From Worlds So Different (Lily x 8-Bit) fanfic
Respawn Rules – Welcome to Star Park
In Star Park, death is not the end. It’s… a technical pause.
Here, brawlers don’t die. When they’re eliminated in combat, they simply “fall asleep.” Their consciousness shuts down for a while, as if someone pressed the reset button. After some time—sometimes minutes, sometimes hours—they wake up as if nothing had happened. No trauma, no permanent scars. Just a bit of confusion… and hunger, for some.
Elimination: When a brawler falls in battle, their body vanishes.
Respawn Room: Immediately, their consciousness is transported to a special room: a wide space filled with comfy couches, floating screens broadcasting battles in real time, and vending machines with all kinds of snacks (though no one knows who refills them).
Observation and Socializing: Brawlers can watch their teammates still fighting, comment on plays, make absurd bets, or simply relax—it’s like a video game lobby.
Return to Battle: When the system allows it, the brawler is teleported back into the arena through a specialized portal. Sometimes they reappear with style, sometimes they crash headfirst—it all depends on the system’s mood.
Although the body resets, some brawlers say certain things don’t fade so easily: emotions, memories, internal glitches. Because yes, you can return to battle… but you don’t always come back the same. At least, that’s what some believe. In this case, we’ll see it through 8-Bit.
Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to live in a world as crazy as Star Park? Imagine dying from the most absurd things, or being eliminated by objects you’d never believe could be weapons—and the strangest part is that the next day you wake up as if nothing happened, as if it had only been a sticky, bizarre dream. Here, brawlers don’t die: when eliminated, their consciousness is transported to a special waiting room, where they can watch ongoing battles and hang out until the system teleports them back into the arena.
In the middle of this endless cycle of chaos and reset, there’s an old machine called 8-Bit, a walking arcade cabinet wandering the streets of Star Park, barely paying attention to the noise around him. He was returning from a visit to Jessie—the genius daughter of Pam—to get new parts to keep himself running. His body needed constant repairs, his system was slow, his reactions clumsy, and his past… well, it hadn’t been kind. Throughout his life, he only had one certainty: he wouldn’t trust humans too much. Not because he truly hated them (though he forced himself to), but because something in his code told him to stay alert, temper firm, guard up.
He wasn’t the most remembered among the brawlers, but he enjoyed the peace he had now—no punches, no insults, no one disconnecting him for being “the hardest video game to win.” He had learned a bit of meditation, of inner peace, and along that path he met Rico and Brock, his gaming bros, his chosen family. Brock, addicted to video games and an expert at exaggerating stories, was a guy who rarely left home—though if there was a party, he’d be there without hesitation. Rico, another robot like him, was… peculiar, with such strange phrases that made you doubt his intelligence, but at least they made you laugh.
Among the three, 8-Bit was the logical one, the one who thought about consequences even for the smallest things, though he got angry easily. But even with them, sometimes he wondered why he existed. He saw others laugh, enjoy the moment, while he only thought about what came after: would that happiness last when everything ended? He felt joy with his friends, yes, but without them… he didn’t know who he was. He had no personal tastes, no plans, no purpose. Just something that exists, without knowing why—or if he even should.
He looked at Rico. Also a robot, but so different. Rico shined. His single yellow eye glowed with a warmth 8-Bit couldn’t understand, while his own eyes—projected on his screen—showed a pale blue, cold, distant. He never knew what those colors meant, but the contrast hurt. Maybe Rico had been happy ever since he met Piper, after that strange event with a vending machine that changed something inside him. Since then, Rico laughed more. And his yellow light never flickered.
8-Bit was resigning himself to being some kind of loser with no future. Alone in his room, he didn’t need much, really: just a power source to plug into. Still, he liked having a bed. Not because he slept like humans, but because there he could lie down, stare at the ceiling, and reflect… or judge himself. Sometimes he wondered if continuing to exist had any meaning. He saw others happy in the present, but he always thought about the aftermath—it was a cycle of pain, more psychological than physical.
He wasn’t a very sane machine. His mental state was, honestly, deplorable. But he had no bad intentions. He only worried about never feeling true happiness. Maybe he should never have taken that cursed coin. Maybe he should have stayed in ignorance. It had been a warning he ignored, driven by hate.
That night, 8-Bit lay down on his bed, plugged in his power cable, and closed his eyes. He entered rest mode. But something was different. His system didn’t shut down completely. Instead, he dreamed.
He dreamed of a Star Park without respawns. Without resets. A world where brawlers fell… and never returned. Where waiting rooms were empty. He walked alone through endless hallways, his screen flickering, searching for someone who was no longer there. No one called his name. He only heard the sound of his own steps and a distant voice repeating: “Game Over.”
He woke up suddenly. His system emitted a sharp beep. His screen trembled. For the first time in a long while, he felt fear. Not of dying. But of being alone forever, of losing the people he knew were worth it.
At that moment, Brock burst in dramatically, almost flying, as if the floor didn’t exist and gravity was optional. The door slammed open with an exaggerated creak, and his silhouette was outlined against the hallway light like the protagonist of an action movie… though he was only wearing mismatched socks and a crooked cap.
—“Brooo! There you are! I was looking for you!” he shouted, breathless, with a smile that already promised trouble.
8-Bit didn’t move. He stayed lying on his bed, plugged into his power source, screen barely lit. He had no intention of paying attention. He knew that tone. Surely it was another of those absurd bets Brock made with some bored brawler. Or worse.
—“No,” said 8-Bit, without even looking at him.
—“Come on, bro, just this once,” Brock insisted, with that fresh, carefree tone he used when he wanted to convince someone to do something stupid.
8-Bit sighed. He didn’t feel like fighting. He didn’t want another part of his body blown off, nor Jessie having to weld his leg back together with duct tape and sarcasm once the solder ran out. But Brock was still there, with that face, moving back and forth as if time was running out.
—“Just this once,” Brock repeated, raising three fingers as if that meant something.
8-Bit looked at him. His screen flickered. And although everything in his system screamed “no,” something in his core—perhaps the need not to be alone again, to avoid overthinking—made him say:
—“Fine. But if I get blown up again, you’re paying for the parts.”
Brock grinned as if he had just won a battle without fighting.
—“I knew you’d say yes! You’re the best, bro!”
And without giving him time to regret it, he grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room, straight into certain disaster.
I'm uploading here, translated into English, a fanfic I've been writing for a long time about my favorite ship. I hope you find it entertaining. I have a Wattpad account.
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