Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This was, without a doubt, the worst day of his entire existence.

Wemmbu had experienced a lot of terrible things in his time on this server. He'd been hunted, betrayed, blown up more times than he could count. He’d helped to defeat the Mafia. He destroyed PrinceZam Empire.

But this? This took the cake.

Because he was a cat.

A gods-damned, four-legged, fuzzy little cat.

Wemmbu shook himself violently, water flying from his curled ears—and yeah, those were new and weird and he hated them—and tried to piece together what the hell had happened. He'd woken up that morning feeling worse than usual in his makeshift bed. 

His perspective shifted down, way down. He'd looked at his hands—paws—and nearly had a heart attack.

No horns. No demon tail. Well, he had a tail, but it was a cat tail. Granted, it was twisted and spiked at the end like his usual demon tail, which was something, but still. Cat tail. Attached to a cat body.

He'd panicked. He'd run outside, maybe thinking the fresh air would help, maybe just fleeing on instinct. And then the sky had opened up and decided to dump rain on him like the universe had a personal vendetta.

Now here he was, trudging through mud that came up to his—ugh—paws, getting more drenched by the second, and the only shelter nearby was—

Flame's base.

Of course. Of course it was Flame's base.

Wemmbu stopped in the rain, his tail lashing behind him, and seriously considered just finding a tree to hide under. Flame was his rival. His enemy. The guy who'd probably laugh himself sick if he knew Wemmbu had managed to poison himself into becoming a cat. Showing up at his door as a pathetic wet cat was possibly the most humiliating thing Wemmbu could imagine.

Thunder cracked overhead, loud enough to make Wemmbu's new ears flatten against his skull, and he flinched so hard he nearly fell over.

Okay. Fine. Fine. Pride wasn't worth getting struck by lightning or drowning in a puddle because he was too small to climb out.

Just for tonight. He'd figure this out tomorrow. He'd stay hidden, Flame wouldn't recognize him—how could he?—and in the morning he'd leave and never speak of this again. Easy. Simple.

Wemmbu forced himself forward, each step squelching in the mud. His fur was plastered to his body, making him look even smaller and more pathetic than he already felt. By the time he reached Flame's door, he was shivering so hard his teeth were chattering.

He sat down, curled his stupid twisted tail around his paws, and did something that made his soul shrivel up and die.

He meowed.

Soft. Pitiful. The kind of sound that made humans go all soft and stupid.

He wanted to claw his own ears off. If he had his normal body, his retractable demon claws, he'd be using them to dig a hole and bury himself alive right now.

The door opened.

Wemmbu looked up, rain dripping from his whiskers, and met Flame's eyes.

"Oh bro, no way," Flame said, and his expression went all soft and concerned in a way that made Wemmbu want to bite him. "Dude, you're soaked!"

Flame crouched down, and Wemmbu tensed. This was it. The moment of truth. Would Flame recognize him? Would his purple eyes give him away?

But Flame just reached out slowly, carefully, like Wemmbu was some fragile thing that might bolt. "It's okay, little guy. You're safe."

Little guy.

Wemmbu was going to kill him. When he got his body back, when he had his horns and his tail and his claws again, he was going to hunt Flame down and make him regret every single word.

But right now, he was cold and wet and miserable, so when Flame scooped him up, Wemmbu went rigid but didn't fight it. Flame's hands were warm—stupid blaze hybrid and his stupid fire powers—and despite everything, it felt good against Wemmbu's soaked fur.

He hated this. He hated everything about this.

The door shut behind them, and immediately Wemmbu heard it.

Barking.

Loud, excited barking that was getting closer by the second.

Oh no.

A large dog—some kind of husky mix with bright, intelligent eyes—came bounding around the corner, tail wagging. The moment it spotted Wemmbu in Flame's arms, it skidded to a halt and the wagging stopped. The dog's ears went up, alert, and it started barking. Aggressive, warning barks.

Wemmbu's fur puffed up instantly, making him look twice his size. His ears flattened against his skull and a hiss tore from his throat before he could stop it. Every instinct in his body was screaming.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Flame quickly adjusted his grip on Wemmbu, holding him higher and away from the dog. "Ashen, no! It's okay, boy. Easy."

The dog—Ashen—kept barking, bouncing on his front paws, clearly very concerned about this strange cat his human had brought home. Wemmbu hissed again, louder this time, his twisted tail puffed up to twice its normal size. He could feel his claws extending, ready to shred if that dog got any closer.

This was Flame's dog. The same dog Wemmbu had seen during one of their fights. And now Wemmbu was small and helpless and the dog probably wanted to eat him.

"Ashen, sit!" Flame commanded, and to Wemmbu's surprise, the dog actually obeyed, dropping onto his haunches. Still tense, still watching Wemmbu with those bright eyes, but sitting. "Good boy. It's okay, bro. This is... uh, this is a guest. A guest cat. We're being nice."

Ashen whined, clearly not convinced this was a good idea.

Wemmbu was still hissing, pressed as far back into Flame's chest as he could get. He hated this. He hated being scared of a dog. He usually liked dogs! But right now, with his cat body screaming that this was a threat, he couldn't help it.

"Easy, little dude," Flame murmured, and one of his hands started stroking Wemmbu's back, trying to calm him down. "Ashen's not gonna hurt you. He's a good boy. Just protective. Right, Ashen?"

The dog's tail gave a small, uncertain wag.

Flame slowly crouched down, still holding Wemmbu securely. "Look, see? He's friendly." He looked at his dog seriously. "Ashen, we're gonna be nice to the cat. He's had a rough night. Got caught in the rain. So no barking, no chasing. Understand?"

Ashen tilted his head, then gave a small "woof" that sounded almost apologetic.

Wemmbu's hissing died down to a low growl, but his fur was still puffed up. He watched the dog warily. Ashen watched him back.

"There we go," Flame said, standing back up. "See? Everyone's calm now. Ashen, go lay down."

The dog hesitated for a moment, gave Wemmbu one last suspicious look, then trotted off to a corner of the base where there was a dog bed. He circled it a few times before flopping down, but his eyes never left Wemmbu.

Wemmbu's heart was still racing. That had been... not great. He forced his fur to lie flat again, tried to look less terrified. He had some dignity to maintain, even if he'd just hissed like a scared kitten at a dog.

Flame carried him over to the furnace, pointedly away from where Ashen was lying. "Sorry about that, bro. Should've warned you I had a dog. You two just gotta get used to each other."

Get used to each other. Like Wemmbu was staying long-term. Like this was going to be a regular thing.

Wemmbu let out a low growl that was somewhat similar to his growling in his human body. 

"Hey, I'm helping you, dude," Flame protested, but he was grinning. Like this was funny. "Man, you're a grumpy little thing, huh? You remind me of someone.” 

Grumpy. Little. Thing.

Wemmbu's mental list of ways to murder Flame was growing by the second. Stabbing him. Orbital Strike Cannon. Pushing his dead body off a cliff. Maybe all three in succession.

"Where'd you even come from?" Flame continued, working the towel over Wemmbu's back. The touch was gentle, methodical, and Wemmbu's fur was starting to fluff up as it dried. "Don't think I've seen you around before. Those eyes are wild, bro."

Wemmbu just glared at him. If looks could kill, Flame would be a pile of ash right now.

Flame laughed. Actually laughed. "Not much of a talker, huh? That's cool. I'm more of a dog person anyway, but I'm not gonna leave you out in the rain."

Dog person. Of course Flame was a dog person. The irony was not lost on him, and it made him want to scream.

Flame's hand reached up to scratch behind one of Wemmbu's curled ears, and—

Oh no.

Oh no.

It felt good. Really good. The kind of good that made Wemmbu's eyes start to close and a rumble build in his chest before he even realized what was happening.

He was purring.

Wemmbu caught himself immediately, cutting off the sound, but the damage was done. Flame's grin had gotten even wider.

"Aw, you do like it," Flame teased. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

That was it. Wemmbu was going to bite him.

He lunged forward and sank his teeth into Flame's hand. 

"Ow! Okay, okay, no more ear scratches. Got it." Flame pulled his hand back, but he didn't even look mad. Just amused.

Wemmbu wanted to bite him again.

"You hungry?" Flame asked, standing up and moving over to his chests. "I don't really have cat food, bro, but I've got some fish somewhere…"

Food. Okay. Wemmbu could admit he was hungry. He'd burned through a lot of energy panicking about being a cat, and he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

Flame pulled out some cooked salmon and broke off a piece, offering it to Wemmbu. Those weird purple irises studied Flame for a long moment. Was this a trick? Was Flame going to pull it away at the last second? Make fun of him?

But Flame just held the fish out patiently, waiting.

Fine. Wemmbu leaned forward and delicately took the fish from Flame's hand. It was actually pretty good. He hadn't realized how much better his sense of smell was as a cat, and the salmon tasted amazing.

He still wanted to murder Flame, though. That hadn't changed.

"There we go," Flame said, sounding satisfied. He sat down on the floor next to Wemmbu, watching him eat. "You can stay the night. Storm should pass by morning. Then we'll figure out where you belong, yeah?"

Wemmbu paused mid-bite to give Flame his flattest, most unimpressed stare. Where he belonged? He belonged somewhere in his actual body, not being a cat.

"Mysterious and grumpy," Flame noted, propping his chin on his hand. "You're making this interesting, little dude."

Little dude.

The murder list was getting very, very long.

Wemmbu finished his fish and sat there, trying to figure out his next move. He needed to stay here tonight—that much was non-negotiable. But he also needed to maintain some dignity. He couldn't let Flame keep petting him and talking to him like he was some cute stray.

Flame reached out again, and Wemmbu tensed, ready to bite. But Flame just ran his hand down Wemmbu's back in one long, slow stroke.

And it felt… nice.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

But Flame did it again, and Wemmbu's traitorous body started to relax despite his brain screaming at him to stop. The warmth from Flame's hand seeped into his fur, chasing away the last of the cold from the rain. Another stroke. Another.

Wemmbu's eyes were starting to close. This was terrible. This was a nightmare. He was going to kill Flame so hard when he got his body back that there wouldn't even be ash left.

But right now… right now he was warm and dry and fed, and Flame's hand kept moving in those slow, steady strokes, and the purr was building in his chest again and he was too tired to stop it this time.

Wemmbu woke up to warmth.

Not the warmth of the furnace—something different. Softer. Moving slightly with steady breaths.

His eyes cracked open, still bleary with sleep, and he realized with slowly dawning horror that he was curled up on Flame's chest.

On. Flame's. Chest.

On his enemy's chest. The same chest he'd tried to stab with a sword multiple times.

Flame was asleep, lying on his back on the floor—must have fallen asleep watching over him, the idiot—and Wemmbu had apparently decided at some point during the night that Flame made an acceptable bed. His twisted tail was curled around his body. His head was tucked against Flame's collarbone. He could hear Flame's heartbeat, steady and strong.

Wemmbu needed to move. He needed to get off of Flame before the guy woke up and made this even more humiliating.

But Flame was warm. That stupid blaze hybrid body heat was like a magnet, and Wemmbu's cat instincts were telling him that this was the perfect sleeping spot and he should stay right here forever.

No. Absolutely not. He had some dignity left.

Wemmbu tried to shift, but the movement must have registered because Flame's hand came up—still mostly asleep—and started scratching the top of Wemmbu's head.

And Wemmbu… Wemmbu leaned into it.

He hated himself. He hated his cat body. He hated that it felt good and his eyes were closing again and the purr was starting up before he could stop it.

Flame made a sleepy humming noise, his fingers moving behind Wemmbu's curled ears, and Wemmbu was doomed. Absolutely doomed.

When he got his body back, he was going to kill Flame. Slowly. Painfully. He'd already planned it out—lava pit seemed like poetic justice for a blaze hybrid. Maybe he'd dangle Flame over it first. Make him beg for mercy.

But right now, traitorous cat body and all, he just… stayed there. Warm and comfortable and purring, because apparently he had no self-control whatsoever when it came to warm things and head scratches.

"Bro, you're kind of heavy for a cat," Flame mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

Heavy. Heavy. Wemmbu was going to push him into that lava pit twice.

But Flame didn't push him off. Just kept scratching his head, gentle and careful, and Wemmbu couldn't bring himself to move.

Just a little longer. Just until Flame properly woke up. Then he'd jump off and pretend this never happened.

The minutes ticked by. The sun was starting to filter through the windows, casting warm light across the floor. Birds were chirping outside. The storm had passed.

Wemmbu should move. He really, really should move.

He didn't move.

Flame's breathing changed, becoming less deep, more aware. His hand stilled on Wemmbu's head.

"Okay, little dude, time to get up," Flame said, and Wemmbu felt himself being carefully shifted off Flame's chest.

He made a noise of protest—an actual cat noise, not words—and immediately wanted to die. But he rolled over onto the floor, curling into a ball, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. Maybe if he pretended to sleep, Flame would just leave him alone.

He heard Flame moving around, getting dressed, splashing water on his face. Preparing to leave.

To get cat food.

For him.

Wemmbu was going to commit arson. Specifically targeted at this base. Maybe while Flame was sleeping.

"Lazy," Flame said, but there was amusement in his voice.

Wemmbu's tail flicked in irritation, but he kept his eyes closed.

He heard Flame moving toward the door, heard the clink of a sword being picked up. Good. The guy was leaving. Finally.

And then—

The world lurched.

Everything felt like it was expanding, stretching, pulling in ways that made Wemmbu want to throw up. His bones ached. His skin felt too tight and then too loose. Colors exploded behind his closed eyelids.

And then it stopped.

Wemmbu lay there for a moment, trying to breathe through the nausea. Something felt different. Everything felt different.

He opened his eyes.

The ceiling was closer. No—he was taller. And when he looked down, he didn't see paws.

He saw hands.

Human hands. His hands. With his retractable demon claws tucked safely away.

Oh thank everything unholy—

"What the—" Flame's voice cut through Wemmbu's relief. "Wemmbu?!"

No.

No.

Wemmbu's head snapped up, and he met Flame's eyes across the room. Flame was standing by the door, sword forgotten, staring at Wemmbu with his jaw hanging open.

Wemmbu pushed himself up on his elbows, feeling his horns—his horns, finally—catching the morning light. His demon tail swayed behind him, and he'd never been so happy to feel it.

"Flame?" Wemmbu's voice came out rough, unused after hours of being a cat. "Why am I in your base?"

Maybe—maybe—he could play this off. Pretend he'd just woken up here. Act confused. Flame didn't know. Flame couldn't know.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

And then Flame started laughing.

Not just laughing—cackling. Doubled over, clutching his stomach, barely able to breathe.

Wemmbu's soul left his body.

"Oh my god," Flame wheezed. "Oh my GOD, bro. You—you were the cat?!"

"No," Wemmbu said flatly, scrambling to his feet. His tail lashed behind him in agitation. "No, that didn't happen."

"Dude, you were purring!" Flame could barely get the words out between fits of laughter. "You fell asleep on my chest! I was gonna go buy you cat food!"

This was it. This was how Wemmbu died. Not in battle, not in some epic confrontation, but from pure, unadulterated humiliation.

"Shut up," Wemmbu snapped, his claws extending slightly in threat. "That—nothing happened. You hallucinated. You hit your head. Something."

"Bro, you bit me!" Flame held up his hand, showing the tiny marks. They were barely visible, already healing, but they were there. "And you showed up at my base! Out of everyone on this server, you came to me!"

"It was the closest base," Wemmbu snapped. "And you're making this up."

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

"You had curled ears and the weirdest tail I've ever seen on a cat!" Flame was grinning now, that predatory, delighted grin that meant Wemmbu was never going to hear the end of this. "And you liked it when I pet you."

"I did not—"

"You purred, Wemmbu."

Wemmbu's face felt hot. He wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

"That was—" He tried to find words, any words. "Look, something went wrong, and I just—I needed somewhere to stay for the night."

"So you came here?" Flame's grin widened, and Wemmbu wanted to punch it off his face. Wanted to remind Flame that they were enemies, that this changed nothing. "To my base? Your biggest rival's base? Aw, bro, I'm touched. You really do care."

"It was close," Wemmbu said through gritted teeth, his tail whipping behind him in sharp, angry movements. "That's all."

"Sure, sure." Flame started walking over, and Wemmbu tensed, but all Flame did was reach up and pretend to scratch behind where Wemmbu's cat ear would've been. "Who's a good kitty?"

That was it.

Wemmbu swatted Flame's hand away, harder than necessary, and seriously considered following through on all those murder fantasies. "I will actually kill you."

They stared at each other. Flame was clearly enjoying this way too much, his eyes bright with amusement and victory—like he'd won their rivalry in the most unexpected way possible. Wemmbu was weighing the pros and cons of actual murder versus just disappearing forever and never showing his face on this server again.

The worst part was that Flame had ammunition now. Real, actual blackmail material.

Flame started laughing again, and despite himself—despite the humiliation, despite everything—Wemmbu felt his lips twitch. Not quite a smile. Definitely not a smile. But… something.

"This never happened," Wemmbu said firmly, crossing his arms. His tail was still lashing, but less aggressively now.

"Oh, this definitely happened, bro," Flame countered, his grin never faltering. "And I'm never letting you forget it."

"You're the worst." Wemmbu meant it. Sort of. Maybe.

"Says the guy who showed up on my doorstep meowing for help."

Wemmbu made a strangled noise that was half growl, half dying. "I'm leaving."

He headed for the door, trying to maintain whatever scraps of dignity he had left. He made it two steps before Flame called after him.

"You want breakfast first? I've got salmon! You liked it last night!"

"I hate you so much," Wemmbu threw over his shoulder, but his tail gave a little twitch that was almost playful.

He heard Flame laugh behind him as he pushed out the door into the morning sunlight.

The rain had stopped. The world looked clean and fresh. Birds were singing. It was a beautiful day.

He wanted to kill himself.

Chapter Text

There was something deeply satisfying about watching chunguses scramble and panic as Flame's sword cut through their armor like butter. His fire powers flared around him, small flames dancing across his skin as he dodged a poorly-aimed arrow and retaliated with a critical hit.

"Come on, bro!" Flame laughed, spinning to parry another attack. "You guys aren't even trying!"

"Shut up and die already!" one of them shouted back, but their voice was shaking.

Flame grinned. This was what he lived for. The thrill of combat, the rush of adrenaline, the absolute dominance when he knew he had the upper hand. Two of them were already down. Three more to go.

He raised his sword for another strike, flames licking up the blade—

And then his body lurched.

Pain shot through him like lightning, sharp and sudden and wrong. His vision swam. The world tilted sideways, and suddenly everything was growing—no, he was shrinking. His sword clattered to the ground, too heavy for his rapidly changing hands—paws—

"What the—" someone started to say, but Flame didn't hear the rest.

Because he was on four legs.

Four. Legs.

Panic seized him immediately. His body was wrong, all wrong. Too small, too low to the ground, and his perspective had shifted so dramatically that for a moment he couldn't process what he was seeing. Where was his sword? Where were his hands? Why couldn't he feel his fire?

Flame's ears—dog ears, oh god—swiveled toward the voices. They were looking for a person, not a—

A dog.

Flame bolted.

He didn't think, didn't plan, just ran on instinct. His new body moved differently, all four legs pumping as he crashed through the underbrush. The vision of a dog was weird, all the colours were different, too different. Behind him, he heard shouts of confusion, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The forest loomed ahead, dark and dense, and Flame dove into it without hesitation.

Branches whipped at his face. His paws—paws, he had paws—scrambled over roots and rocks. Everything was too loud, too sharp, too much. His hearing was different, more sensitive, and he could smell things he'd never noticed before: damp earth, rotting leaves, his own fear-scent.

Finally, when his lungs were burning and his legs were shaking, Flame found a bush and dove underneath it. He pressed himself as far back as he could go, trying to make himself small, trying to breathe.

What the hell just happened? What the hell just happened?!

He looked down at himself. Paws. Four of them. Covered in fur—white before going into brown and black, but still. Fur. A tail that was currently tucked between his legs because he was terrified and apparently that's what dogs did when they were scared. His blindfold was tied around his tail as he looked closer.

Flame wanted to scream. Instead, a small whine escaped his throat, high-pitched and pathetic.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. He was supposed to be winning that fight! He was supposed to be standing over their bodies, maybe taking their loot if they were particularly useful!

Instead, he was a dog hiding in a bush.

"—has to be around here somewhere!"

Flame froze. The voices were getting closer. The remaining three players—he couldn't remember their names, some random guys who'd jumped him—were stomping through the forest, clearly still searching for him.

"This doesn't make any sense," one of them complained. "He just vanished!"

"Maybe he had an ender pearl?"

"We would've seen it!"

"Well, he's gone, so what do you want me to say?!"

They were close. Too close. Flame pressed himself further into the bush, his heart hammering. Could they smell him? Could they hear his breathing? He tried to stay as still as possible, barely daring to breathe.

Please don't find me. Please don't find me. Please don't—

A sword suddenly cut through the bush above him, and Flame nearly yelped. But the blade missed him by inches, and after a moment, the player moved on.

"There's nothing here!"

"Keep looking! He couldn't have gotten far!"

Their voices started to fade as they moved deeper into the forest, and Flame let out a shaky breath. Okay. Okay. He was safe. For now.

But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't go back to his base like this. He couldn't fight, couldn't build, couldn't do anything useful. He was just a dog. A scared, wet—wait, it was starting to rain—a scared, wet, useless dog.

Flame's ears drooped. This was humiliating. If anyone found out about this, he'd never live it down. Especially if—

No.

Especially if Wemmbu found out.

Wemmbu. His greatest rival. His worst enemy. The guy who'd probably laugh himself sick if he saw Flame like this. The guy who'd already stolen enough of Flame's dignity in their countless fights.

Flame would rather die than let Wemmbu see him as a dog.

The rain started coming down harder, and Flame curled into a tighter ball under the bush. Cold water dripped through the leaves, soaking into his fur. He was shivering now, his new body not handling the cold nearly as well as his blaze hybrid body usually did.

He missed his fire. He missed his hands. He missed being human.

How did this even happen? Had someone cursed him? Was it some kind of potion? A glitch in the server?

Flame didn't know. All he knew was that he was stuck like this, at least for now, and he needed to figure out what to do next.

But first, he needed those three idiots to give up and leave.

Wemmbu was having a pretty good day, all things considered.

He'd heard the sounds of combat. Curiosity had drawn him closer, and he'd arrived just in time to see Flame absolutely demolishing some group of players.

Typical Flame. Show-off.

Wemmbu had been about to leave—watching Flame win fights wasn't exactly entertaining—when something weird happened. Flame had just… vanished in a blur, too fast to see properly nor clearly. Mid-fight. One second he was there, sword raised, fire blazing. The next second, gone. 

The three remaining players looked just as confused as Wemmbu felt.

"Where'd he go?!"

"He just—disappeared!"

"Look for him! He has to be here somewhere!"

Wemmbu watched from the shadows as the three players started searching frantically, crashing through the underbrush like a herd of confused cattle. They were heading toward the forest.

Idiots.

Wemmbu followed at a distance, more curious than anything. What had happened to Flame? Had he ender-pearled away? Used some kind of escape mechanism? It wasn't like Flame to run from a fight he was winning.

The three players were spreading out, searching through bushes and behind trees, calling out to each other. They were making so much noise that Wemmbu could track them easily even without seeing them.

"This is stupid," one of them said. "He's probably long gone by now."

"We can't just give up! He killed our teammates!"

"Yeah, and he'll kill us too if we find him!"

They were scared. And sloppy. And Wemmbu was getting bored.

Also, they were kind of insulting. Stumbling around a random forest, making a mess, looking for Flame like they actually had a chance of—

You know what? Screw it.

Wemmbu stepped out from behind a tree, his horns catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. His tail swished behind him lazily.

"Looking for something?" he asked.

All three players whirled around, weapons raised. Their eyes went wide when they saw him.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Did you see where Flame went?!"

Wemmbu tilted his head, his eyes studying them with amusement. "Flame? Haven't seen him. But I did see three idiots stumbling around making enough noise to wake the dead."

One of them bristled. "We're not—"

Wemmbu moved.

His retractable demon claws extended in a flash, and he was on them before they could react. These weren't skilled fighters—they were the kind of players who jumped others in groups because they couldn't win fair fights. Easy pickings.

The first one went down in seconds, his armor no match for Wemmbu's claws and speed. The second tried to run and got a sword through the back for his trouble. The third actually managed to get a hit in—a glancing blow that barely scratched Wemmbu's armor—before Wemmbu's tail whipped around and the other player tripped over it.

"Wait, wait—!" the third player started, hands up.

Wemmbu didn't wait. One clean strike, and the player dissolved into pixels, experience rising from the body.

Silence fell over the forest.

Wemmbu stood there for a moment, cleaning his claws with a satisfied expression. That had been almost too easy. But hey, at least it was something to do.

He started walking back the way he came, figuring he might as well loot their stuff before it despawned since these players actually had some pearls and gapples, when he heard it.

A whimper.

Soft, barely audible over the rain, but definitely there.

Wemmbu froze. His ears perked up. He turned slowly, scanning the underbrush.

There. A bush, dense and dark, about twenty feet away. And underneath it…

Wemmbu approached cautiously, his tail swishing in curiosity. He crouched down and pushed aside some branches, peering into the shadows.

A dog stared back at him.

Big. Tricolored fur of black, brown and white, though currently matted and soaked from the rain. Dark eyes that looked… weirdly intelligent. And absolutely terrified.

"What the…" Wemmbu muttered. "What's a dog doing out here?"

The dog whimpered again, pressing itself further back into the bush. It was shaking, whether from cold or fear, Wemmbu couldn't tell.

Wemmbu sat back on his heels, studying the animal. It didn't have a collar. Didn't look like it belonged to anyone. Just a stray that had gotten caught in the rain and was hiding from the storm.

Or… hiding from those players?

Wemmbu glanced back the way he'd come. The players had been searching for Flame. And this dog had been hiding in the exact area they'd been searching.

Coincidence?

Probably.

But there was something about the dog's eyes that made Wemmbu pause. They were looking at him with an expression that was too knowing, too aware. Almost like—

No. That was ridiculous.

"Come here," Wemmbu said, reaching into the bush. The dog flinched back, but Wemmbu was patient. "I'm not gonna hurt you, dude. You're soaked. Let me help."

The dog hesitated for a long moment, those dark eyes studying Wemmbu's face. Then, slowly, it started to inch forward.

Wemmbu managed to get his hands around the dog's torso and carefully pulled it out from under the bush. It was heavier than he expected—definitely a big dog—and absolutely drenched. The moment it was free, it shook itself, spraying water everywhere.

"Hey!" Wemmbu protested, but he was smiling despite himself. "Warn a guy first, would you?"

The dog looked up at him, and Wemmbu could swear it looked apologetic.

Weird.

"Alright, come on," Wemmbu said, standing up. The dog stood too, shaking itself again, and Wemmbu noticed it was limping slightly. "You hurt?"

The dog lifted one paw, and Wemmbu saw a small cut on the pad. Not serious, but probably painful.

"Yeah, let's get you patched up," Wemmbu decided. "I know someone who's good with animals. Egg won't mind. He's got a whole setup for this kind of thing. I’m not the best with animal injuries.”

The dog's ears perked up at the name, and it tilted its head.

"What, you know Egg?" Wemmbu joked. "Small world."

He noticed the black piece of fabric tied to the end of the dog’s tail. It looked like a stained bandanna, or maybe… a blindfold? It looked purposefully tied to the tail, like a way for the dog’s non-existent owner to identify their dog in a crowd.

It looked way too tightly tied on the dog’s tail. He reached for the fabric. 

“Hey, buddy, I’m gonna untie this, alright?” Wemmbu started, tail swishing lazily. 

The dog’s reaction startled him. A rather indignant bark escaped the dog, a change from the quiet dog from before. Wemmbu immediately stopped his movement and raised both hands. 

“Alright Alright, tail’s off limits.” Wemmbu said with a rather amused smile.

He patted the dog’s head fur and started walking, and after a moment's hesitation, the dog followed. It limped along beside him, occasionally glancing up at Wemmbu like it couldn't quite believe this was happening.

Wemmbu didn't mind. And this dog seemed… different, somehow. Smart. Too smart, maybe.

As they walked through the forest, Wemmbu found himself talking to the dog. "So, what's your story, huh? You run away from someone? Get lost?" The dog made a small huffing sound that could've been agreement or disagreement. "Yeah, I feel that. This server's pretty chaotic. Easy to get turned around."

The rain started to let up as they reached the edge of the forest. The nearest stronghold was surprisingly close to here.

"He's gonna love you," Wemmbu continued. “You’ll probably make him happier in the End.”

The dog made another sound, this one almost like a groan.

"What, you don't want to go?" Wemmbu glanced down, amused. "Too bad. You're getting help whether you like it or not."

They walked in companionable silence for a while, and Wemmbu found himself oddly relaxed. Usually he was on edge, always watching for threats, always ready to go invisible and flee. But right now, with just a random dog limping beside him, he felt… calm.

It was nice.

"You know," Wemmbu said after a while, "you kind of remind me of someone. Can't put my finger on it, though." The dog's ear twitched. "Something about the color of your fur, maybe. Or the attitude. You've got this whole vibe going on."

The dog huffed again, and Wemmbu laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm probably imagining things. You're just a dog."

But even as he said it, something nagged at the back of his mind. The timing was weird. Flame disappearing, and then suddenly there's a dog hiding in the exact spot Flame should've been. A dog with weirdly intelligent eyes. A black piece of fabric tied to its tail.

Nah. That was impossible.

…Right?

Wemmbu shook his head, dismissing the thought. He was being paranoid. Flame had probably just ender-pearled away and this was just a random stray.

Still, as they continued walking, Wemmbu couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this dog than met the eye.

Flame was having a crisis.

Multiple crises, actually.

Crisis number one: He was still a dog.

Crisis number two: Wemmbu had found him.

Crisis number three: Wemmbu was taking him to Egg.

This was a nightmare. This was worse than a nightmare. This was a nightmare's nightmare.

When Wemmbu had first appeared outside the bush, Flame had nearly bolted. Of all the people on this server, Wemmbu was literally the last person that Flame wanted to see him like this.

But Wemmbu had just… helped him.

Pulled him out of the bush, checked him over for injuries, decided to take him to get help. Like Flame was just some random stray and not his greatest rival who'd been actively trying to kill him for months.

It was disorienting.

And kind of… nice?

No. No, it was not nice. It was humiliating. Flame was supposed to be intimidating! Powerful! Not some injured dog getting carried around by his enemy like a lost puppy!

He wanted to bite Wemmbu. Or bark at him. But his paw hurt, he was cold and wet, and honestly? Wemmbu's presence was kind of… comforting for now.

Which made Flame want to bite him even more.

"So, what's your story, huh?" Wemmbu was saying, and Flame's ear twitched. "You run away from someone? Get lost?"

I'm not a dog, Flame wanted to say. I'm Flame. Your rival. Your enemy.

Instead, he made a huffing sound that even he had to admit sounded pretty dog-like.

"Yeah, I feel that. This server's pretty chaotic. Easy to get turned around."

They kept walking, and Flame found himself watching Wemmbu's tail swish back and forth. It was weird seeing Wemmbu from this angle—from down here, everything looked different. Bigger. More intimidating.

Wemmbu's horns caught the fading sunlight as they emerged from the forest. His demon tail swayed with each step, that twisted, spiked end occasionally flicking in what Flame had learned over their many fights meant Wemmbu was relaxed.

Wemmbu was relaxed around him.

Because he didn't know it was Flame.

The thought made Flame's stomach twist with something he couldn't quite name.

“He's gonna love you," Wemmbu continued. “You’ll probably make him happier in the End.”

Flame groaned. He couldn't help it. The sound came out before he could stop it.

"What, you don't want to go?" Wemmbu glanced down, amused. "Too bad. You're getting help whether you like it or not."

I'm not staying, Flame wanted to say. The second I figure out how to turn back, I'm out of here.

But he didn't know how to turn back. He didn't even know what had caused this in the first place.

They walked in silence for a bit, and Flame found himself oddly… content? Which was wrong on so many levels. He should be panicking. Planning his escape. Figuring out how to communicate what happened.

Instead, he was just… walking next to Wemmbu. Limping along like a regular injured dog. Letting his enemy help him.

This was so messed up.

"You know," Wemmbu said suddenly, "you kind of remind me of someone. Can't put my finger on it, though."

Flame's heart skipped a beat. His ears perked up, alert. Did Wemmbu know? Had he figured it out?

"Something about the color of your fur, maybe. Or the attitude. You've got this whole vibe going on."

Flame huffed indignantly.

Wemmbu laughed at his reaction. "Yeah, yeah, I'm probably imagining things. You're just a dog."

I'm not just a dog, Flame wanted to protest. But he couldn't. So he just kept walking, his tail—tail, he had a tail, this was so weird—hanging low between his legs.

They walked for what felt like forever. The rain had stopped completely now, but Flame was still soaked through. His paw still hurt. And he was starting to get hungry, which was another weird thing—his stomach felt different as a dog. Everything felt different.

Finally, they reached what looked like a stronghold entrance. The End portal. Flame recognized it immediately—he'd been here before, though not recently. 

"Egg lives in the end," Wemmbu explained, as if Flame didn’t already know that.

They approached the stronghold entrance, descending the stone steps. The End portal room was just ahead.

And that's when he felt it.

That same lurching sensation from before, like the world was tilting sideways. His body started to ache, then hurt, then—

No. Not now. Not HERE.

"Whoa, you okay?" Wemmbu had stopped, looking down at him with concern.

Flame tried to walk, tried to act normal, but his legs were shaking. The portal room was right there, just a few more steps, but his body was betraying him.

"What the—" Wemmbu backed up.

The transformation took maybe ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

When it was done, Flame was sprawled on the cold stone floor of the stronghold corridor, completely human again. His clothes magically appeared on his body somehow, his blindfold back on his eyes.

Silence.

Complete, absolute silence.

Flame looked up slowly, meeting Wemmbu's eyes.

Wemmbu was staring at him, mouth slightly open, his eyes wide with shock. His tail had gone completely still behind him.

"...Flame?" Wemmbu's voice was barely a whisper.

"Hey, bro," Flame said weakly, trying for his usual casual tone and failing miserably. "So, uh. Funny story."

"You—" Wemmbu's tail started lashing now, sharp angry movements. "You were the dog?"

"Yeah."

"The dog I just—the dog I carried through the forest—the dog I was taking to get help—"

"That was me, yeah."

"Flame."

Flame pushed himself into a sitting position, very aware that he was vulnerable and his greatest enemy was standing over him looking like he didn't know whether to laugh or commit murder. "Look, I didn't exactly plan this, okay? It just happened. During that fight."

"The fight where you disappeared."

"I didn't disappear, I turned into a dog and ran, bro. Big difference."

Wemmbu was still staring at him like he'd grown a second head. Which, honestly, would probably be less weird than turning into a dog. "And you just... let me help you? You could've run away. You could've hidden somewhere else. But you let me—"

"You were being nice!" Flame protested. "What was I supposed to do, bite you?"

"You did bite those other guys when you were fighting them!"

"That was different!"

"How?!"

Flame didn't have an answer for that. He just sat there on the cold stone floor, embarrassed and wishing very much that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

Wemmbu dragged a hand down his face, his claws leaving faint marks on his own skin. "This is insane. This is actually insane." He looked at Flame again. "How long have you been able to turn into a dog?"

"I can't! This was the first time! I don't even know how it happened!"

"And you just... turned back? Just now?"

"I guess?" Flame looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. They felt normal again. Human. "I don't know what triggered it either way, bro. I'm just as confused as you are."

Wemmbu was quiet for a long moment, his tail still lashing. Then, slowly, he started to laugh.

Not the mocking laugh Flame had expected. Something more genuine, more disbelieving. "I can't believe—" Wemmbu cut himself off, laughing harder. "I carried you. I pet you. I told you that you reminded me of—oh my god."

Flame felt his face heat up. "Can we not talk about that?"

"You were limping. Looking all sad and pathetic. And I felt bad for you!"

"I was sad and pathetic! I was a dog!"

Wemmbu was doubled over now, one hand braced against the wall, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "This is—this is the best thing—I can't—"

"Are you done?" Flame asked irritably.

"No. No, I'm not done." Wemmbu straightened up, wiping his eyes. His eyes were bright with amusement. "I'm never going to be done with this. This is going to be my favorite memory forever."

"I hate you so much."

"You literally came to me for help!"

"You found me!"

“But you didn’t back away!"

"I know!" Flame threw his hands up. "And it was weird! We're supposed to be enemies!”

That seemed to give Wemmbu pause. His laughter died down, and he looked at Flame with an expression that was hard to read. 

They stared at each other for a moment, the weight of that admission hanging between them.

"So," Wemmbu said after a moment. "We're just... not going to tell anyone about this, right?"

Flame looked up sharply. "You'd keep it secret?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Wemmbu's tail swished. "Yeah, it's hilarious, and yeah, I'm going to hold this over you forever. But..." He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "You were vulnerable. You needed help. I'm not going to broadcast that to the server just to humiliate you."

Flame blinked. That was... unexpected. And kind of touching. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still going to make fun of you for this."

"I figured."

Flame stood up, testing his legs. Everything seemed to work normally. His hand still had the small cut, but it was healing. He looked at Wemmbu, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"So," Flame said. "Are we going to fight now? Is this where our rivalry gets back to normal?"

Wemmbu considered this. "Nah. Not today. You just turned back into a human. Probably need time to... regear.”

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Wemmbu pushed off the wall. "Go home, Flame. Rest. We'll go back to trying to kill each other tomorrow."

He started to walk away, back toward the entrance.

"Wemmbu," Flame called after him.

Wemmbu paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Flame said. "For... helping. Even if you didn't know it was me."

Wemmbu's expression softened, just slightly. "Yeah, well. Don't get used to it." But there was no bite to his words.

Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the stronghold, and Flame was alone.

Flame stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where Wemmbu had been. His hand unconsciously touched the small wound where his paw had been cut.

What has his life come to.