A Shot At Heaven

by Monopsys

Summary:

The world was cold and not alive, until a fountain appeared and a small TV finally flickered to life. This fountain, this lonely world needed someone to make it shine. After all, how can a TV become a star without a stage?
A small exploration and my personal headcanons, reimagining how TV World came to be and how Tenna's journey began. A small au which will follow canon closely with some different outcomes

Notes:

Hello and welcome! I decided to start a new fic with Tenna! When I first saw him, I immediately knew that he will become one of my fav characters! So, after some time, I started to have some thoughts of how he became the TV star he is and how far he went for it. Saw some amazing ideas and well... I got influenced. So, I will start by saying, I will try to blend the darkner's mechanics as best I can and I hope you will have fun with me. Plus we will die like Tenna since the fic it is not beta read. Sorry for any mistakes (english is not my first language) and I would like to hear your personal thoughts and headcanons for Tenna. I am always eager to hear more about that TV!!!!
So, ITS TV TIME!

Chapter 1: Signal in the Snow

     It was quiet.... too quiet. Too quiet for his liking... But he was used to it... unfortunately. The young TV looked around again. It was too calm, too cold, too white... too... lonely.

     He moved his antennas around, trying to pick up any noise, but he didn't find anything. Still, he moved on. He didn't know where he was. He suddenly woke up here. In an empty place with nothing but snow and no one to talk to. Weird indeed. What was more weird, though, was how he had ended here. He didn't remember anything. Who he was, what he was, where he was. He was alone...

     He knew he was a TV, he knew that well. He could feel his fans trying to warm him up in this cold place, but as far as he went, he couldn't find anything. It was like... he had appeared here. He moved his antennas again.... nothing.

     Where the hell was he?

      Why was he alone?

      He didn't like that...

     He had stopped moving, it appeared. Perhaps from the sheer emptiness he felt? The huge wave of loneliness struck him. He felt his hands moving to his chest, trying to grab at something. He noticed they were shaking, feeling truly helpless. He grabbed his shirt, tight, and slowly looked around. What could he do?

     He tried to speak, but... he didn't know how... he felt helpless once again.

      What was he supposed to do?

     He slowly kneeled in the snow, feeling the cold. Even though the coldness he felt relief. He was feeling something at least. He once again looked slowly around, but he didn't see anything again. Finally submitting to the sheer loneliness, he felt himself hitting the cold ground. He curled up like an infant, feeling helpless. Even though his fans were working overtime, he could feel the cold surrounding him slowly, enveloping him.

     He decided to close his eyes and just... let himself go.

     .... but he refused...

     His antennas picked up something which made him slowly turn. He was now facing the sky, lying on his back.

      The stars?

     Yes... it was the stars his antennas picked up.

      But why?

     He looked at the stars once again. His antennas twitched softly, catching the faint hum of the stars above. The cold was biting, but there was something... something warm in that distant, sparkling light. Slowly, the young TV blinked his screen-like eyes and pushed himself up from the snow.

     He could feel himself laugh. Was he stupid? Why were the stars speaking? Why was he following them, though? He looked again at the stars. They were brighter this time. His screen was glued to them. Maybe... just maybe... he should follow them.

    His legs felt stiff, but he found the strength somewhere deep. Was it hope? Perhaps... Step by step, he rose, wobbling at first, but determination shone in his flickering display. The emptiness around him no longer seemed quite as vast.

     The stars were clearer with each step he took. They were shining brighter each time the TV saw them. Hallucinations, the TV thought, but he felt the steps he took becoming stable. His antennas were guiding him, following the noise the stars made. He didn't understand what they said, but he could feel them there.

     Feel something finally close.

     He scanned the horizon, and there it was, just beyond a line of frost-covered trees, a soft shimmer. Something alive, something moving.

     With renewed hope, Tenna adjusted his antennas, pointing toward the glow. He started walking, each step crunching softly on the snow. The cold bit less sharply now, and the loneliness was almost gone, replaced by a quiet curiosity.

     Closer and closer he went, until finally, he saw it... a fountain. Which was moving gently, almost looking frozen. Still, he could feel it move. The TV watched it for a moment, mesmerized by its beauty, and finally, slowly came closer to it. It was a sight to behold. He felt himself smile finally after so long. He didn't know how much, but he knew it felt like a decade. The stars still were speaking to him, showing him that though the fountain, they were still there. At that moment, the TV felt alive, warm for the first time, and as his hand touched the fountain, he felt something. A connection he hadn’t known he needed.

      Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t so empty after all.

     The stars continued, and as the TV turned to look again at them, he felt like they were murmuring to him. He wanted to thank them, but he was still not sure how. He couldn't speak. Still, that didn't stop him from giving a small static growl at them, trying to communicate his feelings. It seemed to do its job because he felt like this time the stars were singing to him.

     The TV sat down close to the fountain, feeling it's warmth while listening to the stars. It was a start.

 

      A very long start...

 

 

 

  -ooo-

 

 

 

    He was stubborn, he knew that too well. But his curiosity was strong, and his mind was still developing. He was still unsure of why he was here and why he was alone, but this time with the stars by his side, he could explore without feeling overwhelmed. The stars could see anything, and he knew that they would guide him back to the fountain if he felt lost again. He felt relieved that they were there, watching over him, so his next business was to explore the area he was in.

     He wasn't lucky, of course... He hadn't found anything at all. He only found snow and snow and snow. He had found nothing and no one. Still, he felt determined. This time, as he was searching, he found a bridge. A long bridge. As he was walking over it, he saw that the snow wasn't covering it in some points. He was hesitant at first about continuing his exploration, but his curiosity won him over.

     Darkness was swallowing the bridge, he finally deduced as he had stopped a moment to observe it. It was weird. Why was all this land covered in snow, and this peculiar bridge was covered in darkness? He scanned his surroundings. The dark was still cold as the snow. Not much difference. What made him stop though , was that he couldn't see the sky at all, and that scared him.

      The stars weren't there. They were not blooming in the darkness. When the TV noticed that, he started to backtrack. He didn't want to lose his one company, whatever the cause. So, he turned to leave only to feel suddenly that something was wrong. The stars were quiet, but his antennas were picking up something. His instincts told him to run, and he didn't need to be told twice.

     He felt himself running, on all fours, feeling overwhelmed and scared. The stars were not talking, and the bridge was starting to be covered by more darkness than snow. This wasn’t good. His antennas were screaming at him to speed up. As he was running, he felt the ground shake, and he lost his footing. A miracle, he would later call it, as an attack hit the bridge ahead of him, showing that there was an intruder. An enemy!

     The TV stopped and turned to face it, ready to fight, but he didn't see anything. Still, his antennas could hear them. He jumped away from another attack before it hit him, and the TV scanned the area to see where the attacker was. Only to be met with a horrific side... they were everywhere. Like steam enveloping him. The TV, now terrified, started to run again away from the darkness that seemed to try to close him in. But the attacker was fast and managed to hit his leg.

     A strong sound was emitted by the screen, showing that it had caused pain to the TV. He stumbled, and with the speed he was going, he rolled hard on the ground. The TV's screen flickered erratically as he tried to steady himself. His leg throbbed with static pain, and his antennas whirred wildly, desperately trying to track the swirling steam. The darkness pulsed, almost alive, finally enveloping him.

     The TV finally felt truly scared, alone, and helpless. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't see at all, couldn't feel anything, and worst of all, he couldn't hear anything...

     He was truly alone!

    The darkness crushed in tighter, swallowing the TV’s faint screen glow until it was nearly gone. His fans whirred in panic, antennas twitching so hard they buzzed, but there was no sound, no stars, no wind, nothing.

     He grabbed them, trying to feel something, almost pulling them off. Static hissed faintly on his screen as his chest tightened with a feeling he couldn’t name. Fear… deeper than before, heavy and paralyzing.

     He just wanted not to be alone...

     Something then touched him. The TV screamed internally and turned around to swat away the attacker. But there was nothing there. He felt, yet again, someone close, cold and weightless, like a wisp of fog brushing his shoulder. His screen flickered wildly as he tried to scramble away, kicking his legs desperately, but the darkness followed... this time deliberate.

     He shivered when it curled softly around his head. It was searching for something, it seemed, but the TV didn't want it to find. But the fog was stronger. As the TV tried again to fight, he heard something.

     A whisper... felt deep inside his circuits.

      “…broken…”

     The TV froze. His static thoughts stuttered. Was it… talking to me?

    Before he could react, a soft pressure pressed onto the top of his head. A hidden switch clicked beneath the weightless touch. A surge of warmth jolted through him like a spark catching fire. It was painful, yes, but it felt right. It felt surreal, energetic, almost... his own. His screen steadied, static cleared, and suddenly, a sound escaped his speaker. A yell... The TV stopped.

      Was... was that his voice?

     He felt something else as well... a mouth... on his screen. He touched it, unsure, but sure enough, it was there. So he slowly, almost painfully, used it.

      “H… h ello?”

     The darkness shifted. It didn’t answer. It didn’t even move closer. It just… hovered, watching. The TV knew it was there, his antennas were still working fine.

    “Wh… what… what do yo u wa nt …?” His voice cracked, echoing softly against the silence. No reply. Only the strange, weightless mist, pulsing faintly, as if waiting.

     He slowly pushed himself up, knees shaking. “You… he lp ed me? ”

     The mist rippled slightly but gave no sign of yes or no. That made the TV frustrated.

     "You g av e me a voice... a nd ... and now you don' t ta lk?"

     The mist didn't bother answering. The TV got annoyed, but his antennas picked something again...

      The stars!

     He turned to face where the sound was coming from, and sure enough, he finally saw the snow again. Relieved, the TV stood up and started moving towards the exit, only to stop.

     "You...you are le tti ng m e le ave?" He asked the entity.

     Sure enough, the entity didn't speak, but the TV knew it was still there.

     "You cha s... ch ase me .... and... then h elp me? Why? "

     He didn't expect an answer, but this time he got one. The entity healed him. That made the TV hesitant again. Was it apologizing for the attack? The TV turned to look at where he thought the entity was and tilted his head. The fog seemed to circle him again, and this time it was guiding him out of the darkness. The TV resisted for a moment when finally his circuits started working.

     He turned to look at the entity and smiled at it. "Thank you." He thanked the fog, which was confused at the TV comment, as it had stopped moving him.

     The TV continued. "I understa nd now ... or thi nk I do. I entered your territory. Sorry... " He slowly moved his head down. "I will stay on mine. Even...even if I do n't know why I hav e it."

     The TV finally moved slowly towards the exit, but the fog followed him. This time, though, it was welcoming, almost gentle. The TV laughed.

     "It is still new... heari ng my voice, but... it is welco ming... I... like it. .. thank you... don't kn ow how y ou knew ho w t o... swi tch i t on... "

     The fog just brushed his shoulder, telling him it wasn't something to think about. So the TV just let it slide. As he finally touched snow, he could feel the fog leaving. The TV turned to the darkness, which was now covering half of the bridge, and yelled at it.

     "I will come back."

     It was a promise, and the fog knew that.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

     "Quiet today?" The TV said to the darkness, but sure enough, he didn't have any answer.

     After his little adventure, the TV returned to the fountain. The stars still over him had worried when he was swallowed by the darkness. The TV was happy that the stars were looking for him, trying to protect him. The TV had ensured of what had happened that day and the stars didn't take that lightly. They were furious, it seemed, but impressed over the fact that the TV had a voice. Still, they had advised him to be aware of the darkness since it had not only attacked him but also knew how to fix the TV.

     Which made the TV think. Sure... it had hit him, but... why did it help him? There was more to that entity, and his curiosity was always winning him over. So as he had promised, he went to the bridge again. He had stopped at the moment the snow stopped, and then darkness enveloped the bridge.

     He wanted to talk to that entity again. Even if it didn't answer back, he felt its answers. He wanted to learn more about it.

     The TV sat down on the snow, feeling its cold. He smiled. He still wasn't used to his new mouth. Or his voice. He didn't know he had a mouth. He felt himself doing expressions, but never thought he would have a face to do them. Well... a mouth, at least.

     He continued smiling as he pointed over him. "They sure are not." He joked as he pointed at the stars, which were above him, observing each movement he made.

     He knew that they would not let him meet the fog again, so he decided to have them join him. They were more open to the idea, even if they were not keen on the darkness ahead. Still, they were not making him leave, letting him choose what he wanted to do, which he appreciated. He didn't want to lose them. He was with them from day one, and they were his only friends... until now.

     His antennas moved, which meant that the fog was close by. He became ecstatic. It was here! He heard the stars making fun of him, but he didn't pay them any mind.

     "Well... a cold day isn't it?" He started, and he could feel the stars laugh and the fog watching him with widened eyes.

     The TV sighed as he bit his lips. "Sorry... I am not good at this... talking thing. New to me. " He murmured, but he continued. "Not sure why I can speak so fluently when I was not able to just some days ago. I might be a fast learner..."

     He laughed at his own joke, but he felt awkward again.

     "I... I am not sure how, but I can. " He looked at the stars again, which had stopped talking and listening to him. It seemed to be the same case for the fog.

     "Ok... well... now this is awkward. Don't like being the center of the attention."

      He could hear the fog chuckling.

     "Ok, fine. I like it when I am, but not like this. I feel pressured..." The TV said, but he could feel that the others were waiting for him to continue.

      So...he did.

     "I don’t know why I’m here...” He said, voice low but steadying itself as the words flowed out. “When I woke up… there was nothing. Just snow. Just silence. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know what I was. I didn’t even have a voice to ask why. I thought maybe… maybe I wasn’t supposed to exist. Like I was just dropped here and forgotten. No reason, no purpose. Just… a broken signal in an empty world."

    He glanced at the stars above, their light flickering softly like quiet encouragement.

     "But then, I met them, helping me find something. A fountain. Which I knew what it did, I knew its purpose, and why it was here. I felt... something. Felt happy, warm... not alone. I found someone to be with. And now... I met you. Ha, well, we didn't have a good start but... I went over your boundaries. Still... you pressed that button. You gave me this voice. And even if you never said anything, even if you just… followed me, you made me feel like maybe I’m not nothing.”

     His antennas moved slightly, showing that the fog had come closer.

    “I still don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know my purpose. Maybe I won’t know for a long time… maybe ever. But I know I am not alone anymore. So... progress I guess... " He laughed again, and this time he felt warmth from the fog.

     The stars were talking again, telling him that he would find what he is and why he is here. It seemed that they knew what he was... as well as the fog which was closer than ever, like that day when it had enveloped him.

     "Maybe I am the star of the show and you are not telling me this?" He joked, but it seemed he was right.

     He knew that he played a role for the fountain. But he didn't think he would have an important role. Still, the stars guiding him there and the fog stopping him from leaving the snow... or rather, this world showed that he was needed here. So... this fountain... was in his protection...

     He felt the fog's warmth over his shoulder, and the stars were humming in his thoughts. His antennas twitched softly, feeling somewhat relieved with the information, even if he didn't like that the others read his thoughts. He shook his head as he looked ahead at the darkness in nothing in particular.

     "I... still need help." He admitted. "I don't know how to move from here. Don't know where to go. I just know I need to do something here. But what? "

     The stars started shining from above, and the mist simply moved around the TV...

       It didn't help in the slightest.

     "I... I am not sure what you are trying to say, but... perhaps I need to act like something?"

     The others had nodded.

     "So... what?"

     He felt a buzzing noise in his screen, and he immediately understood that it was the fog. It had used the same thing when he had switched on his voice. His antennas twitched, picking up faint signals that weren’t words but… ideas. Feelings.

     The TV's mouth curled into a hesitant smile. “A performer?” The stars hummed in agreement above, and the fog swirled gently around his legs. The message was clear.

     He placed both hands on his chest, his screen flickering like an old transmission trying to tune in. “A TV…” He murmured. “I’m a TV. That’s what I am, right? I show people things. I… host?”

     This was stupid... what was he going with this idiotic idea? Still, he felt warmth, even happiness, at the idea. The signals were stronger as well. Bingo. He needed to be a TV host. For a moment, his screen went dark, silent. But then, his screen lit up bright and warm, displaying a little golden star in the center.

    “ I’m supposed to be a star! Not just wander in the snow, but shine. Host something. Bring life to this place… right?” He looked up at the stars. “Like you do.”

     His antennas twitched rapidly, picking up signals of approval from both the fog and the stars. He laughed. He laughed genuinely. He was relieved. He had found what he was, what he needed to do.

      He had found what he was.

     He once again felt the signal grow stronger, and he looked at where he thought the fog was.

      “You know, you’re like… a radio signal out here. Always there, I can't see you, but I can feel you.”

     He tapped his screen lightly, making a small crackle sound before chuckling softly.

     “I think I’ll call you… RadioMike.”

     The mist pulsed faintly, a gentle wave passing through the TV as if it approved. The TV grin widened, warmth filling his circuits. Still, he felt Mike watching him with interest, and to answer his question, a gentle push on his antennas made him twitch.

     "Hey, they are sensitive." He complained, but he heard the stars compliment Mike, which now confused the TV.

     He was glad that the stars had accepted Mike as he did, but why were they encouraging him to tease him? His antennas moved again as Mike approached and slowly touched one. The TV was lost once again.

      "My antennas?" Mike nodded. "What about them?"

     The stars corrected him. Saying it was only one. Mike once again touched it, and at that moment the TV's screen flickered wildly.

     "Antenna... That's what you will call me?" Mike nodded as well as the stars. "... I love it! My own name..." He said as he started to look at nothing in particular as he felt his screen become wetter. He smiled, finally feeling like someone.

     Mike buzzed again, nudging his shoulder with a swirl of fog that felt almost like a playful shove. Tenna laughed, the sound echoing softly over the frozen bridge.

     “Guess that makes you my producer, huh?” He teased, glancing toward the fog, feeling it trying to guide him and push him forward. “Producer Mike…”

     The nickname rolled off his tongue naturally, and the fog pulsed in a way that felt like laughter.

     “Alright then. ” Tenna said, standing taller, brushing snow off his frame. “If I’m a TV, and you’re my producer, Mike, then we’ve got a show to make. This fountain, this world, it’s ours to light up. No more wandering like I’m nothing. Time to broadcast something worth watching.”

     The stars sang softly above, and Mike wrapped a thin wisp of fog around Tenna’s arm, almost like a handshake. For the first time since waking up, Tenna felt purpose flicker to life inside him, not fully formed, but enough to guide his next step.

     “Let’s make this place shine, Mike.” He said with a grin. “Because every star needs a stage.”

Chapter 2: Fluttering Signal

     Day by day, Tenna started to get used to his way of life... even if he didn't have another to begin with. He started to understand the stars better, and he could deduce where Mike was without his antennas... most of the time.

     After Mike entered his life, things began to improve. That or Mike helped him understand how this world worked. Tenna was still unsure of what he was doing or what he would do, but he had a start. He needed to build a stage. At least this was what he hoped he needed to do. After all, he was a TV host.

     But how would he do that? The stars had told him to find a place that he liked and start from there. So he did. He found a vast land of snow that appeared to be straight. That would help him begin building without any drawbacks. But there was a problem ... how would he start it? Mike had told him to start using his powers ...

      What powers?

     Did he have powers? The signal had laughed. He was a TV, it had reminded him. So? So... he needed to broadcast his program. That made him hesitate... could he do that? Tenna started to concentrate as Mike and the stars had suggested and tried to imagine what he needed to broadcast. That's when he felt something pulsing in his screen. A house? No... a building program.

      That made Tenna ecstatic. He didn't know he could find channels. The program was short, though , or rather, he couldn't hold the signal for very long , but now he had a faint idea of what he needed to do. He needed a base for the stage, so he started to do so.

     Still, he couldn't believe he could show channels. They were short still, but Mike had assured him that he would start to hold the signal until finally having the channels inbred in him. This was cool, he had thought, feeling amazing and truly overpowered at what he could do.

     As he was cleaning the snow and trying to at least find the ground, his mind started to replay the conversation... he was happy that he started to understand what powers he had, but... how did Mike know what he could do? That day he had met him played again in his mind... he also knew how to switch on his voice...

     The stars also appeared to know his capabilities, which didn't help Tenna’s suspicions. Still, he didn't question it for long... until one day. When he had finally started to create something that looked like a base, he had heard something. Mike was nowhere to be found since he had told Tenna that he needed to return to the darkness from time to time, and the stars were not paying him any mind.

     So whatever his antennas had picked, it was something he needed to check out. Slowly, he followed the sound. He had noticed that he was moving silently around the snow, without him noticing . What he noticed , though, was that his instincts were screaming at him. They were warning him, saying to be ready, which made Tenna hesitant. Why was he moving towards something that he needed to be careful of?

     As he walked closer, he could feel his instincts screaming. Still, the curiosity was strong. Tenna finally found himself yet again at the bridge. His antennas still picked up something which was not Mike, but Tenna couldn't understand what yet. He walked slowly towards the darkness, trying to find the sound, only for his antennas to stop picking it.

     Tenna stopped, hesitating for a moment. He felt... weird. He didn't like the sound, but... he didn't like that it immediately stopped. He started to walk again towards the bridge, only for a loud sound to make him stop. He kneeled to the ground, holding his antennas, trying to stop the sound. It was deafening, almost painful. He didn't like it at all!

     He started to shake, feeling overwhelmed. Whatever caused that sound, it was powerful. He didn't like how bigger it was from him... how... hypnotic it sounded... suddenly something enveloped him, protecting him, and just like that the sound had stopped. Tenna’s screen lit up, trying to understand what had happened, and sure enough, Mike had covered him up. Enclosed him in the darkness.

     Tenna felt his warmth, trying to calm him, but his heart was preoccupied.

     "What was that?" He asked with a shaking voice, horrified by the sound.

     Mike didn't answer, simply continued sheltering him. From what, though?

     "What is there? Mike ... what is over there?" Tenna continued, trying to get answers, but Mike didn't answer, making him more annoyed than anything before. "You know what's going on, don't ya?"

     Mike shifted, finally letting Tenna out from his darkness, or rather, his radio waves, and Tenna adjusted his screen to the light. He turned to face the vast darkness, but Mike had stepped in front of him, blocking the signal.

     "Mike... why don't you tell me what's going on?" Tenna slowly stood up. "What are you trying to hide?"

     Mike didn't answer, just continued blocking the signal.

     "What’s over there?" Tenna asked.

     Mike had answered him this time, saying to stay on his territory. That made Tenna jolt. Territory? Sure, he remembered he had used that word before, but now... it held meaning. He felt himself stepping down.

     "Mike… why won’t you just tell me?” He asked. “You know what that sound was. You know.”

    The darkness around Mike shifted faintly, like a radio signal caught between stations, but there were no words. No explanation. Just that heavy, quiet static. Which now pissed Tenna more. He was ready to argue, ready to go fight, but something told him it was wrong to do. He wasn’t supposed to fight. Which shocked Tenna. His instincts were strong, but his mind told him to fight them. Told him to step back. Which he did.

     Even now, when that sound had almost shattered his screen, Mike had been the one to shield him. Maybe … maybe there was a reason for the silence. Still ... he didn't like the sudden change of power. It seemed Mike knew what he was doing. He wanted Tenna to stop, and he knew how to push his buttons, which made Tenna more irritated.

     Mike knew how to handle him. Knew what a TV could do. This caused more questions to form. Still... he wouldn't get any answer soon. So he decided to let it slide for this time. Still, there was a lingering feeling...

 

     Betrayal?

 

 

                        ...

 

 

 

     Without another word, Tenna turned away from the bridge. The snow crunched softly under his feet as he made his way back toward the half-built base. The stars overhead blinked faintly, watching, and for a moment, he thought he felt them humming reassurance through his antennas. He could feel Mike hesitate, but after a while, he followed him.

     That unanswered sound still echoed faintly in his circuits, but he pushed it aside... for now.

 

 

 

      -ooo-

 

 

 

     Tenna knew his curiosity was strong, too powerful to ignore. So when he finally found the right time to listen, he let it guide him. And of course, it brought him where he thought it would.

      To that damn bridge again.

     He knew that there was something there that he needed to find, needed to see. So he had found the right time to get to it alone. He made sure the stars didn't follow him and made Mike help him with the base. It was starting to look more straight than before, and he was sure that if he continued, he would make something big from it.

     Still, after that day, he had returned with Mike, his relationship with him had somewhat changed. Not for the good. The stars could see it and tried to make Tenna change his opinion. But this time, Tenna was stubborn. Mike didn't tell the whole truth to him, and that frustrated Tenna a lot. He was hiding something that Tenna needed to see.

     What he hated more, though, was the way Mike had talked to him that day, making him feel inferior. It was like he had a rank, and he needed to back down before anything happened. And that's what Mike was taking advantage of.

     Tenna didn't like that. Mike knew how to control him, it seemed ... which made the buttons inside him flash red. He didn't want to think that way, but the way Mike pushed the conversation was evidence enough for Tenna.

     Mike didn't want Tenna to see what was beyond the bridge.

      He had shown it the first time he met him .

      Don't come closer ...

      Tenna was stubborn ...

      He watched the bridge again. He was alone this time, he made sure of it. This time, he needed to be alone. He hated it, but he needed to see what was beyond the unknown. So he stepped again into the darkness, his antennas guiding him.

     He didn't know where he was going, but his instincts were strong this time . Covering his judgment. He walked and walked, feeling the darknes s. It was as cold as it was the first time he stepped on it. But this time, he wasn't scared, rather intrigued by it.

      Something shifted in the air.

     His antennas twitched. He had felt this change again when he had first come here. It was unwelcoming, cold, and ... horrific.

     Tenna froze. His antennas twitched wildly again, catching signals that didn’t make sense, broken static, distorted whispers that sounded almost like words but vanished before he could process them. He turned his screen left, then right, but nothing was there.

      Then came the sound.

     That annoying sound. That deafening sound.

     Whatever was here... it was dangerous.

     Tenna turned to face the sound, even if this time his antennas were warning him not to do that. He needed to trust them, but well ... he was too late.

     A strange white orb was over him, observing him. It was... hypnotic to say the least. It looked like an angel the way it glowed over Tenna. Still, the sound coming from it was too much for Tenna since his antennas tangled around each other trying to silence the hymn. Tenna was mesmerized by the orb, the way it moved around was something he had never seen, and the way it left traces around was something that Tenna had never seen before. Still, his instincts cried at him, so he finally decided to listen to them.

     He took some steps backwards, still facing the orb that was still doing its own thing. He decided to finally get away from it when suddenly that damn sound was heard, making Tenna stop in his tracks. He froze... he felt power through that scream... it was warning him.

     For what exactly? He would see soon enough.

     Suddenly, something slammed against the bridge behind him with a metallic shriek. Tenna spun around, heart racing, believing that he would see the orb. Only for this time to see deep, oppressive darkness. Which made Tenna finally realize that ... the orb had moved.

     He turned again around, and he saw it again there, levitating until finally it seemed to change shapes. It became longer, square-like, and then started to have teeth in it. Tenna wasn't an idiot. He didn't need to see more than he needed.

     The last thing he saw was the orb changing again to its original shape, before finally Tenna ran. The hum grew louder, vibrating through the floor. The bridge shuddered violently as invisible strikes ripped into it, metal screeching, fragments of snow and ice falling into the void below. Tenna’s antennas screamed warnings, pure static overwhelming his senses.

     Finally, slashes were heard around him. The orb was trying to hit him. And as Tenna was dodging the attacks with his antenna's help, he noticed the velocity of them ... that attack ... it was the one that had hit him the first time he was here.

     The orb had attacked him. Mike had protected him.

      Tenna was an idiot!

     Another invisible blow slammed down just ahead of him, cracking the bridge. Tenna skidded to a halt, panic flashing across his screen. He needed to fight the enemy. He couldn't outrun it like that! But this time, he could see it. He left out a growl warning the orb, which, to Tenna’s surprise, stopped its frantic movements. It was observing him, it seemed, and well, Tenna didn't need more to be told . He ran again away from the orb, trying to maintain his speed. His antennas picked up the orb, and he quickly dodged another attack, but this time, he managed to deflect it back.

     The orb didn't expect that, and as Tenna ran, the orb stopped.

     "✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄✋☠☝ (Interesting)" Someone said behind the orb. "🏱☜☼☟✌🏱💧(Perhaps)"

     With that, the orb moved more frantically. It finally followed Tenna, who was still running away, having not heard anything. This time, Tenna felt the orb had become hostile. More dangerous than before. It was searching for blood, his antennas cautioned him. He gritted his teeth, becoming more desperate trying to find his way out of the darkness. He needed to locate the stars!

     As he ran, the orb continued attacking. Its attacks were more frequent than before, deadlier as well. Tenna did his best to dodge them with his antennas, but some had managed to hit him. Still, Tenna didn't give up, he managed to deflect some as best as he could. Before he lost his hope, he managed to see the snow again. With newfound determination, he ran towards it.

     With a final, catastrophic roar, the unseen orb struck again, this time not aiming at Tenna but rather ... the bridge!   It shattered the bridge entirely. Before Tenna could do anything, Tenna’s footing gave way beneath him.

     He plummeted, screaming.

     Sparks flew as his frame tumbled against collapsing beams. His screen flickered violently, static roaring in his ears. Then, with a deafening crash, he landed hard on frozen ground below, surrounded by an eerie silence. He slowly lifted his head, making sure he hadn't destroyed his screen. His hands went to his antennas, making sure they were undamaged, and sure enough, they weren't. He coughed, finally feeling relieved that he had survived the crash, and as his vision cleared, he looked around.

      ...

     This place... he could see it. It wasn't surrounded by darkness. Sure, he could see the base of the bridge only, but... it was an upgrade from the darkness before. So... why was the base visible and not the bridge? Was the darkness not manifesting here? Whatever the case, Tenna slowly stood up, making sure that the slashes his attacker hadn't torn anything important. Sure enough, he looked ok. Only his shirt was cut open as well as his pants. He had some minor scratches, but he could repair them later.

     Now he needed to move before the orb found him again. Even if his mind was trying to understand what the orb was exactly, his antennas moved him. He walked steadily but faster, not liking the place he was currently in. As Tenna moved, the one who was observing from before seemed intrigued by the TV. He observed how he followed his instincts, but he was more intrigued by the fact that this particular TV wasn't affected by them. He used logic, perhaps emotion as well . A sentient TV.

     "🏱☼⚐💣✋💧✋☠☝. (Promising.)" The figure said. "☹☜❄🕯💧 💧☜☜ ☟⚐🕈 ❄☟☜✡ 🕈✋☹☹ ☼☜✌👍❄ (Let's see how they will react)"

     The figure simply moved its hand, and as Tenna was trying to think of a way to cross his path, he stumbled on his footing. Or rather felt like he was grabbed by something. Either way, he fell yet again deeper than before. He heard himself yell at the fall, but this time it was shorter. Still, this time he was surrounded again by darkness. It was more hollow than before, not enveloping him completely since the glow of his mouth on his screen eliminated the path ahead. A path that his antennas were telling him to be aware of. Or rather... not follow at all. But both knew that he didn't have anything better to follow.

     So, reluctantly, he followed it. He slowly walked the path, still weary of the darkness. Tenna walked for what felt like hours, the hollow darkness stretching endlessly. The only sound was the soft hum of his antennas. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, yet something heavier than curiosity pulled him forward.

     Finally, his screen caught a faint, flickering glow ahead. As he approached, the darkness parted slightly, revealing a nightmarish landscape, a vast graveyard of shattered, decaying televisions. Some were split open, wires dangling like entrails. Others were charred black, their screens cracke d. A few still flickered faintly, weak signals pulsing like dying heartbeats. The sight made Tenna’s screen dim. He slowly backed away, but he started to feel trapped in this small area.

     All of them ... they were like him. TVs! And all of them were dead! Tenna started to panic at the sight. This place ... why were they dead? Suddenly, he felt something move behind him, making Tenna jump from his place to face the enemy. Only to see a floating arm with a hole in its center. It was leaving trails of its body when it was moving . It looked like the orb, but that hand felt stronger, superior to him.

     "👎✋☞☞☜☼☜☠❄ ☼☜✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 (Different reactions)" The hand spoke, and Tenna, still being wary of the hand, tilted his head at it.

     He didn't know that language. Still, that thing was speaking, which meant it was sentient. Its tone was calm, but Tenna wasn't sure of what it wanted. So he simply and slowly tried to back away.

    "✡⚐🕆 ✌👍❄ 👎✋☞☞☜☼☜☠❄☹✡ ❄☟✌☠ ✌ ☠⚐☼💣✌☹ ❄✞ (You act differently than a normal TV)" The hand said.

     This time, Tenna felt the area becoming darker, harsher by the second. Meaning whatever that hand wanted wasn't good!

     "☟⚐🕈 ✌👌⚐🕆❄ 🕈☜ ☞✋✠ ❄☟✌❄✍ (How about we fix that?)" Then it snapped its fingers.

     From the wreckage above, the orb descended silently, landing with a heavy thud beside them. Before Tenna could react, the orb began to twist and warp, its form elongating, reshaping. With a grinding of metal and a flash of pale light, it transformed into a towering knight clad in jagged, pitch-black armor.

     Tenna felt death coming his way, and suddenly, without knowing, he roared at the intruder. He warned the knight with an animalistic voice, which the knight stopped for a moment to observe him, but Tenna wasn't having it. The sight of that knight made Tenna suddenly change tactics. He felt scared but also... territorial... he was threatened!

     The knight let out a growling roar that rattled the broken TVs around them. Tenna stumbled backward, panic flaring in his circuits, but this time he felt himself standing his ground. He didn't like how he felt, but ... his instincts moved him. He didn't know how he managed to block the sword coming his way, and he didn't know how he managed to throw away the knight, but he did. He felt somewhat proud of his strength, but he was still fighting. The knight saw how Tenna fought, and it seemed to shrug off his attacks, which made Tenna angry.

      A mistake.

     In a sudden blur of movement, the knight closed the distance and reached out, not to strike, but to grab one of his antennas. The knight bent it sharply downward, not enough to break, but enough to send a jolt of white-hot static through his body.

      Tenna wailed.

     Tenna’s growl deepened, static turning into an animalistic snarl. His body trembled, not from fear this time, but from something far more primal rising within him.

     With a sharp metallic snap, his hands extended, nails lengthening into curved, razor-sharp claws like a feral beast. His frame hunched, screen glowing with a savage red flicker. His speakers were loud enough to show that his static voices were not only yells ...

      But a war cry.

    The knight tilted its armored head, surprised, but before it could react, Tenna lunged. He slashed viciously, claws screeching against the knight’s dark armor, sparks flying. The force of his attacks drove the larger figure back a step. Tenna didn’t stop! He didn't think, his instincts finally overpowered him. He leapt, tearing into the knight’s forearm, denting the blackened metal with raw, desperate strength.

     The knight grunted, shoved him off, and swung its massive sword in a wide arc. Tenna barely ducked, feeling the blade cut through static-charged air just above his screen. He countered, digging his new claws into the knight’s thigh, ripping through armor plating before being kicked hard across the graveyard of shattered TVs.

     "☞✌💧👍✋☠✌❄✋☠☝... (Fascinating ... ) " The hand spoke as he watched the battle unfold. "☟☜ ✋💧 ❄☟☜ 🏱☜☼☞☜👍❄ ✞☜💧💧☜☹ (He is the perfect vessel.)"

    Tenna’s claws glinted in the dim light as he lunged again, feral rage guiding every move. He slashed and clawed with raw desperation, tearing into the knight’s blackened armor, but the towering figure barely staggered. It moved too quickly before Tenna could progress where exactly it was, and then ... the knight lifted him effortlessly, then slammed him down, once, twice, the ground cracking beneath each impact. Finally, it chucked him across the shattered TV graveyard. Tenna’s frame slid to a stop, trembling, static crawling across his screen like shattered glass, finally replacing the red color. The hand was more intrigued than before, seeing the reaction, and finally decided to step in.

     Meanwhile, Tenna tried to stand, claws scraping against broken plastic, but his strength faltered. The knight started to move too fast for Tenna to keep up, just like before, leaving trails behind its movements. It thundered closer, sword raised high for the finishing blow. Tenna snarled again, not backing away, ready to continue a losing battle.

     "☹✋☜💧." The hand spoke, but this time Tenna flinched.

     He understood what the hand had said ...

      Lies.

     Tenna’s antennas twitched again, but the one that the knight had bent sent a short voltage of electricity to his head. Tenna silently cried from the pain, but as the shock had ended, he could hear the entity clearly now.

     "You were being lied to..." It continued, and now, since Tenna’s attention was on the hand, the knight’s movement slowly dimmed down.

      "... lied..." Tenna slowly said, not feeling himself yet.

     The sudden change of emotion made him dizzy. He didn't know how he had changed or why, but he felt... feral just moments ago. His voice sounded like the first days he had gotten it. The entity was ecstatic over the quick change of personality.

     "Yours antennas..." The hand said, and Tenna immediately growled at the mention of them. "... seem to coordinate your feelings. Important to you."

     Tenna didn't like where the hand was going with this.

     "Keeping you for falling."

      "Falling?"

     "Not getting you feral."

      Now that's what made Tenna shocked . That's what Tenna was feeling moments ago ... just when ... the knight had snapped one of them ... he had immediately changed actions.

      "You are sentient." The hand continued as Tenna returned from his thoughts. "You act differently from the others."

      "Others?"

     The hand didn't speak as Tenna slowly understood what the hand meant . The other TVs around him. Tenna looked around him again from his now kneeling position and started to feel sick again.

      What did that hand want?

     "You are kept in the dark." The hand continued. "This path is not yours… but it can be corrected ."

     How did the hand know that? Tenna looked at the hand and then at the knight, who had backtracked from Tenna, letting the hand carry over. After all, it seemed that the hand was more in control than they were.

     Tenna felt betrayed indeed. Feral, darkness, his antennas, different from the others ... it was too much to adjust to. He was ... in the dark once again, alone, somewhere he started to call home ... this damned place was hell, he should not have entered it. He should have stayed oblivious to this. But he hadn't.

      "Freedom..." The hand extended slightly, palm open as if offering a choice. "... is what you after..."

     Tenna looked at the palm. It was offering him something he wanted. Information, a purpose... an explanation. He looked at the hand again and hesitated. Was he... The offer dangled before him like a lifeline. Slowly, his hand lifted toward the open palm.

    But just as his fingertips nearly brushed it, making his screen glitch for a moment with purplish and yellowish tones ...

    A surge of static shot through his bent antenna, snapping his mind into clarity. It was harsh, it was strong... it was breathtaking. The antennas buzzed in unison, screaming a warning only he could understand. Even if one was bent, one was hurting him... he would listen to them with his life.

     Tenna froze mid-reach, then yanked his hand back with a sharp growl.

     “I already have freedom! I’ve got the stars … and a signal that’ll guide me!"

     The hand tilted slightly, intrigued but unmoving. “False freedom. What you have is … a chain disguised as light.”

     “How do you know that?” He snapped, stepping closer now, strong despite his battered state. “How can you call it false if you’ve never felt it? Never lived it?”

    The words echoed in the hollow darkness, striking something unseen. The floating hand remained still for a long moment, silent, as if processing his outburst.

     "Interesting..." The hand lowered its proposal. "...do you know what freedom feels like?

     Tenna hesitated suddenly, but his antennas still buzzed, giving him confidence.

      "No..."

     "Then how can you reject something you don't know you have?"

     "Because... I have my freedom ... Freedom isn’t something you give me. It’s not something I take from you. It’s mine because I chose it.”

     The hand stilled, its hollow center widening as though it were … smiling.

     “I’ve got my stars...” Tenna continued, voice rough but unwavering. “A signal that leads me through the dark… That’s real freedom. Not your offer. Not your path. Mine. ”

     For a long moment, silence hung heavy. Then the hand’s fingers slowly curled inward, lowering its extended palm.

     “…perfect.” The entity finally said, a faint resonance in its tone. “Then hear this, your signal… can flutter. Even the brightest star can shiver under shadow...”

     Tenna’s screen flickered softly. He tilted his head, unsure what to make of it. He knew there was something else there that the hand didn't tell him. But Tenna knew what he meant ...

     “This is not the end...” The hand went on, its voice now like a whisper that filled the entire graveyard of broken TVs.

     “The prophecy has already overseen its arrival. Your signal… is not beyond reach, but if you are not careful… it may break before it leads you home. Beware of it.”

     Tenna clenched his fists. He didn’t know what prophecy it spoke of, but his antennas stayed sharp, absorbing every word. He knew what or who that signal was. The hand began to drift backward, dissolving into faint light. The knight followed suit, leaving Tenna alone, finally trying to collect his thoughts on what had happened and why it had. He needed answers, and the one who could provide them... was his signal.

     Before disappearing fully , the hand observed Tenna looking at its hands, or rather, his sharp claws, knowing that he had made the TV question his existence.

    “…The protector of the fountain… a perfect vessel… the one we need after so many failures.” And with it disappeared , feeling pleased with its creation .

     Tenna stood still for a long moment, his static-filled breaths the only sound. His antenna hurt, but thanks to the tent, he could understand that hand. Perhaps that's why the knight snapped it. Still, he was glad that it hadn't destroyed it. He felt pain, but he could feel things that he couldn't before. As he watched the dead TVs and noticed that none had antennas like his, he felt it ...

     A familiar signal ... a signal that was nervously moving around, searching for its host ...

      Mike.

     Tenna’s antennas twitched, his screen dimming as he looked at his only companion in this darkness. His voice came out quiet, almost trembling.

     “Mike…” He hesitated, then took a single, shaky step forward.

     Mike seemed distorted from the way Tenna was looking. He looked lost, battered, and most of all, Mike could feel the feral side in him. After all, his nails were still out. Mike looked shocked at Tenna, and then Tenna felt Mike not facing him. Almost like not wanting to look at him. Tenna felt hurt, but... he was still certain he had made the right choice. So he whispered, begging finally for answers.

       “…Is my signal… lost for you?”

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna didn't know that the stars could come down from the sky. Perhaps their influence had increased, and that's why they could reach him better. Either way, he was thankful to see them worried for him. After Mike had found him, Tenna and he walked back to the half-built stage. Tenna didn't want to talk, and Mike didn't seem to be ready to speak yet. Either way, Tenna wasn't in the mood. He just wanted to go home.

     Thanks to his new claws, he could easily climb the bridge. Mike seemed to be taken aback when he saw Tenna start to climb, but he didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Tenna could feel how the aura around him had changed. He felt more powerful indeed with his claws, but... why did he have them? Mike wasn't keen to speak after all this, and when Tenna had talked to him, he had stayed silent . Which made Tenna more anxious. Still, after he had memorized where the small cemetery was, he finally started to leave . With or without Mike.

     He had followed him. Tenna could feel that Mike was protecting him, looking around, but Tenna knew that the enemy had long been gone. Better ...

     As they were climbing in an awkward silence, which made Tenna annoyed and more puzzled, Tenna could notice that the bridge had lost some of its darkness. Meaning that it was hosing the enemy until now. It was a pleasure to know that they had left, but... that didn’t help Tenna’s nerves. They knew too much for his liking, and that knight was powerful . He wondered what that voice could do, if it was feared by the knight. He wasn't ready to know.

     What he was ready for, though, was about himself. Mike had answers, he knew that. After all that voice had said, the signal was something to be wary of. Meaning Mike. Tenna knew he needed to speak with Mike, but right now... he wasn't ready. He just wanted to go home. As he had finally climbed the bridge, he looked beyond it. He could see that the darkness had left it, and only beyond the place the knight destroyed was covered with it.

     As Tenna memorized the journey he did, so he could return if he wanted, he noticed a small trail of light circling him. He turned to see what exactly it was. His stars! They were smiling at him, and as they were circling him, he suddenly felt like some of his pain had subsided. Sure enough, he saw a green light coming from his body, and as he turned to look at his scars, they were gone. He didn't know that the stars could heal.

     He opened his hand, ready to hold some, but he could see them hesitate when they saw his claws. Or rather, they were intrigued by it. Either way, he assured them that they were fine. Finally, some hopped on his hands, and Tenna watched with a small smile. They were laughing at him, showing that they were glad to see him again. Tenna could feel his screen becoming wet. Some patted his screen while Tenna wiped his tears. Finally, a jolt came from his antennas. He looked up and saw the stars trying to heal his broken antenna, but when he saw that their face were in shock, he knew... his antenna was beyond repair.

     Still, even though he felt pain, he was glad that, even though broken, it was still functional. Perhaps even working better. The stars danced around him, trying to calm him, making him forget his antenna, and calling him to the stage to rest . Which Tenna agreed. He wanted to rest, forget about the day, just ... calm for a bit. He still wanted answers, but right now he wanted to change clothes and rest .

     As Tenna returned to his stage, he felt Mike still following, observing him. Tenna didn't care at this point. As he rested, finally letting himself go to sleep, feeling safe, Tenna dreamed. It was something he didn't know he could do. He saw people laughing, strange creatures moving around him, and sure enough, he saw other TVs around him. Tenna woke up confused for a moment.

      What a weird dream ...

     "It wasn't a dream..." Someone said, and Tenna’s antennas move up in surprise.

     That voice ... he had heard it before ...

      Mike.

     Tenna turned to where he believed Mike was and felt Mike trying to guide him somewhere. So he followed. They arrived at the fountain where Mike stopped. Tenna sat down, feeling its warmth for some time as he waited for Mike to speak. Each day, he experienced something new. The stars had forms, Mike could speak, and he ... had claws.

     "Do you know what you are?" Suddenly, Mike spoke through his circuits, meaning that only Tenna could listen to him.

     Tenna hesitated. "A TV."

     "True. A TV meant to be a star. A host. Right?"

     Tenna hesitated again. What was Mike heading at? He nodded. Mike seemed pleased, but Tenna could feel the aura slightly become cold.

     "You are the first TV to have agreed to this."

     "First TV?" Now that's weird. What did that mean?

     "You saw it...the broken TVs. You are not the first to come here."

     "Those... were alive?"

     "They were... but they were not meant to stay."

     "I... I don't understand..."

     Mike chuckled. "Of course you don't. You're different than them."

     Tenna’s antennas twitched. "Mike... please. Stop talking in riddles. Tell me the truth."

     Mike fell silent for a moment, but Tenna was patient. He needed to know the truth. He was willing to wait. Mike seemed to feel the determination, so he finally spoke.

     "You are right. It is finally time to come clean. Broadcast the right signal."

     Mike seemed to be in thought for a moment, trying to put his thoughts in order.

     "This land is called the TV world. A world where TVs should exist. But there is a problem. TVs can't co-exist with other TVs. "

     "Why is that?"

     Mike smiled. "TVs are feral."

     Tenna seemed confused, but as he started to think, he remembered how he felt when his antenna was destroyed. He felt... different.

     "TVs want attention. That's their purpose. To be watched. That's why when new TVs come, they become feral, destroying each other for the spotlight. Some can control their urges, but eventually they lose their grip. Still, I have seen many that were not feral, or can control their urges perfectly fine. The new TVs are calmer than the old ones. Perhaps it is thanks to this." Mike pointed.

      "The antennas?" Tenna asked, and Mike seemed to nod.

     "They can hold on to a better signal, making them stable. Others are better equipped with signal boosters. Still, that doesn't mean that they can't become feral. You ... you are one of the best TVs I have come across. Your antennas seemed to be sentient, more keen to help than just stay silent. That's why you haven't succumbed to urges. Until well when..."

     "That knight hurt them."

     Mike seemed taken aback by the sentence, but he continued.

     "Exactly, you lost your signal. That's why you now have claws."

     Tenna looked at them.

     "You can also do other stuff. Like changing sizes, changing body shapes, broadcasting harsher colors, and shows. You are still young, so your powers will develop slowly."

     "So... I always had these?"

     Mike nodded "Yes... but you never needed them until now."

     "Why haven't you told me this?"

     "Because... I was afraid to tell you that. You were the most sentient TV I have ever seen. You control your urges the best way I have seen. You still do... after all that had happened. When I turned your voice, I didn't expect you to talk... I thought you would growl. I was taken aback by that. The way you talked, the way you acted... You are different than the other TVs... You were searching for a purpose, a future, which many TVs don't... You are the best fit for this world. A true protector for this fountain."

     "Why am I the protector of this fountain?"

     Mike hesitated.

      "Is this prophecy..."

     "How do you know that?" Mike suddenly shifted, and the area became colder.

     "The fight..." Tenna simply said, and Mike seemed to look elsewhere. "What was that thing? Why did you protect me from them?"

     Mike felt silent, but he continued with a soft voice.

     "That was the creator of this place. Or rather the darkness. The dark world. The knight you saw is the one who oversees the world, seeing if they are in order. They are a powerful foe , so I wouldn't go against them. I knew they were overwatching how you were doing, so I tried to keep them at a distance, but... it is better this way. Finally, meeting them and understanding what they are. Knowing not to go against them..."

     "And the hand?"

      "Hand?" Mike seemed to be shocked.

     "Someone was speaking to me with... a language that I didn't know. But when the knight snapped my antenna, I could understand them. They were also speaking in riddles. Telling me to reach freedom."

     The area becomes colder almost to a freezing degree. Tenna huddled from the temperature as he knew whatever he had said had angered the signal.

      "And your answer?" Mike's voice echoed in the fountain, becoming too deafening for Tenna, but he answered.

     "I have my own freedom."

     The temperature started to become warmer, but Tenna could feel how anxious Mike still was.

     "That... was... someone without a name. God among us. Don't ever, ever, accept his freedom. You will... lose... yours."

     Tenna was watching the fountain, feeling overwhelmed by Mike's words. He was thankful that his antennas had warned him, had brought him back to reality. He started to laugh, making Mike shocked by his change of behavior, but Tenna was relieved.

     "My antennas are what keep grounded, it seems."

     Mike’s signal hummed low. “The antennas you have… they’re not just for pulling signal. They’re a gift, it seems. Your own power. A power to overcome anything that tries to drag you into darkness.”

     "And the prophecy… where do I fit into that?” Tenna clenched his claws.

     The signal around them shifted uneasily. The air became heavy as finally Mike spoke.

     "The prophecy... it is something that is a curse and a gift to know. Something we can't change. I’ve tried to avoid it for as long as I could. But if I..."

     Tenna looked at his reflection in the fountain, his claws glinting faintly in the fountain’s glow. “I don’t want to learn it."

     Mike seemed to be taken aback. "But... you need..."

     "Maybe... some things should stay hidden... right?" Tenna felt his chest heavy.

     He wanted to know it, but the way Mike was hesitating to tell him meant that whatever it was saying was not good.

     "I have chosen my freedom... and I will stay with it."

     Mike paused, almost reluctant to continue. “…I think you’re the one it speaks of. The one meant to stand against what’s coming. After all ... I haven't seen a TV that strong like you.”

    Tenna’s antennas pulsed softly from the praise. A faint smile crept into his face as he leaned back, looking at the fountain again.

     “So that’s it then… I came here for something after all.”

     “Tenna… this path won’t be easy. The darkness doesn’t let go without a fight.”

     Tenna tilted his head toward the stars above, his antennas catching their faint shimmer. “Good, I didn’t come here for easy... after all, I have them and you by my side..." Tenna moved his hand up and offered it to Mike. "...right?"

     Mike watched the hand, but Tenna could feel his decision. He felt the signal held it tight, like a reminder that from this point on, he would stick with Tenna.

     "I am sorry, Tenna... you are right... How can a TV host start his show without their producer?"

     Tenna laughed at that, feeling relieved finally. Mike seemed determined again as his signal grew stronger, more noticeable.

     "From this point on, you will tell me everything." Tenna said as the stars finally made their appearance around him, feeling the conversation had ended.

     Mike had nodded. "I won't let your signal get lost again."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

As you can see in my headcanon all TVs are feral but Tenna can control his side. Plus until now Tenna is a normal robot. His screen is still black with a small glow that its his mouth. We will see later how he will get his fangs, his nose and well tail. Each one appears differently. But a normal TV has only claws and a tail. Plus they become more animalistic like in the body. Tenna as mentioned will get each part later. Also I like the idea that one of his antennas is bent making him get better signal than before. He will use it in another way also later ;)
Still, we still need to see how Tenna become the TV host he is. So, in the next chapter we will see how he became a Dremuur family member ;). See you in the next one!
(And yes that was the roaring knight and Gaster... and as they said... we will see them again. :( )

Chapter 3: Chosen By The Light

Notes:

Hello! I am really happy to say that this chapter turned amazingly. It is long as well so get ready. :)

     Tenna wiped his screen. The stage was finally ready! It was still the base, but he could stand on it and host a small show if he wanted. The stars celebrated with Tenna moving around him with smiling faces, while Mike looked at it with proud eyes. Tenna could feel his screen shine for a moment from the praise, but he knew he wasn't done yet. He still needed more. After all... this was only the base.

     "It's small..." Tenna finally said, silencing the stars that now watched him, confused.

     Mike had heard that. " And? Stars start small!" He shouted happily, and the stars continued their dance.

     Tenna looked at it, still feeling proud, but something was missing. He could feel Mike shift behind him and sit on his shoulder.

     "Ok, superstar. What's the problem? "

     "I... I don't know. Truly... something is missing that's all." Tenna grimaced, but Mike simply chuckled.

     "Yep, I know what you mean."

     Tenna’s antennas moved upwards. "Really?"

     "Yep. The stage can't work without the TV star and well... it's audience."

     That word in the end... that was what Tenna was missing. The audience. He needed to build seats! He facepalmed himself and, hearing the loud tap on his screen, he looked at his claws. Mike had shown him that he could retract them, not fully, but enough not to hurt someone without meaning it.

     Tenna turned to where the supposed seats should be and growled, annoyed. He was too focused on building his stage that he hadn't thought about where the rest of the people should stay. His audience and his backstage helpers. He sat down, annoyed, as his antennas moved down with a harsh sound.

     Mike laughed at his childish behavior while the stars continued doing their thing around Tenna. Tenna crossed his arms and shrugged forward, more annoyed than before.

      "Don't laugh! I forgot about everything a stage needs!" Tenna barked at Mike, who had sat down next to him.

     "You did."

     Tenna looked at him, shocked. "So you agree!"

     Mike laughed again, a sound pleasing to Tenna’s antennas. "Yeah, you forgot. But that’s not a problem.”

    Tenna tilted his screen, puzzled. “Not a problem? Mike, a stage without seats, without anyone to watch... what kind of show is that?”

     Mike floated up slightly, tapping the tip of one antenna with a misty hand. “A beginning, superstar. That’s what this is. The rest… it’ll manifest when the right audience finds you.”

     Tenna blinked, his screen flickering faintly. “Manifest? What do you mean? Like magic?”

     “Something like that!” Mike laughed, and Tenna could feel him suddenly turn serious. “See, you’re not building this stage just for you only or for the stars or for me even… You’re building it for them.”

     “Them?”

      “The Lightners."

     Ah yes. Mike had explained that to Tenna. They were in the dark world, so they were Darkners. They meant to guide the Lightners forward. From outside this place. From beyond the static. In a place they couldn't reach but could perform for them. Or rather, Tenna could.

     The dreams he had were a glimpse into the other world. He could see some things, but not very well, and only when he was asleep. Mike told him that he would be able to see better when he grew stronger and better at hosting signals. Broadcasting shows, as he said. Tenna knew he could do that, after all, that's what helped him build the stage, but he couldn't understand why he couldn't keep them.

     After all, Mike was here with him. Mike had said that he was his signal, but when Tenna was ready to broadcast, he would expand better then. So it was Tenna’s doing when that would happen. The stars had agreed, telling him that this world exists because of him, which put more weight on him. He was responsible for this world...

     "The audience you seek will come to you. You will know that when it is time. But until then, you need to perform, show your potential! Be the host they need!"

     "That's why I needed to build a stage?"

     Mike floated closer, his mist curling gently around Tenna’s broken antenna like a reassuring touch. "Exactly! When the Lightners come, the seats will appear, and the crowd will gather. You just have to start. Show them you’re ready.”

     Tenna’s claws flexed slightly as he glanced back at his bare-bones stage. The stars hovered, silent for once, as though holding their collective breath. Waiting for Tenna to say something. Tenna watched them and then Mike, confused.

     “Start… with what?”

    Mike’s voice lightened, playful now. “With a show, of course! A rehearsal to warm up your circuits. And first things first…” His fog swirled dramatically around Tenna, spiraling like a magician revealing a secret. “…you need new clothes. Can’t have the future superstar performing in dusty, claw-ripped rags, can we?”

     The stars laughed, now circling Tenna as well. Tenna watched them happily, but he could feel his antennas hang lower than before, with embarrassment written over them. He... didn't have any other clothes... only white shirts and black pants. Mike could understand Tenna by the looks of it as he played with his mist, creating shapes that looked like flowing coats.

    “Not just a costume. An outfit fit for a Lightner’s star. Something that says Tenna is here, ready to shine.” He spoke to the stars, which happily accepted the challenge.

     The stars giggled and zipped around Tenna, leaving behind tiny trails of light that wove together into fabric. Piece by piece, something began to form over Tenna’s frame, soft, smooth, and gleaming faintly in white.

     When it finally settled, Tenna looked down to see himself dressed in a sleek showman’s outfit. A fitted black suit jacket with shining buttons and sharp pleated trousers. His old shirt has now been replaced with a new white shirt, smooth and soft. A small bowtie had appeared neatly under his screen, and polished shoes replaced his old shoes.

     He was dumbfounded at his new outfit, and as he was touching it, he turned to the stars, which looked happy with the results.

     "I didn't know you could do that!" He said enthusiastically as he twirled around, showing his outfit to his friends.

     The stars seemed embarrassed but were happy seeing Tenna’s reaction to their masterpiece. Mike seemed pleased as well. Tenna stared at his reflection at a shard of glass he had found days before.

     “This… feels weird.” He muttered, tightening his tie nervously and throwing away the glass.

    Mike’s fog puffed up proudly. “Weird? Superstar, you look like you stepped right out of a classic broadcast. You’re perfect.”

    The stars cheered, swirling around. They moved towards where the seats should be and waited. It looked like they were already the audience. Mike floated over to an imaginary microphone, ready to start the show. Tenna seemed nervous at that, but Mike gestured at him.

     “Alright, lights on you! Let’s see you perform. Don't worry! Just shows us what you got!”

     Tenna hesitated, glancing at the barebones stage. Mike gave him a thumbs up, giving him courage while the stars were celebrating. He straightened his tie, cleared his nonexistent throat, and… started.

 

     It wasn’t good.

 

     Tenna tried to strut across the stage like a confident host, but his new shoes made him slip. He attempted a flourish with his claws, only to accidentally slice through a bit of the glowing fabric on his sleeve. When he tried to deliver a grand introduction, his voice cracked into awkward static, making even the stars wince.

     Mike seemed to be lost for words. Not disappointed but shocked at how Tenna was acting. He hadn't seen a TV struggle at this. Tenna was terrible at this, making Mike hesitant. He noticed that Tenna wasn't speaking when on stage like he was in mute , and the way he was moving was too old for the TV. Something was wrong, and Mike needed to find the reason.

     Tenna stumbled through another attempt at a joke, which fizzled out into nothing but faint static. He froze mid-step, looking at his silent, grimacing audience. His antennas drooped, and a faint static sigh escaped him.

    “I… I’m no good at this…” Tenna finally muttered, shoulders slumping.

     The stars floated down quietly, trying to pat his screen in comfort. He looked at his cut sleeve as Mike was circling him with a purpose that Tenna didn't know.

     “Why would any Lightner ever watch this?”

     "Why didn't you speak?" Mike asked Tenna, who didn't understand the question.

      "Speak?"

     "Yeah. Why were you in mute ? All I could hear was static."

     Tenna seemed to think about it, but he simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I tried to perform, and all I could do was... dance? I think..."

     As Tenna was thinking about what he was meant to do, Mike seemed perplexed over the answer he got. This... was not normal. Tenna was a new TV. Newer, at least for the ones he had seen. He shouldn't have been acting in mute , he should have spoken. He had audio, color, and a remote. So... why was he acting like he was in a silent film? He needed to investigate this.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

     Tenna didn’t give up.

    Day after day, he dragged himself onto the half-built stage, still wearing that shining outfit that Mike had patched up with the stars’ light. Each rehearsal was the same... he tried to strut, crack jokes, pull off gestures with his claws. But it always ended in awkward static and strained silence. The stars, ever supportive, would still cheer, but their worried glances were impossible to miss.

    Even Mike had grown quieter. He would float behind the stage with a softer presence now, not wanting to crush Tenna’s determination but knowing that nothing seemed to click yet. Still, he felt like Mike sometimes was watching him with worry. Tenna knew that something was wrong with him. A TV could perform! After all, they want attention, and the way Tenna was acting... was getting him none of it.

     Even in his dreams, he could see the Lightners passing in front of him, not paying him mind. He could see some standing and watching him for a while, but none had sat longer than a few seconds. He was still... irrelevant in their eyes.

      But why?

     One evening, long after the last rehearsal, Tenna wandered away from the stage alone. He found himself at the edge of the fountain, sitting down where the warmth seeped into his cold frame. His claws scraped against the quiet stone next to it. His suit, which he still wore, was shining with the fountain’s glow, but he wasn't feeling like a star at that moment...

     “Why… can’t I do this?” He muttered to himself, voice low and crackly. His antennas drooped, faintly sparking. “I’ve tried everything… but it’s never enough. How’s a Lightner supposed to want to watch this?”

     He stared at his reflection in the glowing water. For the first time, he wondered if maybe this world had made a mistake choosing him. He looked at the fountain searching answers but he knew he wouldn't get any. Was he truly the one the prophecy foretold? Mike seemed to think so. Even that entity and knight seemed to believe so... yet why was he not... feeling important?

     Maybe a sign would help. He looked at the fountain and closed his eyes, trying to search for the other world. He caught a glimpse of it. He was not in his usual place this time, though, which made Tenna hesitant and hopeful. Maybe he had managed something. Either way, he felt lonelier than before. He couldn't see other TVs around as he had previously.

      Weird... but it was a sign.

     With a newfound hope, he stood up and started to walk back to the stage. Maybe now he could start anew. As he walked through, he felt something hitting him. Not from this world, though... but from the light world. It was like... he was slapped in the head. As he put his claws over the side of his head, trying to ease the pain, he felt something new on him. Like a paper. As he tried to pinpoint what it was, he felt it disappear. Tenna was now more confused than anything.

      That was strange...

     Tenna lowered his claws and just turned to look at the fountain. Was it trying to say something to him? He wasn't sure... Either way, Tenna finally decided to start going back to his stage when he stopped moving. His antennas twitched.

     Something was watching him.

    Tenna froze mid-step, antennas twitching again, straining for a signal. The warm glow of the fountain softened, and from the edge of the darkness, a faint shimmer floated closer.

      A... star?

     It was not like the others that happily spun around him during rehearsals, though. This one had rough, uneven edges, like it had been tossed aside and forgotten. On its surface, barely legible, were stamped words which Tenna couldn't read well, but he could make out '50%... TV.'

     The star hovered a few feet away, tilting as if measuring him up. Its glow pulsed with a judgmental rhythm. Tenna hadn't seen a star like this one. It was brighter than the others. He couldn't understand why, for the moment, but he was mesmerized by it.

     The silence stretched. The star slowly circled him, making a quiet “tsk” sound as it floated by his patched-up outfit and drooping antennas. Finally, it spoke with a voice that dripped with smug amusement.

     “This is the so-called stage star?” It spun lazily in the air. “Pfft… I’ve seen broken radios with more flair.”

     Tenna blinked but said nothing. He just stood there, silent, claws resting awkwardly at his sides. That star could talk unlike his. And it was... an annoying one. The star kept judging, its glow flickering brighter.

     “Look at you... supposedly special, yet moping around like a forgotten coupon. I mean, wow. No wonder the Lightners pass you by.”

     Tenna’s antennas twitched, but he still didn’t speak. The star knew a lot, and that made him question it more. Still, it seemed to be more ready to roast him than anything.

    “What, nothing to say?” The star pressed, voice louder now. “Figures. Half-off merch doesn’t usually talk anyway."

     “That’s kinda mean…” Tenna’s static-laced voice crackled through the quiet.

     The star froze mid-spin. Its glow flickered wildly as it drifted back toward him. “…Wait… what?”

     “I said.” Tenna repeated, standing a little straighter. “That's mean.”

     The star tilted, dumbfounded for a moment, before letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed around the fountain.

     “You’re telling me this dusty clearance TV actually talks?! Hah! That’s rich. I thought you were just another broken set ready for the trash heap.”

     The star suddenly jolted violently, spinning backward as if someone had thrown it. “HOLY KNIGHT! YOU CAN TALK?!”

     Tenna tilted his head, confused. “…Yeah?”

     The star zipped closer, practically bumping into his screen. “No, no, no. That’s not normal. TVs don’t just talk!”

      "I can!" He announced proudly, and the star seemed to relax a bit.

     "Whoa! You have humor as well, TV." The star joked, but Tenna’s antennas twitched, annoyed.

     “…My name isn’t ‘TV.’”

     “Oh, what, you’ve got a name too?” The star sneered, spinning closer.

      “…Tenna.”

     The star froze, its glow dimming for a second before crackling bright again. “Tenna? They actually named you? Wow… guess they’ll slap a label on anything these days.” It floated up near his screen, grin sharp in its voice. “…Name’s Fifty. Because that’s what you’re worth, half a star, half a show, half the price. And apparently… I’m stuck to you, buddy.”

     Tenna stayed quiet, antennas twitching uneasily as the new star hovered just inches away, judging him.

 

     "What?"

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

     When he had asked for a sign, Tenna didn't mean for a bad one. And yet the fountain had given him the worst one. He didn't like that star at all. He was rude, annoying, and loud. He was insulting him every second, and he wouldn't shut up. Fifty floated smugly in front of Tenna’s screen as they walked toward the stage.

    He didn't like him at all, but Fifty seemed to follow Tenna around, like his stars. Like... he was really glued to him. The strange star zipped up, practically plastering itself to his face. He must have understood what Tenna was thinking as he showed himself to him.

     “See this? Right here? I’m a sticker, pal! A one-time offer and a good deal!” Fifty said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

     Tenna tilted his screen, utterly confused. “ Sticker? Like… something you peel off?”

     “Ding ding ding!” Fifty spun mockingly. “I’m stuck on you like a clearance tag. Half-price special, defective model, you know the deal.”

     "So you are glued to me?" Tenna muttered, and Fifty nodded, making Tenna more irritated. So he couldn't get rid of him!

     "Can’t scrape me off, superstar.” The star said as Tenna flicked his claw at the star, throwing Fifty some meters away.

      Just great!

     As they reached the stage, the usual stars twinkled around in greeting, but froze mid-dance the moment they saw Fifty. One by one, their cheerful light dimmed, murmurs rippling through the group. Mike appeared from his usual mist, floating closer with visible tension. Tenna seemed nervous at the sudden change of emotion, but thankfully, it wasn't focused on him.

      “…You.” Mike’s voice wasn’t cheerful this time.

     Fifty grinned, spinning in a mock bow. “Ah, Radioactive boy! Long time no see. Miss me?”

     "Why are you here!?" Mike shouted, and Tenna felt the area becoming darker. "This... can't be happening! We were doing just fine!"

     "Fine, my ass. Your boy here is going to the trash heap, it seems. And I am trying to prevent that." Fifty mocked, but he was thrown away as Mike came closer to Tenna.

     Tenna turned to watch in horror as Mike’s waves were stronger, harsher than before. He heard Mike hiss at the sticker, which was levitating at a faster speed, showing that it wasn't affected by the signal at all.

     "Oh, cry me a river, signal idiot! Your TV is marked, and you can't do anything for it." The star mocked, and Mike suddenly hit the sticker, making it crash hard into the snow.

     " MIKE, hey!" Tenna barked at him. He didn't like Fifty sure, but he wasn't going to resort to violence just to get rid of him.

     Mike’s waves cool down for a moment as he turned to face Tenna. “Tenna… he’s the reason you’re marked.”

     Tenna hesitated. "Marked?"

      "He is the curse."

     Tenna stepped back, antennas sparking nervously. “Curse? What’s that supposed to mean?”

     Mike pointed toward Fifty, who had come back from his fall looking like nothing had happened. “That thing has been stuck to faulty Darkners before. Always the same mark, discounted, incomplete.”

      "What?" Tenna asked in horror as Fifty laughed.

     "You see, TV trope, you have been marked with a fifty percent off! You are sold at half the price, because you are faulty. You need to be grateful that you weren't sent immediately to the trash bin. You are given an opportunity to be sold even if you are beyond repair."

     "What does that suppose to mean? I am perfectly functional!" Tenna barked, static buzzing harshly. “I can still fight and move and talk! Better than the other TVs! I’ve been building, practicing, I’m not...”

     Fifty moved his hand in front of him to silence Tenna. He pointed at Tenna’s antennas, and that's when everyone understood the reason. His bent antenna!

     "See this old thing? That's your downfall!"

     Tenna's screen flickered violently, annoyed at the sticker. "My antennas have saved me countless times! I would trust them with my life! Just because you show up willy-nilly and accuse them of being my doom doesn't change the fact that they are functioning perfectly fine! I will not let you insult them!"

     Fifty seemed taken aback by Tenna's remarks, and he didn't seem to be scared of Tenna’s claws finally being out. He looked more annoyed at Tenna's words than anything. After all, he had said that he had never met a TV that could talk. Well, bad for him, Tenna could speak back. As Tenna was ready to continue speaking, Fifty zipped forward suddenly, grabbing Tenna’s broken antenna. The touch made a static crackle violently, jolting Tenna’s screen. Tenna screamed at it, and his screen blacked out.

     Darkness swallowed everything, yet faint whispers rippled through the void. A dream, Tenna thought as he focused to see through the darkness. Sure enough, he saw two silhouettes. Lightners. They were looking at him with close attention and pointed at him. Tenna tried to memorize them, remember what they looked like. They seemed determined as they were pointing at him.

    Before he could see more, a sudden jolt of static tore him from the darkness. He gasped, clawing at the snow around him as his vision returned. Mike’s shape leaned over him immediately, waves soft and trembling.

      “Tenna! You’re awake, thank the fountain…” Mike’s voice cracked slightly, no longer sharp or angry, just scared.

     Tenna tried to respond, but his screen only hummed weakly. He could see the others, his stars surrounding them like a glowing barrier. Fifty was thrashing midair, caught and immobilized by countless strands of starlight that wrapped tightly around his glowing body. He looked at them in shock. He didn't know the stars could fight. It seemed that they were furious with Fifty.

     But something was different.

     For the first time since Tenna had met him, he saw it... color. He wasn't white. Fifty was covered in streaks of red, and his body was gold. Tenna hesitated as he looked at him, puzzled, and then looked around his surroundings. Everything was black and white, even his stars. His suit, the snow, the stage. Everything was white and black. Only Fifty was glowing in color. And just as he had seen it, it had disappeared...

      And that's when it hit him.

     Tenna’s static voice was faint when he spoke. “…I’m half… b ecause I don’t have that?”

     Mike stopped talking to him and watched him with interest. What did that mean? Fifty seemed to be in a loss as well as his stars, which still held Fifty under their starlight.

      "Have what?" Mike asked, and Tenna didn't know how to explain it.

     "That... red and yellow?" Tenna muttered and Mike seemed to be taken aback like everyone else.

      "Tenna... what is the color of the stage?" Mike asked slowly, but it seemed that something buzzed in his fog. Like a realization.

      "... grey?" Tenna continued, and that's when Mike moved swiftly around.

      "That’s it! That's the reason your rehearsal was always in mute! You are broadcasting shows in black and white!" Mike floated closer to Tenna, feeling lighter than before.

     "You... you’re not supposed to be black and white.” Mike’s voice was shaky but certain, fog rippling with every word. “You’re a new TV model. You’re supposed to broadcast in color. You weren’t showing your real picture.”

     Tenna’s screen flickered with confusion. “But… I am showing it. This is how I see everything. Always been like this.”

     Mike tilted his head, floating around Tenna’s screen as if inspecting every pixel. “No… It’s not right. Something’s off inside you. A missing… connection. You should see color, you should show color... maybe a wire not connected.”

     Mike moved Tenna on his back and, although Tenna’s comments, he listened to him. Mike opened his suit, and now Tenna seemed hesitant. Mike seemed to smile at him, showing him that he knew what he was doing as he looked at Tenna’s chest, or rather, his chest plate. There were two, one with a heart and the other, which he could open and see inside Tenna’s body. As he opened it, he hesitated... There were a lot of wires. He knew TV's anatomy, but Tenna’s seemed to be a little different.

     “Yeah, that tracks. Half price because you’re half-wired. Somebody forgot to finish the job, or rather stole the job that was done.” Fifty chimed, but his tone had gone serious.

     Mike whipped around. “And you would know?”

     Fifty smirked faintly, though not as smug as before. “Buddy, I’ve been slapped on more TVs than you’ve had signal jams. I can smell a bad circuit from across the lot.”

     "And yet you didn't notice it before." Mike teased as he moved some wires to have a better view. Tenna seemed to be affected by it, hissing at the touch, so Mike tried to be gentle.

     Fifty looked down, defeated. "True... got corrected. Doesn't change that I am still stuck on that TV of yours."

     The stars tightened their starlight around him, making Fifty wince but keep talking. “Hey, easy, sparkle squad! You want him fixed or not? ’Cause like it or not, I’m the only one here who knows how these guts work.”

     "And why should I trust you?" Mike asked him, and Fifty suddenly fell silent. "You shocked him before. And even though this... you are still a curse."

     Fifty seemed to think about it. Tenna watched the star hesitate on what it wanted to say.

     "He is trying to prevent me from going to the trash bin, right?" Tenna said, and the others focused on him. "He gives me... an opportunity?"

     "Why are you siding up with him?" Mike asked, concerned and annoyed.

     "Yeah, you are too naive, Crt." Fifty continued, but Tenna pointed at him.

     "You seem to know more about how the light world works. You have a better connection to it than I do. You could easily leave me alone, and yet you follow me around."

     "Yeah, news flash, I am stuck on you."

     "You are exactly. Meaning you will come with me if I fall."

     Fifty jolted at that. "How do you know that?"

     "I don't. You seem to know it, though. Meaning you know how to prevent my downfall. So... that's why you want to help. To save your ass."

     Fifty closed his mouth and bit it. It seemed that Tenna wasn't one hundred percent right, but he could see that Mike was more convinced than before.

      "Fine... I want to help you not only because I want to save my ass, but I haven't seen a TV talk before. It would be a missed opportunity to lose this model, don't ya agree, hmm?" Fifty mocked and looked at the stars still holding him hostage.

     Even though his outburst, Fifty seemed to hide more, and Tenna wasn't sure what exactly. But for now, he would focus on the moment. The stars hesitated, exchanging silent murmurs between them. One by one, their glow softened, loosening the strands. Fifty floated down slowly, rubbing his arms where the starlight had burned.

     “Thank you for the hospitality.” He muttered, brushing off his glow before zipping up to Tenna.

     "I thought you could multiply, and that's why you can't die. " Mike said to him, still skeptical of him.

     "True, but my current self will, and I don't like the feeling of it." Fifty said to him as he focused on Tenna’s wires. “Now let me work.”

     Mike fell silent as he watched Fifty move around and took in what exactly he was doing. Tenna was feeling weird as he could feel his wires moving, but this time it was pleasant. Like a maintenance. Suddenly, he heard another hatch open and then heard Fifty and Mike grimace. That wasn't good.

     "That’s no good." Fifty said, and Mike continued.

     "He should have that one, shouldn't he?"

     "What exactly?" Tenna asked, and Fifty came to view.

     “Yeah, thought so… Main color output wire? Gone. Just gone. Either someone yanked it out, or you came off the factory line missing it.”

      "Tenna? Don't you remember seeing any color before?" Mike asked, and Tenna hesitated.

     "I think I could. After all, why can I see Fifty's color now?" He said, and Mike nodded.

      "Weird indeed..."

     "Either way, this is easy to fix!" Fifty shouted as he closed Tenna’s hatch harshly, which made Tenna hiss in pain.

      "Hey!" Tenna barked at Fifty, but he interrupted him.

      "Turn around!" He ordered as he tried to push Tenna to do so.

     Tenna did as he was told and was surprised when Fifty moved his jacket up. He could feel Fifty touch him at the end of his spine, looking for something, but Tenna wasn't sure yet.

     "This is weird..." Fifty said as he floated in front of Tenna’s screen. "You were supposed to have an output there... but I can't see any."

     That made Tenna worry. Was he truly broken? Not made right from the very start? Mike seemed to understand Tenna’s worries as he spoke.

     "He is still young. His powers will manifest later."

     "Yeah, foggy... I know that you know that this... doesn’t manifest. TVs have it from the start."

     "What exactly?" Tenna asked, but Mike seemed hesitant to tell him. Before he could, though, Fifty spoke up, and it seemed to help Mike relax a bit.

     "It can still be fixed! We need a wire. A SCART wire! I think you know where we can find some..."

      Tenna knew exactly where to find some...

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

     Tenna was glad he had memorized where the graveyard was. He wasn't fond of coming here so soon, but this time he needed to come here. Fifty was moving around more enthusiastically than before.

     "Whoa, what a gloomy place. Would like to stay here..."

     "Of course, you would. That's your purpose after all. To send things to the yard. Wait... maybe you need to stay here. Come on, Tenna, take him off!" Mike said as he stayed at Tenna’s shoulder, trying to locate the sticker.

     "Ha, you can't get rid of me! I am a two-to-one deal! Always was, always will!"

     Mike tsked. "What an annoying sticker! That's why no one takes you seriously, with that idiotic color scheme you have. Gold and red. It hurts the eyes!"

     "Yeah, well, it is called advertising! I am stuck in deals that can be missed, and I market things better than anyone could. I am an eye-catching candy! A marvel to enjoy! Attention seeking! That's maybe beneficial for your TV, since that's what they do? I just help me!"

     "Help my ass! You have caused more trouble than you gave us attention!"

     "Is that so? You claim to be a producer, but all I see are low-budget shows!"

     "And you seem to be a businessman, but I don't see fancy deals. Only discounts!"

     Tenna’s static roared, erupting into a sharp, violent buzz that echoed through the quiet graveyard. Both Mike and Fifty froze mid-air as Tenna’s antennas sparked and his mouth glowed bright in the black screen. He bared his claws slightly.

     “That’s enough!” Tenna simply said with roaring emotion, which immediately shut up the others.

 

     Silence fell.

 

                           Finally.

 

     The graveyard stretched around them in haunting silence, full of discarded scrap, forgotten tech, and half-buried screens staring into the void. Tenna didn't like it still, but it reminded him of what he was and what would happen if he lost control. As he looked around to find what he needed, he felt weird. He didn't like the thing he was doing. Stealing other parts from previous TVs. It felt wrong... but he didn't have any other outlet in the moment. As he was hesitating to search, he heard Fifty monologuing.

      "They are all without color outputs..."

     That wasn't good. So... all of the TVs here were not broadcasting color? That was weird indeed. As they were coming here, Fifty had told Tenna of where exactly in the light world they were. He was in a shop. A shop that sold electronics. So there were other TVs around him that fought for attention. To be sold to their own audience. That's why they were feral with each other. They wanted the spotlight. The graveyard was a reminder that if you weren't good at that... you would be lost forever.

      A cruel reminder.

     Still... Tenna hadn't met any TVs yet... was he stronger? He didn't think so. Perhaps he was lucky because he hadn't been brought into the spotlight yet. Which was concerning. He needed to be put in the spotlight. He needed to be sold. He needed his audience. He remembered now in his dream that he saw people pointing at him. Maybe... maybe he was ready for the spotlight.

     He just hoped... he wouldn't need to fight for attention...

 

      Who was he kidding...

 

     Suddenly, from the corner of his screen, he saw a TV move! Tenna immediately turned to face it as he pulled his claws ready to fight.... only for the TV to be moved from Fifty. As he was relaxing, he focused on the TV. It was an old, boxy TV, long dead and covered in frost. Its wires spilled out like roots, but Fifty seemed to be lost in them.

     That's when Fifty pulled something from it...

      A SCART wire.

     “Got it.” Fifty inspected it with a nod. “Perfect condition. Surprising for a junkyard. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”

     Tenna didn’t comment on that as Mike finally spoke.

     “Then let’s plug it in!”

     "As you command, boss man! TV special, lift your jacket again!"

     Tenna obeyed, arms tensing slightly. He felt Fifty hovering behind him, aligning the wire... then paused.

     “Wait… where are the ports?” Fifty murmured.

     Mike floated in closer. “...Don’t tell me.”

     “He is missing ports.” Fifty floated back around, confusion deepening. “There should be ten more. Twenty-one exactly, but you are missing ten.”

     “That’s impossible!” Mike said, though there was doubt creeping into his voice.

    “Well, it’s real.” Fifty snapped. “The guy’s a walking incomplete setup.”

     "So... I was built wrong?" Tenna asked, feeling suddenly despair gripping into his body.

     "And the wire that's missing inside?" Mike asked, and Fifty grimaced.

     "It would have been repaired slowly when I inserted the SCART wire."

      "I don't get it! Why is he missing something so crucial?" Mike asked, and Fifty seemed to think.

     "He was not only the one who was missing it. Many did."

     “What do you mean?” Mike asked, suspicious.

      Fifty didn’t answer right away. He floated toward another TV, brushing frost off its screen, his eyes darting across the ports, cables, and wiring with increased focus. Then another. Then another. His expression darkened.

     “They all had it removed. Not just missing. Not broken… removed.” He muttered, voice quiet but tense.

     “Removed?” Tenna’s voice cracked through the static.

     “Yeah. Clean cuts. These TVs didn’t just fail to get color. They were robbed of it.” Fifty floated back. “Someone made sure these things couldn’t broadcast in color anymore. Like… they were trying to handicap them.”

     Mike looked unsettled. “Who would do that?”

      “No idea.” But Fifty's glowing color dimmed slightly.

     He wasn’t telling them everything. He couldn’t.

     "Was it the Lightners?" Tenna asked, and Fifty turned to look at him.

     "What do you mean?"

     "Well... is the owner pulling them off us? Or maybe..."

     "Impossible. Why would he do that to his merchandise?" Mike said as he sat around Tenna’s shoulders to shield him.

     He saw how the TV was behaving. He was starting to lose hope, it seemed. Mike needed him to be in top shape or else... he would lose his best host yet. Fifty seemed to notice that, and even though he knew that the true cause was something horrible, he encouraged the TV.

     "Perhaps all these TVs could only broadcast in black and white. That's why they don't have any wires. After all, you need them to show color."

     That didn't help the TV much. Mike continued.

     "I think because they were not operating anymore, the Lightners removed them so they could use them on other TVs. Isn't that right?" He turned to the sticker, which nodded.

     "Yep... I have seen them sell these wires. Why would I know after all what they are? I have been stuck to some of them!" He said proudly, and finally Tenna’s screen flickered back, clearing the tears that had started to roll.

      "Really?" Tenna asked with more emotion, and even though Fifty hesitated, he gave a fake smile to the TV, which still didn't recognize irony.

     "Heyup! Now stand up! You are ruining your suit!" He shouted at the TV, which immediately stood up, not having noticed he had kneeled.

     Mike puffed up, floating beside Tenna’s head. “Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Won’t we, Tenna? We’ll get you working. No matter what.”

     Tenna’s screen flickered uncertainly, but he nodded.

     “Let’s get out of here...” Mike said, drifting ahead, his fog curling around Tenna to guide him.

     Fifty followed behind, quiet for once, casting one last glance back at the graveyard. He knew the reason for this. A TV. One who wanted the spotlight to themselves. He pushed the thought away.

 

      Was he ready to choose?

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     Tenna stayed quiet most of the walk. Mike tried to lift the mood with light jokes about retro fashion and how outdated Fifty looked. Fifty, of course, bit back. But the conversation stayed shallow, distant, as if all three of them were lost in their own thoughts.

     Until Tenna’s antennas twitched. A sharp buzz jolted down his spine. He stopped walking.

      “...Another signal?” Mike asked.

     Tenna didn’t respond immediately. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling sink in. It was different than before. Brighter. Louder. Alive. His claws got out without him noticing, and his fans started to work overtime, surprising the others with the sudden change. He felt himself growl as to warn the others. That signal... was dangerous. He didn't like it. Because it was...

      "A TV." He snarled, and the others watched in horror as Tenna turned territorial.

     The static in the air thickened as Tenna pressed forward through the snow. His antennas crackled, twitching violently. His claws were half-unsheathed, scraping at the ice-covered earth. His screen buzzed softly, a low guttural hum rumbling from deep within his chest.

      He was searching for the intruder.

    Mike and Fifty followed, keeping their distance. Mike seemed hesitant at how Tenna reacted, not wanting him to turn feral, but the antennas still buzzed, showing Mike that Tenna was still present. He could feel Tenna still. After all, he was a signal. His host was still sentient, but he knew that he couldn't ignore his instincts forever.

      Which was worrisome.

     If Tenna sensed another TV, he knew that there would be a fight. TVs are feral, attention-seeking creatures. Strong if wanted. They couldn't escape their nature. Tenna growled, loud enough for both of them to hear. His form hunched slightly forward, more beast than before, but his antennas still buzzed, showing that they were still guiding him through his instincts.

     “He’s close.” Tenna whispered, surprising everyone with his previous sounds.

     They stepped over a snow-covered rise. And there it was. Another TV. Towering, twitching, monstrous. It stood nearly twice Tenna’s height, its body long and thin like an insect, like an ant. Its glass screen blinked static. Four thin, jagged arms hung at its sides, and behind it trailed a thick segmented antlike tail, moving with sickening grace. It was different than Tenna.

      He had submitted to its feral side.

     Still, Tenna would try.

     "I will try to speak to it." He said as the TV seemed to search for something, probably him.

     "I... I don't think it will work, Tenna." Mike said. "This TV seems to be far gone. It looks stronger, meaning it has its fair share of fights."

     Tenna grimaced, but he decided to at least try. He knew, or rather felt, he would fight this TV. It was in his territory after all. But maybe...

      “Hey!” Tenna barked, stepping forward. “I know you can hear me. We’re the same! You don’t have to...”

     But the thing screamed. A piercing audio shriek blasted from its screen, having located its enemy, so sharp it split the air. Tenna stumbled back, snarling as his claws fully emerged.

    The monster snapped its head sideways with a glitchy jerk, releasing a harsh chitter from its internal speakers. No words. No comprehension. It was deadly.

      “Whoa, whoa, back up!” Mike shouted, flying around Tenna in a panic.

     The insectoid TV lunged. Tenna barely dodged it, rolling under its swiping claws, his jacket fluttering behind him. He spun around, claws slashing upward and slicing across one of the creature’s thin limbs, but not deep enough. The creature let out a distorted roar and twisted its tail toward him, slamming it into Tenna’s side and sending him skidding across the snow.

       “TENNA!” Mike shouted, flying to him.

      "Don't." Suddenly, Fifty said, and Mike turned to look at him.

     He was watching the fight from above with no care at all. Mike yelled at him.

     "What are you doing? We need to help Tenna!"

      "Help? Tenna is a lost cause..."

     "How can you say that!?" Mike shouted as he grabbed the star and shook it. "In case you forget, you are stuck on him and you will..."

     "I am stuck at that TV also..."

      "What?"

     "You see... You have said it before. I marked him. I’m a discount sticker. Fifty percent off. That’s not just a price tag. It’s my curse.”

      “You what?!” Mike roared.

     “I didn’t know it would happen this fast!” Fifty barked back. “But it’s real. Any TV marked with the fifty percent off sticker gets put in the Spotlight. And only one of them can stay there.”

     “So he’s here to eliminate Tenna?” Mike asked, horrified.

      “ Yes. ” Fifty said quietly. “He knows Tenna is competition. Because they’re both... discounted. Only one can be sold.”

      “YOU SET HIM UP!”

     “It was never a deal.” Fifty muttered. “It was a spotlight. And the spotlight burns.”

      "You knew this! You knew who killed the other TVs! And you chose to hide the truth from us!?"

     Fifty looked away. "I... I know it is harsh, but you just wait for the fight to end. Then you can guide the winner."

     He felt a strong punch in his face, and he flipped around in the air. Mike’s waves were stronger than before, deadlier.

     "You think I have a choice? I have chosen who to follow. I have chosen my life! And I will die doing it, unlike you, since you can reincarnate whenever you want! That's why you are a curse, Fifty. Because you don’t care who you burn, so long as you shine.”

      Fifty flinched, his glow lost for the first time.

     “You float around talking about ‘opportunities' and 'deals' like it’s some kind of gift. But all you do is mark everyone for the slaughter. You don’t guide anyone, don't help anyone. You feed them to the wolves! To the trash! You say you are a deal, when really, you’re just an execution notice.”

     “I…” Fifty’s voice wavered. “That’s… not...”

     “Not what? Not what you meant? You think that matters to Tenna right now?” Mike snapped, pointing at the snow where Tenna was locked in a brutal exchange of claws with the insectoid TV. “Look at him ! He’s bleeding sparks out there, fighting for a life YOU put at risk! And you sit here, hovering like some cowardly price tag, waiting to see which way the wind blows so you can stick yourself on the winner.”

     Fifty stared at him, speechless.

      “I’ve chosen my host. I’ve chosen Tenna! And if you can’t understand that, maybe that’s why they call you a curse! Because you’ve never chosen anyone. You have only ever chosen yourself.”

     With that, Mike spun and darted toward the fight, his form vibrating with a focused, dangerous hum. He called for the stars to come help, which gladly came to his aid.

     Fifty stayed in place for a long moment, the sting of Mike’s words sinking in deeper than he wanted to admit.

 

     Maybe... Maybe he should be the one who chose.

 

     As the duo was talking, Tenna was locked in a losing fight again. The TV was stronger, better equipped, and had a tail. A tail that sent Tenna to the ground far too many times that he wanted to admit. Tenna still was not done yet. As he was ready to continue the fight, his stars came to his aid, healing instantly. Tenna could breathe better again. Mike was over him, talking to him, but Tenna was focused on the TV. It seemed to feel Mike since it turned you to look at him.

     He gave him a warning snarl as he didn't like how focused it was on Mike, but it ignored him. That irritated Tenna, but as he was ready to lunge with Mike’s guidance, he stopped his advantage.

     Its screen flickered once, then twice, as it had reached the signal it wanted, or rather had found Mike’s one. In a blast of light, colors burst across it. A brilliant swirl of red, cyan, gold, purple, green vivid, alive, and burning. The wires running down its arms surged with color now. It had been hiding it. Tenna froze. His antennas lowered slightly. His claws trembled. He understood now. This wasn’t just another TV like him.

 

      It was superior.

 

                   Higher model. More complete.

 

                                                            A higher rank.

 

    "Tenna, focus!" Mike yelled at Tenna, but he was not able to move.

     The colors hypnotised him, as he had never seen them before, and he was ordered to stand down. Ready to be slaughtered. And Tenna needed to obey. He tried to convey that to Mike, warning him, but Mike was ahead of him as he moved Tenna more harshly than he wanted, breaking him away from the screen. That woke up Tenna and, unfortunately, annoyed the TV as it screamed again.

     "He is in a higher rank than I!" He said to Mike as the stars tried to create a shield to give Tenna some breathing time.

      "Rank? I didn’t know you had ranks."

    "Neither did I..." Tenna grimaced, but he felt his fearful side talk. "The colors... can hypnotize lower-rank TVs."

     "That's not good." Mike hissed. "We need to stop it from broadcasting this channel, then."

     As he said, his signal grew bigger but colder than before. It was on a different radio wave that confused the TV, as the colors disappeared from its screen. Showing that without a signal, it couldn't do anything. A low rumble came from the creature’s chest as it launched forward again, more aggravated than before. Tenna tried to dodge, but one of the monster’s four arms grabbed him by the side, slamming him to the ground. Another hand wrapped around his ankle. The tail again moved and flung him away again.

     “Tenna!” Mike shouted.

    Tenna coughed as sparks flew from his ribs. The monster didn’t slow. It leapt toward him. Tenna tried to fight back, but he couldn’t keep up. Every move he made was matched until something happened. His stars had managed to destroy one of the TV's arms, pulling it out completely from the TV.

     The TV screamed and started to attack the stars. Tenna could feel them get hit, so with a snap, he ordered them to leave. Some came and healed whatever they could before they followed Tenna’s command. He didn't want to lose them!

     “I'm not... done...” Tenna yelped, just before the creature pinned him to the ground, claws digging into his jacket. His screen glitched violently, static roaring.

     Something hit the feral TV from the side, knocking it off Tenna for just a moment. It was Mike, glowing harsher again, spinning like a comet.

      “Get your claws off him!”

     But the creature quickly recovered, slashing Mike with one arm and temporarily stopping the transmission.

     “Mike!” Tenna cried out.

     Before the creature could lunge again. A harsh, golden-red streak of light zipped through the air. Fifty. The sticker had thrown itself between the two TVs.

      "Hey freakshow... I have chosen it seems... so unfortunately I will upp his value unlike yours!" He yelled at the TV, which had hesitated. "Now, Tenna!"

     Tenna didn't seem to know what to do, but he could feel something brewing from inside. So he snapped again. In front of him, something appeared, a huge line. And then he heard it. A smash cut appeared, and its momentum ran towards the TV. It wasn’t ready for the attack as it collided with one of its arms and cut it effortlessly. The TV screamed again in pain, but this time it grew animalistic. Tenna tried to warn Fifty, but the TV was faster. The tail collided with the sticker. The sticker was sent flying. He hit the snow with a smoking, sparking crash, barely flickering.

      “Fifty!” Tenna screamed, trying to crawl forward, but the monster reached him again.

    The feral TV’s claws dug deep into Tenna’s metal collarbone as the weight of its antlike body pinned him again. Frost crackled beneath their struggle. Mike lay off to the side, flickering faintly. Fifty was barely a glow.

     Tenna snarled, screen fuzzing with static so harsh it bent his mouth. Then something inside him broke loose. His arms bent, reformed. His back cracked with a sickening snap, spine arching as wires slithered along his limbs. He dropped to all fours. His hands flexed into clawed paws, still vaguely humanoid but sharper, leaner. His body arched like a cornered cat. Sparks danced from his antennas, and as he felt them from his bent antenna, he was sure he was still in control. Not his urges.

     The enemy TV paused. Just for a second. It screeched, antennas rising in a defensive pose. Tenna didn’t wait. With a howl of static, he leapt, slamming into the enemy. He slashed at its torso, scrambled up its chest. Wires tore free in a spray of sparks. But the other TV was faster.

      Smarter. Experienced.

     Its two arms caught Tenna mid-lunge and hurled him back. Tenna hit the snow again. He scrambled upright again, but the creature was already upon him.

    Tenna had fury. He had pain. He had a cause.

    But the other one had power.

    It lifted Tenna by the throat, claws digging into his metal sides. The light in its screen pulsed, ready to end it.

 

     It slammed him.

 

      Once.

 

               Twice.

 

                      Three times.

 

     Then it strangled him, holding him down. The color glowed blindingly above him suddenly, seeping into his vision. Stopping him from moving again.

     He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

     He was less. Inferior in every way. He couldn't fight, or perform, or protect, or host anything. As Tenna was losing grip of his attacker's hands, he could hear faintly his signal.

     "Don't... don't give up." He heard the signal cry.

     "Why try? He is better." Tenna wheezed. “A better host. Stronger. Faster. More... color.”

     Mike, shattered and flickering, floated near, barely able to stay aloft.

     “So what?” Mike hissed. “He’s not my host. You are.”

     Tenna blinked, screen cracking slightly as he felt tears running down the side of his screen.

     “Why?” He asked. “Why pick the broken one?”

      “Because I don’t need perfect. ” Mike said, voice growing stronger. “I need someone who chooses the spotlight. Someone who fights for it. I don't care what hardware you are, Tenna! You think, you fight, you learn. I will evolve with you! I have chosen you!"

     That hit something. Hard. His antenna twitched. A signal sparked. Clear. And something aligned.

      Like a signal to its host.

     His grip tightened at the hands of his enemy. The creature paused, allowing Tenna to move one of his claws up, and snapping his fingers. That caused the TV to scream as Tenna had managed to change its channel, its signal, losing its balance and power.

    The enemy TV hit the ground, sparks exploding from its ports as its limbs jerked wildly, then went still. Tenna jumped over it and sat on its chest, preventing it from moving. But it seemed that the attack Tenna had used was too much for that TV's circuit. Tenna stood above it, chest rising and falling. His antennas flickered dimly.

     The antlike TV stared up at him, one arm twitching. The tail sank down . Its screen no longer radiated superiority... just exhaustion. It seemed confused over Tenna. Perhaps it was awaiting the final blow. But Tenna wasn't that kind of TV. He still believed he could try.

     “You don’t need to fight me. " Tenna said softly. “We don’t have to destroy each other for the spotlight. There’s enough room for both of us.”

     The feral TV blinked slowly. His antenna twitched once. It seemed to understand Tenna as it watched him with a conflicted screen.

     "I know we are TVs, but... we can still have our own audience. So..." Tenna tilted his screen. "Let's try it."

     The TV watched Tenna with emotion that Tenna couldn't understand. What he could understand, though, was the smile it gave him. It was small, bittersweet.

      “I... I am... sorry.” It whispered.

    Tenna looked in shock, not believing that another TV could talk. But his shock turned into horror. Pain blossomed in Tenna’s spine.

    He gasped, screen flashing violently. He looked down. The TV's last two arms had struck Tenna’s spine. Too precise for a feral strike. As he turned to look at the TV again, the TV seemed to be at peace as something cracked in it. A surge of inner light ignited and shattered outward.

     The screen broke in a spray of glass and flickering light, soundless and final. The cathode inside had sparked and exploded… then darkened.

     The creature lay still. Dead. The snow hissed faintly, melting from the leftover heat of its destruction.

     Tenna collapsed beside it, static flickering weakly across his screen. His breath came shallow. He could feel himself drifting as voices were heard around him.  

 

      The world turned dark.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Here he was again. In a dreamlike state. This time, he focused, though, on his surroundings. He could see other TVs around him and another beside him. But as he was drifting farther in his sleep, he noticed some people. Two lighters were there. The ones he had seen so many times. They were pointing at him again. Their smile was breathtaking.

 

     Then, he was being taken.

 

     Lifted.

 

      Chosen.

 

     The world turned dark again.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     Tenna woke up. The sky was still black over him, but the stars were there to light it up. Or rather, they were around him. They were healing him, he noticed finally, so he slowly sat up. He could hear voices again, but his antennas were not picking up sounds yet. He felt Mike hugging him, and Tenna did the same as he felt suddenly overwhelmed. Finally, as Mike moved away and Tenna could finally understand what was said to him, he watched his stars cry at him, worrying about him. He smiled at them, trying to calm them since he was not sure he could talk yet.

     His body had turned back to its original shape. He had destroyed his suit, and he knew the stars wouldn't let that slip by, but they were happier to see Tenna ok. His claws were still intact, and his antennas buzzed again, showing him that they were unharmed. He touched his bent antenna, and as he felt a small shock come from it, he knew that he was fine. So, as Mike had said, he could change body shapes. Neat. His was more cat-like than that TV's, which was ant-like.

     Mike hovered beside him, his waves a bit brighter now. Fifty sat nearby, unusually quiet.

       “You’re awake!” Mike cried, sighing. “Thank the fountain.”

     Tenna tried to adjust his position, clutching his back with a wince. Oh right. The TV had hurt him. But the damage… wasn’t deep, it seemed.

     He turned his head. The feral TV hadn’t moved. His shattered screen reflected the dim sky above, cracks still in place, lights gone.

     "It seems that it didn't like that a lower rank defeated it in battle. " Mike said. "It is as we know it. Only one TV can stay. It is cruel."

     Tenna stared at it. "I hoped I could make it hear me, but... i t chose its end."

     As Tenna was thinking about what had happened, he heard the stars murmur.

      "A gift?" He asked them as he heard them say that the enemy had given him that. "What do you mean?"

    The stars moved as one, weaving in a small circle around his back. Their light brushed the aching spot in his spine, and he hissed when he felt it, ten neat, deliberate ports carved into his plating. Not ragged tears. Precision work.

     Ten more he needed... for a SCART wire. For him to see color again! He sat still for a moment, staring down at the snow where the enemy TV’s remains lay.

     “It… gave me an opportunity.” He said quietly. His voice cracked slightly. “Even when it lost.”

     "It lost... but it seemed to understand what you had said to it. And chose to let you take the spotlight. Giving you back the thing you were missing." Mike’s signal grew warmer. "I... I am lost for words... You have managed to come across it."

     Fifty shuffled awkwardly closer, his usual fuss gone. “Tenna… I… I’m sorry.”

     His glow dimmed, flickering with guilt. Tenna turned to face him, not expecting the sticker to apologize. Mike narrowed his hidden eyes.

     “If I hadn’t stuck myself on you... if I hadn’t made you a target... you wouldn’t have been in this mess. I messed up. I marked you, made you a target, and nearly got you scrapped. Hahaha, I am a curse indeed."

     Tenna didn’t respond right away.

     "I sell you out, how can I communicate it to you! I got you nearly killed! I marked you as fifty percent to the Lightners, but also marked you to die. And worst of all... I didn't care if you won or not. Because I would be stuck with whoever was alive. I told myself it was just random. Just a chance. That way, if you broke… it wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t have to care. After all, why should I choose when I know the winner will take me...”

     There was a long pause. Then Tenna leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet but firm.

     “But in the end… You did choose”

     Fifty hesitated. “I… I didn’t...”

     “Yes, you did.” Tenna cut him off, his antennas twitching. “You chose to be by my side. You chose to help me fight. You chose to protect me, even when you could have stayed out of it. You gave me your power.”

     Fifty’s glow stuttered. He seemed about to argue, but no words came. Mike continued.

     "You choose a host. Now, for a reason, or seeing value, I don't know. I just know that you helped Tenna. Your actions are better than your words."

     Tenna looked at him for a long moment, then nodded his head. “You gave me an opportunity.”

    "What opportunity? To get killed?"

     Before Tenna could answer, his answer was cut off in a sharp gasp. His whole frame seized, claws clutching at his stomach. His screen flared black with pain, his mouth disappearing.

     Mike darted forward. “Tenna! What’s wrong?”

     Tenna wasn't sure as he grabbed his screen, feeling nauseous, but as he did, he felt... clarity. He felt his screen lightened up again, but this time, his screen turned white and his mouth black. He slowly opened his eyes and then... he saw it.

      Color.

     Every star burned a different shade. The snow had a blue glow beneath the moonlight. Mike’s waves shone violet. He could see Fifty's color better. He looked at himself. His suit was still destroyed, but he could notice the little sparks shone in rainbow in the moonlight while he had a purplish hue around his arms.

     As he looked up to see the others, each one was looking around, noticing the change of color. It was brighter than before, thanks to Tenna's glow. As everyone was marveling at the color that had appeared, Mike turned to look at Tenna, but he seemed shocked by whatever he was looking at.

     "Tenna... look." Mike said, and Tenna followed Mike’s direction.

     Behind him, trailing from his back, the once small ports was now a tail. His tail. Thick, flexible, and ending in three connector wires, RCA types, the SCART plug gleaming faintly at his back. It was like it was there from the start, like he was born with it. He felt his tail move, and he held the three connector wires in the end, feeling them.

     "You have a tail! Finally! " Mike laughed. "TVs of all kinds have one... and I wondered what yours would look like."

     "How..." Fifty asked, and that's when Tenna finally stood up.

     Tenna’s antennas lifted slowly, his mouth curling into the smallest, most disbelieving smile. “You gave me an opportunity... to be watched.”

    

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     Everyone followed Tenna with anticipation. It seemed that for once, Tenna was the one who had power, knew what he was doing. As everyone still tried to adjust to the color, Tenna finally walked over to his stage. Now in brown color, Tenna could see the stage was made with wooden materials, and in some places he had misplaced the colors as black spots appeared around.

     He stopped as he looked around his stage. He observed it for one last time, and then he looked at his tail. He made it come in front of him, and he watched the colors in each connector, memorizing them. Then, finally, he closed his eyes and focused.

     Mike had said that everything would appear. His studio, his real stage, would appear when he had an audience. So he focused. And sure enough, the stage suddenly transformed. As Tenna opened his eyes, he took a good look at what his stage had transformed into. His friends gasped and watched in awe at what had happened.

     Rows upon rows of empty velvet seats stretched out before him, deep red and vast. The room around him had become a full studio. Spotlights blinked on overhead, casting perfect golden circles across the platform he now stood on. A small stand with a microphone had also appeared, and Tenna noticed that his stage was now just a room. He could notice doors around. In the stage, at the seats. Meaning he had made it... his studio, the TV world.

     He finally noticed that there were two large screens on the walls, one behind the seats and one behind the stage. Like the ones that they used for cinema. Tenna progressed the changes as his friends were ecstatic over them.

      "This means... Tenna!" Mike suddenly shifted around his waves, bright and warm. "You have an audience!" He cried in happiness.

     Tenna smiled and nodded. Mike seemed more pleased than ever as he swifted around the room. Fifty watched the changes in shock as finally Tenna walked closer.

     "I still don't understand." Fifty spoke as he looked at Tenna

     "You gave me an opportunity to be watched. I was taken by Lightners because of you, and I have a tail because of you. Sure... it hurt getting it, but... you were the reason I managed to change this place."

     Fifty was silent for a second. "I didn't do shit." He said, and before Tenna could argue, he continued. "You were the one who did this, dear host. I just... gave you a push..."

     Tenna smiled. "Like... fifty percent?"

     Fifty laughed. "Yeah... fifty indeed."

     Mike hovered nearby, the brightness of his waves dimming to a more cautious hue. He stayed close enough to hear but not close enough to join in, his presence watchful.

    “I’m still not sure about you. ” Mike said flatly to Fifty. “You’ve caused trouble before. And stickers don’t just… turn loyal overnight.”

     Fifty’s glow flickered, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Tenna. "Yeah, true..."

     "But... I saw what you did. Perhaps I can be a little open with you." Mike continued, and the star shot up from the ground.

      "Really?"

     "I still don't like you. But you are stuck on Tenna and helped him. S o until you leave, we..."

     The sticker came closer to Mike and gave him a small handshake. As both continued talking, Tenna turned to look at the screen behind the stage. He felt his tail moving around, showing that Tenna was happy. It was still surreal to him that he had a tail, but he wasn't complaining.

     He brought it forward, holding the three connectors in his claws. They hummed faintly with energy, each colored beautifully. Tenna inhaled, focused…

     The lights overhead dimmed, and the screen behind the stage flickered to life with a soft pop. A small, warmly lit room appeared. Cardboard boxes stacked against a pale wall, a worn sofa set before the camera. It felt lived in. Familiar in a way he couldn’t quite name.

     Everyone watched in shock over what had happened, and Tenna seemed to be the one who held his breath watching this room. He didn't know it yet, but this room would be his entire history.

     And then... movement.

     Two shapes came into view.

      The Lightners. The same ones from his dream, the ones who had pointed at him before he was taken. The goat-like woman with kind eyes. The tall, broad-shouldered man whose stance radiated quiet strength.

     “Welcome.” The woman said, smiling as she touched his antennas, which Tenna felt. “Welcome to the Dreemurr family.”

     The words echoed in his mind, not through sound, but through something deeper, like a signal locking into place. Tenna stood frozen, tail wagging around, his glow catching in the reflection of the studio lights.

 

     This was his audience.

 

                        His family.

Notes:

So, we have more characters now to focus on and we finally came to the Dreemurr family! The sticker even though looking like an oc, he is actually a character from Deltarune. Not telling yet who but he will not stick with us for long. (I don't like him). Mike as I have said, he is a signal, radiowaves. There is a reason why the others can hear him, and later on only Tenna can. It will be explained later on.
It seems that Tenna has his small studio. Let's see how he will turn it to the lively place it is now. Still... we haven't seen all the Dreemurr family yet ;)

Chapter 4: TV World

    Slowly but steadily TV world started to appear. Tenna couldn't believe that because he was adopted, chosen by his Lightners, the world around had color. Poetic, wasn't it? His stage had grown bigger, more fancier than before. His seats, covered in red and gold seams, showed that this place was starting to become fancier . As the living room in the light world did.

     His family, the two Lightners, who had adopted him, were named Toriel and Asgore. They had bought a new house and now they were decorating, making it a home. Tenna was one of their new investments for this house, he had heard them say. They were glad that they had managed to get him at a better price, with the only fault being that he didn't have his cables. He was, after all, a new and unused TV. The owner had said that he had misplaced them or ... cut them by accident. A really good businessman ...

       So, they had simply bought them, and Tenna couldn't be more thankful for their choosing him, even though of his disability. He had shown that to Fifty, who was still in denial that he had helped him. But Tenna knew. He had given Tenna an opportunity to get adopted. Mike was still wary of the sticker, Tenna wasn't sure why yet, but he knew that something had happened between them. After all, they knew each other before Tenna had appeared.

     Fifty had appeared many times in the TV world, Mike said to him one quiet evening. Mike was a signal, he had explained to Tenna, so not many darkners could hear him. Tenna could because of his antennas, as well as most of the TVs. Tenna's stars could also because they were connected to Tenna. Fifty couldn't hear Mike. He usually stayed for a while, overwatching the TVs, and after a while, he disappeared from it. Each TV that came with him would disappear, thrown away. That's why he was called the curse .

     When, finally, one day, that sticker was stuck on some TV antennas, and when it had reappeared in the TV world, Fifty could hear him. Not perfectly fine, but enough to understand that this world had someone living on it. Mike didn't like the sticker. The way it moved, the way it spoke. It gave him a bad feeling. He didn't like that it could be reborn whenever it was wanted, but that was its power. It knew the light and dark worlds better than anyone. Being stuck on so many things gave him knowledge, which could be beneficial to Tenna if Fifty was ready to share.

     Fifty was still his usual asshole self. But after the fight, after the near-death experience Tenna had, he was more gentle to him. He seemed to like Tenna. The reason he wasn't reborn again was that Tenna’s family hadn't pulled him out of him. So... he was stuck with Tenna for a while. He could still feel his other selves continue their job. He had chosen to stay.

     Tenna didn't mind him. Mike, though, was cautioning Tenna to be wary of him. Even though he had changed tactics and was more convinced to stay here, the sticker was still a curse . Half-price market tactic. Tenna didn't know why Mike had said that, but his antennas had buzzed at that, agreeing with him. Tenna didn't like the thought of it, but his instincts told him to be careful.

      And he would listen to them gladly.

     His stars were overjoyed by the stage, not having seen something so grand that made Tenna blush. His tail wagged happily at that, and the others had laughed at him. He had grabbed his tail, trying to stop it from showing his emotions, but it seemed it had its mind of its own. He wasn't used to it, having stepped on it and stumbled on it many times. He would eventually get used to it, he thought many times as he had sat on one of the seats and examined it.

     The three output wires in the end could move individually and could emote. When Tenna was happy, they became hearts. When he was irritated, they produced electricity, and when he was sad, their colors faded and curled around Tenna’s leg. What a weird tail, but it was his own, and it was given to him by his family. He let it down and looked around.

     His outfit hadn't changed. The stars had yet again fixed it, and Tenna could see the sparks better now. He still didn’t believe he could see in color. His screen, now white, with only his mouth being black, shone above every surface, showing their colors brighter . Which Tenna was overjoyed by it. His suit, even though black, shone each time he moved with a rainbowish hue. His tie was purple, as was his body, which he found weird but slowly got used to. He could feel his screen change colors and show the same screen with the many colors that TV had shown him. Which meant he had moved a rank after that fight.

     Everything was... brighter. Even his stage.

      The stage was now a complete room, with seats and screens around . Lights and microphones were present. The doors that appeared were still empty as they had been when he had opened them. He was greeted with the snow he had seen so many times. Mike had told him that the studio would expand when Tenna was ready, so the doors would lead somewhere, even though he did not know where.

      Fifty had said that wardrobe rooms would appear, more studios as well , while Mike had told him control and green rooms. More Darkners would appear also when Tenna’s influence became stronger, and when Tenna was ready, he would be able to go to other dark worlds. Everything sounded so amazing, and Tenna couldn't wait to see other things !

     But to do that... he needed to start a show...

     He looked at the screen behind the stage. Now that he had grown stronger, he could see the light world from whichever screen he wanted. Even his own. So as he focused, the screen lit up and with a soft pop, like a switch on .

     His family was still unpacking boxes in that new living room he had seen. Tenna could feel them through the connection, the gentle pull of their voices somewhere beyond the static. They had bought him, brought him into their home, and yet … hadn’t turned him on once.

     Not to test the screen. Not to check the colors. Not to see what he could do.

     They’d placed him carefully in a corner of the living room, draped a soft cloth over the top to keep the dust off, and then gone back to arranging furniture. He had heard them laughing together, talking about paint colors and curtains. Sometimes they’d glance at him and smile, but never touch the buttons.

     It was … strange.

     They had called him “a great find,” “unused". He’d been proud to be chosen, but the longer they left him untouched, the more a little part of him wondered if they were… saving him for something. Mike had told him that it seemed that they were still getting settled, so until then, Tenna needed to stay patient. He was truly but... the more time he waited... he doubted more of his ability to perform. Silly, truly, but... he wasn't good before. With or without the colors or music.

     So today, he had decided to give it a try. To start a rehearsal. He snapped his fingers, and the screen dimmed, and he turned around to focus on the seats and the screen beyond them. So ... that was his view. That's what a TV host saw.

    He cleared his throat, not that he needed to, but it felt right. The way he had seen so many Lightner hosts do it. His tail gave a nervous twitch, one of the output wires curling into a shaky spiral.

     His stars gathered at the front row, chattering excitedly. Mike hovered above one of the microphones, a faint signal buzz crackling around him. Fifty sat sideways in a seat, arms folded, looking unimpressed. Typical.

     “Alright…” Tenna said, his voice carrying awkwardly through the empty studio. “Let’s… try this.”

     He... he was awful.

     The microphone popped awkwardly, his voice cracking in a way no TV should. His jokes stumbled out too quickly or too slowly, or they were completely unfunny. He forgot his own opening line halfway through and tried to improvise, only to make it worse. The stars’ polite clapping was too polite. Even Fifty, for once, didn’t throw in a remark, which somehow felt worse.

     By the end of it, he could feel the silence being too much. He rubbed the back of his screen with a hand, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

     “I guess…” He mumbled. “…maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

    Mike drifted closer. “You’re cut out for it. You just haven’t found your rhythm yet.”

     "Perhaps you need more rehearsals..." Fifty continued, and one star talked to him. "This was a rehearsal?" Fifty's color shone brighter in surprise. "... well, shit. Perhaps not..."

     Mike’s waves hit Fifty harshly, giving him a warning. Fifty seemed to understand it as he started to whistle, ignoring Tenna. Tenna, on the other hand, looked at the stage with a softer glow on his screen. It seemed he was thinking about something. He was playing with his thumbs, but his tail hadn't stopped moving, meaning... he was annoyed.

     "Listen, superstar, no one was born ready for the big style! I was also not that strong when I appeared. I worked so that my waves became the harsh and powerful ones you see today. You need to find your own pace, and then we will see what you got."

     Tenna hadn't moved a muscle from the place he was standing, but Mike saw his tail produce electricity as it moved around. He was angry. Mike sensed danger coming his way. He should be careful with what he would say .

    “Tenna. You’ve got time. The studio isn’t going anywhere. The Lightners...”

     “Is that so!?" Tenna finally snapped, his glow now stronger in his screen as he lifted it to see Mike. "It feels like I don’t have time.”  

     His output wires on his tail sparked in jagged, angry lines. Now Mike watched concerned Tenna. That's a strong reaction. He didn't anticipate that.

     “If I don’t get better now, this world will fade, right? The stage will shrink. My influence will die before it even starts. And then… what’s left? Just another dark corner nobody visits... I am responsible for this world! And yet I don't know how to keep it stable!”

     Tenna bit his mouth as he pulled his antennas from the tip. Mike was shocked over the sudden action since he saw static run through them, but it didn't seem to affect the TV , rather , it made it relax a bit. Perhaps his antennas shocked him slightly, returning him from his outburst. Still, Tenna continued holding them, as his tail curled around his leg.

      "I might... have put a lot of pressure on you." Mike finally said as he curled around Tenna’s shoulders, trying to relax him. "You are the protector of this world, true. You are responsible for it as well. But it will not fade out before you do. Whatever you are doing here, it will stay forever. You are the one who will make it shine the way you want."

     Tenna seemed to relax a bit as he left his antennas and pulled them up, straightening up a bit. His tail was still curled up though, which Mike didn't like, but his message was clear to the TV. He needed to push it farther, though.

     “The Lightners… they chose you. They brought you here. That means something. You just have to trust that it will work out.”

     Tenna’s screen dimmed a little, the bright glow fading into something softer. “For how long, though?”

    “For as long as it needs to. Show by show. Rehearsal after rehearsal.” Mike’s waves brushed along the rim of Tenna’s screen. “You’ve already done more than most. This place..." He gestured with a flicker of static to the red and gold seats, the shining lights, the polished stage. “...is proof you’re doing something right. And I’ll be here to keep you steady. You won’t lose it.”

     Tenna seemed to have calmed down finally as he gave Mike a small smile, and finally, his tail uncurled itself away from his leg. It was still static , though, not moving, meaning that Tenna seemed to think about something. But before anyone could talk, the sticker had decided to enter the conversation.

      “Ugh, are we doing the heartwarming speech thing again?” Fifty groaned from his seat, flopping backward so dramatically it squeaked.

     Mike’s hum instantly sharpened into a hiss. “Not now, sticker.”

     "You know... this would be a great scene in a movie... and yet I don't see the actors show great emotion. Zero out of ten."

     Mike’s waveform crackled sharply. “Careful, half price idiot.”

      “Or what?” Fifty taunted, leaving the seat. “You’ll lecture me into submission? Or wait ... You will add me to your low-budget movie? No, thank you!”

     “What is your problem, sticker?” Mike demanded, drifting forward until he was nose-to-glow with Fifty.

     “My problem...” Fifty said, smirking. “...is that I’m stuck in this soap opera starring a moody TV, a sentient dial tone, and me. And guess which one’s actually keeping it entertaining?”

     Mike’s waveform pulsed irritably. “You think you’re entertainment? You’re just … an adhesive inconvenience!”

     “Oh, wow. Sick burn.” Fifty said flatly, crossing his arms. “What are you gonna do next? Call me ‘sticky’? Real creative.”

      “You are sticky! That’s literally your entire function! Stick to something until it’s ruined !”

     Fifty gasped in mock offense. “And you are literally just noise that people try to turn off! Congratulations, elevator music!”

     “At least I connect with people.” Mike shot back, buzzing so hard the mic stands rattled. “You just leech off them until they’re sick of you.”

     “At least when I leave, people miss me!” Fifty snapped. “You? The second you fade out, everyone’s relieved.”

     “Oh, please!” Mike scoffed. “The only thing they feel when you’re gone is the sticky residue you leave behind.”

     “That’s called impact, radio idiot.”

      “That’s called trash, half-price pepperoni!”

     They were circling each other now, static sparks and faint glimmers of gold trailing in the air. Tenna watched them as well as his stars, which hadn't left their seats. This was entertaining, actually. He didn't like that those two were fighting, but sometimes it was a small breath from how he was feeling. He was still hesitant, but as long as Mike told him to relax, he would. After all, he was here to help him.

     Tenna sat there, rubbing the side of his screen suddenly, muttering under his breath. “Why do I feel like the studio’s IQ is dropping by the second each time they fight…”

     Suddenly, the overhead lights in the studio flickered. The massive screen behind Tenna gave a soft pop… then glowed brighter, white and warm. Tenna turned to look confused at the sound.

     The fight stopped mid-insult. Mike froze, waveforms thinning to silence. Fifty’s smirk faltered.

     “…That’s not me.” Fifty said quietly.

     Mike’s tone dropped to a low. “They’re… turning you on, Tenna!”

     Now Tenna watched in horror at the screen. Oh no! He wasn't ready! He couldn't do this yet! He moved away from the stage, moving towards the seats towards his stars , who watched him confused. They thought that he would perform for the Lightners, but Tenna was still ... a coward. As the stars circled Tenna, trying to move him to the stage, the screen finally opened up.

     The image sharpened into the Light World, Toriel and Asgore’s new living room.

    Boxes were still half-unpacked, but Tenna could notice more things around the room. Portraits, tables, and the sofa have a blanke t. Small touches that showed that this place would be lived in. A bright rug rolled halfway out, and on it was the sofa that Tenna had seen before. Toriel and Asgore were standing in their living room. Toriel’s hand was on the remote, Asgore’s voice rumbling as he laughed at something offscreen. His screen there lit up, colors bright and vivid, sound carrying clearly.

      They were doing something, it seemed to him as he felt again something playing with his antennas. Toriel had a book in her hands, reading something while Asgore cracked jokes at Toriel. She would laugh at him, telling him to stop and help her set up the TV. That's when Tenna understood what Toriel was doing ... she was searching for channels, his channels. Mike had floated next to Tenna, and Tenna could feel his antennas buzzing from his waves, showing that they were in unison, helping the Lightners.

     He felt his tail being yanked , and as Tenna pulled it in front of him to check the damage, he felt a new power rushing through him.

     " There!" Asgore said as he appeared again in front of the TV. "The wire is connected, so it should work fine."

     Toriel’s voice hummed softly through the Light World feed. “Alright… let’s see what you can do, dear.”

     She adjusted the remote in her hands, her thumb pressing down with a click that echoed faintly inside Tenna’s chest.

     “Careful, Tori.” Asgore chuckled from the side, leaning over to peek. “If you press too many buttons at once, you will launch it into space.”

     “Oh, hush!” Toriel laughed, swatting his arm without looking away. “It’s been a while since we had a TV like this. I’m just … exploring.”

    Tenna jerked faintly with each one. He could feel it, his screen flickering through channels in time with her searching. His colors and sound warped, shifted, changed tone and shape, each click sending a shiver down the studio walls. Mike looked at him, puzzled and in awe, as he had never seen something like this. It was mesmerizing as he could see the channels on Tenna’s screen. His stars were watching as well in anticipation, while Fifty seemed to be annoyed over the zapping that the goat woman did.

      It was dizzying, truly. He could feel each channel for a moment, but Toriel didn't stay long for any. His stars flitted nervously around him as if they too could feel the pull of the constant switching suddenly. Mike stayed close, his glow pulsing in sync with the rhythm. His antennas tingled with every change, the static along them popping in time with Toriel’s presses.

     “Hmm…” Toriel murmured, still browsing. “I want something relaxing.”

    Click, bright, energetic music burst through. A cheerful, fast-paced beat spilled from the Light World TV, and Tenna felt the sound pour down into the Dark World like sunlight through water. He relaxed suddenly as his screen returned to normal and he could breathe again. The others looked at him with worry, but Tenna simply smiled. He wasn't used to this, but he felt this was right. This was his job.

     Everyone turned again towards the screen behind the stage as the Lightners continued.

     Toriel’s ears perked instantly. Her face lit up in delight. “Oh! This, this is from the old jitterbug dance! I haven’t heard this in years!”

     Asgore’s deep chuckle rumbled through the speakers. “Well then, I suppose there’s only one thing to do.” He offered her his massive hand with a mock bow.

     She laughed, setting the remote aside and slipping her hand into his. “Oh, you’re impossible.”

      “Impossible to resist.” He teased. And then they were moving, slowly at first, then picking up pace as the beat kicked in, Toriel’s steps light and quick, Asgore’s big frame surprisingly nimble. They twirled around the living room, the rug shifting slightly under their feet, laughter spilling out between them.

     Tenna’s eyes softened. Watching them through the great screen, he felt something deep and warm in his circuitry. This... this was because of him. Because his Lightners had turned him on, found the channel, and were now smiling because of what they saw.

     For the first time, he felt useful.

     Suddenly, the stage in front of him exploded with light. Everyone watched in shock, as they didn't expect anything to happen. They were wrong...

     Holograms bloomed into existence, figures dancing in perfect rhythm with the channel’s music, instruments flashing, confetti shimmering through the air. The colors were dazzling.

     “…Oh.” Tenna simply said.

     "The channel... came to life?" Fifty asked as he looked with an open mouth.

     “…Tenna… you are broadcasting it.” Mike breathed, almost stunned.

     Tenna’s eyes widened. Broadcasting? Not just performing … but showing exactly what his Lightners saw. That meant ... he could do other things than be a TV host. That eased his circuits slightly. He could just enjoy the shows, learn them, and finally then perform for his Lightners.

      "That’s amazing..." Fifty smiled as he continued looking at the show.

     Something inside Tenna, though, responded to it. It seemed that the stars were affected as well, as they followed Tenna on the stage. His feet carried him toward the stage, drawn to the pull of the holograms. And as soon as he stepped into the bright projection ...

     His suit shifted. Fabric rippled, morphing in a wash of sparkles. The black of his suit turned grey , his bowtie now loosened up , fell on his chest as a tie and a small top hat appeared on top of his screen. A small cane appeared in his hands. His tail wires glowed brighter, curling into the shape of musical notes, and his stars darted around him in excitement as they had finished another outfit change.

     Tenna looked surprised at his new outfit, but he felt it was right. It was either way, the outfit associated with the show. He looked at the holograms around him, still continuing their routine. He could enter the stage and watch from inside the show without causing any trouble. He felt that he was one with them now, with the change of clothes, and he could feel his feet tap to the rhythm. He was sure clumsy as he followed the dance, but he was starting to get better at it. His stars danced as well, continuing a show that was only performed for them.

     Meanwhile, Mike watched how Tenna danced, not feeling the pressure of being a host and just enjoying the show. Perhaps that's what he needed to do . To just broadcast the shows until he was ready to start them. Mike didn't know he could do that. That was a power too strong for even him. Tenna sure had a lot of tricks up his sleeve. Mike wasn't complaining. Seeing him change outfits according to the show was also something new to him.

     Perhaps Tenna would become a true celebrity one day. Until then, though, Mike could hope. He looked at his host, dancing and feeling the music as well as his Lightners mimicking his action . It seemed for now, Tenna was content with showing them the TV world.

      Until, finally, one day, they would watch him.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    TV world was expanding each day, and that made Tenna’s heart melt from the way it started to look. It looked like something he would make. Just like his Lightners, his studio started to look like a home. Toriel and Asgore had seemed to have finished decorating and unpacking, as they would switch him on more often. Sometimes they would watch shows, then music , then look for a movie to see. Tenna had started to get into a routine with his Lightners.

     It would still hurt when they would switch him on as he felt his screen pop with electricity, not as pleasant as his antennas was. Still, his screen seemed to become brighter each time they would switch him, and thus the pain started to subdue. Everyone would gather around Tenna and look at his screen like his counterpart in the light world watching TV as well. Sometimes he would hold the broadcast on his screen, and other times, it would play on the stage, giving Tenna a welcome breather.

    The shows would be played out as holograms on the stage, and Tenna would sometimes sit in the seats, watching, and other times he would enter the broadcast. Each time he did, his stars would follow and change his outfit accordingly. When it was a cooking show, he would be in a chef getup, if it was a football game, he would have a coach outfit. Each one is uniquely made by his stars, fitted just for him. Mike would enter some shows as well, curious about how Lightners acted, but he would always stay the same. Unlike Fifty, who one day, Tenna grabbed with his tail and moved him to the stage. It would change his appearance with a sticker that fitted the broadcast.

    Tenna had laughed his ass off when he saw him changed into a huge banner promoting food at a football game. Fifty wasn't impressed with it, but had seemed to like how his appearance was . Mike wasn't surprised by it, as stickers and commercials were basically the same thing. Tenna’s antennas had perked at that, and as he asked what did he meant, Fifty had suddenly jumped to explain it. That's when Tenna started to learn all about the world.

     While Mike knew about TVs and anything including them and how they worked, Fifty knew everything about the light world . Tenna had sat down like a student and learned little by little about him and the dark world. It was ... a lot to say the least, but it was really appealing to his monitor. He couldn't believe that everything that Fifty had said was on his screen . All of it.

     Games, shows, food, commercials, violence, news, music .... everything was at the palm of his hands. He could show it to his Lightners ...

      TV was truly a gift...

     One day, as Tenna looked at the stage, watching the show Toriel had chosen, he heard a doorbell. That's when new people had entered his line of view . A deer-like man with a laugh that didn't stop, and a deer-like woman whose appearance could freeze anything. Still, she seemed happy with that man, as her smile was warmer when she was looking at him. That day, Tenna learned that his family had friends and they were overjoyed over the TV. Tenna would have overloaded that day from the attention as he could feel his fans working overtime, but Asgore had closed him for the day. Giving him a breather.

    Still, their friends would come often, looking at him, enjoying the shows he would provide, making Tenna feel special. Rudolph, as he had learned later, was impressed by his colors and his large screen. He would often watch football games with Asgore. Carol, on the other hand, was impressed by his technology as she would often push him to the limits. Playing with his audio dial, pushing to the max . Keeping him on more than he needed to and choosing the worst shows as they were loud and in bad color.

    Tenna had started to hate her every time she would come and start him, but he started to get used to her and her demands. He may have started to get stronger with her. When he would get turned on, the pain wouldn't be that noticeable anymore. He was now holding better his channels on the stage as his constant live performance had started to get powerful. His signal started to get better with Mike as he could see fragments of pixels when he moved around.

    She was demanding, but thanks to her, he was getting better.

    It also helped that she was always impressed by him and praised him, making him not hate her again. His tail would move faster when he noticed her, and his three output wires would sometimes create hearts when she would smile at him. His friends had joked at him, but as Mike had said... he was an attention-seeking creature... he liked the praise.

     One afternoon, the house was buzzing. Toriel had set out snacks, Asgore was laughing at something Rudolph had said, and Carol was … already fiddling with the remote before anyone could stop her.

     The stage would change too fast for everyone, but finally Carol would find a movie that everyone could see. A horror movie. Much to Tenna’s annoyance, the movie was too realistic as he could feel Fifty jump on him several times, and his stars would hide behind the seats. Mike was overjoyed by it as he constantly looked at Tenna. Tenna would learn later why...

     Finally, after the movie, after the small commercial break, something else started regarding the movie. Celebrity interviews, bright lights, and cheering crowds appeared on stage. Tenna watched the performance spill into his stage, holograms forming just as they always did … but this time, something new happened.

     The camera in the broadcast shifted away from the main stage and toward a door. The host’s voice came through, teasing the audience.

     “And now… let’s see what’s going on backstage.”

     Tenna tilted his head. Backstage? The scene switched to a cozy, lounge-like area where the performers relaxed before and after their turn on scenes. Plush couches, coffee tables with snacks, racks of costumes. Some celebrities chatted quietly with others, overjoyed that they were part of the movie, while others practiced their lines or warmed up their voices.

     Tenna hadn't seen this before, as Asgore would get bored and change channels, but this time they were eating, ignoring the screen and letting Tenna be their background noise. Tenna had moved from the seats and had entered the stage. He didn't have an outfit change in this one, as he entered with his usual getup. After all, he followed the host around, enjoying his performance. He winked at the audience, finally, and that's when he said it.

     "That’s for now, folks! What a great view of the green room..."

    Tenna didn't hear the rest, as something clicked in his mind. That word. Green room. A place where actors and backstage helpers relax. His stage flickered. Mike seemed overjoyed as he knew what would happen. The holograms dimmed as Tenna focused on his own world, the show his Lightners saw, forgotten. He could feel something change. Mike had come closer and pushed Tenna to one of the doors, and as Tenna opened it ...

    A new room had appeared. It was huge! It was softly lit, like the backstage lounge he had seen in that interview. The walls were green and the floor was checkered. A bar-like counter had appeared as well . There were more doors at the end, which Tenna would explore later. His stars seemed happy with it as they immediately jumped into the walls. Tenna watched in horror, only to understand later that the walls were the resting point for them, like the sky.

    Fifty had immediately gone to the bar and started to prepare a drink for him, while Mike was floating around Tenna with anticipation. Tenna looked around, still progressing the change.

     "An amazing green room, Tenna." Mike smiled, overjoyed.

     "It looks bland..." Tenna muttered, and Mike laughed.

    "It is, yeah. You will start to decorate it slowly." He pointed at the stars that had stayed in the wall. Tenna could feel them relax, even fall asleep. "What matters is that this room is for us to rest before the spotlight."

    Tenna looked at the stars and then at Fifty, who had started to eat the free food the bar gave him. Now he realized it. Everyone was sleeping on the stage! He hadn't built something for them to relax. They were constantly in the air, waiting for the new broadcast, not giving them time to relax. But that would not be the case anymore . Mike felt the change on Tenna’s screen.

    "The stars seemed to find their room, as well as... Fifty ... but ... someone is missing." Mike questioned, and Tenna’s tail extended itself in surprise.

     "Yours!" Tenna focused on that, but Mike had grabbed Tenna’s antennas, shaking him.

     "Cool your jets. I'm a signal, remember? I don't need to relax, I am always broadcasting ... unlike some hosts." Mike teased, and Tenna facepalmed himself with his claws.

     Tenna rolled his eyes. Of course! He moved slowly towards the bland hallway that led to more rooms. He saw a door with a sign on it that wasn't written yet. He opened it, and sure enough, he saw more rooms in it with blank signs. But this time, they didn't lead to the snow as he tried to open them. They were locked ... so he would need to learn later what they were. Still, his antennas were guiding him suddenly towards a room far past the blank sign doors.  

     In a new hallway, at the far end, a door appeared. Its sign was 'T-rank'. Tenna watched it curiously. Was that his rank? He felt that he was lower than that... Tenna didn't stay curious enough as he slid the door open to reveal... his personal space. He knew it was because he felt it just right.

    It was smaller than the main Green Room, but warmer. Walls lined with shelves holding VHS tapes, old remotes. He could see a small mirror with a stool in front of him, a makeup mirror, and over it, he saw a small picture. It was him in the light world! Tenna looked at it with curiosity. He hadn't seen himself before. He looked massive, a true marvel of technology. His tail swayed gently behind him. He turned again and saw racks of costumes, the ones that his stars had made for him for each show that extended at the far corner , and next to it was a door . Which he opened to see a bed. He turned again to the main room, and at the other corner, he saw a small soft sofa with a blanket next to it, in which Mike sat, letting Tenna explore his room. Tenna had stopped.

      This was … his.

     “So? What do you think?” Mike smiled as Tenna sat on the chair facing his mirror. He couldn't say a word, but his tail showed his emotion as it wagged around happily. Mike seemed to understand as he continued.

     "This was supposed to happen eventually. Green Rooms, private spaces, it’s part of TV World.”

     “But...” Tenna turned to face the signal. "I don't think these rooms are supposed to be like that... empty.”

     "That’s because it needs your flare, Tenna. TV World was supposed to be built by its protector. They’re blank until you leave your mark. And you?” His waveform brightened just slightly, like a smirk in light form. “You’ve got plenty of mark to give.”

     Tenna blinked at him, and for the first time, his screen glowed in a warm, steady red light. “…You like it?”

     “I do.” Mike said without hesitation.

      Tenna ran a claw lightly over one of the VHS tapes, reading the labels , titles from broadcasts he had hosted, channels his Lightners loved. They were a part of him, memories he loved.

      “So…” Tenna turned back toward Mike, curiosity sparking his output wires in his tail. “What else is around here?”

     “Plenty. You’ve got your Green Room where everyone can rest, your personal space here for when you need quiet … and there’s more. Perhaps a VIP room? Not sure ... you will choose what to offer us."

     Tenna’s eyes widened, antennas leaning forward like they were trying to follow Mike’s words physically. “…I need to see that.”

     Mike chuckled, drifting toward the door. “Then let’s keep exploring, superstar. TV World’s just getting started!”

     Tenna’s tail swayed behind him as he followed, his screen brighter than ever.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    And as Mike had said, the TV world was huge. There were lots of corridors still bland in color and empty of life, but slowly they would eventually be filled. Some were filled with screens, others with doors leading to what would be another stage for different shows. Some seemed to be ready as Tenna had seen a cooking stage, a news stage, and a game show one. As they explored, they had found rooms that would house his employees, as Mike had said, and Tenna was amazed by the idea.

    Someday, Darkners would live here, help with this world. He couldn't wait for that day to come. As Tenna explored around, he noticed that, eventually, his studio, even though huge now, would also have secrets. In the main Green Room, the last door would lead to a huge , lonely, and dark corridor, which had made Tenna hesitant. Why did this corridor exist? It was clashing with the rest of the studio. As he followed it, opening and closing doors, he found the last one that led them to the bridge. Tenna didn't know the existence of this dark corridor and why it led to the bridge, but he didn't like it at all.

    Fifty had shown him that he could lock them, which Tenna immediately did. He didn't like them at all, and he was feeling an eerie aura from them. So he locked them until he understood why he had that corridor. In another far door, it would lead to another corridor that led to huge doors, similar to those theaters had. And as he opened them, he would be faced with his main stage. At the end of this small corridor, it would lead to another door, through which, as Tenna opened, he saw a small office.

    He later learned that this office was his. He had his quarters, and now he also had an office, which, unlike his bedroom, was bland. There was a lone desk with papers stacked on it, and on the wall, a small board that was lying there. Depressing really ...

    As days passed, Tenna started to decorate the main Green Room. He found some sofas, some plants, and lights that gave the room a different view. Fifty would lay on them most of the day and sleep, giving Tenna some time to relax from him. He was still annoying as always, and now he was starting to make Tenna feel bad. He was still not able to perform, as he still tried to have a rehearsal, but he was terrible at it. Like he wasn't born for it. Mike was patient, his stars supporting, but Fifty was firmer and harsher. Still... he was right.

    Tenna couldn't understand why he was not good at being a host. What was stopping him? He had a voice, he was starting to move as a host as he had mimicked the hosts his Lightners saw, and could crack jokes. But... he was not good. Boring at best, annoying at worst. Tenna was still content with just broadcasting shows for now, as his Lightners were loving the capabilities he could offer them. Tenna couldn't argue. He felt better, stronger, and faster.

    His powers were evolving each day. He could change channels by his own and see other shows, his tail could produce its own magic, and thanks to Carol's constant zapping, he was moving more efficiently. He was glad that she had helped him at least, because even though the studio and new life, his feral side was still present. He could feel TVs roaming still in his territory, and he would warn them or worst fight them to protect it. His influence was still present, but he needed to defend it. It was harsh, having to fight again and again, but Tenna had seen how whatever thing he tried, no TV was ready to interact with him.

     It was disturbing . That he was the only TV that could control his urges that good . He knew that some could control their urges and at least talk to him with their unique language, but none tried to do it. It was like no one wanted to change ways. Tenna had sat one day looking at a TV that he had tried again to talk to, but failed. It had also destroyed its cathode, not liking that it was defeated by a lower rank. He looked at his body. It had grown bigger , in a more animalistic shape, enhancing his feral side. His tail had curled around him, unmoving. It felt the cold from the snow and from the encounter.   He felt different when he transformed each time . He felt powerful, yeah, but each time he did it, he knew that there would be a fight. A harsh reality that he needed to face.

    He hoped that one day he would face a TV that would at least talk to him, interact with him, before they had a fight. Sure, he knew that their feral side was strong, so they would enforce their ranks upon each other, but... he could dream ...

    Each TV was aggressive towards him. Some he could order since he was a higher rank than him and avoided the fight, but others would start it. He knew at least that the lower ranks would not die after the fight. They seemed annoyed and shocked over how Tenna let them leave his territory without killing them, but Tenna couldn't do it. He wanted his powers to protect, not destroy. The higher ranks would die from embarrassment. Tenna had started to use his powers also in his arsenal when he fought them, practicing them. He knew that even though he was capable of fighting, he was sure that one day he would not be needed to use his feral side to do it.

    What also annoyed him was that he didn't know his rank. He had asked Mike if he knew how, but he didn't even know that TVs had ranks. So he had asked Fifty. He was more willing to talk, it seemed. He had started to give lessons to Tenna about everything. How to handle business, how to talk to people, how to act . He seemed to like his role as a teacher, as he would wait for Tenna after each show and start a new session with him. But today, after his fight with the last TV, Tenna’s mind was clouded, and he needed answers. As his stars started to heal the small scars he had managed to get from his fight, Tenna would ask Fifty the thing that had bothered him.

     The sticker perked up instantly, like someone had just handed him gossip on a silver platter.

    “Yeah, I know about the ranks! But as for how to see it? No clue. We don’t exactly carry little ID cards that say ‘Congrats, you’re Rank Whatever.’”

    Mike’s waves seemed annoyed at Fifty. "How original..."

    Tenna’s antennas twitched. “Then how do I find out?”

    “That’s the tricky part.” Fifty replied. “You’d probably need someone who knows more about how to read power signatures. Someone who can actually measure that kind of thing.” He leaned back, smirking. “And I do know a place where someone like that might be hanging around... Cyber City. In the dark world. If there’s anyone who can dig into your rank, it’s there.”

    Mike’s glow dimmed sharply. “Absolutely not.”

    Fifty blinked. “Oh, here we go.”

    “Tenna can’t leave TV World!” Mike said firmly. “He’s the protector of the fountain here. If he disappears, the Lightners will notice. The entire balance will shift.”

     “Radiology for idiots...” Fifty said with a grin that was far too confident. “I hate to break it to you, but your machine boy son here’s already capable of leaving. You think I haven’t been paying attention? Tenna’s influence is strong enough that he can keep this place running even without being physically present.”

    Mike’s tone sharpened. “Explain.”

     “Easy! Remember last week when Tenna was asleep mid-broadcast ? The Lightners had switched him on and watched their shows. We haven't even noticed it! The sparkle squad here was the one that told us that Tenna was on. He didn't even feel it! The shows ran smoothly as butter. That means his presence isn’t tied to him standing on his stage. He can project. He can keep them fed without being on the stage.”

    Tenna remembered that day, alright. He could broadcast his shows without needing to be on the stage. He hadn't even noticed when he was switched on, as the pain had started to dull. That meant that he would focus on other things without worrying over his Lightners, as he knew that in the light world, he was fictional and working. Even though he was tied with his counterpart, he was able to move around in the dark world.

    Mike’s waves flickered uncertainly. “…That doesn’t prove...”

    “Then maybe this...” Fifty finally moved up and started to head somewhere.

    The others followed him, and as he left the green room, everyone understood where he was headed . Towards the fountain, which, as they got closer, they started to see something happening. Its waters were swirling, moving. It wasn’t just still or dormant. It was alive.

     Tenna’s eyes widened. “It’s… moving on its own?”

     Fifty nodded. “Still needs you, yeah, but it can stay afloat for a while without you breathing down its neck."

    Tenna stared at the fountain’s rippling reflection, feeling something warm swell in his chest. His work … his world … it wasn’t still anymore. It was starting to get somewhere, moving slowly but steadily into something new. Even if it was just the beginning, it could keep itself going . That meant he’d done something right. Mike still looked conflicted, but Tenna’s voice was steady when he finally spoke.

    “If that’s true… then I can go . Just for a while. If someone in Cyber City can help me learn my rank … it is worth a shot. I want to know more about the dark worlds and about me."

    His tail curled loosely, no longer tight with hesitation. For the first time, he felt … proud.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Even after all the explanations Mike and Fifty had given him about other Dark Worlds, Tenna still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

    Cyber City was like staring into a completely different reality. The clean, empty corridors and muted tones of his home gave way to towering neon buildings, flashing signs in colors he didn’t even know screens could make, and the constant hum of machines and voices overlapping. The ground beneath him wasn’t a smooth studio floor, it was paved in glowing circuits.

    It was different. It was lively, full of personality, unlike his home... it was... too much, but at the same time it was enough. Tenna couldn't explain why. He didn't know that the other dark worlds would be whole cities.

     “…It’s loud.” Tenna muttered, his tail curling instinctively. “And… fast. Why is it so fast?”

    He was intrigued by the city, but it was still too much for him yet. Still, as they walked, Tenna started to get used to it. The city had so many darkners, so many places to visit. He hoped that his world would one day have this much at least. He was content with having a small studio rather than a city. He wouldn't be able to protect something that huge.

    As they walked, Mike explained to him that the world was still without a ruler. A protector which was concerning for Tenna. Shouldn't someone be there? How did the city appear? Fifty had explained that the city was a vast system not contained like Tenna’s world, always expanding and evolving without anything to hold it back. It could hold itself upfloat because of that. When the right time came, a ruler would appear and take care of the city. Perhaps the ruler needed the city to be more advanced, as their tech would be better than the stage of this world. Perhaps it wasn't the right time for one to appear.

     “Welcome to Cyber City!” Fifty said with a smug grin, already striding ahead like he owned the place. “Don’t trip on the light strips. Locals don’t like it when you make the sidewalk glitch.”

    Mike drifted alongside Tenna, his glow dimmed low. “Keep your hood up and don't switch on your screen.”

    Tenna frowned, tugging at the dark, oversized coat they’d made him wear. It was heavy and awkward, with a hood so deep that it shaded his whole face. His screen was black, with only his mouth on the screen. “I still don’t get why I have to dress like this. And I can’t even see my tail.”

    Fifty shot him a look over his shoulder. “Because if they see what you are, sugar, we’re going to have a problem.”

     Tenna’s head tilted. “What I am ?”

    Mike answered before Fifty could, his tone clipped. “You’re a TV, Tenna. Out here, most TVs aren’t… civilized. If they see you... it is going to get ugly.”

    Tenna gripped the edges of his coat a little tighter, his antennas flattening under the hood. “…So I’m hiding because if they know I’m a TV, they’ll attack me?”

    Mike felt Tenna’s annoyance and sadness as he moved on Tenna’s shoulder. "I know it is hard, but it is for your safety, Tenna. I don't know how they will react, and we can't risk it. We need to be safe."

    Tenna looked up at the sky that was full of lights and fireworks that didn't seem to end. He looked around him at the full streets that were never-ending and observed the darkners . They were different from him, smaller and brighter, but they seemed to know how to act and hold themselves in fights. After all, they knew the rulers of this world, and Tenna didn't.

    Tenna tried to keep pace with Mike and Fifty, but Cyber City was a living distraction. Every step brought some new flicker of movement or flash of light pulling his gaze. The city was huge, too huge. Tenna wondered when the ruler would appear and how they would handle it. Maybe they would have problems like him , maybe they would try to change it.

    Tenna would eventually get distracted too much for him to admit, but it was his first time somewhere new. Somewhere that he could relax a bit without worrying. He would enter shops, try to eat from the many vendors they passed, but each time, Mike would move him, trying to keep him on track. As he was chastised again by Mike, he noticed that they had entered new streets that were darker than before. Halfway down one of them, it was glowing with a group of four bright, rectangular figures with giant grins. Their voices were a chorus of cheerful sales pitches.

    “ HEY there, friend! You look like a buyer!”

    “Step right up, step right up— big deals, bigger savings!”

    “Flash sale, once in a lifetime!”

    Tenna blinked. “…What are those?”

    Fifty glanced back. “Addisons.”

    “Addisons?” Tenna repeated.

     “They sell stuff.” Mike explained, keeping his voice low. “Kind of like the commercials you broadcast. Instead of showing up on a screen, they shove them directly in your face until you buy something. As I can see, though, they are not yet fully popular, which is why they are in this alley. They are using their powers. You see their glow? It is an annoying tactic, attention-seeking though. Your eyes are glued to it immediately, wasn't it?”

    “Oh...” Tenna murmured, watching them hop around another passerby. “So… they’re like you, Fifty.”

    Fifty froze mid-step. “…Excuse me?”

     “You sell yourself all the time. ” Tenna said plainly. “You just do it with sarcasm and plain words instead of grins and music.”

    Mike laughed, and Fifty muttered something under his breath that sounded like “unbelievable” before dragging Tenna away from the sales swarm.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    They eventually slipped down a quieter side street, away from the neon chaos, and into a cramped little shop. Inside, a single Darkner sat at a cluttered desk surrounded by cables and stacks of circuit boards.

    “You’re the one who can read the future?” Fifty asked in code, leaning on the counter.

    "Well, well... a sticker. I have a long time to see someone of your kind here, now that those Addisons rule the streets." The stranger said with a chuckle.

    "Well, t hose idiots ain't got shit on me!" Fifty said annoyed and the stranger laughed.

    "True. Your kind were always on the point and knew what to sell. Unlike them, who seemed to be scammers."

    "You said it! Now... about my future..." Fifty continued speaking with the stranger.

    Tenna watched him from behind with a confused screen. He wondered if Fifty was ever involved with this world, but as he had seen, he appeared to know many things. Mike suddenly shifted around Tenna antennas.

    "Tenna... remember... they can't hear me." He said, and Tenna's antennas shifted uncomfortably under the hood.

    "What do you mean?" He asked, and Mike moved towards Tenna’s antennas, keeping them down.

    "As I told you before... only specific darkners can hear me. Ones with antennas and ones that can feel a signal. This place can't detect me at all... so be careful. Don't act crazy to them. We will lose our chance."

    Tenna nodded, remembering what Mike had said before to him. The stranger finally turned their gaze from Fifty to Tenna.

    “So… this one is the one that needs his future told, huh?”

     Fifty smirked. “Maybe. Can you read him ?”

    The stranger motioned for Tenna to step forward. “Show me your tail. That’s where the rank imprint usually hides.”

    Reluctantly, Tenna let the three-wire tail curl forward from under his cloak. The stranger took it in both hands, running their fingertips along the grooves like someone feeling for a hidden engraving.

    A low hum filled the room as they tried to pull data from him … then it fizzled out into nothing.

     “…Too old.” The stranger said at last, letting go. “Ancient wiring. This is pre-signal boom tech. I can’t read anything.”

    Tenna tilted his head. Old?

   Mike seemed disappointed. “So… no one can tell your rank?”

    Fifty looked at the stranger and then at Tenna’s tail. "How is he old? I thought he was top-notch, a new power?"

    The stranger nodded. "As I can feel the power, you are right. The thing is that this tail is old, and I can’t get a good reading. RCA wires are like old now... why don't you do a removal and change to the new models, which are..."

    Tenna stopped listening to them. He had understood that the other had started to try to sell stuff to him . He looked at his tail. He didn't think it was old. Right?

     "What a ripoff..." Mike spoke, and Tenna seemed annoyed.

    “But...” The stranger said after a while. “You could try to find the... one."

     "The one?" Tenna asked, and the stranger smiled.

    "If you are lucky, you might find them. But it might be nothing more than a myth.”

    Fifty raised a brow. “A myth? Oh great, now we’re chasing bedtime stories.”

    The stranger ignored him. “They say there is someone who can read everything and anything. But you don’t find them. They find you when you’re not searching for them. And they only appear in the darkest place in Cyber City, where even the neon refuses to follow.”

    Mike’s voice hummed low in Tenna’s mind. “That sounds… unreliable.”

    “Exactly.” Fifty scoffed, annoyed. “Myths are myths for a reason.”

    The stranger’s gloved hands tapped against the counter. “Perhaps. But myths usually start with a seed of truth. If you want even the slightest chance of meeting them, you’ll need a specific implant, something to mark you. That way, when they find you, they’ll know you’re the one they’re looking for.”

    "And mayhaps you are selling it?" Fifty mocked. "What convincing story which..."

    Tenna’s antennas buzzed. They seemed to feel something, so Tenna trusted his instincts. “Implant…?”

    “It’s painless.” The stranger said smoothly, already pulling a small, needle-like device from under the desk. “A quick installation into your arm. It will broadcast a harmless signature into the air.”

     "Harmless my ass!" Fifty continued.

     Mike gave Tenna a skeptical look. “You sure about this, Tenna? Feels sketchy.”

    Tenna hesitated, his hand hovering at his side. Something about the stranger’s tone felt off, but his antennas were buzzing, telling him to continue. He was still not sure, but he would trust his antennas with his lif e… He slowly extended his arm.

    “ Good. ” the stranger murmured, gripping his wrist with surprising firmness.

    The needle hissed as it pierced the joint between his forearm plates. For a second, there was only a faint vibration … then ... his antennas twitched and hissed with annoyance. Something was off.

     And then it happened.

     A surge of electricity shot through him, burning along his circuits. His screen blazed to life under the hood, static crackling wildly across the glass. The faint white glow spilled into the room, revealing his faceplate in full.

    “That’s… a TV.” The stranger said as everyone froze mid-step.

     "A DAMNED TV!" The stranger yelled, and Tenna didn't need more as he grabbed Fifty and ran out of the shop.

     A mistake. A crowd had already advanced as they had heard the stranger yelling. One reached for his hood, another for his arm, and the air was thick with the hum of charging signal weapons. Tenna hesitated, feeling suddenly scared.

    Mike’s waves slammed through the crowd, giving him an opening.

    “Tenna, MOVE!”

    Tenna ripped free and bolted into the neon-lit street, but the alleyways were already alive with the sound of pursuit. Somewhere behind him, Fifty shouted, but the crowd surged between them.

      Then it came ...

      The tone.

     A sound, not just loud, but inside his head, a piercing, synthetic tone that drilled through the air like a weapon. High-pitched, rhythmic, almost mechanical. His antennas snapped flat against his hood, pain lancing through his skull. His vision shuddered, static crawling at the edges.

    They were trying to make him lose control, lose his signal.

      Turn him off.

     He darted into a side alley, breath harsh, tail coiled tight … but the tone followed. Louder. Hungrier. He was crying, he could feel that, as now he was running on all fours, desperate to live. He was starting to lose balance as his circuits were pushed to overdrive, but thankfully, his signal was there.

     Mike’s voice was just background static now, snippets of “left—jump—keep moving—” breaking through the piercing sound.

    A flash of movement ahead, a gap between two shuttered storefronts. Without thinking, Tenna lunged for it, shoving himself through the narrow space until he stumbled into a half-lit maintenance corridor.

     And then... silence.

    The tone cut off as though someone had yanked the cord, making him breathe.

     Tenna stood there, chest heaving, his hood askew, the implant in his arm burning with a faint heat. His tail twitched violently. He didn’t dare to stop for long. He followed the service corridor until the light ahead shifted from neon blue to the warm, familiar glow of broadcast static.

     The TV World.

    

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    He slipped through the entrance and fell hard on the snow of his world. For once, he was happy to be covered by it, feeling cold as he needed something to cool his fans. He heard Mike and Fifty speak, but his mind was elsewhere, still trying to process what had happened. He didn't stand for long as he ran again towards the fountain, trying to feel its warmth. As he finally came closer to it, he collapsed in front of it, overwhelmed.

It hit him all at once.

    The chase. The shouts. The stranger’s voice, calling him a TV like it was a curse. The tone, designed to strip away thought and try to kill him. He buried his screen in his hands, feeling them get wet. He wasn’t like the others. He could think, speak, and choose. But in that alley, they hadn’t seen him as anything more than an object, an animal.

     A monster ...

    “Tenna…” Fifty’s voice was softer now, stripped of its usual sarcasm. “Hey, superstar. Breathe. Just… breathe.”

     Mike had crouched beside him. “They’re gone. You’re back here. You’re safe.”

    Tenna didn’t lift his head. Static hissed faintly in the air between his hands. The snow beneath him was damp from the heat of his fans. He heard their words, but they slid off his mind. He didn't want to have a conversation right now .

     “Listen...” Fifty went on carefully. “TVs… you are different, yeah, but in the eyes of most darkners? You are just … feral tech . It’s the way of your kind. A lways has been.” He glanced at Mike, then back at Tenna. “They saw a hooded TV in their city and reacted the way they were taught to react. It wasn’t fair. But … that’s the reality.”

    Tenna stayed silent, his gaze fixed now on his forearm. The metal plating there was scuffed where the stranger had gripped him. The implant’s housing was still faintly warm, a small red indicator light pulsing in rhythm with his own inner hum.

      A mark. Something meant to lead him to the one who could read his rank.

     His antennas sparked faintly. The stranger’s words echoed in his head: You don’t find them. They find you.

     “ Tenna. ” Mike said cautiously, catching the sparks. “You’re thinking about that myth again, aren’t you?”

     He didn’t answer.

    Fifty sighed. “Look… maybe we should steer clear of the other dark worlds for now. Let things cool off. Keep you where you’re not being hunted on sight.”

    "Cool words, sticker." Mike whispered at Fifty. "Don't say that!"

    "And what can I do, signal ville? It’s the truth. He’s got to know what he’s walking into...”

    "Maybe don't remind him that he was about to be taken offline?"

    Fifty started to fight with Mike as they noticed that Tenna wasn't paying attention to them. And he wasn't. He wasn’t going to avoid the other worlds. Especially now that he needed answers.

     Even if it meant going alone.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The TV World stage was alive with flickering holograms, as the Lightners had put on another show to watch. They were watching more TV lately, which was good. Tenna still couldn’t perform well, but he was getting there. Mike was feeling it. He was still bad at it, and Mike could see that Tenna was starting to lose hope, but Mike could see a spark now. Deeper than ever. Either way ... the star of the show wasn't here to see the new show the Lightners had chosen, so Mike decided to call him.

    “Tenna?” His voice cut through the hollow echo of the projections. No reply. Only the static hiss of background broadcasts.

     Weird ...

    Usually, he would get a signal back, not an answer but a small hum. Mike’s static flickered with unease. He wouldn’t just vanish … not after what happened.

     He finally spotted Fifty in the bar, making himself a drink.

      “You seen him?” Mike asked without much delay.

    Fifty looked up. “Not since he was by the fountain.”

    Mike’s waves started to get sharper. “He’s gone!”

    "Impossible! He is always following you closely."

    "I can't seem to find him!" Mike’s waves expanded around the green room, surprising Fifty with how raw they were.

    Fifty set his drink down. “Alright, slow down, maybe he’s in his room or in the...”

     “No.” Mike’s voice carried a sharp edge now, his signals scattering like jagged lightning. “I checked everywhere. Stage. Backstage. His quarters. Even the bridge! He’s not here.”

    Fifty straightened, but before either could say more, a faint shimmer spilled into the room.

      Tenna’s stars.

      They drifted in from the wall and others from the open doorway, their light soft but insistent, moving like they had purpose. They had felt Mike’s uneasiness and had come to say something to him. The little cluster hovered in the air between Mike and Fifty, pulsing in slow rhythm.

    Mike’s distortion quieted. “What did you see?”

    One star floated forward, brighter than the rest. With a tiny flicker, it told Mike that they had seen Tenna at dawn, hood pulled over his face. His antennas twitched once before going still, and then he turned, leaving TV world.

    Fifty exhaled, annoyed. "That idiot! He went to Cyber City, alone, to find a myth?"

    Mike’s static sank into a harsh, focused frequency. “We need to find him before it is too late!”

    

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     Cyber City looked different from the shadows. No flashing billboards here, no shouty Addisons or crowded markets, just the low hum of small screens and the faint metallic taste of static in the air.

     This time, he kept his head low, hood drawn tight, antennas pressed flat . Just another shadow in the crowd. Every step, he let his instincts guide him. The implant in his arm throbbed faintly, almost in sync with the faint static at the base of his skull. His antennas gave the occasional twitch, tasting the frequencies around him, searching for the one that didn’t belong.

    He missed Mike as he walked around steadily. He missed his own signal. But he needed to come here, to at least try to find out if this myth was true. He knew that Mike wouldn't like this adventure, not after the close near-death experience he had, but Tenna was willing to try again. He hated that people were seeing him as a feral monster, but he would show them what he could do.

     He would show them.

    Suddenly, there was a faint pull. Not a sound exactly, but something felt through the signal, tugging him sideways off the main streets. He followed without thinking, cutting between buildings and down side roads until the neon was slowly dulling.

    His foot caught on something loose, maybe metal, and before he could steady himself, the ground beneath gave way. So original, Tenna thought as he fell down . He fell hard, sliding down on discarded scrap and shattered glass until he hit the bottom with a jarring sound.

     It smelled of rust and rot . A trash place. The city’s noise was gone here, replaced with the slow, echoing drip of water somewhere deeper in the dark. Tenna adjusted his hood, brushing off shards of metal. His tail twitched nervously. Still, the pull remained, urging him forward.

     He stepped carefully through the debris, following a narrow corridor. And then, the light died completely. Tenna froze at the edge of the black. His fingers tightened on his cloak, tail curling close. The darkness felt … wrong.

     No hum, no signal. Nothing. Tenna swallowed. The implant in his arm gave another sharp pulse, almost like it was warning him. Still … if this was the way to the one who could read him, he couldn’t turn back now.

     With a slow breath, he stepped inside. The air grew colder, heavier. His own static sounded louder in his head, bouncing off the unseen walls.

    He moved deeper, trusting the faint twitch of his antennas to guide him … until the pull stopped.

     Silence.

     Then ...

    The implant on his arm burned ...

     And something hit him.

    A sudden, crushing force from the left, knocking him to the ground. His hood slipped slightly, and his antennas flared instinctively, searching for ...

     Nothing.

    The thing was right there, and he couldn’t feel it. No signal. No presence. Just a void where something should be. Another strike hit from the right, knocking him into the wall so hard his circuits sparked. He lashed out blindly , claws scraping against air, but something cold and unyielding shoved him back.

    Whatever that thing was, it was different from what he had fought before. Its movements were calculated, and they hurt when coming into contact. Almost like a sword. Tenna couldn't understand what that thing was.

    Everyone gave off something. Even the knight he had fought, and the strange hand he had seen.

    But thi s… This thing didn’t exist to his antennas.

    Tenna’s chest tightened. He ducked another blow, stumbling into a half-crouch, swinging wildly. This was going nowhere! He needed to get out! His antennas twitched again, trying to find the way out, only to not find one. Now Tenna felt horrified. How was this possible?

    He knew this world was different than his, but to be that different? No, something was happening. The void had the entity he was facing, he knew that, but he couldn't feel them at all... They seemed out of this world, not belonging here. As he finally blocked an attack, he tried to focus his strength on his tail, only to not feel it. He tried again, but something felt off with his tail. He gasped suddenly in pain and from exhaustion that he didn't know he had.

    He felt a sharp, unnatural cold at the base of his tail.

     His breath caught. He tried to whip his tail away, but it didn’t move.

     Not even a twitch.

    Panic jolted through him as he turned his head ...

    The three-pronged cord was encased in a dull, gray crust, frozen stiff from connector to tip. The wire sheath was cracking like stone had replaced it.

    “—no—no, no, no—”

    He tried to pull his tail free, but the stone only pressed harder, and it started to expand upwards. Tenna grabbed his tail, feeling overwhelmed and scared. The stone moved, and he was unable to stop it. He could feel the entity watching him, measuring him, but Tenna was only watching in horror as the stone continued moving on his body.

    The stone crept past his waist. He stumbled forward onto his knees, gasping, his breath fogging in the unnatural cold. It was harder to move. Harder to think.

    “Stop… stop...!” His voice cracked through the static, but the darkness didn’t care.

     It inched closer. And then...

    A sharp, piercing sound split the air.

Chapter 5: It's TV Time!

Notes:

Hello everyone and welcome back!!! I have crazy motivation lately so this chapter turned better than I imagined! Have fun!

     A sharp, piercing sound split the air.

    Tenna gasped as he hugged his tail tighter, feeling overwhelmed. Was this the end? Was he really going to die? Not from a fight or protecting his fountain... but by the darkness?

    The sound faded, but the cold… changed. It didn’t dig deeper now as it was removed somehow...

    Tenna froze, not trusting it, his claws still gripping the stone-coated base of his tail. The crust began to crack, not outward like before, but inward, splintering into faint gray dust. A slow, cautious warmth spread along the wires. Tenna turned to look at his tail...

    He could move it. Fully. The stone had disappeared from it, and Tenna let his tail curl around his claws, feeling it move. Electricity once again came out of it to test his static... he was healed.

    Tenna sat there in the dark, tail curling back to his side in reflex, his antennas swaying in slow, uncertain arcs. It wasn’t right. That… thing… had attacked him. Had him...

    Why would it… fix him?

    The silence was thick, almost damp. He didn’t speak, didn’t dare. He was still annoyed and scared, but he would let the entity speak if it wanted. He wouldn't dare to move until he could see or feel that thing. He was cautious, not ready to fall into another trap.

    Finally... movement. His antennas twitched slightly... he couldn't still feel that thing, but he could hear movement and then... the implant started to heat his arms. He turned to look at it, still cautious though, and saw the red light burning brighter than before... so could it be?

    From the center of the void, a shape began to form. At first, it was just distortion, as though the darkness itself was folding inward. Then came the outline of a figure, tall, slim, stepping forward with the slow confidence of something that didn’t need to rush. As it moved forward, it took more of a shape... a shape that Tenna had seen in the shows he broadcast.

    Was this... a human?

    They stopped just close enough for him to make out their eyes, steady, unreadable. They were colored in neon colors, wearing what Tenna could understand an armor, and by the side, there was a sword. As they were examining each other, he could feel the red light in his arm getting stronger as it was calling the human closer...

     Was this a Lightner?

    How were they able to come here?

    Tenna’s voice failed him.

    The human tilted their head slightly, eyes narrowing as though confirming something only they could see.

    “You’re from another world, right?”

    Tenna’s claws tightened against his tail. He didn’t answer. His antennas angled low, his static humming in short, sharp bursts. The voice sounded robotic, but it had warmth in it. Was it trying to be gentle?

    The human’s lips curved into a faint smile, not mocking, not kind, just… knowing.

    “Darkners from other worlds tend to get petrified if they stay too long in one that’s not theirs.”

    Tenna’s antennas twitched. He didn't know that... Fifty had mentioned that they couldn't stay in other worlds for long, but he didn't mention that he would be petrified. He would deal with that sticker later...

    The human gestured vaguely to Tenna’s tail.

    “You saw it yourself. If I hadn’t stopped it, you wouldn’t be moving right now.” The human’s gaze sharpened. “…You didn’t know, did you? Then that means…”

    A short chuckle escaped them. “You must be newborned.”

    Tenna’s head snapped up slightly, his mouth brightening for a moment.

    “…Why?” His voice cracked with the question.

    The human blinked. “Why what?”

    “Why… did you heal me?”

    The smile lingered, but their eyes shifted, just enough for Tenna to feel something heavier behind it.

    The human took a slow step closer, their boots crunching faintly against the grit of the floor.

    “Your arm...” They said simply, their tone shifting into something flatter.

    Tenna’s claws instinctively covered the implant, but the human’s gaze pinned him still. As fast as they focused on it, just as fast, they turned to look at Tenna with eyes full of emotion that Tenna couldn't understand.

    “A seal. If someone gave this to you, it means they’ve claimed you for something… big. Dangerous.”

    Tenna’s antennas lowered, twitching as his static popped in the heavy silence. That stranger had indeed claimed him... to death. Tenna’s tail swayed behind him as he finally stood up, feeling a little braver than before.

    “…So that’s why you healed me.” He muttered, his voice cold. “You wanted to see this. That’s all.”

    For the first time, the human’s expression cracked into something sharper, almost offended. A faint glow began to rise from their armor, not warm, but searing. The color wasn’t the neon hues of before, it bled toward red. Deep, vivid, pulsing.

    Tenna’s eyes widened as the implant on his arm suddenly flared in heat, a sharp sting running up to his shoulder. He hissed as he ran his hand over the implant, trying to ease the pain...

    And then it clicked.

    The warmth in his arm wasn’t just pain, it was the resonance he needed. The thing it was supposed to do. The implant was reacting to them. His breath caught. The realization slammed into him hard but knowingly.

    The one he’d been searching for… was standing right in front of him.

    They had found them indeed, as the stranger had told him. And they would be in a dark place, as he had told him. So everything was true... this person was the one Tenna was searching for. He was unsure of how to continue, how to speak to the human now that he had found them...

     What should he say now? He wasn't ready to face them yet. His antennas twitched again, forcing him to finally speak.

     "Are you a human?" He mentally facepalmed himself. What kind of question was this!

    The human, though, seemed surprised by Tenna’s question, which meant that they weren't expecting it. They chuckled lightly, watching as Tenna tilted his head at them.

    "Well, I didn't expect a new darkner to know this."

    "What? That you are a Lightner?"

    The human seemed more intrigued now as their smile fell, and curiosity sparked in their face.

    "You seemed to know more than you let on. Interesting. Maybe this seal was supposed to find me."

    "You have done this before?"

    The human nodded. "Many times. Most of the time, the seals aren't worth my time, but you... You are different. From another dark world, and to also know what I am means you have a better understanding of the way of this world." They smiled. "I am indeed a human. Lightner as well."

    "How is this possible? Shouldn’t you be in the light world?"

    "That’s true. I have though the power to enter the dark world."

    Tenna’s tail swayed behind him. This was amazing. He didn't know that Lightners could do that! Either way, the human seemed to be friendlier than he thought.

    "I take you didn't come to ask me this?" The human said, and now Tenna’s tail stopped. "Your adventure had you come all this way for a reason. I am guessing for power?"

    Tenna shook his screen, which shocked the human.

    "You are indeed interesting! The seals that have been marked until now were searching for power, too much for them to handle. And you... are searching for... what exactly?"

    Tenna looked down in defeat... would the human laugh at his request now?

     "For my rank."

    The human’s eyebrow stood up in puzzlement. "Rank?"

    Tenna’s tail came in front to show the human what he was searching for. The human examined both tail and Tenna for a period of time, and they finally asked.

     "How is this possible? You were supposed to be told how to see it."

    Tenna seemed annoyed at that. "And how can I be told if I don't have anyone to teach me?"

    Now the human fell into silence. "Impossible. You know things beyond the laws and physics of the dark world, and you don't know how to read your own tail?"

    Tenna felt suddenly embarrassed. Like he was chastised by his parent. This was getting nowhere, he thought, and yet his antennas still gave static towards his screen telling him to continue. He sometimes regretted hearing them. The human’s smile thinned into something harder, sharper.

    “So… all this… you came here just for that?” Their tone cooled to the point of frost.

    Tenna tilted his head, unsure why the shift in mood was so sudden.

    The human’s eyes narrowed further. “Then you are wasting my time.”

    Without warning, they reached for the hilt at their side. The sound of metal against metal hissed through the dark as their sword slid free, its edge catching the faintest glint of red from their glow. They shifted unnaturally, almost as if something else moved them.

     The sound of a heartbeat could be heard.

    Tenna’s antennas flicked upward in alarm. “…That’s how you deal with seals you don’t want to help?” He asked, his voice steady but his stance shifting, claws flexing against the ground.

    The human didn’t answer. They stepped forward, blade angled low, ready.

    And then they swung. Tenna was ready this time, as now he knew where the entity was ready to fight! Tenna darted to the side, static snapping from his tail in the rush.

    “That’s not an answer!” He barked, his voice rising with heat. “Why would you heal me, pretend to care, just to try to kill me now?!”

    “This...” The human said without hesitation, blade cutting the air again. “...is the way of this world.”

    Tenna’s screen flashed slightly, his tail lashing behind him. “No!” His voice cracked on the word, anger bleeding into it. “This is how everyone tells me my kind should feel! That we are supposed to be bound to it, accept it, never fight back!?”

    The human paused mid-step, their brows drawing in, but they didn’t lower their weapon.

     “Why?!” Tenna snarled, blocking a slash with a burst of static. “Why am I the only one of my kind who can speak, think, fight?! Why am I different while they just… just exist?!”

     Their movements grew rougher now, less cautious, his frustration pouring into every dodge, every swing of his claws.

     “I don’t want to be like them!” He roared, sparks leaping from his tail as he struck the ground for emphasis. “I don’t want to be like my kind! I want to change how they see us! I want to SHOW THEM WHAT I AM!”

    The human’s body stiffened at his words. In one fluid motion, they shifted into a strange, deliberate stance, feet apart, sword lowered, one hand forward. It was still, purposeful, commanding, like an unspoken signal. The air around them churned suddenly, whipping into a fierce wind that drove straight toward Tenna. His hood tore back, caught in the storm.

    The human’s eyes widened. For the first time since they appeared, they froze completely, blade lowering just slightly, as they stared at him. A TV screen.

    “You’re… a TV...” They murmured, almost to themselves.

    Tenna’s antennas twitched wildly as the wind died down. The human’s eyes were locked on his screen, too long, too intently. He felt the way the others Darkners had seen him back then. Like a monster.

    His claws flew up, tugging his hood forward, trying to hide the glow of his screen. His tail curled defensively at his side. He started to take hesitant steps away from the human.

    The human didn’t move to stop him. Not yet. Their expression was… unreadable, somewhere between surprise and disbelief, as if their mind were struggling to process what they were seeing.

     “You can speak…” They said quietly, almost to themselves.

    Tenna froze, unsure if it was an accusation or amazement. And then, slowly, the human exhaled. Their grip on the sword loosened until the blade dipped low. With deliberate calm, they slid it back into its sheath.

    Before Tenna could react, the human bowed. Not just a tilt of the head, a full, deliberate bow.

    “I owe you an apology.” They said, their voice steady, stripped of the earlier deadly spirit. “I thought you were… something else. A seal twisted for power. A dangerous one. I thought you’d use whatever you had to confuse me, make me drop my guard.”

    Tenna tilted his head, his hood still pulled low. What was that supposed to mean?

    The human straightened, meeting his gaze. “Now I see I was wrong.” They stepped forward, unhurried, the red glow fading from their armor.

    “What you are…” The human’s lips curved into the smallest smile. “…isn’t just powerful. It’s rare. Powerful and kind. A contradiction most don’t survive in this world.”

    Tenna blinked at them, unsure how to respond.

    The human extended a gloved hand toward him. “I was testing you to see what you would do when pushed. And now…”

    Their eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light.

     “…Now I know why you’re here.”

    Tenna’s antennas swayed faintly. He looked from the offered hand to the human. It was obvious what his answer was...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna didn't know that he had fallen into the dark web, as the human had said. He saw it more as a dark corridor full of glitches and hidden texts. As he followed the human, he could make out the walls, dark and full of moss. They were forgotten, as Tenna could tell. The human had told him to follow him out of this place. They had started to ascend some stairs that Tenna couldn't feel at all. The human’s glow, though, was showing the way. It was unnatural, as before they had fought him.

    The human, though, wasn't bothered at all. They seemed to like the glow, depending on it. Tenna wouldn't question it. Even though the human had learned that Tenna was a TV, they had accepted him without any further reason. It was weird... they had fought him before they found out he was a TV, and when they saw what he was... they didn't comment on it. Didn't scream at him, didn't attack him, didn't accuse him. They seemed intrigued more than before.

    Tenna could feel curiosity from the human. He could feel his own as well. All this... was weird. The human simply told him to follow, to not stay on unstable grounds that could hear them, and Tenna simply followed. His instincts weren't screaming at him, meaning that the human had good intentions... for now. Either way, Tenna was glad they were leaving the darkness.

    As they followed the stairs, he saw that the human covered themselves with a hood as well. Tenna tilted his head at them. The human had smiled at him, telling him that he wasn't the only one who had trouble adjusting around here. That's when Tenna understood the human's meaning. They were also a monster around here. They were also something alien to the darkners around here. At that moment, Tenna didn't feel alone, on the other hand, he felt understood.

    The human led them up passing streets with darkers doing their job, their routine. Tenna didn't focus on them for long as the human’s steps were stable and insistent on where they were going. Another set of stairs, and finally, they had climbed what appeared to be a roof. Tenna could see everything from here. He watched in awe the ground underneath him with curiosity, and then towards the sky. The fireworks were closer than before, and the night sky reminded him of his world. He turned towards the human who had pulled down their hood. They had told him that he was saved here, not need to hide, and Tenna decided to believe them.

    As he pulled his hood down, the human examined him. They seemed too shocked from before, as now they were closer to Tenna, watching his screen. Tenna decided to switch on his screen, which made the human watch with an open mouth.

     “How…” They started, the question heavy with genuine curiosity.

    Tenna tilted his head, static flickering softly from his antennas. “Because I found my signal.” He lifted a claw, gesturing at his antennas.

     The human’s eyes narrowed, studying them, until their focus caught on the right one. The one that was bent.

    “…What happened to that one?” They asked, their tone shifting to something quieter.

    Tenna’s static slowed, almost thoughtful. “A fight. With… some kind of entity.”

    He kept it vague, but he noticed the human’s eyes flash recognition, sharp and fleeting. They knew who he meant. But just as quickly, they looked away, not pressing.

    “These...” Tenna tapped one of the antennas lightly. “...keep me sane."

    The human nodded slowly, almost solemnly, as if they understood in full. “Then guard them well. You’ll need them.”

    Tenna nodded, not continuing. He didn't know what to say. The human knew, though. They had some explaining to do.

    “I’m here for this world.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered brighter. “What does that mean?”

    “It means…” The human glanced out toward the neon horizon of Cyber City. “Even though this place is strong enough to stand on its own, it still needs someone to protect it. Until they come.”

    Tenna’s antennas twitched sharply. “…You’re the protector of the fountain.”

    That earned him a soft laugh from the human, their armor catching a glint of the city lights. “For now.” They said, almost playfully. “Temporarily.”

    "Is it because you are a Lightner?"

    "Not quite." They said with a different tone, but they continued. "I am not supposed to be the ruler. The ruler will come when they are most needed. Until then... I am protecting the fountain."

    "That’s why you attacked me?"

    The human laughed. "Well... you were heading to the fountain."

    Tenna’s tail extended in shock. "I didn't know that..."

    "I understood later when I saw the seal and how you reacted to your petrified tail."

    Tenna didn't want to remember how he reacted. "How... how you stop it?"

    The human tilted their head. "As a Lightner, I have the power to turn back the petrification process."

    "Thank you..." Tenna simply said, and the human examined his screen.

    "I am guessing... you are from TV world?" They asked, and Tenna’s antennas extended in surprise.

    So they knew about the other worlds. The human took this as an answer and nodded. "So the TV world finally has a protector..." They smiled, and Tenna looked at them.

     "How you..."

    "I think it is obvious from what world you are... and your power is too powerful to be just another darkner. You seem... the perfect protector for that world."

    Tenna didn't know how to respond to that as he let his tail curl around him. The human’s gaze softened, their neon-lit eyes reflecting a flicker of something warmer.

    “You are unique indeed. I’m glad you were marked with the seal… otherwise, we wouldn’t have met at all.”

    Tenna’s antennas shifted slightly, static humming low. “Wouldn't have met?”

    The human smiled faintly, not explaining further. Instead, they tilted their head. “What’s your name?”

    “Tenna.”

    The human gave a short nod. “My name… is ■■■■.”

    Tenna only nodded back, as he had never heard this name before. It was like... some names were meant to be kept hidden.

    The human’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. “What I meant before… about the way of your world... that’s something you’ll have to find on your own. But…” Their voice dropped, almost conspiratorial. “…if you ever want to bend the laws of the world, you can. You have that power. And I know you can show that to this world!”

    Tenna’s screen flickered faintly as he looked toward the skyline, the fireworks painting his reflection in brief, bright colors. The way the human talked seemed too hopeful for Tenna. It was possible to change how he was viewed, but as the human said... he would need to bend the laws... whatever that meant.

     “…Alright.”

    The human’s gaze followed his for a moment before they spoke again. “There’s something else you should know. About the prophecy...”

    “I don’t want to know it.” Tenna cut them off sharply, antennas twitching. His voice was firm, but not aggressive. “I’ve found my freedom. I don’t want it chained by words someone else wrote for me.”

    The human’s expression stilled, the smile fading into something quieter, shock, and perhaps… awe. Everyone wanted him to learn this damn prophecy and how it would affect him! He had decided what he wanted. He wasn't going to follow something because it was written for him.

     “…If you had a shot for heaven...” The human asked slowly. “...would you take it?”

    Tenna hesitated. Static rolled through his antennas, his tail curling closer around his side. His screen dimmed slightly, the faint hum from his antennas the only sound he gave in return. He didn't answer...

    The human didn’t seem deterred. They stepped closer, their voice lowering into something softer, smoother, almost like the darkness was leaning in to listen.

    “Think about it. Freedom without boundaries. A sky brighter than you’ve ever seen. The sun… so close, you could reach out and touch it.”

    Tenna felt something inside him stir, an unsteady pull, like a signal trying to thread itself through his circuits. Like... strings... guiding him somewhere.

    “You could go anywhere...” The human continued. “Be anything. You’d no longer be tied to one place, one set of rules. The world wouldn’t just be yours… the whole sky would.”

    The fireworks above them flared, and Tenna’s screen reflected the streaking golds and purple, the light catching in his glass.

    “And the stars…” The human’s voice lingered on the word. “They’d shine closer than they ever have before. Every single one... a choice you could make. A place you could call your own. Heaven... just a shot at heaven...”

    One of Tenna’s antennas twitched sharply. Then the other. The pull shifted, changed. No… not the sky. Not the stars. Something beyond it. Something that was already his. His signal.

    The hypnotic flow of the human’s words thinned, and Tenna’s static steadied.

     “…No.”

    The human paused. “…No?”

    Tenna’s gaze returned to them, steady. “I’ve found what I needed.”

    The human’s red glow dimmed ever so slightly, their expression unreadable. Then, slowly… they smiled. Tenna didn’t understand why, but the expression on their face was unmistakable. They were… happy.

    “Your world...” The human said quietly. “... is in good hands. Powerful… capable hands.”

    Before Tenna could reply, they stepped closer and reached for his arm. Their touch was deliberate, searching until their fingers found the mark just beneath his plating.

     “What are you...” Tenna began, but stopped as he saw the faint blinking light under their hand begin to fade.

     “Removing the Seal.” The human said simply.

     Tenna’s antennas stiffened, and he pulled his arm back. “No.”

     The human’s eyebrows rose.

    “I don’t want it gone!” Tenna said, his voice low but certain. “If I can… I’d like to see the protector of the fountain again. If you allow it.”

    That earned him a slow smile, warmer than before. “Then it stays.”

    They held out their hand again, and after a moment’s hesitation, Tenna gave his arm back. The human pressed their palm over the mark, and the blinking light steadied, brighter now, almost alive.

    “There. It’ll guide you to me if you ever need it. And… I’ve added something else.”

    Tenna tilted his head.

    “You won’t be petrified so easily again...” The human explained. “And if you wander into a dark world that’s too dangerous… the light will change. It will blink fast as a beacon. Warning you...”

    Tenna looked down at the mark, watching it pulse softly. A strange comfort settled in his chest.

     “Thank you.”

    The human smiled. Tenna looked at his mark, feeling its warmth now. Tenna’s antennas twitched again, telling him to move. To follow that signal. He knew it instantly. Mike.

    The static that rippled through him was almost a rush of relief. Mike had come looking for him. Without thinking, Tenna turned toward the edge of the rooftop, ready to descend into the maze of streets below. He smiled at the human as he started to leave, thanking them again for everything, but the human watched him closely. Tenna hesitated and turned to face them. The human smiled again.

    “You didn’t ask.” The human said.

    Tenna stopped. “…Ask what?”

    “What you were searching for.”

    It took him a moment, but then the meaning clicked. “You mean… my rank?”

    The human nodded, stepping closer. “Every TV has one. A rank and a tail. So, your ranks are in your tails. In your case, you can read it when your three cords are connected to each other, creating a small flash. That flash tells you the rank.”

    Tenna looked at his tail and did as he was told. He felt the flash, and a sudden recognition rushed through his system. He felt goosebumps all over his body as he finally had what he was searching for. He knew what rank he was now, and that made him feel better in a way. He felt his feral side spark for a moment. He felt better, finally understanding something he wasn't able to tell, and that made Tenna suddenly ecstatic.

    He breathed much better now, having found what he wanted and more than he asked. He nodded at the human who nodded at them, saying goodbye. As Tenna started to descend the stairs, he heard the human speak again, but this time, it was something cryptic.

     "Beware of the rings..."

     He wasn't sure what that meant, but his antennas were stronger now, forcing him to obey them. He kept what the human had said to him in the back of his mind as he continued his journey. Something flashed through his mind as well. The human had said that every TV had a tail. He hadn’t had one when he started. Not until… later.

     Weird.

    His antennas twitched again, that familiar pull guiding him. Mike was closer now, he could almost feel the sync in their signals. He didn't need to be told again as Tenna followed the familiar signal. He didn’t notice the human still standing on the rooftop, watching the neon skyline as they spoke to no one in particular.

    “The vessel you created… is perfect. Almost too perfect for the TV world.”

    They let the words hang in the air, their glow dimming slightly.

      "I wonder... how this will affect the prophecy.”

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    Mike’s voice was sharp with frustration, each word like static crackling too close to the speaker. Fifty trailed behind, grumbling under his breath, annoyed at Mike’s advances.

    Mike was this close to tearing him apart. If he’d been able to talk to the other darkners himself, he never would have dragged a sticker into this search. Now, in each step, he was starting to regret it. They had been searching for Tenna for what felt like hours. The alleys were too quiet, the crowds too busy, and the further they went, the more Mike felt that horrible thought ate him up... what if Tenna was petrified somewhere? In this massive, uncaring city, he could be left forgotten… forever.

     He should have explained that to the TV! He was, after all, his signal, his friends, his teacher for the dark world. If Tenna was in trouble, then everything Tenna had worked for would be lost, and Mike couldn't allow that! He wanted his host back!

    And there was the time limit. He knew they didn’t have much time left before the effect would become irreversible. Mike’s waves had started to become harsh and deadly as well, but his thoughts were too overwhelming to stop them. Fifty seemed to be lost in his world, which annoyed Mike more than anything.

    “You’re awfully calm about this.” Mike snapped suddenly, rounding on Fifty.

    The sticker didn’t even flinch. “Calm? I’m being efficient. Panicking doesn’t find people.”

    Mike narrowed his eyes, his tail lashing. “Or maybe you just don’t care what happens to him.”

    Fifty smirked faintly, tilting his head. “Why would I waste energy on worrying? If he’s still alive, we’ll find him. If not… we can’t do anything about it.”

    That made Mike’s waves flex dangerously. His static humming with fury, stronger than ever. “One more word like that and I’ll...”

     “Mike.”

    The voice stopped him cold. He spun, every thought in his head wiped clean when he saw the figure stepping out from the shadows. Tenna.

    For one suspended moment, Mike just stared. Then his body moved before his mind caught up, closing the distance in seconds. The impact was almost violent, Mike slamming into Tenna and taking them both to the ground. His fog locked around Tenna, pulling him in so tightly the signal between them nearly roared.

    Tenna didn’t even hesitate, he returned the hug, claws curling against Mike’s back, his screen bright with relief. They didn't know how long they had been like this, but Tenna could feel Mike’s waves calm down as well as his static starting to dull.

     “...You’re okay.” Mike breathed, the words trembling.

     “I’m okay. ” Tenna confirmed softly, his antennas twitching against Mike’s signal.

    "Well... you are ok. Glad we didn’t kill each other before he showed up." Fifty said, but neither paid attention to him.

    Mike pulled back just enough to see Tenna’s screen, his grip still tight. The relief was quickly replaced by frustration, the edges of his voice sharp again.

    “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” Mike’s fog flicked violently. “If a darkner stays in another dark world too long, they...”

     “...become petrified.” Tenna finished for him calmly.

    Both Mike and Fifty froze, staring at him.

    Mike’s static sputtered in disbelief. “…How do you know that?”

    Tenna tilted his head slightly. “Because it almost happened.”

    Mike immediately shouted at him, feeling overwhelmed over the fact that he was about to get petrified and how it was reckless, but his firm touch on Tenna’s shoulder showed how worried he was. Tenna listened to him, letting him vent as much as he wanted since he was right about being afraid. It was an experience that he didn't want to have to do again. Before Mike could fire off a dozen more questions, Tenna rolled up part of his sleeve and showed them the mark embedded in his arm, the implant still faintly glowing.

    “The myth might’ve helped me...” He said simply, as if it was nothing.

    Mike’s eyes widened. “…You met them.”

    Tenna didn’t answer with words. Instead, he gave the smallest smile. One Mike had seen only a few times before. That was enough for him. Whatever Tenna had found, whatever had happened, he looked… different. Stronger. And if Tenna was smiling like that, then he’d gotten what he’d been searching for.

    "You know your rank?" Mike asked, and Tenna slowly nodded.

    "So? What is it?" Fifty asked, but Tenna didn't speak. "Oh come on! You are using the silent treatment on me? Unbelievable! And to think I came to search for you, I could have stayed home and made drinks and..."

    Fifty continued to complain, but Tenna didn't pay him any mind. After all, this search wasn't for him. Tenna had found what he wanted. What he needed. He stood up, finally looking at Fifty, who was still monologuing.

    "I can't explain it with words, but I know what my rank is. That's... all..." Fifty watched him closely as Tenna’s exhaustion finally got out. That was caught by both the sticker and signal.

    Mike’s shoulders eased as he continued. “Alright. Then we’re leaving. I can’t afford you getting petrified now.”

    Tenna nodded as he started to follow Mike. Fifty didn’t argue but seemed hesitant. After a brief pause, he followed them as he examined closely Tenna’s mark as it started to flash continuously. It seemed that someone had helped Tenna.

     And that someone was trouble...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    As Tenna had returned from Cyber City, his exhaustion was too much for him, as when he went to the green room, he had collapsed on one of the sofas. He was feeling a little better with his stars' help, as they had healed him, but the petrification process had affected his body. He must have slept for hours. He was scolded later hard by Mike, and he was banned from going outside alone for some time.

    Tenna didn't mind it. After that day, he would always notify where he would be headed. He didn't want to feel this kind of loneliness again. It felt... weird. Mike had more words to say to him, though. Either way, all of them were happy that Tenna was back unharmed. Though Fifty was more keen to learn about the myth. Tenna wasn't stupid. He knew if he said who he had met, not only would they look at him as if he were the crazy one, but they would also try to find them. Tenna wouldn't let that happen.

    Even though his curiosity was also strong over the fact that there was a Lightner here in the dark world, he wouldn't dare to tell the others about them. They were protecting the fountain, so Tenna knew the pressure they had on their shoulders, even if they were temporary protector. He was glad that the myth was real and was glad that his antennas had shown him the way again. He was glad that he had them... he didn't know what he would do without them, truly.

    Still... Fifty was insistent on learning what that myth was. That wasn't curiosity, Tenna had thought one day as he watched Fifty move around the studio like he owned the place. It was suspicion. He knew something... it felt like Fifty was just making sure of something. And that made Tenna more suspicious of the sticker.

    Mike was curious about the myth as well as his stars. Tenna simply had smiled, telling them that a myth must stay a myth. They hadn't bothered Tenna after that, but he could feel the curiosity. It would spark from time to time as the blinking light in his arm, the mark or seal, as the human had said, would start to blink harder. A gift he had said to the others from the myth, as this mark now would help him protect his territory.

    It could detect enemies, warning Tenna. And Tenna was thankful for it. He would feel the enemies still, but the light seemed to work like a beacon, sending a signal to Tenna when someone would enter his territory. Sometimes the light would stay still, emitting red, which meant that Tenna was closed in the real world. When his Lightners would switch him on, the light would disappear until it finally appeared when he was closed. Still, sometimes it would burn him when it emitted its light. As his antennas sometimes would shock him, so did the light by burning him... a small price to pay for the power they were giving him.

    His Lightners were still using him, watching more shows and movies. Their friend would also come to visit, and Tenna was happy to be of use. Asgore seemed to be more out of the house lately, staying at work, but Tenna had later learnt that he was promoted to the police chief, so he was responsible for the town. That had made Tenna ecstatic as he would also be responsible for his world. They were starting to look alike!

        Toriel would be off as well in the mornings, so Tenna had time to relax in the meantime. It seemed that Toriel had managed to get a job, which overjoyed Tenna, even if it meant that he would be used a little less than before. She was a teacher one day, Tenna had learned as she had found a show that showed crafts and how to make them. Both Lightners were still enjoying each other's company. They would dance to Tenna’s tunes, and they would laugh when they found a comedy stand-up.

    Tenna was just happy watching them. He liked how close they were and how in love they seemed to be. He felt like he belonged with them. He felt special. Each time he had that feeling, he was feeling ready to innovate, start anew. So he was performing. But.... nothing came out.... his performance was not going well. He was practicing, he really did, but nothing seemed to come naturally like the love he saw his Lightners experience.

    He started to think that he wasn't cut out for this. Why was he that bad... shouldn't he be getting better? His stars were still trying to get him to the stage, and Mike seemed to try new ways to start the performance, but Fifty was the realistic one here. Tenna... was terrible. Not good.

     He started to hate the sticker... which he didn't like. He was just honest... and yet every time he would insult Tenna, it would feel genuine. Real. There was no humorous side to it. And Tenna could feel it. Fifty was starting to get insufferable. Tenna didn't like the way he was feeling, he wanted to work on his relationship with the sticker, but after the myth thing... Fifty wasn't happy with Tenna.

    Tenna would try to talk to him, drink with him, even go out in other worlds with him, but the sticker wasn't keen on helping the situation. He was insistent on learning the myth. Sometimes Tenna thought of telling him, but each time he thought of it, his antennas would buzz. It was a horrible idea, they had told him, which surprised Tenna. So he would try to answer the sticker's questions as best as he could, so he didn't tell him the identity of the myth.

     Fifty wasn't happy...

    Tenna didn't know what to do. He wanted to change ways... but the sticker didn’t. So he stopped plastering him, which annoyed the sticker more. He was like Tenna, an attention-seeking creature. They liked attention, but Tenna didn't know what the sticker wanted.

    He would be in his office writing ideas on how to start a show one day when a theory formed in his head... was he jealous? Could be. After all, he had new powers after his meeting with the human. So it was obvious that the sticker was intrigued. He had asked for a rank, and he had returned with powers. So he would take the sticker to the Card Kingdom. He had gone there with the sticker countless times.

    The Card Kingdom welcomed them with the usual chaos. Card soldiers arguing over rules no one remembered, checkerboard floors creaking under the weight of the many parades, and banners painted with symbols that shifted every time Tenna blinked. This time, he had caught a glimpse of the king on one of them. So this was the protector... he seemed strong but... lazy.

    This was a different world from his, so perhaps that protector had tricks up his sleeve. He wouldn't question that again after he was handled his ass back home by some guards the other day. Every world had different powers and fictions... which Tenna wouldn't bother to learn. What was consistent, though, was that TVs were monsters in this world as well.

    So he was extra careful once again. Tenna had led Fifty to a door that led to other kinds of stickers floating in the air. Fifty wasn't impressed... he was even offended by the action, really, but Tenna wasn't there for the stickers. But rather for the cooker that looked like a hammer in the end, which seemed to be annoyed. He had heard from a weird clown that the cook could fix everything and bring new life into things. So he had wondered if they could help them.

    They were actually happy that someone was asking them for their purpose and not for more cakes. Before he could explain further, the cook’s hammer swung, faster than Tenna’s screen could register. The blow struck Fifty. Tenna’s display flickered in shock. He froze until Fifty stumbled out of the blow, glowing faintly, brighter, stronger. His energy pulsed. The same one that Tenna hadn’t seen in a long time after their first meeting.

    The cook was satisfied. Fifty had lost his spark, he had said, and Fifty seemed overjoyed suddenly with the operation. He was more open from that day, his usual cocky self, and even though there was still the curiosity in there, he wouldn't bother Tenna for long. He was still cold when Tenna dodged the myth questions, but Tenna was happier being teased by him rather than being insulted.

    Still, their relationship hadn't improved much. Which Tenna would try to change as fast as possible. He didn't want to lose a friend just because of an understanding.

     Oh, how wrong was he...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna would sit in one of his seats and watch the shows Toriel had decided to watch. It wasn’t much or impressive as Tenna turned his screen and focused on Toriel. Lately, she would spend her time more at home, watching him. Which was weird. She had a job, and yet she was spending more time at home.

    She seemed happier as well. She spent more time exploring the channels now, flipping between shows, humming quietly as though the noise itself was company. She had more books around her, reading through them as she kept Tenna on as a background noise. She was getting weird indeed. She started to play with the remote again, changing channels when finally she turned her head towards the door. Asgore came inside, still dressed in his police outfit. He was off from it seemed as Toriel stood up to welcome him, as she kissed him and led him in towards the kitchen.

    Tenna didn't have a great view of it, so he decided to leave the stage. It was quiet today. Mike was busy maintaining the studio since he started to gain new powers that could control the equipment around it. He was impressed with them, and he thanked Tenna, who said it wasn’t his doing. By everyone knew it was. After all, the signal needed a host. So if the hosts got better, so was the signal. After that day, Mike played with his powers, expanding and trying them.

    The stars seemed happy as well, which melted Tenna’s heart. They were content with this place, and they were excited to see where Tenna would lead them. Tenna was still checking his powers in and out of battle since he still had intruders in his world. They were fewer than before, but that didn't mean that the enemies weren't strong and ready to take over his territory. He would fight as intended, unfortunately.

    Fifty... was ok. He was starting to get weirder. He would still demand answers, but lately he seemed busy with something that he wouldn't tell Tenna. One for one, he would say, and Tenna would leave it on that. It was annoying, and now he understood why Fifty was acting this way, but he had a reason to hide the myth. After all, he did say what the myth did to help him, he had just not described what it was. Fifty, on the other hand, was secretive, not telling anything at all to Tenna.

    Which annoyed Tenna more... and made him question things.

    Why would everyone be content when Tenna didn't say what the myth was, and the only one who had a problem would be Fifty? They had learned what had happened, what the human had given him, and how he had left unscathed. Only their identity was hidden. They had gotten what they needed and let it slide, believing Tenna. Only Fifty was the one who continued the play... it was like he was searching for the answer.

     For what the myth was.

    He was searching for the myth... or rather the human.

    Tenna wasn't sure if his intuition was right, but... his antennas had buzzed telling him that he was right. So... that's why he couldn't say what he needed. His instincts knew something, had felt something. Something dangerous was brewing. That's why he couldn't tell what he saw. That made Tenna watch Fifty closely as much as he could. He would try to speak to him, but.... Fifty was avoiding him now.

    Something else to consider on the countless questions he had.

    Tenna stretched his legs as he stood up from the seat. He was still on, playing in the background. He could hear his Lightners speak and laugh with each other. So... he decided to leave. He started to leave when something caught his screen. The channel Toriel had stopped was the weather channel.

    Tenna walked back and jumped on the stage. His outfit didn't change as he watched the weather channel flicker across his stage. It seemed that this was another show that he would eventually host with his usual getup. Weird though.

    For a moment, he wondered if, if he ever became a true host, he would ever take a channel like this one? No… it didn’t fit him. The weather wasn’t his style. It was too quiet, too neutral. He was born for spectacle. For attention.

    But still, he let the broadcast play across his stage. So rainy days were coming.

 

    ...

 

          ... wait...

 

    Tenna jolted, his antennas twitching sharply.

     Was he dreaming?

    A faint drop… cool against his arm. He froze, staring at where it had landed. Holograms didn’t touch. They passed through. They were light, projection, untouchable. But that... that was rain. Tenna looked around. Was he... projecting it?

 

    He laughed... that was silly...

 

     ...

 

    He narrowed his eyes at the channel, stepping closer. For a heartbeat, nothing. The weather map rolled on, bland and unassuming.

    Then another droplet splashed across his screen. He hissed, swiping it away, only for more to patter down around him in a thin, teasing drizzle. Not heavy, just enough to brush him, a soft breeze carrying the smell of something fresh.

     “…what the hell?”

    He glanced around, suspicious, his tail curling around as it had protected itself from the rain. His stage was the same, quiet, dim, empty. The hologram flickered innocently, showing cloudy skies. But Tenna’s chest buzzed with unease. His antennas didn't pick up anything, and the light didn't blink, meaning whatever this was... was not deadly.

    That’s when he felt the chill.

    Something soft and white landed on his shoulder. A flake. A single flake of snow, tiny but real, melting against his static warmth. He wiped it, now feeling annoyed. He didn't want to clean his stage again! Mike had made him clean it, and he was not in the mood to do it again! He would be shouted at!

    Tenna’s eyes followed the fall upward, tracing where it might have come from. That's when his screen found something.

    A small cloud drifted across the edge of his screen, glowing faintly against the dark. It puffed and swelled as though it were alive, until finally, from within, a sprite tumbled out. A triangular snout appeared, and the creature seemed to be smiling. It looked like a small sheep, airy and round, as it continued to spin gleefully through the air.

    The little cloud-creature darted happily above the stage, wringing itself like a sponge to spill more droplets. Each shake let out either a sprinkle of rain or a dusting of snow, and each time it giggled, the sound was faint but carried like static chimes.

    Tenna just stood there, staring. “…this is new.”

    The cloud twirled once in the air, seemingly oblivious to him, as though it existed only to make weather, happy in its own, strange rhythm. Tenna’s static flickered softly across his screen as he tilted his head, watching the tiny cloud sprite dart through the air. It wasn’t a threat, wasn’t an intruder, it was something... alive. Something welcoming. He had never seen it before, maybe because Toriel never lingered on the weather channel long enough.

    The creature spun again, carefree, scattering little bursts of rain like it was painting the air. Tenna watched it with a smile as he let the rain touch him gently. His tail wasn't happy with the decision as it moved under Tenna’s legs to cover itself.

    This was different. This young cloud seemed... Alive. Happy. Almost like something he would have created himself. He let the moment settle in, a rare calm. But then the sprite paused mid-spin, suddenly, and turned. Its round, misty body swayed as two bright little eyes fixed on Tenna’s screen and then down at its tail. Well, it seemed someone wasn't happy with the rain as it hissed finally at the droplets... very cool... Tenna thought, but his tail was just protecting itself. Either way, he smiled at the cloud, showing it he wasn't an enemy.

    Tenna lifted a hand, welcoming, his voice carrying that familiar showman’s warmth.

    “Hey, little one. You’ve got some cool powers there...”

    But before he could finish, the sprite’s expression crumpled. Its little face scrunched as though overwhelmed, and suddenly, it started to cry.

     A rumble was heard and...

    Snow burst downward in thick, rolling waves. An avalanche of cold fluff that crashed onto Tenna, burying him in white. His screen flickered wildly as his antennas twitched in shock, muffled static crackling from beneath the pile. His tail seemed more content, though, with the snow as it had gotten used to it. What a hypocrite...

    He clawed his way out, coughing snowflakes, blinking through the mess. “…okay… not just cool. Dangerous too.”

    The sprite, already forgetting its own tears, zipped in a loop and then floated straight off the edge of the stage.

    Tenna’s grin returned despite the cold clinging to him. He brushed himself off and stepped after it, following where the little cloud had gone. Something about it tugged at him, something new, alive, and worth chasing. It felt right, it felt his own...

    The tiny cloud sprite zipped ahead, weaving through the air like a streak of misty light. Tenna trailed it, curious despite himself. It phased through the door of his stage and floated around the green room where no one was present. A little convenient, really, but it was for the better. He didn't want to scare the cloud even more.

    His steps echoed when he realized where he was, the room with the bland signs. He froze at the threshold, forgetting for a moment the cloud. Why did it come here of all places? Was it going to his room?

     ...no. It had stopped looking at him from the corridor. It was floating over Tenna, watching him with interest. This... was weird. Why did it stop so suddenly? As Tenna tried to walk closer to it, his tail once again hissed, shocking both him and the cloud, which cried again, creating a small burst of air, pushing Tenna slightly back. He put his hands in front of his screen, protecting it, and when it stopped, the cloud had vanished. He looked around the corridor... it was nowhere.

    Tenna exhaled and put his hands in front of him, his palms joined. He grabbed his tail, now annoyed, and pulled it in front of him.

     "What was that about, hmm? Look what you did!" He shouted at it, but the tail seemed not to notice Tenna as it swayed around his grasp.

    Finally, it moved on its own, and the three wires touched each other. Tenna felt instantly the flash that showed his rank, but something else had happened. As Tenna felt his rank, his screen flashed for a moment, and then there was a small rumble in the corridor. As fast as it had happened, it stopped, and Tenna looked around, confused. That's when he saw it.

    The bland signs that had once marked the countless doors began to glow, symbols bleeding into form. Letters. Numbers. Icons. Ranks. Tenna watched as the doors started to take shape, and he felt his tail swaying happily around, mocking him. Tenna sighed as he let his tail down and looked at the doors. They had ranks now. The letters shone, and as Tenna tried to open one of the doors, he stopped. He looked up... A-rank. He couldn't move to open it. Meaning... he wasn't that rank.

    This was... annoying. So he needed to gain the rank to open the door, even if this was his world... it was lame... he jumped suddenly, surprising himself. It was like he was jumping over his prey, catching them in a shovk. It had seemed to work, though, as the door opened. And yet... he was met with an invisible shield from advancing inside. Tenna hit it hard, and as he had fallen slowly, he grabbed his screen, annoyed.

    Well... he could at least see what was inside... which was nothing!

    What a letdown! So not only did he need to get the rank, but also, only then would the room be filled. Tenna crossed his arms tightly across his chest, as he pouted, annoyed, his tail curling around him. This was irritating.

    He stood up and dusted himself, finally closing the door. Well, the rooms could provide a small mystery in this corridor. His tail moved around suddenly, and Tenna turned to look at what his tail was trying to show him... his room passed all the doors. T-rank. He could have entered it from the beginning... so... he knew at least in the English alphabet he was at least T-rank. He felt like his rank was above this rank, but as always, he couldn't describe it. Still, he had an understanding of what rank he was now. He knew his rank would advance, and that made Tenna want to get it higher. He smiled, full now with motivation.

    The air grew quieter. Almost… heavy.

    Tenna froze. He slowly turned towards a door. A door that he didn't want to face. The walls around, forgotten as it were, were cracked and not full of color. The door was dull and almost ready to fall off the hinges, and yet its appearance powerful, annoying.

     The Z-rank room...

    The far and forgotten door. Tenna had seen it before. He didn't know what it was, but he had felt the eerie appearance of it. He knew that his rank was above it. He felt that the room wouldn't and couldn't provide anything to him since it was the last rank. And yet, it breathed. It pulsed faintly, like a heart that refused to stop beating. Ominous. Heavy. Deadly.

    Tenna’s antennas twitched, and his tail coiled tight. He didn’t like this door. Even before the letters appeared, even when it had been nothing more than a blank slab, he had avoided it. Something in him had known better.

    But now… the letters glared at him.

     Z-rank.

    The last letter. The bottom of the chain, and yet… it radiated nothing like weakness. Tenna swallowed, screen flickering faintly as his tail swayed in agitation.

     It was cursed. He was sure of it. Even when it had no name, he had avoided it. Now, seeing it written, seeing its presence demand recognition, made his chest tighten.

    And yet… his curiosity betrayed him. Slowly, cautiously, he reached for the handle.

    The door groaned open.

    Inside was not like the other doors, not even like the hollow A-rank room he had peeked into. This place was… wrong.

    The walls were not walls but full of static, shifting gray noise, breaking and stitching together. They would eventually turn back to the walls he had seen, but their choreography would start again. Old broadcast sounds leaked from every corner... half-screams, half-laughter, warped into nonsense echoes. The air reeked of burnt, bitter and metallic.

    Screens like pop-ups would sometimes appear, broken and lacking color. Cracked glass spilling from them, creating a small haunting sound. Faces flickered on them, half-shapes, fragments of Lightners, Darkners, strangers and familiars Tenna had seen. They would all blur into static before he could recognize them.

    At the far end of the room, something shifted, its silhouette jagged and towering, but the static refused to let it fully come into focus. The floor bent under his weight, not solid but spongy.

    Tenna’s chest buzzed with unease. His antennas burned with the warning: this room is wrong.

    He knew it. He didn’t belong here. Worse... this place belonged to him, but it wasn't his creation. It seemed that it was created by itself, laughing at Tenna. This place... was not Tenna’s creation...

    Tenna’s tail lashed angrily. “Tch… this will cause trouble.”

    He wanted to rip the room apart, tear it from his world before it infected anything else. But the moment the thought crossed his mind, the static surged, the room humming like it had heard him. His instincts screamed at him to stop.

    No... he couldn’t destroy it. He couldn’t even touch it. It wasn’t just cursed. It was him. Or a piece of him he wasn’t ready to face.

    Grimacing, he pulled back, slamming the door shut. The letters glowed faintly behind it, but weaker now, like the room was waiting. Watching. He turned, tail curled tight, and forced himself to leave the corridor.

    The image of the Z-rank room clung to him, a shadow on his screen.

     He hated it.

    But worse... he knew he would be back.

 

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 

    Days passed as Tenna and his friends started to get used to the TV world and their routine. Fifty was still not welcoming as before, but now he was more open. After he had learned the rank Tenna was supposed to be, he was ecstatic over it. He hadn't met any other TV stronger than Tenna’s rank, and that had made Tenna blush. He didn't know he had turned stronger, but he could see it with his influence in his world. The fountain was flowing beautifully, almost elegantly, and each one of them had awoken a new power.

    Mike could affect and control the TV world like he was in a control room, while Tenna’s stars could move around without needing to hide in the sky or the walls for long. Tenna knew his powers had increased as he could see that after every fight, he would return back with fewer scratches. His transformation was not that painful when he changed into his feral side as well. Fifty seemed to have a better understanding of this world. He started to feel like he belonged here and not just being stuck as he used to be.

    Still, Tenna caught glimpses of Fifty being weird. He would not be in his usual place at the bar, and he would not insult Tenna as much. Like he was in his own world. He would often be seen looking at the Z-rank room, which Tenna had explained not to enter. Tenna wasn't taking chances as he had put blanks over it, closing the door. The others hadn’t questioned Tenna, not even Fifty, since they all had felt something brewing in that door. Still, Fifty was looking at it more than he needed to, and that played with Tenna’s nerves.

    Lately, Fifty would not be anywhere in the studio. Tenna had found him on the bridge, looking at the darkness which concerned him. He would sometimes go to the graveyard as well. He had said before that he liked the graveyard, feeling it, calling to him, but he didn't think it would be like this. Still, Fifty would return unscathed. Tenna, though, was still unsure about the darkness. The entities had said that they had left, but... he was still not playing with his luck. He would let Fifty for now, but he would keep an eye on him. He didn't like restricting his friends, but... something in him told him to listen to his instincts.

    Either way, his routine was clear for now. He would see Toriel as she would switch him on. Asgore would appear with his uniform, stay for a while, and then leave for work. Toriel would then stay and see shows until she left as well. Tenna had noticed, as before, that she wasn't going to work but rather for a walk, which surprised him. Was she fired? No, it could be... she was perfect...

    Their friends would come as well, time to time, watching him and Tenna would notice that Carol seemed to be warmer than before. She would smile more, and she would crack jokes, which had shocked Tenna. She would lately hold her stomach a lot more than before. That's when Tenna would catch Toriel doing as well. She was smiling as well when she did that, and Asgore would laugh with her. So one day, he had asked Mike about it. Mike had just chuckled, telling him that he would understand when it was time.

     Tenna wondered what it was.

    Fifty seemed to know as well, but he was teasing Tenna as if he didn't know what it was. The TV, though, didn't know everything. He wasn't a mastermind! He was annoyed by the secrecy.

    He would spend most of his time in his office trying to give it some color and character, but he still needed more. He had brought some of his VHS tapes from his room, decorating it, and had also managed to find some equipment that an office had. Racks, shelves, posters, bookshelves, plants... and yet it was bland. He would stay in his chair, looking at his desk, annoyed most of the time, trying to find ways to start a show. He would eventually max out his trash bin with crumpled papers, and not a single idea would have formed. The board in the wall was empty as always...

    At least, Mike had learned how to play music and played from time to time, lighting at least the room. That power, though, wasn't strong yet, so the office would still turn bland... depressing really.

    Mike would still be by his side more than ever. Tenna didn't mind. He had someone to speak with and together they would discuss how to get the TV world better. Tenna was still bad at hosting. Tenna would say he was getting worse... Mike had noticed it as well. He didn't know why it was that way, but he was still hopeful. Tenna hoped to stay like that.

    Tenna would visit the other worlds, exploring them, learning their ways. It was refreshing. He could talk with other darkners and learned how their own worlds affected them. He was still hiding under that hideous coat he had, but he wouldn't dare to get it off him. He would simply say he was a screen if he was asked, and if he noticed that the others were getting suspicious, he would leave. The blinking light would become harsh when he would start to get into the petrification process, and that would be his cue to leave. Though his time on other worlds was plenty, Tenna would leave sooner than the blinking light started the warning.

    His time had increased a lot, and that made him invisible sometimes, as he could examine and explore the other worlds as long as he needed. Still... he was careful. He didn't want to feel the petrification again taking place. Still, it was reversible but only if someone took him back to his world... which he had none at the moment to take him if that happened. Fifty wasn't that strong and Mike, even though stronger than before, couldn't get hold of him. After all, Tenna was hosting him, so without him, his signal would flutter.

    Until Tenna had his darkners, he would be extra careful of his outgoings.

    On one of the quieter days, as his Lightners would not have switched him on, Tenna would feel a weird sensation over him. He was more focused on improving his rooms when he had passed Fifty, and that weird feeling would appear again.

    At first, Tenna thought nothing of it. He had seen Fifty act this weird before. Muttering, pacing, snapping at shadows. But this time, it was different.

    Tenna caught him in the corners of the studio that day, lips moving as though in conversation. Other times it was by the bridge, sometimes near the covered Z-rank door. His voice would rise, low and insistent, as though bargaining, pleading, begging.

    And then... silence.

    Fifty’s head would dip, his grin faltering. No response. The hallucination faded. Tenna’s antennas prickled every time. He was speaking to someone... or something that wasn’t answering back.

    One evening, Tenna finally had enough. He caught him in the corridor, one hand clawing the walls to steady himself, whispering. “ ... why don't you speak then…?”

     “Fifty!” Tenna’s voice rang, sharp with concern. “Are you... ok?”

    The sticker froze. His attention finally switched, grounding him at the studio where he was supposed to be. His lip curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

    “Ha... You wouldn’t get it, boss.”

 

     ...

              ...boss?

 

    Before Tenna could press him further, his own chest flared.

 

      “!!”

 

     His screen lit violently, flashing white. Pain clawed into him, sharp and sudden, forcing his hands against his chest. His claws scraped sparks against the metal as he bent forward, gasping.

     “Tenna?!” Mike’s voice cried out, feeling his desperation as he rushed to him as well as his stars.

     Something clicked inside. A sharp pain... Tenna could feel it change his chest, as he violently gasped for air at the sudden change. He felt his screen getting wet from the pressure, and his tail was emitting harsh electricity in the air, causing the lights above to flicker. His antennas were stoic, not buzzing, which made Tenna question them for a brief second, until finally they buzzed and... the pain stopped.

    Tenna could breathe normally again as he gasped for the air he needed. His claws had created tents on the floor, which he knew he would need to fix, but at the moment, he felt relief over his entire body. He heard his friends speaking to him, trying to reach him, but his mind was too preoccupied with grounding himself.

    Finally, his screen flickered back to the usual white, and finally, his mouth appeared. He moved his body back, finally kneeling, and he looked down on his chest where the pain had started.

    Mike’s eyes widened. Embedded in Tenna’s chest on the left side was a slot. A sleek black DVD player tray had emerged, humming faintly with power. To the left was now the old chest plate. His body had changed as he was looking more like a human in the torso and he could feel his stomach more flexible.

    Which meant that the Lightners had changed him again.

    A new thing had been added to him, a DVD player, as Fifty had recognized, but Tenna, even though still wheezing with pain and not used to his new body, stumbled toward his stage. The screen behind the stage switched on, the feed from his Lightners flooding his vision. He blinked hard, focusing.

    Toriel’s living room filled the display. She wasn’t alone this evening. Friends, neighbors, coworkers, all gathered together. Laughter and chatter rang out. Asgore stood proudly, his uniform crisp, Toriel by his side, glowing with warmth. Rudolph and Carol were there, smiling as well, drinking with other people Tenna had seen before but didn't recognize. He saw tables full of food and gifts. One of them had been opened, a bright box that showed the new equipment Tenna had now in his chest. Another Lightner came into focus and put something in the DVD player. A music disk, which emitted music in the room, creating a small party.

    Tenna could feel his slot coming to life as the music played around his stage, not having heard this kind of music before. A new experience, a new power he hadn't thought he would get. Mike seemed overjoyed as the stars around them started to dance to the rhythm, feeling the warmth of the party.

     They were all celebrating.

    Tenna tilted his head, still clutching his chest. “What… why?”

    Then his eyes caught it. A banner strung above the sofa, bold letters scrawled across it:

     'IT’S A BOY.'

    Tenna’s antennas flickered with confusion. He looked at Mike, bewildered. “What does that mean?”

    Mike chuckled softly, shaking his head. His waves were soft and warm around Tenna’s shoulders. “I think you... know what it means.”

    Tenna turned back to the feed, gaze falling on Toriel. She was smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her, her hand resting gently against her stomach. Asgore laughed warmly beside her.

    And suddenly… Tenna understood.

    His chest ached again, but not with pain this time. His screen glimmered faintly, and before he realized it, a rare, new smile spread across his face. Tenna’s tail swayed behind him, his earlier worries slipping just for that moment. He didn’t know why it filled him with joy, only that it did. His Lightners were growing.

    He would soon welcome a new Dremuurr into the family.

 

 

 

         -ooo-

 

 

 

    Days passed after his Lightners had shown Tenna that a new member would come to the house. Tenna was excited to meet that little boy. He wondered how he would look, if he would like TV, how he would react to Tenna... so many questions but no answers. Well, he needed only to wait a little longer.

    Tenna found himself spending hours shaping and reshaping, his claws scratching blueprints into paper, trying to create a more kid-friendly place. Now with his new DVD slot, he had music playing around his green room, and with Mike's help, he could hold it better. He still wasn't used to it, as he would feel when his Lightners would put something in his slot. Sometimes music, sometimes movies, other times.... some R-rated stuff... classic Asgore... and other times DVDs with memories he didn't know his Lightners had recorded. It was fascinating how they could do that. He was able to do it as well, but only by his screen... he wondered if one day he would also be in any shots he took.

    After his encounter with that cloud, Tenna tried to search for it. He didn’t make any breakthroughs, and neither did Mike, since he couldn't feel it. Tenna wondered if he had hallucinated, but the snow on the stage had shown him otherwise. The cloud was somewhere hiding somewhere... perhaps playing with his rain... or rather snow.

    Tenna hoped he would meet that cloud again. It seemed friendly, it had character like a darkner would have. It felt like it was one... perhaps if Toriel stayed again in the weather channel, because when he did, nothing would appear. Maybe one day he would meet that creature again...

    Though his eyes would catch another shadow in the studio...

     Fifty.

    The sticker grew quieter by the day, less mocking, less loud. Instead, Tenna would find him standing at odd places, the covered Z-rank door, the bridge overlooking the void, or corners where shadows pooled too thickly. His lips always moved. Whispers. Conversations that had no answers.

    Tenna’s tail twitched nervously every time he overheard. He was calling for someone... 'heaven'... 'you know best'...

    ...

    Tenna tried several times to talk to him. To drag him out of it, remind him where he was, who he was with. But each attempt was interrupted. Mike calling, the Lightners switching him on, the stage demanding his presence. Every chance slipped away.

    His instincts screamed at him, though. To keep trying. So he did.

    One day, he found himself standing over the snow he knew too well. He was wearing only his white shirt and black trousers. He had rolled up his sleeves, giving the impression of a normal person. It was also because he wanted to see the blinking light on his forearm better. He started to dress a little more casually. He didn't know what the baby would feel if he saw him with his formal getup. He wanted to give the best impression. He wanted to show him that he was friendly. He hoped he showed the part...

    He could see his breath coming out as short puffs of white as he looked around his territory. It was quieter lately. No TVs had larked in, and nothing weird had happened. Still, he would take some strolls out, investigating, overseeing his area. Sometimes he would search for new things... maybe for any darkners as well, lost in the show.

     Nothing...

    His tail buzzed with electricity, creating warmth that Tenna needed. He watched ahead of him for nothing in particular. His antennas had been lowered, not bothering him. Weird indeed. The snow was heavier, perhaps because his Lightners hadn't switched him on for a while. He knew why, though...

     Toriel was about to give birth.

    Soon, he would welcome the new member.

    Still... his instincts were strong warning him of something that wasn’t seen. Tenna didn't know what. Something in the snow pressed against his nerves. He couldn’t name it, couldn’t see it, but his instincts refused to let him rest.

    Whatever was wrong, it was close.

     “Tenna?” Mike’s voice called, low but curious. “You’re still out here? You’ll freeze if you keep standing around like that.”

    Tenna didn’t turn. His screen reflected the dull white of the snow. “Something is here... I don’t know what. But it’s here. Somewhere.”

    Mike followed his gaze. He noticed how Tenna’s screen hadn’t shifted for minutes, locked toward the same stretch of horizon beyond the bridge.

    “...You’ve been staring out there for a while now.”

    Tenna finally moved, his antennas twitching and buzzing with a faint hum. He rolled his shoulders, then looked at Mike, his expression steady.

     "Come with me.”

    Mike blinked. The way Tenna said it wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a plea. It was a command. For a heartbeat, he felt the pull, the authority of a boss. A noticeable change. And instead of feeling annoyed, he smiled faintly. Proud, even.

     “Whatever you wish.”

    Together, they stepped across the bridge. The void stretched beneath them endlessly as always, but Tenna’s pace never faltered. His tail sparked brighter, guiding them with a faint warmth against the bitter breeze.

    The further they walked, the more his antennas crackled, pulling him forward like a compass. The snow swirled heavily, trying to veil whatever was ahead, but Tenna felt it. Stronger. Closer.

    Finally, he stopped at the end of the bridge... so... it was beyond the bridge, or rather under it. Towards the graveyard. Tenna didn't like this. Was the entity there? Had it come back? No. His instincts were screaming that. He felt danger, uncertainty.

    He stared at the darkness in silence. He knew that he would go down soon enough to investigate, but his antennas caught something, a strange pressure filled the air around them.

 

    This was ominous.

 

                                    A ring.

 

    Tenna bit his lips... the human had warned him. Beware of the rings...

 

    

 

 

            And here it was...

 

 

 

 

    He needed to investigate.

    The snow grew heavier as Tenna stepped off the bridge, his tail creating sparks and small flashes of light against the shadows. The graveyard loomed ahead, the forest of broken TVs standing silent as always. He remembered when the place used to terrify him, the way the screens stood silent, and how the static would create an eerie atmosphere like ghosts overseeing them. But now? He walked taller. His claws didn’t tremble, his focus unmatched.

    He was surprising Mike, but at this moment, Tenna felt responsible for their safety.

 

 

     Riiing.

 

 

    The sound cut through the air like a blade. It was sharp, mechanical.

    Tenna froze, his antennas buzzing violently as the sound stabbed at his senses. He turned his screen, narrowing on the graveyard’s far end. It started to annoy him.

    Mike’s expression stiffened. “...You hear that too, right?”

    Tenna stopped for a moment. "You didn't before?"

    Mike’s waves flickered. "No."

    Tenna continued steadily, more carefully than before. "It got louder now."

    That wasn't reassuring. Why didn't Mike hear it before? They followed the ringing, weaving past crooked screens until, at last, the source revealed itself.

     ...Fifty?

    The sticker stood at the center clearing, bathed in pale light like he was on center stage. His body was stiff and his head bowed. In front of him sat an old, black phone. Rotary, heavy, dust clinging to it like it hadn’t been touched in years. It sat on a small wooden table half-buried in snow. Its cord hung loosely, cut at the end. Yet still, it rang.

    Tenna’s breath caught. His tail flared, and his antennas buzzed loudly.

     “Fifty!" He barked, louder than he meant. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

    The ringing stopped.

    Fifty lifted his head slowly. His sticker face turned toward them, his expression calm.

    “...Nothing.” His voice carried no bite this time, only a strange softness. “I just came here to spend some time. You know I like this place.”

    Tenna’s jaw clenched. He did know. That much was true. Fifty always lingered here, among broken things. But his eyes flicked toward the phone again. He could feel it humming even if it was broken.

     “You’re lying!” Tenna muttered. “That phone doesn’t belong here. Why are you staring at it?”

    Fifty turned fully now, his gaze heavy, unreadable. “You don’t understand, Tenna. This graveyard… it’s not just dead TVs or your little graveyard of unwanted TVs. It’s the store's trash place."

    "Since when?" Mike yelled. "This world belongs to Tenna. It can't be connected to the store. Tenna was moved to a new house."

    "Well... radiology... I belong to the store. Which means until I am gone... I will still have a part in the world. This graveyard in particular... has things that I was stuck to. All these things are thrown away, abandoned. Not taken...”

    His glow traced the air above the phone. “This phone wasn’t bought. It wasn’t picked up. It wasn’t answered. So it came here. Simple as that.”

    The snow fell heavier, pressing cold into Tenna’s skin. His instincts screamed.

    “That thing is dangerous!” Tenna snapped, stepping closer, his tail whipping in agitation. “I can feel it. It’s not... safe.”

    He raised a claw.

     “Don’t you dare!”

    Fifty’s voice cracked like thunder, louder than Tenna had ever heard from him. The TVs nearby flickered violently, their static bursting in jagged tones. For once, the sticker didn’t sound mocking, he sounded furious.

    Tenna froze mid-step, claw trembling in the air. Mike stiffened behind him, his radio waves a reminder behind them.

     “Why?” Fifty’s tone shook, almost desperate now. “Why would you destroy it? You don’t even know it. You just look at it and decide it shouldn’t exist. That it’s wrong."

    Tenna’s claw clenched tighter, sparks snapping along his knuckles. He stared at Fifty. The glow in his sticker edges was wrong, uneven, jagged with emotion he had never allowed to show before. Tenna’s screen flickered faintly, the static at his edges betraying his unease.

    “Fifty…” His voice was low, controlled, but his aggression was still beneath. “You don’t understand."

     Tenna hesitated as he muttered the next part. "Beware of the rings...”

    The words landed heavily, though they were heard. Fifty’s whole body jerked, his glow twitching like a candle in the wind.

     “The rings…?” His tone was sharp, almost disbelieving. He finally whispered. “…Is that what the myth told you?”

    Tenna hesitated. His antennas buzzed, his tail sparked against the snow. His silence said enough. Finally, he gave the smallest nod.

    Fifty’s glow pulsed, bright and furious. His voice cracked into static. “Unbelievable. So you’ll take the word of something you barely know, a myth, a whisper... over me? Over Mike? Over your friends?!” His words tore through the still graveyard.

    Tenna’s screen flashed black, his voice firm now. “And why does it matter what the myth said if you don’t even trust me?!”

    That stopped Fifty for a moment. His glow dimmed, his outline jittering as if the sticker itself were being peeled away. His eyes narrowed, studying Tenna in silence. Then, slowly, deliberately, his glow steadied.

    And he laughed.

 

    And laughed... and laughed and laughed...

 

 

 

    ...

 

    It wasn’t the usual chuckle, sharp and playful. It was something colder, biting. A mockery that crawled under Tenna’s skin.

    “So that’s how it is, huh?” Fifty tilted his head, his sticker smile stretching. “If you want to play this game, Tenna… then I’ll play this game too.”

    “This phone stays. I’m stuck to it after all. Maybe I was supposed to be on it! Maybe that’s the whole point.” His glow flared, edges sharp like knives. “And why is that? Doesn’t matter. You should trust me. Isn’t that what a good protector does? Trust his Darkners? Follow their commands?”

    The words cut deep, pressing the weight of a ruler, a protector, back onto Tenna.

    Tenna’s screen burned, a sharp glow of resistance. His tail cracked lightning into the snow, hissing steam. He growled, voice rough. He... was losing...

    “Fifty, don’t you dare!”

    "Dare what, outdated tech of trash? Dare what?"

    Tenna bit his lips, not wanting to continue. His tail was still moving uncontrollably, his claws by his side, unmoving but trembling with emotion.

     Don't you dare make me choose...

    His claws twitched, his screen fuzzed, static flaring along its edges. Tenna’s breath hitched, short and sharp. His instincts begged him... no, demanded him... to tear, to shred, to end this standoff with tooth and claw.

     To destroy the phone...

    The feral side he had tried to keep buried surged forward, clawing at his ribs. His tail lashed like a whip, sparks cutting the air in jagged bursts. His antennas rose high, buzzing so violently the sound rattled the broken TVs around them. His chest heaved. His vision blurred.

    And then...

     SNAP!

    His bent antenna flared bright and struck him with a surge of current. A jolt straight through his screen. He gasped, jerking back. For a moment, everything was white.

    Then the haze cleared, and Tenna’s breath steadied. His claws stopped trembling. His tail stilled. His glowing screen dimmed to his usual white. He had lost. He knew it. The phone wasn’t leaving... Fifty had won this battle. But Tenna would not give him the satisfaction of seeing him break. Not fully.

    Tenna stood silent for long moments. He did not look at Fifty. He refused. Finally, with one small nod, he accepted.

    Fifty blinked, startled, his glow shifting uncertainly. That wasn’t the reaction he had expected.

    Mike opened his mouth to speak. “Tenna...”

    But Tenna’s tail snapped forward, wrapping around the phone in a harsh grip. His sparks danced over its surface, crackling with frustration. There was a faint ringing which died under his touch as he yanked it up roughly, dragging it behind him like something toxic.

    Without another word, he turned and left the graveyard. Mike stumbled after him, torn between speaking and holding his tongue. Fifty stood frozen, his glow dimming in confusion.

    The studio doors slammed open under Tenna’s weight. He stormed past the huge corridor, past the walls he had painted, and straight toward the damn Z-rank door. The one he had boarded up, locked away, banished.

    His claws tore the boards down like they were paper. The sound echoed sharp and violent, wood splintering across the floor. Mike flinched as Tenna shoved the door open, the rusty hinges groaning in protest.

    The Z-rank room yawned open, dark, suffocating. The same eerie aura caught Tenna’s nerves, making him close his eyes, feeling overwhelmed once again, but his anger was stronger this time.

    Tenna strode inside and slammed the phone down onto the cold stone, his tail still gripping it like a weapon. Then, with one harsh tug, he ripped its cord clean out, sparks scattering as the wires snapped. The phone went silent, dead in his grip.

    He stepped back, chest heaving, then shoved the door closed with such force the walls of the studio rattled.

    At last, he turned. His screen glowed, sharp and deadly, locking onto Fifty.

     Neither spoke.

    For long, tense seconds, their gazes clashed. Tenna’s burning with quiet annoyance, Fifty’s unreadable but unsettled. And in that silence, Fifty realized it... Tenna had followed his command… but in his own way. He had claimed a victory in defeat. A foot planted firmly down.

    The phone had stayed. But it was his choice where and how.

    Tenna broke the gaze first, turning away without a word. His stars swirled around him protectively as he marched back into the studio’s green room. Mike lingered one last moment, staring at Fifty with worry, then followed quickly after his host.

    Leaving the sticker behind.

    The studio fell silent. For the first time in what felt like forever, Fifty was alone.

 

    Truly

                utterly

                              alone.

    ...

 

 

     Riiing.

 

 

    Muffled, but clear...

                                    Fifty looked at the door...

                                                                              Z-rank room.

 

 

     Riiing.

 

 

      ...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     Days passed.

    Tenna forced himself into routine, even though nothing felt the same. He still walked around his studio and bridge, still tended to the sets, still scribbled new ideas into paper with claws that left grooves too deep.

   But the shift was undeniable.

    Fifty grew quieter, but not with peace. He wasn’t mocking anymore, not jeering or laughing in that old sharp way. Instead, Tenna often found him staring at the locked Z-rank door, at the distant void, at nothing at all. Sometimes his lips moved, silent words whispered to a phone Tenna refused to think about.

    Tenna ignored him. He had to. If he thought too much about that ring still echoing in his screen, he might lose himself again. He hated that he couldn't turn back the time , he hated that Fifty wasn't talking to him anymore. He hated that damn silence...

    His stars were still tending to the studio, lighting it up and Mike continued helping around. They were both equally confused over Fifty’s sudden change of behavior, but none tried to talk Tenna out of it. He had his reasons, and they would trust him. Tenna could see the others trying to talk to Fifty, trying to make him speak to Tenna, but none had managed to change Fifty’s idea.

    Tenna wouldn't be the first to talk... he knew he wasn't at the wrong. He would not back down that easily. Even though it hurt when he was drinking alone in the bar or when he was going out to the other worlds.

     It hurt...

    ...

    Until one day, he saw something wonderful.

    The studio walls shimmered, and the feed shifted. Tenna felt the pull with his antennas. He wasn't turned on, but he knew his Lightners had returned, meaning... he would see the new member.

     Asriel.

    Toriel’s gentle smile filled the screen. Her eyes were heavy with tiredness, but her warmth was brighter than ever. And in her arms, wrapped in soft cloth, his tiny horns just barely visible, was him.

    The baby’s horns were so small. His little face was scrunched, eyes not even fully open, but Tenna swore there was something there already... something familiar, something eternal.

    Tenna didn’t speak at first. His claws clenched against his side, his antennas stiff and sparking faintly. His static hummed warm, low, like a lullaby only he could hear.

    His chest ached. He was with his Lightners all his life. Flowing in and out, watching, laughing, switching the channels without care. He knew how they were acting, knew their ways, knew their routine. He had lived with them, starting to understand them, growing with them. But this, this new life, wasn’t just another moment. It was a beginning.

    A new story he wasn’t ready for but longed to be part of.

    A static hum rose from his chest, unsteady, breaking like a laugh caught between sobs. He pressed his claws to the edge of the screen, shaking, trying to steady himself, but failing. His tail whipped nervously behind him, sparks spilling faint warmth across the stage.

    “...He’s beautiful. ” Tenna whispered, though no one could hear. His voice cracked anyway.

    He couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop trembling. It hurt, but not in the way loneliness hurt. This was something else. He had never felt it so clear, so raw. Another kind of love that had no strings, no reasons, no bargaining. Just there, infinite, unshakable.

    Toriel, rocking her baby, smiled with that tired, tender glow only mothers had. She didn’t know. She didn’t realize her TV, standing silent in the corner of her living room, was watching from another world. Watching, and breaking.

    His chest ached with it. He didn’t just love Asriel because he was Toriel’s child, or because he belonged to the family Tenna had sworn himself to. He loved him because, as soon as he saw him, something inside him clicked.

     That was his family.

    Not by blood, not by Lightner rules, but in every way that mattered.

    Tenna’s screen glowed softer, the static around him vibrating with warmth, like the whole studio shared in the feeling. He let out a trembling laugh, pressing his claw harder to the screen as if he could hold the little boy.

    Mike leaned at the edge of Tenna’s stage, his static flickering faint but steady. He didn’t say anything at first either, just studied Tenna’s trembling frame. Then, slowly, a smile formed across his face. Proud of the way Tenna’s screen softened, proud of the way he pressed his claw to the screen like he could touch the little boy through it. Watching his tail swayed so fast but so softly, watching him smile...

    Mike looked away after a while. He was a little overwhelmed too .

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Days passed.

    Fifty stopped wandering the halls so much. More and more, Tenna found him in the Z-rank room. Sitting in the center of the floor, his sticker body slouched, but his gaze sharp. Sometimes muttering, sometimes laughing low to himself, sometimes completely silent for hours. The door would glow faintly when he was in there.

     Tenna hated it.

    But whenever he tried to approach, the silence was too heavy. The static between them was too loud.

    His relationship with Fifty didn’t improve. If anything, the distance grew.

    ...

    He started to do more rehearsals, trying to improve his hosting skills. Nothing worked. He tried so much to do, what he was supposed to, but there wasn't any spark in it. Perhaps what was happening made him fail so miserably...

    Either way, he tried and tried. He had a member to play for. And yet he couldn't do it.

     What was he doing wrong?

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Toriel was gone one day, off running errands. And Asgore was on babysitting duty. Tenna’s situation was the same. Mike was testing his new equipment around the studio, the stars were sleeping for today as they had lightened the shows Tenna needed.

     He didn't care where Fifty was...

    Tenna was alone on the stage, watching his family from the seats. Asgore had stayed and played with Asriel, having a small break from work, as Tenna had understood later. He had opened the TV to have something to hear, and Tenna today didn't want to spend his day in his office. He was tired of looking at the same walls every day, trying to come up with ideas.

    At first, all was well. Asgore seemed to play with Asriel, bounced him in his arms, hummed low, soothing tunes. But eventually the sofa creaked, his eyelids drooped, and the great king began to snore softly in his seat. He had managed to put Asriel in the playpen at least, but Tenna wondered sometimes if Asgore was tired or just bland, ignorant...

    Asriel seemed to enjoy himself, though laughing at the many toys he had. Tenna smiled at his childish innocence. As he continued playing, Tenna decided that it was enough. He stretched himself as he stood up from the seats and walked to the stage, ready to leave it. He glanced one last time at the screen on the stage as he passed, ready to call it a night.

     Tenna’s screen flickered suddenly.

    A channel switched. Not one Toriel would approve of. Tenna stopped. Did Asgore touch the remote by accident? Tenna turned to look at the stage.

    Bright colors came up. Sharp, loud voices, strange violence disguised as comedy, music thumping with beats no baby should hear. Tenna touched his screen in shock. This was inappropriate!

    Tenna’s antennas stiffened immediately. He could see Asriel’s eyes, wide and staring, his little body tense.

    “Wake up!” Tenna hissed. “Wake up, Asgore! Wake up!!”

     No answer. The snores rolled on.

     What an idiot...

    Tenna’s tail lashed, sparking hot with his frustration. His antennas buzzed wildly, twitching toward the playpen where Asriel sat frozen, tiny hands clutching a stuffed toy tight against his chest, eyes locked on the screen.

    "Ah! No... no, no no!"

    Tenna would walk towards the center, entering the holograms, but his outfit wouldn't change with the show. Still wearing the casual fit he had made, it clashed with the bright colors the damn show had, making him stand out.

    "This is not for you! This is trash! Annoying trash, Asriel!" Tenna would continue as he tried to clean the holograms, but they stayed on playing.

    Tenna clenched his screen in worry. His tail swayed around, showing annoyance, while his antennas buzzed loudly, trying to switch the channel. Tenna turned to look at the screen, looking at Asriel, who seemed to focus on the TV more.

    "Ah! ENOUGH ALREADY!" He suddenly said, and the stage seemed to obey.

    The holograms fizzed out like dying embers. Tenna breathed better now as he put his hand on his legs, trying to calm himself.

    "And, hahaha, don't think you'll be able to try anything funny." He said to his stage, trying to silence it for a while. "My guest here doesn't seem to be into drama."

    He laughed to himself, but then a chill ran through his spine. He suddenly noticed that he was in the center of the stage alone. He stood up too quickly for comfort, but he turned to look at the screen. Across from him, Asriel blinked up at him. His wide little eyes softened, his mouth opening in wonder.

    Tenna froze for just a breath. He moved slowly to the left and then to the right. Asriel seemed to follow his movements, as his little head would move whenever he went. He smiled at that.

    Tenna twirled around himself, half by instinct, half by nervous habit. And when he looked back, Asriel was laughing. A bright, innocent little giggle bubbled out of him, his small hands clapping against the bars of the playpen.

    Tenna’s antennas flickered. His claws twitched. Something inside him cracked wide open.

    “…You like that, huh?” He said softly, voice uncertain, almost embarrassed. Then he straightened, slapped his claws to his hips, and tilted his screen into a broad, exaggerated smile.

    “Well then... welcome, welcome, little star! You’ve just tuned in to Tenna’s Time!”

    He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. It just poured out of him.

    His words were gentle, his movements careful. He danced with color and shape, letting the screen blossom into soft worlds for Asriel. No sharp words but stories, songs, and warmth.

    On the other side of the screen, Toriel had returned. She leaned against the doorframe of her living room, eyes soft as she watched her son stare at the television, utterly enraptured. Her smile deepened as Asriel giggled, clapping his tiny hands against the air as though he could reach Tenna. Asgore had woken up from Asriel’s shouts and watched the kid with a smile. A tired smile but full of warmth.

    When the program reached its end, Tenna bowed low, his screen bright and warm. He lifted a claw, waving toward the baby watching him.

    "That’s all for today, folks! I hope to see you again!" He smiled at Asriel.

    Asriel’s smile widened, gummy and innocent. He waved back with clumsy little fingers. Tenna’s smile almost broke. He didn’t want the moment to end.

    But the switch clicked, and the screen went black. Tenna sighed, finally letting the moment end as he calmed his nerves.

     Applause.

    Tenna turned, startled... then froze.

    Behind him, in the seats of the audience, his stars were there. They sat in neat rows on the seats, glowing faintly, clapping their little hands together in rhythm. And at the center of them sat Mike. His static body leaned forward, his grin wide but full of pride. His waves seemed to clap as well for Tenna.

     “You did it. ” Mike said simply, his voice steady, not letting the emotion come through. “You hosted.”

    Tenna froze, looking at his friends. His antennas buzzed with sparks. His screen flickered, shifting between too many emotions at once. He pressed a claw to his chest, feeling something like warmth against his heart.

    He had done it. Not for ratings, not for approval, not for survival. But for someone who mattered. For his family.

    The wave hit him all at once. Hope. Overwhelming, rushing, dizzying hope. He had thought himself stuck, not ready... even cursed with failure. But no, he could. He could bring joy. He could guide.

     He could host.

    Tears of static fuzzed the edges of his screen. His tail curled tightly around him, trembling with the force of his emotions. He felt his friends laughing, celebrating with him, not even once doubting him.

     He would treasure this moment forever.

    From beyond the glass, faint voices carried through, Toriel and Asgore, speaking softly to their son.

    “Well, my child...” Toriel chuckled gently, brushing Asriel’s little tuft of fur. “...it seems TV time will need to be… monitored for now.”

    Asgore’s deep laugh followed, warm but amused. “Yes, but it seems he’s already found a favorite channel."

    Tenna pressed his claws to his screen, breath catching, having heard his Lightners. His antennas twitched, and with all the strength of his new hope, the words came to him. They were right. They were there all this time...

     “It’s TV Time!”

    His voice rang across the stage, echoing through every corner of the studio. The stars erupted, bursting into cheers, clapping, twinkling brighter than ever. Some floated higher, glowing trails following them like confetti.

    Mike stood at the center of them all, his static body humming with pride. “You’ve found it.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered wildly. He turned his face away, pressing his claws against it, trying to contain the storm of emotions rushing through him. His tail coiled tightly around his legs, trembling. He was too overwhelmed with emotions, but he hugged his friends back, feeling proud and overjoyed. Laughter bubbled out of him, cracked and uneven, but real.

    He had done it.

    He had hosted.

    

Notes:

It seems Tenna slowly becomes the TV he is today. Fifty seems to be trapped in a familiar kind of trap we had seen before. I wonder what will happen to him... and yes, the human is our vessel 😉 and the cloud is Elnina.

Chapter 6: Caught In The Spotlight

Notes:

Hello everyone and welcome back! I am really happy how this chapter turned out! More world building and characters join us. Let's go!

     "…It’s TV time, huh?” Fifty whispered to himself.

    The sticker’s body leaned against the far wall of the studio. His face was unreadable, thinking about that day. His hollow eyes were fixed on Tenna that day. The day Tenna had finally became a host.

    He had seen it all, the baby’s laughter, Toriel’s smile, the stars clapping, and Mike’s pride. And for the first time in a long time, something had stirred within him. Not jealousy. Not annoyance.

     Hope.

    His mind had told him to move, to celebrate with Tenna. Just to… say something. Anything.

    But then it had wrapped around him.

    A silent grip, cold and invisible, coiling around his wrist. He had frozen, breath hitching, though no one else seemed to notice. The pull was gentle, almost comforting, but undeniable.

     Not yet.

    Not for him.

    Without a sound, he had turned.

    He turned back into the shadows, letting Tenna’s laughter echo behind him like a promise. Fifty lowered his head, looking at the ground.

    The stage no longer sat in silence. Where once Fifty had wandered restless through empty sets, now the air filled with gentle color and sound. He could see that the stage had changed, still housing shows with the same holograms since Tenna couldn't do all shows yet, but he could see that it had changed. It was more open, welcoming Tenna now.

     Little shows. That's what Tenna could manage at best. Well, he was still new at this. He needed to get better, and the best person he could do that with was none other than the baby who would watch Tenna with happiness every time he showed on the stage.

    Now the screen behind the stage would light with colors, shapes, and song while the Lightners would appear on the screen behind the seats. So... they were the audience that Tenna had for now, until finally the seats would have darkners on them. Fifty hoped it would...

    Asriel laughed at Tenna’s stories, clapped at his dances, and reached for the screen when Tenna leaned close to wave him goodnight. And while the Dremurr parents pretended to be disinterested, Toriel with her polite, approving nods, Asgore with his gruff smiles, it was clear enough...

     They trusted Tenna now.

    Fifty lingered at the edge of the stage again, his shadow stretched thin. He had grown used to it. The silence of his corners, the quiet weight of watching without being seen. He missed having attention, but lately, he was content with staying in the dark, feeling it warmer than before. Almost comfortably...

    He had seen the change. Tenna had improved. At first, clumsy. His claws too stiff, his screen too bright, his words too shaky. But each time Asriel laughed, each time Mike adjusted the dials or the stars swirled in to give him props, Tenna sharpened.

     He began to move like a host.

    His tail no longer just lashed in frustration, it traced arcs in the air, emphasizing his movements. His claws no longer shook in worry, they pointed, gestured. Even as a feral, awkward TV, Tenna had begun to craft something wonderful.

    Fifty found himself… impressed. Almost proud. But with that pride came unease because he remembered the warning.

     TVs shouldn’t host.

    He didn’t know where the thought first came from. Not until the phone in the Z-rank whispered it clear. The phone that Tenna always avoided. Its voice, slow and deliberate, had etched the truth into him.

    TVs are feral... monsters, animals... If they host… if they grow too bright… they burn out.

    Cleaved red into nothing....

    So why did watching Tenna make it so hard to believe that? Why did his chest tighten whenever he saw the little world on stage blossom more?

    The holograms shifted, brighter, more colorful now than ever before. The TV world was beginning to bloom again. And at its center stood Tenna.

    No longer only a protector. He started to look like a boss. Like he belonged here...

    One night, Fifty got out of the Z-rank room. He was starting to spend more time there, hearing the phone speak to him. He started to understand it better. It had some wisdom that he hadn't heard before. He started to like its murmurs. Even if he didn't pick up the phone since Tenna had taken out the cord, he could hear it speak. Something to ease the pain...

    As he floated around, he decided to go to the bar. It was late. The Lightners had slept, and he knew that the TV world would also. Tenna's stars were sleeping in the walls as Fifty saw, and he couldn't hear Mike’s static, meaning he was alone. As he entered the green room, he noticed that a small light was still emitting from the bar. It was quiet around the room, but in the bar, he could hear a low humming coming from it.

    Fifty had seen Tenna bringing more stuff inside his studio, and one of those things was a small jukebox. He had left it in the bar, and he would open it from time to time to listen to the tunes it could still play. Even though Tenna had been blessed with a DVD player and could play whatever he wanted on his screen, even music, he used Mike’s power or the jukebox more. Perhaps because he wanted to hear the music, not emit it. Either way, Fifty knew who was humming a familiar song in there.

    Tenna sat hunched over the counter, antennas drooping, his screen dim. His claws wrapped loosely around a half-filled glass. He was wearing the new outfit he had made for the baby, the white shirt and black trousers combo. His shirt was slightly open, perhaps to get the warmth from the drink out of his system. He looked overwhelmed but happy. Tired but alive. He continued humming, though, lost in thought.

    Fifty took a step forward. Then another. Until finally, he slid onto the stool beside him.

     The hum stopped.

    Tenna turned his screen slightly, antennas twitching. The jukebox carried on, filling the space between them with awkward silence. Fifty looked ahead at the lone bar, not knowing what to say as his body guided him here, while Tenna wasn't facing him, looking down at his drink.

    It was... truly gloomy.

    “…I know this song.” Finally, Fifty managed to say, looking down now at the counter.

    Tenna didn’t answer at first. His claws tapped idly on the counter. After a long pause, his static voice rasped.

     “Cool.”

    The silence returned. Thicker now. But this time, Fifty pushed through it.

    “…You seem better at hosting.”

    Tenna’s glow flickered faintly. He didn’t look at him, just nodded once.

     Fifty exhaled, leaning his elbows on the counter. His words were slow, cautious.

    “I know things have changed. The stage. You. But… I was there. That day. When you pulled it off for the first time. When the kid smiled, and the others clapped, and… you became a host for real.”

    Tenna’s claws tightened slightly on his glass. He didn’t lift his head, didn’t show the screen’s glow, just gave a small nod and muttered.

     “Thanks...”

    Fifty studied him quietly, then added. “…The TV world is changing. Just like you.”

    Finally, Tenna tilted his screen, looking at him properly for the first time. The glow was faint, but steady. His mouth was a straight line in the white screen, like a heart monitor showing no signs of life. Fifty watched it for a moment, feeling overwhelmed by the second, as he felt the pull of that line...

     “…And you?” Tenna asked finally, voice low. “Have you changed, too?”

    Fifty froze. For a moment, he thought of answering. But then... T hat familiar tug. The one he had felt before. Cold strings coiled invisible around his wrist, pulling just enough to remind him.

     Not yet.

    His hollow eyes met Tenna’s. “…No. I’m the same.”

    Even as he rubbed absently at his hand, where the invisible grip lingered.

    Tenna’s antennas drooped. His screen dimmed. “…Maybe you don’t notice. But I do... we all do.”

    He slid from his stool, standing up. His tail flicked once, then stilled. Without looking back, he walked out of the bar. Fifty remained, staring down at his hand, the strings still there. Tight. Demanding. A faint ring echoed from somewhere distant.

    From the Z-rank.

    He sat in silence for a while, caught between the warmth Tenna had left behind and the cold insistence of the pull. Finally, with a slow breath, he stood. And when the ringing came again, low and endless, Fifty turned away from the door Tenna had left through.

    He walked back into the dark.

    Toward the Z-rank room.

     Toward the phone...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    "You hosted, I heard." The human smiled as Tenna looked down at the busy streets of Cyber City.

    Tenna turned to look at the human. After he had finally started to host, days flew faster, and they were starting to get more demanding than before. The stage would call him, and now most of the time he would be busy fixing lights, taking care of the stage, and doing rehearsals. The days were demanding but... Tenna liked them.

    He was starting to become better at hosting, jokes were starting to come naturally to him, his movements fluent, and his appearance clean. Mike had started to understand the stage better and how to use his powers around the studio without thinking about them, and the stars were blooming, brighter than before. They would sometimes help with Tenna’s storytelling, and other times they would be the center of the show while Tenna would give commentary from behind.

     TV world was looking like a TV world should be.

    Asriel would follow Tenna, laugh with him, and dance with him. Toriel and Asgore would laugh watching him, but they would also stay focused on the TV watching Tenna. Meaning that Tenna’s influence had grown not only to Asriel but also to his old Lightners. Tenna tried to do an adult show, but he was still lacking the energy for it. Still... he could still host it, not that great, but better than before.

     He had improved.

    For that reason, he wanted to come and speak with the human. Share his happiness with someone. After all, Mike had calmed down and he had let Tenna go out in the other worlds alone, but only if he went out with his coat and always told where he would go. Tenna had agreed. So finally, he let the blinking light guide him to the human. The human had accepted the invitation as the light started to burn Tenna’s arm when it started to blink harshly. Tenna was ecstatic as he followed it.

    The human had smiled when they saw him, and Tenna could feel his own smile as well. It was like seeing an old friend again, ready to catch up. It was refreshing.

    "How do you find it out?" Tenna asked as he hadn't said anything about hosting yet to the human.

    The human smiled again, looking up towards the sky. "Call it a hunch." They blinked, but Tenna didn't comment on that. "Your fountain seems strong. I can feel it from here."

    Tenna’s tail wagged happily. "Really? I didn’t know you could feel them."

    "Oh, I do. And it seems to be starting to get into shape. You seem stronger as well. I can feel the change."

    Tenna smiled. He didn't know he looked different, but he could feel the new powers over him. His tail continued swaying around as he looked down the street of the city, feeling the comfortable air hitting his antennas. He had let down his hood since he knew the human wouldn't comment on his appearance. The human nodded again.

   "You will be surprised when you notice what you have done. A change too huge to be ignored. You will understand what I mean when you see it..." The human smirked. "... firsthand."

    Tenna didn't know what they meant by that, but if he had managed to cause a change, he was happy with it. The human leaned back against the railing, arms folded as they looked out over Cyber City’s neon blur.

     “Your world’s a little different.” The human said at last, voice calm, almost casual. “Cyber City shines because it runs on rhythm. Every building, every screen, every piece of code, it’s all connected. If one piece falls out of step, the rest collapse. That’s why it feels alive. Like a heart.”

    Tenna turned his screen, flickering faintly as the words sank in. “…So you’re saying I should… force it? Make it match?”

    The human smiled faintly. “No. I’m saying you should find what your world beats to. What rhythm it follow. You’ve already started it, your shows, the stars, the kid. They are the pulse. Don’t ignore it.”

    Tenna’s glow softened, a dim warmth. His tail gave a small flick. “...Yeah. I… I like the way it’s becoming. Clumsy, but mine.”

    “That’s good...” The human murmured. Their smile was quiet, but their eyes carried weight. “Even so, I can see it on you. You’re happy, but… there’s bitterness too.”

    The words hit him like static against his chest. Tenna stiffened, claws tightening against the railing. Well... he was still easy to read. His screen dimmed slightly, showing that he was caught.

    “…What do you mean?” He asked, though his voice came low.

    The human tilted their head, watching him carefully. “You didn’t notice it?"

    They smirked as Tenna looked elsewhere, as he knew that the human was sharp and had caught Tenna’s hesitation. They always kept it vague, though, like they wanted Tenna to speak. The human continued.

     "A shadow in your glow. You laugh, you perform, you keep moving forward… but something keeps tugging you back.”

    For a moment, Tenna said nothing. He looked away again, letting his antennas dip, his claws dragging slowly along the railing’s edge.

    “I am not avoiding anything!” He rasped finally. His tone wasn’t sharp, just tired. “I am trying to fix it. But… it’s not easy.”

    The human didn’t press. They only raised a brow, waiting. Tenna exhaled, static rolling out softly. He thought of the bar. The silence. Fifty’s hollow eyes. The damn phone and the cursed Z-rank room. The way Fifty seemed to be in an endless call, even though the phone didn't have a cord.

    He didn’t tell them any of that. He couldn’t. But the ache pressed out of him anyway.

    “There’s… someone.” Tenna admitted. His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Someone I… keep trying to reach. But it’s like talking to a wall. Every time I step closer, they slip further away. And… there’s something else pulling them. Something I can’t touch.”

    The human’s expression softened. Their smile was faint, almost kind. “…So that’s it. That’s what you’ve been dragging behind you.”

    Tenna’s screen dimmed further, almost becoming black. “I… don’t know how to fix it. I want to. I tried. But he just…” He cut himself short, static swallowing the end of his words.

    The human didn’t push, only let the silence linger until Tenna’s antennas twitched uncomfortably.

     “…Who is he?”

    Tenna hesitated. His glow flickered. Then, finally, he rasped. “…He’s a sticker.”

    The human blinked. Then chuckled softly, shaking their head. “A sticker, you say?”

    The human tapped their chin, a faintly amused look flickering across their face.

    “A sticker, hm? Well… stickers are tricky things.” They seemed to smirk as they continued with a voice close to a lecture. “If they are stuck to you, they leave a mark when they are peeled away. If they are stuck to the wrong surface, they wrinkle, tear, fall apart. And if you try to force them into places they don’t belong… well, they just don’t hold.”

    They gave Tenna a knowing look. “So maybe your sticker... this ‘someone’... is just clinging in the wrong place. Maybe they just need to be peeled free so they can stick where they’re supposed to. Where they will actually shine.”

    Tenna’s tail snapped once, electricity flashing down it in sharp, restless sparks. His screen buzzed faintly, static bristling in the air between them. The human paused, noticing.

    “…I’m wrong, aren’t I?” They said gently, almost like they wanted to facepalm themselves from the embarrassment.

    Tenna’s glow dimmed, his antennas drooping as he exhaled. “…No. You are right. They are a sticker, alright. But…” His claws curled against the railing. “…they are not stuck to me. They are stuck to something else entirely.”

    The human tilted their head as they didn't expect this answer. “And what would that be?”

    Tenna froze. His screen brightened, then dimmed again. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with their warning echoing in his mind.

     Beware of the rings.

    The human waited patiently, their eyes fixed on Tenna’s flickering glow. For a moment, Tenna almost told them the truth...that Fifty wasn’t on him at all, but on that damn phone. But the warning clamped his jaws shut.

    Finally, he muttered. “…I don’t know what he’s stuck on.”

    The human’s brows rose, but they didn’t press. Instead, they leaned forward slightly, voice gentle. “Then tell me… what does it feel like?”

    Tenna hesitated. His antennas twitched. He thought of the sound. That endless, hollow, unbearable ring. The kind that seeped into your skull until you couldn’t tell if it was real or not. His screen buzzed faintly as he forced the words out...

    “…Hypothetically… it feels like an endless sound. One that doesn’t stop. Not until you stop it.”

    He immediately regretted it. He was an idiot! That was too close! Too obvious! Surely the human would piece it together. Surely they would know about the ringing phone. But instead, the human only frowned in thought. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, they said.

     “…Be careful. A sticker like that? That’s bad news. Sounds like it’s corrupted.”

    Tenna’s antennas shook. “Corrupted…?”

    The human nodded, as if it was obvious. “Yes. That thing that they are clinging to doesn't seem healthy at all.”

    Tenna stared at them, his screen flickering in disbelief. The human couldn’t feel it? They had felt his fountain pulsing strongly, even from Cyber City. They had noticed his growth. How could they not notice this?

    His claws tapped against the railing, static crackling faintly, thinking carefully about his next words. “…You said you could feel my world, right? Its strength?”

    The human nodded easily, but they seemed to feel Tenna’s uneasiness.

    “…Then… can you feel him?” Tenna asked. His glow sharpened, almost pleading. “Can you feel the sticker?”

    The human hesitated. For the first time, their confident smile faltered. Their eyes shifted, uncertain. “…No.”

    And suddenly, Tenna understood. They couldn’t feel Fifty. They couldn’t feel the phone... he was stuck on. Because the sticker wasn’t clinging to his world at all. It was clinging elsewhere.

    Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

    The human tilted their head, studying Tenna carefully. “…So... You truly do have a sticker on your world?”

    Tenna’s claws scraped faintly against the railing as he nodded.

    The human went still, lips pressing together in a grim line. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they nodded back. “Then… that explains it. The sticker has already fallen too deep into the darkness for me to feel.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered, a sharp static ripple breaking across it. “Too deep…?” His voice cracked in disbelief.

    It hit him like static flooding his chest, the warning, the ringing, everything the human had said. He wasn't caught in the trap but... Fifty was.

    The human’s voice broke into his thoughts, calm but edged with something heavy. “The noise you heard?   It must have been the rings I warned you about. They didn’t mark you. They marked him. They found another target. Another one that would give the dark light to... They have already pulled him in. He’s speaking with the darkness now.”

    Tenna’s glow dimmed. “…Speaking with…?”

    The human’s gaze sharpened, steady and unflinching. “It means the darkness found someone to cling to. It gave him its blessing.”

     “Blessing…?” Tenna muttered, his antennas twitching violently. He thought of Fifty’s hollow murmurs, of how sometimes he seemed to whisper to someone that wasn’t there. His static deepened. “…What does that mean?”

    The human’s answer was immediate, cutting. “A shot at heaven.”

    The words landed like a crack of thunder. Suddenly, Tenna understood. The murmurs. The faraway look in Fifty’s eyes. He wasn’t talking to himself. He was reaching. Reaching higher. Someone above.

    His claws clenched, snapping against the railing with a sudden crack that echoed in the quiet. The metal bent under his grip. The human flinched at the sound but said nothing, only watching him with careful, unreadable eyes.

    “…Then what can I do?” Tenna demanded, frustrated. “What can I do to stop it?”

    For a long moment, the human didn’t answer. Their silence was heavier than words. Finally, they exhaled and said flatly.

    “…Nothing. It’s better that you aren’t the one corrupted with the dark light.”

    Tenna’s static hissed. His claws scraped at the railing again, his tail lashing sparks. “That’s not good enough. If I don’t do anything, then...”

    The human raised a hand, cutting him off. Their voice was quieter this time, but firm. “…Tenna. I don’t even know what you can do. This is beyond me. Beyond my influence.”

    Tenna stared at them, glow dimming, frustration crackling into the silence. His body shook faintly with the weight of it all, helplessness, fear, and a kind of anger he didn’t know how to aim. He wished for the human to lie to him, say something to ease the pain, but he knew that this was not the case.

     That damn phone!

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Days slipped by, heavy with the human’s words.

    Tenna carried them in the static between his thoughts, in the faint hum behind his shows. Whenever he looked out into the darkened wings of the stage, his glow sharpened on Fifty. After the bar encounter, he was more open now, more outgoing, but he was still not acting as he had before.

    He was out of that damn cursed door, which was something at least. Mike had noticed that as well, and even though he didn't like the sticker, he would speak to him. He was still the same cocky, annoying sticker, but his behavior was not the same as before. He was more defensive and annoying, not lighthearted.

    Mike had also noticed how Tenna had returned that day from the Cyber City. He hadn't commented on it, but Tenna had felt him. His waves were still noticeable to Tenna even when Mike thought no one was looking at him. Tenna had smiled when he had felt Mike’s waves over him, giving a small hug to ease Tenna’s nerves. Mike didn't know what had made Tenna so sad, but he knew that whatever had happened, it was something serious. And when he had found that Tenna was looking at Fifty, he wasn't stupid. He knew...

    Tenna watched Fifty a little more than he wanted to admit, but he was still not ready to speak to him. He was not... not close with him anymore. Not like before. Their bond was cracked, maybe broken. But Tenna watched him all the same.

    The sticker wandered the shadows as always, expression unreadable, refusing to patch his mistakes. Stubborn. Irritable. Annoying as ever... When Tenna caught glimpses of him muttering, he thought of the human’s voice...

     'A shot at heaven...'

    Every time, Tenna’s tail sparked faintly, but he forced himself to keep moving. Because hosting didn’t stop.

    The Lightners were opening him more, giving him more work to do. He didn't mind. Not after he saw Asriel with his endless wonder. Toriel with her soft nods, Asgore with his gruff patience. They were looking more and more like a family. It warmed Tenna’s heart.

     And then new faces...

    He had seen Carol and Rudolph, but... that little fawn... that was with them was someone new. It seemed that Tenna had thought right. Carol was also pregnant. And she had birthed a beautiful girl. Dess. She was also full of life, smiling and sometimes more demanding than Asriel. Perhaps a little more adventurous and more prone to causing trouble, as one day she had thrown water at him.

    But Dess had already bounded over to Asriel, the two of them laughing like they had always been friends. Carol smiled, relaxed, when she was watching them, which made Tenna dumbfounded, but when he would slow down his performance, she would watch him with annoyed eyes. He would immediately continue his program, and she would smile again, watching the younglings with loving eyes.

    Whatever the name, she was always keeping him on his toes. Smart woman. Demanding but... she was the reason he had improved, unfortunately.

    And so he hosted. He told stories, danced clumsily but happily, let his claws trace pictures in the air while the stars chimed in with props, and Mike steadied the controls. The laughter and claps filled the studio again, brighter, fuller than before.

    And though Tenna’s glow dimmed by the end of each show, though exhaustion pulled heavily on his body, he smiled wider. This was worth it.

    Until the night it came back.

    Tenna sat in his office, slouched on the battered sofa he had dragged in weeks ago. It had started to look like it was his own office, having some life brought to it. Small props from his shows, a new paint over the walls, and now his board was full of ideas on how to continue his shows. His desk was full of papers, some written by him, others by Mike with Tenna’s help. It was feeling more professional, brighter.

     It was a full day today. The Holidays had come to visit, so the TV had been opened to accommodate all of them. Tenna didn't mind. He wanted to be watched. So he put the best performance he had to offer. Carol seemed happy, the kids were laughing, dancing, and his Lightners were smiling and laughing, watching him. It was a good day. He let out a soft sigh when he was shut off, finally giving him a breather. He was tired today, but he was happy. He waved goodbye to his friends as he let them know that the show for today was over, and he walked to his office.

    As time passed, more tiredness came out. His antennas drooped low, static humming faintly in the dark. He had just let himself drift…

     ...when it cut through.

 

     Riiiing.

 

    It couldn't be, could it? It was that damn phone!

     How? He had cut the cord... Tenna sighed, annoyed as he put his claws on his screen annoyed . It started to get louder the more Tenna ignored it. He thought that the phone would be picked up by Fifty, or at least it would stop, but in the end... nothing had happened.

 

     It continued...

 

    His screen snapped brighter, claws flexing as he finally stood up from his sofa. That damn phone. The ring was steady. Mocking. Tenna stood in the hallway for a long moment, claws twitching at his sides, tail flicking sparks. His screen dimmed into a thin line of static...

    He peeked out. Mike’s hum was far away, deep in some back corridor, while the stars glittered faintly within the walls, busy with their own patterns. And Fifty… nothing. No sense of him nearby.

    The ringing continued, patient. Waiting. He could have ignored it. He wanted to ignore it.

    But it wasn’t like the ringing ever stopped for him. It bled into his static, thrummed down his spine, clung to his antennas. That stupid phone had a way of finding him. Tenna exhaled, then stepped out, shoes clicking against the floor. His glow dulled as he moved down the corridor, past the silent sets, the quiet dressing rooms.

    Until finally, he stopped in front of the Z-rank room. Not his door. Not his room. Not his creation. It sat there like a scar in his world, taunting him with its presence.

    Tenna’s claws flexed. He hated that damn door. He should have left it closed. His screen flickered. He stood there a long time, staring at the door, the ringing just behind it.

    He flexed his claws, staring at the handle. For a long time, he just stood there, the ringing boring into his static like needles.

     And then he pushed the door open.

    The air inside was cold and heavy as always. The walls stretched too far, still playing static. More shadows started to pool in places. He hated this place. Hated how it pressed against him, as though it wanted him smaller, dimmer, until he wasn’t there at all.

    The ringing guided him forward, pulling at him as always. At the center of the room, it waited. Someone, Fifty, it had to be Fifty, had placed it on a wooden stool. The kind that didn’t belong here, didn’t belong anywhere in his sets. Tenna knew the wood’s look, though... graveyard wood. Fifty must have dragged it in, planted it like a throne for the damn thing. The phone itself was worse than before, which he was gla d. Its receiver gleamed faintly, yet ringing as though connected to something he couldn’t see.

 

     Riiiing.

 

     Riiiing.

 

    Tenna stopped in front of it. His tail sparked, his static humming sharp against the silence.

     He stared.

    For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t reach. Just glared at the phone, the sound echoing through his screen, the weight of it pressing against him like it knew he had come. The ringing drilled into him. Tenna finally reached out, claws curling around the receiver.

 

    Click.

 

    Silence.

 

     Just dead air.

 

    Tenna’s antennas twitched. His claws dug deeper into the plastic. “… That’s it? All this noise for nothing?”

    He shook the receiver once, listening, but there was no voice. No whisper. No curse. Just emptiness. It almost felt like a mockery.

    "...or you are waiting for someone else?"

    The phone didn't answer. Tenna knew the answer, knew that the phone, the darkness was playing with him. It wanted him here for a reason, not just to mock him. It had a reason...

 

     It must have one...

 

 

     ...

 

 

    A sharp spark leapt from his tail, and in a surge of frustration, Tenna squeezed down.

 

     CRACK.

 

    The receiver split under his claws, plastic biting into his hand, static hissing into the silence. For a second, he thought it might stop, that maybe breaking it would cut the thread, sever the hold.

    But he knew better. His glow dimmed. No matter how many pieces he shattered, the darkness wasn’t in the phone. It was somewhere deeper. Already tangled in Fifty.

    Tenna let the ruined receiver drop back onto the stool. His claws flexed once, trembling, before he pulled them away.

     “…Damn you.”

    He turned on his heel, tail sparking sharply against the floor, and stormed out. The Z-rank door closed behind him with a heavy slam, his glow disappearing from the room.

     For a moment, all was still.

    Then, from the splintered plastic on the stool, a faint static hiss escaped.

And in the hush, a whisper could be heard.

 

     “…deal… ready…”

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    This was annoying. Too annoying.

     If Tenna could have ripped his antennas out of his head and snapped them in half, he would have. His tail sparked violently behind him, arcs of electricity lashing against the walls of the alley, frying neon signs until their light flickered dead. He hunched forward, breathing static through clenched teeth, trying to force it down because if anyone saw him like this, if the Darkners noticed what he really was…

    His screen nearly flared bright. He slammed a claw against it, hissing. Not now. Not here.

    He had stood in one of the alleyways Cyber City could offer him. He just needed a moment or two to calm down... He hated everything! He hated the coat wrapped around him, heavy and suffocating. He hated his tail, lashing wildly. He hated his urges.

    But most of all, he hated the truth...

 

     He had lost!

 

     He had lost in a fight! No, just any other fight! A fight with another TV lower in damn rank! He was caught by surprise as he was overseeing his territory. It wasn't his fault, he told himself, he was thinking over that damn phone. He hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t been focused. Not only had that TV caught him off guard, it had managed to cause pain as well. It had managed to hurt him!

     That damn TV. It was faster than him, and it could create waves, something that Tenna couldn't. He remembered the blow, hard enough to send him crashing into the snow, the white cold burning like his first days in this world. It had overpowered him, pressed him down, made him feel small.

    But... because of his antennas, his logic, his quick thinking ... and worst... his rank, was what had saved him. When it closed in for the kill, Tenna’s colors burst across his screen, hypnotic. Tenna knew how it felt, how much it took control, and he hated using it, but now it was his only option...

    The lesser TV froze. His voice rose, firm and commanding, and the creature bowed, annoyed but listening to his command. Because even if it had won… a higher rank could order. And a lower rank could only obey. It had waves but not a signal...

    It left. Just like that. His territory was safe. The fight was over.

 

    But Tenna’s screen had turned dark.

 

     It hadn’t felt like a victory.

 

    His body screamed with pain, bruises ringing across his frame, sparks still getting out of his tail. He slid down the alley wall until his claws wrapped around his knees, dragging them close. The static around him quieted to a low hum.

    He was furious. Not at the other TV, not even at the fight. Furious at himself. At the weakness. At his own carelessness. Because in that moment... if he hadn’t forced the other down, if his antennas hadn’t worked... he could have lost everything.

    His world. His friends. His life.

    That thought gnawed at him more than the pain. The fight had left him sore, but his own mind wouldn’t stop chewing at the hollow victory until it left nothing but bitterness in his chest.

    So he sat there, breathing, his screen dim and silent. He didn’t let himself heal, not yet. He wanted the pain. He wanted the reminder burned into him. Never again.

    Minutes passed. His tail finally dulled, the sparks easing into nothing. He pushed himself up, shoulders heavy, coat dragging. He didn't want to face the others, he didn't want the others to see him in this state. They wouldn't care as they would try to heal him, protect him, but right now, Tenna, even though his antennas buzzed at him, he didn't want to face any of that. He was... embarrassed, his damn urges telling him that he was done. His feral side disapproving, telling him he had lost...

 

 

     A hypocrite...

 

 

 

     Sigh...

 

 

    Tenna finally left the alley and continued his journey. He wanted to dull the pain with something at least. Some drinks were a good idea. He didn't want to go to his bar since the sticker started to appear more and more in there, and now Tenna was not in a good position to face him.

    Tenna’s claws dug into his coat as he walked, head lowered. He didn’t even know what bar he was heading to, just that any would do. Somewhere dark, loud enough to drown the static in his chest, strong enough to burn away his loss.

    The city glowed in front of him, the neon signs shifting like restless veins. Addisons drifted past him, pitching their neon wares, laughing in their usual bright chatter. He paused once, leaning against a railing, just watching them. Their rhythm. Their work. All so effortless. All so… normal.

 

     Then he heard it.

 

     “Hypocrite.”

 

 

    His tail flared at once, sparks snapping across the pavement. His head jerked up, scanning, claws tense. That word burned in him deeper than any wound. But then the voice pressed closer, familiar, steady.

     “You didn’t do what I asked you to!” Mike said.

    Tenna’s jaw tightened, his body tense as he shoved himself away from the crowd, stalking into quieter streets. He growled, irritation rolling under it, showing that he wasn't in the mood for speaking, but Mike seemed to be.

    Mike followed anyway, his signal pressing gently through the static around him. “Not only you didn't follow my instructions when I asked you to tell me when you were leaving TV world, strike one, but also you didn't tell me where you were heading, strike two! Plus... you think I don’t feel it? The way you’re sparking, the way you’re dragging yourself like you’ve been chewed out? I know, Tenna. You’re hurt.”

    Tenna’s claws flexed. “I don’t need you hovering waves at me.”

     Silence stretched, heavy and patient. Then Mike said quietly. “…What happened?”

    The words stuck in Tenna’s throat. His antennas buzzed hard, trying to stop him, but the weight inside was too much. He exhaled static, slumping against a cold wall away from the many eyes, and finally let it spill.

    The fight. The blow. The way the snow had stung, the way the other TV had hurt him. The shame of using his colors, forcing rank over strength, knowing it wasn’t real victory. The bile of weakness burning him alive. The way his urges hissed that he was done. A hypocrite, nothing more.

    He spoke until the words bled out of him, until only static lingered in the air between them. His tail was swaying around him, causing sparks to get out as the cords had been tangled from his embarrassment. His usual growls were now louder than his static as his annoyance was stronger than his screen.

    Mike didn’t interrupt. He just listened, the hum of his wave steady and grounded. When Tenna finally went quiet, Mike gave a slow nod, voice calm but firm.

    “...ok… I get it.” His signal pulsed faintly, gentle against Tenna’s.

    Tenna nodded as his static started to calm down after his outburst. He didn't like how much he was complaining, but he needed to vent. He was glad that Mike had found him. He started to feel somewhat better.

    “But that doesn’t mean I let it sit. You know I have a responsibility over you. Even if your feral side is telling you no, I will do what I must to protect you. Even if it means hurting your honor. Whether you like it or not.”

      He guessed he was wrong...

    Tenna’s screen flickered faintly, irritated. “…Don’t.”

    “I’m going to heal you.”

    “You are not.”

     “Yes, I am.”

     “No, you are not.”

    Mike’s tone sharpened with mock authority. “You can bark and spark all you want, but I can override you if I have to.”

    Tenna’s claws curled into his knees. “You try, and I’ll fry your signal where you stand.”

     “Oh, please!” Mike huffed. “You can barely fry a neon sign right now, mister Tennaville.”

    Tenna’s antennas twitched, static sputtering. “…Say that again.”

    “I will. You are pathetic right now. You need patching.”

    Tenna hissed, half rising from the wall. “I don’t need patching! I chose to keep this pain, you empty frequency!”

    Mike’s wave pulsed brighter, amused despite himself. “And I chose to make sure you are not dragging yourself into a grave. We all make choices, Tenna.”

    "Come closer and I will bite you!"

    "With what fangs? You don’t have any!"

    "I will grow some!"

    "Then do it!"

    "Right now?"

     "Right now!"

     Tenna hissed, annoyed. His claws dug against the wall as his tail finally slipped free out of his coat, whipping around, trying to uncurl itself. With a crack, it lashed forward, trying to snag Mike’s signal even though he could never touch it physically. His screen flared violently white, jagged lines pulsing across it like fangs, mocking the promise of teeth.

    Mike only chuckled, unshaken. His voice rippled with humor. “There it is! The big scary Tenna, baring his ghost fangs at me.”

    “Shut up!” Tenna snarled, sparks biting the air. "You are annoying as fuck today!"

    Mike gasped at that. "Ah! A superstar shouldn't speak like that! Language!"

    "I don't care... I will..." Tenna growled deeper, tail snapping, screen flashing again, when another voice cut through.

     “...Excuse me?”

    Tenna froze. The static inside him cut off in a sharp choke, his screen going dim in panic. He jerked around to see a White Addison standing a few paces away, their glowing frame casting a soft light over the grimy street. Their painted smile didn’t waver, but the tilt of their head was sharper than their usual salesman ease.

    “Are you… alright?” The Addison asked carefully.

    Mike’s presence flickered still. "A white Addison? Shouldn’t they be in the kid-friendly streets? What are they doing to the bar section?"

    Frankly, Tenna didn't care in the moment, since if the Addison understood what he was, they would have a problem! Tenna’s screen twitched faintly as he snapped his head away, pulling the coat tighter around himself.

    “I’m fine.” His voice rasped, static scraping underneath. “Nothing to worry about.”

     "Amazing performance!" Mike mocked Tenna since he knew that the Addison couldn't hear him. "You are a host! Act better!"

    If Tenna could hit him, he would. The Addison didn’t move. Their bright eyes narrowed as if reading something deeper, and Tenna cursed under his breath when his screen glitched, failing to dim properly on the first try. The flicker sent a jolt of pain through his head, and he hunched involuntarily.

     The Addison saw it.

    "Damn it. " Mike said, and Tenna couldn't agree more.

     “You’re hurt.” They said softly, stepping closer. Their pitch shifted, almost rehearsed but tinged with concern. “We have herbs, bright, fresh, restorative! Discounts today, for customers in need.”

     It wasn’t sales. Not really. It was help, wrapped in the only language an Addison knew how to speak. Tenna thought sometimes if they were cursed when they wanted to speak but it seemed they were all starting to sell things when they had it in their stock. Meaning Tenna was in the worse or better position ever since that Addison had healing items in their stock. Lucky him.

    Tenna’s tail sparked violently behind him at the offer. He shook his head, telling the Addison that he was ok as his claws shot to his face, dragging down as he groaned into his palm. And then he froze...

     His tail!

    It was out in the open! He tried to fold the tail back under the coat, but it was too late... he saw the Addison’s gaze lock onto it. Clearer now, out in the open.

    Mike’s signal pulsed in shock. “Idiot. Real smooth. Tail-first introduction, classic Tennaville.”

    Tenna couldn't agree more. He was an idiot! Tenna was ready to run, to start the chase once again as the Addison would call the alarm, but... none came. The glow had dimmed in the Addison's face, but it had returned back more brighter than ever.

     “...Wait.” Their eyes widened, recognition dawning. “You’re...”

    Tenna was ready to run, to hear the insult coming out. That he was a TV, a monster... but...

    The White Addison’s glow brightened, their grin widening with excitement. “I knew it! I could recognize that tail anywhere!”

    Tenna blinked, jerking his gaze over his shoulder, then back at the Addison, conflicted. “… What. ”

    “You’re Tenna, right?” They asked, practically bouncing in place. “The upcoming superstar!”

    Tenna’s static hiccuped. “Upcoming… what?”

    Mike's waves warmed. "Superstar?"

    “Oh wow! It is you!” The Addison clapped their hands together. “You’re still fresh and small since you mostly do kids’ programs, but I know you’re gonna make it big! I have been keeping an eye on the screens, they are already showing your face around!”

    Tenna’s jaw fell slightly, screen glitching pale as he shook his head. “Whoa, whoa, wait. How do you even know I am a host?”

    The Addison’s smile only grew brighter as they beckoned him to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you!”

    Confused at what had just happend , Tenna followed as the Addison darted ahead, leading him down a neon-lit street. Mike closely more interested than ever. They stopped beneath a cluster of glowing banners, most splashed with the loud colors of other programs. But there, tucked among the rest, was a small one.

    Tenna froze.

     It was him. His static-colored grin flashed bright across the banner, with his catchphrase written bold beneath it. His outfit, the white shirt and tail coat that shone with the rainbow hues the stars had planned on them, and he was wearing his purple hat. His first stage outfit. His first time on the stage and now his first time in a banner. Mike’s waves were stronger, more warmer than ever and Tenna could feel him being excited.

     "Tenna... that's you! You have a banner!" He said in quiet but with happy sobs.

    The Addison nearly vibrated with glee, pointing eagerly. “See? Right there! A new host on the rise! I felt it the moment that banner popped up, it tugged me straight to you! A new host to follow!”

    Tenna’s screen blinked rapidly, his claws curling against his coat. His urges had quieted. His feral side was silenced. This... w as beyond what he was as a TV. He was there as himself. Not a monster. Not a feral TV. Not something to fear.

     A host.

    Something he asked to be.

    He smiled as he remembered what the human had said. He had managed to show everyone what he was. He had managed to change what he was viewed as. He was a host now. Not just a TV.

     He turned toward the Addison, eyes softening in a way they hadn’t in a long time. “…You saw that banner?”

    “Of course!” The Addison beamed. “White Addisons aren’t the best dealers, we are more like pop-ups! But when a deal shows itself, we can feel it. And that banner? It was practically glowing at me! Your energy was all over it.”

    Tenna’s tail gave a faint spark, almost shyly, curling closer around his legs. His chest buzzed with something warm, confusing, but… good.

    Mike snorted beside him. “Attention seeking, perhaps. A TV that wants to be seen. Fitting really."

    Tenna nearly elbowed at the signal but held back as the Addison shuffled closer, eyes bright. “C-can I… can I have your autograph?”

    Tenna blinked. “My… what?”

    Mike sighed but his waves showed how excited he was. “They want you to write your name for them. On something. It’s a fan thing. Just do it!”

     Fan thing?

    Tenna tilted his head, then slowly nodded, claws taking the little card the Addison shakily offered. His claw traced across the surface, his name clumsy but sharp on the paper. When he handed it back, the Addison stared at it like it was gold, then smiled, a wide, unguarded, earnest smile.

    Tenna’s static hitched. He didn’t know that smile. He had never received that kind of smile before. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t forced respect. It wasn't the usual smile he got from his Lightners, from Asriel, or even Carol.

    It was a fan’s smile. He understood it now.

     For him...

    He stood there for a long moment, screen dimming slightly as he stared at the Addison, realizing he would treasure this moment forever. This exact second, where he wasn’t Tenna the feral, Tenna the hypocrite, Tenna the mistake. He was just… Tenna, the host. Someone worth watching.

    The Addison eagerly started rattling off about his shows, about their favorite part, about how they watched every new program he hosted. Tenna listened in silence at first, then more openly, genuinely impressed. His Lightners weren’t the only ones watching. Darkners were, too.

    For the first time that night, Tenna felt like a true superstar.

 

 

 

        -ooo-

 

 

 

    Days seemed to pass faster.

    Tenna's confidence had increased now as he remembered that small white Addison. His shows started to have a spark that wasn't there. After all, now he knew that he was not only being watched by his Lightners but also by other darkners from other worlds. It was a wonderful feeling as he never imagined that he would be seen as something other than a feral TV.

     He had shown them what he got.

    His programs started to spark as his stars started to understand what they needed to do, and Mike was faster at his commands, knowing now how to control his powers. The stage had changed, it was lively, always being used, starting new shows, broadcasting others, and Tenna was happy that he was in the center of it.

    He had built this stage to shine. Like he did at this moment.

    He would sometimes go back to Cyber City and look around the banners, trying to find if he was there. The big ones, the more watchable ones, were not holding him, but the small ones did. It was a start. After all, he was recognized by one of them. Sometimes his face, his catchphrase would appear in them. And others, it would be him with his getup. The tailcoat that shone with the rainbow sparks the stars had tailored in. He would wear his usual purple hat in them, and his screen would show his smile, inviting everyone to his shows.

    Mike had seen it and even though he was happy with the getup, he started thinking of creating a new one, one that would catch the other darkner's attention since Tenna was still dressed as an old host. They needed to put some color in his outfit. But Tenna was happy with it. At least for now.

    When it was Asriel, he would be more gentle in his words, showing more color and songs, while it was Toriel or Asgore, he would be more to the point, and he would crack jokes more often. They seemed to like his humor, so Tenna continued. Sometimes he would hear Mike tell him from his intercom that he felt other eyes watching him, and Tenna seemed to hesitate on his deliveries. He was a host, yes, but not used to being watched by others than his Lightners.

    Mike had told him that he just needed to act as he would. Slowly, he would understand how to speak to a wider audience, and Tenna started daydreaming about what it would be like. A dream, a nightmare, he didn't know. He just knew he was starting to have influence on the other worlds, and not only his.

    Mike started to show how to handle his papers in his office and started to brainstorm ideas on how to continue his business. Tenna would listen, but as Mike had said... it would be difficult. Sure, he had Mike and his stars helping him, but... it seemed it was too much for Tenna to handle on his own. He struggled sometimes to create props or fix the lights on his own. The curtains were crooked, and he had noticed that the microphone he had was starting to break under his claws. Huge problem.

     He needed help.

    As he sometimes would broadcast his shows on his stage, he would stay and watch them in his seats. They were organized, not made from scratch, and had a budget. That's when he understood what he needed. He needed his helpers. Backstage crew. A crew.

     His darkners...

    He would continue overseeing his territory, fighting when needed if he saw another TV, but he would mostly search. For anything. Not only stuff to add to his studio, but also any sign of life. Any darkners. How could it be that he couldn't have any? Time flew, and he hadn't seen any darkner for his world. The other worlds, as he would visit them, had started to increase in size, and yet he didn't have any. Why was that the reason?

    Mike didn't know either, and his stars had told him to recruit any he saw. But Tenna knew the other darkners from the other worlds would get petrified if they stayed long. They needed to be manifested in his world, but that's another thing Tenna hadn't thought of. How would he know that they were his darkners?

    He had asked the human who had smiled at him. They told him that he would know if they were his own. They would fit right in his world, which Tenna didn't know how that would happen. Either way, the human had also thought it was weird that Tenna’s world didn't have any darkners, which made Tenna more anxious...

     Why didn't he have any?

    The human had changed the conversation and had asked him about the sticker on his world and Tenna had grimaced.

    He didn't want to remember that he had him. He had started to get annoying again, as he was less and less at the Z-rank room, which surprised Tenna. Sometimes he was there for days, and other days he wasn’t. He was getting weirder and weirder every day. The phone still rang sometimes, but its sharp tone echoed through emptier air. The wooden stall and cordless receiver sat in the middle like a forgotten scar.

    He had opened the door and saw it there untouched. The receiver was not on it like Tenna had left it when he had left it that day. It was like Fifty hadn’t seen it. Which made Tenna more anxious over the sticker. He knew that he was corrupted, but surely he would have seen the phone not working.... then why did it ring if the receiver was not in the handle...

     ....

    Tenna ignored it more and more, choosing instead to focus on his shows, his fans, his world. He didn't like that room or anything it was in it but he couldn't do anything to get rid of it. Fifty would feel when Tenna started to get moody with the door, and he would start accusing him over thinking about destroying it. It was like he knew, and Tenna could see the sign of that damn room shining when Fifty was getting emotional or mad towards him. Like it was mocking him. This made Fifty angrier, and thus a circle.

     What could he do?

    The dark coming from it was close to the dark Tenna had faced when he was fighting the knight and that entity... sometimes he wondered if they were responsible for it, and as he would try to sense them in the room, Fifty would appear. Like he knew what he was about to do. Other times, he thought of taking Fifty out of his studio, out towards the fountain or any other world, but his antennas would shock him hard, telling him it was a bad idea.

     Tenna was in a loss...

    The human had nodded at what Tenna had said and told him that whatever had grabbed Fifty was getting stronger. The only thing he could do was to snap the invincible strings it had on Fifty, which seemed to be what Tenna was doing. He was going nowhere... so the only option for him was to... kill him.

    That had shocked Tenna... he couldn't do it.

    He would never have thought of doing it. He hadn't done it with the other TVs coming to his world, his enemies.... how would he do it to his friend...

    'It is a matter of choice and time...' The human had told him, and Tenna didn't like that answer.

    Either way, the human had started to show him tricks on how to keep his fountain stable and how to control it. Tenna didn't know he could do that. The human would refuse to come to his world, telling him that he couldn't enter it that easily, so they would let him practice the tricks on their fountain. The fountain of Cyber City was different than his. It was pixelated, more fluent, and full of love. It was warmer, and as Tenna tried to expand it as the human had instructed, he felt it talk to him. Smiling, cheering him. It was more lively than his, as it was more elegant and calmer.

     He liked his more. The human had laughed at that but continued teaching him the way of a protector. How to fight better, how to control his powers and better they had taught him how to use his stars outside his world. A small dip in his fountain, and they could come with him at least for one trip. Mike was ecstatic when he saw that and had advised Tenna to at least take one with him for safekeeping. The stars were happy to help him as well.

    The human continued teaching him things beyond the walls of the dark, over the light world. Tenna would listen for hours until finally his blinking light would warn him to leave. The human seemed to be happy to talk to someone, and so was Tenna. But Tenna slowly saw that his influence had also helped the human in a way since they started to get more open on the streets. It seemed that he was starting to get viewed with a better light, and that made the human thankful for Tenna’s help.

    The darkners started to see the TVs with another light with Tenna's help, and thus, more creatures got out of the dark, not afraid of judgment. The darkners were still hesitant, but slowly and steadily, everyone started to appear. And Tenna hoped for him one day to leave his world without being seen as a feral TV ever again.

     And that hope would soon blossom.

   

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 

     Life continued.

    Tenna started to get more confident with his performance. He would host more programs, games, and shows. There were still some he couldn't do, so he would let his stage play them, giving a breather.

    Asriel grew steadily, and Tenna couldn't be prouder than before. He was getting stronger, more talkative. Dess seemed to do the same when he saw her. They were having fun watching him, and Tenna would chuckle when he would see them hit each other in the head, testing their new horns. It was like watching a documentary channel as he saw them teasing each other, falling, and then crying when they got hurt. Toriel would laugh at them, calming them down, while Carol was harsher, just watching them with her stern glare. Both seemed to work, though as the kids would stop crying and play again.

    Every time Asriel wobbled forward on unsure legs, or Dess shouted in triumph over something silly, Tenna felt his screen glow just a little warmer. By now, Asriel was toddling with confidence, words bubbling from his little mouth in clumsy bursts. Three years old, already talking back… Tenna thought with pride, even if half the words were mispronounced catchphrases from his shows.

     It felt like family, like home.

    And yet, every time Tenna slipped out of the stage and combwalked around the edges of his world, the silence always met him the same way. No new darkners. No helpers. Just empty corridors and crooked props he patched together with his own claws. Even with the stars and Mike at his side, he felt the silence press heavier with each day.

    Still, the ranks door shone again, each time he fought or protected. More and more doors started to open for Tenna, and he could finally see what was inside them. Sometimes other rooms were full of things he would need later on, or a small room with treasure inside. In one of the most closer ones that had opened, M-Rank, was a small vending machine. Mike had been excited as he had understood what it was. His own dark dollars, which Tenna didn't understand what that meant. He had used dark dollars before, and it didn't make sense why he would be the only one who had different currency. But he did. Points...

    Tenna didn't understand the point of it, why should he change the currency, but Mike had told him to wait and see. Tenna wondered what that meant. Still, the vending machine had accepted his dark dollars, changing the currency to points, and from it a small capsule got out... gloves. White silk gloves that were fitting him just nicely.

    Tenna had looked at them, confused as to why he was given that, but as he tried to use the vending machine, it gave him nothing back. He would examine the gloves as he was wearing them. They were strong as they could withstand his claws, and as he noticed later, they were protecting his microphone from getting destroyed. He would take them out after each show as he still liked flexing his claws without them. Still, they were a noticeable change in his outfit, since not only were they fitting in it, but they also made him more professional. They were a small reward as he later understood.

    He had advanced ranks, and that meant he would be rewarded for his work. Each one was helping him improve the TV world. Gloves to make him look professional, awards that he would give his contestants in later shows, and rooms to spend time relaxing after a long day in the studio. Small noticeable rewards. Tenna started to get more motivated as he started to feel the mystery under each door, calling to him. He would open them and see what they would offer later on...

    Cyber City was alive now in a way it hadn’t been before. Darkners walked with fewer masks, fewer disguises, the hesitation still there but thinner than before. And at the center of it, the human who had once hidden in a hood and in shadows was now walking openly, greeted, recognized, not feared. Every time Tenna saw them smiling in the crowd, he wondered if this was what they both had been fighting for.

     It made him hopeful.

    He was still careful, still wearing his coat, as he wasn't taking any chances. He had learned his lesson. The human had laughed at him, telling him to ease up. He started to appear in more banners and commercials, his influence strong. It was, after all, because of Tenna that the human could walk around without carrying. Tenna didn't want to play with his luck, though.

    More Addisons had also appeared. The internet seemed to get wider and that meant those little guys started to get annoying, too clingy. Too many to avoid now.   Pink, yellow, orange, blue, white. Each one has its own deals. Pink on appearance, yellow on general stuff, orange on accountant , blue on food. Whites were still the pop-ups of the group, advertising their deals. Even so, they were the quietest ones of them all, kid-friendly as well. Still, they seemed to have increased, which meant that either the way of Addisons had changed or something deeper had happened.

    Either way, Tenna had started to like the whites more since they seemed to be gentler to him, and most had managed to recognize him. Especially the first one, he had managed to meet again after a while. Still eager, still chipper, always waving when they spotted him in the alleys or the corners where Tenna hid. They carried their signed card like a treasure, still glowing with that smile Tenna never forgot.

    One day, as Tenna lingered in the neon shadows, the Addison came bouncing over again.

    “You know, Mr Tenna… you are really starting to boom out here. Everyone’s talking about your shows. You ever thought of going to a press here in town?”

    Tenna froze, tilting his head, static buzzing from his antennas. “…A press?”

The Addison smile grew as he shook his head. Or not! Something bigger! Ever thought about giving an interview? A feature spot. Big stage. Cameras. Spotlight on you. Celebrities do it all the time.”

    Tenna froze mid-glance, static bursting across his screen. A celebrity?

     “…Me? But… who would even want to see me?”

    The Addison only laughed, waving a hand. “You would be surprised. It will come to you eventually, you will see.”

    A wink. A grin. And then, like always, they slipped away into the crowd before Tenna could reply.

    The thought haunted him. An interview. To be seen not through crafted shows or playful scripts, but as himself. His claws twitched at the idea. Would they laugh? Would they call him feral again? Or… would they listen?

    Days passed. The shows went on. Tenna tried to bury it.

     Until...

    A letter appeared in his world. A letter with his name on it. Delivered right to his world, dropped like it had been waiting there forever. A letter addressed to him. Tenna had never gotten mail before. Not once.

    Tenna stared at it for long minutes before daring to open it. Inside, printed clean and official, was an invitation. Cyber City wanted him. A guest feature. An interview.

    The static on his screen rippled. He didn’t even know he could get mail. He didn’t even know who sent it. How did they even know his name, his banner, his shows? His screen dimmed with fear. If he went… if they truly looked at him with that disgust like before... saw what he was…

    Behind him, the stars cheered, Mike’s voice buzzing proud as his waves grew ecstatic.

    “This is wonderful! That's what you were looking for, Tenna! That’s you breaking through. That’s history. They’re calling you out into the world. You are a celebrity! A true host!”

    The stars chattered about costumes, questions he might be asked, and props they could send with him. Mike was already pacing with ideas on how to frame it, how to turn it into a breakthrough.

     But Tenna didn’t join them.

    He sat with the letter, claws tight, afraid to breathe. His antennas buzzed restlessly. His screen flickered between a faint smile and blank static. He wanted it, part of him ached for it, but another part hissed that if he stepped too far into that light, everything could shatter. His antennas twitched with nerves now. Why would they want him? Was this a trap? Or was it truly recognition?

    Tenna lay across the sofa, claws resting on his chest, the letter still pressed in his grip. The ceiling above him hummed faintly with the electric buzz of his world, steady and quiet after a long day of hosting... unlike the chaos in his head.

    The office was quiet, almost too quiet. Every edge of it with the many shelves he had full of his shows, every neatly stacked file he had managed to make, every word on the board across his office... even every faint reflection off the glass table in front of him looked like it belonged to someone… more certain. Someone who already knew what to do. Not him.

    He turned his head. The letter sat where he had placed it on the table, crisp and official, carrying more weight than its paper could ever hold. His antennas twitched, drawn to it, recoiling from it, over and over.

    Interview. Cyber City. Guest feature.

     So irritating...

    The words stamped in his mind like a burn. He pictured faces staring back at him, maybe cheering, maybe laughing... maybe booing him, yelling at him. Every imagined crowd was different. One side smiling like the Addison , the other snarling, calling him a monster.

    The static rose in his screen until he squeezed his claws against the fabric of the sofa.

    For a moment, he let his screen dim. A creeping pull tugged at the edges of his thoughts, a heavy fog. His chest tightened. If he gave in, if he let it draw him down, he wouldn’t have to decide. No interview. No stage. No risk. Just… silence.

 

 

     ...riiing...

 

 

    The ring echoed again, faint, hollow, ringing through the office.

    His screen lit up sharply, shoving the darkness back. His claws twitched, flexing, gripping the edge of the sofa as if to anchor himself.

    Determination pulsed inside him. Not enough to decide, but enough to keep him breathing, enough to hold him upright away from the darkness that was about to swallow him. He stared at the letter again, chest rising and falling with uneven, static breaths.

    He imagined crumpling it. Throwing it away. He imagined accepting it. Standing on a stage, in front of thousands. Both images twisted his gut. Neither gave peace.

    Slowly, Tenna leaned back, sinking deeper into the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling again. The letter remained untouched on the table, a presence he couldn’t ignore, a decision he couldn’t yet make but had time to decide.

    The silence returned, heavy, pressing. But this time, his screen stayed lit.

 

        

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     "So... you are coming here often." The cat would play with the words as it was cleaning the glasses behind the counter.

    Tenna would face it, after a while watching him with a raised brow. The lamp-lit shop smelled faintly of dust and old cloth, even though it was a new shop, it felt like it belonged here for a long time. The faint jingling of trinkets and the scratching of a cloth over glass were the only sounds filling the quiet.

    Tenna sat hunched on the small stool in front of the counter, coat pulled tight, the cup in his claws. The drink shimmered faintly with faint starlight. For a while, he just stared back, static buzzing faintly in the silence. Finally, his voice crackled out, low and cautious.

    “…And why are you asking?”

    The cat’s mismatched eyes gleamed with amusement as they set the glass down, claws tapping gently on the counter.

    “Because I see you. More and more. Here, in this quiet little corner of the Kingdom… and not out there, closer to the castle, where the darkners gather.”

    Tenna’s antennas twitched faintly. He lowered his drink just enough to glance at it, reflection rippling across his screen. His voice was softer this time, almost too calm, calmer than even he expected.

    “…It’s quiet here. I enjoy the silence. Close enough, but… not full of darkners.”

    A low laugh, stitched and weary, rolled from the cat’s throat. “Ahh… I see, I see. You enjoy the quiet, yes. But… it isn’t the quiet you are really drinking in, is it? It is the lack of eyes. The lack of… fans.”

    The words hit sharper than he wanted them to. His claws tightened on the cup, screen flickering faint static before dimming again. He set the drink down carefully. His voice slipped out, calm, almost too calm again, unnerving even to himself.

    “…Why do you know that much? This shop is new here… new in this Kingdom. How could you know what I am?”

    The cat's stitched smile never wavered. They leaned closer, resting their chin against one paw, eyes narrowing with something older than the room around them.

    “New shop, yes. New trinkets, yes. But not new to the Dark World. I was left here long ago, stitched into its seams.” Their tail flicked lazily. “I know more than most think. Enough to see the way your tail curls under that coat of yours, Mister Tenna… ready to strike if the mood shifts.”

    Tenna’s screen flared, sharp static streaking the glass face. His tail twitched beneath the coat, and in one smooth lash it snapped outward, coiling tight around the cat’s throat. Not strangling. Just there. Present. Showing dominance.

    The cat didn’t flinch. They chuckled instead, soft and dry, as if they enjoyed it. Their claws set the glass back on the counter gently, as though nothing at all had changed.

    “Wouldn’t it be quite the story… if Mister Tenna, the rising star, the celebrated host, struck down a harmless shopkeeper? Wouldn’t that change how the Dark World views you?”

    For a long moment, Tenna said nothing. The faint hum of his screen filled the silence. Then, slowly, his tail eased back, slipping under the folds of his coat again. His claws found the cup, lifting it, taking another long drink as though nothing had happened.

    His voice buzzed low, controlled.

    “…How do you know what I am? I’ve been hiding… hiding well.”

    The cat only smiled, stitched and patient, their gaze never leaving him. “Ahh… hiding, yes. Very well indeed. But some things can only be hidden from eyes that choose not to look. Mine… have been watching for a very long time.”

    The drink in Tenna’s claws trembled faintly. He finally pulled down his coat, letting his screen out of the hood, and he switched his screen on. The cat smiled at him as they seemed to wait for Tenna to adjust as they rested their head on their hands. Their tail wagged behind them to humor Tenna to show them that they also had one. Tenna didn't comment as after he straightened his antennas back to calm them, he nodded at the cat.

    “Allow me… to introduce myself properly. Seam.”

    Tenna’s antennas twitched at the name. He hesitated only a moment before extending one clawed hand across the counter. The cat’s paw met his in a firm, unhurried shake. Seam’s voice purred back into the silence.

    “Odd, isn’t it? An attention-seeking creature such as yourself, Mister Tenna, sitting here in my little shop rather than basking in the glow of the castle or Cyber City. The world clamors for stars… yet here you are, hiding in shadows.”

    Tenna’s screen dimmed faintly. The letter burned in his memory, crisp, folded, waiting on his desk back in his office. His claws curled tighter around the cup. For a flicker of a moment, he wanted to tell Seam the truth. That the words printed inside that envelope scared him more than any enemy he had faced.

     “…Sometimes I want a breather.” He finally said.

    For the first time, Seam’s eyes actually widened a fraction. He tilted his head, stitched grin sharpening.

    “A breather. From the eyes. From the voices. Now that… is a shock. I have not seen a TV try to hide before.”

    Tenna’s static hissed faintly. His antennas angled down, narrowing at the cat.

     “…What does that mean?”

    Seam’s paw tapped the counter idly. His mismatched eyes gleamed as though he had been waiting for the question.

    “Perhaps you do not wish to meet your fans. Or rather…” His stitched mouth curved higher. “…perhaps you fear how they would react to you when you finally accept that interview.”

    “…And how would you know about that?” Tenna's voice was sharp, cut with static annoyance.

    The cat only chuckled, amused by Tenna’s temper.

     “Ahhh… I may not see television often, that is true. After all, not many can afford it in here. But I see enough to know. The Cyber City darkners speak of little else. They are ecstatic, waiting for your answer. You are the topic of their chatter. The hidden star. The feral who grew into a host. A story they want to see finished.”

    Tenna froze, his screen dimming to black static. He didn’t believe it. Couldn’t. Seam’s words rang too sure, too knowing. Too hopeful...

    “…You know more than you should.” Tenna muttered, distrustful.

    Seam nodded. “Indeed. I have gone through worlds most darkners cannot imagine. Learned to see light, to see dark. To feel it, to recognize its weight. Each world has its laws. Its pulse. And I… learned them all.”

    His stitched smile narrowed. “With one exception. Yours.”

    Tenna’s antennas stiffened, static prickling at the edges of his frame. Seam’s paw tilted the glass idly, but his voice dropped quieter, steadier.

    “Only TVs exist there. Ferals, all of them. I could never step inside. And yet…” His eyes flicked to Tenna’s claws, then his screen. “…the one I see before me now is dull compared to them. Tame.”

    A trap...

    “…You want me to bite. But I won’t.”

    The shop went quiet again, the air thick between them, two predators gauging the other. Seam’s stitched smile lingered, his tail flicking lazily behind him.

    "Caught red-handed. You are sharp..."

    "Maybe... maybe not." Tenna simply sighed as he played with the rim of his glass.

    "You are special indeed. I can feel your powers. Steady but unmoving. Small but powerful."

     "You humor me."

    "I would hope I did, mister Tenna."

    Tenna would look at the cat again, examining him. "What are you after then?"

    "Simply an answer." The cat’s ears went back as it was defending itself. "I can feel you, your power, and yet... the TV world seems to be nonexistent to my eyes."

    Tenna’s tail stopped moving as the aura of the shop had changed. "Nonexistent."

    "I can feel the fountain, I can feel you, but... not the world. Weird, is it not?"

    Tenna didn't know what to say since he didn't understand what the cat was going t o. Seam continued.

    “There’s something in your world, isn’t there? Something you do not speak of. Something that stops creation... something that rings when it should not ring.”

    Tenna froze.

     “Ahh. I see I’ve struck the right cord. A phone, yes? A stall. A scar in the middle of your world. Something that should not be, yet is.”

    “…Stay out of this.”

    “I cannot. Not when I have seen this before."

     "Seen?"

    Seam leaned closer across the counter, his stitched face steady, eyes glimmering with something older, heavier.

     "Leftovers. Puppets dangling by threads unseen. You think him friend, but those strings? They do not loosen, Mister Tenna. They only tighten.”

    Tenna’s claws dug faint grooves into the counter as he leaned forward, static thrumming loudly in the shop. How did that cat know this? How did he know about that damn phone! His voice cracked like a broken signal.

     “…Shut. Up. ”

    “You have felt it, haven’t you? That presence when you near him. The same shadow as the knight. The same echo as the entity you fought. It clings to him, just as it clings to your world. That room. That ringing.”

    Tenna’s breath hissed, sharp bursts of static filling the shop. That cat knew too much. He knew what he had seen, what he fought. What kind of power did it have? Should he fight it? His antennas didn't buzz, his blinking light not getting warmer. Meaning this cat in front of him was someone that he could trust.

    Was it a mistake? To trust him? Was it a mistake? To tell him? He chose to believe that it wasn't

    “…If you know so much...” He muttered, finally. “…then tell me what to do.”

    Seam’s smile softened. “That is not my thread to pull. But I will tell you this. The strings holding him…” He tapped the counter. “…they can snap. But not without cost.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered between light and dark. The same words the human had told him. A choice. A cost.

 

     It was only a matter of time and choice

 

    ...

 

    His claws finally released the cup, and it thudded lightly back to the counter. He sat back, antennas twitching restlessly, his gaze burning into Seam’s stitched grin.

    “…You know too much. ” Tenna said at last.

    Seam chuckled, leaning back, his tail flicking lazily. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you have known it all along, Mister Tenna… and simply needed someone to say it aloud.”

    Tenna chuckled, finally softly. He looked up at the small oiled lamp.

    "I think I will come to this bar again." He gave Seam his host smile. "The service was phenomenal."

    Seam chuckled as well as he continued cleaning his glasses. "Glad to be of service."

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna didn’t host as much after that.

    The letter weighed heavier each day, sitting silent in his office, crisp and waiting. The thought of it flickered behind every broadcast. He would cue the lights, start the programs, keep the stars dancing, and help Mike weigh the audio, but he didn’t put himself front and center as often anymore.

    That letter on his desk weighed heavier than any microphone in his claws.

    Now with his new power of expanding his fountain, he tried to search more. He wandered farther than usual, searching for someone else in his world. But there was no one. No darkners lingered in the snow.

    His Lightners weren’t around much either. Only Asriel and Dess lingered in his screen now, the children curling on the couch or playing at the playpen while his broadcasts ran in the background. Asriel and Dess would be more present as days passed, as well as Carol, who would watch over them. She would take the remote and continue her zapping while still giving the kids stern glares when they were misbehaving. She was still the same old Carol. Rudolph would stop by to keep watch on them, slipping into the sofa next to his wife. The way they kept trading off, though, meant one thing... his Lightners, Toriel and Asgore, were busy elsewhere. Something was shifting in the house, something that kept them away from his screen.

     He wondered what...

    Tenna didn’t pry, though. He noticed, of course. Instead, he simply let the programs run.

    Carol would sometimes lean against the sofa, remote in one hand, her sharp gaze flicking between the kids’ antics and the shows flickering across Tenna’s screen. And then he had seen it again, that absent press of her other hand against her stomach. The same gesture he had noticed before. The same subtle tell from when she had carried Dess.

     She was expecting again.

    Another child, another audience member, another reason to keep the shows playing.

    It was luck, he told himself. Luck, Carol wanted the children entertained. Luck, he didn’t need to host live, to expose himself, to feel those thousands of darkner's eyes boring into his frame. He only needed to broadcast. And with every broadcast, he was spared from having to decide about that letter.

     But his office was heavier now with it in it.

    So Tenna wandered. Sometimes he found himself drifting back into Seam’s shop. The cat never pressed more than he had to. They would talk, not as they had that first time. They would talk about anything that came to their minds. About how Tenna didn't like the castle since it was painted in black and white. How it had reminded him of his first days in his world. Other times, Seam would start the conversation, and when it returned to the phone, Tenna would end it. Seam always seemed to know when not to say more.

    But lately, Seam seemed to be interested in the clown of his world. Tenna had spoken with him. He was an energetic fella indeed, but Seam had felt something. He would speak with a serious face, and not smurking as he did. Tenna could feel something ripple off him. Not interested. Not amusement. Something heavier. A recognition, perhaps.

    Tenna tilted his screen at him then, watching, feeling his antennas buzzing. Was that something not right with Seam or perhaps the clown? Was Seam feeling something off or something for him? For once, Seam seemed unsettled by his gaze.

    But he didn’t press. Not yet.

    Other times, Tenna would step across Cyber City, only to reach out to the human. The human would listen, patient, though with the same weary uncertainty as before. Both knew what troubled Tenna at the moment, but Tenna also had other things that annoyed him. Like, why didn't he have any darkners yet? Why was it... so empty?

    "Your world… remains… empty for a reason..." The human had finally answered Tenna when he asked them what was bothering him. "Perhaps it is waiting. Or perhaps it is… broken in a way even I cannot read.”

    Tenna didn’t respond, simply playing with the railing again. He wanted to ask more, press for answers, understand. But even the human, as perceptive as they were, could only offer observation. No guidance. No solution.

    Which was weird. What was happening to his world?

    Was he doing something wrong? Was something stopping him?

    Tenna would stay at his office after that. He would still wander, protect, and oversee, but now he would be more concerned over the fact that his world was lacking something. He would think of what exactly was stopping him when Mike stormed into the office.

    The door slammed harder than it should have, rattling the stacks of tapes on the shelf. Tenna’s screen flicked up sharply, static flashing across it. Mike’s voice came fast, sharp, tinted with the faintest worry under his usual bite.

     “Why the hell haven’t you answered it yet?”

    Tenna froze. His antennas stiffened as the words hit. The letter...

    Mike’s waves slapped the desk, and there it was, the envelope, the letter resting open where Mike had dropped it.

    “You’ve been hiding it here. Weeks. Maybe longer. You think I wouldn’t notice? The Cyber City darkners are waiting for you, Tenna. They talk about nothing else. Do you have any idea what it means for them?”

    The room was filled with silence. Tenna sat back in his chair, claws curling tight around the armrests. His voice buzzed low, distorted.

    “…I know exactly what it means.”

    Mike’s glare didn’t ease. “Then why?”

    Tenna’s screen tilted away from Mike’s stare. His antennas drooped in his head, buzz faint, flickering static as though he couldn’t keep himself tuned.

    “What if they act like the first time they saw me?” He whispered. His claws flexed against the desk. “What if… what if they see a monster again?”

    Mike’s waves faltered, flattening in the silence. He didn’t say anything back. Didn’t push.

    Tenna’s voice came sharper now, breaking. “What if they hurt me again?”

     “They won’t...” Mike said, finally, his tone raw. “They have started changing, Tenna. Accepting everyone. Even… TVs.” His grin wavered as he tried to lighten it. “Didn’t you see that Addison ? The one who asked for your autograph? They won’t chase you anymore. They admire you.”

     “Because they have seen me on TV!” Tenna snapped back, growling loudly. He lifted a claw, pointing it as though accusing. “Not close. Not face-to-face. On a stage, behind a screen, safe for them. They haven’t met me in person, haven’t smelled me, heard me breathe. What happens when they realize I am truly feral? That I’m not like them?!”

    Mike didn’t answer right away. Tenna’s claws curled hard enough into the desk that the wood groaned. His tail sparked with annoyance, but also the pressure he felt. His voice cracked through his distortion, a bitter laugh tangled with fear.

    “It’s okay to be different, you say. But to them? I’m not different, Mike. I’m a monster. I’m an insult. I am feral to their eyes! They only pretend to believe I’m sentient when I am behind the glass, where they can clap and cheer and turn me off when it’s over. What if this is all a trap? What if that letter is just bait to drag me out so they can rip me apart again?”

    Tenna’s screen flickered, brightness dimming, then pulsing faint again. Mike didn’t answer. He lingered, his gaze softer than his usual sharp grin, before he finally turned.

     "You have shown the world what you are capable of. A TV, a host, a superstar. You are Tenna. And nothing would change that."

    He left without another word.

    But before he shut the door behind him, he slipped something onto Tenna’s desk.

     A photo.

    A grainy shot of Tenna on stage, mid-broadcast, arms raised to the lights. The kind of photo Mike never would have admitted he took in secret.

    Underneath, scrawled in jagged ink, were four words...

 

 

     'I am proud of you.'

 

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The days dragged, one bleeding into the next. Tenna still didn’t host. He told himself it was fear. He told himself it was because his Lightners didn’t need him right now. He told himself both, and neither answer was enough.

    His stars tried to help. They would whirl around him in bursts of color and static, trying to push him toward the stage, chanting their cheers. Sometimes they even flicked the lights on, started the show for him, coaxing him with new costumes or the rhythm of applause that only they could make. But Tenna would stand there, stiff and silent, screen lowered. They understood, he wasn’t in the mood. The laughter and sparkle faded back into murmurs.

    Mike was still there. He still spoke. But Tenna… he didn’t face him as often anymore. Not from anger, not from distrust, something worse. Embarrassment. Honor. The fact that Mike had put him so high on that pedestal, had trusted in him that much, left Tenna unsure how to respond. He wasn’t used to someone seeing him that way.

    So he hid whenever he could. Out of his stage, out of the studio. Into the snow. He ran around his world, searching for any trace of darkners, but always came back with nothing. Always the same silence, the same emptiness. And so he stayed in his office more and more, the only sound the buzz of his tail against the chair.

    The photo Mike had left him now hung on the wall. He had framed it. It was his prized possession after all. In the bare office, the image shone more and more each day... himself on stage, caught mid-light, alive in the spotlight Mike had admired. It belonged there, Tenna thought. It made the office feel complete, finally, after so long.

    The letter still sat on his desk, forgotten there after Mike had slammed it against it, its weight unbearable. He stared at it more often now, letting the color of his screen fade. Still no answer. Still no courage to tear it or to throw it away.

     Tenna didn't know what to do...

    With a low growl, Tenna let his screen drop against the desk, the slam echoing in the hollow office. He didn’t lift it again, only sat slumped, the faint buzz of his tail filling the silence.

 

    ...

 

     Riiiing...

 

    ...

 

    That damned phone again.

    Tenna’s screen flicked up, slowly. The ring carried through the studio, steady, patient, the same way it always did. No one would hear it as he did. He stood, dragging himself toward it without realizing, every step heavy with thoughts of the letter. How far it had pulled him down already, how it seemed to destroy his life... he was walking towards the cursed Z-rank room he wanted no part of.

     The phone’s ringing pulled him as it always did.

    He stopped in front of the door. The sound bled through it, sharp, unyielding as always. His claw reached for it. His antennas flicked high with dread, warning him, but his screen had faded into nothingness...

 

    ...

 

    ... a droplet?

 

    Was he crying?

 

     No...

 

    It was a familiar drop he had felt before.

    Something drifted across the corner of his vision. A shape. A cloud.

     A familiar cloud.

    His screen lit in a flash, recognition and alarm sparking through him. The same cloud-creature he had seen before, the one that had stood on his stage and escaped him.

    It pulsed faintly, as though it were watching him. It seemed to be annoyed, and its face showed sadness written on it. It started to cry again, and Tenna could feel the soft breeze of rain hitting him . His tail sparked annoyed again with the rain, but Tenna’s sudden determination flashed into his screen.

    Tenna’s claws curled tight, his screen buzzing with light, ready to give chase again. His focus snapped fully onto it, antennas screaming.

 

    The ringing stopped.

 

     Forgotten.

    ...

 

    ...

 

    The little cloud darted above the empty hall, wringing itself like a sponge. Droplets sprinkled, then snowflakes dusted the floor, each release followed by a giggle like static chimes.

    Tenna’s screen flickered bright... ready! He lunged.

    The cloud bolted, zigzagging through the air, leaving a faint trail of shimmer behind it. Tenna gave chase, claws scraping the floor, tail buzzing as sparks popped off his frame. For the first time in days, a sharp smile flickered across his screen. The thrill of the pursuit lit him up, pushing the weight of everything away.

    But the cloud… it wasn’t fleeing. It slowed whenever Tenna was left behind, floating just enough ahead to keep him chasing. Teasing. Waiting. Playing.

    Then... poof! A burst of snow slapped Tenna’s screen. He staggered, his antennas buzzing, annoyed.

    Tenna’s grin returned sharper. “So that’s how it is.”

    He swiped, claw carving through the mist. Little arcs of static snapped against the cloud’s edges. The cloud doubled in size as the static had been absorbed in it. The sheep-like sprite puffed up angrily, cheeks glowing pink. It gave a squeaky huff, then spun away again, raining on him with another sprinkle of snow, hitting him hard, burying him.

     “A prankster...” Tenna muttered as he got out, tail buzzing louder.

    The chase carried on, a dance of claws and vapor, laughter and sparks. Until at last, the cloud rushed into the stage hall. It stopped among the scattered holograms, pausing curiously as projections of the weather flickered in midair.

    Tenna slowed, screen dimming with a curious tilt. Carol had been in charge of the remote as always. She had stayed on the weather channel. Sunlight beamed down across the holograms, repeating clear skies that would stretch over the Lightner's days. The cloud hovered there, staring. It tilted its misty head, as if marveling.

    Tenna padded closer. “What’s wrong? Don’t like the sun?”

    The sprite froze. Then, with a sudden hum, its mist swelled into a deep flush of red. It rushed him in a flurry, snow bursting across his chest.

    Tenna barked out a laugh. “Whoa! I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

    The cloud zipped past him, weaving through the holograms of blue skies, but when the images flickered to the sun again, it turned quiet. Watching. Waiting. As if hoping for an answer it would never get.

    The cloud lingered in the halo of the hologram, its misty body glowing faintly in the projection of sunlight. Tenna’s screen flickered, catching something, its expression. A smile. Small, faint, but unmistakable.

    Tenna froze.

    That smile… he had seen it before. Toriel, giving it to Asgore. Asgore, giving it back. The way their faces softened when they looked at Asriel. That look meant only one thing.

     Love.

    His claws twitched, then folded behind his back, his tail curling in thought as he stared at the sun’s projection with the cloud.

     “…So. You’re… in love with the sun? The warmth?” He tilted his screen slightly. “I don’t… understand.”

    The hologram flickered forward, changing from day to night. The soft glow of the moon replaced the golden light, its sprite drifting across the projected horizon. Tenna’s gaze followed it, it was moving like the cloud...

     Wham!

    The cloud slammed into him with surprising force, knocking him backward onto the stage. Static hissed across his screen.

     “What?!”

    It darted between him and the hologram, puffing itself wide, guarding the moon sprite with an almost desperate determination. Its expression hardened, round little face firm with protectiveness.

    “You… wanted to protect it?” Tenna rasped, pushing himself up, claws scraping the floor. His gaze lingered on the way it stood before the projection, as though shielding someone dear.

    Something strange stirred in him then... an ache? His chest buzzed as his tail coiled tighter around his frame. He pressed his claws against his screen.

    “…What… is this feeling?”

    The cloud turned, noticing how his screen flickered and his form got smaller. It floated closer, slowly, and gave him a smile . Not the playful grin it had shown while tricking him. Not the lovestruck smile it had given the sun, or the protective one it had shown the moon. This was different. Gentle. Warm. Familiar.

     The same kind of smile Mike had given him.

    Tenna’s screen glitched. His breath stuttered, knees hitting the stage floor. He could barely process it as the cloud hesitated, looking back at the moon for a second before finally drifting right to him. Its mist seeped softly into his static, easing the tight ache in his chest.

    Tenna looked at it curious. It had healed him.

    The holograms flickered one last time, then the forecast ended. The moon vanished, leaving the hall dim once again. The cloud deflated, its body drooping with visible sadness as its gaze lingered on the empty air where the moon had been.

    Tenna’s claws slowly opened. He extended them, palm upward. The cloud blinked at him, hesitant. Then it nestled onto his hand, its mist curling lightly against his claws.

    Tenna’s screen flickered with his familiar flow, showing he didn't want to hurt the small cloud. “…Sorry. Guess I let the moment slip, right?”

    The cloud didn’t answer... just a slow, sheepish smile spread across its airy face. Tenna smiled back at it. He felt it getting warm in his claws as it showed him that it was starting to trust him.

    For a brief moment, it was only the two of them, suspended in that dim stage light. The hologram had already faded, but Tenna barely noticed it. He only noticed the cloud.

    Then...

     BZZZZZZZT!

    His antennas sparked violently, buzzing like they had caught fire. The cloud jolted, puffing up with alarm, and in an instant, it darted away from his hands.

    “W-wait!” Tenna reached out, but it was gone, retreating into the shadows above. His claws closed around nothing. His screen darkened, static curling at the edges as his body sank low.

    “…Always scared off by this noise…” His tail thumped against the stage, a low hiss escaping it. Yet, even as frustration bubbled, something lingered in him. Hope. For a moment, he had been so close. He had felt it. The cloud wasn’t just some sprite...

     ...it was his darkner.

    And for the first time in a long while, he wanted to believe that his world was starting to grow again.

    His antennas shrieked again, pulling him away from the thought. He whipped around just as the massive screen behind the stage lit up. White static cleared into an image, the living room of the Dreemurrs’ house.

    Asriel and Dess were there, playing together. Tenna tilted his head. But where was Carol? He didn’t have to wait long.

    His Lightners entered the room, one by one. Asgore first, smiling in a way that startled Tenna. Wide. Excited. Just like the cloud’s smile before. Rudolph followed with the same wide smile, hitting Asgore in the shoulder, celebrating. Then Carol, with a softer smile on her face, was hesitant, yet calm. Tenna’s screen flickered.

     Why was she smiling like that…?

    Finally, Toriel stepped into the room. In her arms, she carried a woven basket. Tenna’s claws dug into the stage as his antennas twitched wildly. He leaned closer, static crackling louder as the basket shifted.

    Inside... A baby.

    His whole body froze, his claws falling limp at his sides. His static stilled. He couldn’t process it. He hadn't seen Toriel pregnant or felt it. Asgore hadn't mentioned anything, hadn't celebrated yet. So... what was going on?

    Toriel smiled down at the tiny form, her gaze radiating love and affection. She lifted the child gently, cradling them in her arms. The screen’s glow sharpened, pulling every detail into Tenna’s mind until it consumed him. Making him focus.

     A human baby.

    The moment Toriel lifted the baby from the basket, Tenna’s whole world shifted.

    The static on his screen didn’t hum anymore, it sang for him to come closer. Every inch of his body was drawn forward as though the stage itself pulled him. The walls of his theater blurred, melted away. All that remained was the glow of the Dreemurrs’ living room.

     Toriel ’s voice echoed faintly.

     “…Welcome, Kris.”

    The human baby blinked, small and new, its tiny laugh spilling out as it wriggled in Toriel’s arms. Tenna’s breath caught. His claws reached out, trembling. He swore... no, he felt... that he was there in the room. That the warmth of everyone in the room brushed against his screen, that the Dreemurrs’ smiles reached him. That was when he extended his claws, they touched...

    Soft hair. Softer than mist.

    He could feel his screen getting wet, overwhelmed, and yet the widest smile stretched across his screen. The ache in his chest, the pain he had never understood, finally made sense. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for. His whole life.

    As the baby giggled under his touch, Tenna’s claws shook. His chest swelled until he thought it might break apart.

    “…hello... Kris…” He whispered, joyful.

    The cloud’s smile. Mike’s look. The photo he had been given. The applause of his fans. All of it wove together here, in this moment.

    This boy, Kris, was his family. His baby. The missing piece that made everything whole.

    “Seems this stage will need to be wider than before.” Mike’s voice came quietly behind him. “Another member of the family has joined.”

    Tenna didn’t turn. He barely even noticed the stars gathering silently, watching, not daring to disturb him. They all had heard when the stage demanded Tenna to be in it, they all heard the screen opening, and when Tenna was speaking to the screen as if he was in the living room. Tenna's entire being though , was locked onto Kris.

    The Dreemurrs and the Holidays all looked at Kris with love. Happiness. Asriel seemed locked to Kris as well and his smile was wider than before. Dess was talking to the baby, trying to make it speak to her, while the others just watched Kris with adoration. Especially Toriel. Exactly the same way Tenna had felt Mike watch him, every time he performed. Exactly the same way he had seen the cloud smile at the moon.

     Now he understood.

    Kris was different, a human, another different breed of Lightners than the others, and yet... he was loved. He was seen, he was... enough. Tenna smiled wider than ever before.

     He understood it.

    Tenna closed his eyes, holding the warmth of the child in his claws as if it were truly his.

    “…Mike.” His voice was soft, steady, but it carried the strength of a decision finally made.

    Mike tilted his head. “Yeah?”

      “I’ve decided.”

    Tenna opened his eyes again, his smile unwavering as the glow of Kris’s laugh echoed in his chest.

     “I’ll do the interview.”

    Mike froze for a second, then smiled too, the kind that reached deep. The one that always flashed him. The one that Tenna now understood what it meant.

    And Tenna knew. He was different... Feral, a TV, a host, a superstar, everything in the above. But that was ok.

     He was Tenna.

    He had shown everyone that whatever he was supposed to be, he was him, and he would never forget that ever again.

Notes:

It seems the Dremuurr family is finally complete. Kris joined us. Wonder what will happen next now that Tenna had started to change what darkners are seeing him as. How will he act in the interview... who knows... and what is happening to his world? Elnina seems there but someone is missing...
Plus I wanted to see if you caught it but as the chapter was flowing, Fifty's appearance started to dim. Wonder why...

Chapter 7: FRIEND

Notes:

Hello and welcome back! Well... as you can read the chapter's name... something will happen in it. I wonder what, you will get a cookie if you find out. Plus another cookie if you find what Tenna's suit is inspired on. Also, this chapter is 20k, so get comfy!

    Each day passed with a surprising glee in each one of them. The world around Tenna shifted like the theater itself had taken a new breath. And it was noticeable... after all, a new member had started watching TV. Not like Asriel, of course, but Tenna could feel those little eyes following him around.

    Tenna finally, with his Lightners back into their house, decided to perform again. He needed to catch up on his shows and performance. After all... he had an interview to go to. An interview that was long overdue to finally agree to participate.

    The stars were ecstatic, practically glowing brighter than ever, as they flitted around the stage, whispering excitedly about what Tenna had said. Mike looked content and calm, but Tenna could feel the almost disbelieving joy. And who could blame him? Tenna was finally going to be featured. Featured! He was the main thing on the stage. Not just hosting, showing it. He was the one who would be shown.

     He was the star of the show!

    Tenna started to do more shows, kid-friendly and adult ones, trying to have a broader knowledge of his channels. Some were fitting him like gloves, while others were a bit of something he liked doing. Others... were not his cup of tea, continuing broadcasting them. He could feel the eyes on his frame each time he hosted, feeling his Lightners and the darkners watching him with wonder and amusement. Tenna started to like it again. After all, he was an attention-seeking creature.

     He liked being watched.

    After some time thinking about how to answer the letter, how to sound professional, and explaining the reason why he hadn't answered it for a long time, he sent it. Mike had helped, knowing that Tenna would screw the letter if he was left alone. Mike was right. Tenna was never the one who could write scripts, contracts, or anything with exceptional detail. He could write a simple script, something to follow, ideas, and when he wanted, he could focus on what he needed to write. Sometimes... He was more improvising, following his heart... perhaps his instincts as well. So thank the fountain that Mike was with him, helping him with that.

     He would have messed it up!

    There was another problem. How would he send the letter? He didn't know how he got in the first place, who delivered it as well, since he hadn't felt any sign of life when it was dropped off. He held it with shocked claws as his tail was buzzing with annoyance. He didn't even know who sent it! Mike told him to just leave it where he found it.

     What a wonderful idea...

    Tenna sighed but followed what Mike had said. He let the letter outside the studio, and to both of their shock, the letter floated up and, with a quick circle in the air, disappeared, leaving behind small sparkles as it was magical. Tenna decided to explain it as such.

    Not minutes after that, a new letter appeared, coming down on his claws. Tenna watched it with an open mouth as he grabbed. That... was fast. As he opened the letter... he was genuinely surprised by the enthusiasm it was written with. They were waiting for Tenna. And now... he knew to whom he would be addressed, and he had a place and time.

     A date.

    It wasn’t long before the news spread.

    Banners across the Dark World shimmered with his name. Bigger than his original ones, perhaps because he was advertised with his own show. Now he was the talk of a show the darkners knew well. Posters and glowing ads lit up in alleyways and on the walls of old buildings.

     “A Night with the Star of the Stage - Mr Antenna!”

    He would stop and look at them with awe. That was his full name and his frame in there. His smile was with the usual outfit he was wearing. He was still trying to understand how the hell the darkners took the photo of him. Did they take it from his shows? Did Mike mail them any that he looked good in? Mike would whistle when Tenna would take him to Cyber City, showing it to him.

     Guessed he got his answer...

    It seemed Mike was more ecstatic over the interview than he was. To have prepared so many things for it, to send photos, and write the best recommendations for the banners. He had his hands full and Tenna sometimes wondered how he did it... Mike had winked at him, telling him it was magic... sure...

    And now... he was more anxious than he. Tenna had calmed down, finally realizing his worth and what he was. He still second-guessed himself, but now he was more ready than ever. He was ready to conquer the TV world outside his own!

    The air buzzed with anticipation every time he walked through the other dark worlds. Word traveled quickly, and whispers grew into roars, crowds of darkners murmured excitedly in the streets. Everyone was waiting for him, the Tenna who had been a myth for so long, finally stepping out into the open. Each time he heard it, he was starting to feel important, overjoyed.

     Ready to show them what he is!

    Even the human was excited as he had met them at the top of the festival that the Cyber always had. They were more open now, walking the streets, enjoying the freedom Tenna had provided them. The human would laugh at him each time they saw him with the coat, but now Tenna wasn't hiding... no, no... he was blending with the crowd. After all... he was now a celebrity, darkners would recognize him and the human would watch him with dumbfounded. He was right! They would be over him in a second, and that would not help Tenna’s image. He needed to be in shadows for now. Or at least have another disguise because this one was starting to get old.

    Tenna would be offended for a second, but he would enjoy the company of the human more and more. They would tell him secrets of the world, showing them, taking him on tours. They would tell him what to be careful and how to act, especially with the upcoming interview, which the human was waiting for. Tenna would blush at it, feeling overwhelmed. He didn't know that so many darkners were so excited to see him. Even Seam was excited when he visited him again, telling him what to say and how to act. All of his friends were ecstatic about it, giving him tips and showing genuine excitement.

     It felt... amazing.

    He would walk around the Cyber City with the human, overseeing the world, protecting it. Even though the human was now more visible, they still had a job to do. They were the temporary protector after all, as Tenna. They shouldn't let down their guard, whatever the cause. And Tenna had agreed.

    Even with the weight of the world’s eyes now waiting for him, Tenna still found himself searching after each overseeing. Trying to find any darkners, or anything. Every day, he would return back empty-handed.

     He found no one. His heart ached each time, empty. Although... he would catch glimpses of the cloud-creature again. Only to vanish again the moment he tried to speak. The cloud appeared, yes, but always just beyond reach, like something was holding it back. Something Tenna couldn’t yet see.

    He knew... no, he felt it... this cloud was a darkner. His darkner. He wondered if that was their form, like one of his stars. But he couldn't reach it... Something was stopping it from approaching him. Like it was holding it back.

    The ache in his chest returned every time, and yet he pressed forward.

    Mike began the rehearsals. He wanted the interview to be the most Tenna thing you would see. He wanted it to be flawless! He was starting to get more anxious each time he began the rehearsals. After all, the interview's date was approaching.

    “Alright, Tenna!” He said one evening, flipping through his notes. “They will ask you about your music, about your fans. About your… Lightners.” His eyes softened at the word. "Show me what you got!"

    Tenna nodded, claws clasped behind his back. He practiced smiling, practiced words that felt strange rolling out of him, gentle words, jokes that fitted his answers, laughs that sounded normal, not static like.

    The stars took their role just as seriously. They rummaged through racks of outfits, fluttering pieces of cloth in their tiny arms, squealing with delight whenever one shimmered under the spotlight. Tenna would wait in front of the giant mirror of the dressing room, as the stars would circle him, taking his measurements and making new outfits for him. Tenna knew that they were just as anxious because he had never seen them take his measurements. They knew what he wore and knew when to make it.

     Things were getting serious.

    Why should he change his outfit? Wasn't this ok? His usual black tailcoat and black trousers? Or... was it old? The stars seemed to argue. Some were throwing, coats, to jackets, to trousers. Tenna watched them with dropped antennas... was that so difficult?

    Finally, after some tries and... days of brainstorming, they managed to make one. They draped a stylish, deep-blue suit with sharp folds, along with matching black pants and shoes. But what shocked Tenna, though, was when the stars told him to twirl. As he did, the suit jacket unfolded, and behind two small tails appeared. A colorful triangular rainbow pattern decorated the back of it, adding contrast to the dark tones. Tenna watched it with awe while the stars celebrated behind him, as they had found the perfect outfit for him.

     Something to impress.

    The rainbow was hypnotic, like the colors when Tenna used his screen, flashy, attention-seeking. He looked perfect. A stage performer. He lifted his left hand in a theatrical gesture, as if addressing an audience or performing, testing the outfit. It was following him, enhancing his movements. His tail wagged behind him, not disturbing the tailcoat. It fitted right there, highlighting it with its electricity.

     It was just... perfect.

    Mike moved behind him, admiring the outfit, giving his words of encouragement to the stars, which seemed to shine more. Tenna watched himself in the mirror. It was amazing. He laughed with the stars and Mike, feeling this moment lingered more than he had asked for.

    It was good. He was feeling happy.

     Then...

    Why Tenna still felt… restless?

    The stage lights shimmered as he stood before them, rehearsing how to hold himself, how to speak with calm. Yet his claws fidgeted, his screen flickering faintly, his tail flicking suddenly, electricity that didn't match the outfit.

 

     Something was missing.

 

                                            Someone.

 

    And then, in a silence thick with nervous energy, his antennas buzzed violently. He froze, blinking, as if a thought had struck him hard.

     “…Fifty...” He whispered.

    The name hung in the air, almost foreign after so long. The stars tilted their heads, confused. Then slowly, realization washed over them like cold water. Mike’s face darkened, his smile faltering.

     They hadn’t seen him. Not since...

     ...when?

    The sticker that had once clung to Tenna, loud, brash, unrelenting. Who had fought with him, pushed him, and vanished into silence. Tenna’s claws curled. His static crackled faintly.

     “…He hasn’t been here.”

    The stars exchanged uneasy glances. Mike lowered his eyes, thoughtful. For all the joy of what was coming, for all the banners and excitement that the world now prepared for… Tenna couldn’t shake the hollow gap.

    He had a stage. He had an audience waiting. He had hope. But he didn’t have all of his friends.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The corridor swallowed them in silence as Tenna strode forward. Mike followed after a beat, jaw tight. He didn’t even ask where, they both knew.

     The Z-rank room.

    The old door groaned at him with its low glow. It was mocking Tenna again. Like it was laughing. Mike’s waves pulsed as he also felt the mockery, but didn't say anything. The stars seemed overwhelmed since they never dared to go inside the door, but today it was different. They had a reason. Tenna grabbed the doorknob.

    It opened, its chipped paint and crooked hinges untouched by time. The rank room was the same as it had ever been, shadows crowding the air, the static walls still playing whatever they wanted, haunting the place. Tenna froze on the threshold, a wave of frustration and ache hitting him all at once. Nothing had changed here. Not a single thing.

     He hated this room. Every time he entered, he felt the weight of everything he tried to bury pressing against him.

    And yet, he pushed forward.

    His claws curled as he opened the door fully... and there he was.

     Fifty.

    The little star-shaped sticker sat in the middle of the room, hunched over the old cordless phone as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. His body looked the same... and yet not. There was something wrong, Tenna could feel it in his screen. The way his outline shimmered faintly, colors leaking where they shouldn’t... flashes of yellow and purple bleeding through the old red and gold.

    The humans’ warning echoed in his head, sharp and unwavering.

     Consumed.

    Tenna’s chest clenched.

    “...What do you want?” Fifty asked, his voice flat. But his smile... was unnervingly calm. It didn’t match the sharp undertone.

    Tenna froze, words tangled in static. But Mike had followed him inside. The manager’s usual easy composure faltered as soon as his eyes landed on Fifty. He stiffened, shoulders heavy.

    “…You feel it too...” Mike murmured, almost to himself. Then louder, carefully. “Fifty. What are you doing here? Do you even realize what’s happening out there?”

    Silence. Fifty’s fingers traced the plastic ridges of the phone.

    “The stage. The banners. The Lightners. The baby.”

    Tenna’s breath caught, the sound sharp. He stepped closer despite the crawling ache in his chest. “...You know about the baby?”

    Fifty’s head tilted, his eyes reflecting the dim glow. “Yeah... Kris...”

    He turned back to the phone. Tenna didn't like how Fifty held the word at the end. He felt something burning him in his arm... the blinking light. Tenna hissed. No...

    Fifty’s voice dropped, quiet, but every word scraped against the air.

    “The baby. The interview. Everyone’s moving forward. Going places.”

    But then, suddenly, his voice cracked into a shout. Raw, desperate, echoing against the static walls. They stopped showing things and only true static appeared in them, lingering harder than before. Fifty’s grin stretched too wide.

    

     “EXPECT ME!”

 

    The words tore through the room like static exploding in Tenna’s screen. Tenna staggered, his antennas sparking wildly. Mike stepped back, his expression caught between sympathy and alarm. The stars cowered outside the doorway.

    Fifty’s breathing was shallow, his form trembling, but that hollow edge in him only seemed to spread. And Tenna, frozen in the middle of the room, finally understood.

     Fifty wasn’t coming back.

    Tenna stepped forward, chest tightening. The glow of the old phone flickered against Fifty’s shell, casting his little frame in a sickly halo. For a moment, Tenna thought it was just the light, until he noticed it.

    The colors. He was right...

    His little sticker body, once painted in red and gold, was flickering now, almost disappearing. Streaks of yellow and purple bled through his form, pulsing brighter with each second, like veins of lightning breaking him apart. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right.

    Tenna’s throat closed.

    "Fifty…” He said softly, static trembling in his voice. “You’re not… you’re not yourself.”

    But the sticker only tilted his head with that same too-calm smile, his hands still tight around the phone.

    Tenna dropped to one knee, lowering himself to his level, antennas buzzing erratically. “Look... I know. You think you have been left behind. That everything’s moving without you. But that’s not true. I’m here. I came for you. Tell me what you want, and...”

    He reached out, claws almost brushing his small figure. “...I’ll give it to you. Just… tell me.”

    Fifty’s smile twitched. For a moment, Tenna swore he saw the old glint in his eyes, the one from before, the one from before all this mess.

    But then, his body pulsed again. Brighter this time. The yellow and purple flared, drowning the red and gold. His eyes dimmed. Tenna had heard a faint ringing...

    Slowly, he turned back to the cordless phone in his hands, holding it like it was the only thing left tethering him. His voice was quiet, hollow, final.

    “…Only one can give me that heaven.”

    Tenna froze.

     “What…?”

 

      'A shot at heaven...'

 

    Tenna wished he had never heard the human say that...

    Fifty didn’t answer. His gaze never left the phone. The flickering light from his body spread across the walls like veins of color, swallowing the dim shadows of the rank room.

    Tenna’s chest ached, static roaring in his head. He wanted to reach further, to drag him back, but something deep in his core whispered the truth... he was already gone.

    With a shuddering breath, Tenna staggered back. His claws curled, antennas still buzzing as he forced himself to turn away. He didn't want to do this! He needed to find a way!

     He wanted his friend back...

    Mike met his eyes in the doorway, expression dark, shaken. Neither of them said a word. The stars seemed to know what Tenna was about to do. Tenna cast one last look over his shoulder. Fifty was still there, sitting in the same place, staring at that phone like it was everything.

    And then Tenna left the rank room, shutting the door behind him.

     But the ache stayed.

    

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    On the surface, everything was moving perfectly toward the interview. Tenna continuing his performances, Mike helping him with the studio and the stars lighting as they always did. But Tenna’s mind was stuck behind the Z-rank door.

    Each time he blinked, he saw Fifty’s hollow colors flicker, an annoying reminder... gold to yellow, crimson into purple, fading. The scream was still echoing through his screen. The weight of it gnawed at him.

    Mike noticed. The stars noticed. He laughed it off when they pressed, flashing static smiles, waving them away. But at night, when the studio grew silent, Tenna sat in silence and replayed it again. And again. And again.

     He needed to tell someone.

    The human was at the fountain again, as if they had known he would come. Their posture was calm, but their eyes shifted the moment they saw him, reading the heaviness in his frame.

    His antennas hung low, his static buzzed dull. The human didn’t need to ask what had happened. Their expression faltered, eyes dropping to the pavement.

    “He’s… he’s not the same.” Tenna finally spoke, voice glitching low. “His colors are gone. Yellow. Purple. Flickering. He kept holding onto that stupid phone like it was the only thing left. He wasn’t really there.” His claws dug into his suit sleeve until the threads bent.

     The human was silent. Their lips pressed tight.

    “…You think he’s gone too far, don’t you?” Tenna asked, his voice sharp.

    The human’s gaze lifted, troubled. They didn’t answer right away, but the hesitation was enough.

     “Is it normal?!” Tenna pressed, his frame jittering as his tail sparked with desperation. “For a sticker to act like that? For any darkner to act like that?"

    The human’s shoulders rose and fell slowly. “…The darkness puts each one in different stages.” They murmured at last. “Some linger. Some slip faster. Some… get consumed before you even realize.”

    Tenna’s claws twitched. His chest hollowed. “ …So he’s worse than I thought.”

     The human didn’t deny it.

    A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the fountain’s endless trickle.

    “Then come. Come to my world. See him yourself. Tell me if it’s true. Tell me if he’s still… him.” His voice cracked, anger and pleading knotted together.

    The human lifted their eyes to him, calm, but unbearably heavy. “…I can’t.”

     “Why?” Tenna snapped, stepping forward, screen brighter than before.

     “…I don’t feel it.”

    The words stung. His antennas flickered. Didn't feel it? Seam’s voice echoed in his head suddenly. That's what he had also told Tenna. That he couldn't feel it at all. So the darkness had affected more than Tenna could admit.

    “And even if I did...” The human added softly. “ I wouldn’t be able to come yet.”

    Tenna froze. His claws flexed uselessly. “What does that even mean?”

    The human’s lips curled in a faint smile. “…It means some doors aren’t open yet. Not for me.”

    He stared, claws flexing. “That doesn’t make any sense...”

     "Not everything needs to make sense." The human said firmly.

    Tenna would stop feeling the energy shifting, and he turned and looked at the fountain, feeling its warmth. He looked down at the blinking light. He felt it twist when he was near Fifty, warning him. Meaning that whatever he was doing was making him an enemy. Tenna hissed, annoyed as his tail came to his hands. He held it closer to his chest, just to control his urges.

     Why was he yet again pulled under...

    "Do you know your purpose?"

    Suddenly, the human would ask, continuing the conversation as he wasn't the one who had ended it. Tenna didn't answer as he continued looking at the fountain, not giving him an answer. But the human chuckled, feeling his thoughts.

    "We all have one. Mine is to keep this world safe... for now."

    That caught Tenna’s attention. He remembered the human telling him that they were the temporary protector of this world, and now that he was thinking about it...

    "What will happen when the true protector comes?" Tenna asked, finally turning to look at the human.

    The human watched the fountain with a bittersweet smile on their face. He didn't like that answer. The glow of the fountain highlighted their face. They closed their eyes as they put their hand on their chest to hold something in it, keeping it inside.

    "Then... I guess I will have a new journey ahead of me." They smiled, and Tenna could feel his fans working again.

    "So... you will go somewhere else?" Tenna asked, and the human tilted their head as they played with their chest armor.

     "If I am allowed."

    There it was again! Why was the human talking like that?

    "...I..." They stopped suddenly.

    The human hesitated, hand still pressed against their chest, as though feeling for something that wasn’t there. Their voice, when it came, was quieter. Almost pleading.

    “…I’m searching for something.” Their words floated between them, heavy with a weight Tenna didn’t understand. “Something missing. Something that was taken from me. For what reason… I don’t know.”

    Tenna blinked, antennas tilting. Their tone didn’t sound like riddles this time. It sounded like a wound speaking.

    “The last thing I know...” They continued, their fingers curling against the plate of their chest. “...is that I have to protect this world. Until the time comes. Until I’m free to try and find it again.”

    Tenna’s claws stilled against his tail. His mind twisted at the words, there was honor in what they were saying, a loyalty sharper than anything he could imagine… but it was also a chain. They weren’t free. They had bound themselves to something, maybe against their will.

     They didn't have their freedom.

    “You’re… chained.” Tenna deducted.

    That earned him a laugh. Not bitter, not sharp. Genuine. The sound rang strange in the air, and as they laughed, a faint red glow slipped through their eyes, not strong, but alive.

    “You’re not wrong.” The human admitted, shaking their head faintly. “I feel like that sometimes. But…” Their expression softened, voice dipping with a clarity that almost stung. “There’s a reason why I’m here. Why I protect this place. Why was I told to? The thing I search for... it told me so.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered faintly. “…The thing?”

    The human nodded, gaze distant, like they were chasing echoes of something only they could hear. They didn't explain what it was.

    “I don’t know why it was taken from me. I don’t know if I can have it back. Or why I wasn't… killed, disposed of. I don’t even know if it still waits for me.” Their tone grew raw, fragile. “But I know it knew something was wrong. And it let me go here. To be safe. To stay until it’s time.”

    The fountain’s glow caught the edges of their face as they finally looked back at him, eyes sharper now, the red gleam flashing faint again.

     “I miss it.” They admitted, and their voice cracked just slightly. “More than I can ever say. I need it. But I won’t back down from what I’m supposed to do. Not now. Not when it trusted me enough to let me go.”

    Tenna’s frame tensed. His static wavered. That kind of devotion… it was terrifying. It was admirable. It was crushing.

    Then the human turned fully toward him. Their gaze pierced through his static screen, calm but unbearably direct.

     “…Shouldn’t you do the same for the sticker?”

    The words cut through him like a signal too sharp for his wires. Tenna froze, claws tightening around his tail. His screen dimmed as his mind replayed the good times he had with Fifty when his glow was something he enjoyed seeing... but also the last glimpse of him clutching that stupid phone like a lifeline.

    The human’s question didn’t feel like advice. It felt like judgment. Like a truth he didn’t want to hold.

     He needed to let go...

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The stage glowed in sharp neon, a whirl of blues and reds that burned across Tenna’s frame. He stood center, mic buzzing faintly as he launched into another program. His voice was crisp, his smile calculated, his claws sweeping outward with all the rhythm and shine the crowd expected. He wanted to show everything he got before he gave that interview, and after each program, he was sure he had achieved this.

    But beneath the lights, his static stuttered. Because, even now, Kris’s cries cut through. The baby’s wails weren’t faint or far-off, they pierced like feedback in his screen, louder than any laugh track, sharper than any applause. Unlike Asriel, who had once been a quiet little star in the Dreemurr home, Kris filled every shadow with noise, every silence with a demanding echo.

     They were more harder to control than Asriel, Tenna had deduced. The older Lightners were always tired, and Tenna could feel their tiredness. He was, after all, affected by it as well. Kris's cries were strong, too hard to ignore sometimes. He didn't know humans could produce that kind of noise before. Even tiny ones like Kris.

     It was weird.

    Tenna jolted mid-sentence, his voice glitching for half a second before smoothing over. He forced himself to keep going, screen tilted in practiced charm. The darkners watching noticed nothing. But Tenna’s claws dug faint scratches into the podium, his nerves grinding. Thank the fountain for the gloves because he was sure he wasn't holding his claws in place.

    Mike had assured him that everything was fine, his performance was, as always, amazing, but Tenna could notice the way the signal was flickering. It seemed that he was also affected by the baby. Kris was still crying as Toriel, with closed eyes, rocked them in her arms. She was too tired to hold the baby, Tenna noticed, but Asgore was at work while Asriel played at the playpen with a grimaced face. He was looking at Kris and then back at his blocks, but it appeared that he was also annoyed with his brother.

    Tenna continued his program as best as he could since Kris was still crying harder than before. His tail tried to silence itself when Tenna was moving through the stage, but it was showing Tenna’s annoyance more and more. Tenna had to agree. He couldn't focus with the constant wail playing in the background of his seat. He was getting distracted, but he had learned how to move the conversation without anyone noticing his faint pause of trying to hold it together.

    The stars had helped with Tenna’s lights, but they were not staying with Kris's wails. They had left, trying to get some peace. They were hovering lower those past days... it was for the better for them to relax. Tenna didn't blame them. Mike tried to hold his waves as best as he could, but Tenna could notice the way the light would flicker or when his microphone would stop working for some time. He was getting tired, and so was Tenna...

    After saying his goodbyes and giving his deepest bow, the lights closed, ending the broadcast for today. Tenna sighed as he had managed to hold it together even though Kris's crying, and Mike couldn't be prouder. Even though this was a peculiar routine, they started to have Mike turn it into a lecture, a lesson. How to hold his nerves, how to act, how to improvise. The best rehearsals.

     Truly amazing...

    Mike finally laughed at the end of the program, giving his congratulations to Tenna, even after this hard situation they were in. Tenna smiled, thanking him. He was right, though. Today, Kris was crying harder than before.

    Mike had left him on the stage, as he wanted to finally have a moment of peace since even after the end of the program, Kris continued crying. Tenna sighed again as he put his hands behind his back. He thought about doing the same, but his antennas buzzed. Telling him to examine his Lightners, which he did.

    He opened the screen behind his stage and looked at his Lightners. Kris was still crying. Toriel hushed and rocked and whispered lullabies now awake since Asgore had returned home. Asgore tried every fatherly trick he knew, and even Asriel peeked nervously from behind his mother’s dress. Still, Kris wailed on, louder, sharper, insistent.

    He didn't know how long he had watched the living room, but now Toriel had collapsed into the armchair, asleep, her hair loose and face weary. Asgore slumped beside her, soft snores rumbling. Even little Asriel lay curled on the couch, thumb in his mouth, dreaming quietly. Exhausted as Tenna felt.

     Only Kris was awake.

     Restless. Fists wriggling in the basket. Tiny face scrunched and red as the crying spilled out. His screen flickered dimmer, softer. It was a long night, it seemed to the human. Tenna wondered why Kris was crying so much lately. After every night, they would cry and cry and cry. Whatever Toriel tried to do, nothing seemed to work. Kris couldn't adjust? Couldn't understand where he was?

    They were human after all. That might have scared them seeing other creatures...

     He wondered.

    He stepped forward, leaning toward the vision of that basket. He didn't know how he did it again, but he was inside the living room, walking closer to Kris. It was like he was there, not just watching them but near them. He gave a small glance at the others still asleep, as they should.

     "Kris..." He whispered, his voice trembling more than it had ever done in front of a crowd.

    The human turned and looked at him. They had noticed them, had heard them. Tenna froze. Could... could humans see them? He doubted it, but... Kris was looking at him, examining him. Not through him at him.

    It was... an experience.

     Kris’s little face was still red from the crying, their eyes wet and glassy, but they were watching him. Watching Tenna. Static rattled down his screen. His claws twitched. He had sung before entire arenas of Light and Dark, but never had he felt this bare.

    “Y-you…” His voice glitched. “You… can see me?”

    Kris whimpered, their fists tightening, but their gaze didn’t drift. It locked onto his screen, as if begging him to do something. Tenna’s tail lashed nervously, but slowly he crouched, lowering his frame until his static-buzzed smile was level with the basket.

    “…Then… Kris... allow me to give you a performance.”

    The melody poured out, the same smooth tune he had once sung, a rhythm meant to soothe, to dazzle, to remind the listener of something sweeter than silence. His claws swept in small arcs, his screen pulsing in time. It was stupid, but he had seen Toriel sing it to Kris, and it seemed to work. They seemed to like this melody, making them remember something.

    "Fresh from the Juice, Fresh from the Juice! Make sure you don't get it on your shoese!" He sang lovingly.

    But Kris did not calm down. Their cries broke between hiccupping sobs, face scrunched tighter. The song faltered.

     "Whoa... don't worry, little star.. maybe something else would..." But Kris didn't hear him this time.

    Tenna’s voice glitched again. He felt it. That ache.

    Why? Why wasn’t it working?

    He tried again, softer, smoother, desperate this time, but the baby only wailed louder, turning their face into the blanket as though hiding from him.

    His antennas burned. His tail curled tight. His screen dimmed.

    “…What am I doing wrong?” He whispered, for himself more than anyone.

    He thought back. To Toriel’s lullabies, to Asgore’s strong but helpless rocking, to even Asriel’s sulky glares. None of it worked. And now even he, the performer who could move crowds with a note, couldn’t soothe a single child.

     Unless…

    Tenna’s static shivered. His claws pressed against his own frame. The thought settled.

    They are human. They are surrounded by monsters, creatures unlike them. And I...

    He looked at his reflection in the glass of the cabinet. Sharp claws, tall frame, a white screen with a black smile.

     Not human...

    Maybe they are not crying because of the noise. Maybe they are crying because they are alone.

    His tail twitched. His claws trembled. He had failed as a singer, but maybe just maybe, he could change his performance into another program.

    "I know. I know what you need." Tenna smiled at Kris, who looked at him with interest at the different tone Tenna used.

    Tenna closed his eyes. Focused. Glitched. The lines of his screen stretched, warped. His smile got smaller and... then ping!

    From the center of his screen, a new shape extended. Pointed. White.

A nose. He opened his eyes and touched it. He didn't expect something like this. He looked at his reflection, his screen glowing whiter than before, the huge nose highlighting it. He grimaced. He looked a little closer to a human, but did he really?

    When Kris looked again, the cries faltered. Their watery eyes widened. A bubble of laughter escaped.

     “…?” Tenna blinked, leaning closer. The baby giggled again, chubby hands reaching out toward his sharp, ridiculous nose.

    Kris squealed and reached again, trying to grab it. Their laughter burst out like music, cutting through the silence that had weighed down the whole house. Tenna’s screen stuttered. His tail swayed wildly behind him, betraying his stunned relief.

    “…It… worked?”

    Tenna was in disbelief, but it seemed he was right. Kris felt alone. They wanted to see a human again. He smiled as he let Kris touch his nose again, as they had finally calmed down after so long. The Dreemurrs stirred faintly in their sleep. Asriel shifted, mumbling, but none of them saw.

     It was only Tenna and Kris.

    After what felt so long, silence, broken only by all of his Lightners' soft breaths. He gave a quick glance at Kris as he finally decided to leave. They all deserved a good night's rest today. So he walked back slowly, not to wake them up. Making a promise to see Kris again.

    Tenna returned to his studio. But he knew differently. His antennas still buzzed with the memory of Kris’s laughter, sharp and bright, more powerful than any applause he had ever received. His claws twitched at the thought.

    Mike was waiting, leaning lazily against the mic. The stars hovered nearby, dim at first, but they brightened as Tenna stepped in, glittering bursts that danced like applause only they could give. They must be watching Tenna soothing Kris.

    “Welcome back. Looks like you are also a family man.” Mike chuckled, but when Tenna finally turned to look at him, he froze. “Hold on... what’s that?”

    Tenna froze. His static stuttered, then flared. He lifted a claw, brushing the edge of his screen. It was still there. The nose. Glowing like some absurd joke plastered onto his face.

     And it appeared that it was the best one yet.

    The stars flickered once, twice... then burst in a shimmer of laughter, little sparks bouncing and scattering like they couldn’t hold it in. Mike doubled over, his voice cracking through the mic in booming amusement.

    “Pfff... haah! No way! Some cartoon slap-on disguise nose is that Tenna! Oh, superstar, I have seen a lot of TV tricks in my day, but THIS...” He wheezed. “...this is killing me!”

    Tenna hissed sharply, tail snapping against the floor, screen flashing white-hot static. His claws curled tight as the stars glittered even harder, their bursts rippling across the studio like endless giggles.

     “Silence!” His voice cracked like a whip. And with a single glitch-pop, the nose vanished. His screen smoothing flat, leaving only the stark, perfect smile painted across. His tail twitched wildly, betraying his agitation.

     But the laughter didn’t stop.

    “Ohhh, come on.” Mike wheezed, wiping imaginary tears from the corner of his waves. “Don’t be shy! That nose... it gave you something. Charm! Personality! Hah, you looked like a perfect host there for a second. Meaning.... a Lightner host... Didn’t he, stars?”

    The stars burst brighter, swirling around him like a storm of approval. They didn’t speak, but Tenna felt it, their delight, their sparkling agreement.

    His tail betrayed him again, curling and flicking like it had a mind of its own. He grabbed it, claws tight around the twitching tail, trying to force it still. His static buzzed with irritation, but the truth was there.

    It had worked. Kris had laughed. The stars liked it. Even Mike… for all his teasing… was right.

     “…It gave you charm.” Mike repeated, grin sharp, voice a low hum now. “Character. Maybe you should keep it.”

    Tenna glared. His claws flexed. But then... ping!

    The nose popped back into existence, glowing bright and pointed, absurd against his screen.

    The stars glittered even harder, tiny sparks drifting closer, like they wanted to reach out the same way Kris had.

    Tenna’s static stuttered. His claws trembled. And though he hissed under his breath, trying to silence his own tail again, it swayed anyway... slow, unwilling, but almost… pleased.

 

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 

    The studio lights hummed with a quiet charge, the air heavy with the scent of polish. The stars were restless, fluttering across the ceiling, flickering brighter than usual as if they understood the weight of the day. Mike adjusted cables again and again, trying to silence his nerves, but his waves told a different story.

    It was finally the day. The interview.

    Tenna had taken care of his Lightners, making sure they had everything they needed. His claws lingered on the stacks of tapes he had recorded, segments, jokes, performances, all lined neatly. They would roll in his absence, his voice still filling the stage, his presence stretching even when he wasn’t there. He would also let some shows broadcast in his absence, the stage ready to accept them. He wanted everyone to be ok.

    Especially Kris, since after the little trick Tenna had done, they had started to smile more and would look at the TV with a fond smile. Toriel would joke that humans did indeed like TVs more, but Tenna knew... Kris had seen something in him, and Tenna couldn't be happier about it. They were quieter lately also, which made Tenna more focused on his interview, as if they had given him a blessing, a silent gift.

    Tenna sat in front of his vanity mirror, his screen glowing faintly but sharply. He had decided not to have his nose out for the moment, keeping it a surprise at the interview. After all, his final outfit, the blue suit, would also reveal its true self in there. Tenna was excited when he thought about it as he tested once more, seeing if the rainbow tails would get out when he twirled. They were functioning as they should, and Tenna sighed happily.

    He let the static buzz low in his throat, checking every line, every cue. His smile gleamed across his screen, sharp and practiced, but his tail betrayed him, curling too tightly around one leg. He looked once again at the mirror, and he smiled again.

     It was time.

    A knock on his door. He could feel Mike behind the door, urging him to come out.

     “Everything ready?” Mike’s tone was casual, but the undercurrent of static said otherwise.

    Tenna only nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He stood up, finally, as he went and opened the door, and he smiled at Mike. Mike’s waves grew strong but warm, showing him that everything would be ok. His screen flickered, just once, like a glitch betraying the tension in his system. The stars gathered around him, brightening, urging him onward without words.

    Mike followed Tenna out of the studio, and two stars followed Tenna. He had decided to take some of them with him after he had learned how to take them out of his world. Just to be ready. He never knew what could happen, and Tenna wanted to be ready rather than sorry. Mike had agreed to it.

    Tenna waved goodbye to his other stars, and he could feel how anxious they were. But Tenna could feel something more from them. They were proud... Tenna turned around as he knew that he wouldn't hold it together if he continued looking at them. He left with determination in his heart.

 

    Inside his studio, the shadows were watching with jealousy... it was time for them to emerge...

 

    Cyber City. The city pulsed, alive, its streets glittering with banners and billboards. His own face shone back at him from massive signs, bold letters proclaiming the day.

      “TENNA—LIVE INTERVIEW, TONIGHT.”

    Tenna looked with awe. He didn't know that he was that important. He smiled at the banners, and Mike, next to him, was watching with the same eyes he always watched him with.

     Proud...

    Crowds were already gathering near the outer streets, Darkners buzzing, expectant, as if waiting for a parade. But the street before him was clear, roped off by glowing barricades.

    A car waited at the curb. Sleek, black, humming with the same electrical pulse as the billboards. Its doors opened on their own, waiting for him to enter. Mike lingered a few paces behind, trying to calm himself. The stars swirled in excited bursts, almost clinging to Tenna’s frame before scattering out, disappearing, and waiting for Tenna to call them when needed.

    Tenna stood still for a moment. The car gleamed in silence, waiting. His claws flexed at his side. He felt it... the weight of the interview, of eyes unseen, of voices ready to judge. His static surged, crackled in the air, and for a heartbeat, he thought of Kris’s laugh, of the stars’ flickering delight, of Mike’s happiness.

    His antennas gave one sharp flick. His smile stretched wider. They were right.

     He had made it.

    Without another word, Tenna stepped forward, and the city swallowed him whole as he entered the car.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The car glided through the neon veins of Cyber City, its hum steady and low. Tenna sat inside, claws folded tight on his lap, his reflection flickering faintly against the tinted glass. Outside, the world sparkled with his face, his presence. For once, it did not feel suffocating. It felt… earned.

    Then the vehicle slowed, pulling to a stop before a vast entrance framed with radiant holo-banners. Already, a crowd had gathered. Darkners of all shapes and colors lined the barriers, their eyes shining with anticipation. As soon as the car doors opened, cheers rolled through the air like thunder.

     Tenna froze for a heartbeat.

    Then he stepped out.

    The noise swelled. Arms stretched toward him, voices overlapping, laughter and chants filling the night. Signs glittered with his name, crude drawings of his screen. It was weird, but when Mike nudged him from behind, Tenna moved. Tenna felt his static spike with panic... then soften with something else entirely. Warmth. Pride.

    He waved. One claw, then both, awkward at first but quickly finding rhythm. His tail betrayed him, swishing behind as if dancing to the cheers. For the first time, he let it. Mike was by his side unnoticed by the world, but to Tenna, he was there, and that was what mattered to him.

    By the time he reached the door, his chest buzzed with something stronger than nerves. He bowed his head once, silent thanks, before the guards let him inside.

    The studio was quieter, but the weight of anticipation was no less heavy. Walls of black and silver framed the hallways, lights glowing steadily overhead. Staff scurried past with clipboards and earpieces, bowing or stammering when they caught sight of him.

    Tenna was guided to a dressing room, its mirror surrounded by pale bulbs that hummed softly. He lowered himself into the chair, claws resting lightly on the table. His reflection stared back... for a moment, he almost didn’t recognize the figure looking back at him.

     A knock.

    The door creaked open, and a Cyber City darkner stepped inside, a crisp headset perched atop their head. Their smile was steady, but their hands fidgeted with the clipboard they carried.

    “Mr. Tenna.” They said, voice edged with awe. “We will be starting in a few minutes. The stage is ready.”

    Tenna nodded, slow and deliberate. He rose, the mirror lights catching the edge of his blue suit as he straightened it one final time.

    “Thank you.” He said simply, his voice low and even.

    The darkner bowed, retreating. Tenna looked at his reflection once more. His claws flexed. His antenna flicked. His smile sharpened.

     It was time.

    The hallway stretched ahead, glowing faintly. He walked it steadily, every step echoing in time with the thrum of his static. At the end of the passage, the stage lights pulsed, a low roar of voices just beyond the curtains.

    The darkner with the clipboard reappeared, gesturing. “This way, Mr. Tenna.”

    He followed.

    The curtain loomed before him, heavy and dark, quivering with the vibrations of the crowd beyond. His claws hovered at his sides, tail curling tightly then loosening. He could hear it. The audience murmuring, the anticipation building, the host’s voice warming them up.

    "You got, superstar!" Mike squeezed Tenna’s shoulders to calm his nerves, and Tenna put one claw on his shoulder. He squeezed the signal and breathed out, letting out some steam from his fans.

    A signal came. The curtain would rise. Tenna let down his claw, and Mike brushed one last time before letting him go. He was ready...

    Tenna took a breath, static flickering bright across his screen.

 

     He stepped forward.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

     The interview was going great.

    When the curtain rose, Tenna was met with cheers, voices, and smiles from the audience. The interviewer had greeted him, announced him, and Tenna had bowed, cracking some jokes.

    Laughter rippled through the crowd. The first minutes went smoothly, questions about his shows, his inspirations, his favorite moments on set. Tenna answered with poise, tails flickering in rhythm, even tossing in small jokes that sent bursts of laughter through the audience. He was dazzling, not just a host, not just a performer, but both, as he was meant to be. He could do this. Not just in his studio, but here, on the world’s stage.

    The interviewer smiled wider, sensing the momentum. They seemed to know what they were doing, trying to catch a lead. Their tone shifted, polite but edged.

    “Mr. Antenna, I think everyone is wondering something a little… peculiar.” They tapped their pen against their notes, head tilting. “You’re a television. And yet, you stand here, talk, walk, and even perform. Normally, your kind are… well, feral.   So tell me... how does a TV hold itself together?”

    Tenna didn’t falter. He had practiced this. He saw from the corner of his screen Mike from the backstage area nodding at him, telling him he got it.

    His static hummed steadily, smile unwavering. “A broken signal is only noise...” He said smoothly, knowing where to move the conversation.“...but with the right channel, the right will… even static can become music. That’s how I stand. That’s how I keep myself together.”

    The audience applauded softly, impressed, but the interviewer did not move on. They leaned forward, eyes sharp.

    “Of course, of course.” They said. “A poetic answer, Mr. Antenna. But you and I both know what’s usually said about TVs. They are feral, attention-starved, wild things. Always fighting for the spotlight. Always thirsty for the eyes on them. Tell me, Mr Antenna... how are you any different?”

    A ripple passed through the crowd, murmurs fluttering like static.

    Tenna’s grin glimmered across his screen, not falling for it. Mike looked pleased as Tenna could feel his waves from where he was sitting.

     “Sometimes, things change!” He said lightly, his voice carrying the ring of a practiced reply. “Not every story follows the same signal. Not every creature stays what the world expects them to be.”

    The interviewer leaned closer, relentless. “But isn’t that the will of the world? That things remain as they are? Feral things stay feral. Static drowns itself out. Isn’t that just… the nature of it all?”

    The words hit Tenna like a cold pulse.

     The will of the world.

    He remembered the human’s voice, calm, merciless, telling him that again and again. He remembered the times Mike had said it too, with half a laugh but with weight behind it. His static fuzzed, faint and uneven, and his tail curled tight around itself unseen by everyone.

    Backstage, Mike straightened. He saw it, the momentary crack in Tenna’s signal, the falter. That damn interviewer wanted a scoop... and they would try to take it with whatever means necessary. His waves flickered brighter as he expanded his body in a steadying gesture.

     "You already have the answer." He yelled, knowing that no one would listen to him but Tenna.

    Tenna’s screen tilted just slightly, his gaze flicking to him. Then, slowly, he nodded. When he turned back to the audience, the static behind his smile was steadier, brighter.

    “The world has its will, yes.” Tenna said, raising one gloved hand. “But when someone has true determination... they can change it. Not just for themselves, but for everyone.”

    His glass caught the lights, reflecting the audience back at themselves. “Look at you. How many of you have hidden in the shadows, convinced the world demanded it? And yet here you are. You are here. Because something changed. Because you have the will to stand, to be seen.”

    Murmurs broke into applause. Then into cheers. Darkners in the crowd stood taller, some with their eyes shining, some clapping, some even stepping out from the edges of the stage seating as though drawn closer. Tenna knew how they felt. He was in their shoes, he had experienced the way of the world so many times. It had changed for the better.

    “This is what makes us unique.” Tenna pressed, voice rising above the noise. “Not that we obey the world’s script... but that we have the will to rewrite it.”

    The crowd roared. The interviewer clapped slowly, expression unreadable. They waited until the noise dipped just enough, then leaned forward again, pen tapping once more.

     “A bold answer, Mr. Antenna. Inspiring, even.” Their smile returned, sharp as a blade. “But if that’s true… then why didn’t you answer your invitation for so long? Why ignore our letter? Was it not fear that kept you away? Fear of being seen? If you truly believe in rewriting the world, isn’t hiding the same as surrendering to it?”

    The room shifted. Cheers softened into uneasy whispers. All eyes turned back to Tenna. He swore he could feel Mike trying to eat his waves.

    His mouth flickered on the glass, a sharp line biting down as though he were holding his breath. Inside, he was biting it, his static sparking hotter with annoyance, with the edge of panic. He wanted to lash out, to hiss, but every eye was on him. The interviewer’s grin widened. They wanted this. They wanted the scoop.

     They wanted to see Tenna crack.

    His tails coiled tight, his claws twitching inside his gloves. The words were sharp...

 

     Why didn’t you answer?

    Weren’t you afraid?

 

    It was a chokehold. His light dimmed, and the audience seemed to lean in, their stares like weight pressing him down. They would think he was a coward. They would see him as something else. Something wrong.

    Time itself seemed to freeze. His jaw twitched. He wanted to argue, to spit sparks back at the interviewer...

     But then he saw it.

    A glimpse in the audience, just rows back.

     The white Addison. Their hands clutched around that little scrap of paper he had signed, the one with his messy, shimmering autograph. They were staring up at him, eyes wide and proud. His first fan. The first one who had believed.

    Tenna’s screen flickered. He couldn’t let that be broken.

    And then, further back, he saw them.

    The human. Standing almost casually, a faint smile on their lips, as if to say that he already knew the answer. Tenna’s static softened. His tails unwound, his screen brightened. Relief washed through him like a warm broadcast.

 

     They had come.

 

                         They had come for him.

 

                                                           They believed in him... and he wouldn't change that now!

 

    He exhaled, a sound like a sigh of tuning static. Then, quietly, he nodded toward the human, saying his thanks. Yes. He had the answer.

    Tenna turned, a smile spreading across his screen. “You’re right...” He said, voice smooth, steady now. “I didn’t answer that letter.”

    A murmur ran through the crowd. The interviewer’s grin sharpened until Tenna rose from his seat and twirled. The movement was liquid, dazzling, his coat tails flaring. His stars flared out around him, scattering like sparks, shimmering in rainbow hues. The tails of his tailcoat slipped aside, letting his true tails spill free, shimmering, glowing with the rainbow the stars had painted on. The light bent with his spin, as if the stars themselves highlighted every step, every flicker of motion.

    And when he stopped, facing the audience again, his screen now bore something new. That iconic, comical nose he had once made for Kris. A symbol of play, of joy, of defiance against the expected.

    The room erupted. Cheers, laughter, whistles.

    “Not because I didn’t want to be seen...” Tenna declared, arms wide, screen gleaming with his grin. “But because I wanted to make this just right.”

    The stars around him shimmered brighter, dancing like stage lights.

     “Presentation, after all, is a key to success!” He beamed, voice vibrant. “Even though I am a TV... I am not just a TV. I am Mr Antenna!” He flicked his tail around the coat, creating a rainbow flourish.

     “I am groovy and never gloomy! Say it with me, folks!" He paused, and the audience was enraptured.

     "IT'S TV TIME!!!"

    Tenna’s static hummed steadily, bright, letting the audience celebrate with him. He turned, smiling at the interviewer, his stance unbroken. The interviewer watched him but finally smiled with defeat and clapped for Tenna. He didn't just get a scoop, he had the whole story.

    Mike was twirling around himself in the backstage area, showing his relief, and he danced to the rhythm of the audience singing Tenna’s theme song. The stars danced as well around Tenna, showing their happiness, keeping Tenna under the spotlight.

    A spotlight that wasn’t suffocating him anymore. It was making him shine.

 

    Tenna had made it!

 

     He had shown the world what he was!

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    The cheers of the crowd, the blinding light of the stage, the applause that drowned in warmth this world... made the sticker sick.

    He used to have them also, being someone important, someone to gaze at, someone who helped others see their worth. He was called a curse, sure, but he knew what he did. He helped others achieve their dreams... his colors were attention-seeking, bringing deals and old things towards the spotlight...

    They were echoes now.

     Fading...

    Shadows began to creep along the corners of his body. Not sharp, not sudden, but slow, steady, like dusk swallowing the horizon. Each day that passed, Fifty found his body dimming a little more, transforming into something better, stronger, his thoughts slipping further into silence.

    And as he fell deeper into that quiet, he had the strangest sensation... a cruel smile crossed his face.

    He wasn’t just falling into darkness.

    But rising… rising toward something blinding.

    Toward heaven.

 

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

 

    Days passed since the interview.

    Tenna was shining brighter than ever. His shows now had more viewers, with his signal reaching further than he ever thought possible. He had become a small celebrity, not just a performer or a host, but a name that darkners recognized. Wherever he went, there were smiles, whispers, and even cheers.

    He had made it big with the interview, as he had heard gossip saying that not only had he managed to hold his patience, but he also had turned it around. The interviewer was impressed with him, and he had given his hands to him, apologizing, but Tenna only smiled at him. He wanted a scoop. Tenna was glad he had given him one.

    One afternoon, he found himself stopped by the white Addison, the very first one who had ever asked for his autograph. They had managed to create a small space to their workplace, and Tenna could feel how many deals the Addison had managed to do. They seemed happy, and when they had seen him again, they had welcomed him with open arms. The Addison held still the autograph close like a treasure, their eyes gleaming.

     “Thank you!” They said earnestly. “For making me see I could rewrite my story! It made me believe I could! And now... I am doing it!”

    Tenna froze for a moment, touched deeper than he expected. His tail flickered nervously, but his smile stayed steady. “…No. Thank you. You were the first who believed in me.”

    Tenna was on the verge of tears that day, happy tears. He didn't know he played that much of a role in the other darkners... but he did. He had thanked the Addison , had told them that they were the one who made the change. But the Addison just smiled, telling him that it was he who did it first. He just followed. Tenna was overwhelmed... he would come by that shop again soon!

    Later, Seam greeted him at his shop, raising a paw in amusement. He was ecstatic over Tenna’s interview as he had seen it unfold piece by piece. He was impressed by Tenna’s calm and quick thinking, as was Tenna also. The outfit was the best plot twist, he had said, and Tenna could feel his tail wag at the compliment. Seam also seemed to like Tenna’s nose, which Tenna had hidden for the time being, and commented on it.

    “My, my. You’ve become the talk of the dark worlds!” Seam chuckled. “The world applauded your words, and you still walk around in that same old coat, hiding your lovely face. But I see now... ah , it’s not to hide from fear anymore, is it? It’s to hide from your fans, right, Mr Tenna?”

    Tenna laughed awkwardly, tugging at his collar. “…Something like that.”

    “You have changed the world." Seam said warmly. “You should be proud.”

     Tenna was! He had done it! He had managed to hold himself upright in the interview, and he shone brighter than before. His Lightners were safe, his shows were strong. By all measures, he had succeeded. And yet...

    He still had no darkners. Not one.

    His world seemed to dim slightly as well, which Tenna didn't understand why. Mike hadn't felt it as well as his stars, but he did. He knew the will of his fountain. It was brighter than this... his antennas were also agreeing with him, which meant that something was indeed happening. What though?

    One long evening, after a successful show, with his Lightners laughing and Kris watching him with delight, he had decided to walk around his world. He felt his antennas buzzing, telling him that whatever was happening was stronger than before. Tenna had started his surveying around his world, still protecting it from TVs, when he had felt movement close by.

    He was genuinely surprised to find none other than the small cloud, playing with the snow. It had seen him, and Tenna froze so as not to scare it again, but this time the cloud had come closer, observing him. After some time, it would circle Tenna’s antennas to play with them. It giggled in each rotation, and Tenna could only smile at it.

    It was still hesitant over Tenna, since after all, his tail and the rain it produced weren't compatible, but it was warming up to him. And that was what mattered. Now in each survey he did, the cloud would join him, other times circling him, other times sleeping in his head, and other times being the one that Tenna followed. It would sometimes appear inside the studio, after his Lightners would linger in the weather channel, but it seemed to stay outside the studio more.

     Which was weird. It seemed that the cloud sensed something inside. It would grimace when it stayed inside and started shaking after a while. Tenna didn't like this. He needed the cloud to feel the studio as its home. He needed to investigate this.

    It was a start, but Tenna could feel warmth coming from his heart each time he met it. After all, it was his darkner.

 

     His very first one.

 

 

     He didn't want to lose it.

 

 

    It was during another quiet evening when he went to Cyber City with Mike to attend business. He had put his coat again and closed his screen, not wanting to steer the crowd again. He needed peace for today, and Mike couldn't agree more. That's when a familiar sound talked to him. The human.

    "Locking into business, I see." They would laugh, and Mike, next to him, would be surprised.

     "You know him? " He would ask, and Tenna would nod.

    Tenna hesitated only a moment before nodding to the human. His antennas flickered faintly, his coat swaying as he shifted nervously.

    “Yes. I have so much work to do.” He smiled at the human, but both he and Mike knew where he was going. To the bar...

    The human smiled at him warmly, tilting their head. “Good. Then maybe we can talk a little more privately?”

    Tenna blinked, glancing sideways at Mike. He didn’t want to leave him out, but… how could he explain? He fumbled for an excuse, but before he could speak, the human continued with a knowing grin.

    “You don’t have to hide it. I can feel it.” They tapped their chest lightly. “Static. Waves. It’s like a… hum that follows you. Someone’s here, isn’t there? If they want… they can show themselves.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered for a second, his surprise nearly breaking through his composure. Mike, however, froze entirely. The radio wave was now dead silent, like his signal had dropped.

      “…You felt me?” Mike’s voice was low, hesitant, crackling faintly like a distant station barely tuned. “No one ever feels me. Not directly.”

    Tenna’s face softened into a smile. “He is here... in flesh... not hiding. That's his true form."

    The human's eyes would widen at that. "Really? Just not like any darkner I have ever met. So, he is static?"

    "Signal!" Mike would make his waves a little sharper to show the human that they were wrong. The human noticed and chuckled.

     "So no."

    “This is Mike. He’s my producer. My friend. My signal. He’s the one who’s kept me alive when I was falling apart. The one who believed in me before anyone else did.” Tenna affirmed, his tail flicking proudly.

    Mike stayed quiet for a moment, and if he had a body, Tenna was sure he would be covering his face.

     “…You didn’t have to say it like that.” He muttered, voice warm but wavering.

    The human nodded with a huge smile in their feeling for how much Mike meant to Tenna. Finally, he watched him seriously.

    “Then I will trust him, too. But… if you really trust him, then he deserves the truth.”

    Tenna tilted his head, confused. “The truth…?”

    Mike’s signal crackled sharply. “Wait. Which truth?”

    That's when Tenna understood. He finally said to Mike who the human was and what they had done for him. As he was explaining everything to the signal, he would feel irritation and later warmth coming from him. He didn’t like how the human had fought Tenna before, but he understood why he did it.

     After all, he was the myth that helped Tenna move on.

    "I would have never thought of seeing a human being the myth! Colored me surprised." He finally said as they had made their way up and watched the Cyber City from above.

    "Not that they are the protector?" Tenna would ask, and Mike would chuckle.

    "I can see it. After all, they are a Lightner and Lightners can seal the fountain if they want to."

     "Seal the fountain?"

    "Mike seems to know more than they seemed to be." The human warned the signal, and Mike hesitated.

    "One day he will understand it." He simply said as he brushed the human. The human seemed to understand what Mike wanted to tell them, as the human continued the conversation.

    The human’s gaze lingered on Tenna, steady. Their voice was low, calm, yet carrying a weight that made Tenna’s antennas buzz uneasily.

    “Tenna… you should take a closer look at your world.”

    Tenna shifted, his coat tightening around him. His antennas flickered again, restless. “…I have felt something. Faint. Wrong. But I don’t know what it is.”

    The human nodded, their eyes narrowing. “That’s the problem. You don’t feel it clearly. But I do.”

    Tenna froze, tail stiff. “You do…?”

    The human’s hand flexed at their side, like they were brushing away a phantom touch. “Shadows. Familiar ones. They are already playing in your world. But you...” They pointed gently to Tenna’s chest “...you don’t feel them as you should. You are its protector. That should be impossible.”

    Mike let out a gasp, his voice sharp. “They are right. If something is crawling inside your world, you should have felt it ages ago. After all, you are territorial. But… now... you don't.”

    Tenna’s heart thumped hard. He swallowed, his screen flickering faintly. “I… I don’t understand.”

    The human hesitated, watching his expression. "Something is stopping you, Tenna. Something is blocking you from gaining your darkners.”

    Tenna's chest tightened, his antennas went stiff. He hadn't mentioned the problem he was facing, which meant that the human had noticed something after their deep conversation.

    The human nodded firmly, as if reading the thought right out of him. “…You are still wondering why, aren’t you? Why have no darkners appeared for you? Why your fountain feels weaker. Something is keeping them away.”

    The human frowned. “I can’t feel exactly what it is… but I know it isn’t native to your world. It’s foreign. Alien. That’s why I can sense it, but you can’t.”

    Tenna’s pupils widened, static running faint across his screen. His mind snapped to a single thought, and the name tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

     “…Could it be…”

    Mike’s signal buzzed sharply, jagged like broken glass. His voice wavered between anger and dread. “…Fifty.”

 

 

 

      -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna’s return to his studio was unusually quiet. The further he walked, the heavier his chest felt, each step carrying him closer to the place he had avoided for so long.

     The Z-rank room.

    Now, though, as he drifted toward it, Tenna could feel it calling. A pull, deep and insidious, tugging at his antennas and tail, whispering in his static. Calling him to come and welcome the dark...

    Tenna walked slowly, almost hypnotized by the pull. The closer he drew, the sharper the sensation grew, until his antennas sparked painfully, sending jolts of static across his body. He stumbled, clutching his head with a soft cry. This was too painful to ignore as Tenna put his hand on a wall to hold himself up. This was the first time the antennas shocked him that hard. It was like they were hitting him, telling him to wake up. Which he did... because...

     Something soft collided with his side.

    Tenna lightened up his screen as he tried to collect his thoughts and calm his breath. He looked by his side, feeling a small sting as whatever had collided by his side had hurt him as well.

     The little cloud.

    It struck him with a puff of damp air, circling him frantically, sparks of rain trailing in its wake. It pulsed with distress, letting out a high, whimpering hum as it pushed at him, again and again, trying to force him away from the Z-rank room door. It was too insistent, which surprised Tenna.

     “Cloudy...? What...” Tenna’s voice trembled. Then he saw it.

    The fog in its body was darker than usual. Stained. When he looked closer, he realized... it wasn’t the cloud’s fog at all. It was seeping from the crack of the Z-rank room door, faint wisps of shadow curling outward.

    Tenna’s screen flickered in shock. This was not good. Suddenly, his antennas once again shocked him, telling him to focus. Tenna, now annoyed, tried to understand what they wanted for him. The cloud continued to hit him, trying to make him move, and when he tried to shove it aside, he noticed his forearm.

    Tenna’s screen flickered violently. His antennas buzzed like alarms, sparks biting into his skin. His forearm lit up with a flashing red signal, one he had never seen so bright before.

    His heart lurched. This wasn’t just static. This wasn’t just his paranoia.

     Someone was inside his world.

    Tenna staggered back from the Z-rank room door, his chest rattling with static. The red signal still flashed across his forearm, pulsing like a heartbeat. His cloud zipped in circles around him, letting out distressed crackles of static rain, refusing to leave his side.

    The studio felt colder now. His every step echoed as he moved outside, antennas twitching violently as if the air itself was thick with danger.

    That’s when he heard someone speak behind him.

     “...So you feel it too.”

    Mike. Tenna hadn't paid him any attention from the moment they had returned back to the studio, he was too focused on Fifty, but now...

    “Something’s in here. Something real bad.”

    Tenna didn’t respond. His focus was sharpened, heavy static grinding in his throat as he tried to pinpoint it. He closed his eyes, listening. Mike followed behind, as well as the cloud, which still circled him more frequently than before. As he walked outside in the snow, he tried to focus, feel where the intruder was. They were dangerous since now everyone was feeling uneasy.

    The cloud finally pressed against his chest, trembling. He held it close, feeling protective suddenly. And then, his whole body stiffened. His heart nearly stalled.

     That aura.

    He had felt it before. A suffocating weight, a shadow so thick. It was the same darkness he had sensed back when he had first stumbled into this world. He roared as a warning, but he knew it was to no avail...

    Before Mike could ask anything, the sky above split. A great tearing sound echoed through the snow as the snowflakes stilled in the air for a moment longer. As time itself had stopped.

    And from it... blazing spears of starlight rained down.

 

     The Knight!

 

    Tenna grabbed the cloud harder, clutching it tight against his chest, and darted forward. His legs moved on instinct, his tail whipping behind him as he swerved and dashed, the spears slamming into the ground with earth-shaking roars. Sparks and dust filled the air, the spears touching the ground under the snow as if the world itself would collapse.

    The same attack. The very same he had barely dodged on the first day he had arrived here.

    But he wasn’t the same anymore.

    With one last burst, Tenna rolled through the final impact, the stars exploding behind him in a deafening boom. Dust clouded the air, smoke rising high.

    And then... silence.

    Tenna rose slowly, his screen blazing white with fury. The knight was nowhere to be seen. A worrying sight. The cloud now in his antennas stayed in them, circling them. Its small cloud body seemed to be drowned by the static they emitted, which Tenna was thankful for. He wanted the cloud to stay there as he didn't want to worry about it.

    A growl came out of him, force of habit. His antennas sparked, his tail lashed violently. Mike had circled him as well, searching the intruder.

     "This isn't good!" The signal said as he turned around. "What is the knight doing? Didn't they let you off?"

    Tenna didn't know what to answer Mike. The strange entity had told him that they would meet again, but he didn't think it would be that way. Whatever the cause, Tenna needed to focus.

    The cloud froze suddenly, its tiny body quivering in Tenna’s antennas. It pulsed a sharp shock against his screen. Tenna’s eyes widened. He didn’t think, he moved! His body twisted just as a blinding streak of silver carved through the snow, cleaving the space where his chest had been a heartbeat ago.

    Mike chuckled in disbelief. “That cloud...! It knew before you did!”

    Tenna’s teeth clenched, static rolling down his frame. Despite the danger, his mouth curled faintly. “Told you… my darkner’s special.”

    The cloud hummed proudly, pressing tighter into his sparking antennas. The knight lunged again as it finally revealed itself. The same sparking orb appeared, and it started to move rapidly around, without rhythm. Another slash tore forward that split the frost beneath their feet. But this time, Tenna was ready. He darted sideways, guided by the cloud’s urgent pull, sparks exploding at his heels. His claws whipped out, static wrapped around them, and with one precise strike, he met the knight’s swing.

    The impact split the air. A shockwave of light burst outward, shredding the snowstorm around them and hitting the knight. They pulsed angrily, the orb cracked, expanding, light searing brighter and brighter... until with a violent scream, the shell ripped apart.

     They were getting serious.

    The ground around them warped with power, as if reality bent to their will. They screamed louder than before, a warning to Tenna and a declaration of war if he continued.

    Mike’s static quivered. “Tenna... they are serious!”

    As a response, Tenna’s feral side broke loose. A low growl rumbled from his chest, static crackling across his antennas, his tail whipping like a live wire. He grew a little taller, letting out his animalistic body as he stood on all fours now. The cloud seemed shocked at it, never seeing his feral side before, but it stayed on his antennas.

     Trusting him.

    “Go.” His voice came out sharp, commanding. He turned to Mike. “Get above. Watch the field. Use your waves if they slip past me.”

    Mike hesitated, static flashing uncertainly. “...You sure?”

    Tenna didn’t take his screen off the Knight. His antennas blazed white, his stance feral. “Now.”

    Mike gave a sharp nod and bolted upward, light streaking into the snowy skies. From above, his signals began to pulse outward, tracing arcs of warning through the storm.

    And then, only Tenna and the knight remained. The knight raised their sword, stars burning along the edge. The earth trembled as they lunged, swinging down with a roar of cosmic force.

    Tenna met them, his claws alive with static, sparks tearing through the frozen ground as he deflected. The collision shook his arms to the core, but he held, pushing back with a snarl that echoed through the field.

    They were locked in combat for a while, Tenna losing in it. The cloud seemed to hesitate when Tenna got hit hard in the arm, but it finally bolted up and then down, meeting the knight’s sword. The sword left its owner as it fell several meters away, leaving the knight defenseless. The cloud swirled around, ready to hit the knight again, but Tenna knew how this would not dismay the knight, as sure enough, there was another attack. The familiar sharp teeth were ready to consume the cloud.

    Tenna lunged, not thinking, grabbing the cloud, but the teeth met his shoulder. He hissed at the pain, but he held the cloud tighter as he tried to land without straining his shoulder.

     He failed.

    He fell down hard, feeling blood coming out of his shoulder. He hissed at the pain as he felt his shoulder dislocated. Thank the fountain, he had let out his animalistic body as he managed to bolt away from another teeth attack. Tenna felt his fan working overtime as he tried to maintain some speed, but the pain was too much to ignore.

    He could feel the upcoming attack, and he tried to minimize the damage.

 

     But none came...

                          His stars!

                                    They had come! Just in time!

 

    He looked as many had let out their starlight tail, keeping the teeth open, helping Tenna escape. Some followed Tenna healing his shoulder, and others got the cloud to follow them, giving Tenna a breather for a minute. He could see something covering him, a familiar fog.

     Mike.

    The knight attacked the stars, trying to advance to Tenna, but thanks to them and the fog Mike provided, they would need some time to get to him. Tenna’s screen let out small, broken bursts of light. His shoulder throbbed violently, his vision swimming in flickers. He wasn't doing well...

    The cloud pressed against his cheek, trembling hard, as if begging him not to move again. But Tenna’s claws dug deep into the earth.

     He couldn’t stop.

     Not now.

    His stars screamed in the distance, their light colliding against the knight’s relentless advance, desperate to buy him time. But one by one, they were struck down, forced to scatter. The knight didn’t even falter, their burning eyes stayed locked past Tenna, toward the studio.

    Mike’s voice split the air from above, panic twisting his signal. “Tenna! They’re not after you! They want the studio!”

    Tenna froze, static searing in his chest. His tail lashed violently, his growl warping into something bitter and sharp.

    “What...?” His voice cracked, broken between rage and disbelief.

    Not him? Not the protector? Not the host who fought, who bled, who earned his world?

    “Then why... why won’t they face me!?” Tenna bellowed, his tail lashing violently through the snow.

    But then it hit him.

    The aura. That same suffocating darkness that clung to the knight’s form, twisting it, drowning it. It was... the same seeping from the Z-rank room, wrapping itself around Fifty’s fading presence.

    The knight wasn’t ignoring him.

     They were bound. Drawn by the shadows that had claimed Fifty.

    Tenna staggered, his screen flickering with shock as he stared into the knight.

    “They came... for him...” Tenna whispered, the words glitching, breaking apart like shattering glass. His hands trembled as he raised them again, his fury shifting into something heavier...

     Fear.

    Because if the knight had come for Fifty, then whatever darkness had taken root in him... was powerful enough to summon a monster like this.

    Tenna’s screen flickered, the truth burning in him like static overload. His claws tore at the ground as he lunged again, feral, desperate, roaring through the storm, passing his stars. The knight met him without hesitation, their speed multiplying. Their form split into streaks of light, each slash leaving afterimages.

     “Tenna!” Mike’s cry was desperate now. “They will tear you apart! STOP!”

    He barely heard him. Every strike drove deeper into his body, every clash shook him raw. His fan screamed, overworked. His body sparked violently, his tail lagging behind. The knight pressed harder, overwhelming him, every swing aiming not to test, not to threaten...

     ...but to end.

    The stars dove to his side, trying to shield him again, but the knight’s blade cut their light away like paper. They tumbled, shattering across the snow in fragments.

     “No!” Tenna’s roar was guttural, broken, as he stumbled between them and the blade. He snarled at his stars, voice sharp, commanding. “Leave!”

    They hesitated, glowing faintly, trembling with the will to fight.

     “NOW!” His cries bled through the storm, desperate.

    The stars pulsed once... sorrowfully...   before their lights scattered upward, disappearing into the storm.

    Tenna dropped to his knees, his chest heaving, blood and static dripping into the snow. The cloud clung to his antennas, weeping soft crackles, its little body vibrating with fear.

    It was fast... Tenna didn't notice it. He had seen the slash, and then pain overcame him.

    The snow steamed where Tenna had fallen, his screen dim and cracked with static burns. The cloud pressed itself into his side, trembling hard, while Mike finally came down and crouched beside him, torn between shielding him and screaming his rage at the knight.

    “Mike... Cloudy... leave me.” Tenna rasped, claws digging into the ground as his tail sparked. “Go.”

    They both refused, clinging tighter. Mike’s signal shivered with a harsh NO, and the cloud whimpered in small crackles. But Tenna grabbed them both, forcing them toward the shadows. His voice cracked with pain, yet his tone burned with command.

     “GO!”

 

    The knight loomed closer, blade gleaming. Their shadow stretched over Tenna’s broken form, and for one heart-stopping instant, he understood this was it.

     The end.

    The sword came down...

 

    And stopped, caught in a blinding streak of red.

    The ground split beneath the shockwave as a figure stepped forward, hand burning with an otherworldly glow. Their blade, shimmering with light so sharp it pierced the storm, held the knight at bay. With one sweeping slash, they hurled the knight backward, shards of their armor scattering into the snow.

    Tenna’s eyes widened, his screen flickering erratically as static fizzed from his tail.

     “You...!” His voice cracked, disbelief trembling in it. “You told me you couldn’t... you said you couldn’t come into my world!”

    The human turned, smiling faintly through the glow. Their presence was solid, real, the air itself bending to their aura.

    “I couldn’t... before. But I found a way. A gateway. Small, fragile... but I felt it. Loud and clear.”

    The human knelt by his side, their hand pulsing with warmth as they brushed over his broken chest. A radiant glow surged through him, knitting his cracks, soothing the sparks in his antennas, repairing what the knight’s blade had shattered.

    Tenna gasped, chest rising sharply as strength flooded back into him. He stared at the human, static, frozen in awe.

    “Thank... thank you."

    The human only smiled, calm and steady. But their voice was suddenly commanding, harsh, deadly.

    “Stand down, Tenna. This fight wasn't yours to begin with. What waits beyond them is darker, stronger. A broken signal.”

    For once, Tenna didn’t argue. His claws clenched, but his screen lowered as he nodded, backing away. The stars blinked back into existence around him, circling protectively, while Mike and the cloud rushed to his side, pressing against him. Tenna could only watch them, relieved and thankful at having them.

     He wasn't alone.

    The human turned back toward the knight, blade humming in their grip. The knight steadied themselves, their shadow writhing with fury. The human’s voice was jagged, dripping with venom.

    “...Cold shoulder as always.” Their blade trembled as they advanced. “Not only did they take it from me... but you help them keep it. Why? To achieve what?!”

    No answer.

    “I see you are still weak. Unable to fight. How would you uphold the prophecy when I only see weakness!”

     The knight roared.

    Their blades clashed, sparks splitting the sky. The knight’s fury lashed like a storm, strikes raining down with a force that rattled the world itself. But the human’s red aura only grew brighter, their movements sharper, faster, overwhelming.

    The human drove them back, eyes burning with certainty.

    “Pathetic really... you are clinging to darkness, but I can see through you. You are a puppet... still!”

    The knight froze, then let out a scream that cracked the storm apart. Their aura blackened, their body twisting as they lunged with renewed fury. But every strike was caught, every desperate lash turned away.

    The human’s glow roared brighter, their blade slashing once more, shattering the knight’s advance. The shadows screamed, flaring wide as the knight staggered.

    A strange sound was heard around them, too demanding, too loud, and to the knight it was a wake-up call. They seemed to hesitate in their advances as they would stare at the human before lunging again. The human didn’t hesitate as they lifted the hand slowly towards the knight and pointed at them. Finally, the sound stopped as every single one around them, and finally a white flash appeared in the world. Striking the knight.

     The fight ended in silence.

    The knight’s body split apart, their shadowy armor caving in under the final strike. Smoke hissed upward as if the darkness itself was evaporating, curling into the sky and fading away. What was left crumbled like ash, scattering into the snow.

    The human lowered their hand, chest heaving once. They looked down at the place where their strike had landed... and saw something gleam faintly among the ash.

    They bent down, picked it up, and for a moment it flickered in their hand. The glow caught Tenna’s screen, a reflection of something sacred. But before anyone else could notice, the human quickly closed their fingers over it and tucked it away, hidden.

    Then, with a slow, deliberate breath, they turned back toward Tenna. Their expression softened, the red glow dimming. They gave him a simple nod .

    Tenna slumped back against the snow, static breaking into a long sigh of relief. Around him, the stars blinked and spun joyfully. Mike raised his waves with a cheer, and even the little cloud buzzed happily, bouncing against his claws.

    The human crouched at Tenna’s side, their glow fading to nothing but warmth.

     “You...” Tenna rasped, staring at them, the static almost trembling. “You’re incredible. Really... I hope I never end up on the other side of the coin with you.” His screen flickered into a faint, awkward grin. “Heh. Wouldn’t want to be that fool.”

    The human chuckled, brushing snow off their arm. “Then you are lucky you are on this side.”

    Mike continued, still brimming with restless energy. “But why was the knight here? What were they after?"

    The human’s expression turned grave, shadows crossing their eyes. “They were searching. For something. And trying to drag it into the darkness. A cold welcome...”

    Tenna’s antennas flickered nervously. “Wait, hold on. You can hear Mike?”

    Mike froze for a second as well. "You can hear me?"

    The human laughed softly, shaking their head. “Your signal here is stronger, Mike. Different. That’s why I can hear you.”

    Mike’s face lit up with ecstatic joy, bouncing in place like a sparkler. “You mean? You mean you get me?!”

    The human nodded, smiling. “Loud and clear.”

    Tenna, though, wasn’t paying attention to the conversation that continued. He held the small cloud closer to his chest, claws curled protectively. The little puff blinked wide, confused eyes up at the human, unsure.

    The human leaned closer, finally noticing it, their gaze softening.

    “And who’s this brave one?”

    The cloud jolted, puffing pink in embarrassment.

    Tenna looked down at it, a genuine smile flickering across his screen. His voice softened. “My first Darkner.”

    The words hung in the air like lightning.

    The human’s eyes widened, shock flashing bright in their glow.

     Tenna noticed the pause in the human’s face. The way their glow flickered caught between confusion and concern. His static crackled faintly as he tightened his grip on the little cloud.

    “Why... why are you looking at it like that?” His screen dimmed in a nervous frown. “What’s wrong with it?”

    The human bit their lip, hesitating. “I... can’t feel any energy from it.”

    Tenna’s claws trembled, pulling the cloud closer against his chest as if to shield it from those words. The puff blinked up at him.

    “W-What does that mean?” He asked, fear breaking through his static. “It’s not... It’s not going to die, is it?”

    The human shook their head, but their voice carried a grave weight. “They don’t emit anything. Not like Mike. Not like your stars. It’s... as if they’ve been cut. Not complete.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered with confusion. He looked at the cloud, then back to the human, his voice breaking. “Cut? What do you mean?”

    Mike leaned forward quickly, waves buzzing with worry. “What are you saying? It looks like a darkner. I mean... it must be, right? The weather channel created them!”

    The human lifted their hand slightly. At once, the cloud shrank in Tenna’s claws, shivering with fear, puffing in and out. The little puff looked at Tenna with wide eyes, as though asking if it was safe.

    The human’s voice softened. “May I?”

    Tenna froze, staring down at his trembling companion. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a small smile flickering on his screen, he whispered gently to the puff. “It’s okay.”

    The cloud hesitated, then slowly relaxed, bobbing once as if nodding. Tenna opened his claws.

    The human laid their hand carefully on the little cloud. Immediately, a faint shimmer of sparks danced out between them. The puff let out a soft hum, curling closer into Tenna’s claws.

    Tenna’s screen brightened in wonder. He could feel it now... faint but there the little cloud’s presence pulsing stronger, clearer.

    The human smiled faintly, pulling their hand back. “They are a darkner... but... still weak. Not ready to stand on their own yet.”

    Mike leaned forward eagerly. “So they will change? Grow stronger?”

    The human nodded. “Yes. They will. But...”

    The glow in their eyes dimmed again as they looked back at the puff who started to move around Tenna’s claws, happily in its world.

    “It seems... they are missing something. Another part. Like they are only half.”

    Mike’s waves stilled, his face tightening. “Half? You mean... like the other half of them is missing?”

    The human gave a reluctant nod.

 

    ...

 

    Tenna froze.

 

    His claws tightened instinctively around the cloud. His screen dimmed in shock as static hissed from his tail.

    “Like... fifty.... ” Tenna would start but stop.

    Mike, though, seemed to catch what Tenna wanted to say. “Only fifty percent of what they are meant to be.”

     The human nodded...

    In that moment, Tenna finally understood. His screen went pale. The stars around him dimmed. Mike’s waves became sharper at the realization, and the human seemed to be lost at the sudden change.

     Tenna was an idiot...

     Tenna thought he was his friend!

    Something or someone... was interfering with his world.

     "Fifty..." Tenna hissed the name of the sticker and now the human understood the meaning behind the word.

    His claw tightened on the snow until it cracked under the pressure.

     Fifty. He was the one who stopped him. Who cut him down the middle. Every step he made, every move he thought was his… he halved it. He thought of the graveyard. The Z-Rank room. Half of it... those were Fifty’s .

     Stolen .

    The memory of the constant interference, the first TV, his wires, the constant arguing, the way he had never told him about the petrification... the shadows crawling in the Z-rank room, the darkness catching in his studio, even that damn phone... flared in his mind. He had always been there. Always watching. Always controlling.

    And now... his darkners... he was stopping him from getting them.

 

     Enough!

 

     “He’s not taking anything else from me.”

    

 

 

     -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna stormed ahead, claws digging into the frozen ground, his antennas twitching with static fury. The others followed close behind... Mike’s waves were buzzing erratically, the human’s gaze steady but tense, the little cloud puffing faintly in Tenna’s antennas as if sensing the storm inside him.

    The Z-Rank room unfolded before them like a wound.

    The whole place pulsed as though alive. Old broadcast sounds seeped from every direction... laughter cut in half, screams chopped short, songs twisted into unrecognizable fragments. Burnt air choked Tenna’s screen, bitter and metallic, like broken wires scorched in fire. He noticed the slight shock the human showed, but the stance stayed the same, ready to face whatever they were after.

    At the far end of the room, rising like a jagged silhouette half-formed out of shadow and interference, he waited. The floor gave a nauseating bounce under Tenna’s steps, as though even the ground didn’t want him there. But Tenna didn’t care. His screen glowed with fury.

    Fifty hunched over the damn phone, shifting between sticker and shadow, his outline refusing to stay still. His laugh buzzed through the static, cutting into Tenna’s chest.

    Tenna’s voice cracked through the noise, louder than the warped broadcasts “What do you think you’re doing, Fifty?!”

    The figure looked up, shadows crawling down his face like spilled ink. His jagged grin stretched unnaturally.

    “What I have always been doing…” Fifty hissed, his voice breaking into radio distortion. “Reaching. Grasping. Trying to wrestle something bigger than all of you into my hands. Control. Freedom. Light.”

    His form shivered, flickering in and out, as if even he could not contain himself. The broken phone crackled in his grip, static bleeding from it into the air.

    The human stepped forward, their eyes dim but unwavering. Their voice was steady, cutting through the noise.

    “Whatever you are after… it’s wrong. That light you are chasing… it isn’t freedom. It’s a chain. It blinded you. Made you lose your way.”

    For a moment, the static stuttered.

    Then, Fifty screamed. His voice wasn’t a voice anymore, but a hundred voices layered... desperate, angry, pleading, bitter...tearing through the walls and making the static bleed white. Shadows erupted from him, devouring the edges of the room.

    It wasn’t him anymore... a faint idea, someone new...

    “You don’t KNOW!” He bellowed, his body warping further, a monstrous outline crawling out of his form. “You don’t KNOW what I’ve done! What I’ve SUFFERED! To make it talk to me! To hear it, just once... just once!”

    The room shuddered with his pain, with his hunger.

    Tenna’s claws sparked, his screen flashing white with rage.

    He knew what this was now.

    He had been halved, stolen, broken... so Fifty could beg the light to notice him.

    And he wasn’t letting it go any further.

     “STOP!” Tenna’s voice cracked like broken glass, his screen flashing white with fury. “Come back to us, Fifty! Come back... before it’s too late!”

    His antennas buzzed violently, the static pouring out like sparks, but then...

     ...poke.

    The little cloud pressed against his antennas, trembling. Its puff shrank back, as if warning him... this wasn’t the way.

    Mike’s waves brushed against Tenna, vibrating sharply with unease. A warning. A plea. And the human’s voice cut through, steady but heavy.

    “Tenna… this is over. He’s gone.”

    Tenna would hiss as he remembered what the human had said...

 

 

     'It is a matter of time and how...'

 

                                              ...dammit...

 

    The words struck deep. Static whined from Tenna’s tail as his claws tightened. His screen dimmed, glitching faintly as though refusing to process what he had heard. Gone? Just like that?

     “…No…” Tenna whispered, stepping forward again. His screen flickered desperately. “No! He’s still… he’s still my friend!”

    That single word tore the air apart.

    The Z-rank room lurched like an earthquake, the floor buckling beneath them. The walls of static convulsed violently, screens shattering in chorus, raining shards like glassy snow.

    Fifty staggered, his jagged outline twitching as shadows crawled down his body. His grin cracked too wide, his jaw unhinging, broken, stretching until it seemed ready to tear his head apart. A sound like laughter... no, something grinding into madness poured out of him.

    Wind howled through the chamber, whipping at them, tearing fragments of the walls into the storm. Tenna’s blinking light at his forearm snapped to life, searing, its glow harsh and blinding. Pain surged up his arm. Burning, biting, something other than the shadows. He hissed, his claws clutching it, static screaming from his chest.

    This… this wasn’t like the knight. This light was worse. More dangerous.

    But even as the burn spread, Tenna’s screen locked on Fifty. He couldn’t look away. The shadow swallowed him whole. His face twisted upside-down, contorted until it didn’t even look like him anymore. And then... he was gone beneath the flood of black.

    From inside the void, Fifty’s scream erupted.

    “FRIEND!? YOU CALL ME A FRIEND—WHO DARES YOU!!”

    The shadows exploded outward like a tidal wave, crashing against every surface. The human was thrown back, shielding their eyes. Mike’s waves shrieked with distortion. The cloud puff curled tight against Tenna’s neck, humming in terror. And then... the shadows surged, covering them all.

    The world collapsed, and in the blink of static, they were no longer inside the Z-rank.

    They were outside. Tenna’s screen blinked back into focus. He jolted upright, claws shaking, and darted his gaze around. Mike was ok, his waves trembling but whole. The human was dusty, their sword half-drawn, but unhurt. The cloud, puffed small, blinking, but still floating. His stars overhead were watching them.

    Tenna sighed in relief. They were safe. All of them. Finally, he looked back.

    The snow fell harder, but the shadows were stronger, overpowering them. A thin puddle of black shadows quivered. It suddenly reshaped, pulling into a form.

    First... a small, star sticker. Just like before. Then it shifted.

    The shape cracked, stretched, pulled into something far too wrong. A feline silhouette formed. Long body, huge eyes, and a mouth too wide. Its eyes...one yellow, one purple...shone like knives.

     FRIEND.

    The word echoed on Tenna’s screen, but his focus stayed sharp. The laugh tore out of it, harsh and jagged, nearly splitting the air in two. It drowned out the world, nearly overwhelming even Tenna’s static.

    “Who dares you to say I am a friend!” The voice screeched, bouncing like broken signals.

    It laughed again, body twisting, its grin slicing its face.

    “I am friend indeed! Flesh and bone! But I am not yours! You!” Its head jerked. “...you cut everything from me!”

    Tenna’s roar ripped through the air, letting out his feral side again. His claw slashed forward, blocking the human, and the body squared between them like a shield. His tail curled tightly around them, binding them close to protect them.

    The cloud puff floated beside him now, sparks of determination flashing pink across its small frame. Mike’s waves stiffened, rising sharply like blades, pressing at Tenna’s side.

     They were with him.

    Tenna’s screen burned bright as his voice broke out like thunder.

     “You were the one who cut me from the beginning! You were the one who halved me...” His claws dug into the dirt, emphasizing his anger. “...in price, in power, in MODEL! You had what should have been mine! You carried a power equal to mine! When it was always supposed to be ME!”

    The cat —Friend— floated higher, its body twisting unnaturally as it howled with laughter.

    “You were the one who asked for it, TV special!” It shrieked. “Freedom! Help! The light!”

     “I REJECTED it!” Tenna’s roar cracked his screen with raw static. “ I chose MY path! I chose to find MY signal and light!”

    Friend’s grin widened until its jaw nearly snapped. “Hypocrite!”

    The word hit Tenna like a blade. His screen dimmed, faltering. His antennas buzzed with unstable static, static that rattled the ground.

     “You wanted freedom!” Friend spat, voice bending like broken code. “And it was ready... ready to be given to you! But you... you cut it out!”

    The puddle of shadows stirred again beneath Friend, rippling violently. From its depths, something slithered upward... long, coiled.

 

     A tail.

              Not just any tail.

                                      A cord.

                                            A phone cord.

 

    Tenna hissed, recoiling, every light on his body flaring white-hot in pain and rage. His claws tightened so hard his digits screeched.

     No...

     NO!

    Friend’s laughter boomed again, sickly and triumphant. “But I found it! I made it my own!”

    The cord lashed behind it like a whip, sparking with shadow. The human stepped forward now, their eyes sharp. Their sword, already half-loose, clicked free with a sound like finality. The steel hummed as it caught the fractured light.

    “Tenna...” The human said, low and firm. “It’s late now. Too late. Whatever this is... it’s over.”

    Tenna’s claws shook, sparks hissing at the tips. His screen flickered, static warring with fury and grief. He didn’t want this. Not this. But his claws sharpened. And his roar rose from deep within his chest.

     Ready to strike, Friend.

    Friend’s laughter cracked the frozen air, bouncing against the snow like jagged static. Its body stretched unnaturally as it floated higher, eyes burning with sickly purple and yellow light.

    And then shadows burst forth.

    Small puddles rippled around them in the snow, bubbling upward, shaping into dozens of smaller versions of Friend. Each wore the same too-wide grin, the same piercing eyes.

    They darted forward like knives in the dark. Tenna slashed his claws, static bursting with each strike. Mike’s waves cracked through the snow like lightning, scattering copies. The cloud puffed itself into bursts of small gales, blowing shadow-forms back before they could get close. The human’s blade gleamed, cutting through any that lunged too far. Tenna's stars moved around the battlefield, healing whoever needed.

    They fought together fast and desperately until finally Mike surged forward, his whole wave rolling out in one powerful blast. He shoved the smaller shadows aside, clearing a path.

     “Now, Tenna!”

    Tenna’s antennas buzzed wildly, his claws sparking. He lowered into a crouch, screen flickering, then charged through the gap Mike had opened.

    The human held their blade. "You are the one who has to finish it.”

    Tenna roared as he leapt, colliding with Friend midair. Claw against claw, screen against twisted grin. They struck each other in furious bursts, static tearing at shadow, shadow pressing back like a storm.

     They were equal.

    Every slash, every strike, canceled the other out. Their power crashed against one another until the ground shook beneath them.

    But Tenna’s static dimmed. His claws slowed.

    The battle with the knight still weighed heavy on his body... each movement burned. He felt his strength fading.

    Friend’s voice cracked over him, shrill and endless. “Freedom! Angel! Heaven! It’s all waiting! Waiting for ME!”

    His words made no sense, spiraling deeper and deeper into nonsense. Then suddenly, Friend froze. His eyes darted wildly, scanning the air around them, searching.

    “Where… where is it? Where’s the light!? Where is my freedom!? Where is the Angel!?”

    Tenna’s screen flickered, his body trembling. He understood then. The angel… the heaven… the waiting. It was the same obsession the knight carried. Friend hadn’t found freedom, he had chained himself to a shadow, to a promise that would never come.

    Friend’s body shook violently, his grin snapping wider. “If the Angel won’t come.." His voice cracked into a shriek. “ ...then I will make the light MINE!”

    The human’s eyes widened, their blade trembling. They saw it before Tenna could.

    “Tenna! Get back!”

    But it was too late.

    Friend’s stare locked onto Tenna’s screen. More specifically... onto the bright, blinking light at his nose.

    Friend’s voice turned guttural, hungry. “That’s it. YOUR light. YOUR freedom. If I take it... then the Angel comes for ME!”

    His claws shot forward, shadows curling like knives... aiming straight for Tenna’s nose. Friend’s claws slashed forward. Tenna whipped his tail around, blocking the strike...

    ...but Friend’s jagged teeth sank deep into it.

    Tenna gasped, static crackling from his throat, the sharp pain nearly dropping him. He staggered, trying to hold his ground, claws scraping against the snow as Friend’s grip tightened. Then the cord-tail lashed out, wrapping around Tenna’s nose.

    Tenna hissed, claws digging into the cord, thrashing. His screen flickered wildly. But Friend pulled harder. With a sickening crack of glass and light...

    Tenna’s nose was ripped free from his screen.

    The static-sharp scream that tore out of him rattled the stars themselves. His screen went black and fractured, shards of faint light twitching inside the glass. The glow that had always burned at his nose...

 

 

 

    his pride and joy

 

                          Kris’s gift

 

                                            gone.

 

 

 

    He fell to his knees, his whole body trembling. His antennas buzzed erratically, collapsing against his head. The weight of loss crushed him more than the wound itself.

     He had lost.

    His feral side stronger now, forcing him to stay still, accept the defeat, and end...

     He had to die here.

    He stayed still, chest heaving, waiting for Friend’s killing blow.

 

 

 

 

    But before it came... a burst of wind struck him from the side.

    The cloud rammed into Tenna, knocking him away from the shadow’s swing. He hit the ground hard, glass cracks spreading across his screen as his body thudded into the snow.

    Mike rushed in, his waves curling protectively, and the human skidded to Tenna’s side, sword raised.

    The stars shimmered, trying to heal... but their light sputtered uselessly against the broken glass of his screen. Tenna tried to breathe, each gasp raw static and pain.

    Above them, Friend lifted Tenna’s nose high into the sky. Purple-yellow eyes gleamed. His laughter split the silence, raw and triumphant.

    “My beauty! My freedom! Finally… my light!”

    But his grin widened as he revealed his other claw, clutched tight around the cloud, squeezing until smoke wisped weakly out between his fingers.

    Tenna’s breath hitched, his body shuddering as he tried to force himself up.

“St..... stop! Please… not... t-them! Take me... take me instead...”

    Friend laughed. The sound was colder now, sharpened into something deliberate. “Oh, how strange. Didn’t you do the same, Tenna? The phone being dragged by your tail to your world, to the studio, in the way you wanted? Your mess? Hahaha! Didn’t you force me into your terms? Then... ”

    His grip tightened around the cloud. Its muffled cry wheezed out as smoke flickered.

    “This is no different...” Friend sneered. “...except this time, it’s my way.”

    And then he let out the cloud and...

    His tail slashed down.

    A white arc cut through the air, carving straight across the cloud’s body.

     Tenna screamed! A sound so raw it split the shadows for a heartbeat.

 

     “NO!”

 

    The cloud trembled, smoke spilling out like blood, its form unraveling as it fell.

    Tenna’s broken body lurched upright, staggering. Blood trickled down his frame, his screen barely flickering. Mike shouted for him to stop, the human tried to hold him back, but Tenna ignored them all.

    He bolted forward on all fours, snow scattering beneath his claws.

    His strength was gone, his body collapsing, but still he leapt.

    He caught the cloud in his chest, curling his arms and tail around its fragile form as they both slammed into the snow.

    The impact rattled his fractured screen. Bruises bloomed across his limbs, his wound bled freely, but he didn’t care.

    All he could see was the cloud... crying, smoke dripping from the cut, its voice broken in soft sobs of pain.

    Tenna lowered his head, holding them close, trembling.

     “Shh… I’m here. I’m here…”

    The cloud trembled in his arms, weak and fading. Tenna pressed it tighter against his chest, claws trembling, screen flickering with broken light.

    “Don’t... please… please stay...” His voice crackled, begs unanswered by none. Tears of static streamed down, his body shaking as the cloud’s smoke slipped through his arms.

    Its body deflated, softer and softer, until there was nothing left but wisps rising into the sky.

     “NO!” Tenna cried, clutching empty air.

    The smoke vanished into the falling snow, leaving him on his knees. The storm grew heavier, snowflakes cutting harder against the world like glass.

    He looked up, antennas twitching violently, claws digging into the ground. His chest hurt, burned.... as if the loss had caved something in. He lowered his head again, one claw pressed into the snow to keep himself upright, the other clutched desperately against his chest as if he could silence the pain.

    Static-filled sobs tore out of him, his screen dim and fractured. The wail echoed across the battlefield...

     ...his arm burned.

    A warmth seeped through his limb, spreading, cutting through the suffocating despair. Tenna froze, his sobs catching. His antennas twitched again, sharper now. His fractured screen flickered.

 

     That’s right.

 

    The intruder was still here.

 

 

     Still here.

 

 

    Still here.

 

 

      Here...

 

               here...

 

                      here...

 

                            here...

 

                                     HERE.

 

 

 

    Something snapped inside him. His broken cry rose again, warping, twisting, until it was no longer broken static.

     Until it became a roar.

    The crackling glass of his screen vibrated, mending piece by piece as light surged back into it. The last crack sealed with a shhhrrrkkk of static energy...

    And with it, sharp white teeth formed across his screen. An animal’s maw carved from light, jagged and vicious, his voice no longer broken but pure and harsh!

     “I WILL KILL YOU!” Tenna bellowed, his words laced with raw power, shattering the air around him. His antennas snapped upright, twitching violently, his claws dragging through the snow as he rose to his full height.

    Friend stared. Eyes wide, for once truly unsettled.

    Tenna’s screen burned white, his nose restored, the glow sharp and dangerous. His mouth split wider, teeth glinting like blades. He took a step forward, ignoring the bruises, the bleeding, the pain.

     “I WILL KILL YOU—!” His roar split again, primal and deafening. “I WILL BE THE LAST THING YOU SEE!”

    With one final snarl, Tenna leapt, claws slashing, teeth gnashing, tail whipping through the snow. His feral side exploded outward, every strike faster, heavier, desperate.

    Not holding back.

     Not a game anymore.

    Not survival.

     This was war.

    Friend stumbled back, their cord lashing out, sparks scattering as Tenna tore through it with his claws. Teeth snapped forward, nearly catching Friend’s throat. The snow burst upward with each collision, light and shadow clashing violently.

    The battlefield shook with the sound of Tenna’s wrath...

     Feral, terrifying, unstoppable.

    The snowstorm outside had become nothing but static, hissing and alive. Tenna’s claws ripped through Friend’s shadows like paper, his screen blazing white with that jagged maw snarling wide.

    Friend struck, lunged, slashed... yet every move was countered. Every cord torn, every shadow obliterated. Tenna wasn’t playing defense anymore. He was the one in control now, and he pressed forward with relentless force.

    A slash caught Friend’s throat. Tenna’s claw dug deep, holding the cat up by the scruff, electricity sparking violently through the contact. Friend’s distorted laugh broke into a choked hiss...

     Tenna hurled him.

    The cat’s body smashed through the doors of the studio, spiraling across the floor, slamming into rank walls and steel beams. The crash echoed, dust raining from the ceiling. Friend staggered to his feet, coughing, claws dragging against the walls to steady himself.

     Tenna didn’t pause. His glowing maw twisted into a snarl as he followed, storming inside the studio. His tail whipped and smashed through consoles, screens burst, sparks erupted, and the entire place was trembling under his fury.

    With a roar, Tenna’s tail wrapped around Friend’s throat and hurled him. The cat slammed through a wall, shattering glass as the two of them crashed into Tenna’s room.

    The shelves toppled. The floor cracked. And amid the chaos, a single frame slid from the wall. It landed face-up in the dust, the glass breaking.

     Tenna's picture.

    Friend, staggering up from the rubble, caught sight of the fallen frame. His eyes darted from it… to Tenna, who sidestepped, ignoring it. And for the first time in their battle, his smirk faltered.

    He wasn’t trying to contain anymore. He wasn’t trying to protect.

     He wanted Friend dead.

    His claws ripped through walls, leaving scorch marks as electricity surged out, arcing across the room. Every strike was brutal, fueled by wrath, until Friend was forced backward into the green room.

    Friend hissed, shadows swirling desperately to defend, but then...

    A new current surged through Tenna. Stronger. Sharper. More merciless.

    Blue-white static layered itself over his body, waves of Mike’s signal weaving around him like armor. Tenna’s claws sparked brighter, every swing leaving arcs of violent lightning in the air.

    Friend’s eyes widened.

     Even Mike wanted blood.

    Tenna advanced again, slashing through shadow after shadow, the studio bar cracking under the blows. Electricity roared through the green room, shattering bottles, bursting lights, raining glass over them both. Friend fought, darting, his laughter breaking into strained cries as Tenna closed in.

    But then... a desperate strike.

    Friend managed to shove Tenna back with a blast of darkness, slamming him into the wall. For a moment, the host staggered, electricity sparking across his body.

    Friend didn’t waste it. He ran.

    Claws tore through doors, throwing them open until... he emerged onto the stage.

    The once-bright stage now stood broken, cold. Friend turned, chest heaving, shadows trembling around him. His eyes darted toward the doors...

     And there he was.

     Tenna.

    Stepping through the shattered doorway, silently, slowly. His screen burned like a beacon in the dark, jagged teeth glowing as his antennas twitched violently. Electricity coiled around him, his claws dragging sparks from the floor with every step.

 

    No laugh. No words.

 

     Just the predator.

 

 

 

     The hunter.

 

 

 

    The broadcast of death walking toward its victim.

    And when Tenna finally stopped at the edge of the stage, head tilted slightly, screen burning white…

     …it was like he was ready to broadcast the final moment to the whole world.

    Friend’s claws dragged against the stage floor, tearing grooves as his laughter echoed across the broken studio. He darted, slashing wildly, breaking cables, and smashing the massive screen behind Tenna. The glass burst into sparks, static raining down in a blinding shower.

    But Tenna didn’t even flinch.

    Neither did Mike.

    The storm wrapped tighter around him, every step sparking across the ruined stage. His glowing screen was focused only on one thing... ending Friend.

    Tenna lunged again, his claws slamming into the boards of the stage. The whole frame of the set shuddered. Friend dodged, barely escaping the impact, shadows curling tighter around him. Tenna snarled, about to strike again...

     ...but suddenly, light flared.

    A series of holograms flickered into being, hazy projections of the Weather Channel. Transparent rectangles lined the air above the stage, and then… they appeared... sun and clouds...

     Tenna froze. His claws trembled mid-swing. His antennas twitched, and for the first time in this battle, his breathing faltered. The static in his chest shifted, his feral rage stalling as the words pierced through the haze.

     Rain. Clouds.

    The reminder jolted him awake.

    The antennas screamed, begging him.

     'Stop. Don’t lose yourself.'

    But the hesitation cost him.

    Friend struck, slamming into Tenna with a surge of shadows that hurled him back into the theater seats. Splinters of broken wood and torn fabric burst around him. Tenna gasped, sparks flickering from his chest. Mike followed behind, shielding him.

     Friend laughed.

    “Pathetic. Naïve. You will always be that idiotic machine. A toy. Not a beast. Not a killer. You don’t even have a feral side... just a weak, broken heart.”

    Tenna struggled, hands digging into the wreckage as he pushed himself upright. His screen glowed faintly, static crackling across the broken rows. Slowly, he lifted his head and stared at Friend. And then, finally, he spoke.

     “…You’re right.”

    Friend froze, eyes narrowing.

    “I am weak...” Tenna rasped, voice shaking. “I am naïve… But I would rather be weak with someone… than powerful and alone.”

    The stars appeared around him, faint flickers at first, then stronger, like fireflies gathering at his side. Mike’s signal pulsed sharper above him, waves of static curling like a crown of thorns, harmonizing with his words. The wind around him was harsher... like a hurricane ready to consume everything.

    Friend hissed, backing a step, knowing where this was going. His tail lashed furiously.

    “No…” He snarled. “Don’t you dare....”

    Tenna’s hand lifted slowly, almost painfully. The stars were circling faster, giving him strength while Mike held his hand steady. The wind became colder... painful... Tenna closed his eyes...

    His claw snapped.

     SNAP.

    The air tore open with a shriek. Time froze as it had before, and the wind around Tenna stopped... and it moved. A massive white slash carved through the stage, blinding light splitting the world in two. It was the same attack Friend had once shown Tenna, now turned against him. The screen behind Friend, now broken in the middle, gave a harsh truth that no one in here knew but... this... this had sealed their fate.

    The arc of light cut clean across Friend’s middle.

     Silence.

    Friend’s body collapsed onto the stage floor, twitching once, twice... then still. The smoke still curled off Friend’s body, shadows tearing away from him.

    Tenna’s claws dragged across the broken wood as he stepped forward, every motion heavy, almost unwilling. His screen glowed faintly, his stars hovering around him quietly as if they, too, were watching.

    Friend lay on the ruined stage floor, his chest rising shallow, his shadows slipping away like the cloud before. His grin was weak now, but he still managed a sneer, spitting words like venom.

    “Idiot… useless machine, a pathetic TV,   none would watch soon! You will never change. You will never be...”

    He choked, hissing. His voice faltered. And then… a drop hit his fur.

    Friend’s head turned, slow. His mismatched eyes focused on Tenna kneeling beside him, his body shaking. Tenna’s clawed hand reached out but hovered just short of touching.

    Tears streaked down Tenna’s cracked screen, scattering like rain across Friend’s chest.

    “…Whatever the cause... whatever the journey...” Tenna whispered, his voice breaking. “Whatever you have done… you were... my friend.”

    The silence after that was crushing.

    Friend stared at him. His expression twitched to confusion, anger, and denial, but finally softened. His gaze drifted upward, past Tenna, toward the dark above.

    “…Friend, huh?” He muttered weakly, but it was his voice, his original one. A breathless laugh left his throat. “Perhaps… that’s what I was after…”

    His body loosened. The last of the shadows broke apart into smoke, floating up into the stage lights.

    And then… nothing. Only Tenna remained, kneeling in the center of the stage.

    The spotlight above him flickered weakly, then blinked out.

 

 

 

    The stage was dark.

 

 

 

 

     Even the brightest star can shiver under shadow...

Notes:

SPOILERS
If you haven't finished the chapter, don't scroll down.
Well, it looks like Tenna had his hands full. The interview, Kris, his nose, and now... the death of two people. So, as you read, Fifty was the darn cat, Friend. I told you he is a canon character. Either way, I have tried to hint it in the last chapters as well as in this one. As I have said, Fifty was a sticker and had multiple selves across all dark worlds. He couldn't die, basically. Now that he became Friend, this applies to them also. He can be in all dark worlds, and if one dies, another would appear... Tragic, really... and a massive drawback for the other darkners. Plus, I wanted Tenna to have a better implication in the lore... so he knows who Friend is, personally. Meaning... Friend has a grudge with him... oh well... I wonder what it might happen, not something bad.
Plus, Friend is stronger from the knight, a slight add. Also, the last sentence is what Gaster had said to Tenna when they had meant... a double meaning in that one.
Also, I am not sorry...

Chapter 8: When The Black Light Has Left

Notes:

Hello everyone and welcome back! I think I might have made everyone cry a little in the previous chapter... I am still not sorry... Thank you though for the comments, I didn't think you would like it so much. After all I wanted it to be perfect for what it was happening in it. I think I achieved that! ......
I bet I can do it again...
Either way, Tenna will continue to shine... let's see how he does it.

    Days passed.

    The storm outside thinned, but inside the studio it felt heavier than ever. No laughter echoed in the halls, no shows lit up the screens, no songs hummed from the radios. Just silence.

    Mike sat slouched in the control booth, staring at the dead monitors. He had taken Tenna’s job, overseeing the world and making sure everything was in order. After all... Tenna wasn’t in the shape to do it...

    Not right now.

    It was hard. He didn't like how things had turned... He hated that sticker, he knew he would cause trouble. Mike had made up his mind, keeping him, but... he should have been more demanding. Either way... he had started to like the sticker, but... at the end, his instincts were right.

    And he should have trusted them.

    The way things have turned around. It was haunting, terrible... deadly. It was too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing at his face. The memory replayed... the roar, the light, the final slash. The look in Tenna’s eyes when Friend disappeared. The way Tenna screamed in agony after that little cloud's death... He hadn’t seen the host like that before. Not once.

    Mike looked out of the window towards the heavy now snow. It seemed TV world felt Tenna’s emotions... and how can he blame it. He remembered that night... clearer than he wanted.

    The stage had gone silent after the light vanished, but Tenna hadn’t moved. He just sat there, screen dim, antennas trembling, his claws slack in his lap. The stars flickering weakly above him as if they were mourning too.

    Mike had, after a while, gone towards Tenna. He had stepped onto the ruined stage. He had crouched, wrapping his waves around Tenna’s shoulders, holding him as tight as he could. He had whispered, trying to ease Tenna’s pain, but Tenna didn’t respond. No words, no movements. Just the sounds of shaky breaths escaping him.

    The stars wept with him, tiny glimmers dripping down like fading sparks. Mike hadn’t known if they were crying for him or with him. Maybe both.

    And then the human walked in.

    Mike had looked up, and what he saw etched itself into him. The hesitation in their steps, the sadness clinging to them like a shadow. It was too much for anyone to bear. Too much for Tenna to see. And thank the fountain, he hadn’t.

    The human crossed the broken floor slowly, their eyes never leaving Tenna. When they finally reached him, they crouched too, one hand resting on his trembling shoulder. They squeezed, gentle but firm, and spoke low, words Mike remembered even now.

    “You did well.”

    That was when Tenna broke. Not loud, not dramatic, just silent tears sliding down the glass of his screen, falling onto his open claws as he stared at them, empty. The stage around him was wrecked, but somehow, it felt like he was the one left hollow.

    Mike had known then. How much it hurt. How much it would keep hurting. Friend had been more than a fight. The sticker was Tenna’s friend, whatever twisted way that meant. And the cloudling… that was Tenna’s first darkner. His first companion. Both gone, both ripped away in one night.

    It would leave scars. Maybe ones that wouldn’t heal.

    Mike tried to shake himself out of the memory, but it was still strong in his mind. He remembered how the human helped him lift Tenna, guiding the host gently off the broken stage. Tenna hadn’t resisted. Hadn’t even spoken. Just let himself be carried.

    They hadn’t brought him to his room. It was destroyed anyway, glass shattered everywhere, his things broken and scattered. The reason they didn't get him there was that Tenna had avoided it, wouldn’t even look down that hall. Mike hadn’t understood then. Not until later.

    So they followed his silent lead, bringing him to his office instead.

    When they set him down on the sofa, his screen dimmed, and just as it was bright, it closed too fast for anyone to notice. Tenna fainted at the sofa, had a short circuit. Everyone watched in horror as Tenna hit the sofa, silent, but they couldn't do anything. Tenna had experienced so many that day...

    Mike remembered the moment they laid Tenna on the sofa, how still he had gone, the way his screen dimmed until it almost looked dead. His stomach twisted even now, thinking of it. They had all stared, frozen, until the human broke the silence with a sigh.

    “It’s all after Tenna now…” They murmured, their hand lingering on the host’s shoulder before drawing back. Their voice carried both weight and gentleness. “We just… stay by his side. That’s all we can do.”

    Mike had nodded, though inside it didn’t feel like enough. Still, he promised himself he would. If Tenna couldn’t hold the world together, then Mike would, and the human would help where he could not. That was the only path left.

    Days stretched. Mike came often, floating by the office, checking on Tenna, where he slept deep on the sofa, circuits faint but steady. He would bring updates, though Tenna never stirred. Sometimes the human would join him, taking some of the burden when trouble arose outside. Together, they held things together in the quiet, waiting for Tenna to wake.

    Until that day.

    Mike had felt it first, the host’s signal, faint but moving. His first thought had been relief. Tenna was up. Progress. But as he followed the trace, that relief curdled in him. It wasn’t progress.

    It was something else.

    He didn’t have to search long. The sound carried down the hall, snarls, crashing static, claws raking deep into walls. Mike stopped at the door of the Z-rank room. The stars gathered too, watching with wide, trembling light, but none dared enter.

    Inside, Tenna tore the room apart. His claws ripped through the walls, shredding them into indistinct scars. Sparks hissed and fell, static flooding the air as if the world itself recoiled from him. His tail lashed wildly, smashing into the floor, splitting it open. Every sound he made was low, ragged... anger drowning in grief, grief boiling into rage.

    And then… the phone.

    Mike froze as Tenna’s eyes locked onto it. The host’s body went taut, breath rattling fast, screen flickering with dim light. His mouth parted, a silent snarl, like the sight of it alone poisoned him.

    Tenna stepped closer, trembling harder with each step. He lifted the phone from its pedestal with shaking claws, staring at it like it had betrayed him, cursed him. Then...

    CRASH.

    He slammed it down, the pedestal cracking in two. Again and again he struck, voice breaking into half-sobs, half-roars. The receiver tangled in his claws, and then his teeth sank into the plastic, tearing it apart, sharp metal taste cutting into him as he shredded it in desperation. His tail slammed into what was left of the pedestal, splintering it into pieces.

    Mike couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch Tenna unravel, watch his sorrow come out in destruction. The stars pressed closer to his waves, shivering.

    Finally, Tenna dropped what remained of the phone, staring down at it with an open mouth, breaths ragged and uneven. His claws trembled as he lifted it again, dragging it behind him by his tail like it was something vile, something cursed. And without looking back, he walked out of the room.

    Mike followed only far enough to see him throw it into the dark. The sound of it clattering and vanishing into silence echoed longer than it should have.

    And then… Tenna returned. Not to the office, not to the sofa, but to the doorway of the Z-rank room. He stood there for a long moment, shoulders heaving, then pressed his claws into the glowing sign.

    Scraping. Tearing. Stealing away its light until only a hollow scar remained.

    A scar that he also had...

    When he stepped back, there was nothing left of it. No room. No name. No glow. Just dead space, silent and cold.

    Tenna turned and walked away. Mike would watch the room, sensing the aura it used to have, being nonexistent now. Tenna was focused on that. He wanted the room gone, dead. After some time, Tenna had returned and had closed the door as much as he could, as he couldn't get rid of it completely. He focused then, and with a quick flash, the door disappeared, or rather moved towards the end of the corridor, far, far away from the other doors. Tenna wanted it to be gone, so he closed the corridor with another door, now with a lock on it. He didn’t want anyone to find it...

 

    ...

 

    The snow never stopped. Not the harsh storm from before, just a steady, quiet fall, as if the world itself didn’t want to disturb anyone. White covered the ruins of the stage, softened the jagged remains of walls and broken signs, and muted the echoes of what once was.

    Tenna didn’t host. He couldn’t.

    His stage was destroyed, and more than that… he wasn’t ready. Mike knew it. Everyone knew it.

    Mike could still feel the pull of the stage sometimes, when the Lightners tuned in, their eyes reaching across the veil. They still wanted Tenna. They still watched him, even if he didn’t stand before them. That cord of connection remained, steady as heartbeat static. But what the darkners felt was different. Mike overheard their murmurs, whispers that slipped into the snowy silence.

    Asking what happened to Tenna, why wasn’t he doing any shows, and if he was alright.

    At first, Mike thought the whispers would turn cruel. That they would cast Tenna out, decide his world was too broken, too feral. That the collapse was something he would eventually have since he was feral, and judged him. But when the human returned, they told Mike what the darkners truly said.

    They were worried. They were asking for him.

    Tenna had made them care... without trying, without forcing. He had made them love him.

    And despite everything, they wanted him back.

    It was almost too much for Mike’s static heart. He had stayed up nights, his waves carrying the weight of the world in Tenna’s stead, and to know Tenna wasn’t alone in this, not really...

    ...it was more comforting than he could admit.

    But still, Tenna didn’t return.

    Instead, he walked.

    Not into the studio, not to his office, he avoided those halls like scars. Especially his room. He wouldn’t even look down that corridor.

    Tenna just lingered outside.

    Mike would catch sight of him sometimes, a dim figure against the endless snow, antennas bowed under the pale sky. He didn’t pace. He didn’t move with purpose. He just sat sometimes at the edge of the bridge, claws resting on the frosted ground, his screen reflecting the vast darkness beyond.

    Always staring forward. Always thinking.

    Snowflakes clung to his glass, to the jagged cracks in his claws, to the ragged end of his tail. He didn’t brush them away. He just let the cold settle on him, as though the silence was all he could bear.

    It reminded Mike of Tenna’s first days in this world. He was small again, not knowing what to do.

    Mike watched him from a distance more often than not. He didn’t intrude. He didn’t have the words that would make Tenna’s screen brighten again. But he stayed close, always close enough to hear the static hum beneath the snow.

    Until...

    The snow fell softly that day. Not storming, not even heavy. Just a quiet blanket, drifting endlessly from the gray sky.

    Tenna sat on the bridge, pulled tight into himself. His claws hooked against his legs, tail wrapped like a chain around his body. His antennas drooped low, no light left in them. For a moment, he looked less like the protector of a world and more like a child... small, trembling, lost.

    He could hear a faint poem, a familiar song, the one that Tenna had sung to Kris when he was trying to calm him down. That juice song... it seemed to calm Tenna’s nerves as well, since he would sing it more and more when he was panicking, but Mike could tell that now... it didn't do the trick.

    Mike stood there for a long time before moving. He didn’t call his name. He didn’t try to fill the silence with empty words. Instead, he moved through the snow and sat down beside him.

    Nothing more.

    Just there.

    At first, Tenna didn’t react. Only curling tighter and stopping his song, shivering faintly as if his whole frame tried to hide. Then, slowly, his screen tilted, enough to see Mike’s reflection there. His tail wrapped tighter, claw tips digging into his arms.

    Mike didn’t move, except to raise one hand. Carefully, steadily, he rested it on Tenna’s shoulder, squeezing once. A signal. A promise.

 

    That was all it took.

 

    The tremor in Tenna’s body broke apart into sobs, sharp and ragged, tearing free as if he had been holding them back too long. His antennas flickered erratically as he leaned forward, burying himself against Mike, arms wrapping around him desperately. The claws cut into static, scratching sparks from his form... but Mike didn’t flinch, didn’t push him away. He returned the hug, static arms closing firmly around Tenna.

    The sobs grew louder. Raw, aching sounds. Tenna wailed as if the world had split in him, as if Friend’s last words and the broken stage and the cloud’s fading light were all pouring out at once.

    The stars came then. Silent at first, drifting like fireflies from the snowy sky, gathering around him. They pressed gently to his sides, to his back, to the curve of his antennas. Their light was warm, steady. And then, faintly, softly...

 

    ...they began to hum.

 

    Not words. Just a song. The first one they had ever sung for him when he had come here. A melody without lyrics, woven only from voices and light. A memory of welcome, of belonging, of love.

    Tenna froze for a heartbeat when he heard it. Then the sobs broke harder, his wail spilling into the night, louder than before, the kind of sound that cracked the air. The stars held him tighter, voices rising but never drowning him... always carrying him. Mike pressed closer, static waves pulsing outwards, curling over Tenna’s shaking frame like a blanket.

    Tenna clutched him tighter, breath shuddering, uneven but slowly... finding rhythm again. His body stayed trembling, but the edge of the storm in him eased with each breath, each song, each spark of static warmth pressed into him.

    For the first time since it all ended, Tenna let his grief consume him.

    And for the first time, he wasn’t alone in it.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    The snow did not stop, but something inside the studio began to shift.

Slowly. Quietly. Like the faintest hum of static before a broadcast.

    Tenna didn’t rush back to the stage. He didn’t force himself into a spotlight he wasn’t ready for. Instead, he began with small things. A broken sign in the hallway, re-lit with careful sparks from his claws. A chair in the office, repaired where it had splintered. Even the studio doors, once left hanging open, were reset into their frames, locks fixed, hinges tightened.

    He was slowly fixing his world... but...

    Not the stage.

    Never the stage.

    That place still felt hollow. A wound.

    Mike didn’t press. He only watched, floating silently beside him, sensing the careful way Tenna poured himself into these small acts of repair. It wasn’t about hosting, it wasn't because he needed to do it... it was about reclaiming the pieces of a home. His home...

    It wasn’t until later that Mike understood why Tenna had avoided his room. He discovered it by accident, as he wanted to also help Tenna repair their home. Tenna was still avoiding his room like the plague, so Mike decided to repair it. Perhaps Tenna didn't want to come inside after that fight he had. He didn't want to be reminded of what had happened. So after starting his work, just there... finding inside the shards of glass, the claw marks, the scattered remnants of what once decorated it. Among them, broken in two, was the photo Mike had given him. The one that had read... Proud of you.

    At first, Mike had winced, thinking Tenna had destroyed it out of rage, the way he had destroyed the Z-rank room. But then he realized... no. Tenna hadn’t wanted to walk into a space where that reminder sat in ruins. The hurt wasn’t about the photo itself. It was about the meaning behind it.

    Tenna valued it too much.

    Valued him too much.

    Mike’s static rippled with something warm at the thought, something both painful and heartening. He hadn’t known how much Tenna held their friendship, how deeply it had rooted in him, until then.

    He continued repairing the room, now more focused than ever, trying to bring it back to its glory. He would yet again make it a place where Tenna needed to relax, needed to stay... needed to feel like a home.

    He had repaired the photo as much as he could. It was still ripped in half, but Mike knew Tenna would value it, whatever the cause. Mike promised himself that he would make a new photo and give it to Tenna... when it was the right time. But for now, he simply put the photo outside Tenna’s door, showing that whatever he had done, Mike would stay by his side, not annoyed or sad... showing that he was with him, whatever the cause.

    He had heard Tenna cry upon seeing the photo, he knew what it meant to him. Mike could feel the TV finally letting out some of the steam he was holding. He was relieved, Mike could feel. And maybe… maybe that was why Tenna began to open up again. Little by little.

    He started repairing, yes... but also guarding again, the protective streak in him flickering back like the first light after a blackout. His steps had more weight. His screen flickered with steadier brightness.

    The human noticed too, though they didn’t visit often anymore. After all, they belonged to the Cyber City. But when they did come, Mike could see it in their eyes... that same faint relief, the same pride, the same quiet belief that Tenna would find his way back.

    Mike, though, found it weird that the human didn’t go to speak to Tenna or walk with him. They would come and oversee him and then leave. Like it wasn't the right time to speak to him. Mike wondered why they did this. Tenna didn't seem to feel them when they were coming, meaning either he was too preoccupied with his world, or the human was too good at hiding. The human, though, would come more often and just observe the darkness before they disappeared. Like they were feeling something.

    One day, when Tenna had fallen asleep yet again in his office, Mike felt the human appearing in the world. They called upon him, not Tenna. And the reason was something that Mike was thankful the human didn’t tell Tenna yet.

    Friend was alive...

    Not the one that Tenna had defeated. Oh no. The sticker was a sticky, idiotic reminder that when he was distracted, he would come back. He had multiple selves across all worlds. Mike had forgotten how he operated. It was harsh... Friend had been corrupted, meaning that all the alive and new copies were also... he was not a sticker anymore... he was a nuisance. Darkness enveloping every copy, transforming it into that cat.

    He had found his freedom, unfortunately...

    He knew the way of the worlds, meaning he knew what to do. He was still a sticker at heart, meaning that he knew how to catch attention and knew how to use his powers.

    He was dangerous.

    Mike had grimaced. This was terrible. If Tenna learned it, he would feel more under. That's why the human didn’t want him to learn that yet.

    He would blame himself for what Fifty had become... and what he was causing in other worlds. He was, after all, now... darkness, one with the knight. The human had stayed silent when Mike had said that...

    They had shaken their head... it was the will of the world...

    That damn phrase again!

    Unfortunately... the human had continued... it was not only the will of the world... but the prophecy's also.

    Mike had frozen...

    ... no...

    The human was right... this was what the prophecy had foretold... this was meant to happen...

 

    Dammit...

 

    ...

 

    It took what felt like an eternity. Days blurring into nights, snow falling without end. But then...

    Mike caught it...

    Something he had missed for so long.

    Static pricked sharply as he felt a ripple of signal pulse through the world. Not his. Not the stars’. Tenna’s.

    He rushed through the halls, waves crackling with anticipation, until he found the faint glow of a screen lit once more. The sound of a voice, soft, awkward, yet filled with something achingly genuine.

    Tenna. Hosting.

    Not for the darkners. Not for himself. Not for his Lightners... but only to a specific one, one that Tenna held higher than anyone.

 

    Kris...

 

    He was there in the destroyed stage, ignoring the debris, the dark spotlights, and the empty seats. He was looking at the screen behind the stage, still cut in half but functioning just fine. Maybe Tenna had repaired it, maybe wanted it to work. Whatever the case, he was there looking upon it.

    Kris was looking at the screen, smiling at Tenna, following his movements again. Tenna's antennas trembling, screen shining faintly with light. Tenna’s voice wavered, but he kept going, fumbling through his words, trying to sound like the proud host he once was. Mike didn’t need to hear all of it to know what it meant.

 

    He had chosen Kris.

 

                                    A beginning.

 

                                                        A first step.

 

    Mike lingered in the doorway, watching with something like pride thrumming through his static, as the stars twinkled faintly above. Tenna continued slowly, but his words were filled with warmth when he finally sang the song Kris liked. The juice song. It was annoying, but to them it meant home, family.

    Tenna was hosting again.

    For someone he cared about.

    And in that moment, it was more than enough.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    The snow fell softer these days. It still lingered, blanketing the studio, but now it looked less like mourning and more like quiet patience.

    Tenna had begun to rebuild the stage.

    Not suddenly, not all at once, but with the kind of determination that burned slow and steady. He started with the seats, every one of them carefully lifted from rubble, mended with sparks and claws. Each tear in the fabric sealed, each crack in the frame reforged. When Mike passed through, he would often find Tenna crouched in the darkened rows, fingertips dragging carefully across the velvet, antennas trembling faintly as though listening to something only he could hear. The stars would guide him as well, helping where Tenna couldn't wave.

    It wasn’t just seats. The floor of the stage, splintered and scarred, was repaired board by board. The railing replaced. Curtains sewn back together. The air itself seemed to hum again, lighter as if it knew the care Tenna poured into it.

    But the screen.

    Always the screen.

    It sat cracked and dull behind the stage, its split running jagged across its center. Tenna wouldn’t touch it. He fixed everything around it, rebuilt every surface until the theater looked nearly whole again… but the screen remained broken.

    Mike helped where he could, shaping walls, restoring halls, carrying debris away on static waves. But he noticed something.

    Tenna wasn’t throwing the ruins away.

    He was moving them.

    The broken halls, the wreckage, the gouged remains of the fight... they didn’t vanish. Tenna shifted them far, far into the edges of the studio, down long new corridors he built himself, doors locked, lights dimmed. Places no one would go.

    Scarred spaces hidden away.

    Scars he didn’t want to look at… but couldn’t bear to erase.

    Mike said nothing at first. He understood, even if it unsettled him. The Z-rank room had been like that, too. Some wounds never leave you, no matter how many new doors you make. Maybe this was Tenna’s way of keeping them without letting them control him.

    Still… he didn’t like it.

    But Tenna was smiling again sometimes. Quiet, small smiles when he worked, when the stars gathered to hum faint songs as he mended the world. He only hosted for Kris, shy and trembling, but it was something. So Mike let it be.

    Until one day.

    Mike came into the theater to find Tenna standing before the screen. His claws were raised, sparks at the tips, antennas quivering with a nervous light, tail curling around his leg. For a long time, he didn’t move. Just stared at his reflection in the broken glass, like he was waiting for it to tell him what to do.

    Then, with a breathless flicker, he began.

    Sparks flowed from his claws into the screen, the jagged cracks fusing slowly, painfully, until the glass sealed itself whole. The light inside flickered weakly, then pulsed stronger, brighter, until the screen shone again like it had the day he was born.

    The wall behind it, though... the one Tenna had destroyed with his final slash that ended Friend... Tenna didn’t touch. He left it jagged, raw.

    Mike approached, hesitant. “You’re not fixing that?”

    Tenna’s screen darkened. His voice was soft, almost childlike. “...No. I want to remember.”

    Mike stilled. Every instinct told him to argue, to warn him, to make him bury that scar like he had the others. But when he looked at Tenna’s trembling antennas, the steady glow of the screen, he stopped.

    Because Mike could see it clearly... Mike understood it, had heard it, had felt it... he knew it...

 

    The prophecy.

 

    Clearer now, echoing in his static, as though the broken wall itself carried the words. The screen split in half... it chilled Mike.

    But he didn’t say anything. Not to Tenna.

    Tenna had chosen to remember the fight. And Mike… Mike couldn’t take that from him.

    The stars floated closer, their glow softening the shadow of the wall. Tenna’s claws brushed the edge of the repaired screen, his glass reflecting their light. His shoulders eased just a little, like something in him had settled.

    And that was when Mike felt it.

    The shift. The ripple of a presence entering the world.

    The human.

    They stepped into the ruined theater, eyes catching at once on Tenna’s form before the screen. Their face was unreadable, heavy with something both sorrowful and proud.

    Mike drifted back slightly, watching as Tenna turned, antennas trembling at the sight of them. The silence stretched...

    Tenna’s antennas flickered faintly as he stared at the human. For a long while, neither of them spoke, just standing there in the ruined theater, the screen glowing behind him and the scarred wall looming at his side.

    Then, slowly… Tenna’s glass curved upward.

    A smile. Small, wavering, but real.

    The human smiled back, stepping forward, closing the gap between them. Mike stayed back in the shadows, watching carefully, his static low but alert.

    They talked. At first, it was simple things... the snow outside, how quiet the studio had been, how the stars had been staying close, how Cyber City was doing. Each word seemed to unwind the tight coil in Tenna’s chest, his tail loosening around him, his shoulders settling. His antennas twitched at every word, his voice faltering at times but steadier the longer they went.

    The human’s presence was like air filling a cracked glass. Gentle. Patient. Something Tenna hadn’t realized how much he had missed.

    After a pause, the human asked softly, “Why haven’t you hosted yet?”

    Tenna froze. His glow dimmed, eyes darting away, screen tilting aside. He looked anywhere but at them. His claws dug faint grooves into his clothes.

    The human only chuckled under their breath, and when Tenna dared a glance back, they were smiling.

    “You can still do it.” They said. “After all… you don’t just host for them. You do it for your human, do you not?”

    Tenna’s screen jolted in shock. His whole body flickered. “H-How...”

    The human laughed again, light and quiet. “I told you… I have a gateway. I know what happens in the Light World. I can see pieces of it all.”

    Tenna tilted his head, curiosity sparking through the fear, antennas trembling. Even Mike stirred at that, static prickling through the air.

    The human’s eyes softened, a weight in their voice. “You wonder if I am close. I am not. Not at all.... not yet.” They shook their head, and for a moment something passed over their face, something neither Tenna nor Mike caught. Then it was gone, replaced by a faint smile.

    “But…” They went on. “I have a feeling. That thing I am searching for is there. That something is guiding us, all of us. I can feel it, even if I don’t know where it is.”

    Tenna leaned forward slightly, voice low. “Is it close?”

    The human’s eyes glowed faintly as they smiled. “Closer than you think. A light that you and I already hold high.”

    Tenna’s antennas bent down, puzzled. He didn’t understand. But the human only turned to the repaired screen, their hand brushing against its glowing surface. Their smile deepened, quiet and sure.

    “So. Progress.”

    Tenna nodded faintly, his screen dim. The human’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer, then drifted behind the screen. Their eyes softened as they caught the faint, jagged scars etched into the wall of the host’s screen.

    Mike noticed too. Static crackled low around him as he felt where the human’s thoughts jumped... to the prophecy. He bristled, not wanting that weight dragged into the open.

    But the human said nothing of it. Instead, they tilted their head and asked, calm but pointed, “Why are you still keeping those scars, Tenna? You have fixed everything else.”

    Tenna’s glow flickered. For a long moment, silence. Then, flat but shaking, he answered.

    “...Because I want to remember. What happened. What I lost. What I…” His claws twitched, scraping against his tail. “...what I became.”

    The human nodded gently, not prying further. They turned slightly, their voice softer now.

    “Well… sometimes scars can’t be healed.” They reached out, tapping Tenna’s chest. “But some can.”

    Tenna froze. His antennas twitched sharply, his tail flicking hard against the ground. “What… what is that supposed to mean?” His screen tilted sharply, annoyed, defensive.

    The human only smiled a little and gestured for him to follow. “Come. You will see.”

    Tenna hesitated, then obeyed. Mike trailed close, stars fluttering overhead, nervous and restless. The human winked at Mike, which shocked him. What did they have on their mind...

    They stepped outside, into the snow-dusted courtyard where it had all begun. The cracked pavement still bore faint marks from the storm of that battle, shadows of burned static and shattered tiles. The air itself felt heavier here.

    The human stopped, their breath visible in the cold. Then, suddenly, they asked.

    “So… the sticker’s name. It was Fifty, wasn’t it?”

    Tenna froze. His antennas drooped, his glow trembling as his claws curled into his tail. His body quivered with the weight of it.

    Mike’s whole signal wavered sharply. Static ripped through him like lightning. He knew what the human could say next. He braced, dreading it. That they would tell Tenna the truth, that Friend still lingered. He and Tenna’s stars above them tensed, sick with unease.

    But the human didn’t. They turned the words, almost casually. “Do you remember what I said?”

    Tenna’s screen snapped up, jaws parting, teeth bared in raw frustration. “That he was a curse!” He snarled, static flaring from his claws. “That he destroyed my world! That he used me, split me in half, left me...”

    His glow flashed white-hot. His voice cracked more with rage than grief now. The words weren’t mourning, they were venom.

    Mike flinched back, the stars fluttering nervously, their little sparks dimming. None of them dared to interrupt. But the human didn’t move. They didn’t even blink at Tenna’s fury. They only nodded, slow and sure, as if agreeing.

    And that calm, unshaken, steady, only made Tenna’s screen flare brighter, his tail whipping against the snow. His whole body trembled, caught between anger and despair. Tenna’s voice cracked into the snow, his claws slicing the air.

    “Fifty! He halved everything! He stopped me from advancing, from growing, from...” His antennas twitched violently, static spilling across his frame. “...from being!”

     His glow flared brighter, eyes wild as he staggered closer to the edge of his own words. “Even my darkner…” His voice caught, breaking as his screen dimmed with sudden ache. “...even the only one I had was halved.”

    The sound died in the frozen air.

    The human nodded once, calm and steady, their gaze heavy but not cruel.

    “Exactly.”

    Tenna froze, trembling, his tail wrapping tighter around his leg as if trying to hide the sudden stab of vulnerability. The desperation in him leaked out despite himself. He shook his head, his glow flickering in denial.

    Mike, static rising, finally snapped. “What in the fountain are you doing?!” His waves crashed sharply around him, furious, panicked.

    The human only turned and winked, as if teasing him, as if this was all part of something larger. Mike recoiled, lost again, static buzzing in frustrated confusion.

    Then, without hesitation, the human spread their arms wide. Their glow shimmered, red at first... but then it spun, twirling around their body as if shedding a layer. The crimson light burned out, and for a moment they looked almost hollow, almost endless.

    “Half, you say…” Their voice carried, not loud, but heavy enough to press into every heart in that place.

    They tilted their head back to the snow-filled sky. The flakes fell thicker, but softer, warmer. The storm itself seemed to bend to their presence.

    “I would say… that this time, even though Fifty was a curse…” Their smile flickered faintly. “...he gave you a miracle.”

    “Miracle, my ass!” Mike snarled, his form crackling with sharp annoyance. “What kind of twisted miracle is that supposed to be?”

    Tenna shook his head, bitter static dripping from his tail. “Yeah. What miracle? He… he only ever caused trouble. That’s all he was.”

    The human nodded, not disputing it. “Yep. Trouble. A weight you couldn’t shake. A curse, through and through.”

    They paused, eyes glinting as their voice grew sharper. “But this time…” Their frame shifted, their arms raised, and suddenly they posed, their movements sharp and deliberate, the same way they always did.

    Their fingers snapped.

    The snow above thickened instantly, falling harder, thicker. The air swirled with warmth despite the cold, like the storm itself had bent around something new.

    “HEY!” Mike roared, his waves surging angrily. The stars hissed, sparks spitting out as they flickered in protest. “Stop messing with things you don’t understand!”

    But Tenna… Tenna didn’t move. His glow flickered dim, then bright, then dim again... frozen, hypnotized. His antennas trembled, as if tuning into something far away. His claws loosened from his tail, his whole body caught in a pull he couldn’t explain.

    The human’s gaze softened on him. They knew. They knew he was feeling it.

    “Half destroyed…” Their voice cut through the storm, weaving into Tenna’s trembling glow. “...but half alive.”

    The snow swirled harder, faster, sparkling like embers.

    “It was wounded, yes. Broken, yes. But I could feel it even then… still fighting. Still wanting to be here.”

    Tenna’s screen shook, faint light reflecting off the snow. Slowly, step by step, he walked forward... into the snowfall, his eyes wide, his movements unsteady.

    Not because of the human.

    Because he felt it.

    Because somewhere, faint and fragile, the pull of something still lingered.

    The human’s voice cut through the storm, firm, unshaken. “You think half is the end? You think broken means gone? No. Sometimes, broken things cling harder. Sometimes half is enough.”

    Mike spat static, waves surging sharp. “Stop your cryptic nonsense! Do you even know what you are doing?!”

    But Tenna didn’t hear.

    Not a word.

    His screen flickered brighter, antennas trembling as he staggered forward into the snowfall. The static hum in his chest deepened, pulling, tugging, dragging him toward something unseen. His claws dragged across the frozen ground, each step heavier than the last.

    He didn’t stop.

    Couldn’t stop.

    Until, suddenly, he froze. His claws gripped his chest, trembling violently as his whole body buckled. His tail lashed once, sharp, as a weight pressed down inside him... choking, suffocating...

    ...then...

    It lifted.

    The world seemed to hold its breath.

    Up above, the sky split.

    Snow parted, darkness parted, and from the vast, endless night, a star flared to life. A comet, blazing, burning brighter than anything. Its light cut through the storm, cutting through him.

    And then... slowly, gracefully... it fell.

    The comet streaked downward, splitting the silence, its glow twisting, reshaping.

    And before his wide, unblinking screen, it became...

 

 

    His cloud.

 

 

    Not fading, not breaking, but whole... though scarred. Its soft body shimmered with stars, glowing constellations embedded into the wisps of its form, like the sky had stitched it back together. Or rather, someone had done it. Tenna wouldn’t learn who... him or the human.... the only thing he knew was that it was there.

    Tenna didn’t think.

    Didn’t breathe.

    He broke into a sprint on all fours, claws digging through snow, tail whipping behind him. Static flared from his screen, raw and desperate, as if the world itself couldn’t catch up with him.

    He leapt, higher than he ever had, arms reaching, claws open.

    And caught it.

    Like before... like then.

    The impact slammed him into the ground, back first, snow exploding around them. His claws locked tight around the cloud, clutching it against his chest. His antennas shook wildly as his screen dimmed and brightened in frantic bursts.

    The same movement, the same behavior, the same thing had happened again.

    But this time…

    The cloud didn’t cry.

    Didn’t fade.

    Didn’t slip through his arms.

    It stayed.

    Nestled in his claws, it trembled faintly, adjusting, reforming its body around the scars left behind. Starlight pulsed gently through it, like a heartbeat.

    And then… it lifted its little face to him.

    Its eyes glowed softly, fragile but steady.

 

 

    And it smiled.

 

 

 

    Tenna’s whole body convulsed. His claws trembled around it, pulling it closer against his chest. His antennas bent low as his screen warped, cracks of light flooding across his tail as static poured from him in waves. Tears started to fall again...

    “…my… my cloud?”

    His voice broke apart. Shattered.

    The cloud’s glow flickered again, warm, tender. The smile didn’t fade but rather grew stronger.

    And Tenna...

 

    He lost it.

 

 

    A sound tore out of him, raw and broken, deeper than any roar, any scream. His chest heaved as sobs poured out in uncontrollable waves, louder than the storm, louder than the world itself. His claws clutched the cloud so tightly his whole body shook, sparks bursting as if he was tearing himself apart just to hold it.

    Wails wracked through him, every note heavy with grief, joy, pain, and relief all tangled into one endless cry. His antennas flickered erratically, static surging out of him in choking bursts.

    He buried his screen against the cloud, tears streaking down his glass, soaking into the soft glow. His tail thrashed weakly against the ground, the only part of him fighting what the rest of him had surrendered to... pure emotion.

    The stars gathered close, their light trembling, weeping with him. Mike stood frozen, static silenced, his waves slack in stunned disbelief. Even the human didn’t speak, their smile dimming into quiet understanding as the snowfall slowed around them.

    Tenna’s wails didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Cries poured out into the arms of the one thing he thought he would never see again.

    But through it all, the cloud didn’t fade. Didn’t leave.

    It stayed.

    And for the first time, Tenna wasn’t crying over what he lost.

    He was crying because he had it back.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    The cloud never left his side.

    The human explained what Tenna already felt on his screen, that the little one had taken a wound deeper than most could survive. Half of its body still trembled faintly, its glow uneven, its wisps weaker. It needed time. Time to heal, time to gather itself back together.

    Tenna had only nodded, antennas lowering as his claws wrapped tighter around the cloud. He didn’t care how long it took. He wouldn’t let it out of his grasp again.

    And the cloud didn’t mind.

    It nestled into his antennas where it curled up, pressing against the faint static there as though the crackle soothed its wounds. Sometimes it dozed in the crook of his tail, little sparks of starlight humming softly like a purr. It wasn’t whole yet, but it was there. And that was enough.

    Mike watched all this with silent waves. He noticed how Tenna’s steps grew lighter, how the tremors in his claws faded, how laughter, weak at first, actually slipped out of him again after days of silence. Even if it cracked, even if it came with static hiccups, it was laughter.

    And when the laughter returned… so did Tenna.

    Days later, the studio lit up for the first time since the collapse.

    The monitors hummed, the stage lights glowed. The stars gathered, excited but hushed. Mike hovered in the booth, not daring to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.

    Then, on the main screen, the host appeared.

    Tenna.

    He stood in front of the camera, cloud nestled at his antennas like it belonged there. His antennas twitched faintly, nervous, his claws fidgeting just once before he clasped them together. Then, slowly… he smiled.

    Static flickered warm.

    “...I’m sorry.” His voice carried steady through the airwaves, softer than before but clear. “For the long hiatus. For being lost. For making you all wait…”

    His antennas lowered, and the cloud nudged against them, a faint sparkle pressing reassurance into them. His smile softened. “But... I’m back. To do what I was meant to do. To keep going.”

    He paused, letting silence breathe between them, then raised his claws with a brighter grin.

    “To host.”

    The stars erupted in light, voices chiming across the void. Mike leaned back in the booth, static sighing in relief, pride humming deep in his waves. The human watched quietly at the edge, their expression unreadable but their eyes soft.

    The cloud twirled once around his antennas, a little shimmer escaping it like starlight confetti, as if to cheer him on. Tenna laughed at that, really laughed, unguarded, and the sound filled the whole studio.

    "Say it with me, folks! IT'S TV TIME!"

    The shows returned slowly after that. Awkward at first, softer than before, sometimes cut short when the scars beneath his glass tugged at him. But the cloud was there, every single time, hovering near his antennas, humming faint static when he faltered. And the audience welcomed him back, not with judgment, but with warmth.

    Still hurt, yes.

    But healing.

    Slowly. Steadily.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    The shows grew brighter with each passing day.

    Tenna poured himself into them... not just as before, but more than before. His screen lit longer, his voice steadier, his claws no longer trembling when they reached for the camera. The cloud, healed faster than anyone expected, floated faithfully at his side, sparks and wisps getting stronger each day. Rain and snow started to appear in the studio, thanks to his tail dismay.

    The stars helped too. They danced through his world with renewed joy, weaving themselves into skits and jokes, humming their wordless songs in the background. But what they were more focused on was healing the cloud, each day finding something new to do to help it. The cloud was happy with the attention, and the stars seemed happy with their healing.

    They were experimenting more, which was troublesome sometimes since it would cause the cloud to cry or cause rainstorms in the studio. His tail was sparking harsher each time it happened, and Tenna would laugh if he wasn't the one shocked by it. It hurt, and he would fight the tail, trying to keep control while the others would laugh at him. Each day it was getting livelier, better... happier...

    And at last… he felt ready.

    Ready to step outside.

    It had been so long. Too long since he had left the safety of his snowy landscapes and dim hallways. But now, with the cloud alive and well and safely close to the stars, protected, his steps found direction again. He didn't want to go to the Cyber City yet, he wanted to go somewhere quieter. And he knew where...

    The Card Kingdom.

    When he pushed open the door to Seam’s shop, the familiar jingle of the bell above rang like a memory, like home in another world. For a heartbeat, Seam only stared, wide-eyed, frozen mid-step. The stillness lasted barely a second before it shattered. Seam leapt forward, ears twitching, tail curling with urgency.

    Seam didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop, just closed the gap between them in a rush and threw his arms around him.

    Tenna froze. Antennas shot up, screen blinking white with shock at the sudden closeness. But then, slowly, carefully, his claws rose, wrapping around Seam, returning the hug. He could feel the trembling in the cat’s shoulders, hear the tiny, shaky laugh under his breath.

    “I thought… I thought something had happened to you.” Seam whispered. “I felt it. The cracks. The scars in your world. The silence. I thought… maybe you were gone.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered with surprise. Seam had felt it? Across the kingdoms, across the snow? His claws tightened just faintly, a laugh bubbling out of him, not mocking but… relieved. Warm.

    “Me? Gone? Pfft.” His tail curled awkwardly as his screen dimmed into a grin. “You should know better. I don’t break that easily.”

    Seam pulled back, still holding his shoulders, studying him with eyes sharp and worried. Tenna tilted his head, antennas twitching nervously.

    And then, Seam raised his paw and smacked him lightly across the screen.

    “HEY—!” Tenna yelped, screen flashing indignantly, but Seam just narrowed his eyes.

    “That’s for making me worry, you idiot.” Seam muttered, though his whiskers twitched in a faint smile.

    Tenna blinked, then laughed harder than he had in weeks. The sound filled the little shop, bouncing between the shelves of trinkets and cards. He laughed until he bent forward, claws covering his screen, tail lashing in delight.

    When he straightened again, Seam’s stern look softened, and his paw brushed faintly his nose, annoying Tenna now. He smirked at him as he winked and walked to his own stage, behind the counter.

    “Welcome back, Mr Tenna!” He joked, and Tenna sighed happily.

    “...Glad to be back.” He smiled as he walked to his usual seat, now letting down his coat hood that still disguised him.

    Seam smirked, but as he looked at his antennas, he chuckled but didn't continue as the conversation started like it never had ended. They spoke again happily as Seam asked what had happened in his world. Seam had felt it, the despair and pain, and when he didn't see him in any shows, he got conserved. He tried to come to his world, but he still couldn't feel it. Tenna was thankful that he had a friend like Seam.

    Seam continued telling him that now he could catch Tenna’s world, but it was slowly appearing like the curse it had had disappeared. Tenna smiled sadly at that as he played with the rim of his glass. He finally told him about Fifty and what had happened to him, about the knight. He was careful not to mention the human to Seam, after all, they were still a myth.

    Seam listened with intent, not daring to interrupt him. He was looking genuinely impressed by Tenna’s strength and how he had managed to get that sticker down. His tail swayed when Tenna mentioned that now he had sharp teeth, causing him to say that he was becoming more of a cat person than a TV. Tenna fakely laughed at that.

    Tenna’s words trailed into something softer when he spoke of the cloud.

    He didn’t need to raise his voice, the weight of it was enough. How it was his first darkner, how he had thought it lost forever until it returned as though stitched together by some miracle. His claws fidgeted as he explained how it nestled in his antennas, how it steadied him when he faltered, how it became the quiet proof that not everything broken was gone.

    Seam’s whiskers twitched with a faint chuckle, the kind of laugh that hid behind riddles.

    “So... so…” Seam tilted their head, sharp eyes glinting. “...that little bow on your antenna isn’t an accessory after all.”

    Tenna froze. His antennas stiffened, screen flickering static white. “What...”

    Seam leaned across the counter with a paw that was far too quick, far too precise. Before Tenna could recoil, claws brushed against his antenna.

    A squeak escaped them, which made his whole frame jolt, frozen mid-breath as Seam tugged. And when Seam pulled back, Tenna immediately moved his claws on them and...

    That was not a bow.

    Not an accessory.

    But the cloud.

    It shimmered faintly in Tenna’s claws, little wisps curling mischievously like it had been caught sneaking sweets. Its glow wavered with exhaustion, but the grin it flicked Tenna’s way was sharp, mocking, a wordless.

    Oops...

    Tenna leapt from his seat, static sparking in his tail since it didn't enjoy seeing the cloud again, but it showed worry whatsoever.

    “What are you doing here?!” He snapped, screen blazing red with panic. “You were supposed to stay with Mike!”

    The cloud only rolled its glow, curling smugly in midair as it floated in front of his screen. It grimaced, then stuck close, as if refusing to budge. Tenna’s screen glitched into a scowl, claws clenching tight. He looked away, frustration rattling his antennas. But before he could berate it again, the cloud coughed, its glow hiccupping.

    And then Tenna saw it, or rather felt it in his forearm.

    The blinking light... it was flashing, but not for him.

    But for the cloud!

    Petrification.

    His whole frame stiffened. A hiss tore out of his throat, guttural and sharp, as panic swallowed the air. He reached for it, sparks dancing painfully across his claws, static sparking too hard to contain. “No! No, no, not again...”

    The cloud trembled, faint but steady, while he grimaced, annoyed with the short visitation, he was already turning, already ready to bolt from the shop. He couldn’t waste time. Not a second. His darkner was more important than words, than hiding, than anything else.

    But then...

    A spark brushed his claws. Not his own.

    Green ones, familiar ones.

    The faint, familiar warmth jolted him still. Healing. The same gentle current he had once felt when he had been petrifying, when a red glow steadied him and pulled him back.

    His head lifted slowly, screen flickering, disbelieving.

    And there, inside Seam’s shop, standing calmly amidst the shelves as though they had always been there...

    The human.

    Tenna froze, every wave of static falling into silence. His whole frame stiffened, tail curling in panic. He had broken the promise, he had revealed them. Seam’s sharp eyes flicked from Tenna to the human, realization sparking, and Tenna thought his nose would crack under the pressure.

    But the human only smiled.

    Soft, unbothered, as though this moment was never a mistake at all.

    The static still hissed at the edges of Tenna’s glass, claws wrapped too tight around the trembling cloud. His antennas twitched in frantic jerks, darting between Seam’s unreadable gaze and the human’s calm smile.

    And then Seam finally broke the silence.

    “…Well... well now.” Seam drawled, voice steady but with a twitch in his whiskers. “What a surprise.”

    It wasn’t shock, not really. It was something else... like the cat was playing a role, same as always, hiding the truth beneath practiced theatrics.

    Tenna blinked, his screen flashing static confusion. He turned to Seam, then to the human, his tail lashing nervously. “What... what do you mean, surprise?!”

    The human only laughed softly, shoulders rising in a little shrug. They nodded once at Seam, almost like a signal.

    Seam sighed, ears flicking back as though resigned. “So… he knows...”  He murmured to the human, and the human just smiled in return, quiet and knowing.

    Tenna’s screen glitched white, the static bursting loud. “WAIT, wait, wait, wait...” His antennas buzzed wildly, his claws tightening around the cloud that now snuggled against him as though entertained. “You... YOU know Seam?! This whole time?!”

    Both of them laughed. Just like that.

    Seam chuckled low, his paw brushing over his cards as he leaned back behind the counter. “Mr Tenna, do you remember what I told you? About my travels? The paths that wandered far beyond the kingdom’s edge?”

    Tenna’s tail flickered, remembering. He gave a hesitant nod.

    Seam’s whiskers curved in a smirk, eyes closing as his tail curled lazily. “This one...” He tipped his chin toward the human. “...was my old partner on those paths.”

    The static in Tenna’s screen froze. He whipped around to look at the human, antennas sparking in disbelief. The human only nodded, calm and amused, as though confirming the simplest truth in the world.

    Tenna stared. Then sighed, his shoulders sagging, static sputtering weakly. “Well then… I guess that means we know each other. What a plot twist, folks...”

    His screen flickered to a wide grin, his antennas twitching in a practiced flourish as his claws spread like on stage. “Finally, an introduction that writes itself!”

    The cloud snorted as it hit his antennas, staying on them. Seam actually laughed, and even the human chuckled. The tension broke, and the room filled with something lighter than the heavy silence that had been choking Tenna moments before.

    Seam leaned lazily on the counter, tail flicking with ease now. The human perched nearby, eyes glowing faintly with red but softened by warmth.

    Tenna leaned forward on the counter, claws tapping faintly against the wood as his screen flickered to a curious shade. His antennas tilted toward the human, twitching in question.

    “Alright then…” He muttered, trying to sound casual, though the static betrayed his nerves. “What are you doing here anyway? Just happened to stroll into this small shop?”

    The human only smiled, tilting their head. “Searching for you.”

    Tenna was caught off guard. “…Searching for me?” His bent antenna quirked upward skeptically.

    The human chuckled, eyes glinting faintly red. “I can feel you, Tenna. Everywhere. Wherever you anchor your world, I feel the echo.”

    Seam, listening, hummed low with amusement. He fetched a glass from beneath the counter, filled it, and slid it toward the human. “A trick I taught them, back in the day.” Seam explained, whiskers twitching.

    The human raised the glass in salute. “And it seems it has helped me, old friend.” They took a sip, laughter spilling easily between them.

    Tenna narrowed his eyes at that but said nothing, just watching. His tail twitched, restless.

    The human turned back to him, smiling. “I didn’t expect to find you here, of all places. This old shop in the backstreets… You know too many people, Tenna. And certainly not...” They smirked faintly. “...this stuffed cat.”

    “Stuffed?!” Seam put a paw to his chest with mock offense before smirking slyly. “I have my ways. And apparently, this ‘stuffed cat’ has a successful shop. Successful enough to pull in even… hm.” His eyes slid pointedly to Tenna. “...huge celebrities.”

    Tenna’s screen glitched to static blush, and he quickly grabbed the glass in front of him, sipping as though it could shield him from the stare. The cloud, perched smugly on his antennas, suddenly bonked him square across the screen.

    “Ghk—hey!” He sputtered, choking slightly, swatting at it with a claw. The cloud only hovered smugly, its glow twinkling like laughter. Tenna sighed, recognizing the nudge. He rubbed his temples, then looked back at the human. He knew what the cloud wanted him to do.

    “Thanks. For saving my ass again. Actually, for saying that little ass.”

    The cloud wasn't keen on that as it bonked Tenna again in the antennas, and even though he hissed since it targeted his bent antenna, he smiled at its tactics.

    The human’s smile warmed. “It’s my pleasure. After all the things I have seen you do, helping you out now and then feels like the least I can do.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered with embarrassed static. He ducked his head against the counter, but it was too late.

    Seam perked up, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Things you have seen?” He echoed, ears twitching. “Do tell, do tell.”

    And so the human did. Patiently, calmly, they spoke of what had happened, the scars in Tenna’s world, the fall into feral rage, the cloud’s wound, Tenna's near petrification when they had met him. Each word painted the weight Tenna had fought under. The cat listened silently, his usual riddling smile softened, eyes fixed on Tenna in quiet, genuine respect. Tenna groaned, screen pressed flat against the counter as if he could disappear through it.

    “Stop talking like I’m not even here…” He mumbled, static leaking embarrassment. “You remind me of Mike, you know. Knock it off!”

    Seam chuckled low, tapping the counter with a claw. “Better to have friends like this than many others.” He said, eyes glinting knowingly.

    Tenna hesitated, then finally raised his screen from the wood. His glow dimmed, but it was gentler now. “…Yeah. You’re right.”

    The room fell into an easier quiet. For a few moments, it felt almost normal again, glasses clinking, the soft shuffle of cards, the cloud humming faintly against Tenna’s antennas. Then Tenna tilted his head, studying the human. His screen flickered serious, static dimmed to a steady glow.

    “...You never answered me. Why were you searching for me?”

    The human’s smile faded. The glass trembled faintly in their hand, the red glow in their eyes dimming as though they weighed every word before speaking. Their lips pressed thin, then parted.

    “Do you remember… the knight?”

    The air went still.

    Tenna tensed. His claws twitched against his glass, static humming low in his screen. Slowly, reluctantly, he gave a stiff nod.

    Across the counter, Seam’s ears flicked, his sharp gaze sliding from the human back to Tenna. He didn’t say a word, but the way his paw tightened on his cards told enough. He knew where this was going.

    The human exhaled hard, shoulders sagging as if the weight of their words nearly broke them. “Do you remember…” Their voice trailed, hesitating, faltering.

    But Tenna understood. His screen dimmed, glass angled low as he spoke instead.

    “...If I remember... Friend?”

    Not daring to say his name again... only the cursed name he had chosen.

    The cloud stiffened immediately, glow trembling, its little wisps curling in distress. Tenna’s antennas twitched low, brushing against it, steadying, calming. The human nodded slowly. And Tenna nodded too, though his screen never lifted to meet their eyes.

    The silence stretched, heavy, the weight of unspoken things pressing against all three of them. Finally, the human’s lips parted again.

    “Do you remember what he said…?"

     Tenna hesitated but continued. "Heaven? The angel?”

    Seam’s tail lashed once, his whole frame tensing, fur bristling faintly. The human hesitated again as they watched Tenna, who was still looking at the counter. Yet it was Seam who broke the pause, not the human.

    “Do you remember something else, Mr Tenna?”

    Tenna’s screen flickered in confusion, staring at Seam now. How did Seam even... Of course, he knew. He was the human’s old partner. He must have fought knights himself. He must have seen what Tenna wished he hadn’t.

    Still, Tenna searched his thoughts, claws tightening around the rim of his glass. He didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to see it. But the way Seam’s eyes fixed on him, sharp and unblinking, left him no choice.

 

    Light.

 

    That word pulsed back through him like static. He remembered Friend’s voice, fractured, unhinged, muttering of it. Waiting for his light. Waiting for freedom.

    And then... his nose...

    The phantom pain crawled across it as his claws brushed over it. His screen flickered faintly. Friend had torn it out, creating his own way, creating his own “light,” whatever that had meant to him.

    The human’s gaze softened, watching Tenna with the patience of someone who already knew what he had realized. They didn’t push. They just… waited.

    Tenna’s antennas buzzed low, like insistent whispers urging him onward. He didn’t lash out... hadn't screamed, hadn't had an argument right now... not because Seam was watching, not even because of the cloud pressing steady reassurance against him.

    No.

    Because his antennas kept him grounded. They had always done that. Little shocks to drag him back to reality. The bent one twitched suddenly, snapping with a sharp spark. The jolt hissed through him, familiar, irritating.

    “Ghh—!” Tenna hissed, shoulders jerking, tail lashing at the sting.

    Both Seam and the human stared, surprised at the sound, but neither spoke. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know what his antennas had been doing for him all this time.

    Panting softly, static stuttering, Tenna finally raised his head. His screen dimmed low, heavy, and his claws tapped once against the counter.

    “He…” Tenna’s voice cracked faintly, but he forced it steady. “He kept saying... About his light. About how he was waiting for it. About how… it would set him free.”

    The words hung there, heavy.

    Seam’s paw twitched against his cards, eyes narrowing. The weight of Tenna’s words had thickened the shop air until even the cloud stayed quiet, its glow dimmed against the crook of his antenna. Neither Seam nor the human spoke at first. Both glanced away, their silence heavy with things unspoken.

    Finally, the human exhaled, slow, steady, and nodded. Their gaze slid back to Tenna, soft but unflinching.

    “Exactly.” They murmured, voice almost gentle. “Friend was telling you about a light.”

    They smiled faintly, though it carried no joy, and slid something onto the counter.

    It clattered faintly... small, jagged, and impossibly black.

    Tenna’s screen flickered white static as his claws froze against his glass. His antennas tilted sharply, every hum in his frame warning, hissing. Seam’s reaction was immediate, fur bristling, tail curling like a whip, pupils narrowing into slits. His paw hovered half-raised, claws flexed in disgust.

    The human didn’t answer. Their hand hovered over the fragment instead, holding it steady as though their very presence could keep its weight contained. Their red glow dimmed, sharpened, and for a long moment, they only stared at it.

    “This...” The human said, their tone steady again, though their lips were pressed thin. “...was what Friend was after. This ‘light.’ Something he thought would guide him. Lead him to his so-called heaven.”

    Tenna didn’t move. Couldn’t. His claws stayed tight on the rim of his glass, his screen dimmed low, antennas rigid with unease. The human’s eyes lingered on him, watching carefully, their voice dropping quieter.

    “The knight is the one who carries it. The one who gives it.” They paused. “That day… the knight was ready to give this to Friend. Maybe they had an agreement. Maybe Friend was already ready to follow.”

    Seam’s tail lashed, but he stayed silent, his gaze locked on Tenna now.

    The human’s eyes softened. “What’s sure, though, is…”

    They leaned closer, their words deliberate.

 

 

    “...what you are choosing.”

 

 

    Tenna’s screen buzzed faintly, static trembling at the edges. Slowly, reluctantly, he raised his gaze, claws loosening from the counter. The human’s eyes were on him, calm, patient, but sharp enough to cut. And Seam’s were too, unreadable but unblinking, both waiting.

    Tenna’s screen dimmed as his gaze fell back to the fragment. It sat there on the counter, small and jagged, but in the faint shop light… it shone. Even in black, it gleamed, like it wanted to mimic the stars.

    His antennas were still. Too still. Just moments ago, they had been snapping sparks through him, grounding him, dragging him away from the storm. Now? Nothing. No shocks, no stings. Silence. Static whispered faintly in his glass.

    Light… Heaven… Angel… Freedom.

    The words weren’t just echoes anymore. They pressed into the shop walls, vibrating in the wood, in the air, in his chest. Louder than Friend’s broken voice had ever made them. Louder than the silence after his death.

    Choosing.

    That was the word that drowned everything else.

    He remembered the prophecy, the entity’s voice curling like smoke around his antennas. A prophecy he never wanted to hear, never decided to learn... he had chosen... his own freedom. And now the choice burned in front of him yet again...

    A freedom painted in chains...

 

    A freedom...

 

                         ...that wasn't his.

 

    The cloud stirred against his antennas, hovering lower, its little glow curious as it tilted toward the fragment. But the curiosity twisted in Tenna’s static. Wrong. Too close to Friend’s. Too close to the ruin that had left only cracks

    Finally, his tail moved.

    Slow, deliberate. The three cords split, wires extending and unfurling like tentacles. They slithered over the fragment, curling tight, wrapping around it until no light... false or otherwise.... escaped.

    Then, Tenna pulled his tail back, curling it close to his body, tight, coiled, hiding the fragment away where no eyes could reach. Where no one else would touch it.

    For a heartbeat, the shop remained frozen. Seam’s claws dug faint marks into the wood of the counter. The human hadn’t moved an inch, red eyes sharp, searching, waiting. Even the cloud clung tight to Tenna’s bent antenna, glowing, trembling faintly.

    Tenna didn’t say anything, not looking at the fragment, and finally, after some time, he pulled the glass up and drank the forgotten drink he had.

    Finally, everyone breathed again.

    The air loosened. Seam’s shoulders eased back, though his eyes still glinted with caution. The human’s hand fell from the counter, their lips pressing thin but curved faintly in what might have been relief.

    Tenna didn’t speak. Not yet. He only lowered his screen, dimmed glow reflecting faintly in his glass, and tightened his tail coil. Then he set it down, and the sound echoed louder than it should have.

    His voice cut through the shop’s stillness, firm, deliberate. Both Seam and the human looked at him at once. Tenna’s screen burned low, steady.

    “I don’t need a light to guide me. I don’t need something false to show me where to walk. I have carved my own path, and I will stick to it.”

    For a moment, silence pressed heavy again. Then Seam’s mouth quirked, and a low, rasping laugh spilled out of him, curling in the dusty shop air like smoke. The human’s lips curved too, their sharp eyes softening as they tilted their head.

    “I have never met someone like you before.” The human said quietly.

    Tenna blinked at them, antennas twitching faintly. “What do you mean?”

    Seam rolled one card idly between his claws, though his smile had grown. “Whoever has seen the light...” He said, voice smooth but edged. “...has been put under.”

    Tenna’s screen flickered. “Under what?”

    Seam didn’t answer. He only smiled wider, letting his mismatched eyes glint in the dim shop light.

    The human leaned in, voice gentle, finishing for him. “Whoever sees the light… they are always influenced by it.”

    Tenna tilted his head, antennas buzzing low, before a sharp, half-joking static crackled from him. “…You too?”

    The human nodded without hesitation. Tenna froze. His static sputtered. He hadn’t expected them to admit it.

    But the human’s gaze didn’t waver. “I saw what it showed me. I followed it once. But I chose to change course. To walk away before it bound me. That’s the difference.”

    Tenna’s screen dimmed, his claws tapping lightly against the rim of his glass. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or unsettled.

    That was when Seam flicked his paw. A single card slid loose from the deck and fell flat onto the counter. Its face was sharp with ink, its edges frayed but resolute. Tenna’s antennas twitched toward it. A tarot card.

    Seam didn’t speak at first, only regarded the card with that same crooked smile, his mismatched eyes fixed squarely on Tenna. Then, slowly, he rasped.

    “The cards don’t lie.”

    Seam tapped the card he had laid down, claws resting lightly on its edge. His smile softened, but his voice carried weight.

    “This card…” He rasped. “...told me that a trap was played. That day. The same day it all happened.”

    His head tilted slightly, mismatched eyes catching the dim shop light. The button one glinted, stark and unyielding. Tenna’s screen flickered faintly as realization struck him.

    Seam continued, gaze falling back to the card. “I had seen it as well. That light.” His tone was quieter now, more raw. “It looked like the best thing… perfect, even. I touched it. Held it. Saw all that it promised.”

    For a moment, his smile faltered. He turned the card over with a deliberate flick of his paw, its face pressed down against the counter. And then he would pull it up again, and now a different card was there. His laugh that followed was soft, bitter.

    “But luck…” Seam said. “...can be tricky sometimes.”

    His grin sharpened again, though his eyes did not match it. “For me, it was simple. I chose not to obey. Not to fall under. So I pulled my own eye out.” He tapped the button eye with a claw, his tone chilling. “Better blind by my own hand than influenced by something false.”

    Tenna froze, static stuttering faintly through his screen. Shock prickled through him... horror, yes, but also deep respect. His antennas dipped low as he exhaled sharply, almost a sigh.

    “So… everyone falls under.” His voice was low, quiet, heavy.

    “Yes.” The human answered, their smile faint, a shadow of something softer. Their red glow dimmed around their edges. “Everyone… but you.”

    Tenna turned toward them, static glitching across his glass. “…How?” he asked, almost to himself. His claws traced the rim of his glass without thought. “How did I do it? What makes me different?”

    No one spoke. Seam only shuffled his deck, the soft snap of cards filling the silence. Then, with a practiced flick, he tossed several across the counter toward Tenna. Tenna stared at him. Seam’s grin widened. Static hummed through Tenna’s antennas. Slowly, hesitantly, his claw reached out. He pulled one card free from the scattered spread and flipped it over.

    The Fool Upright.

    Seam laughed low, delighted, his mismatched eyes gleaming. “Because… you chose your own freedom. Not a false one. Not something handed to you. Your own.”

    Tenna’s screen lit faintly, flickering static white around its edges. His claws tightened on the card. Because that was exactly what he had told the entity that day long ago. His freedom.

 

    His own.

    

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    Days blurred into each other, the way they often did when Tenna kept the shows rolling. His voice, his gestures, his catchphrases, everything flowed like it once had, as though nothing had happened. Yet beneath the polished hosting, his antennas still buzzed with quiet reminders, grounding him.

    And then, one evening, as the broadcast lights gleamed bright and steady, Tenna noticed her. A fawn. Young, nervous, but her eyes were curious in the way Lightners’ often were. Noelle. He heard her name whispered between laughter, Kris’s voice softer than usual when it carried it. The two of them clicked quickly, leaning toward one another, playing as though they had been friends for years.

    Tenna tilted his head, watching through his screen. He had never noticed her before. Maybe because of… everything that had happened. Either way, his Lightners seemed happy. Kris smiled genuinely, and that was enough for Tenna.

    He let them play, let them live. That was all he wanted.

    Mike, meanwhile, never stopped helping. The stars still zipped through the rafters of the studio, keeping the sets in order, but the work was heavier now. More shows demanded, more broadcasts streamed. Tenna pushed himself harder than he had in a long time, feeling something he hadn’t felt since before Friend... full control. The static of his world no longer fought him. He breathed easier, even in the quiet of falling snow, as he looked over his world. Stronger. Whole.

    And yet… still, no Darkners. He wondered when they would come. Wondered if they even would.

    The studio itself had been repaired, every crack sealed, every shattered light replaced. Even his room had been rebuilt, and Mike had practically beamed as he showed it off, almost prouder than Tenna himself.

    Later that day, in the bar, the jukebox hummed an old tune while the two of them sat together. Mike and Tenna were exhausted after a full day of work, so neither was ready to play music. They settled on letting the jukebox take over. Best idea because Mike was beaming that day, and Tenna didn't think he would if he had wasted his waves on playing music. Mike, awkward as ever but with a fire in his eyes, slid something across the counter. A photo.

    Tenna’s screen flickered when he saw it. It was a perfect capture of him when he was in the interview. Claws spread wide, his screen lit with static brightness as he shouted his catchphrase to the roaring audience. The stars gleamed around him. And behind it all, faint, almost like an afterimage, he could see a ripple of radiowaves. Mike’s signature.

    Beneath it, written in Mike’s familiar scrawl:

    “The best performance by the best host.”

    Tenna froze. Static whispered softly through his screen, and then… a smile. Genuine, unshaken. He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around Mike, pulling him close in a hug that startled him but had returned without a second thought.

    “…You idiot.” Tenna had muttered, but his voice had cracked too much to sell it.

    Mike just laughed, awkward and warm.

    Tenna stood in the snow, watching the ends of his world and following the edges of darkness, overseeing the snow. His tail hung motionless behind him, cords limp against the white. He glanced once at it as he continued walking with his claws behind his back.

    His outfit had changed lately. Sometimes he wore the blue suit, the one that the stars had made for the interview, but it was too perfect to put aside for only that. Other days, he wore a new white one, crisp and sharp, a reflection of the Lightners’ trends he saw buzzing across their channels.

    The darkners were still in a loss. They were worried about him, so Tenna had decided to calm them. When he appeared in the studio for a small interview, his voice steady, his grin back in place, he told them only what he needed to. That the studio had gone through technical difficulties. That there had been some issues behind the scenes. But now… everything was in control. He had meant the words. Really meant them. The darkners had responded with nothing but warmth, applause, and laughter. Showers of love, he hadn’t realized he had missed until it hit him again in waves.

    Sometimes, he went to see the human, wandering beside them in their patrols. They spoke of anything, and Tenna found himself following their lead without hesitation. When fights broke out, he stood beside them, screen burning brighter, claws sparking, teeth ready to go. Not because he had to. Because he owed them. And because they had already done more for him than he ever thought he deserved.

    Seam, meanwhile, was Seam. Annoying in the way only Seam could be, smirking through half-truths and cryptic quips whenever Tenna visited the shop. Tenna rolled his antennas at it, sometimes snapped back, but he didn’t mind anymore...

 

    Suddenly, something moved!

 

    It leapt out of a pile of snow ahead of him suddenly, wisps flaring, and Tenna froze on the spot. Ah! His cloud! His screen blinked white, claws tightening as if startled, and the cloud wheezed with laughter, bouncing happily in the snowdrift. Tenna tilted his head, then sighed dramatically, pretending to clutch at his screen.

    “Oh, you got me!” He muttered with mock despair, antennas twitching in exaggerated defeat.

    The cloud beamed, delighted, and zipped off again, kicking up sparks of snow in its wake. Tenna followed it. He didn’t mind. The cloud had grown stronger, brighter, though its form hadn’t changed yet. He wondered when it would. But even now, it was more open, more playful, no longer hiding in shadows. It was happy in the studio, among the stars and the lights.

    That was enough. More than enough.

    Still, as he trudged after it through the snow, his thoughts drifted again. Back to Seam. Seam had told him once more about the clown. How he had been acting, loud, erratic, laughing too sharply at his own words. Seam’s voice had been careful, neutral, but Tenna could tell there was something else under it. A flicker of unease. Or... interest. Maybe both.

    Tenna had laughed it off, screen flashing with mock brightness. “Maybe... you are feeling something, Seam. Ever think of that?”

    He would never forget how Seam’s expression had faltered. A twitch of whiskers, a pause in their shuffle of cards, a break in character. Seam had recovered quickly, of course, smirking again, brushing it away with a cryptic hum. But Tenna remembered. He would always remember.

    He stopped moving, head tilting back as he stared upward. Snow spiraled down in lazy flakes, catching the glow of his screen. His antennas twitched, static humming low.

    The tarot card.

    Freedom.

    He had put it beside his other photos, but this one was resting against the vanity mirror. Not framed, not displayed like a memory. No. It wasn’t something to preserve... it was something to remind him. Every time his reflection caught the bent edge of the card, it whispered what he had chosen. What he would keep choosing.

    But still… he remembered the way everyone had looked at him that day. The human’s sharp patience, Seam’s narrow eyes, even the cloud pressed tense against his antenna. The way the air had been heavy with that black light. That damn black fragment...

    And Friend.

    How the “light” had changed him. Twisted him. Broken him into pieces that could no longer be put back together. He flexed his claws, screen dimming faintly.

    Why hadn’t it touched him the same way? Why hadn’t he felt the pull that everyone else felt?

   Tenna stopped at the edge of the bridge. His claws stayed behind him, his screen flickering in the reflection of it. His tail still not moving him, staying put.

    This was where it all happened.

    Tenna looked down over the bridge where the forcesaken graveyard was supposed to be. He had hidden it as well as a damn scar into his system, into his world, and life. It had brought him so many things and yet so much grief. An annoying sight! Maybe that's why Tenna wasn't affected by that damn black light. That entity he had met there had tried to show him what it could offer, but he had refused from the first time he had to choose. It was written...

    After all, that entity was stronger than the knight, the knight were more influenced by them. That's why he was stronger against that light. He knew what it was trying to offer him and yet... he was stronger than that. He knew what he was after, and he would stay put on it.

    Tenna sighed again as he looked ahead towards the darkness. His tail was lifted.

    The cords trembled faintly against the damn disease he was still carrying around. They never opened, not fully, his three wires locked tight, gouging deep around the shard. The fragment pulsed once, faintly, and Tenna’s screen flickered white.

    He laughed. Flat. Without emotion.

    Days had passed, weeks even, and still he hadn’t let it go. He carried it everywhere, trailing him like a tether, dragging weight against his spine. He told himself he hadn’t opened it because he was cautious. That he was waiting. That he was searching for the best action...

    But the truth was simpler.

    He didn’t know what to do with it.

    He had caught the stars whispering sometimes, their voices bouncing in the rafters. Why was he clutching his tail? Why won’t he let it go? Let it rest... after all, they didn't know what was inside it, only he and his cloud. Not even Mike, who was also watching his tail with worry. Finally, one day, he asked him directly. Tenna only tilted his screen, letting his voice stretch into practiced ease.

    “It’s still healing. Don’t worry about it.”

    And they had believed him.

    …Or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they were only pretending to. Maybe they knew, the same way he knew, that he wasn’t a very good liar. That he was hiding something from them, but it was for the best for them, that's why they didn't stay put on it.

    Tenna’s claws flexed against the bridge railing. Snow slid between the gaps. His tail shuddered behind him, cords straining against themselves. Or maybe he was a good liar... where he needed to be.

    He knew.

    Friend.

    He could feel it... feel him. His aura hadn’t vanished. It clung like a shadow, a smear across the edges of his world. Every time Tenna tried to breathe, tried to forget, that familiar pressure reminded him.

    He had killed him.

    On the stage, under the roar of lights, he had ended him. He had felt it. He had stood at the scene for days after, frozen in the ghost of Friend’s aura, waiting for the silence to finally settle. But it never had.

 

    Because Friend was never just one.

 

    Tenna’s screen dimmed, static curling inward.

    Friend had been Fifty. A sticker sheet. One dead… another peeled up to take its place. He remembered the cheap slogans, the endless copies, the way the crowds collected him like novelty.

    A joke that wouldn’t end.

    Of course, he was still alive.

    Of course, he hadn’t killed him.

 

    The discounts never stopped.

 

    And worse, they were starting to get popular again.

    Tenna’s antennas buzzed, teeth gritting in his screen a sharp reminder of that day. The thought gnawed at him... how many more times would he have to fight him? How many more selves were out there, corrupted from that damn darkness?

    Tenna’s antennas hissed, the static thick with his irritation. He wanted to claw at the air, tear away the lingering taste of Friend’s aura that still pressed against the edges of his world. Always there. Always smirking.

    But... a flicker of movement.

    His cloud.

    It zipped through the snow again, spinning circles, scooping up handfuls of frost and tossing them skyward like glitter. Its laughter wheezed and bubbled through the cold, brighter than any light.

    Tenna stilled. His screen softened, the static smoothing to a quiet glow. He smiled, genuine, fragile, but true.

    Yes. He had lost many things that day... pieces of himself, pieces of his world... but he had gained more. He was stronger now. He was here. And the cloud, Mike, the stars, his Lightners… all of them were proof.

    Maybe that was the answer.

    Friend was nothing but a disease. A nuisance dressed up as entertainment.

    And diseases could be cut out. One by one.

    His antennas buzzed with the thought, sharp and certain. Each sticker that crawled back, each false “Friend” that peeled itself into being… he would destroy them. All of them. Until the discount sheets were gone for good.

    His tail lifted again, cords trembling, wires locking against the shard like a heartbeat. Tenna looked at it. Stared.

    He nodded silently at it. At himself.

    Then, with one long breath, he stepped to the edge of the bridge and let go.

    The tail snapped back, hurling the fragment away into the darkness. It tumbled through snow, past the broken remains of old sets and screens, before crashing into the dead soil of the graveyard below. A ringing silence followed.

    Tenna’s shoulders eased. His claws lowered. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, his chest felt lighter. The static on his screen cleared, just a little.

    But below... the fragment twitched.

    As it sank into the dirty dirt, a single vein of black stretched outward. Then another. Small, silent threads, creeping from the fragment as it was slowly getting inside the soil as it was...

    ...was growing.

    Something waiting.

    Tenna didn’t see it. His screen still glowed faintly as he turned away, following the sound of his cloud’s wheezing laughter through the snow.

    He let himself laugh too, antennas buzzing warm. For now, he was free.

 

 

 

    -ooo-

 

 

 

    Tenna’s claws dragged across the snow, leaving deep, jagged lines as he walked. Static buzzed faintly in his antennas, irritation bleeding out of him in waves. The fight had been long... too long... for what it was worth. A damn TV. Feral, ugly, loud, but not even close to him. They weren’t Friend, they weren’t a knight, they weren’t anything but noise, but still, it had fought him with an anger that almost amused him. Almost.

    He had sent it away eventually, still not liking killing. His claws sharper than glass, his static roaring, his body moving with strength he didn’t always acknowledge. He outranked it, he had noticed, which was a good sight. Maybe it was because he had beaten Friend, or maybe the knight. After all, how did Tenna climb ranks? They must have been both feral too, higher than Tenna’s, that's why his rank was higher now.

    The snow fell heavier, blanketing the battlefield in white. Good. Better. He could pretend the fight had never happened. His claws slid behind his back as he started walking again, leaving the mess to vanish.

    His world was quiet. His world was routine. Just like before. He oversaw, he patrolled, he performed when he had to. He kept things moving, always moving. He had thought it would feel hollow, but it didn’t. Not entirely. Not when he could see Kris grow. The Lightner moved differently now, taller, sharper, eyes a little more worn but still… bright. Tenna let himself watch through the screens sometimes. Kris laughed with Noelle and Asriel, as well as Dess, who played like they had always belonged together. They were growing, and Tenna couldn't be more thankful for that.

    Seam was the same... infuriatingly the same. Cryptic words, crooked smiles, cards shuffling endlessly between his claws. Tenna rolled his antennas at him every visit, sometimes snapped back, but he never stopped going. He didn’t even know why.... well... maybe he knew... a new friend...

    Mike and the stars… still working, still fixing, still hovering around him. Mike’s awkward grin never quite left, his radio-waves always leaking warmth no matter how tired he was. The stars kept the rafters alive, bouncing, laughing, keeping the studio’s heart beating.

    And the human… the human patrolled like he did. They fought harder than before, their routes longer, sharper, more dangerous now that Cyber City was rising again. His world as well was getting stronger, lighter but... not with darkners, no. Never darkners! Always enemies.

    Tenna’s antennas twitched faintly, static humming low as he walked through the snow. The cloud zipped a few paces ahead of him, swirling, scattering flakes in glowing wisps. Stronger. Every day, it grew sharper, brighter, no longer shy in its movements. And yet… its form remained the same.

    That annoyed him.

    It should have changed by now. He knew it. Something stronger should have bloomed from that glow, from that spark that had clung to him all this time. Maybe it needed time. Or maybe, just maybe, Tenna wasn’t doing enough. His screen dimmed with the thought, but he kept moving, claws tucked behind his back.

    And still no Darkners. None. He had rebuilt his world, made it shine again, let the lights blaze stronger than ever, and yet the seats stayed empty. No faces, no laughter, no performers. Only him, the stars, and his damn routines. He should have been used to it by now, but the quiet gnawed at him as well as the tiredness of the many shows he performed.

    At least today, there was no show to host. No camera. Today was Kris’s birthday, and Tenna had given up his stage willingly. His DVD player had the spotlight, whirring proudly as it played the music for the Lightners.

    Tenna leaned against the seat, screen lit with a huge, genuine smile as he watched. The kids ran around, laughter bouncing through the air as Kris grinned, cheeks lit by the glow of candles. Toriel clapped softly, guiding Kris closer as the crowd counted down.

    Blow.

    The candles dimmed, and applause erupted around them. Kris’s eyes glimmered, softer, warmer than Tenna had seen in a long time. They opened gifts next, clothes Kris clearly hated, shoved aside with barely a glance, toys they ignored until they reached the small box with some figures.

    Tenna tilted his head, antennas perking. Kris’s eyes lit up at once. They handed the pieces to their friends, and in no time, all of them were playing, battling, laughing with the little figures in the flickering light. Their joy rippled through the room, so alive it almost made Tenna’s own screen flicker.

    He didn’t look away. He couldn’t.

    Toriel slid in a new CD in his player now that the kids were occupied. The soft hum of jazz filled the space, rich and slow. Odd choice for a child’s birthday, but it didn’t matter. The Lightners were content. They laughed, they swayed. With that, Tenna had left the stage.

    The snow crunched under his claws, heavy flakes swallowing the world in white as he kept to his patrol. Behind him, faint and warm, the jazz music still carried from the studio, muffled but steady. Tenna’s antennas twitched at the sound. Then, without warning, he stopped.

    How did he hear the music?

    His screen flickered. And he laughed.

    Of course. That was it. His influence, his reach, it was stronger now. Why? Because he was stronger. Bigger. Taller. The memory jolted through him like static. That first morning, he had woken up... different.

    He hadn’t even realized it at first. He had been asleep, too deep in dreams. Mike had been the first. He had knocked, then called, then yelled when Tenna didn’t answer his waves. Unusual, suspicious. Mike’s voice was sharp with worry when he finally shoved the door open...

    ...and froze.

    Tenna had blinked up at him, dazed, sprawled on a bed splintered to ruins beneath his weight. His antennas drooped over his face, static hissing softly, as he stared up at the ceiling that was far too close.

    Mike hadn’t moved. Hadn’t breathed. Just stared.

    Then Tenna tried to sit up. Tried to climb out. The ceiling cracked when his screen struck it, and his claws barely managed to catch himself before knocking the wall down completely. His tail showed his aggression, but that was stopped when...

    Mike’s laughter broke. Choked, startled, helpless laughter. The stars zipped in after him, wide-eyed, and even the cloud peeked in before bursting into sparks of mirth.

    “A—ahah—A growth spurt! We might....” His voice cracked between fits. “...want a new bed, huh? Aren't I right?”

    Tenna hadn’t laughed then. Not once. His screen had burned bright white as he glared, swatting at the air in annoyance. A new bed? He had destroyed his favorite! He couldn’t walk through the damn doors without slamming his screen, couldn’t stand straight without punching holes in the ceiling. Every step made something crack or bend or break.

    He hated it.

    Especially when it kept happening again. And again. One moment normal, the next… taller, longer, claws scraping against ceiling lamps he had once ducked under. Every time his emotions twisted, his size slipped with them. Sadness made him shrink, curling inward, too small. Rage or joy pulled him larger, looming, overwhelming.

    It took him days to get it under control. Days of smashed doorframes, replaced rafters, ceilings patched more times than Mike could count. But eventually… he had managed it. He could hold it, shape it, bend it at will. Not perfectly, no, but enough. He could decide what height to keep, what form to hold. He settled on the one he had always worn, familiar and safe.

    And when he needed it?

    He could change.

    Tenna’s laugh cut into the night air, low and genuine this time. His antennas curled as he pressed his claws behind his back again, static flaring softly across his screen. Annoying as it had been, it was his now. Another power. Another weapon.

    The snow swirled heavily as Tenna shifted again, his frame stretching taller, taller, until the trees seemed smaller beneath him. Static crackled across his screen with the effort, claws flexing wide as his antennas arced forward. The cloud zipped happily around him, sparking in delight, egging him on. They played in the snow as Tenna had forgotten the fight just moments ago.

    Tenna grinned, amused at the cloud excitement and playfulness, and as he took another step to mess with it...

    ...he slipped.

    How original...

    His screen flared white as the snow gave way under his weight. His body toppled, crashing down through a hidden slope, sliding for what felt like forever before... he landed hard in a drift below.

    The cloud squeaked and darted after him, whirling anxious loops in the air. Tenna groaned, pushing himself up from the snow. His antennas twitched irritably as he brushed powder off his screen.

    “…Yet another time!” He muttered with a hiss. “I slip. Or rather... fall into thin air. This is getting ridiculous." Still, his laugh followed, low and wry. “But… every time I fall, something happens, doesn’t it?”

    He thought back, meeting Mike, facing the entity, finding the human. Each one had come after a fall. Would it be hilarious if it happened again? Something important?

    His tail, curled tight from the tumble, uncoiled slowly behind him. The cloud floated close, still buzzing with worry, before turning its glow toward the edge of the snow.

    Tenna tilted his head at it. His grin flickered. “What is it? Hm? …Would I be lucky, you think?” He said as he was ready to climb the slope when he froze.

    The jazz music from above was gone. Too far now. He couldn’t hear it at all. He slowly looked where the cloud had stayed silently and watched ahead.

    ...there it was.

    Music. Not from the studio. From the opposite side.

    A low, brassy noise cut through the air, sharp and echoing off the walls of ice. Not just jazz music anymore. Something like... a trumpet?

    Tenna’s antennas twitched as he turned, claws tightening at his sides. The cloud floated after him silently, expectant, as he began to walk toward the sound. The closer he got, the louder it grew. Not music anymore, not quite. The trumpet’s blare broke, warped, carried into something else...

    A voice.

    Tenna’s steps slowed. His screen dimmed slightly as he edged around a frost wall, snow crunching low beneath his claws. It was close! Slowly and steadily, he moved from behind a huge wall of ice and...

     ...then he saw it.

    A shadow. No... a shadow... guy? Dark, curled figure half-buried in snow, struggling. His leg was pinned beneath a massive block of ice, too heavy to shift. His body shook with each attempt, the noise of the trumpet breaking into ragged, desperate sounds. He was speaking, Tenna was sure of that, but Tenna wasn't sure what. He could hear some words but not entirely... maybe he needed to practice his music notes...

    The two of them froze when their eyes met.

    Tenna’s antennas rose. His screen flared faintly, static whispering in the silence. His tail stayed behind him, locked into a stance as no one moved, not even the cloud.

 

                This one…

 

                       Tenna knew.

 

                             ... was no enemy. No feral...

 

    This was a darkner...

 

 

 

    His darkner!

 

Notes:

So... it seems that Tenna is back on track! He even has gotten his first darkner! Let's see how he will continue from here! Maybe more fights? Maybe Friend? Who knows?
See you in the next one!