Rearranging my numbing legs, I glanced at the landscape below my window. Distant bodies, miniscule in sight, moved across the monument below, VF and the other RPers still hard at work repairing the damage done to Giant's Way. Slenda had been doing her best to help, despite the operators urging her to stay outside of the server. She would visit the worksite almost every day, only held back by San, who dragged her back to bed and forced her to rest on the weekends. I tapped my pen absentmindedly on my paper, gazing across the plains of green leaves that surrounded me, shoring the beige expanse, sighing in a kind of relief.

The server's name was "Super Utopia Turbo 2.5 HD: Final Mix; A Fragmentary Passage" and was every bit as contradictory and foolish as it sounded, but I loved it, (even if I never said the full name out loud). The admins and those under them were dedicated passionately to the creation of gigantic structures, green hills and power reactors alike, both the gorgeously pastoral and the garishly anime. Most of it was unfinished, entire swaths of land filled with nothing but scaffolding and wool, but there was no denying that the admins had a passion what they were doing, even if they always seemed to go about it the hard way.

The operators of Thieves' Desert, on the other hand, were still infuriated at us, and, though they were used to troublemakers in their server, recommended that we leave once the repairs to the server's landmarks were completed. VF and his friends tried to vouch for us, but it was hard to argue that we weren't responsible for the destruction of the server's PvP neutral zone, one of the most egregious crimes possible against a respected RP server. As Slenda worked on repairs and San explored our new home, there was little left for me to do but be alone with my thoughts. One of the admins of the new server, LVnintendonerd, gave me a blank book, encouraging me to record the events of our journey. I hesitated, but for some reason, he insisted, placing the book in my hands before I could refuse. I suppose it was fitting, the same admin who insisted on creating monuments and huge maps with the resources of a survival server was also a man who needed little reason to be motivated about something, perhaps expecting the same of me. Needless to say, I've since accepted the offer, and have been recording a story of my own. It was a strange setting for me, I suppose. High above the shadowy forest floor, recounting my past like some legendary hero. It felt like something grander than me, but, at the same time, I felt like it was something I'd earned.

Facing my place, I put my pen back to paper. I was near completion, or, rather, the present (I'd hate to say of course that my story was complete).

…

The sun had long set by the time San and Slenda helped me to my feet. My body was aching, and I rose too quickly so that my head started to swim, but I simply let myself fall forward into their arms. San patted me hard on the back, which stung more than it should have, but I grinned through the small pain. I was glad just to be back with them.

Looking behind us, I had only now noticed that the ice I'd created was still there. I held out my hand, and a flame sprung into it. I still had both of Roxxie's mods, even though I'd touched San. Something which always seemed to make my mod… Glitch out, for lack of a better word. Nothing changed about San, I thought, but I'd gone to the void. Beyond the edge of the world, to where no player was meant to go. To where we got our mods. Had my body changed somehow?

Beneath the fire, I noticed a shadow on my palm, like a black string. It spread. I shook my hand, the fire flickering sputtering out of life along with the crack on my palm. Slenda stared at my palm with empty eyes, but San put an arm around her, jerking her vision away.

"Hey, if Cyrus still has her mod, That means there's something left of her after all!"

She squeezed her tiny partner, nuzzling into her cheek, but all Slenda could muster was a pathetic whimpering noise, wiping her eyes with her coat. When the sweater came down however, her expression was replaced by a weary smile.

…

I tried to keep my mind on writing even when San entered the room, although that was probably the greatest challenged I'd encountered yet. The door swung dramatically in front of her as it always did, the puffy white collar of her new hoodie flapping about her as she strode in with heavy boots, quickly closing the short space between the door and me.

She usually did something like this, romping about someone else's room before shooting out again, using the curvature of the room as a kind of launch pad. But this time, she skidded to a stop in front of me, cooing with interest as she snatched the tome from my hands, sending my pen as well as several loose pages of notes flying into the air. I shot her an irritated look, but she returned an expression that I thought was unusual. It seemed more empathetic than anything, as if she felt bad for me.

"Is this what's kept you locked up in your house all these weeks? Looks like you and Slenda have both been trying to work during your time off!"

The creeper girl examined it closely, assuming poses of false introspection as she held the book at different angles, though mostly upside-down. I wondered if she knew how to read at all.

I let out a deep sigh, exchanging a weary look with her, only for her to stick her tongue out, continuing to read while keeping me at an arm's length.

"Oh heck, this isn't bad. A bit on the long side… But you definitely seem to have a talent!"

My bed creaked as I lunged for the tome, trying to grab it from her hand as she dodged my pursuit, blowing raspberries as she bounced across bookshelves and knocked over plants. Even after I pinned her on the bed, getting the book became a flurried struggle, getting a hold of San like getting a hold of a wet cat.

I grabbed at her, getting a handful of fluff rather than book, "I'm willing to take criticism-!" I gasped, leaping at her hand, "From anyone but you!"

We crashed to the floor together, my body tumbling over San's as she slammed into the hard wood, the book flopping out of her hand. I snatched it, sticking my tongue out at her.

She side-eyed me from the floor.

"It would work better in third person too." She suggested, crossing her arms, "And with less comparing people to mobs and making metaphors about made-up stuff. I mean, what the heck is an amusement park? Or a cannon?"

I glared at San for a few moments. It was true that I made references to things outside of the world, and I wasn't completely sure where those metaphors came from, but that was just part of my process. I looked down at the book, puzzling for a moment. Grabbing my pen from the floor, I sought out to prove a point. "Third person…" I scoffed.

Leering at her, Cyrus snapped open the tome, scratching a short third-person description within, hoping that it would turn out badly enough to prove her wrong. His confidence in his strategy wavering as his words trailed the page, he would soon place the book in her hands. As frustrating as she could be, Cyrus couldn't deny that he loved someone reading what he wrote. Even if they were a dingus about it.

"Hmm... Not bad." San said, smiling. She rolled over onto her stomach, refusing to rise from the floor. I brought the book close, lending a sharp eye to the page. My expression faded as my shoulders deflated, "Crap..." I scratched his head with his quill, "You're right, it's not bad."

Then I took the book from Cyrus! I sat on the gloomy dingus and started writing stuff while he tried to throw me off (and failed). He acts like he's getting all annoyed but he's smiling for a change! Can't fool me. :)

With a huff, I stole back the book, holding it face-up in my hands for a few moments before settling on the edge of my bed. San seemed to choose her voyeurism over her curiosity for once, watching me as I scrawled in another short section.

…

The two admins of the nearby server, "Super Utopia Turbo 2.5 HD: Final Mix; A Fragmentary Passage" came to our strange huddle. One was the modder with the dating sim mod, the other the cyborg sniper. Though the sniper stood stoic, almost shyly at the other admin's side, the black cape slung over his left shoulder hid a powerful metal arm, of which I'd already learned to fear.

LVnintendonerd, the curly-haired weeb, stepped forward, respectfully bending himself over one arm, his eyes fixed on me the whole time. Some hearts trickled from the ground at his feet, but he swatted them away like bugs.

"We heard you all could be in need of a place to stay. Now, our server is a bit of a… Mess, to say the least. But we'd be more than happy to take you."

Slenda pulled her head from San's chest, smiling weakly as she breathed a quick "thank you" and sunk back into her partner. LV eyed the creeper girl, half-covered in her own blood and draped in what had to be 25% of her original hoodie. She pushed her hair from her face, grinning wildly at him, which caused him to flinch. The admin tiptoed around her, speaking quietly in my ear.

"She's, uh... Coming with you too?" LV asked, sticking a thumb in San's direction. I nodded, and he cocked his head a specific way.

I asked if that was a problem. He took a moment to fix his shirt before speaking, wiping invisible debris from his shoulders. Each second of the exchange seemed to drag on longer than the last. The admin returned with a strange expression, accompanied by a long whining sound poorly imitating the lead-up to an answer.

"Is that a problem?" I repeated. By now San had taken notice of the conversation.

LV patted his legs, throwing his response out with a motion, "She's house-broken, right? Like, she's not gonna go around the server drawing dicks on signs and-"

"Now don't give me any bright ideas!"

…

Rumbling came from trunk of the treehouse, throwing my pen in my hand and forcing me to remove it from the page. It felt as if a colossal beast was storming up the trunk, heavy limbs slamming against the bark as it clawed its way upward. As the trunk groaned, San's face flushed, her eyes fixated on the window at my back. I turned to see TFfan1. The cyborg sniper who'd helped them fight Roxxie, perched on the windowsill like some predatory bird. Even under the shade of his tinted glasses you could tell he was staring directly at San, the cannon arm—that was seemingly longer than his body—hanging at his side, glowing with a menacing green light. His face worked into a tight grimace, his cannon leveled at the window, at us.

"There you are, creeper! I cannot, will not, let you get away this time!"

Well, really just San.

I paced backwards, plastering a falsely welcoming grin across my face, putting a heavy arm around San's shoulders. She tried to wriggle away, "San. What did you doooo?"

Though I used to doubt that San felt guilt, her face seemed pale, her eyes dyed with something akin to fear.

"I- I didn't do anything! At least, not anything bad, I thought." She stammered, trying to pull downwards out of my arms, as the cannon glowed brighter. Brighter.

"YOU PERMENANTLY DAMAGED MY PERFECT SCALE MODEL OF MIDGAR YOU EXPLOSIVE HARLOT!"

San stared at her feet. She seemed as if she'd genuinely tried to stay on her best behavior… But, "A pizza always looks more aesthetically pleasing with a slice taken out of it! It adds dimension and realism, I just wanted to change it so you could see—"

"THE SECTOR SEVEN PLATE THAT YOU CALL A "SLICE OF PIZZA" TOOK YEARS TO BUILD! GRANTED, IT IS MORE AESTHETICALLY PLEASING NOW… VASTLY SO. BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE FILED A REQUEST FOR A CHANGE!"

"I'M SORRY!"

San quickly ducked under my arm as the admin fired, doing a reverse tuck and roll that sent her flying backwards through the door, leaving me to narrowly dodge the beam which singed the hair off my arm before disintegrating the blocks of my entryway, his beam carving a narrow tunnel through my house. Cursing to himself as he dashed across what was left of my bedside window and across my floor, he shouted "YOU STRUTLESS COWARD! YOU'VE SEWN THESE SEEDS WITH YOUR BLASTED IMPROVEMENTS AND YOU SHALL REAP THE WHIRLWIND!"

At least things weren't usually like this, I thought, sighing as I picked up a miniature block of wood planks. The admins weren't bad guys, just… Intense, for lack of a better word. Eccentric. And, in the cyborg's case, valid.

"CYRUS?!" I heard a voice call from outside, followed by the pounding of feet across quickly placed blocks, an alternating noise of wood and feet. Slenda soon appeared in my home's new entryway, her face melting from sorrowful shock to relief as she caught sight of me.

"Oh, thank Notch. I thought San had done something stupid and—"

"She did," I corrected, "But I'm alright."

A ragged sigh broke from Slenda as her shoulder's slumped, her brow pulling up in an understanding anguish. Rubbing her temples, she stepped into my room, her thick ponytail bobbing behind her as she walked. Her torn sweater had long been replaced by a purple tank and black cardigan. With her colorful top poking out from a dark cover, I couldn't help but think she looked like Roxxie.

"And she'd been doing so well, too..."

Slenda put a hand on my shoulder, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

You, uh… Been alright?" Slenda asked, gazing warily up at me, "Fine," I responded, "You?"

Slenda simply shrugged, offering a tired smile. I didn't pry, and I haven't tried to since the fight with Roxxie. She'd barely talked about that day since, and when it came up in conversation she tended to avoid it, and though I had my worries, I didn't want to make things worse. As much as we'd done for each other, I didn't know her well enough to make assumptions. Maybe she was grieving well enough on her own, or with San. It wasn't my place.

Before we could say much more, Slenda explained timidly that she just wanted to see if I was okay, and was glad that I was safe. I chuckled to myself, thinking, of course I'd be safe. Even if I died here, I could still respawn. Though, with a girlfriend who couldn't respawn and a sister who could never respawn again, I guess you could never be too careful. As she rounded the doorway, I called out to her, the curly ball of brown hair bouncing behind her head as she looked back at me.

"Hey, uh… If you ever need to talk about anything… Like, anything. You can talk to me, okay?"

Slenda's chest bobbed as if from a laugh, and she gave me a faded grin, saying "I appreciate the offer, Cy." Before nodding and going on her way. I felt empty, standing there in the middle of the floor, but I refused to let that take me over. Removing the book from my vest pocket and finding a comfortable spot on my bed, I looked to the leafy canopy of the jungle to bring color to my words, and once again began to write.

…

We each chose a small home, more like dorms than anything, and quickly went to place our things, San surprisingly the most eager to decorate. I've only seen fragments of the room through cracked doors and windows, but I can tell you with absolute certainty its contents; one double bed, a wall of bookcases, and a wall of TNT. Like two halves of an unsolvable whole. I could think of little to place in my room, and began to search through my inventory. I'd scraped up what I'd lost from my death at Giant's Way, though I neglected to truly search through it.

Wooden planks, in several varieties. Several paintings. Some dirt. And lots of sand. With a chuckle, I placed the painting, which spawned a beautiful seaside scene, and sat on the bed the admins had given me. It was so soft. I laid down, and, as if nothing had ever happened—as if I'd never nearly murdered a girl in the forest, as if I'd never gone to a strange server full of weebs and katanas and chaos, as if I'd never stopped a griefer and their mod of mass destruction, as if I never trekked across an endless desert filled with thieves, as if I never met a zombie waitress or a ghost thief, as if I never had the fight of my life and fell through the void back to the earth—I laid my head down, and I fell thoughtlessly to sleep. To rest.

My respawn point had been fixed.

…

Smiling at the words on the page, then at the hole in my home, I put the pen in its place and closed the book. I slid the book into place in my shelf, wondering where I would walk for the day. At the time, I had nothing more to add.