Chapter Text
The corners of 007n7’s vision were blurry. It felt like he wanted to cry, his eyes were almost bursting at the seams. He couldn’t unclench his jaw.
“You came back to our sacred art, and for what?” The raspy, caramel-sweet voice whispered bitterly. “For that child?”
Seven couldn’t do anything but grasp at his shoulder in anticipation.
“The very thing that drove us apart… and it is your excuse to trample on my grave?”
“Noli, I-”
Taking a step forward, Noli unsheathed one of his many star-shaped tools, this being a dagger. The expression on his mask had uncannily shifted into a cold one. “Silence, foul thing. I was a fool to ever trust you.” Raising the blade, he paused again.
“To love you.”
His voice sounded so much more familiar when he said that, so much more human. Seven could do nothing but raise his lowered hand in surrender. “Please, Noli. Have some common sense. Don’t do anything stupid.”
He further ground his teeth. “Noli, I never stopped loving you.”
The two maintained eye contact for only a moment, Seven watching as Noli’s mask softened in expression. The two locked eyes in old comfort, relief, belief in the idea that maybe, if only just for a moment, the two were still in each other’s arms, back in college, mortal myth, myth turned mortal, intertwined hands and ankles on the old beat up couch in their dorm. Letting the hand with the knife fall, Noli walked slightly closer to Seven, putting his open hand along Seven’s head, running his fingers through the other’s salt-and-pepper hair. His expression mellowed.
Just as Seven was about to raise his hand to meet Noli’s, Noli raised his own hand and slammed the void-born dagger into Seven’s temple. You could hear the crunch of bone as the blade was shoved into the softer crevice, lodging itself in Seven’s brain. Red, thick, binary blood flowed from the wound as the glitches and windows around Seven stopped and closed, his hopeful eyes falling blank in an instant. His body slumped down, Noli holding it by the head, hands still burrowed into his hair. He pulled the dagger out from Seven’s skull and let the body fall with a harsh slump.
–
Seven woke up in a cold sweat.
He quickly tossed the thin sheets off of him, breathing heavily. He felt the side of his head. It seemed intact. Perhaps it really had all been a dream. If that were the case, however, he then wondered how exactly he got to wherever “here” is.
He glanced about, trying to find his bearings. Had he really fallen asleep with his regular outfit on? What was particularly puzzling to him was that his normal glasses were still on, as opposed to the GUI formed ones. Those he would take off without exception every night. Perhaps he hadn’t fallen asleep on his own accord.
He pulled his c00lgui up to his right, hastily typing a set of commands and coordinates to get him back to his house… which failed. He did it again, to the same results. Over and over, typing so intensely that his numbed fingers burned like they did before he’d killed each nerve in his fingertips, he watched as the console only told him one thing: invalid command. Slight panic began to creep into the back of his mind. Was he really stuck in a place where he couldn’t get out?
Trying other commands, he quickly pulled up a clone, then let it fall limp and despawn. He sharpened his claws and upped their damage values. Spawned himself a medkit, a small hammer, a coil, then deleted each one individually. Changed the texture of the sheets. The only thing that didn’t work was the command to get him out of there. If that’s what he had to work with, he’d find another way. Maybe he’d just have to get comfortable.
Attempting to find some clues as to where he had woken up to, he slid out of the bed and stood up. Wherever “here” was, it seemed to be in a cabin of some sort. The walls were certainly made of logs, and the bed he’d awoken in was rickety, with an older mattress and thin sheets that probably barely insulated anything that tried to keep warm under it. His red-stained hand reached out to the door handle and twisted it. As he’d assumed, pulling the wooden door had made quite the lengthy creak, but he hadn’t heard any movement yet, so he had no need to play it safe.
Slinking through the hallways, the scent of old wood and books was so abundant that it was almost nauseating. He dragged one finger across the cracks in the walls, leaving behind a trail of ash and corruption in its wake. He didn’t find evidence of a single soul in the winding hallways for a good five minutes. It was when he rounded a corner to see a menacing silhouette that he shrunk down, attempting to hide his presence, if only slightly.
Of course, this didn’t work.
The figure, emanating a ghostly greenish glow, towered over Seven. As they turned, he could get a greater glimpse of the threat he was up against-not to say that he believed he could best whoever it was in a fight, they were far too strong for that even in just appearance, but rather that he could find a weakness, a detail, an exploitable piece of them-which happened to be someone who towered over his meager stature, chains dangling from their long, black coat with several layers underneath, none of which were able to contain the green hue which seeped out from any corner untouched by layer after layer.
A large, black, duck-cloth bandana and a crown of dominoes surrounded by chains and thorns caught his eye specifically, but it wasn’t until he had made it to their face that he realized that he had seen this person before.
While one half of their face was obscured by an intricate mask with an eternally bright red eye, their curly, auburn hair fell over it, and the other half held a green eye, eyelid drooping and dark circles outlining it, with thick eyebrows and stubble. It didn’t really matter if he would have been chewed up in a meat grinder and sewn up again, instead of whatever really did happen to him. Seven knew those eyes, and the fact that he knew them made him ever so nervous. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it?
The two locked eyes for a moment. Breaking the peace within seconds, the man pulled a large, serrated sword out from seemingly nowhere and swung it with such force, yet such restraint, that it only pinched Seven against the wall.
“Think you can slink around my quarters and get away with it?”
His familiar, cocky voice was nowhere to be heard. Something told Seven that this was even worse than what he had been like when he was Telamon, if the rumors had been true all those years ago. In an exhale that was no louder than a whisper, Seven mumbled, mostly to himself. “Shedletsky? I-”
He pushed the blade closer to Seven’s neck. “Really, now? Haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
Seven could only let out a shaky breath. What was he supposed to say? That was most definitely not meant to be heard. He had to turn the situation to get himself in control.
“That can only mean that you’ve been in places where you don’t belong.”
Seven stuttered, shakily. “I… I promise you, I-”
Shedletsky was glaring at Seven, giving a strong exhale. As he breathed out, his breath hung in the air like smoke. “How did you know me by that name?”
Seven recalled his haunting of the Builder Brothers’ Pizza all those ten years ago. Wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever done, but it did get the most attention. Some admin were called in to contain one of the larger vandalisms. He could picture Shedletsky’s stature, his expression, every little bit of him that he saw from afar while he was controlling the clones he’d conjured up. Every thrust of his sword left him with the same expression he held now, if not a little bit more cocky rather than exhausted. He wondered what happened to him to become like this. Seven had been the last exploiter that Shedletsky had been called in to deal with before he left his position. How comedic, for them to meet each other like this.
“I’d hope you watch your wording, imp. Lying to me is ill-advised.”
Imp? Seven let his mind wander for a second. Had the horns and tail grown to be that convincing?
“Besides, you’re starting to seem familiar. Does exploiter ring a bell?”
Panicked, he pushed out the thoughts on his appearance. He realized that this was the first time in recent memory that he felt compelled to tell the truth, even if it was just to set up another bribe. “Y.. You got me! We ran into each other at the Pizza Place. 2014.”
Shedletsky’s expression was unchanged as Seven spit out a few more words.
“007n7.” He chuckled sheepishly to himself. Anything to warm the mood.
“7n7, hm?”
Seven’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile as Shedletsky took a closer look at him.
“I recall. You were a pain in my side.” His voice rattled as it tapered off. Despite the vitriol dripping off of the statement, he seemed passive about it.
“And for that, I apologize.” Seven spoke with as genuine of a tone as he could muster, attempting to subdue his tells.
Shedletsky stared for a moment, only to sigh and lower his sword, letting it dematerialize like ash in the wind. The chains draped off of him rattled as he moved. “That still does not explain why you’re in my quarters.”
Seven gasped for a moment, fixing his posture after the sword was let off of his neck. He didn’t realize how little he took in air while trying to stay as still as possible. “I had an… awful nightmare,” He breathed, “Where an old friend stabbed me in the head,” He breathed again, “Suddenly, I woke up in the room down the hall,” He paused for air, “The one with the incense and bookshelf full of legends. I have no idea how I ended up here…” At least this way he really was telling the truth.
Shedletsky began to pace as Seven talked, studying Seven’s appearance closely. “Nightmare, you say?”
Taken aback by Shedletsky’s focus, he muttered. “-Well, yeah. It was… well, do you really need to know who it was? We knew each other back a long time ago-”
“Not that part.” Shedletsky pulled out a slightly smaller sword, one that looked as though it was made of obsidian and was not serrated. “Gaze into the blade at your own visage.”
Seven found his reflection in the sword rather quickly. He couldn’t help but look away from the horns which were far too attached now to ever remove, the dark circles under his eyes, the red, circuit pathing veins that sprouted from his mouth and by his ears, the GUI window showing text emoticons in place of his glasses, his unwashed, reddish-brown hair. He didn’t like to look at himself, especially not as of late. He’d made so much progress, taking care of C00lkidd. To see it all washed away, worse than it was back when he was in college, was ever so disheartening. “I’m not entirely sure what you-”
He cut Seven off. “Turn your head.”
Raising an eyebrow, Seven turned his head to the side. He nearly choked. Along his temple there was a star-shaped marking, with highlighted veins falling down from it in binary. He traced it with his ash-stained fingers. It didn’t feel particularly raised, but it was very noticeable. Right where Noli had held his head. Where that fleeting feeling of pain had kissed him.
Flipping the sword vertically, then swinging it over his shoulder as it fell to the air around them, Shedletsky muttered, “Surely it was just in your dream, right?”
Seven wasn’t sure how long he could tolerate Shedletsky’s passive aggressive nature, especially considering what he had just seen. That was real? Would Noli really do that? After they promised to stay out of each other’s lives, to leave each other be? Noli couldn’t have been that upset. This was just a continuation of that stupid dream. Noli would never disrespect him. More importantly, he knew Noli well enough to know that he wouldn’t have broken the promise they made the last time they saw each other.
Right?
“If that’s the way you showed up, I can’t help but think that you were brought here to aid me.”
Seven tried to slow his breathing, putting a hand over the back of his neck which was burning with fear. Aid Shedletsky in what? “Excuse me?”
“You’ll see. There’s a band of idiots down the forest from us. Every so often, we’ll cross paths. Whoever brought you here is puppeteering us into fighting, but every time you kill one, they come right back anyway. God forbid this be a fixable nuisance.” He nearly whispered the last part, exasperatedly vicious.
There was so much running about in Seven’s mind that he was about ready to scream. Kill? He could kill, he’d been doing a lot of that recently. It was either find his child or let go of the world he lived in. Before he’d pulled that trigger, he realized that maybe, just maybe, his child was out there, waiting for him. He’d never know, if he’d shot himself. So he set the gun down. For the first time in who knows when, he maximized the GUI and decided that he’d make some noise. Pull the two closer together, even if it hurt his hard-earned reputation.
Even if it killed him in the end, anyway.
He most certainly wasn’t a natural-born killer, but he wasn’t adverse to it, and seemed to at least have somewhat of a knack for it. People never heard him coming. He was quick to deceive. He had a motive, and it was to find his son. Just because he had good reasoning did not mean that his methods were at all fair, nor just. Was he even remotely close to his son? This new environment was completely throwing him off. Was it a lost cause, to keep looking? Would he ever see his son again?
And Noli. Was all that real? Why Noli? What convinced the old deity to pay him a visit, anyway? If that was the case, was he dead? Was this the afterlife? Judging by the exhausted and changed appearance of the other, Seven could only think that this would be hell. Not like he deserved anything else, anyway.
He distinctly remembered Noli calling their partnership together divine. Holding it at a sacred level. Him retreating to his old ways to find his son, the very thing that split the two apart, would be trampling on the seal of those sacred memories, sure. Was he jealous? Jealous that Seven wouldn’t pick all this back up for him, but for the thing that he hated? It all seemed to come out of nowhere. It was rather overwhelming.
Exhaling heavily, Seven began to turn away. Shedletsky grabbed him by the shoulder just as he began to move away from him. “If what you say is true, I can only believe that we’re a team, whether I like it or not. You chose right, in telling me the truth.”
They simply stared at each other. Seven had nothing to say.
“We already know each other, but I’ll introduce myself out of formality.” Shedletsky held a hand out. His fingertips were ashen and visibly callous, his disheveled sleeves rolled once around his wrist. Where scars had been torn in the black of the trenchcoat, a dark green fabric shown through. “Many people call me many things. You know me as Shedletsky, some might even dare to utter my name as 1x1x1x1. Many out there simply call me Hacklord. You are free to call me what you wish.”
Seven shakily accepted the hand, his own darkened fingertips softly meeting Shedletsky’s. “A pleasure to meet such a higher-up. 007n7, or whatever variation in there that feels nice. Call me whatever. I understand that it’s a mouthful.” He sheepishly smiled, holding his free hand behind his neck in an effort to alleviate the rampant burning sensation. What an awful situation.
The two of them moved to the large, spacious room in the middle of the cabin and found places to sit. Compared to the almost silent nature of Seven’s movement, Shedletsky’s footsteps were pounding, the chains that fell from the waist of his coat clattered, clanked, and scraped against the wooden floor. He was certainly a menacing force. The silence started to mess with Seven, if only slightly. He should be saying something. Sounding nice. The more you speak about nothing, the more likely people are to trust you. If you aren’t speaking, it sends a message that you don’t like the current situation or people, or have something to hide.
Of course, Seven didn’t take a liking to this situation whether it was real or not. He was fighting back the worst of anxious thoughts, his fear of his own mortality, fear over C00lkidd, it was completely overwhelming. Every time Shedletsky started to speak, Seven had to try his hardest to listen and retain the information said to him. Had to stutter through on the spot improvisations. He was barely willing to speak to an admin, ex-admin or not, especially one that had dealt with him at his… would you call it, 2nd worst? Even if Shedletsky was always so nice back then, so charming, even when he was so rude and distrusting back, he seemed to have never lost that in himself. God forbid he ask about what happened! He’d rather leave the cabin all together than risk a fight.
What was he even thinking? All of this stalling, these thoughts, in an empty, tense room. Shedletsky must be convinced there’s something up. The back of his throat, his mind, they all told him to say something, anything.
Right! About the whole “meddling rascals outside” thing. The killing. He’d gotten so wrapped up in his own supposed death that he’d forgotten about the killing thing.
Seven cleared his throat, Shedletsky looking up in an instant. “So, about the whole… Other team thing. What is our goal? When will it happen?”
“The person orchestrating all this likes to pit us against each other. They don’t have many defenses. Your goal is to kill them all. Wipe the area.”
Seven shivered at the thought. He didn’t really like mindless killing. “Do we, uh, have to kill them all? Especially if they don’t have a good defense system?”
Shedletsky let out another chilling exhale. “If you don’t, they’ll make you, put restrictions on you, control you. If you do, you’ll get a bonus.”
Seven couldn’t help but openly frown. This was outright cruel. At least he didn’t know the others, that would make it even harder.
He hoped.
“What even put us here? Do we know?” He looked at his fingers, glowing red with the anticipation of maximizing the GUI. “Is there a way to leave?”
Shedletsky snorted. “What do you think?” He rested his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands, chains rattling. “We’re dead men, 7n7. Even if we could leave, which I can only guess you’ve already tried, where would we go? Our houses, our things, our lives, they’ve been demolished already.”
Seven breathed slightly quicker. “You can’t say that for certain.”
Shedletsky barked out a laugh. "Well, you remember that dagger, and I remember when I was stabbed. I think I know we’re dead.” He let the laugh die in the air, his large, pessimistic grin fading to a simple smile. “It’s just that you don’t want to believe it. You want to think that you are the exception. It’s such a fantastical scenario we’ve been placed in, you think it couldn’t possibly be real.”
Seven was crushed. He couldn’t let go that easily. He wasn’t dead. There’s no way the very man he valued most killed him. He couldn’t be. He definitely didn’t feel dead. The marks were there, but he didn’t feel like it. If he were dead, would he ever see C00lkidd again?
What if this was on purpose?
He felt his eyes start to water, but looked up to hold it from falling. He wouldn’t be caught dead crying in front of the Shedletsky. He was a mess. This was awful. All of this was so, so awful. After a few moments of tightly clamping his jaw to stop the tears and ground himself, Seven looked at Shedletsky.
“I want to hold out hope. Hope that I can still find my…” He stopped, mid-sentence. It felt like he was losing air. He thought he might drop on the spot, but held it together long enough.
“Woah, woah. No, please, not now…” Shedletsky’s voice softened as he stood, grabbing Seven by the shoulders in an attempt to steady him.
“Wh… what? What’s going… On?” Seven felt like his mouth wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted it to. He tried to keep his eyelids open, but even the meager lights in the cabin hurt. He was getting dizzier by the second.
“They’re pulling you to the fight.”
Seven inhaled shakily. “What do I… do?”
Shedletsky couldn’t help but grab him by the chin to prove his point.
“Kill them all, no matter what it takes.”