Everything was calm and quiet.
And 8-Ball liked it that way, thank you very much. It wasn't like his life was some sort of story, some narrative that necessitated high-intensity, action-packed scenes in order to keep a hypothetical observer interested in seeing it through, or anything even *close* to that sort. This was his *life*. He was a real, living, breathing being. One with thoughts, emotions, ambitions, dreams. One that wanted to survive from day to day, wanted to be able to live life to the fullest, be able to look back on what he had done and say that he didn't waste it. Having excitement was great and all, but after all he had just endured as of late, he quite enjoyed the brief respite. He wanted a moment where he could relax, where he could stop worrying about this and that.
Not worry *as* much, anyway. As much as he wanted to believe, as much as he wanted to close his eyes and not have to look at it ever again, the Battle for Dream Island was still going strong. It'd been over a decade since the sphere without a favorite number made the grave mistake of joining the competition, and the effects of that still reverberated significantly to this very day.
He failed to join the battle, and for that he was thrown into a cramped metal box with all the other nobodies. Then they were thrown into *another* cramped metal box. Then, when the opportunity for escape finally presented itself, they had to wait until the faceless, capricious voters that got them stuck there in the first place decided that it was their turn to be let free. Then that algebralian descended from the sky, starting the whole cycle of misery all over again. Then 8-Ball got eliminated, then he was thrown into this pocket dimension where that all-powerful child was the sole authority, where their word was law. Then he and the other E.X.I.T. inhabitants had to suffer through countless lessons and assignments, then had to suffer more as they spent *years* trying to escape it. Then they were imprisoned yet again, then their fate was put into the hands of unknowns yet *again*, then the ball was rejected and cast off into the depths of the unknown.
Yet. Again.
And now, here he was.
The sun shined a bit too bright. The air was a bit too warm. The sand was coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it got everywhere. He felt like he was being watched. But what could he do? What could *anyone* do? This was what the universe decided to throw at him, and there was nothing he could do about it except to deal with it.
It's not the *worst* thing in the world, anyhow. For one, his exile from the competition didn't entail imprisonment and embarrassment, like all the other times. Getting tossed around by the storm was certainly painful, but it caused him to land in a corner of the world where the troubles and pains of the Battle for Dream Island could no longer plague him.
As much, anyway. The good news was that 8-Ball didn't have to step into this chapter of his life alone; the bad news is that there certainly were... *better* choices for someone to be stuck with. Firey was a helpful fellow, usually didn't mean any harm, and was a tolerable enough person to be with (even if he couldn't be too close). After all, he had to have *some* positive attributes to warrant him winning the first Battle for Dream Island.
But some things have *clearly* been going on while he was away, while he was stuck in that desolate realm of Eternal Algebra. Even though he no longer had to worry about keeping an algebralian happy, or having to appeal to strangers that watched from afar, he still concerned himself with so, so many things.
The ball sympathized, to a certain degree. Having endured much suffering himself, he didn't want others to face much the same fate. But *having* gone through all that, he wanted to at least have a moment to rest and recuperate, a moment to enjoy the fact that those were now behind him, and that he now had a *sliver* of a chance of working through his problems. But no. One thing was done, and it was time to go right to the very next. The Battle for Dream Island demanded action.
