Chapter Text
It hurts.
A throbbing sensation can be felt from inside Tango's brain, groaning at the pain as he opens his sticky eyelids. It's the only thing he can focus on. He takes a few slow blinks to clear his vision, only to gape at the situation in front of him, welcoming the distraction.
From the leftmost corner is Skizz, facing the wall while baby talking at the picture of a dog, moving his fingers as if trying to scratch under its chin with a big smile on his face. Moving his gaze to the central part of the room, he spots Impulse laying on the floor with a blissful look on his face, cuddling towards the same dog Skizz was supposed to be petting. Lastly, he furrows his brows at the sight of Zed on all fours, crunching on food at the dog bowl of all things.
As he's about to stand up from the floor (since when did that happen), his eyes blow wide at the most excruciating feeling of his life. Immediately flinching, he grits his teeth and keeps his body as still as possible, releasing a whimper once his muscles twitch involuntarily. His arms hurt (both natural and otherwise). His back hurt. His legs hurt. His head hurt. His body feels foreign and unfamiliar from how his nerves are being set ablaze when he dares to move even a molecule of his entire being, trying to breathe.
Why is he hurting all over?
What is going on?
Fading into the distance from the enclosed and cool copper spaces are long and winding hallways that seem to enjoy the sights of its victims getting lost from its barren clutches. The scenery makes him nauseous. Despite its eerily pristine appearance, the ceiling is threatening to close in on him as if it's about to collapse at any second, twisting Tango's stomach into a knot at the intrusive thought.
His attention snaps to the noises nearby.
Screams of various pitches and lengths fill the geometric room, mixed with groans and rattles and whooshing as a burst of wind hits his back, releasing a very manly screech once he feels the air being knocked out of him. In an instant, he's flying to the other side of the cramped room directly towards a gurgling zombie, swinging his sword to save himself at the last second.
That was… too close for comfort.
With a frantic huff, he caresses his drumming chest, bending towards his knees to plant his other hand and catches his breath.
From the other side of the wall, he can hear the chaos unfolding without him, if Skizz's shrieks are anything to go by. More explosions can be heard as every noise forms into a cacophony, preventing him from fully grasping the situation.
“WHAT'S UP!”
“Oh, my goodness! No!”
“Zed! Don't bring him to me!”
“I can't help it!”
“Get the hell AWAY FROM ME!”
“No, no, no, no, no!”
“You JERK!”
“Help me!”
“AUGH!”
“Tango!”
The screamathon snaps him out of his thoughts, tightening his grip on his sword before running towards his friends. His hair swirls behind him as he gulps and runs, leaving behind a few fleeting sparks of greenish blaze with every hastened step, contrasting the usual vibrant yellow.
They're gonna be in the trial chambers for a while.
The soft breeze brushing against his skin accompanied by the background music of nature finally eases the tense nerves, along with the adrenaline that was fueling his body with power while they challenged the newly discovered trial chambers. It was utter chaos. True to its name, they're really tricky to beat. And he's sure glad that he's finally out of that ridiculous place that's constantly hammering him with new sensations, deteriorating his mind into a spinning mess.
With a deep sigh of relief, Tango relishes himself with the dull and mundane action of dividing the loot between his friends, which is a huge welcome in his book at the moment. After that mess earlier, he is just enjoying the peaceful bubble enveloping the grassy plain by Skizz's place, where they gathered to organize their messy inventories better.
His blond locks dance with the gentle wind, closing his eyes to focus on the conversation between his friends as they argue about nonsensical stuff that he can't bother to process, simply satisfied to listen to their voices and embrace himself with their warm presence.
It's a weird feeling to perceive the world with a hazy lens. It's like drifting with the waves, trusting it to decide his journey for him as he allows its movements to guide him.
“Earth to Tango.”
Jumping at the sudden calling of his name, he snaps his attention towards the source of the voice, only to see three of his friends’ gazes boring into his soul. He lets his confusion known with furrowed brows.
“What?” Tango questions.
“You're not even listening!” Skizz squawks.
“I am!” Tango retorts.
“Oh, yeah?” Skizz raises a brow with a smirk. “What did I say just now?”
Shoot.
“Uh…” Tango says intelligently, shifting his gaze in front of him while looking for something to provide him with answers.
“See? And you call me a slacker.” Skizz scoffs in disbelief. “You better take that back, you jerk.” He points an accusatory finger towards Tango's direction.
Now it's his turn to smirk.
“Face it, Skizz. All you did earlier was scream your butt off like it was on fire.” Tango taunts lightheartedly.
“It was! Shut up!” Skizz's face turns into a strawberry at how red he is.
Tango's lips quiver as he tries not to break his demeanor, while Impulse and Zed don't hesitate to express their amusement with their signature chuckles, covering their mouths as if it'll hide anything.
“This is really serious, man. Stop fooling around.” Skizz tries to reason.
“Okay? What is this very important thing you wanna show us, buddy?” Tango obliges with crossed arms.
“Apparently, the gibberish symbols carved behind the discs’ labels carry some sort of cryptic message for future generations.” Impulse intercepts.
Beside the brunet, Zed hums while caressing his hand over the gold label of an oxidized disc.
“To be fair, it is an interesting take on the mysterious ancient writing system of this world.” Zed comments solemnly. “However, no one has ever deciphered these, so there's no way to prove whether Skizz is saying something smart for once or it's the usual nonsense.”
“Hey!” Skizz squawks while Zed giggles. “Wait, there's not one person who was curious enough to try and understand those symbols inside the enchantment table? Seriously?”
Tango perks up at the conversation, finally catching up to what they are saying and opens his mouth, ready to contribute to their discussion.
“Oh, you mean those nonsense phrases that don't relate to the actual enchantments whatsoever?” Tango shares. “What were our ancestors thinking when they built that? They should at least write something more decent than saying random stuff that probably came out of someone's mouth while drunk.”
All eyes snap to Tango again, flinching at the piercing attention as he fidgets with his hands.
“Wh-What are you staring at?” He stammers, feeling suddenly uncomfortable while his slick back strands gradually shift into a gradient of yellow and green flames.
“You're telling me you knew this whole time.” Skizz gapes. “And you didn't bother to tell anyone else?”
“No? Pearl interpreted them for me before. What's the big deal?”
“Oh, my goodness.” Zed groans while facepalming.
“Alright! Time for us to head to Pearlypop's place. Right now!” Skizz stands to his full height, both hands holding onto the green, orange, and gray discs.
“We can't disturb her! She worked until stupid o'clock yesterday and is probably still asleep right now.” Tango hurriedly hoists himself and stands in front of the tall man with arms spread to the sides.
“Yeah, man. Your questions can wait. She needs her rest.” Impulse agrees from behind him.
“No dice!” Skizz slips the large discs under his armpit and pulls out the rockets with his free hand. “I'll make it up to her in the future. For now, I need for this itch to be scratched or I'll never get it done with how scatterbrained I am.”
Tango huffs in defeat, “Don't say I didn't warn you, man. Go get your butt kicked or something.” He steps aside.
“Don't worry about it.” Skizz waves his hand with a rocket dismissively.
Besides the swooshing of the greenery around the area, the air is eerily still. It's so quiet that Tango won't be surprised if he can hear a pin drop right this instant. Glancing to his sides, he can see his friends averting their gazes from ahead as much as possible. As he moves to the front, red eyes meet icy blue, causing a chill to run down his spine at the familiar pressure.
He feels as if he's prey waiting for the inevitable as the predator is playing with its food, enjoying seeing it squirm from underneath its hungry gaze. The same gut-wrenching sensation brings him back to a scenery of a woman donning a crimson cloak, leaving behind a trail of bones from her wolf army's leftovers as she marches the land, hunting to feed her loyal companions.
Releasing a shuddering breath, he grounds himself back to the present. He's not in that place anymore. He's safe in his home with his friends. He doesn't need to worry about limited lives and surviving. At least, that's what he's hoping for. Moving his eyes back to Pearl's (since when did he avert them), he searches for something—anything.
As if to answer his prayer, the brunet's tense shoulders sag, sighing deeply as she massaged the bridge of her nose, easing his agitated nerves.
“You're telling me you woke me up this early in the morning to… read the galactic letters on the enchantment table.” Pearl deadpans.
“It’s not—” Skizz opens his mouth. “Now that you say it out loud, it really made me sound like a horrible friend.” He deflates.
“I don't really mind you coming to me for help, but I was hoping it would be a decent time where my grouchiness wouldn't affect the vibe, you know?” Pearl twirls with one of her side bangs. “But now that you're here, the brain exercise will surely wake me up properly, so feel free to ask anything.” She adds with a soft smile.
The change in the fellow Hermit’s demeanor causes the men to relax their tense muscles, feeling relieved of being spared from facing the wrath of the grumpy builder.
Impulse nudges Skizz with an elbow, Tango watches the events unfold as the tall man stumbles forward and almost trips on his own feet as he hands the oxidized disc, with Pearl accepting it with careful hands.
“Seriously, sorry about the intrusion, Pearlypop.” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “I was just so excited to ask you, that I ignored Top's advice earlier. I'll make it up to you next time, I promise.” He adds with a determined look.
“Don't worry about it, man. Sorry for overreacting earlier.” Pearl smiles sheepishly. “So! Is this one of the new discs I keep hearing about?” She inspects the object with awe.
“Sure is!” Skizz grins ear to ear. “It was actually a loot from an Ominous Vault and after our little adventure, our conversation kind of derailed to the random symbols behind the discs being cryptic messages for future generations.” He elaborates enthusiastically.
Skizz's words go in Tango's ear and out of the other as the scarred man shares more about his thoughts and opinions about his theory, providing ‘evidence’ towards Pearl while the said woman is silently nodding her head, a clear indicator that she's listening to every word he has said.
For someone who just woke up, she sure is attentive. Probably because of the enticing mystery that's been handed to her on a silver platter. He can only smile silently as he waits for the rant to end, content to sit back and watch.
“If you look at the scribbles at the label behind the disc, you can see the length, right?” Skizz continues while Pearl flips the object at the same time. “See the length over here? I'm ninety-five percent sure that it's a sentence, hence why I told these nincompoops—” He points his thumb behind him towards the rest of the team with a frown, making Zed snicker from underneath his sleeved arm covering his mouth. “—that it was a message. What do you think?”
“I think it's a really cool theory—”
“You see? I was right!” Skizz intercepts as he mocks the Hermits behind him, causing a wave of boos thrown towards his way, including a few snide comments Tango shares nonchalantly.
“—and your ideas are interesting as well, so I was very invested in the topic.” Pearl comments approvingly.
She moves her gaze down at the golden label, her blue eyes moving left to right for a few seconds before stopping suddenly.
Pearl gasps.
Fall is quickly leaving.
Incomprehensible murmurs fill the chilly air as Tango walks along the gravel path, shivering as he puffs a few warm breaths to his organic hand before stopping in front of the illuminated entrance of his destination. Looking up from his appendage, he spots Impulse entering before closing his crimson umbrella, sheathing it to his belt like a sword.
“Hey, Tango!” Impulse waves with a bright smile, exposing his sharp fangs. “Is it just us so far?”
“Nah, I think Skizz and Zed are already inside when they messaged me earlier.” Tango shakes his hand, feeling light but misses the phantom movement of his now absent bushy beard.
Alas, he has to shave it off in favor of ‘hygiene’, according to his friends. To be fair, he did find a few bits buried in it, including a stone button and a shopping list that he thought he lost a few months back.
Okay, maybe trimming it was a good idea.
For now.
He'll have to wait for at least a year to have his glorious facial hair back, though.
“Man, it's really weird that I don't have that weight on my jaws anymore.” Tango cringes as he pats his now clean chin with his mechanical hand, following Impulse's lead as they go inside.
Impulse chuckles, “It's one of the most amazing decisions we made as a group, in my opinion. The beard's gonna go, man. It's worse than Joe's, and even he has a reputation of dangling random stuff on it.”
“You're just jerks who hate seeing people happy.” Tango crosses his arms with a frown. “Namely me.”
“At least you're allowed to grow it back afterwards.” Impulse sighs quietly. “If I tried to do that, I would never hear the end of it from my clan.”
“That sucks. Why do vampires still stick to old traditions, anyway? Your family is so stuck-up.” Tango cringes. “No offense.” He quickly adds.
“It's true, though.” Impulse's shoulders slump. “I wish they won't be so arrogant with their superiority towards other Overworld races anymore. It doesn't change the fact that we're still similar to everyone else apart from our superpowered physical prowess, but they acted as if they descended from Notch himself.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better…” Tango jogs to the blond's side with a grin. “...you don't have to worry about being lumped in the same way as them. At least for tonight ‘cause Skizz will never let you go until you're completely blacked out!” He spreads his arms to showcase the noisy dining hall behind him for emphasis.
Impulse’s crimson eyes glow from the lamps lighting up the large room, gaping in surprise before curling his lips into a genuine smile.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Impulse voices out sincerely.
Tango mirrors the expression without hesitation.
“Don't get your hopes up about having a good night, though.” Tango giggles while placing both fists to his sides. “I won't be surprised if you'll suddenly wake up with the worst headache of your life while staring at the most ridiculous scenery in the world.”
“Cool. Thanks!”
A cool touch lands on Tango's shoulder, jumping violently in surprise as he turns to see Zed laughing his butt off, alongside Skizz who's doing the same but a hundred times louder.
“You son of a—butt nugget!” Tango wheezes as he caresses his chest with a trembling organic hand.
He doesn't think it's possible, but it turns out Skizz can actually laugh harder than he already has.
Jerk.
“You should've seen the look on your ugly face!” Zed’s azure eyes narrow from his grin.
“I literally just heard your brain saying ‘stop’!” Skizz clutches his stomach, blond locks jerking along with his movement while pristine white wings are vibrating behind him. “You're a real piece of work, Top.”
“Shut your face.” Tango grumbles. “At least tell me you reserved us seats instead of fooling around.”
“I did! Shut up!” Skizz roars. “I can do whatever I want, thank you very much. You should all be grateful for my amazing presence.”
“Say that after you finish ten tankards first, without hammering might I add.” Tango smirks.
Skizz suddenly stops all movement, going still as a statue before dramatically standing straight to fully face Tango.
“Is that a challenge?” Skizz raises a brow.
“Depends on you, unless you're a total wimp.” Tango shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Oh! You're so on!” Skizz grins ear to ear, sprinting away towards an unoccupied table.
“Hey! You cheated!” Tango whines as he follows up, grabbing a mug the instant he arrives and chugs the liquid in one go.
“You snooze, you lose, little man!” Skizz slams an empty one to the wooden surface before moving on to the next.
Tango ignores the teasing joke as he continues to focus on his drink, feeling as if he's about to vomit from how full and heavy his stomach is. The more he chugs, the more his gut is weighing him down, panting vigorously between tankards as if it'll help ease the dizzying sensation.
For some reason, the barkeeper silently brings more beer to their table despite none of them uttering a new order. Skizz must've told them in advance, anticipating a drinking contest long before Tango and Impulse arrived.
Good!
That way, Skizz won't have to whine after he loses.
With a slam of his empty mug towards the table, he announces his triumph with a grin, ignoring the fact that his cheeks are already starting to grow warm.
“Oh, Skizz. What was that about you winning earlier?” Tango cups his mechanical hand behind an ear as he mocks, taking in the sight of the blond's purple eyes gradually widening in disbelief. “Who's the loser now, huh?”
“Wait till the next round, you jerk! I'm gonna mop the floor with you so badly, you're gonna cry to Impulse's arms after this is over.” Skizz declares with a dark tone, eyes burning with determination.
“Hey! What did you include me for?” Impulse complains from the side.
“So? Will this be a best out of five thing or what?” Tango leans back on his seat.
“Sure.” Skizz shrugs. “Zeddlebop, you decide what the next challenge is.” He nods his head towards the said brunet's direction.
“Let's make this more interesting, shall we?” Zed stands, leaning forward as he places both palms on the furniture. “What if Impulse and I join in on the fun?”
“What?” Impulse exclaims.
“That way, no one will know for sure who wins, considering how good Impulse's bladder is as well.” Zed smirks. “And! All of us will be having fun instead of waiting here, doing nothing. What do you say?”
“I don't have a problem with that.” Tango nods approvingly. “But what about the part where we go home, though? Won't we all be so wrecked to traverse properly?”
“That's where Etho comes in!” Skizz chimes in. “We also invited him earlier, and he should be here any minute now. While we wait, let's start with round two!”
“Oh, man. I'm gonna regret this in the morning, aren't I?” Impulse buries his head in his hands with a weak groan. “Sure, why not? It's a rare occurrence for us to simply fool around like this, so I'll take what I can get.” He sighs as he uncovers his smiling face.
The three of them cheer in their seats at the affirmation and immediately, the four of them brainstorm what the next four or so challenges might be. Of course, whoever blacks out first is obviously disqualified and instantly loses, and they'll continue to drink until they declare someone a winner or it's a last man standing kind of situation.
After all, they can't guarantee if their bodies will surrender first or not.
Once the planning session is over, the four of them instantly grab their respective drinks and after giving each other their confident expressions, they begin with round two.
Empty tankards are discarded on the table. Some have even rolled to the floor with how massive the quantity is. While Tango gulps his next drink, he spots Zed laughing his butt off for no reason while Impulse is embracing the other with one arm as he chugs a beer with the other. Since when can he use teleportation and arrive there?
He furrows his brows, wondering why he can't feel the liquid entering his throat despite continuously gulping. As he parts with the container, he finds it empty and places it with the others, gasping as he accidentally swipes the ones in front of him to the side, falling to the ground with various clanking.
Once his dominant hand is finally free, he reaches for another one and grabs the handle, only to feel nothing. What? He tries again. Nothing. He growls and nudges his hand forward before attempting once more, internally celebrating with another gulp.
How many tankards has he emptied for this round again?
It doesn't matter. As long as he drinks more than Skizz, surely that'll be enough determinant that he got this in the bag, right?
Right.
Now, back to chugging.
“Top…” Skizz calls solemnly.
“Yeah?” Tango looks up, only to see the blond man staring right into his eyes, the mug completely forgotten on the table. “What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Do you want us to stop?”
“No!” Skizz's eyes widen in panic before slumping back on his seat. “I just… want you to know that I love you, man.” He chuckles.
An image of a man and a woman saying the same three words pops out of his hazy brain, causing him to jolt violently at the momentary dread before snapping himself out of it.
He has to remind himself that it's okay. It's just Skizz being Skizz again.
“Sure?” Tango furrows his brows in confusion.
What is this all about?
Is this his tactic or something?
“You don't understand how important this is, dude!” Skizz, with his blushing glory, stands from his seat and goes around with wobbly legs to sit beside Tango, grabbing both of his shoulders firmly. “No matter what happens, I'll always have your back because I love you, alright? Don't ever forget that.”
“Don't you have enough yet, Jester Quartet?”
A deep and even voice interrupts, causing Tango and Skizz to snap their heads to the source, only to see Etho crossing his legs while sitting on a different table from across them.
“It's way past eleven and you still have work tomorrow.” Etho adds before drinking a beer.
How many cups has this man drunk? He's been at it since he came here!
“You do realize that you're the only one who calls us that, right?” Skizz hiccups, with Etho shrugging apathetically.
“Not until the winner is decided.” Tango informs.
“Most have already left to sleep, man. You guys should as well before you'll regret it.”
“Just a bit more, Etho?” Skizz pleads, clapping his hands together for good measure. “Please?”
Etho sighs deeply, “Don't say I didn't warn you.”
“Yes! Love you, buddy!” Skizz cheers before grabbing another tankard and drinks it.
Tango grins ear to ear at an idea that suddenly pops out of his head, not hesitating to reach under the mug and push it upwards, causing the scarred man to gurgle. Skizz hastily throws the drink away as he vigorously coughs, heaving heavily while leaning over the table to catch his breath.
“You little…” Skizz growls as he slowly turns to Tango's direction. “Come here, you!” He raises his arms and is about to grab Tango, but the dwarf frantically steps back with noodle legs, barely dodging the attack.
Skizz pounces forward with a flap of his wings, but Tango jumps back before running away from the dining area. Behind him is the blond screaming for him to stop. Obviously, he didn't. He's not that stupid.
Normally.
The chase continues for however long until he runs up the stairs, swiftly turning into a corner, and finds an open trapdoor from amongst the darkness before quickly diving in, closing it on the way. Looking up, he hears heavy footsteps stumping to where the opening was supposed to be, listening in on Skizz grumbling as his stomping fades, assuming he turns back to seek someplace else.
Releasing the air he unknowingly holds, he slowly opens the trapdoor with a snicker and gets out. As he wanders around the top floor for the staircase, he glances at the railing and spots the huge dining hall from his location with awe. Something catches his eye and follows it, snorting as he sees Skizz by a mounted picture on the wall.
That guy sure is quick to get distracted. At least he won't have to worry about him for a while.
Focusing back on the sight, he realizes how small everything is from up here. Since he's too tired from running to find the stairs, he'll have to resort to flying. You know, like a bird.
As he deems it a good idea, he leans to the side and plants a firm grip on the wooden rail, boosting himself up with a jump as his legs go over it before letting go. Feeling the air brushing against his skin, he notices the ground quickly approaching his way.
Everything goes black.