Chapter Text
“ Please don’t leave me behind. ”
The harrowing words escape The Hunter’s mouth as the red slugcat chokes on his own blood, which was excruciatingly coughed up from his insides. Bulbous, evidently malignant tumors bulge out of his skin, threatening to burst by the seams and pop—a reality that Hunter has always been deeply afraid of. Already, some of Hunter’s cysts had broken open and shot out of his body like tentacles, writhing around the ground in arbitrary movements. The rest of the impromptu colony accompanying Hunter had always been aware that this cycle would come. Regardless, they had chosen to live with the threat of Hunter’s possible imminent death and search for a way to save him anyway–avoiding the obvious bittersweet solution, being ascension.
In hindsight, perhaps ascension would have been the better option. Despite the small colony’s very recent attempt to bring Hunter to the void sea, it was too little too late. Every passing cycle proved to only worsen Hunter’s illness. The hopeless nature of their situation became increasingly clear to the Spearmaster, Artificer, Gourmand, and Rivulet.
Any one of them would be lying if they said that ascension wasn’t the only way out. With Hunter’s illness this progressed, with Hunter’s suffering this amplified—truly, ascension would be a mercy. If only they had had the foresight to understand that fact before the illness progressed to this point.
Hunter rasps again, his entire body convulsing. The cysts once again pulse, seemingly ready to burst. It’s an unruly, gruesome sight—yet not a single slugcat can look away. They can’t bear to avert their eyes from their suffering, dying friend.
“HUNTER! Please, stay with us for just one more cycle! We’re so close to the farm arrays!” Artificer cries out. Once she confirms that Hunter can’t reply, she grimaces tightly.
“I’ll fucking cut the Rot out of him!” she screams, little explosions sparkling off her body. Tears stream down her eyes as she takes a step forward, spear clutched tightly in hand.
She’s held back by a very concerned Gourmand and Rivulet, trying their best to restrain the much stronger slugcat. “It won’t help! You’ll only worsen the illness!” Gourmand cries as Artificer tries to shove him away. Rivulet is barely managing to keep Artificer back even with Gourmand’s help.
Saint is silent, their usually emotionless face plagued by grief. Spearmaster racks their brain to think of a solution, being the logical one of the group—but to no avail.
Hunter rolls on the ground, a reflex due to the overwhelming pain. “Please, please, please… I need help… ” he whines, tears streaming down from his eyes in volleys. Seeing the usually stoic and tough slugcat’s personality deteriorate into what reminds them of a desperate, suffering animal is frightening.
“We must leave,” Saint mutters. Their voice is cold and quiet. “We can’t help him anymore.”
Artificer roars, finally breaking free of Gourmand and Rivulet’s grasp. She staggers forward, only turning back around to face Saint. “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! WE’RE NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND!”
Spearmaster holds their hands shamefully over their eyes. “ Saint’s right. There’s nothing that can be done. Look at him. He’s dying,” they vocalize through their tail.
Are these idiots stupid or some shit?! Artificer screams internally. Though, even she has to admit that the situation feels hopeless. She knows she can’t help him, but she wants to try. She needs to do something to help Hunter. Anything. There has to be something she can do.
“I’M NOT LOSING SOMEONE I CARE ABOUT AGAIN!” Artificer cries out. Her distressed shrieks are so powerful that Rivulet feels the need to hide behind Gourmand. Despite frightening the younger slugcat, Artificer doesn’t care. She swings around to Hunter and crouches down beside him, tightly grasping her spear and shakily moving it toward one of the cysts.
“I’m sorry, kid. This is going to hurt,” Artificer whimpers before reaching her spear behind her and quickly jabbing it into the right-most cyst on Hunter’s back, trying to tear it clean off in one fell swoop.
Hunter howls in agony, his claws sinking into the ground below him. The single cyst tears from his body and falls onto the ground, bouncing a couple of times before becoming stationary. His pained shrieks grow louder, and the tears he was crying earlier only amplify now. Artificer curses herself repeatedly—over and over again—for inflicting so much suffering onto a dear friend.
“Artificer! Stop! You’re hurting him!” Rivulet cries, covering her mouth. “You’re going to kill him!”
“ Arti.. p–please.. Y—you’re killing me,” Hunter manages to choke out, his voice spotty due to all the blood pooling into his mouth. He’s sobbing now, unable to even scream.
“SHUT UP! I know what I’m doing! If I don’t do this, he—!” Artificer begins to scream, but suddenly goes silent as Hunter falls limp completely.
Everyone freezes. Artificer’s mouth falls agape and her eyes widen as she contemplates what she’s done.
Seconds feel like they take minutes to crawl by. No one says a word, makes a move, or even takes a breath. All their eyes are trained on the red slugcat, limp on the ground, his body lifeless.
Then suddenly Hunter’s body rises, despite his legs remaining un-moved.
He’s become something else.
His body is lifted into the air by those same writhing, wriggling tentacles of Rot that had bursted out of his body. One by one, more of the Hunter’s cysts pop, also becoming seemingly-sentient appendages. They push against the ground, acting as make-shift limbs for the deceased slugcat. His body hangs completely limp despite being suspended in the air. He’s truly dead.
Artificer is frozen in terror. Her spear clatters out of her hands, her mouth agape and eyes wide as she stares at what Hunter’s become. Gourmand is grimacing, keeping Rivulet safely behind him as the gilled-slugcat tries not to look. Saint sighs, knowing he had been correct all along.
“I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HUNTER FROM US!” Artificer shrieks. She snags her spear off the ground and charges toward Hunter Long Legs, but is suddenly yanked backwards by Gourmand, who pulls Artificer into a tight squeeze and backs away from the monster that used to be their friend. Artificer struggles, kicking and screaming, on a furious bout about why Gourmand had stopped her; she only ceases her fury when she realizes that where she once stood, there are multiple tentacles of spiraling Rot. They had all been launched at her in one volley. In her blind rage, Artificer must have not realized.
That’s when the tentacles are launched toward Gourmand. Without apt time to react, they manage to wrap around him—snagging Rivulet and Artificer in the process. Spearmaster springs forward, a spear in each hand—and shoves them into a large cluster of rot bulbs that are part of the dead Hunter.
Artificer tries to scream as she sees the tentacles go limp, and Hunter Long Leg’s body falls to the ground. Gourmand keeps her held back, in spite of the tears falling from his eyes. Saint strides by, brushing a hand over Artificer’s neck and whispering the word ‘ SLEEP.’
Suddenly, Artificer’s body goes limp as she falls unconscious. Gourmand releases some of the pressure he’d been using to hold Artificer, and glares at Saint.
“You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore,” Gourmand mutters, his eyes narrowed.
“It would be best if she were not awake to see what happens next,” Saint replies, face contorted in worry—but their voice is nonetheless neutral. They place their hand against Hunter Long Leg’s torso, and leave it there for a moment. Spearmaster’s eyes shift to Saint, watching their actions.
Saint comes to a decisive nod and lets their hand fall. They are quiet for a brief moment before turning to face the rest of the anxious slugcats.
They frown. “Hunter is gone,” they say simply.
Rivulet breaks into a sob. She bawls, fat tears streaming down her cheeks and pattering against the ground. Gourmand lifts her into his arms, trying his best to comfort the smaller slugcat—but it does little to quell her grief. Spearmaster can’t help but look away from the madness, their eyes shut painfully.
Artificer’s ears twitch, though she doesn’t wake from her forced rest. Spearmaster places a finger over each of Hunter Long Legs’s eyelids, and slides them closed.
Saint continues to stare at the rot-infested monster. The one that used to be brimming with life, tougher than steel, awkwardly kind to the slugcats of their little colony.
Now he’s dead, Saint thinks, their frown widening.
They shake their head.
No, not exactly. But… they do not need to know that.
A low growling sound can be heard as a group of green lizards crawl out through a pipe, their claws striking the vegetation-covered steel ground with every step. One by one, they all take note of the slugcats present, and begin a hunt.
“Leave. Now!” Saint yells, waving a hand to the other slugcats as if to hurry them away. To make things worse, the ground begins to rumble as the rain threatens to fall, and sweep the slugcats away.
Rivulet sweeps her head. “W—we can’t just leave Hunter here! H—he’s our friend! He… He…!”
“ He’s dead. And he will not come back!” Saint exclaims, quickly darting away from the oncoming green lizards toward a pipe on the opposite side of the room. “Do you wish to be swept away by the rain?”
Unable to move due to her grief, Rivulet cries again—only to be scooped up by Spearmaster as they turn tail and run toward the same pipe that Saint is bee-lining for. Gourmand follows suit, only taking a brief glance back at the deceased Hunter before sliding through the pipe himself.
Just before Gourmand squishes into the pipe, Artificer’s nose twitches, her eyes opening just a slit to garner a single look at Hunter’s face–diseased and suffered–for the final time.
Her heart hurts.
And then she falls back asleep.
/ / /
…
…
…
Oww…
My head hurts…
My head hurts so bad…
Oh.
That checks out.
Survivor shoves Monk off of his head. On their way down during the fall, Monk had grabbed hold of Survivor—by the head, specifically. That’s probably why his head felt crushed when the two landed.
“EE–YIPE!” Monk shrieks, scrambling awake as he’s shoved off of Survivor, tumbling onto the ground several times before coming to a halt—releasing an appropriate “AOUW–ooOOF!” as their head hits steel ground.
Survivor manages to bring himself to stand, dusting off his lower body before turning to see his brother, pathetically face-first in the ground. “Oh, get up, you little baby,” Survivor grumbles, pulling Monk to his feet by the arm.
“Auuwoh! Wait– wait! Blood rush! Wait! Survivor!” Monk stammers, bringing his hands to his head in an attempt to calm himself down. Blood rushes into the rest of Monk’s body as he’s forced to stand up. “Oh… oh that feels so not good.”
“Where are we?” Survivor huffs, keeping his brother steady as he surveys the area. The slugcats are surrounded by a dense mess of machinery and overgrowth, random machines and mechanisms sticking out of arbitrary places doing unpredictable things. Survivor doesn’t like this place one bit. He sighs loudly, recounting prior events that led up to this moment.
Finally, Monk recuperates from the rush of blood—and he immediately takes superficial glances around the area as well. “MOM! DAD?! BIG BRO?” he calls out, a hand on either side of his mouth.
Suddenly, Survivor lightly shoves his fist into the back of Monk’s neck, an angry expression on his face. “They’re not here, idiot!”
“OW–! Hey, what was that for?” Monk whines, slight tears in his eyes as he swivels his head to stare at Survivor. “Why are you so… angry? ”
“Because! You jumped after me! After I explicitly told you to stay away!” Survivor exclaimed, shooting his arms out to his sides. “Now you’re stuck here, away from mom, away from dad, away from big bro!”
Monk’s eyes shamefully droop to the ground. He grabs his arm guilty, avoiding Survivor’s glare… but is pleasantly surprised when the white slugcat wraps the smaller yellow slugcat in a tight hug.
“...But… I’m really glad I’m not alone right now.” Survivor exhales quietly.
Monk releases a slight gasp from his throat… before comfortingly wrapping his arms around his brother as well, rubbing circles on his back.
“Heh. See? I knew you wouldn’t be able to survive out here on your own!” Monk teases, a cheeky grin on his face. “I’m glad we came out in one piece.”
Survivor huffs. “I would have been fine on my own. Just sad is all.”
Monk tilts his head in confusion. “Then why did you jump in the first place..?”
Flabbergasted, Survivor’s mouth gapes. “What, you think I did that on purpose ? I fell, you dummy! I slipped off of mom’s back when the lightning struck!”
…
“Ohhhhh…. That makes a lot more sense!” Monk flashes his brother a thumbs-up. “Then I’m even more glad that I came after you. Still, this sucks. I wanna see our colony again…”
Survivor turns his head away poutily—and then his eyes settle on bluefruits hanging from the nearby ceiling. “Well, it’s not all bad, I guess. Look what I just found!” the white slugcat smirks, sprinting and sliding underneath a cylindrical tank and vaulting over a collapsed pillar before screeching to a halt. “Look, Monk! Bluefruits!”
Monk’s mouth widens in pure joy. “Bluefruits!” he cheers, running after his brother—easily sliding beneath the tank and hopping over the pillar just like Survivor had done. He skids to a halt by the white slugcat’s side, immediately hopping up and down in an effort to grab the bluefruits—but his hands reach just short.
“Awh, shucks. They’re out of reach!” Monk whines, frustratedly huffing steam out of their nose. Survivor smiles and places a hand up to stop Monk. “That’s not a problem. There’s two of us here. Remember how we used to get the bluefruits when we were just pups?”
As gears turn in the Monk’s brain, he begins to nod repeatedly, faster and faster as he makes each new connection. “So we just need to do that here!”
Survivor nods proudly. “Yep. Get on my shoulders,” he offers, crouching down a little right below the patch of hanging bluefruits. Monk wastes no time, immediately going to clamber up Survivor’s back, and eventually placing one paw on each of Survivor’s shoulders. He manages to stay balanced, but it’s tricky. Monk nearly trips and falls over, but Survivor realigns himself to prevent it.
“Can you reach it?” Survivor stammers, trying his best to keep his brother from falling off. Meanwhile, Monk strains, stretching his body as far as possible to reach the low-hanging bluefruits.
“I…” the yellow slugcat drones, his focus unwavering. “I’ve got them!” he exclaims in triumph. He had grasped every single bluefruit at once, gathering all the glorified juicepacks clumped together in his hands. “Survivor, I’ve–!”
Suddenly, Monk squeals. He realizes what he’s done—he’s leaned so far off of Survivor’s shoulders that he can’t restabilize himself. The slugcat falls forward too quickly for Survivor to re-balance him.
“C—crap!” Survivor yelps, diving forward to catch his brother. Unfortunately, it turns out to be less of a catch and more of a sacrifice. He falls face-first into the ground, and Monk lands on top of him. Just like earlier. If there’s any silver lining, though, it’s that the bluefruits Monk grabbed had plucked off their vines along with him during the short plummet.
Survivor groans, his body having once again experienced an unfortunate amount of blunt-force trauma while Monk got out of the predicament relatively unscathed. Monk quickly scampers to his paws and gets off Survivor, spinning around to check on his older brother. “S—Survivor! Oh, gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” Monk stammers desperately.
After a moment, Survivor weakly raises his hand—flashing Monk a thumbs-up. “ Yep… All good here…” he sputters. Then he shifts his head up to actually face Monk. “The blue-fruits come down?”
Monk returns a decisive, happy nod. He gathers them off the ground before helping Survivor to his feet. “All of them! Oh, but there’s only three… Umm.. Half-half on the third one?” Monk shrugs.
Survivor grabs one blue-fruit and immediately chows down on it. “No way. I’m bigger, I should get the third.”
“That’s not fair! You’re not even that much bigger than me!” Monk spits in retaliation, crossing his arms poutily.
“Remember when Mom told us that if we were ever in trouble, I’d be in charge?” Survivor snickers, quickly finishing off the first blue-fruit.
Monk sighs, his eyes dragging low to the ground. “Well… Yeah, I guess so… but–!”
“No ‘buts’!” Survivor insists, one finger raised to Monk’s mouth as if to silence the frustrated smaller slugcat. “As my first act as… uhh… ‘the guy in charge’, I am confiscating the third bluefruit.”
Monk opens his mouth to debate again, but ultimately gives up. He lets out an irritated sigh before handing the third blue-fruit over to his brother. “Fine. Take it,” Monk spits.
Survivor smiles. “Thank you, dear sibling! Also, that’s Your Majesty to you.” he chortles.
“No way in the stars am I calling you that!” Monk refuses, his eyes agape. “Stop abusing your unfair older brother powers on me!” he cries, starting to desperately—and playfully—slap at Survivor’s face. “Survivvooooorrrr!”
“Okay, okay! Calm down! Sorry, jeez…” Survivor grunts, shielding his body from Monk’s harmless slaps.
Eventually, Monk calms down, and he drops into a lazy slouch against the wall right by where the blue-fruits had been hanging. In the mean-time, Survivor eats about half of the blue-fruit that he had confiscated from Monk, and then offers it to the yellow slugcat, a curly smile on his face. “Here, dude. Eat up,” Survivor insists.
Monk stares back at Survivor in unamusement. “I thought you ‘ confiscated ’ it from me. Remember? Big brother powers?” the smaller slugcat huffs, waving his hands around mockingly.
“Ehh… I don’t know. It was a funny joke, but I kind of felt bad afterward,” Survivor chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.
Monk refuses to look him in the eyes. “I still haven’t forgiven you yet!”
Survivor shrugs. “I’m sorry… Could you please forgive me?” the white slugcat pleads.
A moment of hesitation passes before Monk takes the offered half-eaten fruit. “Mmmm…. Fine. But you have to mean that you’re sorry.”
Nodding, Survivor gets down onto one knee and dramatically swings his right hand outward above his head, reeling his head back with a fake saddened expression donned on his face. “Oh, your lordliness! I am truly sorry for the grievances that I’ve forced upon you. My lord—could you ever forgive a short-sighted lowly lantern-mouse as foolish as I?” he begs, ending off the bit with his hands clasped together and his eyes as big and sparkly as he can make them.
Monk can barely hold back his laughter. He bursts into a laughing fit as he takes his last bite of blue-fruit. “Okay! Okay! Fine, you… AHEM–! You have been forgiven, your lowliness. Just do not do it again,” the slugcat banters in a deep, king-like voice.
“ Psst. I don’t think that ‘your lowliness’ is a thing..!” Survivor whispers.
“Hey. I just forgave you. You’re on thin ice, big bro,” Monk shakes his head disapprovingly. Survivor just chuckles in response.
The sun-light begins to get noticeably dimmer as the slugcats talk and joke. Slivers of orange light pass by from the large hole they’d fallen through, disappearing and re-appearing as the light waves move and shift past shadow-casting structures.
Survivor lifts his head, and so does Monk. The two of them take the short walk back to the landing-site and look toward the sky, seeing the clouds pass by far over-head. A small worryful frown spreads on Monk’s face.
The cycle is really passing by. It’s gonna rain at some point, and we have to be prepared for that. Monk thinks. Unfortunately, the cluster of thoughts does his anxiety no good.
A drop of sweat slides down Monk’s face. Survivor catches notice, and realizes that Monk looks especially worried. What if we die out here? The yellow slugcat’s thoughts ramble in fear. What if we aren’t fit to survive? I want mom back! What if… what if..?
Suddenly, the yellow slugcat’s train of thought is interrupted as Survivor slaps him gently on the back. “Hey,” he mutters.
Monk turns to face him. “Y–yeah?” he replies nervously.
Survivor smiles, and rubs comforting circles on Monk’s head. “We’ll be alright. We’ve got each other, right? Come on, let’s go find some more food and a shelter to stay in.”
A prolonged moment passes before Monk eventually nods, huffing air out of his nose in determination. “Yeah… yeah! We’ll find a way out of here and find our colony again!” he proclaims, pumping a triumphant fist in the air—despite still being a little worried for their future.
“That’s the spirit!” Survivor smiles gleefully. Then he looks past the spot where the blue-fruits were. His eyes settle on a pipe, ostensibly leading to their next destination. “Let’s go find our way back,” Survivor murmurs.
To Survivor’s surprise, Monk grabs his hand—holding it firmly. When Survivor turns his head to face his sibling, he sees that Monk’s triumphant smile has shifted into, once again, a slightly nervous one. “S–sorry…”
“Mom isn’t here right now, so it’s fine,” Survivor shrugs. He doubles down, making sure that Monk walks along-side him rather than dragging behind. “Let’s head out.”
Without another word spoken, Monk nods, and the two take off toward the pipe that’s just a short way away in front of them.
…
Little did the pair of siblings know how in-over-their-heads they were.
/ / /