Phil didn't know how many days he had stayed with Wilbur. He had a soft aura to him, like he was safe. Like he meant something important. Of course, every life was important in some way, but this one is... different.

He had a possibility, a guess at the back of his mind. But no, it couldn't be true.

"Hey, Wil, have you ever tried making a portal, or summoning any invisible parts?" Phil asked, and Wilbur gave him a funny look.

"What're you implying, old man?" He joked, chuckling. "No I... I guess I haven't. I've never really needed to, y'know? I like it here."

"Your world will exist forever, you know. Even when you're dead, in which you'll be reborn." Phil reminded the man, who nodded, looking at the guitar he had idly strummed.

"I know, but this world.. I've never had a need to leave it, so I've never tried. I can't be a dimension rider or- or whatever the silly names are." Wilbur strummed again, whispering lyrics. What was he saying, Phil wondered. He could make out 'thank god the time is short', and then the boy mumbled something about needing a band.

"Why don't you try now?" Phil asked, "Anything is possible."

If Wilbur wasn't a code breaker, that didn't matter. Phil had it in his titles, he could break the code himself and make Wilbur like him. Only if he wanted to be, though. He was deserving, but he won't force the boy into a role he doesn't want. Even if it was totally awesome and anyone would do anything for it, he wouldn't.

"Sure. How?" Wilbur asked. Phil summoned his ender raven form, large, elegant black wings with diamond-like shapes naturally shining in the feathers. His feet became talons, and his arms became covered with feathers, and he now had talons for hands. 

"Focus. You need to be peaceful, or have a strong positive emotion." Phil guided Wilbur, the boy concentrating hard. For a second, two very dark sets of wings sprouted from his back. But only for a second, because they were gone just as they came.

"MOTH!" Phil shouted instinctively. He knew that dark shade of brown, he knew that- he- where has- could it be?

"WHAT? WHERE? HUH?" Wilbur shrieked in a sudden startle, jumping and looking around.

"No, no, no, no, no! Try again, you were almost there!" Phil urged, and Wilbur gave him a startled glance, fixing his expression and trying again. This time, the wings came out slower, unfurling to reveal the mass amounts of fuzz and tiny scales. Two fuzzy antennae rose from the boy's hair, matching the shade of the wings. Dull, dark brown fuzz coated his arms, and he soon had claws instead of hands and fingers.

"Holy shit... Wil, open your eyes. I need you to describe your mother to me." That spiral on his wings, he- no.. It couldn't be. That was Kristin's hair color, and those markings belonged to her. His wife, his love. He- Was Wilbur his son?

"Uh, okay. I don't remember much. Her hair was brown, I don't remember. Maybe like this but lighter," Wilbur admired the fluff on his arms. It was like the fur on a well-cleaned wolf; Soft and fluffy. "Well, uh, she had a sweet voice, and liked to joke. When the situation was taken too far, she got me ice cream from Hypixel. That's all I can remember."

"What was her name?" Phil asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Something with a K? Krissy? Christi? Krrrrr... Something. I dunno, I called her 'mum'." Wilbur offered.

"Kristin." Phil breathed. Wilbur snapped his gaze to the older.

"Yeah! That was it!" He smiled, though it didn't last long. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"Kristin... Was my wife." Phil and Wilbur locked eyes, "Wilbur. I think.. I know.. I'm your father, mate."

Things were silent for a moment, Wilbur looking as if a zombie pigman had knocked on his door, arriving to tell him that he was dead, and going to the nether- to Hell.

"No." Wilbur was the first to break it, dropping his gaze. Phil was worried for a moment, that the boy- his son? would suddenly bolt and hate him. It was understandable. 

But before he could ask, Wilbur continued.

"No fucking way. DAD?" 

Phil broke into a smile, warmth pouring into his heart. Tears welled up in both male's eyes, and before he could process it, Wilbur had buried his moth-hybrid self into Phil, both hugging each other tightly. They'd never admit that they both broke down in pure joy, speaking words no one would ever know.

That's why Wilbur felt safe to Phil.

That's why he instinctively had to stick with him.

The specific hardcore heart on the middle of his back glimmered with no light, it represented being re-united. Being home. 

Being happy.