Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Howdy. If you’re reading this, then I am most assuredly dead.

Nah I’m just pulling your leg. I’m only  writing this so Phobos can’t wrangle me into fixing his printer issues again.

General information about the Nevada:

• It sucks to live here.
• There really are no animals. The “meat” used in hotdogs and burgers is produced through protein synthesis rather than animal husbandry.
• There was an ocean once. It…might still exist. Scratch that— it must still exist. Phobos just commissioned a desalination plant out in the western outskirts where the saltwater has been intruding in the aquifer…
• Nevada began fraying long before Project Nexus. Dissonant energy appeared at the ends of the world and spread, engulfing the world in insanity. Now the whole lot of us are stuck here, with a ring of madness tightening like a hangman’s noose.
• Hoffy calls Nevada “Sector-2” in his notes. Strange bird, that man.

It’s getting late. I’m heading home.

The Sheriff—

Chapter Text

Admittedly, this wasn’t one of my better ideas.

The grunt across from me twirled a knife in his hand as he looked at me, making a real show of it without trying. The way that spinning blade danced in his hand proved him to be an expert. It also proved him to be an asshole by making me painfully aware that my own hands were bagged and locked up the top drawers of two heavy file cabinets, one to either side of me and set just at the maximum length of my tethers(1). You could hear the bags rustling as my fingers involuntarily twitched. As interrogation setups go I would definitely give this a 10/10 rating. 5-stars, would not wish upon my worst enemy.

The two grunts responsible for this downright diabolical arrangement had positioned themselves by the door. Sanford and Deimos. I recognized them, but only just—Sanford looked like he lost a fight with a squid and Deimos had taken the term ‘stone-faced’ to a new level. Mr. Knifey was a new face, figuratively speaking.

“So,” he said, voice muffled slightly by the strange mask he wore. He quickly flicked his hand and sent the the knife flying my directions, where it buried itself into the wood wall an inch from my head. I didn’t even flinch. Honest.

“You can stop screaming. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Ok. I might have flinched a little bit.

“So,” Knifey repeated after I regained my composure. “How did you find this place?”

Without hesitation I replied, “The power of friendship.”

Sanford stopped sharpening the point of his hook. Deimos let of snort of laughter.

“…The what.” Knifey finally said.

“You heard me.“ I said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Said Sanford.

I turned my head to Sanford and Deimos.

“You boys remember fighting a pair of G03LMs named Church and Jorge?”

The reaction was instant. Sanford’s composed scowl dissolved into a pained expression while Deimos facepalmed(2) in agitation. Yep, that was the usual response to the Gunner Duo. I had a hard time suppressing my grin.

“Who?” Knifey asked, but his teammates were too busy “reminiscing”

“Yeah, like 4 times!” Deimos said angrily.

“Thought so. See Church and Jorge have a knack for findin’ folks that work as a team and feel genuine camaraderie for each other. Folks like you two,” I explained, “It’s uncanny, don’t make a lick of sense, and the only thing they’ve ever used if for is pickin’ fights, but it works every time. They want a rematch.”

“You’re bluffing,” Deimos said.

“No seriously, who are you talking about?” Yep. Knifey’s interrogation had been thoroughly derailed. Now was my chance.

“If I’m bluffing, then how’d they find you the last three times?” I laughed. “Anyway this is all beside the point. They want a fight, but that ain’t why I’m here.” I looked at Knifey.

A coward will say anything under duress. They will tell you the sky is blue. They will tell you it’s red. They will tell you it’s “whatever color you want just please don’t kill me!”(3)

I am a coward. If I wanted this encounter to end in my favor, I had to sound convincing.

Knifey’s face was unreadable behind the mask “Then by all means, enlighten me,” he said. I made probable eye contact before speaking.

I am a coward, which was why I knocked on the most dangerous men in Nevada’s front door.

“I want to kill the Auditor.”

(1) On the off chance that the people reading this aren’t Nevadeans, ‘tethers’ are the invisible forces that connect our hands to our body. Their normal length is 2/3 of a grunt’s height, but they can be stretched roughly half again as much. Move a hair’s breadth past that limit an you’re in the most excruciating pain imaginable.

…am I really trying to talk to aliens now? Have I reached that point? I’m acting crazier  than the damn clown.

Oh, what the hell does it matter anyway? It makes about as much sense as anything else does.

(2) “Ow,” I heard him hiss under his breath.

(3) Which is a very specific shade of piss yellow.