned. “If so, you’re right. Commands are normally immediate, whether or not they work is only dependent on the innate skills and given status of the user.” 

Dream just stared at her, and Seraphine suddenly felt some kinship between them as a few pieces of the puzzle slid themselves into place like magnets snapping together. Simon had told her some things, and Dream’s own soul had betrayed even more of the story, but only seeing and really talking with him in person was tying it all together. Now, she felt like she might be beginning to understand, and the coldness she had felt toward him melted slightly in the guilty face of knowing the truth.  

“Magic, in rare and nearly unique cases,” Seraphine decided to explain softly while offering forth some of her own vulnerability, “can wax and wane with the seasons, fading in and out of someone’s control.” 

She watched as he pressed his lips together, and the words that eventually came out of his mouth were quiet. “I mean— I’m no expert, but I know there are reasons why someone’s Magic might even disappear.”

“Because you were an Admin for a server once, weren’t you?”

His eyes widened for a second before they returned to normal as his shoulders went rigid instead. “Yeah, and you got the tense right. Was.” 

She grimaced. 

“Sorry,” Seraphine began genuinely, “that was rude of me. There’s just… a few marks— on your soul that I recognized to be from a magical disconnect, but there are others that…” her fists clenched without thinking. She had to know. She had a responsibility. “Dream, can I ask you a personal question?” 

Once again, he stared at her warily, but then, slowly, “Sure, I guess.”

“Are you okay?” 

She saw his whole expression change in surprise. “Yeah? I’m alright, though that’s definitely not what I was expecting you to ask.” 

“I meant it more generally.” Seraphine took a drawn-out breath. “You… have permanent scars.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So does Techno. So do a lot of people.”

“Not ones consistent with torture.” 

Dream went absolutely still. 

“You don’t have to respond to that,” she added hastily, raising her hands to calm him. “I’m sorry for springing it on you, but please know that I will not assume anything.” As the words came out of her mouth, she realized that ‘assuming’ was exactly what she had been doing, and another wave of regret moved through her. “Sorry,” she repeated with a sigh and then muttered, “I’m not great at this part. I’m usually on the technical side of these things rather than the supportive, but my Magic pinged me when you had your first respawn here, when you threw Technoblade and yourself off the—”

“That was an accident!” He interrupted, eyes wide in fear. “I was angry and I—”

“Dream, it’s alright,” Seraphine comforted. “I didn’t bring it up as a strike against you, and, if I can tell you a little secret, my Magic thought it was rather entertaining.” She winked at him before letting her expression become serious again. “But damage like that isn’t something to just brush off, and… I’m sorry it happened.”

Dream wouldn’t look at her, but still flinched. “It’s… fine. It was mostly my fault anyways—”

“Woah, Dream,” Seraphine interrupted sharply, leaving no room for debate, “I don’t know what happened, and I will not ask to know either. Regardless, whatever happened to scar your soul like that was not your fault.”

Raising his dull green eyes to meet hers, Dream asked in a hesitant challenge, “Even if I was a bad person?”

“Even if you were,” she answered steadily, “even if you are.” 

There started a pause between them then, though neither seemed to quite be able to leave after that. A wind whispered through the trees of the forest as faint bird calls echoed around the edge of town, empty except for them two. 

“Dream,” Seraphine finally began softly, “like I said before, I will not pressure you into saying anything. It is one of my many jobs to notice things like this but it is not to decide what you share now nor ever. All I can do is offer support.” She tilted her head at him, smiling kindly. “If anything did happen, there are people willing to listen and help should you want it, myself being one of them, and any conversation with me would be kept private and confidential.”

It was strange that out of everything she saw, the emotion that came through the most in Dream’s face was disbelief. 

“...I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Despite the pain of the realization his statement caused, it also pulled an involuntary laugh from her. “I don’t like many people, Dream,” she said with self-deprecating humor, “but I apologize that I came off so strongly that way. Distrust comes too easily to me, but it’s not my place to assume and project things upon someone I don’t really know.” She took a deep breath. “And, no matter how I personally feel about someone, I will always do the right thing.” 

There was another pause that Dream ended this time with the small whisper of, “Thank you, really, but I’m alright. I’m… okay. Better?” He frowned. “Not better, but things are getting better? I think, or I hope they are— at least?”

She nodded. “I understand.” 

“I…” he held the flowerpot against his hip with one hand, placing the other on the back of his neck. “I’ve been talking to Techno, actually.” 

Her smile slowly reappeared. “I’m glad.” 

“But thank you, um, Seraphine, for your offer.” 

“It’ll always be there, and you can take me up on it when or if you ever want it. Rest assured, I will not say anything without your permission. This can stay between us forever if that’s what you want.” She waved. “Sorry again for running into you and for the interrogation, I’ll let you get home.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Thanks for fixing this too.” Dream held up the flower. 

“Of course.”

“And I hope you figure out your Magic stuff,” he said in goodbye, and Seraphine knew he was speaking from an experience he hoped she wouldn’t have. 

“I hope so too.” 

With a final, awkward nod from the man, he was gone, darting off back on his way to what Seraphine assumed was the portal back to his own island. She sighed, but this time it was for an entirely new and contrasting reason from every time that had come before. 

Maybe I should take some of my own advice. 

Dream’s soul sung of nature— all sides of it, the good, the bad, and everything in between. The weaving green echoed of truth itself, where only the strong survive and yet even in the darkest of times there can still be acts of simple kindness born of a love that some claim either should not or does not exist at all. It felt like basking in the warm afternoon rays of a sunny day, and it felt like the gales of torrential storms that rip and tear without mercy. His soul was made up of beautiful flowers and soft moss just as much as it stung with the burn of poison ivy. Every part of him, from the smallest pill bug to the eldest ginkgoes, was connected into one giant web of push and pull, give and take. 

It was relentless and unforgiving.

And it was damaged. 

Seraphine stared into it, and she saw the razed flower fields and burnt, ashen trees that the forest of his soul tried to bury under layers of stranglingly tight kudzu vines as if to convince the world (and himself) that he’s fine. 

Despite the best efforts of his soul’s disguise, the desolation was clear to see. There was conflict here, and she could not tell what sides there were, let alone which one was winning. 

She felt something like pity as she heard Dream’s own Magic cry out:

I do want to feel better! I do want to fix things! 

I just don’t know how to. 

I do want to be happy! 

But I don’t even know if I can be. 

Everything I’ve done has only hurt me and everyone I’ve ever tried to love, so maybe I shouldn’t try at all. I’ve only made everything worse. 

Please, I keep doing it wrong, so tell me how to do it right! I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. Please, I need to be able to fix this. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t, so I’m going to fix this. 

I have to. 

I just want to be happy. I still want to be happy even if I know I don’t deserve it…

“Simon?” She said his name as she knocked on the door this time. The Admin’s head shot up from the maps he was studying on the floor in front of his office’s fireplace. 

“Oh, Seraphine, it’s nice to see you, please come in.” 

She entered the large office, staring at the empty desk on her left for a second before joining Simon on a couch to the right by the fire, seeing that he wasn’t getting up. After all this time, she thought she would’ve learned by now that Hypixel rarely felt the need to be professional with her. 

“We’ve been figuring out those armor sets like I mentioned last time,” he muttered absentmindedly, clearly paying more attention to the papers in front of him. “Did you know Dante came from a glitched Slime plinth? Who would have seen that coming? And, you know, I’ve been talking with a few biologists about their physiology because I could’ve sworn that I saw something weird when I was looking at his Code—” Seraphine grinned nostalgically at Simon’s rambles. “Anyway, the point is that the armor sets are gonna be focused around fire, but we’ve also been trying out a new fusion enchantment with a reversed sort of mending paired with channeling and smite.”

“Aren’t those last two weapon enchantments?” She entertained him. 

“They are. Usually.” Simon sent her a proud smile of his own before returning to studying the maps. “We needed something to direct the part of the adjusted enchantment that registers non-physical support. Turns out that the base wording for smite and channeling can be repurposed to refer to anything dealing with more spiritual elements of combat— for example, converting the votes one might receive in an election into raw magical power.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you getting at what I think you are?” 

“Yep!” Simon said cheerily. “The armor will scale extra for those Players who received votes in the election. Of course, we also added translated flame and protection enchantments. It’ll be a fair fight now.” 

“Wow.” Listen, Seraphine knew when she was out of her depth. Dusk and Rosetta knew about this stuff, not her. 

He laughed suddenly, sitting up and really looking at her for the first time since she had arrived. “Sorry, was there something that you needed?” 

It was almost sad to see the conversation become serious, but as much as Seraphine would genuinely enjoy hearing Simon go on and on about the developer side of world management, she had come here with a purpose. 

Seraphine took a long and deep breath. “I know that I have been… unusually cold and irritable these past few weeks.” For a second, she expected him to interrupt with some quip but quickly realized that he had noticed how delicately she was treating this and grew more attentive himself. “Well,” she dragged the word out for as long as she could, “I recently realized the reason why I might have been acting that way, and wanted to come to you first to apologize for my behavior along with providing you with a formal resignation if that—”

“What?” 

She blinked. “A resignation.” 

“Now…” he tilted his head, trailing off into a hum. She couldn’t understand his expression, and with her Magic as damaged as it was, she couldn’t use it to read his intention either. “Why do you think a resignation would be necessary?” 

Seraphine squared her shoulders and inhaled shakily, putting her thoughts into order. “My Magic has been exhibiting rebellious tendencies unrelated to its usual difficulties. At first, I assumed it was due to nothing other than a minor inefficiency in some of the underlying Code that would be patched soon; however, I soon discovered that was not the case and that something far more serious was going on.”

Simon was still just watching her. 

“As you know, my Magic is based on simplistic morality and justice, balancing the scope of effects I have access to,” she continued with the calm but detached explanation. “It will not allow me to do anything with conceivable negative effects. Since this whole thing has started, that has changed. It has refused to power commands that under any past circumstances would have been fine. I…” She had to take a breath. “I believe that the new issue is that I myself have been deemed unworthy and corrupt.”

Seraphine hadn’t really been paying attention to Simon during the last section of her confession and so was started to hear him start laughing.  

“I’m sorry, Seraphine,” he said through chuckles. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but unworthy and corrupt? What makes you think that?” 

“NPCs are governed by the World Magic itself—”

“As are Admins,” Simon corrected. “All magical powers are.”

“Well, I don’t know what other explanation there is,” Seraphine shot back in frustration. “My Magic is fading— it’s nearly gone already, and… and…” she swallowed, trying to be brave about it. “I don’t have a soul, so it’s not like I’m losing the Magic, it’s like I’m losing myself. I am the Magic, and if it’s gone… then what will be left?”

There was a pause after which Simon let out a gentle sigh. 

“Seraphine, I’m going to be very blunt,” he said with absolute certainty. “You are not a perfect person, but I do not— I cannot and refuse to believe that the World Magic expects you to be.” 

“But—”

“And,” Hypixel cut her off, “this is exactly the kind of thing that you need to tell me about before it gets this far. Fading Magic isn’t a minor issue when it belongs to the foundational NPCs of one of my subworlds.” 

“I know, I know. I just thought that this was a test of some sort that I needed to pass, and so I kept putting off, and now… now I don’t know what to do.” Seraphine let her eyes wander to the small flames still burning in the fireplace. “I wasn’t being dramatic about that resignation, by the way. I am obviously not trustworthy enough—”

Once again, he interrupted with what she thought seemed like an involuntary snort. “Please, Seraphine, you’re too hard on yourself.” Simon gestured vaguely. “We both burn the candle at both ends, but you seem to be exceptionally attached to the idea of responsibility.” 

She couldn’t force herself to meet his eyes. “I think it’s important.”

“And it is,” he agreed kindly. “But you are honorable, fair, and good to a fault; things are not always what they seem, and power and responsibility mean nothing when you’re being crushed under them.”

“I know.” Seraphine finally turned to look at him and saw him give a single nod. 

“So will you let me take a look at it? Will you let me help?”

Inhale. “Go ahead.” Exhale. 

She tried not to be afraid of what he might find as Simon summoned the heart strand of her Magic, holding the waving beam of navy light tenderly in his hands that glowed softly with golden rays of their own. 

Hello.

Hi!

Seraphine couldn’t help but giggle at her Magic’s delight. Responsible yet endlessly cheerful would have been a way to describe it in the past, but ever since it had begun to fade, Seraphine had noticed much more doubt in its tone and hesitancy in its actions. (Although, part of her thought she might have just been projecting. If her Magic was expressing those feelings, it meant that she was too.)

Any error messages to report?

None!

Simon hummed, inspecting the Magic more closely. 

Can I have a log of the five most recent failed commands?

The most recent failed command was from October 18th at 07:22 regarding—

Stop. Both Simon and Seraphine had noticed the odd timing and froze. October? Has there been nothing more recent?

October 18th of last year is the most recent.

Simon looked at her. “Is that true?”

“No, no.” She shook her head, slightly dazed. “Commands were failing yesterday.”

He looked back toward the Magic. Search for commands originated in the queue by Seraphine but not executed.

There are many. Can the inquiry be focused further?

Irrelevant. Simon narrowed his eyes. Which source was fueling their execution?

4114205.

Seraphine felt like she had just had the wind knocked out of her. 

“That’s not you, is it?”

“No, that’s not mine.” Her breaths sped up. “Oh, gods, how did I not notice that— it’s like…” 

“Like you couldn’t,” Simon filled in for her, standing up and pacing back and forth after dismissing her deep blue Magic back into the void. The golden Magic that had been present at his fingertips diffused into small bulbs of light that flitted around him like lightning bugs. “It’s been acting like a cuckoo in the nest, however, with an actual glamor. You’ve been unknowingly redirecting your commands through a different magical source, which shouldn’t be possible, not unless…” 

There was a long pause. 

“Simon, that was the most ominous place you could have possibly trailed off at.”

“Wait, I just need to confirm—” he said frantically, “does it go the other way? Has 4114205 been piggybacking on your permissions?”

Seraphine nodded, closing her eyes to think over which of her commands had been successful recently. Excluding these, am I forgetting any other commands that I have executed in the past month?

Yes.

Which?

As soon as the Magic started listing items, Seraphine’s eyes shot open and she stared at Simon who was watching on with mirrored horror. “He used my Magic to get rid of the sun.”

“You just realized who 4114205 is, didn’t you?” He asked. 

“You knew?”

“I had a suspicion that it might be related to the only new variable we added recently.” Simon started pacing again. “So Dante is an issue. You’ve been trying to tell me from the start—”

“We can talk about that later,” she interrupted, standing with him and going into problem-solving mode. “Right now we have to make sure it doesn’t get any worse. I say we push up the date of the revolution, and we don’t have to tell them why.” 

Simon hummed. “Based on these developments, however, I’d place Dante as a bit more than just a corrupted Slime. A shapeshifter, good enough to fool you? All evidence points toward a virus at best, so I want to have that armor done in time otherwise I don’t know how it’ll go, but rushing that could cause other, worse, unforeseen consequences.” 

“Rushing magical innovation is always bad, but do we have another choice?” Seraphine looked at him imploringly. “...I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

Hypixel nodded at her in forgiveness and then continued to pace back and forth for a few seconds before stopping. “The main concern is that he usurps your role, correct?”

“Yes?”

“Then we can keep the plan the way it is. If we don’t react, he’ll have no idea we know. He hasn’t been aggressive so far, so I think Dante will stay pretty tame for a while yet.” Simon snapped his fingers and caught a large and heavy book that appeared midair. “I can just make a failsafe.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “And that is?” 

A faux-peacock feather pen appeared in his hand with a golden flash of light as Simon opened and began to write something out on one of the later pages of the book. “We kill him.” 

Seraphine felt the moment that the world itself changed to accommodate the command as it was completed and charged, the Magic clicking into place like a pair of handcuffs. It didn’t belong to her, but the small newfound connection between her’s and Dante’s Magic allowed her to gauge the immense strength with which Simon’s command latched on. She turned back to the Admin in shock. 

“I hid it,” Simon explained, as if that made it any better. “He won’t know it’s there.”

“A runic slash-kill command is incredibly risky and dangerous, Simon—” Seraphine gaped. “You’ve effectively made a bomb waiting to be set off—”

“I’ve only given it the energy to run once and locked it so that it can only affect Dante,” he said calmly and then scoffed. “And you’re so worried about it being runic, that’s exactly what makes it useful.” 

“Anyone can use a runic command—”

“Meaning that if anything goes wrong, you or any of the other Admins I tell about this can simply input the Code and it’ll work off of my Magic. Immediately.” Simon crossed his arms, dismissing the book back into the air. “Slash-kill commands are very draining and often time-consuming, both of which might be in short supply by the time something like this would become necessary, and this one will probably not even need to be used at all. It is to prevent a worst-case scenario.”

“But…” the word trailed off into a sigh. “Ugh, Simon, this is a bad plan—”

“I am open to alternative suggestions.”

“—But I don’t have any other ideas. If it takes a bad idea to deal with a bad situation, so be it.”

He smiled reassuringly at her. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll be there in person, and you know that I won’t allow anything to happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Seraphine pinched the bridge of her nose as she said the words. “You crazy Stylobates and your infinite power and protectiveness.”

Simon started laughing.

Simon’s soul was a strange and vast place. It sparkled like the stars and was dense like one too, powerful, bright, and able to fill a room with its burning radiance. Any dealings with his Magic also always left the taste of metal in her mouth, and Seraphine could swear that the jingling of keys or rustling of coins always followed him around. It made sense that one of the most frequent manifestations of his Magic was a physical skeleton key on a long golden chain that shone like it had just been pulled out of a forge. 

On the same note, Hypixel’s ochre soul limned industry and innovation through a feeling of biting steel alongside the pleasant smell of new books. He worked in simple yet curious absolutes: everything can be explained, even if that explanation might not always be easy to solve nor to accept. Like a blacksmith, his Magic would melt and rend the world itself into new shapes, finding order within the chaos of it all. Seraphine had felt souls represented by fire before, but Simon’s golden light had always gone beyond being just that. 

His soul was the sun in all its glory. It nurtured living things to grow, but it was able to take lives just as easily. As with all things, there needed to be a balance, and Seraphine could not name anyone better to hold the grand torch of creation in their hands than Simon. 

He wielded absolute power able to set the world ablaze and watch it burn… but she knew with certainty that he never would. Therefore, despite all their disagreements, that fact was all that really mattered. So long as she could say that she trusted him, she would be honored to be at his side. 

(And she knew that the reciprocal was just as true, he would be at her side the second she needed it. Their loyalty had gravity, and it would keep them together through anything.)

Seraphine might’ve escaped from the more immediate fear of dying, but now she was faced with an enemy that had by this time become more like an old friend: bureaucracy. It had been a week or so since her meeting with Simon, and the revolution’s armor and weapons were ready. ‘Rush-order’ was all Hypixel would say when she had asked how they had gotten finished so fast and if any testing had been done. However, to Seraphine’s consternation— not that she wanted people to get hurt, but out of a desire to follow normal safety procedures— the injury rate for the staves so far was below one percent, so Simon had decided that the experiment was ‘a huge success.’ Unfortunately, this success left her with the difficult task of distributing the new supplies to the revolutionaries. 

Of course the day that they decided to show up and claim their piece of the pie was one of her busiest, so it ended up taking her a while to notice Technoblade, Dream, and Squidkid idling at the side of the room watching her run around like a headless chicken. 

After taking a second to catch her breath and walking over to the trio, a quick run-through by her fingers fixed her hair to make it even slightly presentable as Seraphine took a deep breath. “Technoblade, Dream, and Squid.” She studied them intensely, deciding to address the elephant in the room first, “Technoblade, first, you should know that you have been democratically elected as the leader of our revolution, and that when we overthrow Dante, you will be immediately instated as the new Mayor.”

“So I heard.”

She really didn’t like the look in his eyes. “I trust that you will act with grace befitting the position.”

“No promises.”

With an obviously disapproving hum, she turned to Dream. “Dream, you have received enough votes that when Technoblade becomes Mayor, you will join his cabinet.”

“I… what?”

He’s still surprised.

“The people,” Seraphine continued sternly, “have deemed you worthy of these positions, do not let them down.”

“I will,” Techno said at the same time that Dream said, “I won’t.”

A beat. 

The idiots faced each other in surprise. 

“Techno-”

He interrupted, “when did you get morals?” 

“I… actually don’t know.”

Technoblade snorted. 

How did either of you two get this far?

“Yes, hm,” Seraphine said, not even trying to hide her glare, and against her better judgement, turned to the man in green. “Dream I’m going to ask you to keep Technoblade in line should these statements become more than just jokes.”

“Uh- okay.”

Squidkid raised a hand to his mouth to cover his laughter. 

Seraphine took another calming breath. “There’s one more thing. We recently received intel that Dante is… how should I put this… not quite human.”

Squid blinked at her. “What does that mean?”

“Some of the more helpful and concerned Admins looked into his past, and Dante seems to actually be something of a malicious shapeshifter, a virus of the slime variety.”

“Slime?” Techno suddenly looked up with interest and worry, “aren’t they like- immune to most weapons or somethin’?”

“Indeed they are,” Seraphine said, impressed that he actually knew the background, “hence why we’ve called all of our revolutionaries in for special weapons and armor.” She waved over at a few sets of the golden yellow armor sets sitting on individual stands, each with a staff hovering next to it. “Take a set for yourself.”

There was a sort of awe that all three of them approached putting on the armor that made even Seraphine take a moment to appreciate the artistry that Simon and the others had put into making them. 

Remind me to actually sing my praises to Simon next time I see him.

Noted. Her Magic even seemed to be a little bit smug about it. It had been easier for her recently after giving up on commands for the moment. Doing menial tasks by hand was slightly annoying, but it was better than the painful pushback she was sure she would receive if she accidentally drew on Dante’s Magic instead of her own. It was hard to accept that she had to depend on the Players to fix things, but she knew that Technoblade had a good heart behind his physical and mental skills. 

However, out of the three of them, Seraphine felt stuck on Dream’s small smile as he placed the laurel on his head of sandy hair. Sure, Technoblade’s and Squidkid’s wore eager grins of their own, but Dream’s was quieter. He expressed the same excited sentiment as them, but there was a coloring of hope to his expression that she was glad to see. 

Seraphine caught Dream’s eyes after he looked at the armor stand’s label and said, “We named it as such because our revolution is going to be the Skyblock's new dawn. Since Dante has plunged the server into eternal night and all, we’re going to literally bring back the sun.”

“What enchantments are on these?” Techno asked, flexing his fingers slowly and staring at them with wide eyes before looking over at Seraphine. “I feel like I could fight god and win.”

“We made them able to channel your reputation, making you stronger based on how many people support you,” Seraphine said smugly, proud to be so skillfully represented by the Admins of her home. “Your strength, health, and intelligence scale linearly with each vote you received in the election.”

A childish glee appeared on Techno’s face as he said reverently, “clout armor.”

Dream wheezed as Seraphine half-smiled-half-grimaced. Technoblade wasn’t wrong per se, and she knew Simon would get a kick out of the armor set’s new nickname.

Seraphine pointed Squid next to the golden staff adorned with rubies sitting beside his armor stand and said, “And of course you will each get a ‘Staff of the Rising Sun’ which may be the only weapon actually able to hurt Dante.”

Dream picked up his own staff and twirled it around while she watched on. She hated to admit it, but he had some talent. Could she reasonably not tell them about the staves' actual abilities? She’d be doing everyone a favor, but could she really?  

Already regretting everything, Seraphine added, “It shoots fireballs.”

“No way!” Dream shouted with a devilish glint in his eyes as Techno just laughed what could only be called a villain’s laugh.

Seraphine exhaled, shaking her head. “I think you might’ve been right about the weakness of democracy, Technoblade.”

Techno chuckled, “It’s too late to take it back now. I’ve got power and I’m keepin’ it.”

“Power corrupts,” Dream chided, grinning, “and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“I’m goin’ to commit so many crimes.”

Great.

Squid giggled, pointing his staff at the wall and shooting a burst of flame forward. “This has gotta be one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.”

“Children,” Seraphine interrupted, “I’m dealing with children.”

“Pointy stick go boom,” Squid said simply, “and that’s objectively pretty fricken cool. I don’t know what you want from us.”

“Look,” she said, letting her bone-deep exhaustion lace her words, “I don’t care what you do as long as you show up on the sixteenth and help us get rid of Dante. And please, please, don’t do anything worse when you’re in power.”

“Again, no guarantees-”

Dream suddenly interrupted, “We’ll make sure that Techno doesn’t just delete the sun again.” 

She felt her expression soften as they exchanged a look. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. “Thank you, Dream.” She looked around at them seriously. “And good luck, the next time I see you will likely be in battle.”

Techno tilted his head in acknowledgement genuinely for the first time during the conversation. “I’m always up for overthrowing a corrupt government.”

Dream offered his fist for a fist bump. “Team Chaos?”

“Team Chaos,” Techno agreed with a smile, meeting Dream’s fist with his own. 

“Team Chaos?” Squid asked, joining them. “I want in on that.”

Dream laughed and then put his fist back in the middle, glancing at Techno. “Whaddya say, Technoblade? Shall we let him?”

Techno shrugged, grinning. “I don’t see why not.”

With a wide smile of his own, Squid added his fist to the fist bump.

“On three,” Techno called. 

Techno started, “One.” 

“Two!” Dream interjected, and Techno frowned at him. 

“Three!” Squid finished. 

And they came together as one: “TEAM CHAOS!”

Seraphine slapped her forehead. “I cannot believe that the safety of our world rests on your shoulders.”

“Our very capable shoulders you mean,” Technoblade corrected and then proceeded to try and twirl his staff only to immediately drop it, sending it clattering to the floor and rendering his previous statement completely null and void. 

Dream burst out laughing, and even Seraphine couldn’t completely disguise her own quiet snort. 

“You were right,” Seraphine sighed out, holding her warm cup of coffee between both hands. 

A slight smile tugged at Elizabeth’s lips as she finished her sip of a caramel latte. “I often am,” she responded cheekily before setting the cup down and focusing entirely on Seraphine, “but what was I right about this time?” 

“Well, you all were right is what I mean.” Seraphine stared down into her cup, swirling the drink around in a circle. “There was something bothering me.”

“And— don’t tell me.” Elizabeth held up a finger as she took another sip of the latte. “You felt better after talking to someone about it?” 

She exhaled, releasing all her stress as her shoulders fell. “I did.” 

“We’re geniuses!” 

Seraphine chuckled, watching the way that the dawn light illuminated Elizabeth’s platinum blonde hair as she raised a fist triumphantly. She cared about everyone on Skyblock, but that was just who she was— good, to a fault. When it came to her friends, however, Seraphine couldn’t be more grateful that they were there to care about her. “What I mean to say is that I’m sorry, and I should’ve listened to you all, and if I had just talked to you, I could have…” There was a pause, and Seraphine’s hold on the cup tightened. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, Seraphine?” Elizabeth grinned warmly, her ruby eyes lighting up with the crow’s feet that appeared at their edges. “We all love you, and we already forgave you.” 

“...I love you guys too.”

Her smile somehow grew even wider, and then Elizabeth leaned in conspiratorially. “Of course, your prickly personality is part of the appeal—”

“Elizabeth!”

The revolution itself actually wasn’t going that badly. 

The speech to Dante had been all for show, of course. Seraphine hadn’t expected anything to come from it, so it had only been a bonus when Technoblade’s absurd interjection of ‘simp!’ had derailed any progress for at least a minute. She was glad that Simon hadn’t been there to see her laugh, as she was sure that she would have never lived it down. 

She could imagine his teasing tone. ‘Oh, Seraphine? I think they might have grown on you—’

No. No, no. 

She still definitely hated them. 

Technoblade was a walking headache, and Dream was… well, Dream. 

Anyways, after Dante had revealed his true form, Seraphine had sent over a quick message to Simon asking whether the Admin knew about it to receive a frustratingly vague, ‘in theory, yes.’ She had been ready to step in and assist if needed, but to her surprise the Players seemed competent for once. Dante and his goons were still wreaking havoc across the hub, but the revolutionaries were largely winning. Another quick exchange with Simon later wherein he said he was already getting an idea for a ‘rebuilding’ questline, Seraphine had stepped back fully to simply watch the carnage and announce pointers from time to time. 

It was actually quite a good show, so Seraphine became lost in simply watching the skill (or lack thereof) that the Players went at it until she jumped as someone else’s Magic tapped her on the shoulder. 

Wanna see something cool?

“Simon.” His name came out as a hiss, and Seraphine could hear the golden Magic of the man in question laughing at her. 

There’s one other thing about the armor set I didn’t tell you.

“Oh dear gods,” Seraphine sighed, “this is gonna be good.”

Oh, relax. It’s cosmetic.

She raised an eyebrow, feeling her own Magic mirroring the intention of the gesture. 

Mostly cosmetic.

“There it is.”

Can you steer it?

“Steer what, Simon?” 

Come on, work with me here.

Sighing, Seraphine ran back into the fray, quickly realizing what exactly Hypixel was talking about. She felt it in the air itself— that static charge running through all of the armor sets. It didn’t travel over onto the physical plane, so she was sure that she was one of the few who could actually tell it was there, but it still seemed like a major oversight that whatever Simon was planning on doing was making her feel like she was about to be struck by magical lightning. 

He clearly sensed her unease due to the calming feeling his Magic immediately sent over. 

Can you get them to focus their attention for a second? Upwards, preferably.

Jumping up onto one of the porches near the center of the action, Seraphine shouted, “Send your energy to your leader, look up to the sky!”

With that direction, the electric charge coalesced in the air, drawing from the adrenaline, hope, and Magic in every single one of the revolutionary Player’s souls, and manifested into a shooting star that burst into small showers of sparks that drifted down from the heavens. As each individual glowing fragment would land on a Player, their armor would light up with it, and Seraphine watched in wonder as more and more human beacons illuminated the night. She felt as even the fabric of the cloak on her back warmed with the Magic, and, looking over her shoulder, realized that they really did look like the soft rays of the morning sun. 

Pretty cool, huh?

Seraphine smiled. “I give it a six outta ten.”

With more clarity than it had expressed in weeks, her Magic supplied, It’s beautiful.

“My own Magic,” she gasped softly, “betraying me.”

As you keep reminding me, you are the Magic Seraphine. You aren’t fooling anyone.

She laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, Simon.” 

Well, that’s all I had for now. Go on and enjoy the show. I’ll meet you at where the Town Hall used to be when it’s over.

Roger roger.

She did as he suggested, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was rather enjoyable. Plus, the now-glowing armor sets gave it that extra pizzazz that she fell in love with. She was definitely going to be talking to Taylor and Seymour when this was over to get their opinions on the armor. Taylor was for sure going to be raving about the light-up abilities of the set, and Seraphine wouldn’t be shocked to hear that their upcoming fashion line would incorporate elements of that same ‘sparkle.’ She smiled knowingly, already seeing the possible designs in her mind. 

And then, out of nowhere, everything just broke. 

Seraphine felt the command go off like the firing of a crossbow but from two separate locations— the receiving end and the trigger. The first one, from the slight connection she had to Dante, promptly lit up with and was consumed by golden flames before drifting off into the void as nothing but but a smear of ash. The other was from Simon’s side, the dormant Magic from the runic command he had set exploding into full force within a single second and vanishing immediately after. At the same time, all her Magic returned in a rush, filling a gaping hole within her and lifting a weight that she hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone. 

Back in the physical realm, Dante’s gigantic slime body had disintegrated, leaving behind trace bits of ooze strewn about the hub. The Players were all cheering, but it felt like she was only hearing them through a layer of wool. Seraphine herself leaned her full weight against a wall, breathing heavily at the return of her Magic. She had no greater desire right then than taking a nap for a few hundred years, but responsibility always came first. Closing her eyes, Seraphine pulled up the fading remnant of Simon’s runic command thread. 

Runic commands were different in that they didn’t draw power from the one who triggered them, but instead from the one who had written them in the first place. So, when she first dove into the command line in search of an explanation all she could find was Simon’s touch written over everything, but then, at the very end of the mystical gibberish she grabbed a hold of another magical signature. 

To be completely honest, she hadn’t known what she had expected to find, but the pessimist in her was already thinking up contingencies if there had been some nefarious reason why the slash-kill command had been activated. 

What came as a shock, however, was the sharp and shrill SORRY! that accompanied the recognizable magical signature. 

You have got to be kidding me , Seraphine deadpanned to her Magic which giggled slightly.  

This was the worst! This was the worst. Was this some sort of cosmic joke?

It was an accident.

I can tell, Seraphine shot back. 

With a final additional sorry! from the earthly green soul as she released the command line, Seraphine opened her eyes. 

“Ugh.” 

This is probably important to pass along to Simon.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” 

Nothing was ever easy.

“It was an accident,” she began breathlessly after completing the first successful teleport that her Magic had allowed in weeks. 

Simon turned to greet her, attentive but calm as he looked over the destruction. “Thought so.” 

“The intentions read as initially humorous and then immediately transition into shock, regret, and fear post-activation.” 

“Look, I get it,” he said, raising a hand and letting a slight grin break through his ‘professional’ expression. “Just never thought I’d see the day you defend Dream.” 

Seraphine faltered, both her brain and heart hesitating in disagreement. “Hey, no.” She ran back to his side as they made their way through the rubble. “That’s a misrepresentation. I’m defending the truth here.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Simon,” Seraphine said, her voice full of exasperation, “just because I like him marginally better than that Blood Warrior you so favor—”

“Ah.” He stopped her, still grinning, and pinched his fingers together with the next statement. “So you admit you might be just a tiny bit attached?”

She blinked, deadpan. “You are insufferable.” 

Finally, Simon just broke out into laughter, and she crossed her arms in response. 

“Fine, fine,” he said as the laughs faded. “I’ll talk to him, Seraphine.” 

Her brows furrowed slightly as she caught the undertone of his words. “Wait, wait— Simon, don’t scare him.” 

“Why would you think I’m going to scare him?” 

“Because you do that when you’re bored.” Seraphine rolled her eyes at Simon’s innocent expression. “Can you just be normal about it, please?” 

“I dunno… activating a command could be considered a criminal offense—”

“I told you that a runic command was a bad idea,” she argued playfully, knowing that he didn’t mean it. “Technically, the fault for this lands on you. I could make the argument for negligence. ”

“...I suppose you’re right.” 

This time she just laughed, glad that it was all finally over. 

“Simon, why did he look like you threatened to kill his dog?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Sure, I totally believe you…”

Slowly, everything began to go back to normal. 

The questline to clean up the hub was going well enough that Simon had reached out to her about planning some sort of celebration to mark the defeat of Dante and experimental implementation of the Player government. Plus, it would be nice to get the Mayor and his Cabinet together for once in front of an audience. (Though Seraphine knew that actually making that happen was going to be more difficult than herding cats without fish.) 

Seraphine had mentioned the party to Elizabeth and earned an excited yell along with a partner-in-crime. It soon became clear that Seraphine was not built for design, and most of the decorative jobs moved into Elizabeth’s or Marco’s (who the blonde had roped into helping them) hands. 

Seymour was excited to see his business boom with formal purchases for the event, and he eagerly worked with Taylor to create looks for all of them. 

Sirius had even offered some funding to help out with costs, though Seraphine had assured him it wouldn’t be necessary. Simon still found it too funny to just ‘make more money’ rather than change anything about the already overblown economic health of Skyblock. In his joking words, the money was just going back into the system, so really, he was helping. Trusting that Simon was being genuine about it wasn’t always a good plan though, as she knew him well enough to guess that half of the things he would say were only to get a rise out of her. 

In her own obsession over making sure that the banquet went perfectly, Seraphine had ended up forgetting to purchase an outfit of her own, a mistake which was solved by Elizabeth who surprised her with a gift over dinner the night before. The dress was beautiful, and though Elizabeth wouldn’t tell her how much it had cost or how she had gotten it, Taylor and Seymour’s exchanged look and wink when they first saw her at the celebration had given Seraphine a pretty significant hint. It had blue lace woven into the swirling shapes of storm clouds that covered her arms and back, and the long skirt of which was made up of a silk bottom layer and then sheer fabric above it interlaced with the same detailed cloud embellishments. 

It was no shock, however, to see Taylor and Seymour spend most of the night people-watching and rating the Players’ outfits rather than mingling. Refraction was the winner of the mock runway contest, according to them. Seraphine joined in from time to time, begrudgingly admitting that parties weren’t really her thing. She enjoyed planning them, sure, and she liked sharing her work with others, but that was about it. Being here herself was merely a formality. 

Simon had also mentioned he might show up but added that he wasn’t really planning on talking to many people and instead would be happy with wherever the night brought him. 

Eventually, Seraphine found herself at the edge of the celebration, sitting on a few stones along the rim of a fountain that wasn’t up and running just quite yet. She passively took in the smiles of the Players that danced by as payment. It was always gratifying to see that her work was appreciated. 

What was strange, at least at first, was that Technoblade, who had also been avoiding interpersonal interaction as much as he could, chose to sit down next to her at one point with a sigh. 

“So… you come here often?” 

A rather undignified snort escaped her, and Seraphine placed a hand over her mouth for a second before saying back between laughs, “Did you practice that one in front of a mirror?” 

He looked at her in offense. “What? That’s somethin’ that perfectly normal functional people, like myself, say all the time.” 

Seraphine grinned, nodding seriously. “Sure.” 

A beat.

“Eh, what can I say,” Techno said more genuinely with a shrug. “This was the quietest corner of the square, and I needed a bit of space.” 

“I get it. That's why I’m here too.” 

He gave a single grateful nod, and then they fell into silence for a while. 

“I also wanted to say thank you.” 

Now, that startled her, which Technoblade could clearly tell by the way his own eyes widened slightly as she turned to face him fully. 

“Look,” he began, gesturing lightly as he spoke, “I don’t like your whole government thing that you’ve got goin’ on, but I can tell that you care.” 

She slowly took a breath, allowing herself to really see him for the first time instead of just acknowledging his soul. From the discomfort he still expressed at wearing that nice black suit to the self-assured way that he always managed to hold himself with, it was all so plainly Technoblade. His name had been thrown around ever since she could remember, the mythologue of his life only growing and growing until the Technoblade existed, the larger-than-life champion. 

But this person in front of her, he wasn’t the Technoblade, he was just… Techno. 

“For what it’s worth, even though I have expressed my less than favorable opinion on your election,” she finally replied with a gentle smile, “I know you care too.” 

He just smiled back. 

“I will admit that I had… doubts about your return here,” Seraphine continued softly. “However, I will accept when I am wrong, and, in this case, I am glad that Simon did not listen to me.”

“Wait a second, he asked you? You knew?”

She met his brown eyes again, nodding slightly. “We’re very different people, but I think he likes to have someone that argues with him in a constructive way. Hypixel passed along what you had told him, and my response was that welcoming you back accompanied by someone you were breaking out of a prison was a risk that we need not take.” 

For once, Technoblade didn’t jump to any defense. He just waited, and Seraphine felt like he could tell that she had one last thing to say. 

“I see now that though we didn’t need to do anything, there was still a chance that we could.” A firework went shooting off into the sky with a melodic whistle, and both of their gazes moved to follow its path. “I’m glad we did,” she whispered after it had exploded into a fiery star, “and I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad we’re here too. I think it helped.” His volume matched hers. “Both of us.” 

“Good.”

“Now,” Technoblade said, his tone growing more lighthearted, “if you wanted to know what you really should change around here, might I suggest looking into anarchy?”

Seraphine burst out into laughter just as more fireworks went off above them, illuminating both their faces in a myriad of colors. “I may be open to being convinced after the shenanigans that have gone down recently.”

“Perfect, perfect, when are you free?”

“I mean— I’ve got time now.”

Technoblade’s eyes positively lit up at the opportunity. “Oh, okay, so we’re gonna start with a general explanation of—”

The ringing of a communicator cut him off, and Technoblade groaned. 

“Bad timing,” she joked as he pulled a communicator out of the inside pocket of his suit with a heavy sigh and placed it against his ear. 

Annoyance quickly switched to confusion as soon as the person on the other line started talking, and Seraphine watched as Technoblade’s expression fell into one of barely concealed panic. He looked back at her to which Seraphine interrupted with a reassuring, “Go on,” waving him off. 

She watched him hurry off with a new concern of her own. 

Hope everything is okay. 

Everything was not okay apparently, as evidenced by the frantic goodbye that she attended several hours later, feeling like the odd one out as she promised that she’d watch over their duties in the meantime. 

She didn’t miss Simon’s choice of words to Dream either. They’d definitely be having a conversation of their own after this was over. She couldn’t tell if he had a plan in mind yet or whether it had just been presented as an option, but Seraphine had a feeling that whatever it was was going to be a headache for her later. 

As the portal closed behind the two of them with a crack, Simon turned to her and whispered, “I give them a month.”

Seraphine snorted. “Less than.”

“You’re on.” 

And now, they would wait. 

Seraphine didn’t have a soul. No NPCs ever did. 

They were Magic given sentience, Magic given personality, Magic given character.

However, despite the fact that she didn’t have a soul to read like those of the Players she refused to admit she was terribly fond of, there were still elements of consistency within her Magic. 

Seraphine felt it surge and swell like huge waves, dizzyingly vast and unknowable like the deepest of seas. It changed like everything did, but it changed like the tide: patterned and orderly. Even down to the smallest of drops, it was built upon path dependence. 

However, there was one other thing she frequently seemed to identify in her Magic, and that was a life preserver. The boat of her Magic would not break from its bearing unless it was to help someone else, and when Simon and her would work together, she would often sense the essence of a lighthouse between them. 

On one hand, her Magic was that which fought through hurricanes and typhoons, and on the other, it could become as destructive as those same storms if not kept in check. Seraphine believed that was why she could never do anything even slightly damaging. She remembered when she had been first working on building Skyblock with Simon and had described her power as ‘the simple good, or the small.’ 

She would never be able to use her Magic to rule or punish, but she could mend a broken plate. She could make a flower bloom. She could protect. The waves of her Magic could wash away harm and slowly begin to soothe that which remained. 

The only other thing she knew about her Magic was how perceptive it was, which was how she had been given the title of ‘monitor’ that few knew. It was always watching, always noticing and oh-so committed to doing good— just like Seraphine. 

It became her responsibility to support and safeguard, a role which she embraced with honor and zeal. Learning how to do that skillfully was the real battle, but she knew she would never give up. She was always getting better at understanding the complexities of good and bad, and she was beginning to realize what having this responsibility actually meant.

She would not fight. She was not made for accusations nor justice. Despite believing so strongly in what she saw as right, she was not a judge, jury, or executioner. 

All she could do was invite someone to sit down beside her in the sand and talk as the tide slowly carried all their grief away. 

“Why are you making me read through legal documents?” Seraphine sighed, massaging her temple as she stared at the heavily-bound book set in front of her. “Is this torture? Did I piss off someone in management?” 

Faith shrugged. “This whole thing has been one long game of hot potato. No one seemed to have the answer, so it’s been passed all the way t’ya.” 

“Must be some crazy story if you got it before me,” Seraphine said, clearing the papers she had been looking through from her desk and pulling the book closer. It was nice to be working in her old office in the newly renovated Town Hall, but it did also unfortunately make it much easier for people to bother her. “You don’t even work on the frontlines anymore.”

“Someone was askin’ around regarding Player positions— like in subworld governments?” Faith ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. “Since I used to be involved with the elections, it was assumed that I was the best fit for the case, but having an actual Player as a Mayor? That’s a recent development. The only thing I could find was that.” She pointed at one of the section headings. 

Seraphine narrowed her eyes, muttering as she read random bits of it, “Granted authority pertaining only to the governance of local— blah, blah, blah, finishing their elected term… removed from service under conditions as stated in Title Five section, I don’t care…” she hummed, noticing the Title number of the chapter she was reading from. “Title Eighteen?” 

Faith grimaced apologetically. “I know cross-server legislation sucks.” 

“Yeah, foreign relations,” she drawled, looking back at the book, “everybody’s favorite topic.” 

“The original inquiry was regarding an extradition, actually.” 

“An extradition?” Seraphine raised an eyebrow. “For who—”

“...Having an actual Player as a Mayor? That’s a recent development.”

Seraphine jolted, staring up at her predecessor. “Faith, is this about Technoblade?”

“He wasn’t mentioned by name,” Faith answered delicately, “but everyone in the office was pretty sure it was referring to him— or that other guy he was hangin’ out with?”

“Dream?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Seraphine blinked at the code book. “But they left a few days ago, we can’t extradite someone who’s not even here.” 

“That’s what I said,” Faith laughed. “At first I was gonna leave it there, but I noticed section 136 and thought they might like to see that too.” 

“But 136 only applies off-server, it’s basically a—” she paused, her face falling as she realized what was likely going to happen. “Ah.”

“You see the possible issue now?”

Seraphine placed her elbows onto the desk thoughtfully, interlacing her fingers together and leaning her chin against them. “Okay,” she said slowly after thinking for a few seconds, meeting Faith’s gaze, “we tell them what we know, and I guess we just have to deal with the repercussions from there.”