One-Shots [Boboiboy]

Everything

What would you do

if everything you thought to be true

was just another lie

hidden from the truth

Running from reality

the one who couldn't live

"—goodbye."

The words ended there. There were no more papers, no more lines of ink. Only the faint crease of a dried tear remained, the paper fairly new yet the words were practiced, as if the writer had spent many times perfecting his speech.

Fang held the crinkled parchment, his fingers trailing over the smooth surface. His eyes didn't lie, nor did the words change. What has been written has been written.

He had found this letter on Boboiboy's bed, the door to his room unlocked hastily, which must be the work of Gopal struggling to pack his items before he left to Earth. Before leaving, Fang had thought that he might tell Boboiboy about the abnormal reports that TAPOPS had been receiving—nameless static audio that had no purpose. But all he found was this.

Fang? Yaya's voice boomed from his watch. Are you there? We're about to leave.

Fang clenched the paper, quickly putting it back onto Boboiboy's bed. If Boboiboy didn't want to tell them, then he should wait until he comes clean himself first.

"Yeah. On my way. Got caught up in something."

He was the only one left. The first person who greeted him was none other than the elemental manipulator, who still possessed that bright smile and cheerful personality. How can he, if what the note written was true?

Fang returned a smile and went into the ship, the hangar door closing behind him.

* * *

Just as Fang read from the letter, their peace didn't last long. The unnamed enemy finally appeared, and he was a larger threat than any of them anticipated.

"Pulangkan kuasa elemental ku!"

"Jangan!"

Boboiboy had been defeated. They had been defeated. Everyone had been defeated. Kaizo, Admiral Tarung... even Kaizo.

The sad thing? Fan had predicted all of this. All from Boboiboy's letter. The only thing that he was surprised about was Kaizo's interference. But the outcome was the same anyway.

"—an enemy no one has ever defeated—"

He didn't know how long he was out for, but when he awoke, the thick smell of sulphur hit him, along with the metallic stench of blood. He had jolted awake, fearing for the worst, but there was no danger.

A dark figure sitting at the edge of the station.

Fang staggered to his feet, his centre of gravity out of bounds, nearly tripping as his weight was balanced evenly. His eyes struggled to stay open, yet the figure's silhouette was unmistakable.

He looked around. Everyone was still out like a light, but there were no further injuries. At least the ones he could see.

The figure had his legs dangling off the side, his back slouched over. Fang couldn't see his face, but he could see vague lightings of his white hair as the galaxy of the cosmos cycled through with each highlight.

"—coming back alive—"

No, that wasn't what the letter said. There was more to it.

That's when he noticed the body propped across the wall. A crater, with the mangled corpse of an alien pinned to the metal surface with chips of his own armour, pierced through his flesh and embedded into the iron.

There was a pool of blood on the floor, but it was blue, the thick liquid mixed in with chunks of flesh. The scene was gruesome, but Fang didn't feel the slightest bit phased. He'd lived through moments like these for years, but never after a battle against a villain.

Retakka? It had to be. But for his end to be such a brutal one, even he didn't deserve it.

Fang's eyes trailed down to the river of blood, where the colour blue slowly bled into purple, then red, then finally leading to another lifeless body; who became clear that it wasn't alive at all.

"—I'm not coming back alive."

His chest ached, fearing the worst. Despite the darkness, he could make out the body's blood-stained clothing, the blood beginning to dry into brown as it clumped on the jacket.

They hadn't won.

But someone did.

Almost like second nature, his eyes fell onto the dark figure who had yet to move an inch.

"They're all gone," the figure whispered, his voice hoarse. "They're gone."

Fang blinked, taken aback. That voice... was disturbingly familiar, and whoever owned it died.

The figure wasn't making any movements, nor was he threatening him. He must've heard Fang waking up, or he was talking to himself. Both options were equally terrifying.

"They're gone," he repeated, his voice more solid and anguished now. His head hung lower, his hands clenching his heart. "They're gone, they're gone, they're gone, they're gone—"

Who's gone? Fang looked around, and realized that there was another body, casted aside, further from the carnage. But unlike the others, fragments of light were dotted on his body, making him recognizable.

Quake?

Fang swirled to the figure, another wave of light casting on him. His clothes were a combination of dark blue and light blue, yet his hair was striking white.

Cyclone.

The body he saw earlier... the red blending with a darker shade... Thunderstorm.

"You know," Cyclone croaked, unclenching his shirt. "I tried to tell them. I really did. Now they're gone. And I'm stuck here. Forever. I told them but they won't listen—why won't they listen?"

"Listen?" Fang demanded, suddenly sick. "What did you do?"

Cyclone fell silent, not even his sobs were audible anymore.

"Everything."