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There was never a sliver of doubt about whether the unbroken hatchlings that showed up in the dome were his actual kids. Phil knew from the moment that Chayanne showed up despite his clear instructions to stay at home that he was dealing with something strange.
Something sinister.
Then Tallulah showed up and started playing her maracas for no reason and Phil knew he needed people to be aware of this.
Then all hell broke loose.
Beneath the green binary lines that seem to exist as a line between their world and the void, Phil can see Tallulah’s empty green eyes—empty of all the love and care they usually hold—and he hates that it makes it harder to fight her.
He hates that he feels relief when Etoiles is the one who lands the final hit—a casual slice with his scythe while the entity is down.
It’s pure chaos in the dome, but it’s not like Phil’s not used to that, he’s seen a bit too much of it. Slipping back into his role as a fighter is as familiar as putting on clothes in the morning, the only hindrance being his clipped wings. It limits his mobility and makes it hard to find a proper balance, and mid-battle isn’t the best place to realise that he’s become rusty .
Having someone to fight by his side is nothing new either, and it makes up for all the places where he’s limited, though he’s slightly surprised at how easy it is to find a functional flow with Etoiles.
There’s a feeling that the universe wants them to do this together as if someone knows that this is a poetic duo to be fighting the codes.
Cellbit knows poetic justice too. He’s the one to shout, “Let Philza kill it” when the monster that took shape as Chayanne nears its end.
It should be as easy for him as it had been for Etoiles, to finally take down a code monster.
It’s anything but easy when the thing, somehow aware beyond what any of them understand of it yet, changes part of its form until Phil is face to face with the imposter—the one which is almost identical to his son.
He hears things, some gasps, someone yelling at him to just kill it already, Charlie somehow relating this to his own experiences, his own heart pounding against his chest.
When it comes to it, he doesn’t hesitate, not like the code wants him to. There’s no part of him that even thinks this is his son, there’s no instinct in him to hold back when there’s a weapon in his hand and a creature needing to be gone in front of him, there’s only an absent thought of ‘ send it to another realm’.
He strikes.
And it’s gratifying when he finally gets to take down the code monster. Every feeling of paranoia, worry, and concern gets an outlet as the thing disappears into a puff of smoke. The smoke disappears and the dome is silent for a moment, except it’s not silent, it’s muted, like his head has been pushed underwater. The smoke clears in only a second, Phil blinks, and he rubs his eyes because he can’t be seeing this.
‘Kill me, Phil.”
The noises are all the same, confusion, shouts, there’s the distinct feeling of pandemonium but he can’t hear it. He can still hear the aftermath of the explosions and smell the stench of smoke that fills the air. His eyes sting with the sunlight that breaks through, revealing them to the rest of the server.
‘Look, they all want you to.’
A hand lands on his shoulder and Phil drops his axe—he’s startled and he wants it out of his hands before he does something he regrets and regrets even ages later, even in a new world where a dull-eyed and ragged trench coat-wearing version of his son has never existed.
“Woah, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Fit says, retreating his hand with a mostly unconcerned look. There’s worry there, yes, but it’s not the worry he would be feeling if he knew the places Phil had been.
“No, it’s okay, you didn’t,” Phil assures, picking up codebreaker in the process. “I just had a bad grip on it.”
Fit wisely ignores pointing out how weak of a lie that is. Maybe he assumes Phil’s rattled by the fight, which is also factually true, but he probably doesn’t think that the place his mind went was so far away from the dome, spanning time and space, because why would he ever assume that?
“It was very intuitive of you,” Fit says. “You instantly knew those weren’t your kids.”
Phil shrugs and tries to let the sounds of everyone talking around him ground him again. “I know my children. They wouldn’t leave their beds if I told them not to.”
“You say that but you didn’t even give them a chance, you just knew.” Fit sounds vaguely impressed.
Phil’s not in the mood to argue. There are many things he would’ve done differently if time reversed and he got another chance. He’d not waste time taking the picture, he’d land the first hit, and maybe he’d even try to save Gegg. That conversation would last too long, they can’t have it when Jaiden glides into the dome with Tallulah and Chayanne in tow.
Things settle, and Phil does too.
Kind of.
Unlike before there's… pressure.
The island was always weird and Phil never actively turned a blind eye to all the sinister unspoken things, like the threats from the duck, and the ‘I hope you enjoy the island’ from Cucurucho. When the binary entities started showing up and attacking the hatchlings, he knew he had to step it up, to protect.
Chayanne and Tallulah are both alive and though they were both shaken to hear that they’d been impersonated, they’re alive. And that means everything.
They have to survive, and if the binary entities can impersonate people, then that’s just another thing they have to watch out for.
Before leaving, Wilbur had mused that it was so typical of Phil to make a warrior out of his son, to teach him how to fight and put him in all the best gear. Phil could’ve made many arguments back then about how unlucky his children had been in other worlds—but he’s not even sure that Wilbur remembered that, and all those arguments that had been on the tip of his tongue—Chayanne loves fighting shit, self-defence is important, he wants to learn—pale in comparison to what the island looks like now.
He trains them more than before. He gathers materials for better weapons to put in his kids’ hands. He scrutinises anyone who comes to the wall and he barely leaves their sides. He fixates on the cracks and he ignores all Fit’s comments on his paranoia. Those comments come out as jokes anyway, lighthearted banter that does very well to undermine that his kids were impersonated.
Something needs to be done about that, and Phil doesn’t have the time to track down the codes. The Brazilians and the French are groups of five co-parenting one kid dragon, and Phil is in charge of two . On his own.
[Ph1LzA whispers to Etoiles] do u want to train with me, chayanne, and tallulah? you can bring pomme.
[Etoiles whispers to you] yess. i sure hope no codes show up for us to fight
“Philza, Philza,” Etoiles greets as soon as he’s warped to the wall. He’s fully decked out as always, scythe slung over his shoulder. Phil evaluates him mentally, he doesn’t really have to, he doubts a code can copy a voice, let alone an accent, to such accuracy—disguising themselves as a player would be inconvenient. They’d probably sound more like Cucurucho than themselves.
Pomme shows up a moment later and plops a sign down on the ground in front of Tallulah and Chayanne. “Are you finally ready to give your kids some proper training?”
Phil rolls his eyes. “Your definition of ‘proper training’ is not the same as mine. We’ll be practising combat in a controlled environment without the risk of powerful monsters or accidental deaths.”
“Yes,” Etoiles agrees with a dismissive nod. “Controlled environment. A dungeon then.”
“How exactly is a dungeon a controlled environment?” Phil asks.
Etoiles grins. “If a monster attacks, I will stab it before it can hurt them too badly. I will do the same if a code monster shows up.”
Tallulah looks vaguely uncomfortable. Phil doesn’t need a sign to know that she’s less worried about the prospect of a code monster showing up and more about the tint of Etoiles' tone. To her, it’s obvious that he wants another confrontation with the code monsters.
She places a sign with a soft bonk .
‘are we doing a dungeon? are we ready for that?
“Of course you are, Tallulah,” Phil assures softly, putting a hand in her hair. “You stay close to me and Chayanne and we’ll make sure you’re safe.”
He looks to Chayanne who needs none of the same assurance. He looks pumped for a quest that’s nothing but mild. Phil smiles warmly. He’s proud of both of them, strong and brave Chayanne, strong and brave Tallulah.
“You do this thing, Philza,” Etoiles says. “You coddle your children. They will not break as easily as you think in your head.”
“You can never be too safe,” Phil argues instead of saying. You have no idea how easily you can lose a child. I hope you never have to feel responsible for that loss.
Etoiles nods sagely. “It is important to be rich.”
Phil laughs. “Okay. We’re doing a dungeon but we are bailing if it gets too dangerous.” Etoiles nods and Phil turns to Tallulah and Chayanne. “Are you two fine with that? Do you have everything you need?”
They nod in tandem. Phil feels a pang of disappointment coming from that part of him that wishes one of them would protest so they could stay home and pretend that nothing would ever get near the hatchlings. The rest of him, the real him—covered head to toe in heavy armour, looking down at his children who wear as much as him—is itching to fight.
Etoiles doesn’t take them to an easy dungeon. It’s a medium dungeon, one Phil might’ve chosen himself prior to the increase in code monster attacks. Etoiles slices down most monsters before the kids even have a chance to get in a hit, and if they do, it’s usually Pomme or Chayanne.
Tallulah isn’t much of a fighter, she takes too much after Wilbur— much too much if you ask Phil—she lags behind sometimes and when that happens Phil is right next to her. So what if he’s a little overprotective? He has a right to coddle her when she’s her. A splitting image of his son. An amazing kid. Gods know Phil would fight everything that makes her sad.
She has a small moment. A baby zombie of all things runs towards them from behind and Phil—about to raise his weapon—hesitates. And the pay-off is her managing to kill the thing with minimal difficulty. The lack of mobility is there, making sure her movements can never be as fluid as a true fighter, but she’s capable. It’s not something he wants to forget, it’s just easy to put it into the back of his mind.
Tallulah won’t die so easily. It took a powerful binary entity summoning dozens upon dozens of ghosts to finally take her life. She has people protecting her, teaching her, and providing for her, so maybe Phil doesn’t have to worry.
Maybe Etoiles was right to say that they won’t break as easily as he thinks.
Maybe he should be more concerned that he’s going to be the one to hurt one of them. It’s what has killed most hatchlings so far. Neglect, accidents, carelessness—the fault of the parents more so than the hatchlings or other external forces. He’s proved himself a shitty parent before, who’s to stop him from doing it again?
It takes one mistake from him to take a life forever. The hatchlings aren’t privy to respawning. The federation has the ability to bring them back temporarily for closure.
And the codes can impersonate them.
One misstep, one misunderstanding, one assumption, would be all it takes for things to go off the rails. What if the election dinner was only the first wave of impersonations? What if they got better? What if there came a day where Phil wouldn’t be able to instantly recognize that he’s standing before a fake?
He can’t risk that.
Hence, why they’re training.
Two signs are placed in front of him. One yellow and another purple.
‘Etoiles is on the second floor already. Are we fine to go?’
‘papa you look distracted :,)’
He puts one hand on each of their heads. “If Etoiles is up there it’s probably empty already but we can see if there’s anything left for us to take, alright?” He gives Chayanne a gentle push, signalling that he can run ahead if he’s eager to and smiles at Tallulah. “Don’t worry about me, Tallulah. I just got caught in my head. It’s something you do when you’re old.”
Tallulah falls apart on the ground in her typical dramatic fashion and Phil laughs. Concerns forgotten.
Two floors down, another three to go.
Forever will willingly acknowledge that he maybe doesn’t know Philza as well as he claims. When they first met it was easy to see his friend in Philza, since they both looked so uncannily alike. Only time—and maybe some hurtful insistence from Philza’s side—could reveal all the differences.
So he’s over Philza. Totally over him.
And yet it seems that there is one thing Philza failed to mention in all the time they’d known each other.
Wilbur, the musician who maybe even doesn’t exist depending on who you ask, just so happens to be Philza’s son , and Forever only realised that when Wilbur himself returned.
He thought someone would make an announcement, that they’d all hear it from Tallulah before they’d hear it from the man himself. When he’d finally return there’d be a welcome home party and everyone could be introduced to one another.
That’s why he’s a little stunned when Wilbur shows up at his base out of nowhere. He looks to be admiring the sighs, not paying forever any mind. There’s a guitar slung over his shoulder and he’s wearing a soft yellow sweater, just like in the pictures of him that Forever has seen on occasion.
“Hello, hello!” Forever calls out.
Wilbur turns around and waves casually. “Hello,” he says. He has a smooth voice, almost monotonous.
“It’s nice to meet you, man. No one told me you were back. Did I miss a party?” Forever smiles welcomingly. This man is good friends with Philza and he means everything to Tallulah. So he wants to make a good first impression.
Wilbur returns the smile with a sunny one of his own. “No, no. There hasn’t been a party. I want to surprise my dad and Tallulah, a party would make that very complicated.”
“Haha, yeah—” Forever pauses and squints. “Did you just say your dad? Who is your dad?”
“I should hope you’ve met him by now,” Wilbur says. “You Brazilians have been here for a good while from what I’ve heard. It’s Phil.”
Forever gapes—the words enter his brain, but they’re difficult to process. Philza has a son—a non-dragon-hybrid son—and he’s failed to mention it in the months they’ve known each other. Had Forever missed that detail somewhere? He vaguely remembers Tallulah calling him ‘abuelito’, and assuming that it was less literal and more of an inside joke, a jab.
He scans Wilbur’s face for similarities but they’re just not there either. Wilbur doesn’t have wings, he’s tall, he has brown hair and brown eyes so unlike Philza’s blonde hair and blue eyes.
But it’d be hypocritical to get caught up in those details when everyone on the island is the parent to a dragon child. Adoption is just as valid as anything else, and Philza excels in being a single father of two, so it makes a lot of sense that he has other children.
It’s just weird that it’s never been mentioned. That is all.
Whatever expression he makes has Wilbur laughing. “Oh, he didn’t tell you, did he? I heard the two of you were friends but maybe that was wrong?” He tilts his head innocently.
“We are friends,” Forever says. “Very good friends,” he adds.
Wilbur smiles widely—it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Forever is starting to worry that he’s making a bad first impression. Getting along with Philza had been a rocky road with all the promises of locking him up and such, the last thing he’d want is to not get along with his son . “That’s good,” Wilbur says, almost tonelessly. “You can help me surprise them. You wouldn’t mind that would you?”
“No! Tallulah has missed you so much she will be happy to see you back,” Forever says quickly, words coming out faster than he can consider them.
“Yay,” Wilbur smiles. “I’ve missed her a lot too.”
Stilted. That’s the word Forever would use to describe that sentence. Wilbur sure is proving himself different than he imagined. But forever knows better than to judge someone by their very first interaction, maybe Tallulah got some of her timidness from Wilbur like all the other traits they claim she got from her father.
“Have you got anything in mind for the surprise?” Forever asks. He’s excited that Wilbur came to him for help above everyone else. Sure it’s a bit unclear how he chose who to go to, it’s entirely possible that he chose a base to explore and took it from there. It doesn’t matter too much to Forever. He gets to surprise Tallulah with the return of her father. That’s amazing!
“I haven’t been here for a while but I want it to be in the most beautiful location possible. Do you have any ideas?”
“Yes, yes! Tallulah took me to your house. It was so pretty,” Forever gushes.
Wilbur nods before continuing. “I want to have some alone time with her before I meet everyone else. If the two of us go to our house, can you make sure we get that?”
The people who knew Wilbur before he left all had things to say about him. Bad, Foolish, Quackity, Charlie, and the words that floated around most often were either ‘he’s just like his daughter’ or ‘he’s a bit weird’.
He sounds weird, acts weird, and there’s something indirect in his words that Forever feels like he has a hard time deciphering. He blames it on the slight language barrier.
Forever is dead set on making a good impression, so he nods furiously. “I will help you with anything you need!”
“Thank you,” Wilbur says.
It’s only when they start their next conversation as they head towards the waystone that Forever realises that Wilbur has the same frozen smile on his lips throughout it all.
They’re on the last floor of the dungeon covered in sweat and scratched armour when Phil gets a message from Forever that sounds so blatantly suspicious he spends a good ten seconds staring blankly at his communicator.
[Forever whispers to you] come to tallulah and wilbur’s house. bring tallulah:D
Okay. It’s not that suspicious. Forever has been infinitely more tolerable since he finally kind of let his infatuation go. It’s still there sometimes, Phil can tell, but it’s muted and he’d say they’re pretty close now.
That doesn’t stop him from being wary of the man who threatened to lock him up repeatedly. It’d be more of a concern if he wasn’t concerned.
He keeps the communicator out of view of Tallulah and considers the message. He doesn’t like bringing Tallulah to Wilbur and her house if she isn’t the one to initiate it. It just feels like rubbing salt in the wound. But she’s proved herself to be resilient and she likes Forever well enough.
Potentially, he could take her there as Forever wants.
On the other hand, the message doesn’t have nearly enough information about his intentions. That is the opposite of what Phil needs.
[You whisper to Forever] what for?
He keeps his eyes on his kids as he waits for a response. Chayanne is so dedicated to protecting Tallulah that Phil barely has to do anything on that front, and Pomme appears to be having great amounts of fun too.
That’s why he’s comfortable keeping his communicator on hand while he waits.
Until finally.
[Forever whispers to you] it’s a surprise<3
Phil’s squint turns into a glare. He stops walking and types.
[You whisper to Forever] please be a bit more specific
A beat, then.
[Forever whispers to you] your son is here
Cold, cold, cold seeps through his veins as his mind picks up the words. Anxiety prickles at his skin and his hands turn white from their grip on the comm. He shoots Forever a quick message ‘chayanne is with us, that’s not my son’ and hurries over to his kids.
“Chayanne, Tallulah,” he calls out. They must hear it in his tone, the franticness because they both go stiff and turn to him. “There’s a code monster impersonating Chayanne with Forever in Wil’s house. I—someone needs to go there. Pomme, can you get Etoiles?”
Pomme nods and runs off.
Tallulah places a sign on the ground, clumsily.
‘why at papi’s house?’
And Phil has to tell her, “I don’t know, Tallulah. They might be doing their best to mess with us just like before. But I won’t let them hurt you, okay? We’ll get Etoiles and figure out the best thing to do. The code monsters aren’t interested in killing humans, so Forever is fine too. We’re good so far.”
Except the code monsters are insistent on targeting their family. Not anybody else, them , and Phil thought he was good at avoiding all the drama relating to the federation, but being the father of two was over the line for the binary entities, apparently.
They’re only good because Forever stumbled upon the code monster instead of them.
Etoiles is ecstatic. “Pomme tells me there is a code monster. Let’s go to it.”
“I’m taking the kids home first,” Phil says.
Etoiles narrows his eyes slightly, not in a confrontational or angry manner, but in a way that really signals ‘quit your bullshit’, matching his next words. “We killed two of them at the dinner. We can take this one without a problem, Philza.”
“But we aren’t,” Phil said with a tone of finality. Then lower, he whispers. “I’m not putting either of them through this willingly. That’s not the way you raise kids.”
“Okay,” Etoiles says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You put Tallulah and Chayanne in their basement and I will get a head start on the code monster.”
This is what Phil likes about Etoiles. He might be eager to fight the binary entities, which rivals Phil’s need to protect his kids, but when it comes down to it, they’re able to find a middle ground where they function like a well-oiled machine. Etoiles will start the fight, but Phil will be by his side before it's over.
Philza is silly sometimes. He is clearly one of the better fighters of the server, Etoiles can see the many battles he fought in the way he holds his axe. He could see it when they fought the codes together and won, that Philza has many instincts that he doesn’t utilise because he’s become overprotective.
Etoiles cuts him some slack when he’s really considering Philza’s situation. Pomme has five parents, five people to protect her, leaving Etoiles with all the time in the world to do all the things necessary to hone his skills and seek out the binary entities.
Philza is a father of two and he loves them both so much it hurts to watch. One of them isn’t even his own, the princess of the island, but he loves her like she is his own. He hasn’t bothered to ask Philza much about his past, just as he never asked Etoiles either, but he suspects, based on how parental traits came so easily to him.
Even a dungeon raid is littered with all kinds of those traits. Words of encouragement, careful sharp eyes following the moves of every hatchling, even Pomme, who isn’t his own, he watches out for. He gives them this special kind of attention that none of the other islanders quite exhibit.
It’s both sweet… and silly.
But he can’t really fault Philza for sending his kids home at the threat of a code monster. If Pomme asks to leave, or even comes close to dying, Etoiles is going to get her the hell out of there.
She doesn’t ask, so together they warp to Wilbur and Tallulah’s home, which is not a place he’s been often.
Forever stands by the little river shore, looking… fine? He doesn’t look like there’s a problem in the world. Etoiles shares a look with Pomme and shrugs, lowering his scythe.
“Forever, where is the code monster?”
Forever laughs sheepishly. “There is none! I think Philza misunderstands me. His other son—Wilbur is here. We are surprising Tallulah with his return.”
“Oh,” Etoiles says disappointedly, then, “Wait. Wilbur is Philza’s son?”
Forever sighs deeply and shakes his head. “Yes. Typical Philza. So dishonest not to tell us.”
“Where is he then?” Etoiles asks.
“He is in the house, ’reacquainting’ with it,” Forever says the word ‘reacquainting’ as if he’s repeating something someone else has said. Wilbur most likely.
“Wonderful,” Etoiles says. He looks down at Pomme. “Let’s meet Philza’s son.”
Pomme nods excitedly and walks ahead. Etoiles follows her with… careful steps. Maybe silly Philza’s paranoia is spreading to him like a disease, but there is something off about this. Not something he can figure out based on hard facts, no, because every fact is pointing towards a slight misunderstanding between Forever, Philza, and Wilbur, but his gut instincts are telling him otherwise.
He knocks on the door.
A tall man with a still smile and soft exterior opens it. “Hello? You’re not Phil.”
“My name is Etoiles and this is my daughter Pomme. She is a friend of Tallulah.” Etoiles speaks like a father setting up a playdate which is a good way to be liked.
Wilbur’s smile widens slightly. “Oh, that sounds lovely. I’m glad Tallulah has so many people in her life.”
“Yes,” Etoiles agrees. “She is a cute kid. A princess.”
The flattery does nothing to impress Wilbur, whose expression doesn’t change from the smile. “Do you have any idea when she will be here? I understand that you were on a quest with her.”
“Ah,” Etoiles said. This is just awkward, isn’t it? Does he really have to explain to Wilbur, a man who has no clue about the state of the island, that they assumed there was a monster waiting to kill them here? No, he’d leave that for Philza, who apparently is his father. “Philza will be here.”
Wilbur stops smiling. “When he comes, tell him to bring Tallulah.”
The door closes.
Etoiles stands there for a moment, but he recovers quickly from the weirdness of it all, turning to Pomme. “So he is weird.”
She places a sign on the ground outside the house.
‘He isn’t like Tallulah at all’
It’s a fair observation. If there’s anything that everyone who’s met Wilbur has shared with those who don’t is that every trait Tallulah has, Wilbur has too. Allegedly, they are a splitting image of each other.
“Let us see what Philza does. He knows Wilbur—unlike us.”
Philza arrives not a minute later, looking ready for battle. Etoiles watches as his eyes go from analytical, determined, hard, to confused by the lack of carnage.
“What’s going on?” he asks, it’s halfway towards a demand.
Forever comes over and speaks with exaggerated movements. “Read your messages, Philza!”
Philza glares and pulls out his communicator. His eyes soften.
“Wil’s here?” he asks and oh, it is so obvious. How could they ever have missed it? That is not a man speaking about a friend, or a brother (as some had assumed), that’s the tone of someone asking about their child, plain and simple.
“He is in his house waiting for Tallulah,” Etoiles says.
“Oh?” All the softness leaves Philza’s eyes, replaced by darkness, a brewing storm that’s almost scary to witness. Etoiles last saw that when the binary entities impersonated his children.
He pulls out his scythe without thought, battle, battle, battle, a battle is happening or else Philza would not look like a man seeking violence. His blood pumps with anticipation, but he lets Philza stalk towards the house with his own weapon in hand.
“You game’s up,” Philza shouts through the door. “Wil would never pull something like this so you might as well come out here and accept your fate, you fuck.”
The Wilbur who opens the door looks much weaker than the one Etoiles had seen moments before. His eyes were wide, tired, like a racoon.
“Phil?” He speaks weakly, like a snake.
Still, Etoiles waits before pouncing. When Philza attacks, he will too. Not before.
Philza points his axe at Not-Wilbur’s chest and looks up at him with the same sharp glare. “I won’t fucking hold back, so why don’t you shed that form and we can all go about our days.”
Not-Wilbur’s body distorts like a technological glitch, but instead of the entity they’re all used to seeing, it’s still Not-Wilbur, wearing a new set of clothes. A rugged trench coat that makes him look even bigger, a dark beanie, fingerless gloves, and large boots. Like someone has cut through the smooth exterior.
It only gets weirder from there.
Philza doesn’t lower the axe, he doesn’t move at all. It is as if someone has covered him in ice, all except his eyes, which waver, a distant look. He had that back then too, briefly after he’d slayed the Chayanne impersonator—it had been a split second, something only Fit and Etoiles noticed.
“This makes it easier for you, right, Phil?” Not-Wilbur says with the smile of a madman, one Etoiles would never expect to see on someone related to Philza.
Those words make absolutely no sense. At least, they make no sense to Etoiles, they seem to matter to Philza. He grits his teeth and raises his axe. There are no quips, no argument to be made. When he strikes, he does it with speed that Etoiles always knew he had in him.
For some reason, the binary entity doesn’t shift form as Philza’s axe buries itself in its shoulder. It doesn’t change forms as Etoiles jumps into the mix too and slices at its abdomen. It doesn’t change forms as an arrow from Forever hits it, or as Pomme lands a hit too.
It talks as if nothing hurts it, even when Etoiles knows it’s taking significant damage. “This is awfully nostalgic, no?”
It’s infuriating, not because it’s hard, or because they’re close to losing (if anything, they’re very close to defeating it, or at least forcing it to reveal its true form), but because the more it speaks in calm tones and says words that only make sense to Philza, the more Philza falters.
Philza had glared daggers at the binary entity when they impersonated his children at the dinner, but this one makes him look like he’s attending a funeral. It’s beyond weird. It’s beyond the island and it is beyond this world.
There’s an intuition that makes him say his next words. “Philza, let us kill this one.”
“I don’t—” Philza says, voice weak and fragile. “I’m fine.”
Not-Wilbur takes the small pause as an opportunity to jump at Philza, who dodges by a hair and forces his axe into the thing’s stomach. No wounds appear when they hit it, it only glitches and weakens as a result.
“You still don’t hesitate, do you? You never did,” Not-Wilbur says, venom dripping off his words.
Etoiles is pretty annoyed by now, the other entities haven’t been nearly as talkative, he didn’t even know they could talk and he strongly preferred it when they didn’t. Especially when the words seemed to cut through Philza like a knife, the pain only visible in his eyes, not in the way he kept going even though Etoiles told him to stand down.
For fucks sake, they are supposed to be friends, a bunch of fools stuck on an island together who’d help each other through things. So couldn’t Philza just let them kill this thing instead of letting it torture him?
If he wasn’t going to do that, Etoiles would just get himself a bit too involved in this mess. He leaps between the two of them before the next hit lands and uses a shield to block Not-Wilbur’s sword.
“Kindly, shut up,” he tells it.
It bares its teeth and tries to hit him, failing. He raises his weapon and slices through it, jumps to the side, and does the same thing again. He spares a glance at their surroundings. An area so pretty and serene is no place for a battle like this, but at least it’s fairly closed off by treetops, if it tries to fly away he’ll still have a chance to take it.
Forever and Pomme have taken to fight the mobs that spawn along with the entity. There are not as many as Etoiles is used to, so he knows they’ll be fine, he knows he can keep going without worrying about Pomme.
As he diverts every blow directed at Philza to Not-Wilbur’s clear annoyance, he starts questioning why it’s not flying away, or even targeting Pomme. Did it come here just to mess with Philza? Does it seek revenge?? If so, that’s weird.
That’s something to consider when he’s slaughtered this thing. Which turns out to be a combined effort. Even with Philza’s subdued distress, he probably ended up being the one to cause the most damage before Etoiles took the leading position.
At the election dinner, people had insisted that Philza got to kill Chayanne’s imposter, but here, Etoiles understands that that could not happen.
He lands the final hit that forces it to the ground. It doesn’t make a sound. It doesn’t change forms. It just lies there, distorted at the ground in front of Wilbur and Tallulah’s house—there are cracks around it, little hints that its true form is concealed, a 1 and 0 peeping out in swift neon flashes.
There’s a smile on its face, not like the smile from earlier, cold, absent, nothing. No, this smile is genuine, it reaches its eyes as if dying is its wish come true. It looks past Etoiles, who has a scythe to its neck, past him and at Philza.
He kills it before it can say any more hurtful words.
Poof. Gone. Just like that.
Etoiles unequips his weapon and turns around to look at the damage done. Forever and Pomme are eating golden apples, looking fine just like Etoiles assumed they’d be. Philza’s eyes are glazed over, staring at the spot where the entity lay before dying.
“Philza,” Etoiles says.
Nothing but silence from him. He doesn’t know what more to say. He’s been inserted into an event far beyond his understanding of Philza and the estranged son he’s never met. But he’s not the one who has to cope with that, because whatever the weight was behind everything that just occurred hurt Philza enough to make his brain take him somewhere not here.
Etoiles shares a look with Forever who looks maybe a little less lost, perhaps he’s better at emotions like this. He walks over to Philza and places a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle shake. Etoiles is a bit too far away to hear what he whispers. That is fine. He can still be helpful.
He nods at Pomme, nods at the waystone. There’s a silent understanding and a moment later they’re in Philza’s basement. Chayanne and Tallulah are both there, signs are littered across the room, each sharing their worries with the other.
When they spot him, Chayanne places a sign in front of him, demanding an explanation of whatever events transpired.
Etoiles holds up his hands in surrender. “The code was not impersonating you, Chayanne. It was impersonating Wilbur.”
They’re at the waystone before he can say anything more.
Phil is underwater. The waves are crashing against him, pulling him down, flooding his ears with noise and leaving him to the mercy of the sea and its currents.
He’s always liked the sea, somewhat. He’s gotten rid of it a few times to uncover the monuments in it, but he’s always appreciated its vastness, its inability to be tamed.
It’s dark and lonely down there, a picturesque horror that forces the air out of his lungs and makes his wings impossibly messy. It’s something to be conquered, but it has never been as visibly frightening as other things, the wither, the dragon, the night, it simply is.
Crows can’t swim. One time, when Wilbur was just as small as his daughter, he’d scared the shit out of Phil by deciding he was going to play pirate without supervision. Wilbur, with his too-imaginative brain, hadn’t ever considered playing pirate at land, no, why would he, pirates existed on the seas according to the various tales Phil regretted telling him.
He found Wilbur in one of his boats admiring the waves several kilometres away from the shore and chewed him out until he finally understood that there was no messing with the greatest force of nature.
Then Wilbur grew up and discovered the wonders of water-breathing potions and Phil decided that parenting was ridiculous. He never really thought he’d be good at it, an immortal with the blessing of the goddess of death isn’t exactly the one you’d leave in charge of a child.
But the world keeps doing it even when he never asks for it. Some higher beings push this on him and he accepts because his greatest fears are somehow also his greatest joys.
He floats for a while, letting the waves crash against him, until.
He feels a pressure around his hands, squeezing. He tries getting his hands out of the grip but ends up stumbling back as a result. It’s confusing. It’s not supposed to hurt when you fall backwards into water. He lets his hand fall to the ground and feels it. Blades of grass against his fingers.
He blinks and raises his hand. It’s not covered in dirt like his brain expects, hopes , but in blood. Blood splits across his palm and flows down like a river—except it's stained, frozen in time. He needs it gone. He needs it gone right now because he’s not sure if it’s his own or if it’s his son’s. It makes him feel lightheaded, makes his lungs squeeze with discomfort, and he's up again, somehow pulling himself somewhere.
He’s halfway towards the river—the one where they built their sandcastles and Wil was there and everything was perfect for once —when he’s tackled by his kids.
He knows it’s them before they’ve tackled him to the ground. Tallulah's messy brown hair, Chayanne's floaty duck. He'd know those features anywhere. It’s unlike them to be so wild, but there’s gentleness in the way they cling to him.
He wraps his arms around them and engulfs them with his wings. His kids, alive and well and untainted and scared beyond their own understanding on his behalf. It’s terrible. But holding them makes it better.
All the what-ifs play in his mind. What if he’d taken Forever’s well-meaning message seriously? What if Etoiles hadn’t taken him seriously? What if any one of them had made the wrong move at the wrong time? Tallulah would be dead, maybe before she could realise that it wasn’t even her father, but a cruel imitation of something that was never truly him.
Phil’s eyes sting at the thought and he brings them closer until he’s almost afraid they’ll crack.
He’s a fool for getting attached again and again and again but when Tallulah looks up at him with large concerned eyes and Chayanne takes her hand, he doesn’t regret it one bit.
It’s a familiar dance.
There is an after, there always is. When Phil fully resurfaces, he’s aware that Forever, Etoiles, and Pomme are there, and that they have been for a long while. It was noon when they left the dungeon and the sun is nearing the horizon now.
He owes them, but all they want are words.
They ask him if he’s okay. Forever is especially insistent on this part while Etoiles leaves most of the answer to his own observations. Phil probably looks like shit, but he’s coherent and he’s alive and he’s with his kids.
He’s fine.
So he’s ready when Etoiles speaks up and asks what they’ve probably been dying to know since the moment the entity opened the door in front of Phil.
“Can you explain what just happened?”
Phil sighs and rubs his forehead with his palms. He looks down at Tallulah, who should be the last person to hear about this.
“Wil and I knew each other before this, I’m just the only one who remembers the specifics.”
He gets a series of confused expressions.
“When we arrived at the island it was pretty clear that most of us couldn’t remember much of our past lives. Like you, you remember Brunim, but he doesn’t seem to matter that much here, does he?” Forever shakes his head. Phil continues. “Wilbur knew he was my son, but he doesn’t remember the world we used to be in with some of the other people on the island.”
He strokes Tallulah’s hair, she’s safe and that’s all that matters. Oh, how he wishes she didn’t have to hear this.. “A long time ago, Wilbur was very different from who he is today. And I was very different too. What happened back there was a reminder of that, but it wasn’t a reflection of who we are today.” He looks at Forever and Etoiles with a serious expression. “Wilbur will be devastated if you let this cloud your judgement of him when he returns. He’s nothing like that thing, and he was never any worse than I was. If you have any judgments against him based on this, double it and throw it at me instead.”
“You are a self-deprecating asshole, Philza,” Etoiles says. “If you think we will judge you, that is just mean to us too. Do you not like us? Do you think we are like that?”
Phil frowns. “No, of course, I don't.”
Etoiles nods sharply. “Good, then we are on the same page.”
Forever looks him straight in the eyes. “I am so sorry,” he says, voice full of undue remorse. “If I had been more clever, things would not have gotten so out of hand.”
“Fuck that,” Phil hisses. “It’s not your fault that those shits feel like impersonating my children. And you don’t know Wilbur, so how the fuck would you even know that something was off?”
It’s a good argument, Forever can’t logically respond to it. Which leaves them with nothing left to say. They’ll take Phil’s vague explanation and he’ll never have to tell them just what the code monster had been doing. How it had somehow managed, in its last moment, to mimic the relieved smile Wilbur had had on his face when… when he died.
If they knew of that and everything that followed, Etoiles wouldn’t be saying passive-aggressive words of comfort and Forever wouldn’t be apologising.
But they don’t, and they did.
Forever leans forward and places a hand on his shoulder. “You miss him. Wilbur.”
Phil sighs and shares a look with Tallulah. She smiles softly, a bit pained, a bit relieved, maybe a bit of it all. “Of course, I do.”
Forever removes the hand and smiles. It’s a bit weird and unfamiliar for him to act so calm, but it's a good weird. “You never mentioned that he was your son. We were both surprised to find out.”
Had they not known?
Sure, Phil kept mostly to himself and his kids, and sure Wilbur’s been gone for so long that half of the people here haven’t even met him… but… it feels wrong that they don’t know at all. Especially since they never tried to hide it.
“I thought it was obvious?” he says. “It’s not like we did anything to hide it from you. Tallulah even used to call me abuelito.”
“That is because you are old,” Etoiles says.
Tallulah shoots him a mildly disapproving look.
It makes Phil chuckle.
The world is a bit familiar once again. He sort of feels like sleeping for a week, and he misses Wilbur more than ever, along with a gnawing need to see him as he is instead of as he was, but for now, he’ll settle for taking the waystone home and napping with his kids.
And if they all push their beds together, no one’s going to judge.
There is an after, even when it feels like a conflict has been resolved. But when Phil only becomes more vigilant following this, Etoiles is a little easier on him and Forever is a little more clear when he's speaking. Which helps settle the nerves. If only slightly.