Work Text:
Hatred.
It was not an unfamiliar feeling to the core(which now took the form of it’s old host, Darcy). But it felt it more now than ever, seeing as it’s empire was irrecoverable destroyed, thanks to those three and Aldrich’s useless son.
However, a part of it survived in Marcy, and in doing so, gave the core a second chance at revenge. Without the box it would have to playing the long game, but it had waited for millennia and it wouldn’t wait again.
Darcy grinned as it imagined Marcy’s despair at losing her body all over again. Stupid girl, it thought, she was ours for eternity the moment the helmet slide on her head…
Darcy entered a part of Marcy’s mind that seemed… forgien. It was sure it had seen ever inch of her mind when she had been absorbed, yet this place-a basement of sorts, one far more primitive and dirty than the one that used to house its old body-felt alien.
Darcy heard the sound of metal grating on metal. It turned to see a figure. An adult human male, skin patched and burned, yellow eyes filled with malice, wielded some kind of clawed glove. “You…” he said, in a deep sound gravel. “You scent is different from the brat.”
“We are not Marcy.” Darcy said authoritatively. “We are the core, a collective of Amphibia’s greatest mind, unified into a single consciousness.” “Ah, I see. Your just squatting here.” The man said, not at all taking Darcy at all seriously. “We are not squatters! This body is rightly outs! It’s uppity host dared to steal it from us. ” Darcy exclaimed, pulling out a flame scythe. “Once we reclaim it, we’ll destroy this miserable planet, starting with you!”
Darcy sliced the man in half. They walked over to see their kill, his tongue sticking out. “Psyche.” He said before turning into smoke and entering Darcy’s mouth. That was already unpleasant, but this man-Fred Krueger, as it learned-was entering it’s mind, pilthering it’s thoughts. It felt utterly violated.
Darcy passed out. When it awoke, it and Freddy were in a field, containing the Newtopians castle, now nothing more than a ruin reclaimed by nature. “What-what is the meaning of this!? Darcy demanded. “Why, it’s your future.” Freddy mocked. “You’ve got no one left to boss around or conquer. Your a relic, a hazbin, completely forgotten”
Darcy stared in utter horror. “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Freddy chimed. “Nothing beside remains.“
“You…” Darcy spat, it’s smarmy and confidence now completely evaporated. “You’re nothing compared to us! You’re…you’re just a fool! A clown! A mere jester that dares to sneer at Newtopias kings!” “Okay, your majesty!” Freddy mocked. “But unfortunately, there’s not a damn thing you can do to me…cause I’m already dead.”
Darcy was dumbstruck. In all its years, this measly human did what it couldn’t in all the years of its existence. He did merely cheat death. He transcended it.
The ground beneath Darcy gave way, as the tranquility landscape turned hellish. Darcy turned to see numerous flaming blades emerging from the ground, ready to impale it. “Please, let us make a deal!” Darcy pleaded. “Not to proud to beg?” Freddy chuckled. “Alight. I’ll keep your in case I need yah. But I’m gonna keep your some where close to my heart.”
Dar y felt itself begin to shrink. Eventually it’s empty armor remained, from it emerged to core new form; a small, black axolotl. Freddy stuffed it inside a glass jar, before shaking it, laughing maniacally.
Fear.
It was not a unfamiliar feeling to the core. One could say, it was fear that motivated it’s entire being. But now, it understood a new feeling, one it had brought to it victims countless times before: despair.
