Sick Bird (Completed)

Scar

One moment, we were all at my place, just watching a movie, and then... everything shifted. Suddenly, I feel like I'm floating, drifting in a void. I'm asleep, but I can't wake up. Every time I try to open my eyes, all I see is blackness. It's as if I'm trapped in this endless darkness. I glance around and see Mumbo—he's sound asleep too. It all feels so strange, like a bizarre dream where nothing makes sense, and reality is slipping away. I didn’t think anything was off until—Mumbo woke up and started freaking out. He was flipping around, floating upside down, trying to find an exit, which confused the hell out of me.

He didn’t say anything, just locked eyes with me and hugged me. We could breathe in this weird space, and that’s what made it all feel so real—I took a breath.

“Mumbo? What’s going on?” I asked cautiously. My voice came out raw and scratchy, the dryness of my throat making it almost painful to speak. I had to swallow halfway through the question, trying to ease the discomfort, but it barely helped.

Mumbo just stared at me, then, out of nowhere, slapped me lightly, as if testing if I was real. I assumed he was trying to make sense of everything. He grabbed my face, his fingers pressing into my cheeks as he stretched them slightly, like he was checking if I’d snap back. Then, he floated back, looking more confused than ever.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and something—or someone—was gone. I blinked, still disoriented, trying to grasp what just happened. Then I noticed—Jelly was here a second ago, but now she’s gone. “Jelly?” I called out, my voice tinged with panic. The light vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving us back in the void. Mumbo held onto my arm, still silent. Why hasn’t he said anything?

“This is a protective space… Why did he feel the need to protect us? Scar, do you know what’s going on?” Mumbo’s voice was so quiet that I almost didn’t hear him, but when I looked at him, I could see the fear in his eyes—he was truly scared.

I started to notice tiny dots appearing in the blackness around us, almost like stars, twinkling faintly as we drifted. Slowly, we began to descend, and before we knew it, we landed on something solid. We both stumbled, not expecting to find anything beneath us. When I looked down, I saw that we were standing on what looked like moonlit grass, soft and glowing faintly in the darkness.

We were still in the protective space, but now we could stand. As I looked around, I noticed food and water laid out across the landscape, coming from some unknown source. The surrealness of it all didn’t ease the tension—it only added to the mystery. 

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Grian pov:

I kept my clawed hands on Jelly, gently petting her as she stirred awake, perfectly fine. I gave her a kiss before sending her back into the void with Scar and Mumbo. But the Heroes Association is really starting to test my patience. They think they can punish me by giving me barely any food—just bread and water, like that's supposed to break me. But this is my game, and if I decide to starve, that's my choice. I won't touch a single morsel of their pathetic rations. If they want their precious number one hero back, they’re going to have to answer some questions and start meeting some demands. Scar deserves just as much freedom as anyone else, hero or not, and I'm not backing down until that happens.

After what felt like hours of nothing but silence and the dull echo of my own thoughts against the concrete walls, the directors finally started trickling down to my cell. The place was as grim as it gets—cold, hard concrete on every side, except for one wall made of bars, which separated me from the rest of the world. They stood on the other side of those bars, thinking they had the upper hand.

One by one, they started asking what I wanted, probably thinking they could talk their way out of this. I wasn’t interested in their small talk, though. I made my demands clear. "I want to know why you’re so obsessed with Scar. What’s your problem with him having a life outside of being your hero?" I asked, my voice cold, cutting through the tension in the room.

But they just exchanged nervous glances, trying to sidestep my questions with vague answers and bureaucratic nonsense. It was obvious they had no intention of giving me the truth. Frustration boiled over, and I could feel the anger surging inside me.

I snapped. In one swift move, I reached through the bars, grabbing the nearest director by the neck. His eyes went wide with terror as I pulled him against the bars and then slammed him hard against the concrete wall behind him. The sound echoed through the cell, and the others froze, fear evident in their faces.

"Answer me," I hissed, tightening my grip just enough to make him squirm. "Why can't Scar have a life outside of this? What are you hiding?"

He stammered, his voice shaking as he realized I wasn't messing around. "W-We... we need him focused, all right? If he... if he starts thinking about anything else, it compromises his effectiveness! The higher-ups... they don't want to risk losing control!"

I leaned in closer, my eyes narrowing. "Control? Scar isn’t your puppet. He deserves to make his own choices, just like anyone else. So here’s how it’s going to go—you’re going to stop treating him like your property, or things are going to get a lot worse for you."

The other directors stood in stunned silence, not daring to move. As I released the director, letting him slump to the floor, gasping for breath, the others finally began to realize just how vulnerable they were. They might have locked me in this cell, but they weren’t safe—not by a long shot. I could get out anytime I wanted. I was small enough to squeeze through the bars if I really tried, and the thought of that clearly terrified them. Their fear was palpable, and it pushed them to start talking—quickly.

The words tumbled out of their mouths, each one more desperate than the last. But then, one of them said something that made my blood run cold. "One of the higher-ups... he’s a director of villains. They need to start creating more chaos, or else our boss is going to be mad at everyone. If there isn’t enough chaos out there, he’ll make sure there’s chaos within the Heroes Association itself. They thrive on it, on chaos."

For a moment, I was frozen, processing the sheer insanity of what I’d just heard. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. These people were deliberately creating havoc, sacrificing lives and order just to keep some twisted balance of power in check.

My eye began to glow a fierce, bright purple, the rage coursing through me impossible to contain. The directors saw it too, and their fear escalated into outright panic. "Yeah... like that... oh wait—" one of them stammered, his voice trembling, "they seem to be more scared of me now."

Good. They should be scared. I stepped closer to the bars, letting my anger radiate off me. "You think you can control chaos?" I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "You’ve got no idea what real chaos looks like. But you’re about to find out if you keep playing these games."

The directors recoiled, clearly regretting every decision that had led them to this point. They knew now that I wasn’t someone they could control or contain. If they didn’t give me what I wanted, the chaos they feared so much would be unleashed right here, right now. And they would be the first to experience it.

I demanded Scar’s freedom. He could still be a hero, but he would no longer be a puppet under the Watchers' control. I could feel the anger boiling over, and before they could even comprehend what was happening, I began to grow, doubling in size, revealing my true form. The sight of me towering over them, now too large and powerful for the cell to hold, struck terror into their hearts.

Their eyes widened in horror as I effortlessly broke through the bars, the metal crumbling under my strength like paper. I didn’t stop to listen to their desperate pleas or the alarms blaring throughout the facility, announcing that the prisoner had escaped. I didn’t care. Nothing else mattered except one thing—no one was going to hurt Scar anymore.

I knew exactly where the Watchers liked to hide, their secret lairs buried deep within the Heroes Association. They thought they were untouchable, that no one would dare challenge them. They were wrong.

I moved with purpose, navigating the corridors with ease despite my larger form. When I reached their hiding place, sure enough, there they were, huddled together, unaware of the storm coming their way. The moment they saw me, it was already too late. I dealt with them swiftly, disposing of them with a ferocity they never anticipated.

The Watchers who had tormented and manipulated Scar were gone, wiped out without a trace. The Heroes Association may have thought they were in control, but they had no idea what real power looked like. I would tear down their whole system if I had to, all to ensure that Scar’s freedom was secure and nothing was going to stop me