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Yet another round has started. This time, he wasn’t included. Neither was Elliot. Upon his suggestion, they’ve all been grouping up before each round to tell who is left behind. This started as soon as Dusekkar joined the freight.
He can tell that the survivors are going to struggle with this round. Both sources of healing are absent. More deaths are bound to happen than usual. Possibly even a loss.
And yet, he can’t get his mind off of the newest addition to the survivor’s situation. The one he knew very well before all this. Or… at least he thought he did.
Taph.
The demolitionist-… no. Vigilante. The vigilante seemed to avoid everyone. No matter who they were. New and, especially, old. Remaining distant from everyone, even more so than 007n7. And that’s saying something. But, it seemed like… like Taph avoided him the most.
Builderman can’t help but wonder why.
Why does Taph avoid him?
What happened to Taph before coming here?
Why had Taph gone rogue?
Why did Taph steal from him?
“Doom…” Builderman looks up from his stacks of papers in front of him. Tapping them against the desk he and the other two admins rest at. Readjusting the stack into a neat and tidy one. Before placing them back down carefully. “When’s anyone goin’ t’ be good enough?”
His lead moderator leans back in his chair, resting his feet onto the long desk. Causing it to shake and scatter the neatened pile he just placed down. Builderman groans before moving to reorganize the files again. “When we get someone good enough.”
“You’ve rejected everyone so far!” The last admin spoke up, hand moving through the air to exemplify his point. Wings growing in wingspan, opposing to outsiders, but not them. Not anymore. “This is your idea! And yet, everyone who we think is ‘good enough’ isn't to you!” Telamon shouts, glaring down at the moderator.
Doombringer barks out a short and aggressive laugh. “We’re searching for someone to lead. Not follow like a lost dog.” He kicks off the table, only to lean against it with his elbow firmly planted on it. Looking across the table to the god. “And all of them are just stray puppies with no experience. Only looking to work under shortie right here.”
Builderman slaps at Doom’s hand, which was lingering above him, pointing directly downwards. “I can fire you in an instant, rememb’r that.” He glares. A sigh swiftly followed.
The CEO once more looks at the stack of papers, now cleanly put together. Instead of placing it down, he holds it out, wrists resting against the desk. The other admins look at the next applicant’s paper.
‘Epitaph.’
That’s it. No last name, no birth certificate. Nothing. Absolutely no background to be found within the records. Just the name.
But is it even their real name?
“Epitaph?” The god asks with a hint of confusion and an undertone of disgust. Telamon never quite liked anything related to death, despite being the ruling presence of the Heights, and its constant sword fights that occur there. No deaths actually happen on the ascended plane, their respawn code works wonders. But Tela is still not a fan. “That it?”
“Strong name.” Doom interjects, nodding to, what seems to be, his own thoughts.
Builderman, once again, sighs. Better than nothing, to be honest. If they already have some part of Doombringer’s approval, then it's worth a try. The CEO clicks a red button located in the middle of him and Telamon. “Bright, could you send in Epitaph?”
A feminine voice comes through the speakers not that far above the button. One from yet another god, only hidden. Disguised as a robloxian. “You got it!” She cheerily replies before the line goes dead.
“Telamon doesn’t get why Brighteyes takes that form.” The god mutters to himself. He tries to be quiet, but can never be. Everything about him screams ‘Look at me!’ Even the way he talks. Loud, commanding, and incapable of being quiet.
“Because she’s better at fitting in with the rest of them than you are, bird brain.” Doombringer smugly retaliates, looking above Builderman due to his larger stature.
“Telamon wasn’t TALKING to you!” The guardian of the Heights shouts back. Wings and feathers spread out for the imitation factor. Doom only laughs at the attempt.
Before either of them could speak up once more, Builderman interjects. “We are supposed to be professional. It’s our duty as leaders to lead by example. Your constant bickering isn’t helping.” He presses at the bridge of his nose. Lifting his yellow and cyan colored hard hat up with his knuckles.
A knock is then sounded from beyond the door. As it opens, it reveals someone covered in robes. The International Order of Buildmasters, to be exact. The kind only given to those who had been recognized by one of the admins for whatever reason.
As well as a pair of black, golden-tipped wings dawning their back and head. Builderman’s seen a fair share of wings himself, if the oversized bird besides him means anything. These wings are too delicate and small to fully sustain Epitaph in the air. Yet, they seem sturdy enough to withstand damages. The CEO can see some remains of dirt and rock stuck in between the feathers. Kind that isn’t from Robloxia itself, but from explosion testing or minigame experiences. Clearly they know how to use explosives, to some capacity.
They stop in the doorway for a moment, seemingly star struck. Before hesitantly moving further into the room. Taking a seat in the chair opposite the three Roblox H.Q. workers.
“Good evenin’, Epitaph.” The CEO holds his hand out. The interviewee’s wings flutter for a moment. Remaining still besides that action. Before they adamantly take his hand, giving a firm handshake while nodding.
“Let’s get started then.” Builderman softly smiles. They sure have a personality already.
The interview commences. Epitaph responded in only signs, which only he and Doombringer could understand. The interviewee still remained uptight during the whole thing, radiating a sense of awestruck and joy. They answered each question well, perfect almost. Has had experience with explosives for years. Though, they did seem more on the timid or even follower side. Not quite what Doom seems to be looking for.
When Epitaph left, Doom immediately slammed his fist onto the table. The object creaking from the force, one step away from breaking. “He’s perfect!”
“How?!” Telamon turns with a mix of shock and aggression. “They’re a wimp! The opposite of what you say you are looking for! Not to mention mute!”
“Tela…” Builderman glares at the deity. “There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ mute. Mute, blind, deaf, anythin’. They are still people. People like me and Doom.”
“You’re not even Robloxian!” Telamon retaliates. “You can’t group yourself with those lowlifes!”
“Watch who you’re calling ‘lowlife,’ lowlife.” Doom growls, raising up from his seat. Fists clenched and posture ready.
“Telamon’s the opposite of a lowlife! Telamon could take you out in one hit!” Telamon also stands, readying himself. Hand hovering over the handle of his favorite sword, the Illumina. Wings spread wide, intimidating.
“Not enough to kill, chick.” The moderator squints his eyes, a sly and menacing smirk plastered on his face. Telamon makes a low growl, rumbling the ground beneath all of them. He draws his sword before making a jump towards Doom. The moderator reels back his fist, ready to launch a punch. These two will never stop fighting, will they.
Both of them are paused in the air. Red, blue, and green arrows form from their chest. A faint light blue outline encases their whole body. Builderman groans. “Will you two act RESPONSIBLE f’r once!?” He held out his hand. A floating black cube above it. The words “Building Tools by F3X” are plastered on all sides.
“When I let you both down… DON’T fight like children. You two are bett’r than this.” Builderman exasperates. He’s sick and tired of these two constantly devolving into fights over the most pettiest of things. Especially when they should be discussing hiring the new candidates for their new Demolition Division.
The CEO lets the two of them down. Telamon grumbles before taking his seat again. Arms crossed and wings refined back to their resting position. Doombringer looked over at Telamon with a sly expression. Builderman glared at the moderator, causing Doom to roll his eyes and cross his arms as well.
They need this new work force. It was Doom who suggested it in the first place. They needed to deal with the overabundance of games that have gotten too lax. Unpolished and unkept code, providing safe environments for unsafe individuals – such as predators and racists – and promoting disrespectful and harming messaging. They need a way to rid these experiences from the platform.
“Good.” Builderman looks between the two pouting admins. They act just like kids do. “Tho’ghts on Epitaph? One at a time.” He looks to Doombringer first. Given that he was the one to speak up about his preferences leaning towards the possible new recruit.
“He’s strong willed. Could use some confidence, but he can get that in time. Analytical. Experienced. I can help him grow into a confident leader.”
Builderman nods. Epitaph does seem like that type. Shy, awkward at times, yet also confident and experienced. He would work well under the right influences and leadership.
He turns to Telamon next. The god starts to speak. “He’s mute, for one. How is he going to communicate with the other demolitionists we hire? They’re far too submissive and nervous. Wouldn’t be a good fit as a leader. Can’t see it.”
Being mute is not a disadvantage and a reason to not hire someone. That’s discrimination. Roblox Headquarters prides itself on diversity and community. That would not be a viable excuse, and he hopes Telamon knows this. Besides, they can make it a requirement that the demolitionists learn at least some sign language. Especially if they lose their hearing by working with explosives so close to them.
“Well,” Builderman now takes over the conversation, “I see potential. Epitaph’s gonna go places. I think they’re a good fit.”
Telamon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Builderman ignores this and turns to Epitaph’s file. Writing a line under the name, amidst the empty white space.
‘Hired.’
These questions and memories constantly flooded his head whenever he thought of the castigator. He’s always wondered about these inquiries. His previous demolitionist never seemed to leave. Taking residence within his thoughts like they belonged there.
Those thoughts feel both welcoming, but also depressing. He wants to know why. He wishes things never changed. He missed all the times he saw the vigilante. Not on any wanted posters, but in person. Alive. Working under him. Standing next to him. Holding his han-
The thump of someone returning from a round pre-maturely sounds from behind him. Builderman turns to face who the unfortunate survivor was that died first. Only to see the trail of black and yellow exiting the cabin.
Elliot walked out from the dining area, which happens to have a hidden compartment under the stairs leading to an underground kitchen. “Who was that?” He asked, pizza cutter in hand. Covered in splotches of flour and pizza sauce. Clearly making some for both the next round and dinner.
“It was Taph…” Builderman continues staring out to the opened door. He can’t… He can’t stop thinking about Taph. Even before they came here. When he was stuck here. Worry and dread filled him for the safety of the vigilante for what kind of punishment he might endure. Or had…
“I’ll… I’ll go check on him…” Builderman stands, walking towards the door. Moving slowly, hesitantly. Would Taph even like his presence? Appreciate it? Or would they run. Run away like before.
“Alright… If you’re sure. Call me if you two get hungry! You’ll be the first to get a slice!” Elliot called as Builderman closed the door. He gave a short, curt nod. Enough to tell the pizza worker that he heard them. Before closing the door.
No going back now.
Not that he wants to. He wants to know what happened. He wants to be there for Taph. He wants Taph to be alright. To confide in someone. To heal.
The realm outside the cabin was dark, quiet, oppressing. As usual. The world was clearly made out of code. Still, basic lines that barely function properly. No day-night cycle, only the oppressing darkness of the moon. No ambiance, not even a sound clip of a bug chirping. No weather either. Wind, sun, rain, all lost to time and memories.
But there is one place where water is found. Still and lifeless, but still “natural” liquid. Right where he observes Taph from afar, often from the window of the cabin. At the right angle, he can see the docks.
The place the vigilante is right now.
Builderman pauses in his stroll. Taking in how Taph looks. Truly observing.
The vigilante sits hunched over himself. Knees close to his chest, not even dangling over the water. The tips of his shoes would be able to touch the edge of the water. His posture leans over the water, but not enough to actually fall in. Black and golden-tipped wings lie limply on the wood. He wore his old outfit – uniform – he used to wear when he worked in Roblox H.Q. Those black and gold robes of the International Order of Buildmasters. Gifted to him by… No.
He shouldn’t think about that… Not now. The phantom feeling of a headache slowly fades in.
But… didn’t Taph change their outfit? Something more… menacing? He’d seen the wanted posters. They were all over Robloxia, it was hard not to. He even had to sign off on a few. He was the one to write some of the excerpts.
The real one, Builderman didn’t know. There were reports that he wore the same yellow highlights when he first fled. Then it turned into red highlights. Then an orangish-yellow with caution signs. One with blue highlights, spikes, and a cape was also recorded. Then the most prominent one. Purple highlights, caution tape mask, purple patterned cape, and a glowing purple eye. They all tended to mix together and it was never a straight answer between with one he always wore. But it was either one or all of them.
Builderman walks through the halls of the lower floors of Roblox Headquarters. Far below ground, only those close know about its existence. Followed closely behind was Taph, his best demolitionist.
“Now, Taph. What I’m gonna show ya’ is only gonna stay between the two of us. Alright?” Builderman continues walking down the winding and maze-like underground. Back turned to Taph, but a gentle tone interlaced with his voice. He trusts the demolitionist with this.
He hears the shuffling of fabrics behind him. Footsteps moving faster to catch up. Builderman can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Only few know ‘bout this place. Yer’ gonna be another one.”
With one final turn, the two of them come face-to-face with a giant bank vault. It’s a bit grand for his likings, but it was Clockwork who ordered its design. He was given creative freedom for how to keep the gear type safe. So he’s not going to judge how extravagant the robot wanted to go.
Builderman pulls out his ID, showing it to the faint glowing keypad right next to the door. It went from a dull green, to a bright one. Before turning back to that subdued color. Clicking of mechanisms comes from behind the giant vault. Its wheel turning on its own, the center of it welded a tea pot with the old Roblox logo branded on it.
The unique and stylistic “R” he created a long time ago. The more the company grew, the more it had to go modern. Dull. Boring. He misses the times it was full of imagination and creativity. Now turning into something almost lifeless, in a way.
The mechanisms open the door, revealing the interior. Fluorescent lights turn on one by one, from close to far. Along the sides of the reinforced steel walls, were gears. Not just any gears, but of the explosive variety.
The close ones are the common types. All piled together, unarmed, and organized. Fuse Bombs, Teddy Bombs, Bundles of TNT, and Firework Rockets dating back to 2009. The further back, the more rare and limited the supply was. And at the very back? The most destructive and unfinished bombs.
Builderman walks through the threshold. Making his way to the center of the vault. Taph swiftly following, looking around in amazement. Builderman can see it in their heterochromatic eyes. The yellow and purple sparkle in interest. A soft bark of a laugh makes its way through his chest.
“I can see yer’ interested in the wares. Don’t be shy, go ahead an’ explore. Just don’ go detonatin’ anythin’.” The CEO watches as Taph turns to him, the glimmer in their eyes practically blinding. Wings fluttering and flapping with restrained joy. Before they ran off, exploring every exhibit and collection of explosives that Roblox Headquarters has ever produced and collected. Old, new, tame, dangerous, unfinished, and more. All kept in one vault.
Taph acted like a kid in a candy store. Pressing his gloved hands against the protective glass on a few of the displays. All until he reached the back. Observing the most dangerous and experimental of the explosives. The demolitionist looked back to him, a questioning aura surrounding him. Doesn’t help that they did that head tilt that they always did when they were confused or questioning something. Builderman happens to let a soft smile slip.
“Those are some of th’ most dangerous bombs we’ve created. Some aren’t even finished.” He approaches his subordinate. Though, he’s like to say equal now.
Builderman pointed to the first one. A red plasma orb, surrounded by a metallic green, spiked frame. Keeping the orb secured with a holder found on the bottom, connected to the corners. “This is th’ Plasma Tripmine. Th’ predecessor to yer’ very own Subspace Tripmine.” He nudges Taph’s side with his elbow. “It vaporizes matter into pure energy. Left behin’ due to its primitive design. Plus how destructive and unstable it was t’ handle.”
He proceeds to the next one. A metallic sphere with a glowing blue interior. Only visible in between the plates of metal. Encased and protected by a thick frame with a yellow and black caution pattern on it. “Roblox's Top Secret Portable Nuclear Core, or RTSPNC for short. It’s a recent addition. We had a few test runs with it. Powerful, but unreliable. Too heavy for its own good.”
“Th’ Korblox Cascade Mine.” Builderman moves on to the blue crystal shard encased in a delicately designed cybernetic protector. “Used by high rankin’ Korblox warriors. Kept safe here to prevent more from usin’ it. Strong stuff. Able to hide underground easily.”
“Finally, we have th’ Lightyear Decimator. A tool of absolute destruction. Can erase a chunk of Robloxia right off th’ map. We only use these on rare occasions. Erasin’ experiences and terminated ones from existence. Particularly massive ones. Ones that hold an integral part to the core of Robloxia.” The blue energy orb swirls. Coalescing the compacted and condensed power it holds. All held together by thin purple energy condensers, which form its frame.
“We keep these here for the protection of the public. Most don’t know of their existence. And we prefer it to be kept that way.” Builderman looks at each one. He wishes some of these weren’t needed, or did exist. They had no influence in the creation of the Korblox Cascade Mine. The first time they encountered it, they nearly lost Tela- or, Shedletsky, from its power.
The Plasma Tripmine is left as a relic. Outdated, but history. RTSPNC was a failed experiment. The predecessor to the Lightyear Decimator. RTSPNC doesn’t need to exist, nor the abundance of it that is housed here. Only here to fill in space.
He turns to face Taph. The demolitionist stared at the explosives with an unbridled interest. Maybe even… too much interest. No. He’s just imagining it. Taph just likes learning about new bombs they didn’t know about before.
“Yer’ allowed to use the Lightyear Decimator, but only in select cases. I will tell you when yer’ able to in th’ orders. But it is set to remain here when not needed. Protection purposes.” He can see the way Taph’s multicolored eyes light up. He can’t help but smile at the enthusiasm.
“You can trust me, boss!” The demolitionist signs, before saluting to Builderman. He’s told them to stop doing that. Especially the saluting. But… It seems like he can’t get Taph to stop. Oh well. Builderman sighs before shaking his head. A soft, warm smile on his face.
He can trust Taph. Just like he is one of the other admins. Only the best for the best demolitionist a part of the Demolitionist Branch.
He decided to continue walking. Legs moving with an impossible weight. Fear gripping at his heart. Fear for the distance this would provide between them. He wants it to close. But it could very well widen, just from this single act.
He finally makes it to the edge of the dock. It seems like Taph hasn’t noticed him yet. Odd.
Builderman settles down, letting his legs dangle and swing off of the docks edge. Leaning forward a slight bit, arms pulled together in his lap. He turns his head slightly to see Taph.
The vigilante flinches. Harshly. He’s noticed how Taph always seems to flinch when he’s around. He just… doesn’t know why… Did he mess up somehow? What could he have done? It can’t… They aren’t…
Are they afraid of him…?
Builderman shakes his head. No, they can’t be. Not after everything he did for Taph. How can… How…
He should be mad though… He should be furious, devastated. Betrayed! All for the actions Taph had done against him.
And yet…
He isn’t.
Not a single bit of him feels aggression towards his past demolitionist. Only regret. Sadness. A lack of foresight.
He wasn’t there when Taph needed him most. He didn’t see the signs of a struggling employee. Of someone being manipulated. Only until it was too late. Far, far too late.
Builderman hesitantly breaks his hands apart. Slowly moving his right hand towards Taph. Carefully touching their wrist. Trying to touch his hand, but aimed slightly too far.
The reaction wasn’t one he expected. Not one bit. The vigilante flinched so hard that they nearly fell off the dock. Breathing shifting from quickened to sporadic. They started shaking.
He didn’t want this. He didn’t mean to! He retracts his hand fast, pulling it close to himself to refrain from harming the vigilante again.
Taph starts hyperventilating. Arms pulled impossibly closer to his chest. Continuously tightening and loosening his hold on the wrist that was touched. Shaking like a leaf on a windy day, about ready to fall off during the fall.
Before the backstabber brought them to their neck. Applying pressure and releasing. It doesn’t seem like they’re trying to choke themself, at least, not yet. But instead, like they are treating a wound. Making sure nothing’s wrong.
What happened to them…?
What can he do? How can he help Taph? Clearly he has an aversion to touch, even more so than before. So what can he do?
Builderman’s legs pause, forcing them to remain still from their swinging. His hands remain planted in his lap, placed between his legs, knuckles touching the wood below him. He keeps his vision from the vigilante, staring down at the still water below.
“Taph…” His voice sounds hoarse. Hesitant. Scared. He doesn’t want to mess this up more than he already has. He can’t bring himself to look at Taph. Instead, shrinking into himself as well.
“I’m…” it’s hard to get the words out. Like they are trapped in his throat. Clawing its way back down, preventing him from actually saying it. But he forces it out. “I’m sorry…”
“Lumber Tycoon 2 was found to be demolished yesterday evening by Defaultio and avid fans.”
Builderman read the newest newspaper. The world seemed to stop at that moment. He didn’t authorize Lumber Tycoon 2 to be demolished. He would never. He’s on good terms with Defaultio. That game still rakes in players. Dedicated ones at that.
”The reasoning behind its termination are unknown. Defaultio has stated that they have questioned Roblox Headquarters, but have yet to receive an answer. Many fans have been left devastated. Unsure of how to go about their days without their favorite experience to play. Some even lost years of progress in one fell swoop.
The experience’s mascot, Lumberman, is also missing. No one has seen him since before the termination. The ruins of the experience, only accessible to Defaultio, have yet to yield any results. If anyone is able to gain any traction on the whereabouts of the Lumberman, do get into contact with Defaultio at ###-###-#### or our news station at ###-###-####.
Builderman couldn’t read anymore. Lumberman… missing? What else happened?
He skimmed the rest of the passage. Mainly an interview with Defaultio and fan reactions. He hadn’t gotten anything from the developer. Odd. But there was a picture attached. It seems to be the experience itself and its aftermath.
There’s almost nothing left. A giant void left in the center of it. Only the edges remained intact, if you want to call it that. They are charred black, sloping into the skybox below. Remnants of trees left barely recognizable on the floor. Some are still burning a light blue.
This is… the effects of a Lightyear Decimatior… Only few have access. And…
A name stands out to Builderman in the newspaper. His eyes grow wide. Oh no… Quickly jumping out of his seat and running out of his office. Sprinting through the hallways of the Headquarters. Bumping into workers and admins alike. Not even bothering to apologize. Not them. Anyone but them.
He reaches the elevator, pressing the down button, pressing his ID to the scanner of the pad. Overriding the elevator’s code, allowing for him to have no interruptions while descending to the lower floors.
The doors open when he reaches the demolitionist’s floor, left underground on Doombringer's suggestion and construction. For he was in charge of where the demolitionists would be located.
Builderman runs past all the demolitionists. Some nearly dropped the explosives in their hands. But he could care less. It can’t be them. They couldn’t have betrayed his trust. It can’t-
The office is empty. Everything is left still. Oppressing. Empty. Frozen in time from the last time he’d seen it yesterday.
He isn’t here. He isn’t at work. Taph isn’t in his office.
Builderman stays at the entrance of their office. He has to be missing something. He didn’t send Taph out in any demolitions today, not yet anyways. And Lumber Tycoon 2 was never on the list. Never a possibility or at risk of termination.
If it was the Lightyear Decimator that did this…
Builderman turns and runs back the way he came. His subordinates dodged his presence this time around. All until he makes it to the elevator. Traveling even further into the depths. Further down, further under Roblox Headquarters.
Running through the winding labyrinth. Why must Clockwork make this place such a maze to traverse!
Scanning his card, he runs through the vault’s door before it fully opens. He can see it from here. No… it has to be an illusion. It can’t be real. They can’t be-
They are gone. All four. All four explosives he’s shown Taph are gone. Not a single one left. The Plasma Tripmine, RTSPNC, Korblox Cascade Mine, and, especially, the Lightyear Decimator. All gone. All stolen.
It can’t be him. It… It can’t. He would never… He won’t steal. Especially not from….
He… He can’t be gone. . .
Builderman feels his heart shatter. Filled with dread, sorrow, and helplessness. He isn’t sure why. Taph’s just one of his workers. Nothing more… So why…? Why does it hurt like he’s something else? Like the time he lost Telamon… except worse.
Surely… Surely Taph will turn himself in…? He could return to working under him. Being back with him again… right?
A numbness overcomes Builderman as he leaves the vault. Going back to the terminal, he changes the lock. Making it so that only he can access it. So that no one else can steal them again. Backstab him again. Betray his trust.
All of the most dangerous explosives, now gone. In the hands of someone he thought he could trust. Someone dangerous. Someone misunderstood.
He slowly returns to his own office. Sitting down, but barely feeling the cushion underneath him. Instead, start to write a notice. Something for the entirety of Robloxia. He doesn’t want to… but they are at large. He can’t just let them roam free…
Builderman then addresses the entirety of his coworkers and subordinates in an email. One detailing what to do now. Keep a look out for their runaway demolitionist. To bring him in for questioning and not harm him. But also… To preserve his office. No one shall go in or out of it. Everything will stay just as it was. Only he is allowed to enter. To maintain.
It’s the least he can do…
Something to remember them by…
Left waiting for Taph to come back.
He doesn’t know what to do. Helpless in this situation. He’s never been good with emotions or helping others during them. Machines and blueprints are what he’s good at.
And yet, he can’t help but feel like he wants to bring Taph into a hug. Comfort them. Be there.
But… he already tried. And this is how they reacted. He was there for Taph in the past, and they betrayed and backstabbed him. He’s trying now… and he’s only made it worse.
“I truly am sorry… for everything.” Builderman looks away from the vigilante, fully. He can’t bear to see them like this. And the way they look at him. Like he’s one of them. Like he’s a killer. Like he’s going to harm them even more than they already are.
Builderman rises to his feet. Arms wrapped around himself, protecting himself. Giving the comfort he wished to give the vigilante to himself.
He can’t will himself to move for a moment. Standing still, at the edge of planks. Tips of his shoes suspended over the air. He could easily fall into the still and unmoving waters. Taph could as well.
But he doesn’t. Instead, turning around. Making sure not to see his old demolitionist like this. He can’t comfort them. He can’t help them. He can’t do anything for them…
He hugs himself tighter. Taking the first step. Bringing distance between them once more.
Builderman pants, arms practically attached to his knees. Couched down, yet not falling over yet. His ban hammer left abandoned in front of him. He can’t reach it. It’s already a struggle just to stand. The adrenaline in his system is fleeting.
He looks up through one eye. The other was swollen and bloodied from an injury on top of his head. Through his blurry vision, he sees black and red. His opponent, Doombringer.
The moderator struts over to where the ban hammer rests. Privkus rests against his back. He also sports some injuries, but not nearly as much as Builderman does. The damage is more internal than external, unlike his.
Builderman’s black and orange hard hat is left shattered, scattered around the floor. Kicked up and tossed around like it wasn’t a part of his everyday look. Some shards remain on his head. Likely what caused the blood to flow down at first.
His jacket is left a mess. Rips, tears, wrinkles, blood stains, the works. All there to ruin what used to be his favorite article of clothing. But that’s not what he cares about now…
Doombringer starts to laugh. Low and gravelly at first. Before growing louder, crazed, manic. Proud.
The judge picks up his ban hammer. The first ever one. The most powerful one. And yet… he lost using it.
Strength depends on the one wielding it.
“Oh Builder… Weak, stupid, and gullible Builder.” Doom stares down at Builderman. A proud and triumphant grin plastered in his face. The red glow of the Banland’s lights casts his face into sharp and angular shadows. “You finally lost.”
“Wh- Why…?” The CEO grunts out, nearly faltering and falling to the floor. He’s not weak. He’s not stupid. And he is most definitely not gullible. He shouldn’t be running Robloxia if he had those traits. He built the place up with his own hands. Trying to keep the essence that it held before. Especially before he passed…
“Why I did this?” Doom asks, but Builderman knows it’s a rhetorical question. Not like he can speak up anyways. The moderator kneels down, getting into the CEO’s face. “You should know why.” He whispers, voice low.
With the last of his strength, calling upon the abilities he gave up long ago, he is able to push Doombringer away from him. Only to fall to the ground right after. Doom walks back over, standing over the CEO. “Didn’t know you still had some in you.” He mutters with crazed glee. “If only you used some earlier.”
Doom leans back down, nearing Builderman’s fallen body. The CEO tries desperately to move his limbs. But they’ve all fallen slack. He won’t – can’t – get back up. Not for a long time.
But he doesn’t have that time. No one will find him here. No one would dare venture into the Banlands.
Shedletsky has gone missing. Dusekkar has been so focused on finding a way to bring him back. He can tell the mage is hiding something. A haunted look casted over his face ever since Shedletsky’s disappearance. A little before so as well. But Dusek won’t reveal. He never does. Constantly keeping anything bothering him to himself. Until it becomes too late.
“Remember that demolitionist?” Doom drags Builderman back out from his thoughts. The topic of choice drenched him in dread. What about Taph? There's no way- He couldn’t-
“Of course you do. You kept his office sanctioned off so that only you could enter. You’re foolish for falling for him. He doesn’t miss you. I should know…” The moderator grins at the despair printed onto Builderman’s features. Soaking in every ounce of the fear, desperation, and anger that comes from the one under him. “I’m the one who influenced him to do everything.”
The reveal dragged Builderman under. Submerged in the faint and, admittedly, stupid hope he held out for the vigilante to come back to him. And everything… Everything was caused by one of his closest allies. Someone he trusted all along. Someone who he never suspected to have ulterior motives until it was far too late. When he had already lost everything.
It couldn’t have… It couldn’t have started from the moment they hired Taph… did it…? Doom was so adamant about hiring him. Having some of the qualities Doom mentioned he didn’t want to hire not even 10 minutes before the interview started.
The reason Taph grew so close. The reason he showed Taph the vault was suggested by Doombringer. Doom organized the construction and look of the Demolition Division’s floor. The reason why Taph went rogue. All the experiences affected by Taph’s demolitions.
It was all orchestrated by Doombringer.
He was a plaything. All for Doom to gain control over Robloxia.
Realization flashes past the tears flowing out of his eyes, mixing with the blood. He can feel the dangerous smile Doom makes from behind him. He wants to fight back. He wants to make sure Doombringer doesn’t win. But…
He’s too weak.
Too stupid.
Too gullible.
“Someone’s figured it out." The moderator grumbles with a deep voice, right next to Builderman’s ear. The CEO shivers. “Saves me the time from explaining it to a dead man walking. Or, should I say, dead man laying.”
“Y-You won’t get away with this, D-Doom…” Builderman struggles to get out, coughing out blood that started to fill his mouth after. He squints, hoping to see the monster that was both behind and above him.
Doombringer barks out a laugh, hysterics cutting through. “Oh Builder. Builder, Builder, Builder… I already have!” That crazed smile was apparent in his voice. “And you won’t be there to stop me.” His tone shifts quickly. Low and threatening. “Goodbye Builderman. I’m firing you… from life.”
Before he could truly react to the news, he felt something familiar strike the back of his head. Launching it directly into the dark red ground of the Banlands. His skull shatters upon the two impacts. One on the back of his head, where his hammer connected with, as well as the front of his skull as it hit into the rocks.
Then… nothing.
Peace.
Tranquility.
All for a fleeting moment. All he felt was nothing but pure numbness. A numb that was welcomed.
Only for a brain splitting headache to shoot right through his head. His hands draw up to them. Eyes burning from behind his eyelids. He lets out a groan as he crumbles to the floor, knees and elbows resting on the floor. Ears ringing.
However, amidst the white noise, a voice speaks up. One far, far too familiar. One he hadn’t thought he’d hear again. “Builder…?”
Builderman looks up so fast, turning his head in the direction of the voice. His eyes started to spin, but he could make out who it was. That white shirt, brown hair, hawk-like wings. “Sh-... ed?”
“Y-Yeah… It’s me, Builder…” The swordmaster walks over to the CEO still crouched onto the ground. Shedletsky kneels down as well. Placing one hand around Builderman’s front, the other rubbing circles around his back. “It’s me.”
Builderman’s breath caught. Stuttered. Before sobs start racking through his weak, trembling frame. He clutches onto the hand wrapped around his chest like it’s going to disappear. It might. This might be a dream. One final goodbye to the world he used to live.
Shedletsky continues to console him. Shushing him and whispering reassurances. His headache only grew worse. But… at least he found Shedletsky again.
It hurts. It hurts so bad. He doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t do anything more for Taph. He wants to do more. He liked- no, likes the vigilante.
It’s… stronger than that. Stronger than like. But… But what?
That’s one of the few things he couldn’t figure out. His true feelings regarding the vigilante. Why was Taph so important to him? Why did he want to see the other happy? Why did it make him feel the same, and even warm inside? Just seeing the shine in the other’s eyes. Their uniquely beautiful heterochromatic eyes. Two unique shades not typically found on the normal robloxian, especially not someone with heterochromia. Those bright yellow and purple eyes.
He finds himself stopping at the edge of the dock. One inch away from reaching the ground. Cementing his place away from Taph. Creating that distance himself this time. He can’t move further. He doesn’t want it to widen. He doesn’t want to lose Taph even more. He lost them once, he doesn’t want it to happen again.
All because… All because of-
That pain splitting headache’s back. The same kind that always returns when he thinks about… about him.
Builderman pulls at his hard hat, trying to lower it more than it can go. Anything to get this shattering headache to leave again. And yet, it doesn’t hurt as much as the pain in his heart does.
He hears some shuffling from behind him, just barely above the ringing in his ears. He turns around just in time to be tackled from his front. Launched backwards and onto the sand below. The back of his head hits the ground, unwanted memories flood back.
Red. Hammers. Buckets. Taph. Skull. Blood. Taph. Fire. Taph. Taph. Taph! TAPH!
The feeling of something wet soaking through his jacket pulls him back. Arms wrapped around his chest. Black and yellow robes piled on top of him. Taph.
The vigilante was crying into his chest. Shaking like a leaf. Desperately gripping onto his jacket like he was about to disappear. And, honestly? He feels the same.
Builderman carefully wraps his hands around Taph’s center, making sure to avoid the wrists and neck. Testing the waters of the vigilante’s aversion to touch. When he gets no violent reaction, he tightens the hold.
He wants this to last forever. The pain in his head retreated into a dull, almost unnoticeable pain. The comfort of holding Taph in his arms warmed his body up more than finally finding the working code to a problem he’d been facing for weeks.
He can feel as one hand lets go of his back. He subconsciously pulls the vigilante closer. Taph moves his hand in front of his chest. With an open palm, he starts spinning his hand around his chest. Fast, sporadic, and shaky movements. But he knows what they are saying. It’s not their fault. It never was.
“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysor-”
Builderman pulls Taph closer, pausing Taph’s hand mid-sign. Pressing the hand in between both of their bodies, keeping it in place. He quietly shushes Taph, leading them to rest under his head. “Shhh. It’s alright. It’s ok. It’ll be okay. It’s fine to come undone. Shhh… I got you. I got you.”
The vigilante frees his hand, bringing it back around to Builderman’s back. Firmly implanting his face into Builderman’s chest. The CEO rests his own head on Taph’s. Giving him a small kiss on the top of it. It just feels right at the moment. He doesn’t think too hard about it.
Taph finally sees him.
Taph’s with him again.
The two of them remain in each other's arms for a while. Despite all the strain and toil the two of them went through…
They are finally together.