Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lab Discovera had to have the most ridiculous funding ever.

The place was ridiculously big. It rivaled the capital in Halcandra of all things, and not only that, it was still somehow functional! Most of the lights worked, the plumbing was somehow in pristine condition, and despite the overgrowth, there were barely any contaminants to be wary of. It was laboratory heaven…

For him anyway, Magolor was pretty sure he was the only one in their group who wanted to be here. Susie didn't count because she was interested in the technology, not the science, and there's a big difference.

It didn't matter though, they were here now. Him, Marx, Susie, and Elfilin.

They had all gone their own ways, except Marx, who stayed in the lobby. You see, they decided on a system. Magolor, Susie, and Elfilin would go around the facility collecting texts and anything else they could find. Then they'd bring what they found to Marx so he could translate it from Ancient into Standard English. And from there, they could enjoy their newfound knowledge together. A swell plan that could never go wrong ever!

It went wrong very quickly.

Lab Discovera was laboratory heaven, but it was also laboratory hell. Everywhere he looked, there was a lab. No matter where he went, what floor he was on, or how deep into the hallways he ventured. There were only lab rooms in Lab Discovera. He initially thought of it as an obvious thing. Of course there were a lot of lab rooms, he was in the equivalent of a lab city! So, he paid it little mind. After all, there was no harm in having a bit too many laboratories. That is until he realized he could not find an exit.

He had become lost in lab hell, and if he was creeped out by the idea of being trapped in an endless lab city, then he would totally be laughing at himself. But no, he had to get lost in one of the worst places to get lost ever. Not only were the labs slightly suspicious, especially in the area he was in, but he was certain that with each floor, with each hallway, they were degrading in quality. Becoming older every couple of rooms or so, with only a few exceptions every now and then. It led him to make the conclusion that Lab Discovera wasn't exactly a city of labs, but rather it was several. It was not laboratory heaven at all.

But that wasn't what made the plan go wrong. No, that was just Magolor's experience. The true flaw in their plan was the fact that only Marx could read Ancient. Which, by the way, the whole lab used. Directions, notes, location names. Every single thing was written in Ancient, and the only person who could understand it was in the lobby, relaxing. So, not only was he lost his chances of finding the exit were minimal at best, impossible at worst.

It didn't help that after he realized that, he realized why Marx of all people had suggested the plan in the first place. That annoying midget...

Whatever.

He had fallen for the plan and now he had to deal with the consequences. Just another thing to deal with in his already long list. Nothing new.

So, Magolor kept walking through the labs. Slowly strolling through the hallways he found the most interesting while avoiding the most decrepit and unkempt ones. There were no dead ends, each hallway lead to another, which then lead to another, and another… But nothing looked quite the same. It was easy to tell one lab from another, and some areas even had whole themes that differentiated them from the rest. And yet, when walking through them all and taking everything in, it blended in his mind. It turned into a swirl of colors, greenery, and whatever else he'd seen. A complete mess, just like the maze he was in.

There was no doubt in his mind that in a few hours he was going to go insane if he couldn't find an exit. Like, genuinely, he could not imagine lasting more than a day in here, and it didn't help that there was no food. There were no drinks either, so if it really came down to it, his body would last about… three days. Despite his denial towards all of Marx's remarks, he was a literal piece of spaghetti. Tall and most certainly skinny. He barely ate on a regular basis, and he drank pure caffeine. Which was technically poison for him, even if it didn't seem to affect him that much. So, yeah, pristine health to have during a possible survival situation.

Strangely enough though, for the first time in his life, Magolor felt kind of glad he was only 7ft and not 10ft. Then again, if he had been 10ft like every other Halcandran, he wouldn't have been able to get into this mess in the first place. Seriously, why were the Ancients so short? And why didn't they consider the height of other beings when creating their pretty little structures? He secretly wished all the Ancient architects went to their version of hell for this, but then again all of their architects couldn't be like this. They built the Lor and her large, imposing doorways, so some of them had to have been at least somewhat considerate. They were on thin ice though, very thin ice. 

However, the overgrowth was starting to get pretty bad to the point where the architecture didn't matter. No matter where he went now, there were plants forcing him to crouch. Where there should've been space to stand up, was now taken. It was extremely annoying to say the least. He was certain this would cost him big time tomorrow, if he escaped that is.

But there was no 'up' elevator. They just went down and down, further into the abyss that was Lab Discovera. Deep and deeper into the long-lost forgotten depths of hell itself. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it really did feel like he was going into hell. And Magolor wouldn't call himself religious, Halcandra as a whole was fairly atheist, but he's certain that there is a god out there whose version of hell is exactly this. Overgrown lab rooms and all.

But he supposes there is some benefit to going this deep into the lab. There are a lot of things in these lab rooms. Old reports, ancient documents and devices, and best of all, books. All kinds of books. Big books, textbooks, picture books, comic books, stupidly detailed cover books, books written in a language that looks like Ancient but with.. accents? Uh… Self-made books? Well, it didn't quite matter. If it looked like a book and it was light enough, he would snatch it. However, with the way he was hunched over and the ever-growing weight of the books, he had to eventually stop. It was a bit depressing to walk through the lab after that. Seeing all the things and pieces that would never see the light of day because they had the luck of being stuck here. It made him feel a bit-

"WELCOME, VISITORS, TO THE DREAM DISCOVERIES TOUR-"

Magolor screamed and almost instantly banged his head against the ceiling.

"OF OUR SCIENCE FACILITY, LAB DISC- DISC- DISSSSCCCCCOOOVV ERAaaa – "

What he assumed to be the intercom died out in static, and Magolor was left on the floor, in silence.

…

First off, what the actual fuck?

Why? Why did that play? Why did it have the happiest, creepiest music in existence accompanying it? Why did it have to be so blaringly loud? He might have sensitive ears, but that shit could make anyone deaf.

And secondly, what in the world was it talking about? Was that spoken Ancient? Because it sounded like a worse, completely mispronounced Common English. Absolutely abysmal language if he was going off what he just heard.

He needed a moment after that. A big moment to just.. think.. and stuff. Yeah, reconsider his horrible life choices and calm down... Take a good look at his surroundings and rest his back as a bonus.

It was there he noticed something. There was a long, thin off-white object right next to him. It was a good couple of inches shorter than his arm and had a couple cracks here and there. Nothing special at first sight, until he shifted a bit and realized it was a bone. And right next to it..? A dry, dark brown stain. Many stains actually, all hidden by the same overgrowth that had overtaken the hallways.

It wasn't particularly startling. He'd seen blood and bones before, fresh ones too, but something about this one felt different. The atmosphere felt all wrong, too peaceful and calm. Yet it was also unsettling, making his stomach churn ever so slightly. He hadn't seen any other things like it in this world yet, after all, they had all supposedly left. This corpse however, these bones, proved not everyone made it. But what killed this person then? They clearly didn't die by natural means. Did someone kill them? Did… Some thing kill them?

Magolor let out a shaky breath and stood up slowly. He had to continue, and if some creature stood in his way, then it'd just be another thing to deal with. So, he continued his slow walk into the depths of Lab Discovera. 

And things were looking grim. While every 'zone' he passed before was relatively clean and well maintained despite the plants and whatnot, this area he was entering was very clearly the opposite. It was a complete mess. Flickering lights, dirty floors, and broken equipment all over the place. The overgrowth surprisingly looked no different, it wasn't worse nor better than what he'd already seen. Looking further into the hallway, it seemed like some of the lights gave out entirely at one point too. There was even yellow and black striped tape at its entrance; a common sign it had been abandoned long before the rest of the lab. 

The worst part was that this was just one hallway out of however many were closed off beyond this point. There could be hundreds of these broken-down hallways. The lab rooms were probably even worse. With all the stuff the prior lab rooms were filled with, it'd probably be best if he didn't enter any of them. Just in case.

Slowing down out of caution, Magolor began his trek through the ruined labs paying little mind to the details around him. The broken flasks and spilled chemicals were nothing, he convinced himself. He'd gone through worse areas. Places like prisons, and ruins, where getting caught meant certain death. But maybe it wasn't the certainty of death that made this place as creepy as it was, but the uncertainty of it. Someone died here before, and that should've been enough of an indicator that he should turn back. He couldn't turn back however, he was stuck in a maze. A huge maze filled with directions and things he couldn't understand, so the only thing he could do was go forward.

Forward on to… Whatever was down here he supposed. Whether that be a creature or a rogue science experiment was up to fate.

He was getting distracted. While walking in a possibly dangerous old lab. His survival instincts were completely failing him today. Forget dealing with the creatures, the moment he saw one he was probably going to trip and die if this was any indication.

A rumble. A rumble shook the facility. And then another rumble, and another rumble, till Magolor finally heard the cause. 

Explosions. Something was exploding in the distance above him.

Well shit.

He was stuck in what may be the bottom of Lab Discovera. Exploring what may be the dirtiest and most dangerous labs he's ever seen. And suddenly, out of nowhere, there are explosions? This place already looked like a hazard, and it now was suddenly coming apart. What kind of god did he piss off to deserve this?

The real concerning part about it too, was that they were getting closer. Being the very intelligent Halcandran he was, he began to run. A bit of a difficult task considering the roof and his height. He didn't want to become a pile of guts though, not today.

He turned left, then right, then left again a couple of corridors down, two lefts after that…

While he would originally describe the labs as a swirl of colors, they were now a disaster of… disgust? Horribleness? His adrenaline made everything an uglier swirl as he ran down through the ancient halls. He couldn't pay attention to any details or places, he just kept running.

Another rumble throughout the labs made him stumble a bit, but his pace continued. This situation was familiar to him, he had run away from many dangerous things before. This was technically no different. He couldn't tell the building's structural integrity though... or would it be buildings? Obviously it looked like it was in a bad condition, but Lab Discovera was a large interconnected complex, right? So if one building fell, the others shouldn't fall. The problem with that was that Magolor had no idea where he even was. Was he in a building? Or in its basement? Then he had a realization. There was no separation between buildings, and barely any windows. Not only that, they were on a volcano, and he had gone through several elevators down.

He might've reached the volcano.

With that, Magolor tripped and fell head-first onto the ground. Blunt pain burned through his face, and he coughed. The air was disgustingly thick, so he tried to scramble his way up again as fast as he could. Suddenly, a much larger shake in the building forced him to stick to the wall. Despite the threat of falling on the floor, however, Magolor kept moving. He speed-walked against the wall.

 It was a struggle, as the building wobbled again and again. Walls began to crack horribly. Pieces of the roof started to fall in places he had been in just moments prior.

It was shocking. Shocking without emotion. And it continued for another minute perhaps, before it was over. No more rumbling, no more movement. A silent calm presence took over in place of the crazed explosions and collapsing cement. The calm did not immediately equal 'good' because the floor still felt weak. Ceiling crumbs fell and mingled with the rest of the foul air. Everything felt like it was on its last legs. If he took one wrong step, it would all fall apart.

And when that happens, Marx would no doubt laugh at his corpse. So that fate needed to be avoided at all costs.

Luckily, there was a light at the end of this particular hallway. A beacon of hope in the form of a flashing red in the distance. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Magolor slowly walked to the light. He didn't know if it was safe, but it was something. There was nowhere else to wander to.

It felt like it took ages to get there, yet it wasn't a very long distance. It was just a couple of minutes ahead. He didn't stop to rest, nor did he speed up, but even if something did change, he would've still felt the same. Because Magolor, the Builder of a Hundred Theme Parks, the infamous Halcandran Menance, was out. He was out mentally. But could he be blamed for it? Today was not going well, far from well really. And he'd what, spent more than an hour in this maze? This ungodly, disgusting architectural mess that even Void would gag at? Even Kirby, who had traversed caves and who-knows-what-else would look at this disaster and think, "Wow! That's horrendously designed!".

And Magolor had to suffer through it all, no breaks allowed. But he was still sane. The Magolor that went in would be the same one to come out. Because in the grand scheme of things, this was nothing but some little maze in the middle of nowhere, and he wasn't about to be beaten by it. Nah, he had gone through much, much worse. He might be tired, yes, but he wasn't going to go down till he put the gremlin that got him into this situation in the dirt where he belonged. If he needed to use pure willpower and spite to do that, so be it.

So, with his head a bit clearer now, Magolor looked up at the thing that emitted the light in the first place. To his pleasant surprise, it was an elevator! It was about time he got dealt something good in this abyss. Although, it was a suspicious elevator in an already suspicious lab. How good could it actually be? Well, he was about to find out, because pressing the button to call the elevator had it open the doors near-instantly. It filled him with dread, but he walked in anyway. To make things better or possibly worse, the elevator had at least 30 buttons. At least, because he wasn't going to bother counting how many there were. He could live with an estimation. There was just one problem now. He didn't know what floor was the ground floor. Yes, all the buttons had numbers that were.. legible, but there didn't seem to be any indication of a ground floor. If there had been, then it had to have gotten erased.

He wanted to find a pathway back, and it was likely that the ground floor had some sort of connection to the lobby he came from. He was currently underground though, on a floor that may or may not be the last in the building. He, unfortunately, didn't have enough information, and there was nothing outside the elevator to indicate the level. He was going to have to guess and press a random button. Alternatively, however, he could simply go to the highest floor possible, and from there, fly all the way back. It'd drain his magic a bit sure, but it would be an effective method. The only risk in that plan would be whatever caused the explosions. If what caused them was an object of sorts, then he would likely be fine. If it was a foreign creature, then he'd have to fight what he suspected to be a walking explosion. At the end of the day, no matter what option he took, there was the possibility the elevator simply didn't work. The chance that he may still be stuck on this unstable, horrible floor.

But trying was better than doing nothing, so he pressed the top button. It might be dangerous and risky, but flying from the roof would definitely be the fastest option. Now, he just hoped that the top button meant the roof and not something else. He did not want to get sent to a near replica of this floor, or any other floor really. Knowing his luck though…

"G-going u-u-u-u-"

The elevator began to slowly rise. It was a bit too slow for Magolor, but it worked. It stuttered a bit, but it worked. Weird sounds were coming from above him, but it worked.

It worked until it didn't. The elevator stopped, and Magolor grabbed the handle on the side. Something began to creak. Not only from above, but from the sides. He swallowed as the elevator began to slide down ever so slightly.

"There ha- beeeeen a-"

Whatever was ringing out through the speakers was meaningless to him. It was nothing but a garble of sounds that made no sense. It sounded like an omen, but it didn't matter.

The elevator began to rise again at a faster pace than before. It stuttered less, and when it passed a floor it caused a small ding. The creaking was still present, as well as the garble, but-

"Errrrrrr- or errrror errr-"

The elevator jolted down all of the sudden. His grip on the handle hardened.

And then…

The elevator dropped.

Chapter Text

…

…

Ugh…

Everything hurts…

Everything… hurts…

Wait…

Magolor was alive.

He was in pain, but he was alive.

Somehow, some way, the god that had taken so much joy out of torturing him had now given him a miracle.

He was never going to ride another one of these elevators though. He liked having some thrill in his life, but this was not it. Nope, this was nightmare material. Plain and simple. It wasn't going to haunt him forever, but he'd think about it. He'd think real hard on it and regret everything that ever led to it until he forgot. Just like every other stupid thing he's done. Regret and forget, it was kind of his motto.

Regretting in a broken-down elevator was probably not a good idea however. If it fell down once, it could fall down twice. Or so he thought, because he wasn't an elevator mechanic and never wanted to be one. So, Magolor slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with an insane amount of dust. It was then and there that his lungs remembered that breathing dust was bad, and he began to cough. It was horrible, as his mouth was extremely dry and everything tasted like sand and ashes.

And when he finally stopped coughing, he felt something wet near his lip. His limbs felt heavy to use, but with one slow hand, he touched whatever was on his lip. It wasn't just on his lips however, it was on his cheeks, his forehead and… Oh, it's blood then. He was bleeding. He was bleeding from his head. Fantastic. This never-ending saga of his was only getting worse and worse, wasn't it? He hadn't even left the elevator yet…

It was honestly a bit worrying. If he was bleeding and coughing up a lung inside, then what would await him outside? Magma? He didn't know how far the elevator dropped, but considering that it barely went up a few floors, it was fair to say he had gone deep underground. If he wasn't an elevator expert, he was most surely not a volcano expert. Even if he had lived on a volcano planet. It wasn't hot though, or warm for that matter. Just uncomfortably neutral and… Humid? He was stuck in a dusty elevator, so his judgment on it wasn't entirely accurate. Which reminded him yet again, get out of the elevator .

Thinking for several minutes had not fixed the absolute soreness and heaviness of his limbs. They were stubborn, like they had a mind of their own. He made some progress by getting into a crawl, but his knees were not at all happy with it. They hurt, they hurt a lot. He supposed that they hit something during the fall. Either that or his bones were sentient and against him. It took an almost stupid amount of effort to kneel, and it took even more effort to start leaning on the handle. His body ached terribly, but he persisted. So now he was leaning over the handle, unable to stand at full height. 

He couldn't walk however, at least not without some kind of support. It made leaving the elevator near impossible. His head was also starting to ache, no doubt from the possible concussion he got. It was then that a grim thought entered his mind. What if he could never leave the elevator? What if he got stuck in this stupid elevator for all eternity until he died? 

What if this was Marx's plan all along? To lure him into the labs so he would die alone and cold? What if he was possessed by that evil god who wanted him dead? What if the elevator was possessed by an evil god who wanted him dead?

…Ok maybe the blood loss was starting to get to him. All of that was just… ridiculous. Although, it wasn't the first time he had to deal with a possessed elevator.

This elevator wasn't nearly as violent as that one though, nor did it speak. In fact, it was dreadfully silent. There was no noise other than himself. No whirring of machines, no subtle cricks and cracks, no ambiance whatsoever. This place was empty. This place was unnatural. It made Magolor shiver just the slightest bit, because his muscles were still too frozen in pain to shiver any more than that. Forget the elevator being possessed, this whole place felt off. Like, this was some kind of forbidden area that not even the scientists knew about. If that wasn't ominous then nothing was. It was, of course, a guess, so whether or not this place was cursed or something would only be confirmed when he left the elevator.

Which he still needed to do!!!

His limbs were still in pain, and they would likely remain that way for the rest of the day or even week if he was unlucky. This was getting ridiculous however, he needed to leave. If the pain wouldn't go away in a minute then fuck it, he was leaving anyway. Pain and all. That's what he was thinking until he nearly tripped trying to get to the doors. Ok, maybe he should think about his movement a bit more before moving. Tripping in this condition was not in any way ideal or a good idea. He did end up away from the handle though, that was a small plus. Even if he was now leaning on the wall instead, it would work out in the end. From this position, he could reach the doors (Which he only now just realized were open, huh, strange.) and pull himself off the wall and onto the outside of the elevator. The hardest part would be pulling himself onto the door. That would require putting some pressure on his arms, who were still not very willing to comply with his desires.  Regardless of what his weak bones and weaker muscles wanted to do, if he wanted to go to the door he would. 

So, he did, and he once again almost fell.

He did end up on the door though! So his small plan worked out despite the pain accompanying it. Now, to figure out where to go to.. next...

Wow. This place looks like shit.

Imagine a corridor, not a very long one, but rather a mid-sized one. Now, imagine rocks, dirt, garbage, all over that hallway. Imagine pastel green walls peeling off and whole chunks of the roof on the floor. It looked downright horrendous. Magolor almost wanted to go back in the elevator because just looking at this place was going to give him a disease. If the buildings on this world were ruins to them, then this place must've been ruins to the Ancients. To add to that idea, there was barely any technology to be seen unlike in the labs above. The furniture looked like it was beyond repair. It was beyond description really, and Magolor would have to traverse that while injured. He'd have to touch the walls, not fall on the disgusting grime-filled floor, breathe hundred-year-old air. All of that, just for a possible escape.

He sighed. At the very least, his life wasn't being directly threatened again. Just as those thoughts were completed, however, he heard the mechanical whirring of the elevator again. Yeah, even the elevator itself wanted him to leave. So, he shifted to the outside of the elevator door. There was unfortunately barely any place to move to from there though. The walls seemed just a bit too distant, and the furniture seemed just a bit too broken. Theoretically, he could move the furniture that covered the walls adjacent to the elevator so he could lean on them. Thus allowing him to walk down the hallway easily, excluding the rest of the things on the walls. It wouldn't be very hard to pull off, but the furniture could be heavy. He didn't have a choice regardless.

Magolor shifted to the right slowly, keeping in mind his injuries and his surroundings. The floor was littered with all kinds of things, so his eyes were glued to the floor for the most part. Now, he considered the things on the side of the elevator as furniture, just like everything else in the hallway, but it was an inaccurate description. They were more akin to stands of some sort. The kind you would place to advertise something or use as a warning. These in particular looked like warning signs, with their bright color and big singular shape with words, but there was no way he could read it. It didn't really matter though, he'd push it and then be on his way, but when he tried to do that, it didn't work. He tried to shove it just a little bit harder, and this time he got results in the form of a little bit of movement. Seemed like his original theory of them being hard to move was true. He would have to push it every once in a while so his legs didn't crumble from the pain. It almost made him want to verbally curse out the designers of this place, but he knew better than to open his mouth in a place like this.

The process was dreadfully slow though, especially since they were heavy metal signs without any wheels... 

Huh?

There was a paper stuck on the back of this particular sign. A paper with instructions..? From the low visibility of the area, to the dirt and grime all over the place, the yellow paper was incredibly hard to read. Well, look at, not read, it was written in a different language that looked suspiciously like Ancient. That and he was too tall to read it. The good thing was that there were pictures. Pictures drawn in pencil and faded from time, but pictures nevertheless. And said pictures seemed to have wheels. He still couldn't see the paper clearly enough in order to comprehend it, however. He was going to need to pick it up. That presented a problem, he would need to crouch down in order to pick up the paper. Unfortunately for him, he was still too weak to do anything like crouching, so he would need to stick to his poor understanding of the paper.

If it was really a set of instructions, then they had to be showing how to do something, presumably with the sign. Since there were wheels in the pictures, it could then be assumed that the instructions were about the wheels. There were also arrows, very crude arrows drawn all over the place, but most importantly, in one spot. A drawing of.. a rectangle.. with a circle? And there were bigger circles under the rectangle. Those had to be wheels, so the rectangle had to be the stand sign thing. Now the small circle in the sign itself... Would that be a button? It made sense, but he didn't see anything resembling a button on the side. No marked-out circles anywhere. He was really hoping that this supposed button wasn't on the other side because there was no way he was going to reach it then. So he focused, focused real hard on looking for that circle, and then he saw it.

A miniature, ridiculously tiny circle, right at the bottom of the sign. He squinted, there was no way that the button was actually small, right? Like, that thing wasn't even a button. It was a little circular blip in comparison to the 4 feet or so stand it was on. And this 'button' controlled the wheels that he currently needed. Magolor wanted to sigh so badly, but he resisted. He was not going to sigh because of a stupid little button, his mouth would remain firmly shut. 

The obvious problem now was how to press it. He could kick it, but the chance of it hitting the button hard enough to activate was going to be low. It'd probably hurt his leg too. He had no choice though, it was either try to get the wheels out, or push the sign ever so slowly so he could continue. There was also the possibility that it doesn't work as well, but he was going to pretend that possibility didn't exist. He had had enough with things going awry. 

Taking another small step towards the stand, he focused and then kicked the side of the stand lightly. Nothing happened, it didn't even move. He'd need to use more force then. So he tried again, this time wincing as his legs complained in the form of pain yet again. Other than the sign moving slightly, nothing happened. Even more force, how annoying. This time he braced right before kicking the stupid sign, but it didn't really make a difference. He was forced to bend down slightly with his legs now begging for the floor, but no. He couldn't get on that floor again. Moving past the pain though revealed that the sign had finally popped out its wheels. Thank-fucking-goodness.

That thing had a horrendous design. He wanted to punch it, no, he wanted to destroy it. Obliterate it and then wipe it from his memory. Nobody should be allowed to put buttons that small on such large objects.  Alas, he lived in a world full of people like Marx. People who were midget sized and couldn't comprehend the pain of someone as tall as him navigating in a world full of ants. At the very least, those people didn't brag about it like Marx did. That was one of their few redeeming qualities. Along with Kirby. He was also a redeeming quality. Kinda, maybe, he needed to think on it more and this nightmare of a lab wasn't allowing him to think.

Most of the remaining furniture and what-not in his path had wheels. The ones that didn't had to be unfortunately shoved ever so slowly to the middle. His leg muscles were never going to recover from this, but his arms were doing... decently? He hadn't been using them too much other than leaning on them, so they hurt, just not as much as his legs did. Doors were another concern on his list though. While there were only 3 doors in his path, if one of them was open, he'd have to push himself off the wall to continue. He couldn't lean on an open door after all, but he could lean on a closed one. And after a minute of processing this thought, he realized what an idiot he was. He could just close the doors. No need to stress his muscles further. His place was actually rotting his brain, so he sped up as much as his legs allowed him to. Which is to say, he barely changed speed.

He continued his slow path of walk-leaning and furniture-pushing until reaching the very end of the hallway. There lay a door much grander than the rest and made with metal instead of wood. It would've been more threatening if there wasn't rust all over it and Magolor didn't feel so tired, but the door was merely a door. It couldn't complain. He, however, could, and he really wanted to complain about this door. Its mechanical design did not include any kind of door knob. that or the detection systems didn't work anymore. There was a panel next to the door, filled with buttons and whatnot. There was a keypad too, so the door was likely password locked. 

 There was also an emergency button.

Now he couldn't confirm if it was actually an emergency button, but it was colored red and had arrows pointing to it. Color and shape language told him that at the very least it was special. The real question was why the hell was there a password-protected door with an emergency button!? If you're using a password-protected door, you obviously want to keep something safe, so why would you put something that completely bypasses that protection? What were these architects on ? He couldn't even blame this on the Ancient architects if this place was truly older than them. In fact, he was completely wrong about them in the first place. No, the reason they were bad at designing buildings in the first place was because they inherited their skills from these idiots. These incompetent idiots who could not make a proper password-protected door and-

He was overreacting over a door.

A stupid door he could open with one button.

...

This lab was genuinely cursed and Magolor was not going to let anyone change his mind on that.

He slowly moved up to the suspected emergency and with little hesitancy, pressed it. He wasn't going to overthink anything this time, nor was he going to prepare himself. He was tired, he needed caffeine, and all his caffeine was back on the Lor. The door didn't open immediately. It almost worried him for a moment, but when it did he was blessed with a face full of dust. Magolor stumbled around from his coughing as tried to expel the invasive dust. Unfortunately, his attempts only ended in failure as he only got the dust in his mouth and throat. Moments passed as he kept coughing up the stuff without any sort of change. It was once again a miracle that saved him as his body eventually gave up in its attempts to 'undust' itself and he was allowed a rest. A terrible rest, mind you, but one he took to breathe more oxygen.

Once he deemed himself fit enough to go towards the door again, he saw it.

Natural sunlight.

Actual fucking sunlight oh my god-

Magolor promptly ran into the room before reality reminded him his legs were still nonfunctional. This then caused him to flail and trip until he grabbed tightly onto a desk on the opposite side of the room. Which, after a small moment, he realized was a somewhat impressive feat, even if his legs were on metaphorical fire right now. And he meant metaphorical fire in the most literal way possible. He must've twisted something because his left leg was screaming bloody murder. It almost reminded him of his first treasure hunting adventure back in Halcandra. He had broken both his legs back then, and he was left with an eerie sense of understanding for the harsh world he had to grow up in. 

But now wasn't the time for stories. He had to focus on the present. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral out of control. The exit was practically right next to him. Sort of, it was at least 2 meters, but if he got on a wall he would be able to-

He yelped and winced.

Oookay… maybe he should rest a moment. He hurt that leg badly . A bit too badly apparently, it felt worse than it did before. It forced him to have to put almost all his weight on his other leg, causing it to start reminding him why he hadn't been doing that the whole way here. He was forced to uncomfortably lean over the desk in order to alleviate some pressure off of it, but he was so tall that it barely worked. It was a terrible position, but somewhat serviceable until he figured out something else. So, he began to scan the room for something else to rest on.

The right side of the room contained his door to freedom, the exit. It was a set of clear sliding doors, or a clear sliding door. The other half of it lay broken and sad on the dusty tiles of the floor. Along with it were several pieces of furniture akin to the kind he encountered before in the hallway. Except unlike the hallway, there were several more things in this room. Lamps, end tables, and chairs! Which unsurprisingly were all broken and unusable. Just his luck hitting him once again. Well, if the right didn't have anything good, he'd check the left. To his left, there was a much larger hallway than one before. In fact, it was nearly reminiscent of the one above, technological advancements and rust aside. This 'room' he was in must've been the lobby of this... secret lab? Or was it just an older Lab Discovera? They are connected after all. Regardless, the quality of furniture and the state of the hallway was the same as the rest. Broken, dusty, and most definitely not safe to be around. It was useless to him.

Turning back towards the desk he was on, he did consider properly sitting on it. It was a lobby desk so it was probably built to last, and it had also been carrying his weight for a while. However, just as Marx would always say, he was heavy. He may have been born a tall twig, but he was also born a stupidly heavy twig. It wouldn't be entirely wrong to say that he was a bit worried about whether his arms could push him up slightly. They were still sore, and as much as he wanted to do so, something told him he shouldn't, and in situations like this, following his gut feeling was important. This meant that he would need to lean over this desk a good while longer, how fun.

He turned his eyes back to the desk he was at. It was a rather tall lobby desk all things considered. He wouldn't be surprised if Marx was only barely taller than it. In general most of the things in this section of the facility seemed weirdly bigger than they should be. Like they were made for tall people and only a specific set of tall people. It didn't matter though, he wouldn't act salty about it. He instead decided to focus on the items on the desk. There were several, familiar and unfamiliar, things all over the desk. From what he could assume was some kind of phone, to a strange tube with goo, to a depressing yellow keyboard. The variety of these items almost made him want to believe he was playing some kind of puzzle game. Trying to find out just where 'X' was in an incomprehensible mess. This desk was far from a mess though. It was clean, as clean as a possibly thousand-year-old desk could get anyway. The items were in a natural position that could technically count as organized and nothing could be considered 'out of place'. With one exception.. maybe.

There was a book a bit to his right, placed near the opposite edge of the desk. It was thin, brown, and generally unimpressive. Its appearance marked it as a book and nothing more, but something about it was off. It had some kind of magical energy to it he couldn't quite explain. Like it was familiar but vastly unfamiliar at the same time. But that didn't quite make sense with this lab, or this planet for that matter. Not because it seemed bizarre, but because it shouldn't have any energy to begin with. This planet was a magic-less one, the technology here being reliant on electricity proved as much. So, how could an object with a magic signature like this one make it to a place like this? The only conclusion he could come up with was that someone had come by at one point between the planet being abandoned and misplaced it. That would also explain the broken door. Someone could've barged, explored, left their book here, and left without ever noticing it. A simple and logical explanation, but it couldn't be that simple right? 

Hell, what would the chances of this occurring even be? Hardly anyone left the Standard's field of influence willingly. With the exception of exploration teams and the like, most people never come even come close to its borders. Because honestly, who wants to? The unknown part of the universe is known to be one of the most dangerous areas.. ever. Not because there are no maps or commodities, no, it's because of the creatures that exist there. Dragons, eldritch beings, monsters, living constellations, phoenixes, pure elementals, the list goes on. All of them existed and lived within the Known Universe once, but Ancients and their precursors almost exterminated them. Leaving them as mere terrifying myths and legends meant to scare children. Outside of the Known Universe, however? They thrived . It's what made the expansion of the Known Universe nearly impossible. So traveling to this specific location, at a generally specific point in time, and accidentally leaving a suspicious book in such a secluded location seemed impossible at best and.. impossible at worst.

Then again, he had been having one of the most outrageously stupid days of his life, so perhaps the theory wasn't as impossible as it seemed.

Magolor moved off the desk to where he was still leaning over it, but not slouching over it. His legs were put back to work and his small break proved to have some effect. They still hurt like hell, especially his left leg, but the pain had lessened. Slowly, he moved towards the right end of the desk. When the book was in arms reach, he simply shifted fowards a bit until he could grab it. He pulled it over easily, and when he opened to the first page...

Ancient. The writing was in Ancient. He couldn't read this. The plan was a bust, or was it?

If it was written in Ancient, then his theory wasn't exactly wrong. Assuming that this was one of many Ancient civilizations, whoever came here in between its collapse and Kirby's arrival must've showed up to check on them. They then accidentally left the book as they left the ruined lab and assuring that there was nothing left. That would also explain why someone would go to this planet, as the Ancients had a tendency to try to colonize everything. Even planets outside the Known Universe were fair game to them. When this particular one disappeared, the other civilizations must've noticed. There was just one problem with the theory.

He didn't notice it before, but the book was practically a box of dust. In fact, the boring dullness of it was merely the dust layer that had formed on it. When he noticed, Magolor grabbed a part of his cape and began to remove the dust and dirt that had accumulated on the cover. This threw his theory into the garbage, as the book had about the same amount of dust as the rest of the room. Something left behind at a later point in time wouldn't have nearly the same amount of grime as something left at an earlier point.

Annoying, but whatever. His brain was starting to hurt from all the thinking and theory crafting. He was going to need Marx to translate it later either way, so whether not his theory was wrong or not could be figured out later.

He took one final look at it before pocketing it away in his robes, reminding him that he had put a lot of stuff there. That was probably how he got hurt in the elevator too. All of that stuff he brought with him was no doubt weighing him down, but it was all for research and he refused to leave anything he picked up behind. If he did, then he'd have to come back, and Magolor did not in any way shape or form want to come back here after this trip.

There was the issue of his leg muscles still aching, but there was nothing he could do to help them without wasting time. He would have to painfully walk with a limp all the way back to the lobby. He wouldn't even be walking, would he? He'd be climbing up the volcano. Yeah, the trip back would not be fun at all. He could try using some kind of cane-like support like a pole, but finding one for his height would be impossible. So, no support. He was really starting to dread this climb back. But it needed to be done, he needed to return to Marx so he could not only be able to understand the stuff he brought with him, but so he could also go home. 

Letting out a dry sigh, Magolor lifted himself off the desk. He wobbled for a moment and had a permanent wince on his face, but he managed to stand. Then he tried to take a few steps, only to begin wobbling yet again. His stability was very weak from the look of things. So, he took small steps with his hands spread out to balance better. It worked to some degree, but he was barely moving with his left leg unable to support his weight for more than a second. How he was going to continue this up the volcano though? This was painful enough. He couldn't imagine going through a steep section like this. His legs would likely give way and end up worse than they already were if he tried. Granted he even got to such a section of the volcano in the first place. Considering his speed, it'd take hours to get there. If only he could-

Fly...

He could float. He could fucking float and fly up the mountain without ever touching the ground and he forgot.

Out of all the things to forget, it was his stupid magic ability to float. Magolor pulled on his hair and grit his teeth. He could've gotten out of here faster had he just floated off the ground. The roof didn't even matter because he just float an inch or so. He almost wanted to punch himself more than he wanted to punch Marx. He should really exit the lab at this point. It was messing with his memories now and he did not need this stress.

As struggled his way out (Because even if the roof didn't matter, he wasn't sure about his control at the moment. He didn't need more brain damage.), he considered a couple of things. Firstly, floating in this state would require quite a bit of magic energy. It'd likely leave him defenseless for the most part, but he was already tired beyond belief. He wouldn't need to defend himself anyway if they were going to leave. Secondly, he would have to deal with Marx later. He was in no condition to fight the gremlin at the moment. Thirdly, and most importantly, he likely wouldn't get the translation for all the stuff he stole until a few weeks later. There was a lot of material to go through and that wasn't counting what the others had with them. This was a pretty big request, and he wouldn't be surprised if Marx decided not to translate anything in the end. 

Kirby did force him to go on this trip though, and Marx typically listened to Kirby with few exceptions. It was kind of strange from an outsider's point of view. The way that Marx would always berate or harass others, yet listen to Kirby with almost rapt attention. Then again, the guy died at the child's hands. Even if it wasn't a permanent death, revival via soul fracture is an.. experience. An experience Magolor remembers vividly. Following Kirby around because of it was an understandable response he supposed. Because, well, that's what he himself is doing isn't he? Whatever Kirby told him to do, he did with little hesitation. A mildly inconvenienced Kirby was a terrible Kirby to talk to and ask favors from. It was not a reaction driven by fear, but rather logic. But did Marx have the same reasoning as him? As hard as it was to imagine Marx being afraid of tiny Kirby, it wouldn't be too out of place. Kirby could be.. unsettling? Disturbing? No, disturbing was too strong. Unnerving? Off-putting? Or maybe-

Magolor couldn't finish the thought as a smoke-filled gale smacked him right in the face. He didn't scrunch his face, however, nor did he look away. He was from Halcandra, smoky winds were normal to him. But he was not on Halcandra. He was on a completely different planet. On a singular volcano, and not a volcanic planet. The winds continued to hit him relentlessly, but each time they felt softer, more familiar. An explosion rang off in the distance and the heat made him feel healthier in the way that only a good rest at home would. For a good minute, he seriously thought he'd gone through a portal.

The implications of that statement quickly rattled him out of his trance, and Magolor breathed. This place was the Redgar Forbbiden Lands. Spoken about by Kirby with the same unnatural distaste in tone that he reserved for things like butterflies. It must've reminded him of Halcandra too because their resemblance was uncanny. It was rather nice though. He hadn't seen his home in a while, if he could even call it his home anymore. There was just one slight problem though, where was he? He didn't remember stepping through the door(s) so he must've been lost in thought. He was also a good distance away from the lab and his leg pain was minimal. Absolutely bizarre, but if this didn't prove that the lab was cursed and causing him harm then... Then...

Whatever. He wasn't going to keep questioning this or thinking about it. He needed to fly up the volcano, get to everyone else, leave, and then enjoy a nice shot of caffeine. He was not going to stare out into the distance any longer.

Magolor focused for a moment and allowed his magic to carry him upwards. He didn't go too high, just a good 3 feet off the ground. From there, he slowly flew his way up. Slowly, not quickly, flying too fast would make his brain swim. He felt too tired to go any faster anyway. So, he drifted a bit. He didn't drift off to sleep, of course, he drifted into his thoughts again.

Lab Discovera was strangely placed. He had initially assumed that the Redgar Forbidden Lands were almost dormant. Some spots were active while the volcano itself was dead and frozen over. He was wrong, however, very wrong. The volcano was active and Lab Discovera was placed right on top of the crater. Sorta, the main facility was put right above it while the rest of the lab surrounded the crater. Strange bridges and tunnels went from the surrounding labs to the center one causing the whole place to look more like an evil lair than a giant laboratory complex. Fitting, but like everything else, terribly designed. It looked so impractical. How such a design got approved was a mystery he wanted to know.

But there was another mystery he wanted to solve. A mystery that took higher priority than finding whoever built Lab Discovera.

What were those ice-like crystals that covered the peak?

The gigantic, opaque crystals looked like icebergs made of blue ice, yet they were on a volcano. A volcano with no snow whatsoever. These crystals had to be some kind of natural formation then, or some rogue experiment. He wouldn't put it past the scientists here to do something like this, but it made more sense for it to be natural. The crystals surrounded the lab but didn't touch it. They clearly planned around them. It should also be noted that the only section of the peak that wasn't covered with them was the area he was currently flying up. The area that had a massive lava flow. Something was definitely off here.

It didn't help that the crystal added to the villain lair vibe of the place. They were imposing, dark, and if he wasn't a big fan of shiny things, he'd consider them creepy too. It was a vague description, sure, but there really wasn't that much to say about them. They were simply a mystery he couldn't figure out at the moment. Or, a mystery he needed to figure out eventually. If this was a rogue experiment, he would appreciate having the research for his... business ventures. Having a large number of large gem apples didn't sound like a terrible idea. And if he somehow failed at recreating gem apples, then he'd be left with a huge quantity of crystal he could easily sell on the market. He could make some serious bank with these crystals. After all, who didn't love big mysterious crystals that may or may not be... Possessed.

If the lab was cursed, then the crystals were probably cursed too, weren't they? They might even be the reason for the lab being cursed to begin with. Wait... What if they were the reason that the Ancients here left? What if the crystals had a distinct hatred towards Halcandrans, and more importantly, him? It was a possibility and he wasn't going to deny it. Still, people love buying 'possessed' things even if it comes to bite in them in the ass later. He could take advantage of it and hire people to take care of the manufacturing while he watches the money rolling in from the Lor. It's not like anyone would stop him. He was, like his titles implied or outright stated, a menace. If someone stopped him from taking over the spooky and haunted crystal market, he'd simply have to give them a stern reminder of who they were dealing with.

He may not be Susie, but he has his own tricks for dealing with the business world.

Speaking of Susie, he didn't see her here.

He had finally reached the entrance, and by extension, the lobby of the labs. It wasn't that difficult, but if he wasn't about to keel over before, he was definitely going to now. Peeking through the large and somewhat broken windows however, only revealed Marx who was currently laying down on the stupidly spacious lobby desk in the middle of the lobby. Strange, but nothing too worrying he supposed. Everyone else was probably taking their sweet time. He limped over to the doors of the entrance and took a deep breath in.

Hopefully, Marx wasn't possessed, because if he was, Magolor would instantly pass out.

Chapter Text

His entrance was noisy. With the shards of glass strewn all over over the floor with NOVA knows what else, it was difficult to not make noise. Marx was alerted instantly, sitting up in a near instant. Likely from his presence and not the noise. The jester was a very light sleeper and typically people's magical auras woke him up before any noise could. So now they were staring at each other, half a lobby in between them.

"You look like shit."

"Mhm."

"Did you get attacked?"

"Do you count a possibly possessed elevator dropping me into the abyss an 'attack'?"

Marx squinted, "'Possessed elevator."

Magolor nodded, "Technically possessed laboratory, but yes, possessed elevator."

"..."

"…"

"Uh-huh."

"Mhm."

Marx squinted further, "And it dropped you into the abyss..?"

"It sent me to another lab," Magolor began to slowly trudge forward. "a lab beneath this one."

"What?"

"It was dusty, Marx, very dusty." He paused, "And tired, I'm very tired."

Marx gave him an incredulous stare before twisting his face into something bleak, "You didn't get a concussion or something, did you? I don't wanna carry you back to your ship."

"Too bad, anyway," Magolor reached into his cape and pulled out the strange book he found in the depths. With the lights in the lobby, the book didn't seem nearly as mysterious as it did when he found it. Then again, the core issue wasn't its appearance, it was its energy. "Got something for you to translate, several things actually."

The jester recoiled slightly at his words, "Huh, you want me to work right now?"

"You did agree you would translate anything we found."

"That was 5 hours ago! I've changed my mind!" He shouted.

5 hours? That meant it was currently 2 PM… That elevator must've given him quite the blow to the head.

"And besides," Marx continues, "You're the only one whose come back so far."

Strange. "Susie and Elfilin haven't come back?"

"Do ya see them around?"

Magolor let his gaze wander around the lobby for a moment. The place looked just like it did 5 hours ago, empty and desolate. 

Marx changed his position on the desk and swung his legs around to the front. He was glaring at him now. "Plus, you look like you're about to keel over. I should be keeping an eye on you," Suddenly, he smiled and leaned foward, "Yes, I'll keep a good eye on you. I'm super good at taking care you after all."

A glare was his only response.

"Hehe, right Mags? Riiiight?"

"At least you're not cursed or something," Magolor grumbled before stopping a good half a meter away from Marx. "Just translate this."

The mage presented the strange book he found to Marx, who stared at it before tilting his head. His earlier smile fading into a grimace. "It looks… ugly. You really want me to translate this?"

"...Please?"

Marx paused for a moment before he gave Magolor a pensive look. The book was snatched from his hands and being scanned by red and blue eyes before he could say anything else. Marx paused again though, scrunching up his face more with every second. He almost looked… Disturbed?

"Is it-"

"Where the fuck did you find this?" Marx cut him off with an accompanying stare resembling the one he gave him when he spoke about the elevator.

"The underground lab. The one the elevator dropped me into."

"Do you know what this is?" Marx closed the book. He was acting serious now. That was not a good sign.

"It's a book?"

"It's a diary."

"Alright?"

"Of the Witch of Orange."

"…What? Who?"

Marx's expression falls horrifically at that. Magolor just gives him an empty stare because his brain can't come up with anything. He tries to search through his memories because the name is distantly familiar, but nothing is there. The only thing he finds is a headache and when he starts to sway a bit, Marx grabs his arm to stabilize him.

"I'll translate it, just go sit down and don't die."

Magolor did as he requested and decided to sit down on the right staircase. There were two bordering the lobby desk, but the right seemed just the slightest bit cleaner than the left. Sitting down wasn't too difficult either, but with his size, he had to treat the staircase like a flat surface, so he was forced to lay down on it. That wasn't a bad thing really, but it was definitely uncomfortable. His brain didn't care about the slight pain of the steps digging into his back however and had started to haze over. Sleep would no doubt hit him the moment he closed his eyes. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't completely object to the idea of sleeping. It sounded kind of nice actually. Falling asleep and then waking up back on the Lor like nothing had ever happened.

But Marx's words from before rang in brain. 'Witch of Orange'. It did sound like something he had heard once, but at the same time, it sounded incorrect. The diary thing didn't even make sense if the writer was a witch. Why would a witch visit a lab and then conveniently leave their diary out in the lobby? It was… it was… nonsense. Stupid, even. But he was technically a wizard, and he was in a lab. His theories from before would also be confirmed. Still, 'Witch of Orange' sounded silly. Did she control the color orange? Did she control oranges? Was she orange?

A clutter of noises to the side reminded him that the words came from Marx. The same Marx who was known to lie whenever it benefitted or was convenient for him (Unlike himself, who only lied when necessary, very big difference.). Why he'd lie now wasn't the kind of question Magolor could process at the moment, but it didn't matter. Magolor still needed to crush his stupid crystal wings in for this whole.. situation. He started it, he was going to pay for it, and the lie could serve as the perfect excuse or possibly an extension to the list of things he needed to be done in for. It was useful… and tiring.

To think he, the Great Magolor, would be in such a condition. To think that it was worsened by merely thinking about punching his annoying companion(?). This was a horrible turn of events for sure, but the lull of sleep was truly becoming an irresistible desire. All he needed to do was to close his eyes and he'd be off to the land of dreams for the next couple of days. There would be nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing but his own thoughts. The world would disappear and then reappear at the end like nothing ever happened because nothing really did happen. It was almost… Perfect.

Nice.. and perfect.

Very nice…

Mmm…

…

ZZz…

ZZZZzz…

"GAAAAAAAAAAAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"HUh-"

"The hell!?"

Before Magolor could even open his eyes as a reaction, an explosion that sounded way too close for his comfort rang out. He winced and almost fell asleep yet again, but he forced himself awake. There was no way he was sleeping through whatever was going on. The blurriness in his eyes did prevent him from analyzing the situation and his drowsy brain was not doing him any favors. It seemed like, despite the willpower he possessed, the claws of sleep still had a firm grip. Unfortunate, but there was an explosion and until he confirmed that the facility was not trying to kill him again, he was not going to go back to sleep. Drowsy brain be damned. Getting up however was a challenge he was not prepared and he quickly realized he could not move from his uncomfortable spot on the stairs. He did notice Marx scowling at him for.. some reason then vaulting over the lobby desk.

Saying the lobby was filled with dust would be an understatement. The more accurate description would be a dust storm with clouds of dust obscuring nearly everything that wasn't a good 2 meter radius. There was no reasonable way to explain the quantity either. The wall it took out must've had dust beyond comprehension. Magolor wouldn't be surprised if the walls were made of dust. It was that ridiculous. It was also all-consuming, as when Marx vaulted over the desk, he had disappeared into the sandy mist and out of Magolor's poor eyesight. This left sound as the only way for Magolor to know about the situation covered by the dust. Arguably, that wasn't too bad a handicap. Halcandrans had notoriously good ears and notoriously bad eyesight. This was merely a.. a…

"Susie!?" Marx's startled shout scares off what was likely another bout of sleep, but it forced Magolor's mind to stop for a moment.

An unfamiliar dry cough then rings out. "Clown!?"

There was no way that was the pristine proper Susie, right? The CEO of Haltmann Enterprises, coughing ? 

"For the last time, I'm not a fucking clown, bubblegum hair!" The sounds of dragging and scraping accompany that statement and Marx soon comes into view again with what indeed looks to be Susie.

A very disgruntled, in pain, disheveled Susie. A Susie so un-Susie, that Magolor struggled to recognize her for a second (Discounting his poor vision.). If it hadn't been for the pink hair that was still miraculously tied up, he might've not even realized it was her. Even her voice seemed to be completely different. Instead of the usual, cold and clinical business voice she had, there was a raspy, almost breathy voice that felt so weird , so utterly unnatural and unfitting that it made Magolor want to recoil in some strange form of disgust. It just wasn't Susie.

But then Susie looked at him and said, "What the hell is wrong with him ?" like she didn't have functioning eyes and she didn't just say 'hell'.

Marx took a couple of seconds to think before shrugging, "Freaky lab shit."

And Susie, who was now sitting on the floor against the lobby desk, nodded like that was an acceptable answer. Magolor couldn't bother to correct them though, he was too tired to speak coherently and he was not about to embarrass himself in front of Marx and Susie.

Marx decided to continue though, "Gonna assume you saw some freaky lab shit too?"

"If that's what do you want to call it," Susie coughed, "Sure, I did."

"Then spill."

Another cough, "I decided to go up a couple floors, but then I got lost."

Marx leaned against the desk as he stared Susie down, waiting for her to continue.

Susie, meanwhile, was staring at the floor.. or at nothing at all. Magolor couldn't quite tell; his eyes were growing hazier. "Then I hurt my ankle, so I sat down for a while. Don't know how much time passed but I eventually realized I was being watched."

"By who?"

"The freak who threw me in here." She snarled, another weird, un-Susie thing to do. Her face quickly returned to its neutral position to continue her story however, "But it never got close. I couldn't even see it. I just felt its presence and its eyes on me."

Marx shift a bit and hummed in consideration. He was likely trying to connect his situation with the elevator to Susie's. It made him realize that he probably should've told Marx that the possession stuff was speculation and not fact. That and there was most certainly no one down there in the deep parts of the lab with him. Magolor would've felt any presence immediately. There was one thing though, one thing that he didn't quite feel as much as he heard. The explosions, which he was certain that both Marx and Susie heard. 

"When the explosions rang out, what did you?" The jester's tone was serious like earlier when he was asking Magolor about the bizarre magic book diary. And it was an irregular occurrence that he could tolerate, but with Susie's oddness… Well, the tone felt more alien than it had in awhile.

"I got up and tried to return here. Unfortunately, I was lost and I spent ages walking in circles… Maybe." Susie groaned and shifted her legs in an instinctual way that was instantly punished if her wince after was any indication. She wasn't lying about her ankle (Or her legs? She did go through the walls. That'd have to leave some damage.) then. "I guess that… Thing took pity and began chasing me out."

Marx raised an eyebrow, "It made you take the right path back?"

"From the look of things, yes, until it got angry and threw me through the walls."

"Sounds more like it got tired of you going the wrong way but whatever, continue." He waved it off.

 Susie shook her head, "There is nothing to continue."

"Huh?" Marx's expression became one of confusion, "What the hell were you doin' there for 5 hours then?"

"5!?" Her eyes would never widen, but considering this was not the normal Susie, Magolor hesitatingly imagined it. It was starting to become difficult to follow along with the interrogation.

"Yeah, 5 hours."

"I-" Susie pauses, "I must've… drifted off for a moment then."

Marx's face is unreadable, but he moves again. He's now off the desk and with his arm crossed, probably. It seemed like a Marx-with-crossed-arms moment. He would be shocked if it wasn't, that is, if he had the energy to be shocked.

A silence then permeated the lobby. No one said anything for the next couple of seconds, minutes, or hours. He couldn't tell quite tell the time. The dust that had invaded the lobby had by now settled for the most part. It didn't feel as present as it used to in the air, but he still breathing it in for sure. His lungs would complain about this trip for the next couple of weeks to come. Breathing out didn't even feel like breathing out. It simply blended in with everything else.

Then there was noise in form of the Susie trying to move again but failing to do so. Marx then said something and they began to talk again and their voices were ever so unintelligible. It must've included their usual insults and remarks though because they got loud and ended their conversation rather quickly. It was surprisingly normal. More noise and a blur moving to the right indicated Marx had once again vaulted over the desk. He couldn't confirm it of course, despite the dust settling, the blurriness in his eyes forced him to close them. His ears also seemed to be slacking as he seemingly separated from the world.

Magolor was drifting back into sleep then. The sleep he so wanted to have just a few moments ago was now something he was protesting. His willpower, however, was tired. Far too tired to fight against the urge to sleep and rest. Rest and dream.

Rest…

And dream…

Mhm…

…

Zzz…

ZZZzzz…

ZZZzzz…

…

"HEY!"

Mmm...

It was official.

This was the worst place to exist.

Magolor groaned. His sleep had been once more interrupted by what was sounding like an argument. Although, everything felt different now. The immediate urge to rest and the need to keep his eyes close was… Not quite gone, but not as pressuring as it was before. He was still tired, but he could stand to be awake now. That meant he had to have at least slept a good while right? But how long had that 'while' been? The air still felt heavy with dust and Susie and Marx were still… Wait, there was something new. No, there was someone new. And with that realization came a wave of humming that plagued the back of his head. Did Elfilin return? But Elfilin didn't have such a strong force around him before. His powerful rift magic had a strangely meek aura that fluctuated often but never reached this level of strength. It was overpowering.

Something had to be wrong then. Real wrong.

Magolor's eyes opened with deceptive ease and in front of him stood the three who had foolishly taken this trip with him. They were blurred and barely recognizable, but they were there, arguing. Focusing on the argument at hand was also a bit too easy for his liking, but he supposed that his rest, however long it was, had given quite a bit of energy. Enough to understand that this argument was getting quite heated on Marx's and Elfilin's side of things. Although Elfilin…

"I cannot let you read this diary under any circumstances!"

He sounded off.

"I've already told you, like, 4 times, I already read it you stupid piece of-"

"We know," Susie got in between them as Marx was starting to become a bit too close to Elfilin for comfort, but she then threw Elfilin a stern look. "But you have yet to state any substantial reason as to why."

Elfilin was definitely not Elfilin. Or not the same Elfilin he met this morning and agreed to go on a trip to hell with. With the way his face was not only scrunched up in a foreign way, but also in the way that his face itself looked different. His whole body seemed larger. Not larger by a lot, but just barely large enough to notice and question just what had changed. His ears too, seemed to have changed shape slightly. And his voice … Magolor wasn't sure how to describe the unsettlingness his voice brought him. It was not what he had heard hours prior but he couldn't figure out why. It was simply different and that was the worst part. It was like someone turned a million little knobs in Elfilin. Changing the way he spoke so that you could tell, but never know just what was different. It was almost the exact opposite of Susie's situation. Instead of being too different, it was too similar.

And if all of that wasn't enough, Elfilin didn't respond to the question. He stayed silent and stared.

"Did the freaky lab shit get you Elf?" Marx asked sarcastically, "Did it? Did iiiit?"

Susie grunts, standing and keeping Marx at bay was taking an obvious toll on her. "What makes the diary important enough to keep it away from us?"

"It's.. it's um… Important." Elfilin stuttered, "And Dangerous. Very Dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Dangerous my ass!" Marx retorted, succeeding in pushing Susie out of his way. "That diary is disgusting but it ain't gonna kill anyone."

"Wrong! It has… Formulas. Complex and deadly formulas!"

"How do you even know that!? You just took it out of my hands! You haven't even read it!"

Elfilin pauses, "I… Uh, sensed it?"

"..."

"A-anyway, you can't be trusted with this!" He squeezed the diary against his chest. "It's not yours."

"It's not yours either," Susie retorted, "Unless?"

In an almost terrifying fraction of time, Marx caught onto Susie's prompt and displayed an uncanny grin, "Is there something you want to tell the class, Elfiiieee~?"

Elfilin recoiled and his face flashed with fear. "No! I was just-"

"Being considerate? Protecting us? Trying to help?"

"I just recognized it and-"

"So you read it before us~?" Marx continued to press.

"No! No, no…"

"Nooo..?

"Can you all not right now?"

The three turned towards Magolor.

"Like, Elf has the diary book whatever, cool, interrogating him, cool, but why are we still here?" To emphasize his point, Magolor flailed his poor arms in the air. "We could've left-"

Marx sneered, "We were waiting on Elfilin and you, dumbass. That and I was translating something very important," He turned towards Elfilin again, "that I want back."

Magolor could only groan, "We can get the diary later and figure what's up with it and Elf."

"I won't allow-" Elfilin starts.

"You aren't fooling anyone."

"..."

"Much less us three." He continues, "You can keep the diary for now, but we will discuss it later."

Elfilin's grip on the diary tighten, his eyes drifted to the floor, and he paused. For a moment he did not move an inch. He was completely still and somewhere else, thinking. Until, after what must've been 30 seconds, he turns towards the entrance and nods.

Magolor subconsciously nodded in response and was about to speak before Marx huffed out in defeat.

"Fine! Fine. Fine, I wasn't even gonna continue translating that thing. Whatever you do with it ain't my problem anymore."

Susie, who had now returned to resting on the floor, raised her eyebrow. "You're giving up?"

"Eh?"

"You were really passionate about it just a moment ago." Magolor spoke.

"Yeah, well, I don't care about it anymore," Marx said as if it didn't contradict what he was doing minutes ago. "If that shit traumatizes some random ass kid then it's Elf's problem now, not mine."

"Traumatize?" He tilted his head.

Marx let out a humorless chuckle. "Be glad you can't read Ancient."

Well, that was a vague, non-informative, and threatening response. Was the diary really that bad? Was the diary.. cursed?

"Anyway, Elf, open the portal will ya?"

Susie frowned while Elfilin did as requested, "I can't walk right now."

"Too bad."

"Neither can I," Magolor groaned.

"And I said I wasn't gonna carry you."

Marx once again went over the lobby desk to grab what Magolor could only presume to be his translation notes before he started to walk towards the portal. Completely disregarding both of the very traumatized (Probably.), injured (Definitely.), and tired (Debatable.) individuals.

"So we're being abandoned?"

"Hmm…"

Susie scoffed, "Kirby will be incredibly disappointed in your inability to keep-"

"Tch," Marx whirled around to face them, " I'm not gonna help you any more than I need to 'cause Kirby will no doubt save your poor asses and I wanna go home before he starts buggin' me. Got it?"

"Wow, you would rather fight Kirby than deal with us more than you need to?"

"Uh, yes? He deserves it more anyway."

She tilted her head, "What do you mean 'he deserves it more'?"

"Simple. He never warned us of this freaky science occult mess, thus everything that has happened here is his fault."

Well, his logic wasn't wrong per say, but Magolor really needed to correct Marx about the curse stuff… Or maybe not? Elfilin was clearly not himself, so maybe there was some basis for all of his ridiculous theorizing… But all that was irrelevant at the current moment.

Marx continued, "It's not the first time this has happened either, so I just want to give him a little reminder when he tries to pin this all on me."

" Would he pin this all on you?" Asked Susie exasperatedly, "That sounds too out of left field for him."

"Uh," He paused, "Probably not, but he's gonna complain anyway so what difference does it make?"

She considers it for a moment before sighing and lying down. "Just make sure we get picked up."

"Yeah, yeah Bubblegum, will do." Marx almost takes another step before stopping, "Mags."

"Huh?"

"You're not getting these papers later."

"What?" After all the effort to get this diary to Marx… He wasn't going to find out what was in it?

"Trust me, it's not worth anything to you, or for me." Marx turned back towards the portal. "Actually, when you get back, I'll need you to burn them."

He could only glare in response.

"Anyway! See ya!" And Marx hopped through the portal.

Elfilin took a quick look at them before also, silently, going through the portal. Said portal closing right after, leaving both him and Susie stranded in Lab Discovera, on an abandoned, foreign planet.

It was awful really. He reached Marx and the rest but was still unable to reach his home. For now at least. Elfilin would likely return, but that still didn't change that he was still, somehow, stuck in Lab Discovera. This was absurd. This was stupid. If Kirby allowed it, he would obliterate this horrid planet with whatever he could find. Whether it was a giant laser cannon, another planet, or even the Standard's forces. Anything to get rid of this nightmare. But no, he couldn't destroy the planet. It had important knowledge, important technology, important everything, but above all else, it was under Kirby's protection and unfortunately, he was not Marx. He did not have a track record for being an infuriating midget and would thus get frying and sent to hell he should've entered years ago.

How in the world did Marx even get on these terms with Kirby in the first place!? And, now that he was thinking about it, wasn't Susie also buddy buddy with Kirby?

Seriously, why was it that she could conquer all the planets she wanted, but he was completely barred from doing so!? Her whole company was more threatening than him by lightyears. But nooooo, she gets to keep her multi-trillion-dollar empire while he gets several threats per week telling him to not get too ambitious.

He almost wanted to go back to sleep now. Susie was probably having the same thought as well if her slow breathing was any indication. How many times had he slept now though? Did falling unconscious from the elevator count as falling asleep? It technically made him more tired, but his eyes were closed…

And he was thinking about sleeping again… Fantastic. Great.

Magolor sighed.

This was definitely on his top 10 list of worst mistakes he's ever made, right next to 'trying to take over the universe' and 'eating some of Meta Knight's secret desserts as a joke'. 

Maybe after this, he'd finally go to that 'therapy' thing that Taranza always recommends. 

He probably needed it.

Chapter Text

"It's lost."

"What's lost?"

"The translations."

"…For?"

"The diary."

Magolor turned away from the control center of the Lor.

Marx was sitting on one of couches, head in his hands with the most depressive aura he'd ever seen surrounding the jester.

He squinted, "You lost the notes for the diary, the diary that we're probably never ever going to see again because Elfilin has 'gone missing' according to-"

"Shut up," Marx growled, "I don't wanna hear your stupid comments right now."

Oh, so he was angry about it? How unsurprisingly surprising.

It had been about five days since they left hell itself (Lab Discovera) and life had been.. not bad, but definitely negative. For the team of course, everyone else was having a swell time. Life could not be better for most of the Star Allies. Unfortunately, they were not part of that 'most'.

Magolor had felt both inconceivably tired and incredibly restless ever since the trip. He couldn't stay awake, nor go to sleep, and trying to work made him feel sick. A constant headache had appeared as well and if it got bad enough, it would force him to lay down and wait. Nothing made him feel better, and for some odd reason, Kirby was not helping him. He had texted Kirby to come to the Lor with the Doctor ability, but alas, no response.

Marx on the other hand was weirdly clingy and anxious. It was barely visible underneath his usual persona, but Marx never spent whole days in the Lor unless they were going somewhere. He also didn't bother Magolor as much as he normally did and that was suspicious, very suspicious. It all seemed like he was waiting for looking for something, so Magolor's first thought was that Marx was simply worried about the diary. However, Marx never seemed to avoid the diary in conversation unless it was directly about its contents. He would evade those questions with as much grace as a pigeon flying backwards. Sometimes, he wouldn't even answer.

Now, Magolor didn't know much about Susie, but she was apparently acting very cautious. Susie did not regularly come on his ship to annoy him, so unless they needed to strike a deal, work on some defunct robots, or help Kirby, they did not interact. Any information he knew on her was secondhand or from the group chats they were put into with any consideration.

And finally, Elfilin. He has gone missing, or so Kirby had said. But all three on them knew that had to be a lie or some sort of half-truth. If Elfilin really had gone missing, a search would've been organized, but nope. Hell, most of the Star allies didn't seem to realize Elfilin was gone. Nothing had been done to find Elfilin, and Kirby even seemed to imply that they shouldn't try to find him. It was clear to him at least, that Kirby was not happy with their trip, and hiding Elfilin away was in some sense a punishment.

It all made sense on paper, until he remembered that they never told Kirby about it. He didn't even know about Elfilin's strange condition in the labs. They only summarized a couple of things at Marx's request to keep everything under wraps. Magolor knew that it would likely not work against Kirby, but strangely, it did. Kirby never learned about the horrors of Lab Discovera.

And yet somehow, for some reason, he was covering for Elfilin.

It was all a bizarre mystery that doubled his headaches the more he thought about it. A mystery he couldn't solve on any front.

Marx let out a heavy sigh across the room. He has begun to pace back and forth, hands on his head as if he too had to deal with the relentless headaches this was causing Magolor.

Magolor had almost forgotten about his presence, but the jester's ever so often groans kept him aware. He was oh so tempted to sigh too, if only to mock Marx. After all, who was he to care about the notes when he wanted them burned in the first place? 

And actually, why did he never get the notes? Marx wanted all of the diary stuff gone and he said to Magolor that he wanted it burned by his magic specifically. So, did Marx simply choose to make a fire with his own bare hands? Did he use a fireplace like a normal person? Or…

"Ugh… If someone like Gooey finds it-"

"Did you lose the notes the moment you teleported?"

Marx stopped his pacing and slowly turned towards Magolor.

"Well?"

"Uh…"

" Well? "

"Look!" Marx almost screeched, "I had them until I didn't! And when we got you back, I was gonna give them to you, but lo and behold they were not where I left them-"

"Uh huh."

"And I thought maybe it was somewhere in the ship, but your ship is for some reason bigger than Dedede's castle! "

"It's actually not-"

"But it wasn't here! And by the time I realized I might've lost it outside, it had already been two days!"

"It took you that long to-"

" Stop interrupting me! " Marx's wings spread out threateningly as he continued shouting, "I searched and searched… Outside, inside, but nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing! The notes are gone! I lost them.

Marx then laid defeatedly on one of his couches, letting out a loud groan of frustration in the process. His hands slammed against his face and covered his eyes. Magolor finally let out a sigh and sluggishly walked over to the jester. He let's a moment pass before speaking, "Have you even seen the weather recently?"

A hand shifts to reveal a blue eye.

"It's been windy, extremely windy actually."

The eye squints.

"And have you forgotten where the Lor is stationed?"

The eye looks to the side as if to think.

"We're near Orange Ocean."

Marx's hands slowly fall from his face, "You're suggesting they fell in the ocean."

Magolor huffed, "Well, it'd be convenient."

"Elfilin didn't even open the portal near the sea."

"You can't confirm you didn't lose them after making your way here."

" You can't confirm I didn't immediately lose them when I got here."

"And?"

"And what?" Marx sneered.

"Why does it matter? You lost the notes at some point in time. Kirby probably knows about them. They're probably destroyed and illegible, ocean or not…" Magolor drifted off and squinted at him, "What are you so anxious about?"

"I'm not anxious."

"Don't even."

Marx quickly sat up on the couch, "I am not anxious."

"Even if you're not anxious, you care about those notes far too much." Magolor gritted out.

"That's because they are my translation notes, and I'd prefer-"

"That's not it," He interrupted.

"You are not interrogating me right now!"

Magolor shut his eyes close. His headache was beginning to pound insufferably. "I'm not interrogating you; I'm just asking about why-"

"And I don't want to answer!" Marx practically screeched.

"Then why are you moping around on my ship?"

"'Cause I was looking for the fucking notes!"

"Well, the notes are gone !"

"I know!"

"So why are you still here!?"

"That's…"

The tension is thicker than it should be. The world feels heavier than it should be. Magolor wants to lie down, but he waits in silence as Marx shifts his eyes in a million directions. He only answers after a minute has passed, and his answer is a mumble.

Magolor almost sighs again before Marx does it for him.

"The contents… were violent." He says, "It started like some kind of weird ranty science journal, but then…"

Magolor raises a brow in pained silence.

"Then there was just gore."

"Gore?"

Marx glared at a distant wall, "She loved placing organs where they weren't supposed to be, and she loved writing it down in stupid amounts of detail."

Ah, that explained and created more questions than it should've. "So, you translated these.. gore segments."

"Only 'cause I thought they led to something at the time, but the more I read, well, the more I realized that she was just crazy. Like, really fuckin' crazy."

Magolor closed his eyes. "You've been panicking over gore you could've erased."

"I wrote in pen!"

"You could've destroyed it a billion ways Marx, a trillion ways actually, but you didn't, and now we have to live with your consequences." And he was about to leave it at that until he heard Marx's teeth grind uncomfortably close to his face. He wisely did not open his eyes and shifted his focus to remedying what he said. "Consequences which we have already seen."

"Consequences we will continue to see-"

"No, no." Magolor continued with his eyes closed. "The papers are long gone now, nobody but us two know about their contents."

"What about Kirby and Elfilin?" Marx somehow made himself sound even closer to his face.

"Elfilin doesn't seem to care for the notes. He wanted the book, he got the book. Kirby on the other hand, hasn't even shown up to the Lor to reprimand us-"

" Yet."

"Yet. Although it seriously is unlikely he will," Magolor futilely tried to wave Marx away, "We clearly aren't in any state to listen to him."

Neither moved as the Lor became quiet, save for their breathing and the mechanical whirs of the ship.

Marx sighed, "You're.. right, but…"

"But nothing." Magolor swayed a bit, "I think we just need a moment."

"A moment?"

"Some peace and quiet, just to relax."

He didn't need to open his eyes to feel the wince Marx made on his face at that. "Rejecting work? Did you hit your head again?"

"No, no I haven't," He swayed again, "What's with that anyway? I thought it was you who was getting brain damage every other day?"

"Maybe, but ever since you got your head clonked in a spooky lab world… Well uh, you haven't been yourself."

His face scrunched up, "Weren't you nonsensically stressing out over papers a minute ago?"

"Yeah, yeah, but you're right." Slowly, Magolor was pushed onto the couch by Marx. "We're going crazy, and we need a distraction."

"Mhm, going crazy is one way to put it." Magolor paused, "Actually, can you get me those books about the witches?"

"The color witches?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to jog my memory before passing out," He opened his eyes to Marx's deadpan face,"...Or maybe not."

Marx scoffed, "Damn right you're not reading anything, just go to sleep. The color witch books are still in my house anyway, so I'm gonna go get those while you just stay right there and rest, ok?"

He took a deep breath before settling into his couch, "Yup, and if you never return?"

"Assume that Kirby got me and that you're next on the list."

"Ok." Magolor closed his eyes, but not without realizing the strange calm that had fallen over them. He wanted to say something about it, but sleep was once again dragging his frail body down.

Something was ever so slightly wrong though. Maybe it was the lower-than-normal lighting of the room, or the strange comfort of the couch which he was certain used to be far more firm. Perhaps, it was the emptiness in his chest that he only noticed for a second before the click clack of Marx's boots distracted him.

By the time Marx left, Magolor was sound asleep.

--------------

Meanwhile, on a close hill overlooking the Lor Starcutter, was a lithe figure obscured only by tall trees blocking the moon's terribly bright light. They were glaring at the ship, analyzing its external carvings, thinking about which parts would be the most satisfying to tear off first. They stood no chance of acting out in such a way with Kirby and his merry band of criminals, but one could dream.

They did not stop their mental teardown of the ship when Marx appeared. The man, as wary and paranoid as he could be, was not a threat in this state. He had been.. pacified, more or less. He was still scanning the nearby foliage for anything out of place, but it was highly unlikely he'd do anything other than exchange some choice words if he found something. They were also located in a strategic location above and behind him. As powerful as a NOVA blessed being could be, Marx was still an organic creature with a reaction time slower than theirs.

They internally scoffed. Kirby and his 'friends' always thought themselves far stronger than any other force in the universe, but they didn't know what that meant. To be stronger than anything the universe had to offer would mean being stronger than dragons, eldritch horrors, and gods.

They may have defeated the reanimated remnants of Void, but they were just that, remnants . Void Termina was a corpse with a stitched together soul. The old god of myth and legend had been the equivalent of dead for millions, perhaps billions of years, by now. Kirby little minions could never, ever, fight against an actual god. Why, not even they , a being born out of that chaotic mess of a dead god, could fight a god. They weren't even certain about fighting against a dragon. A young dragon alone could annihilate all of Popstar and its moons. Kirby might have a bizarre group of failed world conquers at his disposal, but as the old human saying went, they were always a bigger fish.

This was the reason they stole those fancy old pages from Marx in the first place.

From what they had gleaned, the forgotten world was an old ancient place. Ancient enough to have Ancient technology and magic all over it. Stealing one or two things from that world wasn't that big of a crime, and in their personal opinion, reminding that crew of misfits that there was something stronger always lurking wherever they went was a good way to spend time. It was easier than fighting and mildly more interesting than reading.

They paused their mental deconstruction and pulled out the pages in question. When they had grabbed them, they didn't pay attention to what they grabbed. They figured from the old appearance of the papers that they must've had something of grave importance written on them. Why else would Marx and Elfilin return in such a harried state? Now that they skimmed them, it was clear that these papers were merely scratch paper for some kind of transcription. A transcription of what seemed to be someone's trip down madness lane no less. 

A shame that failure of an exploration team didn't bring anything more of interest, but reading material was reading material.

So, the figure quietly retreated from the hill. As nice of a spot as it was, they preferred reading in a place far from ugly blue ships.