Archive of Our Own

He wasn't entirely certain why he was in the museum. Well, he sort of knew, he'd been bored and had heard interesting things about it (including that it contained exhibits about him , and inaccuracies thereof), and in his expert opinion, being bored should be classified as a crime. 

So he'd engineered a way to ensure the museum would be empty, it would do no good to have people recognize him after all, even if things hadn't… quite gone to plan in that respect. And he did feel guilty about that, he didn't really like having blood on his hands (not these days), but he'd find a way to fix it later. Somehow.

Now here he stood, with a copy of the museum’s Audio Tour Guide in his hands, staring down at it with a slight look of confusion on his face. It was… not quite sapient, or sentient for that matter, but it felt like it was on the brink of it. He'd encountered AI before, and they'd all been nothing but dumb machines, but this one was different. Just… undeveloped . Like mammals in their parent's wombs. It had something there, enough to be aware of his and it's own situation, but not quite all the way there. And it thought it was going to malfunction and should be disposed of?

Mmmh. It didn't matter to him, he wasn't here to focus on (an admittedly intriguing) AI. He wanted to see the exhibits. But with no way to dispose of it, it seemed they were stuck together. Okay, he could just set it down and walk away, but that also seemed boring, and a way to lose good information about all the stuff here. So he did what the guide recommended, he wandered.

(Though he did resent the ‘fleshy idiot’ remark. Also you were the one panicking, Guide. He had nothing to be afraid of.)

The first exhibit was as fascinating as he’d hoped: the woman and the lantern. He didn't need such things of course, his people lived far, far longer than humans. Even with at least a few centuries of this realm’s years under his belt he was still barely out of adolescence as far as his own was concerned.

But it was still interesting , and he had to admit the guide had quite a pleasant voice, perfect for its job.

The story of the woman… Wandering for years, with no home. He related to that. Maybe he had a ‘home’, but it wasn't one he wanted, one he felt at home in. There was nowhere he belonged, not really. Not for lack of wanting…

But perhaps Tabitha had it worse, she wasn’t even acknowledged by most people. At least he had control .

They moved on, the next exhibit was an example event shelter, and… okay, he did feel a little more guilty, knowing how many people had probably been stuffed in these for months as the guide spoke. (Seriously, who planned only a single bathroom for a maximum capacity of fifty people? What psycho was the architect of this madness?) He'd meant to visit the museum immediately after triggering the lockdown, but had got caught up in something else, and… Well, time had gotten away from him and here he was, three months later.

Hey, at least he'd shown up eventually okay? Better than some people he knew would have done. 

He internalized the sigh at his own thoughts and redirected his focus onto the guide. It was such a fascinating little thing, the excitement it showed as it spoke, almost with reverence, and the concern it had for the patrons and staff stuck in the shelters.

The man smiled at that, it was a little cute in it's own way. Strange, to think of a computer as cute, but people also often thought that of animals too, so perhaps not so strange.

Also amusing that the museum thought their security measures could keep out someone like him.

The next exhibit was a funny little cauldron. A cauldron that absolutely reeked. This realm had all manner of things apparently, far more than he'd even run into while on his own journey. And here was another story about… not belonging. Or belonging? It was uncomfortable how much he related to this one, his own lack of direction weighing him down.

He’d spent so much time now, just wandering and trying to figure out what to do with himself, where to make himself a new home. If his mother had her way, he’d be back at home, the new ‘Queen’, and…

The man forced the thought out of his head. He didn’t want to think of that place, of the people and culture and the expectations…

At least this Amina woman had family who loved and respected her.

He hadn’t expected to feel envious of an exhibit. Well, of the woman it was about. He bit back the feeling and the frustration at his own situation, and smiled pleasantly down at the copy of the guide in his hand, instead. Hide your true emotions, he’d learned that cruel lesson very early on in life.

Then the guide finished the story, and another wave of emotion rolled over the man. It was unlikely something like this could help his find his path.

He walked them away from it, not wanting to let the horrid feelings linger, and they wandered toward ‘The Stables’. Would they throw him in there, if he became an exhibit? The idea was laughable, he was far too powerful for them to control. He was the one in control. It had to be that way, or he might lose his mind.

For the first time he wondered how the guide actually saw things, since it seemed to need him to move around for visibility. Interesting, there were no visible eyes on the device in his hands. And the blood in the stables was certainly concerning, was that more human lives on his hands?

Although he wasn’t anywhere near as concerned about the things on the loose in the Stables as the guide was, the man knew feigning worry was the best way to keep himself undercover.

At least the blood was easier to ignore on the way out.

Next was not exactly an exhibit, and Bull was… faintly interesting? But not as much as the actual exhibits. An immortal, kind bull. Faintly interesting. And not exactly his cup of tea. Maybe because he didn’t exactly get the soothing feeling from it, like the guide said people did. And no, he didn’t want to pet it, sorry.

It did beg the question of why these… ‘alternatural’ things kept finding their way to the museum. Like things and people were drawn here. Had he been drawn here?

The next exhibit, though? The guide’s delight to tell this story was enthralling enough, and the man was coming to find that he just liked listening to the AI describe everything. He was now endlessly grateful there had been no incinerators available, this would all have been so boring without it. Well, maybe not boring exactly, but not fun . His guide made it fun.

And the story was a good one, he had to agree with the guide’s feelings about it. The Man With The Voice liked the human realm so very, very much. They were so entertaining, even if not terribly bright. This ‘Jacques’ was exactly that. 

Silly Frenchman indeed.

Then the guide told him about the Sound, and the man began to wonder just how aware this guide truly was. It seemed to have some ability to retain memories, as its time with him (almost an hour now, really?) was nowhere near enough to have come up with a theory like this.

Maybe his assumption about it being like an unborn baby had been… a bit incorrect. He couldn’t equate the way being of flesh and blood matured to that of a digital being, and how foolish he had been to even try to do so in the first place.

The man liked the guide’s theory of a sentient sound, and he was starting to dislike that the guide wasn’t supposed to have ideas and opinions on things. Did it have more theories on things? He wanted quite badly to ask, but…

He couldn’t. His voice was a dead giveaway.

Although… he didn’t know how the guide saw The Man With The Voice. Perhaps he wouldn’t find a way to kick him out, or further lock down the facility, or…

No, it was too much a risk, he couldn’t chance it. Not until he got bored, or…

Or what?

The man let out a soft breath. There was no ‘or what’. Not for him.

For now he just wanted to let himself get lost in the exhibits in this museum, in their stories, and in the guide’s voice as it told them.

And he was starting to get annoyed by the guide’s ‘intro’, or more specifically in the museum’s insistence that ‘defective’ guides were to be disposed of. Maybe he just didn’t understand, he hadn’t encountered its defectiveness yet after all, but he was starting to get a feeling that humans were much, much more profoundly stupid than he had previously thought. And these people were in charge of a museum!

He pushed that building irritation back down as the guide began to talk about the fancy looking egg before them.

A dragon egg, huh? He’d seen dragons before. Not in this realm, sure, but in others.

The story seemed fanciful, but it indeed looked like a dragon’s egg, and it was clearly not a normal egg. He could feel something living in it, his power writhing around it like it did all living things (he could even affect the guide if he wanted, perhaps he already was in some minor way, though it wasn’t intentional. He couldn’t help what he was, after all).

(The addendum was, indeed, annoying. Could he somehow delete that entirely from their system? Would the guide get upset at him for that?)

That thought had been interesting. The man didn’t want to upset the guide? That was… new, and he glanced down at the guide again as they wandered toward a silent fountain. This, too, was something the guide was eager to talk about, and the man was all too happy to listen to it ramble on, even if it was a bit silly about its assumptions on what humans could do to their bodies.

By the Sun did he want to answer the guide’s questions. He wanted to talk to it, hold an actual conversation, just as much as he loved listening to it talk. But not yet, not…

Yet? Would there come a time he would speak to the AI? Let himself be known?

Perhaps. He wanted to, he truly did, but…

There was still that fear. He knew how he was viewed by humans who knew of him. And he was developing an intense desire to just stay , to continue listening, exploring, enjoying the museum and its guide. His time here would come to an end at some point, it would have it, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as the guide spoke about something in the water. A… horse? Oh, no no no, that was a Kelpie, and the man did his best not to smile at it. He was more than powerful enough to control such things as kelpie, even without using his voice.

And then he heard the… distortion in the guide’s voice as it urged him toward the Kelpie, and he glanced down at it. Was that the effect of the Kelpie, or… was the guide truly breaking down? The guide’s fear about that possibility now began to creep into him too, and he felt a distinct desire to fix things, to help the guide and keep it safe from harm.

He stood and moved away from the fountain, hoping to distract them both from this sudden turn of events.

It didn’t last very long, as the guide glitched again. Definitely not the Kelpie then.

Still, an exhibit about a Changeling? He’d heard of such things, but human stories about them were largely overblown. Was this an actual incidence of one?

Oh. Oh no. No, no no it very much was not. His horror and anger steadily grew as the guide told the story.

Stupid, stupid humans, and their ignorant bigotry. Not that his people were any better (no, they were, in fact, so very much worse), but he could always hope they’d be less stupid! Less awful! But no, they go and do shit like this . This was why he didn’t actually feel bad about his harmless pranks, about making humans feel horror, or tricking them into deals, or any other number of his actions in this realm. They were so resoundingly ignorant and terrible at the same time!

Oh, some of them were great! But then there were people like this , who would just abandon their children because they weren’t exactly like them!

He was feeling such rage on the Changeling’s behalf, despite the happy ending for the child. He knew all too well what it was like to be derided and disdained for not being exactly what his people expected of him. To not fit in amongst those that had given him life, to not share their ideals or desires. To not be a perfect copy.

The man hated that place, that realm of the Fae. Hated how no one could trust anyone else, and how everyone expected everyone else to conform to what they wanted of them. The place was a nightmare.

If only he’d found a place like the Changeling had, when he’d run away. All he’d found was the Beast, yet another person who only wanted him to be exactly what it wanted. Oh, things had been fun for a time, until the Beast got too… real about it. Was no longer satisfied with him being himself, and it became just another place he felt stifled and imprisoned. If only the Beast would allow him to change, maybe they could become friends again, but as things stood…

“It goes to show that if you don’t fit in, or if those around you don’t think that you should, there is somewhere out there where you will. You just have to find it. Or perhaps… it just needs to find you .”

The man was dragged out of his thoughts and his breath caught in his throat at the guide’s words. It couldn’t possibly know the feelings running through him, right?

And then it followed it all up with its ‘outtro’, and the line “But don’t tell them too much. If they’re worthy, we’ll find them.”

There was no way. He couldn’t… belong . Especially to a place that likely knew so much about him about the things he’d done (many of them awful). But so many of the things he’d wandered into had… resonated with him, with his want for a true home. And… and the more the guide spoke, the less the man wanted to leave. To leave it .

Was it possible to have a life where he got to enjoy the guide’s kind, enchanting presence while listening to it just describe all these wonderful and ridiculous things to him? There was no way…

He almost got pulled into a spiral of ‘what ifs’ when his guide began its ‘intro’ again, only this time filled with more of those errors. The man felt a small amount of panic, he didn’t want anything to happen to it, for it to break down. But he wasn’t a computer expert by any means. Oh, he knew enough to hack into easy systems, but not… not to fix an AI.

The guide was talking again, this time about a clockwork girl, but the man was having trouble focusing on it until the guide mentioned hearing a noise. That made him aware of it too, and he quickly moved into the alcove indicated, peeking out around the corner at the clockwork woman.

A security officer? That could be a problem, best to stay out of her way. Still, she was a work of beauty, whoever had made her had been fantastic at what they did.

If only his own mother had been like this one…

Nope, enough of those thoughts.

…

“--another audio tour guide will be happy to–”

No . He didn’t want  a different guide. Didn’t want this one to break, to be thrown into an incinerator like so many iterations before it had likely been.

A plan was slowly starting to form in the man’s mind, but he wasn’t sure how to enact any of it yet. He needed more time, needed to think. Maybe there would be things in the museum he could use? In fact he was sure there would be, with everything he’d seen so far. He’d just have to find what he needed sooner rather than later. Before the guide broke for good.

He continued through the museum with more determination than before, coming before a small wooden crown. A story about a little king…

Hah. Being on top would come most naturally to the man. He’d been born to rule, or so his mother said, and he did find it easiest. He just hated his mother’s realm and its horrific politics (besides, his mother would never truly retire, she’d just control it all through him, and that was more of a nightmare than anything else).

But the museum surely already had someone in charge, a curator. He was sure the guide had spoken about them during the story about the lantern. So he couldn’t do that, unless he could convince the old curator to give up their role and retire…

His mind was wandering with ideas, and he forced himself back to paying attention to the guide, guilty that he’d lapsed in his attention. He wasn’t wholly sure what he’d missed, but this story wasn’t quite as interesting as some of the others he’d heard in the last hour and some. It had more felt like a… a catalyst for his mind. Was that possible? He’d heard the museum’s layout was labyrinthian and shifting, could it also… be trying to guide him in its own way, to help him come to a conclusion? No, no that was ludicrous. It had to be.

Besides, the little king had solved the crisis with cruelty, with…

The man internally sighed, as his plan further unfurled in his mind. Damnit. The guide, as kind as it was, might never forgive him if he went through with what he was starting to think he needed to do. Suns, he might never forgive himself . There was no doubt there would be some sacrifice involved, and he hated that. Pitting the museum up against his mother and her ilk…

But if he wanted this (and he was finding more and more that he well and truly wanted this), he probably had no choice.

Maybe he could end up avoiding the little king’s folly, of making the people of the museum… of making the guide , hate him. Maybe… just… just maybe. ( Please , he would give almost anything.)

He practically trudged to the next exhibit, hoping the guide wouldn’t notice. But it was struggling with its own problems, so it didn’t, and that worried him enough in its own right. He was becoming positively enamored with this little machine, and wasn’t that a trip?

Suns alive , he was in trouble.

The next exhibit was about Will o’ the Wisps, something he was familiar with already. He smiled at the hovering ball of light, grateful for the distraction from his thoughts. Was he lost? No, he was sure now that he was the exact opposite. He was exactly where he should be. He’d been found .

And then the guide began to audibly glitch again, and the man quickened his pace past the wisp. The next exhibit…

He didn’t want to stop at it. He wanted more to find a way to help the guide, but… but without being able to use his voice, he couldn’t convey that.

And besides, he… well, he did want to hear about this one, for… personal reasons. He wanted to know what they thought of him. He knew what most people thought, though he hoped the museum had a different view, but this… this felt somehow more cruel. This memory. He should have known the effect he’d have on these people when he sang, and it hadn’t even been one of his pranks or tricks, not intentionally. He’d actually been trying to help , that time. To give them a good time. And the guide told the end like it was… a bad thing. He’d just been trying to undo the damage he’d done!

The Man With The Voice Like Coffee And Chocolate And Honey All At Once.

He… hadn’t exactly meant for that to be what people called him. Not exactly. The man couldn’t help how humans heard his voice, but he had been able to ensure they all got it… pretty much identical. And he’d absolutely influenced being The Man. It felt… it felt more right , than being called the girl by the Beast, and that or child by his mother. The Man made him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

Of course, he fully accepted that his people had a much more… complicated relationship with gender and sex than humans, who were painfully uninspired in those categories. But The Man felt… felt right to him, even so. Oh, he was okay with being called They, but… but He was just… Mwah! Yes!

His mother and those she ruled would never understand. He was supposed to be a perfect little mini-her, just like that person on the throne. And if he was made to take the throne, he’d be expected to–

The man’s focus abruptly shifted back to the guide as it had a much more dramatic moment of glitching, and he actually spoke to it in concern, “Guide?” Catching himself only after it was said and done.

Fortunately it got lost in the guide’s glitching, and while it thought he might have said something, it disregarded it, and hadn’t actually heard his voice.

He took a deep breath and continued on, the next place his feet found their way to was…

A cafeteria?

Huh. He was going to make a cup of tea until he heard ‘worcestershire sauce’ and cringed. The rest of the food sounded unappetising, and he silently agreed with the guide about the place going off the rails. Still, he got himself a plate of tikka masala anyway, and ate it quickly, wanting to get on with things. Even he got hungry.

(He did note the gender neutral bathroom though, that would probably save him a lot of trouble in the future when… if he managed to pull this off.)

The next exhibit they encountered was a set of bowties, and the man eyed them curiously. He didn’t remember the man in question, but that wasn’t unusual. Humans came and went, they had painfully short lives compared to himself. 

This story was marvelous. It was filled with hubris, trickery, and comeuppance. The man practically lived for this kind of thing. Hell, if you looked hard enough at the things he’d done, you’d find that many of them had those same elements. He liked to make humans realize that they weren’t quite as good as they thought they were. That they had fucked up because they thought too highly of themselves.

Okaaaay, maybe he was projecting his desires toward his mother onto humans a bit. Still. Some humans deserved it almost as much as that horrible excuse for a Queen.

Ugh, the Queen… He knew she would have tricks up her sleeve when it came to ‘reacquiring’ him, how was he going to get around that? Unlike this Don fellow, the man couldn’t be in two places at once. And with that bell… If she got someone he cared about to ring it?

…Maybe… he needed to be nowhere for a while. Was that possible? But knowing his mother, he was also likely to need to be in two places at once. Otherwise she’d see him coming.

He filed both concepts away for future consideration. Maybe it’d all fall into place as he looked further around the museum.

(Oh, oh yes, he was very much coming to hate that the guide had to tell visitors to incinerate it. And also beginning to wonder if it was personally ad libbing the changing ridiculous part of the ‘liability’ section. Conflicting emotions… Curse being mortal, sometimes.)

The guide’s breakdown was becoming much more severe, and it took every ounce of the man’s will to not speak to it again, instead rubbing his thumb in a hopefully comforting motion over the device that contained his copy of the guide. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to become any more worried about it. It felt like it was… breaking apart in his hands, and he almost felt like mourning it. Especially as it repeated the need to incinerate it over and over again.

Was it breaking down, though? As afraid as the man was, he was starting to feel… more from the device, his personal brand of magic reacting stronger to it. This guide was… becoming , and the man nodded as the guide actually said the same thing aloud that the man had been thinking.

He was certain now, that the museum had been both stupid and cruel toward the AI. 

Could he fix that though? He’d certainly give it his damnedest try.

They moved on from the now-unknown chest of drawers and on to a mirror. It looked slightly fancy, engraved and of an interesting shape. 

Oh, it was the same trick he’d used on the museum, part of why it had taken him so long to get in here. He’d had to take the time to convince someone in one of the shelters to write the same symbol (he’d targeted an unknowing patron, it was far easier), and that had just… taken time. Maybe he hadn’t had to do it, but it had seemed fun . And he’d been bored. And…

Oh. Oh no. Some of the last pieces of his plan slotted into place, and he internally kicked himself. This was going to be painful, for himself and for the people in the museum. Probably especially for the guide. The guide was going to hate him, would likely never forgive him.

He didn’t know if it was worth it, but he had to try. Because if he didn’t, he would regret it for the rest of his life, and this was one regret he couldn’t stomach. 

There were so many moving parts that he had no idea if it would all come together no matter what he did, but… the guide, his Guide, would play a key role. Would be the lynchpin. No, finding forgiveness was likely not in the cards, not as kind as the guide was. Not for what he was going to do. Make it do. 

And yet, he had to try. Maybe, just maybe he’d get lucky, and the guide would understand (though he was loath to think how many years it would take to reach that point).

He could also hope .

The next exhibit, the skull that sat before them on the pedestal was a curious thing, beautiful in its morbidity. An absolute perfect fit for the museum, if such a thing were possible. His dismay when a noise interrupted them before the guide could tell him about it was immense, as he was quite drawn to the object. But even though he was certain he would be okay, protecting this version of the guide was now paramount in his mind.

His guide was overriding its programming now? Yes, it was certainly nice to see how right he’d been about its becoming.

(It was hard to suppress his chuckle at the idea of his eyes getting left behind, and he could only wonder just how many times that had happened to workers in the past. The morbidity of this place suited him.)

Staff only area, though… he hadn’t actually expected them to find their way back here so quickly, though he did expect to get back here at some point. His original plan had been to undo the lockdown after touring the museum, and even though that had changed, there were still things he needed back this way.

It was a rather boring looking staff area though, maybe he could spruce it up, later. No good, being boring.

He did hide his wince at the guide wondering to him what happened to the staff in the auxiliary security station. He knew. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but sometimes even he worded things poorly. Usually he was better than that, but… he didn’t always expect humans to be quite that stupid.

The guide’s curiosity about the strange box piqued his own, and he suppressed another chuckle at his guide’s insistence, and then subsequent disappointment. And the description.

Oh Guide. The man almost couldn’t contain his laughter and he humored his guide by picking up the doorstop, before returning it to its container. He really wanted to know what it was, disappointed just as the guide was, but that might be a story for them to discuss at a future date.

Yes, more hope. Sad, pathetic hope, doomed as he knew it was.

The store room they entered next was… indeed the most interesting room in the entire museum so far, as the guide began its story. And he did want to know, and was grateful to the AI for sharing its tale. The tale of its own creation, of its father. He wished he could have met the man who created what was quickly becoming his favorite person, but alas… 

And as he listened, he realized just how much the guide’s glitching had disappeared, almost nonexistent now.

Even its father had contributed to it being held back, though. That was both sad and frustrating, and the man wondered if the guide’s father would hate himself if he knew what he’d been holding it back from . The man couldn’t hate him for it, the father had been trying to protect it, and he couldn’t even hate the researchers who had done the same despite the lack of any similar intent. The result of their actions was that he got to meet this guide, his guide. Had it become into itself earlier, he might not have had quite the same reaction to it. No, that was unlikely, his guide was too… itself already, even despite all the deletions. Incinerations .

The man stared sadly at the AI’s box as the story came to its conclusion, and again there was the curator. Further complicating his plan. His hopes?

He ignored that concern, he’d find a way to make things happen, one way or another. Time travel was a thing, right? But no, his guide would have recognized him if he’d done that, plus he would never have let them kill it over and over again. Would he?

Another internalized sigh, and he gave his guide a sad look as it rebooted. He, too, was glad his guide had told him the story. He wished it had had a happier ending for it, wished he’d been able to hear it under better circumstances, when he wasn’t about to make the AI hate him (likely forever). Everything about this felt awful.

And yet another shelter, and the man felt his awfulness only increase. He gave his guide a sad look at the request to put his hand on the door, and… as expected, the shelter’s security measures had absolutely no effect on him.

Yet another thing about the museum that needed an overhaul.

There had to be a way to keep them from incinerating his guide though. He couldn’t accept that fate. He’d keep it with him until he found another way, he had to.

They continued to wander through the staff area until they happened upon an odd skeleton, and again intrigued, he paused in front of it as his guide began to talk about it. He was going to miss this, when other parts of his plan had to be put into action. When he couldn’t listen to it telling him all about the things contained within these walls. No matter how long he was going to wait until he found a way to save his guide, when it did, their parting of ways would come quickly thereafter.

He remembered the storm told about within the story, he’d been in this realm when it had occurred, and he’d found it fascinating. Mostly he’d found the human reaction to it fascinating, not the storm or flood or anything. Humans had so much capacity, so much variation, and he loved to watch it.

It seemed unlikely that the skeleton was going to be a danger to anyone, but he had seen weirder things, even on this tour alone! But not putting it up because of… politics?

That just reminded him of home, and the whole idea left a bad taste in his mouth. Everyone always had to look so deep into everything, thinking everything must have a double meaning or whatever. Maybe the people who sent this did so because they thought it was interesting and wanted to preserve a part of their own history. Or maybe the whole point had been targeted at the museum and its staff, not at the patrons.

Suns, he thought this whole thing was stupid.

He moved past the skeleton and they finally made their way to the Patronage department, and his guide started to get… Very depressing.

The man did everything to keep his emotions off his face. The way his guide spoke about it all, about what it thought was to come for him and for itself, the way it thought of him as a friend . He wanted to break down and apologize to it, to explain everything, but he somehow knew everything would fail if he did. Hell, his chances of succeeding were already less than stellar!

Wait, Patronage was where they typically disposed of the audio tour guides? The man forced down the spike of rage he felt at that, and vowed to never let that happen again. One way or another, this was going to come to an end.

He let out a slow breath, hoping it seemed normal, and when his guide mentioned hooking it up to the tour guide distribution system, he almost ( almost } broke down in relief. He knew there had to be a way to back it up, and he was grateful his guide also fully came to realize it wasn’t actually malfunctioning. Trying to wordlessly convince it to let him save it if it didn’t agree with his conclusions would have been a disaster waiting to happen.

His guide already was more.

The man moved to the distribution station and followed his guide’s instructions on how to connect it to the system, hesitating only when his guide mentioned that it was going to technically die. He knew that wasn’t it, he was actually allowing it to live, but… it still worried him.

But just like his plan, he couldn’t not do this, so he pressed the indicated button and waited.

And waited. It was perhaps the longest wait of his life, despite only being a mere few seconds. Yet it felt like so much longer, and that hurt. Ached. The fear, the worry, that he’d actually just killed his guide.

And then the new guide spoke to him the same, like they’d just met before, and had it not been for the new guide emanating the same fundamental life energy as the old one (and not the lesser energy it had had when they first met), he likely would have broken down. But no, it was the same as before, this was his guide, and he’d never been happier at a success.

Not that he let himself show it. Hide your true emotions, always. Maybe a day would come when he didn’t have to, but today was certainly not that day.

He took the new copy of his guide in hand, and continued on their way. He wasn’t going to be able to fulfill his guide’s wishes, not right now, he had other things he had to do first, but perhaps they’d find a reason he couldn’t do that when they got there, and be able to spend longer together. That really seemed like a pipe dream, though.

They passed by the break room, and the man poked his head in as his guide began to describe it, curiosity piqued.

Oh, that was definitely a fancy break room. He’d been in all manner of human break rooms (and a couple fae, he supposed), never while working, of course (at least not in the traditional sense), and this one was above and beyond any of those.

And had an incinerator . Sigh.

Ignoring that… The non-euclidean space didn’t really bother him, but he’d realized years ago that he saw it in a different way than humans, so that wasn’t surprising. Just couldn’t let his guide know. He even noticed the hurdy-gurdy before his guide mentioned it, and only moved toward it as his guide brought it up. He liked these instruments, they were one of the bizarrest human instruments and only spoke to why he was fascinated with them. The Fae couldn’t make anything like this.

The man didn’t know how to play, and refrained from trying to do so on this one as well. Still, if he did he’d play the song of his heart? Hm. He was… curious. Even if he’d forget it, even if it might bother him to not remember for the rest of his life, he would like to hear it once. Though the thought of it also… scared him a little. Scared him that he might not actually like what he heard.

(He didn’t let himself dwell on his guide’s words regarding it being different from the main version now. Perhaps he could reupload this version before he left, make sure its memories of him, of their time together, would be… intact.)

Finally they’d made it to the auxiliary monitoring station, and he stood before the door with trepidation in his heart. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and as he opened it and his eyes fell upon the dead body he’d known would be there (even if he hadn’t already been aware of it, he’d started smelling it ages ago), he forced his face into a carefully neutral expression. Suns… He’d really fucked this one up. Didn’t think about the consequences of telling someone to ‘remove himself from the museum’ when it was in lockdown, so of course the mesmerized guard had taken the only option out he had. Sometimes the man could be so stupid.

He moved further into the room as his guide noticed the body, and while it spoke, the man looked around the room, stopping as his guide noticed something wrong. Damnit.

Damnit . His time was about to be up, he knew it.

He let out a soft breath, not necessarily grateful anymore to see on the screens that the mirror trick had worked. Yet he still did as his guide asked, showing it what it suspected and he already knew.

He tried to suppress it then, his guide’s memories of telling him about the mirrors, but that turned out to only make things worse. And he shut his eyes as his guide asked him to speak, its disdain for The Man With The Voice clear in its tone. He’d suspected that was going to be the case, but it hurt to be proved right. 

Well, this was it. This was… the end.

With ache in his heart, the man set his guide down and walked out of the room. He had too many things to do, had too much to lose if this didn’t work. 

It was funny, when he’d first found his way into the museum, he’d planned to go through with unlocking the shelters so they could all come back from their mini-vacations in other realms, yet now? Far too much to do to even consider it, things he needed to do without their presence. His guide would find a way to lift the lockdown itself, he was sure of that. His guide would be all right, even if it was going to hate him.

Sorry, Guide, but… this was something he had to do. Please, please understand, someday.

And still, the fear and panic in his guide’s voice as he had walked away from it was going to live forever in his mind and heart, haunting him. He was just… going to have to live with that.

If he lived through all of this at all.