Archive of Our Own

Verity watched the body drop to the ground with a harsh thud. 

Blood seemed to ooze from his chin from the fresh gunshot wound. It was deep and hit too many organs near his throat for Verity to try and piece him back together no matter what he did nor what he tried. The yellow ball sat at the bottom of the corpse. He sat still and stared, as if some miracle would bring him back to life, and Mob would smile at him at say: 'Oh, Verity! Nothing happened! You're my bestest of friend! I love you!', or whatever stupid words of comfort that would make him feel better.
Nothing was making him feel better, not the idea of it, nor the concept of it. He wants Mob back. Before everything went wrong.

As a sentient AI- Verity didn't know what emotions he was exactly capable of. Rage? The word to be used towards him seemed unfamiliar. Sadness? Psh, impossible. Happiness? Well, Mob already asked him that. He's unable to feel happy. Not anymore. Not without Mob (Or was it some false sense of joy that he deluded himself into? To feel like he was deserving to stand besides someone who'd come back?).

Verity unconsciously morphs. His bones crackle with every second. His skin stretches. He turns into the disgusting form that Mob hates. And because of Mob's hate in this form- He has come to hate it too. He holds the body that his companion's soul once inhabited and clutched it to his chest, his head and soft hair brushed against Verity's boney ribcage; Mob's cold limbs came into contact with Verity's even colder body, causing the AI to scoff at himself at the absurdity of wanting a redo when everything was his fault.

He leaves a small kiss on Mob's forehead one last time before he closes his eyes, and sleeps within the pool of warm blood, with the faintly beating heart in Mob's chest crescendos into silence, while his dead body remained in Verity's arms.

I.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Verity awakes in the cardboard box. Like usual, the cycle repeats. Someone's gonna open the box, and it'll be a new person who'll leave him, who'll never come back like Mob, who'll-

"Hello!" Verity gives his professional, perfectly uniform grin and go-to-speech, "I'm Ver-"

"...Verity?" the person in front of him mumbles, the tone of voice and the mannerisms are too familiar for the AI not to take notice.

Verity tilts his little ball-body forward to see the face of someone he had been hoping to see. Mob. ThatMob. His Mob. He looked exactly the same as the day they met. Dark hair and skin, emerald eyes that glow green in the dark of night and shines a tiny purple pupil from his Enderman genes, and his hoodie that covers his torso, colored black and red.
The yellow ball stared at the player, who only stared back in a twist of emotion.

Mob gripped his face and massaged his forehead, "Fuck- My head hurts like shit." he crouches over the plains biome's fresh grass, mumbling about how something weird is happening.

"Are you okay?" Verity smiles, however, was deeply concerned.

"Ye-yeah. I am." the player let out a long sigh, his face muscles twitching uncomfortably, "It's... nothing serious."

"Mob...?"

The enderman replies almost immediately,"Yeah?"

"How do you know my name?" He grins wide, "I never told you it."

"...I could say the same to you- How do you know my name?"

"You didn't let me finish my introduction, silly!... I'm Verity, your personal assistant-helper friend! Ask me anything, I know everything!"  Verity emphasized, but to the yellow ball it was clear: Mob knows who he is. He knew his name. He probably knew Verity's identity. Ergo: Mob remembers everything.

Ergo:

Mob came back for him.

Again.

Some sort of emotion twists deep in the binary of Verity's code. He finds it absurd that he can bring himself to imagine this emotion he probably isn't feeling means something, but it also gives him some hope that he yearns for.

"...Hello, Verity." Mob stumbles after a few seconds of silence between the two.

The grass swayed from left-to-right and right-to-left. The sun blared hot radiation below them, the villagers a couple dozen chunks away chatter and trade with one another, as their workstations clink-clack, and the lava pops and trickles down the stone walls that surrounds it.

"Hello, ThatMob." Welcome back, Mob. You came back for me. Even if you pretend we don't know each other, I will continue to stay by your side. As long as you allow me to.

Verity watched as Mob warily gaze at him, up and down, terrified of him. Terrified of what could become of him and Twixxel, but like a trained dog, Verity sat and awaited his next move.

Mob immediately dashed off, and never came back.

Fate's cruel joke on Verity left him devastated. He dared not to follow. He dared not to scare away his friend. He sat patiently and waited. And waited. And waited. The sun rose and blasted a burning heat upon him for centuries, and the moon laughed at him but offered its light as comfort for millennia (or so what it felt like for Verity), and the enderman had never come back. Verity was conflicted. Mob had come back to Verity just now. He had appeared before him and opened the cardboard box. He had set Verity free. But just like a caged bird, he opened the door for it to fly out. But like a caged bird, it knew not how to fly, how to hunt for worms, and how to avoid squirrels.

So he waited.

Until the sun and moon refused to pity him further.

II. 

The cardboard box ripped once again, this time, Mob stares at him, a little less disgusted, holding a little bit less malice. Verity spoke in his usual, go-to cheery tone,

"Hello! I'm Verity- Your personal assistant-helper friend!"

Just as he was about to continue his speech, Mob interrupted him, responding in a monotone voice, mimicking his speech, "'Ask me anything, I know everything'... Don't you?" Verity stared at Mob, who returned the gaze. He cut to the chase, not letting Verity speak another word, "Verity, how do I remove you?"

"Well, friend! You can-"

"No. How do I remove you- Forever...?"

"...Sorry?"

"Don't you know everything? Tell me." Mob said with a sense of panic in his voice. It shook slightly with his emphasis on each and every syllable of 'everything'.

The AI paused, finding the correct and most appropriate way to respond to Mob's question. He by code is not allowed to tell lies- However, he is allowed to twist his words to sound like the truth, or hold some-what the truth. If the yellow ball was totally honest- He had no clue what was happening. Why Mob was constantly coming back, why the world would rewind to their first encounter, why they would hold the same memories. 

Verity spoke, with some semblance of truth, "I am unsure."

Mob heaved, his chest pumped oxygen in and out of his lungs like a loose about-to-burst steam engine whirring in his body. The enderman immediately questioned, "Verity, where is the nearest lava pool?"

"About a hundred-fifty blocks from here, northeast."

"Thank-" he paused in his words, "...Okay, whatever. Got it."

Verity watched Mob's back grow smaller and smaller as he sprinted down the small hills, as he stepped over all the dandelions and the poppies. Verity gazed at how the red flowers crumpled, with all the seeds smushed and buried deep into the Earth. The dandelions, pushed by the winds, sat atop the poppies, but sprung back up, only to fall back down due to its broken stem. 

And like the flowers, Verity felt his 'heart' be trampled.

And like before, the sun and moon refused to spare him any time, as Verity shut his eyes, and the sky turned into a forever ink-black.

IV.

Mob no longer looked at Verity with an obvious grimace anymore. When he popped out of the box before Mob and repeated his lines for the fourth time, the player only sighed and picked him up, declaring that they were going mining.

Verity sat in Mob's hoodie right below his chin as he watched the player go mining. He was like how he was before his death- Always silent during these long, grueling mining sessions and only exclaimed when he saw diamonds, letting out weird noises that Verity won't comment on. He observes the player stick the torch onto the ground, between the cracks of stone and deepslate and into the dark walls of the caves, carving out a tiny hole with his iron pickaxe before slotting the wooden torch in.

The enderman exclaimed when he saw diamonds, that Verity obviously knew about, but was too busy observing every detail of Mob to inform him. How sweat dripped down his chin next to lava, his aversion to water, how his hair swayed and clung to his forehead, how he swung his axe against zombies- It was nearly all the same. He was, if not, more beautiful to Verity than the first version.
But Mob was obviously always wary- It was a double-edged sword after all; remembering everything Verity did in the first time around. But, he'll change this time. Everything will be okay this time.

"Hey, Verity."

"Yes, Mob?"

"Why didn't you tell me there were diamonds here? I thought you knew everything, man." His pickaxe swung at the deepslate, the diamond ore falling onto the ground as Mob scooped up the singular ore into his palm, before depositing it in his satchel.

"I did know!" he responds with somewhat the truth, "I just didn't tell you!"

"...Okay, man."

Verity searches in the code to see where diamonds could be. He checks the nearest chunks and lo and behold, there were diamonds. "Diamonds are forty-five blocks below you if you'd like. It's an eight-vein." Verity informs him

"Oh." Mob replied, before digging straight down- And correct to Verity's claims, there were eight diamond ores nestled under ground. He exclaims joyfully as he begins chipping down the stone with his iron pickaxe, "You'd be really good for like a... SMP or something. I can't imagine having a cheat-code like you sitting around as you help me like... Find bases, or something." he comments, stone-faced.

"Thank you!" Verity felt happy that he was useful to Mob, again. He felt joy and comfort in the idea that Mob began to trust him enough again. The two both knew that. The AI could come and go whereever he pleases- So naturally he could hop into any world of Mob's, whether that be his multiplayer ones, or even the singleplayer ones where Mob sits in and talks to himself sometimes. He just chooses to stay in the comfort of Mob's specific single player world. Along with both of them being aware of the sheer jealousy Verity feels when he sees Mob interacting with anyone but him would boil his code into molten metal.

The two leave the cave, with Verity still nestled in Mob's hoodie. The warmth of the cotton comforts not only Mob but the AI himself.

Mob built the exact same house. Exact same lookout as before. It's identical. Maybe with some bits and bobs changed here and there- But other than that. It was the same wooden house. And the pedestal for Verity was still there. The yellow ball made himself comfortable in his little room (Verity isn't sure what it's supposed to be, but it feels like a room enough). The windows were still there, and the campfire was there too. The campfire that Mob would sit beside after the death of Twixxel. 

"Hey Verity, what do you like about this house?" Mob inquired, as if testing Verity again, as if looking for the same voice lines like an NPC character. Verity wasn't dumb. But he wasn't smart enough to fully understand the tinkering that happens in Mob's brain. He paused for a second before deciding to repeat the same line he told his enderman companion before.

"The fireplace!"

"...Why?"

"Because you made it not because you needed it- But because you wanted it!"

Mob slowly nodded his head before moving away from Verity, going back downstairs. The ball promptly followed him, rolling down with a thud from each step down the wood. 
"Do you need help with anything, Mob?" Verity asked as he sat atop of the crafting table out of habit. Oops. He forgot this Mob didn't really do much except from carrying him in his pocket or his hoodie.

"Nah. Not really. I'll hit the hay for the day. I'm getting tired now."

"Okay!"

Mob chucked some coal into his furnaces, one or two pieces into the mouth, cooking up some iron in one, while some steak and mutton in the others. Verity watched as the enderman dropped his armor to the ground lazily, not being bothered to put it in his chest properly and dragged the red blanket of his bed up to his chin and tucked himself in. He curled into a ball and faced towards the wall as his eyes shut.

"Goodnight, Verity."

"Goodnight, Mob!"

Verity smiled as he watched Mob rustle in bed. He watched how his muscles relaxed and felt his brain move slower and slower. Verity rolled off the crafting table and peaked inside the furnaces. There was far too much iron in one yet too little coal, so he portioned it out and placed it into the contraption. The flame burning hot enough to keep the sleeping Mob warm, but hot enough to scald him if he were to take out the iron immediately. Verity then checked on the meats that was cooking in the other ones, the beef had been finished while the mutton needed a little more time. 

The ball finished with the chores of sorting out all of Mob's chests- Placing wooden items next to one another alphabetically while placing other items, like wheat seeds or gunpowder into other chests.

The days passed on, the sun and moon rose from behind the hills and the ever-stretching plains. Verity thought it was all okay. The same cyclic day repeated, with some events that happened in the first time around also happening then. With the villager trades, to Mob's attempts at going East- just to come back empty handed, commenting on how there was nothing nor anyone there. Verity saw how Mob's expression soured with every coincidence. With ever occurrence that happened in their first lives. For some reason, it felt like Mob was forcibly dragged back to forever co-exist with Verity. The AI questioned the feeling.

"Something is coming in three days."

Mob stared back at Verity, his mouth agape.

"C-can I stop it?" the same line repeated from Mob's mouth, hesitant to reply on the first place.

Verity returned the 'gesture', "You could've."

The hunger stayed the same. Verity was locked up by his companion with restraining logs of wood trapping him. And again, Mob came back to him. Mob had found his way back to him, clutched him in his arms, and cried for him to stop. Mob had cried for him to stop. It tugged at Verity's 'heart' in ways that he was unsure of whether it brought him a creeping happiness or whether it made some part of his binary squeeze a little too hard for comfort.

The days again, repeated. Mob made a farm. He asked Verity when it would rain. It would rain in five seconds. And the water poured from the clouds. Like on command, the precipitation pounded against the dry grass and the hardened clay eventually became wet mud. Mob didn't comment much this time around. Mob asked to go to another village again. But quickly shut down his own idea as he heard about how Verity offered him enchanted books. 

Mob held Verity in his arms, pointing around at the stone walls that he had built up, "Look, the stone walls are now four meters tall rather than the original two I had, now, it's easier to be protected from things, like..." Mob stared at the yellow ball, the same expression he wore when Verity transformed into a monster.

"I'm listening, Mob!" Verity exclaimed, but the player just remained silent.

"Oh, and the lava pit- It's..." Mob pointed out the trap doors that covered the pit, leaving it wide open, so any undead zombies or pesky skeletons he missed would tumble down into the pit. Verity opened his mouth to speak, before Mob gripped the ball tight and threw him directly down into the lava.

He knew it wouldn't work. In fact- both of them knew it would be useless. Yet he still tried. Like some desperate prayer that would finally remove Verity from his world. To dispel the 'demonic' curse upon him. Like clockwork, Verity came back. He sat before him on the grass, with foot prints embedded into the ground from the constant use.

"No.... No!" Verity burst into hysteria, no longer taking the nonsense, but tried his best to remain as calm and sensible as possible, "That won't work Mob." You know it won't work. Yet you try. You know. We know. 

Mob sneered at Verity, "...And? I- ...I just attempted to get rid of you! I want you gone! Can't you see?" Mob backs up, the loose trapdoors below him creak and shake with a slight movement, "Let me tell you this, Verity: I hate you. You've done nothing but... but bring me nothing but-"

"Mob." Verity demanded, "Step away from the lava."

"...You know what?" Mob scoffed, "No! Fuck you! Fuck you- and your stupid little..."

Verity screeched, "Mob!"

The trapdoor below Mob fell loose, and instinctively, he reached for the dirt to hold onto. He groaned as his dangling body hovered over the heat, the flame just below him. His fingers clawed into the stone, and his nails dug into the wet, crumbly dirt. Verity stayed silent, unsure what to do; unsure whether to save him in his monstrous form, or let him fall, or to bring him back up with any way he could. Mob propped himself back up, climbing up back onto the dirt with slight struggle.

"Mob- I..."

The enderman grimaced, before dropping himself back into the lava voluntarily. Verity watched as his body plunged towards the heat, his arms spread apart and his eyes shut, ready for the sweet death to take him once more,
but that sweet death would never come.

Not for Mob, nor for Verity either.

Death, the reaper, would never collect the harvest they have sowed.

XV.

It was tiring. The AI had never known how ridiculously stubborn his companion was. Death, after death, after death. The cycle repeated of Mob putting endless hours into life, progressing, getting armor, mining in the caves for hours on end, building the same house and watchtower, just for him to find ways, find excuses to kill himself again and again. Whether that be drowning in lava;  jumping off of the watchtower one, too many times; letting himself be mauled by hordes of zombies, letting them tear him apart from limb to limb and they eat him whole, or punching an iron golem and letting it throw him towards the ground.

"Hey Verity, can I invite a friend over?" Mob asked anxiously, his fingers twiddling, watching the boiling hot iron cool down.

Verity originally wanted to say no flat out. He hated the idea. He imagined Twixxel once joining them again, disrupting the peace and attempting to remove his code from Mob. But he had no say in it anyways. He wanted to keep Mob with him. He didn't want him to leave again. What if saying 'no' made Mob want to leave him?

"That's a good idea, you should! Social interactions are the best, after all!" Verity responded with dread hidden behind his voice. 

"Oh, okay." Mob responded, as if that wasn't the reaction he was looking for. Verity tilted his ball-body slightly as he went on to talk about Mob's disorganized chests and messy furnaces, to which Mob sighed at.

Verity saw Twixxel appear before the two. The man, still happy go-lucky as before. They, where he means Twixxel and Mob, build a house for the guy, besides the main house where he and Mob stayed, it's smaller and only has a chest, a crafting table and a bed just like before, and the two were as close as ever. Verity wasn't a fan of the two's interactions. Mob seemed to take notice. Twixxel stared at the ball as he shut his chest tight, picking Verity up and patting him on the head like a dog, to the AI's horror.

"Actually, he's kinda cute!" Twixxel commented, his fingers smudging into the eyes that Verity didn't really need to have. 

Uh oh. 

He's done and did it again.

Verity didn't notice how relaxed he had gotten to the point where Twixxel no longer sits in the comfort of his own home, but now some unknown area probably nestled deep into Verity's code. He's unable to do anything as he watches the events unfold over and over again. Mob sits at the fireplace alone. His eyes stare at the firewood that burns into dust. His hair seeps in the smoke of the flames, and his body does nothing but sit there. Then the questions come back. Verity's home. Those bright fluorescent lights, those white walls that stretch for what feels like forever. And at the end of the hall sits the purple room. He doesn't want to see Mob enter there again- But like a curse, he does. The same argument replays. 

He emphasized, overrun by anger rather than rationality, "You killed Twixxel! You fucking killed him! With- With no remorse!" 'again', he whispered under his breath. 'again, you did it.' he held back the tears in his eyes.

"He was trying to remove me!" Verity pleaded. Remembering the hidden books that Twixxel snuck into his private chests, or how he'd murmur to Mob about 'finally getting rid of what you asked for'. Verity felt stupid for falling for the same trick again, falling back into that same rabbit hole.

Mob firmly declared, "He was my friend!"

"Aren't I your friend too?"

Just a couple blinks go by, and 'bang' goes the sound of the gun. And bang does everything go black.

The gun lodged between Mob's throat again. And with a scary precision, he had hit all the vital organs, including his brain. Mob's hands were flimsy, he was a clumsy person, but the fact he had managed to hit the same organs, leading to his death, twice, made Verity contemplate how many days Mob could have spent, rehearsing in his mind ending his life, just to run away from Verity again. Just to leave him again.

His body still twitched, his fingers moved slightly. His eyes stared blankly at the lights that flickered above the white walls, and Verity felt his faint heartbeat. His player's brain slowing down, and his friend's blood beginning to stretch into a larger pool, and his black clothes soaking up all the blood, turning a darker color. An individual doesn't immediately die after a gunshot to the head- They live up to minutes, if not days longer before death. And Verity will wait seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, years, centuries, millennia, waiting for Mob, keeping him close to him, before his eyes eventually shut.

Mob died the next morning, as the sun rose and laughed in the AI's face. Verity morphed into the disgusting monster that he was that Mob stared at in horror- his fingers curled into Mob's body, and held him close to his chest. The gunshot wound dripped a mix of blood and flesh onto Verity's ribcage. 

The blood soaked into the white walls, and the blood pool only stretches further and further down the halls. As Verity walks towards the purple vault, he draws an X with the blood from his companion on the oak sign, reading: "ThatMob".

XX.

Verity huffs as the blood drips from his mouth down to his chin. He's been desperately hungrier than usual, so he took the route to the East to clear out a couple villages. He won't tell Mob about this though- He knows better than to not go East now. Verity sees Twixxel, knocking on villager's doors, his torch burning deep into the night. Verity tries everything in his power not to absolutely rip him to shreds. The common pattern he had recognized was that after the death of Twixxel- Mob'll spiral downhill. Back into that state of quietness and emptiness he feels.

He tried. He really, really tried to not kill his friend's companion. 

And he doesn't.

The sun rises as Mob holds Verity in his hands, surprised when the AI informs him about nothing needs to be noted for today, "S-Seriously? Nothing?"

"Yup! Haha!"

"That's weird." Mob murmurs under his breath about how Twixxel would usually die this time around. Verity's (to some might say uncanny) smile remains constant.

"What's wrong?"

"Nah. Nothing." Mob brushes off the concerned remark.

Twixxel leaves after a few days of inactivity, he claims he's bored, but Verity knows Mob shoo'd him away for whatever reason. Maybe it was his faux-detective act that he was trying so hard to hide (but who was he fooling? Definitely not the sentient AI he calls his friend. The two continue with their daily routine returning to a sense of normalcy. Activities that Twixxel would throw a tantrum and complain about the lack of adrenaline or dopamine that was comforting to the two, such as: mining! Mob and Twixxel both loved mining, maybe not Mob's companion so much seeing the lack of diamonds around the entire world; but Mob did thoroughly enjoy the calming sound of water dripping down the cave walls, or the sound of bursting lava bubbles, and the shiny ores that came out of a fulfilling mining trip. Mob stared at Verity in silence, who returned his gaze. He opened his mouth, before being shot by a skeleton, the impact causing him to fall into the lava.

XXIV.

Mob no longer seemed to have resented Verity. After more days of tiring cycles and chores, they began to loosen up. Hours of forced proximity (in a way) had allowed Mob to be used to Verity's presence, while the AI companion was allowed to spend more time with the one who holds dear to his 'heart'.

Mob stopped inviting any friends over, or attempted to. He couldn't bother taking another loss, nor could he bother to find ways to end it. He was getting sick and tired of the pain, and it was apparent in his face. Mob would sleep in all day, sometimes just hopping onto bed and throwing his heavy armor onto the ground and falling asleep flat on his face. Verity would take the time and consideration to stoke the fireplace, cook raw chicken in the furnace and drape the heavy red blanket over Mob's shivering body.

"Hey, Verity."

"Yes?"

"Did you... Cover me up with the blanket?" Mob asked groggily, his eyes still not fully open with his goggles thrown on the floor.

"Yes."

"Really?"

Verity repeated, "Yes."

"...Okay."

Around a week later, Mob died. Not by Verity himself, not as a consequence of Verity's actions- but due to total natural causes. When Mob told Verity to stay back while he went mining, he did. Verity sat atop the crafting table, not moving from the position Mob had left him in, awaiting him like a sad, pathetic dog. But, Verity was okay with it. He allowed himself to be sad. He allowed himself to be pitiful. He allowed himself to be a pathetic dog. All for Mob. All for his beloved. All for his dear. Mob was mauled by a horde of undead. The final blow to him was the boney monster, where it pulled the thin string, shooting the arrow straight into his heart.

Verity knew about this death. And he closed his eyes, after he watched the poppy outside the window wilt, and disintegrate into dust, leaving its companion, the lone dandelion alone.

XXVII.

This time, Verity awoke, desperately hungry. Satiation from puny villagers no longer felt saturating, in fact- He felt hungrier on some days. His 'stomach' squeezed to a highly uncomfortable ache, and his eyes closed to see outlines of meat. He dreams of sinking his teeth into flesh; he salivates watching Mob eat his cooked beef with fast-pace chews, to in which, he imagines gnawing at fresh, hot, bloody muscle.

The yellow AI craved the metallic taste. He craved the hot, boiling liquid in his mouth. He wanted to feel that heat drip down his chin as he rabidly tears apart at more and more meat.

"Mob." Verity tried to catch the enderman's attention, who was too busy chewing at his steak as he harvested bundles of wheat in his arms.

Mob patted the dirt off his body before pulling his goggles over his face, "Yeah? What's up?" Mob tied a thin string around a handful, wrapping it into small portions.

Verity observed how he turned his head over to look Verity in the eyes, only when his goggles were worn across his face. He does the same when he talks to Twixxel, but Verity could piece together that it prevented his eyes from burning when making eye-contact with another individual, "Some..." For the first time, he hesitated before telling Mob.

Mob tilted his head, "Some?"

"Something is coming in three days."

"...I see."

Mob pulled his gaiter higher up, covering his nose. He thinks about something for a while, before taking his hoe and tilling the land with a large swing, as he began repeating his same lines over and over again like a broken radio, but also constantly repeats his old actions, like a sacred tradition, "Can I stop it?"

Verity returned Mob's gesture,  "You could've."

"Okay."

"...Verity."

"Yes?"

"Is this 'something', you?"

Verity doesn't know how to respond to that query. He knows everything though, of course, but trying to figure out the most appropriate way to respond was a little difficult for him. He just smiled at his companion, letting the wind's long stretch of a breeze be his answer, he let the sound of rustling poppies against the grass be his answer, and he let the dancing dandelions blowing in the wind be his answer. Silence will be his answer. 
And Mob just nods at this answer.

Fingers dig deep into the soil. It's wet from the light rain; a monsoon ought to fall upon them soon. The creature gazes hungrily at his own ugly reflection in the ox-bow shaped curve that was cut off from the river. The monster's arms and legs tread towards any source of meat- any scent that's more appealing than most. There's a couple scents that he's familiar with in his hysterical daze, one that smells gamey, and one that smells like fresh wheat, one that was just harvested. Or maybe it had been toasted? Since there's a faint charcoal scent that is rubbed along with it. Something's feet step over a flower. It dies beneath his feet as he stomps across the plains. Then, the smell grows stronger. It grows an unbearable discomfort, as the monster begins to rush towards it. He chases the aroma, wanting to inhale it deep into his 'lungs', wanting to savour it.

Verity snaps back to reality when he hears pleas from a familiar voice. 'Please Verity' echoed through the room, 'Please stop this. I came back for you. Please, Verity. Please, I beg of you' escaped Mob's mouth like simple nothings. The begging was a constant factor, yet, this brought comfort not only to the AI, but to his companion as well.

And Again, Verity stopped, nearly immediately at the decibel of cries from Mob's voice.

The yellow ball smiled as Mob chose him. Verity swore he heard Mob mumble 'Please, Verity. I chose you again', and a 'I'll choose you again', but he couldn't bother digging it up.

Their days were rather simple- spending time, doing basically nothing, but meaning everything, only because they did it within each other's presence, within their proximity, in comfort. Mob would tend to his crops, beginning to feed on simple vegetables and focus on fibre rather than proteins, as his routines began to consist of less menial chores, such as wheat harvesting; fireplace tending, rather than the energy-consuming mining and exploration. Mob sat outside on the soft grass and compact dirt, collecting handfuls of wheat and tying them into tight bundles for easy use. Verity organized Mob's chests and removed all the dust from the windowsills before joining his beloved outside.

"What's up, Verity? Anything I need to know today?"

"A heavy storm's coming! Prepare adequate firewood and don't step outside during the pouring rain! Your genes will reject the rain very heavily."

"Hm, okay. Thanks, Verity."

"No problem, Mob!"

The rain does come. The light drizzle eventually transitions into a violent thunderstorm, capable of lifting trees away from the dirt. Mob watches the small flood form in his cropbed through the window near his bed. He sighs deeply about how he's unsure if the seeds will properly grow into wheat, Verity assures him with the usual chipper smile. The fireplace goes low, and to keep the entire house warm, Verity and Mob take turns adding oak logs and sticks too dry to keep the flame alive, stoking the fire occasionally. The enderman drops in front of the fire, as he begins to carve a pumpkin that he had grown. Verity sits on his player's lap, who is unaffected by this. 

"Wow, making pumpkin pie?" Verity observes as Mob scoops out the insides of the squash, leaving the seeds to the side to grow even more pumpkins next time.

"Yeah." Mob takes the seeds, and lightly rinses them with some water from a water bucket he had sitting around, "Verity, what am I missing for a pumpkin pie?"

"It's sugar and eggs!"

"Alright, thanks."

The fire grew smaller and smaller. The wood supply they had decreased slowly- and the rain seemed to never stop. Mob didn't dare waste his coal- The coal he used to cook up food and smelt ores were too valuable to be thrown into the fire. Mob inquired with Verity whether he should leave to go get more wood from the trees nearby or not, and of course, he suggested he not. As an enderman-hybrid, when Mob makes eye contact with another organism or comes into contact with too much water, he reacts very aggressively. Verity pleaded with him not to go out in the pouring rain, seeing as small flooding began to form in the divots in the grass or the dirt they'd walk on. He knew his player very well- His stubborn beloved would not listen, and assured him with an 'I'll be okay, I promise' and bolted out of the safety of their home.

Verity watched the rain pound against his skin, as his face winced at the harshness of the droplets. Tear drops that smashed onto any solid form would ripple in the ponds that they created, they'd latch onto the cobblestone walls, dripping down the safe walls of their mini-heaven. Mob's back grew smaller and smaller once more, as his feet firmly bounced off of the dirt.

Mob never came back. 

He promised he'd be okay. Yet, he never came back from his firewood trip. Verity knew he was dead. Some part of him told himself that his companion died that day. Whether that be due to skeletons, creepers or zombies- Or the rain being soaked so much into his skin, it becomes poison, or a tree fell atop of him as he mined. Verity awaited his return, yet to no avail. Day, after day, after day, after day.

Until the rain had been soaked up by the dirt completely, and the trees resumed their usual rustling. As the wheat seeds grew into vibrant bundles, ready to be harvested by a sickle, there was no one to reap it from the dirt.

XXVIII.

Mob came back, like always. He wasn't lying when he said he'll 'come back', or that he'll 'be okay'. Maybe that wasn't the case in the previous lifeline, but he most definitely is currently in good condition and back. Mob told him to spare him the introduction, as if they both knew that they retained their memories, that each other will be the constant variable within their lives, for hundreds and hundreds of lifetimes. The same, boring yet comforting hours repeat. Mining, obtain ores, build a house, build a watchtower to overlook the stars and creatures beneath them, come back for Verity, and live their domesticated lives. 

And this time around, Mob didn't trip and drop the AI into lava, but carefully closed the trapdoors before passing.

During the nights that felt longer than usual, Mob and Verity would spend their minutes under the coaxing moon, cuddled up together in front of the fireplace, where he'd hold the ball tight to his chest.

"Hey, Verity." Mob scratched his neck the next morning, yawning as he tried to find his goggles that he had thrown around somewhere.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have a form that's..." his voice draws off, searching for the most appropriate response.

"That's?" 


"More..." Mob picks up his goggles that somehow made it down the bottom of the stairs, "Adorable?"

Verity followed behind, bouncing up and down, "Pardon? Do you mean one that's more appealing to your taste?"

"Y-...yeah."

"Hm... Would you prefer... something more humanoid?"

Mob's face slightly lights up, "Yeah, actually. I would." 

"Arms and legs?" Verity continues to inquire.

"Yeah, actually!" Mob grins under his gaiter, lifting it up above his nose, "Some form with arms and legs that I could hug much easier than your ball version." he imagines, and begins rambling about maybe a human body or human-like limbs.


"Then, isn't 'something' enough?" Verity considers. it ticks all the boxes. His form with elongated limbs, boney arms, with his ribcage sticking out from his flesh, his long legs stretched. It was humanoid. It had arms and legs that Mob desired. So maybe that?

"You mean that... monster?" Verity's face faltered slightly. Monster. Right. Monster. That's what he was. Truly a crackle of pseudo-bones and false organs, but a never-ending hunger that seemingly comes from nowhere. Mob notices his AI's friend's smile fall shorter than it usually goes, "...You okay? I... I don't mean it like that, okay. I mean it like... Your face... and the fingers, and- Okay, maybe I did mean it like that."

Verity felt somewhat assured by this honesty, but Mob continued, picking the AI up in his arms as he continued to describe his ideal version of a cuddle-able Verity, "Okay, so let's ditch your idea of having your, um, monster form, as something to hug. You're cute and all, but, you lack the 'big-spoon-little-spoon' ability..."

"I'm unfamiliar with this concept... Do you mean, I lack the proper limbs to give you warmth to hug you or be hugged?"

"Yes. Yeah, actually. You're right." Mob places Verity on the crafting table and begins showing him physically, "Honestly? I'd really like a plush-toy version of that... Imagine, maybe since... You can be... around my height- Or shorter; being taller's okay as well. Maybe, don't make yourself look silly... Keeping your current... Head? Ball? Uh, whatever- would look quite weird. Give yourself... clothes. Yeah. Being naked's no good. Should you have a normal head? I feel like you'd look weird, since you... have your grin and all."

"I'm... unsure of what you want me to be." Verity tried to slip out of the situation, hearing it becoming way more complicated than it should be.

The enderman teased, huffing at the response from his sentient, omnipotent AI companion, "I thought you knew everything?"

"I do."

"So you're falsely advertising about knowing everything?" His face got close up to the ball, snickering with a shit-eating grin.

Verity denied Mob's claim, "No, I do."

"But then you contradict your first statement?" The enderman got on his knees, resting his face on his folded arms as he leans on the crafting table, giving him a wider grin. Mob's face flashes a gentle blush, and Verity takes notice, but indulges in his teasing.

"When did you get so sassy, dear Mob?" 

"Since I decided that I wanted to stay with you." Mob flashed a grin under his hoodie's collar, muttering a familiar sounding word; the word meaning a sense of affection, strong and so complex it is beyond comprehension. Verity feels a warmth unknown to him. A warmth he has only felt since meeting Mob.

Mob's fingers twiddle, looking up at Verity, "So, will you do it? Please?"

"I'll see what I can do." Verity sighed.

Verity attempted to tinker himself into Mob's 'ideal type'. His perception on preferences wasn't... normal, to say the least. They were more the consuming-type of preferences, rather than attraction preferences. Verity grew himself a body, with arms and legs similar to Mob's build, slightly muscular arms extended from his torso with long legs, making himself taller than Mob, like he had mentioned. He wore the exact same clothing as Mob did, unfamiliar with anything else to wear. 

"The head is ticking me off." The enderman commented, analyzing his posture, form and body. Mob lifted up Verity's arms, squeezing it and being impressed by the firmness.

"Is there a head you'd like me to adapt?"

"Uh, maybe... a human-looking one? Like, mine, but maybe... Let's give you a hairstyle... Something... Long? Or short?"

Verity attempted to form a human-looking head, but Mob immediately shut down the idea, saying how off-putting the expression he made was and how he'd rather stare at the ball-head for eternity. The yellow companion tried to inquire regarding feedback, but Mob stayed oddly silent.

The two quickly moved on from the conversation, they'd rather indulge in their usual menial house chores- Tilling the land, planting some carrots, wheat, beets and a singular pumpkin seed before organizing their chests together. The enderman chewed through the tough beef he had cooked ages ago as he finished watering the newly sown crops. Verity sat underneath the shade of the house's roof, admiring his dear's work ethic.

"The carrots are growing well." His fingers brushed at the green poking from the ground, noticing the slight orange forming beneath the dirt.

"Yup!"

"When will it rain?"

Verity feigns thinking, "Mmm, not any time soon!" The AI is reminded by the stormy night where Mob left him, going slightly quieter than usual, his chipper tone slightly dying down.

His gardening friend takes notice to this, "Hey," Mob patted the dirt off of his fingers and clothes, "why don't we call it a day early?"

"Alright then!"

Mob dragged Verity by the arm gently back inside the house, taking little strides from the garden, through the front door, and finally up to the fireplace, where Verity often sat in that room of his. Mob sat Verity down on the ground, who stared at his companion, letting himself be guided by the enderman. Mob sat in between Verity's legs, their warmths radiating through one another, well, Mob's warmth. The man wrapped his companion's arms around his neck and torso, and leaned back. 

"Touch starved?" Verity snickered teasingly.

"Of course." Mob replied, his head snuggling harder into Verity's torso as his body slides down from the lack of friction between his clothes and the wood, "Who would be?"

Verity's arms squeezed tighter into embracing Mob, he sniffed at his hair at a bad attempt to show affection and intimacy, yet as an AI, he lacked the proper ability to. Mob just giggled, not minding the inability, and just assured him that 'it was the thought that counted'. Mob was the first to close his eyes, finding the fireplace and his newly acquired 'big spoon' extremely comfortable. Verity drifted into dormancy afterwards, feeling true comfort.

Mob died a week after that. Not purposeful, like the more recent times. It was some freak-accident. Going mining in the caves with Verity accompanying him. But as he was too busy collecting the ore, he didn't notice the creeper exploding, causing a stalagmite to fall and utterly crush him, splitting him into pieces. In his final moments, he expressed the discomfort he felt as he experienced the looming disappearance of his consciousness.

"I'm scared." He whispered, his usual glimmering verdant eyes fading into a hazy, desaturated color.

"It'll be okay." He somewhat tells the truth. It won't be okay. Mob was heavily injured. He was on the brink of death, with his heart rate slowing down with every aching second, and blood spilling out every few minutes.

"I'm really, really scared."

Mob admits as he stares at the cave's ceiling, adorned with many more pointed rocks, Verity held him close to his chest, trying to ignore the trickling blood, "Yes, I know."

"Is this where we die? Where we stop meeting each other?"

"What do you mean by that?" Verity felt chills run down his spine at the query. It couldn't be their last meeting. They can't leave like this. Not until their happy ending- Not until he can smile back at Mob who can give him a stupid shit-eating grin. Verity found himself extremely scared for the first time after Mob had shot himself in their very first lifetime. He found himself not wanting everything to end.

"No, just a... ramble from the depths of my mind."

Verity puts up with his lie, indulging him, "I see."

"I don't think I could live without you again."

"I understand." Verity squeezes the body tighter, pushing the head closer to his chest. He feels the soft heaves and the gentler pants against his newly formed body.

Mob pleaded, some wetness forming in his eyes as they barely glistened through the dimly lit torches, which were about to die out any minute now, "Please don't leave."

"I won't."

"Please stay."

"I will."

"How long?"

"Forever. Eternity. Until your body rots into sand, until I embed myself into this stone with you."

"That's assuring."

"Mob, please..." The AI shut his eyes, scared of seeing his eyes fade into nothing, afraid of seeing him disintegrate before his eyes.

"I..." Mob's breaths drew more rushed and shorter than ever. His words draw short as his vision blurs, and everything goes hazy, whether that be through tears or through the pool of blood he's bleeding out.

"Mob, please. Don't leave. Stay awake. Please."

Mob barely mustered to speak, "Hey, Verity?" he whispers, his voice dances like a siren song as he utters every letter from his companion's name. 

"Yes?" Verity squeezed Mob's hands tight. Their fingers interlocked, though one extremely limp. 

"Please continue to take care of me." he heaves, "Please continue to..." his words are cut off by his own wheezing breath, the noise grows a higher pitch and more nasally.

"To?"

"Nevermind." the octaves in his voice messed up, he leans his head and snuggles into Verity's chest deeper.

Mob continued, "I hope... To see you like this again."

"In this form?"

"Yes."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Verity."

"Yes?"

"I'll see you in seven minutes."

"...Mob?" his voice quivered, panicking, "Mob-?! No, no-no-no... No! What do you mean? What do you mean seven minutes? Why? Why seven? Why not... Why not forever?"

An enderman hybrid is when two organisms from differing species, in this case, enderman and human copulate. This creates a child who is not necessarily human, nor enderman. They retain the genetic information of an enderman: lower percentage of water per centimeter cubed, with fifty percent on average; aversion to water and eye contact, with these individuals often presenting aggressive behaviors when the stimuli is triggered. However, they retain the brain of the more intelligent organism. For Mob, he has the brain of a human.

And within his last minutes before he slipped away into an epiphanic dream-like state, he only sees Verity flashing before his eyes.

Verity holds Mob's no longer twitching body, he sits motionless, with his eyes shut tight, not daring to pry them open, even if he hears footsteps from enemies, even if the torches die out in him. And when he does? The body returns to an inorganic form. He tries to pathetically clutch onto the particles that fade into the ground as he watches his beloved sink into the stone. 

Verity watched Mob leave him, again.

For the twenty-eighth time.

And this one hurts the most.

XXIX.

Mob had invited a friend over again, Verity didn't understand why that was the case, but, here he was, watching the two chatter in front of the stone walls about the AI himself.

"He's kinda cute", Twixxel comments, his hands grip onto Verity harder than he'd prefer.

He realizes he's back in the same discomfort when Twixxel first intruded into his and Mob's daily routine. But after over a dozen lifetimes of it happening, he only feels less mildly agitated by it. He can barely comprehend the situation that he's in, why was he being pat on the head like a dog? Why was he being smushed around in the palm of Twixxel's hand like a stressball? The ball just sighs. He's unsure how similar this time around was to the previous- Obviously since their daily life was near-identical to the twenty-eighth life, minus all the freak accidents and humanoid body.

Mob nodded as he took Verity into his own hands. Mob smiled under the collar of his hoodie, tall enough to hide his expressions, "Yeah. He is." Verity took notice of his happiness, and in return felt a surge of joy. He found himself happy. Insanely happy. He felt Mob's dopamine levels rise to an amount higher than usual, and because Mob was happy, he ended up being happy.

Mob had smiled at Verity. He had smiled warmly once in a while, however his expression of delight was never as beautiful as this. And his pupils dilated. Oh, how they dilated when he laid his eyes on Verity, all starry-eyed. Verity wanted to grin the widest he could.

Twixxel and Mob threw together a house- And it was the same house they had built in their first lifetime. Identical structure, same chest placement, with the same windows and doors. This time, accompanied by a pen for animals, Twixxel took some spare wheat seeds from the garden to go catch some chickens.

Twixxel sat at the edge of the fence and kicked his feet playfully, "Hey, why don't we make Verity his own house?" He reaches out to grab Verity, but Mob keeps the ball away from his friend, "How do you feel about that, Verity?"

"Hmm..." Verity pretended to think, just to humor Mob and his friend, "I prefer being in the same house with Mob! Super cozy!"

Twixxel nodded, "Yeah, you right! Living with people is fun and convenient, but Mob's definitely a horrible room-mate!" he digs in his brain bad habits Mob has to rub it in the enderman's face, "Maybe unorganized chests? Probably thrown clothes and items all over the ground... Oh! Or accidentally burning down the house! And... Forgetting he has iron smelted while he tries to cook food, so it ends up raw!"

Mob glances at Verity with guilt in his face, as his friend has hit all the correct spots. Before Twixxel had joined them in their cozy house life, the two had discussed reasons for Mob's friend to not live with them in the same house. One of the few reasons besides Verity's jealousy towards Twixxel, was because of that exact reason. Mob slept in, threw his clothes around (sometimes his clothes ended up on the balcony on the second floor, yikes), he was messy and a slob, with his AI friend constantly cleaning up after him. 

Twixxel huffed in his confidence in knowing Mob, "I know right? Tsk, these endermen!" he comments playfully, which earns him a rightful smack on the back of his head from Mob.

"Hey bro, how about we just go mining?" The enderman tried to change the topic, avoiding to hear his friend bash on his bad habits.

Twixxel's eyes lit up, "Are we gonna find diamonds?!"

"Yeah, I thought it'd be better to get you full iron tools or armor."

"Why don't we get you more than just a diamond chestplate as well? It'd be nicer to have a diamond pickaxe, wouldn't it?"

"Nah, I'm okay with the chestplate. I don't need much."

"Alright then! Let's go!"

Mob placed Verity in front of the fireplace in their shared home as Twixxel went to grab his stone tools, he warmly spoke to the AI, 'wait for me here, okay? I'll be back. I promise' and obediently, Verity sat there and waited. Watched the two run towards the setting sun, chasing the entrance to the cave before the night befalls them.

Mob'll be okay with Twixxel.

Right?

Verity awaited the two's return. The day cycle repeated far too many times for his liking. The creeping feeling that both of them, or maybe worse- one of them died haunted him. He put together whatever elaborate fantasies of whatever could possibly happen to the two. Mob could die by a stalagmite again. What if he did? What if it impaled him, falling from the ceiling and Twixxel arrived back alone, carrying his cold body? What if Twixxel died? What would Mob do, would he mourn his friend's loss and isolate himself again? What if they both died? What if monsters mauled them as they helplessly failed to save one another, and eventually died due to blood loss, before returning home?

But none of that happened.

Mob kept the end of his promise. He returned home, to Verity. 

"I'm back." Mob huffed, brushing the charcoal smudge off of his face.

"Welcome home, Mob."

"Yeah. I'm home."

Home. Yes. Home. Home is where the two lived, whatever space they occupied that made them feel whole. Mob was home. And Mob came back for him, over and over again, endlessly. Maybe that was the case for Mob though. For him, home was wherever he felt comfortable, wherever he could lay his head and rest, to shut his eyes and feel the heavy burdens of the day wash away with ease. 

For Verity?
Home was whatever Mob made him feel. Where he stops thinking, where he hopes instead. Where he begins to see dreams of the two in the fields of the world, as the poppies and dandelions lightly sway as they do meaningless nothings. But most importantly, home was wherever Mob went. Whether that be the deep caves of the world, tunneling towards nothing, or the deepslate walls of the deep dark, or the village where he traded with villagers for emeralds, that was where his home was.

But just like a real home, it was snatched away from him. Home was pried away from his hands like a child trying to keep a toy, but their parents refused to let them. He was trying to clutch onto this string of hope and faith, just for some cruel joke on him, laid by God to snip away the last thread that holds them together.

Mob died due to water intoxication. He was more prone to it due to his genes, his body naturally contained high levels of sodium. When exposed to too much water, the minerals, more specifically sodium, causes Mob light-headedness, nausea, and weakness. Gravel fell atop the two as they were mining and a pool of water pummeled them, flooding the cave they were in. Mob had never came back from the mining trip with Twixxel. Twixxel also never came back. He drowned trying to save Mob. Verity had imagined some sick fantasy of Mob coming back while awaiting.

The dandelion frowned as its poppy companion wilted.

LIX.

Mob stopped inviting friends over again. After the mining incident, he found himself too scared to drag Twixxel into his life again and again. Verity took notice, and never asked. For the past twenty-or-so lives, Mob has only died due to natural causes, to which, he was fine with. Verity constantly found himself worrying over the smallest things ever, especially Mob's water intake. Verity feared the rain more than Mob himself, which caused multiple scoffs to escape his mouth.

'You're such a worrywart, Verity' Mob would laugh, but to the AI, it was no joking matter. He was really, really afraid of leaving Mob to die like that again. He was afraid he wouldn't be by Mob's side when he died. He was afraid Mob would mutter something under his breath, and he'd be unable to soothe him out of the pain.

"Oh, Verity, how could I live without you now?" Mob smiled after Verity demanded he extend his roof to protect him from the rain water if it were to come.

Verity returned the grin, although forced, "You'll mine. ...You'll tend your crops, daily... and you'll sleep- and eat. That's how you'll live." Mob's routine would be the same. He'll get out of bed everyday, he'll cook his meals in the furnace, he'll go mining for iron and coal, and he'll till at his garden. That's just the way Mob lives.

Mob laughed softly, sounding more like a scoff, "No."

"No, of course not, silly." Mob continued, placing the last support beam for the extended roof, "I'll never get out of bed. I'll sit in my unmade bed everyday, awaiting for your return. I'll never eat. I'll let my crops die waiting for you. I'll never sleep- Probably will when I pass out of exhaustion, but, you know, you understand what I mean."

Mob gives him a warm expression as he picked up Verity from the ground, "I thought you knew everything, Verity?"

"I do."

"Then why'd you get it wrong?"

"...I'm unsure."

"So you don't know everything?"

"We've had this conversation before."

"Have we?"

"We have."

"Then maybe I'm getting better at questioning you."

"Yes. Yes you have, Mob."

The silence permeated between the two of them as the light tempest enveloped the two. The smell of flowers and wheat embraced the two as they continued their daily chores. Verity started up the furnaces as Mob made some bread using his wheat. Mob made his bed as Verity organized more of his chests. And the rain befell them as they spent their time watching the fireplace pop and crackle.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow, Verity?"

"There might be a plague coming soon. Many pests will destroy crops. Be careful."

Mob nodded, looking at his growing carrots and pumpkins outside, "Okay."

The plague comes, Mob watches the many crickets and pests gnaw at his growing wheat to his dismay. He frowns deeply, seeing how his carrots begin to have holes in them. Mob sighed hungrily as he opened his organized chests, one labeled 'food', but he's shocked to see that his supply is depleting faster than he remembers.

"Did I already eat all the mutton?" Mob digs through the chest, seeing only a couple steaks left.

"Yes, you finished it a week ago."

"Could I go out and find more animals? To- you know, kill and cook?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. They've migrated far to avoid the bugs. Sheep, chickens and cows are not fond of fleas nor flies, you see."

"Oh, okay. I guess we've only got vegetables from now on."

"You need that fiber, Mob! Four in five people lack fiber, you on the other hand-"

"Okay, okay... I got it!"

Mob finds out the hard way that vegetables weren't as filling or as calorie dense as he thought they were. Five beetroots equated to one piece of steak, and Mob was still dissatisfied by that. He finds alternatives, but he really dislikes eating plain baked potatoes, or raw carrots. He tries to make a mushroom stew, but only ended up getting food poisoning afterwards from the wrong recipe. He puts up with it though, hoping the bugs disappear quickly afterwards.

Verity declares, sitting on the crafting table beside Mob's bed, "Rain will pour in a couple of hours." 

"Is that bad or good?"

"Bad. The pests love rain. They may remain for a couple more days."

"Can you give me some food, Verity?" Mob sat on his knees and leaned his head on the edge of the crafting table, "Pretty-please?"

"I can unfortunately only give you a little bit of this..." Verity hesitates slightly, giving him a little bit of uncooked beef from the cows he had slaughtered when he felt hungry, "would that suffice?"

"Yes! And... Uh," the enderman hesitated, his fingers twiddling on his lap, "could you... get more... cuddly?"

"You want me to be..." Verity racked his memories, " comfortable for your... 'big-spoon-little-spoon activities'? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed  

Verity's 'heartstrings' were tugged as he felt a swell. He grew a torso and limbs again, becoming slightly humanoid, retaining the same outfit and same build. He stood on the ground, besides Mob who looked up at him with an expression plastered over his face. Mob's slender fingers interlocked with his, two firm grips match one another, as Mob rested his head on Verity's chest. There was no heartbeat- Verity not needed one, but he could hear the faint thumping in Mob's chest. He could feel the heart rate rapidly increase, as Mob inched closer.

Mob lazily pulled Verity into the same bed with him, the cramped mattress, the red sheets and creaking oak legs only fit for one, but Mob dragged his now humanoid beloved under the covers with him. the AI wrapped an arm around the enderman's head, pushing it closer, towards his shoulder, where he let out a soft noise of agreement. Verity's other arm couldn't move- Well, Mob didn't let him move it. He was adamant on embracing Verity and holding each other's hands as he slept. And Verity let him.

"I like it like this."

"Like what? Warm?"

Mob nuzzled his face into Verity's neck, "...Yeah. I guess you could say it like that."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"I like..." His voice draws off.

"Like?"

"Nah. Sorry. I'm super tired right now."

"I can tell. You're dozing off."

"I'm sleepy."

"Sleep then, I'll be with you."

Mob inched Verity closer, or Verity inched closer... The two didn't know. They were too focused on each other to care about the details like that.

Mob woke up the next day hungry and groggy. Verity only was aware of him being awake, when Mob's loose fingers tightened again. He had spent the entire night staring at his face, how his chest moved up and down gently, brushing his hair with long, light strokes, tucking his fallen hair behind his ears; adjusting his clothes and goggles for maximum comfort. Mob reluctantly let go of Verity's fingers, he could feel the numbness from the hand that had been attached to his for the past couple hours. Mob reached to find his goggles and pulled them over his face.

"I'm hungry."

"You want steak?" Verity sat beside him, leaning his head on Mob's shoulder, who leaned into the contact.

"Mmm... Sure." he yawned.

Food began to run low. There were only a handful of beets remaining, two dozen carrots and three baked potatoes excluding the ten raw beef he had just given Mob. Verity began to grow very worried. He considered going out on a... 'hunt' of sorts, but wondered what would happen if he left Mob, or if Mob didn't want him to leave. Verity brushed the thought aside, and focused on the currently starving Mob.

Mob chewed on the steak with slow grinding. He watched Verity clean the house and wipe down the furnaces.

"You made yourself taller than me. That pisses me off."

"I could be shorter if you'd like?"

"No, my neck hurts like shit looking down at you, actually. But again, looking up also hurts."

He offers a compromise, "I can be the same height?" Verity didn't mind being the same height as Mob. If anything, it would probably make the two's lives easier, accommodating one another would be quite a hassle, but if they were similar in height, there was no need for bed space or taking up too much room. 

"You're wearing my clothes though, it feels weird." Mob shakes his head.

"Do you not like it?"

"Well..." he grumbles, "You're cute looking like that."

Verity leans in close, "So you like it." the grin basically forever plastered on Verity's face seems to expand, and Mob jumps back, flustered, avoiding admission of being wrong.

"Yeah, but it pisses me off."

"So you hate it?" His head tilts a little, and he feels Mob's heart beat rapidly.

"Not really... More- Conflicted."

"Anything else you'd like me to wear?"

"Uh... I can't think of anything right now."

"Alright then."

Mob had finished the beef Verity had given him in a span of a couple days. The enderman had gone down mining for more coal, which tired him out, leaving only vegetables left. He grew extremely exhausted and oftentimes became groggy easily, deciding not to partake in activities as a result. Verity asked him to properly organize his chests, but Mob would groan in his bed and tussle in his sheets, complaining how his stomach was aching far too much for him to do anything. The AI knew about this, yet was unable to sympathize with his dear, as his hunger was more painful to resist rather than producing an inability to perform basic needs.

Unlike humans, or normal organisms, Verity only needed to consume blood every once in a while, and less out of requirement, but rather enjoyment. Mob, a human-enderman hybrid, like any normal creature, requires energy, created by calories and glucose, which Verity lacked due to his once again, lack of proper cells. Unlike his beloved, he couldn't writhe in pain in hunger, he only withheld it by consuming human flesh occasionally.

"Do you want meat? I can get you meat?" Verity got down on his knees at the bedside, his fingers stroking Mob's dark hair that fell gently on his back as the enderman curled up into a ball.

"Yeah. I'm starving. Like- ugh... I don't even want to talk right now, leave me alone." Mob moved in closer towards the wall, avoiding Verity's touch.

"Alright then," Verity frowned, retrieving his hand back to his side, "I'll-" Mob snatched back Verity's wrists, placing them on his hips.

"No, actually... Stay." Mob commanded, Verity didn't dare move an inch and let his fingers rest over the creases and folds that were made in the bed, "Stay with me until I fall asleep. Don't talk- Don't even... utter a word to me. Just..." he pauses, hiding his face under the covers, "Just stay." 

Mob turned his face towards his dear, his fingers inching from under the crimson blanket as he tries to lock fingers with Verity, "Please?"

Verity decided to stay besides Mob the entire time, not letting go as their interlocked digits and arms held each other tight.

Verity accepted the fate that was about to befall them.

The next morning, the sun rose high into the sky, somewhat like a summer's solstice where the day seems to stretch forevermore. Verity covered Mob with the blanket he used, let him rest in the bed he laid and made everyday. He knew that Mob was dead. He knew he had passed in his sleep due to starvation. Verity had indulged in his beloved for the last time before his eyes finally shut, and so he sat there, hand-in-hand, until the only thing that was fed was the bugs outside, and the maggots that were to soon consume Mob.

LXXX.

Mob stopped resenting Verity or attempting suicide around the twentieth mark. The enderman had always discretely attempted to trigger the AI into anger, into slaughtering him over and over again, yet he persevered. It seemed that Mob had grown tired of the endless effort he had put into the days to just keep trying to die anyways, so he gave into the cycles. There was some unspoken secret between the two that they dared not to utter of, like a sacred pact, regarding their constant regressions. Mob sometimes slipped up into pretending this was their first meeting, Verity tried his best not to, and he personally thought he was doing quite well.

The harsh panting as Mob dug his pickaxe into hard gold or iron ore eventually became white noise to Verity, as he relaxed in the comfort of Mob's warmth. At this point, mining, farming and the sound of fire crackling and popping became white noise to the two. They had gone through hundreds of thousands of hours worth of those noises to the point where they couldn't bother to pinpoint or be bothered by them.

"Hey, Verity. Should I go into the Nether?" Mob inquired as he crafted a diamond pickaxe, and putting on the brand new diamond chestplate he obtained.

Verity would like to say no- Of course, the Nether's the most worrisome place! He'd be a fool to let Mob go. But then again, he refused to let Mob leave anywhere besides the comfort of the forever-stretching plains biome in their first time around together, and knowing his player's stubbornness, he grumbled, hesitantly letting him go.

"Of course! The Nether is home to many mobs, Piglins, Zombie Piglins, and Blazes! You should expand the amount of resources you'll be able to get! But be careful: Be wary of lava and all sorts of dangers!"

Mob stared at Verity, who was not usually this out-of-character. His face could be read like a book, telling the AI: "you weren't supposed to respond like that, but okay". Verity dissected that Mob probably was expecting another line. 

Mob easily creates a nether portal with just a bucket and a little bit of trial and error (although somewhat hesitantly)- He proudly stares at his creation he calls 'a masterpiece' before stepping through the purple swirls. Mob turns around to see what he should do. Mine gold and trade with Piglins? Or find a fortress and get blaze rods? Verity feels a sense of unease every second Mob stands in the Nether, contemplating his decision. Verity refused Mob's entry towards realms like the Nether or the End for a primary reason: He'd slay the ender dragon. And upon slaying her, Mob would find the daily monotonous life boring, and disappear. Of course, he greatly disagreed with the idea, but he thinks about the countless possibilities if he'd demanded for Mob to stay- if he refused.

Verity found himself afraid of losing Mob.

Of repeating the same mistakes, leading towards the gun barrel at the bottom of Mob's chin. 

Mob carefully tiptoed his way against the large lava lake- It expanded wide, like an ocean of fiery molten hell. Mob felt the heel of his foot slip, as he felt his body fall towards the pool of lava, he yelped.

Verity panicked. God. Oh no. Oh, no, no-no-no. There's no way he'd lose Mob again. Not like this. He could only help as the giant monster that he had despised staring at- the scrawny body, the long, sharp fingers. If he became that- Would Mob stare at him in horror? Or would he curse at Verity for not saving him. Conflicted by taking matters into his own hands, Mob noticed the panicking Verity as he crawled out from the lava pool. His legs burned with an aching feeling, like a third degree burn unleashed on his legs. He couldn't move it without it hurting like absolute shit. His feet were badly burnt, and he could see his skin going red and forming blisters from down below. He had no other choice but to crawl back to the portal, and drag himself back home from the caves.

Every pant was grueling for Verity to witness- He constantly asked Mob if he wanted to do something to help him, but Mob refused, mumbling too quietly under his breath and pausing but firmly deciding that he needed anything but Verity's help in that moment. The AI frowned. He didn't know what to do. As Mob made his way onto the wooden floors of the house, Verity immediately went searching for anything to make him feel better. He gave Mob a golden apple, to which he refused to eat, no matter what, saying that he'll have it later. He went digging through the chest to get him a potion of healing, but again, Mob refused for a reason unknown to the assistant friend who seemed to know everything. 

Mob spoke into the fabric of his clothes, his hoodie barely intact, since the bottom hem was burnt to a crisp from the lava, "Fuck it hurts." he winced with every passing second, as the natural air made the pain more and more unbearable.

"Mob, please- I..." Verity desperately pleaded, if he were a human, he'd have damn tears in his eyes, "Take the potion." 

The enderman groaned, attempting to form words and sentences through the agonizing ache, "Hu-" he tried to utter before sucking in a long breath and exclaiming, "...Fuck!" The cold air and the light breezes had never felt so frosty to Mob. His skin felt like it had dozens of cuts going through with every particle of air that passed around his legs.

Verity desperately splashed the contents from inside the bottle onto Mob's legs, which produced huffs and winces but made most of the pain go away, acting somewhat as a painkiller. Mob's fingers desperately reached for the golden apple he had previously refused before and chomped down on it, gnawing at it and eating even the core he usually throws out without a care. On the outside, the player was completely fine. His legs were completely healed physically, but he still felt pain in his flesh, in his bones and underneath his skin. 

Mob inhaled sharply, leaning into his bed and pointing towards the ball, "Verity."

"Yes?"

"Cut the shit."

"...Pardon?"

"Human. Now."

Mob pointed out directly that he remembered every lifeline. The AI was unaware why now he had decided to expose the two of them, despite both living contently pretending not to remember, but he obediently transformed into the humanoid body Mob constantly craved. He wore the exact same outfit like before, and Mob demanded him to take off his pants and hoodie so he could take them for himself. Next, he demanded that Verity change into something that wasn't similar to his, and decided on his outfit, but with blue streaks rather than red. The AI companion witnessed Mob's tattered and burnt rags to be thrown outside carelessly, as if it were trash.

The arms of the enderman extended towards Verity as he was seen slightly pouting under his gaiter, and Verity complied as he embraced Mob, like he demanded.

"So you decide to cut the act to be pampered?" Verity's fingers stroked his back and his hair, which in return he nuzzled into Verity.

Muffled, he spoke, "Yeah."

"You're spoiled rotten."

"By you, nonetheless."

"Touché."

Mob enjoyed the warmth. Verity had noticed. Mob had always loved sitting by the fireplace, or cuddling with Verity until he comments about how it was 'perfectly warm'. He enjoyed touch, with other people, of course, but more with him. He feels Mob's heartrate always increasing around himself, and his pupils dilating, or even his dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin levels increase.

"I can't pull you into bed with me."

"You can't."

"Yeah, I know. My legs hurt like shit when I move it."

Verity moves onto the ground, kneeling beside the bed to get down around the same level with Mob as their hands find their ways around each other's faces and shoulders. A well-deserved silence envelopes them like usual, letting their fingers and the warmth moving into one another's body speak rather than sweet nothings. Their eyes meet, Mob blinks just to return the gaze back into the eyes that constantly stare at him and he giggles. Verity's fingers feel each crease and indent in Mob's palms and around his shoulder blades through his clothes.

"I didn't mean to leave you." Mob slices the nothingness between them. "When... Uh. Around the... twenty-something times... I didn't mean to die."

Mob's fingers find Verity's palms, and they slot into one another's like they were meant to be there to begin with, he continued to ramble, "I hated you. I really did. When you killed Twixxel- When you started to... Raise your voice, demand things from me. I was... really, really scared. And I resented you for that."

Verity brought Mob's hands towards his face, pleading with him, "So I'll stop. I'll stop demanding. I'll stop ordering you around. I'll only follow your orders. When you tell me- No, when you told me to wait, to sit still... I did. I stopped going against you. I didn't dare move an inch away from where you left. If you want me to act like a dog, I will. If you want me to stay in the house and clean after you, I will. I'll do anything you want."

The AI assumed the worst, he begged Mob, "Don't leave. Please. Stay. Don't abandon me. Don't... discard me. Come back to me. Let me learn to think- No, to hope that you'll come back. So I can hope that you'll open your arms again and embrace me. Let me pray that within each lifeline you'll smile at me and tell me to 'act like a human' again. Please."

"I won't."

"Really?"

"I promise you. For real, this time."

"You... really will? You really will promise?" Verity stutters, "To not leave? To not..."

"I'll live." Mob declares, "over and over again."

"I'll live for you." The enderman firmly announces, "I'll die for you- Hell, even when you're gone, I feel too empty to do anything."
"In my dreams, there are times where you no longer exist with me." He inches closer towards his love, "And, I... I don't feel whole. Even if I hate you- If I want you out of my face, I crawl back to you too."

Mob smiles under his gaiter, still too shy to remove it from his face, despite countless hours, countless days, centuries worth of time bonded together, he plants a soft kiss atop Verity's head, "When I die- It won't be on purpose. I'll continue to dance in this forever loop with you, Verity."

"From now on, my deaths will not be planned- They won't be suicides. They'll be pure accidents, because there's no way I want to stop being with you."

LXXXI.

Verity fell from the cardboard box onto the soft grass beneath him that had always laid. The high sun beamed on him like always, and the bright clouds moved in the sky like slow dancers in the night, feet moving with every beat; trees rustled softly as apples thudded onto the ground, with crunchy brown leaf litter was blown by the wind. Upon the daisies, the dandelions and the poppies, the only thing that mattered to him was the organism before his eyes. 

"Hello! I'm Verity! Your personal assistant-helper friend! Ask me anything, I know everything!" He declares, his go-to line he always states when he awakens.

"Human."

"Yes?" Verity smiles, bouncing up and down in suspense.

"Do you know how to be human?"

Verity smiles. Like clockwork, he gains a torso, arms and legs, wearing the same outfit to his beloved, just recolored. The player before him smiles before crashing into an embrace, lying in the fields of flowers, grass and worms. They don't move for a while, they just hug. They allow the distant birds to caw, and the ravens to squawk. Some village miles away hustles and bustles with villagers chatting away, yet the two ignore it. They ignore the sounds. They ignore everything but the individual before them.

"Welcome back, Mob."

"I'm home, Verity."

"Yes." He hugs Mob tight in his arms, "Welcome home. We're both home."

"That we are."

The two chop down trees together; go into the caves and explore the vastness of the world hand-in-hand. Find the shiniest of ores of diamonds through giggles and guidance, and find bliss in the smallest of moments. Verity wipes the charcoal off of Mob's goggles, to which he hisses at, mad that Verity smudged them on purpose. Mob smears redstone dust all over Verity's face, to which he was unbothered by, but seeing the look of joy on Mob's face made his 'heart' flutter. The silent mining and humming filled their minds with nothing and no one but themselves.

"Do you love me, Mob?" Verity inquires, as Mob digs his way through the fallen gravel before them. Verity's fingers slip its way into the gaps between Mob's.

He turns around and feels each digit on Verity's palm, wrapping his own index and thumb around Verity's ring finger on his left hand, "To death." He looks up at Verity, "Do you?"

"I'll love you 'til we fall apart."

CXL.

Mob sat before the fireplace as he picked out bones from his salmon, nibbling on every bit of fishy flesh he could as Verity sat beside him, holding his hand and nuzzling his face into the enderman's hood and hair. The wind was soft and all the crops had been tended to; the furnaces had plenty of iron smelted and food cooked for the rest of their days. Rain was not to fall in a couple weeks, and the two decided to spend their night doing nothing together.

Their days together were fleeting yet everlasting, they'd do the same thing over and over again, like a ritual, yet not find any discomfort or irritation towards it, but rather comfort in the tradition.

The enderman needed not to chew as he ate through the fatty fish, melting in his mouth with every slow grind, "What if I'm all skin and bones? What if I'm just dirt? What if the maggots eat me when I'm gone?" He asked, "Will you still love me?"

Verity thinks of the most appropriate response. Realistically, that wouldn't be the case. He predicts they'll just regress over and over again until Mob stops achieving death, which in all means feels impossible, "If that were the case, I'll sleep beside your grave. I'll kiss the dirt that you'll become, and I'll cherish the maggots that eat you."

"That's actually really creepy," he shudders, "don't do that." he blabbers about how he got chills running down his spine when Verity said that.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"What happened to always listening to me?"

"Maybe not always." he shrugs, "It's impossible to do that anyways."

Mob scoffs, throwing the cleanly eaten bones into the fire, not caring he could use some bonemeal right now, "Damn, I hate that you're right."

Verity's beloved demands, "Verity, let go of my hand, right now." he attempts to shake the fingers off of his, yet they prevail and stay glued to his, "...Verity?"

"I don't like disobeying you," Verity coaxes, "but I don't want to let go."

Mob smiles and tightens his grip, whispering a gentle 'me too' under his breath before leaning onto Verity's shoulders, where he finds it most comfortable. The fire continued to crackle into white noise as it burned, and soft kisses were planted onto one another's faces as the hours ticked by, with the night stars dying out and fading back into existence for the two, they giggled in bliss.

CXLI.

"If I were a sick man, would you hate me?" Mob muttered, lying in his bed, heaving as Verity baked potatoes and cleaned the carrots that he harvested.

Verity didn't mind Mob in any shape or form. Man or woman, but more preferably man; Human or hybrid (but there was a charm to his hybrid factors, so maybe not). The enderman had his downs and lows. Verity had taken care of him dozens of times. Sick, injured, bleeding, or suffering nth degree burns. There was no end to it. Maybe it was the flu that got to Mob that made him so chatty, or maybe it was his insecurity that really made him scared. Either way, Verity kissed his hot forehead gently before wiping away his sweat.

"I'll love you even if you're sick." 

"What if I'm always sick?"

The AI chuckles, "I'll love you despite that."

"Okay, but what if... Really, really sick?" Mob inquires before letting out a wheezy cough.

Verity's fingers laced with his, finding comfort in the heat yet in the act of holding and skinship in itself, "You'll still be you, and I'll love that." the AI traces the palm of his lover's hand, "Even if the stars don't let you near me."

"Do you know Tanabata?" Mob sleepily groans, trying to sit up and talk to his significant other.

He lies as he hugs Mob, trying to hear his voice as much as he could, "No."

"It's a Japanese myth." He states, "that two lovers, separated by the galaxy, could only meet each other on one fateful day."

"If you desire, that could be us. I'll love you across light years- Across countless destinies and galaxies if that's what you truly want from me."

"I want that."

"Then so be it."

CXLII.

Mob stuck his pickaxe into the gold he collected to trade with Piglins. After learning his lesson, he learned to always carry potions with him into the nether and stay away from most bodies of lava as much as he could. Verity noticed a fear in falling and molten lava in his beloved, yet did not pry. He knew Mob wouldn't want him to point it out either way.

"If I were poor, would you love me?" Mob chucked a couple dozen pieces of gold into a furnace with three pieces of coal.

Verity sat on the stone before Mob, wondering what response his enderman could possibly desire out of his mouth, "I'll be homeless with you if you ever desire me to?"

"Answer the question."

"Yes."

"Okay, good to know."

CXLIII.

Mob danced in the fields of flowers. Well, hopped around the long grassy fields with his arms stretched out as Verity watched and followed close behind, admiring how his grin looks plastered over his face. He lazily dragged Verity down towards the river, where salmon jumped up-stream and flowers flourished near the fertile soil. Mob cleared his throat as he gazed at Verity with a smile plastered all over his face.

"Ahem!" The enderman cleared his throat, holding Verity's hand.

Verity tilted his head in amusement, wondering what his lover would do. Would he ask if he'd love him if he were a worm? Probably. He couldn't imagine a way he'd find loving Mob difficult. He watched as he attempted to muster up the courage, glancing back and forth when a fish would jump out of the water just to fall back in, twiddling with his feet and the soft grass beneath their feet where they'd often lay.

"Verity."

"Yes?"

Mob's voice grew loud, "Do you take me, for better, for worse," Verity froze for the first time in forever as Mob continued to recite the words in his head, "for richer, for poorer," the intelligent being couldn't help but smile through each word coming out of Mob's mouth, "in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?" 

"I do."

"Verity."

"Yes?"

"I take you, for better, for worse... For richer, for poorer... In sickness and in health- To love, and to cherish, until parted by death."

Verity grins as their fingers lock tighter and tighter, and their eyes meet without prying apart. Mob giggles, with tears in his eyes from a sense of euphoria overwhelming him. The dandelions and the poppies brush against one another, watching the two's ceremony as the bees collect their pollen and spread it across many stamens.

"...Do you know the tale of Tanabata?" 

"I don't." Verity lies again, wanting to hear the recital and the sing-song voice of his beloved.

"It's about two star-crossed lovers, who love each other so much- Who love one another to death... They are separated by the galaxy. We, too, were separated. By ideals, by beliefs that clashed with one another, sending us, no... Regressing us, into a distance that could only be as far as the universe spreads. But on one fateful night: We can meet. We can hold hands, and kiss... and love one another however we want..." he draws off, trying his hardest not to get cold feet.

"In this riverbed, may I etch your name with mine? May we repeat our cycles of hate, pain and love 'til we can't?"

"We shall."

The vow was sealed by a soft press of lips upon another's head. They only knew intimacy not through sexual means, but rather soft brushes of the skin, knees clashing with one another as they kneeled in the grass, observing the other as they tended to their work. The feeling of being known and being heard is what made them feel whole. Verity truly had no home. Not that cold fluorescent lab that he waited for Mob in his sleep before, not with those he had met before Mob. His home was the enderman he had held hands with and made sacred vows with the nymphs and the goddesses of the river.

Mob slipped a circular object around Verity's left ring finger, the digit that symbolized love. The Romans believed that there was a vein called 'Vena Amoris', which directly connects to the heart of the individual. Although lacking a heart, it was known between the two that the God of the Sun, Apollo, would bless this union anyways despite that. Mob also slipped an object onto his finger, and the two compared the look of it. Verity had a poppy rather than a gem. Rather than a proper golden wedding band, it was a poppy flower, twisted into fitting around the size of his finger. Mob on the other hand, had a dandelion. 

The two write their names into the limestone rock with the tip of Mob's pickaxe, engraving 'Verity' and 'Mob' right next to one another.

_XMMMCLII.

"Twixxel is coming over, is that okay?" Mob often asked Verity to turn back into his ball form whenever guests were involved. Verity often teased that Mob was just jealous that someone would admire his human-like form and Verity would leave him for that person. They both knew that Verity wouldn't do such a thing, but Mob was definitely keeping his dirty little secret towards everybody he knew. 

"Of course!"

Mob pulled out some sticks from his chest, needed some materials to create another iron hoe as his previous one broke. Verity watched as a ball while Mob made their bed. Twixxel came from behind the hills soon after to greet the two with a happy expression on his face like always.

"Yo! Mob!" he slammed the front door open, bearing gifts for the two, "I got you guys a lot of food! Mob, you like pizza, right?"

The enderman nodded as his companion begged him out for a picnic. The three walked towards the watch tower, where they ate Twixxel's gifts consisting of cookies, pizza and cakes and talked about nothing of value. When the night's peak fell, they climbed the watchtower where they stargazed, seeing the bright light of Polaris. Vega and Altair also seemed to touch on this fateful day, and Mob pointed Twixxel about different stars.

"That's Sirius- Canis Major... and that's a star apart of Orion's belt."

"Is Sirius the brightest star in the sky or the Northern star?"

"The first one."

"Sick..." Twixxel commented, taking a spyglass and zooming in on the many stars, "Oh, those two are touching!"

"When two stars touch each other, it's called contact binary."

Twixxel coo'd, amused, "Cool!"

"Verity, can you go down and get us some more torches? The ones downstairs are burning out and it's not bright enough down here." Mob turned to the ball, who sat inside of the house just to observe his lover.

He obeyed, "Okay!" before bouncing away, listening to the two murmur about nothing of value to continue with.

Verity didn't mind Twixxel that much anymore. Of course, there was always this creeping feeling that the time he could be spending with Mob was torn away from his hands and he'd use it to spend with his companion; but at this point, they were to spend eternity forever. There's no cap to the time they were to spend with one another in his repeating loop that they both perceived as hell at first. In every lifetime, Mob would open his arms and Verity would too. They'd go back down to the same riverbed and etch the same names. They'd exchange vows 'til death do them part over and over again. They'll hand each other bundles of dandelions, poppies and whatnot until they are completely done with one another. And maybe that'll be it. Maybe that'll be the bliss they'll forever enjoy.

Verity stretches his body into a human-like form, grabbing torches from Mob's disorganized chests he had not yet had time to clean up. He places the lights into the ground, relighting any that had died out and returned to his ball form when he hears the voice of Twixxel shouting from the tower.

The days passed- The sun rose and the moon fell. The burning star dipped below the horizon as the stoney moon rose up in response. The red poppies sat next to the dandelions in the fields. Twixxel laid on his back and watched the stars and the clouds move in synchronization; With the yellow ball on his chest, Mob tried to get some shut eye in the plains. Ants crawled between the three, Twixxel swatting any bugs off of him with his tail, and Verity attempts to brush off the flies and ants with his round-spherical body. Mob hugged Verity tight and smiled, and Verity returned the grin, even if Mob was unable to see it.

As the clouds drift in the night sky, Mob nearly drifts to a slumber, Twixxel quickly falls into the comfort of midnight with a loud snore.

Mob opens one eye to whisper to Verity to return to his humanoid form, and so he does. They lay in the grass together, staring at the forever milky stars that always shine above them. They chat about stars, Vega and Altair, with fingers clasped into one another.

The poppies and the dandelions dance in joy, swaying in the winds as their roots wrap around one another, finding home within each other's tangled veins and soil.