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The nearby plains biome had been peaceful that morning.
Now there was a crater.
Egg tilted his head, six wings rustling around his face as he approached the smoking indent in the grass. The chaotic energy had hit him like a wave—sharp, wrong, buzzing in a way that made his feathers stand on end. It tasted like lightning and felt like static, and it was here.
At the bottom of the crater, something moved.
Egg peered down, adjusting his headdress of feathers. There was a figure—humanoid, curled up, naked as the day they were... well. Born? Formed? The being had dark horns curling from their head, purple hair and skin and a tail lashing weakly against the scorched earth.
"Hello?" Egg called softly.
The figure's head snapped up. Purple eyes, wild and unfocused. A low hiss rattled from their throat.
Egg blinked. Well. This was new. He noted with some amusement that the being seemed to be lacking certain anatomical features—smooth where humans typically weren't. Curious. He filed that observation away and focused on the more pressing issue: the very hostile, very naked creature snarling at him from a crater.
"Easy dude," Egg said, raising his hands. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
Another hiss. The being's claws—oh, those were claws, long and dark and very sharp—dug into the dirt. Their tail whipped back and forth like a trapped animal.
Egg settled at the edge of the crater, sitting cross-legged. Waiting. He'd learned patience over the years, and whatever this being was, they were clearly scared. Or angry. Probably both.
Minutes passed. The hissing subsided into wary breathing. The being's eyes never left him, tracking every small movement. Those purple eyes gleamed in the light, suspicious and wild.
"Bro, You okay down there?" Egg tried again.
No response. Just those eyes, boring into him.
Egg hummed thoughtfully, then started shrugging off his outer waistcoat and jacket—the loose black one he wore over his shirt, revealing his plain white t-shirt. "You look cold."
That got a reaction. The being's eyes narrowed, suspicious.
"Here." Egg tossed the fabrics down gently. It landed near the being's feet.
They stared at it. Then at Egg. Then back at the suit.
Slowly, cautiously, they reached for it. Claws retracted with a soft snikt before they touched the fabric. They pulled it on, wrapping it around their chest and shoulders.
Something in their expression softened. Just barely.
"Got a name?" Egg asked.
Silence. Then, rough and unused, like gravel scraping together: "Wemmbu."
Egg's face brightened behind his mask of wings. "Wemmbu. Okay. I'm Egg."
Wemmbu didn't say anything else, just clutched the waistcoat tighter.
"You hungry?"
Wemmbu's stomach answered before he could—a low, demanding growl.
Egg stood, offering a hand down into the crater. "Come on. I've got a place nearby."
Wemmbu stared at the hand for a long moment. His tail twitched uncertainly. Then, with visible reluctance, he reached up and took it.
Egg's base was warm.
Wemmbu had stayed silent the entire walk there, flinching at every sound, every rustle of leaves. His tail had stayed low, dragging through the grass, and his shoulders were hunched like he expected something to jump out at him. Every few steps, he'd glance at Egg, those purple eyes wary and calculating.
It was small, sure, and it looked more of a sloppily built hut than an actual house, but once inside, with actual walls around him, some of the tension bled from his shoulders. The space was cozy—wooden floors, soft lighting, the smell of something herbal and warm lingering in the air. It felt... enclosed. Protected.
Wemmbu's tail slowly lifted from the floor.
Egg rummaged through a chest and pulled out spare clothes—a soft shirt, pants, socks. "These should fit. Ish."
Wemmbu took them without a word, the fabric soft against his palms. He stared at them for a moment, turning them over like he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.
"That door there," Egg said gently, pointing. "You can change in private."
Wemmbu glanced at the door, then back at Egg. Then, clutching the clothes close, he disappeared into the side room.
The door clicked shut.
Egg busied himself in the kitchen, giving Wemmbu space. His wings shifted thoughtfully. This being—Wemmbu—was fascinating. Chaotic energy, demonic features, but underneath all that hostility was something else. Something scared and new and lost.
Egg had seen it in those purple eyes. The confusion. The overwhelm.
When Wemmbu emerged a few minutes later, the transformation was subtle but significant. The horns poking through his purple hair and the tail swishing behind him looked almost incongruous with the casual outfit, but Wemmbu stood a little straighter now. His claws were retracted, his hands fidgeting with the hem of the shirt.
"Better?" Egg asked.
Wemmbu nodded once, sharp and quick.
"Good. Sit. I'll make something."
Wemmbu perched at the table, sitting on the edge of the chair like he might need to bolt at any second. His tail curled around the chair leg. He watched as Egg moved around the kitchen, his movements practiced and easy. Those wings shifted constantly, feathers rustling with each motion, and Wemmbu couldn't stop staring at the way they framed his head like a halo. Or a crown. Or something.
The hidden jaws behind Egg's central eye-like marking clicked softly as he worked—the sound of eating, maybe, or just existing—and though Wemmbu couldn't see them clearly, he could hear them. It should have been unsettling. Everything about Egg should have been unsettling.
But it wasn't.
Egg hummed as he cooked, a soft tuneless sound. Relaxed. Like having a hostile demon in his kitchen was the most normal thing in the world.
When Egg set a plate in front of him—warm bread, cooked meat, roasted vegetables—Wemmbu didn't hesitate. He grabbed the food and ate like he was starving. Which, maybe he was. He didn't know. Everything was new and overwhelming and his body kept demanding things he didn't understand yet.
Hunger. Thirst. Warmth. Safety.
The food was good. Warm and filling and it made something in his chest feel less hollow. Less like chaos and more like something solid. Real.
Egg sat across from him, eating his own meal in that strange way where the food just... disappeared near his face. The jaws behind the eye clicked and shifted, though Wemmbu still couldn't see the mechanism clearly. Just knew it was happening.
They ate in silence. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but heavy with unspoken things.
"Good?" Egg asked after a few minutes.
"Yeah." Wemmbu's plate was empty. He looked at it, at the crumbs and the smear of sauce, then at Egg. His tail flicked.
There was silence for a second.
“Can I have more?”, Came a quiet voice.
Egg's wings fluttered—pleased, maybe? Happy? Something warm that Wemmbu couldn't quite name. "Sure. As much as you want."
The second helping disappeared just as fast. And maybe Wemmbu's shoulders relaxed a little more. Maybe his tail stopped lashing quite so much. Maybe, when Egg stood to refill his water cup without being asked, Wemmbu's eyes followed him with something less like suspicion and more like... curiosity.
Egg talked a little while they ate—nothing important, just small observations about the weather, the biome, the base. His voice was steady and calm, not demanding responses, just filling the silence with something gentle.
Wemmbu didn't talk back, but he listened. His ears twitched with each new word, cataloguing them, trying to make sense of this strange being who'd taken him in.
By the time evening rolled around, Wemmbu's eyes were drooping. His tail dragged behind him as Egg led him to the bedroom.
"You can sleep here," Egg said, gesturing to the bed. It wasn't a normal bed—instead of blankets laid flat, there was a nest, piled and arranged in a circular hollow. Soft. Safe.
Something instinctive sparked in Wemmbu's chest at the sight of it. His tail curled.
"Go on," Egg encouraged.
Wemmbu didn't need to be told twice. He climbed into the nest, burrowing into the blankets, and let out a sound that was almost a purr. The fabric smelled like Egg—something warm and gentle and safe.
Egg pulled a blanket up over him, tucking it around his shoulders. "Get some rest. We'll figure things out tomorrow."
Wemmbu's eyes were already closing. "Egg?"
"Yeah?"
"...Thanks."
Egg's wings rustled softly, warmly. "Anytime, Wemmbu."
The door clicked shut softly, leaving Wemmbu alone in the dark.
Wemmbu stared at the ceiling.
He should be asleep. His body was screaming at him to sleep, every muscle aching in ways he didn't have words for yet. But his mind wouldn't stop.
The nest was perfect. He'd burrowed deeper into it without thinking, arranging the blankets around himself in ways that felt right. Like his body knew what to do even if his brain didn't. The weight of them, the way they cocooned him—it settled something frantic in his chest.
But that wasn't what kept him awake.
Why?
Why had Egg helped him? Why had he sat there at the crater's edge, patient and calm, when Wemmbu had been hostile? He'd hissed at him. Shown his claws. Made it very clear he was dangerous.
And Egg had just... waited.
Then gave him clothes. Food. A home, even if just for tonight.
Wemmbu's tail twitched under the blankets, curling around his leg. His claws flexed, still retracted but itching to come out. Everything in him was wound tight, confused, wrong.
Deep in his chest, something was snarling.
It had started the moment he'd looked up and seen those wings. Six of them, arranged like a crown, gleaming with an energy that made his skin prickle. He'd known, instinctively, what Egg was.
Angel.
And everything inside Wemmbu had screamed danger.
Even now, surrounded by Egg's scent, his kindness, that voice in his head was growling. He's an angel. You're a demon. This is wrong. He'll turn on you. He'll hurt you. Get out. Leave. Run.
Wemmbu pulled the blanket tighter around himself, pressing his face into the soft fabric.
But he didn't want to run.
Egg had been... gentle. Patient. He'd given Wemmbu his own jacket without hesitation, led him here without demanding answers, fed him without asking for anything in return. The food had been warm and good and Egg had just smiledbehind those wings when Wemmbu asked for seconds.
No one had ever—
Well. Wemmbu didn't have memories before today. Before the crater. Before the chaos solidifying into this, into a body, into something that could touch and feel and hunger. But somehow he knew. Knew that this was strange. Knew that angels and demons weren't supposed to—
Stop.
Wemmbu's claws extended slightly, pricking through the blanket. He forced them back with effort.
His instincts were wrong. They had to be. Because Egg hadn't hurt him. Hadn't even threatened him. Had just offered help, over and over, until Wemmbu's walls started cracking.
And when Egg had offered his hand to pull Wemmbu out of the crater, and Wemmbu had taken it—that touch had been warm. Solid. Real. No burning, no pain, just... contact.
Safe.
Wemmbu's tail curled tighter. His horns pressed into the pillow as he shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his thoughts spiral.
Why are you being so nice to me?
The question rattled around in his skull. He should have asked it out loud. Should have demanded answers. But every time he'd tried to form words today, they'd gotten stuck in his throat, and all that came out were fragments. His name. A thank you. Nothing else.
His body was so new. Everything was overwhelming. The weight of the air, the texture of fabric, the taste of food, the sound of Egg's voice—it was all too much and not enough and he didn't know how to process any of it.
But Egg had made it easier. Had moved slowly, spoke softly, gave Wemmbu space when he needed it and closeness when he didn't know he wanted it.
The instincts growled again. He's playing you. Angels don't help demons. It's a trick.
"Shut up," Wemmbu whispered into the dark.
Egg had tucked him in. Had made sure he was comfortable. Had told him they'd figure things out tomorrow, like there was going to be a tomorrow, like Wemmbu was allowed to stay.
Wemmbu's chest felt tight. Strange. Like something was pressing against his ribs from the inside.
He trusted Egg.
The thought was startling in its clarity. He'd known the guy for less than a day and he trusted him. More than he trusted his own screaming instincts, more than he trusted this new body, more than he trusted anything else in this strange, overwhelming world.
Egg had given him kindness when Wemmbu had nothing to offer in return.
And that... that meant something. Wemmbu didn't know what yet. Didn't have the words or the experience to name it. But it settled warm in his chest, right next to the chaos that made up his core.
His eyes were getting heavier. The nest was so warm, so soft, and the door was closed but not locked—Egg trusted him too, enough to leave him alone in his home, in his space.
The instincts were still growling, but quieter now. Tired.
Wemmbu let his eyes fall shut, his tail going slack, his claws retracting fully for the first time since he'd formed.
Tomorrow, Egg had said. They'd figure things out tomorrow.
Wemmbu could wait until tomorrow.