Chapter Text
-He shoved a totem of undying in their hand.
Brought the blade down hard.
It took a while before..
POP
Spoke stopped mid battle.
Lettuce froze like he’d been caught stealing.
Flame lowered his blade, staring down.
Parrot hovered at a cautious distance.
There was something… familiar.
Wrongly familiar.
Flame squinted at the guard, then shot a narrowed glare at Lettuce.
Lettuce looked way too nervous.
“Spoke!”
Flame shouted, voice sharp, "
Get over here!”
Spoke jogged over, wiping blood from his sleeve,
“What? I can’t leave Lettuce standing too long—dude will bolt.”
Flame jerked his chin toward the guard—now only cloaked by a piece of fabric,
“Bro, something about them is ringing bells. But like i can’t place it.”
Spoke stared,
“Then take the veil off, dumbass.”
Flame blinked,
“…Oh.”
Behind them, Lettuce was inching backward like a cartoon character trying not to be seen.
Flame yanked the veil off.
It fell to the dirt like a dead thing.
Flame’s breath hitched. His whole stance froze,
“…Wemmbu?”
(yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As some of you guessed, mb you guys are getting too smart.. or i'm just too obvious!)
Spoke’s head snapped toward Lettuce immediately.
Lettuce’s composure shattered—full panic, eyes wide, legs stiff.
Because it was Wemmbu.
Or… what was left of him.
His eyes were dull, lifeless—like someone had smothered the spark out of him.
He stared up emptily, through Flame, through the world,
“What did you do to him…?”
Flame whispered, voice shaking.
Then louder, teeth bared,
“WHAT did he DO to you?”
Wemmbu didn’t blink.
Didn’t move.
Flame’s grip tightened on fragger,
“Spoke. Don’t let him escape.”
Spoke didn’t answer—not even a snark, not even a grunt.
Lettuce bolted,
“ACE! ACE!! WE’RE BLOWN—EVACUATE NOW!!”
He tripped over a root, almost ate dirt, scrambled back up.
Ace’s voice crackled back,
“Copy—getting Loppezz!”
Spoke teleported in front of him, but Lettuce juked sideways like a rabbit.
Branches snapped, leaves flew, the forest became a blur.
Then—
CRASH.
Lettuce face-planted so hard the ground probably laughed.
He tried to crawl but Spoke’s boot slammed between his shoulder blades.
He writhed.
Spoke pressed harder.
Still silent.
Still colder than ever.
Lettuce’s eyes widened.
He grabbed for his communicator with shaking fingers,
“Ace—PULL MY STASIS!”
Spoke lunged to stop him—
—too late.
Lettuce had already teleported away,
“We will find you. No matter what. Atleast i will.”
But the forest floor was already empty.
Spoke stayed there for a few seconds, jaw tight, shoulders shaking—furious at himself.
Teleporting now risked traps.
When he finally turned back, each footstep felt heavier.
Leaves cracked under his boots like bones.
He reappeared beside Flame and Parrot.
Flame didn’t even ask.
He could tell.
“He got away,”
Spoke muttered,
“Stasis crap.”
Flame’s jaw clenched so tight it clicked.
But all he did was look back at Wemmbu.
Alive.
Breathing.
But… hollow.
Parrot swallowed, voice soft,
“Should we get help?"
Flame closed his eyes,
“…Egg.”
Spoke nodded.
Flame lifted Wemmbu gently—like he was afraid he’d break.
Spoke grabbed them all and teleported.
Parrot popped in a second later, dizzy.
They landed before a building—calm, cozy, painfully normal.
Flame didn’t hesitate.
He shoved the door open.
The bell chimed in the most inappropriate, cheerful way possible.
Spoke and Parrot followed, letting the bell ring again.
Warm light.
Paintings.
A waiting area that smelled like vanilla and floor polish.
Parrot blinked, suddenly noticing Flame’s tail swishing like a nervous metronome.
Flame approached the front desk,
“Hello! How can I—”
“We need Egg. Right now.”
The receptionist stiffened.
Not many even knew Egg still existed.
“Oh—uh—yes. One moment.”
She hurried off.
Flame set Wemmbu carefully on a couch.
The cushion dipped softly,
“Lettuce,”
Flame muttered, voice low and dangerous,
“If I get my hands on him…”
He didn’t finish.
Didn’t need to.
He walked to the waiting room and set Wemmbu down carefully on a couch.
Wemmbu’s eyes remained glassy.
He barely blinked.
He wasn’t there.
Minutes ticked by.
The receptionist returned.
“If you could follow me… please.”
Spoke nodded.
Flame picked Wemmbu back up.
Parrot stayed silent but close.
They climbed the stairs behind her.
She knocked on a door.
A moment.
Then it opened.
A seraphim—human-bodied, three wings unfurled, an eye, dressed neatly.
Egg.
“Sir,”
the woman said,
“these are the four I mentioned.”
She stepped aside.
Egg scanned them, expression calm—until he saw Flame holding someone.
His face cracked open with pure alarm,
“Come in. All of you.”
They entered. He shut the door gently.
“Brother,”
Egg began, “what—”
Flame didn’t let him finish.
“We found Wemmbu.”
Egg froze.
“…Excuse me—what?”
Flame shifted Wemmbu in his arms so Egg could see.
Egg’s entire expression collapsed.
“Is that—Wemmbu?!”
Flame’s voice was steady,
“He’s here. He’s alive. But he’s not… him. We thought you could help.”
Egg slowly approached, hands trembling,
“Oh, Wemmbu…”
he whispered,
“What did they do to you?”
The room was quiet, lit only by a soft amber lantern.
Wemmbu still sat on the couch were Flame had laid him.
Awake.
Eyes open.
Breathing steady.
But gone.
Egg sat closest, legs crossed.
He didn’t look surprised.
Just worried.
“He’s… awake,”
Spoke muttered, staring at Wemmbu’s unfocused eyes.
“Awake isn’t the same as present,”
Egg corrected.
Calm. Unbothered.
As if he’d seen this countless times.
Flame leaned forward, elbows on his knees, tail flicking with restless agitation,
“Wemmbu. Hey. Look at me.”
No response.
Not even a blink.
Parrot shifted anxiously beside them,
“Is he asleep with his eyes open or—?”
“No,”
Egg said, flicking a small metal gear between his fingers,
“This is dissociation. Severe. Very practiced.”
Flame looked over sharply,
“Practiced?”
Egg shrugged,
“Thousands of years of potential trauma tend to make the mind… creative.”
Spoke winced.
Flame’s jaw tightened.
Parrot stared at Wemmbu with horrified confusion,
“He’s just… staring through you.”
“Because you’re not here to him.”
Egg gestured vaguely,
“None of us are. His brain punted him to the farthest room in the house and locked the door.”
Flame rubbed a hand over his face,
“We’ve known him for millennias. How the hell did we not find him or even know!?”
Egg finally looked up, expression unreadable.
But stayed silent.
Spoke’s voice softened, unusually gentle for him,
“Egg… how long has he been doing this? This… shutting down?”
Egg tapped the collar around Wemmbu’s neck with one finger — not cruelly, but knowingly.
“I'm not sure. But i know this collar shuts down his powers.”
Parrot blinked.
Flame bristled. “Lettuce..”
Egg didn’t deny it nor said it was true.
Wemmbu’s eyes flickered — not awareness, not recognition — just a micro-spasm, like a failing lightbulb.
Spoke leaned forward immediately,
“Wemmbu? That you?”
Nothing.
Egg shook his head,
“Don’t rush him. He’s deep.”
Flame looked between Egg and Wemmbu, desperation creeping into his tone,
“Tell us what to do. Anything.”
Egg sighed, leaning back like a tired doctor dealing with stubborn relatives,
“Talk to him calmly. No raised voices. Don’t touch him unless you want him to bolt through the ceiling. And for the love of all things holy, don’t treat him like he’s fragile porcelain brother.”
Spoke spoke softly — quieter than any of them had ever heard him.
“…Wemmbu. It’s Spoke. You’re safe. We’re here.”
Still nothing.
But his breathing hitched just slightly.
Egg noticed.
“That’s good. He hears you. He just… can’t come out yet.”
Flame exhaled shakily.
“We’ll wait. However long it takes.”
Egg gave a small nod.
Wemmbu sat perfectly still, eyes open, lost to the world.
Egg was the first to notice it.
Not the staring — that was constant — but the pattern in it changing. Wemmbu’s pupils weren’t fixed anymore.
They drifted, slow and unfocused, like he was looking at something far away instead of nothing at all.
Egg straightened slightly,
“Ah.”
Flame caught it immediately,
“What.”
“He’s cycling,”
Egg said quietly,
“Memory bleed. Happens when the mind starts loosening its grip on the lock.”
Spoke frowned,
“Is that… good?”
“It’s inevitable,”
Egg replied,
“Good or bad depends on what surfaces.”
Wemmbu’s fingers twitched.
Just barely.
A faint curl inward, nails scraping softly against the fabric of the couch.
Flame froze,
“Wemmbu?”
No response.
But his breathing changed — uneven now, shallow, like his body had remembered fear before his mind caught up.
Egg lifted a hand, “Don’t crowd him.”
Flame stopped himself mid-lean, teeth clenched.
His tail lashed once, then stilled.
Parrot swallowed hard,
“He looks like he’s about to panic.”
“He is,”
Egg said,
“Just… internally.”
Wemmbu’s shoulders tensed.
His gaze snapped slightly to the side — not at any of them, but past them.
Somewhere else.
Spoke spoke again, voice low, grounded,
“You’re not there anymore.”
No reaction.
Flame’s voice cracked despite himself,
“You’re not alone.”
That did it.
Wemmbu flinched.
A full-body recoil — sharp, instinctive — like he’d been struck without being touched.
His knees drew up slightly, shoulders hunching inward.
His eyes widened, pupils blown, breath hitching in a silent gasp.
Parrot recoiled in shock,
“Oh— oh my god—”
Egg was already moving, calm but fast.
He crouched in front of Wemmbu, careful to stay within his line of sight but not too close.
“Easy,”
Egg said gently,
“You’re safe. Nobody’s hurting you.”
Wemmbu’s lips parted.
No sound came out.
Flame felt something tear in his chest.
“Egg,”
Spoke said tightly,
“What’s happening to him?”
Egg didn’t look away from Wemmbu,
“He’s remembering without context. Pain without time. It feels current to him.”
Wemmbu’s hands rose halfway, hovering uncertainly near his collar — then froze, fingers trembling, as if touching it would make something worse.
Egg noticed that too.
“Don’t remove it yet,”
he warned quietly, without being asked.
“If we take it off while he’s like this, his power surge could retraumatize him.”
Flame’s eyes burned,
“That thing is choking him.”
“I know,”
Egg said,
“And I promise, it will come off. Just not like this.”
Wemmbu’s gaze finally shifted.
Not to Egg.
To Flame.
For half a second — just one — there was recognition.
Thin.
Fragile.
Like glass about to shatter.
Then his eyes filled with terror.
He recoiled violently, scrambling back against the couch, breath breaking into silent, frantic gasps.
His hands flew up over his head, elbows tight, posture screaming don’t hit me.
Flame shot to his feet instantly,
“No— no— I’m not—”
“Stop,”
Egg snapped, sharp for the first time,
“Don’t approach.”
Flame froze mid-step.
Spoke stood too, fists clenched at his sides,
“Wemmbu. It’s Flame. He won’t hurt you.”
Wemmbu didn’t seem to hear.
His body shook, trapped in a loop of terror carved by centuries.
His mouth moved again — trying to speak — but nothing came.
Not even a whimper.
Parrot covered his mouth, eyes glassy,
“He’s been like this for… how long?”
Egg answered quietly. “I don't know.”
Silence fell like a grave.
Egg exhaled slowly, grounding himself,
“Okay. New approach.”
He lowered himself to sit on the floor instead, cross-legged, deliberately non-threatening.
“Wemmbu,” Egg said softly,
“You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to move. Just listen.”
Wemmbu’s breathing stuttered.
Egg continued, voice steady,
“You’re in my office. The collar is still on. No one here has authority over you.”
A pause.
“You are not being tested.”
Another pause.
“You are not being punished.”
Wemmbu’s hands trembled — then lowered slightly from his head.
Egg glanced up at Flame and Spoke without turning his head.
A warning look.
Do not rush this.
Flame swallowed hard, nodding. Spoke mirrored him.
Egg returned his attention to Wemmbu,
“You survived. And I know you’re tired.”
For the first time since they’d found him not completely tho—
Wemmbu blinked.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed by him, but devastating to everyone else in the room.
Egg softened his voice further,
“Stay with us. Just a little longer.”
And this time—
Wemmbu didn’t pull away.
Wemmbu’s breathing didn’t steady right away.
It came in short, uneven pulls, like his lungs were arguing with themselves over whether it was safe to keep going.
His shoulders still shook, but the tight, defensive curl had loosened just enough to be noticeable.
Egg noticed everything,
“Good,”
He murmured,
“That’s good. You’re here.”
Flame hadn’t sat back down.
He didn’t trust himself to.
His hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone pale, claws digging into his palms.
He stayed where he was, half a step behind Egg, like a guard who didn’t know whether he was protecting Wemmbu or holding himself back.
Spoke shifted his weight, slow and careful,
“He reacted to Flame,” he said quietly.
Not accusatory.
Just stating it.
Egg nodded once,
“Familiarity can be dangerous when trauma is this old. Recognition doesn’t always mean safety to the brain.”
Flame replied,
“So he sees me and—”
“And his body remembers before his mind can,"
Egg finished,
“It doesn’t mean you hurt him. It means someone who looked at him with authority did.”
That landed like a punch.
Flame turned his face away, jaw tight.
Wemmbu’s gaze drifted again, unfocused, then snagged on something — the edge of Egg’s sleeve, the pattern on the rug, something small and real.
His fingers twitched, then pressed weakly into the cushion beneath him, as if testing whether it would still exist if he leaned on it.
Egg followed that movement,
“Grounding,” he said softly,
“That’s grounding. Good instincts. You learned that somewhere.”
Wemmbu didn’t react to the words, but he didn’t stop either.
His fingers curled, then relaxed, then curled again.
Parrot finally spoke, voice low and careful,
“Does he… know who we are?”
Egg considered it,
“He knows someone is here. Names and faces are… optional, right now.”
Wemmbu’s eyes flicked suddenly to the collar at his throat.
Not fear this time.
Resignation.
Egg’s expression changed — subtle, but sharp,
“You’re aware of it.”
Wemmbu didn’t nod.
Didn’t shake his head.
But his hand lifted again, stopping just short of touching the device, fingers trembling like they’d been trained not to cross that line.
Flame’s voice came out rough,
“They kept it on him.”
Egg closed his eye briefly,
“Of course they did.”
Spoke shifted,
“What does it do to him. Beyond the obvious.”
“It suppresses more than power,”
Egg said,
“It enforces compliance. Limits emotional spikes. Dulls resistance. Over time…”
He looked back at Wemmbu,
“…it teaches the body that fighting back is pointless.”
Wemmbu’s breathing hitched again, sharp and silent.
Egg immediately softened,
“But you’re not there anymore,”
He said gently,
“And you don’t have to fight anyone here.”
Flame took a step back instead of forward, deliberately increasing the space between himself and the couch,
“I’ll stay back,” he said, “If that helps.”
It did.
Wemmbu’s shoulders dropped a fraction.
Egg noticed.
So did Spoke.
Egg nodded once at Flame.
Approval.
Gratitude.
“Alright,”
Egg said, shifting his posture just slightly,
“Here’s what we’re going to do.”
He held up one finger,
“We don’t remove the collar yet.”
Flame stiffened but didn’t interrupt.
“Two,”
Egg continued,
“we keep voices low, movements predictable. No surprises.”
Spoke nodded immediately.
Parrot mirrored him.
“Three,”
Egg said, looking directly at Wemmbu again,
“you don’t have to respond. You don’t have to make eye contact. You don’t have to prove anything.”
Wemmbu’s gaze flickered — not up, not fully — but closer.
Egg smiled, small and reassuring,
“You’re doing enough just by breathing.
Egg leaned back slightly, giving him space,
“That’s all for now,”
he said softly,
“We’ll go slow. As slow as you need.”
Wemmbu didn’t answer.
But he didn’t disappear either.