Chapter Text
Wemmbu is sitting at his post on Capitol City’s wall when his communicator buzzes in his pocket, which is odd since he turned off notifications for all chat messages except PMs and even odder because he’s supposed to be dead. The only two people who would theoretically look for him are Minute and Egg, which would be really concerning seeing as he only left the end a couple days ago. How shit would their luck be if they got into trouble immediately after Wemmbu left? Trouble big enough that they’d need his backup too!
He considers just ignoring the message (he’s on the job, afterall) when another one comes through, followed by another a few seconds later and a fourth one after that. Someone is really desperate to get his attention and Wemmbu grabs his communicator with the distinct purpose of telling whoever’s on the other end to FUCK OFF!
PrinceZam whispers to you: hey
…But the fight immediately dies within him when he sees the familiar name, followed by panic at the notion that PrinceZam out of all people found him out so quickly when he hasn’t even seen the guy in years.
Wemmbu is about to lament about how unlucky he is and how he can never catch a break on this damn server when his eyes wander to the messages below the first, where his concern is lifted somewhat.
PrinceZam whispers to you: this is going to be really embarrassing if youre not dead
PrinceZam whispers to you: it sounded pretty convincing to me though
PrinceZam whispers to you: i knew youd fuck up eventually
Then it hits him. Somehow, from wherever Zam is, he still managed to hear about Wemmbu’s supposed demise and he’s now gloating in a dead man’s PMs. It’s sort of ironic, seeing as he lowkey also thought Zam was dead since he’s been M.I.A. for so long. The last time they saw each other in person, Wemmbu was telling him to run while he held off ClownPierce. The last time he heard of Zam was when he ran into Pangi a few months ago. The guy’s been doing such a good job at fucking off that he’s gotta hand it to Egg that the news actually managed to reach him.
Wemmbu shifts positions, leaning forward so he can rest his arms on his legs and watch his communicator intently. Work’s been so boring so far that he appreciates the distraction. Capitol City won’t collapse if he stops paying attention for a single second, and his shift’s almost over too.
PrinceZam whispers to you: youd be surprised how quickly news travels on this server
PrinceZam whispers to you: im millions of blocks out but i still heard of your magnolious deeds
PrinceZam whispers to you: that means great btw
PrinceZam whispers to you: youve probably never even heard of the word before
PrinceZam whispers to you: you never will either
At this, Wemmbu mourns the fact that Zam is still the same. He’s not an idiot, never has been despite Zam’s every insistence, but the unnecessary dig still irks him.
PrinceZam whispers to you: sorry
PrinceZam whispers to you: still kinda processing it
PrinceZam whispers to you: god i cant believe youre dead
It’s only slight, but discomfort twists at his stomach at the implication that Zam might be mourning him. Hell, even the lackluster apology rubs him the wrong way. He has to squint and his communicator and wipe the screen clean to even confirm that it’s real. Could you blame him? He’d actually have to be an idiot to believe that Zam actually cared, just look at what happened the last bajillion times he tried to trust him as a teammate!
…
Whatever. Zam’s probably just mad he didn’t get to finish Wemmbu off himself.
He sets the topic aside for another day, groaning as he stands up and stretches out his body. Another guard approaches to take their shift after him, waving in a friendly fashion that he returns. As Wemmbu packs up his post and prepares to clock out, his communicator buzzes a few more times in his hand. It takes a short while to swap guards and make his daily report to Salvationism, but Wemmbu catches up on Zam’s messages on the walk back home.
PrinceZam whispers to you: unless youre reading this right now as im typing this but i doubt youd let me spam you this much without complaining first
PrinceZam whispers to you: but you know if you said anything then id tell the entire server and whatever scheme you had going on would be ruined
PrinceZam whispers to you: probably. thatd require talking to others
PrinceZam whispers to you: its not like anyone knows im alive either
Except for Wemmbu.
PrinceZam whispers to you: except for pangi
PrinceZam whispers to you: but i think even he’s losing hope
PrinceZam whispers to you: i havent responded to anything hes said in a long time now
PrinceZam whispers to you: i think my guilty conscience is finally kicking in lol
PrinceZam whispers to you: he just
PrinceZam whispers to you: kept asking me when im going to come back
PrinceZam whispers to you: i dont want to imagine what hed think if he saw me now
It’s obvious from this that Zam hasn’t been having a good time ever since the last time they saw each other, and a part of Wemmbu feels vindicated for it. He should feel guilty, even if the reason for it had nothing to do with Wemmbu. He screwed up so many people’s lives for his own sick gains— even the lives of the subjects that he was obligated to protect— that Wemmbu reasons to himself that Zam absolutely deserves to agonize over ignoring Pangi. Not just anyone but Pangi! The loyal dog of the empire that’s still looking after Zam’s little vacation cottage despite getting nothing in return!
As Wemmbu returns to his home, a little one bedroom apartment that was given to him upon joining Capitol City’s guardforce, he offhandedly entertains the idea of an alternate universe where he convinces Pangi to leave Zam and live his own life. However, that line of thought leads him to wonder if maybe Pangi is better off in that secluded forest rather than the hellscape that is the main server.
He picks up his communicator instead of dwelling on that thought for too long and balances it against his mirror as he takes off all his armor.
PrinceZam whispers to you: i cut my hair btw
PrinceZam whispers to you: it gets in the way of everything now that i have to do it myself
PrinceZam whispers to you: dunno how you do it
Wemmbu tries to picture it in his head, but the mere thought unnerves him in a way that he didn’t expect it to. Zam used to boast about how luscious and meticulously styled his perfect hair was, calling Wemmbu and his comparatively simple ponytail a lazy mop.
Speaking of, Wemmbu removes his veil and unties his hair, previously packed into a tight bun that was much more convenient to cover than a ponytail was.
PrinceZam whispers to you: i think its more brown than blonde too
PrinceZam whispers to you: not like it matters that much
PrinceZam whispers to you: i keep it all inside my hood anyways
To his mental sketch, Wemmbu adds a hood. However, the pointy crown on top of his head doesn’t fit underneath it, so he’s forced to remove it. The resulting picture looks more like a random bandit than Prince Zam.
PrinceZam whispers to you: i got a scar
PrinceZam whispers to you: right across the nose
PrinceZam whispers to you: it was pretty bad
PrinceZam whispers to you: youd laugh at it
Wemmbu has scars— pretty much everyone on the server does. Even with the existence of golden foods and potions, it’s pretty easy to find yourself bleeding dry after skirmishes both literally and figuratively.
Zam was the exception. Even when he was acting more as a general than a king, he never entered a fight without backup and he was cautious to a paranoid degree when it came to his health. God, even in the trial chambers back when they were still collaborating, Zam would repay any harmless playful jab Wemmbu made with a netherite sword. If he had any scars, they’d have to be buried below several layers of silk and armor.
Well, not anymore apparently. Still, it’s hard to imagine Zam with scars, especially ones on his face. It’s hard to imagine Zam at all with the description he gave, actually. No matter which way he tries to slice it, the picture that Wemmbu draws up is a total stranger. He doubts that he’d even be able to recognize Zam if they ever crossed paths.
PrinceZam whispers to you: sorry
After that, Zam doesn’t send any more messages. Wemmbu knows that since he spent the better half of his evening checking his communicator again and again just in case he missed something. Alas, it was beginning to look as if Zam had decided enough was enough for the night and turned in early. At least, that’s what Wemmbu’s choosing to believe. With an ominous ending like that to the one-sided conversation, it’s easy to assume that something unexpectedly terrible happened to Zam mid-sentence.
Not like Wemmbu cares. All for the better if Zam goes out in some freak accident, unsatisfying as that may be. It’s just one less villain roaming around.
Wemmbu thumbs at his screen where Zam’s message of apology stays static.
…He goes to sleep after that.