Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Sapnap opened his eyes, the sight that greeted him was… not what he’d expected.

The room he woke up in was decked out—and he meant decked out. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling like something straight out of a palace, the walls were lined with intricate portraits, and there were gems, actual precious gems, on display in glass cases.

One tiny problem, though: he was in a crib.

A fucking crib.

He blinked, staring at the bars surrounding him like some kind of baby jail. What the hell? His mind scrambled to process the situation, and his first thought was, How the hell did I end up here?

Flashback

Just a few hours ago—at least, he thought it was a few hours ago—Sapnap had been finishing up an exam. He’d spent weeks studying for it, so as he shoved his books into his bag, he figured he deserved a little reward.

Should I?

he mused, glancing at his phone.

Well… yeah. I deserve a treat after all that.

Mind made up, he headed toward the campus café. It was a place he’d been to a million times, nothing special. He stood in line, zoning out as he thought about what to order.

Maybe just an iced coffee. Basic, but it’ll do.

He was about to step up to the counter when —BAM!

The door to the café flew open with a loud crash. He whipped around just in time to see two figures storm in, wearing masks and waving guns.

His heart froze. The room, once filled with quiet chatter, fell into an eerie silence. Every muscle in his body locked up, his mind racing in a million directions all at once.

Then, blinding pain.

Everything went black.

Waking up wasn’t quite the right phrase for what came next. It was more like… coming into existence. At first, he was surrounded by darkness—total, endless black. No sound. No light. Just an overwhelming feeling of nothingness.

Am I dead?

he thought.

Is this limbo or something?

Before he could make sense of it, a presence appeared in front of him. A figure materialized out of the darkness, and Sapnap's breath hitched in his throat.

It was a man—well, man might not have been the right word. His skin was pitch black, horns protruded from his head, and a strange robe billowed around him, despite there being no wind. He looked like something out of a nightmare.

And yet… Sapnap recognized him.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

No way. No freaking way.

The man standing before him wasn’t just anyone. He was the king of the Nether—the ruler of the entire underworld. Sapnap had seen this man before, not in real life, but in the pages of a novel.

A novel he’d read ages ago.

This… this is impossible.

But the more he looked, the more familiar everything became. The man, the robes, the dark and menacing aura… it was all straight out of the book. And if he was right, then that meant—
Oh no.

Sapnap looked down at his own hands—or rather, the lack of them. Instead of standing, he was lying down, his body tiny and weak, barely able to move. I’m a baby. I’m a baby in the world of a novel.

The pieces started clicking together. He must’ve reincarnated—into the body of the prince of the Nether. The same prince who, in the novel, was destined to become a powerful warrior with unmatched fighting skills.

Okay, he thought, that’s… actually kinda cool.

Then reality hit him. Hard.

In the novel, the prince wasn’t just a badass fighter—he was the antagonist’s best friend. The one who stood by his side through everything… and ultimately died right beside him in a blaze of tragic glory.

Who am I kidding? I’m so fucked.

He’d forgotten most of the plot, only bits and pieces remained. He knew the prince had a fiery spirit and had impressed some of the most powerful people in the world. But he also knew this prince's story ended in death.

Unless…
If I play my cards right, Sapnap thought, his mind racing, maybe I can change things. Maybe I don’t have to die this time.

But one thing was for sure: life wasn’t going to be as simple as an iced coffee anymore.

Chapter Text

The novel was called Flower Gleam and Glow. Sapnap remembered that much. It followed a kid named Tommy—an orphan living in the countryside with his best friend, Toby. Normal life, nothing special.

Until the day Tommy’s world flipped upside down.

At eleven, Tommy started showing signs of magic—light magic, one of the rarest kinds. It wasn’t flashy like elemental magic, which people used to control fire or water, but it had its own power. Healing. Purification. The kind of magic that made people sit up and take notice.

And notice they did. Word spread fast in small towns, and soon enough, Tommy was whisked away to the capital of the Antarctic Empire. No goodbyes. No warning. He was just… taken. From his home, his friend, everything he knew.

Why? Because he matched the description of the lost prince.

The one who’d been missing since birth, stolen from the royal family. The pieces clicked together in Sapnap’s mind. Tommy wasn’t just an ordinary kid with magic—he was the key to the empire’s future. But the royal family didn’t tell him that right away. No, they hired him as a healer, probably wanting to break the news gently.

Sapnap tried to remember more, but things were hazy. He knew Tommy bonded with the royal family. Knew that after twenty chapters of healing and awkward family dinners, they finally told him the truth.

And that’s when Dream entered the picture. The antagonist. The crown prince of Essempi, a rival kingdom.

Sapnap shook his head. He couldn’t remember all the details, but one thing was clear: Dream wasn’t just any antagonist. He was the prince of a powerful kingdom—and Tommy’s enemy.

Just as he was starting to panic, the door creaked open. A woman dressed in a long, elegant gown stepped inside, her expression soft but formal.

“Oh, you’re awake, little one,” she said in a sweet voice, walking over to the crib. She smiled down at him, but her eyes were distant, like she wasn’t really seeing him. Sapnap forced himself not to cringe.

Great, he thought. I’m stuck in a body that probably can't even talk yet. He let out a small, frustrated huff, which the woman apparently took as a baby’s sigh of contentment.

“You’re going to make the emperor so proud,” she whispered, brushing his hair back. “Our little prince.”

Prince, he thought. Right. I’m the prince of the Nether.

But that didn’t matter. Because if this was really his second chance, then he was going to change things. No matter what.

Chapter Text

Waking up as a baby in a completely new world had been strange at first, but Sapnap quickly adjusted. This wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t disoriented anymore. In fact, he was starting to feel oddly… at home. The strange, dark beauty of the Nether—the fiery rivers of lava, the blackstone walls—had a way of growing on him.

He knew he’d have to come to terms with his new identity as the prince of the Nether. Sure, he still had the memories of his past life, but that didn’t change the fact that this world was now his reality. As time went on, his memories of the novel were growing fuzzier, but there were still enough familiar elements for him to navigate… for now.

The door to his room opened, and BadBoyHalo stepped in, his presence commanding but gentle. "Good morning, my little prince," he said, a warm smile tugging at his lips. Sapnap watched him approach, still amazed that this fearsome-looking man was his new father.

BadBoyHalo bent down and carefully scooped Sapnap up, cradling him in his arms. "Today," he began, walking them out of the room, "you’ll learn a bit more about the world you’ll one day rule."

Sapnap perked up. While he had a decent sense of the Nether from the novel, he knew there was so much more he needed to understand. Especially now that he was actually living here.

They moved through the dark corridors of the castle, the glow of lava casting long shadows on the blackstone walls. BadBoyHalo carried Sapnap easily, his steps slow and steady as they passed by magma streams that pulsed like the veins of the Nether itself.

"The Nether is unlike the other realms," BadBoyHalo began, his voice thoughtful as they turned down a new hallway. "It’s a place of fire and stone, but also of strength. Those who live here have adapted to the harshness of the environment. We thrive where others would falter."

Sapnap listened carefully, his eyes widening at the sight of the flowing lava below the narrow bridge they crossed. He vaguely remembered reading about how dangerous and inhospitable the Nether seemed to outsiders, but living here, he could see the beauty and power that BadBoyHalo spoke of.

"You see, in the Overworld," BadBoyHalo continued, "people tend to think of the Nether as a place of chaos. They fear it, because they don’t understand it. To them, we’re little more than monsters lurking in the dark." His tone darkened slightly, but there was no malice—just a resigned acceptance. "But that’s their loss. They’ll never know the strength that comes from embracing this place."

The prejudice that the Overworld held toward the Nether was something Sapnap remembered well from the novel. In the Overworld, the people of the Essempi and Antarctic empires viewed the Nether with suspicion and fear, as if anyone who lived here was a danger. It was one of the reasons tensions between the realms had always been high.

As they entered a large chamber, the heat from the nearby lava streams intensified, but BadBoyHalo didn’t seem to mind it. He carried Sapnap effortlessly, making his way toward a large window overlooking the heart of the Nether. Below them, vast lava lakes stretched out, their orange-red glow filling the space with an eerie, yet comforting light.

"Here," BadBoyHalo said, stopping at the window and shifting Sapnap so he could see the full view. "This is our kingdom. The Nether stretches far and wide, filled with fortresses, caverns, and resources that you won’t find anywhere else. Our people are resilient, living alongside the lava and the fire. It’s in our nature."

Sapnap stared out at the landscape. It was nothing like the Overworld, where green forests and clear rivers dominated the scenery. But there was something raw and powerful about the Nether. This was a realm of survival, of embracing fire rather than fleeing from it.

BadBoyHalo continued, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. "As prince of the Nether, you’ll need to understand how everything here works. The heat, the stone, the magma—they all have a role to play. Even the creatures that roam these lands, like the ghasts and blazes, are part of our world’s balance."

Sapnap nodded—or at least, he tried to. He was still in a baby’s body, after all, so it was more of a vague wiggle. But BadBoyHalo chuckled, seeming to understand.

"You’re still young, but in time, you’ll learn how to harness the strength of the Nether," BadBoyHalo said, his tone softening again. "And when you do, no one—not even those in the Overworld—will be able to deny your power."

There was a pause as they both gazed out at the vastness of the Nether. Sapnap felt a mix of awe and nervousness. He was supposed to be a fighter, someone strong and formidable. But he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. Yet, in this moment, seeing the world he was meant to rule over, something inside him stirred. Maybe he could become the person he was supposed to be.

"You were born from this world," BadBoyHalo said quietly. "Even though I found your egg abandoned, you are still a child of the Nether. And that means this is your destiny, Sapnap. One day, you’ll protect this realm—just as I have."

Sapnap blinked up at him, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He had read about BadBoyHalo being a benevolent ruler, but experiencing it firsthand was different. There was no doubt in his mind that BadBoyHalo genuinely cared about him, adopted or not.

But still… Sapnap couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it all. The thought of growing up in this dangerous, fiery world, of becoming a warrior, of one day meeting Dream and getting tangled up in the novel’s plot—it all felt like a lot to take in.

BadBoyHalo seemed to sense his unease. He smiled gently, brushing a hand through Sapnap’s hair. "But you don’t have to worry about that yet," he said softly. "For now, all you need to do is grow and learn. I’ll be here to guide you."

Sapnap relaxed at that, settling into the comfort of his father’s arms as they stood together, watching the kingdom he was destined to rule.

Chapter Text

Time had a funny way of passing in the Nether. Maybe it was the constant heat, or the fact that the sky was forever cast in a reddish glow. Whatever the reason, years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye.

Now, years later, Sapnap had grown from an infant prince to a proper young noble—or as "proper" as he could manage, considering the endless royal lessons he endured. Royal life wasn’t all lava lakes and fireballs like he’d first imagined. No, most of it had been far less exciting.

It all began with tutoring.

Every morning, he was awakened by the sharp knock of a royal attendant. Before the heat of the Nether’s infernal sun could properly seep through the thick obsidian walls, he was seated at his desk, quill in hand, studying topics that ranged from Nether history to politics, strategy, and even the obscure arts of diplomacy. It didn’t take long for Sapnap to realize that being a prince wasn’t about swinging a sword and leading battles—at least, not until you knew when and why to swing that sword in the first place.

His etiquette lessons were perhaps the most exhausting. He was taught how to sit, stand, and speak in a way that exuded both authority and grace, all while trying to keep his temper in check—a temper that flared every time he had to endure another lecture on the correct way to bow to a foreign envoy.

Then there were the endless royal dinners, formal affairs where Sapnap was expected to eat in silence while watching his father entertain emissaries from the Overworld and the occasional rare visitor from the End. It was during these moments that he felt the weight of his title most acutely. He wasn’t just a child; he was the prince of the Nether, and he had to be perfect.

But it wasn’t all stiff dinners and endless tutoring sessions. BadBoyHalo had made sure Sapnap had time to explore the world outside the palace—a privilege not many in the Nether could claim. He’d been taken to the fiery fields beyond the capital, shown the lava rivers that twisted like molten serpents through the land, and visited the towering fortresses built of netherrack and Blackstone.

Though he loved the freedom of these excursions, Sapnap couldn’t help but notice the way the citizens of the Nether looked at him—some with awe, others with suspicion. He was their prince, yes, but he was also different, in a way he couldn’t quite define. And he knew that the Overworld's disdain for Nether folk ran deep; BadBoyHalo had been careful to remind him of that prejudice whenever they discussed the outside world. The people of the Overworld would never see him as a true equal, no matter how well he learned his royal duties.

Still, Sapnap had one reprieve from the pressures of being a prince. Dance.

At first, it had been something his tutors recommended to improve his footwork—“necessary for combat,” they’d said—but Sapnap had quickly realized that he actually enjoyed it. In the evenings, when the lessons were finally over, he would slip into a quiet part of the palace and practice. The rhythm of his feet on the floor, the way his body moved in sync with the beat of music he created in his head—it was liberating.

It was one of the few things that took his mind off of the endless expectations.

“It helps with footwork,” he would say if anyone asked. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. Dance was an escape, a way to feel free in a world where everything else felt rigid and controlled.

Today, however, things were going to change. Today, Sapnap would begin his combat training. He’d been preparing for this day for months, practicing his stance, building up his endurance, and learning the basic forms of martial combat. But now he would begin training with real weapons—and that, he hoped, would be the key to finally feeling like he belonged.

He was standing by the window in his chambers, lost in thought, when the familiar sound of BadBoyHalo’s footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door opened with a quiet creak, and the Nether King stepped inside, a warm smile on his face.

“Excited for your first day of training?” BadBoyHalo asked, crossing the room.

Sapnap looked up from the window, where the same lava lakes and blackstone cliffs he’d seen his entire life stretched out before him. He had stopped finding them awe-inspiring years ago. "Yeah," he said, trying to muster more enthusiasm than he felt, "but also kind of nervous."

BadBoyHalo’s eyes softened as he approached. “You’ll do just fine. The Nether is in your blood, Sapnap. You’ll find your weapon soon enough.”

Sapnap stood and began to stretch, trying to work out the nervous energy from his muscles. "What if I don’t?" he asked quietly. "What if I don’t live up to what’s expected of me?"

BadBoyHalo knelt down, his hand resting gently on Sapnap’s shoulder. "You will," he said with certainty. "Every prince struggles before they find their path. The weapon will come to you. You don’t need to rush it. Focus on learning, and the rest will follow."

There was something about the calm confidence in BadBoyHalo’s voice that always made Sapnap’s worries feel smaller. He nodded, drawing strength from his father’s unwavering faith in him. "Okay," he said, feeling a little better. "I’ll try my best."

BadBoyHalo rose, giving Sapnap’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning toward the door. "But before we get into weapons, there's something else we need to discuss," he said, gesturing for Sapnap to follow. "I think it’s time you learned more about the Nether."

They made their way down the wide, echoing hallways of the palace, moving toward one of the smaller study chambers. The walls, lined with shelves crammed full of old books and scrolls, seemed to close in around them as they entered. Sapnap took a seat at the long wooden table, watching as BadBoyHalo selected a scroll and unfurled it in front of him.

“The Nether isn’t the only realm out there,” BadBoyHalo began, his tone shifting to something more serious. “I know you’ve heard stories, but it’s time you learned the truth.”

Sapnap listened intently as his father spoke about the three realms—the Overworld, with its rolling green hills, deep oceans, and seemingly endless skies; the Nether, his home, a land of flames, fire, and a harsh beauty all its own; and the mysterious End, a place Sapnap had only heard whispers about, a dimension of endless voids and towering obsidian structures.

“The Overworld,” BadBoyHalo explained, “has always looked down on the Nether. They see us as different, as if the heat of our home has scorched our souls. But we are just as strong—stronger, even, in many ways. You need to understand that prejudice exists, Sapnap, and that it is something you will face as you grow into your role.”

Sapnap sat in silence, absorbing the weight of his father’s words. He had known there were tensions, but hearing it laid out so plainly felt different. “Does that mean they’ll never accept me?” he asked.

BadBoyHalo shook his head. “Acceptance isn’t something you wait for, Sapnap. It’s something you earn. And sometimes, it’s something you have to fight for.”

The room fell quiet, the only sound the crackling of a distant fire in the hearth. Sapnap felt a resolve harden inside him—a determination to prove that he belonged, both to himself and to the world that would judge him. Combat training was just the beginning, but he was ready to take that first step.

“Now,” BadBoyHalo said, his tone lightening, “let’s head to the training grounds. It’s time to see what you’re made of.”

Sapnap stood, a flicker of excitement finally replacing the anxious knot in his stomach. Whatever the future held, he was ready to face it head-on.

Chapter Text

BadBoyHalo led Sapnap to the training grounds, the heavy iron gates swinging open to reveal a wide courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of practice—wooden swords clashing, armor clanking, and instructors barking commands to rows of trainees. Sapnap’s eyes widened at the sight of it all. He had been to the courtyard before, but only as a spectator. Today, he was here to train.

“Remember,” BadBoyHalo said, resting a comforting hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, “you don’t have to be perfect. This is just the beginning.”

“I know,” Sapnap replied, swallowing hard, but the nervous energy bubbling inside him started to turn into determination. He squared his shoulders, nodding. “I’m ready.”

Grim, the seasoned instructor who would be overseeing his training, approached with a stern nod. “Alright, young Prince,” he said, handing Sapnap a training sword. “We’ll start with the basics.”

They began with footwork, moving slowly over the cracked, sun-warmed ground. It was familiar in a way Sapnap hadn’t expected—like the quick steps and fluid movements he practiced in his nightly dances. His body naturally found a rhythm as Grim drilled him on how to move with balance and precision.

“You’re light on your feet,” Grim commented, his tone surprised. “Keep that up. It’s a good trait.”

Sapnap grinned. Dancing might not be the most typical hobby for a prince, but here, it gave him an unexpected advantage. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud as he continued to dodge Grim’s feints and mock attacks with ease, his feet moving almost instinctively.

Hours flew by, the sun climbing high and then dipping back toward the horizon. By the time they moved on to actual sword drills, Sapnap’s muscles ached, but he wasn’t about to stop. He needed to prove himself—not just to Grim, but to himself.

It was during a particularly intense series of blocking drills that it happened. Grim swung a heavy wooden blade toward Sapnap’s side, and as Sapnap raised his sword to parry, a strange sensation washed over him. His arm tingled, and for a split second, his blade seemed to catch the light in a way that didn’t make sense—a brief, ember-like glow ran along its edge.

Grim froze, his eyes wide. “What... was that?”

Sapnap’s heart pounded. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered, staring down at his practice sword. The glow was gone, leaving behind only the usual dull wood. “It just happened.”

“Try it again,” Grim ordered, his voice a mix of caution and curiosity. But when Sapnap swung the blade a second time, nothing happened. He felt normal—if a little shaken.

“Hmm,” Grim muttered, eyeing Sapnap with renewed interest. “We’ll keep an eye on that.”

Training wrapped up soon after, and Sapnap returned to his room, muscles aching but mind racing. The faint glow on his sword had been like nothing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t get it out of his head. As he lay in bed that night, he remembered one of the stories BadBoyHalo had told him—a tale of ancient warriors who could tap into the power of the Nether in times of great need.

Could it be... magic? It seemed impossible. Magic was a rare and unpredictable thing, even in the Nether, and most of it was tied to the land, not the people. But the memory of that glow wouldn’t leave him alone.

The next day, when he was back in the training grounds, he couldn’t resist asking Grim about it. “Have you ever seen anything like... what happened yesterday?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Grim glanced at him, then shook his head. “Not often. Magic in the Nether is elusive, Prince. But if you do have some spark of it, it will make itself known again.”

When Sapnap returned to the castle that evening, BadBoyHalo was waiting for him in the library, a stack of scrolls spread out on the long, polished table. “I heard about your training,” BadBoyHalo said, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Grim told you?” Sapnap asked, his face heating up with embarrassment. He half-expected a reprimand, but his father just smiled.

“He mentioned that something unusual happened,” BadBoyHalo said, his tone light. “But we won’t worry about that now. Instead, I thought you should start learning more about our world—about the Nether, the Overworld, and the End.”

Sapnap’s eyes widened. “You mean... the three realms?”

“Yes,” BadBoyHalo said, nodding. “If you are to understand your place here, you need to know what exists beyond our borders. The Nether is a place of fire and stone, where emotions are raw, and power can be unpredictable. The Overworld, on the other hand, is a land of endless skies, forests, and oceans. The people there often look down on us, seeing the Nether as something to fear.”

“Because they don’t understand it?” Sapnap guessed.

“Exactly,” BadBoyHalo replied, leaning forward. “And the End... well, that’s another story. It’s a realm of shadows and secrets, a place even we don’t fully understand. Each realm has its own magic, its own mysteries. If you’re ever going to explore them, you’ll need to know their history.”

Sapnap listened intently, soaking up every word as BadBoyHalo described the unique traits of each realm—the way Nether fortresses were built to withstand the heat, the Overworld’s grand cities and kingdoms, and the End’s strange, floating islands, shrouded in legends of ancient power.

They talked late into the night, and Sapnap’s curiosity only grew. His thoughts kept drifting back to the flicker of power he’d felt during training, and he wondered if it had something to do with the Nether’s unpredictable magic.

As the embers in the fireplace died down, BadBoyHalo finally closed the last book and smiled. “There’s still much for you to learn, but I think you’ve made a good start.”

“Thank you,” Sapnap said, feeling more connected to the Nether—and to his father—than he ever had before. He knew there were challenges ahead, but now, he felt ready to face them. Not just because he was the prince, but because he was beginning to understand the world he belonged to.

Chapter Text

The training grounds were vast, even more than Sapnap had realized in the flickering torchlight. Tall stone walls surrounded the sandy arena, creating a secluded space for warriors to hone their skills away from the palace’s prying eyes. Tonight, however, only he and his father occupied it. A faint breeze stirred the warm Nether air, carrying the scent of sulfur from the lava rivers just beyond the walls.

BadBoyHalo stood in the center of the grounds, his gaze focused and intent as he watched Sapnap approach. “Training isn’t just about raw strength,” he said. “Strength is valuable, yes, but discipline—control—that’s what makes a warrior.”

He gestured to a rack lined with wooden weapons. “Choose one,” he instructed. “We’ll start by seeing what feels natural.”

Sapnap eyed the weapons, feeling the weight of the moment. His hand first landed on a sword, long and heavy, but as he gave it a swing, it wobbled in his grip. He tried a few other blades before settling on a short dagger. It felt light in his hand, almost like an extension of his own arm. He gave it a few test swings, satisfied with the balance.

“Good choice,” his father nodded. “Let’s begin with the stance.”

The next hour passed in a blur of movements and corrections. His father guided him through the basics, showing him how to plant his feet and keep his posture steady. Each time Sapnap swung the dagger, his father would adjust his arm or tap his foot to remind him of his balance. It was challenging, far more than Sapnap expected, but there was a thrill to it, too—a satisfaction in learning how to control each movement.

But as they continued, a faint frustration began to build. No matter how focused he became, he couldn’t summon the mysterious glow he’d felt before, the one he had experienced briefly when his father handed him the blade. Now, it felt like any ordinary dagger, nothing magical about it at all.

His father must have sensed his frustration because he called a break, leading Sapnap to a stone bench on the edge of the grounds. He handed over a flask of water, and Sapnap took a long drink, letting the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.

“Why is it so difficult?” Sapnap asked, breaking the silence. He glanced at the weapon rack and then back at his father. “I thought magic would just… happen.”

BadBoyHalo chuckled softly. “Magic is rarely that simple. It requires patience and focus. It’s something you grow with, bit by bit.”

Sapnap nodded, letting the words sink in. He glanced around the training grounds, observing more of the details he’d missed before. There was a quiet beauty to the Nether, he realized. The glow of redstone embedded in the stone walls pulsed softly, casting the whole area in a warm, reddish light. The air was thick, yes, but alive with energy.

“Father,” he began hesitantly, “why don’t the people from the Overworld… like the Nether?”

BadBoyHalo’s expression softened, a shadow passing over his eyes. “The Overworld sees the Nether as something wild and untamed. They look at our fires, our dark landscapes, and only see danger.” He paused, considering his words. “Sometimes, it’s easier to fear something than to understand it. And in the Nether, we do have some… different customs, things they might not be used to.”

Sapnap felt a pang of frustration. “So they judge us just because we’re different?”

“People often do,” his father replied, his tone gentle but firm. “But remember, Sapnap, your strength isn’t for proving them wrong. It’s for protecting the ones you care about, the people of the Nether who see you as one of their own.”

The words resonated with Sapnap, and for a moment, he felt a deep connection to the land around him. His gaze drifted back to the weapon rack, but his father had another idea. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a small, dark crystal, about the size of a coin. It gleamed faintly in the Nether’s dim light.

“This is a soul shard,” his father explained, holding it out. “It can react to magic, but only if you concentrate. I want you to focus on it and see if you can channel your energy.”

Taking the shard in his hand, Sapnap felt a chill spread across his palm. He closed his eyes, tuning out the sounds around him, focusing only on the faint hum of energy he could sense within the shard. At first, it was just a dull warmth, but as he steadied his breathing and focused on his heartbeat, the shard grew warmer, almost as if responding to his thoughts.

In his mind, he pictured the shard glowing, imagined it pulsing with his own heartbeat. A slow warmth built in his chest, spreading through his arm and down to his fingers. He opened his eyes, and there, faint but unmistakable, was a dim glow surrounding the shard, flickering like a tiny ember.

BadBoyHalo’s eyes lit up, a proud smile breaking across his face. “See that? That’s your magic. It may not seem like much now, but you’ve already taken the first step.”

Sapnap grinned, feeling a surge of pride. The shard’s glow was small, but it was his. His own strength. His own magic.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, though,” his father added with a smirk. “Tomorrow, we’ll start some more advanced drills, both for your footwork and to test that magic of yours. But for now, you should get some rest. Magic can take a lot out of you.”

As they walked back to the palace, Sapnap felt a thrill of excitement for the first time. This realm, this life—it held challenges, but also possibilities he’d never considered before.

Chapter Text

With a nod of permission from his father, Sapnap slips into the crowd, a grin tugging at his lips. Tonight, he was here simply as himself—no titles, no formalities, just a kid excited for a night of fun at the festival.

BadBoyHalo hadn’t needed much convincing. He had given Sapnap a quick reminder to stay safe and stick to his training schedule, but he knew how much his son had been looking forward to a night of freedom. So here Sapnap was, slipping through festival booths, pulling his hood a little lower over his head, just in case.

Just as he began to browse the game booths, a small, freckled boy bumped into him, nearly stumbling back. “Hey!” the boy said, glancing up. His eyes were wide and curious, but he looked just a bit lost.

“Whoa there! You alright?” Sapnap asked, steadying the boy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m Eryn,” the boy replied, brushing himself off with a serious expression that didn’t quite match his young age. “I’m here alone, but I know my way around.” He puffed his chest a bit, clearly determined to look brave.

Sapnap stifled a chuckle. “Nice to meet you, Eryn. How about we stick together, just in case? This place is pretty big.”

Eryn’s face lit up, and he gave a quick nod. “Yeah! I can show you all the cool stuff,” he said eagerly, tugging Sapnap toward the game booths.

They began with a ring toss, where Eryn’s fierce determination was only rivaled by his... lack of aim. The rings bounced every which way, but Sapnap cheered him on all the same, even showing him a trick or two. “Like this, see?” Sapnap tossed a ring, landing it neatly around a peg.

Eryn’s jaw dropped. “Whoa! I wanna do it like that!” he said, trying again with comical focus. Eventually, he succeeded, earning himself a small glowstone pendant, which he wore proudly.

After the games, they wandered to a food stall where Eryn’s eyes grew wide at the sight of spicy, grilled mushrooms and fire-dusted skewers. “Ever had one of these?” Sapnap asked, handing him a skewer. Eryn took a huge bite, his eyes watering from the spice, but he managed to give a brave nod.

Throughout the night, Eryn’s chatter filled the silence as they explored every corner of the festival grounds. At one point, he proudly showed Sapnap how he could skip over small, bubbling lava pools—a game Sapnap joined, both of them laughing as they challenged each other to jump wider gaps.

As the night grew late, they found a spot on a grassy hill to watch the fireworks. Eryn leaned against Sapnap, exhausted but still brimming with excitement. The first firework shot up, a bright arc that burst into a thousand fiery sparks, lighting up the sky.

“I’m going to be a knight one day, you know,” Eryn said quietly, his gaze fixed on the sky.

“Yeah? You seem brave enough already,” Sapnap replied, smiling. “A knight needs courage—and someone who doesn’t give up. You’ve got both.”

Eryn’s eyes gleamed, and he glanced up at Sapnap with a small smile. “Really?”

“Really. Keep going, Eryn. I’ll be watching for you out there someday,” Sapnap said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As they headed back to the festival’s edge, Sapnap couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for the young boy with big dreams. He knew, deep down, that their paths might cross again. For tonight, though, he was grateful to have been a part of Eryn’s adventure—and to have shared in a little of his own.