alright, what the f u c c (gold watchers x genderless!reader)

CH. 20 - The End

The next day, Malak was back. An assistant appeared through one of his portals, sent by his secretary as promised. Chauncey spoke briefly with him, before entering the portal. He didn't return until a few hours later, looking deep in thought. His eyebrows were knitted together, and he had a small frown on his face, which was unusual for him.

The rest of the Gold Watchers were in the living room. They had been waiting for him, nervous and ready for anything. They sat on the couch, unsure of what to do. With the current atmosphere, it seemed like the entire level was holding its breath, making any action seem inappropriate. When he entered the room, Micheal immediately stood up and strode over to him.

"What's the news, Chaunce?" He didn't show it on his face, but rather in his fidgety demeanor. The perplexed look wasn't a good sign.

"Malak returned, but he seemed..." Chauncey paused. 'Awkward? Sad? Directionless?' "He seemed different. He didn't speak of it, but something was off about him. The meeting was really short too. He told me that Bierce was gone, and that we were to just-"

"Wait," Felix interjected from across the room. "But you were gone for hours, Chauncey! Why'd you take so long to return if it was such a short meeting?"

"Long wait time." He shrugged. "Malak had a lot of meetings with a lot of people. Anyways, he told us to just do whatever! Like, what does that even mean, Micheal??"

Now Micheal looked confused too. "I'm not sure Chauncey-"

"We've spent probably more than a millennium protecting the ring pieces from Bierce, spent our entire existence fighting something or someone, and now we're just supposed to sit here? I mean-" He sighed in disbelief. "We were trained for this one job, to listen to and follow his every command. How are we supposed to do anything else without his direction?"

The question hung heavy in the air as everyone contemplated.

Finally, Micheal broke the demanding silence.

"Usually in temporary moments of peace, we do manage other simple tasks and hobbies to pass the time... maybe we could emulate that? We could think of it as a really long break."

"Hmm. I guess you're right. It's better than wallowing in helplessness all day."

"Chauncey, did Malak tell you what happened to Bierce?" Y/n spoke up. "It seems weird that he would say only that with no context or explanation."

"No, he didn't, but then again I didn't ask. I should do that next time we meet." He looked at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late. I'm going to turn in for the night. Maybe we'll discuss more tomorrow." He walked down the corridor to his room, calling "goodnight" over his shoulder.

They all dispersed, tending to their own affairs till they too, went to bed.

Malak sat at his desk in the middle of the night, hands clasped together and resting on his forehead. His eyes were narrowed, almost closed due to his fatigue. He had stayed in his office hours after all the meetings were finished. He told himself it was to catch up on paperwork and other missed memos, but he hadn't done a single damn thing up til now. He cursed himself over and over again in his head, a strand of the thousands of thoughts running through his tired mind, making them very incoherent.

'Do I miss Bierce? No no, I can't. I don't. Do I miss the rivalry between us? Do I miss the fights? The banter? The winning and losing? Why don't I feel the triumph I thought I would when I won? I feel alone. Am I lonely? Was Bierce the only one who truly understood me? Do I understand me?'

"Urgh, what am I even saying?" He murmured. He had lied to every single being that had walked into his office. They couldn't know the truth, lest they think he was crazy, which he was. He would be kicked from his leadership role into.... Nothing. He couldn't even trust himself. Part of him wanted to free Bierce so they could get back into it. But the sensible part of him knew that this was the last thing he needed. He might as well lock himself in a one-way dimension. Hopefully this would pass. He had other enemies to worry about, and other plans to set in motion. There was no time to waste. He needed to prepare, or he'd never make it. Either he burn in a hell of his own making, or he use that hell to incinerate his enemies.

Of course, he could never tell another living soul what dangerous thoughts he was having. Nope. This was something he'd take to his grave, wherever that grave lies.

And true to his word, nobody ever found out.