Chapter Text
Neb lay sideways on the bottom bunk that Wilt slept under, hanging their head upside down off one side and their legs off the other.
"Hey, Wilt?"
"Yeah, Neb?"
"I was just thinking, I've never actually seen what's inside that locker you've got in here. Whenever you take anything out of it I feel like it's got... an impossible amount of giant Converse sneakers for how big it looks from the outside."
Wilt scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly trying to find a way to explain the situation. "Well, uh, er... it's kind of... it's really messy in there. I bet you could get lost in it. Literally."
Neb shot up into a sitting position, their interest piqued. "Wait, you mean it's like World's toy box? It's bigger on the inside? Get outta town! I gotta see this!" The pale green Friend zipped over to the aforementioned locker, fiddling with the push mechanism to open the door.
"Wait, Neb, it's not really a good idea to... sorry, I just don't think..." Wilt, immediately regretting his previous words, attempted to convince Neb out of their already steadfast plan.
"Aw, you always worry about me, tall molasses. Don't worry, I'll be fine!" The Friend opened the door to the locker and quizzically peered at a jumbled pile of striped socks, black Chuck Taylors, and hanging jerseys that obscured the back of the metal box. (Since when did Wilt actually wear clothes, anyway?) Looking back at Wilt in confusion, they spoke as they reached an arm in between the articles of clothing.
"Hold on, I thought you said it was..." Their sentence trailed off as they moved their hand around, their mouth agape. They were able to fit their entire arm into a space that looked to be a little less than a foot deep, and they couldn't feel the back of it yet.
"I'll be back in a jiff, Wilt. I want to see how deep this goes," Neb said as they jostled several cans of spray deodorant aside to slide their entire body into the locker.
The taller Friend opened his mouth to speak, but Neb had already completely disappeared into the metal box. He sighed.
Pushing past what seemed like endless rows of jerseys with barely enough room for them to move forward, Neb let their vision adjust to the rapidly growing darkness. Pulling one of the shirts close to their face to squint at the design on its front, they realized that every single one of them bore the mark of the big blue number one that Wilt already had permanently on his chest. Forging their way deeper, they felt their mind getting cluttered and heavy as the floor began to tilt oh so subtly downward. The extremely narrow hallway became completely blanketed by shadow. Neb put out a hand to the wall to steady themselves. After one more step, the Friend's foot met with nothing but air and they found themselves falling, falling, falling, unable to keep their eyes open as their thoughts finally collapsed in on themselves.