Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful blue day. Sticks of all kinds were out and about the streets of the Outernet, enjoying the sapphire blue skies. Clouds provided shade for its people, yet never hogged attention from the sun. The warm weather wrapped its arms around the bustling city and even to the dense forests surrounding its edge. However, this peace was quickly interrupted once a pair of hollow headed stick figures zoomed through the trees. One, enraged and yelling, wisps of flames flickering out as they roared in anger. The other, passive. Only taking the verbal remarks in stride, seemingly causing even more anger in the other.

“Come on, Cho! What the hell was that back there?” Dark hisses out as he slams open the door to their house. The red figure hovers angrily through the living room, placing an army helmet on a shelf filled to the brim with spoils of war. Chosen calmly floats in behind him, “I don’t get what you–” The black hollow head tilts his head to avoid a fireball heading his way. “Watch the fire! We just repainted the walls.”

“Oh, fuck your walls,” Lowering his arms to his sides, Dark rolls his eyes, “You completely flaked out on me at the end! What kind of friend does that?” The red figure lets his feet touch the floor as he turns to storm closer to his partner in crime. The thought to crush Chosen’s skull open on their nice, hardwood floors, rushes through him, but he holds his twitching hand down. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, but eventually his hand returned to normal.

“A friend that doesn’t like seeing innocents die without cause. We barely attacked humans! Just the people that lived there.” Chosen huffed as he walked closer to the other’s face. Dark sneered and pushed his friend out of his way.

“Don’t act all goody-two shoes now. If you really cared about them, you would’ve stopped me.” Chosen stared in silence, the same blank expression on his face. Dark rolled his eyes while he walked into the kitchen, “I just don’t get why you’re so against it now?” The red-head huffed as his anger melted into melancholy, “We’re supposed to be in this together.”

Chosen drops his shoulders, the weight of guilt seemingly pulling them down. “We are–” Dark lets out an obnoxiously loud groan and slams his head on the kitchen counter. His hands fiddle with the fruit bowl while still hiding his face.

“Are we?” He turns his head to make eye contact with his roommate, “Because it really doesn’t feel like it.”

Chosen paused, his head turning to stare at the cracked helmet decorating their small living room. He pushes his hand through his hair and sighs, turning away from the decor, “I’m with you,” He gives a small smile, “We came this far together, no?”

Chosen walks close enough to rest his hand on Dark’s scalp. The two sat in silence as they just enjoyed each other’s presence. Chosen reached over Dark’s head and placed a mango in front of his roommate. The redhead stared at the fruit before carefully peeling away at the skin with his claws. “... Sorry for lashing out at you,” He doesn’t turn his head to meet Chosen’s face, “I don’t know why I’m so angry. I just am.” He handed Chosen a piece of mango, which the other gratefully took.

“Well, I’ll be here to help you figure it out.”

“Thanks, Cho. It really–” Dark pauses, looking around as a sour scent stings his nostrils, “Hey, do you smell that? It smells kinda…” The red figure sways a bit before collapsing out of his seat. Chosen leaps into action, grasping his friend’s shoulders. He puts his own head to the other’s chest as he listens to the lulling heartbeat of his roommate. Suddenly, the same sour smell snuck its way towards the young adult. Chosen attempted to cover his face inside his black parka, but an intense drowsiness already struck its prey.

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“...sen….”

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“..Chosen…”

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“CHOSEN!” Jolting up into a sitting position, a harsh smack was the first feeling the black hollow head felt. Struggling to catch his breath, his eyes dart around the room in a frenzy. It is only until he feels the familiar, rough claws of Dark does he calm down. Dark gives a nervous, yet cocky grin, “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Where,” Chosen looked around, “Where are we?” The walls were void black, along with the floor. A large, flat-screen T.V. hung on the wall, with several white couches and rugs all facing the device. No windows, doors, or visible vents, but Chosen could feel a light breeze entering from somewhere.

“No clue, but I don’t want to stick around to find out.” Dark grabbed the black hollow head by his arm and yanked him up, “Ready to wreck this place?”

Chosen nods and attempts to send a wave of fire from his hands, but nothing emerges. Not even a hint of smoke. He curses under his breath as he attempts to laser the tar black walls of the room. After a while of nothing, Chosen looks at Dark with worry in his eyes. He spent years using these powers like a fish to water, but for not even a lick of heat to emerge? He registered just how dangerous the situation was. Dark grimaced and attempted to levitate, but to no avail. He couldn’t even send out a singular snowflake from his fingertips.

Dark cursed, “Our powers are useless here.” Suddenly, a light snicker catches both of their attention. At lightning pace, they put themselves back-to-back, readying their arms in a fighting stance. A group of teens, no older than 15 by the looks of it, freeze. Their red friend, back towards the dangerous duo, continues to swirl his finger on the side of his head, imitating a “cuckoo” sound. Noticing his friends' pale expression, he nervously turns around to the intimidating faces of the hollow headed duo.

“Who are you? What have you done to us?” Dark yanks the red sweater on the teen towards him, “I don’t need any fancy powers to knock you toddlers into time out” He snarks out, showing off his sharp teeth.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Chill, man! I was just joking!” The red one says as he pulls himself free from the other’s grasp, stumbling to get closer to his friends. A younger one, simply based on the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, steps in front of Red, creating a barrier between the group and the duo. He gives a glare, raising his fists to defend his friend. Chosen raised a brow at his poor form. Where did they learn to fight, YouTube? It was clear these kids had no hand in their capture.

The boy’s mouth was covered with a bright orange scarf, with paint stains decorating his overalls. “Whoa! I’m shaking in my boots, pipsqueak. Don’t hurt me now~” Unfortunately, Dark also seems to have realized these kids were no threat to them, and has now moved on to his second favorite hobby, bullying children. He takes a few steps back before abruptly leaping their way, “BOO!”

The boy and his little red friend jumped in surprise, causing more of the group to get into shoddy fighting stances, even the nervous redhead from before prepping for a fight. Chosen sent a disapproving glare Dark’s way, though the man was too busy hiding his laughter to notice. “Hey, Red didn’t do anything to you! So,” Orange text pops up beside the hollow headed teenager, “So back off, weirdos!” Red, apparently, gives a light “Yeah!” from beside a taller, blue stickman.

‘A mute?’ Dark wipes a tear from his eye as he takes another step closer to the group, interested to see what they would do next. The teens remain steady in their position, antsy for the first punch to be thrown. Chosen rolls his eyes, pulling Dark towards him, “Sorry. My partner can be…” He glances over at the mischievous face of the red hollow head, “a lot.”

The group tenses before quickly relaxing into carefree smiles. The orange one almost faceplants into the floor, a look of exhaustion appears on their face. The yellow stick figure is the last to leave his stance, but relents as he notices his friend about to sleep on the floor. “Don’t worry we know a thing or two about troublemakers.”

He gives a small side eye to the red teen, “Red, take Second to one of the couches. I don’t want him sleeping on the floor again.” Red, apparently, huffs and leads the small hollow head away from Chosen’s eyes. The boy makes sure to shoulder check Dark on his way out. Chosen tightens his grip on his roommate’s tank top before war breaks out, he can feel a migraine forming.

“It’s great we didn’t have to resort to violence!” The tallest, blue stickman takes a few steps forward to shake the black hollow head’s hand, “It would be a shame to beat up strangers we just met!” The grip of the handshake tightens, with a glint of “try us” in his eyes. Chosen peaks over the shoulder of the teen just in time to catch the yellow stickman pocketing a strange looking staff. Noticing the strange glance, the boy waved with a fake smile.

“Right…” A lankier, green boy lazily walks up to the blue boy. He casually hangs his arm around the other’s shoulder, and he leans in with a note. “Yo, I just found something that might catch your interest, Blue.” Blue hums as he grabs the note. As the teen read, his lanky friend looked Chosen up and down before ending on a judgmental eye roll.

“Welcome, Stick Figures. Today, you will be watching both the past and the future. I have disabled everyone’s abilities to ensure no damage is done to the seating area. Videos will play when everyone is ready, and will pause should anyone talk. No one can leave until everything is seen. Enjoy your future.” Blue reads off. He flips the note over to see if the mysterious author hid more information, but it was just blank.

“I suppose that answers our power problem.” Chosen thoughtfully hums.

“And why the staff was malfunctioning as well.” Yellows add on. The boy brings out the stick and waves it around. He aims it at the wall, yet only a feather comes out, “Still a good bo staff, regardless.”

Chosen turns his head to watch his partner-in-crime nudging a gray stick figure lying in the corner. The man had deep eye bags, along with a multitude of scars covering his face. His fingers twitch after Dark sends another light kick his way. As the gray man begins to stir, Dark takes a step back and looks on in curiosity.

“... Agent?” Dark crouches down and gives a devious look. Chosen feels a headache coming on.

“Yes?” The redhead replies in a gruff voice. The man pauses, then looks up in confusion. His confusion seemed to intensify as he looked around the room, his eyes resting on every figure before standing still on Chosen. His gloved hand twitched and reached out towards the black stick figure before falling back to the ground.

Dark gave a short glance towards Chosen, mouthing the words, “Do you know him?” To which Chosen could only shrug. Dark cleared his throat, pulling the person up by the collar of their shirt. “My apologies, you simply…” The man pauses, “Reminded me of something…”

He stands to his feet as he dusts himself off, “Do you know where we are?”

Yellow took the lead there and explained the contents of the note along with observations of the room. The gray figure was attentive, though seemed to hone in on the room's “no-power” barrier. After a lengthy explanation, the adult hummed, “It seems we are all trapped together, and it would be in our best interest to then work together. Perhaps we should go over names? I’ll go first, my name is…victim. Refer to me as Vic, though.”

Yellow brightens and pushes his wire framed glasses up, “Excellent idea! I’m Yellow,” the teen turns to his friend group, “And these are my friends Red–”

The boy shot up at the sound of his name and gave a toothy grin. It was only then that Dark noticed the boy had a faded scar across his forehead that was once covered by his yellow bandana. Red was getting comfortable on one of the provided couches, his orange friend sitting on a separate couch at the front, dozing off.

“Green–” Said teen splayed himself next to the red hollow head, his arms resting behind his head as he gave a short nod to the adults. Chosen felt surprised, he hadn’t even noticed Green had left Yellow’s side.

“Blue–” The boy held up a short peace sign in greeting. He sat behind Red and Green, his feet kicked up on the couch in front of him. Though, a small tickle from the duo forced him to put them back on the floor.

“And The Second Coming! Though, he just uses Second.” Green gently nudged the boy awake. Second let out a silent yawn before giving a sluggish wave towards the group. Although still lethargic, he seemed a lot more awake than before.

“Well, I’m Dark and this is Chosen,” Dark vaulted over the couch being Second to take a seat, “And let's get this show on the road. I have shit to do after this” Chosen rolled his eyes and sat down on Dark’s legs, forcing them to move. The Dark Lord childishly stuck his tongue out, to which Chosen smiled fondly.

“Me, as well.” Vic awkwardly sat next to Second, who only waved and scooted over to give the man more room. Yellow smiled and took a seat next to Blue

As everyone got situated, the flat-screen television came to life.

A familiar cursor strolls on to the screen.

“Ah! Look! It’s Alan, guys!” Orange text beams over Second’s head as the boy sways back and forth in excitement. Red gives a supportive yahoo in agreement, as the others follow up with their own cheers. They had never been told about what their host did before they arrived, so it would be fun learning more about the past. “You,” victim pauses as Second turns his attention towards the scarred adult, “You all know him?” Dark grips his seat in anger, his nails piercing the soft leather of the couch. “And like him?” Dark snarkily adds on, earning a light elbow from Chosen. The group turn their heads in confusion towards each other before looking back at the duo. “Uh, yes? We do mini-fights with him every week!” Yellow intervenes.

“Willingly?” Chosen rasps. He begins to bounce his leg as the weight of a long disposed of chain anchors him to the ground. Vic stayed silent, observing the nervous tick of the black hollow head.

“I guess?” The teen pushed up his glasses in confusion. What kind of past did these sticks have with Alan? He glances over to the rest of his friends, who all shrug in response.

‘Of course, that scumbag wouldn’t stop at just me and Cho. I just need to work faster on my little project to give that asshole a real taste of his own medicine’ Dark pauses in his train of thought as Chosen places a comforting hand on his wrist. The man only gives him a slight glance to check in on him. Dark nods and he looks away.

victim sits in tense silence. Perhaps, when he escapes the room, he can look towards recruiting these teens for his cause. Their resentment should be a useful tactic in bringing the animator down. ‘Though it seems, they don’t even realize what they are experiencing isn’t normal. To think that man couldn’t get any lower’ Vic sneered at the thought as he watched the children talk happily amongst themselves.

Chosen grimaced at the idea Alan just replaced them for new and even younger punching bags. Though, his attention was caught again as Second offered him a glass bottle of water. The older man doesn't respond immediately, causing the boy to tap his own throat to explain.

“For your rasp.”

“Thank you” Chosen mumbled as he gently took the water bottle. The boy simply drew out a smiley face with his fingers instead of typing a response. It was then decided, Chosen would find the teens and take them far away from the abuse suffered from Alan’s hand. Unknowingly, Vic watched the interaction with new plans in mind. The Chosen One had a soft spot for kids? His eyes drift away from the older hollow head to the younger. Or perhaps just this one?

The cursor pauses before drawing a stick figure, all black in color. It right-clicks on the drawing, pressing the symbol command. A new window pops up as the cursor types in the name “victim”

“Ah! It’s you, Mr. Vic! I didn’t know you were also made by Alan!” TSC types curiously as the gray figure tenses in his corner of the couch.

“Yes, yes, I was created by…him.” The man coldly replies, but then freezes in his dismissal, “Did you say, ‘also’?” Chosen and Dark follow in Vic’s footsteps to glance over at the orange hollow head for confirmation. While they had theorized the boy had to be created by a human rather than generated, good experiences with a creator weren’t common, so they were hesitant to assume.

“Yup, our little basketball hoop here was made by the mouse man, himself!” Green playfully responds as he kicks his legs upon Red’s lap, “They hang out a lot on the down low. Alan says it’s because ‘together we are too destructive’, but we all know he just likes Sec here the most.”

The orange boy flushed in response and buried himself in his scarf. He types out a small “But you guys DO demolish the place” in defense, but the rest of his friend group give him a knowing look. Feeling even more embarrassed in front of these (cool) strangers, he types an even smaller “never mind!”. “Let me get this straight,” Dark scratched the back of his neck in confusion, “You were made by Becker…and now enjoy his company?”

“We had a disagreement at first, but we fixed it in the end!” Second calmly types out. Perhaps on just intuition alone, Chosen, Vic, and Dark all lock eyes with each other with a concerned expression. Without making a sound, they all nod and a more determined look crosses their face.

Becker will fall.

Second attempts to read the social cue and nods shortly after them, but Green only shakes his head, “Good try, bud.”

victim seems to come to life as the stick frantically looks at his surroundings. He stretches the size of his surrounding transformation box, attempting to break free. Suddenly, Alan decides to rotate the box, causing the figure to hit his head against the wall.

victim curses instinctively as he attempts to get his bearings, but Alan had already drawn an anvil aimed towards injuring the newly born creation. Fortunately, the teen pushed the box out the way to avoid the metal weight.

“Are–”

“I am fine now.” victim interrupts before Blue could finish talking, “This was a decade ago, do not concern yourself with me, children.” The gray man glanced at the concerned looks of the teens. He forced himself to sit straight as a pool of discomfort formed in his stomach. Blue gave an unconvinced look to his friends, but he knew better than to push the topic.

“These videos are awfully quiet, did you give Becker the silent treatment?” Dark hums in intrigue. Vic pauses, reminiscing back to his perspective of the video.

“I don’t think so? I was rather confused and,” He takes a deep breath, “Scared once I woke up, so I was constantly spouting questions.” Thankfully, no one seemed to ask more about his account of things.

“Perhaps the video can not pick up on our voices?” Yellow theorized.

The box broke as victim scrambled to get away from the anvil. He picks up a side of the box and lunges the makeshift-spear at the mouse. He quickly throws a ball before pouncing on the cursor. “Woo! Beat his ass, Vic!” Dark cheers from the couch. He jumps up in excitement at the thought of violence. Red jumps up in support, cheering for Alan’s destruction. He vibrates from side to side as he begins punching the air. The rest of the teens only give half-hearted cheers from the comfort of their seats.

“Wow, having little minions is cool as hell-Ow!” Chosen gave him a sturdy punch in the side, “What was that for?”

“You’re being a bad influence.” Dark huffs and leans in with an unimpressed gaze. He stares a bit at his partner-in-crime before a cheeky glint shines in his eye.

“Come on, I see your smile! Just enjoy the moment, Cho!”

“I thought you guys liked Alan” Vic questioned once the kids began to quiet down.

“Well, he was mean to you.” Yellow replied. The other teens casually nodded in agreement. Vic didn’t know how to respond to that.

“That’s…” He pans his gaze across the colorful crew, “That’s it? That’s the only reason? He was ‘mean’ to me?”

“Does there need to be more?” Second tilts his head in confusion. Vic stared defeated at the orange child, then at the rest of his nonchalant friends. For the first time since he escaped the void did he begin to pick at his fingertips. He relaxed back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling for some kind of sign.

“No, I suppose not.”

The cursor attempts to shake off the young stick figure, but to no avail. It ends up tossing it at the side of the animating program. victim quickly recovers and ends up tossing more and more things at the mouse. It comes off frustrated as it hits the figure upside the head, and yanks the figure around with the lasso tool.

“Do you think he would ever hurt us like that?” Yellow whispered to the rest of his friends. Although they know Alan wasn’t the nicest at their first meet, it was hard to see such a parental figure be so cruel to another. Although the rest of the gang attempted to give a half-hearted no, they all knew, deep down, they could have been another victim in the making.

Sure, most of them could just respawn on their website should a different computer open their website, but for Second? If he hadn’t struck that deal, they would’ve never seen him again. He had become such an integral part of their lives, it was hard to think of one without him. Second snuggled just a bit closer to his friends, and his friends snuggled just a bit closer to him.

victim lashes out and throws a magnifying glass at the Cursor, breaking free and climbing up the wall. Alan begins drawing a ray gun, fending off the different attacks Vic throws at him. Vic is quick to dodge the blasts once the ray gun is created. He grabs a pen and an eraser, using them as a sword and shield respectively.

“Ah! You’re so cool, Mr. Vic. We should practice using different art tools together!” Second happily types out. victim lets out a small sigh of relief at the small distraction. As much as he enjoys the prospect of more information about his prey, he really didn’t need his past to be shared so casually. Especially since he could feel Dark and Chosen’s eyes burn into the back of his head.

“Do you have experience using them? I could always use an apprentice.” The orange hollow head shakes his head so hard, Vic worried it would fall off. Suddenly a wall of text floods the room. Second swaps seamlessly between typing with his left or right hand and using the other to emphasize his point. Ducking out of the way to avoid being hit by the text box, the rest of his friends smile fondly at the boy’s rambles.

After a minute or two of straight reading, Vic gave a strained smile, “Ah, perhaps you should just send me a resume. I believe we are disturbing others.” He glances over at The Dark Lord and Chosen One attempting to climb the wall of text to get back to their seats. Steam seemed to roll off the hollowed headed boy’s skull as he replaced his essay with a small “sorry” and sat back down. He burrows his face in his scarf, avoiding eye contact with the hollow head sitting next to him.

victim even begins to copy himself in an attempt to get the upper hand. However, as more clones encircle Alan, he rushes towards the “X” button. Every clone pauses as the cursor calmly slides over to the new window that opened up. The window asked if he wanted to save his progress, to which the mouse paused. It didn’t take too long, as it quickly clicked “no”, ultimately deleting victim.

Vic flinches violently away as a small hand rests upon his. He snaps his head down to see Second staring worriedly at him. He looks over to see the rest of the boy’s friends peaking their heads from behind him, giving him reassuring smiles. Had he gotten so entranced, he didn’t notice these babbling toddlers approach him? Vic promised himself he would never show this kind of weakness again.

“Are you good, man?” Dark asks from the other side of the room. A bored expression lays upon his face, but his shoulders tensed in a way implying alertness. Vic’s eyes darted between him and his equally concerned partner. Honestly, these sticks need to mind their own business.

“As I said before, I am perfectly fine. This happened years ago and does not affect me. I do not need the sniveling pity–” His gray eyes shoot daggers into the teen’s faces making them reel back in shock, “of people who do not, and WILL not know me.” Vic ends his declaration with a cold stare at Dark and Chosen, who let that sliver of sympathy disappear into apathy, an emotion Vic can deal with.

Unfortunately, the five little brats seem to look more concerned. It took everything within Vic to not slam one of them into dirt. ‘See if you have the same pity for me, then.’ Before he could do anything rash, he took a deep breath. His eyes closed, attempting to regain composure. ‘Ruining such a resourceful relationship with the teens may turn into a roadblock later down the line.’

With the fakest smile he could, Vic lightly patted Second’s head, “Thank you for your concern.” The group seemed to take the bait as each walked up to give Vic a pat on the back before returning to their seats. Their hands burned his skin in the most foreign of ways, but he kept silent. Chosen glanced over at Dark, who checked his nails in disinterest.

Before Chosen opened his mouth, Dark murmured, “They’ll figure it out later. They aren’t our problem, Cho, don’t butt in.” Chosen sat back at his seat as he watched victim stare calculatingly at the group of kids, but more specifically the small hollow headed member of the group. His hands twitch in frustration, itching to launch a fireball at the man, but nothing erupts.

“I still don’t have a good feeling about it.”

Chapter Text

The room bustled with noise as the stick figures chatted amongst themselves. After the events of the last video, whoever (or whatever) brought them here gave them a grace period before showing the next film.

“You sleep quite a bit for such a young stick.” Second jolts out of his doze to pay attention to Vic’s question.

“Ah, sorry. I’ve just always been sleepy…” The boy yawns, “Don’t be afraid to wake me up if I sleep on you.”

Vic crossed his legs and leaned back, “No need to apologize. It’s obviously something you can’t control.”

“We think it has something to do with how he was made!” Red leaps in excitedly.

“Don’t go airing our business,” Yellow lightly pushes down on the younger’s head, “But, yes. We guessed that since he is hollow, he needs to fill that empty spot through sleep. However, after seeing you all…”

Vic hummed at the teen’s insightfulness. He must be the brains of the group, and by the looks of it, their handler as well. Vic could almost see Agent in the teen. Almost.

“Interesting theory. I don’t believe I have any particular cravings of interest! However, that might be a result of the…events seen in the last tape.”

The gray hollow head gives a tight, close-eyed smile, “ What about you two?”

Chosen frowns at the other’s behavior, but before he could comment Dark interrupted, “I have an urge for destruction and Cho’ has a crazy craving for eating! Especially after using his powers!”

Vic’s eyes lit up in amusement, “Oh, really now?”

The black hollow head felt all the color leave his body as his partner continued, “Absolutely! There’s like 10 different buffets in town that have his photo at the front of the shop telling him he’s banned!”

“OH! OH! Or this time I woke up at like 2am to him eating drywall because he ate his way through a week's worth of groceries! Or how every Door Dasher on the Outernet knows our house by heart!”

Alan. Noogai. Whoever was out there. Please kill him now.

“So your urges act as a power source for your abilities?” Vic ominously summarizes, though his face still has a subtle grin.

“I guess? Not fulfilling them doesn’t stop us from beating ass, but it does make it a hell of a lot longer!”

victim’s eyes trace over Dark and Chosen before landing on a drowsy Second. Three with urges, yet two with powers. Once is a chance. Twice? A coincidence. Yet to prove a pattern…

Second notices the man’s stare and gives a short wave his way.

Vic needed a third. And suddenly, a plan began crafting in his mind.

While Vic plotted, the Colorgang stared at Chosen. The man had gone deathly stiff as Dark rambled on and on about his eating habits. Blue glanced worriedly between the two young adults, “Dude, I think your friend isn’t breathing.”

Dark gives a hearty smack to Chosen’s back, “He’ll be fine.” The black hollow head’s face turns purple.

“Uh, are you sure?”

“Positive!” Dark gives a sharp smile.

Abruptly, the speakers buzzed loudly, calling the attention of every stick figure in the room. Out of the speakers came a 2-minute warning before the next tape would play. Everyone quickly returned to their seat while Dark coaxed Chosen out of his statue form.

“C’mon, you big baby. Don’t freeze up on me,” Dark poked the other’s cheek, “I’ll cook whatever you want for the next week?”

Chosen kept quiet before glancing up through his bangs, “…. Month.”

“Eh? Don’t be unreasonable here, Cho! It was only—“ Then, he does it. The ever stoic Chosen one sulks. His expression doesn’t change much, but the light in his eyes seems to gain an extra shine and his mouth an extra tremble.

Dark rolls his eyes, “Those don’t work—“

“Ahem?” The red hollow head turns his gaze to meet the disapproving looks of 6 children and 1 old man.

Yellow shakes his head in disbelief. Blue stares expectantly, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. Red wasn’t much better as he gave the cruelest thumbs down Dark has ever experienced. Green sent a nasty side eye, “Cough… Asshole Cough…”

“Are you guys seriously falling for this? This man has literally FLATTENED cities?!” Chosen amplified his technique. The looks he received worsened.

“Please do not make this task longer than it needs to be—“ Vic gave a dark, close-eyed smile, “Fix it.”

“>:( Bad Mr. Dark. Bad.” Second disapprovingly wagged his finger.

Dark felt an arrow piece his heart. Was he a dog now?

“Fine, you win. A month of cooking,” Dark didn’t even give Chosen’s smug expression a glance, “Stupid, manipulative bastard.”

Once again, a cursor comes on screen to draw a stick figure. It right-clicks the drawing and types in the name “victim” to convert it into a symbol.

“Oh, are we just rewatching…?” Second makes a small glance towards Vic.

The man frowns as he notices the skin of the figure is much darker than his own, “I don’t think so…”

The cursor deletes the name before cycling through a few others. It ends with the name “The Chosen One”.

Dark fell out of his seat in laughter, “B-Beast? Are you serious? Killer? Oh, my Adobe! This is too good.” The red stick figure slams his fist on the ground as he attempts to breathe, but his laughter consumes him. Chosen rolled his eyes, leaning back on the sofa as his face flushed in embarrassment.

“Go on, laugh it up.” The red head’s laughter intensified. He gasped for air as he rolled on the floor.

“This is the best day of my life!” Dark grips his stomach in pain, “Alan, are you there? I forgive you for everything!”

The stick figure stands still for a moment, but quickly releases a wave of power that breaks their transformation box. Fire engulfs their very being as they send it the cursor’s way.

“So you guys aren’t crazy?!” Red jumps up as he snaps his head back and forth between the screen and Chosen. The rest of the teens also stare wide-eyed at the display of power. The only normal one was Vic, but, in all fairness, his emotional capacity seemed limited to a slight twitch in his lips.

Dark glanced Chosen’s way before turning back to the teens, “I understand thinking Killer~ over here is crazy,” the black hollow head glared, “But me as well?”

Yellow gives a nervous laugh, “Well, imagine waking up to two grown men trying to shoot lasers from their eyes before threatening you. Not the best first impression.” The rest of the kids give their own awkward agreements as the destructive duo avoid eye contact with the others.

Dark’s easygoing smile melts right off his face as he scratches the back of his neck, “Right. Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry about that.”

Red gives a bright smile, “All’s forgiven, man! As long as you show me how to threaten people just like you!” Dark feels a weight lift from his heart.

“My pleasure, minion! First step—Ow!” Dark hissed in pain as Chosen smacked the back of his head, “What the hell is—“

Dark paused, looking up through his unruly locks of hair to the stone-cold expression of Chosen. The black hollow head still had his fist clenched, daring Dark to even mumble another word. Dark rolled his eyes, but still clenched his shirt, afraid his soul would escape his body, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll cut it out”

Red huffed, readying his mouth to make a complaint, but Green quickly flicked his forehead, “Bad, Red. Bad. No threatening without supervision.” The teen stuck his tongue out in defiance, which resulted in another flick to the forehead.

Dark was starting to notice a pattern here…

The stick figure breaks the scrollbar and begins chasing after the mouse with hatred in their eyes. The cursor taunts the drawing before opening up a menu filled with weapons.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Chosen gave Second a nod to keep going, “Why did you immediately start attacking? It looks like Alan didn’t do anything to you.”

Vic couldn’t help but nod, “Yes, it does seem a bit strange. I didn’t start attacking until he tried to kill me.”

Chosen paused, attempting to remember back to his days before The Chest, “I don’t really know.”

The urge to attack and demolish the cursor was just as innate as his powers. He felt queasy the more he thought about his first fight for survival. Was there a reason behind his anger?

Chosen’s nails dug further into his knees, a light buzz of static echoing in his ears. Was he the one who caused his imprisonment? If he wasn’t so…him, could he have lived those 5 years trapped in a cage free? He clenches his eyes tightly, attempting to block out the thoughts. Maybe he should’ve stayed locked–

“Stop thinking whatever stupid idea is going through your mind, Dumdum,” Chosen jolts up to meet the serious expression of his roommate.

“He had no right to do… anything that he did to you. You were just a kid.” Dark kept his voice low, side eyeing the other occupants in the room to mind their own business. Chosen’s shoulders drop in relief then guilt. What footing does he have to stand on for Dark’s destructive nature when it was his that got them in the whole situation to begin with? He turns his head to look down at his lap.

“When did you get so mature?” Chosen mumbles as he attempts to pull himself together. Dark gives a sly grin before shrugging. His clawed hands never leave his body, bringing Chosen back to the ground.

“Hey, there’s a method to my madness.”

Chosen looked up to see Second giving him a worried glance. The guilt doubles. He sent a tired smile his way, reassuring the kid he was fine. The boy gave a small smile back, before turning to face the screen. For some reason, Chosen feels worse.

Alan organized several firearms to aim and shoot at Chosen, but to no avail. The teen dodged the bullets before destroying them all with his laser vision. The screen was a mess as the program began to collapse into flames. However, Chosen was quick to make his escape to the home screen of the computer.

“What innate fighting prowess, I wonder what makes you so strong?” Vic wonders aloud. Red couldn’t help but agree, the ability to gain such strong powers and the ability to use them to such a skillful degree made him squirm. He could’ve saved the group a lot of stress if he could at least shoot lasers from his eyes.

“I will say, you hollow heads are rather adaptive to your surroundings. It’s almost concerning.” Yellow commented, leaning their back against the end of the couch.

Green nodded as they leaned against Red, “Yeah! Top V was able to use the program’s tools like it was nothing, and C-money’s powers came like second nature!” “Did you just…call me Top V–?”

Second clapped to bring everyone’s attention towards his text, “Maybe it has something to do with us being created by Alan rather than…?” Second pauses in his typing, “Actually, how are normal stick figures made?”

The adults in the room go silent, slowly processing the rabbit hole Second is dragging them down. They turn to the rest of the color gang, hopeful that one of them will take the bullet for them.

Green hums,”Well, Purple has two dads and a mom?” The boy pauses, “Er— had a mom and an extra dad. But I don’t know how they made them…”

“Sorry, but do you guys not have parents?” Chosen sent a concerned look their way. Was Becker really the only Adult these kids had in their life?

“Nope! We all spawned in like plorp! And then we got our colors like Shwoop!” Dark stared at the kid before turning to someone else in the group to translate.

“Most sticks are naturally created by an unknown being, but some can be made from other stick figures.” Green clarifies while resting his head on top of Red’s.

“To be honest, I don’t remember anything after creation. Just that we were assigned to live at stickfight.org.” Yellow bites their thumb in thought; however, Blue gives them a light nudge urging them to not bite themselves.

“Assigned?” Dark prods.

“Yup, most sticks are free to do whatever they want! Some sticks get parented by an older stick, but those who aren’t are assigned to a random game or website to live!” Blue expertly said.

Green smiled and nodded, “It’s always been us four since the beginning of time, so we decided to not risk getting separated!”

“Best. Choice. Ever!” Red shoots his hands up in the air before grappling the others into a group hug. The little ball of energy received a playful noogie in response, resulting in a group play fight.

“Touching.” Vic hummed. However, from the corner of his eye he noticed a nervous looking Second watching his friends from a distance.

The mute teen had a happy smile on his face, but his hands awkwardly played with each other. He so obviously wanted to join in, yet refused to do so. In fact, he only waited for the endless moment between the four to end.

Maybe, if victim had been a little more empathetic, he would nudge Second to join in the group that cared for him like he spawned with them. Maybe he would give those few encouraging words to reassure Second the exclusion was just because he was too far away. Maybe he would hint to the group about their missing member.

Unfortunately, all the empathy victim had was long beaten out of him in The Void. He sat just a bit closer to the boy and lightly rested his hand on the tufts of curly hair. Second tore his eyes away from his friends as he gave Vic his full attention.

“They’re quite the dynamic group.” Second smiled tiredly at the comment.

“Yeah! Couldn’t ask for better friends!”

“You know them well?”

The air around the teen seemed to lighten as he typed, “Of course! Each of them are so unique and so kind! They always make sure I’m okay, and I take care of myself on my really drowsy days! Even when they get into trouble they always find a way out of it! I just don't know…”

Second’s hands falter as he glances over his shoulder at his friends. The teens had broken apart and were laughing amongst themselves.

“…What I would do without them.”

victim smiles and poorly jokes, “And what would they do without you?”

The orange hollow head's smile seemed to strain even more. This time, he didn’t type out a response, and only stared longingly at the others.

“Ever heard of an animal kingdom, pipsqueak? No one is hangin’ around with an animal that don't like.” Dark obnoxiously butts in, swinging an arm around the mute boy. Second still held an upset aura, so Dark continued.

“I guess you can hang with me ‘n Cho if you’re that needy. I could always use an audience when I absolutely demolish Cho’ in combat.”

“You lose most of our—“

“Blah, blah. Semantics. Either way, you are free to tag along after this.” This seemed to elevate Second’s mood as he types out a happy “Thank You” message for his fellow hollow head.

Perhaps Dark’s declaration was too loud as Red hopped up on the couch in frustration, “Hey stop trying to steal our friend, friend stealer! Sec’ is our friend!”

Blue and Yellow fondly roll their eyes as Green jumps up in solidarity, “Yeah! Watch it, old man!”

Second laughed freely as he attempted to calm down his hyped up friends. As soon as the boy turned his back, Dark shot victim a nasty glare, “Don’t think we don’t know what’s going on.”

Vic smiled, “I don’t understand.”

The red hollow head gripped the other’s tie, “You’re really pissing me off with this holier-than-thou act, V. Watch yourself.” Chosen at this point leaned down beside his partner to amplify the threat.

“If you knew my goal, you would be all for it.” Vic hissed out, his eyes darting back and forth between the two, “The ends justify the means.”

Dark rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Just know, you’re walkin’ a dangerous line.” The man huffs as he releases Vic from his grasp before plopping down on the sofa.

“I thought they weren’t our problem?” Chosen teased, earning a light kick from the other.

Dark groaned, “Don’t even start with me. The brat just had the same sulky face you use.”

He glanced over to see the teens trying to pry Red off of the boy so he can go back to his seat, “Actually, it’s creepy how similar you two look.”

Chosen begins wrecking the home screen, pulling out junk from the recycling bin and tearing up files on the desktop. The fox on top of Firefox held quite a bit of distaste for the mess and began attacking the stick figure.

“Whoa, who knew Flame could throw hands?” Red says in awe.

“Who?” Chosen glances over in confusion, but Red simply smiles.

“Flame! The name of the fox you’re fighting! She’s a feisty one, but one head rub will have her chilling in no time!”

“Thanks for the tip?”

The Mascot for AOL Instant Messenger joined in on the battle, causing Chosen a bit of strife.

Dark whistled, “You were a feral one, Cho.”

“3 verses 1?” Blue shook his head, “Talk about unfair.”

“Eh, you guys 4v1 me all the time!” Red whines out as he leans against Green.

“Well, we gotta take out the strongest first.” Yellow reasons.

While Chosen was distracted, the cursor hopped on AOL messenger and began to ask “programmer021” for help.

The programmer asked the man to calm down before questioning what level Chosen was. Noogai responded quickly with “I made him the chosen one” much to the shock of the other. The programmer panics for a bit before attempting to describe the steps to defeat The Chosen One; however, Chosen destroys AOL and the AOL screen.

.

.

.

“WHAT!” Red nearly falls off the couch in shock. Yellow quickly began mumbling to himself a multitude of theories. “So you were,” Second paused as he tried to gain his wording, “...coded? He coded you…to fight you?”

“Does that mean there were others before you?” Vic pondered aloud, “The implication of other levels could mean he has destroyed weaker copies.”

“I’m not sure. When I—” Chosen tensed before slumping into resignation, “When I rummaged through the recycling bin and threw around his files, there wasn’t any record of other lifeforms.”

“There weren’t any traces of Vic either.” Dark butt in. He shot an apologetic glance towards the gray hollow head, “Er—No offense.”

“None taken.”

Second became more distraught as the conversation continued. His creator. His kind, worrywart creator, used the most sacred thing a creator could do to destroy.

To create was to love the being with all of one’s heart. To hold a mutual respect for their wants and needs. Creations were a reflection of a creator’s desires. Alan showed him love, understanding, and protection during his lifespan. Thus, The Second Coming learned to love, to understand, to protect everything that crossed his path.

Animating with Alan held such a sacred place in Second’s heart. It was a time when he participated in the power to make dreams into a reality. The power to bring joy in ways many never think of.

Second felt his grip tighten around his holographic keyboard. So why has he only seen his benevolent creator abuse his power. To hurt his creations. To hate their personality when they fight back. To brush off their feelings.

“You good, Sec?” Green called out in worry. The question startled the boy, making him crush his keyboard into hundreds of little green pixels.

Second huffed as he summoned another keyboard, “Yeah, sorry. I got lost in thought.”

The Colorgang looked unconvinced, but didn’t push it. Second doesn’t like making a scene, and the rest of the gang aren’t completely convinced on how trustworthy the adults are.

“Later.” Blue mouths to the others as they force their eyes away from Second. Red looks like he wants to protest, but still nods in agreement.

Blue sinks back into his seat, staring at the ceiling in thought. They would get through this, he just knew it. He tosses one last concerned glance at the back of Second’s head.

It had always been just them against the world. This time was no different.

Chosen huffs out in exhaustion as Alan finally processes the mess on his desktop. The computer icon wakes up in a rage as the cursor clicks on his antivirus software. The Chosen One and the Computer lock themselves in a tense battle.

“I’ve never seen any of the icons fight quite like this while we’ve been on the computer! How incredible!” Yellow analyzed.

“I didn’t eat my veggies, so they had to take me down.” Chosen dryly jokes, earning a small snort from Dark.

They trade blows back and forth, with Chosen coming out on top by the end. He furthers his path of destruction by eating some of the major icons. Little does he know, Alan finished loading up the Antivirus.

Dark sent a worried glance, Chosen’s way. The man didn’t even watch the screen, but instead stared aimlessly at his lap. He could already tell the black hollow head was shutting down, but this time, Dark couldn’t find it in himself to force his friend to relive his past.

A fury swept through his psyche as he watched in real time the events that still haunted Chosen years past it. Dark spent months comforting and distracting, Chosen from ghosts that weren’t there. He spent years learning how to cook, do laundry, fill out paperwork, and pay hospital bills, so Chosen could just focus on getting out of bed in the morning.

Chosen had given Dark freedom. So Dark gave Chosen the only good thing about him, his time.

Even when he put on a front that he had accepted his past, Dark could still hear the quiet sniffling when the lights went out. So he quietly bought a nightlight for their little bedroom. When a storm shut off all their power and Chosen held his hand until daylight came, Dark made sure to keep emergency candles around the house.

Dark doesn’t understand. He doesn’t pretend to. But he’s perfectly fine as long as Chosen feels better. Let Chosen compartmentalize all he wants, it’s obviously helping him get through the day. Dark will just be angry for the both of them until Chosen catches up.

He takes Chosen’s hand and rubs circles on the back of his hand, just like when they were scared teens in a new world. He feels his partner squeeze in thanks, and that’s enough for Dark.

Chosen jolts as an alarm blares out from the computer system. Alan calmly moves over to click the “Move to Chest” button. Out of nowhere, small, yet powerful, lighting bolts work their way towards the black stick figure.

Vic leans forward in anticipation. “Escape.” he mumbled, “Run away. You can’t beat him.”

His voice couldn’t have been higher than a whisper as the grip on his slacks grew tighter and tighter,“…please.”

Despite Chosen’s attempts to defeat the bolts, he is eventually pinned down and locked in a chest.

A solemn silence rests across the room, and Dark tightens his hold on Chosen’s hand.

Vic fell back against the couch in bitter disappointment. Strands of his normally perfect, slicked back hair covered his vision as he stared blankly at the screen. Right, what was he getting so hopeful for? victim knew how this story ended.

A strange feeling turns in his chest. It takes its place right next to all the silent rage and emptiness that makes up his soul. He feels Second lean against his shoulder and tremble. Vic doesn’t push him away.

The screen comes to life again, showing Alan scrolling through an article. He moves the cursor to the “tools” bar, and summons a chained up Chosen One.

Dark’s expression twists from anger to confusion. He turns to Chosen, looking and searching for some kind of answer, but the stick figure only trembles.

The stick is hunched over, hiding his face from his creator as he eradicates different pop-ups. He pulls on his chained leg, but ends up collapsing against the edge of the window screen. The screen fades to black. “Are you fucking serious, Cho?” Dark stands up in anger, “You didn’t tell me all of this shit!”

Chosen stands up, but refuses to meet the other’s eyes, “I did...”

Perhaps that was the wrong response as Dark’s face twisted from pure rage to fury. He stormed closer to his nonchalant friend, his arms rising up like he was going to choke the other. Chosen didn’t move, his head subconsciously tilts back as if expecting this kind of treatment.

Vic and the kids watch on in silence as Dark’s hands twitch before falling to his sides. His expression turns bitter as he whips his head around and punches a wall, “Fuck, man. You’re serious…” Chosen furrowed his brows in confusion and mumbled, “I don’t understand.” He walks closer to his trembling friend.

“Me neither.” Green calls out from the back, earning a glare from the rest of his friends, “What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!” Yellow glares, “Read the room, smart ass.” “You said he trapped you on his computer. You didn’t say that he was using you like a–a,” Dark stutters over his words in a frenzy, “A toy!”

The room seeped into an awful silence, with only Dark’s heavy breathing cutting through the sound. Eventually, the redhead falls against the wall and chuckles in disbelief. Pushing back his hair, he murmurs, “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”

Chosen stays silent. A guilt wracks Dark as he processes his own actions. “Right, take a deep breath. Cho’ just needs time to process” he mumbles to himself.

Chosen avoids making eye contact with him, so Dark takes the initiative to stand up and get closer. He raises his hand to rest on Chosen’s neck, a place once encased with a metal collar.

“I’ll murder him.” He says absolutely, “I’ll destroy everything he loves, and I’ll murder him.”

He glances at the teens staring at them from afar, the bitter taste in his mouth grows stronger, “No matter what it takes.”

He locks eyes with Victim, “No matter what it costs.”

Chapter Text

The tension in the air was thick, but the audience continued to avoid the issue at hand until it was no longer an issue. For this break, Second decided to check in with his friends, giving Vic a heads-up of his leave. Well, a heads-up and some encouragement for him to make friends with Chosen and Dark, who (by Second’s standards) seemed like a fun duo to be around.

“...and so I was thinking of setting up a note; block concert. Purp’ has been mailing me constantly about visiting, so this is the perfect opportunity!” Green explained to the others.

“Planning a concert?” Second plopped his head over Blue’s shoulders, who simply patted his head in fondness. The orange teen let his hands fiddle with the boy’s hair, letting his keyboard hover overhead.

“Yeah! I was actually wondering if you guys wanted to join?”

Red passionately raised his hand, “Oh! Oh! Can I have a drum solo!”

“Er– I was thinking this one is a bit more,” Green scratched his cheek, “Classy? Like an orchestra or something?”

“Oh…Uh!” Red’s enthusiasm seems to drain, “Sounds even cooler, man!”

“I’m not sure,” Yellow rubbed his chin in thought, “Adobe is abandoning Flash soon, and I need to start the paperwork alerting the city of our program switch. Not to mention, beefing up our antivirus.”

Green grasped Yellow’s hands in his, “C’mon, Yells’! I never ask you for anything!”

“What? Five minutes ago, you asked me to use the staff to bring you a cookie.”

“We barely spend time together as a whole group anymore! This concert is the perfect chance to make up for lost time” Red jumped in, clinging onto the older boy’s arm. Immediately, he shakes off both of them to cross his arms, but affectionately pat’s the red teen’s head.

Yellow, somehow, looked more stressed than usual,“I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I’ll try to ask K.O. to slow down on the staff lessons.”

“Well we want to hang out now~” Red obnoxiously drags out the last word, “C’mon! You know you want to~”

Green fake sniffles, “Unless you don’t care about us?”

“What? When did I—”

Red flops to the floor and bawls, calling attention to everyone in the room, “Waaagh! Yellow couldn't care less if we DIED! They think we are lowly TRASH and shouldn't speak to them!”

Green smiles and falls to the floor in tears as well, making an effort to wipe his teary face on the bottom of Yellow’s sweater. Yellow flushed a bright red as he attempts to quiet the both of them down, a weird sense of déjà vu creates a shiver down his spine.

“How long do you think Yells’ will last?” Blue glanced up at the younger boy, who had just finished a small braid in his hair.

“2 minutes.”

“Really?” Blue glanced at Red slamming his fists on the floor, “Red amped the puppy eyes up to twelve this time. I give it half that.” Second let out a quiet laugh, hiding part of his face in his scarf. He returns to resting his body weight on Blue’s back, simply enjoying the moment of peace.

“Who are you convincing with this? Stop embarrassing me!” Yellow yells out, backing away from their relentless begging.

“Please~?” Green’s eyes grow wider as he wails into their pants, “I won’t give you back talk for a full day!!”

“Two weeks.” Green grimaced.

“Two days?” He let out a nervous laugh at Yellow’s unamused face, “Three and a half?”

Blue snorts, “C’mon, Yellow. This is the most you’re gonna get from team Dumb and Dumber.”

Second hides another giggle while Yellow rolls his eyes, “Fine. We haven’t come across any viruses that were that harmful, so I suppose it can be put off for a while.”

Green smirks and tosses his arm over Red’s shoulder, “You say ‘Dumb and Dumber’, but fall for it every time!”

“No one ‘falls’ for anything,” Second teases, “We just can’t watch you make a fool of yourself.” He pokes Red’s forehead, causing the teen to stick his tongue out.

“I assume you two are free, then?” Green creepily moves his hands, “Unless you need some convincing from me and Red?”

Blue holds his hands up in surrender, not even wishing to argue with them; However, Second seems to feel otherwise. He pretends to think on their request, tapping his cheek in thought, “I don’t know… I think I might be busy.”

He makes sure to add a winking emoticon at the end of his message before turning around to hide his laughter. Red and Green make eye contact before making their leap to bug Second into agreeing. The trio fall onto the floor in laughter, piling on top of the mute teen.

Blue smiled to himself. Second looked happier than before. Good. His earlier responses created some concern within the group, but maybe there really was no underlying tension beneath. The freckled boy fiddled with one of his earrings. Still, he would keep an eye out. It’s never been more important than ever that he keeps everyone safe.

On the other side of the room, Vic hoped to amend his rocky start with the other two hollow heads. Not only does it benefit his future plans, but having 15-year-olds as his only friends is getting embarrassing. So far, he has completed step one of his long term plan, which is to walk over to the hollow heads. Next, he needed to establish credibility, appeal himself to their likes and values.

“So,” He is sure Chosen hasn’t blinked since he got here, “You two live together ... .Cool. I also live in a house… with people.”

It isn’t a complete lie. The organization is a building he lives in, and the Mercenaries do have their own rooms there. Though, Agent and Hazard are really the only ones that constantly stays in the building with him after hours. Agent said something about making sure he sleeps, or some kind of nonsense like that. While Vic is pretty sure Hazard only stays because they have nowhere else to go.

Chosen squints in confusion, “What?”

“It’s true! I even have things in my house much like yourselves.” Dark slams his head into his palms, perhaps Vic’s small talk is working!

“What do you want, V.” Oh, maybe not.

“Ah, well,” Vic raises his hand to shake their hand, a symbol of peace, “I believe we got off to the wrong start.”

Dark raised an apathetic brow, “You tried to manipulate children?”

Vic awkwardly lowered his hand, “Well, in the grand scheme of things—”

Chosen held up a hand, silencing the other, “I’ll stop you right there. We don’t want to hear your excuses. You need to explain your intentions to Second and his friends and apologize before you even think of talking to us.”

The gray hollow head stays silent, mulling over the requirements set by the others. A flare of embarrassment threatened to show itself, but Vic swallowed it down. Dark rolls his eyes and kicks his feet up on the armrest of the couch, “Piss off, until you apologize, creep.”

“Right, yes. Well I am sorry to disturb you,” He feels himself start to pick at his fingers, “I will be sure to rectify my error.”

As he walks away, he can hear Dark call him a “formal asshole”, making his eyes twitch in anger. Vic takes a deep breath, this time fury attempting to crawl up his throat. Keep it cool, victim. Blowing up at these hypocrites only leads to more issues down the line.

“Did you guys have a good talk?” Second is already resting on the couch by the time he returns. The boy’s hair was messy, even more than usual, yet it added to that endearing charm he seemed to radiate.

“Did we have a good talk? Did you have a good talk? Your hair is a mess.” Second flushed and attempted to tame the strand of hair that stuck out, but only made it worse. The gray hollow head watched the boy struggle for a bit before moving his hands to touch the teen’s head.

“Here, let me.” Vic had seen Primal take care of their curls when taking down their braids, so he had a vague idea on how to help the teen. He was careful to not pull on any knots, and did as best as he could with just his hands.

“You’re really good at this…” Second melted into the feeling of hands running through his head. His eyes drooped as drowsiness tempted him into sleep. “You should teach me sometime…”

“I will have one of my employees teach you, she knows more about this than I do.” Vic pulls away, a neater appointed atop the boy’s head.

“You’re really nice, Mr. V,” Second glanced up to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry you weren’t given a chance. You didn’t deserve that.”

Nice? A lump forms in victim’s throat as he stares at the apologetic look on the boy’s face. How naive is this boy? A sharp pang hits his heart as he quickly turns away. “Don’t apologize, you couldn’t control what he did.” He glances at Chosen from the corner of his eye, “It’s been years, anyway. I’m over it.”

Second brought his legs up to his chest, “Well, you still deserve an apology.”

The teen yawns and cradles his keyboard close to his chest, however, the screen’s two-minute warning jolted him awake. Vic quickly caught the keyboard that had been thrown in the air during the fray before it hit Second’s head.

“Oh, I didn’t get to nap this time.” He gently took the keyboard from the other. The orange hollow head seemed disappointed, but accepting of his situation, as if there was nothing he could do to change it. A strange feeling curls around Vic’s heart as he studies the boy’s expression.

Out of nowhere, he blurts out, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you next break.”

Second stares in shock, but lets a big smile take over his face, “Thanks! I’m glad I have another person to watch my back.”

Vic forces a smile and turns to face the screen. Seriously, what was up with him recently? A sense of guilt weighs down on his shoulders, and he rethinks Second’s words. Stupid boy, show a little caution to strangers like him! Are all teenagers like this?

This time, the cursor is already shown on screen, searching on Google. It waits for the page to load, then summons a chained up Chosen. The stick figure isn’t given much time to stretch, as the mouse carelessly tosses him to the ground.

Dark seethes in his seat, a string of curses lined up in his mind, but falls flat at Chosen’s resigned look. His anger mellows out as he shuffles closer to the black hollow head, reaching for his hand to provide comfort.

“We’ll get back at him, Cho,” He lets his fangs show, “Just follow the plan, right?”

Chosen’s shoulders seemed to drop even more, “Yeah…the plan.”

He chooses to not look up at Dark, leaving him to stare off into the distance. Dark feels his smile drop, replaced with a more confused one. Wasn’t this what they’ve dedicated their lives towards?

Chosen attempts to recover as the mouse loses interest in teasing him. He crawls backwards, away from the cursor, attempting to escape the window screen, but to no avail. Suddenly, a few links catch his eye. They discuss fighting against unfair and cruel treatment towards stick figures. Desperate to learn more, Chosen leaps towards the link.

“How interesting that those links appeared when they did,” Vic thinks aloud.

“Well current web browsers often remember what a user searches to show them what they want,” Yellow rambles on, “Perhaps if a stick figure wants hard enough, it can influence the algorithm!”

“Keep in mind, this was a different era, kid.” Dark crossed his arms, “I don’t think search algorithms were that complex yet.”

“Right,” Yellow flushed in embarrassment, “I got ahead of myself…” “It’s quite alright,” Vic passively comments, “Your theory still helps shed light on the situation. It just needs a bit of guidance.”

The teen nods thankfully at the older man, while Chosen and Dark share a suspicious look. Perfect. Dark supposes he’ll keep an extra eye out. He groans in his hands. Honestly, caring takes too much energy.

Alan seemed startled at the sudden webpage change, and skimmed the short essay displayed on screen.

“There are more sticks trapped?” Red mumbled as he read the article on screen. A nauseous feeling swarmed his stomach as he thought more on the topic, “By cruel creators?”

“Just how many have been hurt to create a resistance movement?” Blue added on as Green comforted the trembling red stick figure.

“More than you think,” Chosen rasped out, “When we first left, we attempted to search out the organization, but…” His eyes began to glaze over. Papers tossed haphazardly to the floor. Doors torn off hinges, accompanying sparking wires dangling from the ceiling.

“No one was there” Dark finishes for him.

“Maybe they escaped and are lying low?” Second optimistically asks, contrasting the tense atmosphere.

“I don’t think so, kid.” A metallic smell permeates his nose, “Not the way we found it.”

Soon after, a pop-up appeared on-screen, promising freedom for anyone who clicked it. The cursor is quick to move the pop-up just out of Chosen’s reach, teasing him a bit before setting it aside. Rather than exit out of the pop-up himself, Alan forces Chosen to burn his chance at freedom in front of his very eyes.

“I didn’t realize how…” Second stared at the screen in disbelief, “mean he was…”

“Mean is an understatement, Sec’,” Green threw his hands up towards the screen, “This? This is cruel.”

“He treats us like toys.” Vic feels an uncomfortable rage wrap around his heart, “Things to experiment with and throw away when bored.”

Second stared dejectedly at his lap. Despite the chords in his heart screaming out to defend his (father) creator, could he really deny all the evidence thrown at his face? Deny the existence of victims that sit barely five feet away from him? This wasn’t his Alan.

This isn’t the Alan that he spent hours talking and drawing with until the sun broke through the window. The Alan that took his side during play fights, giving him any advantage he asked for. Alan taught him about the joys of being loved and loving others. His Alan would never purposefully hurt him. He was sure of it.

Right?

The boy felt his cheeks puff up in determination as he hit the sides of his face, earning a strange look from Vic. No, Second! Have faith in your creator, people change over time. This old, rotten creator wouldn’t have given him his friends back. That has to mean something!

“Are you alright?” The man whispered to Second.

“Yes! I just needed a pep talk!”

Chosen falls to the ground in despair as the mouse watches on in silence. A burst of anger and energy filled the stick figure as he attempted to burn the mouse. When his powers were nullified, Chosen jumped towards physically ripping the mouse to shreds with his own bare hands. Alan panicked and attempted to send Chosen back, but the stick figure had managed to move the mouse to release him, returning him to full power.

“He seems rather worried,” Yellow points out, “Is this the first time you’ve fought back?”

Chosen winced, “It was never this violent, I guess. I was pretty low energy most of the time, so it’s kinda fuzzy.”

Dark felt his stomach churn in disgust, “But you’re only low energy when—”

“It was probably just a burst of anger and adrenaline.” Chosen sent Dark a look telling him to keep quiet.

The red hollow head glares back, “Only when you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Oh.” Second glanced worriedly at him, “There’s probably not a lot of things to eat in that box, huh?”

Chosen glared and attempted to placate the situation, “Yes, but Dark underestimates my energy reserves. It wasn’t as bad as it seems.”

The boy looked unconvinced, but didn’t push the topic any further, to Chosen’s relief. He turns to his roommate, expecting an explanation for the out-of-nowhere pushback.

“They need to know just how horrible he is.” Dark grumbled out. Chosen could practically feel a vein bulge in anger.

“Yes, but that’s not for them to know. They’re just kids.” He urged quietly.

“Kids that are staying with that monster. One that apparently starved you!” Dark glared back in defiance, “Thanks for not telling me that, by the way!”

“What does it matter? It was years ago, and I don’t even think he believed I could feel hunger.”

“Of course it–” Dark threw his hands up in exasperation, “Are you seriously fucking defending him?”

“No, I’m just saying we should be mad at what he knowingly did.”

“Yeah, and what he did was starve you. On purpose or not.” Dark forcefully pokes his chest, “You need to fuckin’ acknowledge that.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Chosen snapped as he pushed Dark’s hand away from him, “Just drop it, okay?”

Dark looked hurt, shoulders drooping in disappointment. With little time to react, Dark turns his back to the stick figure, completely shutting him out.

Chosen stayed silent, as the annoyance in his eyes dissipated, “I know you want to help, and I appreciate that about you,” he places a hand on the other’s shoulder, “But not right now, okay? Not here.”

“Then when?” Dark mumbled, still refusing to turn around.

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ll shut up now, your highness.” Chosen feels his irritation come back tenfold.

“Did I do something to—” Dark feels his right hand twitch.

“Ugh, whatever. I don’t want to argue right now, Cho’.” The black hollow head rolls his eyes, but remains silent.

Chosen releases a wave of power, destroying different parts of the screen before escaping to a new window. He found himself in Microsoft Word and quickly began eating parts of the essay.

“What a hypocrite.” Vic murmured to himself.

Second looked confused, “What?”

“Ah, I didn’t realize I said that aloud.” Vic rests further back in his seat, “His essay discusses how people fail to set aside time to understand art. However, he fails to give any time to understand his creations . ”

“Tell me something we don’t know.” Dark snorts as he kicks his feet up on the couch in front of him.

“Right. Well,” Vic visibly deflates, “It seemed interesting to me.”

“Ah,” Second smiles, “I think your analysis is very cool! It opened up a new perspective I wouldn’t have thought of.”

Dark rolled his eyes, mumbling a low “Kiss ass.” under his breath. Chosen harshly jabs into his ribs along with a look that screamed “Get it together”. Ugh, buzzkill.

“Oh,” Vic looked lost, “You’re welcome?”

While the gray stick figure processed the praise, Second made sure to stick his tongue out towards Dark along with a not so nice finger on his hand. Honestly, people. He was mute, not deaf.

When the cursor moved to attack, Chosen quickly dodged and spat letters at the human. It didn’t take long for the creator to figure out a work-around, as he used the tab key to weaponize different parts of the essay. Chosen, feeling annoyed, used his lasers to burn down the entire essay.

“What do letters taste like?” Blue curiously asks. He had been looking into experimenting with a new dish. (Especially when the others seemed reluctant to taste his nether wart stew!) “They’re like those mystery jelly beans,” Chosen hums in remembrance, “Each letter is a different flavor.”

“Oh how exciting.” The teen did an excited little clap, “Hopefully there are some spare scripts lying around on the desktop! I’ll be cooking up a storm!” The rest of the Colorgang looked queasy, choosing to savor their few hours of freedom before being lab rats for Blue.

“Be careful.” Vic interrupts. Blue and Chosen jolt in surprise, turning their attention towards the older stick. Even Vic himself is shocked at his interruption, but regains composure, “We have already seen the consequences of…his anger.”

The two paused, mulling over the unexpected warning. Blue broke first, letting out a small smile, “Right. Thanks!”

Chosen only nodded, letting his thanks go unspoken. Was Vic trying to be…helpful?

Clippit noticed Alan struggled to stop the stick figure, and offered their assistance, to which Alan agreed. He gave Chosen a warning to stop eating parts of the essay, but the hollow head ignored him. Thus, Clippit attacked with the help of Alan to kill the stick figure

“I’m sorry he treated you like that.” Yellow glances at how quickly the stick figure on screen ate the letters.

Chosen cringed at the pity. Great, this is the last thing he wanted. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t play any role in it.”

Yellow chose to not verbally acknowledge that he knows it's not his fault. But he can’t help but think of his birthday. A day spent under the burning sun as his friends celebrated with games and presents galore. As the time passed by, eventually Alan came by to take them home, each of them with filled bellies and smiles on their faces.

He thinks of his own excitement as Alan helps second replicate the glasses he broke during the final battle with King Orange. He remembers watching in awe, thankful that Second’s creator is so kind.

And then, he watches him kill and imprison sticks.

“Yes, well,” He pushes up his frames, “I’m still sorry.”

As the fight grew more and more intense, Alan left the two to open up a drawing program. He quickly drew a bright red stick figure and converted it to a symbol. He began to name the figure “The Chosen One’s Enemy”, but quickly replaced that with “The Dark Lord”

“Looks like you went through a slight name change as well.” Chosen teases.

“Oh, please. Like it was any better than ‘Beast’” Dark refutes with a playful kick his way, “At least this one says who I was made for.”

Chosen felt his smile twitch, “What?”

“Er, just that I was kinda made to defeat you.” Dark slouches against the couch in jest, “What am I without the oh so powerful Chosen One?”

“The Dark Lord.” The firm tone stunned Dark for a bit, making him sit up in a more rigid pose.

“Uh—Y-yeah? I guess?” Dark scratches the back of his head, “Way to kill the mood, dude.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re The Dark Lord,” Green casually commented, “Having two Chosen’s would be confusing.”

“Would one be named ‘Chosen’ and the other ‘One’?” Second hummed in thought.

“Chosen 1.0 and Chosen 2.0?”

“Wouldn’t we just call him 'enemy’?”

“Yeah, but that’s mean.”

“Not to mention LAME.” Green dramatically tosses his head back, “A name should strike FEAR in an opponent’s soul or at the very least sound cool on a gravestone.”

“And where does ‘Green’ fall into those categories?” Yellow raises an unamused brow.

“I’m a lover, not a fighter!”

Blue snorts, leaning against the arm rest, “You’re an asshole.”

“That too.”

The Dark Lord stretched and looked curiously around at their environment

“Whoa, are we sure that’s you?” Green jokes, “Seems a lil’ too chilled out.”

“Maybe it’s an evil clone?” Blue tagged on, snickering behind his hand. Red hummed in thought before snapping at a new realization.

“Or possession!”

“That’s a good one.”

Yellow sent an unamused glance their way, wiping their smile off of their faces. “Stop goofing around guys,” They crossed their arms, “Besides, this is obviously an alternative universe.”

Like clockwork, their grins reappeared, “I knew you were cool underneath all that nerd, Yells’!”

“ I’m always cool,” they push their glasses up, “You just never noticed.”

“I am not afraid to fight children.” Yet, despite all his annoyance, a smile twitched onto Dark’s face.

Alan switches to a new tab, one that has never been shown before, and proceeds to code the newly born stick figure to destroy The Chosen One. Once the creator hits enter, the stick figure takes on a more familiar, chaotic attitude.

“So your purpose is to destroy your friend?” victim asked bluntly, “How peculiar.”

“Haah? That was years ago. Besides, That’s not even how code works.” Dark lazily crones, though a small prick of worry leaves him alert.

“Are you sure?” He presses on, “Sometimes it manifests in different ways. Code is almost impossible to break from.”

“Y-Yeah of course,” Dark nervously glances at Chosen, “I guess nothing is impossible to me.”

“Are you sure? My organization has methods that can ensure—”

Before he could respond, Chosen interrupted, “He said yes.”

victim felt a bit of frustration, “I wasn’t asking you. Unfulfilled code can be—”

“What is your problem? Did we do something to you?”

“I am trying to get information that could help your vulgar, little friend.” Vic felt his buried rage bubble to the surface. “Can you try to let me finish a sentence before you go barking at me like a rabid dog?”

“Guys….” Second attempted to intervene.

“Really? It sounds like you’re trying to create a problem that isn’t there.”

“Are you serious?” Vic stood to better confront Chosen, “A pig could understand he’s struggling with something.”

“Please don’t fight right now.” Blue attempted to tame the tension in the room, only to get ignored. Second felt his eye twitch in irritation.

“What are you trying to say?” Chosen took a step closer to the man.

“Nothing.” victim sneered, “Just that you aren’t as clever as those news articles make you out to be.”

Chosen yanked the man forward by his collar, slightly choking him in his grasp. The gray hollow head steadied his glare, refusing to look away.

“Whoa, maybe we need to take some time away—” Blue is thrown to the ground the moment he attempts to separate the two. The teen lets out a quiet wince, landing painfully on his wrist.

“Are you serious? STOP.” The text box creates a barrier between the two, forcing them to separate. Second checked on Blue, who gave him a thankful thumbs up, before turning his attention to the two adults in the room.

“Do you guys consider anyone outside yourselves?” The teen sent an incredulous glare, “I don’t care what you do to each other, but don’t drag my friends into your stupid quarrel!”

Second rolled his strangely green eyes as he walked away with Blue in tow, “It’s like talking to children!”

“There, there.” Blue coaxingly patted the others back as he waved his keyboard around in anger.

Chosen’s shoulders drooped in shame. How could he let his emotions get the best of him? He was sure he was well past those brash days. He buries himself in his hands, groaning at the thought of apologizing to Dark for his outburst. Where was he even? He usually jumps at the chance to argue.

Chosen glanced up from his hands, scanning the room cautiously as a sense of dread crawls up his spine. Dread turned to guilt as soon as he laid his eyes on Dark. The man, who was always a pillar of reassurance for him, looked pale as he clawed at his chest. He refused to look up, sitting slouched against the cheap leather. Red and Yellow were at his side, attempting to calm him down, but to no avail.

His calmed anger shot up tenfold. He snaps his head over to Vic, finding his rage fueled further by the stick figure’s apathetic expression. With one deep breath, he stormed his way over to Vic,

“I let you get away with a lot of shit because of what happened between you and Noogai,” He forcefully pokes the man’s chest, “But I’m done. Don’t even try to give whatever half-assed apology you concocted in your brain. I won’t let you hurt anyone else here.”

The gray stick figure remained silent as he watched Chosen storm off, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Vic cursed under his breath. So much for trying to help out.

The situation hadn’t improved at all by the time Chosen had arrived, and the teens gave the two space to figure out the issue at hand. Though, they give one last worried glance at the red hollow head. His eyes dart around as he attempts to keep a smile on his face, however, the sickly pale look detracts from any comfort he was looking to give.

“Dark,” Chosen places a firm hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“Shit, yeah, of course I am.” He gives Chosen a toothy grin, “You worried about lil’ old me?”

Chosen keeps that hand on his shoulder, making his grin drop. A lump forms in his throat as his leg bounces up and down. C’mon, just leave already! He already said he was fine, let’s move on! Let the tape play. Why isn’t the tape playing?

“Yes, I am. You aren’t acting like yourself.”

Great, here comes Chosen’s ‘holier than thou’ act. How would he even know how he acts! He’s always cooped up in their room while Dark takes care of all the work. Seriously, he should have rotted in that dumb box if he was just going to trap himself in a different one as soon as they left.

Dark began to hit his head in thought, causing Chosen to jolt in surprise. “Hey, hey, hey—Stop that,” Chosen grabs his wrists, “What’s wrong? What's the problem?”

What is he saying? Chosen gave him a second chance at life! He’s going through his own struggles and all Dark can think about is making fun of him? How has Chosen not left him yet? He’s a horrible person. A bad omen. A parasite infecting Chosen’s happiness.

“Dark?”

The man lets out an uncharacteristic whimper as he squeezes his eyes shut. His senses jump into overdrive as more and more thoughts cloud his mind. Pull it together, Dark. You’re better than this. He needs you to be strong. His right-hand twitches.

“Dark?”

He’s so selfish. Chosen doesn’t need him. Dark’s suffocating him, trapping him with him and that stupid mission statement. He’s endangering the only person who can put up with him. How much did that little line influence him?

“Dark.” The teens had made their way over after hearing all the commotion.

Who was he without it? Would Chosen like him better without it? Did Chosen know? God, Dark wanted to strangle him until he told him something, anything. Why is he always in the dark?

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Chosen slowly moves to put his hand on the red stick figure’s back in an attempt to soothe whatever thoughts troubled his mind.

However, the twitch in his hand comes back stronger than ever and clamps around Chosen’s arm. His claws dig into the other hollow head’s wrist, drawing blood. Chosen hisses in pain as he yanks his hand back, creating five lengthy cuts along his forearm. Dark almost immediately sobers up, staring in horror at the injury.

“Fuck, I’m sorry– I didn’t–I don’t–” Chosen takes a step away from Dark, cradling his injured arm. Dark’s shoulders drop in guilt as he stares down his bloodied hand. The twitch is gone.

“Are you okay?” Yellow asks in concern as he rushes over to inspect the wound. “You’re going to need stitches for that…”

Chosen pulls his arm away from the stick figure’s grasp, seemingly more focused on Dark than anything else, “It’s nothing. It’ll heal.”

“Yes, but it will heal better if you let one of us wrap it,” Blue pushes the other to sit down away from the chaos, “It won’t take long at all, we have tools on hand to—”

“I need to talk to him.” Chosen attempted to get up again, “Please.”

Blue stared at the desperation in the man’s eyes and frowned. After a few minutes of contemplation, he moves out of the way, “I’m not your parent, dude.”

Chosen nodded in appreciation before approaching his friend. He wasn’t completely sure what to say. They just understood each other. It’s just their thing. Chosen needs to leave a conversation? Here comes Dark to create some ridiculous excuse about feeding their pet spider. Dark needs an alibi for the destruction of a military base? Chosen has years of security footage proving the stick figure was filing taxes in a park.

Yet, for the first time in his life, he can’t figure Dark out. Gone was the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed teen he escaped with all those years ago. Gone was the passionate roommate who raved about the smallest thing during days when he could barely get out of bed. All that’s left is this stranger wearing his skin. Chosen feels his lips twitch, he just wanted things to make sense.

He walked cautiously to his friend, careful to not startle the man. Dark was still hunched over, hiding himself from the other people in the room. Without saying a word, he shuffled away from the approaching black hollow head, curling further in on himself. Chosen hesitated, of course, before lightly touching the other’s hair with his good hand.

He kept his voice low, in the same scratchy voice he always had, “Please help me understand.”

Dark didn’t immediately respond. That’s fine, sure. Chosen can work with silence. “Is it something I did? I’m sorry if I’ve been hard to deal with–”

“I hurt you.” Dark quietly interrupts. He doesn’t look up.

“What?” a slight laugh came through in his speech, “D, you know I don’t care about—”

“I only hurt you. I keep hurting you.”

“What?” The smile dropped off his face immediately.

“You’re always so…” Dark glances up at the man, “sad.”

Another wave of guilt hits the black hollow head, “That isn’t your fault, and it’s not your responsibility.” He pushes his bangs back, “.” I need to work on these things by myself.”

“You don’t get it.” his lips tremble, All I know is you“What am I without you? I need to be there for you! I have to!”

Dark collapses into the black hollow head’s chest, tightly gripping onto the jacket. He slightly trembles as Chosen’s hands hover in shock, “Please keep me around. ‘m, sorry. I don’t know how to stop being me.”

Dark freezes as he feels Chosen pull him into a tight hug. His eyes prick with tears as Chosen’s heartbeat clears his head. Those familiar, rough hands comb through his hair, melting away his worries

“Please. Don’t ever stop being you,” He brings the other’s hands to his chest, “I don’t know what Vic said to get to you—”

Just like that, his heart drops to his feet. Dark looks desperately in Chosen’s eyes, his claws nip nervously at the other’s jacket, “But I—”

“But whatever that stupid code told you to do isn’t your fault. It probably died out the moment the computer was destroyed.” The black hollow head reasons.

“I am never going to leave you over such a small thing. He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

“Yeah…” Guilt swarmed Dark’s chest at Chosen’s relieved expression, “Yeah… V knows jack shit.” The man let off a nervous smile.

“Yeah.” Despite the reassuring smile on his face, Chosen still felt something wasn’t quite right with his friend. Before he could speak up, Dark interrupted him.

“Ah, I ruined your jacket,” Dark hides his hands behind his back, “I’ll make sure to fix it when we get home.” Right, he still had an open wound. He supposes even his more passive abilities were paused in the showroom.

“Are you…” Chosen felt lost, “Okay? I don’t care about this dumb jacket. I just want to make sure you’re—”

“Wow, I should apologize to the lil’ gremlins,” Dark takes a wide step back, “Didn’t mean to freak out on them, haha.”

“Wait, don’t—” Dark had already left, “Leave. Shit.”

He didn’t want to move on, to forget that moment of vulnerability, but what could he do? Dark seemed more closed off than ever and for the first time in his free life, he couldn’t understand him. Ugh, he just wanted to go home.

“Ready to be treated?” Chosen flinched as Blue seemingly appears out of nowhere. An unusually bright red drink simmered in the teen’s hands accompanying their unusually bright smile.

“Uh, sure,” he takes a hesitant step back, “Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Oh! Right,” Blue hits his head in revelation, “Well, we figured a health pot would be quicker! It should stitch you right back up!” Blue held out the glass bottle, and with some hesitation, chugged the bottle down.

“Tastes strange, but not bad.” The black stick figure glanced down to see his skin meld itself back together, replicating the effect of his innate regeneration. He glanced down at the bottle in interest. It wouldn’t be the worst idea to have a few of these around the house.

“That’s good. We weren’t sure how it would affect sticks who haven’t interacted with Minecraft, so it’s good you didn’t explode or something!” Blue smiled and gave a firm pat on the back before walking off. Chosen feels his stomach churn. Maybe he should wait a bit before asking for more.

“Right…”.

Alan copies and pastes the newly formed stick figure into the WordPress Doc. By this point, Chosen had won against Clippit who was nothing more than a tangled ball of aluminum. Dark seemingly yells out to Chosen, challenging him to a battle. The black stick figure, confused, looks around as Dark sends out a powerful Screen-quake.

“Ah! All the action happened off-screen!” Red drooped in disappointment, “This is the worst!”

“Well, at least we get to see two super-sticks fight?” Blue attempted to comfort.

Younger groaned, “Bah! I guess.” He slumped in his seat, “This is more like watching a code herobrine rather than a good, fair fight!”

“Ah,” Blue paused in thought, “I suppose I understand.”

“Sorry, a code what?” Dark murmured out. He made sure to keep his distance from Chosen despite his hand being suspiciously still. He wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Herobrine!” Second comments helpfully, “It’s a code we call when we suspect an outside force is influencing one of us.”

“Ah, of course.” Dark winces.

“How often does this happen for there to be a code word?” Vic stared incredulously

The color gang sent a collective look towards Red, who had the decency to at least look ashamed, “Eh, more often than you think.”

“Especially when the vessel has an IQ of 3” Green teases, poking the boy in his side. Red yelps covering his side in embarrassment and sending out a forceful kick towards the taller teen’s face. His headphones go flying as he falls off the couch.

“Ugh, and the strength of a Warden…” He complains, lying on the floor in pain.

Dark doesn’t let up in his attacks, sending fireball after fireball towards Chosen. The black hollow head skillfully weaves through the flames, quickly picking up one of the opened menus during the battle.

“You really like explosions…” Second stares in awe.

“Eh, they’re pretty easy to produce.” Dark shrugs, “I’m more of a hands-on combatant anyway.” The man sends out a flurry of fake punches to emphasize his point.

“You just don’t like practicing.” Chosen rolls his eyes, “These abilities could save your life one day, you know?”

“I'll leave all the power-shmower jumbo to you.” Dark nonchalantly waves off, “You’ll have my back when the time’s right, anyway.”

“I assume you’re more power oriented then?” victim looks strangely blank, leading Chosen to hesitate before answering. Was this a new persona to scheme his way into their good graces? Typical.

“… Yeah.” The black stick figure crosses his arms, “Doesn’t mean I’m hopeless without them, though.”

As Dark pauses to change his strategy, Chosen takes this opportunity to break the menu over the stick figure’s head, stunning him.

Dark feels his guilt worsen. He deserves far worse than a simple hit over the head. Leaning on the armrest, he groans. Ugh, he really needed to take a walk or something.

“Hey, it’s in the past.” Chosen carefully leans into Dark’s personal space, “Remember? The code was removed by the whirlwind.”

“... Yeah,” The hollow head glances subtly at Vic, “A whirlwind.”

The gray stick figure could only listen in silent disgust. Is that the lie they’ve told themselves? Fine, let themselves blind themselves with a happy ending. He crosses his arms in frustration. The one time he offers some good will, it gets thrown right back in his face. Why does he even try? Honestly, this is the last time he sticks his neck out for another stick.

“Are you okay?” Second types in small text, watching as his seatmate became more and more irate.

Well, maybe the second to last time.

“I’m fine,” He waits a bit before continuing, “Thank you for asking.”

The two continue to trade blows back and forth, eventually destroying the document beyond repair. Just before Dark could land another hit on him, Chosen threw the cursor to the minimize button, changing the tab. The two ended up in a solitaire game, and it didn’t take long for them to begin tossing cards back and forth.

Alan seemed disinterested in their fight, constantly returning the cards to their original placement. After the two had destroyed his previous game, Alan chose to move them to the home screen. He made sure to gently place Dark down before haphazardly tossing Chosen on his face.

“He shows quite a bit of care towards you.” Vic glanced over his shoulder

“It’s more so he wanted me to follow his orders rather than actually caring.” Dark complained.

“Still, he hasn’t been overly malicious.” Vic crosses his arms, “Yet, you’re the angriest one here.”

“Uh, did you miss the part where he tormented my friend?” Dark dryly states. “Am I not supposed to be angry?”

“Still, all this for one stick figure—”

“Cho’ is not just any stick figure.” Dark glares, “Seriously, is your end goal to piss everyone off? Why are you even here?” Just as the words exit his mouth, he feels a pang of guilt, but pushes it to the side. It’s not like any of them will interact after this stupid viewing.

“I didn’t ask to be here.” A flicker of hurt appeared on Vic’s face before quickly being covered up with annoyance. He keeps his gaze steady as he engages in a tense staring contest. They want a bad guy? victim will show them a bad guy, alright.

“Okaaay, let’s chill out before someone says something they regret.” Second’s pauses, rethinking his words, “Or, well, say something they’ll regret more.”

“Right,” Vic looks away, “My apologies.”

“Ugh, sorry again, kid.” Second looked unamused.

“Aren’t you apologizing to the wrong person?”

“I would rather claw my eyes out with a rusty fork than apologize to that pompous asshole.”

“Despite the vulgarity, I have to agree.” Second rolls his eyes. Children. The lot of them.

The duo continued their fight, and Dark had even brought in back up to take the black stick figure down. The desktop icons proceeded to gang up on Chosen, attacking him on all sides. Despite all his effort to take them down, eventually, the icons managed to gain the upper hand, holding him down and raining down attacks.

“You and these icons, man.” Green shakes his head. “Does every application attack you, or is this just an Alan thing?”

Chosen shrugs, “I haven’t been on anyone’s personal computer besides his, so I have no clue.”

“It’s probably by the will of the user,” Second thinks carefully, “The icons were pretty friendly on Alex’s computer!”

“Ah, right!” Red snaps his finger in agreement.

“Who?” Blue questions in concern, “When did either of you go to a different PC?”

“Where did you think the other Minecraft application came from?” Red states plainly. The rest of the teens stare in shock. Even Green, who always had something to say, had nothing to say.

“It was just another human we met in the game. We uh—” Second looks nervous before typing the rest of his message, “Kinda stole their version?”

“Nice.” Dark snickered.

“WHAT.” Yellow practically fell off the couch, “That is extremely dangerous! Who KNOWS what could’ve happened to you?”

“Is it really that big of a deal?”

Yellow sputters in disbelief as Blue takes over the conversation, “What Yellow is trying to say is that we don’t know how death works outside of Alan’s PC. “

“Oh.” Red and Second glanced at each other as they registered their prior situation

“‘Oh.’ is right.” Yellow put his hands on his hips, “You’re lucky this ‘Alex’ didn’t view you two as a threat.”

“So…” Blue felt a migraine creep up as soon as the red teen opened his mouth, “If we hypothetically travel there without telling anyone to explore…”

Yellow wanted to cry.

“That’s a bad idea?” Second finished for him.

Green pauses, registering the tomfoolery at hand, and throws his head back in a laugh, “Who knew you guys had jokes!” Red avoids eye contact, leading his laughter to fade off, “Oh my Adobe, you guys are serious.”

“I said hypothetically!” Red frantically attempts to calm the situation at hand.

“Aw! We got a couple of rule breakers~” Dark teases, leaning over the back of the couch to poke Second’s cheek, “Talk about a rebellious phase!” “Dark, please do not bully a child.”

“What’s that? Bully a child? You know me so well, Cho’.” Second swats at the older stick’s hand. When that method failed, he resorted to gnawing the man’s hand off. “Ow! The fucker bites!”

“Alan’s going to kill you guys when he finds out,” The adults in the room go eerily still, but the teens ignore it.

“What! C’mon, don’t snitch, Green!” Second shoots up in worry, “You owe me for burying Bob!”

“I’ll make it up to you another day, tangerine,” Green shrugs, “But this is serious. You two could’ve gotten really hurt without any of us knowing.”

“So killing them is the solution to that?” Chosen stands protectively in front of Second, “I don’t see how they would understand the lesson through that.”

Green hummed in interest, watching their movements carefully. Blue, ever the pacifist, attempts to step in front of the teen in order to defuse the situation, “I think there’s been a miscommunication here!” They frantically wave their hands back and forth, “No one is dying!” “Well…” Green teasingly trails off. “Not. Helping.” Yellow comes from behind to hit the boy on his head.

“You never let me have any fun,” Green sticks his tongue out, “They’ll be fine. The worst they’ll get is a travel ban for a week or two~”

“What! But I still need to gather nine thousand more eggs!” Red whines, tugging on Blue’s pants.

“What? Why do you need so many eggs?” The teen skeptically asked, gently prying the younger off his clothes. Red jolts before turning his head in innocence.

“Who needs nine thousand eggs? I sure don’t! Haha!” The boy even adds on a fake whistle in an attempt to sell his story. Blue sends him a disapproving look, leading him to whistle even louder.

“A travel ban?” Vic asks, bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand, “He restricts your movement?”

“Uh, isn’t that the meaning of ‘travel ban’? Being banned from travel?” Green snarkily says.

Yellow rolls his eyes before clarifying, “Think of it like grounding. They stay on the desktop while the rest of us have our fun outside.”

“I see.” Dark growls. So the bastard didn’t stop at Cho’. What was he expecting? He glances at his partner, who looked deathly still. His typical neutral expression twisted into fury as he glared down at the floor.

Second pokes his head around Chosen’s body, stumbling to make sure his text box is seen, “Hm, I guess it isn’t the worst thing ever. I could always catch up on some sleep!”

Chosen’s head snapped towards the boy at a breakneck pace, “Not even the worst?”. He stares intensely at Second. The idea that “He’s done worse to you?” goes unspoken.

“You don’t want to know...” The black hollow balls his fist, staring in disbelief at the aloof confession. He turns to Second’s friends, and the realization only gets worse. Noogai would torment children that care so earnestly for each other? He would really torture a boy that hadn’t even lost the baby fat on his face?

“What the fuck…” Dark mumbled, coming to the same realization Chosen had. He took a good look at each teen’s face, and the more he looked, the angrier he felt. He needed to get back to his lab immediately. This asshole is going to beg him for mercy. He’s going to stare at each face he’s hurt and beg them for mercy. For the first time, Dark feels his left-hand jerk.

Vic stands still. Then he moves. He ignores Dark’s shouts of protest and Chosen’s intense glare. He pushes past them, to put a hand on Second’s shoulder, startling the boy. His friends look tense, the yellow one even pulling out that mysterious staff they kept close to them at all times.

“You are not going back there.” And just like that, the tension bleeds out of the room. However, Vic continues in his declaration, “I will find somewhere for you and your friends to go, but it can not be that place.” He spits out the final word as if it was poison on his tongue.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to agree.” Dark lightheartedly added on. Though, there was a certain kind of intensity behind his words that detracted from the goofy tone.

“Really? Sweet!” Red cheerfully pumps his fists into the air. He would take no punishment anytime of the year! Yellow sighs and gently lowers the red stick figure’s hand.

“Well, as nice as that is, the situation is a lot more complicated than just packing up and going.” He shrugs, as if there was nothing he could do, “We were assigned specifically to Alan’s computer. To have an assignment change for all four of us requires a lot of time and money, which we don’t have.”

“Not to mention, Second’s file is stored on his computer,” Blue shakes his head, “Just isn’t worth the risk.” Red and Second can handle a week or two of grounding. They’ll have each other to keep them company. Not to mention, as much as Blue doesn’t want to see them punished, it’s deserved for risking their lives for a short burst of satisfied curiosity.

“Don’t worry though!,” Green swings his arm around Red’s shoulder, “I’ll make sure to keep these goobers safe!”

Vic stared helplessly at the teens before turning to Second, who could only shrug. The boy sent a bright, close-eyed smile before texting, “Don’t worry! I can handle a few days of boredom.”

Perhaps in a show of strength, Second flexes his arm, though his sweater made it hard to see if there was any movement. Concern swarmed the gray hollow head’s mind, but it soon turned into bitter acceptance. Of course, there’s nothing he can do. He’s still powerless, little victim. Always watching. Always waiting. Never doing. And now all he can do is watch his brother Second walk right back into Becker’s hands.

His arm droops to his side. Always Becker. Always ruining Vic’s life. Ruining other people’s lives because he can. victim’s stomach churns. No one would be free until Alan is gone.

Permanently.

Without saying another word, the man returned to his seat, confusing the rest of them. Green hummed in thought before an amused smirk made its way onto his face, “Well, that was productive!” He clapped, “Anyone else got any protective instincts they want to get out now?”

Chosen began to open his mouth before being interrupted by the teen, “No? Great! Seats, everyone!”

Red snickered while dragging the rest of the Color gang to their seats. However, just before Second left to join Vic, Green pulled him off to the side. The lanky teen leaned down, covering their faces as he began his questioning, “Are you being vague on purpose?”

“What?” Second shrunk his text down before anyone else could read it, “What do you mean?”

Green’s grin grew larger and leaned further in, “Seriously? We really need to up your awareness, stat. All that sleeping has got you lacking~”

The shorter boy furrowed his brows and pushed Green’s face away from his, “Don’t make that expression. You’re creeping me out, man.” “What were you thinking of when you thought of ‘worse punishment’?”

“What does that–”

“Just answer!”

“I don’t know! The time I had to animate all those in-between frames with you guys having a concert in the background,” Second glared, “Thanks for that by the way.”

“Much obliged, my dear clementine! But all I can say is that they,” He subtly points to the other Hollow Heads, “Were definitely not thinking of that.”

“Then what were they thinking?” Second asked concerned. The last thing he wanted to do was cause more confusion than needed.

“No clue, but it likely wasn’t pretty.” Green shrugged, causing the other to wince, “I wouldn’t worry, though. I don’t think it’ll have any long term effects.”

“Right, well, thanks for telling me.” He brought his hand to his chin, “I’ll figure it out if it begins to spiral.”

“Any time, Silver!”

Second paused in confusion, “What?”

“Like, ‘second’ place? Silver? Silver Medal?” Green awkwardly looked away, “Tough crowd.”

“How many of these nicknames do you have lined up?”

“Too many.”

In a burst of strength, Chosen threw the icons off of him, even getting the jump on Dark and throwing him into a game of minesweeper. Dark huffs in frustration, but before he could run back to the fight, a face at the top of the game went sour, alerting him of a mine. While Dark adjusted to his situation, Chosen was playfully defeating each icon.

By the end, Firefox was the last icon standing, and Chosen was riding them like it was a rodeo.

“You’re a lot more playful than you seem.”

“I was still pretty young back then.”

“Ah? Like how old?”

“I would say like 18 or 19?” Chosen shrugs, “It’s been awhile since this has happened.”

“Er…how old are you now?”

“24”

“Damn.” Green blurted out unexpectedly.

“What? That’s pretty young!” Chosen felt a ping of irritation strike his body.

“Did you meet the dinosaurs?” Red leaned over Green to ask the older stick figure.

“No, what?”

“Ah! You must have been there when ping pong was created” Blue snapped his fingers.

“Did you write your will yet?” Yellow quickly followed up.

“?”

“Slow it down! 24 is not old!” The teens seem unconvinced, “It isn’t!”

A rip of laughter breaks through Chosen’s flustered rant, causing him to look over. Dark, lacking his previous miserable aura, curled up on the couch covering his mouth with his hand.

“Sorry, sorry,” Another laugh escapes his hand, “Continue…”

A fond smile eases its way on Chosen’s face, before a devious thought pops into his head, “Well, although I am old…”

“He admits it!”

“Vic is far older,” The glare the gray hollow head sent his will forever cements itself as Chosen’s favorite memory, “The senile old man practically lived when humans first found out about ‘Hello World’.”

The teens flood Vic with questions, who stood stiffer than a statue. Dark smiles harder as the older man barely gets a sentence out before being interrupted by another question.

“You,” Dark wipes a tear from his eye, “Sadist.”

“I’ve been in this game longer than you think.” Chosen’s prideful side eye causes Dark to roll his eyes.

“Whatever you say, old man.”

Eventually, Chosen sent the fox flying into the minesweeper tab, creating a chain reaction of explosions. Dark, caught in the crossfire, laid semiconscious in the corner.

The Dark Lord raises his hands in surrender, but trembles as Chosen approaches. Rather than end his life, Chosen offers his hand out to the red hollow head. He signals for them to team up against Alan, who had continued playing his solitaire game while the others fought to near-death.

A bitter resentment washed over Dark. Of course, Becker would leave him to die. Why wouldn’t he? “I hate him so much.”

“I know.” Chosen comforts.

“I didn’t disobey him.” His claws dig into the couch.

“I know.”

“Why didn’t he save me?” This time, Chosen paused his back rub.

“I don’t know.”

The room kept silent, allowing Dark to simmer in his anger. Vic couldn’t help but feel pity for the ratty thing. To fully accept one was just a tool to be used isn’t easy. The man hummed. Only another reason to continue his path of justice.

Dark punches his palm in agreement, taking Chosen’s hand in acceptance. A white light surrounded them both, and it seemed they had gained an immense power boost.

“What the hell, did you guys just get even more powerful?” Green deadpanned. The previous tension in the room eases as the teens snicker at the blunt comment.

Dark hesitates before a cocky smirk appears on his face, “Yeah, we’re just that good.”

“The power of friendship wins again!” Second jokes.

The two go on a destructive spree, taking down everything in their way. Alan, in an attempt to stop the two, tries to turn off his computer, but the window is quickly destroyed by Chosen.

“Woo-hoo!” Red leaps up, his cheers encouraging the others to celebrate with him. “Beat his ass!”

“Hey, watch the language.” Yellow leaned against Blue’s shoulder.

“Fuck ‘im up!” Green commented, making sure to stick his tongue out at Yellow to add salt in the wound.

“I don’t understand why you expect anything different.” Blue smiled, comforting a defeated Yellow.

“This brings back good memories,” Chosen smiled to himself.

“It brings back GREAT memories.” Dark threw his arm over Chosen’s shoulder with a toothy grin on his face. The black stick figure didn’t bother to push down the wide, content smile on his face.

Dark paused, staring in awe, before his chest swelled up in pride. That was all him. He put that smile on his face. He caused the Chosen One to smile. Not that goody-two shoes version of himself. It was him.

“Mhm,” Chosen nodded, “I’m eager to explore our new start.”

“I’ll even plan the next raid!” Dark excitedly grabbed both of Chosen’s shoulder’s, pushing the man closer to his face, “It’ll be my treat!”

“Yes,” Chosen’s smile strains, “Can’t wait.”

The two come together in the sky to form a whirlpool of chaos, sucking in everything in the area. Alan desperately holds his computer icon from being destroyed in the typhoon, too much success.

“Aren’t your files stored there?” Yellow questioned, “Shouldn’t this like…kill you?”

“Well,” Dark thought further on the question, “Yeah? Technically?”

“If I had to suspect anything to change that,” Vic crossed his legs, “I believe it would be the previous white light.” “What, like it granted them immortality?” Green attempted to clarify. Chosen had tensed as soon as the man opened his mouth, but chose not to interrupt his theorizing.

“Talk about badass!” Red gushes in excitement.

“Most likely. Most, if not all, attacks damage a creation’s core file. Enough damage can lead to file corruption, making whatever software it’s stored on read that file as a virus and delete it.” Yellow elaborates. The idea was fascinating to consider.

“Since these two apparently don’t have one anymore, technically they can’t be deleted like most beings can.” Vic’s eyebrows raise in interest, “Fascinating to consider all the possibilities of living without fear of death.”

“Pump the brakes, V. Getting a bit too creepy for my right hook here.” Dark hostility grunts out. He was getting real sick of this old man’s mouth.

Dark and Chosen disperse from their newly formed white dot with a high-five. At first, it does nothing, then a blast of light erupts, destroying the entire home screen and even cracking the window display. The computer then sends the blue screen of death, signaling the complete destruction of Alan’s computer.

“Did you guys just….die?” Red stared at the screen.

“They’re sitting right across from you, Red.”

“Okay, well—-” He raised his hands in confusion, “Vic is sitting right next to Sec’ and we watched him literally DIE. No offense.”

Vic shrugged in apathy.

“Eh, we figured it out.” Dark mischievously teased, “Sorry, minion. A magician never reveals his tricks.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets” The teen hissed out, turning playfully away from them. Chosen couldn’t help but laugh a little, causing the already red teen to further huff in embarrassment.

“Either way, I’m really happy you guys got to escape!” Second smiled with a bitter twang, “You get to live free of him.”

“I’m glad too, pipsqueak. Freedom had never tasted so sweet” The red hollow head grins, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Second squawks in surprise and uses one hand to push Dark away (or at least try), “Hey! Vic worked hard on my hair! Watch the goods!”

Dark’s smile turned into a grin as he fell over the couch to get a better angle at nooging the teen, “O?h V worked on this? That’s even better!”

Vic, initially startled at Second’s mentioning of him, rolled his eyes at the man’s childish antics. He was touched that the teen valued his shoddy cosmetology, “Don’t worry about the man child. We can fix it while you nap.”

“Who’re you callin’ a man child!?” Dark barked out, pausing in his playful assault. Second quickly scrambled out of his grasps and behind the gray stick figure, protecting his head as he left.

“You, Dark.” Chosen dryly states, playfully kicking his back, “What is up with you and trying to beat up kids?”

“What!” Dark exclaims in fake offense, “That little asshole has been taunting me all day! Look at those beady lil’ eyes!”

Second blinked.

“Evil lies behind that gaze, Cho’! Straight. Evil.”

Chosen stared at Dark, then Second, and then Dark again before slamming his fist against Dark’s skull. The hollow head hissed in pain as he immediately covered the spot in habit. Before Dark could complain, Chosen crossed his arms, “Please don’t say such insane things in public again. You’re giving me a bad name.”

“As bad of a name as ‘Beast’?”

“Stop it.” And yet, despite all his annoyance. Chosen smiled. And Dark smiled right back at him.

And everything was okay.

Chapter Text

Unlike all the times before, the screen lit up with a blaring red message, “Per an upcoming intermission, no break shall occur. Thank you for your patience.”

The group glanced at each other before shuffling back to their seats. Vic bit his thumb, “Intermission? Not a dismissal?”

“So there’s more crappy videos to sift through?” Dark rolled his eyes, “Boring~!”

The video opens with Alan animating a familiar Orange stick figure. To his right, a Facebook chat box pings.

“Ah! It’s you and your big head, Second!” Green teased.

“You’re one to talk—“ Red coughed out.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Haha…” Red murmured, “Big head.”

“Ah, this is a bit after he started animating me!!” Second excitedly pointed out to Vic, “I’m surprised they didn’t show the very start.”

“Yes, yes,” Vic waved the excited teen off, “ I’m watching the same video you are. Though what do you mean by ‘after’?”

Second paused, his excitement muting. Cautiously, the boy typed the following words: “Well, Alan started working on me a day or two before this video. However, he kept getting distracted, so he didn’t progress much.”

Chosen and Dark looked at the stick’s sudden change in demeanor. “Did anything happen during those days?” Chosen slowly said.

“Not that I can remember,” Second smiled lightly. “Sorry, those days were kind of a blur!”

“Right.” Dark decidedly responded.

The camera pans down to show Alan complaining about getting a new computer because of two of his wild creations.

Dark and Chosen share a satisfied look.

A woman’s voice can be heard in the background, calling for Alan. He sends a quick text before walking away from his computer.

Second, he cautiously steps down from the animating software, curiously glancing around the window. They take a few cautious steps forward, peaking into a new tab, but the sound of the door makes them jolt. They scramble to get back in position before the man notices a difference.

The air stilled. “Why did you hide?” Blue carefully asked, glancing at the teen across the room.

“Well,” the textbox staggered in thought. “There wasn't really a reason. Just scared of getting caught, I guess?”

Vic stared, slightly leaning towards the boy, “Scared?”

Second, squirming under the tense atmosphere, responded, “I don’t know. It was like…I knew something bad would happen if he saw me.” A knot began to form in his stomach. “Can we just keep watching?”

“But—“

“Please?” Despite his sad expression, the text seemed firmer in its request.

The older, gray stick figure wanted to push more, unbothered by the boy’s puppy eyes. However, after carefully considering the protective glare in the room, he ultimately decided that it would be safer to inquire about the issue in private.

Alan sighed and quickly typed out a goodbye message to his friend before leaving for much longer, presumably. The moment he left, he dropped out of his position, exhausted yet excited.

With a sense of familiarity, he jumped into the next tab, hopping onto the message tab before hitting a new tab.

In this new tab, all that was present was a bright, white apartment complex. A blue stick figure burst through one of the doors in a fighting stance. Second takes a step back before covering his head in fear.

“Aw, were you scared~” Red teased.

Second couldn’t help but cover their face in embarrassment: “You guys would do the same thing if a strange stick came up threatening you! I thought I was the only one on the computer!”

“Strange stick?” Green snorts, “Hear that, blue? You’re quite a strange-looking stick.”

“Wait! That’s not what I meant!” Second waved his hands around, seemingly mortified.

“I don’t know…” Red tapped his chin in thought, “That’s what I heard.”

Blue wanted to scold the duo, but couldn’t help the slight hint of satisfaction at seeing their hollow friend fluster so easily. The trio continued to squabble over nothing.

It’s been a while since they’ve seen Second act his age. Recently, the boy seemed to run ragged, attempting to mediate the conflict between the rest of the hollowheads.

He doesn’t think handling the trauma of emotionally repressed adults was on any of the color gangs’ wishlists (they have enough of that on their own). But alas, they sit on these surprisingly comfortable couches, watching.

“Enough, you two.” Yellow sighed with the inflection of a middle-aged man on his second divorce, “ You can bully Second later.”

“Boo!”

“Here comes, Buzzkill~”

“Watch it,” Blue interjected before the two could get too far in their teasing. Yellow leaned a bit closer in gratitude.

The blue stick figure, seemingly not noticing him, leaps past and knees a green figure in the face. The two continue fighting back and forth, with Second watching in awe. Not too long later, a Yellow stick figure and a red one join the scuffle.

“Aw, I wish I had been able to notice you when we first started fighting!” Green glanced at Second’s embarrassed posture. “Your interest is so cute!”

“I must agree,” Yellow huffed, an amused smile creeping onto his face. It’s rare to see this side of you.”

Second buried himself further into his scarf. Honestly, this is the worst thing to ever happen to him. “I wasn’t that interested.” However, the letters trembled in the textbox, revealing his embarrassment.

The red figure dominates the fight, quickly taking down the other three. Second rocks back and forth in excitement before jumping up and looking for a way to join the battle.

Red couldn’t help but sigh, “I miss the time when I was top dog.”

“Eh? You win a good amount of the fights we have.” Green flicked the boy's forehead, “You’re impulsive and dumb, though. Thus, you lose.”

“Hey!” The teen rubbed his forehead. “My element of surprise is unmatched!”

Yellow snorted, “So good it surprises even you? Strategy isn’t your forte, I see.”

“Well—!” Red’s face heated up in embarrassment, “Go back to tormenting Second!”

Chosen couldn’t help but hide a smile as he looked at the teens' bickering. He sent Dark a slight but amused smirk: “Acting without thinking? It reminds me of a certain someone…”

“Silent, Beast.” The man elbowed playfully.

The figure takes a deep breath, hyping himself before breaking through the barrier. The loud noise causes the other four to stop. They cautiously look around before walking downstairs to investigate further.

Green looked at the broken door, then towards Second before shaking the stick’s hand. Red looks out the window first before shoving Blue in front of him. Quickly, the teens break out into a scuffle over who would step out first.

“Have you guys never explored outside your site?” Dark questioned

“In our defense, it looked like an endless black void that would kill us when we stepped outside.” Yellow shrugged.

“It's forbidden for us to leave our assigned site,” Green shrugged nonchalantly.

“Forbidden? By whom?”

“Well, we don’t know who…”

“But-but—but! We do know we can’t respawn outside of our precinct.” Red leaned over the armrest of the couch.

In a creepily cultish fashion, the quadrant recited in unison, “All for the safety and security of the motherboard.”

The adults in the room turn to Second, who only raises his hands in similar confusion. “I knew the first part, but I didn’t know there was a cult-y law for it!”

The boy quickly turns to his friends, “Why did you guys never tell me?” His hands droop slightly, hurt by discovering such a large idea about his friends from a complete stranger.

“Well,” Blue rubbed the back of their neck, “You never ask.”

Green nods, “Yeah, every time you’re awake, you're with Alan, and you're asleep every time you’re not with Alan.”

“Like this,” Red pretends to sleep, “ Z. Z. Z.”

“We’re not joking about the ‘Z’s either. I think you sleep on the Z key or something.”

“I’m sorry, guys,” Second sank further into his scarf, “I’ll talk to Alan about taking more breaks. We get into a zone and time flies by…”

“Relax, Second,” Yellow placets before the boy starts spiraling, “We understand you’re exhausted afterwards. We also know how much you love animating—“

“But I also love spending time with you guys,” He says, pausing to push back some defiant strands of hair that fell during his fit of passion. I’ll work something out with him.”

The boy seemed more tired than usual as he started tugging at the end of his hair. “Yeah…I’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Blue crosses his legs, “ Your health comes first.”

“Slow down, what do you do with—“ Dark sputters before harshly spitting out, “Becker.”

Yellow hums. Glancing at the other teens, he settles on, “They animate. Draw. Experiment. The whole shebang.”

Chosen feels a quiet anger underneath the wave of sorrow that hits him. “Right, yeah, of course.” Of course, Alan wouldn’t stop after him, he wouldn’t stop after Dark, and he didn’t stop after Vic.

“We’ll likely watch it,” Vic gently pries Second’s hands from his head, “Whoever brought us here has no qualms with exposing rather…upsetting histories.”

“That’s an understatement.” Dark rolled his eyes. Vic glances at the man before focusing his attention on the screen.

Second seems to age twenty years as he walks forward and steps outside the box. The other teens clap in excitement. The orange stick figure beckons them to follow him, eager to show the teens more.

“Whoa, were you really this sassy during our first meeting?” Green teased from across the room.

“I’m always at least level 2 sass at all times.” Second proudly smiles.

The group jumps into Facebook, quickly playing around and experimenting with all the new functions. The teens jump around in unspoken happiness, quickly bonding with new friends.

For a second, Dark couldn’t help but imagine a world without Alan. Could he have played around so carefree? Could this have been him and Chosen?

A knot forms in the man’s stomach.

Alan stares at his screen in shock. He quickly drops his laundry basket and rushes to his computer. Second panics upon seeing the man, quickly ushering his new friends to return to their tab, much to their confusion.

Despite already being seated, Chosen felt the urge to lie further down. A sudden dizziness sent his stomach into twists. He was going to watch him torture a child. He was going to watch this kid relive all those buried moments. All those days spent trapped in the damned box.

Dark places a hand on his thigh, attempting to ground

victim, who couldn’t help but glance at his enemy’s (?) weakened state. The sight only made him more irritated. Only now can The Chosen One feel guilt?

The man quickly shortcuts to the task manager screen, seemingly deleting Red in a puff of smoke. The others scream, scrambling to make it to safe ground.

Second bangs on the window for the man to stop, but to no avail. One by one, each of his new friends vanished in a puff of smoke.

“This is more graphic than I remembered.” Blue's sweater feels tighter around their chest.

“He picked us off, one by one,” Red mumbled. His naturally excited inflection is gone. He lightly touches his yellow bandana.

They tightened their grip around their friend as another thought hit them, “What…” Blue stares down Second, “What happened when we were gone?”

Second gave a nervous smile, “Does it matter? It worked out, no?”

Red opened his mouth to protest, but Green placated him by placing a hand on his thigh. “We’ll find out regardless. If not, don’t push it. Let him come to us, " he whispered.

Second, he felt a tiny prick in his heart. Great, another thing he doesn’t know.

In a last-ditch effort, the Orange stick figure tightly hugged Green, hopeful that he wouldn’t disappear, but all left in his arms was a cloud of green smoke.

Alan ignores Second, choosing to handle the floating emojis and other remnants of the teens’ playground.

“It looks like Becker didn't get any less cruel than we first saw…” Dark hisses out, “Look at him leaving you for last.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose.” Second’s textbox quickly interrupts the man’s rant, “I just happened to be last…”

Dark gave the kid a funny look; however, judging by the look on the stick figure’s face, he didn’t expect it either. “Let’s be real, kid.” Dark awkwardly looked away. Alan hates what he makes—or rather, he hates us.”

Second fiddled with his scarf, “He can’t hate us. At least not completely?”

Dark rolls his eyes, “

Finally, Alan makes it to Second, who slams his fists in frustration. The mouse finally scrolls down to a program, “TheSecondComing.exe, The Chosen One’s Return.”

Nausea rushes into Chosen like a freight train. He instinctively covers his mouth to keep his last meal (when's the last time he’s eaten?) down. He’s the reason Second is trapped with that monster man in the first place. Alan lost his old toy and made a new one.

“I’m sorry.” Chosen’s fingers pick at a faded scar that wraps the length of his right arm, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Second, still in shock at the sudden connection, jumped back a bit at the man’s apologies. Tugging a reassuring smile, Second quickly waved his hands to brush the situation off, “Ah, what are you apologizing for?

“Whoa-whoa whoa—“ Dark’s head snaps between the two, “You—him? Related?”

“Um…” Second scratches his cheek, “I guess Alan made me with him in mind?”

“He made you because I left…” Chosen interrupts, his hands still covering his face, “I’m sorry. I knew I should have stayed—“

“What the fuck?” Dark ripped Chosen’s hand from his face, “Are you serious?”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Second quickly places a text box between them, “It's okay! Alan isn’t that bad! You didn’t make him do anything.”

Chosen still looks down in shame, leading Dark to roll his eyes in exasperation. “The brat is partially right, Cho’,” Dark pushed thetext box out the way, “Don’t do say stupid shit like that again. If you shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have either.”

“Dark, you didn’t deserve to-to—“ Chosen gently held his hands, “be imprisoned right after creation.”

“And you did?” Chosen had no words for that. A rare, gentle look washed over Dark’s face as he grabbed Chosen’s hands, “I was made for you. Everything I do is for us, for our future. Never regret our freedom.”

Chosen let his head drop into Dark’s shoulder, drooping as if the world's weight lay upon his back. The room kept silent, letting the two immerse themselves in each other’s presence. It isn't until Chosen feels an intense stare from the victim that he glances up.

However, an error message pops up when Alan tries to delete him. The boy begins to glitch out as he rises from his knees. Alan tries again, but a new message appears from the Second Coming: “You ended my friends. Now, I will end you.”

Dark cackles in excitement, “Finally! Its nice to see you not kiss Becker’s ass.”

Second sputters in jumbled mess of anger and embarrassment, “I do not ‘kiss ass’!”

Dark threw his head back further in laughter as Second attempted to defend himself. Chosen let a small smile come to his face as (his new little brother?) the boy reached over the couch to smack at Dark playfully.

“Aw~ It's okay, Sec. I knew you loooooved us!” Green teased.

“Hey!” The text box smacked itself into the Green Stickfigure’s head.

“Our knight in shining armor ~” Red dramatically draped himself across Green’s collapsed body, giggling when a different text box was thrown his way.

“That’s enough,” Blue crossed his arms. “It’s not Second’s fault they’re so in love with us.”

“Whose side are you on!?” Second nearly jumped across the room to tackle the group, only being held back by Vic’s purposeful hand on the back of his shirt.

“Calm yourself, Second.” The man’s low yet velvety voice caused the orange to pause.

“The best revenge takes patience and planning.”

“Eh?!” The teens yelled. Second’s face lit up in excitement, joyfully sitting back down.

“At least you’re on my side, V.”

“Of course, you’re just like me,” victim smiled. I have a responsibility to guide you.”

“You’re pretty intense when you want to be….” Second leaned away, a nervous laugh accompanying the discomfort on his face.

The man seemed surprised at the comment and awkwardly leaned back to give the boy space. Vic attempted to switch the topic with the same neutral expression: “Right, well, at least this proves our theory about you having abilities.”

This time, it was Second’s turn to be surprised: " Oh, yeah! I guess you're right?”

“I’m rarely wrong.” Vic quipped back, earning a playful hit from the boy.

“It probably has to do with your connection to me,” Chosen traced the scars on his hands. “I’m sure he was playing around with coding over the years. It might be why yours may be dormant.”

“You get stranger and stranger every adventure, Sec.” Yellow shook their head in disbelief.

A tiny prick stabbed into his heart, “Slow down, we don’t even know if I have abilities in the first place.” In frustration, second hands flew into the air, “Our evidence is me sleeping and having this weird glitch that hasn’t appeared in years!”

The room went quiet, and Second flushed from anger to embarrassment. The rest of the color gang glanced at each other before nudging Green forward to say something.

“Well, it's okay if you have abilities, Tangerine?”

“Yeah, it's pretty cool!” Red followed up excitedly

“Cleaning up could be a lot easier if I could just fireball everything away!”

Yellow snorts, “Your first idea is to destroy your chores?”

“Of course! What else would their use be?”

Orange hides a small smile, the insecurity in his heart fading, “I’ll blow up a few plates for you, Red.” The warmth within the text seeps through.

“Please don’t.” Blue felt a migraine come on, “You all break enough plates without powers.”

Second and Red share a devious look.

The stick begins to flicker more; this time, the image of The Chosen One appears in his place.

“Does—“ Chosen stumbled over his words as he stared wide-eyed at the screen, “Does that happen often?”

Second glanced over to his friends, who only shrugged, “Um, I suppose not?”

“Do you have access to the same abilities as The Chosen One?”

Second turned his attention back to victim, “Well, not that I’m aware of?”

“Unless sleeping too much is a power?” Blue lightly teased from the sidelines.

“Well, having abilities means we require a higher energy output. Your body might just be preparing itself for them to appear.” Dark hummed out.

“Well, I’m not that different.” Second leaned away absentmindedly.

“You could also just be tired?” Blue said in an attempt to rectify whatever plagued Second’s mind. The orange hollowhead only nodded.

Second stands still for a second before calmly walking over and liking a dark tweet from one of Alan’s friends.

“Boo! Get to punching!” Red shouted at the screen, earning a smack on the back of the head from Green, “Ow!”

“Manners.” Yellow chastised.

“What? Everyone else was like, Pwcha! wabam! pewpewpew! I crave action!” Red whined.

“I’m sure there’s going to be plenty….” Yellow attempted to mime the noises, “ Of that, later.”

“I can promise! I definitely kicked his butt.” Second smugly crosses his arms.

“Duh-doy! How else would we be talking right now?” Red laughed. Second shifted slightly, but accompanied his laughter.

The adults in the room share a look.

The person hostilely replies and seemingly unfriends Alan—the man’s hand trembles in anger before slamming down on his desk.

“It's weird, Alan, so…angry?” Green murmurs.

“What is he usually like?”

“I don't know… happy? Calm?” Red tugs at his bandana, “I guess I haven’t been paying attention.”

“He’s happy?”

“Um… I guess.” Red flinched back at the dark look on Dark’s face, “Wait, I think we aren’t on the same—“

Green shook his head, “Don’t bother. We’ll have to explain it during the break.”

Red frowned, leaving this to simmer didn’t seem right, but who was he to argue?

Alan attempts to catch Second with his mouse, but the teen moves faster than he can react. He sends a quick excuse to his friend before following the figure further. This time, Second can be seen using the letters from other tweets to type more hurtful comments, with Alan following quickly behind to do damage control.

Dark hums, “Nice tactic, I never knew Becker was so invested in his social life.”

Second shrugged, “I watched him scroll through Facebook while I was being creating, so I just put two and two together.”

On the final one, Alan manages to catch the creation. He quickly flings the boy off the message and slams him against the message board. Second quickly adapts, though, opening Apple Music and syncing to the man’s phone.

“You—you travelled to a different device?” Vic stared at the screen.

“It was kind of like a waterslide? Super fun!”

“‘Super fun’ to be running for your life?” Chosen raises a brow.

“Tomato-tomato.”

“You don’t speak, it literally looks the same.”

“You still understood my point!”

Chosen felt a migraine come on, but a smile twitched onto his face. The urge to ruffle the stick’s head was strong, but who was Chosen but not the strongest? “I suppose I did, kid.”

“Your ability to adapt and make split-second decisions without training is incredible.” Vic interrupts with his thoughts.

Second flushed and embarrassedly looked at his sneakers, “Well, it's not that—“

“Do you think it results from your connection with the Chosen One?”

Second reeled back, slowly processing the man’s question before attempting to type a response. However, Vic moved on to the next question as if he were simply running the questions off the top of his head. “Has Alan ever opened the command panel in front of you?”

“Let the brat breathe, damn.” Dark roughly kicked the back of their couch, “Hounding him like a damn dog.”

“Funny, coming from you.” The color gang flinched back at the comment, gaping at the older, greying man at his sudden aggression. Even Chosen’s eyes widened in surprise at the hostility.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dark only raised a brow, but the fiddling with his claws implied a pipe filled with anger, ready to burst.

“Don’t start a fight.” Chosen pulled at the back of Dark’s tank top, glancing at the worried glance of Second, “Not now.”

“No, If He has something to say, he should say it with his chest.”

“Let’s all take a step back.” Second attempts to placate, placing a gentle hand on Vic's chest.

“I’m sorry, some of us want to use this opportunity to discover something rather than sit here having a pity party.”

“Pity party?!—“ Dark’s claws glisten under the screen light, “I’ve cut sticks twice your size down.”

“Dark. Enough.” Chosen stands this time, gripping the other’s wrist.

“Please calm down, guys.” Second gets closer to Vic.

“You’re proud of that?” Vic glances between the two hollow heads with an unseen animosity.

“Second, near me.” Blue lets authority seep into his words, “I’m not joking. Near me. Now.”

Dark smirks, “Yeah. I wiped out entire sites. Do you think I care about your stupid little time with Alan? I couldn’t care less if you lived or died.”

“I don't need a reminder of your apathy. I assumed you struggled with basic empathy when you almost murdered your so-called best friend—“ Vic fell back as Second yanked him away from a sudden sharp swipe from Dark.

“Shit, Second—“ Green calls out, stumbling over his own feet as he watched the younger slam against the ground with Vic against his chest.

victim feels the boy wince in pain, but he ignores it in favor of feeling a stinging, shallow cut near his neck. He pulls his hand away to stare at the blood coating his finger. He glances up at Dark’s cold expression.

“You’re lucky that brat was there. Next time, I won’t miss.”

Chosen didn’t say anything, but simply led the other away. However, Dark swiped at the other in anger. The weight on Chosen’s shoulders seemed to return.

Vic turns around to face Second, to thank the boy, but the rest of his friends were already looking over the teen.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Blue whispers as he places pressure on the boy’s wrist. Second leaned against Red, letting the boy’s chest secure the rest of his weight.

“It’s okay, guys... really!” The message took a while to finish, as the boy seemed to tremble under his friend's touch.

Green hummed and nudged Yellow with his elbow, “That’s Second for ‘It hurts a lot.’ We probably need an ice pack.”

Yellow only nodded and pulled out the staff they had stored away since the first day. Like magic, blue and white wisps swirled around the staff. Yellow raised the stick before quickly pointing it back down at the ground. Out came a small, perfect block of ice.

Green lifted the block and brought it to the trio. Red noticed and quickly untied his bandana to wrap the block around the other’s wrist.

“Can you check on V?” Second glanced at the man sitting on the floor. “I don’t think I pulled him back in time to avoid injury completely.”

“Second.” Blue gave the boy a stern look, causing Second to buckle.

“Please, B? It would make me feel better.” Second gave his best puppy eyes, though the tears welled in his eyes, and shed a bit as Red increased the pressure of the makeshift icepack. Red apologized profusely, loosening his grip as the other remained tense in his arms.

“…Fine.” Blue looked away. “But we are talking later.”

Second gave a weak smile and turned his attention back to the fussing of the rest of the color gang. He attempted to quell their worries, but seeing the injury again fires up the others to fuss more.

The older teen huffs and stalks toward the man. Vic only glances up at the boy. A moment of silence passes before Vic speaks, “You don’t need to help me. You can lie, I won’t argue.” The man sounded defeated.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” Blue glares down at the man. “ I told Sec I would help you, so I am.”

Vic didn’t respond, but Blue knelt and began assessing the injury. " It's long, that's for sure.” He traced the length of the cut. " It probably would have taken your head off if Second were there.”

“Maybe it should have,” Vic murmured, causing Blue to pause.

“I hate you, you know?” Vic leaned back in surprise, but the teen continued, “ All of you. All you do is push your stupid adult issues on us—on Second.”

“…”

“ You talk about pity parties, but what have you done besides cause problems? Don’t think I haven’t seen how you talk to Sec’, you’re a shit person.” He grabs a few bandages from a first aid kit he found.

“…”

“I don’t know why you are like this, and I honestly don’t care. Stay away from my family, or Dark is the last thing you need to worry about.” Blue steps away, the man’s neck fully wrapped.

“Adults and their stupid pride contests….” Vic didn’t respond to that comment. He didn’t have the right to. (What would she think of him now?)

“Are you okay?” Second whispered as Vic approached his seat, Dark didn’t acknowledge his presence.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He glances down at Second’s wrapped wrist: the teen notices and attempts to hide it.

“Ah! I landed wrong when I yanked you back. It’s okay, though, just swelling.”

Watching the boy type with one hand brought a new wave of guilt. This room changed him, and he would've never lost control so easily.

Alan scrambles to his phone, attempting to stop the stick figure as he demolishes his homepage. He begins to delete different pages to corner Second, but the stick figure has already drop-boxed himself back to the computer.

Green whistles in amazement, “You’re quick when you want to be.”

The comment was small, but it helped break the tension in the room. Second smiled fondly. Leave it to Green to know what to do. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Green snickers, “Well, I’m just saying…” He raises his hands in defense, “ You’re barely beating out Yellow and Blue, and they’re like 1000.”

“Watch it, youngin’” Blue teases, tossing his head back agains the couch.

“We were created at the same time.” Yellow raises a brow, “Also, I’ve always been faster—“

“Well, you always want to race during prime napping hours.” Second ignored the glare Yellow sent him from across the room.

“So all day?” Red hummed.

“I don’t make the rules.” Second, he smugly rests against the couch, only making a slight wince as he mistakenly rests against his other hand.

Second comes flying out of the Dropbox icon and slams the cursor against the wall. He quickly opens the original animating software, and the fight begins there.

Victim’s breath hitches at the sight, catching Chosen’s attention.

“Don’t let him catch you…” He murmured, “He won’t let you go.”

The black hollowhead leaned against Dark; wasn’t that the truth?

Alan quickly draws a box, attempting to stop the little stick figure from moving so fast. He slams Second into the wall, but the creation quickly grabs the lasso tool and tightens it around Alan’s Cursor.

The mouse's movement becomes limited, and Second quickly crafts a familiar-looking laser gun. Alan attempts to dodge, but Second only tightens the rope and demolishes the cursor.

.

“You’re mighty creative…” victim murmurs in fascination.

Chosen feels a shiver go down his spine. “You good?” Dark whispers in concern. His earlier frustration had mellowed considerably, but the picking at the couch’s seams implied lingering anger.

“Yeah. Just cold, I guess.”

For the first time, Second calms down for a bit and searches through the rubble to find the pencil tool. He quickly draws another stick figure.

“You uh… missed us.” Green hesitantly chuckled. His hands scratched the back of his head as he watched his friend attempt to replace their presence.

“Or were you just lonely?” Red whispered out. His teeth chewed at his bottom lip, a nervous tick he usually quickly hid.

“What?” Second fliched back like he was burned.

“I was just thinking and um—“ The boy squired under the pressure of everyone’s eyes on him, “There wasn’t anyone else there when we explored, yeah?”

“Did you just…” Yellow felt their shoulders drop. “Stand there. All day?”

“I only really got the courage when I met you guys.” Second picked at the wrapping on his wrist, “To rebel, I mean. I think my instincts to hide were too strong.”

“Oh, " Red said, lifting his legs to his chest. “I’m glad you found us then.”

The stick figure gets a stroke of inspiration and quickly draws a more fleshed-out version of the character.

Alan slams his fists down again in anger, but this time, he’s prepared. He quickly uses just his keyboard to create a bigger and stronger cursor.

“What the fuck.” Dark’s claws created more tears in the couch. The Vira-Bots weren’t prepared for multiple cursors. He deeply dragged a claw against the armrest. It looks like he’ll have to add some modifications to beef up their offense.

“It looks like he’s not the only one who's been training,” Chosen mumbled. He and Dark shared a determined look before giving each other a slight nod.

“That certainly throws a wrench into things,” victim mumbled. Though he wasn’t entirely worried, his team should be able to handle a few more pixels of defense.

When the man returns, the screen is chaotic, as Second has drawn many different creatures and people. The boy finishes up a quick wing drawing and flies into the air. Alan begins to select all the drawings but pauses and looks at his artwork on the wall.

“You know your way around a pen.”

A spark of happiness cuts through the tension in the room. “ Of course! Drawing is therapeutic for me. I can just throw all the little caterpillars in my brain on paper and WHAM! There they are in all their little butterfly glory! Honestly, creation is such a gift and its a shame so many people take it for granted. Theres—“ Second paused, taking in the stares of everyone in the room, “Theres…nevermind”

The hollow head’s face heated in heavy embarrassment as no one spoke. Another moment passed before the boy shyly typed on his keyboard, “Sorry, I was rambling again.”

“Good to see one hand doesn't stop you.” Green laughs from behind his fist.

Alan sits and lets the scene play out.

Red smiled. This may be the moment he reloaded the webpage. Although it took a bit of roughhousing with Second, he was glad that Alan finally came to his senses. It was too bad it took him a decade to realize the joy found within his creations.

“Whatcha’ thinking about so hard over there?” Green leans in to poke the younger boy’s cheek, “I can hear the hamster running its wheel in there.”

Red elbowed Green’s gut.

That is, until the strongman punches his cursor, prompting him to quickly delete all of Second’s creations. The man throws the stick into the air and boxes him.

Chosen and Vic’s breath hitches.

When the boy escapes the first cage, he creates a second, thicker box that does well, keeping the stick figure inside.

“No, no, no—“ victim stood up in desperation, his hands gripping his shirt as he tried to breathe. Second stood up with him in worry, but he seemed lost in his world.

“V? Hey, calm down! You don’t have to watch this,” Second turned to the ceiling,” Hey! Pause the video!”

The video continued to play.

The man begins shrinking the box on the stick, eventually encasing him in an uncomfortable position.

“Pause the video! Are you blind?!” Second’s textbox grew larger as his desperation became more visible.

“Second…” Yellow murmured as they stared intensely at the screen.

“I’m going to kill him.” Dark hissed out as the itch in his right arm grew intense. “I’ll eat that stupid fucking cursor alive.”

“It never changes.” Chosen buries his head in his hands. “He’ll never change.”

Alan begins to move his mouse towards Second.

Out of nowhere, an orange textbox yells, “STOP!” The teen collapses into his arms, trembling in fear.

Alan pauses, “It…talks?”

“Alan…talks?” Vic murmured at the screen.

“It?” Blue’s eye twitches in annoyance.

The man quickly typed out a small message, “You talk?” Second ignored the question, curled further, and whimpered, “Don’t delete me, please!”

Blue watches the screen with a newfound intensity. He feels Yellow turn their face into his shoulder, but he ignores it. His hands tighten into a fist. He must know how badly he failed to watch over one of his own.

A sense of shame filled the Second’s gut. Watching himself whimper and bumble around like a puppy was not his proudest moment. He turns to joke quietly towards Vic, but the man looks distraught.

“He used the box tool.” The man’s eyes seemed to gloss over, “He didn’t use lines.”

“Yeah, is that—” Second fiddled with the ends of his scarf, “is that wrong?”

victim turned to the teen, who had yet to lose the baby fat off the sides of his face, who clung to his friends with a fierce protectiveness (Who looked up to him). This painfully ordinary child and his ordinary friends would be tormented through methods meticulously refined over years of Becker’s creations escaping. Methods Vic has helped refine.

He was the starting line. The first hit of sadism that kept his creator coming back for more. The desires that sought to achieve his goal, uncaring of who was hurt. A hunger that aches like starvation despite gluttony itself. An insatiable monster.

Suddenly, he could understand The Chosen One’s pitiful guilt. However, victim was not The Chosen One. He would attack the root rather than lashing out like a toddler who didn’t get their wish. Another bitter grimace snuck onto the man’s face. All that power just to become like the monster he sought to escape.

Victim would be better.

Vic would be better.

He had to be.

“I’m not going to delete you. You need to calm down.” Second lashes out at the seemingly condescending comment.

“You need to die!”

“Calm down?” Dark scoffs with a laugh. Of course, that's the first thing he says upon discovering our sentience.”

“Hey, stick figure. You’re a really good animator.” This comment causes Second pause in confusion.

“What?”

“If you help me animate, I’ll let you free as long as you don’t wreck my computer.”

“What?!”

“Second, please tell me he’s joking.”

“I’m going to be sick.”

Second felt an uncomfortable heat build in his face. Honestly, no one needed to worry this much about him. He was handling it, and it wasn’t like Alan kept up the deal anymore.

“It isn’t—it wasn’t that bad.” The room turned to him, “And it's in the past now! Things are better now.”

“Just because it happened in the past, doesn’t mean we can’t acknowledge the hurt it caused you.” Chosen rasped out. To which Second had nothing to say. For the first time in a long time, Second couldn’t talk his way out of this.

Chosen let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion. Dark raised a brow but only shifted a bit closer to the man. “Talk about character development…”

“Quiet.” But a small smile crept onto his face, and, for a moment, he could pretend nothing was wrong.

Second, he quickly turned his back on the offer, “No, you ended my friends.”

Yellow buried their face in their hands. A sharp ringing sensation overshadowed the muffled worries of their friends. Tears slowly trickled down their cheeks as the weight of the situation finally hit them.

“Second…” The boy didn’t look up, “Please tell me you didn’t— that he didn’t…”

Red’s head snapped back and forth between the two, “What? What did Alan do?”

Second didn’t respond.

Yellow removes their glasses.

Alan hums and reloads the stick figure page, showing all the remaining stick figures as playing cards. Ignorant of the events that transpired, they all happily waved.

“What did he do?” Red’s voice flared up in frustration, ignoring the events on screen, “Why are you guys being so vague?”

Second didn’t respond.

“Answer me!” Red huffed out, but the anger slowly slipped into dread, “Alan and Sec’ have always…animated…together.”

Red sank back in his seat, and the more the silence in the room went on, the more he realized what Second had done, what Alan had done.

“You work, for us?” Red felt his heart break, “To keep us alive? Us…free?”

Second didn’t respond. Red felt a frustration run over him, “You didn’t know us! What point was there—“

“You guys were my first friends. My only friends.” Second, he felt tears well up in his eyes. “It was cold before you guys. I couldn’t go back to that–To being alone.”

“You guys can’t leave me.” The teen clawed at his chest, and flickers of green decorated his hands if one looked closer. “I don’t know what I would do,” he said.

“Sec…” Like a bucket of cold water thrown onto a candle, Red’s frustration dampened out

Second’s shoulders dropped in relief. Still cautious, he replied, “When do we start?”

Yellow lets out a small squeak from behind their hands. They press their fingers tightly against their mouths in the hopes of muffled sounds, but to no avail. Their tears flow heavier down their faces as they curl further into themselves.

Second’s heart dropped in his chest. They rushed to Yellow’s side, ignoring the pensive look on Vic’s face.

“It’s okay,” Second felt Yelow shiver in his arms. I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Chosen feels his heart twist into an old, familiar flame—the same fire that ignited and kept him warm in a void of black, the same flicker that forced him to fight through wave after wave of Icons. However, this time, he felt this flame’s goal wasn’t to destroy. It was here to protect.

“As soon as we get out,” Dark turns his head slightly, catching Chosen’s attention. “We finish what we started.”

Chosen didn’t detest this time—only a tiny, “How?” stumbled out of his mouth.

Dark eyebrows slightly raised in shock, but the weight of the situation prevented him from celebrating altogether, “I have a little… pet project I’ve been working on. Not all the issues have been worked out, but it should work well enough if one of us follows through to finish the job.”

“Right.” Chosen seemed to hesitate before murmuring, “Can’t wait.”

Dark sensed his hesitance. He’s always been good at reading Chosen’s needs. He placed a strangely gentle hand on the small of Chosen’s back, “We’re doing this to protect the brat and his snot-nosed, little friends.”

The black hollow head winced at the vulgar nicknames, but Dark’s words held a fondness that was usually reserved for him and whatever the aggressive man invented in their shabby garage. Dark continued, “We protect our own, yeah?”

Chosen paused in thought before nodding, “We protect our own.”

The screen cuts to five months later, showing the duo animating together. Around the room, different pieces of art are shown, each one better than the last. The two communicate through text boxes.

“Needlessly self-sacrificing…” Vic mumbled, staring at the screen like he saw a different person, “Caring to a fault.”

Second didn’t know what to say, but victim didn’t care. “She would have loved you.” Vic’s heart aches like it hasn’t in years, “I know she would’ve.”

Second looks away, a bit weirded out, but turns to face everyone else in the room. However, seeing everyone’s distraught expression, he felt his shoulder cave in.

This wasn’t that bad (it was petrifying). They haven’t seen how Alan has changed (how he struggled to keep food down out of fear). He and his friends are enjoying the life Alan provides for them. (He watches them sleep, afraid they’ll disappear if he isn’t watching)

As the duo finishes animating a pegasus, they initiate a break time, and Second moves to join the other stick figures in fighting.

The teens get into position and are quickly dominated by the orange stick figure. The video ends with Second smiling in the camera.

Silence fills the room as the screen cuts to black. Second attempts to give his friends a slight smile, but this attempt quickly fails once he sees the various levels of disbelief on their faces.

He turned to Vic, who looked more blank than ever, and then to Chosen and Dark, who looked furious. “Um,” the hollow head hesitated before typing, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

Nothing. Second continued.

“I like animating! And—and He’s been a lot better about the whole—“

“Second.” The sternness in Green’s voice started him.

A crooked smile worked on his face, though he still picked at his fingers, “Yeah?”

The usually self-confident teen hesitated, turning to the other stick figures for reassurance. Blue gave a firm nod as Yellow attempted to calm their cries. Red looked at the ground, a frustrated expression present.

Seeing no response from the younger boy, Green continued, “You—No. We can’t stay on that…I.P. anymore.”

Second’s smile dropped, “What?”

A loud robotic voice sounded over the speakers, “A 20-minute break will be permitted.”