Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sound of static and a soft hum like an old CRT television invaded the air. Overwhelming amounts of trash bags and boxes surrounded the area; your windpipe constricted as you tried to confirm your situation. You hadn’t eaten dinner, and the smell from the garbage heap replaced your hunger with nausea--laying directly on contained bags of waste was not helping. 

Provided that you weren’t actually dead, you pushed yourself off the bags.

--

Just a while ago, you were closing Hometown’s library. Wiping table surfaces, sweeping up the library, and shutting down the lab computers were part of the customary closing ritual that you and your coworker Berdly established after you first started your job.

One night, he asked if you would be fine by yourself so he could prepare for his group project the next day, and there was no issue, of course. Cleaning alone while listening to the radio was more therapeutic than hearing the feathered teen brag about his brilliance. You remember how he mistook your excessive enthusiasm for disappointment and attempted to comfort you. Beneath the cocky exterior, he was a nice kid.

     *I am truly sorry that I can’t assist you tonight, my lone coworker.

     *But fear not, Y/N! Your bird in glow-in-the-dark armor will provide you with the power to survive this despondent, treacherous night! 

     *Here--from one working-class citizen to another--a prized can of Gamer Fuel!

     *(You got Gamer Fuel.)

The radio’s static-filled songs contrasted to the usual monotony of the air conditioner and stifled giggles of teens throughout the day. Moving to a small town with low apartment costs and fair-paying jobs kept you in a more secure living situation than your life beforehand.

Although your new job was pleasant, the unchanging pattern of registering books and reordering shelves waned your motivation. It had only been a week, but you considered working extra jobs as a shop assistant or a school tutor for a semblance of dynamism. You sprayed and wiped the last part of your counter, understanding that the additional work would give more purpose than sitting at the same counter for the rest of your life.

Not wanting to get home too late, you focused on your surroundings to find more tasks to complete. 

Under your work surface was the “gamer fuel,” a green drink to “power your long night ahead,” and while you appreciated the gift, it was barely worth the heart palpitations. The small can of acid fit in your khaki pants thankfully; otherwise, you would have to sacrifice the liquid to a nearby maple tree.

On top of the counter, there was an Ice E drawing along with a few papers left by an anonymous yellow lizard to hang on the Teen’z Own board. Parsing the sheets, you saw that she left an anime review for Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2, the writings giving you mild interest. The enigmatic lizard, you recalled, lurked into the library that day wearing Mew Mew pajamas and a pair of sunglasses.

There was a moment where you panicked from thinking she was a hitman-in-disguise, what with her strange outfit and briefcase, but it turned out she just came to drop off her work.

After she slunk back out, Berdly commented that she reminded him of someone he knew, but he couldn’t quite place a finger on who. Knowing him, it’s probably someone from a video game, but that didn’t matter anyway. The review was well enough that you hoped it would liven up the place. 

“Maybe some lucky soul would enjoy reading it, too,” you murmured with a slight grin.

With the final staples on the eye-catching article and the Ice E drawing, you continued your quest of closing up the Librarby.

Ignoring the droop in your eyelids, your body lumbered towards the lab to sweep away the shed fur of a white dog who finished a new chapter of his game recently--he definitely deserves loads of rest for his hard work. You were placing down your stapler on the Teen’z Table when you noticed something strange: the lab door was partially open despite Berdly closing it before he left. 

Suddenly, a loud warble and crackling bang interrupted your thoughts. Accompanying it, a black fog informed you that someone else, or something else, was here with you. The cloud ended at the doorway, and in the library’s light, it seemed like there was an invisible wall denying it entrance into the room you were in.

It didn’t smell of smoke; in fact, there was no smell at all. If you didn’t remember that the lab’s lights were on earlier, you would’ve thought that everything was shut off. The cloud was disturbingly opaque.

In the time that you stood there trying to understand what was happening, a flash of green emerged from the fluid shadows and rushed past, knocking you over the table. They sped off while you pushed yourself up and ran after them. "Come back…!” 

“...here...?" But nobody was there. After scanning the sugar maple trees and dead buildings for any movement, you couldn’t find the perpetrator. Running around the street for a trespasser was not how you wanted to spend the rest of your night, so you walked back in to clean up the mess.

As you returned to the library, however, a new scene sat ahead of you.  There was an emptiness where computers and desks used to exist, and the doors of the lab cast long shadows with a non-existent light source behind them, its threatening void very enticing. An otherworldly wind blew through the doorway, turning the air into an intense cold. Nothing remained of the lab.

What happened? 

What did that person do? 

Why is it... so... dark...?

Desperate for answers, your thoughts crashed into each other before you could process what you were doing. With each unanswered question, you inched ever closer to the opening. Seafoam green walls turned to grey, and a frigid bitterness overtook your legs, causing you to carelessly shuffle a step into the doorway.

“Wait-”

Your nerves recoiled too late.

You grasped at the air for any object to keep you from becoming gravity’s new victim. Lost balance dictated the consequences of your unchecked curiosity and dragged you to the depths of your world.

The soft greys intensified with each passing second, turning darker, yet darker into saturated shades of blue. The increasing velocity knocked the air out of your lungs, but even through the pain, no screams could escape your throat.

Accompanying the pull of force, harsh temperatures cut at your exposed skin. You fell through several atmospheres in the span of a few seconds, causing the stinging air to ease into a warm envelopment around you. Immediately following the increasing heat though, your body flung into non-solid ground, eyes slamming shut on impact. Darkness and silence temporarily replaced your thoughts.

--

For the last hour, he’s been trying to revive the dying light bulb.

It flickered back to life occasionally when he wiggled it, but its glow would only last for a minute or so, much to his annoyance. Why is it that when he needs things the most, they abandon him? Aside from that but if someone were to stop by, how would they know that the shop was open?

Imagine the loss of a possible customer, the first one since his prime years! Maybe he could strike a deal with the bulb? He grabbed the black rotary phone from its stool and placed it on the cardboard box he called a shop counter where it wouldn’t be crushed in the event that he, or the bulb, fell. Following that, he climbed the stool and steadied the swinging, wired light source to meet his face.

“[Free Trial Has Ended], YOU SAY? WHAT ABOUT F0R THE PRIC3 OF [My Unconditional And Endless Devotion]? I COULD EVEN THROW IN A [Limited Supply] OF NOT [Resorting To Violence] IF YOU WOULD. JUST. WORK.”

His offer was met with darkness. Gritting his teeth whilst making empty promises was not the way to fix this; he needed to pull out the big guns. With a deep inhale and clenched jaw, he hissed out a salesman’s sacred word:

“...PLEASE.”

With a single, defeated tug at the bulb, it lit up again with full brightness.

“...   WHAT    . SER> IOUSLY!!!  ?! THAT’S ALL IT    TOOK??? I POURED OUT MY [Ribcage], OFFERED YOU MY [Hyperlink Blocked], AND ALL YOU W4NTED WAS FOr ME TO [[Beg for yuor compliance]  !!! (/S) ?!! YOU ONLY SEE M3 AS A [[Desperate]] PIECE OF [Pick 5 meats for 20$], DOn^T YOU.”

In response to his insults, the light bulb shut off abruptly, no forewarning flickers or anything. The dead bulb reflected an image of a black-and-white ventriloquist dummy standing on a rickety stool with his segmented fingers clinging hopelessly to the clear, round item.

The puppet, in all of his broken, disheveled glory, held a desperation that could only be seen in his movements and mannerisms, for the yellow-and-pink glasses over his eyes hid most of his sentiment. Behind him, there were paint cans and open cardboard boxes alongside a hastily-painted brick wall of sky and sun. He continued to present the successful salesman facade all the while frenzied by the death of a light bulb he’s owned since his decline.

“A [AAA Batteries]!!!!!!!  I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING [Specil]!!! YOU WERE MY LAST [Confidante] FROM [My Favorite Year]!!! MY [[Partner-in-crime]][(C)1997]! 

WHY. 

[Y]!!! 

[‘Why, Oh, Why’] WON’T YOU WORK WITH ME!!! YOU ARE JUST LIKE [the Rest of Them], YOU LITTLE [$IX$]. I NEED. THE [[Light.]]” He croaked out the last line before his glasses glazed over with static, the better version of himself revealing through the corrupted data.

“Please... it’s so dark...”

His chaotic pleadings were cut short when the sound of a crash broke the external world’s ambiance. The noise was unlike anything he’s heard before, almost like it was a disturbing mixture of an explosion and a car wreck.

That doesn’t sound right; no cars have been around here since the roller coaster was constructed. He shook off his pathetic scene. Then, he pushed up his glasses, patted down the wrinkles in his jacket, and slicked back his greasy, dandruff-ridden mullet. If he’s going to perish to some unknown entity, he’d best do it with the little dignity he has left. Jumping off the stool, the call of curiosity and poor impulses led him to his shop door.

With a small push, he opened his storefront.

Outside, there was no creature waiting to pounce or any bomb in the shape of a dog. The only thing there was the standard broken entrance to this part of the dump; nothing appeared to be out of place.

Or so he thought. Past the destroyed opening, there was a limp body laid atop a throne of trash bags. He recognized the body to be of Light World origin because of a singular floating item on top of them, recalling the same appearance of heart-shaped objects that scorned his ads and sales pitches so many times before. A Lightner’s SOUL.

This one gravitating over the stranger’s remains was on the brink of shattering. He could easily snatch it, for it was so weak that the common color vibrancy was dulled to a shade of grey with cracks engulfing it. Such an act would be too cruel though--even a wretched guy like him had a capacity for kindness.

He scampered to see the almost-corpse up close, tripping over his stubby legs most of the way. Why he rushed to their side was quickly revealed as he pulled out a Pipis, an object that was either an egg, a clam, or a can of soda, and cracked it open. Erupting from the contents was a miniature angel sprite of the puppet himself.

     */// cast PipisHeal.

The winged version of himself fluttered around his hair, tousling the once-smooth texture into a tangled mess fit for his person. “YOU [[8-bit]][Gnat]!!! I NEED yOU- NEED YUO- N EED YOU T0 PROVIDE [Direct Primary Care] TO THIS [Half-pr1ce][[Sponge!]]!!!    NOW [[Hit the road]]!!!”

He smacked it towards the unfortunate victim where it immediately started healing the dying SOUL.

“IF THIS NEW PLAN GOES THE WAY I [[Hopes and Dreams]], THEN I’LL BE SO  

I’LL BE SO

I’LL BE S0  !!1!1!”

His dialogue went nowhere. He vibrated in anticipation with his jaw working in tandem, the fragmented parts of his face becoming even more twisted with glitches and other inconceivable horrors.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t be so blatant; there could be a construction worker around the region. With this in mind, the dummy salesman only lightly clicked his teeth together, and during his wait, he glanced over the Lightner. 

“THEY [Got Some Nice Digs] FOR SOMEONE WHO WAS [[Evicted From Heaven]] AND PLUNGED INTO [A H3aping Pile Of] GARBAGE.”

His unconscious customer wore clothing of expensive taste, the fit reminding him of a certain cafe associate who was one of the killers of his high-class life. Despite the differences in colors and armor placement, his nostalgic bitterness overtook his initial scheme.

“ACTUALLY. DOn’T FULLY [[Repair the Broken ITEM]] JUST YET;  WE HAVEN ‘ T GOTTEN TH3M TO AGREE TO A [Payment Plan]!!! I WILL NOT PROVIDE [Free Cable Services] [[Willy Nilly]] JUST BECAUSE OF MY [[Bleeding Heart]]!!!”

”LOOK,” he pointed to a large green battery with the name “Gamer Fuel” in their pocket, “THIS COULD [Press F1 For] HELP WITH THE [[LIGHT]]. BRING  IT.”

A professional’s gotta look presentable, he justified to himself, and this could be a good replacement energy source for his light bulb. Amid his payment, his client rustled from their near-eternal slumber, urging him to conclude his sprite’s work and leave before he got caught. 

“HURRY, [LITTEL] SPAMLET. THE LI GhtNER WILL [Wake Up And Smell The Roses] AT ANY MOMENT, “ he snapped under his breath, swiftly calling off the digital sprite and scurrying back to his shop before his client caught whiff of the e_mail guy’s scam and offkey smell.

--

     *(You followed mourning shadows to the end of the road. The neon lights that once left a glittering trail to the shop were now dead.)

     *(You told the dark that he healed you when he could have taken your SOUL easily. There was an uncomfortable silence.)

     *(A yellow shape in the multicolored darkness spoke first.)

     *You know, Y/N...

     *He was... Like the rest of us.

     *Just... a little unlucky.

     *For some reason, his products never seemed to hit...

     *... and the Lightners never even looked his way.

     *... Poor guy.

Little by little, your consciousness returned to you. Your emerging thoughts were muddled with a voice unlike your own; their sorrow squeezed the back of your throat and pierced your eyes. Almost in an instant, your mind immediately erased the misdirected anguish and replaced it with another issue.

You remembered that you hadn't eaten yet, and your stomach twisted itself in panic. Because of the combined pain in your body and the obnoxious lights, your brain and heart hammered together, similar to button smashing game controls. Those were good indicators that you were alive.

Swaying, your body lifted itself from the pile. 

You swiped away the trash littered on you and painfully climbed down the throne of trash bags. As you scaled the slope, the surrounding objects caught your eye. Finally setting your feet on the ground, you focused on particular details.

There were neon signs that pointed away from the city. In the shadows, you saw that the trail led to a dead-end with an entrance at the side of the wooden structure beside you. Not wanting to waste your second chance at living, you limped away from the ominous area although it felt like you were missing something. 

Continuing, there was a little red nub poking out from the ground.  As you approached it, the bump frantically spun around, and this caused you to let out a yelp, frightening it more.

"Sorry! Nubert isn't used to Lightners sneaking up on Nubert." He-- you wondered if the creature went by he-- cautiously extended his tiny head towards you. "But, sayyy… Nubert has advice for you.” Although he was the height of your ankle and you could easily punt him, you leaned in with mutual suspicion.

"Nubert thinks you should watch out in this city. Too many Darkners would want to harm a Lightner like you!"

You gave him an unamused glare before realizing that he wasn't trying to make a threatening introduction. Darkners? Lightners? Your face shriveled in on itself.  Never mind the confusing terminology, if there were people who wanted to hurt you, you were done for. You were still injured from the fall, and you didn’t have any armor on- 

Wait. Hold on.

You glanced down, but before you properly examined your clothing, Nubert interrupted with a bouncy reply, "Nubert's sorry that Nubert couldn't help more than that! OH! What if Nubert gave you his treasure? Nubert has no idea what’s in it, but Nubert thinks it might be helpful!" He plunked into the ground, leaving a little indent of concrete and dirt in his place.

A few seconds later, he sprouted up again and declared in a muffled voice, "Nubert’s box is now yours! Maybe you need it more than me."

On his squished face laid a red, Nubert-sized chest with a golden hinge. "You would give this to a stranger? That's... kind of you, Nubert.” The rate at which you and Nubert came to trust each other nearly gave you whiplash, but in a frantic situation like yours, it would be best to hold any criticisms on your part.

With this in mind, you opened your arms and placed your hands under the bottom, making sure to lift with your legs and not your injured back.

Then, while you opened the box’s lid, the small being comically explained how he came across a site where some fancy Darkners were building a weird contraption, and he saw one of the workers place down the chest. 

“Yeah, Nubert saw them test a forcefield, too! If Nubert had remained any sooner, Nubert could’ve been stuck with the box for a WHILE!”

Confusion ran through your mind. There was only a red scarf in the contents of the case, and someone thought to hide it behind a forcefield? What was so special…or dangerous about this item? Flipping the clothing around, there were bits of static and energy pulsing through the fibers.

“Nubert… It is safe for me to wear this, right?” It seems… strange to say the least. You tossed it in your palms some more. Dying by a magical scarf was not how you wanted to go, especially after surviving a thousand-foot fall.

“UHHH. To be honest, Nubert has no idea! Though, you could put it on Nubert to check; it’s a sacrifice Nubert is willing to make for his new friend!!!” 

You were stubborn in rejecting the irrational idea. Provided that you had just met and he was your only ally at the moment, harming the little guy was not part of your still-growing survival plan. 

--

What was once an action built from genuine regard for him soon evolved into an effort to not strangle the creature yourself. 

Nubert nudged your leg and repeated “come on” at least a hundred times until you placed the fabric around his neck/body after a minute of the torture.

It was almost frightening how your hands wrapped it with no hesitation. Following your not-so-subtle agitation, Nubert silently bounced while you two waited. And waited. And waited-

“Yeah, it’s safe, Nubert.”

“Yeah, it’s safe, Lightner!”

Simultaneously, he threw the scarf at you with a swift movement, and you caught it around your own neck.

He vibrated in relief as you tugged at the uncomfortable microfiber cloth; a twinge of regret flashed through your mind due to the scarf’s electrical charges. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to do about it now unless you wanted your and Nubert’s trouble to be all for naught.

He chortled out, “Well, Lightner, hope you take care! Nubert’s going to discard this box and check on the forcefield’s progress!!!” You nodded and carried the chest over to Nubert, where he took the container and plopped into the ground for the last time. What a great guy, if a bit trying.

     *FiberScarf was added to your WEAPONS.

Now that you mostly understood the gravity of your situation and the technicalities of existing in this world, you covered yourself with the harsh fabric and walked about the road, trying to figure out your next step in staying alive.

Although that was your plan at first, you noticed a doorframe near you. The opening didn’t have any contents in it, reminding you of the lab’s entrance but with a thinner outline instead.

Furthermore, the wooden structure didn't peek from behind either; this revelation disturbed you as much as the lab doors did.  Curious to see if the doorway’s behavior was the same, you nearly stuck your hand in the lone frame until a sound woke you from your thoughts.

Clink, clank, CRASH!

At the dead-end far from you, you heard the sound of glass shatter and distorted laughter followed by yells, the vocals reminding you of a stereotypical car salesman. 

“[$IX$] [#&%!] GODDAMN IT-!”

--

That was the opposite of what he wanted! His idea to use the Lightner’s battery for his purposes backfired on an irreparable level. A few long wires sizzled beside one end of the battery with another charred few hanging off the lightbulb.

Provided that the light bulb swayed from the electric line like usual, the distinction this time was that it wouldn’t light up ever again. Now nothing but a shattered remnant, the clear orb’s pieces mocked him with barely-lit mirrors of him in every shatter. He gathered each part in his palms, not paying any mind to the already-abundant scrapes on his ceramic fingertips.

Then, kneeling with the bundle of bits in his hand, he started deciding his next move. Light bulbs in the Dark World weren’t too expensive thankfully, but adding the cost of duct tape and wires stretched his already-low funds... 

“[Loud Sigh] MAYBE… No. MY [[Operation Running on Shoestrings]] WILL HAVE TO [New Relocation Site] FOR NOW. AT LEAST UNTIL-”

Knock, knock, knock. A shaky voice reached through, “Hello...? Is someone there?? I heard something break; are you okay in there???”

More knocks. “Anyone?”

For a second, the creature of blended material stiffened. Sweat dripped down his ceramic, sharp nose, his polyester torso lurched, and his once-white, synthetic-cotton pants remained bent around the shop floor’s grime.

Unlike his uncorrupt counterparts, his domain didn’t have a beautifully arranged stock of products or any coherent neon ads or even a shopkeeper with a non-creepy smile and teacup pose. This was all that endured.

Nevertheless, he picked himself up from the revolting ground, dropping the shattered pieces in his movement. The delirious man muttered to the dark, “HOhO, BUDDY. IT’$,, THE LIghT/NER. THEY GOT HERE [Quicker and Easier] THAN I HAD IN [[Mind Palace]].”

He brushed off the glass and waltzed to the door, but before he could unlock the knob, a major problem remained unsolved. How would the Lightner see in this level of darkness?

He was used to the dimness in his sight: the Knight made sure of that. But that didn’t help with his client. In his and his shop’s state, they would just flee, leaving him with no sales and a still-busted light. 

As if he came up with the best idea in the Dark World, the salesman scrambled to a nearby scrap of newspaper. 

On it, there was an article talking about a small business owner becoming a Big Shot overnight. The terms “Big Shot” were capitalized over a black-and-white photo of an Addison Darkner with a meek smile lovingly encapsulating their radiant eyes.

The Darkner was standing in front of seven more compatriots, a group of Addisons in varying shades of the newspaper’s ink linked together by various hugs and still laughter. The business owner, with a completely-white mullet and a tall, non-segmented body, was shaking hands with Cyber World’s queen in front of her castle.

They look happy.

Regardless, the wistfulness was short-lived because, in the next moment, the stubby puppet splattered white paint over the entire piece. Then, he proceeded to bend reality, warping his head to a size ten times larger and blowing a powerful breath on the torn paper. Splotches of white flew to the ground, but the newspaper was dried otherwise--the printed words of his past were no more. He broke open a blue paint can and hastily wrote with his fingertips.

--

You knocked several times on the grey door to no avail.

The part of you with survival instincts screamed to turn back, to continue walking to the lit buildings of this world, and to forget this dead-end existed.

Neon signs with scribbles on them were probably deterrents to normal folks, but you proceeded to walk to this dump. In your peripheral, there were destroyed cars and even more trash than the pile you fell on. Your curiosity and impulsivity will be the death of you. 

You shuffled your feet in wait. Laying on a pile of boxes was Nubert’s treasure chest--he did throw away the box. On one of the black cars, you saw a dealer license plate with the name “BIG SHOT AUTOS” plastered in bold font.

Soon, strange noises came through the door while you looked around. At first, you heard a whisper, then the scrape of metal and paper. If that weren’t enough, you were nearly deafened by the sound of a leaf blower, and when you were close to knocking the door down, it opened and shut immediately, a small white hand leaving a sign on the front:

     *HELLO! WE ARE TEMPORARILY MOVING!! TO A NEW OFFICE!!!

     *PLEASE NOTE OUR NEW LOCATION:

At the end of the carelessly scrawled note was a set of directions to their office.

     *ACROSS THE 10-LANED HIGHWAY AND NEAR THE BEGINNING OF THE CYBER CITY BRIDGE

     *COME

     *ALONE

“Oh, uh, thank you! I-I’m glad to see that you’re doing fine!!! Maybe I’ll stop by there…? Uhh- anywaytakecare!!!” You hobbled away from the menacing trash area, taking a mental note of the grey door’s sign and the void-filled doorway for later. Why are there doors in a disposal area anyway??? You wondered out loud as you rushed past the ominous door again.

--

Several life-fearing strides later, you reached the first fork in the opening to the bright and loud city. 

The route in front of you pointed to a sign that said: WELCOME TO THE CITY. A path to your left headed to balloons, boxes, and stands of amusement park equipment. You chose the latter, seeing as Nubert warned you about coming across other Darkners, and going straight into a crowded city may not be the brightest idea. Hopefully, this route would be better.

The amusement park road contained a few pink cones, and as you walked by them, the cones yipped and scampered to block the original area... Seeing pink dogs in the shapes of traffic cones was not the weirdest phenomenon of the day. Regardless, there was no way back.

Chapter Text

You looked at the hundreds of cat displays and neon advertisements ahead and walked by dozens of balloons, your head churning for ideas of what to do next.

The best plan would be to avoid people in this world, but that’s easier said than done. You needed to find help.

--

In the distance, buildings separated further from each other, and the increased space brought in more amusement park equipment and even more fair participants. 

The midnight blue brick walls held glowing doors to places unknown, as exhibited by various citizens walking to and fro through the frames. Alternating crunches of blue asphalt and gravel under your heels provided a sense of comfort, it being the only constant factor between this world and your own. Intoxicated by the smell of computerized hotdogs, lemonade, and burgers, you dizzily gazed at the advertisements plastered around the concession stands.

You had to find a safe way to leave the crowded area, but how would you sneak past this many people? At least a hundred or so fair-goers were there, not counting those operating the rides and stands.

People were starting to head your way, so you ducked into the shadows between two buildings. In the process of hiding, you heard quiet clinks and rattles below your waist. “Huh? What do I have on?”

Surprisingly, you weren’t wearing your library uniform anymore. There was a blue, long-sleeved shirt instead of your green one and a gold-shouldered red vest over it. Your khaki pants were turned into thicker, darker material with lightweight chainmail over your hips, and golden-toed dress shoes replaced your worn tennis shoes.

Everything is as uncomfortable as my old clothes; I guess that’s why I wasn’t aware of the difference. 

You ran your fingers over the chainmail, then took off your scarf to trace the intricate patterns on your shoulder armor, the swirling imprints forming wings on each pad.

This whole outfit probably costs more than ten times my salary. There were also minor tears on your fabrics though that couldn’t be helped. You sighed as you spread your hands over the ruined areas. At least you’re well-protected.

“Anyway--” you moved a hand to your chin and leaned your other arm against one of the brick walls-- “Everyone around here has relatively normal clothes. I think I’m the only one with flashy clothing.” A few pink-flushed creatures hovered by wearing vibrant blue apparel, and many syringe-headed beasts chased the former in aggressive medical uniforms. 

Nevermind.

In contrast to the obnoxious medics and floating creatures, the stand keepers wore black, long-sleeved shirts and green pants. Along with the simple attire, these polygonal, colorful people carried beaming smiles and infectious laughter, making you slightly relaxed even with your problems. Moreover, they didn’t seem hostile in any capacity; their lively conversations fluttered in the electrified air with an amusing mixture of idle gossip and business negotiations.

In the hope that one of them could provide assistance, you walked out of the hidden spot and into the open area. 

--

The pink Addison spun more sugar into beautiful, fluffy clouds to take to his friends after work. He gathered an extra stick to dip into the stainless steel spinner but then reconsidered at the last second. It’s understandable: it’s near the end of his workday, and he hasn’t had any customers in the past ten minutes.

Disappointed, he mumbled to himself, “There’s no point in making a new cone. Nobody’s interested right now.” He was at the top of his game in the good old days. Every moment, every single second, it seemed that he and his friends would always sell a product, the successful pitches and sales gimmicks pleasingly echoing in his mind. A smirk briefly appeared at the reminders of the constant marketing success and his old camaraderie.
 

However, buried in the pile of recollections, not all of his colleagues were so fortunate. Such reminiscing always brought back memories of… him. 

The former oh-so-big shot of Cyber City, the one companion he never expected to change drastically in the face of luxury. That era of success and wealth was the greatest period of anybody’s life, but at the same time, it carried the most painful realities that the Addison and his friends would ever know. Be that as it may, he can’t deny that his old friend was a devoted and sincere person--when he wasn’t gloating about his new business ventures or future fame anyhow.

     *You just watch!

     *Someday,

     *I’m gonna be a big shot!

     *(He jumped off the table, pointing at the ceiling upon landing. Everyone drunkenly giggled in response.)

     *I’m shooting for the heavens, and you all know it!

     *Those Lightners just haven’t seen my potential yet!!! 

There’s no point in remembering a lost cause, he assured himself, and besides, that bourgeois asshole’s gone downhill; Queen even replaced that has-been with her own ads years ago, as unappealing as they are.

Ugh. He closed his eyes and sighed at the growing discontent in his chest. It’s not a good habit to work with terrible thoughts.

…!

Stopped by a familiar warmth, his thoughts hit the back burner. The pink worker felt a tug of force in his person, albeit a weak one; he recognized that strength and determination shared amongst a population of his favorite type of customers. 

Although he prepared to leave for his break, he re-tied his ponytail to its original sleekness and fixed his leftover hair fringes to the side of his face. Then, he instinctively poised himself in a teapot pose, one hand on his hip and the other in a lifted manner, his tired expression reverting to its initial animated state: a charming Addison smile.

Soon, he found the owner of such power, a disheveled Lightner. 

--

You glanced at everything around you as you limped forward. Straight ahead, there was a three-lane highway bustling with traffic so you couldn’t go far, but you were determined to get aid and info from somebody.

I should’ve asked Nubert for directions or something...

The blinking lights of the stands around you did nothing to help the pounding in your head. Finally, nearing the end of the path, you noticed unattended stands, and between two of those stands was a single, non-busy worker, their pink, angular body maintaining what you felt was an awkward pose. Although their face said otherwise, you hoped the time of holding that position wasn’t exhausting.

When you turned to their station, the stand keeper swiveled their body in your direction and puffed their chest. You reasoned that they saw you approaching their area and, being the only operator at the end of the path, readied themself for interaction. 

Impaired by the lack of food and sleep though, you swayed with each footfall and shortly bumped into someone walking in the opposite direction.

     *ZZT!

Mechanical sizzles erupted behind you, and as you turned to apologize, you met a lanky creature with neon blue fur, grey clothing, and a sharp drill- Wait. Is that… their face? There was a spill stain on their chest and below their feet, a crushed energy drink, the shimmer of wrinkled aluminum informing you that you made a grave mistake. 

     *ZZT!

     *ZZT!!!

     *(You rapidly spit out apology after apology, explaining your exhaustion and hunger in as few words as possible. You step backward as they gradually near you.)

     *ZZT!

     *(You hold up your hands in an attempt to coax them from further aggression.)

     *(It doesn’t work. The creature stomps forward; their claws angle together to create a mini spear.)

     *(An orb of light grows from the tip of their spear-like hands, the charge threateningly close to your face.)

“Whoa there, dear patrons!!! Please refrain from destroying the area [And Each Other]!!!”

Directly behind you, the anxious booming voice of the worker struck through the air. Their shout mixed with the sounds of the world, with the echoes of traffic, laughter, and welcoming city music, and replaced the extreme tension with awkward apprehension. As it settled, you felt a familiarity to their vocals, the sound holding a similar bubbly twinge like that of the voice in the dump. The perpetrator fizzed a few tones of irritation at the worker but eventually backed down from attacking you and walked away, their drill-masked face peering back at you as they headed into a blue doorway.

After overcoming your shock, you turned to acknowledge your savior. “Thank you, I-”

“Don’t say another word, Lightner! There’s no need for such trivialities--” the stand keeper chirped with a nonchalant hand wave-- “I’m always honoured to be of assistance!!!” They knelt and picked up the crumpled can, swiftly tossing it into a nearby recycling bin.

“And besides, you don’t appear to be in the best of shape. What kind of person wouldn’t help someone in need?” When the worker finally faced you, you saw a white name tag on the left side of their shirt.

     *Hello! My name is

     *PINK.

     *My pronouns are

     *HE/HIM.

You stared at the paper and murmured the printed words, which caused Pink to peer down at his tag. A slight magenta flush made its way across his angular face, and he peeled the sticker off with a soft, uncomfortable chuckle.

“Ah, I… forgot I still had that on. Well! That doesn’t matter now! There’s… no need to introduce myself, I suppose!!!” Pink crumpled the tag and tucked it in his pocket. Although you were confused at his sudden discomfort, it would probably be too rude to ask him about it, seeing as you were strangers.

“So!!! I’m aware that you need food and bedding, right?”

You nodded, looking away from his pitying gaze. “Honestly, I forgot that you were there in the heat of the moment. Sorry you had to see the dramatics.”

“Nonsense!!! If anything, I’m glad I have a way to help you now!!!” He moved behind his station and picked up a high-tech, translucent device. It’s just a smartphone, you realized. Pink dialed a number, then pulled out a smooth-surface, wooden stool from under the stand’s counter, motioning for you to rest. You noticed cotton candy equipment when he moved aside: a sugar spinner, some thin cones, and a few plastic-packaged bags with names on them. Nat… Loyal… Seo... I wonder who those are for.

He talked to you while the dial tones rang. “My friends and I hang out at this one bar-and-grill after work, and I gotta tell ya, Lightner: the food’s amazing!!!” Ring, ring. No answer yet. “Would you like to tag along with us? My treat, of course!”

“I- I… am hungry, so I appreciate your offer. Yes, if your friends are okay with it, I want to go with you.” You sat beside him and fiddled with your hands while you waited. Maybe it was hasty to travel with a stranger, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

--

“MY [[Name]]??? WHY, I’M SPA- [ACK]!!!” A line of Maice rolled by, frightening the puppet and causing him to drop his small stock of products and Pipis.

“HEy, HEY- WATCH THE [[So Cheap, You’ll Die]] MERCH4NDISE, YOU [ByteSized] RODENTS!!! I’M IN A [[Hurry, hurry, t1me is running 0ut!]]” He started to gather the items back into his arms but not before apologetically petting the Pipis. In the bundle of useless things lay a few worn bowties, a couple of filled bottles with his face on the covers, and some thorn-adorned rings. Those rings, he knew, would help his plan exponentially, provided that the Knight’s idea wasn’t a load of-

“[$IX$]!1! WHERE ARE MY [Commemorative Ring](s)??!”

His careless fingers screeched and scratched against the harsh asphalt; the gravel and dirt increased the stains on his pants. Soon, he felt painful pricks on both palms, indicating he found the scattered, dangerous jewelry. The salesman cautiously placed them with the other products on the ground, this time checking that nothing was missing.

“HAHAHAEHAEHAHAHAEHAE!!! THAT WAS 

[[Close]].”

Before the Maice startled him, he was practicing his future introduction with the Lightner. He knew that they would go to his new site; they may have muttered it, but he’s definitely sure that they said they would “stop by there”!

Right?

Rarely would the reality of his situation show itself so plainly to him. Once the guy who had the Cyber World in his palm, now the forgotten reject living in Cyber City’s outskirts, eager for a single interaction that didn’t end in him being beaten or cursed at. Try as he might to deny it, this constant facade of confidence drained him. When he’s done with the Lightner, he thought, he’ll be at the top again, and his pride won’t be feigned anymore.

He fiercely smacked his head, remasked his ego, and gathered his things. “I’ M THE [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997]]!!! THAT [[Little Sponge]] KNOWS I AM [100% Geniune And Trustworthy]!!!”

After convincing himself that the Lightner wasn’t misleading him, he sneaked into a glowing doorway, confirming that he didn’t alert any Ambyu-Lance, and traveled to a different part of the city. 

--

The doors couldn’t transport Lightners, only those made of Cyber World’s code and similar Darkner biology, which is why he was able to run through them, zipping from one entrance to the next. He ran by hundreds of Darkners and carefully treaded busy roads throughout his route, hopping through the chaotic traffic patterns with ease.

His legs would sometimes give out under the number of items he carried and his speed, but overall, he did his best to keep from being seen by the inner-city dwellers or from getting hit by cars. Every few doors, he would catch a glimpse of familiar faces, the angular grins of past traitors reigniting his resentment. He quickened his pace with each sight of those people.

He knew the way to his proposed location, having taken the path many times before. After a few more minutes of running, his pace slowed once he walked through the last doorway to his destination.

“[[Home, Sweet, Home]],” he halfheartedly mumbled to himself as he stopped walking. 

In front of him stood a green dumpster covered in warnings and Do-Not-Occupy decals, the stickers contradicting his intended use for the container. He peered over the edge to ensure a soft landing for his items, and when he was convinced the inside was cushioned properly, he threw his products in.

Following the items, he climbed in with the Pipis in his grip and landed on the trash heap. Then, the exhausted puppet grabbed a pillow hidden behind a garbage bag and took off his black jacket, muttering to himself about lights and batteries and his “brand-new customer.”

“I THINK… I [Think]...” His eyes drooped as he hugged the dirty pillow, tracing the clumsily-drawn smile on it. “I think I sh-should take a [[Rest On This Luxury Bedding]],” he muttered wearily, his actions and speech exposing his past self anew, “be-before the Lightner arrives….” Finally, he stretched, placed his jacket over himself, and situated the Pipis around his body before shutting his eyes for much-needed rest.

--

The fragmented vocals eased into sleepy stutters of the Darkner he used to be. Several years ago, he would’ve been sobbing into the mold-ridden pillow, pathetically gripping at the seams for faux comfort and affection, but now he would rather sleep than address his declining mental health. 

Other Darkners wouldn’t understand unless they saw for themselves his reason for escapism and even his waking foolhardiness.

Endlessly, he imagined the bright light, the light that nearly blinded him but also blessed his once-normal skin with light and love and everything a worthless Darkner could never encounter in the Dark Worlds. Of course, he was jealous of those damned Lightners, but at the same time, he recognized that same beauty and glow in their SOULs, the hearts that exist outside of their bodies, the entire culmination of their beings! 

Why, why, why couldn’t he have that? A Darkner doesn’t possess a SOUL, but what if they did? What if he, the best damned salesman in all of the Dark Worlds, could control a SOUL? He could leave the Cyber World, cross the Light World, and finally experience that constant love and warmth for the rest of his life. 

This longing made him wish he had never met any of them. Mike. The Knight. Jevil. Maybe his life still would’ve gone downhill, but at least he wouldn’t be cursed with the knowledge of a joy he could never savor. At least he wouldn’t feel the burn of acid and darkness drowning him, torturing him-

“STOP,” he stirred himself out of the dreams, “[Stop] the [Brain Train], YOU [Cheap] [[Waste Of Garage Space]]. I DON’T…” He glimpsed at a rotting poster on the midnight blue wall, reminding himself of what happened. “I-I’m not… 

[[Ughh.]]” His body shuddered as he nestled into the pillow and Pipis in a miserable attempt to soothe himself from the increasing cold and disturbing thoughts.

--

“Brrr-!!!” Pink huddled one arm around his torso while waiting for his friend to pick up.

Ring, ring.

“Wow, wish I grabbed my coat before I left today, haha! It’s getting kind of chilly!!! Are-are you [[Cold]], Lightner???” His voice shivered and glitched during the question.

You turned to him and tugged at your scarf, “Kind of, but not on the same level as you.” An idea popped into your head. Your shirt-and-vest insulated enough body heat that the cold didn’t bother you too much, and you were positive that you didn’t need the scarf. 

I could give him the scarf! Hopefully he doesn’t have any aversion to microfiber.

Ring, ring.

“Hey, Pink, I was wondering-”

Ring, ri- Click.

“Hold that thought, Lightner!”

     *(You hear a muffled hello from Pink’s phone.)

     *Nat-! Uh, I mean, Orange!

     *(Pink starts pacing around the stand area.)

     *Ahh, no, my shift is over!

     *Yes, I do have a Lightner with me at the moment!!! 

     *While we’re on the subject,

     *About the grill hangout...

     *(He continues walking back and forth, discussing your circumstances to his friend.)

You rested your chin in your palm while you waited for him to finish. Nat... Just like the name on the cotton candy.

--

Sitting with your elbow placed on your leg and your head in your hands isn’t comfortable, yet you fell asleep anyway. Before your slumber, your eyes followed Pink’s walking pattern, a metronome-like movement, and it soothed your brain into a drowsy trance. Then, unknown to you, your senses darkened into a dull haze, subtly shut off, and sent you into a disturbing, surreal place… 

...To a familiar darkness filled with endless mourning and colourful regret, with a sea of garbage and glass shards littering the ground in a trail to a dead-end.

     *(You embraced the grieving yellow figure sympathetically. After a short time, they released you and showed you a piece of shattered glass.)

     *(It was part of a broken light bulb. The same brand you got for him… for his shop.)

     *(You told the bundle of darkness that he hated LEDs, so you bought him incandescent bulbs. Sad chuckles filled the air.)

     *(A blue shadow continued the yellow’s dialogue after the weak merriment died down.)

     *Night after night, when we all went to the same cyber grill,

     *He’d shoot his mouth about making it big someday.

     *”You just watch!”

     *”Someday,

     *I’m gonna be a big shot!”

     *...it’s nice to hear that, Y/N.

     *I thought he would be too proud to accept gifts.

     *(You added that he liked the color and warmth of incandescent bulbs. 

     *He told you that it reminded him of 

     *”The Big One.” 

     *The Sun in the Light World.)

--

The pink Addison moved in optimistic strides around the area. Yet, even throughout his conversation, he was caught in a dilemma: tell the Lightner about Addison names now or address it when they meet the other pink Addisons.

Maybe, he hoped, those two would be too tired or too busy to attend! It would be a terrible coincidence if they came today of all days.

     *Hmm.

     *\\ What’s up, Seo?

     *Just thinking about Cro and Omni.

     *I don’t know how I’d explain that, you know?

     *The whole sharing-a-singular-work-name thing. Not being the only “Pink.”

He pulled out the crumpled tag from his pocket and groaned when he looked at the wrinkled name. Pink.

     *\\ Oh [#!%*]- Seo, I forgot to tell you!!!

     *\\ Everybody

     *\\ Is Coming

     *\\ To The Grill!

     *\\ Lol Whoops.

Seo crushed the sticker and scowled at the phone.

     *[[NAT]]-

     *\\ I’m super duper sorry, buddy! I didn’t know you were bringing a Lightner!

     *\\ But guess what!

     *\\ Cro and Omni won’t join us until we reach the tea shop,

     *\\ So you can tell the Lightner before then!!!

     *I just… wish I knew this beforehand.

He stopped pacing to look at them.

     *(Innocent Lightners are fast asleep.)

Seo shivered again and sat on the sidewalk near the Lightner, rubbing his arms for warmth. “Anyway, I’ve got your and Loyal’s candy bags, so you two don’t have to complain about food while we head to the grill! Like usual.”

The wind blew harder. “Ughh- Oh, before I forget, do you have an extra coat from Tee? I di-didn’t bring mine.”

After a short pause, Nat answered, “Nope, sorry, I don’t have an extra! Tee’s waiting in the other district with the rest of the guys; fortunately, Serp’s here so he can order a jacket if you need it.” 

Because of the recent decline in shoppers, it bothered Seo to ask for clothing from Tee or Serp, but he knew that those two, like any Addison, would bother him until he took whatever they offered. However, Serp was the worst of his friend group; he would pester everyone daily about mending the holes in their clothes for free or paying for Gage’s laundry services with his own money. That yellow menace would not rest if he found out Seo wouldn’t take a gift from him.

On one hand, he needed the coat--at this temperature, he’d be frozen in a few hours. On the other hand, though, he’d be taking away from Tee and Serp’s profits if he took the offer.

“Well-”

Someone interrupted in the call’s background, “Does the Lightner need one, too???”

Overlooking the Lightner and declining a gift on their behalf would be rude, so he swallowed his pride and accepted the present.

“Get a jacket for both of us, please.”