Chapter Text
007n7 can't think straight.
He grows afraid of the gazes that follow him everywhere, no matter where he moves. He doesn't remember when it started. But he knows part of the eyes that follow him are from the survivors who hold distaste. The other is from the Being who threw them into its sick, twisted game. Despite wanting to rekindle understanding with others, he knows he has no right to deny their anger.
Even though those feelings overwhelm his mind with heavy thoughts, he doesn’t believe he can refute or repent for the consequences of his biting past.
The heavy burden of responsibility hangs around his scarred neck.
007n7 was known for ruin, and will always be known as someone who ruins. Builderman's distaste, Elliot's heated gaze, it was all he was truly known for.
His past was enough to choke him, but never to kill him.
No, it already has. He's already dead. Has always been dead, and will continue to be dead. The responsibility of trying has always been a burden.
The fear of dying again and again has faded when the realization hits him like a truck.
He's already dead. (So why does he still want to feel alive?)
007n7 has noticed how his body runs cold. Noob rubbed against him once, and they asked. (They asked if he was okay, asked if he was sleeping well.)
007n7 couldn't give them an answer.
In front of any mirror, his complexion was deathly pale. He couldn't feel anything beyond his touch; everything was numb. He was already dead—so why was he still standing and breathing? He was already dead. A scar beneath his chin served as a constant reminder of the reason, the cause. He was already dead. He had failed C00lkidd and couldn’t do anything for his son, not now, not ever.
He's already dead.
...
He wishes it stayed that way.
007n7 has lost any appetite the more the cycle continues. His stomach growls but the pang of hunger stays absent. He already eats less, but he thinks it would be better if he didn't eat to save food for others. (There was plenty of food to be taken. He doesn't like how he is reminded that he is free to take more.)
007n7 could feel the shivering cold enveloping his body. No blankets nor fire could ever warm his resting body.
He was a corpse, a walking reanimated corpse.
...
He doesn't feel like himself anymore.
Dying on repeat has been slow, painful, and torturous.
007n7 wasn't afraid to die anymore— The pain may be present but the fear of death has faded. All gone but static. Dying to his son over and over must've been pathetic. He doesn't even fight back, doesn't even talk back. He accepts the warmth of his son, who burrows his head on the crook of his father's neck. (He thinks he deserved to die over and over for letting his son down. For letting him be stuck in the idea that everything was just a game.)
Wire, run, die, repeat. Wire, run, win, repeat.
Has anything changed? No, nothing changed.
...
He tried something bold during intermission.
007n7 took an unused knife and a trick of code that lies beneath the safelock of his GUI.
...
It didn't work.
He merely bled. In his cabin and during the round from that cycle. How cruel of that Being to make him particpate in the round as he bled profusely.
(It had confused 1x1x1x1 when 007n7 merely stood miles away from their sight. They have not attacked 007n7, yet to see the man bleeding certainly struck them in confusion. They tried asking how he had managed to injure himself, but seeing a knife left unattended with red remains was all 1x1x1x1 needed to know.
Was it mercy that they killed him quickly or did they take advantage of the fact that they could get rid of him immediately?)
The pain merely burned 007n7 awake.
It strangely made him feel animated, alive. The momentary relief, the quick trip of pain washed away the moment he hits the ground hard.
He can't do that again.
Not when the Being appeared from the corner of his eyes and blocked the command away, he doesn't think he can get any knife from the kitchen unused by Elliot too.
He got up from the floor and examined his C00lgui, it only has his clone ability and teleport again.
The persistent gaze faded only when 007n7 resumed inactivity. The Being seems to allow him freedom as long as he doesn't repeat the stunt he pulled.
...Was The Being just being careful in fear it could lose a (valuable) toy?
007n7 knows his deaths, will always be unnoticed. (No, not noticed. Unappreciated. Everyone dies too after all.)
The repeating bland cycle of death and revival all blurs his senses. The monotonous cycle brings the survivors together. But never him.
It's awkward, it's hard. Nobody except Guest or Chance tries to bring up getting to know 007n7 better. Forced laugh, darting glances, and low grumbles were all 007n7 needed to know it would never be changed.
It still hurts, he unfortunately admits.
Nothing changes.
But the berating of Elliot and the lectures of Guest have become white noise 007n7 dares to feel comfort from hearing.
In some way or another, he notices the attention he receives. 007n7 can't help but be aware of the subtle advances. Two Time often sneaks glances at him, offering bandages and sharing pizza. Noob asks him a few questions as a way to break the ice. Guests frequently rush up to check on how he's doing, and Chance gives them a supportive pat.
Each time he dies, Elliot asks if he's alright. It was odd.
(007n7 wouldn't know it himself, but the shine behind his eyes has already died, and the smile he graces others has become empty as he tells the same lie, "I am quite alright."
An eerie sight everyone has agreed was not alright.)
He doesn't deserve any of it. It is such a waste that they worry about a dead man.
007n7 ignores the glances of curiosity and worry, he always hides, like a coward he is. (Elliot was right after all. He has always been right. A changed man is still a dangerous man.)
Everyone was a better person than 007n7 could ever hope to be. How could he be anything else when he let his son drown in the world of his imagination, believing that everything is just a game? When he made people miserable and destroyed their lives?
When he took the easy way out.
007n7 ruins everything. Even his own very life. (He refuses the acknowledge the voice that whispers that he can gladly do it again.)
The Being seems to taunt him in every corner of his bad decision. 007n7 doesn't know why the Being was still keeping him alive. He wasn't even important, wasn't even "entertaining" to keep around.
007n7 sighs as he looks down at the reflection of the rippling water. The cold hardwood of the dock keeps him stable. He doesn't think he needs forgiveness anymore when he has already lost his life. This new "life" is not redemption. Only agony awaits him in this cycle of torture.
He thought about taking Chance's gun when they weren't looking. To do something and deepen the scar that aches in each contact. 007n7 had wanted to risk it. But how would the group react if it were Chance's gun that took him out? What if he merely revives again? The risk was not worth the shot knowing The Being would seem to try and keep him alive to play more rounds. 007n7 wished it had grown tired of him already.
He was losing all the more reason to live anyway.
(What would his son say if his father suddenly disappeared and no longer appeared in any rounds?)
On his way to sneak into the kitchen to appear so that Guest doesn't come knocking on his door, he overhears the others talking about what happened before they got into this situation again. 007n7 couldn't help but eavesdrop. He shouldn't be. Yet something compels him to listen.
"You think my family is still searching for me?"
...
"I'm sure they are, Elliot."
The lingering conscience of wanting to be a better man for his son stabs him for the past he failed to take responsibility.
“...Yeah, thanks—”
“I still can't believe magic man here got taken from his sleep. You'd expect someone like him to recognize something is off!”
Elliot grumbles as Chance interrupts him loudly. Dusekkar seems to take offense as he waves Chance away.
“...Taking me as I sleep was unjust, such a way to force me to adjust. Do not mock me like that, Chance. We all have heard about your song and dance.”
“I was taken with style!”
“You're still leaving a mystery.”
“Spawn does like the mystery. The obscurity of the gambler's life before is what makes them interesting.”
“Aww, that's— Hey! Do you mean you think I'm only interesting because of—”
The conversation fades to a buzzing hum. Everyone was comfortable in the presence of others. The feeling of being irrelevant forces its way up to 007n7's skin. He knows he has heard of how everyone got here but the reminder of what they have left behind in their life haunts 007n7.
He doesn't have anything to return to. (His son. His son. He wants to go back with his son. He wants his son to be free, out of this purgatory.)
Why could that Being take them to play its sick and twisted games? What made it so interesting in their individuality to be forced to participate in its amusement?
007n7 is a changed man. He promises himself to be. (What changed in him only proved him to be useless. Useless. Unwanted.)
Everyone wants to go back to their lives, to continue where they left off, and back to their family, to their loved ones. 007n7 can't go back. (He wants to. Is he even allowed to?)
He feels solemn heaviness hearing their wishes from the thin wooden walls. 007n7 wants to help them. (Despite the others not wanting to help him, he tells himself it is alright. He doesn't need help.)
“007n7, there you are. Go grab a portion.”
007n7 almost gave a huge flinch when a familiar, large, blemished hand gave him a pat on the back. Finally, the man he waited for has appeared. He doesn't have to worry about Guest knocking on his door with food that will only spoil in his cabin.
He turns with a familiar smile, “Yes, I will. Thank you.”
He doesn't look when the hand retreats, not until the footsteps fade. He waits for a moment until he feels that he is in the clear.
007n7 stands by the door and timed his action. He took an empty plate from the shelves and placed it near the sink. Quickly retreating from the back door, he disappears without a trace.
Everyone was a better person than 007n7 could ever be. Unhelpful, selfish... Perhaps to show that he truly changed... the bare minimum that he could do to help is to get them out of this purgatory. Even if he knows it won't earn his redemption.
But 007n7 he will make it his redemption.
...
The coding of the being who keeps them trapped, it must have a weak spot, right?
...
007n7 promises he will break it to ruin. That was all he was known for after all.
...
The Spectre would like to see him try.
The Spectre loves its toys equally.
But it certainly hated the admins. Annoying at best, disruptive at worst. One of its best feats was taking the Man of Robloxia himself. He can try all he wants but he will not find any fault to crack.
The worst was the Pumpkin one. It was the admin, The Spectre, least liked, having a hard time catching the man off guard. So in revenge, it gave him slowness in using his abilities permanently. The Spectre was sure the pumpkin toy was cursing its name but what could he do against its greatness?
The Spectre carefully chose its toys to live up to its expectations. They did give certain entertainment, giving a fight against the myths they had once faced and being smart in surviving.
Although one of the toys didn't live up to the high expectations, it still had its moments.
The Hacker was boring. Stale and broken.
The toy didn't fight back. Against the killers, against his teammates. The Spectre has seen his great chaos as a Feared Hacker in Robloxia, so how could he be so... lacking? Uninteresting. It had weakened the Hacker, but it knew he could change its code to have more abilities to make rounds a little bit exciting.
Did the Spectre make the wrong choice? No, he must have something on his sleeves, yes?
Wrong. The toy was awfully so boring. So depressing. To witness the arguments between the survivors' group was fun, at first. The Spectre started to lose interest when the old argument repeated. Does the Pizza toy not ever get tired? The Spectre was certainly getting tired from the lack of action it was getting from the other toy.
It was sad. It was bad. The Spectre cooes at the despair of the toy but it decides to leave him be.
Oh, how wrong it was to be. It was glad to be.
The toy suddenly grew a spine and challenged The Spectre's authority.
At first, The Spectre was surprised. Annoyed even, when the toy suddenly changed tactics from his usual moping. The man who gave up trying, the man who keeps crying. The man who lost his shine was unexpectedly trying to cross boundaries of The Spectre's rules and making it completely obvious that he was making changes.
The Spectre liked it, this toy would finally keep things interesting! It wouldnt be as annoying as the admins who has lost their ways of coding until it started disliking it. The Spectre hated it.
The first change the toy made was to make the intermission longer. Pausing the usual game time and giving a whole day or two of rest. The cowardly toy doesn’t even speak when his group looks for clues about why time could be forgiving. It took the Spectre merely seconds to fix the issue, but it made sure to send a warning.
A lighthearted threat, to not make things he will regret—
The toy ignored its warning.
(How infuriating.)
The next step the toy made was to make the killers move slower, making some rounds easier. 1x1x1x1 in particular. The change of pace did not bother the others but it certainly enraged the Virus. The Spectre cannot say it liked it, not when they fail to show action and The Virus cursed it for their changes. Why was it being blamed? It was the Hackers fault in the first place!
The Spectre boiled at its toys audacity.
It found no fun at all.
It punished and depraved the Hacker toy from his everything. Taking out his sight, giving him blindness until he dies. The panic was short-lived when the man somehow fixed his own code. The Spectre was not going to lie, it was amazed how fast the toy fixed it own sight with his 'C00lgui.'
The Spectre tries to strip away his panel, preventing him from doing anything for several rounds. It was fun seeing the man reprimanded for doing nothing. But it made the toy jittery, more on edge, and more prone to harming himself. Urk. Not again. Enough with that in its realm. The Spectre let him have it back seeing the stillness it didn’t like. It need it's toys active, working, not broken in a way it didn't want.
The Spectre decides to outright kill him after being unable to think of a creative way to punish its toy when it started to be bolder and change the games objective.
It hopes the warnings of punishments was loud and clear.
007n7 died again. (Maybe he deserved that.)
Before he could touch a generator, he received an electrifying shock that paralyzed him head to toe. He gagged from the static air before he felt something pierced his heart. Sudden and swift. It still hurts. It was cold but it burned.
His vision swims to multitude of colors before he found himself back in the main cabin.
007n7 clutches his chest, trying to find the familiar beat that faintly appears before sighing away. He slumps against the wall, sliding down, he tries to collect his thoughts.
The sting of the shock left him unguarded as he shakes. It's cold. It aches. It feels empty inside.
Maybe he should stop. Maybe that was enough. The Being seems to keep taking something from 007n7. If it's keep taking, why not his life entirely?
“Ex-hacker.” 007n7 blinks away the sweat falling from his face. Two Time stares at 007n7 with a blank expression. 007n7 gives them a nod of acknowledgement. “You departed quite immediate. The round has only started.”
“Sorry.” was 007n7's automated response.
The familiar sharp smile graces Two Times face, meeting 007n7 eye-to-eye as they closes their distance. “Spawn would appreciate it if the ex-Hacker tell the reason why that must be.”
What could 007n7 even tell Two Time? He doesn't even know how it happened. Had the Being rigged that generator? Or was it only meant to kill him?
He can't really tell Two Time The Being has a feud with him.
“...The killer found me.” It sounds reasonable, right?
There was a glimmer behind Two Time's eyes, a knowing spark. Oh. 007n7 wilts. He expects Two Times usual line something that goes “The Spawn disapprove lies” but the other merely watched 007n7 collect his bearing in silence.
It seems Two Time grew bored from the silence as they decided to start the conversation with the question they seems to be dying to ask. “Those alterations, it has been the ex-Hackers making, is it not?”
007n7 flinches.
“Do not worry, dearest ex-Hacker. It would seem the Spawn blessed only me in observance.” Two Time begs closer and closer, 007n7 had to put his hand in front to stop Two Time from advancing. “Two Time—”
“But I may ask, could you make adjustments for me? It would greatly please the Spawn.”
“You want me to make adjustments... for you?”
Two Time's tail excitedly wags behind their back, with their crazed smile and stare. 007n7 wanted to decline, the changes could be noticed by the Being or worse, have some negative effects on Two Time.
“Do not think too much of it, ex-Hacker. I can see it in your expression that you worry too much. I can handle such changes.”
“Are you sure about this, Two Time?”
“The Spawn does not like hesitation.” A wry smile strains from their mouth.
007n7 rubs his forehead. He can't regret, he can't decline. He told to himself he would help everyone out of this hell. Changing their code is part of it, right?
Yes. Anything to ruin The Beings game.
The sight of Two Times excited laughter when they landed a long ranged lunge brought short exhilaration to 007n7's chest. They were able to hide long and catch John Doe off guard. Glee twinkles in Two Time's eyes even when they've lost that round. Their smile shines with pure cheerfulness unlike the faux merriness they usual plaster on their face. “The Spawn praises the ex-Hacker's work, but it advises me to practice more of my work. From the bottom of my heart, I thank the ex-Hacker!”
Telamon above, he misses seeing such a happy smile. He misses his son so much.
007n7 doesn't know what Two Time told the others but now they come flocking in asking him curious questions... and requests.
(Upgrade me too, please!)
“⬆️📈💣👀🙏!” The usually reserved demolitionist who doesn't come near 007n7 unless circumstances jumps him with wildly fluttering signing hands.
...What can he even change in Taphs code that won't be too damaging and noticeable? Can he even make modifications that won't ruin their health? “Do you... have anything specific in mind for me to change?”
“✨️.”
A slow thumbs up comes from Taph.
007n7 fears what might be going on in Taph's mind.
The toy continued to give changes.
(007n7 is tired, so tired he keeps repeating the same mistakes he keeps doing on multiple situations. He can't keep up with the requests. Butchered voices and scrutinizing gazes keeps burdening his already weary mind.
But he has to help them even if its risky. He's going to get caught but he has to keep moving. Keep helping. He has to. He has to. He has to. The altering of the admins code has taken a toll on 007n7's exhausted mind and overexerted his C00lgui.)
The Spectre doesn't even realize the changes until it watches a round itself.
The Pumpkin toy floats faster using his wand, he easily casts without getting caught. He can... sprint? No way it would do that for the annoying toy who took its time!
The toy that loves traps could immediately throw their traps. Instant. Traps. How scary.
The ranges of the other survivors, the cultist toy especially.
Oh how dare this Hacker.
(“You've done well, 007n7.”
“Huh. I didn’t know t-thats possible! Thanks, 007n7!”
“The Spawn is gracious to your utmost care.”
“Yer being a great help for the team, I... respect that.”
“Much obliged, do aide more as required.”
“...Okay, I guess. ...Are you al—”
“T-thank you, 007n7!”
“🫵😇👍.”
“Oh, thanks 007n7! I really needed that!”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you.” “Thank you.” “Thank you.”
So many voices.
“007n7.”
“007n7.” “007n7.”
“007n7.” “007n7!” “007n7.” “007n7.”
“007n7.” “007n7.” “007n7!” “007n7.”
“007n7?” “007n7!” “007n7.” “007n7.”
So many... noise.
“007n7!” “007n7.” “007n7.” “007n7?”
“007n7.” “007n7!” “007n7?” “007n7.”
“007n7.” “007n7?” “007n7!” “007n7.”
“007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?”
“007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?”
“007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?” “007n7?”
“007n7, are you listening?”)
The Spectre had a hard time reverting the changes. It couldn't reverse the changes. It couldn't revert the changes— Oh! No, it can still alter some of it.
And it started with the cultist. It had an annoying time listening to the screams of the Pink child about their stabbing, twice.
The Hacker was truly testing the limits of The Spectres mercy.
“WhAt M4de Y0u tHINk Y0u c4N HAve chAnGEs W1tHouT MY KN0WledGE?”
The Spectre had enough. He still wouldn't stop.
(He can't stop, he needs to help his team. He has to do more. He can't rest, not now. A dead man doesn't need any rest.)
Alone in his cabin, there was no one to help him. No one to see them.
The main house was close yet he doesn't scream for help either. You would think he finally formed a bond. How funny he doesn't.
(He couldn't handle their voices. Their stares. It's everywhere all at once.
The Being appears.)
There was surprise in his eyes but it soon disappeared to anticipation. Expectation.
The toy doesn't flinch. Not even a squinch. No fear, no panic. Just nothing. He was in no rush, accepting the fate of dying in The Spectre's hands. The Spectre wrapped its "hands" around its toys neck, pressing against his jugular and cutting the air flow.
The toy only stared right through The Spectre without a single hint of movement as his careful laboured breath becomes choked exiting his mouth. He looked at the Spectre as if observing it like some sort of specimen, with a burning gaze and teary eyes. He waits for his death.
Oh is that so? The Spectre observed the man back with sparkling interest.
CRACK.
It snapped his neck brutally.
It watches as he respawns back clutching his neck, gasping desperately.
The heated gaze was back, challenging and defying. Despite the glare, the Spectre could see the hint of disappointment. Was he disappointed he got caught? No, that would be shallow. Why could he be disappointed?
(Why couldn't it just let him die?)
The Spectre smiles manically.
Was it disappointed in The Spectre? Now isn't that cute? What more could The Spectre take away from the man who holds nothing dear but his son?
What could this man have to gain to have his spark back? Did he think he could win against The Spectre?
The Spectre already knew that this toy was broken, unrepairable, but now it wanted to see how far it could break him.
It grew to love the Hacker's insistence to try, to repeat, and to fail. Has he been driven to insanity?
(The Being must be learning, to immediately block off 007n7 attempts and laugh at his face with strange symbols in his panel.)
The Spectre found him adorable. There was nothing left for him to try but he still makes an effort to ask for a confrontation. It loved his poor unfortunate soul.
The Spectre decides to change its approach. In some way, from what it understood. Dealing with the Hacker was the most fun it had than just watching its other toys suffer.
007n7... has become the Spectre's favorite toy.
007n7 doesn't understand the strange change. He knows he angered the Being, but after the incident in the cabin, 007n7 questions if he still wants to continue challenging its coding and die trying.
It was lacking, flimsy. Yet it was strong enough to stand against the prodding. A firewall of broken and corrupted codes. The Being seems to flaunt to everyone that no matter what they do, no one can transform its very core. It was right. He can only make modifications, no deletion. To alter the existing codes, unable to make new ones. (How was it that the Being only allows 007n7 to have his power to code and not the admins?)
But who was 007n7, if not the Greatest former Hacker Feared in Robloxia? He can't go back to his old ways but that doesn't mean he can't apply them.
He worries about continuing. Worried that the Being would harm them more because of 007n7's insistence. It his fault again. (Just when can do something right?)
But it became weird.
The Being didn't kill him anymore, it stopped giving him punishment him too. Instead it... gave him a gift?
“Two Time... did this come from you?” Two Time stares at the small cardboard box still sealed in 007n7's hand. Looking up to 007n7, they shook their head. “Although I have reasons to make you a gift, I have no materials to make one for now.”
Noob declined it giving it too. “N-no! Um, It- I didn't make that. I d-don't really know what to even gift you aha...”
007n7 only learned it was from the Being when it appeared in his cabin.
He had to pause. His hand immediately hides his C00lgui behind his back in the process of managing his codes stability. (It was malfunctioning too much. He was making too much mistakes lately and it wasn't helping the team.)
The box was now on the floor.
By the cabin's window, the Being in absolute darkness looms. It had no physicial form, yet 007n7 could see its eyes piercing through the room. Its eyes blink with an unsettling blend of humor and terror, responding his shock with an mocking awareness.
Elongated shadow pushes the box towards 007n7.
“WHy hAVe yOU NoT oPEnEd My gIFt_?”
Click. The door closes.
He ignored it.
He headed straight to the declining bed, skillfully ignoring the gaze that watches. His heart skipped a beat. 007n7 doesn't grace the Being with an reply and instead tried to focus on his C00lgui.
He expected the Being to lose interest or take the C00lgui away again, but it did nothing.
...Was it watching him reorganize his code?
The eyes now uncomfortably sit behind his back. It's curious, it's distracting.
No, he can't let it distract him. He have to alter the adjustment it made against everyone. The unfair modification that unmotivated others but couldn't vocally point 007n7 at fault.
But he can't do that right now. The Being might get ideas. He takes a sharp glance, immediately turning away when the eyes took notice and lights up mockingly.
Yeah... The Being is probably keeping an eye on him. That could only be the possible explanation.
He can't do anything else but focus on his own code. He can't just let this Being learn how it manages others.
That would be dangerous.
[ .Thing 007n7 = new Corruptable (true) ]
An hour. Or maybe two. The Being stayed in the cabin with him for more than an hour.
He wasn't transported to any games. He was lost in his own thoughts, convinced that the eyes watching him from behind belonged to his friend. It felt familiar, and he couldn’t help but think it was his friend, he couldn't shake that feeling.
While he was busy tinkering with the code of his clone, he found himself expecting to hear a familiar voice ask, “Why are you still changing an already perfectly coded clone, Seven?” He could almost hear the mocking tone accompanying the words, “God, you’re such a perfectionist, Sev.”
Then reality set in, and he realized there was no voice, just those eyes—still there, watching and waiting.
Staring.
There was no ████ to mock him anymore.
“...”
It pushes the box again. This time, in front of 007n7. He stares at the box on the floor. Open it or deal with it watching him all day.
“...”
“HAVe yoU FInaLLY dECidED?”
There was an underlying threat. Of course it wouldn't like getting ignored.
007n7 simply wanted it gone. Away from the cabin where he felt a fleeting sense of privacy and safety. He mentally urges himself to open the crudely taped box.
Oh.
God. He wished he didn't.
“How...” His heart drops into his stomach as fear becomes the reason it beats. His hand wanders to the picture in the box and onto another.
Pictures of him, pictures of C00lkidd, pictures of the two of them.
Each of every pictures we're his moments with C00lkidd. It was haunting, it was mocking. In different angles, in different locations. “How dare you!”
But his hand caught on a different type of paper, underneath all the layers of the photos, there was a newspaper. A note attached.
[Infamous Hacker 007n7 dead by Suicide!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Do you think your son found you dead or was he still lost somewhere hoping you will find where he fled?]
[Do you wish ███ ██ █ ███ ████?]
...
...
It was giving him false hope. It got to be.
It has to be.
“DO yOu LIke iT?”
It laughs in glitches and static but 007n7 doesn't hear it. Instead, he hears a different laugh, a low pitched child laugh. A killers laugh.
His sons laugh.
007n7 feels his mind going blank. There's a pounding pain inside his head that constricts and weaves until it fissures and aches.
His son is-
(████ tells him his son will never be coming back. ███████ told him that he will never get to see his son again. This Being has to be lying. Because 007n7 could see in front of him that—)
Too much red. Too much blood. On his hand, on the pictures, on the floor, on his foot. It's his blood. It has to be his blood. It stains the newspaper and drenched the note. Unreadable. The pictures, they all blur from the blood and 007n7 feels repulsed. He gagged at the stench of his own blood. It splatters on his face, on his clothes. It's a stain he couldn't remove. The blood was everywhere. The blood was everywhere. Red swims in his vision.
Why couldn't he just stay dead?
Maybe if he— Maybe if he could just—!
Absolute darkness covers his sight.
“OH. THat wASNt wHAT I HaD iN MInd.”
Emptiness still wraps around his sight. A slight opening reveals an eye that demands his focus.
It glares. It burns.
He can't close his eyes.
“ThAT WASn't thE reACTIon _I waNTed to sEE.”
He can't look away.
“H0w D1sAPPoinTIng. I d0Nt w4NT Y0u rUInED l1K3 tHIS. I'll lET yoU FORgeT. JUSt tHIs OnCE.”
Then it blurs.
Don't break now, 007n7.
007n7 opens his eyes, feeling a blur in his mind that makes him dizzy. What was he doing? Did he really fall asleep right after a round against John Doe? He has things to do, he can't sleep yet.
He gets up from the bed and notices a glowing note on the nightstand. Taking a quick breath, he squints to read the writing.
[ I hope you learn to like my gifts in the future. — The Spectre ]
“...” 007n7 couldn't help but scowl. Was the Being— The Spectre— calling its punishments "gifts"?
007n7 crumbles the paper without any second thought.
He mutters, “It can't get worse.”
...
Some trinkets... and a cake. A blank white cake. 007n7 has no idea what is going on in Spectre's mind. Was this a reward for surviving? No, it couldn't be.
007n7 doesn't remember anything notable happening against a recent round with Jason. Having been on the sides to offer the medkit for Guest and making sure he times it well. He only remembers Jason staring through 007n7 as he stood in place in front of the killer before Guest rushed forth and ordered 007n7 to hide.
It continued to give him things he can't even use in its realm. He already knew it was messing with him but what was the use of the things it keeps on giving?
It was an unbreakable shield in this round as 1x1x1x1 is the killer this time. 007n7 knew it came from The Spectre because Dusekkar wasn't present in the round. He double checked with his C00lgui.
When 1x1x1x1 found him, they looked so confused. They have tried to hack against the shield but it received no damage. 1x1x1x1 growled against the fissure and slammed their fist against the shield. “H0W 4RE Y0U DO1NG TH1S, H4CK3R?”
“...It wasn't me.”
1x1x1x1 doesn't look like he believes him.
007n7 stares at the Daemonshank. Would the ability pass through or will it kill him in place?
“Do you want to- to try killing me with the... ability?”
1x1x1x1 stands frozen in place, as if contemplating. 007n7 was sure they were waiting for him to start running, or were they waiting for him to be caught unprepared?
Against all odds, 1x1x1x1 slowly turns, walking away. He hears the wind up of their skill, and at the corner of his eyes an image of his panel flashes.
Shedletsky was down to 87%.
“...Oh.”
The Spectre had a good laugh when the virus couldn't decide to kill the Hacker. They left the Hacker alive as the Last Man Standing but they merely kept an eye on the Hacker. The Spectre was glad the Virus could see the potential of its favorite toy!
(“WH4T D1D Y0U 3V3N D0. H0W H4VE Y0U 3VEN 4CH1EV3D TH1S.” 1x1x1x1 kept prodding and poking against the shield.)
Now it wonders... what could it give 007n7 next?
Oh, it knows!
A tea party with his son.
Sounds like a neat idea.