Chapter Text
The first thing he felt was not the sheer impact and squish of falling from hundreds of feet in the air onto a concrete-laden street, but instead a much softer, much more unpleasant nothing. It was like he had never impacted anything at all, and he had simply continued to fall, though he could definitely see that his body had stopped its motion downwards.
Everything was dark around him, and yet he knew he had not simply entered into a formless void. The shape of the ‘floor’ beneath him, however ethereal it felt, was nonetheless perceivable through that feeling. He could see himself, faintly, when he peered his head closer to either of his appendages or his neck, so he knew he had not gone blind.
And so he sat, and he waited.
And he continued to sit, and he continued to wait.
And on,
And on,
And on.
For what felt like hundreds - no, thousands - of years, Omori sat in that field of nothing, only entertaining himself by turning over and over into different positions and bodily entanglements. His own thoughts were nowhere near as amusing as how it felt to curl up his limbs into a pretzel.
He first noticed that something was changing when his field of vision suddenly erupted in a pearl white inferno that seemed to scald his retinas into the surface of the sun. It took a good five minutes for his vision to even begin to resettle, at which point he realized that a small and dimly lit fire had just sprung up between him and…. A certain newcomer.
“Sunny?” Her voice rang out, raspy and gritty from ages of forgetting what sounds even sounded like.
Omori flinched, but he otherwise let out no other sign of emotion. He simply turned his head up to face the figure eye-to-eye, his dead expression meeting her confused - and woefully, foolishly hopeful - look.
“Hi…. Mari.”
“Sunny!” She rushed over to Omori with open arms and tears already bubbling up in her eyes. Only a couple seconds had passed before she had made it to him, nearly crushing him with a massive embrace that must’ve felt like the pinnacle of heaven to Mari…. It was just too bad that Omori didn’t feel much at all. This didn’t seem to be his Mari, after all.
Still, it was a Mari. And, technically, it was the Mari that Omori had the most memories of, the same quantity as Sunny, in fact.
In truth, Omori shared many similarities with Sunny. By and large, they shared the same memories and broadly similar interests and hobbies- they shared many of the same emotional tics and switches, even as Omori’s emotional range was…. Rather limited.
There was, however, one fairly significant difference between Omori and Sunny.
Sunny had killed Mari. Omori had not.
In fact, Omori had begun existing in one form or another in the immediate days following the entire incident. It made him pleased to consider himself as a consequence to be innocent in the crimes committed by his former host- an impartial third party that could properly judge Sunny Suzuki and dole out his worthy punishment.
It was a comforting fantasy, but one Omori knew was less than totally accurate. His existence, no matter whatever feelings he may have had on the matter, was predicated on “protecting” the Dreamer from the Truth, no matter what. It had been his raison d’être, and he had succeeded, at the very least, in insulating Sunny from the consequences he would surely face had he succeeded in his futile struggle.
In a way, Omori knew he was less of a person in his own right and more of a reflection of the Dreamer’s desire to die. What emotions he could muster up were reflections of Sunny’s own emotions, both conscious and subconscious in nature.
But what happens to a reflection when the visage itself disappears?
“I- You-“ Mari sputtered out those words, unable to properly comprehend what was happening. It was a testament to her quick thinking that it only took a few seconds for her to realize something of particular importance.
“You’re… Here,” she said, her voice having become completely flat, almost defeated in tone, “With me… Meaning…. You’re dead.”
It was like those words flipped a magic switch in Mari’s mind, her despondency and melancholy shifting almost entirely into pure, sizzling fury.
“You… Sunny…. Why? I was waiting for so long,” Her voice trembled with impertinent rage, “I thought… I thought you were going to forgive yourself…”
“He never had the capacity for that,” Omori stated plainly, “Your words were pointless in the end.”
“Don’t, just- don’t,” Mari grit her teeth in visible agony and frustration.
“Don’t what?” He asked innocently.
“Don’t pretend! Stop it!” She shouted, stamping her feet down like a stressed-out child, “Stop pretending you’re someone- something else! You’re Sunny!”
He blinked, then turned his gaze downwards in contemplation.
“I am not Sunny,” Omori insisted, “Perhaps I was once him - a part of him. But now he is dead, and I am still here. That’s obvious enough, right?”
That wasn’t entirely true. Sunny wasn’t dead- well, he was, but so were Omori and Mari. No, Sunny had merely been consumed and overcome by the part of his mind that housed Omori, which in some ways was considerably worse than simply dying. If, as it seemed now, the afterlife existed, Sunny wouldn’t even be able to enjoy an eternal rest. He was simply…. Gone.
“And,” Omori continued, ignoring Mari’s frankly disgusted glare, “My outlook on the world, my mentality, and my personality are all very different compared to what Sunny was. It’d just be wrong to refer to myself as him, nor would I ever want to continue to associate myself with his identity. He…. I dislike him.”
His expression darkened at that thought. Omori had been created to protect Sunny, but with that purpose fulfilled, his true emotions concerning his creator could finally be more truly expressed.
And Omori hated Sunny. He hated him like he had never hated anyone else in his life - because, truly enough, Omori didn’t. When it came to anyone that wasn’t Sunny, Omori’s emotions ranged from passively positive to aggressively neutral. Even his enemies in Headspace failed to provoke much of a true reaction from Omori now, seeing as they were all constructions of the Dreamer’s own subconscious.
He’d failed Mari.
He’d killed Mari.
He’d hanged Mari.
He ruined his friends.
It was unforgivable, what he did, so utterly unforgivable. Someone like that wasn’t even human, not really. Sunny was more like a demon, a monstrous abomination that brought misery and suffering wherever it trod.
“I refuse this,” Mari continued to mutter, ignoring Omori’s direct gaze, “He’s not gone. It’s just not possible.”
“See for yourself,” Omori retorted, not really willing any longer to indulge in her delusions.
“No, Sunny! I promise, no matter what, I’m getting you back!” She nearly screamed into his ears, “I’m not letting you go- not again!”
“Not…. not again….”
Her words faded away as the two of them continued to simply stand in the eternal darkness, continuing to hold each other in an awkward and uncomfortable embrace.
That is, until the familiar blackness surrounding them began to…. Thicken. No longer was it an invisible ether that had enveloped them both, it was now more akin to a liquid, nearly opaque fluid.
Water, Omori realized. We’re… Surrounded by water?
Almost instinctively, Omori tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, though he gave up on that once he noticed Mari not undergoing the same effort. Cheekily, he remembered that he was dead.
Or was he?
Nearly all of the pitch blackness was gone now, revealing what appeared to be sallow water grass gripped to the gravelly floor, a few faint visages of fish dawdling by as well.
Omori stared at Mari, who did the same back.
“What’s going on?” Mari asked, panicked beyond belief.
“I… I do not know,” Omori admitted, then realizing that both of them could speak as normal, even when seemingly underwater like this.
Is this Blackspace? Or a version of it?
Then, Omori saw him.
It appeared almost like an adrift bag or pile of debris, gentling sinking down to the lake bed. But once it got closer, Omori could tell that this was a person- a young boy.
Sunny Suzuki.
Omori knew exactly then that this was some sort of vision - indeed a version of Blackspace. And so, in order to escape, he had to kill himself…
No, he had to kill him.
Omori smiled.
Never had there ever been an easier task for him to fulfill.
He lunged after the falling near-corpse, bursting out from the ground with surprising agility and speed, though Mari was still right there, increasingly alarmed and apparently stationary. He barely had a chance to muse on the implications of that fact, when Sunny grew close enough for him to stab with his tentacles and-
Wait, tentacles?
Indeed, Omori seemed to have… Changed in some regards since he’d last gotten a good look at his body. In the place of his limbs, there was now a mass of swirling, almost shadowy tentacles that seemed to emanate from every spot on his body.
Strange.
It wasn’t important at the moment, Omori decided. What was important was getting his newly discovered appendages to pierce the heart of that drowning boy.
His tentacles made contact.
And then everything burned.
The moment he brushed against the mere woven white cloth of the boy’s shirt, his whole body recoiled, first in shock - as if a bolt of lightning had cascaded through the water and surged directly through every vein and organ in his body. Then, the sheer feeling of being stunned swiftly transitioned into a vile, enervating sense of pain and agony that coursed throughout every single nerve cell that might’ve existed on this strange, eldritch form he found himself it.
Pain. The mere word seemed almost laughable, pitiful for what Omori was feeling at that moment.
At that moment.
When another moment passed, and the pain just got so much worse, Omori wisely chose then to let go of the body- or so he thought. As he frantically and desperately receded from Sunny, he noticed that there were absolutely no imprints of Omori’s presence or markings of any pretense at harm done to the boy. It was as if Omori had hit some strange, amorphous barrier before actually making contact with Sunny proper.
It was lucky he had broken off when he had, as soon afterwards another form burst in from up above, sending a geyser of foam into elevation. Her willowy form gracefully flowed towards the sinking body, grasping him in a near-embrace as she ascended once more.
Omori grimaced. Why am I remembering this now?
Despite his better judgement, Omori slowly and methodically followed Sunny’s course upwards, making sure to stay out of both his and Mari’s line of sight. Eventually, after they broke the surface, Omori waited until they had fully left the lake before tentatively sticking a small tentacle out of the water. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew it would work - was it instinct? - but he could nonetheless hear the conversation occurring above him.
“God- Sunny! Sunny, please be okay! Sunny!”
“Sunny?”
“Mari, is Sunny alright!”
“…. M-Mari?”
“Sunny!”
“Sunny, Sunny- I’m so relieved! Thank God!”
“Sunny’s okay, everyone!”
Omori sighed. As he had suspected, this was the memory of the time when Sunny had nearly drowned in the lake, before ironically being saved by Mari. It was truly a pity that the boy hadn’t died right then and there - it would’ve been so perfect. But alas-
“Um, hey… What’s that in the water?”
“Huh? Looks like a snake… Or garbage? Or poop!”
“Ew! Hero, it’s wriggling!”
In sheer reactionary panic, Omori swiftly submerged his tentacle back into the water, contrary thoughts now racing through his mind.
“Oh! It’s gone…. That’s a shame, I wanted to take a picture of it!”
“We can look for it again tomorrow, Basil. Let’s go back! I don’t want Sunny to get any colder…”
Omori tried to collect himself on the lake bed, but he was admittedly in a state of extreme distress.
“Well, well, well,” a rather imposing voice started saying beside him, far too smugly for her own good. “Looks like you failed- couldn’t even manage to lay a single gross, squishy tentacle on him!”
“Sunny is still dead, you know,” Omori monotoned, picking at the sand underneath him with a fallen log - had he gotten stronger as well? - “This is all…. A vision. A memory.”
“A memory?” Mari asked, skeptically, “Do your memories often end up like this? Because I was there you know- and nobody was talking about seeing a writhing mass of tentacles on the lake.”
She took a deeper breath, though of course it meant nothing, “I don’t know how… But we’ve managed to go back in time.”
Omori’s eyes widened at the realization, “Which means…”
Mari nodded in excitement, “Which means…”
“The recital,” they both uttered.
“Oh, he needs to die,” Omori muttered, grinning from eldritch ear to eldritch ear.
“Oh no you don’t,” Mari snarled, her too with a sickeningly smug smile, “You can’t even touch him! Whoever or whatever brought us here, they obviously don’t want him dead.”
“Hmm….” Omori considered that for a few moments, “Regrettably, you may be correct.”
“You don’t need to kill him, you know,” Mari pointed out, “There are a million and one ways we can stop that recital from going through-“
“Not happening,” Omori said, flatly.
“Why?”
“If Sunny is allowed to carry on his life as he is, he will inevitably cause some problem later down the line,” Omori laid out, annoyed that Mari of all people couldn’t understand this simple fact of the universe, “It’s in his nature, as such a grossly flawed individual. Sooner or later, he’s bound to hurt the people he claims to love. The best way to avoid this is to change him, as a person. The recital is the best opportunity for this.”
Mari seemed to be at a loss for words at this point, resorting to staring at Omori with a bit of an incredulous, defiant look. But it didn’t matter in the end- nothing she did from now on would. Omori was secured now; he once again had a mission to devote himself to.
The only question was… How would he go about it?
He struggled against the murky depths, his own lungs betraying him as they heaved for nonexistent air.
He tried to scream out, to yell for help… But none came.
As the last sparkles of light from the surface dwindled into nothing, and as he sank into colder and colder waters, Sunny could see his field of vision fading away.
The last thing he saw was a massive, shadowy abomination on the lake bed, staring right up at him, its writhing tentacles squirming about, anxious to find prey to latch onto.
They surged forth with the speed of a bullet-
Sunny woke up in a cold sweat, the back of his Captain Spaceboy pajamas soaking up all the moisture and creating a visible wet spot on his bed. He curled up into himself, shoving his arms into his shirt as he attempted to cuddle his stuffed penguin for warmth.
That day had been…. Terrifying, to say the least. Not just because of the fact that he would’ve drowned had it not been for Mari - she still was wary of letting him even near that lake - but also because of the vile, unholy creation he could’ve sworn attacked him while he was under. He’d been near inconsolable for hours just because of that sight, but he was ultimately incapable of telling Mari or any of his friends about what he’d seen. It’d…. They’d just laugh at him, he knew that. It was silly to pretend like there was a big, scary monster under the water- he knew that already. Despite the teasing from his friends about being a “baby,” Sunny knew quite confidently that monsters weren’t real.
And how would Mari react? Maybe she’d be worried that Sunny was seeing things and tell their mom to send him to a doctor. Sunny hated doctors; they were just so scary - though not as scary as shadow lake monsters - with their shiny metal contraptions that looked like ancient torture devices. Sunny’s greatest wish - besides for Aubrey to reciprocate his feelings, of course - was for Hero to never give in to his parents and go down the premed path in college. That would be a terrible day, not just for Hero but for the whole human race.
Sunny pursed his lips in concern, then glanced at his bedroom door. He…. He really did want to go over to Mari’s room and sneak into her bed for some comfort, like he used to do. But things were different now, right? He was a big kid- and the thing he was scared of wasn’t even real. So it didn’t matter.
He sighed and forced himself to lie down back onto the bed. He wasn’t quite as sleepy as he needed to be anymore, so he attempted the tried and tested method of naming out things he could see in his bedroom until he got bored or fell asleep.
Goodnight, table lamp.
Goodnight, closet door.
Goodnight, stuffed penguin.
Goodnight, ominous black shadow monster.
Goodnight, windowsill.
Like a flash of lightning, a dark tendril shot forth from the abyss of his bedroom to come precariously close to Sunny’s chest and forehead, a clear act of threatening nature. Sunny suddenly felt the urge to stay absolutely still.
“…. Sunny Suzuki….” A horrible, unnatural sounding voice snarled out from the darkness.
Sunny couldn’t speak- he didn’t know what this thing wanted from him. Would answering the voice somehow give it access to his soul? Would not answering it be even worse? He was truly and utterly terrified-
It’s not as scary as you think.
Somehow, Mari’s words reached him even then, even now. He slowly but surely nodded at the monster, careful not to be too slow with his movements.
“You…. Are a most peculiar child,” the monster continued, “So weak. Pathetic. Worthless in every way.”
Sunny winced. The monster wasn’t exactly wrong, but it still stung to have it said out loud.
“I-I unders-stand, s-sir, I,” Sunny stuttered out, before being interrupted with a booming cadence.
“Liar. You know nothing of the consequences of your weakness. Your weakness will ruin not just your life, but the lives of everyone around you. Everyone you care for, everyone you love - your weakness will destroy them all. Especially Mari.”
Somehow, the fact that the monster knew Mari’s name frightened Sunny much more than him knowing his own.
“Do you want to prevent this future from coming to pass? Or will you allow it to destroy everything you claim to care for?”
Sunny grimaced, but his anxiety had already begun working overtime to produce haunting images of all the ways he could fail his friends and loved ones with his characteristic lack of perfection. This…. This was entirely believable to him.
“I….. What do you want?” Sunny demanded, “How can I…. Make things better?”
“Your violin,” the monster almost seemed to smile at that word, “I expect you’d have it by now?”
That? Sunny was near flabbergasted at this strange, eldritch being’s interest in his newly acquired violin of all things. Nevertheless, he attempted to stay genuine.
“Yes, I do have it.”
“Good. And the recital? I expect it has already been scheduled?”
“Yes, yes it has.”
“In that case, I want you to listen to me carefully…”
What exactly have I been doing up until now?
“You will master that violin. You will do it if it takes you every hour of every day of every week of every month until that recital arrives. You will be perfect, or you will be dead.”
“Understand?”
Sunny momentarily closed and his eyes and began to wonder if this was all just one horrible, bizarre dream. Unfortunately, Sunny knew that even he lacked the imagination for something like this. He glanced back at the monster’s visage, now being clearer than ever. It resembled…. A strange, amorphous sea urchin, with tentacles instead of spikes. It boasted multiple beady red eyes, all staring intently and greedily at Sunny’s form. It was so hypnotic and alluring that Sunny almost missed the faintly shrill, feminine cries emanating from the creature’s side.
Almost.
“I understand,” Sunny let out a deep breath he didn’t even know he had been holding in.
“So, where do we start?”