#hoo man.

[chrromatose]

i Impulse bought some paint markers, so here’s an ibuki!

[autisticlalna]

you’re a ticking time bomb

LADS.......... IT’S HERE.

this is pretty long but i couldnt really find a place to split it up into chapters so,,, sorry bout that! also i recommend listening to “time bomb” for the second fight scene bc woooOOOOO

this is a sequel to “fences” and also has a lot of references to “power surge”! and also is like 1/2 fight scenes so that’s certainly an experience

Jigsaw finally gets what’s coming to him. it’s not fun for anyone involved.

previous fics with shadoc: how to kill a shadow / power surge / detonator (part 1 / part 2) / false disposition / jump over fences and cut up our knees

CONTENT WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, Jigsaw being especially awful, descriptions of injury/violence, temporary character death, impalement, a pretty awful way to die

-

    Being in the shopping district was always a bit of a risk for Shadoc. He’d avoided it like the plague the first time he’d been able to roam free, and his instinct was still to stay as far away from it as possible; even without going near Cherry Computers, there was still the Hermit Rail Network terminal and various other shops and buildings outfitted with redstone that he had to give a wide berth to.

    Originally, it had been because of his… well, phobia wasn’t exactly the right word, but he wasn’t sure what was. Now, after Sahara, it was so he didn’t risk demolishing anything else.

    But… he’d heard Cleo complaining about needing something from the shopping district, but still being too disoriented from being cured of her zombie-ness to leave her ship just yet. Her crew practically had her under house arrest, just… with a boat instead of a house. Boat arrest? Cleo was under boat arrest. And, hey, Shadoc was running errands for Keralis and Bdubs a lot anyway, the least he could do was help Cleo out considering she was kind enough to give him a place to stay.

Cleo hadn’t been too happy about the idea, but her own shadow’s main method of helping was to make a mess of things and sit by all innocent while her summoner was forced to put back the armor stands or whatever else Phas had made her target. So, with her crew being focused on keeping her safe and healthy (and reminding her that humans weren’t exactly as durable as zombies), that left Shadoc as the only option. He promised he’d be back soon, that it wasn’t like any of the nighttime monsters could or would hurt him anyway, and that he’d be as careful as possible.

    He knew and understood why she was worried, though. The Sahara incident was still fresh in everyone’s minds— he still hadn’t told any of the hermits besides his own summoner about his power, but the reason Cleo had “adopted” him in the first place was because of Mumbo reaching out to her after he’d fled the scene; as a result, she was just as cautious as Doc when it came to the topic of exposing him to redstone in any context. That wasn’t the only reason for her to object to the idea, though.

    Cleo was worried because the last time Shadoc had been out on his own, he’d died.

    Only two things could kill a shadow: their summoner, and another shadow. Doc had sworn off the first one. Most of the other shadows left him alone or pitied him. Murmur had dedicated himself to protecting him just as fiercely as he protected Mumbo, and all of the hermits knew to either give him space or to keep an eye on him depending on the situation. With all of these factors, the risk of Shadoc dying should’ve been at an absolute minimum…  

    ...but he’d messed up. Acted without thinking. Threw himself at the other shadow without even considering the fact that even if he had more raw physical strength, he was still no match for an enchanted sword— 

    Ah. Shadoc blinked as he became aware of his surroundings again. This wasn’t the first time he’d dissociated only to realize he’d wandered off course, especially during an errand; usually he walked into a tree, or something equally silly, but most of the time he came to before anything happened. Normally this would be where he would shrug, get himself back on course, and apologise to Cleo for taking so long.

    Instead, he was standing in front of Sahara.

    The massive building was almost fully repaired, or at least on the outside; Shadoc hadn’t been near it since the incident, and he knew for a fact that there was no way he’d be able to take a single step inside without panic overwhelming him. Not even because of redstone, this time— instead he kept finding himself thinking about seeing Mumbo and Iskall and Murmur afraid of for him, about Iskall’s injury, about the Architechs forgiving him because he’d been too much of a coward to tell them that he’d caused it, about— 

    The shulker box Cleo had given him felt heavy in his arms all of a sudden. Shadoc set it down with a loud thump that broke the silence of the night, then after a moment he sat down on it and stared up at the building with a blank expression. He’d promised Doc that, if he ever had another… episode… he would tell the Architechs the truth, or else Doc would do it for him. All of the hermits (especially Mumbo) were far more cautious about his safety now, though, and Cleo had dedicated herself to teaching Shadoc several ways to manage his rising panic whenever he felt like he was in danger; the breathing exercises were a bit silly in concept, considering he didn’t need to breathe, but he found the repetitive counting reassuring when he was at the brink.

    “One, two, three, four,” Shadoc said under his breath. Breathe in— one, two, three, four. Hold— one, two, three, four. Breathe out— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Wait— one, two, three, four. “One, two, three, four…”

    “Oh hey! It’s you.”

    Shadoc snapped to attention. There, sitting on the roof, legs crossed, was none other than Grian’s shadow. His eyes widened in shock as Jigsaw giggled; the jumper-wearing shadow dangled his legs over the edge and kicked them aimlessly as he looked down at the other from his vantage point. “So Doc did resummon you! Interesting~” He held a hand up to hide his mouth as he giggled. “I wonder how he felt when Murmur told him you died? Guilty, I bet~”

    Fear and guilt stabbed through Shadoc like the sword Jigsaw had used during their last meeting. His hand went to his side, half-expecting to still feel the wound there; Jigsaw laughed, sounding genuinely pleased at his reaction. “It’s such a shame you died so fast! Murmur was crying so hard, he thought you were gone forever~ Some hero you are!” He tsked. “I just wanted to make him feel bad, wasn’t even going to hurt him too much… and here comes Good Guy Shadoc, thinking he can make a big scene! That punch hurt.” Shadoc couldn’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride as Jigsaw rubbed his cheek where his punch had connected.

    Jigsaw leaned backwards and vanished into the flat surface of the roof. Shadoc tensed as he saw the silhouette swing down from his perch; Jigsaw’s eyes opened, shining gold against flat black, then the shadow re-emerged like he was strolling through a doorway. “Here’s the problem with good guys, though.” Jigsaw smirked. “The only thing they’re good for is being targets.”

    “Are you just here to talk at me?” Shadoc asked. His voice was surprisingly steady; quietly, he was grateful for that— he didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want to give Jigsaw any opening to dig into him further. Were any of the hermits nearby? He didn’t have whatever skill allowed Apex to track down players and shadows alike, but he didn’t need it to know that the shopping district was barren at this time of night. No one was around to help— but it wasn’t like anyone but Grian would be able to do anything to Jigsaw.

    It was just the two of them.

    “I’m just saying,” Jigsaw said in a casual tone, “you made everything worse for your dear ol’ friend by getting involved. I would’ve just played with him a little, then left him alone— but then you showed up.” His smirk dropped into a dangerous scowl. “You made a mess of everything! Everyone always feels like they can just walk up and spoil my games! It sucks.” Another mood switch, this time to murderous glee: “But then I realized: Murmur likes you! Murmur likes you a lot. So if you wanted to be part of my game, well…” 

    In the darkness of the dead of night, Jigsaw’s golden eyes shined bright. Shadoc froze as they pierced into him; Jigsaw’s words echoed in his ears, overwhelming everything, dragging him down— 

    “…It wasn’t like I could stop you! And it was so fun seeing Murmur break into itty bitty pieces~”

[ Shadoc didn’t know what to do.

Ever since Mumbo had been rescued from being kidnapped by Jigsaw, the redstone enthusiast’s shadow had been beyond stressed. It was hard for even the other hermits to get near him; at even the slightest indication of a threat, Murmur would get defensive and, if they didn’t back off, aggressive. Grian especially had been sent packing with a few bruises before he started to take Murmur’s warnings seriously. The friendliest shadow on the server had taken a hard turn into being one of the most aggressive.

Murmur had never lashed out at Shadoc, though. He’d gotten close, but that was about it— just a sharp glare, a static hiss, and then immediately horrified and apologetic once he’d recognized him. Shadoc had felt something deep inside him hurt at that. Not because of Murmur— he’d made that clear, had told his closest friend over and over that that hadn’t changed, that he understood, that he was here if Murmur needed him— but because of why Murmur felt like he had to act like a guard dog in the first place. Because of why the normally peaceful shadow was unable to trust anyone anymore.

Shadoc hadn’t been there. Everything he knew about the situation was second-hand from Murmur, from Grian, from Iskall, from Scar, and eventually from Mumbo himself: Grian’s shadow had kidnapped Mumbo, shoved him in a crate in one of Scar’s minigames, and spent the entire time tormenting and torturing him. Mumbo had confessed, eyes starting to look a little wet (and Shadoc had no idea how to react to that, how to react to any of this), that Jigsaw had told him Murmur wasn’t ever going to rescue him. That he’d been abandoned, alone, with only Jigsaw for horrible company.

When Murmur vanished for longer than a few minutes, despite being inseparable from his summoner in every other circumstance, both Mumbo and Shadoc got worried.

“Murmur?” Shadoc called out. This was an area of the server he was unfamiliar with; Mumbo had been out here for some reason or another, he hadn’t really been listening, and then Murmur had just… disappeared. Doing his best to not fear the worst, Shadoc had joined the search the instant the option was even presented; he hated the thought of Murmur getting hurt, even though the most likely option was that the shadow had just gotten lost somehow.

Voices from up ahead. No— a single voice, familiar, that made Shadoc pause. Grian? But— no, Grian was back at his base, because as much as he wanted to help he didn’t want to risk running afoul of Murmur when the shadow still held a grudge. So it couldn’t be Grian, but… 

The only other option made Shadoc’s heart drop. No. No no no no no.

“...so useless,” Grian’s shadow said with a catlike smile on his face as he stood just out of Murmur’s reach. “You’re a pretty awful “guardian angel”, you do know that, right? He was screaming and begging and crying for help the whole time, and you never even heard him!” His laugh was sickening. “He’d be better off without you, really~”

“No,” Murmur hissed, voice underlaid with static. No, not just that— the other shadow sounded distraught, like he was choking back tears. Shadoc sank into the shadows cast across the ground and sneaked closer, peeking out from the flat shadow so only his eyes were visible, as the scene unfolded in front of him: Murmur shaking with either rage or fear, Jigsaw rocking back on his heels like a bored child, no one else around for chunks except for them and Shadoc. Static crackled like a broken radio as Murmur tried to speak, tried to say anything to refute Jigsaw’s claims; Shadoc saw him shakily sign you’re wrong only for Jigsaw to erupt into raucous laughter.

It reverberated through the area, getting louder and louder as it echoed; Shadoc covered his ears, but it still broke through until, finally, it stopped. Jigsaw wiped tears from his eyes. “THAT’S your rebuttal? Really? Of course you can’t think of anything better, though— you know I’m right. You know you’re a failure—”

Something in Shadoc snapped.

His creeper-like hiss of warning escalated into a full-out roar as he launched himself at Jigsaw. The spiral-marked shadow turned to face him, expression turning from taunting glee to confusion, as he drew his mechanical arm back, fingers closing into a fist; Jigsaw opened his mouth, barely got out a “What—” before Shadoc’s fist collided with his face with as much power put behind it as he could manage.

Murmur gasped in shock as Jigsaw was knocked down to the ground. The shorter shadow blinked, dazed, as he tried to collect himself; Jigsaw was again given no time to react, though, before Shadoc grabbed him roughly by the jumper and hauled him upright to snarl in his face. Shadoc grinned— a full-on grin, showing sharp teeth— at the look of startled terror on Grian’s shadow’s face. The part of him not completely overrun with rage went wait, what are we doing, but was drowned out as he lifted Jigsaw up off the ground and then slammed him back down.

Jigsaw desperately tried to escape; his outline blurred as he tried to go flat into the shadows, but with Shadoc’s tight grip on his clothes he wasn’t able to fully submerge before the enraged shadow yanked him back out and threw him aside. Shadoc was faintly aware of Murmur, of static buzzing around him, of Mumbo’s shadow trying to sign something at him, but he turned his back on him to instead growl at Jigsaw.

“Don’t you ever,” he said, voice crackling with static as a low hum resonated around him, resonated through him, “talk to Murmur again.”

Jigsaw looked up at him, face still frozen in shock. As Shadoc stared him down, he started giggling, nervous and afraid… then it kept going, getting louder, as that awful smile worked its way back onto his face. “I see, I see!” He got to his feet with some difficulty; the side of his face was bruising a sickly yellow, and Shadoc noted with some satisfaction that he seemed unsteady on his feet. “You think you’re a knight in shining armor! Well then… “

Jigsaw grinned. “Let’s play.”

He drew his sword.

Shadoc charged.

The first sword strike knocked him off balance. Pain split through him; Shadoc cried out as the next strike came down, then the next, then    ]

    When he came to, Shadoc was standing up, fists clenched, giving Jigsaw the most intense glare he could manage. Phantom pains stung across him, echoing the wounds Jigsaw had given him; the worst one was along his left side, burning hot, and he could vividly remember his form falling apart, bright yellow spilling out like light leaking through a cracked door— 

    “What’s the matter?” Jigsaw tilted his head. “Did I hit a button I shouldn’t have~?” His self-satisfied smirk sparked something inside Shadoc. His fingers twitched, desperately wanting to strike— no. No, that was what Jigsaw wanted. Jigsaw wanted him to snap, wanted him to break, wanted to be able to hold it over his head. He couldn’t lose control like that again. He… he just couldn’t.

    That rage had been unlike anything Shadoc had ever experienced. Most of the hermits saw him as timid and afraid: barely a threat to anyone, just wanting to be left alone, flinching at sudden noises or movement. Even when he’d recovered enough that he didn’t need Stress keeping constant watch over him anymore, that image still persisted. Underneath all of that, though, was a messy cavalcade of emotions that he didn’t dare to acknowledge or attempt to rationalize.

    He’d felt anger before. …Most of it was at Doc. The logical part of him knew that it wasn’t like the hermits had a manual on what to expect from the shadow mobs, knew that Doc regretted it, and— especially now— knew that he wanted to make amends. The irrational part of him was a hurricane. He was afraid of Doc hurting him, angry at Doc for hurting him, felt sad for Doc, felt worried for Doc, all of it mixing together into a tangled-up ball of cords he couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of.

    The sheer fury Jigsaw ignited in him wasn’t like any of that. It was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. It was something that, if he let it loose again, Shadoc was afraid would do more harm than good. It was something that, if he let it loose again, Shadoc was afraid he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

    The thing that would’ve made the most sense for him to do was for him to pick up the shulker box, turn his back on Jigsaw, and go home. Shadoc knew that wasn’t an option. Not because “running away is dishonourable” or whatever, just… well, he traveled slower while carrying something he hadn’t been summoned with, wasn’t able to do the “disappearing into the shadows” trick, and he wasn’t about to leave behind the reason he’d come out all the way. Especially not with the unspoken threat of Jigsaw making sure he and Cleo never got the box and its contents back. But, at the same time, being face-to-face with him kept sending him into loops he couldn’t break out of: thinking about Murmur, thinking about Mumbo, thinking about Iskall, thinking about

    “One,” Shadoc whispered, “two, three, four…” Focus. Shut everything out. Hold steady. “One, two, three, four…” Don’t lose control. Stay grounded. Don’t lose control. “One, two, three, four...“

    Jigsaw tilted his head like a confused puppy. It was a gesture that would be rather cute on Grian, but like everything his shadow did it had a darker vibe behind it. “Uh, hello? Shadoc? What are you doing?” No response asides from quiet repetition. Shadoc closed his eyes, drawing all of his awareness in on himself, in on the rhythm, anything to try and stifle the coming storm. When the creeper shadow didn’t acknowledge him, Jigsaw crossed his arms and huffed. “I said, what are you doing?”

    One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four.

    Jigsaw’s pout deepened into a scowl. “Are you ignoring me? Really?” Shadoc tensed up as he heard the tell-tale sound of a sword being drawn; Jigsaw twirled the weapon lazily, looking at himself in the reflection of the blade, then glanced at Shadoc to check his reaction. There— he was tensed up again, voice shaking a little, still keeping up the count but clearly on edge. Jigsaw tapped the tip of the sword against the ground and took a step closer.

    “I think I get it now~” Jigsaw hummed. “You think you’re the next Killjoy, huh, don’t you? Mark, two, three, four—” Intentionally out of sync with Shadoc’s own count, intentionally disrupting, “—but if you think you can scare me… you’re not doing a good job.”

    One, two, three, four.

    “—so he beat up Apex or whatever, who cares? You’re not him, that’s for sure. You’re just some wreck everybody took pity on! Even though you’re really more trouble than you’re worth…“ Jigsaw drummed his fingers against his thigh, waited for a rebuttal; when none came, he narrowed his eyes, scanning Shadoc’s expression for any indication of weakness or even any sign that he’d heard him at all. “…you’re still not listening to me, are you.” 

    Shadoc lowered his head. “Please go away,” he whispered. The count continued in his head, constant, drowning out everything else. He just had to keep focusing on that, had to keep shutting everything out, and then Jigsaw would get bored and leave, or he’d calm down enough to think of some way to get away without the other shadow trying to chase him and trip him up. He didn’t want to have to deal with this. He didn’t want to have to deal with Jigsaw trying to rile him up, didn’t want to have to deal with that messy nonsense of incoherent feelings, didn’t want to have to deal with the rising tension that was resisting his every attempt to shove it back down.

    “Please go away,” Jigsaw echoed in a mocking tone. “We both know you can’t make me do anything~ It’s actually pretty pathetic!” He switched poses so that the sword was point-down in front of him, tip digging into the ground, both hands resting on the pommel, and leaned forward on it like it was a rather lethal cane. Shadoc could feel his eyes piercing into him as he started the count back up, hoping that the sound of his own voice would override Jigsaw’s comments. “You’re just a coward.” He stopped. Shadoc didn’t see the smile start to creep onto the other shadow’s face.

    One, two, three, four.

    “You know,” Jigsaw said, voice cheerful as always, “Iskall still doesn’t know it was you.”

    What?

    Jigsaw muffled a snort of laughter at the momentary flicker of worry on Shadoc’s face. “Him and Mumbo are so worried that Sahara’s gonna break again! They think it’s their fault. Especially Mumbo!” He slipped into an impression of the hermit: “I can’t believe I let Iskall get hurt like that! And Doc’s shadow, too… I’m such an idiot.” This time he didn’t bother trying to hide his giggling. “He’s devastated! Iskall’s not so sure, he doesn’t think it should be possible for even Sahara’s redstone to overload like that, but Mumbo keeps blaming himself…”

    Jigsaw’s voice took on a sly tone. “But you know the truth, don’t you, Detonator?”

    One, two, three, four… One… One, two… two… 

    The drifting particles dusting the air around the two of them started to flicker. Shadoc gritted his teeth, showing off glowing fangs, and clenched his fists hard enough to hurt. Jigsaw gave him a curious look as the small triangles surrounding Shadoc glitched in and out, swept about in an invisible wind. Shadoc dug his heels in against the overwhelming force of the wildfire, of the storm, of the hurricane; he couldn’t let Jigsaw get the better of him, couldn’t let himself slip, even if he totally had it coming, even if it was getting harder to think, even if

    “—You’re dangerous,” Jigsaw said. “That’s what you don’t want the hermits to know, isn’t it? You want them to keep thinking you’re the cute, pathetic coward that could never hurt anyone, because if they knew the truth they’d get rid of you. Is that it?”

    One… One, two… One… three, four… 

    Skipping beats. Losing rhythm. Shadoc could feel it— it was different from when he panicked, different from Area 77, different from Sahara, different from the village. The barely-audible hum resonated through him, filling his ears, mixed in with static, as he got closer and closer to an overload.

    “But you’re just so useless! You want to be the good guy, want to help people, but all you do is panic and hurt them. You’re no help to anyone!” Jigsaw sneered. “They’ll say they understand, say they care about you, but do you know what they’ll really think of you? Do you know how good ol’ Doc feels about you? Do you know what was going through his head after Sahara~? Do you know what he sees when he looks at you?”

    One… Two… One… One… 

    Jigsaw’s grin widened, malice shining in his golden eyes.

    “You’re a ticking time bomb.”

    “One,” Shadoc forced out. His voice cracked, overlaid with the static buzzing through him; tiny sparks flickered among his fingers, in the air around him, the humming getting louder, the ground unsteady under his feet, “O-One— One— One—“ 

“You can’t protect anybody. You certainly couldn’t protect Murmur~”

    Shadoc’s voice faltered, numbers dying out, mouth moving wordlessly. Memories rattled around inside him: Murmur reassuring him, Murmur cornered by Jigsaw, Shadoc screaming, Murmur screaming, Jigsaw’s sword, everything blurring together.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if Murmur had been standing where Iskall was?”

    Couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Skipping beats, skipping rhythm, everything drowned out by Jigsaw, by himself, by— 

    “I wonder,” the other shadow said, “if you would’ve killed him.”

    This time, Shadoc didn’t give him the liberty of a warning hiss. The creeper shadow lunged; Jigsaw’s eyes widened, expression turning from taunting glee to genuine fear, as he drew his mechanical arm back, already clenched into a fist, and slammed it into Jigsaw’s face with as much force as he could put behind it.

    The upside of death was that Shadoc was stronger than he had been the last time they met. His punch had enough force to actually knock Grian’s shadow off his feet and send him flying back a short distance before collapsing to the ground; Jigsaw hissed in pain, holding a hand to his face, then struggled to his feet as Shadoc closed the distance.

“Oh, so we’re doing this now?” Jigsaw ducked under the next punch that came his way; Shadoc stumbled a little as the other shadow dove into the ground, giving Jigsaw enough time to retrieve his sword and twirl it as the creeper shadow rounded on him. “Haven’t you learned from last time?” Pain exploded through Shadoc as the sword swung into his side; moving quickly to dodge his attempts at retaliation, Jigsaw practically danced around him as he nicked him lightly with the blade. If Shadoc was so keen on making history repeat, may as well play along. “You know, normally I don’t do repeat performances~”

    Shadoc’s vision blurred. The world around him shifted and started to fade as he was overcome with sudden vertigo. No. No, he was not going to let Jigsaw kill him again. The pain was blinding, but it suddenly felt insignificant in the face of everything. Even as the colour started to fade from the edges of his vision, he snarled and lashed out as the sword came down again; Jigsaw gasped in pain as he grabbed him by the wrist, the claws on his mechanical hand digging into him as he tightened his grip. Shadoc’s touch burned white-hot, searing through him, overriding everything, as a glitchy static hum filled his head, resonated through him.

    Jigsaw raised a leg and slammed his foot down on Shadoc’s knee; he grunted, loosening his hold just enough for Jigsaw to rip himself away. This time, Jigsaw wasn’t in the mood to play around. The sword cut a glowing yellow line along Shadoc’s chest; Jigsaw drew back, ready to drive the sword in deep, as Shadoc slumped down, only to get caught off guard as he launched up at him and tackled him to the ground.

White noise filled Jigsaw’s head as Shadoc pinned him. The sword clattered out of his hands as blow after blow came raining down; Jigsaw struggled feebly, trying to shove him off, then slipped away into the shadows as Shadoc’s first impacted the ground hard enough to crack it. Shadoc’s eyes snapped to the shape racing along the ground, jumping from dark spot to dark spot, trying to put as much distance between him and Shadoc as possible. He wasn’t going to let Jigsaw get away.

    Jigsaw screamed as he was ripped out back into three dimensions. Shadoc slammed him into a wall as hard as he could in one fluid motion; stars danced in Jigsaw’s vision as things went blank for the smallest of moments, only for Shadoc to toss him aside like a ragdoll before he could recover. He tumbled and lay still as he tried to pull himself back together. Jigsaw needed to find an escape, needed to run, but everything really, really hurt. His fingers twitched and he rolled over off his back, then pushed himself up on one elbow and looked up at the shape looming over him.

    The pain was starting to overwhelm Shadoc. Yellow wounds, both minor and major, broke up the flat black; the only thing keeping him standing was the sheer driving anger burning him alive from the inside out. If he was a time bomb, then Jigsaw had lit the fuse and was now forced to watch the ceaseless explosion. The little voice in the back of his head that had tried to snap him out of it before was gone now. No— it was like his mind was completely blank, like there was nothing there but raw emotion. He was past being reasoned with, past being able to come back from the edge, past doing anything but fighting until the fire burnt out.

    His jaw cracked, opening wider than it should be able to, showing teeth that were far sharper than they had any reason to be, nearly splitting his face open like he was an enderman, and Shadoc roared. It ripped its way out of him, echoing, warping into static, impossibly loud, overwhelming all of Jigsaw’s senses. The other shadow was too dazed to do anything, not even able to cover his ears, as Shadoc screamed until his voice gave out.

    Shadoc could’ve just left then. Jigsaw was beaten, broken, and certainly not able to stop him from picking up the shulker box and heading back to Cleo’s ship. He’d made his point. 

    But he wasn’t done.

    He barely registered the first few drops that announced the beginning of the storm. Like it was second nature, Shadoc held his hand up over his head; the trident— the trident Doc had given him, the apology, the thing Doc had hoped would help prevent Shadoc from getting killed again— appeared in his hand, feeling like an extension of him as his fingers tightened around the handle.

    Thunder boomed, filling the void left behind by Shadoc’s scream. Jigsaw flinched, but Shadoc stood steady even as another crack of lightning split the sky. Staring down at Jigsaw the entire time, Shadoc twirled the trident a couple of times and then held it so that it was pointing up at the sky. Jigsaw feebly struggled, trying both to get up and to hide in the ground, like he couldn’t decide what was the best option for him, as the rain poured down harder. The badly injured shadow let out a tiny, frightened laugh. “...I’m in danger.”

    Lightning crashed down, wrapping around the trident, almost blinding. Shadoc gritted his teeth as he felt it rush through him; Jigsaw scrambled away as fast as he could at the sight, as it sank in what was about to happen next. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge as Shadoc stabbed the trident into him. Shadoc ignored his shriek of pain; Jigsaw grabbed the trident by the prongs, trying desperately to remove it, only for the other shadow to grab the handle by both hands and drive it in deeper, pinning him to the ground.

    Shadoc’s vision flared white as lightning struck the trident. Jigsaw screamed as it burned through him; Shadoc himself had to struggle to ignore the pain as the electricity raced up his arms from where he was gripping the trident, but he planted his feet and held the weapon secure even as Jigsaw thrashed frantically.

    Lightning struck again. And again. Repeated, screaming, everything hurting— Shadoc channeled all of his pain, all of his anger, all of his thoughts about Murmur and Iskall and Mumbo and Jigsaw and Doc and everything into the storm, into the trident, even as he was sure he was about to kill himself. He fell to his knees, still clinging onto the trident, still willing the storm to continue, until Jigsaw’s screams cut off abruptly.

Barely conscious, Shadoc registered as if from a million miles away that Jigsaw was dead. He slumped over, his grip on his trident loosening, as it sank in. Glowing yellow cracks ran up his arms, bits of his shadowy exterior chipped away, in patterns mimicking the lightning; he stared down at them, vacant, until all of the pain finally caught up to him and he collapsed.

[golden-states]

At this time tomorrow there is an 88% chance I will be panicking lmfao