Chapter Text
His fingertips were numb.
Flug was holding two wires in his right hand, two wires that were usually one wire- a wire that gave the main navigational console power. He kept forgetting that, though, and occasionally his gloves drifted towards the exposed ends he was forcing together. His rubber gloves nullified most of the shock, but the effect was still there, and had occurred frequently enough to leave a dull buzzing in his fingers.
He’d managed to kick the autopilot back online, yet it was more of a creature comfort than anything. Despite the program’s involvement, the scientist found himself in constant focus. Flug’s left hand flitted around the half-wrecked console, pushing the ship up as it started drifting downwards, or left when it went too right, or right when it went too left, and so on.
Demencia, if only unconsciously, seemed to want to get back to the island in one piece. Instead of bothering Flug and potentially crashing the ship, she had repurposed a severed, giant griffon head towards antagonizing 5.0.5.. No matter the way Flug glared at her, she continued to terrorize the bear. Trapped at the console, Flug had to try to ignore 5.0.5.’s frightened noises. Instead he focused on the gentle whistling caused by the salty air traveling through their shattered windows. The open air was almost peaceful. If only he could appreciate it.
It was out of habit that he glanced up, after adjusting their height, and noticed a familiar shape. A hint of land against the endless sea.
“Oh thank evil.” He groaned, eager to get back on the ground.
Demencia squealed. Flug felt something inside of him break loose and plummet to the bottom of his stomach. There was the thud of something heavy and feathery hitting the ground, and the slither of a lizard-girl rapidly approaching the window.
She always pressed herself against the window when the island came into view.
Except there was no window.
“Dem!”
Demencia’s boots left the ground next to Flug. His hand shot out on reflex- pure, unadulterated reflex, nothing else- and latched onto the lower half of her long hair.
Unfortunately, it was at this moment that Flug was aware that he didn’t have nearly enough strength to stop the eager girl from falling at top-speeds.
But instead of being dragged out to the waiting sea below, Demencia had latched onto one of the beams between the shattered windows, and skittered up it. She looped the beam before perching on it like a pirate.
While much better than falling, Flug’s limp body followed her path exactly, hand still tangled in her hair. Whereas Demencia had halted her ascent with a firm grip against the beam, Flug ended his journey with his face being introduced to the beam.
“Doc, Doc! Guess what? I can see Black Hat’s office from here!” Demencia chirped.
“Wow, really?” He spoke around the metal support.
“Uh, wait,” she tilted her head, “where’d it-?”
Flug peeled his bag off of the beam with an almost comedic noise, shook his head to reorient himself, and firstly noticed an all-encompassing blue. Then he noticed a growing whistling sound.
“The ship.” He said, wide-eyed.
“Huh?”
“The- the ship! The ship-“ Flug ripped her hand from her hair, taking some green strands with it, and gracelessly descended the beam. He hit the floor before going straight to the console’s side. He feverishly sorted through the pile of wires next to the console- he found the console’s half of the wire, but couldn’t find the charged one.
He could feel gravity turning, and had to adjust himself in kind. Instead of two feet on the floor, one foot was now against the console.
That’s why Flug barely noticed as 5.0.5. began looking with him, innocently looking for whatever Flug was looking for. While Flug worked like a man on a mission, the bear searched methodically, uncomprehending of their impending doom.
“Hm,” Demencia combed through her messy hair while tapping her foot against the beam, adjusting to the change in gravity with irritating ease, "it's almost like a certain hair-hating doctor is dragging the whole ship down with his bad mood!”
Flug grit his teeth, becoming even more absorbed in his task. 5.0.5., simultaneously, found a buzzing wire with an exposed end. 5.0.5.’s paw tapped the end of the wire curiously, only to emit a yelp when the thing sparked and sent his fur exploding outwards. Flug locked onto the wire like a target, and yanked it from 5.0.5.’s hold.
“Sorry 5.0.5.! Thank you! I’ll- I’ll get you a bandaid when we…” Flug turned to the windows, “we…”
The ocean was very, very close.
He squeezed the two wires together in his right hand. The electricity jolted through his arm and back into the now-lit console. With his left hand, he clutched the navigational lever and yanked down. Hard.
The front of the ship banked upwards, the sky visible once more. The back of the ship dipped below the waters before straightening out. Mist sprayed through the broken viewport, heavy at first before becoming inconsistent sprays. Demencia whooped from her front-row seat, and 5.0.5. made a sound similar to pleading for his life. Flug shared none of Demencia’s enthusiasm and all of 5.0.5.’s energy, but kept his mouth glued shut, eyes taking in as much as they could of their present situation.
They were still too close to the water, skimming against its surface. He kept pulling higher, but they weren’t getting any higher, and the sandy beach was quickly approaching. If there was water in their jets, this was as high as they could go. He had to construct a plan, something smart and quick, but time was unforgiving. He couldn’t stop, not now, not when- he could only-
“BRACE!” He yelped, but was unsure how to do so himself without letting go of the controls. He just had to trust the nose of the ship cleared the land enough not to catch and send him through the gaping hole in their front. He saw Demencia scamper further up the beam, and heard 5.0.5. whine. Then the ship raked against the ground with a screech of its own.
The sandy shores came and went, along with the sound of relaxing Hat-Bots being ripped apart by the ship’s quick approach like bugs on a windshield. The ship scraped across the sand, then pavement, and Flug’s heart froze as one of the on-site factories was next on the list. But, with a quick tug, the ship turned and merely clipped it instead. He ignored his panicked brain, and trusted his gut instead. He turned with the desperation of a man who knew the streets of the island intimately, and the knowledge that Black Hat would gut him if he didn’t minimize damage as much as possible.
But the increased friction garnered by the asphalt proved useful, as their speed- as quick as it was- swiftly dropped to a point where Flug’s mind could whirr again. With the careful decision to do something reckless, Flug yanked the controls to the right, and forced the ship on its side- finally slowing it to a stop.
Flug, shaking, let go of the controls, ending up on the ship’s wall-turned-floor.
“Nice driving, Doc.” Demencia landed on top of him looking vaguely annoyed, but overall pleased with her soft landing.
5.0.5. slipped from elsewhere, and ended up on top of her.
Demencia hissed. “Get off of me, you lousy bear!”
“My ribs.” Flug croaked from underneath all the weight.
5.0.5. scrambled off of them, making apologetic noises. Demencia scurried back towards the open front of the ship, using her strength and nails to leave something grabbable in the metal. Tired and surprised he was still alive, Flug ignored the damage in favor of convenience, and began using Demencia’s handholds to get out. He motioned for 5.0.5. to follow, and he did.
“Please don’t be a wreck, please don’t be a wreck…” Flug muttered to himself before peeking out the top of the ship. He looked towards where they came from. There were scraps of metal (mostly from the Hat-Bots they squished at the beach), a few dents in the road and buildings, but nothing horrible. It could be fixed rather easily, in fact. All in all, he was rather lucky. If he worked quickly, he could put the remaining Hat-Bots on cleanup duty, and fix it all before Black Hat noticed. The ship was an entirely different issue, but remediable nonetheless-
Then he turned around.
They had stopped right before the front yard of the mansion. The gates, thankfully, were untouched. The lawn was undisturbed. But inside the manor’s window stood Black Hat, who seemed entirely aware of everything that happened to his island.
Even the part of Flug that had been deviously crafting romantic, alternate realities was quiet under such a glare.
Flug was done for.
Black Hat disappeared from the window, and Demencia- who’d been at the base of the wrecked ship- squealed delightedly. Flug looked to the bear who was just a bit below him.
“5.0.5., if I die, live a good life. It’s your papa’s last wish that yoGHK-” Flug’s heartfelt speech was cut short via a shadowy tentacle around his neck. He was ripped from his spot on the ship and tossed to the ground. Demencia, swooning just to Black Hat’s right, giggled sadistically. She went to grab onto Black Hat’s arm, only for a tentacle to swat her away like a fly. 5.0.5. was deposited next to Flug shortly after. The weather- smoggy but nonetheless clear- turned smoggier.
“I saw everything.” Black Hat’s lip curled.
Flug gulped.
“You were given one task. You good-for-nothing lackeys were supposed to make a quick example of a fourth-rate hero. A nobody. And yet, I see no hero in sight, my ship wrecked- in my driveway, and my property vandalised by my own employees’ incompetence!” Black Hat spat green flame. The scientific part of Flug noted he’d never seen his boss do that before. “What do you have to say for yourselves?!”
Flug was shaking. “I… There was a- a griffin! And, it…”
“We killed it! And then that stupid twerp went straight into the ocean!” Demencia flexed.
“His file! The inform- information said he couldn’t swim, so we- we…”
There was something so utterly disgusted in Black Hat’s eye. Even the most eloquent speech or logical reason wouldn’t be able to satiate it. Flug shut his mouth.
“Perhaps, after all this time, your purposes have slipped your minds. Allow me to remind you. You lot are what villains are purchasing when they invest in my company. Your work,” he looked at Flug, “your capabilities,” he looked at Demencia, then 5.0.5., “your competence.” His eye settled back on Flug. “And today, a fourth-rate villain made fools of you. He looked at you- representatives of MY organization- and deduced a large bird would be enough to deal with you. And he was correct!”
Even Demencia was silent, arms crossed. 5.0.5. positioned himself behind Flug, who was still flat on his ass, eyes wide. Black Hat continued with a snarl.
“Do not think that because you live in the same building as me that I care about you. Do not think that since I’m entertaining your shortcomings that you’re not replaceable. Once you start causing me more of a headache than I will get training your replacement, Doctor, I will do so. Slip any more, and that one goes first. And by my own hand, lest you mess that up too.”
Flug followed Black Hat’s gaze, which was pointedly on 5.0.5., who was covering his eyes. Panic overthrew Flug’s thoughts.
“But- but you can’t-”
“I own you, and that bear. You, however, have to take responsibility for your subordinates! I’ve only been entertaining this useless thing since your productivity improved! You’re employed higher than both of them, even double that. I outrank you by thrice that amount. Remember. Your. Place. If I decide its presence is detrimental, it's going. Do I make myself clear?!”
“Yes-” his voice cracked, “yes sir.”
“If only I could say your word was good enough on its own.” Black Hat muttered, but not nearly quiet enough for Flug’s ears to be spared. His voice returned to its normal volume shortly after. “The ship will be repaired, the Hat-Bots will be reassembled, the roads, beach, and other infrastructure will be fixed. You will finally get to finishing “Lady Explosion”’s order, and it will work. Not partially, not passably- fully. Because that’s what I require of you, and that is what you require of yourself. Am I understood, Doctor?”
Keep working on it.
“Yes, sir.”
And how’s the other project going?
“Get to work, Doctor.”
“Yes sir.”
Black Hat was already gone.
“Someone’s in trouble~!” Demencia smirked.
Flug sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose through the bag- it still ached from earlier treatment.
He didn’t get up, not yet- not when his legs were jelly, even though he knew he should have. 5.0.5., who’d emerged from his paws, looked down on Flug, and patted his shoulder.
Demencia leaned over his shoulder, grinning. “Was Black Hat talking ‘bout that project he gave you last week? If you want, I can-“
“I know, Demencia. I don’t need your… your help.”
“Well, suit yourself, but Black Hat’s gonna-“
“I know.”
Demencia merely looked at Flug, before crossing your arms. “You’ve been a real buzzkill lately, Doc.”
Flug turned to her. He tried to look unamused in the intimidating way Black Hat so effortlessly pulled off, but it came off as tired instead; I know.
“Hmph.” Demencia looked elsewhere, and began tapping her foot.
Flug sighed, again, as feeling came back to his legs. “Demencia,”
“Yeah?”
“I need you to find any Hat-Bot piece or decently sized scrap and… make a pile- over there?”
She stared at him.
“I’ll let you keep a griffon feather.”
She thought for a moment, seeming skeptical.
“And you can eat the head tomorrow.”
“Okay!” Demencia was already moving.
“5.0.5., organize whatever she finds by size. I’ll be right back.”
5.0.5. gave a mock salute before heading towards the piece of sidewalk he gestured to earlier. He waved at Demencia, who was already approaching with a sizable collection.
Flug pushed himself to his feet. His ribs creaked with the movement, the front- and back- of his face feeling light and airy. The jellied muscles in his legs felt entirely different to the tense, electrified buzzing in his right hand.
Nonetheless, the scientist surveyed the outside of the ship. He noted where there was damage, why, and what parts he might need to repurpose, and what parts he needed one of the factories to make. In an ideal world, he’d have fourteen hours and have someone better at structural engineering than he. Yet, Flug had a suspicion that if he didn’t finish the street, ship, and cannon in such a time frame, he’d be subjected to hell.
He’d need his tools. Most were in his lab, but he kept some around Demencia’s pit-room. Most importantly was his tablet, which was likely wrecked during the crash, but he made sure to keep a spare in his room- he’d need it if he wanted to properly utilize the remaining Hat-Bots…
He buried his face in his hands, letting out a pained noise as he did so.
He hated this.
They need a new ship design. Airborne vehicles shouldn’t be hat-shaped, especially not top-hat-shaped. As someone who knew how jets worked, he could confidently say this was hell to build. The power behind the jets would have allowed them much greater travel. Today could have been entirely different if the evasive maneuvers were any bit-
And then Black Hat had threatened 5.0.5.. 5.0.5.! The goof he grew from a little genetically modified spec! Flug wanted to wonder why Black Hat was so cruel, but he already knew the answer, or the vague idea of it. He was the best villain around, after all. It was hard not to know about Black Hat. He was heartless, cold, and sadistic. He was horrible. He didn’t care, he didn’t, not a bit.
Flug knows this. Flug has always known this.
Have I made you uncomfortable?
His hands fell back to his sides. His vision was blurry, whether it be from tears or his head trauma, he had no clue. If only his boss was… was sweet.
Without you, the organization would be nothing.
His breathing was shallow and slow. He knew what the dream was. It couldn’t be anything more than a dream. It was his imagination, wishing and wanting. Black Hat would never, never…
Until we meet again, Doctor.
It wasn’t real, he reminded himself. It wasn’t real, in fact, it was almost entirely composed of lies.
A dream device, have you thought of a name?
It wasn’t real.
The Somnium Enhancer?
It wasn’t…
The disintegration cannon,
But maybe,
then the Somnium Enhancer- in that order.
it didn’t have to be real to be enough.
So, Flug turned around. Began to head in the direction of his tools, dully noting his two colleagues were already over halfway done. If Demencia was still compliant, maybe he could have the two work on the beach. But not now, not when there was still work to be done on his part.
So, Flug began to work.