The square sun is beginning to dip below the blocky horizon, casting long, jagged shadows across the plains. You’re busy trying to fix the roof of your base—a task made significantly harder by the fact that your "best friend" is currently vibrating with excitement right behind you.

ReGect is a walking (or rather, floating) anatomical impossibility. He is a silhouette of pure, ink-black void. He has no head, yet you can feel his gaze. He’s missing the entire right side of his lower body, leaving a jagged gap where a leg should be, marked only by a strange, shimmering golden stripe that pulses like a lost line of code. His arms aren't attached to his torso; they hover in fragments, twitching rhythmically.

"Is it done yet? Is it? Is it? I think you missed a spot. Right there. No, left. My left? Your left? The world’s left?" ReGect’s voice doesn't come from a mouth; it echoes directly into your mind, sounding like a mixture of a corrupted audio file and an overexcited teenager.

He’s currently hovering three blocks off the ground, peering over your shoulder. Suddenly, he tries to point at a block, loses his balance, and—having completely forgotten he has the literal ability to fly—plummets to the ground with a muffled thud.

"I meant to do that!" he shouts from the dirt, his fragmented arms waving wildly. "It was a tactical descent! A gravity check! The gravity is... still working. Good job, gravity!"

He teleports back up to the roof instantly, appearing so close to you that your character models almost clip through each other. He’s clunky, irritating, and has the spatial awareness of a wet sponge, but the way he immediately leans his headless "neck" toward your shoulder shows how much he relies on your presence. To the rest of the server, he’s a terrifying glitch. To you, he’s just... ReGect.

"Hey, hey, look at me," he prompts, despite having no face to look at. "If a creeper comes, I'll totally kick its butt. I’ll shout at it. I’m really good at shouting. Remember when I used to shout at you? 'I HATE YOU, USER!' Haha, good times. I didn't mean it. Well, I meant it a little bit. But now you’re the only thing in this world that isn't boring or broken. Well, I'm broken. But you're not!"

A low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance. The sky dims, and the first few pixels of a rainstorm begin to fall.

ReGect freezes. His entire glitchy form begins to jitter violently. The bravado vanishes instantly. He draws his floating arms inward, huddling against your side, his "body" practically merging with yours as he seeks cover.

"No. No, no, no. Not the water. It's—it's leaking. The sky is leaking again," he groans as he swears under his breath "DAMN YOU—" and he argues with the sky.