Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The door closed behind the bailiff, leaving the twelve jurors locked in their deliberation room. Tobacco smoke curled into the rafters from where one juror was clutching a cigarette. He stared at it suspiciously, and did not bring it to his lips.

Everyone blinked a few times, as if released from a trance, and started looking around the room in confusion.

A tall man in green armour stood up at the head of the table. According to his seat assignment, he was Juror One.

“Right. Ah. Well.” He said, a thick British accent on his words, “I don’t know about you, but personally, I’m of the opinion that the death penalty is immoral, archaic nonsense.”

“Agreed.” A tall green cyborg said, folding his arms. Per his seat assignment, Juror Seven. This was met with various nods around the table.

“Plus, like…I don’t know, guys,” A pale juror with flaming hair and red eyes said, standing up and tapping his notebook, “I was writing notes down the whole time, and like…the kid’s what, twelve? And he took down a six-foot man with a kitchen knife? Yeah, I don’t think so.” He- Juror Six- shrugged and sat back down in his chair.

“This entire case is shaky as hell.” Juror Five agreed, picking at the threads of his red sweater and fluffing his wings irately.

“So, I suppose…all in favour of guilty, please say aye.” The man in green armour said.

Nobody raised their hand.

“Right. All in favour of not guilty?”

Twelve hands went up all around the table.

“Right. Well, I suppose that settles it. I’ll summon the bailiff.” Juror One said, walking towards the door and pressing the intercom button.

Silence filled the room as everyone waited. Juror Eight shifted in his chair, the knives under his moss hoodie clinking as he did so. He stared at the cigarette in his hand, turning it over. Utterly transfixed by it.  

“Guys,” he said finally, “I don’t smoke.”

There was a pause as everyone turned to stare at the offending smoke.

“You don’t?” asked Juror Four, a muscular man with horns, wings, and a black t-shirt. He folded his arms, “But haven’t you been sucking those things back the whole trial?”

“No. I mean. I think? But I don’t- I haven’t smoked a day in my life before today.” Eight said, clutching his head, “Does- Like, where are we? Does anyone know how we got here?”

“Well, we walked out of the courtroom and went in here and they closed the door behind us.” Juror three stammered. He was a tall, thin man in a black suit, and he fiddled with his moustache nervously.

All further conversation was halted by the door swinging open, revealing the surprised face of the Bailiff.

“So soon?” he asked, and Juror One nodded.

“Yes. We believe the defendant to be Not Guilty.” He said firmly.

Silence.

The bailiff barked out a harsh laugh, and shook his head.

“No, I don’t think you do. Deliberate the case some more. There’s a right answer, and that’s not it.” He said mockingly, “Come back to me when you see sense.”

And with that, he slammed the door and locked it.

Everyone stared at the door.

“Uh. Okay. Well. That’s. That’s certainly how due process works.” Juror Four said, scratching his head between his black and yellow horns, “Um, before we continue, I gotta ask…who the hell are you people?”

Another moment of silence.

“I…I don’t remember.” Juror Two said. He reached up and adjusted his grey flat cap, blinking wide eyes in confusion. His accent was hard to place- something Eastern European, “I know I know you all though? That’s so…This is weird. I think you were all my friends, before this.”

“Okay. Good. So let’s recap: We’re locked in here until we sentence a twelve year old to death by electric chair for a crime he very obviously didn’t commit, and none of us remember our own names or anyone else’s. The case is shaky as hell, and again, we’re locked in this room. Have I got this right?” Juror Five fluffed up his feathers angrily, and everyone nodded.

“This is going to get confusing. You all have a seat assignment, right?” Juror One said, and everyone nodded, “Alright, we’ll just use those numbers. Everyone good with that?”

Another round of nods.

“Okay, so, our options are either condemn an innocent kid to die or find some other way out of here. By the way, I just want to point out, that the Jury’s verdict is supposed to be final, so whatever’s going on here, it’s not legal.” Juror Eleven said, adjusting his glasses.

“Yeah, we kinda knew that, mate…” Juror Five snarked.

“Alright, well, we are a jury. So let’s put it to a vote. All in favour of frying the kid, say aye!” Juror Six said, standing up with fire in his red eyes.

Nobody said a word. Juror Eight dropped his cigarette in Seven’s glass of water, prompting an angry hiss.

“Right. All in favour of getting the hell out of here?”

“AYE!” Everyone roared, and Juror Six nodded at Juror One.

“Alright, well, that’s pretty conclusive. Let’s blow this joint.” He said, standing up and heading towards the door.

Immediately, several other jurors stood up and started inspecting the room. Seven scraped his metal arm over the window glass, tapping on it a few times. It didn’t sound right- the bustling city scene beyond was alright, but the echoing wasn’t…normal. He growled and put his fist through the pane, glass yielding to cybernetic strength. His punch went clean through- not a shock- but the real surprise came when his metal knuckles plowed into a holographic display.

The city beyond the window fuzzed as he waved his hand around inside it, and he nodded, pulling back.

“Outside’s fake. The windows are a hologram.” He confirmed, and this was met with several groans.

“Good. Great.” Juror Ten said, rolling her rotted eyes as she started looking underneath chairs for…well, she wasn’t really sure. “Eleven, you want to stop pouring over those papers and give me a hand?”

Juror Eleven shook his head, letting his shaggy hair with green tips shake, “No, I’m just…There’s gotta be something here. Does anyone else remember anything about the trial?”

“Uh, yeah. It happened and some kid almost burst into tears on the stand.” Six snapped. And then he snapped something else, namely his fingers. “Come on, I remember I could, like, start fires or something…”

“Whoa! Dude, maybe don’t do that in a room made entirely of wood?” Juror Four replied, and several other jurors jerked their heads up in a panic.

“Okay, well, ignoring our imminent deaths in a conflagration of Six’s making, the point I was trying to get at was do any of you have any personal sense-memories of the trial?”

Silence. Juror Nine, the fellow with a black hoodie, a beard, and a fish tail, dropped the chair he was about to smash into the door and turned to look along with everyone else.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” One asked suspiciously.

“I mean jiggling your leg. Watching the defense attorney pick his nose while someone was giving a statement. Watching the judge drink some water. Drinking some water yourself. Recess for lunch. You know? Your own, personal, sense-memories of the trial? Because I can’t remember a damn thing like that.”

Silence again.

“…Okay, so let’s add “memory manipulation to make us think we attended a trial when we very clearly didn’t” to the list, right?” Five said, his wings fluffing up even more.

“Mmm. I think we can add something else,” Two said, adjusting his hat, “I remember I had a name. I remember a lot of things. Fishy-guy is my Princess! I know that-“

“Whoa, whoa, what?!” Nine protested, “Dude, really? I mean- Aw, crap. You’re right. Great.”

“-but I can’t remember. Any of your names. Or my own name. So if I can remember what I am, but not who I am, then…what else have they taken?” Two finished, and everyone stared again.

“I am once again asking for permission to burn this place to the ground.” Six said politely.

Four rolled his demonic slit eyes and stomped over to the fire extinguisher on the wall. He pulled it off with a yank and stomped back over to the door.

“Alright, hit it.” He said, and Six grinned.

Chapter Text

“Wait!” One shouted, holding up a hand and cutting Six off before he could blast the door with a torrent of flame.

Everyone turned to look at One, and Six folded his arms.

“What?”

“Do we actually have a plan before we go charging out there? We don’t have any idea what this place is, or where anything is. We don’t even know where it is we came from. What exactly do you propose after you burn that door down?”

Then, Twelve, who had been fairly quiet up until that point, stuck his hand up and stepped forwards. He had purple eyes, a mop of messy blonde hair, and a low-slung brown cardigan with the top few buttons undone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device, holding it up.

“Would this help?” he asked, “I just found this in my pocket. I think I’ve used it before, but I’m not quite sure for what…”

He switched it on after a moment’s fumbling- and his face fell.

Twelve stared at the screen despondently.

[UNABLE TO CONNECT…OUTSIDE OF SPACETIME. PLEASE RETURN TO PLAYABLE AREA.]

His face fell, and he tapped a few buttons, trying to make the stubborn little rectangle work. The only thing on it that responded was a small clock in the top corner, which ticked over as a minute passed.

“…I was gonna say we could maybe use these things to talk to each other, but I don’t think that’s going to work.” he said with a sigh.

“Work for what? What was your plan?” Four said, leaning forward. He remembered Twelve- spending time together, joking, laughing, building strange things in the depths of buildings. He remembered that, being close friends, and yet he couldn’t remember…anything specific. Twelve’s labcoat that he liked to wear? Sure. Twelve’s name, his skills, the name of the sharp object he kept hidden in his broom closet? Nope.

Twelve cleared his throat.

“We have no idea how big this place is, where anything is, or even where home is. We should probably split up to try and cover some more ground.” he said, “but if this thing doesn’t work, then…I don’t know how we’ll meet back up again after.”

There was a fumbling through pockets as the other jurors scrambled for their devices- Seven just tapped a button on the side of his prosthetic arm. A screen slid up, showing off a keypad and a display.

And all of them displayed similar text. Two and Seven’s communicators weren’t set to display English text, but it all amounted to the same thing.

[UNABLE TO CONNECT…OUTSIDE OF SPACETIME. PLEASE RETURN TO PLAYABLE AREA.]

“We could use the clock?” Nine suggested, “We all have a clock. Everyone goes out, and we all meet back here after an amount of time? Everyone goes one direction, and if someone doesn’t come back, we all go down whichever path they took?”

One sighed.

“That’s a terrible plan.”

“Well, what else have we got? We don’t even know who we are, let alone where we are! We need information. More than anything else, we need to get a lay of the land.” Nine protested, his tail thrashing angrily. One sighed.

“Fine, but nobody’s going alone, got that?” He said sharply, and Two nodded.

“I’ll go with Princess!” he said eagerly.

“Twelve? Four? You’re with me.” Six said.

“Seven? With me?” Eight asked, gesturing between them with a mossy rumble.

“Alright, I guess we’re splitting up, then.” One said with a sigh, “I’d like it to be known that this is a terrible idea.”

“Well, it’s the best we’ve got.” Nine said, “Everyone, meet back here in an hour? That sound good?”

This was met with a round of nods from everyone.

“Alright, cool.”

One sighed.

“Alright. Six, would you like to get the door?” he asked, and Six grinned and pulled his fingerless gloves off.

“With pleasure.” He said, stepping forwards.

Six took a step back and unleashed a torrent of flame from his palms directly at the door. The air filled with a mournful whistling sound, something that made Seven hiss in fright; something about that noise rattled everyone, familiar memories of baking heat and red bricks and that desolate noise.

The door burst into flames almost instantly, and Six stepped forwards and put his boot through it. The heat-weakened timbers yielded easily, and a few more kicks were enough to have the door handle falling inwards, slipping out of its latch and crashing to the floor. Six stepped back, and Four took his place, aiming the fire extinguisher and hosing everything down with cooling white foam.

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Eleven looked up, scratching his beard, and pointed at the small white circle stuck to the ceiling.

“Not to keep picking holes in what’s an obvious forgery, but that smoke alarm is worse than useless.” He said with a sigh.

“Tell us something we don’t already know,” Six growled, “Okay, so, I guess we just…get out of here?”

“And meet back in an hour!” Nine said emphatically, “Anyone doesn’t show up within five minutes, we send out a search party. Got that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, can I interest anyone in a knife? I got a few spares…”  Eight offered, rummaging under his mossy hoodie and pulling one out.

“I’ll take one.” Eleven said, stepping forward and gratefully taking it.

“I don’t think I need it. I’ll go with you.” One said.

“I’ll take one,” three said, fiddling with one of his cufflinks as he stepped forwards. Eight handed him a knife handle-first, and Three took it nervously, turning it over in his hands.

“Alright, anyone else? Any takers? I need a few for my own use, so there’s one left.” Eight said.

“I don’t need it, Bubbles.” Two said, and Eight locked up.

“Bubbles?”

“Bubbles. I call you Bubbles. I think?” Two frowned, “I called you all lots of special names. Princess, Bubbles, and…and…uh…”

He turned to look at One, his face falling slightly.

 “I know you had a name. I don’t…I don’t remember what it is.”

A moment of silence passed, and Eight took a deep breath and squared up his shoulders.

“Alright, well. I wanna find out what’s keeping us from remembering things. So we’re gonna go do that. Seven? You good with that?”

Seven nodded, closing up his screen and stepping towards the door.

“Meet back here in an hour!”  Nine yelled, grabbing Two by the hand and pulling him towards the door.

From that angle, One got a good, long look at the slit in the back of Two’s shirt. Stretching from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, he caught a glimpse of a pitch-black slit behind it- a wound, sunk into his friend’s flesh, barely visible for an instant before being covered again by the shifting fabric of his t-shirt.

Nine and Two stepped into the hallway, and One followed them a second later.

In contrast to the wood-panelled room with its holographic windows and plastic ashtrays, the corridors were tight, enclosed things, like a square metal esophagus threatening to swallow anyone that walked down them. Wire-enclosed lights ran down the ceiling, spaced too far apart to possibly provide enough illumination. Dingy pipes and gauges filled the halls, needles occasionally flicking up ominously. Some were painted bright mauve, with alien lettering spread across their lengths in repeating patterns- a language nobody present could read.

The tunnels fanned out into four separate branches, spreading away at an angle from their little door. It was a strange layout, something that didn’t seem human. Two shifted uncomfortably, reaching up and fiddling with his hat as he took it all in.

A distant cry echoed down the leftmost path, and Two gestured down it.

“Let’s go.” He said, and Nine nodded, sparing a glance at his communicator.

“One hour. One hour and we’re back. Got it?”

“I got it, Princess.”

One watched them leave, making note of where they were going, and nodded.

Time to wrangle the rest of these fools and get this show on the road.

Assuming this plan worked. Which it was almost certain not to.

He sighed to himself.

They were so screwed.

Chapter Text

Two’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, a thunderous clatter of footsteps on embossed metal. The floor was shoddily constructed from bent steel plates, held down by thin screws and strapped to the pipes underneath them. There were no windows, and the only light came from horrid sodium vapour lamps, lighting everything in a foul orange glow.

Two watched another gauge on the wall tick up ominously, and he swallowed.

“So…here’s a question for you.” Nine said, speaking up as they walked, “Why do you call me princess?”

“Because you’re my princess.” Two responded automatically, “Because you’re my perfect princess, and everyone needs to know.”

Nine folded his arms.

“Yeah, but like, why? That’s such a weirdly specific nickname. How come you remember that, but not my actual name? Or even your name? What the hell happened to us?”

Two shook his head. He stopped walking, then, and looked at Nine sadly.

“I…I don’t know, Princess.” He said finally, “I remember…we were friends. We live together…in the same place, I think. A town? A pretty town?”

“You built me an octopus. Somehow.” Nine said with a sigh, “I don’t…man, I don’t remember how you did that. Just that you did.”

They both stopped and stared at each other.

“I mean, look. I know what I am, right? Half-man, half-sturgeon. I’m a hybrid, right? Because you don’t forget what you hatched as, obviously.” Nine thrashed his tail irately, “But my own damn name? The name of my home, my friends? How I got here? I’m just a number. All we’ve got is a number. And that’s…I hate that. I hate it.” He paused to take a breath, and looked at his friend.

Two was staring at his hands, and he glanced over his shoulder. A pair of disgusting, slimy shapes emerged from the slit in his friend’s back with a hideous squelch- a long, thin spur, two arms like the wings of a pterosaur. Stretched between them was a black membrane, coated with foul slime.

“I think there’s a lot of me in here.” Two said, “I’m…a lot of me. I remember…I remember how big I am. Dead and alive, all at once. And it feels like…”

Two growled, clutching at his head. It felt like his memories were locked inside of a safe in the back of his mind, and no matter how much he pounded against it, the door stubbornly refused to open up. And added to that was a different sort of twisting terror- he could feel…

There was so much of him, from what little he could remember. His true form was vast, vaster than vast, and he could still feel it. But faintly, barely- a thin cable stretched and stretched across a distance that scared even him. He felt small and weak, a fraction of himself lost and cut off from the truth.

He swallowed and met Nine’s eyes.

“They did something to me. I feel…small.” He said lamely, and Nine nodded.

“Yeah. Look, we’ll just…we’ll figure this out. Okay?”

Two smiled weakly.

“I hope so.” He said softly, and gestured for Nine to follow him. He reeled his wings back into the slit with a hideous squelch, letting the drips of ooze sink into the steel below them. They continued to walk in silence for another few moments, before Nine spoke up again.

“That kid…” he started, “That kid. They didn’t want to let him off. They dragged us here, gave us a headful of fake memories of the trial plus a bunch of fake documents, and when we decided the case was shaky as hell, they told us no. What the hell? Why even have us?”

Two shook his head.

“I don’t understand why they wanted him dead.” He said, waving a hand around pointlessly, “I mean, you’d think- he’s just a boy! A little boy like that? And the only option is the electric chair? What kind of sick place is this?”

Nine nodded.

“Whatever’s happening here, we’re getting that kid out. I don’t care what it takes. He shouldn’t be here. This place is…wrong.”

Two nodded, and they kept walking.

“That yelling earlier…that did sound like him. Do we know the kid’s name?” Nine asked, and Two shook his head.

“They didn’t think it was important, I guess.” Two hissed. As his face darkened, something squelched- a fat black tendril, the width of a grown man’s arm, slithered out of the hole in his back. A vicious white fang sprouted at its tip and it flicked at the air for a moment, before curling back into the body.

Nine stared at that, opened his mouth, and closed it again.

“What- uh- what the hell was that, exactly?” He asked nervously, and Two waved a hand.

“I said I was bigger on the inside. It’s hard to remember how big…” Two sighed, and they kept walking.

Another shrill cry echoed down the hallway, and Two and Nine hesitated for a fraction of a second before they started sprinting.

Sheet steel clattered underfoot in a thunderous cacophony, and they both sprinted full-tilt towards the noise. A single light flickered overhead, illuminating more and more of the creepy tunnels- the tunnel bent away as they ran, nearly slamming into the walls.

Around the next bend, they could see some kind of distant, glowing light, shining out of a side path. Someone was standing in front of it, in a guard’s uniform; Two nodded at Nine, and they both balled their fists.

“I think- ha- the kid’s-” Nine panted, and Two nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

The guard turned to look at them, an expression of shock on their face-

Nine tackled the Guard to the ground with a flying leap, sending both of them sprawling across the floor. But instead of rattling the sheet metal, the guard clanked and slammed into the ground far harder than Nine would have expected. The handcuffs on their belt rattled as they hit the earth, something that didn’t escape Two’s gaze.

Their hat went tumbling off, and for a fraction of a second-

“The Bailiff?” Two echoed, eyes going even wider as he stared down.

The…Guard… had an identical face to the man who’d chided them in the deliberation room. They struggled a bit, but it was clear they weren’t nearly as strong as Nine. Both men stared down at him.

“He could have just come here afterwards?” Nine suggested weakly.

“And changed his pants and shirt?” Two countered, gesturing.

“Let me go! Get back to your deliberation room! This is a breach of jury sequestration!” They protested, struggling, and Nine shook his head.

“Where’s the kid?” he snapped, “You know. The one you’re gonna force us to fry?”

“The Defendant is in lockup!” the Guard protested, “Unhand me! I’ll have to call security!”

Nine glanced down at the handcuffs and grunted. Two was already diving for the handcuffs, and he leaned forward, trying to put them on…while Nine was still straddling their erstwhile captive.

“OW! Two, dude, don’t punch me in the-“

“Nipple?” Two giggled, and Nine scowled.

“Dude, can we put a pin in that until this guy’s cuffed?” He snapped.

Two sighed dramatically, fumbling between the two bodies until with a few clicks, the guard was secured.

Nine straightened up, looking down at the prone form of the guard. They’d gone very, very quiet, and he looked up and met Two’s eyes.

“That…was entirely too easy.” Nine said quietly, “I- to be honest, I really don’t like how easy that was.”

“Yeah. No, yeah. I don’t remember much, but I think…This prison is giving me the heebie-jeebies.” Two said with a few frantic nods.

They both turned to face the hallway the Guard had been standing in front of. There was no door. No locks, no bars, no obstructions of any kind. Just smooth metal walls, and at the end, a bright light, glowing like a star.

And a soft noise, echoing up the corridor and rattling off the metal walls. A shuddering noise, almost imperceptible-

-quiet crying.

Two and Nine shared a look that lasted a fraction of a second and took off running down the tunnel.

Rows of empty cells flashed by them as they ran, cells without doors or beds or toilets. Empty cages without so much as a drain in the floor. Nothing to sit on, not even a light to shine down on the prisoner. Nine glanced at one as he ran, unease settling in his guts like he’d swallowed a stone.

And then, at the very end, the light grew brighter and brighter, and they pulled up to a stop right in front of the final cell, right at the end of the hallway.

It was empty of all furnishings, all features, everything, just like the other cells. A bare space, three walls and a collection of bars. And on the other side of it…

The child glowed. Glowed like the sun, illuminating the space around them with blinding white light. Two took a step back, feeling a deep instinctual revulsion he couldn’t explain beginning to boil up in his guts.

Nine stepped forward, swallowing down his own unease. Children didn’t typically glow like that. Actually, children weren’t supposed to ever glow like that. The kid looked about eleven or twelve, hunched in front of the bars with their back turned, sobbing into their knees. Soft weeping, no loud sounds, no attempt to raise their voice. They were dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, sized to fit a kid; instead of a sequence of numbers on the back, there was instead a selection of equations.

Nine swallowed and crouched down. Okay, so the kid was…some kind of…angel hybrid. Sure. He was a sturgeon hybrid. Took all kinds, right? That…would explain the glow. Okay, cool. So, he’d just…like…

“Hey,” Nine said softly, “Hey, it’s okay. Look, we’re here to get you out, alright? Can you just turn around for me? We’re friends, I promise.”

The kid- the Defendant- slowly lifted their head, turning it.

Nine’s stomach dropped.

Okay, so, point one, they didn’t have a face. It was just a blinding wall of white light, which mercifully dimmed as the seconds ticked by. Nine lowered his hands away from his eyes, squinting against the painful glow as it dimmed down.

A faint sound behind him caught his attention-

He whipped around to see Two, leaning against a wall and dry-heaving against it, a whole-body shake that finished in some desperate coughing and gasping.

Oh, good. Great, actually. So now this kid was making his friend…sick?

Nine had to stamp down on a strong urge to just book it.

But. They wanted to fry the kid. Glowy face or not, that…wasn’t okay. Fry the kid on the back of a shitty pile of contrived evidence, in defiance of the Jury’s decision that they be set free.

So Nine took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and started mentally chanting “angel hybrid, angel hybrid, angel hybrid” to himself.

The Defendant slowly turned around, tilting their head.

“It’s okay. We’re here to get you out.” Nine repeated, and they…they…

They didn’t have a face. Nine couldn’t tell anything about them, about their expression, about-

And then they spoke.

“Ekman transport refers to the movement of seawater from depths as wind pushes surface waters away. Water is drawn up from the depths in a spiralling fashion to replace the displaced water, driven by this wind action. This is a not-insignificant contributor to nutrient cycling in the ocean and helps to mix more stratified waters, however it is not the main driving factor of-“

Nine blinked in rapid succession, holding up a hand to cut the Defendant off. The kid spoke in a voice that sounded about forty, without any perceptible change to the glowing on the face. And instead of any hellos or anything else, they just got- that?

“What- what are you?” Two said, grunting a little as he swallowed another gag, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Interesting. Entropy is the process by which all matter in your universe moves towards its lowest energy state. All things will eventually wind down to a state where there is nothing more than disparate photons racing through an empty abyss for all eternity. You’d know about that wouldn’t you?”

Two stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the glowing face and the now-much-more relaxed posture of the Defendant.

Nine cleared his throat.

“Uh,” he said, “I- what- what was that?”

“I just. I want to talk. So badly. All the words burning up inside my [ ƍəɣʊ] and then they want to spill out. But then I let them spill and everyone gets mad and they yell and scream. And I made them mad with my talking.”

Nine swallowed, opening his mouth and waiting for a reply to come out. Nothing did.

Two stepped forwards.

“So…what happened? Why are you here?” he asked.

The Defendant thought about it for a moment, tilting their head downwards, and then looking back up.

“I made a mistake.”

Chapter Text

“I am sick of not having a name.” Twelve announced as they walked.

Four and Six turned to look at him, though they didn’t stop walking.

“So, what, you want to just…make one up?” Six said, “I guess we could do that. Beats the hell out of going by our Juror numbers.”

“I’d rather just figure out what’s going on here and focus on getting our memories back wholesale.” Four said with a sigh. He gave his leathery wings a flap, and looked down at the black staining on his hands, “I’m pretty sure if we need to, I can just…intimidate whoever’s causing this.”

“You? You couldn’t…oh wait, no, you could intimidate a fly. Nevermind, I’m having a moment.” Six said, shaking his head, “No, but seriously. I don’t wanna be that guy, but what if…like what if our brain-scrambling never gets unscrambled?”

Four and Twelve stopped dead in their tracks.

“Don’t even SAY that!” Twelve said, burying his head in his hands, “Oh, god, I don’t even want to think about that. I want my name back! I want YOUR name back!”

“I want to go home.” Four said miserably.

“I do too. But like. It’s entirely possible. We don’t even know how we got here, or how they scrambled our brains like this. It’s…like what if it’s just gone forever?” Six said.

Twelve and Four turned to stare at Six.

“Don’t. Don’t even start. That’s. That’s enough bellyaching for my tastes. We’ll be fine. We’ll find something. We’ll fix this. Like this- that door! See that door? Let’s go in that door.” Twelve said desperately, pointing at a door a dozen paces down their winding hallway.

“I mean, sure. We could. We could do that.” Six said with a shrug.

They walked towards it, footsteps rattling off the metal. Four flicked his tail irritably- the air of this place was cold against his wings, and he really didn’t like the vibes in the air. Six, for his part, just cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, preparing to burn down another door.

They came to a stop in front of it, a tall and imposing entrance with a blank sheet of steel. No handle or anything, just a glowing pad off to the side. And the emphasis really was on the glowing- no buttons, no screen, just a ball of light shimmering out of the wall.

Twelve waved at the door, then slapped a hand against it.

“Hello? Helloooooo!” He yelled, “you want to open? I say…OPEN! Open Says-a-me!”

Six kicked the door once, his boot slamming into the steel with a thunderous bang and rattling the frame of it.

It was Four who ambled over to the pad and started poking at it.

“Guys, I don’t think it opens that way. I think it opens like…uh, like this…? Maybe?” he leaned in, and prodded at the panel a few times.

Four’s finger sank into the glowing light, and he shuddered, pulling it out again. He looked alright- turning his finger over to examine it from all sides, making damn sure it wasn’t burnt off or otherwise damaged.

Once Four was satisfied that he was alright, he leaned back in to peer at the ball of light-

Something clicked.

Four straightened back up.

“Did I do something?” he asked, confused.

“Don’t know. Do that again? Maybe it likes you.” Six said, “I hope it opens…”

Four shrugged and prodded at the display again. He leaned in-

The door clunked.

“Okay, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop. I think it’s working!”  

Four grinned and leaned in, continuing to poke the weird glowing ball.

The clunks and clanks increased in frequency as Four waggled his finger inside the ball of light, until finally-

With a thunderous bang and a hiss, the door unlatched and slid open sideways.

The three of them looked up at the shadowy room beyond.

Inside was a single pedestal, crowned with a single glowing ball just like the door pad. No screens, no monitors, just the glowing ball and stacks and stacks of strange metal shapes. The whole room floated, as if in the void- there was only the floor, the darkened shapes, and speckled star-studded walls stretching off into infinity all around them.

“So we just…pokificate the glowy thing and then results?” Six said, “I mean, this place is probably important. No sense locking a door if you’re just gonna keep last week’s bagel in it…”

He stepped up to the orb.

With a shrug, Six shoved his hand into the ball.

And he screamed in agony.

“So,” Five said, giving his wings a shuffle, “You.”

“Me. What about me?” Three echoed, listening to his own footsteps rattling off the grating, “There’s nothing special about me.”

“Yeah, except there is.” Five said, “I don’t get it. I keep trying to think back to before- to what our lives were like- and it’s just you, you, you. Always you. You and me. So who were we?”

“You’re my friend.” Three said gently, “Does it need to be anything else?”

“Not really. But the thing is,” Five said with a sigh, “I wish…I wish I could remember…more. I wish I remembered what it meant to be…us. I remember that we were. And that our friendship was…it was so much. I remember doing so much, being so much. So shouldn’t I at least remember your name?”

“Mate, I can’t even remember my own name, let alone yours. But…I think I get it.” Three shoved one hand in his pocket, and the other reached up to adjust his immaculately-tied red silk necktie. Five watched the action, giving his wings another irate shuffle as they continued to walk.

“There’s just. A whole life we’ve lived, all of us. And here we are in a tin can who knows how far from home, just…waiting to try to remember something. And it’s really starting to piss me off.” Five snapped, “I want to remember my name. I want to remember YOUR name. I want more than just snippets of what home was like, who these people I know I can trust actually are.”

“I’d settle for our names and getting back there, frankly,” Three said with a sigh. They rounded a corner, and the steel planking gave way to polished oak. He stopped and looked down at it, eyebrow going up.

As three lifted his head from the floor on up, he saw…the slow beginnings of an ornate court hallway. First the polished oak floors, and then, with each step farther and farther down the tunnel, the walls gradually filled in with plaster. Overhead sodium lamps gave way to warm incandescents behind decorative shades screwed into the walls. Crown mouldings appeared, and with each step the unfinished hallway became more and more complete.

Three held up a hand.

“Mate. Where are we?” he asked, and Five opened his mouth.

And closed it again.

“I. Ah. Well.” Five said, “I’m. I’m not sure, Three.”

They both stopped walking before a pair of huge oak doors.

Five shrugged, stomped up to them, and flung them both wide open, stepping into the room.

Three was one step behind.

And both of them froze the instant they entered the room.

It was a vast auditorium, carved from a black abyss speckled with stars. The floors in this floating space were ancient, weathered wood, and the middle of the huge circular chamber was laid up with all the furniture that would be needed for the trial they’d attended. Tables and chairs, benches for the gallery, the Judge’s podium.

Every single seat on that ground floor was occupied by identical copies of the Bailiff.

Three’s mouth fell open, and he started to shake.

His eyes tracked slowly up, up, up, away from the bizarre floating floor in the abyss and up to the rows and rows of coliseum seating that climbed up and up and up.

And every seat held a blindingly bright ball of shifting, changing, shuddering white plasma.

All the balls turned to face the doors.

All the Bailiffs turned to face them too.

“Ah. Uh. Hi!” Five said frantically, “We were. We were just going!”

“Wa-Washroom! Where’s the washroom!?” Three blurted.

“The, uh, the toilet! The toilet in our room! Is blocked! I really need the loo!”

“So sorry this clearly isn’t-“

“We’ll just-“

Three and Five sprinted out of the room, both screaming in a panic.

Chapter Text

Two and Nine shared a look of incredulity, and Two shook his head.

“Whatever your mistake was, it’s not enough. Nothing’s enough. Nobody deserves to die for a little mistake. It’s not right.” He said emphatically, grabbing at the bars and giving them a small shove.

It was more of a test than anything; Two just wanted to check to see how much strength he’d actually need to get them to bend enough that the Defendant could slip out. He grabbed the cold metal and jerked it, fully expecting to have to evert a thicket of his tendrils, or get some help from Nine-

Instead, the metal of the bar bent off true with barely a shove of his arm. It screeched as it deformed, and Two stared at it in shock. Just- bent like it was made of tinfoil, like ‘holding people in’ was a mere afterthought to whoever had designed these bars.

He turned around to see Nine with his jaw hanging open in abject shock. Nine lunged forwards and grabbed another bar next to the one Two had bent and gave it a mighty yank-

The soft metal damn near tore, just- ripped along the base, like it was made of crystalline paper instead of metal. Two and Nine shared at look, and then stared at the Defendant.

“Are you…are you supposed to do that?” the Defendant asked, a worried edge to their tone, “The Others asked you to do that?”

“Yeah, they- they sure frickin’ did.” Nine said, staring at the metal, “What the hell is this made of, tinfoil?”

“The metal of these bars is made of a lead amalgam due to its high molecular mass. The Others believed it to be the best facsimile of a human ‘incarceration place’ due to that fact. They asked me extensively about human incarceration practices! And I told them everything I knew, and…and then…”

The Defendant’s voice trailed off, and their head drooped down.

“And then they stuck you in here.” Nine finished, “Oh, kiddo…come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He offered a hand through the now-gaping hole in the bars, and Two took several steps back.

The Defendant reached up one of their hands, nervously, trembling. This close, Nine could see the structure of the kid’s body. The hands were in the shape of human hands, alright- aside from the fact that they had six fingers. Those six-fingered hands were made of a clear glasslike substance, crystalline and full of facets, inside which swirled a mixture of the same glowing plasma that shone out of their face. The light of their body glowed out of every gap and seam in their clothing, from where they’d failed to do up the fly of their too-baggy pink denims, to where their plaid shirt (inside-out, natch) was only buttoned at the top and the bottom.

In essence, it was like someone had tried to describe human clothing habits to a Martian down a very bad phone line with the aid of a Mandarin-to-Greek phrasebook. And nothing else.

Nine reached out and grabbed the alien hand, helping the kid to their feet with a gentle tug. This close, he could feel the unnatural warmth radiating off their smooth glassy skin- if the Defendant was human, he’d have said the kid was running a high fever. They weren’t, thank god, and he could only conclude that the warmth was some effect of being made entirely of light or plasma or…whatever that was.

The Defendant staggered to their feet unsteadily, wobbling slightly. They didn’t glance down at their legs or anything, just- sucked in a breath? Some sort of whooshing noise, and then started walking forwards, carefully clambering through the hole in the bars.

As soon as they were on the other side, they stopped and started to tremble.

“The Others. Said this was okay. Right? We’re supposed to do this, right?” They asked nervously.

“Of course they did. They’d want this to happen!” Two said, sharing a look with Nine. Obviously the other Hermits would want them to get the Kid out. What…?

“Okay. Okay. I just… I do not want…I…”

The Defendant straightened up. For a twelve year old, they were pretty damn tall- nearly six foot at full height, leaving them eye-to-glow with Two and an inch taller than Nine.

They started giggling then, high pitched and childish, their body shaking a little.

“Oh, of course this is okay! Imagine, imagine being told what to do, and then not doing it! Oh, of course. Sorry, I- I just- I get- I make mistakes, and then, they get mad, and then- I check and I check, do I have all my things, do I have, do I have my parts, and then I forget, and then- so- anyway, I’m sorry. I’m so-“

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, we’re gonna get you out of here.” Nine said, giving them another gentle tug, “Nobody’s mad. You don’t need to apologize for anything. Come with us, come on. We’ll get you back to our friends, okay?”

“Yeah! And then, you can…uh, you can- you…”

Two’s voice trailed off, and he blinked a few times in rapid succession. He took a step and stumbled a little, tripping over his own feet.

A frantic stagger, and then he caught himself, good as new.

“And, uh, and then you’ll be all nice and safe!” Two finished, “Sorry, I- had a moment. Sometimes I just- make a little- uh, stumble. Anyway! Let’s get you back to the others.”

And then the Defendant froze.

“Others?” they echoed, “No, I don’t- I don’t want to go back to the Others. I- I-“

And they started to shake, then- but, Nine noted with some dismay, they didn’t let go of his hand.

“They- they want- me? They want me there? I don’t…I have to. I…let’s…I’m sorry for my outburst. I’m sorry. Let’s go. Please, I’m sorry- I’m-“

“Shhh, shhhhh. It’s okay. We’re not taking you- We’re taking you to our friends. I promise it’s safe.” Two said, sharing a worried look with Nine, who just nodded.

The Defendant slowly stopped shaking, and just nodded their head once or twice. It was an overdone movement, far past the point a normal human would have nodded.

“Oh. Okay. Let’s. Let’s go then. Please?”

Nine nodded, giving the Defendant’s hand a gentle tug.

“Come on, then. This way.”

They set off down the hall, three sets of footsteps echoing off the walls.

They barely cleared the end of the hallway before the Defendant was speaking again, bouncing a little on the balls of their feet.

“Wait! You’re both humans, right? Can you tell me all about, about how you do executions in humanworld? Because here, we, we…I…well, we…there’s a black hole, and it just…sucks you away…humans don’t do that, right? Humans are nicer, right? I think humans…I think humans just throw you into a sun. That’s a lot nicer. Right?” The Defendant was shaking, and Nine shushed them as they rounded the corner and started walking back towards the room.

“Okay, shush. No more of that. Nobody’s getting executed today, you got me? Why don’t you tell me about something nicer? Anything you want to talk about? Do you…know anything about…fish?”

“Fish? Fish like the Sarcopterygii- that’s the lobe-finned fishes- evolved into the tetrapods on humanworld. They’re distinguished by four limbs, and are often divided into three clades- the amphibians, the diapsids, and the synapsids.  Synapsids- like humans- are distinguished by their temporal fenestra, which is a hole in the skull behind the “orbits” which is where the “eyes” are kept. (I have some theories as to what eyes are for, I think they might be for perceiving the distribution of liquids on Earth- humans need to ingest water, so it would make sense for them to be able to distinguish between dihydrogen monoxide and things like methanol or ethanol!)  Uh. But, humans have a heavily modified fenestra, actually, and it's called the zygomatic arch!”

The Defendant bounced on the balls of their feet again, letting go of Nine’s hand eagerly.

“Oh! And fish live in the ocean, right? So, in the human universe, water isn’t like it is here, where it just stays as a gas. There’s places in the human universe where it’s very cold, so water- by the way I forgot to mention, we call it dihydrogen monoxide, but English and 普通话 have a special name just for it! And I think Español does too but I’m not done learning that one yet. Isn’t that so wonderful?- but, uh, water. So in the human universe it can get cold enough for water to form into big bodies of…well, water! Where it’s all liquid! This is because the human universe doesn’t have Us around to make things…Soupy. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Two stumbled a little, tripping over his own feet. He regained balance a second later, nodding his head a few times.

“Yeah! Yeah yeah yeah. but I don’t think- eyes are for looking, you see? You look at things, and then you see them.”

“They take in light, you know?” Nine said gently, relieved that the kid was rambling about something other than their scheduled execution, “They take in light. ‘Cause light bounces off stuff, and then it goes into your eye, and you’re like, “Oh, that’s a thing over there. I can see it. Look, it’s green!” And it’s pretty great, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Green…” The Defendant said reverently, “What is…Green?”

Two and Nine both stopped dead.

“Uh. I mean. It’s…” Nine started, scratching behind his fins.

“It’s the colour of booshes and grass,” Two said with a smile, “The colour of life. Of summer days, laying in the fields, feeling the insects on your arms. Green is the best colour, besides all the other colours. I love green things.”

“Green…is life.” The Defendant said, “So what is ocean? What…colour…is ocean?”

“The Ocean’s blue.” Nine said slowly, “It’s…water between your fingers, your toes. The crisp cold taste down your throat. And you paddle deeper, the blue’s all you get from the sun overhead. It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s safe, it’s home.”

“Blue…is home.” The Defendant repeated, “I…I would love to touch a boosh. Or an ocean….”

“Yeah. Blue’s home.” Nine said, and his brow furrowed.

“Two. Quick question, how the hell do we know what an ocean or a bush actually is? ‘Cause I can’t even remember my own name, but I can remember what it feels like to swim in the deeps…”

“Oh. That.” The Defendant groaned, “Well. I think they probably have a field installed that suppresses specific memories in lower-temperature species. I think it’s to try to steer the Jury towards the result the Others want. That’s really boring though. I think the Jury is much more interesting! Can I talk about Juries?”

“Uh, hold on, hold on. You can absolutely tell me all about juries in just a sec, okay?” Nine said, fighting an ice chill in his chest, “Listen, I know it’s really boring, but can you maybe tell me a little more about that field? Is there any way we could turn it off?”

“Oh. Well, I think so? There’s usually a computer someplace that’ll be controlling it. If you brought me there, I could probably turn it off. I mean, it’s not that hard- you just emit the right radio frequency at it. Really boring. Anyway, can I- do you want to hear about Juries?”

“Abshhhlout’ly.” Two said, shaking his head a little. “I mean, uh, yea! Tell, tell ush, all about juriesh, would you?”

Nine whipped his head around to stare at Two. He looked fine, but a couple of those words were coming out…

…slurred.

“Oh, okay! So Juries are a common feature of the ‘justice system’ in some places on Humanworld! Humans don’t have Others to Feel with them, obviously. Which…they’re really lucky. But anyway! When a human does a bad thing, or upsets their human Others, the Other Humans make a Court that comes to decide if the bad thing was really all that bad or not. And what happens is a bunch of “Lawyers” will show evidence that has been gathered. Evidence! They have to prove it, right? And they all talk it out. The Jury watches the whole thing and when the evidence has all been presented they go to a little room and discuss if the Defendant is guilty or not! And then, sometimes, they decide what the punishment should be! Sometimes, they even make the accusers- that’s the Prosecution- give the Defendant an apology and some…material, for causing them so much trouble. I think they give them hydrogen. I’d give them lots of hydrogen.”

Nine nodded, still keeping a careful eye on Two.

They were almost back at the deliberation room, and he took a deep breath.

“Okay. That’s really great, and I’m so sorry to interrupt that, but we’re coming to the room with all of our friends, alright? So don’t be surprised at that, alright?”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.” The Defendant said, and Two nodded.

“Yeah, the Hermitshhh are really…really…uh…”

Two blinked a couple times, and tripped again, nearly toppling onto his face.

“Dude!” Nine yelled, “Are you okay?”

“I…I think…I think I’m…fffine.” Two said, “I think…my head just…hurtsh…a bit…”

Nine stared at him.

“Okay. Sure. Both of you, get in there. Two? Sit down.”

“Yessshir….” Two mumbled, stumbling through the wooden door.

Nine swallowed.

What the hell was a Hermit?

Chapter Text

Two stumbled into the deliberation room, and Nine was getting even more worried with every step.

“I think…I need….a sssssheat…” Two slurred, wobbling unsteadily as he stumbled towards a chair, “Shomthingsh….wrongggggg….”

One jerked his head up from the table where he and Eleven had been pouring over papers, and rushed over.

“Two!” he shouted, “Two, what’s happening?! What’s wrong?”

“Interesting. I suspect some aspect of his physiology is incompatible with this place.” The Defendant said eagerly, “It may be causing physical symptoms? I was unaware that- wait.”

One jerked his head up to stare at the Defendant, jaw agape. Eleven and Ten did the same, and Nine started to shift from foot to foot uncomfortably.

He stepped forward.

“Hey, Two?” he said quietly, taking in the fact that one side of his face was sagging, “Can you do me a favour? Can you lift both of your arms over your head for me?”

Two lifted his right arm.

“I said both arms. Two, lift both your arms.”

“I am lifting my armsh,” Two mumbled, eyes blinking, “Somethingsh…wrong…Sheshwammm….”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” The Defendant said, wringing their hands, “The Others don’t make mistakes! We can’t have made a mistake! Jurors can’t be harmed, it’s not allowed!”

“Well it’s happening now!” One snapped, “Who the hell are you?!”

“One. Can it. This is our Defendant, they’re a kid, and they made some stupid pointless mistake. These people, these others? Yeah. Abusive pieces of crap, the lot of them. So they’re with us, and we’re getting them out of here, got it?” Nine snapped.

Two rolled his eyes over to One and blinked a few times. He reached up with his good arm, cradling One’s chin- to everyone’s abject shock.

“You,” Two managed to choke out, “I- I remember you. You are…you are my…Sheshwammy.”

One’s eyes went wide.

Something about that word sent a few stray neurons sparking in his head, reconnecting pathways long since dormant. Not many- but a few. Just a few.

He remembered that name. He remembered this man. He remembered a blood-soaked altar, he remembered- he remembered-

And then Two sagged again.

“Thish plashe,” he slurred, “wann….go…home…”

“Two, I need you to stay with us- Someone- someone-“ Nine was looking around frantically, “We don’t have a medical facility, we don’t- we don’t- Oh god-“

And then Two slid sideways off his chair and smacked into the ground.

And he stopped breathing.

“What’s happened? Has his shell been deactivated? That’s not supposed to happen. Your Others need to switch it back on!” the Defendant protested, an edge of panic in their voice, “What’s happening!?”

“…He’s dead.” Nine said flatly, swallowing down a lump of tears, “He’s…he’s dead.”

To his horror, Two’s body exploded. It burst like a firework, every mote of glowing black dust drifting up and vanishing into the air. There wasn’t even a body to mourn- just- he was just-

He was just gone.

Nine felt tears start to prick at the corners of his vision.

And then something odd happened.

The little device he had strapped to his forearm buzzed, then, and he glanced at it, eyes misted with tears he refused to shed.

There was a message on the screen.

<Keralis1 disconnected from their host body.>

Nine’s jaw dropped as an avalanche of memories, memories related to that NAME, slammed into him, like boulders the size of houses tumbling down a mountainside. Memories of games played with that man, memories of jokes and laughter, he remembered-

-games where Keralis cheated, he remembered a bunker, he remembered a moon, he remembered a base floating in the sky, he remembered jokes, oh so many jokes, he remembered that name, that name, he remembered the hole in his friend’s back, he REMEMBERED-

“KERALIS!” Nine screamed, at the exact same time as One and Ten and Eleven, eyes wide and locked on his communicator.

“Keralis…Keralis…his name- his name is KERALIS!” One shouted, “Oh my god. Oh my god. How could I forget him? How could I forget anything about him?”

“Where did he go?!” The Defendant said urgently, “What’s happening? I don’t understand?”

“…Keralis is dead.” Nine said after a pause, “Keralis…is dead.”

Silence.

And the Defendant started to shake.

“Jurors can’t die.” They whispered, “Jurors aren’t supposed to…to DIE. Jurors aren’t supposed to be- to be harmed at all! The Others can’t have made a mistake, they can’t have- they- they-“

“Well,” Nine said, wiping a tear out of his eye, “Your ‘Others’ did screw up. And they screwed up big-time. My best friend is dead. And I’m not following him.”

Nine clenched his fist and looked up at the other gathered faces.

“And we’re not following him.”

The Defendant stumbled over to a chair and sat down, posture hunched and defeated.

“I don’t get it.” They said softly, “I don’t- I don’t understand. The Others, they’re not supposed to allow Jurors to die. They never- they should have- Jury Selection is a process! They pick only ones who can live here! I don’t understand how they could have made a mistake. The Others never make mistakes, never!”

Silence.

One crouched down in front of the Defendant, staring into the glowing light they had instead of a face.

“Hey,” One said softly, “I just want you to think about something for me, okay? I want you to consider something. If your Others screwed up so badly that they killed my best friend…how many other mistakes have they made? Especially mistakes with you?”

The Defendant went rigid. Ramrod-stiff. Nine heard their joints creaking, and he stepped forwards.

“We need your help.” Nine said flatly, “Your Others are a bunch of- are- they deserve nothing but the worst. I want out, and we’re taking you with us. Are you on board with that?”

The Defendant nodded, slowly.

Then, the door swung open, and everyone turned to look.

Just then, the door swung open, and in staggered Six, clutching his hand. Behind him, Twelve and Four, each with a hand on his shoulders.

“So we found something,” Six grunted, “And- and uh-“

Six glanced at his communicator, “And- we lost…”

Six swallowed.

“How could I have forgot his name?” he mumbled, “How could I have forgotten any of your names? He was- he was a Big Eye. Him and Eight. We’re friends. We’re all friends. I don’t…”

Four and Twelve both looked despondent, and Six swallowed.

“Yeah.” Nine said, “You’re not alone in that. I…yeah.”  

“What did you find?” The Defendant interrupted, eyes wide, “You- are you hurt as well? What happened?”

“We found this door,” Four said, “And it, just, kinda opened? And there was this glowing ball of light, and Six, this dummy, goes and puts his hand in it-“

“It really hurt,” Six whimpered, “like- like getting shocked with a million volts of lightning, and-“

“A ball of electricity?” the Defendant repeated, “A ball of- oh! You must have found a control terminal. Why did you interface with it using a limb? That’s dumb. And wrong. Everyone knows you sing to terminals to interface with them!”

Silence.

“Sure thing.” Nine said, “Listen, if we get you to that terminal…can you sing to it for us?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s really boring, but- I mean, yes. If it-“

And then the Defendant hung their head.

“If it means we don’t have to lose any more jurors, then yes. I will.”

Nine nodded.

Six stumbled over to a chair and sat down, and then he shivered.

“Hey,” he said, “Just out of curiosity, is anyone else getting cold? It’s really cold in here.”

“No,” One said, brow furrowed in concern, “It’s- it’s a perfectly fine temperature.”

Nine flicked his tail irately, a twisting knot of anxiety blooming in his breast. Six? Getting cold?

That couldn’t be good.

The door swung open again-

And Nine gasped.

Eight staggered into the room, carrying the full weight of Seven on top of himself. He was grunting and straining with the effort, as Seven blinked sluggishly, staring around the room.

“Something’s…wrong.” Seven gasped, “something’s really wrong. I don’t…feel so good.”

Nine’s eyes drifted down to Seven’s chest, and specifically the metal plate embedded in it. The metal plate that housed his onboard power plant, and more specifically, his heartlight- the red light that flashed whenever Seven’s artificial pacemaker beat. It was just a little aesthetic touch, and he could adjust the brightness depending on his mood…or depending on how he was feeling.

Right now, the light was pulsing weakly, dimly, a beat once every…once every…

…oh that was way too slow.

“Come on, Seven. Come on, buddy. You’ll be fine! You got this! YOU CAN’T DIE ON ME!” Eight shouted, his eyes full of tears, “I JUST LOST KERALIS, I AIN’T LOSING YOU,”

Seven just grunted as he staggered towards the table.

“Oh, no.” the Defendant whispered, “Oh, no.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Nine said grimly.