Chapter Text
…
a bright light.
…
“Connor, wake up man, please-” A familiar voice said.
…
“CONNOR!”
Connor jolted up, looking all around him. Luminal space, complete blank.
Prime? Is it actually real? Maybe Connor should’ve visited Prime Church more often-
“Hello?” Connor croaked out into the white void.
A sudden rumble occurred, a man appearing in front of him.
“Hi mate!” the (angel?) man said.
Connor looked at him, still laying on the floor.
“Am I dead?” Connor retorted.
“Well, yeah, what did you think you were?” the painfully British angel said.
He looked back at Connor, holding his hand out.
“Phil, Philza minecraft. Angel of death, at your service.” he said as Connor took his hand.
Connor looked around. It looked like it was just a flat surface of white for miles.
“Is this it?” Connor plainly asked.
“Not exactly, we do need you for something.” Phil said, turning around and fluttering his wings.
Phil's wings were massive. Hell, put both wings next to each other and you’ve got a city bus from smplive.
Wait.
“Smplive!” Connor suddenly gasped. “What happened to it? Am I the only dead person? Is everyone okay?”
Phil sighed, giving him a pitying look that Connor had to take in. “Sorry mate. Not a lot.” is all he said.
He didn’t respond. Connor had to be in shock, no way he should be reacting like a bug was squished.
Phil turned back, walking away from connor. “Anyway. The prime’s gods want to see you. Come along, they’re not very happy with slow entrances.”
Connor followed him at a slow pace, still taking in the simple answer Phil had given him.
All of the sudden, out of the white mass, a door appeared. Phil opened it and allowed Connor in first, closing the door behind him. Connor was alone now.
He took a few steps forward, uneasy. “.. Hello? Anyone? Schlatt? Ty?”
“Ah, Connor!” another unfamiliar and distorted voice said. Connor looked further ahead, seeing a very, very tall man. He had a very unusual ‘head’, that being an orb with two rings looped around it. He seemed to have no visible or existing neck, and it had been wearing a long forest-green cloak.
“Good timing. I'm the god of creation, Prime’s greatest creation, funnily enough. Call me XD.” he introduced himself. “But let’s get to the point. we need you.”
Connor looked at him. They needed him. A scam artist.
“Yeah, excuse me, your Prime, or whatever, what do you need me for anyway? I'm kind of in no more use right now.” Connor said, looking at the suddenly known blood smeared on his hands.
“Of course. We need you as a replacement, per-say.” the god said. “It's completely optional for the most part.” there was a hint of sarcasm at the ‘completely’.
Connor. They need a replacement and Connor is the first choice. What the actual fuck.
Connor gave a humorless laugh. “Me? Do you need me for Prime shit? I didn't even believe in you guys until I died!”
“We know, we’ve been watching you for a while. Our time god has been slowly deteriorating over time, and their time is closing in. we need you to replace them.”
Scratch that, not just a replacement, they want CONNOR to be a GOD. PRIME’S GOD.
“Excuse me?” Connor blankly said.
“You'll be our new time god. more so demigod, since you’ve died a human, but you’d be the same as them.” the god explained.
“You can reverse time, pause time, ‘teleport’ when you get the hang of it. that type of thing. your pain tolerance and similar things are heightened to the point of no feeling,” he continued. “You just cannot change major events or fast forward time, sadly. Blame Prime.”
“And if I refuse?” Connor challenged.
the god laughed. “you’d refuse an opportunity like this? Especially when some- maybe not a lot of course- but some of your friends are still alive?”
Connor froze. Did they survive? how?
“We know you’d do anything for them. Like I said, we’ve watched you for a while now, ever since you were a child. you’ve been connected to our late Time god since your childhood. you were built for this job.”
Connor looked down at his bloodied hands. He wondered if it was his or somebody’s else’s.
“Well?” the god echoed. “You refuse?”
Connor balled his hands into fists. “no,” he finally said. “I'll replace them.”
the god smiled.“Amazing. We knew you’d say yes.”
“Kristen!” the god called. a tall woman, goddess, strides in dawning a fully black gown and hat that covered most of her features.
“Connor, this is the goddess of death. Her angel will send you back down, he’s the one who guided you here.” the god explained.
The goddess, Kristen, walked over to him, kneeling down to his height. she put something in his hands.
a stopwatch of some kind. “Our time god used this. it’s yours now.” her voice was calm and sorry. Connor had almost felt terrible for imagining death to be some skelton in a dress.
Connor thanked her silently, Phil swooping down next to him.
“Alright mate, see you down there!”
Connors hands fidgeted, his eyes twitching open.
He jolted up, throwing up blood and other things immediately.
He wiped his mouth off, rubbing the back of his head.
As he looked at his hand, his blood was covered in it.
He looked behind himself, finding the splatter of blood from his previously cracked skull.
It was the giant Schlatt coin that he hit, he died next to his best friend's creation.
Fuck, Schlatt .
Connor struggled to get up, realizing the stopwatch was still in his hand.
“Hello?” he coughed out, trying to see any survivors. The smelt of the purple tinted smoke hovering in the air filled his newly breathing lungs
There was no answer, unsurprisingly.
“Hello?!” He yelled out again, holding his aching side.
The gods had told him that his pain would basically be gone, so the fact that he was barely standing said something about this incident.
He took a few steps forward as his vision cleared.
As he walked, things became clear.
Including the puddle of blood he was standing in.
He jumped back immediately.
Whose blood is this?
He forced himself to look forward just a bit, dread filling his stomach.
A pink hoodie.
A gray headband.
Pale white skin drenched in blo
“TY!” Connor yelled, falling to his knees. He grabbed the young intern and looked at him.
His mouth, ears, and eyes were pooling blood. The puddle of blood that was under him looked like a splat.
As Connor wiped the blood off of the teen’s face, he refused to let his brain even think of how he died.
But it prevailed.
He fell. His eyes are wide open. He didn’t die immediately. It was slow. He watched himself di
“Ty, please,” he begged, even though he knew it was far too late. “Ty,”
He stopped pleading (to himself) when he heard voices in the distance.
None of them were familiar, but it was something.
He looked back at Ty, staring into his once lively eyes, and set him down.
“Is anybody alive?” He heard a completely unfamiliar voice yell. That wasn’t a citizen, or a visitor.
“There’s someone over here!” He heard somebody else yell. Connor didn’t bother to look up at the search and ‘rescue’ worker, his eyes were still glued onto his friend’s lifeless body.
His hearing was foggy, all he heard was ringing. Later he would realize his ears had been bleeding too.
Connor got up and looked around.
Something told him to simply run. Or hide. Just don’t let those people find you.
Connor wasn’t a guy to take his gut completely seriously since a good amount of it was just pure unfiltered anxiety.
But this time he listened.
He started limping away from ty, wiping the tears that caused obvious streams through the dust that caked on his face.
He limped through Smplive’s shopping center, the buildings windows were mainly shattered, or the buildings themselves were withered.
The purple smoke still coated the air, making it harder to breathe.
What caused this?
He couldn’t think straight. Every step he took he realized there were more and more dead bodies found.
Some were completely unrecognizable/he didn’t know, or friends. It was terrible.
Connor’s clothes were fucked up to no return. His purple overalls weren’t the same purple they were once. They were now a faded grape color. His yellow shirt was torn and bloody. He was sure his hat was long gone.
He continued walking, ignoring the copious amount of blood painting the center red.
He took a break against a building, noticing the torn flier next to him.
NO SCAMMERS IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT.
He remembers that. Actually, this flier made him realize he barely remembers anything.
What the fuck happened?
He was walking to spawn. He saw Ty running around with someone, he didn:t remember who, but they were messing around.
Connor had laughed at the sight, watching the brother-like intern get thrown into the fountain next to him.
But the ground started shaking. It was nothing insane, I mean, Smplive had earthquakes sometimes. It was just a ‘oh my gods, did you feel that? Crazy!’
But it lasted longer, and everything started crumbling and people started screaming-
And he died. Presumably he blacked out and got knocked back so hard he lost all three of his fucking lives.
…
What the fuck happened.
Connor pushed himself off of the wall he supported himself against, walking in front of the building for a clearer view.
…
…
“Come on, man,” Schlatt said. “We’re going to be late!”
“I’m coming, I'm coming-” Connor replied, jogging up behind him.
He studied the wall next to him, stopping at a newly placed flier he hadn't seen.
“Hey, Schlatt, come look at this shit!” Connor laughed, pointing at it.
“God, is it more important than business?”
“No, but please, we need to steal this and hang it.”
Schlatt stood beside him, studying it.
NO SCAMMERS IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT.
“Oh my gods… that is RICH!” Schlatt busted out laughing, reaching for the flier.
“Hey!” a man walked out of the so-called establishment. “Get out of here!”
“Oh c’mon man, we’re not doing-”
“I’ll call the police!”
Connor sighed. “Let’s just go man. I don’t want to deal with getting killed right now.”
Schlatt rolled his eyes, following Connor.
As Connor side eyed the man, something else on display caught his attention.
I have to steal that too, Connor had thought.
…
As Connor stood in front of the building, he noticed the window was shattered, and right on display was a Sonic onesie.
It looked completely out of place.
It was still light blue, maybe it had a few dusty spots, but it was completely normal besides that. Everything was rubble around it.
It was like destiny.
Connor opened the door into the dark shop, most of the products were scattered around.
As he stepped through the glass, he started thinking of a plan.
A plan for what? He didn’t know, but he knew he needed one.
He would take this onesie, leave a coin on the counter, and go back home.
Schlatt should surely be there-
No he wouldn’t,
He wasn’t even in Smplive.
He was with Antvenom, he was going to the end-
He was alive.
Maybe.
Connor ran his fingers through his hair, almost relieved at the fact there was a smaller chance Schlatt had died.
“Keep searching for him!” a voice in the distance yelled. “ He’s still alive!”
“Him”, Connor “him”?
Shit, he forgot that blood usually leaves a trail.
Connor lifted his leg onto his knee like a makeshift seat, looking at the bottom of his shoes.
Abso- lutely covered in blood.
He looked at where he came from, seeing a long trail of a single shoe print covered in blood.
“ Shit!” he whispered, looking around for any other shoes, or even a rag to wipe them.
He saw red shoes in the corner of his eyes.
He leaned forward and grabbed the onesie off of the display, causing a lot more noise than he expected.
He heard shouts in the distance. He backed up and tripped over something, hitting his head on the shop’s floor.
He gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed the back of his newly healed head, closing his eyes hard .
“I FOUND HIM!”
Someone yelled and showed up in front of him. Connor quickly noticed the diamond sword in his hand.
But he was familiar.
“..you?” Connor winced.
… Connor did NOT like him. Any normal person didn’t like him. He was the head of Smplive, he always forced people to do dumb shit for him, he’s backstabbed many people multiple times-
“Oh.” the guy had mumbled, looking down at him.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Did you find him?” somebody yelled in the distance.
There was a tiny moment, where he was staring at him. Connor’s breathing sharpened.
“...no.”
Connor sighed, in relief, but immediately retracted when he saw him gripping his sword.
“Just some dead guy.”
Connor started backing up. “Please, just let me run-”
He raised his sword.
“STOP!”
Connor closed his eyes and held his hands out in front of him, as if it would block anything.
…
Nothing.
Connor opened his eyes, hearing ticking.
A stopwatch.
Connor slowly opened his eyes, seeing the head of Smplive, frozen.
Connor looked around, noticing everything was frozen.
Sparks from the broken fluorescent lights were stuck midair.
What the fuck, Connor thought.
He remembered the stopwatch in his hand.
It was ticking, the hand rotating slowly around the numbers.
Oh my god.
Connor shuffled quickly, grabbing the onesie and the shoes he had seen earlier.
Before he ran out the door, he took the head’s sword from him, knowing he’d need it later.
He ran out the door, seeing the small group of men at the end of the street, also frozen in time. It was eerie.
He ran through the streets, quickly realizing he wasn’t in pain anymore.
As he ran, he looked at the ticking stopwatch. He slowed down his pace to a stop, still staring at it.
He clicked the switch, the watch stopping.
Sound filled his ears suddenly, a bit overwhelmingly. The smoke continued to linger in the air, slowly.
That happened. And Connor caused it.
He continued running to his house, praying Schlatt was there, or at least a sign that he was there.
Once he had gotten there, he noticed how broken down the house was. It was semi close to spawn, sure, but it made him realize how catastrophic this may have been.
What could’ve caused this?
He slammed his door open. “Schlatt!” he called out. “Schlatt! Are you here, man?!”
He ran through the house, looking in every room. Nothing.
His eagerness quickly left him when he was running out of places to look. He wasn’t here.
Connor suddenly remembered. His communicator!
He had left it home the day it happened, he thinks. Did he mention he can barely remember anything?
Connor ran into his room, noticing more of how much his room was fucked up, including the fact most of his house/headquaters was not windows anymore.
He looked around his room, finding the almost dead communicator under his bed.
He immediately tried opening it, quickly realizing half of its functions were gone. He hit it against his palm a few times, causing his custom ‘SEGA’ boot up to flash across the screen.
“Please, please, please,” he quietly begged.
A small, glitchy ‘PRESS ENTER’ popped up. “Thank you, prime,” he said, for the first time ever.
He clicked enter, Schlatt and Connor’s chat opening up after a few moments.
Sunday, September 24, 3:27 pm
ConnorEatsPants: just be safe man
Delivered :)
Jschlatt: i will be
you’re acting like i’m gonna die.
i’m too cool to and you know that
ConnorEatsPants: i know but like
just dont die
Delivered :)
Jschlatt: i dont plan on it
man you are clingy
conareatpant
ConnorEatsPants: nvm i hope you die
Delivered :)
Tuesday, September 26, 9:46 pm
Jschlatt: CONNOR
CONNOR I KILLED IT!!!!
THE ENDER DRAGON WAS REAL SUCK MY DICK
We’re coming home now
I CAN'T WAIT TO RUB THIS IN EVERYONE'S FACE!!!!!!!!
Friday, september 29 1:45 pm
ConnorEatsPants: schlatt
SCHLATT
ARE YOU OKAY
SCHLATT
Did not Deliver :(
Connor leaned against his wall and slid down, putting his knees to his chest.
A few moments after he tried to message Schlatt, the communicator died.
He stared at it for a moment, before throwing it against the wall across from him.
He curled into a ball, trying to understand anything that's happening.
He tried to remember when he died. The last conversation Connor and Schlatt have had was sunday. He messaged him a day or two later, and he didn’t respond. Connor wasn’t a morning guy, and he would usually be awake until at most 3 am.
Things must have gone to shit at least a day after Schlatt left.
On the brighter news, if the trip home went smooth for him, Schlatt had come back unscathed.
Meaning he is alive.
And Connor was going to find him.