Chapter Text
[Pan]
“Agh- just… why can’t I do it?” Pan is standing in her apartment bathroom with a pocket knife in her hands, glaring at the mirror.
She’s placed it under one of her horns, wanting to saw it down to a nub. However, she had a bad feeling about it. “Biograft- is it safe to cut my horns?”
Biograft turns to her from their spot on the hammock, and their fans kick up in shock. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING.”
”Cutting my horns? I need them to be shorter.” Biograft scrambles out of their seat and yank the knife away from her hand. “Hey!”
”THAT WAS DANGEROUS. YOUR HORNS HAVE NERVES AND BLOOD VESSELS.” Frying Pan pales at that. “DOING SO WOULD LEAD TO PAIN, SHOCK, BLOOD LOSS, AND INFECTION.”
Pan lets out a relieved exhale. “Oh god- I’m so sorry. I just-“ She chews on her lip. “I wanted them shorter.”
The real reason why she wanted them to be so was tactical- she wanted to be able to put on fake horns to conceal her identity, just in case she needed to run. Pan knew that her behavior was getting suspicious and erratic over time- partly because of her new acting skills and partly because… she didn’t know the other reason.
”WELL, YOU CAN ONLY SHAVE OFF THE TIPS IF THEY GROW TOO LARGE.” Biograft makes her sit down and gently start whittling down her horns from the ends down.
Pan sits there, making a hum of approval and thanks.
”I… have to go to Blackrock to get my lenses repaired, Biograft.” They freeze up mid-scrape, their hands stilling. “I don’t want you to get discovered… or worse, hurt. Can you stay home and guard my apartment, please?”
”YOU ARE WALKING INTO DANGER.” Biograft knew that if Pan went to Blackrock alone, she would be safer since they would not be around to have their sentience discovered. But… they wanted to protect her.
”… I know, Biograft.” She gives a gentle smile. “I’m going to temporarily dye my horns and cover up my markings- I’ve even got the materials to do it.”
And she was right- Pan had bought a navy-blue horn dye and some cosmetic white face paint. She’d even gone onto the internet, looked at pictures of Blackrock uniforms, and bought clothes that looked similar enough to modify.
Biograft finishes up the horn-carving and she gives them a hug. “Thanks, Biograft.” They nod. “IT IS MY PLEASURE TO HELP, PAN.”
The next hour consisted of a shower, horn-waxing and dyeing them, putting on the face paint- she made herself more presentable, looking and smelling like an affluent, powerful demon. Pan ironed the clothes out and neatly put them on, staring at herself in the mirror.
She was wearing the same hoodie- but if she took it off, it would reveal a crisp, black suit and tie with gold buttons and lapels. There was even a fake officer’s cap and sunglasses tucked into her duffel bag with her laptop and cracked glasses, to be put on the moment she went into Blackrock. A fake Baton hung at her side, acting as her false gear.
And what tied together her outfits were the heavy, black steel-tipped boots she wore. They had cost her a few hundred Bux to even find online, and were the biggest ‘weapon’ in her arsenal.
“YOU LOOK CONVINCING, PAN.” Biograft complimented, tilting their head to get a good look at her disguise. “AUTHORITATIVE, POWERFUL.”
She nods. “Yes- but that’s only a fraction of what it means to look convincing. What I need to do the most…” Pan pulls out her headphones, and sets her laptop to a comfortable but loud volume.
”Is to get in character. ”
The next hour- to Biograft’s confusion- Pan spent in her closet. Inside, she reviewed her script and character analysis of Subspace (because she had a feeling fate would lead her to him anyways, knowing she was an isekai protagonist). She blasted aggressive music into her headphones, strutted around the small floor and kept her head held high, checking her posture in the mirror.
She had no show no shame in doing it, no weakness- because the moment she acted like she didn’t belong, any Blackrock soldier or citizen would see through her ruse.
”I am Inspector Police Baton, here on behalf to assess your contribution to Blackrock.” Her voice is low, sturdy and unamused. “How has your day been going?” She states into the mirror.
Frying Pan spends a few more minutes adjusting her posture and revising her backstory, and then steps out of the closet a completely new person.
She nods to Biograft sternly. “I will be heading out now. Take care.” Her facade slips only the briefest of seconds for her friend, but it’s enough to make them understand.
”UNDERSTOOD, PAN.”
She goes out of her apartment, and takes the nearest taxi to Blackrock.
[Subspace]
He just couldn’t make progress on the conceptual weapon!
Subspace was a demon of many talents- a great inventor, and even greater scientist- but he couldn’t figure it out. He graduated from the top university in Blackrock with flying colors, with a master’s degree in Chemistry, along with bachelors’ in Robotics and Software Engineering. He was a damn genius.
Then WHAT is the problem that I’m dealing with?! He growled, letting out some poison gas and snapping the chalk in his claws.
Subspace had holed himself up in his lab, spending all of his research hours writing notes and ideas on how a bomb was possible with atoms.
(It was a relief that science in Blackrock, no matter how advanced it was, did not progress to Earth’s degree of knowledge on nuclear power. Subspace was missing several decades’ worth of research to make it possible, and he was never really good at the sub-atomic level of chemistry…)
The scientist gave a snarl and threw down his paper on one of his counters. “ Fine. I might as well clear my head- get some ideas.”
He sulks out of his lab and the facility, taking a walk down one of the few commercial centers in Blackrock. The place was near-empty, with only a few demons meandering about to buy groceries or get services.
Subspace is so occupied with his thinking, in fact, that he runs directly into someone with a coffee cup. The drink spills on his uniform, and his temper flares up.
At first, he doesn’t see anyone, but looks down. His anger simmers down a bit to a twinge of surprise as he sees the unamused, scowling face of a military official.
She’s incredibly short, for Blackrock standards. There’s a certain plumpness to her- indicating that she was a wealthy individual, most likely related to a higher-up if she could afford an excess of food. The base of her horns peek out from under her military cap.
”Scientist Subspace T. Mine. How… pleasant to see you.” Her voice is calm and collected, but there’s a certain irritation to it. “Care to explain why you are not at your lab?”
He gives a flourish and adopts a sickly-sweet tone, trying to suck up to her. “Of course- I was simply trying to clear my mind. You see, I have a potentially game-changing weapon in the works…”
She nods, her eyes narrowing. “And may I see that weapon, then?” His eye narrows back in glee. “Of course you may! Miss…”
She gives Subspace a glare so offended that it makes him falter for a millisecond. “ Inspector Police Baton. Do not address an official as “Miss” or “Mister”, Subspace.”
Well. That explains her rank. From the way her boots thumped loudly as she walked to the stern reprimand, she must be higher in rank than him. If that was the case, he could use her influence to pitch his ideas favorably to the higher-ups.
”Of course, Inspector Baton.” She gives a slow nod, her expression turning to impartial acknowledgement.
The ‘inspector’ turns toward him while he walks back to the lab, trailing behind him. She gives a hum. “You know, we’ve actually been sent to assess your work ethic and progress towards Blackrock’s innovations so far, Subspace.”
A slight twinge of uneasiness goes down his spine, but it’s easily replaced by his overconfident ego. “Oh? Is that so? I thought I was already the top scientist in Blackrock.”
”Yes- but you are still an asset, no matter how valuable. And we oversee all assets and ensure their efficiency.” She gives an uninterested look at her own claws while they get on the elevator and ride up to his lab.
Subspace simply grits his teeth and goes to walk down the hallway, opening it up. “Ladies first, Inspector Baton.”
She walks into the lab.
The whole place is covered head to toe in papers, equipment, textbooks- it’s all a mess, but it’s a mess that’s expected from a scientist like him. Subspace gives a maniacal grin.
”And this is where the magic happens! What do you think?” The inspector is quiet, and her voice is stern. “Where is your progress, Subspace?”
He gives a wry grin. “Well- it’s simply in the conceptual stage now. But imagine- a bomb so powerful that it can wipe out a city! The power of the atom, right at your fingertips!”
[Pan]
No. No no no no no- Frying Pan was freaking out, her facade so close to cracking. But she stands still, letting Subspace’s rambling flow over her and compartmentalizing the situation.
I did this. I gave him the idea with my video. Because with little to no research on the atom and it’s properties, the only reason he would have had that idea was if he watched the history video she posted. The only relief (no matter how small) was that the mention was so vague he didn’t seem to get how to make an atom bomb.
I… I alone am responsible for this. I must take responsibility. Frying Pan discreetly balls up her hands into fists, then unclenches them. I need to discourage him. Killing him won’t work, as the idea is already out and any other demon can continue it. Deleting my video is pointless because there’s already reuploads and it would make it even more suspicious.
I need to scare him. Stall the progress until the another faction gets the memo and starts developing bombs too- a Cold War is better than a war where only Blackrock has the atom bomb.
Whatever it takes.
She turns to Subspace, quietly takes a deep breath, and slips into character again when he’s turning away, rambling.
”So… what you mean to say is that this is a concept . Not a concrete plan, not an actual weapon- a concept.”
He laughs it off, but Pan catches how his eye twitches for a second. “Well- yes! But think of the possibilities! If I can discover the secrets of the atom and-“
”So you don’t know how to build it.” Pan steps forward once, her boot deliberately stomping down with an intimidating thunk. “You mean to tell me you called me up here… to talk about a possibility. One that you do not know about.”
Subspace’s hands fly up, pointing to his work. But he doesn’t get angry or lash out like Pan expects- Good. That means he actually thinks I’m a higher rank, and is afraid of hurting me.
“But you have to understand! This is a miraculous possibility! One that can change the fate fo warfare itself!” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice as he pitches the idea.
Pan has an idea. A cruel idea, but nonetheless a brilliant idea on how to both stop the progress of the bomb and scare Subspace into submission.
”The higher ups do not care about ‘possibilities’, Subspace.” She levels a cold, hard glare at him. “We care about results . Hard, concrete proof- and you do not have that.” She uses ‘we’ deliberately, to associate herself with the higher-ups and make Subspace feel like he’s against multiple people instead of one.
”B-but, I-!” She cuts him off again with a slam of her fist on the table, and Subspace jumps. “From what I’ve read in your files, Subspace Trip Mine- your specialization is chemistry and robotics. What would a chemist know about physics? About quantum theory?”
He visibly wilts, not knowing how to justify that.
Frying Pan, acting as Inspector Police Baton, decides to lean more into a cold, ruthless persona. After all, aren’t batons involved in police brutality? She won’t physically hurt him, but…
”Perhaps you forget your place.” Pan slowly steps forward, tapping her baton in her other hand. Her heavy footsteps echo throughout the small lab, making Subspace take one step back. Two steps back.
”You are a scientist , Subspace. A renowned one, yes- but still a scientist.” Frying Pan closes her eyes and smiles deceptively soft. “Blackrock prioritizes our glorious leaders and soldiers, first and foremost.”
She knows demons function kind of like cats- long blinks were a sign of trust and vulnerability. But when used it juxtaposition with her threats, it seemed like she was deliberately showing weakness to taunt . It worked- Subspace instinctively pulled back in confusion and fear.
“Your efforts exist to further Blackrock and nothing else, scientist. You are here on our dime, you follow our orders.” She spreads her hands, her smile turning into a sneer. “And what do we find you doing, but wasting time on such baseless research?”
”I-It’s not baseless, I swear-!” She cracks the baton down on the desk. “DID I TELL YOU TO SPEAK?!”
Subspace skittered back, his self-preservation overwhelming his ego and pride. She quickly switches back to her calm persona.
”Now- you go back to improving your crystals and chemical weapons. You go back to developing the next models of Biograft soldiers for our armies.”
The magenta-horned scientist nods slowly, terrified.
But… I cannot stop at that. I need him to REALLY be turned away from developing the atom bomb- who’s to say he won’t do it on his free time?
Pan keeps her eyes on Subspace, circling him like a shark with her baton in her hands. … I have an idea.
“Now that you understand your next course of action, Subspace- I might as well speak about the true purpose behind my visit.” Subspace seems to twitch in shock. “That… wasn’t your main reason?”
Frying Pan scoffs and twirls the baton. “No. That was the cursory check-up on you and your antics , scientist. The true reason behind this visit is much more… interesting.”
She gives a sickly sweet smile. “What have you heard about Medkit? Your former co-worker?”
Subspace seems to relax, thinking that the inspector was going to direct her rage to the former Blackrock scientist instead of him. “Yes- the traitor. Quite the shame- he’s the one who made me like this.”
”Yes, quite the shame indeed. His crystals would have been revolutionary.” Frying Pan says nonchalantly. Subspace’s ego kicks in a bit, and he can’t help but ask: “ His crystals?”
Frying Pan nods. “Our current troops have such a hard time accessing medical care- and a portable source would have been incredibly helpful. In addition to that, cheap healing would mean more resources allocated towards weapons instead of maintiaining troops.”
Subspace pauses for a second, not sure how to respond without conceding to his ego or insulting his ‘superior’. “…Yes, a shame.” He settles for echoing her.
Frying Pan continues. “And those healing properties- the higher ups were especially interested in them. After all, healing is only a step away from anti-aging and restorative properties. Long live Blackrock, of course.”
Subspace is starting to grow agitated, sweating a bit. “Get to the point.”
Frying Pan goes completely silent, staring at him with wide eyes. She doesn’t blink, ominously staring until he realizes that it was because he dared to order her around. “S-sorry, Inspector Baton.”
The silence continues for a bit, then she softly smiles. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Of course. Apology accepted.”
Subspace has to wait patiently while she continues. “You know… some new information has come to light about Medkit. About how he assaulted you, and fled Blackrock.”
The mad scientist can’t help but let out a laugh. “Oh, joy! You’ve finally found his whereabouts, correct?”
”Not exactly.” Pan turns around and gives him that same faux-sweet smile and eyes closed cutely. “Did you know the inspector corps and higher-ups have access to all security footage in Blackrock?”
That’s partially true- they get all the clearance they want, and can easily look at any footage from any camera because of their clearance. Subspace freezes, a chill going down his body. “A-and? What about it, inspector?”
Pan hums, smiling. “And we have them everywhere in our government facilities. Training halls, barracks, offices… laboratories. All of them.”
Subspace is smart enough to grasp the implication. “ No.”
She grins. “ Yes. Did you really think we didn’t back up all our systems, Subspace? Did you really think you could hack in, delete footage of your own lab, and get away with it?”
Frying Pan’s voice is a whisper, but she’s grinning like a feral dog.
” Did you think we wouldn’t find out what you did to Medkit? ”
[Subspace]
He’s never been as terrified for his life as he is now, in this very moment.
It’s only one demon- someone far shorter and smaller than him. But it was what she represented that scared him shitless: the consequences of his actions.
He’d lied to the higher-ups about Medkit’s betrayal- he framed it as Medkit being the aggressor, that he was plotting Blackrock’s demise and colluding with other factions. And lying to the council was bad, but what was worse was-
He’s been caught red-handed now.
The inspector made a point to note how useful they found Medkit’s crystal- how it would have expedited healing for troops and improved logistics. She even made time to note how the higher-ups wanted it to better themselves and prolong their lives.
He was so, so screwed.
Inspector Police Baton walked towards him slowly. The heavy thumps of her boots sounded like a death march, like a soldier leading him to his execution.
”Assulting your fellow comrade and scientist, depriving Blackrock of an invaluable source, lying to the glorious leaders themselves…” She snarls and grins hungrily. “That sounds like treason of the highest order, don’t you think? Much worse than your claims against Medkit.”
Subspace couldn’t even speak, scrambling backwards. He bumped up against his wall, on the opposite side of the door. She’s cornering me in my own lab. My own territory. It only made her more terrifying and powerful.
“And you know what the punishment for such treason is, right?” She croons. Subspace shivers, too afraid to answer.
”RIGHT?!” He yelps and lowers himself on the wall, looking up so his horns point backward in fear and submission.
”Y-yes, Inspector Baton.” She gives that damned smile again. “Recite them to me.”
Subspace gulps, trying not to choke on his own poison spit. “S-stripping me of my rank, torture, p-public execution by firing squad.”
The small inspector hums, her face deceptively serene. “That’s right.”
He stays silent, letting her mull over his punishment. Inspector Baton steps in front of him. “You are very fortunate that the higher-ups find you… inconvenient to replace.”
Subspace lets out a nervous chuckle. “I-is that so?” He prays to the deities that he’d be spared.
The inspector laughs, her voice tinged with sadism. “Of course ! In fact… it’s actually not that inconvenient.” His heart drops. “We’ve got a lot of ambitious, talented graduates from Blackrock university, and very few open positions in the science division- why, we might replace you, then execute you!” She laughs harder.
”P-please. Please, oh gods, please-!” He’s reduced to begging to his life, his ego broken at the sheer terror he’s facing. “I won’t- I’ll do anything! I’ll make a better chemical weapon, I’ll build more Biografts, I’ll-!”
”But we don’t need you to do those things, do we?” She gives him a chilling stare, her eyes crinkling with delight at his desperation. “You gave us your blueprints and work as a part of your job- we can just make them on our own!”
”You won’t find anyone else like me! Only I can-!” The inspector cuts him off with her baton.
It’s the first time she actually hits him. Instead of aiming for his bad eye like most of his opponents do, she aims for his jaw. Subspace wheezes in pain as the rotted flesh down there cracks and folds beneath the steel baton. She was smart - and most likely had access to his file, knowing that he was weak on his entire throat, jaw, and one arm from crystal use.
She looms over him as he lays on his lab floor, the harsh light above her concealing her face in an uncanny, sadistic manner. “You are replaceable. Typical, pathetic- defective. ” The sudden jab at his condition makes him recoil.
Sure, injuries and disabilities at Blackrock were frowned upon- there was a heavy stigma against them. But that usually only applied to the lower classes- Subspace was so influential that nobody dared to comment on it.
Here was a demon outranking him, who’d just went into his own lab, made him confess his crimes, and beat him down. It made him feel weak. Pathetic. Terrified.
“We could replace you with a better scientist. One that isn’t rotting apart like a living corpse.” She grabs his weak arm with a firm grip, making him hiss and pull back in fear. “It’s a wonder we didn’t dispose of you the moment you showed symptoms, scientist.”
Subspace makes a throaty begging noise, his primal fear overwhelming any rationality and intelligence he had. She stomped closer, putting her boot on his hand.
The inspector perched on him like a hungry mutt, staring down at his downed body like she was going to rip it apart with her bare teeth. “So be a good little pawn- and do your job. You are nothing special.”
The inspector had slammed the lab door behind herself, leaving him to lie on the floor and breathe in and out, terror filling his veins.
His one good eye was blown wide, his hands trembling as he didn’t have the courage to even sit up. Her words echoed through his head like a mantra.
You are nothing special.
It made him sink deeper into the cold tile floor, his claws digging pathetically into the hard surface. His egotistical complex was completely shattered with the realization that yes- he was just a scientist.
He wasn’t a higher-up. He wasn’t even a famous soldier. He was just… a scientist. A weak, overconfident demon that let his wits get to his head and make him prideful.
In fact… where did his overconfidence even come from, anyway? He flexed the hand Inspector Baton had stepped on, looking at how the pink rot ate at his veins and left his arm a mangled state.
Subspace’ now knocked off his figurative pedestal and onto the literal floor, began to think. Not in the clever, calculated way that he did when he made discoveries or did work as a scientist- he thought about himself, and his flaws.
I… why did I act like that? To Medkit, to Hyperlaser, to everyone… was… was it because I was pathetic?
He laid there for two hours. He thought back to when he was a young demon and got his diagnosis, how he excelled through school and college, how he came to work with Medkit.
Subspace remembered how he’d laughed and haughtily brushed off his condition when it was diagnosed- and how willing he was to ignore it when it got much worse when he used the crystals on himself.
And when his condition got worse, he got… worse. Looking in from an outside point of view, Subspace finally saw how he’d been ecstatic despite being poisoned, how his actions got more uncaring and reckless leading up to his argument with Medkit.
It hit him. His disease did make him worse. It made him overcompensate with his ego for the fear of dying early, for the bottled-up resentment that he’d never get to live a normal life like everyone else.
The revaluation explained why he was overjoyed when his gear was modified and he could poison others, despite poisoning himself too- he wanted them to hurt like he did.
… Huh. He didn’t regret it yet but… the seed was planted there. I don’t care about Medkit but… could I have done so? Did I… have the capability to do so?
Later, the night shift janitor at his lab found him on the floor, and he had to get up and scuttle away, back to his house. How humiliating.
[Pan]
The ride back to Crossroads was quiet. She stuffed her hoodie back on to cover the fake uniform, rubbed off her face paint with some water to bring back her markings, and washed off the temporary dye in a public restroom with hot water.
Frying Pan walked back home in a similarly dissociative state, not even noticing the people around her. Her stare was just… blank.
”WELCOME BACK, PAN.” Biograft greeted her as she stepped back into her apartment, changing her uniform out to the somfy t-shirt and sweats she wore indoors. “WERE YOU OKAY?”
She stays quiet for a while, and Biograft gets worried. She finally responds with a distant voice.
”I… I’m sorry for not answering.” It was slow and steady, as if she were recovering from the tense acting and slipping back to her own sense of self. “I am fine- just… feeling kind of off because of the acting.”
”WHAT HAPPENED IN BLACKROCK?” They asked, worried. She holds up a finger as if to say ‘wait a minute’ to ask for time to recover a bit.
Pan stares at her own wall on her bed for a concerningly extended period of time. She still has those blurry eyes, as if trying to refocus but can’t.
”Biograft- can you please help me snap… out of it? I have some scented candles…” She trails off, pointing to her bathroom door. They listen to her, lighting the candle and placing it on the bed stand. It takes a while, but the strong scent of lavender brings her back to reality.
”Oh… oh god. I did that. ” Her right hand shakes, the one she used to hold the baton. “I- I hit him. I wasn’t supposed to…”
”PAN. YOUR CORTISOL LEVEL IS SPIKING- BREATHE.” Biograft places their cool aluminum hand on her shoulder. She takes their advice, breathing in and out. “YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TELL ME RIGHT AWAY.”
She grips her bedsheets, breathing slowly. “No- I… I have to. I need to process what I did.” Biograft stays quiet as she explains slowly.
”The plan- impersonating an inspector- it- it worked. A bit too well.” She shivers, disgusted at herself. “I scared Subspace, made him back down from a really dangerous idea- but I got too into character. I… I hit him with my baton. A-and I brought up his condition.”
Biograft stays quiet for a moment. “… IT IS OKAY. YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THAT YOU HAD A LAPSE IN JUDGEMENT.”
Frying Pan shrinks back. “No- I- you don’t get it. I lost myself there for a bit. I let that idea of power get to my head and…” She bites her lip, her eyes watery. “Even if Subspace is making chemical weapons and is a terrible demon, I shouldn’t have done that to him.”
”DID WHAT YOU DO TO HIM KILL HIM?” She jumps up, horrified. “No! I would never- I don’t think I can live with myself if I killed anybody!”
”THEN YOU DID YOUR BEST.” The robot rationalized, calming her down. “YOU FELT THAT YOU DID WHAT NEEDED TO BE DONE IN THE MOMENT- BUT NOW YOU CAN LOOK BACK AND NOT DO IT AGAIN.”
The former human nods, quiet.
Later, Biograft made note of their roommate’s talents. She was a gifted actor and could swap between identities and personalities flawlessly when given the time and resources. She could infiltrate Blackrock, impersonate a high-ranking official, and walk away scot-free.
But her facades had a catch, they noted. Pan always dissociated hard after getting too much into a role, and she could easily forget their own sense of identity.
They should prevent her from keeping a disguise up or hiding her true self for too long. If only a day of skillful impersonation affects her behavior and mental health that much, then what would it be like if she did that for weeks? Months?
It would have catastrophic results, if she bottled up those aspects of herself and spent excessive amounts of time pretending to be someone she’s not. Biograft would make sure their friend would not fall into that trap.
Little does Biograft know, she’s been keeping a facade for months on end, longer than they’ve been ‘alive’. Let’s hope nothing breaks it.
[Subspace] - Aftermath
Subspace was acting much more subdued than before.
His coworkers and underlings working at the lab were relieved he’d snapped out of that gleeful state- but they’re not sure if this is better or worse.
He didn’t gloat. He rarely declared himself the best or had that same self-centered energy to him anymore. Subspace didn’t even berate them or harass the scientists under his employ anymore.
In fact, they’d managed to complete a lot more work on the chemistry division with him around. Subspace finally stopped doing side projects and his research outside of his division and expertise. But… it was uncanny and unsettling.
Subspace worked like a man on death row, each movement methodical and precise as if he was afraid of messing up. He always had this nervous expression on his face- something as foreign as a heat wave in Blackrock.
I cannot mess this up. I cannot mess this up. Subspace’s hand was shaking slightly as he wrote out his equations for another improvement to his gas. I cannot mess this up-!
“Hey. Subspace.” The scientist jolted and scrambled back, only to see Hyperlaser’s helmet staring back at him. “Oh, well if it isn’t our resident mercenary!” He laughs, trying to call back that same overconfidence but falling flat.
Hyperlaser simply stares at him. “Look- you’ve been working longer hours, and since we’ve got a Phight coming up tomorrow you really should go to sleep. Okay?”
”No! I have to do this, I have to-“ Subspace thinks about the Phight, and quiets down. If I mess up and make Blackrock look bad, then it’s another step closer to death! With that thought, he turns away and starts organizing his stuff without a word.
”Subspace?” Hyperlaser usually disliked his incessant bragging and ego- but it was just scary to see him like this.
Because if something happened to make this demon with an ego the size of the Inphinity this submissive … then that something must have been big.
“I’m- I’m going to go home now, Hyperlaser.” Subspace waved him off. “See you tomorrow at the Dodgeball Gym.”
Subspace took the train to his housing complex this time. It looked like one of those modern houses, with a highly-insulated interior and high-tech appliances.
Opening the plexiglass-steel door, he stumbled into his bedroom and changed, flopping onto the futon and laying there, just… contemplating.
He couldn’t keep the encounter off his mind. It made him unable to sleep- and combined with his new work habits, it made him feel even worse mentally.
He ordered one of his Biografts standing at his bedroom door. “You there. Bring me something calming to drink, and melatonin pills.”
”YES, CREATOR.” It marched off to the kitchen, and he was left to mull over his own fear.
I was a terrible person. I knew that, and I didn’t regret it. He’d never really unpacked that before- no need to address a problem that didn’t hinder you. But now…
There was a slow-burning, deep feeling of unease in his chest. It was different from the soreness in his throat and lungs that his gas constantly made. Is this… guilt?
There was no need for psychologists in Blackrock. They didn’t like weakness in any form and capacity- and a weakness of the mind was seen as more pathetic than a weakness of the body. You didn’t lose a limb or get hurt physically- so why seek out treatment?
Subspace opted to ignore the new, discomforting feelings in his head and chest, and simply gulped down the warm water and melatonin pills.
Sleep tight, then.
The Phight was fucking miserable.
Subspace’s sleep somehow made himself more tired and jumpy- he’d dreamt about some vague figure marching through his gas and choking him by the throat. The nightmare led him to waking up late feeling like shit and rushing to the late train.
He’d only barely made it to the arena before they started the round, and stepped right next to Hyperlaser and Rocket.
”Where were you, Subspace?” The scientist only brushed it off, responding hastily. “Busy. I had work to do.”
Hyperlaser paused. “ Subspace. I waited at your lab for an hour before i went to the train- you were not there.”
”I said I was busy .” He gritted his teeth, half irritated and half skittish. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got to-“
Dom’s voice rang out through the stadium. “And last up, for the blue team, we have Medkit! Everybody give it up for him!” The crowd in Lost Temple politely claps, while Subspace can hear Sword whooping and hollering from the stands.
Subspace… froze. He’d remembered what the inspector had said.
Did you think we wouldn’t find out what you did to Medkit?
Those words echoed throughout his head during the entire Phight. He’d laid traps in the dumbest of places, missed half his attacks, and got himself killed more times than he’d liked.
Vine Staff, who was on his team for the round, gave him an unhappy look. “Subspace! At least try to focus!”
He jolts out of it- and activates his Phinisher at the wrong time, pulling in a total number of… zero enemies.
Subspace didn’t even try to laud his ‘greatest invention’, instead just staring at it blankly. It lets Medkit get a good aim on his torso and fan the hammer of his revolver. The scientist instantly gets killed again.
The round ended in a loss for his team. He’d been acting cagey and off the whole fight, staring at Medkit but not aiming.
Hyperlaser marches over to him, clearly agitated after he’d botched the Phight. “Subspace. What in Firebrand’s name have you been doing ?” He grips his gun harder and lowers his head- usually done as a sign of aggression in demons. “You blew it -!“
”It’s an off day, alright?!” Subspace snaps back, shrinking a bit. Hyperlaser notices how his coworker is bristling not just in anger- but unsettled fear .
“… We’ll go outside and talk about it, okay?” Hyperlaser slings his gear onto his back and walks outside the arena and into Crossroads with Subspace trailing behind.
Subspace glares at the crowd around him, but doesn’t say anything snarky or self-congratulating. “You know, you really should tell me what is happening to you. First you’ve been acting all odd, and now you’re missing shots and working overtime-“
Hyperlaser’s voice fades as Subspace sees something in the crowd that makes his hackles rise and his blood turn ice-cold.
It wasn’t the inspector. It was a completely different demon, with a similar plump body and a Biograft at her side, chatting with the other team.
She had messy clothes, cheek markings and glasses like Medkit’s old ones. Her demeanor was more bubbly and cheerful- actually innocent. But… her appearance was similar enough to his superior that he felt like he was going to die. And what made it worse was-
She looked my way. She looked my way she looked my way I’m going to die- The civilian didn’t even look for long, just stared at him a bit before turning back to Vine Staff and Shuriken, but it was enough.
Hyperlaser had to carry his fainted body back to Blackrock with no explanation as to why he’d blacked out.
