Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bet you'd like to get the freak show started

But my moves work slow

There's a presence here that I've imparted

Centuries ago

The crow's heart drops, seeing the screen before him with the team divisions for the next two weeks. Philza was cautious coming into this event, his only drive was the voice taunting to complete this event was to win the knowledge of where his children are. He didn’t trust this for a second despite willingly putting himself in this situation because for his children, the world. Ancient instincts were flooding adrenaline through his ageless form tight with paranoia.

Tugging on his black backpack straps in a nervous gesture, he glances around the large building they now stood within. Looking at Fit, Forever and Missa, he regrets not having their name beside his within this group he had been sorted into. Half their team hadn’t been seen for months, the rest were in the same train that dumped them in the middle of nowhere.

“Come on Phil, we need to get ready!” Foolish beckons him over, the crow drawing close to the shark totem hybrid.

“I don’t trust this.”

“Neither do I.”

“Glad to have you, mate.”

“Yeah, unlike the entire bottom row of our team.” Foolish scoffs, a knowing look deep within his orbs the same shade as precious emerald, like gems were inlaid in his sockets.

Phil’s shocked gasp cuts off their banter, seeing the portal they faced flare to life, the ground far beneath them as their inventories emptied without their choice.

“Oh that cannot be good.” Slimecicle says, sarcasm dripping from his words as only paragliders remain within the glowing void they could access at their fingertips.

Jaiden and Cellbit trade looks, the brunette man then turning to Phil.

“So we jump?”

Glancing around Phil watches the rest of the teams throw themselves through, giving an unreturned wave to his skull-wearing husband’s back as he gleefully leaps. Moving closer, Phil catches a similar look on Cellbit’s face as he watches Roier.

The brunette’s husband does turn and give him a look full of a thousand emotions, the most being longing and sorrow. Phil holds Cellbit’s trembling shoulder, giving him a grounding touch. Looking over the others he wished were near him; Fit, Etoiles, Tubbo…..so many he now worried he would be against in this coming moon the crow’s stomach twists.

“Let’s go.” Decisive and to the point, Phil takes one more look at everyone gathered before stepping through.

Suddenly at a different angle, the hanglider's fabric snaps taut as he watches the rest of his team plunge towards the ground below. A few of them follow Phil’s lead, landing safely while some die, death messages pinging on the communicators they all spawned with.

As Phil’s sandaled feet touch the torched earth below, he realises the comforting weight of his backpack against his shoulders is missing and falls to his knees. As he does so his wings extend in an attempt to balance himself before failing, twin agonies singing up the delicate bones as they slap against the ground. Jagged shadows trim the end of the once grand night feathers, shorn to the bloody skin between patches of broken shafts.

Phil had fallen behind on preening his once beautiful appendages, losing the motivation when he couldn’t use them to dance among the stars with his beloved. He scowls, digging his pitch-tipped fingers deep within the dry soil before two sets of feet appear within his view. Looking up, he sees Cellbit’s look of pity and Foolish’s expression full of sorrow.

Twisting his lips, they both hold out a hand offering falling back to a neutral facade. He takes them, slowly getting upright as they wrap arms around his waist beneath his cut wings to keep him stable. Without the heavy weight of a full wingspan or a backpack, he felt completely out of his element. An unsettling feeling for one nearly immortal, for a simple world change to leave him so off-kilter. To be fair to himself, he usually had his glorious wingspan to help him survive.

Baghera and Jaiden are also only now picking themselves up to stand, Slimecicle helping Carre. The rest of his group slowly makes their way over to the other three, gathering around where Phil is leaning heavily on Foolish and Cellbit.

“Are you okay?” Foolish asks softly.

“No.” Phil adjusts his stance, still feeling wobbly. “I need something to help me balance, I am used to having a large amount of weight attached to my back.”

“Let’s create something to help him, for now, to that stump.” Cellbit gestures with his chin to a fallen tree’s root.

Walking the blonde avian over, he settles heavily as Foolish and Cellbit go explore, heads tilted towards one another as they mumble ideas. Phil looks around at the place they were dropped into, seeing panes of glass extending high in the sky forming a dome around them. Acacia trees surrounded them, dull burnt grass beneath his feet with a few gaping maws of caverns in the hills that circle the space they had been left.

Jaiden and Baghera were laughing about something Charlie Slimecicle said, always the morale booster when they were placed in stressful situations. Glancing around, Phil sighs as he thinks back about the videos that were shared prior to their forceful arrival here. Promising a vacation, they landed straight in some type of purgatory intent on tearing friendships apart and dashing their hopes to dust while holding their children's lives in limbo if they did not comply.

“Will this work?” Cellbit breaks his observation, holding out a hastily crafted crutch, Phil takes it with a nod. 

Swallowing heavily he gets to his feet and leans on it, testing his weight against it. Stronger than it looks, they make their way over to where the others stand. The rest of his group grows silent, each sharing a look as no one is quite sure what to do next. As if it was waiting for that queue, a beep echoes across all their devices, their communicator informs them of what to do next.

“We have to pick a leader?” Phil reads off, the team trading glances before Foolish breaks the silence.

“It’s an easy vote for me. Philza.”

“I agree, you are the best choice.” Providing his own vouch, Cellbit gives a respectful nod. “You have the most level head under pressure plus we need someone who can reign us in.”

Giving a solid glare to Charlie who does his best to look innocent, Phil chuckles. “Whatever you guys decide, I am there.”

Once all three teams chose, the communicator directed them towards the faceless merchants near where they spawned to hand in tasks requiring them to gather materials from the environment they found themselves within. They exploit their way through the glass barrier as Phil decides to go looting for shipwrecks just off the coast. It was a good source of iron and other early-world items, plus he was useless while still learning to balance once more on his feet, from a sitting position was much easier.

That was, until the deaths started. Two people he worried about the most on opposing teams made it their goal to make the newly appointed Team BOLAS’s lives a living hell. Tubbo with his sun-kissed strands and Badboyhalo, a demon cloaked in shadows from servers past, began their slaughter where Phil’s charges were set to respawn.

As he travelled his crows would routinely land on his shoulders, speaking of the horrors his companions faced as he turned his vessel around to go rescue those he had been made the leader of. Rushing across the sands of the shore after putting his boat within his inventory, practically falling over as his crutch dug deep within the loose particles of tiny stones beneath his feet.

By the time he got back, blood splattered the burnt grass, still soaking into the soil that was dry when they landed upon it hours earlier. His teammates were defeated, huddled around a fire. All had taken turns picking the others up from where they woke up, freshly formed by Her above as she allowed them to revive within the world’s rules.

Everyone gathered had taken off the gas masks that had quickly been adapted to their symbol, choosing to wear them at all times that they were not within their camp or an environment they didn't trust. It became their mark of solidarity with each other, after a first day so drowned in blood you formed lifelines within the darkness. But now that they were off, he could see the crestfallen expressions. Just because they could put up a front to everyone else, did not mean their act did not weigh upon them and eventually showed.

Cellbit handed him a new crutch after his first one broke in his rush to get back, leading him to the fireside within the half built stone tower Foolish had begun to construct. The crow wasn’t surprised, anytime Foolish stayed in one place too long he began to build. As he sat heavily down on the chair, he inspected this walking support as it felt different under his curious fingers. Eyeing the carvings of engraved birds climbing the polished wood then looking round the circle, Jaiden gave a small smile with her wings wrapped around her shoulders.

“Thank you for the carvings, they are lovely.” Phil’s critical eye inspected her beautiful plumage, night black leading to vibrant purple ending in bluebell feathers rivalling the bright flowers of early spring. Dusty and unaligned, he looks directly at her. “Want a hand?”

She had been idly picking at them, nodding as she moved closer. Baghera also hastily came over, unashamed to join the preening session. Each gave each other the opposite wings as Phil showed them tricks from his years of thousands, helping align hooks for smoother and quieter flight. Swallowing the envy of theirs that were not as harshly damaged as the crow’s own, Jaiden’s damn near healed under Phil’s guiding calloused fingers.

Wincing as he reaches, Cellbit’s ever present gaze catches the small gesture, warmth running down his spine from between his wings. Standing abruptly he moves to Phil’s back, gasping softly. Charlie and Foolish lapse into conversation once more, mainly consisting of the shark providing comfort to Slimecicle who is yelling loudly about something.

“Let us take care of you too.” Leaving no room for argument, Cellbit pulls out a healing kit they had crafted a while ago. Helping Phil shrug off the top half of his belted robe, Cellbit gives a low whistle at the stab wound perfectly between his wings.

The Goddess could only do so much, often they reawoke healed to the point they survived but not much more. Slowly over the next two weeks they would become covered in scars, several of their group already covered in marks of death after Tubbo and Bad’s murder mission.

Phil shakes his head, the girls working on each other's feathers as he prepares for a scolding, shooting occasional looks the crow’s way.

“You need to tell us, man.” Cellbit follows Phil’s thought pattern. “We need our leader alive.”

The mantle of responsibility settles heavily across the crows bowed shoulders, trying not to shudder as Cellbit begins to sanitize the wound Etoiles cut deep through his back. Remembering the terrifying sensation of his legs giving way, another set of limbs failed him, until Etoiles' well placed dagger severed the cord keeping him upright. His last moments seeing his brother-in-arms swing his gleaming sword down with a detached look.

Literally backstabbed, by the one he trusted the most.

Perhaps that’s why his emotional walls were so high since he returned, wanting none to worry about him as he could take care of himself. Until Cellbit noticed, Phil’s heart warmed at his careful touches as he stitched the flesh around the injury shut. Even after all this time, the sensation of the thread binding his skin together made him want to flinch away, using all his concentration to not. The man tending to him had a gentle, steady hand but it never got easier to receive stitches without anesthesia.

Foolish comes to his side and offers his hand, silently giving him what he needs grasping it. They had no numbing potions, Phil’s stomach turning over as he tried to stay conscious. Charlie, Baghera and Jaiden had begun to prepare places to sleep, the door fastened tight against the horrors that roamed outside. Hearing the unholy noise of mobs shuffling near their windows, Phil offered to take first watch as he would not sleep anytime soon. Everyone agreeing, he goes upstairs holding one of their only healing potions as one by one they cuddle into sleeping bags of various colours, some closer to each other than others, hand-in-hand against the hell they faced.

When the chilling of the night first hits you

Then you'll know I'm there

You can try to have the legends fix you

But you won't be spared

Balance exists that calls through the abyss

And in the chaos I create again

Dangling his legs off the edge, a bow he crafted at his side ready to be used, he picks at his wings finally acknowledging they could use the bare minimum of maintenance. Phil would be catching flak from Techno by now, if not tied to a chair as he picks off broken shafts deep within a winter climate somewhere. He missed his partner in anarchy and crimes, having the one he trusted the most kill him today had deeply unsettled his trust. Unconsciously keeping everyone around at an arm's length unless they forced their way closer, speaking of someone ascending the stairs behind him.

Breaking the quiet song of night, crickets humming as mobs stumbled below, Phil turns back and nearly startles at the man walking upstairs. That brunette wavy head of hair with one snow white strand resembled another so closely it hurt, reminding him to keep the youth far away from his death stained hands as he flinches feeling the stickiness of invisible tacky essence. Seeing a buttercup sweater painted red with his own son's death, deep within a cave far, far away from here.

“Evening, Phil.” Cellbit spoke as he came to sit at Phil’s side, immediately breaking his resolve to keep the intelligent lad far away with his mere presence. The crow had grown weak in his old age, soft with wanting to protect those he took under his wing.

It felt so natural to slip into a mentoring role, looking upon his companion’s eyes filled with that deep void under the light of his love’s moon. “Unable to sleep?”

“Got so used to Roier being near me when the nightmares hit–” He trails off, rubbing his arms Phil had seen earlier, covered in the scars after being attacked by a chainsaw.

“Makes it hard to sleep, I get it.” Thinking of using Techno’s snores as his lullaby, the crow had grown used to the pig’s timber-shaking sounds and quietness unnerved him. “Want to talk about it?”

“Only if you can give me something else to do other than tearing my skin open.” He quietly admits, nails caked with blood. 

Admonishing the act with gentlest touches, he wraps the brunette’s crimson covered forearms where the lacerations were the freshest. Returning the favour of cleaning wounds, he works with an expert touch covering them in bandages. Afterwards he hesitates, Cellbit glancing over the crow’s shoulder before pointing at his wings the crow had tucked close to his back.

“I noticed you only helped the others, didn’t touch your own. If you show me how, that's a good distraction.”

Hesitating, Phil finally nods and extends his left wing while handling his right. Alighting the plumage back into proper lines, Cellbit is quick to pick it up as his adept fingers dance across Phil’s shorn feathers.

“I want to go back home.” Cellbit’s quiet admission breaks the silence, opening the floor to conversation.

“How do we know we are not still there and only dreaming of this reality?” Phil keeps his eyes down, Cellbit’s hands freezing.

“Why would you say that?”

Eventually raising his eyes to Cellbit’s calculating gaze, curiosity spread across his features as they met. He knew the man would respect if he shut down the topic now, but the crow meant to tell his fellow leader of The Order about his birdhouse capture at some point.

“A while back, I was kidnapped.”

Cellbit sat up straighter, tilting his head as his focus slipped away from the appendage laying across his lap. “I heard rumours but decided to wait to believe them until I heard it from you.”

Taking a deep breath, Cellbit laid a hand on Phil’s bouncing knee. “Take your time, we have all night.”

“After a long day, I returned to my base to clear out my backpacks, descending to the basement to pack things away into storage. The first clue something was wrong was the missing trapdoor that protected my kids from the non-reinforced parts of the wall. Curious, I went down the vine-entwined ladder into complete darkness.”

Cellbit’s eyes widen, motions for him to continue.

“A single chest with violet blooms in pots on each side, stained one of Tallulah’s favourite colours, drew my attention after I placed torches on the walls where they were missing from. Inside was overflowing with blood-red poppies and a single leather-bound volume. Flipping it open, I find a story beautifully told and begging my attention, promising the safe return of my children if I went to the coordinates. Across torn pages, ink spilled blaming me for missing seeing my own hatchlings fledge and commenting on how the place I had carefully built was unsafe. Telling me to leave unburdened, carry nothing as I would not want for anything beyond my children.”

“Let me guess, you did.”

“It hurt.” Phil pictures tucking his backpack full of items that he worked hard for over the past few moons, locking it tight behind a code. “Going against every instinct, blinded by concern, I did.”

“And then?” Prompting him.

“The coordinates seemed familiar.” Dipping himself deep within the emotions he felt at that exact moment, he reminiscences on the joy of realising they were near the place he believed was safest.  “It was a location that is a closely guarded secret, I can count on one hand the amount of people who know about it, my children included. I thought for sure it was them, the whole situation was so fucking convincing I broke years old habits leaving all my supplies behind for said safe place.”

Cellbit offers no more interruptions, eyes slowly widening as Phil describes the home he landed in front of. Full of the chirping and warbling of several species of birds, the only clue indicating his chicks were the accessories left across a newly placed table before he was locked in. A whimsical prison, windows covered with deep black concrete and iron door obstructed with bedrock, something only a being with creation powers could move. Filled with avian’s singing that eventually haunted his thoughts, his own words being lost to the song of his blood. After three days, he stopped using his modern tongue and warbled along with those who flew around him, laying on the floor surrounded by various plumes.

Everything was a blur after that, his memories protecting the time of questioning whether it is day or night as he plucked away at his feathers. The floor became covered in self-molted plumage as bloody patches appeared on forcefully de-feathered wings, crimson speckles stuck the edges of fringing together.

Then one morning, daylight crept into his prison. The door had been cleared, eyes blinking in the harsh daylight as he took his first breath of fresh air. Blurry gaze follows the path leading to the horrifying bear hybrid who he screams at, Cucurucho mocking him. He then awakened collapsed in his basement, encircled by the heavy scent of poppy flowers and the dusky aroma of potatoes. Surrounded by said items, he makes his way quickly upstairs after stretching, choosing not to think of the nest he awoke in with those exact items.

“Wow.” Cellbit says simply, dropping his gaze to fix a few more shortened feathers before continuing. “How many know about your capture?”

“A few noticed, the only people I have told so far are you, Fit and Tubbo. I cannot say who outside of that is aware, Fit is sure to have told Pac.”

Cellbit lets out a chuckle, Phil rolling his eyes before his heart breaks once more thinking of his friends. “How many people here are thinking the same as us? Separated from our loved ones forced to see faces we adore on the opposing side? Just how far can we go before we break?”

“I've already broken.” Cellbit lets out a chilling laugh, holding his hands out between them. “Even behind closed eyes, I can feel the stickiness of blood between my digits. Killing those Federation workers felt good, a deserved action to elicit the Federation’s terrifying gaze so I could ask them about the location of our children. But that inspiration became drowned in the heavy copper I drenched myself in, an outlet I sometimes cannot control in the moment.”

Thinking of his history with Technoblade at his side, jade grass turned dark with their enemies entrails as he gripped his bow. His piglin partner wiping his sword on a fallen person’s cloak, the old lust for blood rising to the surface thinking of how powerful he felt surrounded by all that death.

Her Angel had come reaping, Blood God at his side. Legends told of times when they were against you, you begged the Death Goddess’s forgiveness as she had sent her ageless to hunt you. No one survived these confrontations, a crow and pig being the last thing they knew before steel sliced their life short.

“When the thirst takes you, it takes another to remove me from it, I understand.” Phil speaks quietly, catching Cellbit’s shock at his agreement. “There is much you don’t know about me, mate, perhaps I will tell you more soon. But for now, let me reinforce something.”

Reaching a hand out to cover Cellbit’s shaking one, he holds it tight. “I understand and will be that person for you if needed.”

“Same.” A voice broke into their conversation that they both turned too, tension leaving as Foolish appeared from the darkness. “I had evidence you were the one behind the murders left on display before we were shipped off, but I couldn’t turn you in. Lied through my pointy teeth.”

Sounding proud of himself, he sits down fidgeting with his braided hair as Cellbit turns his surprised glance upon the shark.

“Of course you did.” Phil rolls his eyes with a light-hearted sigh, looking at the demigod who loved chaos and playing all sides.

“Aw Phil, you know me.”

“There’s a history here I am not aware of, isn’t there?” Cellbit questions, looking between the crow and totem.

Nodding, Phil looks up at the twinkling heavenly bodies above. “A story for another night, perhaps.”

Yawning, Phil moves his wings in close and stretches his arms, looking between the two others in his company. Cellbit gestures towards the stairs with a tired smile, Foolish already sitting down on the other side of the brunette.

“Go sleep, Phil. We got this, today has been a lot.”

The exhaustion makes his bones feel ten times their weight, dragging him towards the earth as he sways once getting to his feet. Thankful once more for the crutch he holds onto tight he agrees with their assessment, he wishes them a good watch then finds an open spot of floor below to settle into. Sending one last prayer to his wife, slumber steals him away into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

Go ahead

Bury Me

I will not stay dead

Hold me down

Take my breath

I will thrivе instead

The next few days are a wild range of emotions. Occasional victories tied up with their losses, building up their resources and having to move their base when it was discovered took up a lot of their time. Phil slowly leaves the crutch in his inventory more, only pulling it out in the evenings when tired out from the day’s activities. It took a few days but he was more confident on his feet, feathers growing in surprisingly fast. An odd increased pace, combing his fingers through them each night on first watch. Cellbit and Foolish now often joined him in a precious few moments when it was only those three beneath the stars above, talking about the day behind them.

Deep within their new cavern base, a few sleeps since they arrived, Baghera held a sword out to Phil and asked him to train her. She had one of the higher death counts so far, only surpassed by Jaiden who had been killed several times over one day by a demon lacking sportsmanship. Only knowing the story through others, they spoke of Jaiden sitting on top of her own corpses with the most tired acceptance gained after many hours of facing her own demise. Covered in multiple scars as testament, her vision was distant these days, flinching when approached suddenly.

“Keep your stance wide.” Phil criticizes the duck hybrid, her blond hair tied in a tight bun at the nape of her neck in training clothes. “Much easier to stagger an opponent when you have better footing than your enemy.”

Coaching her through several swings, he helps adjust her grip and motions as the sun sets above the mountain they were hundreds of blocks beneath. They ended up covered in sweat, slowly the victories became a shared tally, the duck winning more and more of their spars.

When Baghera focused, she was dangerous. Phil just had to teach her how to utilize that attention, finding her strikes to be true with a good amount of strength behind them. Her body held more power than appeared, able to pick up weaknesses after a good amount of practice. She had the foundations of being a fantastic fighter, with some practice Phil would be concerned to face her on a battlefield.

Just as Phil lands his own blow, Baghera screeches as she loses her balance landing heavily on her knee. The crow drops his practice weapon with a clatter as she groans, saying through gritted teeth. “Fucking stones.” 

The blonde man helps her stand up, blood dripping from the scrapes against the cavern floor. Gathering together a medical kit, Baghera remains oddly silent as Phil treats her wounds. Her musical voice is the first to speak since she fell, mumbling.

“Dumbass mistake…” Cursing at herself, Phil shakes his head.

“Anyone can trip, even an experienced warrior. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Taping the bandage down, he meets her chocolate eyes as he packs up the medical kit. “The only advice I’d offer is even if you do fall, attempt one last attack, they won’t expect it.”

Holding out a hand as he stands, crow wings flared as the Angel enjoys teaching a pupil once more. “Again?”

“Again.” Decisive, they both pick back up their weapons.

Slowly the others gathered back to the base, joining in on the session learning from the best fighter they had. First it was Charlie, a rare serious expression carved deep within his handsome features as he faced down Baghera. Phil had taken a break to sit down, instructing both as they sparred.

They shared similar issues with focus, Phil thought he would have to remind them more but today they surprised him, only giving short praises or swearing when the other landed a blow. Evenly matched, they both went at it until they fell over from exhaustion, cracking voices laughing towards the cavern ceiling.

Phil’s sole teaching method was expanded when Foolish joined them, the wisdom of many, many eras guiding his movements. Depending on the day, the shark totem would come out on top when he and the crow tested their mettle. If he wasn’t so easily distracted by his companions, he could be deadly. Quite a few of their team members shared the same distracted tendencies, you know what they say of birds of a feather after all.

Cellbit and Jaiden eventually filtered in after completing their tasks, riding their horses quickly across the terrain under night’s safe embrace. A member they didn’t expect to stick around but now thoroughly enjoying his company, Carre, also came to help coach. It turned into a night full of various trials and practise, all showing noticeable improvement under all three instructor’s thorough care. The cavern was alive with ringing blows and exclamations, alive with determined energy shared between all as their proficiencies grew.

After many nights of pleading, Phil let down his final walls between his heart and this flock that had forcefully adopted one another after the sparring session. Bonded under the tribulations of death and being the underdogs of the competition, the blonde crow had come to adore this little group he had been assigned. Feeling protective of this family, he did everything he could to keep them safe.

Jaiden and Baghera cheered when he sat down beside them while they did their daily preening, allowing his own damaged feathers to be handled by another. It was extremely soothing, leaving them all dazed with happiness with such a deep instinct fulfilled. Admiring how beautiful their feathers were; Jaiden’s shades of the evening aurora borealis and Baghera’s painted the colour of liquid sunlight as he picked away damaged pieces.

As he worked around the base, he allowed his birdsong to be free, bouncing from the stone that surrounded him. Tending to the tea plants with weathered fingers, he plucks away damaged leaves and finished harvest to brew more for his group. Though he had grown more confident with his movement, he felt more comfortable sticking close to the base and simply farming more materials for his team. Plus he was often the first one awake after centuries of routine waking at dawn, preparing food was the most logical so the others could begin the global quests right away.

Reminded of the cider he heard rumours of having better benefits for battle in these early hours, he started to try and figure it out with the kettle, sugar and apples. Capturing a few bees to gather honey from, he finds a secluded part of their cave to enclose for a quick bee farm.

Building up their supplies as they go on dangerous items for the daily quests, all having the heavy thought this was for the sake of saving only some of their eggs. Some damn overseer kept taunting them through videos they had to watch on their communicators, under threat of all their eggs safeties. A new nightmare to haunt him, that red-tinged eye watching their every move as they worked away for mere percentages on a bar every day.

Aside from rare excursions with Slimecicle, Foolish and Cellbit deep within the earth for ores they could smelt, Phil settled into a routine of waking up early and preparing bulk resources for the day ahead. 

Cheat the gamе

Break my stride

You'll see me again

Like the plague

I will spread

'Cause I won't stay dead

Then, because the entity thrived on chaos and bloodshed, it announced an event unlike any other task previously. In three days time, they were going to be given an egg. Told to build a base to place it within, formidable and able to stand up to attack, they were to put safeguards in place to protect their charge while destroying others.

Though concerned about the outcome of this new quest, they all couldn’t help but laugh at the way Foolish lit up when told to build something. Immediately taking off to find where he was to lay the foundations, the rest gathered materials he might need until the moon was high in the sky above. Even then, Foolish told them all he was going to stay to continue working once he woke up. Philza, Cellbit and Slimecicle also volunteered so the shark would not be alone, the rest planning to head back to the base to bring a few more things here tomorrow.

All four sprawled across the roof of the castle of sand Foolish had already formed. The man was obsessed when it came to building, he had a true gift for making lovely structures wherever he went. The half moon above was the perfect amount of light, the dark desert making the stars shine bright. Crashing through everyone's walls, they had all bonded impossibly close in the short time they had been in purgatory together.

All four lay in a circle with their heads near one another, Phil allowed a bit more space for his wings. Significantly better now, the others speak of plans to fill the base below with even more traps while Phil thinks of Her watching above. Missing Her embrace and wise words, he misses the rare moments they could spend together while looking at the twinkling abyss above.

“What do you think about our odds of being victorious tomorrow?” Cellbit turns his head to address Phil, who gives a rueful smirk.

“That doesn’t sound like the Bolas way, of just saying fuck it, we ball with no concern whether we come out on top.” Phil chuckles, patting the ceiling of the building they lay upon. “I am proud of you all though, this base is solid and the traps you design will definitely slow their assault. For once, I feel positive about our team facing a fighting event after how much work you all have put in.”

“There is still so much more to go for design, I need to texture more.” Foolish whines, Phil rolling his eyes.

“You are the one adding detail to something we will only utilize for one day.”

“The watcher said we would get an advantage for building the best!” He argues back, all echoing laughs.

“Just admit you missed building.”

“More like I miss the island.” In a rare serious moment, Foolish’s voice is vulnerable as they look at the void above.

“Same.” Slime chips in, sitting up to rub his upper arms in a comforting gesture. “I hope Flippa is alright.”

The other three trade glances as they sit up, turning towards one another sitting with their legs crossed. Cellbit coughs, before speaking directly to the upset father.

“You know–you know that most likely is not your daughter.”

Charlie’s code-infected eye flashes bright green, numbers inlaid beneath his skin in random binary codes. Some of him was still his handsome brunette self that arrived upon this island, but slowly over the past few moons his skin gained this odd technical feature. Suspiciously around the time his supposed daughter reappeared and they began to spend many of their days together, none of the other island members exactly wanted to approach the situation so they took it at face value while remaining cautious.

Charlie is holding himself tight, Phil slides closer to wrap one wing around the grieving man and tug him close. “I know it’s hard to hear.”

“Some part of me already is aware….”

“It’s a whole other beast when someone says it aloud, right mate?”

Nodding, he moves himself closer and lays his cheek against Phil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Charlie, we all wanted it to be true.”

“It was hard to watch.” Cellbit admits, rubbing his own hands together in a nervous gesture. “There was a lot already going on though, with our own children missing. I am sure the feelings are shared, but I was willing to look past the imperfections in joy that at least one of us had our family back.”

“I hope you guys get your kids back.” Charlie says genuinely, meeting the other three parents’ gaze. “I don’t ever want to see someone I care for go through the same agony I have with burying the one I was entrusted with.”

“Oh they will give them back.” Phil’s voice gains a rasp, a heavy accent of a language long dead clinging to his tongue. “Or I will make them regret every decision they have ever made. It is not an option that our children don’t come home.”

“That’s why you are our leader!” Foolish announces, clapping his hands. “I know that look in your eyes old crow, I fully support this.”

Meeting the sharks gaze; lifetimes of memories flash forth, a significant amount relating to the server they just came from when the crow and piglin wiped an entire nation off the map. He rarely let himself give into his ancient rage, for the very soil would shake beneath his wings as he faced them down if his deadly title came to prey upon this land.

“Do you have my back tomorrow, Foolish? Even if I walk onto that battlefield and do deplorable things, altering relationships permanently to guarantee the safety of my hatchlings?”

“For the sake of those I care about, anything.” Foolish taps the emerald earring he also wore, Phil glad to have a face he knew well at his side who was aware of the heavy history the crow bore with a matching bangle hanging from the blonde's own ear. Foolish was no Technoblade, but he would do.

“While you two are off ending lives we can focus on defence.” Cellbit offers, bumping fists with Charlie. “In spite of your lessons, I cannot hold up to some of the fighters that will be roaming tomorrow, I will leave that to you two and remain on the last line before our defeat.”

Foolish pulls out his sword, pointed fangs in his mouth gleaming like the silver blade he wielded, giving a wild smile. “I think it's time we soak that sand red.”

“Agreed.”

The morning after Phil and Foolish help each other strap on their best armour, weapons sharpened with whetstones in the mists of the early dawn. Nodding once, barely a word is spoken as they work together to fight their way to the other bases. Switching between horses and running seamlessly, they become a terrifying pair during the event they now fought in, crimson splattered in their wake from opponents defeated.

Team Soulfire is announced as having lost the moment their egg goes to zero health, their members being split among the remaining teams. Foolish is glancing at his communicator, wiping sweat from his eyes as Phil caught his breath sitting down on a rock. “Badboyhalo, Tina and Niki have been sorted into our team.”

“Hopefully those back at base can delegate tasks to them.” Ignoring the pinging of their group message being spammed, Foolish sends a quick response as they both turn off the sounds once more. “We shift our attack to Green then?”

Foolish's emerald eyes glint in the midafternoon sun that is beating down on them from above, the sun providing natural highlights to his gold tinted skin. Giving a smile that exposes his serrated teeth, he nods. “It is time to go hunting.”

“So be it.”

Approaching the base, Phil peers up to see it perched high in the humid blue sky. A few members of the opposition appeared here and there, clearly scoping out the pair who stood below them. The crow ponders strategy for a moment before giving a playful expression to Foolish, tucking his bow back into its sheath between his wings and searching his glowing inventory for spare blocks.

“If you run a distraction I will do my best to sneak up there by towering up and gliding over?”

“Be loud and obnoxious? My specialty.” Rolling his shoulders, the totem lets out a shout as Phil takes a noticeable step back, pretending to leave him to deal with it.

Their enemies fell right into their tactics perfectly, all focusing on targeting the annoying warrior as the crow made his way towards the sky then drew out his paraglider. Phil cannot help but be proud of how easily he and Foolish planned this assault between only the two of them, the rest of their team focused on saving their own egg. Launching himself off the top, he tries not to ache feeling the cushion of air beneath them. 

Perching in the room containing their enemy's egg, he plans how to get across the lava flooding the area before just blocking off the source. Ignoring the recognizable cosmetics on the dull grey statue that was the source of their tournament points, his diamond axe handle slides into his palm preparing to strike. Listening to Foolish yell outside, he holds the axe tightly and swings down. The crunch of a critical hit rings through the obsidian box, winding up for another.

On edge the entire time watching the health bar drain from above his target, his companion keeping their attention on him and not the percentages warping in Team BOLAS' favour.

When it ticks to zero, the crow comes out from his bloodthirst as the statue splits in half, lava spilling forth over the rubble. Crawling out of the boiling box and standing atop, he peers down to see Foolish loudly cheering. Phil pulls out his glider and makes his way to his companions side, facing down the defeated team members that were nearby.

Holding out his hand, victors and losers congratulate each other on a job well done. Foolish brings his steed out of his inventory, Phil following suit to make their way back to where they group remained.

Deciding to spend one last night in the sandcastle, all gather around a campfire on top of the broken roof. Some parts fell clear through to the lava traps that were everywhere, a large portion of it remained surprisingly intact. Far above any mobs that may spawn, for once laughter was just as loud as the sorrow.

Over the week, Phil had grown fond of this gang of misfits. They were screwed over from the start, but in insanity unity can be formed. Especially among those this old crow now found himself within, because even at the bottom of a cavern, light can be seen. A friendly hand among those who wanted to hurt them, grounding one another when they needed to.

He could practically hear Techno's voice in his head, admonishing him for caring for more mere moments in his impossible timeline, but the avian hybrid held onto his humanity in these little snippets of their lives. Watching Cellbit and Foolish talk about what went well with today in regards to the tournament and how great their base worked. Charlie, Baghera and Jaiden were loudly singing some songs from their past, roasting marshmallows and meat over the campfire. 

Molten rock bubbled below and an ancient planet hung above, their mood surprisingly high after the chaos that was the beginning of purgatory. The crow fiddled with his braid that hung behind his left ear, covered in beads of different colours relating to friends he could no longer hold. He was going to have to start wearing another braid, this time of six pieces, he resolved to carve them the moment he returned to Quesadilla Island.

This week of hell had turned into a glimpse of insanity for them all, somehow this group around him had bonded so quickly he knew he would reflect on this time in eras to come. In disorder there is peace; there is hope in the gentle touches of a friend caring for another. There is comfort in stitching wounds and sharing stories of agony. There is freedom in admitting your deepest sins with the people who are stuck with you, accepting because they all have similar experiences.

There is home in the fellow eyes of his group, stripped bare to nothing and forced to rebuild over and over again, along the way attaching themselves closer together.

Techno would tease him with a knowing smile, at his core he knew the piglin would have done the exact same thing in Phil's shoes.

Cause I won't stay dead

'Cause I won't stay dead

The next day was more relaxed for their team, team Bolas was given a rest as the remaining teams were challenged to face one another in the daily tasks. Most of Phil's group took the day to themselves, splitting off to doing their own tasks and taking a day to recover their energy. 

All except Cellbit.

Phil caught the one he had come to rely on the most pacing in a field on the way back from a material gathering trip, the brunette glancing hastily at his communicator between circles. Phil makes sure to approach him somewhere he can see, Cellbit's anxieties cut deep into his cracked lips that he chewed. 

“What happens to the team that loses?”

Phil hated that he vocalised the question he had also come to consider, not holding anything back when he shrugged. “I can only hope that they get sent back to the island we are all trying to return to.”

“And if not?” Cellbit implored him to have some solution, some resolution for the ponderings he could not answer.

Decidedly tucking away the items he had, he drew the willing man into his arms, cradling his taller form into his strong grasp. Tucking those brown strands that looked so much like another boy he missed into the crook of his neck, Cellbit whispers against his collarbone.

“What about Roier?”

Phil could only hold him closer, sympathising with the possibility of losing the one you loved. Separated by distance and factions, the husbands had barely the chance to see one another other than from opposing sides of battle. The crow could only imagine being in his shoes, wishing he could take the worries away from this precious member of his team who he treasured for many reasons. 

Thinking of his own skull-wearing platonic partner with a bright personality and endearing attitude, his heart remembering the betrayal that cut his heart in half seeing Missa on another team. They held onto each other through hell and high water, floundering without that support completely out of their element. He was the other half of Phil's parenting unit. To potentially lose that?

Everyone had faced breaking important relationships due to their children's lives hanging in danger, he wondered just how many would come out intact. If they would come out intact.

“I wish I could give you an answer and be confident about it.”

“I always appreciate your honesty.”

Keeping away from the rest, the pair of men decide to go caving for materials they might need, giving them time alone to be truly vulnerable with each other. Relying on one another so they could face the rest of Team Bolas united, Phil went to bed thinking that he had successfully calmed Cellbit's nerves.

Until in the early hours of the morning he is awoken by Cellbit's pained sobs, an upset Foolish explaining quietly that in the last few moments of the daily quests Team Soulfire stole the win. Tubbo had been undermined from his order for a peaceful even percentage by two of his team members handing in global quests within moments of closing time.

Cellbit rushed the things needed to Roier for his husband to hand in but he was too late. Early enough to catch his husband's body as the clock ticked past midnight, dissolving into purple particles before everyone's eyes who also tried to help Green win. Foolish, Charlie and Baghera managed to drag him home, giving Phil pleading eyes to help them deal with the brunette.

For the first time in many eras, he did what he and his soldiers used to do when they mourned for a fellow member hurting. Moving their sleeping bags close, they all slept within hands-reach of one another. Phil pulls a sobbing Cellbit into his arms when his nightmares awaken him as dawn paints the horizon, Foolish joining with a sleepy grunt.

For the first time in a week instead of getting up to prepare for the day ahead, Phil rolled over and went back to sleep after Cellbit clings onto Foolish. Emotionally drained and physically sore, the rest of his team slumbered until the collective dinging of their communicators awoke them.

“We have been summoned to an Assembly at sunhigh?” Baghera asks reading off the bright screen, her voice scratchy as she sits up. Pushing her tangled blonde hair back, Foolish holds the shaking Cellbit still close as everyone absorbs the news.

Phil groans, really not wanting to see everyone else. He didn't want to look Toby in the eyes while the sorrow of his teammate mourning his love dragged blonde’s shoulders to the earth, feeling his pain as the crow’s own. 

“We should get going.” Speaking the words they all dreaded, four of them work their way into a presentable status.

The previous week had taken a lot out of their team, most choosing to stay home and sleep a bit more. Phil knew he had to go as the leader, the other three volunteered as they didn't want him to go alone. Cellbit is more withdrawn now than anything, keeping visible distance as they travel to the coordinates provided.

A startling sight greets them as they walk into the clean building, all bone-white marble and smooth stone with three sets of different coloured chairs face one another. The fallen team is in the middle colour, all unconscious and draped across their seats. Phil listens to Cellbit take his first deep breath of the day, spotting Roier's chest still rising, the crow himself glad to see Fit and Forever still alive.

He missed the fun banter he had with them, a similar level of flirting and teasing while giving each other the utmost respect.

Perching on the edge of the throne surrounded in red blocks, Tubbo sits across from him on a royal blue platform. A blank faced federation worked walks to both leaders handing them three dice each, explaining the rules of the event. As he does Green team slowly comes awake, unable to leave their seats yet due to invisible barriers.

They were to roll all three dice, total them, and whoever got the highest number would pick first. Looking across the three people at his back, noticing Cellbit's eyes still hadn't left Roier, the blonde crow knows his first choice.

Gesturing them to come forth, both roll their dice. The first round goes to a tie, the worker gesturing to them to only pick up one die then roll once more. Tubbo wins, looking across his team then the defeated Green members.

“Fit?” Tubbo regards the muscled man, standing proud when he was addressed.

Phil tried to not feel it, watching him give a good natured shrug. “I will go where asked.”

“Yeah, I want you at my side.” Tubbo nods.

Taking one more glance at his team, he looks directly at the brunette he wants. “Roier.”

Cellbit takes off like a shot, launching himself from his seat as Roier makes his way towards his husband. Capturing one another in an embrace, Phil gives them a happy smile before turning back to Tubbo to await his next pick.

“Forever.” The sun-kissed brunette dashes Phil's hopes, before his logic wins out seeing who he wants is still available.

“You guys know who I want?” Phil addresses his team, who give an easy ‘yes’.

Hopping off the chair, he marches directly up to the man who backstabbed him on the first day he was here. Glancing into his jade eyes, he holds out his hand. “Etoiles?”

“One thousand percent yes my friend. My sword is yours and my shield will protect you.” Ever the dramatic, Etoiles declares this before pulling the crow close and dropping his voice. “I apologise friend.”

Shaking his head, Phil has put it behind him already. Anytime their children's lives were in the balance, questionable things were not off the table. “I will not speak of it past this day.”

After all is said and done; they end up with Roier, Etoiles, Mouse, Antoine, Maxo and Rubis. Leading them back to their now third base, the other two had been discovered and abandoned in the previous days, they find spots for their new team members. Phil initially had a flash of worry about introducing new people to the dynamic that had been forged in helplessness and insanity, the people he picked fit in perfectly.

All he had to do was see Cellbit and Roier affectionately arguing about a materials excursion, both looking more alive now that they were together, and his concern burned away. Everyone had immediately put on the gas masks their team was known for, already offering their help to whatever was needed.

Foolish, Jaiden and Baghera had instantly taken Mouse under their care, Etoiles already taken off to do his personal tasks. Not that Philza was surprised, that man was constantly grinding for better gear. Now he swore they would all be in diamond if he had anything to say about it, borrowing their fortune pickaxe and disappearing into the depths below their current base.

The rest of their new team found a place, others joining in on farming or task completion. Phil had returned to brewing cider for the days to come, his ever paranoid mind now wondering what was still left in this hellish event. 

Flaunting danger like your head is empty

But I've watched and learned

You look like you never did expect me

As if tides don't turn

I've been known to win out with my patience

The next morning, Phil was up at his usual time and surprisingly joined by Cellbit, yawning as he picked the plants the crow had carefully cultivated. Lighting a campfire under the kettle, he fills it with water waiting to see if Cellbit would speak first.

He wouldn't approach if it wasn't important, the man would rather be back cuddling his husband for the first time in far too long. But the ageless blonde observed the line cut deep across his brow, clearly lost in thought for a good while since his eyes blinked open this morn.

Whistling away, he measures out sugar and pours it into the boiling water. Heating eggs and bacon too, he begins to make breakfast for his team on the fire he lit next to the kettle. Since coming to purgatory he had been immersed in cooking, finding the best benefits for his family he had been assigned and now would go to war for. Plus it made him think of his son Chayanne, and praying that at the end of all this he would see him, Tallulah and the rest of the eggs safe and sound.

After several moments pass, Cellbit pauses his task, his dark eyes flashing as he meets the crow's sky blue. “I have heard from Tubbo.”

Phil tilts his head, taking a step back. “Oh?”

“A few days ago I told him that if he ever wanted to talk, he could put on the gas mask and I could trust his word when I did.” Cellbit perks up a bit when given something other than his worry to think about. “It was shortly after his team went against his orders, he's a smart kid surrounded by stubborn people. I understand him. He also has information about our missing children–”

Cellbit trails off after the blonde gasps, then Phil agrees. “Let's go meet up with him.”

“You don't think it's a trap?”

“Toby wouldn't do that.” Phil would bet his soul on that fact, Tubbo was a loyal and honourable friend. “Though against us, he wouldn't break a truce.”

After he finishes making everyone's meals, they let Foolish know who is the next one awake where they were going. Planning to meet at the global rendezvous point, both men pull on their gas masks the moment they step outside. Releasing their horses from the cages within their inventories at their fingertips, they both expertly navigate the terrain to arrive at the agreed meeting point.

Tubbo is tapping his foot when they arrive, gas mask pulled low over his face. Wearing no armor and holding no weapon, Phil instantly put his own away, Cellbit hesitating a moment for following his leader's actions.

“Truce?” Phil offers, Tubbo instantly nodding.

“Swear down, I won't hurt you this day.” Tubbo vows, looking to Cellbit. “I'd promise that to the Goddess Herself.”

At that the older brunette drops his guard, all facing one another with a more relaxed stance after putting away their steeds. Tubbo is shuffling from foot to foot before Cellbit starts the conversation.

“So, are you petitioning to join us?”

Shaking his head, wild hair bouncing, he gives a small smile. “I still have hope for my team, even after everything that has happened.”

“They betrayed you Tubbo.” Wondering just how many times Tubbo would be the victim of his own trust, Phil's heart cries to protect the boy.

“I know, but we had a long discussion about it all and now see eye to eye on most things. I didn't call you there for that though.” Motioning to follow him, he leads the two men to the headquarters and up the stairs to a glowing white portal that certainly hadn't been there in the days prior. “This appeared today and if you step through, you will see what's between you and the video I have now seen in regards to the chicks you are missing.”

“You first.” Cellbit eyes it suspiciously.

Shrugging, Tubbo falls in backwards with more of that sass in his expression that Phil was used too. Good, made him less concerned about the boy's mental state.

Stepping through, a weight he hadn't felt in far too long dragged his stance back straight as a familiar aura surrounds him, shoulders lining above his hips. Phil freezes, Tubbo also looking at him with an awed expression with his own wings of honey-gold. Taking a deep breath, he takes a step further away from the portal, ignoring for now that he was in the dimension his wife resided in as he spreads his grand wingspan now back to its former glory with a shocked expression.

Curling them close around himself, he admires the night sky feathers shining iridescent in the eerie light against the endstone. Cellbit gasps as he emerges behind, Phil turning to see his team member with new limbs of his own. Cloud white near their base and crimson on their tips as if stained by blood, Phil gives him a proud smile with his own moving back in their normal place.

“Holy shit.” Cellbit breathes out, Phil coming closer to inspect like a proud father.

“Such gorgeous colouring.” Cellbit flares them out, giving a few test movements. “Ever flown before, mate?”

He shakes his head, looking nervously into the black abyss before Tubbo takes off confidently, flying to the next part of their obstacle course.

“Now ideally, we would be starting with smaller distances than this but I have taught many folk. You will be fine.” He pats Cellbit's shoulder confidently.

Talking him through the basics, they practice in the area they started in. A dry lift off was harder anyways, giving him more experience before he flew over the void. There was no wind to be found in this dimension anyways, requiring strong strokes to gain any sort of momentum.

Cellbit was a quick learner, replicating the advice Phil gave perfectly until they both stood on the edge of the first jump, requiring them to glide through a series of obstacles to a supposed room that had information about their children. They traded a look full of excitement, Phil having full confidence the smart man would make it.

The crow took a bit longer to arrive at their intended destination than intended after they leaped, flying high towards the stars and whispering confessions of love in hope that She hears. Mumbling how he misses Her and so many others, and manifests he will do well by those who entrusted their lives to him.

Landing next to Tubbo they wait for Cellbit in the final room, a replica of the space where one would battle with a dragon in most worlds. A single button waits in the middle, Tubbo gesturing for them to watch it.

Phil presses it, a video loading on the far wall that he and Cellbit study intently. In black and white, crackling stream they watch as all their eggs receive a book. Chayanne, his little warrior, gathers the rest of the eggs together and leads them away from their established area. Pomme takes the rear guard, all looking cautiously around as they travel. It cuts out mid journey, leaving Phil desperately hoping there was more and hitting the button again.

The same piece of media repeats and they both curse, looking back to the boy who brought them here. Devolving into a long discussion about who might be the cursed team, something the ruling entity teased over their heads but not all of them were convinced was true. Tubbo was on the side that it was, lining up evidence with ease laying it all on the table.

Cellbit asked a lot of questions to Tubbo, more skeptical about it all. They stayed within the dimension that called Phil home for quite a while, loud with discussion. The crow was quieter than the others, formulating his own theories internally while mindlessly preening his now healthy feathers.

Looking at Cellbit and Tubbo who also had the appendages and admiring their individual traits, the honey gold suited the boy who was bright like the sun and crimson for the man whose past was soaked with blood.

They were interrupted by a ding of their communicators; Foolish asking them to come back to their base as they were needed. Deciding to discuss the rest at a later time, they fly back to the main portal and take a moment before joining the other dimension.

“You have a place with us, Toby.” Phil tells the boy, keeping their gazes connected.

“I appreciate the offer, Philza, but I cannot abandon my team.” Tubbo is decisive, immovable in his choices as he always had been.

“Loyal to the end.” He tried to hide the bitterness from his voice, giving him a look full of concern. “Keep safe, mate.”

“I will, you too.”

Splitting up, Tubbo goes first and then Cellbit, Phil waiting for them both to leave before looking out over the void. “I hope to see you soon, love.”

Stepping through, he braces for his wings to go back to their destroyed state, waiting for that horrifying feeling of being unbalanced in a brutal world. A weakness to exploit.

Instead when his feet touched the floor his wings stayed intact. Tubbo had already taken off to return home leaving only Cellbit to witness the event, the crow very confused as he inspected his limbs.

“Holy shit man…” Cellbit reaches out to run his hand down the silky feathers, Phil's mouth still open in shock.

He spreads them out and lets himself feel the cushion of air beneath, rising a touch off the floor before settling back down. A wicked smile crosses his face thinking about just how dangerous he had now become back to his former Angel perfection, turning back to nod towards the dimension they just left.

“Thank you beloved.” Now recognising She was the presence he felt at the beginning, his wife must have hastened the healing of his beautiful wings. Looking at Cellbit whose eyes are wide with awe, he tucks them back close to his back and wraps his cloak around them. “Let's keep that between you and I for now, I don't want to reveal this until we have too.”

“What an advantage we just gained.”

There's no cure for fear

You must think it's your imagination

'Cause the devil's here

Risen from bone as the spirits come home

When I awake with a message to send

The next few sunrises to sunsets are spent preparing for the big event that had been hinted at to finish off their weeks spent here. Sharpening weapons and fixing armour best they could with limited resources they had in reserves, preparing backup chests with items for when they were slain.

Phil stood at the entrance of their spawn, waiting for the timer to count down observing the field of battle with eras of strategy all fighting for the forefront of his mind. Finding the places they could get caught up in, good points to hold and where all the flag pedestals  were located, he absorbed it as he let himself fall into a mindset that was like coming home. Planning a battle to emerge victorious, the Angel of Death would be upon the field today much to the detriment of the other individuals. 

In the previous days they had been tossed into another dimension but this time for jumping parkour across blocks of nether and liquid fire to watch the other half of the children running away video. Leaving the crow with more questions than answers, their search for the eggs had been put on hold for this capture-the-flag event.

Throwing himself into distractions; they had done even more training in fighting with the members of team Bolas who were less confident in their skills. Phil could work himself into a spiral if he is immediately unable to find results, the coaching being a perfection separation of thoughts for him.

“Philza?” Baghera drew his mind back to the present, turning to face the girl with wings the same shades as buttercups. “Any suggestions for today?”

“Don’t hold back.” Phil’s motivation had shifted more these days, desperation thinking of his sweet hatchlings they competed to learn more about their location.

“If they win, we sit at a tie.” Charlie points out, Philza pausing his call for blood. “We could force some hands by letting them win this one.”

“We will try our best, and whatever happens happens.” The crow replies, looking round at the family who had grown impossibly close in the mere two weeks they were together. “I am so proud of you all, no matter the outcome of today, know that I am always in your corner going forward. Even when we are back on Quesadilla Island, you say the word and I will be there with my weapons ready.”

“I gotta admit, I was hesitant coming in.” Surprised by who said it, they all turn to where Foolish is running a whetstone along his axe blade, lightening the mood by giving a smile afterwards. “But I agree with Phil, you need the world burnt? I’ll get a flint and steel.”

“I love you all, I do. I thought we were shit out of luck when I saw our lineup but we won the first week and are somehow coming out on top in situations that we shouldn’t.” Baghera goes to Jaiden’s side and pulls her close, both giggling. “Though this is literally labelled purgatory, some of the most fun I have had in moons has been in the presence of everyone here.”

“I trust you all and your choices.” It meant a lot coming from the crow, all stood a bit taller the moment the words passed his lips. “Now. Let's be unhinged and chaotic and do your best.”

“For BOLAS!” Cellbit calls out, the building echoing with all their cheers.

And that, they did. They fought their damn hearts out. Philza was so proud of his family watching their scores climb the board. The Angel of Death enjoyed watching his battalion slaughter a great many of their opponents, keeping up with the other teams spraying the battlefield crimson.

They had all improved a great deal under his tutelage, holding their own with most of the enemies they faced. Each time they died he saw them emerge from spawn with the same vigour, determined to see it through.

The crow was pleased watching their opponents learn to fear them, he relished in watching those he faced cower when his healed wings flared wide. Taking to the skies, he feels the mask of death settle across his brow falling into a persona from centuries of experience. 

Wielding his preferred weapon, a bow, he uses his flying to his advantage to cripple his prey before slaying them with a sword. Each became another notch on the wood of his weapon, something to recount to his team later. Nothing more than a tick to explain, more blood to wipe from his blade before moving on.

A relentless few hours later, in spite of their best efforts, they end up losing. Phil looks up at the sky where the voice speaks from, announcing their enemy as the victor. Giving a rueful smile, he chuckles.

“A tie huh? I wonder what consequences that will bring.” Sheathing his sword, he turns to where the others wait.

Go ahead

Bury Me

I will not stay dead

Hold me down

Take my breath

I will thrive instead

The only thought that crossed the crows mind was he hoped to Her above the final event was not going to be a one on one between the remaining leaders. His intuition kept drawing the conclusion ahead of time, ignoring the fact it was usually right as they prepared for the day ahead.

Looking over his team, he reflects on the past two weeks.

Baghera and Jaiden were packing up their bed rolls, both had come leaps and bounds in their battle prowess and had only grown closer together. Slimecicle and Foolish tended to the crops, taking the last harvest to add to the tea Cellbit was brewing. Etoiles and Roier were deep in conversation about yesterday’s events and what could have gone better. Phil committed the cavern that had become their home to memory, doubting he would ever see this place again. Oddly bittersweet, it had protected his family during the worst few weeks he had in the past several moons but bonds had been forged deep within these stone walls.

At the start of it all, he dreaded their positioning in the scores but looked forward to the hilarity that would ensue. Now he saw the strengths in them all even as he dried their tears, opening up about their weaknesses while holding one another up during storms. They were a family, through thick and thin, forced together by circumstance but now they would choose to be a group if they had to face it all over again.

Travelling as a flock, they swarm towards the coordinates they were given to find a wide open coliseum. Heart sinking as they grew closer, Phil gave a nod to his team and handed his horse off to Foolish, launching himself from the saddle with his healed wings. Surveying the space, he follows his group as they walk through the main gates eyeing the others gathered cautiously.

Slowing his descent, he lands before a startled Toby whose eyes remain wide capturing the image of the Angel come to haunt his vision once more. Tucking his crow-feather wings back in close after a single shake, he holds out his hand.

“Good job getting to this point, mate.” After a few tense moments Tubbo grasps the offered olive branch, giving the smallest smile. “Any idea what they are going to have us do?”

“No idea.” Tubbo was still on high alert, keeping an open gaze as he peers around shaking Phil’s hand. Releasing it, he tilts his head to an open door off to their left. “I lied, I have some ideas but I want to see your reaction before I jump to conclusions.”

Nodding quickly, he sees his team start to speak with the others and follows the sun-kissed brunette into the preparation room that sinks his heart through the ground below. Diamond weapons; blades and blunt alike hung from hooks drilled into the stone with a full set of gleaming armour on each wall.

“Oh Goddess…” Phil trails off, only seeing the two.

“I think they intend to pit us against one another.” Tubbo’s blue-green seashell orbs flicker in the lantern light, already calculating.

Phil truly wasn’t sure who would come out on top at that exact moment. He had years of experience, but Tubbo was clever and quick. Each time they had sparred it came down to the last few moments, a trick one of them pulled out to end up at the wrong end of their practice weapon above a vulnerable piece of flesh.

“Toby?” The smaller man looks up at the blonde crow, waiting for him to speak. “No tricks right?”

“Now whatsoever bossman, I swear it.”

“Leaders to the field in five minutes for three rounds of tie-breaking combat.” The loudspeaker announced, Phil making a surprised squawk at the suddenness of the audio intrusion and brushing over it with another question to the teen.

“Lava and water buckets allowed?”

“Why not.”

Tubbo glances with apprehension as Phil eyes up the bow. “Should I grab one?”

Phil considers it before shaking his head. head, picking up the axe instead. “It would go on for too long if we did mate, let’s make this quick.”

Helping one another strap on the armour that was left for them, Phil wonders how this will all turn out. The atmosphere of the room became heavier as the nerves twisted into more impossible tangles, before Tubbo says.

“Hey man. no hard feelings right? No matter what happens?” He hated how tentative the teen sounded, reaching down to squeeze his shoulder.

“No hard feelings if you win, I swear.” He finishes buckling the chestplate and takes a step back, twirling Tubbo to face him. 

“At the end of the day, we are in an impossible situation.” Tubbo agrees, helping slide the gauntlet on Phil’s right forearm. “We have no choice, we don’t know what could happen if we don’t fight.”

“Yes, exactly. Regardless of what happens I won’t hold it against you if you win, and you won’t hold it against me if I win. At the end of the day, they want us to fight so fuck it we do but either way you and I both want the chicks to survive.”

Tubbo turns his face back up to the blonde’s, giving the first real smile he had seen from the boy. “Honestly, we are both looking out for the same two children.”

Phil stops for a moment, searching his eyes for any dishonesty and only finding genuine care. “You mean it?”

“They are my godchildren!” Tubbo insists. “Since this is the start, that has been my whole reason to keep fighting for a chance to win. That’s always been my priority.”

“I wasn’t sure you remembered after everything…”

“Phil, my loyalty runs to bedrock and beyond for my family.”

“King, thank you for reminding me.” His respectful nod is seen by Cellbit as he enters, waiting to get Tubbo’s consent before coming forward holding out his sword hilt first.

“I want you to carry my blade in this fight.” Cellbit waits for him to grab the well crafted sword, the brunette bowing his head quickly with the single white hair falling in front of his face as he says. “For Richas, win this.”

Watching him leave, Phil remembers how it feels for Tubbo at this exact second. His children on Quesadilla were absolutely delightful, but BOLAS had managed to carve their own spaces in his eternal ancient heart earning the crow’s devotion. Cellbit didn’t give him an opportunity to thank him, touched by his thoughtful gesture and decided right then and there to do so.

More at ease with an axe after years of brawling with Technoblade, it would be a slight deviation from his usual choices but why the fuck not. Though they were leaving the chaotic team of BOLAS behind on this island, a connection would always tie them together no matter the distance and if he could carry a piece of his current family with him he would. A blade given between trusted brothers-in-arms was a high honour he would not take lightly, he would make good use of this tool.

“One minute warning.”

He asks the Goddess to protect them as they take one last look at each other. “Ready?”

“No.”Tubbo laughs, holding up a shaking hand before shrugging. “But fuck it, let’s go.”

“For the children.” Phil finishes, leading the way back onto the smooth marble.

Checking around the environment, he makes mental notes of the hazards before saying one last thing to Tubbo. “Do your best and I swear I will remain on the ground this whole fight, no tricks.”

“You too, good luck.” Tubbo walks to the far end of the open area, Phil taking his time to arrive seeing the time ticking down projected in the sky.

A lava pit nearby provided a decent advantage if he could maneuver them in his favour, fights were unpredictable in a lot of cases especially in one on one combat. Resolving it as a last resort, though Tubbo would respawn, the crow still felt guilty thinking of the teen with lava scars already having to go through the same trauma again.

Tossing one last glance to his cheering family, his spirits feel bolstered seeing their enthusiasm. Whatever happened at the end of this fight he would emerge victorious finding such a wide range of people to rely on once they got back to their home island.

A countdown sounds above the arena as the clock reaches ten seconds, Phil sliding his foot back into a balanced stance. Tubbo is holding a sword so the blonde matches his decision, grasping the worn grip tight beneath his calloused palm. Allowing survival to rein in his instincts, his mind tuning out everything except the objective and his environment, turning the sword over to find the best position until it beeped to zero.

Tubbo goes for the first swing, Phil easily catching it on his diamond shield and following the boy’s strike with one of his own. 

Distracted memories leaked through the cracks of fortifications his thoughts attempted to hold back, the crow always sentimental to a fault, thinking of sparring with this boy in a world far away over thick snow under the boughs of great pine trees. Instead of the determined expression he currently wore, those sessions were filled with laughter, Techno helping train Tommy and Ranboo while Phil instructed Tubbo. 

In the time his mind wandered Tubbo manages to extract his sword and slice a deep cut into Phil’s side, mostly protected by the smallest amount of armour the blonde chastises himself and manages to fall back. Ignoring the blood spreading across his robes he does a quick switch to his axe.

Tubbo had more experience in combat with a shield, he had to break that fortification to come out on top of this. Holstering the sword between his shoulder blades, the familiar wooden handle of an axe fell into his palm with a welcoming touch after reaching into his golden inventory mid-stride, swinging it overhand to crack heavily through Tubbo’s protection after the blonde rushed him. 

The teen clearly didn’t account for just how heavily Phil would swing, the shield nearly snapped in half as Phil wrenched his tool of choice free. Eyes wide, Tubbo takes a few quick steps back and rushes away, Phil in pursuit as they cross the arena.

Regretting his next actions already, Tubbo runs towards the lava pit as he cycles through his inventory for anything to block the Angel of Death’s attacks. Finding nothing he goes to leap across the bubbling molten rock and Phil takes a chance. Lining up, he throws the axe to hit Tubbo in the middle of his back. With a rush of air after a cut off scream, the crow watches steam escape his corpse as it bubbles before disappearing beneath the harsh orange surface.

Hearing the ding from his communicator notifying the world of a respawn, he turns to see Tubbo across the field. A chest appears beside the pit, Phil making a show of taking a step back for Tubbo to come retrieve his items.

The blonde hated seeing how defeated the teen already looked, the pressure was getting to them both but Tubbo was taking it way worse. After getting everything back to where it needed to be, they drink another health potion to be in top condition before the next round. 

As they are announcing the winner for match one Phil was already sprinting across the field after Tubbo announced he was ready. The crow had gone back to his sword, losing the axe to the lava and not bothering to retrieve it from the chest; he wanted to finish this off with the gift his family gave him.

Both had abandoned their shields, Tubbo’s unrepairable at the moment they both discarded the tool for the sake of sportsmanship. He caught the gleaming blue blade of Phil’s sword on his own, shoving him back, the crow allowing the moment to dodge the swing the sun-kissed blonde did in quick succession from the forceful move.

Tubbo became more aggressive compared to their earlier encounter, Phil finding himself to be the one to take a step back to take a health potion and managing to avoid being struck through quick footwork.

Sweat is pouring down both their faces as they fight on an equal skill level, the only emotion he allows himself to feel is pride seeing the dangerous fighter this teen had become. Unfortunately for him though, Phil had the endurance to match his aeons of life and just had to parry until his attacks grew weaker.

Spotting an opening after a particularly poor attempt to strike Phil’s arm, he follows the teen’s movement back and buries his into Tubbo’s chest, accompanied by the horrible snapping of ribs and bright red crimson falling down onto Phil’s hands. More children’s blood to think of later, seeing the blankness is Tubbo’s eyes and hating the fact he had to die and respawn. The crow had just added two more patches of scars to this teen’s body, when would it all stop?

They had been through so much this half moon; Phil cycling from helplessness to happiness to despair to hope. Now, all he could hold was the guilt deep within his chest being the reason Tubbo would carry physical scars of their time here at his own hand. She could only do so much between respawns, their true healing happening during their time travelling to whatever world lay after this one.

After being hoisted onto his cheering teammates shoulders, they celebrated their victory until that terrible voice announced there was a traitor among them who knew all their secrets. Declaring they couldn’t have their eggs back yet, Etoiles drags it out of Quackity, rather ElQuackity, that it is he who has been the spy on the inside.

Choosing to go back to their global spawn followed by Fit, Tubbo and a few others to search for the whereabouts of the betrayer after he disappears before their eyes, Phil found himself comforting the young teen quite a bit. Beating himself up over the outcome of the battles, their group speaks of Tubbo’s strengths between their worries about what was coming next. Running down a long tunnel they found beneath the central structure and dealing with a spinning wheel, everyone finds their children trapped behind invisible barriers.

The screams Phil was surrounded by shattered his ears would be ones that would haunt his night terrors; relief and terror mixed together in a symphony of unending grief. Seeing his children for the first time in moons the crow falls to his knees, wanting to just hold them tight and never let go. Threatened by this tall bastard after their fellow islander pulls out a detonator from somewhere, an earthquake shatters the cavern above them as blocks rain from the sky. 

Fit and Phil trade looks with tear-stained cheeks and nod, watching rocks fall in the spots of their precious hatchlings who have vanished and hanging onto the last sign he saw his daughter write, speaking about them being okay, the pair of anarchists herd people outside once more. Rushing to the fountain outside the global spawn he follows Tubbo through the portal after meteors appear high above them in the sky, their communicators announcing another disaster to chase them off Egg Island.

Cheat the game

Break my stride

You'll see me again

Chapter Text

Like the plague

I will spread

'Cause I won't stay dead

'Cause I won't stay dead

“Come here.”

Phil commands the small brunette with sun-kissed tresses, golden goggles holding most of it from his blue-green eyes, wide and shining beneath the meteorites streaking the crimson skies above. Tubbo shakes his head as one of the flaming rocks hits the ground mere blocks from his feet, Phil making the decision for them both and packing his weapons away into his glowing inventory.

Crossing the scorched grass he sweeps the small man into his arms, tucking his head against the crook of his neck flaring his wings wide.

Flames danced against the iridescent feathers, finally healed after the half a moon away from the cursed island that kept him shorn. He revels in how it felt yesterday to sweep across the battlefield, blade singing within his hands as blood splattered the sand below. 

Boiling wind ruffling the feathers on the limbs used to bring death to those who crossed him, they would also be the reason they would survive.

Running towards the ocean he launches himself into the air with a powerful movement, the cushions of air carry him and his precious cargo upwards, muscles long dormant engaging as he thrusts them downwards. Tubbo clings closer, wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck. The wind screamed past his ears, Phil desperately ignoring the embers flicking painfully onto his grand wings as he rushed them towards the beacon shining on the horizon.

Glancing down, he finds Tubbo holding his eyes tightly closed, lava scars melting some of the skin across his brow and down his cheeks. Far too similar to wounds from servers past, when the small boy was killed by a close-range firework explosion. Phil wants to shudder, thinking back over the two weeks of torment they were now fleeing from and how many more scars they all held, both internal and external.

One of his biggest regrets was ending up on opposite sides from Tubbo again, someone he had wronged on that previous world that was one of the heaviest stones in the bag of guilt dragging him down. 

On that battlefield mere hours ago he had slain the young man twice, Tubbo’s hands trembling clutching the sword hilt as he faced down the crow. Remembering his crimson blood coating Phil’s weathered grasp as he regretted yet another youth’s death by his hands, ones stained with thousands of lives.

A larger piece of stone thumped off his right wing, the limb trying to flinch away and nearly making them fall before Phil managed to right himself. Old instincts roared to life as his wings carried him away from danger, despite their weakening state. It had been far too long since he had such an exercise, let alone carrying two people. Tubbo whimpered when the turbulence hit, grasping tighter around the crow’s chest that was clamped like a vise.

He had one objective for them both. Survival.

Another singing piece of debris flicks into his night-sky feathers, burning down to the skin, Phil gritting his teeth and hissing. He worried about just how long he could keep aloft if the meteors kept burning him, their escape being at the cost of his ability to fly once more.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it now, he had to live to feel that emotion after all.

The waypoint grows closer in the distance, Phil’s chest heaving at the excursion of flying while his limbs flamed away in the sky filled with fire. The flight was too loud for any words to be exchanged, the crow occasionally checking on the boy when he could afford to look away from the direction he raced towards.

He was so young to have faced so much. A similar story to Tubbo’s past life on a server filled with cruelty and power games, responsibility being thrust upon those far too young, the clothes of adults swathed around still growing bones.

Same story as this desolate land, a group of islands named Purgatory ran by a sadistic figure with one noticeable feature, a single glowing red eye. Tubbo had been the elected leader of the team opposite to Phil’s own, it hurt him deeply to face someone he had already wronged with their lives once again on the line.

Holding him closer, he puts everything he has in chanting ‘just a little longer’ with every beat of his scorching wings, the air around only intensifying as they eat away his beautiful plumage leading to clumsier flight. It felt like he was flying through lava itself, the sky his birthright now being the demise of his mobility.

How ironic, for one born from the sky to also be punished by it while escaping certain doom.

The boat appeared in the crow’s blurry vision as the agony crept forth, ocean slapping against the hull as the clouds above promised hellfire. He had pushed them just too far, he realises as he suddenly loses his control, wings folding shut as they finally give out on the avian. Plunging towards the ocean he wraps them tightly around his torso and Tubbo, hopefully cushioning them from the damage as he rolls so Tubbo is closer to the sky.

Crashing against the surface all the air rushes from his aching lungs, smoke and debris coating the inner surface as if he had swallowed glass. Coughing and choking on the sea water his wings get heavier as water swamps them, dragging them towards its cold embrace. Phil is just about to give up on struggling for the surface when a hand reaches from above and hauls both him and Tubbo onto the deck.

Hacking and gasping, seawater coats the ground beneath them as agony bites away at the shock keeping him in blissful lucidity. Despite already being destroyed, low moans turning into screams claw forth as the salt bites away at the burn wound puckered deep within his wings.

Closing his eyes, he hears footsteps rush towards him while he focuses on staying present, nearly passing out as the agony overcomes him in a wave. A set of strong hands help him into a seated position, his wretched wings dragging across the deck with another wash of pain, another forces a health potion between his cracking lips, the soothing magic of healing washing down his torso.

After two or three glass bottles break against the deck, empty of their contents attempting to stabilize the crow hybrid, Tubbo and Fit do their best to keep him grounded when Phil finally believes he won’t pass out.

“Tubbo, I have to go save at least one more.” Fit urges, Phil cracking his eyes open enough to see his friend’s genius on full display once more.

Cloud-white planes of taunt material are pulled between silver boning, mechanical wings on full display against the raging sky. The bald man’s face was covered with ash streaked through by rain, determination carved deep within his features, the many scars he was coated in did nothing to detract from his classically handsome appearance. 

“Fit, it isn’t safe!” Tubbo begs, leaving Phil propped against the wall of the ship they gathered upon.

“I have to try.” Fit refused to amend his quest, Phil knew it was useless to argue with the stubborn bastard.

“Come back to us, mate, and thank you.” He coughs out, Fit nodding once before he takes off towards the far off shore with flaps of his handmade wings.

Tubbo opens his mouth to argue with the collapsed crow before the shout of a panicked voice draws both their attention. Phil painfully pulls himself upright, wincing and letting out painful groans as he attempts to bring his wings close to his spine where they rest. Folding healing skin tore open some of the potion-healed burns, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care as another angry yell sounds.

Tubbo and Phil rush to the back of the boat to find Cellbit holding his husband Roier close, powerful strokes bringing them to the ship where it was anchored. Tubbo rushes to meet the brunette man, helping him bring aboard an injured Roier. His usual smirk is replaced with a pained scowl, Phil spotting the large burn peeling away a good majority of his torso.

Tubbo spots it at the same time, reaching into his inventory for more healing as Phil goes to help Cellbit before stopping where he stood clutching the rail.

Cellbit wasn’t making any attempt to climb aboard, in fact he gave a single nod and made a definitive turn back towards shore.

Philza screams his name, not wanting someone he had grown quite fond of leaving his grasp again. Separated by distance and soon to be leagues of blocks, the blonde can only watch in horror as Cellbit doesn’t turn around.

“Gatinho…” Roier croaks out weakly, Tubbo looking to Phil who can only shake his head slowly, watching his teammate swim back.

The blonde’s knees give way, hitting the deck with a thud and a jarring pain that jolts through his bones as his wings open to balance him before they also collapse onto the cold metal below.

“Why?” Phil asks softly, Roier answering quickly through pained gasps as Tubbo draws out yet another potion.

“The only thing he told me is he won’t leave Richas.”

Phil’s eyes follow him back to where the sea meets the island, seeing three other figures that shatter his breaking heart. Foolish helps Cellbit stand and walk to where Baghera and Jaiden stand, hand in hand. All four give shaky salutes before Foolish catches Cellbit as he throws himself into the totem’s arms, Baghera and Jaiden only moving closer together as they wave.

His family. 

It was the only thought on the old crow’s mind, two weeks ago when they were grouped up Phil thought they were doomed. From day one they collectively lost their minds but somehow in the depths of insanity, they bonded. Through the hard times it was they who stood the strongest, relying on each other instantly. Trauma, death, bloodshed and all, Team Bolas had one another’s backs without question.

Now most of them stood on the shore they had all fought to leave, because they refused to leave their eggs again. Despite Phil being well aware that if he attempted to join such a heroic choice he would most likely perish from drowning far before he could be at their side, the idea still held merit. He respected it, part of him still remained beside them. A piece to be shorn off his exhausted soul, only so many portions the immortal crow had left as the number dwindled every world he journeyed through.

They were bonded through tribulations and horrors Phil never wanted to relive, he trusted every single one of them with his life. Now, he was just supposed to watch them choose to submit to more torture for the mere chance their children survived the earthquakes and natural disasters that chased them from that cursed island.

If there was even the tiniest spark of hope, this was the group he believed could bring them home.

Taking one last look at the four standing by the shore, his musing is interrupted by Fit nearly crashing into the boat. Holding a screaming Bagi, Phil helped steady the landing pair as Tubbo attended to Roier. The bald warrior released a safety latch on the damaged wings letting them fall to the deck with a clatter, suffering a similar fate to Phil's, covered in burns and tears. Fit moving to help bring aboard Slimecicle, Ironmouse and Etoiles as they arrived. 

Phil wants to help but his weakened body refuses, leaning back against the mast as he observes everything around him. The moment Etoiles spots him he looks relieved, a mutual feeling as that's one less person Phil had to grieve.

With that morbid thought in mind, the numerous healing potions effects dragged him into a deep slumber, someone catching him being the last thing he feels before sleep claims him.

You recall

To the past

And ascend

This crevasse

Fused with power

Strong of will

Guided hands

Fail you still

All your might

Gone to waste

Water splashing against a hull and gentle rocking awoke Phil where he was sprawled. Blinking confusedly, he attempts to move before a shock of pain through his body keeps him flat on his back, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He appeared to be in some cabin below deck of a ship, wings flat to the ground either side where they were laid out. Patches of angry skin peaked through the mussed and soaked feathers from his quick glances, salt crusting to delicate fringes.

Beeping beside the blonde draws his attention to the communicator by his head, a gold-gilded emerald earring he wears clinking against the wood paneling beneath him as he reaches shakily for the device.

You good? - Fit

Glad to have a trustworthy friend he can reach, he is too tired to pretend plus Fit might be the only person he can accept seeing him in such a state.

No. -Phil

Omw - Fit

After a few more moments, the device pings again as Fit questions where Phil is, the crow replying he is on a boat which Fit understands. Having no more energy as he was still healing, the communicator clatters to the floor as Phil slowly stretches each limb. Focusing on his breathing each time a movement tugged at angry flesh, he finds numerous burns and lacerations covering his wings and other appendages. Remembering the fight he barely healed from before the mad dash to the ship, he feels his aeons of agonies in that single moment, flaring up where the scars of memories from previous injuries lay.

“Philza?” Fit’s deep voice echos from somewhere in the distance, the crow giving up on verbal noises as his throat screams protest from swallowing far too much smoke and bangs his hand against the floor, heavy footsteps rushing towards him followed by another set.

“Oh my Goddess, Phil...” Tubbo’s concerned voice surprises Phil, the blonde looking to where his bald friend stood behind.

“I was with him at the time, plus I figured he could help.” Fit kneels at Phil’s side, whistling as he combs his fingers gently through his friend’s once great wings. “Dude, these are fucked.”

Letting out a shaky chuckle, Phil can’t help but give a small smile after Tubbo hands him a glass bottle of water to sip at, supporting his head to drink before he speaks. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

Tubbo goes to his other side, sitting against the floor and drawing backpack after knapsack out of his glowing inventory to surround where he is settling in to help.

“I don’t want the others to see them like this.” Phil softly admits, ashamed of how his proudest defining feature was so ruined. 

Not many on this island even knew about his extra limbs, when he woke up on the train they were shorn nearly permanently short, blood where the shears had nicked the skin. Out of respect, those who did see them never asked about them. The old crow held such sorrow every time he glimpsed their harsh and jagged silhouette; others would avert their gazes, then he would hide them away again. 

Often under long cloaks or capes, sometimes even binding them to his torso with tight bandages on the days he couldn’t afford for them to be in his way like during heavy combat or adventuring across thousands of blocks. The tension of binding kept the temptation far away from attempting to use them, he learned the hard way centuries ago when he broke a limb trying to fly on shorn feathers. Technoblade never quite let him live it down, extremely protective of the crow even from himself making him vow to never attempt again.

Looking across the burned expanses of feathers and flesh, he knew it would be far too painful to pull them close to his shoulder blades without decent support. Fit appears to come to the same conclusion, measuring across the crow-feathered appendages and sketching a quick design. Tubbo helps by doing a quick once over and removing the worst broken shafts around wounds leaking pus, torn open once more on their journey back from Purgatory apparently.

In a soft voice, Tubbo offers comfort. “I don’t see them as damaged, I see them as our lifeline out of that hellish place where we were trapped. Thank you for giving up your mobility for the sake of our escape.”

A pained grin crosses his face when Tubbo phrases his wounds in such a bright light, mumbling gently. “Toby, I would do it all over again to make sure you are safe.”

The brunette man begins to pull several spools of bandages and meticulously wraps up Phil’s wings, beginning with the tips and working his way inwards. Rubbing lotion into the worst wounds Fit has started to construct a brace, mumbling to each other different ideas for getting the fallen avian home. Phil knew the knowledgeable anarchist could do it, watching his shining mechanical arm function with the most minute precision stitching together some cloth. Fit was extremely skilled with building prosthetics, building a cage that would hold his wings tight in natural positions folded as much as they could against his shoulders was a simple problem Fit could easily solve.

Tubbo comes over to help after finishing his task, the pair chatting as they worked together while Phil was left to his own thoughts. Thinking of the four beings he left behind; Baghera, Jaiden, Cellbit and Foolish, abandoning the family he gained in the past harsh weeks he needed support.

He had gotten so used to their presence, it was odd to be without the loud volume of excited chatting and chirping. Baghera, Jaiden and himself were able to release their bird instincts they usually kept subdued, harmonising without realising as they worked together through the tasks assigned to them for the day. He missed having a flock to sing and warble with, laughing away the hours until all chaos broke loose, those late preening sessions that left them yawning and content as they lay down to sleep.

“Ready?” Fit broke him from his guilt-tainted thoughts, the crow silently nodding as the strong man worked with the energetic brunette, gentle hands reaching to manipulate his wings into the contraption Tubbo and Fit built.

Strapping the healing limbs into the brace, Fit and Tubbo help Phil fold them close and secure them in position, after doing so Fit shrugs off his forest green cloak. Draping the thick fabric overtop of the metal framework, Tubbo and Fit help the crow to his feet. Feeling a bit unbalanced he leans heavily into Fit, Tubbo helping by opening the doors as they make their way to where a smaller boat is waiting.

Phil takes the passenger seat as Fit climbs into the driver’s, Tubbo grumbling as he gets in the back with Fit’s teasing. They get into a light-hearted argument as Phil watches the sea pass them by, his attention being drawn back to his traveling companions suddenly as Ramón’s name comes up.

“–wonder when my beautiful baby boy Ramón will awaken?” Fit muses, Phil perking up.

“Ramón’s is here?”

“So is Chayanne and Tallulah.”

“Show me.” Simple but firm, Fit nods.

“We can visit them, then we will get you home.”

Arriving at the shore they make their way towards spawn, helping Phil steady himself for a bit before just quickly crafting him a staff for balance. Tubbo skips ahead and leads them towards a building made of white and purple quartz, glaring bright in the darkening evening. Behind invisible walls he spots one of their missing children sleeping away from his perspective as they approach the opening. Finally reaching the doorway Chayanne’s space awaits him directly at the end of the hall, the crow’s feet stumbling in his haste to see his son.

Falling to his knees before the clear blocks, unable to touch him but being grateful he can finally lay his tired blue eyes on the young dragon boy. Fit catches up to lay his hand on his shoulder, digging calloused fingers into his aching muscles. Tubbo greets each child as he walks by, joining where the warriors waited.

“He’s okay?” Phil chokes out, casting blurry eyes towards where his dragon girl lay. “So is she?”

“Exhausted and healing, but alive.”

“More than we have known for far too long.” Phil clutches his black shirt over his chest, relief relaxing his chest that had been held taut for moons.

“Oh, we are about to have company.” Tubbo says softly, two others rushing towards them.

Phil recognises the limping gait of Pac, one of his legs ending in a mechanical masterpiece made by Fit but he didn’t recognise the other individual heading their way.

“Oh hello Sunny.” Fit smiles wide, greeting the mocha-skinned girl with a hair of wild starlight strands. Wearing comfortable overalls, shiny shoes that light up with her steps and wings of gold, Phil’s heart lightens in the presence of the bright girl.

Not one vocal noise passed her lips yet she demanded the attention of the entire room, Tubbo going over to the dragon girl. Capturing her small hand he walks her over to Phil, a proud expression upon his scarred cheeks.

“Phil, I want you to meet my daughter, Sunny.”

The air leaves his lungs, wondering how this came to be before pulling up in front of a friendly face, deciding to question the facts later. “Why hello Sunny, how are you doing today?”

Writing quickly on a sign, the old crow fills with joy seeing the familiar action before she faces it towards us all. “I’d be better if Pa ever finished my house.”

“I’m working on it princess, I am sorry, uncle Phil needed help.”

“New children?” Phil questions in wonder, Sunny brushing back a stray flyaway of golden hair.

“They showed up yesterday, in the original adoption center holding papers containing the names of their parents.” Fit shrugs, Sunny turning her attention back to Tubbo who is listening to her demands with a fond yet tired expression.

“He’s been a father for one day and she’s got him wrapped around her finger.” Phil jokes, Fit agreeing.

“Less than, he read the certificate and his parental instincts took over. Mind you she woke up obnoxious and spoiled, he certainly isn’t helping his own case by indulging her.”

Phil looks over the pair then notices a lack of armor on the golden girl, breaking into the conversation.

“Sunny, do you need armour?”

Firmly shaking her head, Tubbo sighs. “She refuses to wear it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sunny stood her ground with a defiant stare in her chocolate eyes above her stylish sunglasses falling down her nose. Phil looks to Fit for help but he is too busy staring at Pac with red cheeks and stuttering some response to the man in a royal blue hoodie, the crow huffing out a sigh with a smirk as he addresses the small girl.

“This island is dangerous, sunshine, you need to protect yourself.”

Deliberately turning away, she refuses once more.

“Star, he has a point.” Tubbo backs the crow up, joining where he kneels at her eye level.

Preparing his next argument, Phil gets halfway through his sentence before Badboyhalo and Dapper burst through the door with Etoiles shortly behind. The whole group moves outside to not disturb those within the hospital, barely outside the door, and Phil questions the tall demon with odd white and sky-blue eyes peeking from the shadows of his face. Not too much help as Bad seems to be suffering from severe memory damage, his thoughts resetting every few moments.

Dapper and Sunny meet one another with shy glances, before Sunny makes a move and steals his tophat. The parents laugh as they watch their children chase each other around, Sunny standing on top of a small hill posing all fancy as Dapper furiously writes insults.

Once they run around and get some of their energy out, Phil works his way back inside taking out six golden apples from his inventory. Starting with his own children, he places the gilded fruit on the table just outside where his chicks rest. Dapper and Sunny decide to leave a little something for each of them to wake up, Phil helping them plant a poppy for Tallulah and leaving a crown for Chayanne on an armour stand, tailoring their gifts to the children they place them in front of.

Soon, they began to dissipate, either in groups or one by one the hospital emptied until it was only himself and Fit. Leaning heavily against his old friend, the night’s symphony is the only sound beyond the old pair of warriors breathing where they stood in the middle of the corridor. Both moved towards their respective children, Fit towards the left and Phil to the right between Chayanne and Tallulah’s rooms.

Fit draws a worn coffee-coloured sleeping bag from his inventory, Phil chuckling. “Neither of us are leaving this hospital, are we, mate?”

“I will be here every morning and night until my beautiful baby boy made in heaven by the Goddess Herself awakens.”

Phil simply nods as he takes out his own forest green sleeping bag, both laughing now.

“We are predictable aren’t we, my old friend.” Fit jokes, tucking himself in the sleeping bag beside where Ramón rests.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Phil regards the one he had come to trust the most upon this world, an affectionate smile upon his ancient face before it falls, remembering who they left behind.

“What’s on your mind?” Fit rolls to his side, leaning onto his elbow as he regards the crow.

“I worry about those who chose to stay in Purgatory.” Phil bites out, memories full of four people waving away on the shore they abandoned a few days ago. “They stayed for the sake of their children but now their children are here, thanks to Cucurucho and whatever angle the Federation is going for.”

Fit’s face turns troubled, looking towards where his son sleeps before his expression changes to one of a determined man. “Then once our kids awaken and settle back in, we take a boat and try to go back. No man, woman, nobody is left behind on FitMC’s watch.”

“Our first priority is comforting our children–” It felt like acid on his tongue to consider any other option than rushing back to save them, every fiber of his being wanting to take off to rescue his adopted flock that went through literal purgatory together. A divide fell right through his heart, his children or his flock….it was a decision he wished upon no one. “Then yes, we go back. If we don’t find any more clues of if they are alive or….”

The crow trails off, Fit nodding. It wasn’t a set of words the crow wished to speak, praying to Her to watch out for those he came to care for. “Anywhere Phil, you say the word and I am there.”

“Thanks mate.” Phil reaches over to grasp Fit’s hand once, then settles down into his sleeping bag after Fit helps him remove the brace he still wore from his aching wings.

Fit takes time to gently preen his friend, hands not quite as precise or practiced in the act but he did his best. After they were both nice and tired they lay down, slumber stealing them away one by one like the children they were surrounded by.

I will strike

Leave no trace

None can rise

In my stead

So why can't you just stay dead

Wake up.

Phil looks away from where he is fishing, an expanse of white and ice before him, chilly waters lapping against the ground near his feet. A powerful voice rang through his head in the tones of thousands, drawing his thoughts away from winter preparations with his allegiance and best friend, Technoblade.

Wake up. Your children are returning.

Children? The only one he had was all grown up now. She wouldn’t warn Phil about that person’s arrival, the Goddess liked seeing her husband and son interact.

Phil begins to reel in the bobbing line, wondering where his piglin friend was. Probably off sharpening yet more weapons. When Techno grew bored he either pushed the rules of the world they were on to its limits or made a large amount of weaponry to prepare for the worst.

They were running out of space to be honest and already had a law named after their shenanigans. Wouldn’t be too long until the crow and piglin decided to move to the next world, despite how fun this one had been.

Rolling off his chair with a thud into a far different world, Phil awakens to the same room he fell asleep in for two moons with a groan. Shaking his head as he picks himself up off the mossy floor, his skin still feels the chill of the Antarctic despite the climate on this world being much more friendly. Huffing out a sad laugh, he reminisces on his best friend off fighting gods while the crow raises yet more children. Both of them had bad habits of picking up strays they grew protective of, the main difference is Phil wore his heart on his sleeve and Techno guarded his behind obsidian walls.

Once he claimed you though, he would go to the ends of the world to save you.

Reminded of his Goddess’s voice waking him from reminiscing, he speaks quietly to Her in the company of none. “I miss you beloved, thank you.”

A few days had passed since he awoke on the boat to find his children were finally back on the island. The crow had been more social than usual catching up with his fellow members of the places they currently called home, cleaning up the leftover black vines that had crept forth while they were searching for their hearts.

For the first time since Purgatory’s end, Phil decided to leave the brace for his wings at home. Fit and Tubbo helped design him a backpack with a slot he could tuck his damaged limbs in, an embroidered skull on the front by Niki’s careful hand. It allowed him to perfectly hide them, even though they were now slightly cramped, shrugging the straps over his shoulders after pulling on his cloak.

Fixing a piece of ribbon Techno used as a hair tie on that world he dreamt of to his chest in a bow, he runs a brush through his wheat-coloured tresses that now brushed his shoulders. Fingers lingering on the eight beads he wore tucked around a braid that hung from behind his left ear; rose pink, daffodil yellow, leaf green, blood red, indigo purple, caramel brown, ocean blue and gold, all hand carved and carefully dyed with whatever the crow could find. 

Weaving the rest of his hair back quickly trying not to linger on the absence of Techno in their usual ritual, thinking of the snark he would catch when Techno was left out of braiding the crow's hair. They treasured those quiet times with tea for both, the sun burning away the mist of morning on whichever server they were together on. After Techno finished with Phil, they traded places and the avian styled Techno’s waist-length strands shaded the same tone as the edge of a vibrant lotus petal.

As the sun finished rising a beep sounded through the servers' communicator devices announcing for all island members to gather at the hospital, it was time for their children to be returned to them.

Fidgeting with his emerald earring, he shrugs from the decision he had been considering, picking up the shield that hangs by his door. Painted the same shade of a cold sea and ice white that filled his visions during slumber, drawing comfort from the familiar weight upon his forearm. He needed all the grounding items he could layer himself with for the emotion-filled day that was ahead.

Walking outside he sings along with the birds that made their nests within the avocado trees he carefully cultivated, unconsciously falling into birdsong with the other avians perched nearby. Looking around he spots what he was trying to find, a crow decorated in the vibrant particles and eyes the same colour as a lit nether portal.

It solidified his resolve to face today; Her eyes nearby, mind wrapped in memories of the past as he faced this current future.

Another ding informed Philza to hurry up, taking out his glider he moves to the closest spot to fly down. Hearing the group long before spotting it clearly, he lands on the ground gracefully then puts his brown glider in his glowing inventory.

“Oi!” Fit’s voice greets the crow, some of his nerves melting away at his friend’s immediate presence at his side. “Good to see you awake.”

“You thought I would miss this?”

“To be fair, you have slept for an entire week before.”

“My dear old friend, what is a week to someone like me?” Fit can only laugh, the shared secret of Phil’s escape from the ravages of a mortal lifetime had been told over a campfire together mere weeks into knowing one another once more. 

Compared to people he had told before, the man took it well as he held a similar story of his mind keeping all his prior life's memories. Phil could never let go of the histories easily, reliving memories through storytime with those he cared about was a favoured pastime of his. The Angel of Death mantle was a heavy one, guilt dripping like blood from the crown made of wither bone that once rested upon his brow. Once, he and Techno held matching circlets, the piglin’s of gold and precious emerald gems while the crow’s was wither bones and crimson jewels molded into ender eyes.

Looking at Fit, he gives a smile while packing down the sorrow. “So, have we heard anything about when the hatchlings will wake up?”

Fit shakes his head, Tubbo bounding to Phil’s side and throwing himself into hugging the crow who nearly stumbles because of his action while laughing. Another dear friend joins them, Niki’s rose hair practically glowing under the sun, holding a small girl with long chestnut hair. A hat styled like pancakes sat on top of her head, waving shyly as Niki greeted Phil.

“Philza, meet my daughter Empanada.” Niki proudly states, Empanada’s bright yellow eyes wrinkling softly at the corner as she smiles.

“Oh hello, little one.” Phil gives a wide grin to the small dragon, her soft sunshine wings tucked close to her body.

Suddenly, the joyful parents grow silent as the one who scared them all joins the gathering. Cucurucho, the bear hybrid with a terrifying stitched mouth and black, bottomless eyes, was dressed in their usual smart business suit. Different from usual, they were covering their smirking mouth with a blue medical mask.

Two of his employees joined, motioning all gathered to join them inside the hospital.

“Good morning.”

The robotic voice welcomed them, some visabley shuddering and moving closer to trusted friends. Tubbo slunk back to behind Fit who stepped forth, the boy with sun-tipped hair having a bad experience with their ‘friendly’ overseer. 

“The eggs were found in serious conditions a week ago. They have been sleeping in order to stabilize their health.”

Bagi, one of the newer members to their ragtag group of misfits, stepped forth with her detective hat pulled low over her split-dyed hair. “You were the one to find them right?”

“Yes.”

Phil quietens the group after many more questions are thrown, Cucurucho’s unnerving stare looking directly at the crow. He pulls open a tablet and shows them all a video, glaring down any further attempts at talking while the instructions are playing.

Phil taps his foot while it's in progress, eager for it to finish before looking around the room quickly as everyone starts to lose their mind. Looking to whichever of his chicks is closest, Tallulah blinks awake behind the invisible barrier.

She seems out of it until she sees Phil, a raging storm of emotions deep within those chocolate eyes that were identical to Wilbur’s. She peers around, the blonde’s heart breaking as he realises that she is looking for Wilbur. Shaking his head sadly, he presses a hand to the barrier and mouths ‘soon’. A single tear falls before she nods, joining him on the other side of their separation, spending a moment together before he goes to check on his oldest hatchling.

Looking to where his golden boy is, Chayanne peeks out from behind the signs plaster on the tank by one of the other new eggs. His dragon skull intact, glowing blue eyes greet the crow as his endless dignified resolve breaks. Phil has water streaming down his cheeks as he waves going as close as he can to his son, Cucurucho interrupting them briefly to break the barrier.

The blonde dragon launches himself directly into Phil’s arms who nearly falls over, Fit leaning over quickly to balance the avian from where he is being held tight by Ramón. Mustache firmly in place, Ramón smiles with his eyes full of mischief as Fit looks the happiest Phil has ever seen him. Pac rushes over to greet the explosive-loving child, kneeling with a click of his leg while he waits his turn to hug Ramón.

Phil lowers himself down to the floor, Tallulah joining so both his children are in his arms. Holding them ever so tight, he presses kisses between their horns on their foreheads. “You little shits, don’t ever leave me again.”

Chayanne smacks his chest gently, eyes narrowed as Tallulah clings closer, Phil’s shoulder becoming wet from her tears. “I missed you both so much, I prayed every day She would bring you back to me.”

After some much needed reunions and many tears, the parents began to split off into small groups to spend more time with the one they missed the most. Phil and Niki followed Tallulah outside before she took off for Wilbur’s home with the other two in pursuit before the crow remembered his other child who was probably confused.

“Niki, mind keeping an eye on her while I go back to get Chayanne?” The kind woman nods, taking Tallulah’s hand.

Retrieving his blonde son, they reunite at Wilbur’s house, a beautiful tower of spruce wood surrounded by flowers and bright trees. His adopted daughter had an eye for decorating, showing it through the yard she surrounded their beloved sanctuary with, including an expansive flower garden surrounding the plot. Phil finds her at the iron door, pressing her hand against it but not opening it.

“Flower, are you okay?” He asks her, she shakes her head before taking out a piece of rope and tying it quickly around his wrist, holding the loose end.

“Probably if I lasso you maybe you won’t leave again :(” She writes quickly on a purple sign, facing it towards Philza.

“Tallulah, I didn’t leave you. You went missing!” He insists, Tallulah sticks out her bottom lip with a defiant expression.

Niki and Chayanne are excitedly speaking together, already talking about baking together. Phil smirked after reassuring his daughter he wouldn’t leave again, his son had been back for about five minutes and was already missing his kitchen with the large gestures towards the wall he was making when talking to Phil’s trusted friend. The blonde crow hoped that the room wasn’t too dusty, he couldn’t bear spending much time in there without his kids brightening up the space but now they were back he had the itch to clean it from top to bottom.

Sitting down at the table beneath a great pine tree, Tallulah snuggles close to Phil as he gives them the short version of what has happened since they left. Speaking about Purgatory with a heavy heart and a swiftness to move on, he doesn’t delve too far into the topic before the subject goes back to the bakery.

Niki and Empanada wanted to talk more about this lovely store idea they had, wanting to make a place where the other members of the island could come relax. The woman made an offhand comment about them all being a family and Phil couldn’t help but smile. No matter how much watching mortals experience time hurt, something he had been through many times over, he couldn’t help but grow attached to those nearby.

Chayanne was already planning out the idea in his notebook, Niki nodding excitedly.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, the sun sinking towards the horizon, finding the happy gathering in Tallulah’s flower garden. Tugging at Phil’s red belt, he peers down at his chick.

“Need something?”

“I want to read the letter my Papi left me.”

Reaching down to softly comb a hand through her wild curly tresses, he kneels. “Are you sure you are ready?”

Nodding firmly, he offers his hand as they go say goodbye to Niki and Empanada. To no one’s surprise all three of the children got along perfectly, well nearly. Tallulah held some hesitation surrounding her godmother’s daughter, Phil was convinced it would simply take time to see if a friendship would develop or not. Speaking excitedly about the bakery, they give one another hugs before the families go their separate ways.

Climbing to the top of the house Wilbur built her originally, the crow’s arms aching as he ascends the ladder through the middle of the wooden building. The next hour is full of the painful resurgence of missing his son, Tallulah distant as she read the book he left the last time he was here. Running his fingers through her long chestnut hair, untangling the curls that were wild with bed-head as he provides a grounding point for his adopted daughter.

She goes silent for a good long time, Chayanne holding her close as she mourns her absent parental figure before standing up with defiance. Marching outside after one more action, making a point of smashing the chest full of poppies before asking for a change of topic. In Wilbur’s absence she had placed one for every day they were apart, clearly breaking that tradition Phil and Chayanne followed her outdoors to the shed containing her warp stone.

Seeing the hurt within her coffee-coloured eyes felt like a slice through the crow’s own heart, peering up at him his mind came up with the perfect distraction.

“How about this, let’s go to the event areas that happened while you were missing. I am sad you couldn’t be there originally but I swore the day you appeared we would act like it was the day of the celebration.”

“Which holidays were celebrated?” Chayanne asks.

Phil winces thinking of how to tell them both they missed their favourites, deciding to just rip the bandaid off as he kneels before them. “Day of the Dead and Halloween.”

“I’d rather be back in my coma, thanks.” Lulah sasses, Phil rolling his eyes as Chayanne places his own sign.

“Me too.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, watching out of the corner of his eye as his Lulah makes a show of turning towards her house. 

“Talullah.” Stopping in her tracks, he holds his hand out to her. “I planned for us to go visit them now, together, as a family.”

Chay bounces on his heels, looking between his sister and his father waiting for Tallulah to decide. The blonde knew his dragon girl was the one to convince, hoping he can weave similar magic to the events at their full glory.

Finally, she nods, Phil letting out a breath of relief. “Which one first, chicks?”

Trading glances, they both think before putting down signs saying the other can choose. Phil giggles as his daughter smacks her brother’s shoulder with her rosy wings, Chayanne also chuckling before looking back to their father to solve the dilemma.

“How about this, we go to where Tallulah wants first then we will do yours Chay.”

Agreeing, he tells them the options again before Tallulah decides that she wants to go to Bonfire Night first. Chay’s eyes light up in the evening moonbeams, Phil smiling. He knew his son with a streak of chaos would love the remains of the street they blew up in celebration.

“Let’s go back to the top of the wall then we can glide over.”

Making his children go first, he only touches the sharestone once they both vanish into nether particles that reminded him of his Goddess’s ever watchful eye. Appearing underneath the heavy boughs of ripe avocados and other fruits, both his kids take off towards the trapdoor with gleeful faces.

Phil felt some of the tension leave his shoulders seeing their joy bloom forth once more, reminding himself to keep their spirits high. They could stay up tonight visiting places until sleep dragged them home with heavy eyelids.

As they descend into the basement the crow waits outside, Phil shrugging off his backpack after checking no one else was around, placing the bag on the ground as he slowly unfolds his wings. Protesting the cramped space, he lets out a groan of relief. Since purgatory reinjured them all the original pain had returned in full force and then some. Only instead of being shorn, they had been burned by the sky that once embraced him gently and turned needed feathers to ash.

Shaking a few of the loose pieces to the ground, he begins to roll his shoulders back to stretch them before stopping due to the agony that rippled through them.

Unnoticed by the blonde crow, his children had returned to the surface to see their father’s state of defeat and approach quietly. Phil jumps when they return to eyesight, their faces sadly soft as Tallulah reaches out to run a gentle hand down his injured limb.

“Why are they so much worse?” Chay writes in his notebook, Phil thinking back to saving a certain sun-tipped brunette boy he felt protective of.

“In the time you were gone I was also away from the island for an extended period of time, a story I can tell you later.” Seeing the curious expressions, he knew he wasn’t running away from the inquiries that would follow that insinuation. “In short, for now, we were placed on an island far away divided into teams and had to fight each other for points. After that was over, we were chased from its shores by one of the worst storms I have ever seen, I had to fly myself and Tubbo out.”

“Is godfather alright?” Chay’s worries about their family members shone through immediately, tossing aside his usual mockery when it came to actual danger.

“I took the brunt of it, I paid the price through undoing the healing that had miraculously been happening while I was away from here. Now we are back to when I first arrived, if not worse as the scarring is more…extensive.” He hesitated to say he worried they would ever heal again while he remained in this world, they didn’t need the worries that kept him awake at night. Facing another world flightless made his skyborn blood feel further away each lifetime that passed, needing the advantage they could provide in protecting those he was close to.

“I think we might have more in common with you in our time apart than we thought.” Tallulah faces her sign towards Phil, who tilts his head. “Can we raincheck that story to before bed tonight?”

A taste of his own medicine, how fitting he thinks as his curiosity roared forth before he tampered it down. Chayanne had already pulled out his field medicine kit and his hatchlings worked together to quickly treat the worst burns. The crow can’t help but be so proud of these children who had come into his care, seeing them work together on a salve based on a recipe he taught them with lavender and aloe.

Between Tallulah’s flower knapsack and Chayanne’s chef one, they made the medicine as Phil was made to sit on a chair they dragged over from nearby the door. He is catching up on the various messages and communications through the device all islanders held, as he goes to put it away it beeps once more.

Checking the text, Fit is asking them to meet up. Following a similar path to the one Phil planned, he and his son ended up at Bonfire Night, asking if the crow’s family wished to join them for dinner. Knowing his friend perfectly, the anarchist had probably forgotten food and wanted the blonde to bring his talented cook of a son to make them something.

Posing the question to Chayanne after they declared him better, he agrees to the idea as he helps place his father’s damaged appendages back in their space within the black backpack. Tallulah organises their medical kit before giving it back to Chayanne, all three walking in the direction needed to get closer to the place they intended to go.

They all take out their gliders after reaching the location they intended to descend from, Phil wishing for the thousandth time he wasn’t holding artificial flight when he took the step off the edge. Heading towards the base of the imitation of a famous clock where they spent this event prior, he looks forward to seeing the man and his son who awaited him.

Just stay dead

Stay dead

'Cause I won't stay dead

Stay dead

I will not stay dead

“Ramón, we did our best alright?” Fit’s booming voice greets them as they land, watching the chaotic brunette with his usual wicked look in his eyes peer up at his dad.

“Hello mate!” Phil calls out to the bald man who is facing away from them, twirling to face the blonde.

“Oi, hello Phil! Didn’t think you would be here so fast!”

“Forgot to bring dinner while on your excursion?” Calling him out in a light hearted tone, Ramón immediately nods as Fit tries to brush it off with stammered excuses.

Chayanne is already setting up a grill over a campfire Ramón helped him light, Tallulah stopping to give Fit a poppy he immediately places behind his ear. Phil can’t help but smile seeing this man who was terrifying to many wear a flower given by a dragon girl with a wicked tongue to protect her sweet heart.

“Anyways Phil, my son was just insulting our abilities to destroy using the clock we blew up as an example.”

“Let me see you do better with the resources we were given.” Playfully challenging the child, he immediately regrets it as Ramón throws a stack of explosives to both his father and the crow.

Laughing gleefully, Fit picks it up as Chayanne begins to prepare dinner with Tallulah’s help. Catching his son’s wistful stare he gives the TNT back to Ramón with a grateful expression, explaining his decision.

“Later mate, I promise we can go take down every single block but for now let’s help Chay with dinner, okay?” After a few seconds of deliberation he nods, accepting the offered items back. “Plus, king, did you know I spawned two withers on the top of Big Ben?”

His eyes widened, the small child loved anything destructive and these unruly summons were top of the list. Only used in extreme circumstances, Phil broke his own rule that day for the extra flavour of disorder after so long of feeling numb without his hatchlings. In honour of those who weren’t there at the time, adoring the look in Ramón’s eyes as he recounted the last part of the event. 

It was funny how quickly all these children wormed their way into everyone’s hearts, especially the crow’s stitched one. Held together by threads woven of friends long past, gold poured into its cracks to illuminate and strengthen the flaws, most days he felt it was a struggle to put one foot in front of the other.

But the sheer happiness he was overwhelmed with now being reunited with all these sparks that kept their heart fire going, his chest felt the smallest bit looser as they sat down for dinner together.

Compliments were given to the chef before they dug in, the only sounds for a bit are silverware clinking off their plates. Gathered around the same table they celebrated Niki’s birthday at, Tallulah is the first to open up the conversation; writing something in her notebook then turning it to face Fit.

“Can you check my hearing aids after supper, tio? I think their batteries are low…” Fit reads aloud, nodding. “Of course Tallulah, no problem. I should have the tools on me, if not the journey is quick.”

Plans and discussions about how they would spend the rest of the night were traded over the lovely chicken and rice Chayanne had prepared. Revelling in how it felt to have his hatchlings and precious friends close, he couldn’t help the guilty that crept forth thinking of those they left behind.

Picturing Richas and Pomme desperately asking the others where their parents were, Leo tagging along scared without her father in the time after they awoke at the hospital. The blonde was glad they had people around them who cared but knew they wouldn’t settle down until they confirmed the status of their parents which none of them could.

Last he saw Cellbit, Baghera, Foolish and Jaiden were their waves as the yacht left them behind. Standing on an island being ripped apart by flaming rocks from the sky, the crimson colour of the air matching the beaches that had seen far too much bloodshed.

He felt bad that he was here celebrating his children being alive when some of the island’s kids didn’t know the same of their own parents.

Reaching the end of his plate quicker than he realised, Ramón’s nudge brings him out of his daydreams. He appears inquisitive, tossing looks towards Fit making sure he is busy doing as Tallulah had politely asked before turning his notebook to Phil.

“He told me Spreen is dead so I am now putting him on the market for a new spouse.”

The crow couldn’t help it, bursting out laughing at how straight-forward the moustache-bandana wearing child was. Ramón glares down Fit’s own curious stare, Chay drawing his attention back as Tallulah hummed.

“Is there anyone he has been interested in during our absence?”

Thinking of his dear friend and the looks he traded with a certain Brazilian man, his own trouble-making side came to play, dropping his voice as Tallulah brought out her flute. She had replaced one hearing aid and with a knowing look towards her papa began to play, Fit doing further maintenance with the other.

“One person.” Drawing it out some more, he enjoys the annoyed look on Ramón’s face before holding out his hand. “Give me your sign, I’ll write it.”

Tallulah had stopped to put in her other hearing aid, Fit catching the tail end of what Phil said. “I don’t think that's necessary–”

Without missing a beat, Ramón yanks a potato gun from his inventory and pelts his father until Fit flees. Laughing loudly watching him stand in the distance far out of earshot, Phil scratches three letters onto the board.

Pac.

Giving a happy wiggle, Ramón salutes Phil and says goodbye to Chayanne and Tallulah with firm hugs. They all had to move along with their night now that dinner was finished and planned to go their separate ways, Fit going back to spawn where Phil was off to the next event location.  As they clean up from their meal they make plans to come back sometime in the near future to destroy the clock to the point no blocks remained, but that was for a later time.

Go ahead

Bury Me

I will not stay dead

Hold me down

Take my breath

I will thrive instead

Using their warps and a red sharestone, Phil takes them to the next chosen place; the Halloween event. The question of ‘where next’ had barely left his mouth before his son made his decision, the night flickering with candlelight of jack o'lanterns leading the family down a path to the mansion Phil had visited and ransacked during the event, taking photos they were taking pit stops to look at before leaving each area.

Finding a few barrels holding candy and goodies still, they work together to search the main floor to find overlooked loot. Watching fondly as they work together, ending up back in the front hall both his kids have overflowing baskets, Phil coming up with their next idea of what to do.

“I want you both to find costumes based on the clothes in this mansion for the costume show in half an hour.” Challenging them, he watches both of his hatchlings search around with their eyes before he even counts down, clapping his hands together to release them.

Making his way around the mansion to gather the books surrounding the lore within these walls, he leans against the counter in the rustic kitchen at the back of the house. Adjusting his backpack he waits for his energetic kids to show themselves, absentmindedly paging through the volumes he collected.

Hearing a distant crash he wonders if he should worry about hearing the frantic footsteps before Chayanne appears with a sheepish face under an emerald-encrusted witch hat. Mentioning a vase he had accidentally knocked over, they trade candy and eat too much waiting for Lulah.

Eventually she joins them with a mischievous look, explaining she will don hers moments before her spot as she wanted to go after her brother.

Outside the air is chilly, the backyard large enough to accompany the stage that took up most of it. Phil makes his way over to the judges chair and finds a whiteboard and marker, smiling as he settles in.

Announcing he would award points based on how entertained he was by their performances, he leaves the floor open for them to do what they want.

Both his children wait on the sidelines, their joy loud as Chay puts a large skull over his head that looks identical to Missa’s while wrapping himself in a white sheet. Sweeping onto the stage he makes a show of looking spooky as Phil plays up being scared, screaming for effect as his son launches himself from the stage to get closer to his father.

His daughter chooses a different route. Instead of scary Lulah draped herself in a cloak of wildflowers and a silver crown molded like tree branches, taking her place on the stool in the middle of the wooden deck. Drawing out her acoustic guitar, Phil’s chest catches seeing her brunette curls fall in front of her eyes as she focuses on the music she wished to weave. The image of Wilbur before him as she strums away upon the stringed instrument tuning it quickly, before finding the first chord position and starting to play.

Some days the loneliness hit more than others, today being one of them looking at Chayanne and seeing a certain thick-skulled friend of his with piglin genes while they listened to a guitar played by a skilled individual. Ghosts of his past to haunt his current presence, finding himself drawn to similar personalities over and over again. He couldn’t help it, he was raising his kids on stories of the friends he envisioned in these moments and missing them when the connections slipped into place.

Chayanne cheered his sister on from where he joined Phil at the judges table, they matched votes of perfect. Declaring it a tie as he had given his son the same rating, he divides all their spoils in half and they add it to their glowing inventory with wide grins.

Feeling the tiredness seep into their bones they agree to go to the last location rather than head home just yet. Most people had gone to sleep by now, between the trio none of them wanted the night to end. This precious night was the start of new, better memories now that they had been reunited as a family unit, spending it together under Her night sky was a wonderful place to be.

Tallulah skipped ahead before pausing at the entrance to the Day of the Dead event, the flowers spread across the field stunning her the same way it did Phil. Probably his favourite area that had been constructed so far, unfortunately he slept through the main day but Fit took him on a private tour the day after.

The mood takes a more somber tone as they come across the first egg’s ofreda, both Chayanne and Tallulah holding each of his hands as they stop before it.

Phil reflected on the close calls they had, holding his children closer thinking of how much the parents of these fallen children hurt and watching them understandably and tragically fall apart. Working together, they decide on offerings to leave in each space as they speak about the child they are mourning while keeping impossibly close to one another.

Watching Tallulah draw out flowers his heart clenches, emotions washing forth of the night he lost her the first time. Upon sandy beaches of a shore, after an attack by a beast that was unpredictable at best his flower bled out while a frantic Chayanne held her. Phil had seen far too many children die in his impossible lifetime, one he was entrusted to protect hurt a thousandfold more.

After the third muscle cramp as they traverse the brightly-coloured land Phil asks them to hold up for a minute and releases his wings from their bonds for now. Needing to air them out, he places his backpack into his glowing inventory and chooses to take out his camera instead. Capturing fractures of life within film, they spend the rest of their night paying their respects and taking photos throughout the gorgeous landscaping.

Perching on the hanging bench to end their visit, both his kids lay their head on his lap as they slowly swung, the rustling of the gigantic tree that protected them their melody of peace. Running his fingers through both of their hair, he sings a lullaby from a time long ago as they doze.

Phil spends an unknown amount of time staring at the slowly rising moon and sending prayers for all to be well, both for the family in front of them and those he left behind.

Eventually, he rouses his hatchlings enough to get them home to their sanctuary atop the stone wall, all preparing to go to bed slowly. Brushing their hair Tallulah asks if Niki can come over soon, wanting to trim back her long locks Phil tells her to remind him in the morning. Braiding it tightly, he does the same to Chay’s shoulder-length spun gold before they slumber.

Phil ends up sitting between his two children preening his wings as their last task of the day, taking special care of the sore appendages after the abuse they had suffered these past moons. They refused to let him go to bed until they did so, eyes heavy as they ran growing careful fingers through his broken feathers.

He can’t help the warbling that comes out whenever they come across a particularly sore spot, Tallulah’s nimble fingers removing broken shafts as Chay rubs medicinal ointments. He hates to take advantage of their kindness but they would not accept no as an answer, an ideal team as they had experience helping care for his night-feathered limbs.

It left the crow alone with his own thoughts as they worked, not wanting to interrupt their flow with having to write out answers. His soul remained at war with itself, louder as each sunrise passed. He was so fucking happy to be around his children again but he couldn’t help being sad with unknowing if the family he formed still lived.

Four faces rotated through his mind again. Cellbit, Baghera, Jaiden and Foolish. Phil and his fellow islanders had no clue where they were, no leads as to if those left behind even survived. Hell, they weren’t positive on how to return to the horizon he last saw them under, memory lacking due to being unconscious the whole journey back here a common story from each person he spoke with about it.

Team Bolas spent quite a while talking of hypotheticals while doing the tasks they were required to do for measly percentages at the end of it all, only growing closer in the caverns that sheltered them after exhausting days. Everyone on the team he was assigned to protect as the leader promised to stick together no matter what, even after returning to the island. Proposing getting together for meals or going on adventures, there were so many things unfulfilled by their desire to sacrifice their way home for the sake of their children who came home without them.

Philza admired the sentiment but had no idea how to rectify that decision that left them marooned entire days away. Yet as the only member consistently waking up on Team Bolas, the responsibility kept finding its way back to him. The ideal was at war with wanting to spoil his children with all he could devote to them, dearly missing the ones he came to care the world for and being greedy for every second they could spend as a family.

Now? Now only he and a few others had been confirmed as alive, but those missing sucked the happiness from that realisation. This island felt dull and lifeless without those who saved his life on that hellish arena, he mourned not seeing their faces every day in spite of the chaotic events they were surrounded with.

It started off hopeless and somehow they won, through appearing as a gas mask cult and working hard to bring home the win when they had the chance, they won.

But at the cost of four lives Phil felt like he was stranded without. He had been looking forward to making plans with them when they were back here, Bolas became the foundation of a family he wished to interact with daily. Quesadilla Island had its fair share of problems but at least here they weren’t given weapons and told to go kill once allies.

Before that two week excursion and two moon kidnapping Philza, Chayanne and Tallulah were an isolated trio of three. Phil kept to himself where he perched and his children followed suit, preferring to stay away from any danger to his family which meant they spent a lot of time together and not much apart. It was rare they were seen without their paranoid father, ever cautious over their chances since he saw both of them lose one. Their circle of friends was tight and the people the crow trusted his children with was even smaller.

But in that half moon stint in purgatory, he founded a support network he was currently floundering without. There is something to be said about those you see the worst of humanity with, and Phil felt lost without those dear to him from that supposed ‘vacation’.

Small hands wipe the tears falling down his cheeks, Tallulah reaching out to hug him and pull him back to the present after she hands him a handkerchief. Chayanne holds out a notebook, his harsher handwriting facing the blonde man.

“Want to talk about it?”

As he opens his mouth Tallulah grabs the volume, scrawling her own line of thinking below her brother’s. “We should discuss our time apart, specifically what I told you I wanted to raincheck. But you should start.”

Phil searches both her chocolate and his sky eyes, finding any hints of doubt and finding none. Helping them climb in bed and placing his own directly between, he blankets them beneath his heavy wings as he debates where to begin his recalling. Needing the comfort of touch tonight, neither disagree as they settle in peering up at their father.

“It was around two moons after you went missing when we were shipped off to a place called Purgatory–”

Cheat the game

Break my stride

You'll see me again

Like the plague

I will spread

'Cause I won't stay dead

'Cause I won't stay dead

'Cause I won't stay dead