Work Text:
There was fire everywhere. Networks were crumbling, sending large debris crashing to the ground. Explosions rocked the ground.
Agent saw none of these things however. All he could see was Mitsi, his boss pinned under a piece of rubble.
For a moment, their eyes locked. Her eyes were filled with terror. Desperation. Pleading.
Fireball after fireball landed closer and closer to where she was trapped.
Agent rushed towards her, his hands reaching out.
Another fireball landed where Mitsi was trapped, sending smoke billowing towards him.
He couldn’t breathe.
The very air was knocked out of his lungs.
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Agent jerked his head up sharply. His breathing had quickened as his eyes darted around the room.
Newgrounds had disappeared. He was alone in the Rocket Co. surveillance office.
It was just another dream.
He rested his head on the palm of his hand and closed his eyes.
It had been years since her death. Yet somehow, the memory played itself over and over in his mind. Guilt constantly weighed him down.
“I’m sorry, Mitsi,” he whispered. “It should have been me.”
If only he had insisted she follow him.
If only he had gone back sooner.
If only he hadn’t injured himself.
If only…
If only…
I couldn’t save her.
Even to the end, she was looking out for others. She always was one to look out for those less fortunate. Never thinking of herself.
Just like Victim.
Or like he had been.
Agent stared listlessly at the security monitor. His current boss was still sitting alone in a dark room. His head hung down; his shoulders slumped.
Mitsi would have hated to see him like this. He was so unlike the awkward, yet caring grey hollowhead he had been when she was alive. So eager to help people.
Agent sighed heavily as he leaned back in his chair.
7 years.
7 years since Mitsi died.
7 years since victim locked himself away.
He had tried everything he could think of. He talked with victim. He told him what Mitsi would have wanted. He tried to take him out. He even had old friends visit.
Nothing had worked. There was nothing he could do to stir his friend from his depression.
“Agent! Sir!”
Agent stood up with a slight huff. Another worker with some unimportant matter, no doubt. He turned as a grey stick ran into the room. His expression was agitated. “I saw him! He was there!! There was fighting and they were together-”
Agent thrust up his hand. “Tell me exactly what happened. And slowly this time.”
The grey stick stopped short, breathing heavily. His eyes were filled with fear and excitement. “The Chosen One. He was there.”
Something stirred inside Agent. A strange anger simmered deep within him at the mere mention of the name.
The murderer of Mitsi.
Agent’s fists clenched. He could see the black hollowhead, flames bursting out of his hands as he lowered himself towards the ground. Fire lay all beneath him.
Testament of the destruction and death he had wrought.
“Where?” Agent demanded harshly.
“At a large lake. And… and there was…” he stopped short, his eyes growing fearful. “A cursor. They were together.”
Agent remained rooted in place. Thoughts pounded through his head.
This could be what victim needed. To know the truth. To finally have a chance to carry out justice.
To avenge Mitsi.
Agent spoke firmly. “We must get footage of this and show victim.”
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Perhaps, victim would finally step up. It would give him purpose.
A purpose to live and fight.
He would do anything to bring life back to his boss… and old friend.