Chapter Text
Two Time gasped, agony smashing in like a powerful wave on a ship, leaving their body hurting. They weren't sure where they were or even how long it had been, but it felt like an eternity. Everything was dark, with nothing to feel but their own ragged gasps and piercing anguish.
Has it been minutes, hours, days, or even years?
They didn't know.
And they preferred not to know.
It hurt to even think about anything other than their discomfort.
What had they done wrong? Why was the Spawn punishing them like this?
Two Time had believed—truly believed—their gift would please the Spawn. Amarah had promised it would. So why? Why were they being tormented like this?
Had the ceremony failed? Did they miss something, some crucial step? Was the offering not enough or worse, had they ruined it?
Was it their fault?
The thought struck like a blade, sharp and sudden, and tears welled in their eyes.
What was wrong with them?
Why did no one ever stay? Why did no one ever love them? Not even their god did.
The Spawn was supposed to love everyone, the lost, the evil, even the heretics. It was a kind, gentle god. That’s what they’d been told, what they believed, what they had clung to like a lifeline.
So, if even the Spawn had turned away from them, if even their god showed them no care, no warmth, no notice…
It could mean only one thing.
They were unlovable.
A creature so wretched, so pitiful, so foul that even the god they had given everything to—had bled for—wanted nothing to do with them.
What did that say about who they were?
Why?
Why were they born at all?
Pain gnawed at the edges of their mind, something stirred in the wreckage of Two Time’s thoughts.
A memory.
Small.
Bright.
The church garden.
They were young, knees scraped, faces blotchy from tears. They had failed again— fumbled the offering bowl, spilled the sacred water, and ruined the simple task Amarah had trusted them with.
Their chest had felt like it might collapse under the weight of their shame.
But then— fingers on their chin, lifting their face.
Warm hands. The voice of their teacher.
"It's fine, little one. When the rain is too heavy, even the earth stumbles."
Two Time had blinked up at Amarah, confused. Expecting anger. Punishment. But his eyes, just for that moment, were kind, not sharp, not measuring. Just… kind.
He had smoothed their hair back and wiped the dirt from their cheeks. He even smiled, not the polite, distant smile he gave the others, but a smile reserved just for them.
“Next time,” he murmured, “you’ll remember. You’re still learning after all.”
And at that fragile moment, Two Time had believed they were seen. They believed their presence was wanted.
They clung to that memory now, fists trembling in the dark. The pain, the isolation, the doubts— all of it crashed against that tiny, flickering light.
But even as they grasped for it, the edges frayed.
Had Amarah been kind because he cared…
Or because he wanted them to stay in line?
Was it love, or just another way to push them forward toward salvation they were never meant to reach?
The kindness twisted in their mind, filling them with longing and dread in equal measure.
Why did they believe it?
Why did they think they mattered?
“You’re upset. I can help with that…”
Two Time shuddered, tears sliding down their cheeks. The warmth they had once known, the one moment they’d cherished, felt like it was slipping away, devoured by doubt, swallowed by the dark.
…Wait.
Two Time’s eyes snapped open.
When had they even closed?
They shook their head, disoriented, a thin tremor running through them. But there was no time to unravel that. There was a far more urgent question now:
Whose voice was that?
And how were they here?
It felt… strange. The voice wasn’t coming from any one place. It was everywhere and nowhere all at once, curling around them.
“Do you want to know who I am?” The voice whispered soft against their aching head.
“You will, in a moment. Please, just wait.”
“W…wait…?” Two Time rasped, the word fragile and broken from a throat that hadn’t been used in too long.
Still, the voice answered.
“Yes. In fact… it’s starting right now.”
Without warning, fire ignited under their skin.
Two Time’s body seized, every nerve blazing with agony. Their hands clawed uselessly at the air, desperate to find something—anything—solid to grasp. Their legs refused to move, locked in place. Their chest tightened, squeezed by an invisible weight, each breath coming faster, sharper, more panicked.
Their mouth opened for a scream, but only a thin, ragged rasp slipped out.
The world spun, slow and suffocating, until—White light.
A blinding light tore through their vision, stabbing behind their eyes like knives, like needles, like pure, piercing pain.
And then…
Nothing.
The next time they awoke, they knew they were somewhere else—even before they opened their eyes.
They felt it.
The damp caress of soft grass beneath their fingers, cool and wet against tingling skin. The sharp, earthy scent of rain still lingered in the air, mingled with the faint, metallic tang of ozone.
“W-wha…?” Two Time blinked, stunned, too shocked to form anything more.
They were free…
They could feel. They could see. They could hear sounds around them—the rustle of leaves, the hush of wind, the distant drip of water.
They were actually free.
‘You’re awake.’
Two Time jerked upright, heart leaping as they whipped their head around. The voice. The same voice from that awful and lonely place. But now it was clearer, less distorted, smooth.
It was easier to understand.
Their voice cracked as they forced out words, raw and painful: “Y-you… a-again. W-who…?”
“I am the Spectator, however, most call me the Spectre. I dragged you from the pit of your torment… but saving you was only the beginning of what I can give.”
Two Time’s head tilted, confusion flickering in their wide, searching eyes.
“You gave your life for your faith… for a deity who watched you break and bleed and did nothing. Who left you to rot in the dark. Who abandoned you without a second glance.”
They flinched at the words.
“But you can win back its love. Its gaze. It’s favor. All you need to do is what I ask.”
Two Time slowly pushed themself upright, trembling with fragile hope. The voice knew. It knew the way back!
A way to be worthy again, to be seen, to be loved.
“Kill.”
Their breath hitched.
What…?
“There are people you can offer— sacrifices for your deity. And you can give them again… and again… and again.” The voice curved into a whisper, a cruel caress in their mind. “What do you say? Don’t you want your Spawn to love you again?”
Two Time’s mouth opened, but no sound came. Their chest clenched, disbelief choking the air from their lungs as they stared into the emptiness above.
“It will be a beautiful gifts. One the Spawn cannot ignore.”
“You want to be loved again, don’t you? You want to stop being the thing even a god left behind.’”
They did. Two Time really did, but…
Kill?
The Spawn was a god of rebirth, of care, of transformation. Only those prepared, those ready for the next life, were taken into its arms. If they killed without meaning, without mercy, if they slaughtered just to be noticed, wouldn’t they become no better than the type of Robloxians the Spawn loathed?
Wouldn’t the Spawn… Be disgusted or maybe even angry.
Their hands dug into the wet grass, fingers shaking. And for the first time since waking, a chill bloomed in their chest.
They had already failed the Spawn once, with their terrible, unworthy offering. To slaughter Robloxians not yet marked for rebirth… the Spawn would surely turn its gaze away in fury.
No.
Two Time gave a hard, trembling shake of the head. They couldn’t risk it. It was too risky, and the price was too high.
“No?” The Spectre’s voice hummed softly in their mind.
There was something almost happy in the tone. As if it had wanted them to refuse.
“After all I’ve done for you? You refuse the chance to make your Spawn proud?”
“You’d rather risk being unloved forever?”
Then the voice turns colder.
‘You’ve always been so good at disappointing those who cared for you. Haven’t you?’”
Two Time eyes widened at the words.
“No matter. In the end… you don’t have a choice.”
Pain that was suppressed suddenly resurfaced.
A raw, choked groan tore from Two Time’s throat as they collapsed inward, curling into a tight, trembling ball. The air filled with the sound of bone creaking, splintering, reshaping. Their spine arched as their back bulged unnaturally until, with a sickening wet crack, bone burst through flesh, unfurling into jagged, skeletal wings.
Clawed fingers tore at the ground as liquid bubbled in their throat, spilling from parted lips, running down their chin.
Their tail split, lengthening, writhing as it divided into three serpentine coils. Tears blurred their vision, scorching trails down their cheeks, their body felt like it was burning.
And through it all, the Spectre’s presence lingered.
Watching.
Savoring.
“Still not giving in, I see.”
The pain twisted tighter in Two Time's skull, each pulse of agony sharp enough to split their mind in two. Blood began to pour from their head, warm and sticky, drenching their skin as their body wracked with the violent surge. Several sets of wings erupted from their head, and animalistic ears pushed through their hair. As the wings unfurled, a cascade of feathers fell with maddening gentleness, forcefully covering their eyes, leaving them blind in an instant.
More liquid poured from their lips, thick and metallic.
It felt as though time stretched and pulled in every direction, the pain relentless, pulling at their very core. It seemed to last hours, though in truth, it was mere minutes before the agony started to die down, but it never truly left. Just simmering beneath the surface, pulsing with each tortured breath.
“Ughh…Kkh… wha...” Two Time whimpered, their voice barely a rasp, exhausted from whatever twisted transformation they were enduring.
“There you go. Now you're perfect.”
Tears mixed with the snot streaming down their face, and with trembling arms, Two Time wiped at them, a futile gesture. Desperate, they tried to push the wings away from their face, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Wha…Hwe…pp...nhgn.” Their words were strangled, thick with panic. The wings wouldn’t move. In a burst of raw frustration, they yanked at them, pulling with everything they had, but the feathers held fast, stubborn and unyielding.
Minutes ticked by before they gave up, realizing the wings would not leave, no matter how hard they yanked.
Two Time’s new tails slid across the floor, slick and strange, as they tried and failed to stand. Their legs felt like they might snap beneath them, weak from the transformation, but they pushed forward. They fell back down.
Fear crawled up their throat, thick and suffocating.
They couldn’t see.
They couldn’t speak.
…
“Hmm… Hrk!” A cough forced its way through, but it barely made a sound.
They needed to stand. They needed to be strong.
In a fit of desperation, Two Time heaved their body up again, lifting two of their new tails beneath them to give them balance. It was a struggle, but finally, they managed to rise on two shaky tails, swaying unsteadily.
They stumbled, disoriented, their body alien to them now. But after a few more steps, they found their balance.
“Mmrr... Azz....” The whimper left their lips weakly, their wings slack against their back, ears pulled back in worry. Two Time reached up with trembling arms and wrapped themself in a tight embrace, as though the warmth of their own body could comfort them, could hold the pain at bay.
Everything hurts… Everything hurts... The thought echoed in their mind, relentless, consuming. EverythinghurtsEverythinghurtsEverythinghurtsEverythinghurtsEverythinghurtsEverythinghurts
EVERYTHING HURT!
Two Time wanted it to stop. They wanted the pain to go away.
“Azzz…” They whispered the name, the ache in their chest more unbearable than the physical torment.
They wanted to be safe.
“Azz...rrr...” The words came out broken, and even as the agony gnawed at them, they knew what they wanted
They wanted to be held.
“Azzz...uu...r...eeee....” Their voice cracked.
They wanted Azure.