A/N - Here's the full synopsis I usually use because I cannot do 380 characters for this.

Woofless had already heard the theories of this fabled "Plane of Existence," but had always scoffed them off. Nothing could survive outside the Borders that kept many from leaving Living Axe. How could there be other worlds out there, worlds with people like us? Reflections? What conspirator came up with this?

Nothing can survive outside the Borders. There's no way to escape.

Those lies were foiled after he volunteered for the experiment that ruined his life... twice. Now merged with a somewhat-mirror-image of himself dubbed Rob, he flees through the Borders and survives in hopes of finding a way of splitting them, only to learn he can't due to Rob's mysterious murder. And it's not like they can turn around now - in Living Axe they'll be captured again, and in How to Minecraft they've alreasy been discovered.

Just for how long can they keep this up until the worlds fall apart under the paradox?

Without further ado, enjoy :)

Chapter One – Still Here

"I'd die to be where you are/ I tried to be where you are." -Digital Daggers, 'Still Here'

A quiet village surrounded a castle.

Well, it was quiet at the moment, the time currently night, thus so the inhabitants resting in their homes. Though when the hours that daylight disrupted their slumber and forced them to get about their business was when raucous, loud and boisterous noise filled the air at squares and markets woven into the streets, even within the castle walls the village boasted as their centerpiece.

Perhaps a name for this place could've been "Noisy Town." Oh, a fun joke between the citizens and the other places people would domicile within the kingdom borders. Yet that was no such name.

The noise, however, would've diminished the further from the castle if one travelled outward during the day. The streets would turn from stone bricks and cobblestone to cobblestone and gravel to gravel and finally just dirt. Alleyways stretched farther apart from one another with each passing house until they could hold a wide expanse of farmland and cattle. More trees popped from the ground and more greenery, more silence, a more gentle and slow life held beyond the busy life within.

And typically, the outer life wouldn't be so eventful, for the most part not following the end of evening.

Tonight was the exception.

((((()()()()()))))

His glowing fingers drummed against the windowsill, each one that fell in a rhythmic flow that vibrated his elbow propping up his head, staring through the glass panes. He sighed.

Kenny had already gone to sleep, having been exhausted from working in the wheatfields for most of the day. He would've been too tired to wake up to the sounds outside, and even if he did, wouldn't have bothered to move from bed. Meanwhile Preston, who in turn was bobbing his head, gazed at the passing knights galloping down the paths on their horses, glass visors and rough faces beneath illuminated by the lanterns held in the mouths of their rides. It was a baffling scene – there was hardly any night patrol to maintain the confines of curfew, and even then, they never moved so quickly, so urgently. It was as if they were chasing someone or going someplace imminent.

Something was wrong.

Preston continued to maintain his cadent hand movements while arguing with himself whether to wake his roommate or not. Not won over; he sincerely felt bad for Kenny. The little sixteen-year-old had been ordered to move out of his own home when Rob was taken away over two months ago and hated living here. Since there have been constant complaints on how it was boring in the outer life, worse with the labor he had to commit to since Preston no longer wanted.

Yet the poor boy may like the excitement, or it just be a whole hot mess of worry.

He sighed, turning from the window. It was probably just some thief that broke into the royal family's vault or an escaping criminal believed to rendezvous out in the less populous side of the village, nothing out of the ordinary-

Knocking.

It was so unexpected Preston jumped, the heat that flared over his body strengthening and marking the stone ground underneath his feet with a dark color. Perhaps walking around barefoot wasn't his brightest idea, then again living in a wooden house ended disastrously in the same way.

The knocking continued, the sound turning from a tap to a pounding that as loud as it was still would fail to wake Kenny. As the resident walked through his darkened home he figured it had to be a knight that would question him if he saw anything unusual or knew something about their castaway target. And he was right.

He just didn't expect the knight to be Vikk.

Amber eyes met him from the other side of the door as he opened it, jutting out from a dark brown face under an enchanted iron helmet gleaming intensely in blue Protection and purple Unbreaking. A Sharpness sword glowing deep cerulean lay at the side, though swinging harmlessly from his belt untouched, not even with a hand to reach for it. Fully armored and fortified, his face stern with solemnity, and backed by a pair of other knights carrying lanterns on horseback on the gravel path, he was somewhat frightening.

But not to Preston. Had it been a different environment his arms would already be thrown around Vikkstar's neck, except this was not the case. He caught onto the grave atmosphere and stood at attention, almost like a true knight himself. Shame he wasn't permitted.

"Hey Preston," greeted Vikk flatly. "It's a nice night tonight, isn't it?"

His friend nodded, staring up at the skies. The sky was utterly black and dotted with tiny twinkling stars, cloudless and lacking the presence of a moon; a perfect night. "Yeah, it's nice."

Vikk narrowed his furor, catching that short hint of despair. "Hey," he said, "I know I haven't been around much as often as I promised but I really can't stay. You feeling alright?"

Preston nodded, which was a big fat lie. Still, he belied otherwise, "Not really. I really miss Rob since they cut out any visitors. It was because the experiment went wrong, didn't it?"

"No. The scientists assured the experiment went right as plan, just some side effects they wanted to work out. But, Preston that's why I'm here."

He blinked, creeper-like eyes shocked. "What do you mean? What happened to Rob?"

The knight held up his hands, halting his friend from continuing and speaking up himself. "Calm down-"

"Why should I calm down? You know Robbie is all I got left! And if he's hurt or something from those scientist people I'll-"

He ceased his rambling, seeing the men on the path beginning to draw their swords. Vikk spiraled round and stopped them, then turning back to Preston, an orange glow highlighting his face. Slowly he admitted, "Yes, something happened to Rob- but wait, you… you can help us."

Taking deep breaths, Preston crossed his arms, having his magma-like limbs cool down. The men lowered their weapons, looking glumly at each other. He knew they were waiting for an excuse to kill him. A lot of people wanted to kill him, respawn or not, as well as the other humanoids like him.

See, as though the majority of the kingdom and the inhabitants of the village were pure Minecraftian, there were a small percentage that… wasn't. Preston included, being a sort of "lava-mob" from the moment of birth. The lava part was a bit obvious with his skin textured with the moving hot liquid and the flaming light he emitted. "Mob" jumped in from his face that resembled a creeper so much it was rumored one of his parents were one. Not that he ever met his parents. The thing was, Preston wasn't a "hostile" mob; always cool, typically able to hold himself together however it was natural - may've burned a few things down when he did get upset, only…

He hated how some treated him and his kind of people as animals. Though Preston was the only lava-mob, there were others who were treated unfairly. Pete, being part slime, often had children stick things in him that was a difficult mess to remove, those kids not even fearing anyone of authority reprimanding them for it as it was seen as "harmless" child's play. Choco had difficulty finding a job, and when he did, he barely kept it for a week before someone "unalloyed" would step in. Once in a while one of the Little Lizard brothers would be found in an alleyway beaten to a pulp. And Nooch… Preston didn't like to think about what happened to his friend. An accident forced him to become cyborg, chasing away the bulk of his buddies other than the ones he had now, and a year ago he tried to lead a revolution to end the discrimination by taking over the monarchy. It failed, his followers executed, Nooch jailed for life, mainly because the non-bias king was outvoted by the people's clamors, however forced into the sovereign's service since they were friends.

Since, though, the hardships only seemed to worsen, especially with Rob, otherwise known as Woofless, a human, called upon to reside in the Facility and no longer providing a safe pass. There were a lot of furious stares aimed at the lava-mob lately when he walked among the streets, telling him wordlessly that one step out of line he would be next.

It was only a matter of time before there would be a snap that would more likely kill him and take his respawn.

Perhaps denying Vikk's request would get these two knights to slice off his head. Believing so, he took a deep breath, feeling his heart slow down. Still with a slight edge of angst, he asked softly, "Sure but… what happened to Rob?"

Vikk lowered his eyes, afraid to look at his friend. "He, uhh, fled the Facility a few hours ago-"

"He WHAT!?"

A flash of enchanted iron caught his eyes. Quickly Preston stepped back in the doorway, smothering his flaring anger before things became too heated.

"Robert ran away from the research facility," restated Vikk, amber eyes floating up to the lava-mob's level. Benign, offering care. "Around nine at the latest. I wasn't told why but the scientists think it has to do with the side-effects of the experiment done on him."

"So the experiment was done? The one he volunteered for?"

The knight nodded. "I heard it went smoothly, just something that wasn't foreseen they were getting under control until… well…"

Confusion washed over him. Preston narrowed his eyes, expecting his friend to continue, only to contract silence.

What was wrong with Woofless? If the experiment went without difficulty with just an easy to deal with symptom why would he run? Better said, if something was wrong with him, why would he leave the only people who could help him?

"What was the side-effect?"

Vikk shrugged. "I was told he might harm more people than himself. I don't know how but it's all I know."

Harm more people than himself.

"And I can help how?" He almost didn't want to, didn't want to get hurt or somehow hurt Rob and get blamed for it, which would happen. But if a friend was in trouble there was nothing stopping him for helping that friend.

Shame there had to be limits.

Thankfully Vikk knew this too. "I was thinking you'd keep an eye out," he explained. "I know you can't right now with your curfew but when it lets up you could look around for us. And you're close to Robert, so we were thinking he might try meeting up with you. If he does-"the knight raised his left arm horizontally, swiping his pointer finger from elbow to wrist where a gray line trailed. Instantly a rectangle of the same transparent color rose about two hands high, filled with messages from various people followed by -me, "me" being Vikkstar. "-You just tell me through chat. I got you permission except only whispering to other people, nothing public. 'Kay?"

Preston nodded, tracing his left arm and just like with Vikk a gray rectangle rose from his limb, only a lot thinner. Chat was busier for the knight in front of him since he was a major sergeant on duty, however for the humanoids they could usually only watch public messages go by or never reply to any whispers sent to them. It had something to do with the command blocks built and hidden within the kingdom borders, rumored to be hidden somewhere amid the castle, which were programmed to hamper certain citizens' communication. Such law was only admitted following Nooch's uprising to prevent any of the humanoids from making plans between one another, some saying that they were only allowed to watch public and private messages go by to make them feel left out, apart, derided.

And now, with the news that these restraints were lowered for him, the lava-mob flicked with his right hand to the left, where a keyboard showed up. Slowly, he typed in /w to Vikkstar123 testing.

On the other open chat, the words TBNRfrags -me: testing. appeared. Preston only stared blankly.

Nodding, Vikk smiled at his friend, who didn't return it. "Maybe I can convince Mitch to keep your permissions-"

"Don't try," interjected Preston glumly. "I'm sure if he submits the idea to the committee it'll be vetoed in seconds. They're already considering taking his ranks."

"They wouldn't do that."

"Believe me – if they were sane enough to request the use of me and Rob, then use him over me to torture, they'd evict Mitch."

He sighed, turning away. "I'll keep an eye out for Rob and tell you guys. But if you're gonna hurt him-"

"I would never hurt my friends."

"I'm talking about the people you're working for, those scientists." Eyelids shutting, Preston stepped into his house, magma-colored hand on the door. "I don't trust them. I don't."

With that, he closed the door.

((((()()()()()))))

The night seemed a lot colder now with the news Rob was on the loose somewhere burrowed deep into the lava-mob's chest. His mind, more like it, or his heart. Having returned to his position by the window, his creeper-like eyes stared out into the darkness. The empty darkness. More knights had passed by his house since Vikk left, perchance from the possibility Rob may try to meet up there, which secretly, Preston wanted.

Now there were no knights. Not a torch or a lantern, not even the stepping of horse hooves. Had they been tipped off on Rob's location? Yet when Preston checked chat, there was nothing of the sort.

Vikk had already messaged him a few times, however said nothing on coming close on finding their runaway friend. Mostly he received reassurances, those cliché I'm sure we'll find him and Hey don't worry, I bet he's okay which meant nothing. Did he not know how vague they were? The desperate would probably cling to those first words until a thousand more of the same verses woven together in the same way ruined it. And, boy, the amount of times friends had whispered to him in the last couple of months I'm sure Rob is fine.

No one understood how close to two were; Preston, for as long as he could remember, grew up in Rob's household. They were like brothers of a sort. Rob was the one that protected him from those who wanted to hurt him, introduced him to the friends he had now, even stepped up for something that would more likely harm him.

No, not "more likely." Definitely harm him. It had to be why he ran – the experiment hurt him.

Whatever it was.

Preston sighed and opened chat again, this time swiping to the right where he had managed to move some messages he had received before they become lost in the ever-going communications in a private folder. These existed to every individual and had no confines to the humanoids, in which Preston knew, and treasured. Since Rob was gone he had sent whispers to his friend who, in turn, stored them away to look over later.

Now he looked at them, seeing the Woofless - me, hoping they'd showed some sign of what the experiment was about and why Rob had to be kept at the Facility for so long, and possibly any reason that forced him to flee, which there was none of. There was a plethora of times where Rob had mentioned what he had gone through for his testings that prepped him of the experiment, yet they were more of blood being drawn and physical assessments such as exercise. Nothing more. The only thing that seemed suspicious was that he didn't send anymore whispers following the eighteenth of August, ten days ago. It wasn't as though Preston could reply back to see what the holdup was and he was turned down from visiting at any time following that date.

Seeing there was not anything giving him a path to continue thinking, the lava-mob leaned back on his chair, cruising through the whispers, reminded of the visits he had paid to fill the absence. Looking back there seemed nothing horridly wrong with the Woofless, nothing that seemed to make him sick in any way. Maybe there were some times when Preston would come in and find Rob with a bloody bandage on a limb, but he swore it was gone the next day. If he were pale, his face flushed with color the afterward. There was never any hollowness in his cheeks that proved he was being starved in any way. Whenever he was over-exhausted from his physical activities they didn't occur the following day, just to make sure comfort still existed.

Rob just seemed better living at the Facility. Now it was just a matter of why the fudge he would take off under the cover of darkness.

Maybe it was he wasn't permitted to leave? He just needed some fresh air?

Preston chuckled drowsily to himself. It was useless thinking that was getting him nowhere, meanwhile Rob was somewhere with no tracks to follow. Somewhere out there… in the wild… with mobs and such that could hurt him…

As much as he was fighting it, drowsiness began to take over, creating a fog in his mind. The lava-mob shook his head, telling himself to keep his eyes open.

Though, in the end, he found himself adjusting his seat cushions…

((((()()()()())))))

"Sh-Shut up."

The darkness was total now, a black so deep Preston wasn't sure if he had opened his eyes. Even with the soft glow that emitted off his skin he found it virtually impossible to see.

"St-Stop with t-the P-Poofless jokes. I-It's getting on m-my fl-flippin' n-nerves."

Poofless? What sort of joke was that? Caught in the confusion on whether he was still dreaming or not, Preston unfolded himself from the floor where he must've fallen in his slumber, hands flashing around for the nearby candle. He met with an unlit one on the wall he removed, however two fingers stuck before lighting it.

"Okay, i-if t-they ease y-your f-fears t-tell them to y-yourself- o-okay, t-that doesn't w-work either."

Whoever this voice was talking to must've been the most quiet person in the world or the former was speaking far too loud to be unheard. Speaking of which he… he sounded all too familiar. Far too familiar.

Quaking, Preston shuffled his bare feet across the stone floor, following the sound of the intruder, palm sliding along the wall. The stairs were nearby someplace. If he had to the lava-mob would more likely attack this person then run to the second level to warn Kenny, that is, if his suspicions weren't true…

It had to be so late at night – maybe even early morning at this point – yet the trespasser still rambled to a muted second not even tiredly: "I-I j-just need s-some f-food for the j-journey. N-Not w-water, there's a l-lot of st-streams along t-the way. W-Weapon? No, I-I d-don't think its n-necessary."

His ears picked up a creak of one of the kitchen cabinets opening. After a dissatisfied sigh it creaked again, this time a bit faster, until there was a quiet bang of wood colliding.

"S-Sorry, s-sor- W-What do you m-mean b-behind m-me?"

That one hindrance of glowing in the dark. Eyes turned towards him in the obscurity, unseen by the one they were aimed at. Now this prowler had the advantage, meanwhile Preston still had yet to see him, an uneven slope he had to smooth.

He raised his hand to the candle wick, two fingers pressing against the unlit string, heat spreading onto until a flame formed. Still holding on, Preston strider closer to where the voice had originated, listening for footsteps other than his.

There was none.

Perfect. Grinning faintly, standing in the middle of what he believed to be the kitchen, he released his hands.

Having been lit by an unnatural force the candle flared off a bright light, basking the room in a yellow-orange glow flickering, warming the lava-mob's face. Just as he thought, gray-brown eyes gawking directly into his, the man that stood in front of him shaking with fear.

What was there to fear?

Silence lingered in the air. The two only stared at one another, the man straightening a thin, periwinkle-colored shirt with one hand, the other holding a tan folder clutched firmly against his chest.

He couldn't take the nothingness no more, didn't want to. Before his friend could run Preston set his hands firmly around the other's body, trying to ease the trembling, whispering softly, "Rob, I missed you."

A/N - Enjoyed, dear readers? Remember to drop a review!

And has anyone else notice how the Doc Manager has squished my screen into this column thing, or is it just me?