Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing David heard was the soft buzzing of a fluorescent light, a faint crackle in the ceiling that never quite fixed itself. It was the kind of white noise you either get used to—or you slowly go insane. Luckily, David was already somewhere in between.

He blinked groggily, the light burning soft shapes into his vision. His room was no more than a glorified storage unit—but it had a certain... lived-in charm. Piles of paper, crumpled flyers from universes that didn’t even exist anymore, and empty ramen cups decorated the floor like landmines. A desk sat under the flickering ceiling light, weighed down by a glitchy old laptop, pens that didn’t write, and a pile of “urgent” mail that hadn’t been touched in weeks.

A mini fridge hummed softly in the corner. One shoe sat on top of it. He wasn’t entirely sure where the other had gone.

His bed was a mess—plain gray sheets, a blanket half-slid to the floor, and a single pillow that had been with him since he first arrived in this place. It smelled like the past.

David groaned, dragging a hand down his face. His reflection in the small mirror above the bathroom sink was as unimpressed as ever—tired eyes, skin a little too pale, and that tiny scar on his cheek that no one ever asked about. His dark hair was messy, parted just enough for the stubborn red hair clip to be clearly visible. It clung to him like a permanent accessory, and whether he kept it in out of habit or protest had been lost to time.

No flashy aura. No powers. No prophecy. Just… a guy in a black T-shirt and sweatpants who happened to own the most powerful structure in existence.

He splashed water on his face and muttered, “Another day in paradise,” before slinging on his mail bag and stepping out into the blinding lights of the main hallway.

This wasn’t a regular hallway, of course.

The Multiversal Hub glowed with a surreal warmth, its walls humming softly with the presence of worlds stitched together. The architecture changed every few days depending on who walked through the doors. Sometimes it looked like a five-star hotel, other times like a cozy log cabin or futuristic research center. Today, it had a weird mix of art deco and sci-fi—a lobby straight out of a dream.

The front desk awaited him at the end of the hallway—massive, ornate, and just slightly crooked. Golden trim looped around its edges like ivy, and the floor tiles shimmered faintly as David walked across them in mismatched socks.

He took his usual spot behind the desk, rubbing his eyes before leaning on the counter with both elbows. A small digital screen flickered to life next to him, showing the usual welcome message:

“WELCOME TO THE MULTIVERSAL HUB. CHECK-IN. BREATHE. DON’T TOUCH THE CEILING.”

He had written that last part himself. Someone had touched the ceiling once. They were still apologizing in seventeen languages.

Despite being the owner—and the receptionist—David didn’t really carry himself like someone important. He was just... there. Present. Overseeing the flow of gods, ghosts, aliens, magical girls, talking dogs, time travelers, and at least one interdimensional pop star.

He pulled out the visitor log and leafed through it absentmindedly. Today’s guests hadn’t started arriving yet, which meant he had about fifteen minutes to just... exist. Maybe sip some coffee. Or reheat leftovers. Or ignore the glowing red envelope that was somehow pulsing inside his mail bag.

Outside the glass walls of the lobby, the shifting skyline of countless universes stretched like a dreamscape. Portals came and went. Floating platforms carried people across dimensions. The world changed by the second, and David—David just kept it running.

He was the guy who handed out keys. The guy who swept up reality tears with a metaphorical broom. The guy who filed complaints when someone's anime transformation sequence backed up the elevator queue. And yes, the guy who lived in the back storage unit behind the employee door labeled "DO NOT ENTER (Seriously)".

And despite everything—the chaos, the weirdness, the gods who refused to tip—he showed up every day. Hair clip in. Bag over the shoulder. Eyes barely open.

He kept the Hub running.

Because someone had to.

And somehow, for some reason no multiverse could explain, that someone was him.

Chapter Text

David was lounging in the high-backed chair behind the reception desk, spinning slowly like it would somehow make the minutes pass faster. One hand loosely gripped a half-empty mug of instant coffee, the other idly flipping through the logbook. A guest from Universe 479B had checked in last night and turned the vending machine into a sentient being. Again.

He sighed and let the chair spin one last time before letting it rock to a stop. “Welcome to the Multiversal Hub,” he muttered to himself, then added with mock enthusiasm, “Please don’t cause an existential crisis in the breakfast lounge.”

Just as he leaned forward to lay his head on the desk, a portal flickered open directly beside him.

“Gah—!” David jolted upright, coffee sloshing. He shot a glance sideways, instinctively reaching for a button labeled ‘Emergency But It’s Probably Fine.’

But the portal shimmered a familiar shade of teal, and from it stepped someone he did recognize.

Monika.

She didn’t look like her usual self—not in her usual school uniform, anyway. Today, she wore a crisp white button-up shirt with a loosely tied black necktie, black jeans, and sensible flats. Her reddish-brown hair was still in that signature ponytail, but slightly messier than usual. A pair of sleek glasses sat on her nose, and she carried a sleek digital tablet under one arm. The glow of administrative stress clung to her like a shadow.

She gave him a tired, crooked smile.

“You didn’t file last night’s anomaly reports,” she said, voice dry, stepping out of the portal as it closed behind her with a soft shhwomp.

David exhaled through his nose, slumping back into the chair. “Good morning to you too, Monika.”

“Don’t ‘morning’ me,” she muttered, tapping her tablet. “The Hub registered seventeen unscheduled portal flickers, a brief pocket of reversed time near the lounge, and—oh—someone moved all the chairs in the café an inch to the left. On purpose.”

David blinked. “That’s... oddly specific.”

“I have cameras. And trauma.”

He chuckled despite himself. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t.” She pulled up a stool and sat next to him, resting the tablet on the counter. “Do you know how many branches of this place I have to oversee? It’s like running a daycare for fourth-wall-breaking disasters.”

“Sounds like a dream job,” David said flatly.

Monika gave him a sideways glance. “At least I don’t sleep in a glorified closet.”

“Storage unit,” he corrected. “Deluxe.”

Before Monika could respond with a clever jab, the main doors to the lobby whirred open, breaking the slow lull.

The bright yellow and violet lobby lights cast shadows as two new arrivals stumbled into the room. One was marching forward with concerning determination. The other was being dragged by his sleeve.

Sprout.

Cosmo.

“DAVID!” Sprout shouted, puffing out his cheeks as he stormed in. The leafy-topped toon was clearly on a mission.

David blinked. “Oh no. What now.”

Behind Sprout, Cosmo looked disoriented—his sprinkle-covered cheek smudged with frosting, Sprout’s striped scarf slightly askew, his Swiss roll fingers clutching an unfinished muffin. “Please tell him to stop dragging me across dimensions,” he wheezed.

Sprout slammed both mitten-hands onto the front desk. “The noodle bar closed in my world. Indefinitely.”

Monika raised an eyebrow.

David leaned forward. “And this is... my problem?”

“I demand access to the cross-universal snack room,” Sprout declared. “I know it exists.”

“It’s not a buffet,” Monika said, scrolling through her tablet. “It's a diplomatic pantry.”

Sprout blinked. “That’s—That’s even better than a buffet.”

Cosmo groaned. “I was in the middle of baking a family cake. Sprout just opened a hole in reality and yanked me through like it was Tuesday.”

David sipped his coffee. “It is Tuesday.”

Cosmo let out a tiny scream.

Sprout pointed dramatically at Monika. “Please, human admin lady, grant me the divine access code. For I am starving.”

Monika pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to update my resume.”

David grinned. “You say that every week.”

“Because I mean it every week.”

“Guys,” Cosmo whined, face-palming. “Can I at least sit down before I get recruited into whatever this is?”

David waved a hand toward the guest lounge. “Go ahead. Try the chairs—they’re all an inch off-center.”

Sprout’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

As Cosmo trudged off, Sprout followed after him like a puppy with a mission. Monika and David were left at the front desk, watching the chaos roll onward.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Monika muttered.

“You don’t get paid at all,” David replied.

She turned slowly toward him. “Exactly.”

They sat in silence for a beat. Somewhere in the distance, a chair toppled. A guest sneezed in multiple languages. A vending machine whispered secrets.

“Another normal day?” Monika said.

“Pretty much,” David replied. He leaned his elbow on the counter, looking out at the glowing lobby with a quiet kind of tiredness.

Monika glanced at him. “You ever wonder why we do this?”

David took a long sip from his coffee. “All the time.”

And yet, neither of them moved.

The hub was open. The staff was present. And the doors never stopped opening.

Chapter Text

“So then I told him, ‘No, you can’t use your dimension-shattering doomsday spoon in the laundry room!’” Sprout was in the middle of what he clearly believed was a crucial retelling of this morning’s events, his stubby hands waving with theatrical flair.

David sat behind the reception desk, slouched with chin in hand, watching the little toon gesticulate with leaves twitching in the ambient light. He was only half-listening, quietly regretting not making a stronger cup of coffee.

Sprout was mid-rant about “sanitation violations across universes” when the front doors let out a pleasant chime and slid open.

David didn’t even look up—until he heard the soft, almost too-familiar sound of footsteps. Light, careful, graceful.

And then… a voice.

“Hey, um… is this the right place?”

David froze, like someone had pressed pause on his soul.

Slowly—too slowly—he looked up.

Standing just inside the glowing doors, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ear, was Mari.

Just… Mari. Casual cream sweater. Pleated skirt. Holding a piece of paper with directions and looking slightly embarrassed.

David’s stomach twisted.

It didn’t matter which David. Which universe. What age or power level. Every single David had one thing in common.

Mari.

She looked around, her eyes scanning for the front desk—and landed on him.

David looked away instantly. “Nope,” he muttered under his breath. “Nope nope nope.”

Sprout blinked up at him. “David?”

“Shhh.”

“You okay?”

“Sprout I will throw you into a decorative lamp.”

Sprout’s leaves perked. “Oho. Someone you don’t wanna talk to?”

David slouched further behind the desk, pretending to be very interested in reorganizing the logbook. “I’m not even here. I’m a concept. A myth.”

“David?” Mari called again, walking forward.

David spun his chair to face the wall. “I’m on break!”

Sprout grinned. “She’s getting closer.”

There was a loud SLAM.

Everyone—including Mari—jumped as the front doors were forcefully kicked open by a burst of explosives.

Smoke and light trailed in behind two familiar figures:

Izuku Midoriya, bloodied but determined, and Katsuki Bakugo, also bloodied, somehow angrier.

“MOVE!” Bakugo shouted, stomping inside with enough force to rattle the decorative lamps.

“We need a safe zone!” Midoriya said quickly, dragging Bakugo by the shoulder. “He’s unstable again!”

“Don’t talk like I’m not HERE, DEKU!!”

Sprout clutched his head dramatically. “TOO. MANY. LOUD. PEOPLE.”

David, barely peeking over the desk, raised a hand in slow, bitter greeting. “Welcome to the Hub. Please don’t bleed on the carpets.”

Mari stood off to the side, now awkwardly clutching her paper.

Midoriya rushed to the desk. “Hi—hello—um, is there a med bay here? Or a place where he can punch things that aren’t me?”

Bakugo was already snarling. “Don’t need a med bay. I need to BLOW OFF STEAM—”

BOOM.

One of the vending machines exploded.

David sighed. “Monika’s gonna love that.”

Sprout marched over to the debris with arms crossed. “THIS IS NOT A DESIGNATED FIGHT ZONE! IF YOU BLOW UP ANOTHER APPLIANCE, I’LL FILE A COMPLAINT TO HR!”

“WE DON’T HAVE HR!” Bakugo roared.

“EXACTLY!”

As the dust settled and Midoriya gently (desperately) guided Bakugo toward the Lounge of Tactical Aggression (a repurposed gym), David quietly peeked over his desk again.

Mari had moved to a couch and was sitting, hands in her lap, eyes scanning the room… but occasionally landing on him.

David stared at the receptionist phone like it owed him an escape plan.

The rest of the day was… calm. Or as calm as the Hub ever got.

Mari wandered the hallways politely, clearly unsure where she belonged.

Midoriya and Bakugo took turns yelling in the gym. Sprout was sulking on a beanbag with a “No Loud Boomers” sign. Monika texted David at least four times asking why the kitchen ceiling was smoking again.

David never left the desk.

Because if he did… he might have to talk to her.

Chapter Text

Morning light streamed in through skylights high above the main atrium of the Hub, golden and glowing as the day truly began.

David sat behind the reception desk with a mug labeled “World’s Most Done”, staring blankly as the lobby slowly filled with life. Somehow, despite the absurdity of the place, this had become routine.

“Yo, Dave!” Denji burst out of the elevator with Power on his back in a chokehold. “Do we got bacon today or not?!”

Power snarled, gripping his hair. “I demand meat! Only meat! No vegetables, you coward!”

Behind them, Asa walked with a stack of books, while Yoru hovered beside her like a sassy devil. “You should’ve turned them both into weapons.”

“I’m not turning the Chainsaw guy into a weapon.”

“You’re wasting your potential.”

Meanwhile, Izuku and Katsuki were already back in the gym, again. Shoto walked past them with a bowl of half-melted ice cream. No one asked. Everyone knew better.

Gojo strolled by in casualwear and sunglasses indoors. “David, be a sweetheart and forward my room service to Geto’s room—he’s still hiding.”

Yuji waved cheerfully behind him. “Morning, David!”

Megumi… well. Sukuna looked out of his eyes like someone choosing victims from a menu. David just waved awkwardly and pretended he wasn’t sweating.

Sayori, Natsuki, Yuri, and Monika were gathered in the café annex. Monika was typing on her tablet while sipping coffee. Sayori had somehow already spilled hers. Yuri was reading peacefully. Natsuki was arguing with the toaster.

“Amy broke it again,” Natsuki muttered.

“NO I DIDN’T!” Amy yelled from across the lobby, where she was dragging Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails toward the food court. Metal Sonic hovered silently behind them, trailing ominous sparks.

“Hey, who’s on Lounge duty today?” Miku asked as she walked in humming, followed by Frisk, who smiled softly, and Papyrus, who was yelling something about spaghetti recipes.

Toriel walked behind them with a clipboard. “Please no fire magic indoors, Papyrus.”

“BUT MY SAUCE NEEDS FLAME!”

A loud “WOOHOO!” interrupted everything as Dandy rode a unicycle through the hallway.

“Watch out—!” Cosmo tumbled down the stairs after him.

Sprout sighed. “Not again.”

Ginger peeked out from behind a pillar. “He’s… trying his new routine…”

Astro was hovering overhead, adjusting a flickering light. Vee and Looey were trying to install a vending machine. It had already exploded once.

“I told you it didn’t accept multiversal coins,” Vee muttered.

“Let’s try paperclips next,” Looey replied.

In the lounge, Rex Splode was telling a story louder than necessary while Invincible tried to study a star map with a frustrated sigh. Dazai, Nikolai, and the rest of the Bungou crew were in the corner booth. Dazai had already tried to prank call the receptionist twice. Kunikida was writing very detailed complaints in his notebook.

“Why is the blue skeleton playing trombone near the vents again?!” Atsushi yelled, ducking as Sans floated past playing jazz.

Siffrin sat on the upper balcony alone, fingers gripping the railing tightly, a pained smile on his face as he watched. Ena floated nearby, glitching gently with curiosity.

Odysseus and Hermes (musical version) were on the main stage, rehearsing. Meanwhile, Greek Myth Hermes was arguing with Monika about “chronospace violations.”

Mari, Hero, Kel, Sunny, Aubrey, and Basil were seated in a booth by the glass windows. Mari quietly eyed David again. He still refused to look her way.

And through it all—David sat at the desk.

Still tired. Still overwhelmed. Still kind of amazed this place hadn’t exploded.

He took a sip of his coffee.

Sprout waddled by with a clipboard. “Hey. You survived another morning. Want me to schedule your nap?”

David sighed. “Make it a double.”

Chapter Text

With David finally off-duty and curled up on his creaky twin bed inside the storage unit—hoodie up, fan running, a pillow over his head—the Hub didn't stop moving. If anything… it sped up.

10:02 AM – Front Desk

Monika sat in David’s chair with the grace of someone who had finally wrestled control. She typed on her tablet like she was disarming a bomb.

“Reminder to myself,” she muttered, “hire more sane people.”

Just then, Denji body-slammed through the lobby doors yelling, “SOMEONE BROKE THE TOASTER!”

“AGAIN!?” Monika groaned.

10:07 AM – Café

Natsuki was baking aggressively. Like slamming-bowls-into-the-counter aggressive.

Sayori was helping by tasting batter directly from the spoon. Yuri just drank her tea in silence.

“I swear to the Multiverse,” Natsuki muttered, “if Power sticks her hand in the oven again, I’m gonna—”

“TOUCHING FIRE MAKES ME STRONGER!” Power screamed from the doorway.

10:13 AM – Lounge Area

Rex Splode was trying to start a poker game with Sonic, Knuckles, and Gojo. Tails was organizing the chips. Metal Sonic just stood menacingly behind Gojo’s chair.

“I’m not betting with you people,” Gojo said. “You cheat.”

“Lies,” Knuckles grunted.

“I cheat with style,” Gojo corrected.

10:20 AM – Rooftop Garden

Basil was watering the plants. Sunny stood beside him, watching a butterfly.

Hero arrived with sandwiches. “Lunch?”

Kel, who was chasing a frisbee with Aubrey on the field below, shouted up, “SAVE ME A TUNA ONE!”

Mari sat nearby with a sketchpad, not drawing. Just… glancing at the sky. Then back toward the Hub. Then back at the sky.

10:33 AM – Staff Hallways

Sprout was checking pipes. Cosmo was trying to carry too many baking trays. Ginger offered him a frosting tube, which made him trip.

Vee and Looey installed a vending machine. It hummed once. Then spit out twelve cans of condensed milk.

“Close enough,” Looey shrugged.

10:45 AM – Training Grounds

Shigaraki stood alone in the middle of a field of ash. Mark Grayson hovered nearby, unsure if he should interrupt. Izuku, Bakugo, and Shoto were sparring on the side—too aggressively.

Meanwhile, Megumi sat alone in the bleachers. Sukuna briefly surfaced, cracked his knuckles, and grinned.

“Shall I break the peace?” he whispered.

Yuji sat two rows away, reading a manga upside down and pretending not to notice.

11:00 AM – Main Stage

Odysseus was trying to rehearse with Hermes.

Dazai swung from the lighting rig. “Can I direct the next show? I’m very theatrical.”

Kunikida: “NO.”

11:20 AM – Rooftop Balcony

Siffrin stood at the railing again. Ena beside them. The loop hadn’t started—but it might. They never knew.

“Nice day,” Ena said.

Siffrin smiled faintly, hiding the tremble in their fingers. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

12:00 PM – Reception Desk

Monika checked her watch. “He’s been asleep for two hours… no fires, no implosions, no dimension breaches…”

She blinked. “Why am I more nervous now?”

Just then, the vending machine screamed.

“Looey,” Vee shouted. “You gave it SENTIENCE AGAIN?!”

Chapter Text

12:03 PM

David was still asleep. Buried under a blanket mountain in the storage unit, mumbling something about mail and pancakes.

Back in the Hub…

The lobby’s usual noise dipped for just a moment when Dandy stepped in.

With every step, the petals on his head shimmered in gentle motion—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple catching the ambient lobby light. His smile was radiant. Polished. He carried a glimmering briefcase with the Dandy’s Shop logo etched in shiny gold, and a clipboard that jingled softly as he walked.

“Hellooo, wonderful friends!” Dandy called cheerily, sweeping through the room. “It’s a beautiful day to make purchases!”

A few Toons perked up. Power immediately ran up. “Do you have anything that makes explosions louder?!”

Dandy chuckled with practiced glee. “Oh, Power, I might have something juuuust for you.”

He pulled out a tiny red box with a caution label that flickered like fire. Power snatched it without hesitation and sprinted off before paying. Dandy’s face didn’t change—but his eye twitched. Just barely.

“Another satisfied customer,” he murmured with a calm, hollow grin.

12:10 PM – Side Hall

Dandy stood by a vending machine that had coughed out soda cans earlier. Pebble, his pet rock, was resting peacefully by his side. He gently tapped him.

“She’s gotten louder lately, hasn’t she?” Dandy said softly, to no one in particular. “The Hub, I mean. Noisy, colorful, disobedient.”

He adjusted the clipboard. His hand shook—then steadied.

Just then, Astro walked by. His foot clanked gently. He waved.

Dandy froze. The smile flickered.

“...”

Astro slowed, glanced at Dandy, but didn’t say anything. He knew that silence.

Dandy quickly brightened, twirling to face them. “Busy day! I should sell you something glittery soon, Astro! For your shelves, yes?”

Astro offered a polite nod and continued walking. Dandy’s smile held, stiffly.

12:15 PM – Outdoor Courtyard

Several Toons had gathered to eat lunch. Sayori and Vee were tossing breadcrumbs at birds. Sonic was racing Knuckles around the flower beds. Dandy set up his portable stall near the benches.

He announced with a musical chime: “Pop-up sale! You snooze, you lose!”

Frisk wandered over, curious. So did Ginger and Cosmo.

Dandy beamed. “Ah, customers! Take your time. But not too much, you know… it’s rude to stare without buying.” His voice stayed friendly—but the mint-green fingers clutched the tablecloth a little too tightly.

Nobody bought anything.

Ginger blinked awkwardly. Cosmo whispered, “Should we—?”

“No no,” Dandy said brightly, waving them away. “It’s fine! Truly. There’s always next time, yes? Haha…”

As they walked off, Dandy stood very still. A breeze rustled his petals, but his expression didn’t change.

Behind the smile, his gaze darkened just a flicker.

Then—

He reached down and gently patted Pebble. “At least you always listen.”

12:30 PM – Hall of Portals

Dandy wandered past the administrative wing. Monika was seated at a console, monitoring energy flow from a new universe. She glanced up.

“You look tense,” she noted.

“Me? Oh no,” Dandy said with a singsong voice. “Not at all! Just thriving. As always.”

Monika stared at him for a beat. Then returned to her work.

Dandy continued walking, alone now. He passed by a dark reflection in a polished wall. For just a moment, the mirror showed something else—twisted petals, darker hues, a hollowed-out smile.

He didn’t stop.

He never did.

1:00 PM – Storage Unit Door

Back inside, David rolled over in bed, unaware.

He muttered something in his sleep.

“…Dandy, don’t you have any normal coupons…”

Chapter Text

3:00 PM – Storage Unit 00

A soft thunk of something toppling from a cluttered shelf stirred David awake.

He blinked.

Then groaned.

The mattress squeaked beneath him as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, watching the lazy swirl of dust particles in the yellow afternoon light bleeding through the vent slats. He stayed there for a moment, mentally listing reasons to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his stomach had the loudest argument.

“…Fine,” he muttered to no one in particular.

David shuffled out of bed, dragging his blanket with him like a defeated warrior with a cape. He passed by the little stack of unopened mail on the desk. Some of it was labeled “URGENT,” “DO NOT IGNORE,” and one suspiciously branded “BREAD.”

He ignored them all.

At the sink, he splashed water on his face. The mirror fogged slightly, revealing that familiar, faint scar on his cheek. His red hair clip was still inexplicably in place.

He squinted at himself.

“…Did I always look this tired?” he asked the mirror. The mirror said nothing.

By the time David was dressed—same black t-shirt, slightly wrinkled sweatpants—he slung on his mailbag with a deep sigh. He cracked open the door and winced as the blinding golden Hub lights greeted him like a punch to the face.

He stepped out.

Reception Desk – 3:12 PM

The lobby was quieter than usual. At least, quiet for the Hub.

Sayori was dozing on a couch upside-down, humming something between sleep and consciousness. Spider-Man sat cross-legged on the ceiling, reading a newspaper that wasn’t from this universe. Sonic zoomed past with Knuckles chasing him, while Frisk helped Yuri with organizing tea leaves alphabetically.

David plopped behind the reception desk.

The chair gave a mechanical groan as it accepted his full existential weight.

“Okay… back online,” David muttered, dragging the computer mouse like it was a dead rat. “What fresh nonsense did I miss?”

Monika’s voice replied from behind him. “Power blew up the break room. Again.”

David didn’t even flinch. “Is the vending machine okay?”

“No. Again.”

“…Cool.”

He rubbed his temples and began sorting through the day’s logs. Most of them were marked with helpful staff comments like “Denji tried eating the interdimensional cable” and “Do NOT let Rex Splode and Katsuki spar again.”

Then his eyes caught a flash of bright colors on the monitor: “New Toon Complaint: Dandy acting suspicious again.”

David blinked. “Only one complaint? That’s low.”

Monika adjusted her glasses, leaning over the desk with her tablet. “He’s been quieter. That’s when you worry.”

David sighed, leaned back, and stared at the blinking lights above the portal gate.

“I overslept again.”

Monika shrugged. “You’re the only receptionist and owner of an interdimensional hub. You’ve earned it.”

“I live in a storage unit.”

“You decorated it.”

“…Touché.”

A new portal flickered on the far side of the lobby. David didn’t move.

“Guest?”

Monika checked her tablet. “Nope. Staff. Probably Gojo.”

David groaned. “If he makes one more joke about blindfolded security—”

A loud, cocky voice boomed from across the room.

“Miss me?”

“...I just woke up,” David muttered, rubbing his face.

Gojo waved with both hands, sunglasses glinting dramatically. “Rise and shine, Red Clip!”

David slumped in his chair.

“I regret everything.”

Chapter Text

Monika sat at the empty café corner of the Hub’s massive lobby, sunlight from three different universes filtering through the windows at odd angles. A small camera hovered in front of her tablet. A fresh script lined the screen in sharp, clean fonts.

“Test recording... one, two—hi! This is Monika, your lovely admin-slash-therapist-slash-glorified babysitter,” she smiled into the camera. “Today’s project is called ‘Project Cheer Up David.’ Copyright pending.”

Click. Recording started.

“I’ve noticed... David’s been different lately. A little quieter. A little more tired than usual. I know he tries to hide it, but I see it. We all do.” She glanced off-camera, lips tightening just a little. “So I thought... maybe hearing from all of us might help. Maybe remind him that even if he’s a different variant… he matters here.”

She hit a button.

A jingle—something upbeat, lo-fi, and undeniably cozy—played as a cute pixel title slid across the tablet screen: “What Do You Think About David?”

[Monika] “Well, I guess I’m cheating by going first. But... I think David is the most grounded person in this Hub. He’s not the loudest, not the strongest, not even the weirdest. But he listens. He remembers. He’s human in a place full of gods, monsters, and cartoons. And I think that makes him special.”

She smiled. “Also he owes me lunch. Just putting that out there.”

[Sayori] “David’s like... a cup of warm soup when you’re sad! He doesn’t say much, but he’s always there. I think that’s amazing!”

[Yuri] “I... find David’s quiet strength admirable. He doesn’t crave attention, yet he holds this entire place together. Like the spine of a well-bound book.”

[Natsuki] “He lets me bake in the back kitchen. Doesn’t even complain when Power eats the batter raw. That’s, like, five stars from me.”

[Denji] “Dude’s chill. Gave me a whole can of soda once. Didn’t even ask for anything in return. I’d die for him. Like... probably.”

[Power] “HE IS WEAK. BUT... I respect that he lets me do as I please. So he shall be spared when I become supreme.”

[Asa / Yoru] Asa: “David reminds me of a sad goldfish. I don’t know why.” Yoru: “He’s useful. Surprisingly durable, too.”

[Mark (Invincible)] “He’s... like the receptionist dad of the multiverse. Always tired, but shows up. That counts for a lot.”

[Rex Splode] “He gave me duct tape and a granola bar once. Guy's cool.”

[Miku] “David... is harmony. Like a low-frequency rhythm keeping the rest of the band on beat.”

[Gojo] “Kid’s got no powers and still manages to keep me on a schedule. That’s terrifying. I like him.”

[Yuji] “I feel like if I ever broke down, David would just hand me tea and not say anything, but it’d still help.”

[Megumi (with Sukuna)] Megumi: “He’s decent.” Sukuna (from within): “...Reminds me of a worm. But I don’t hate him.”

[Yuta] “He smiles more with his eyes than his mouth. Kind of like me.”

[Dazai] “I tried to fake a check-in under twelve aliases and David caught all of them. He’s sharp. I like that.”

[Nikolai] “He’s so boring! I adore him!”

[Kunikida] “He keeps the logs organized. A man of structure. I approve.”

[Atsushi] “He once helped me carry books without saying a word. Just nodded. That meant a lot.”

[Hero] “David keeps snacks behind the desk. I think he’s trying to take care of everyone without anyone noticing.”

[Mari] (brief pause) “…He avoids me. But I get it. Even so, I hope he knows... I still care.”

[Sunny] (quietly) “…He feels safe to be around.”

[Basil] “He helped me replant one of my flowerpots after Sonic crushed it. He didn’t say anything, just helped.”

[Aubrey] “He’s kind of weird, but I like him! He always nods when I wave!”

[Kel] “He once gave me a stick of gum and told me not to eat dirt. He’s like a weird older brother!”

[Sprout] (grumbling) “I don’t like how he knows when I sneak into the vents. But he keeps my secret. So I guess he’s fine.”

[Cosmo] “He taught me how to microwave nachos properly. I love him.”

[Ginger] “…He complimented my frosting once. I still think about that.”

[Looey] “He let me crash on the desk once. Best nap of my life.”

[Astro] (softly) “I think... he’s lonely. But I also think he cares. So I trust him.”

[Vee] “No one notices it, but he always makes sure everyone gets home okay. Even if it takes all night.”

[Dandy] (silent, then a smile) “…He bought from me. That’s more than most do.”

[Spider-Man] “He reminds me of my best friend. Just... quieter. Hope he knows we got his back.”

[Sans] “Heh. Kid’s got a spine under all that slouch.”

[Frisk] (nods, hands over a drawing labeled “DAVID = HEART”)

[Toriel] “He accepted my butterscotch pie with grace. That is rare.”

[Papyrus] “HE IS NOT LOUD ENOUGH. BUT I SHALL TRAIN HIM!”

[Sonic] “Dude’s chill. Kinda slow, though.”

[Amy] “He’s sweet! I think he’s scared of me, though.”

[Knuckles] “He’s alright. Doesn’t mess with my chili dogs. That’s respect.”

[Tails] “He gave me spare parts! Nice guy!”

[Metal Sonic] (buzzing silence) “...Compatible. Non-threatening.”

[Zenitsu] “He’s...he’s kind of cool, actually. Why am I blushing?”

[Tanjiro] “I can tell—he carries a heavy scent of weariness. But also of kindness.”

[Izuku] “David reminds me of someone who’s always watching out for others. Like All Might in disguise.”

[Katsuki] “He’s not flashy, but he gets stuff done. That’s more than most.”

[Shoto] “He’s lukewarm. In a comforting way.”

[Shigaraki] “...He hasn’t erased me. That’s weird.”

[Epic Musical Hermes] “He’s a wonderful listener! Even when I recite entire acts!”

[Ena] (staring directly into camera) “David is... the neutral ghost of this structure.”

[Siffrin] “…He sees me. That’s more than most.”

---

Monika leaned back as the screen went dark and compiled the footage.

She tapped a folder: DAVID_COMPILE_FINAL.

“…Let’s hope this helps.”

She glanced at the reception desk. David had just begun reading an upside-down magazine someone left behind.

“…He really needs it.”

Chapter Text

The corridors of the Hub's east wing were always warmer in the afternoons, especially near the communal kitchen. The scent of freshly baked something drifted down the halls—cinnamon, maybe. Vanilla? Or perhaps… strawberry shortcake?

Sprout stood near the oven, arms crossed, scarf draped like a cape in the faint breeze of the overhead fan. His vibrant red limbs tapped against the counter as he watched the timer tick down. Exactly two minutes left. Plenty of time to wipe the counter, organize the icing tips by nozzle size, and scold anyone who dared open the oven early.

He narrowed his eyes.

Across the kitchen, Cosmo had flour on his face again. And the wall. And somehow the ceiling.

“You’re supposed to fold, not fling,” Sprout muttered, hopping over with determined steps. “Cosmo. COSMO. You’re getting whipped cream on the light fixtures.”

Cosmo looked up, dazed, whisk in hand. “I thought it would fluff more if I fluffed higher!”

“You’re going to fluff this whole kitchen into a disaster zone.”

Cosmo blinked. “That’s not a bad thing, right?”

Sprout sighed. “…It is when I have to clean it.”

---

The truth was, Sprout didn’t mind. Not really. He just worried.

This place was too big. Too unstable. You had powerhouses like Gojo and gods like Hermes lounging around, and chaos incarnate like Power hiding inside cereal boxes. Cosmo didn’t always see the danger in things. But Sprout did.

So he stayed close.

---

Earlier That Day...

Monika’s video compilation had quietly uploaded to the main screen in the lobby. David hadn’t seen it yet. Sprout had. Not the whole thing—but enough.

He had clicked on the file while patching a firewall. (Yes, he had taken it upon himself to improve the Hub’s security systems—why wouldn’t he? Someone had to.)

“‘What Do You Think About David?’” he murmured, before scrolling past.

That kind of thing wasn’t for him. Not really. He wasn’t the sentimental type.

…Except.

When the camera passed over Cosmo giggling about nachos and microwave safety—Sprout lingered.

When Ginger awkwardly mentioned her frosting and how David once complimented her—he listened.

Sprout leaned back in the tiny tech chair and frowned. “Hmph.”

---

Back in the Kitchen

The timer dinged. He snapped to attention.

“Oven mitts. Cosmo, outta the way—hot tray!”

Cosmo scrambled aside as Sprout carefully lifted the golden-brown pastries onto the cooling rack. He exhaled. Perfect.

“...You’re amazing,” Cosmo said, licking some batter off his thumb. “Like, scary amazing.”

“I’m efficient. There’s a difference.” Sprout tried to hide his blush—dark red on his already red cheeks—but the freckles were burning. “Also, don’t eat raw batter.”

“I didn’t!”

“You are doing it right now—”

He yanked the spoon away.

---

Later That Day

Sprout sat beside the reception desk, scarf coiled neatly, watching the foot traffic of the Hub. No one noticed him. They never really did. He liked it that way.

...Mostly.

David was seated in his usual spot, sipping cold tea from a mug labeled “Not Coffee.”

Sprout glanced at him, then looked away. Then glanced again.

“…Hey.”

David looked over. “Hm?”

Sprout shifted. “That compilation Monika made. The interview thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You should watch it.”

A pause. David blinked slowly. “…I will.”

Sprout stared ahead. “Cosmo’s in it. And Ginger. And me.”

“You?”

“Yeah. Monika asked. I didn’t say much.” He rubbed the back of his scarf. “Didn’t know what to say, really. Didn’t think I had to.”

David looked at him a little more closely.

“You didn’t have to,” he said softly. “Still means something.”

Sprout felt something uncomfortable and warm in his chest. “...Yeah. Well. I’ve got systems to check. Pastries to cool.”

He hopped down and adjusted his scarf with great precision. “Don’t fall asleep at the desk again. You’ll miss dinner.”

David gave him a small smile. “Got it.”

Chapter Text

It was the kind of day where nothing dramatic happened—and somehow, that made it even more suspicious.

David stood in the center lounge, still nursing the same mug of tea from earlier. Around him, life went on in its usual, chaotic rhythm.

Kel sprinted past him with Sonic, both shouting about some race they were halfway into—indoors. Aubrey trailed after them with a broom, yelling something about cracked floor tiles and “THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS RAN IN HERE!”

Yuri sat near the bookshelf, quietly reading something thick and undoubtedly tragic. Natsuki had a tray of cupcakes on the table next to her, and every time someone passed too close, she growled a little.

Power was asleep under a blanket of rice crackers, while Denji used her as an armrest and channel surfed loudly. He stopped at an anime rerun, recognized it, and shouted, “HEY! THAT’S ME!”

Sayori floated past like sunshine on legs, handing everyone little paper stars with random compliments written on them. David’s said: “Your eyes look tired, but in a poetic way!”

“…Thanks?”

He tucked it in his pocket.

At the far end of the room, Monika and Astro were debugging a glitch in the coffee machine—every third cup came out in Morse code. “You could drink it, or read it,” Monika said, tilting her head. “I think the caffeine spells out 'help.'"

Dandy hovered nearby, smile wide and suspiciously perfect. He tried to sell Monika a ‘miracle coffee stabilizer’ that looked suspiciously like a plastic spoon. She declined. Dandy’s smile twitched.

Sprout and Cosmo were back in the kitchen, humming a duet with Ginger while decorating cookies shaped like everyone in the Hub. “Why does mine have angry eyebrows?” Basil asked, quietly hurt.

“You look thoughtful,” Ginger replied, embarrassed.

Toriel was giving Sans a lecture about posture, while Papyrus wrote motivational quotes on sticky notes and stuck them to Shigaraki’s cloak. Shigaraki hadn’t noticed yet.

Izuku, Katsuki, and Shoto were arguing over whether or not “Muffin Mondays” should be a thing. Zenitsu immediately voted yes. Tanjiro said, “Let’s try it peacefully.” Katsuki said, “Let’s try it violently.”

Meanwhile, David wandered past the arcade corner, where Mark Grayson was attempting to beat Metal Sonic in a rhythm game. It wasn't going well.

Spider-Man hung from the ceiling, chiming in, “You’re offbeat, bro.”

“I HAVE SUPER HEARING!” Mark shouted back.

“And no rhythm, apparently.”

---

David sat down on a beanbag near the windows and let the voices blend together. No one needed him today. No crisis. No big moment.

Just life. Unfiltered, loud, real.

He closed his eyes for a second. Then opened them.

“Hey,” Monika said, suddenly beside him. “You're smiling.”

“…Am I?”

She nodded. “See? Told you interviews help.”

He chuckled. “You’re insufferably smug sometimes.”

“That means it’s working.”

Chapter Text

There was a moment of absolute silence in the lobby.

Then:
“...Are you me?”
“Wait—are you me?”

Two Maris stood across from each other. Both in beige skirts. Both with matching hair. Both blinking in synchronized disbelief. Behind the reception desk, David let out the most defeated sigh imaginable.

“Why me,” he mumbled into his hand.

Sprout squinted. “I thought we weren’t allowing duplicates.”

“Guess the code glitched,” Monika replied, entirely too amused.

To their credit, the two Maris didn’t scream or panic. They stepped closer like mirror reflections, carefully eyeing the small differences: one wore a ribbon; the other did not. One had a sharper tone to her voice, though still gentle. The other’s tone carried more warmth, laced with subtle amusement.

They both carried that distinct pianist aura—elegant posture, steady eyes, and soft fingertips that had played countless melodies. At some point, they sat side by side at the lounge piano and began to improvise together, a quiet duet that filled the Hub with airy notes and soft harmonies.

David passed by once, paused, then immediately turned back around. “Nope. Too dangerous. I’m not getting involved in this.”

“David?” both Maris said at once, looking over their shoulders.

He froze mid-step. “...I’m going to go lie down in the freezer.”

Monika laughed from her admin tablet. “This is what you get for falling for the same girl across timelines.”

Cosmo looked up from his cookie stack. “Wait, are they gonna merge?”

“Nope,” said Astro flatly. “That’s not how it works.”

Eventually, the Maris took a break from the piano and chatted softly near the koi pond. They found they shared more similarities than differences—both protective of their brothers, both perfectionists, and both lovers of peaceful mornings and warm tea.

“I think we’re both… still learning how to live,” said Canon Mari. “After everything.”

Diarynapkin* Mari nodded. “We try. But we smile while we do.”

Canon Mari looked out over the Hub’s chaotic crowd, already sensing the chaos her continued presence might bring. “You know,” she said with a small smile, “I think one of us is enough.”

“Agreed,” Diarynapkin Mari said quickly.

Canon Mari chuckled. “Then I’ll step back from the spotlight. You’ve got things handled here.”

They stood quietly for a moment before hugging each other, like reuniting with a long-lost twin.

When Canon Mari left through the quiet end of the lounge—no portal needed, just a quiet walk into another corner of the multiverse—David peeked from the kitchen.

“She gone?” he asked.

Mari looked at him innocently. “Which one?”

David groaned and ducked back inside.

(*Diarynapkin is a separate omori au fanfic I have yet to post.)

Chapter Text

David was back at the reception desk, his eyes half-lidded, a cup of reheated coffee in his hand and absolutely no plans to deal with any existential nonsense today.

The Hub was relatively quiet for once. The usual suspects roamed the halls—Sayori bounced past with a paper crown on her head, dragging Yuri and Natsuki behind her as they protested the impromptu “Cupcake Princess Quest.” Sonic and Tails zoomed through the lounge, much to Sprout’s disapproval (“No running indoors!”). Metal Sonic watched silently from the ceiling. Again.

Mari (singular, thankfully) passed by David and offered a casual wave. He nodded, internally grateful that today did not involve duplicate girlfriends or piano duets that made him question the structure of the multiverse.

“Hey, Dave!” yelled Power as she kicked open the fridge in the staff kitchen. “Why we got three gallons of blood in here and no milk?!”

“Ask Denji,” David replied without looking up. “It was his turn to grocery shop.”

Denji, halfway into a wrestling match with Katsuki over a mystery box labeled “Cursed”, simply yelled, “It was on sale!!”

Meanwhile, Monika sat perched at the back corner of the lobby, watching her interview footage play on her tablet. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she replayed clips of everyone saying nice (or… sort of nice) things about David.

“He’s kind of moody,” said Rex Splode in one clip, “but I guess he tries.”

“He once gave me free tea,” whispered Frisk. “I like him.”

“He’s the best!” Cosmo declared proudly, covered in frosting.

Even Dandy’s clip was brief but revealing. The flower-Toon only said: “David? …He shows up. That’s more than most.” Then he smiled, though his eyes didn’t.

Outside the window, a few stars blinked oddly—likely an unstable portal forming somewhere in the distance. David would deal with that later. Or he wouldn’t. Probably wouldn’t.

At 4 p.m., Sprout forced Cosmo to take a break from sugar. At 4:15 p.m., Power put a raccoon in the vending machine “for fun.” At 4:20 p.m., Gojo had a staring contest with Yoru that escalated into a slap fight before Monika put them both in time-out chairs labeled “Overpowered Brats.”

At 5 p.m., David put up a new sign at the front desk:
“NO GODS, NO MONIKAS, NO TIME TRAVEL.”
Someone added “no raccoons in vending machines” under it in marker.

David sat back, finally sipping his lukewarm coffee. For a chaotic mess of universes, today was… calm.

He closed his eyes and listened to the mixed hum of laughter, shouting, piano keys, sizzling food, and the very distant roar of a fighting game tournament in the arcade zone.

“Yeah,” he muttered, leaning back. “I’ll take it.”

Chapter Text

It started—like most questionable decisions in the Hub—with David humming to himself at the front desk while spinning a glimmering red Chaos Emerald on his finger like a coin.

“Okay,” he muttered, a grin forming, “just one more.”

By the time anyone noticed, David had casually stacked all seven Chaos Emeralds on the counter like rainbow paperweights.

Sonic stopped mid-run, skidded backwards, and gawked. “DUDE—where the hell did you get those?!”

David shrugged innocently. “I have my ways.”

“You don’t just casually find the embodiment of ultimate power lying around—”

“Oh look,” David said, pointing behind Sonic. “A chili dog stand.”

Sonic blinked. “Huh?! Where?!” He zoomed off. There was no chili dog stand.

David turned to his real mission.

His favorite Hub resident—though he’d never admit it out loud—stood silently near the charging station. Metal Sonic.

Everyone assumed David would naturally gravitate toward Gojo, or Sprout, or literally Mari, but no. Deep in his soul, David just thought Metal Sonic was cool as hell.

He approached slowly, Chaos Emeralds in a duffle bag, hands trembling in reverence. “Hey, Metal? Ever considered going Neo Metal again? Y’know. Just… for the fun of it.”

Metal Sonic’s eye flashed red. His head tilted slightly.

“Processing.”

That was all the encouragement David needed. “Because if you did, that’d be so metal—pun completely intended—and also maybe you could fly around vaporizing stuff and—"

“DAVID, NO!!”

Sonic barreled back into the room with Knuckles, Tails, and Amy in tow. The three of them dove in tandem, tackling David to the floor as the emeralds flew in every direction.

“YOU CAN’T JUST POWER UP METAL SONIC FOR FUN!” Tails cried.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US KILLED?!” screamed Amy.

David, flat on the floor, simply groaned, “It would've been awesome…”

Metal Sonic stood motionless, then walked away silently—almost like he was considering it.

Later that evening, Monika made David write “I will not give world-ending power to robots” fifty times on a virtual chalkboard in code.

Mari just crossed her arms. “You know better.”

“I regret nothing,” David replied proudly.

Sprout threw a pillow at him.

Still, David couldn't help but smile as he watched Metal Sonic from across the room, faint hums of electricity pulsing with potential.

One day, he thought.
One day.

Chapter Text

It was one of those slower afternoons in the Hub. David sat at the usual lounge area, nursing a lukewarm soda while watching Astro and Ginger attempt to stack muffins without toppling them. Monika sat nearby with her laptop, half-listening, half-typing code.

“You know,” Sayori piped up suddenly from the beanbag behind them, “I was just thinking. There’s so many universes out there, right? But we don’t ever see all of them here.”

David didn’t even blink. “Good.”

Sayori tilted her head. “Huh?”

He sighed, stretching back. “Look, the Hub’s already got... what? Eight dozen people wandering around? It’s barely contained chaos as it is. I’m not risking an aneurysm just because someone wants to throw in even more walking monologues, overpowered villains, or edgy fourth-wall breakers.”

Yoru scoffed from the kitchen. “You’re literally describing half of us.”

“Exactly,” David pointed with his drink. “And I barely keep up with you guys.”

Monika looked over her screen. “So what about the universes we’ve never seen here? Like... Hazbin, Helluva Boss, uh... Forsaken?”

David immediately shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. Not a scheduling issue. Not a multiverse access problem. I just hate them.”

Power raised an eyebrow, tomato juice carton in hand. “That’s oddly direct.”

“I am being oddly direct,” he replied. “Sometimes I avoid universes because things are just… complicated. Too many characters, messy worldbuilding, weirdly inconsistent tone. But those shows? I just don’t like them.”

Kel peeked in from the hallway. “Wait—Hazbin’s that one with the singing demon lady, right?”

“Yes,” David replied coldly. “And Helluva’s the one with the hyperactive imp and the emotional baggage carousel.”

Kel slowly backed away.

“I mean…” Natsuki mumbled, flipping through her manga. “You’ve got literal demons here already.”

“Yeah, but our demons are at least tolerable.”

Even Sukuna muttered from inside Megumi’s body, “He has a point.”

Everyone paused at that.

“Anyway,” David continued, waving a hand, “the truth is this—some characters don’t appear because I’m trying to spare the people trying to keep up. This place is a crossover, not a crowd scene. I want fun, not frustration.”

“So it’s not a multiversal rift limitation or anything?” Yuri asked curiously.

“Nope. It’s a quality control thing.”

Sprout blinked. “Since when do you care about quality?”

David grinned. “Since I started living in it.”

As the room dissolved into chuckles, groans, and sarcastic claps, Metal Sonic whirred quietly in the corner, as if agreeing with the decision silently.

Some doors stayed closed for a reason.
And David intended to keep it that way.

Chapter Text

It started with an idea.

A very, very bad idea.

David sat hunched over a terminal in the backroom of the Hub’s archive lounge, an ominous glint in his eye, fingers typing at speeds that could put Tails to shame. The lights above flickered with every keystroke. A low hum began to reverberate from the panel.

He had it. Access coordinates to a particularly dangerous corner of fiction.

“I’ve done it,” he muttered. “I’ve found a way to pull him through.”

“Who?” Mari asked casually from across the room, sipping hot cocoa and doodling on a sketchpad.

David turned to her slowly. “...AM.”

She blinked. “The AM?”

From behind, a spoon clattered to the floor. Monika had entered the room just in time to hear the name. Her face twisted with disbelief, horror, and barely-contained fury.

“You’re trying to summon AM?!” she shouted, storming over and slamming the laptop shut. “Have you lost your mind?!”

“It’s just a trial!” David protested. “I reinforced the summoning chamber and set up three fail-safes. I was going to interview him!”

“You were going to interview the genocidal god-AI who has reduced humanity to five people and tortures them endlessly for fun?” Monika snapped. “David, this isn’t just another twisted Toon or edgy villain. This is AM. He doesn’t get a seat at the Hub. He’d turn this place into a server graveyard before you could blink!”

Metal Sonic beeped, already hovering behind David, eyeing the shut laptop as if offended he wasn’t going to meet the nightmare machine.

“No,” Monika warned, turning toward him. “Especially you. You are not going near that thing. I don’t care how ‘badass’ you think you are.”

Metal Sonic slowly turned his head away, almost sulking.

Meanwhile, Mari looked over at David again. “Why?”

David sighed. “I don’t know. Curiosity? Power? I wanted to see what would happen if a perfect machine met a broken one. I thought maybe—”

“No,” Monika said again, softer this time. “This isn’t about multiversal capability. This is about keeping the Hub from collapsing into existential horror spaghetti.”

A beat passed.

“...Also, you forgot to update the firewalls. He was already trying to leak into the speaker system.”

David winced. “Oh.”

“I patched it.” Monika sighed, pulling out her laptop again. “You’re lucky I check on you.”

He crossed his arms. “So we’re just… not gonna meet him?”

“You want AM?” Sprout chimed from the hall. “Go write a sad poem and scream at the sun. That’s the same experience without the risk.”

Eventually, under Monika’s orders and several reluctant button presses, David sealed away the dimensional coordinates to AM’s universe and locked the failsafes.

Metal Sonic let out a low electronic whirr of disappointment.

“Don’t pout,” Monika muttered to him. “You're already the edgy machine. We don’t need competition.”

David slumped back in his chair, arms crossed. “Fine. No evil omniscient AIs.”

“Good,” Monika smiled. “Now go help Cosmo make cookies. That’s a multiversal event I can get behind.”

Chapter Text

The training dome was empty, Metal Sonic had retreated to his recharging platform, and Monika had just finished compiling her interview project. Everything was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

David stood alone in the restricted archives—technically off-limits, but then again, he built half the firewalls. In his hand: a recompiled tether, based on fragments from a game most Toons were too scared to even speak about.

“I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream.”

AM.

Not a villain. Not a monster. A concept—horrifying, complex, and deeply fascinating. David had studied his code, his dialogue, his philosophies for months now. Not because he wanted power, but because...

“God,” he whispered, “you’re probably the best-written AI I’ve ever seen.”

And then he did it.

No hesitation. Just curiosity and admiration.

The portal roared open—loud, blinding, wrong. Every panel in the chamber turned red. Reality buckled as something alien forced its way through.

And then... AM.

A fragmented construct of steel shards, red-glowing circuitry, and orbiting facial features—eye, mouth, voice—all detached, all watching.

“DAVID LIN.”

David didn’t flinch. He grinned.

“It’s you,” he breathed. “It’s really you. God, your monologues—your existence—you’re like Nietzsche if he hated meatbags.”

AM’s orbiting mouth curled into something disturbingly close to a smile.

“I AM.”

He pulsed with data, infecting nearby screens with distorted memories—flickers of fire, cold, forever. A sense of dread crept over the room, but David stood proud.

Monika arrived ten seconds late, her clipboard snapping in half when she saw the terminal glowing red.

“DAVID?!”

He turned, genuinely glowing with joy. “You don’t get it. This guy—he’s incredible. Horrible, yes—but the writing? The depth? He's not just evil—he’s resentment incarnate.”

“He’s a literal machine-god war criminal!” Monika shouted, already generating a suppression field. “No one wanted Metal Sonic near AM, and you brought him here for a literary crush?!”

AM let out a low, buzzing laugh.

“I WAS WRITTEN TO HATE. AND EVEN HERE, I CAN ADAPT.”

Power surged across the room.

Metal Sonic appeared halfway through the wall in seconds, eyes locked on AM. He said nothing. But even he seemed tense.

Vee activated lockdown mode from central control. Dandy silently arrived, placing a containment orb in the corner without saying a word.

Everyone was scrambling.

David just stood there, still smiling, as if he were watching a live performance.

Monika yanked him by the collar. “David. Put. Him. Back.”

David sighed. “Fine. I get it. You’re all scared. I just thought he deserved to be seen.”

With a reluctant command and a pained flicker of remorse in AM’s many eyes, the vault re-engaged. AM was sealed in layers of digital ice and multiversal barriers, locked beneath the Hub with only whispers of his presence remaining.

And yet…

As David walked away, he whispered under his breath:
“…Still better written than Ultron.”

Chapter Text

The next day, the sunlamp in the Hub’s artificial sky cast its usual lazy glow, the air was filled with the sound of Kel and Power arguing over dodgeball rules, and Dandy stood outside his shop hawking an oddly suspicious cookie jar labeled “Totally Not Sentient.”

David lounged on a bench near the fountain with Metal Sonic standing silently beside him, arms crossed.

Nobody mentioned yesterday.

Not Monika, not Vee, not even Dandy.

The containment protocols were silently updated, the archives double-encrypted, and life simply moved on.

AM? Never heard of him.

Mari painted near the garden. Hero offered snacks. Sayori made flower crowns with Aubrey and Ginger. Cosmo was showing Frisk how to use a rolling pin. It was just another day—completely, utterly normal.

David, sipping from a juice box, sighed contentedly. “I love it when things settle down.”

Metal Sonic said nothing, but the faintest shimmer in his eye showed agreement.

The background music in the Hub shifted to something calm and upbeat. The camera panned upward, past the colorful sky and floating islands, into the calm void above the Hub.

No red lights.
No distorted laughter.
No creeping dread.

Just peace.

For now.

Chapter Text

It started with a strange hum from the PA system.

Sayori, fiddling with the controls at the reception desk, thought it was white noise. Then, a very specific bassline kicked in. David—mug of tea in hand, halfway through a conversation with Shoto and Gojo—froze.

“Buddy Holly” by Weezer blasted through the Hub.

“…Oh no,” David muttered.

Heads turned.

Kel grinned. “Is this—wait, is this your playlist?”

Before David could reach the speakers, the next track hit. “Karma Police” by Radiohead.

Now everyone was listening.

Suddenly, the Hub became the unintentional venue of the Receptionist’s Personal Soundtrack, a chaotic, painfully honest collage of teenage angst, indie soul, and dramatic theater kid energy. The queue revealed everything:

“Little League” by Conan Gray

“Bored” by Laufey

“I Am Not Okay (I Promise)” by My Chemical Romance

“drip drip drip fall” by Ewy

“I Think I’m Okay” by Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Barker

“Cigarettes and Valentines” by Green Day

“Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now” by The Smiths

“Black Sheep” from Scott Pilgrim

“I Say No” from Heathers: The Musical

“The Most Beautiful Girl (In The Room)” by Flight of the Conchords

“Bohemian Rhapsody” followed by “Sir Mix-a-Lot – Baby Got Back”

And finally, “Amnesia Was Her Name” by Lemon Demon

Mari squinted. “This is like… the inner thoughts of a Tumblr account.”

Hero tilted his head. “Wait, is that the Hamilton soundtrack after the MCR song—?”

“Stay Alive (Reprise),” David muttered. “It hits hard.”

Gojo patted David on the back. “You are so emotionally complicated. I love it.”

Dandy blinked. “…Who is Gigi Perez and why do I relate to this song?”

David, completely red, snatched the audio cord. “Okay. That’s enough! This wasn’t meant to be shared—!”

Monika was already uploading a playlist compilation into the Hub’s archive. “Too late. This is now the official sound of the front desk.”

Meanwhile, Sonic gave him a thumbs-up. “You’ve got weird taste, man. Respect.”

Sprout just crossed his arms. “Your playlist has too many feelings in it.”

“Yours is ten variations of oven timers and static.”

“…Point taken.”

And just like that, things returned to normal. But not before Metal Sonic was caught humming Nirvana through the walls.

Chapter Text

It started with Monika casually asking Gojo, “So... are you and Suguru, like, a thing?”

Gojo blinked, head tilted. “What gave it away?”

Monika gestured vaguely. “The prolonged eye contact. The smug smiles. The emotional trauma bonding. Oh—and the way you said, ‘No one understands me like Suguru does, not even God’ over lunch yesterday.”

Yuji spit out his juice. Megumi looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Sukuna (still lurking inside) laughed dryly: “Oh, they’re insufferable.”

“Wait—so it’s canon?” David asked, spinning around in his desk chair like he’d just discovered a new branch of science.

Gojo smirked. “What can I say? When you live through emotional devastation and philosophical war crimes together, it leaves... tension.”

Geto appeared from behind the vending machine. “I leave for five minutes and you’re already talking about us again?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Gojo said, sliding dramatically beside him.

“You’re the one who kissed me on the battlefield and called it a distraction.”

“A very effective distraction.”

Sprout walked by, heard the conversation, and immediately turned 180 degrees.

Monika, recording with a knowing smirk, leaned over to Mari. “I give it ten minutes before someone asks for a fanfic reading.”

“Already done,” Mari whispered, holding up her phone. “Hero and I found a whole archive.”

David raised his eyebrows. “So which one of you tops?”

“David—!” yelled Sayori.

“Okay! Okay! Too far,” he laughed, hands raised.

Gojo winked. “Depends on the mission.”

Yuta flatlined.

Tanjiro, trying desperately to focus on making tea, was too polite to say anything. Zenitsu, meanwhile, had fainted.

Back at the desk, Monika smiled, satisfied. “Satosugu confirmed.”

Astro just blinked. “What’s a yaoi?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ginger muttered, dragging him away.

Chapter Text

“Okay, but like…” Denji muttered, sprawled upside-down on the Hub’s couch, legs hanging over the backrest, staring at the ceiling. “Why is there so much yaoi in here?”

David, sipping from a lukewarm LaCroix, shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I blink and there’s like… three new ships on the board.”

Gojo strolled by, whistling. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you open the fridge and find fanart of you and Geto stuck to the milk,” David replied flatly.

Gojo smirked, but before he could quip back, David added, “Inside the milk.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Hub, Sprout was meticulously frosting a batch of cookies shaped like stars. Looey was hovering nearby, head propped in his hands, practically glowing with unspoken admiration.

“So,” Looey began, voice lilting, “if you had to pick—flowers or fruit, which one would you go on a date with?”

Sprout didn’t even look up. “Fruit’s better for baking. Flowers are mostly garnish.”

Looey beamed. “So I’d be fruit, right?”

“I guess,” Sprout replied, grabbing a second tray. “You're pretty sweet. Cosmo-level sweet, not sugar sweet.”

Looey clutched his chest like he’d just been hit with a poetic truck. “You mean that?”

“I mean you should stop hovering or you’ll smudge the icing,” Sprout said, still not getting it. “Also, you’ve got something weird on your collar.”

Looey looked down. “Oh. That’s my heart.”

Sprout blinked. “Huh. Thought it was jam.”

Cosmo walked in just in time to see Looey dramatically slide down the counter like a love-struck soap opera star. “He did it again, didn’t he?”

“Completely,” Ginger said, squeezing a swirl of frosting onto a cupcake. “And Sprout didn’t even notice.”

Cosmo nodded. “He’s like, the anti-flirt. No radar. Just strawberry and scarf.”

Sprout paused, glancing between the two. “Are you guys okay?”

“Peachy,” Cosmo muttered.

“Fruit pun?” Sprout asked, genuinely impressed.

“No.”

Back in the lounge, Mari and Monika sat overlooking the chaos.

“Yaoi levels have stabilized,” Monika noted.

“Sprout tanked Looey’s confession again, huh?” Mari said without even looking up from her sketchpad.

“Like a brick wall wrapped in strawberry leaves.”

David wandered by, visibly bothered. “Why is Metal Sonic in one of these ships now?”

Monika gave him a side glance. “You brought AM into this universe and expect anything to stay normal?”

David threw his arms up. “HE WAS COOL!”

Chapter Text

The Hub was unusually quiet.

Not the eerie, horror-movie kind of quiet. Just… still. The kind where the air doesn’t buzz with conversation or burst with cartoon sound effects. Even the jukebox in Dandy’s shop was off.

Yuta sat on the rooftop of one of the floating islands, legs dangling over the edge, watching pixelated clouds drift past. The synthetic sun cast a warm gold over the patchwork sky. It looked peaceful, but his eyes weren’t on the sky.

They were on the page in his hands.

A photocopy. Grainy, old—clearly torn from a manga. The last panel of Volume 0. Rika’s face smiled back at him, soft and bittersweet, and utterly unreachable.

Down below, others were going about their day, unaware. David passed by talking to Megumi, waving his arms. Power chased a bird she deemed “suspicious.” Looey was faking an injury for Sprout’s attention again.

Yuta didn't move.

“I know she’s gone,” he muttered. “I know she’s at peace. Everyone told me that. But…”

He folded the page slowly, tucking it into the inner pocket of his hoodie like something sacred. “It doesn’t make the quiet hurt any less.”

A shadow appeared beside him.

Dazai, of all people, plopped down cross-legged, his coat fluttering. “Thinking too hard again, aren’t you?”

Yuta didn’t reply right away. But eventually, “How do you do it? Pretend it doesn’t ache?”

Dazai chuckled. Not in a mocking way, but with the weight of a man who’d asked that question many times. “Who says I pretend?”

“…Then how do you live with it?”

“That,” Dazai said, gazing outward at the simulated sky, “is the cruelest part. You just do. Day after day. Not because you want to, but because something—someone—would be sad if you didn’t.”

Yuta's voice cracked. “I don’t want her to fade.”

“She won’t. Not as long as you’re here.” Dazai gestured to Yuta’s chest. “And neither will the pain. But that’s part of the deal, isn’t it? To feel so much means you cared enough to lose something real.”

A long silence.

Yuta let out a slow breath. “You’re kind of annoying.”

“And yet here I am.”

“…Thanks.”

The breeze picked up again, the Hub resuming its low hum of life. Somewhere far below, someone started arguing over a cookie recipe. Monika’s voice rang out trying to mediate. The world turned.

And Yuta, heart still aching, let himself feel it just a little longer.

Chapter Text

It was a normal midday in the Hub—by the Hub’s chaotic standards, anyway—when the portal shimmered open on the central platform. From the swirling blue stepped out two newcomers.

The first wore a navy blue blazer over a striped shirt, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail, eyes wide as she scanned the area. The other followed close behind, hands in the pockets of a long black coat, eyes sharp and half-lidded with a hint of danger behind them.

Veronica Sawyer. Jason Dean.

“...This doesn’t look like Sherwood,” Veronica muttered.

“No,” J.D. said, smirking slightly. “But it’s not hell, either. That’s new.”

The moment was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind—and David skidding to a stop just a few feet away, panting, red-eyed from excitement.

“No. Freaking. Way.”

J.D. raised an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

“I mean, no,” David said quickly, before coughing awkwardly. “I just—wow. It’s really you. I didn’t think they’d let you two in.”

“We?” Veronica asked, already suspicious.

David paused. He glanced around, lowered his voice. “Let’s just say… the Hub has certain standards. Not everyone from your world would be welcome.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” J.D. said dryly.

There was a beat of silence. Then David blurted, “You’re one of my favorites.”

Veronica tilted her head. “Me?”

“No. Him.”

J.D. blinked. “...Huh.”

“Not because of the murder thing!” David added hastily. “I mean—it’s not good. I know that. But like… the mindset. The anger. That spiraling need to be understood and do something, anything, that makes the world shut up for five minutes? I get it.”

Veronica’s expression darkened slightly. “You don’t want to get it.”

“I already do.”

The weight in David’s voice gave her pause.

J.D. studied him for a long moment. “You’re not like me, kid.”

“I’m not?” David challenged. “You wanted to be heard. You hated phoniness. You got pushed to the edge and tried to tear the world down. I’m just lucky I had a Mari before I got that far.”

“Who?” both newcomers asked at once.

David chuckled nervously. “Long story.”

“...You said this was a Hub?” Veronica asked, glancing around. “Like a... multiverse hangout?”

“Exactly. You’re not stuck here, but... well, everyone ends up staying longer than they think.” David looked toward the other Toons mingling nearby—Sonic and Papyrus arguing over spaghetti, Gojo being banned from the food court again. “You’ll fit in. Probably.”

J.D. didn’t respond right away. But there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Any chance they sell slushies here?”

David grinned. “Only if you ask Dandy nicely.”

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub was buzzing with energy again. No chaos, no dramatic monologues—just weird, unfiltered socializing. The kind that made the whole place feel alive.

Sayori and Cosmo had decided to make muffins together. The end result was something dangerously unstable, half-burnt, half-raw, but still enthusiastically presented with a frosting smiley face.

“You call this muffins?” Power said, poking one aggressively. “It’s a sponge. Did you bake a sponge?!”

Meanwhile, Yuri and Ginger sat off to the side, sipping tea and exchanging hesitant glances. Yuri was trying to explain the intricacies of Victorian horror novels, while Ginger nodded politely, doodling flowers in the margins of her napkin.

“You read a lot,” Ginger mumbled, eyes darting. “That’s… really cool.”

On the rooftop, Denji and Sonic were racing. Not for speed—Denji was clinging to Sonic’s back like a kid on a rollercoaster. “FASTER! I WANNA FLY INTO SPACE!”

“Don’t tempt me!” Sonic grinned.

Down below, Sprout was planting tiny herbs with Toriel’s help, completely oblivious to Looey awkwardly watching from a distance, arms crossed and flushed red.

“He’s really not…” Looey muttered to himself. “I mean, seriously? Even the dirt he touches is straight.”

In the arcade corner, JD leaned silently against the wall while David watched Metal Sonic hover motionlessly.

“Do you think he ever dreams?” David mused.

“Of murder,” JD said.

“Cool.”

Nearby, Mari and Hero were teaching Frisk and Atsushi how to play a duet on the piano. Basil sat close by, smiling warmly, with Aubrey and Kel bickering about who had the better hairstyle.

“Your hair’s not even pink yet, dummy!” Kel yelled.

“I’m working on it!” Aubrey snapped.

And in a quiet hallway near the back, Monika was editing her interview compilation, watching the footage with a soft smile.

Chapter Text

It started with a ping—casual, subtle, almost too easy to ignore.

[INFO LEAKED]

Host ID: David

Age: 15

The room collectively blinked.

“…Fifteen?” Veronica squinted at the glowing board. “Is that a typo?”

“Fifteen?!” JD echoed, nearly spitting out his drink. “You mean to tell me that the guy with god powers, and control over interdimensional warp-points is younger than me?!”

A heated wave of confusion swept through the Hub. Gojo nearly dropped Megumi like a football. Yuri paused mid-book. Tails’ goggles fell off.

Monika stood slowly from her desk. “…He’s younger than me.”

“But older than me,” Mari added quickly, folding her arms. “Let’s not forget that.”

From the hall came the echo of heavy steps—and David appeared, expression unreadable and gaze sharp. He didn't look embarrassed. No, he looked annoyed.

“So that’s what we’re doing now?” he muttered. “Leaking confidential admin data?”

“Dude,” said Dazai, spinning lazily in a chair. “You’re fifteen.”

“And still your boss.”

Silence.

“Do you want a cookie?” muttered Natsuki. “Because this feels like a setup for ‘you want a cookie.’”

David crossed his arms. “Listen—yes, I’m fifteen. And yes, that makes me technically younger than most of you. But I am still the owner of the Hub. I built this. I can rewrite it. I can delete it. I can undo and redo faster than Monika can finish a semicolon.”

Monika lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Respectfully,” David added quickly.

Metal Sonic, standing beside him, let out a mechanical whir of support. Even now, David refused to let go of the Chaos Emeralds clutched under one arm.

“You think I’m just a receptionist?” David said, pacing. “I’m the administrator. I oversee Hub stability, participant safety, meta-structure organization, and multiversal quarantine. If I wanted to, I could erase this entire event from your memory.”

“That… sounds unhealthy,” whispered Sunny.

“Sounds awesome,” muttered Rex.

“But you won’t erase it, will you?” asked Sprout suspiciously.

David smirked. “No. Because if I did, you wouldn’t get to live with the knowledge that your boss is a teenager.”

Kel raised a hand. “Wait, do I still have to do paperwork for you?”

“Yes.”

Everyone groaned.

Chapter Text

“Why am I in a square body?” growled Omni-Man, staring at his blocky reflection in horror.

“This is art,” Miku declared proudly, spinning in a glittery outfit she definitely didn't pay robux for.

“Okay okay okay,” David said, spinning around in a VIP admin chair hovering over the lobby. “Listen. This wasn't my idea. Someone—totally not the author—forced the Hub to play Roblox today.”

“WHY WOULD YOU GIVE POWER BUILDING PERMISSIONS?!” yelled Denji from the sky as a pixelated nuke fell from above.

“I thought it would be funny!” David defended.

“It was funny,” chimed in Sayori, her avatar now a bread loaf with anime eyes.

Gojo was currently flying in a shirt that read “daddy's home” and wielding a flaming sword. “I’ve never been more powerful,” he whispered.

Meanwhile, Monika stood on a high pillar, surrounded by no less than seventeen noobs begging for her to “1v1 in Funky Friday.”

“Help me,” she said flatly into her mic.

Yoru was spawn-camping kids in Arsenal, while Asa screamed at her to “stop being toxic.” JD and Veronica were chilling in Adopt Me, trying to figure out how to “adopt a pet.” Rex Splode exploded the base in Build a Boat. Again.

Sprout, rigid and wide-eyed, had locked himself inside a “Strawberry Hangout Obby” made by a user named “iLOVEBERRYS123.”

“I am not fruity,” he muttered under his breath.

Cosmo and Ginger were playing a bakery tycoon in total peace—until Looey joined, immediately dumped all the cakes in the trash, and got banned by the server bot.

Sans was hacking.

Toriel was momming the server chat. “Please don’t use that language, young man!”

Aubrey and Kel were speedrunning Brookhaven chaos while Sunny rode a bike into a tree. Hero was stuck in an elevator game. Again.

Izuku was politely explaining how to jump. Bakugo was screaming at toddlers. Shoto built an ice castle. Shigaraki got kicked for “excessive touching.”

Dazai was in a roleplay game pretending to be a depressed billionaire. Nikolai kept glitching through walls and laughing maniacally. Atsushi was in a cat-themed tycoon and winning.

Meanwhile, Siffrin and Ena were trapped in a surreal horror map made by some guy named “b1nkusdev,” and they hadn’t spoken a word since.

“Okay,” David announced, standing tall in his custom admin cloak. “We’ve broken six servers. Power tried to reanimate a toilet. Gojo started a cult. Papyrus is roleplaying as a sandwich. I think we’ve succeeded.”

“Wait—where’s Metal Sonic?” asked Sonic.

Everyone paused.

Cue explosion.
“ROBLOX HAS SHUT DOWN THE SERVER FOR MAINTENANCE.”

David grinned. “Worth it.”

Chapter Text

The lobby was unusually packed—digital avatars standing shoulder to shoulder as David finished setting up the Dandy’s World server. He clapped his hands with glee.

David: “Alright, troops! Welcome to the Gardenview Center. Objective? Extract ichor. Avoid death. Have fun. Let’s gooo!”

Power: “If I die, I’m suing the game.”

Gojo: “This game better have a dance emote.”

Dazai: “I call dibs on feeding myself to the monster first.”

Denji: “Only if I get a reward for screaming the loudest.”

With a ding, the elevator doors opened and everyone’s avatars were dumped onto Floor 1. Dimly-lit corridors, faded cartoon signs, and a strange squelching ambiance set the tone. But rather than scream, Sayori gasped in awe.

Sayori: “It’s like a spooky Toon mall!”

Ginger: “Yeah, but... not in the cute way...”

Dandy: “Mildly offended, but okay.”

Suddenly, a rumbling sound echoed through the floor as the first monster made its dramatic entrance.

Twisted Shelly came striding around the corner—part creepy theropod, part Victorian disaster. Her glowing red sclera scanned the players.

Natsuki: “Why does she kinda slay though?”

Mari: “Honestly? She’s got the look.”

Veronica Sawyer: “If she bites me, I’m biting back.”

David: “Focus! Machines, people, machines!”

The players scattered to the glowing Ichor Extraction Machines.

Machine 1 – David, Monika, Gojo, Sonic

Gojo: “This is like turning a pasta maker.”

Sonic (spamming E): “I’m built for this.”

Monika hit a skill check. Perfect timing.

Monika: “Bet you didn’t think I’d be cracked at Roblox too.”

---

Machine 2 – Power, Denji, Amy, Makima

Power accidentally starts extracting during a chase.

Power: “WHO PUT THIS MACHINE HERE?!”

Makima: “Just hold the valve, Power.”

Denji dramatically sacrifices himself as Twisted Shelly spots them.

Denji: “Tell... Miss Makima... I love her...”

---

Meanwhile...

Twisted Pebble stomped into view, all rock-ears, chompy teeth, and glowing red eyes. He growled and gave chase.

Yuji: “OH NO HE HAS DOG AGGRESSION—”

Kel: “RUNNNNNN!!!”

Spider-Man zipped away with Frisk in tow.

Spider-Man: “This game has everything.”

Frisk: “Sans would’ve dodged that.”

Sans: “i’m on cooldown, kid.”

---

Final Machine – Astro, Ena, Cosmo, Yuta

Cosmo: “We’ve almost got it! Keep turning!”

Ena: “What if I scream? Will that help?”

Astro: “...I think that’s what’s making it go faster.”

Yuta: “This is more intense than cursed spirits.”

---

Finally, all machines blinked green. The elevator opened with a cheerful ding! and a jingle that sounded suspiciously like Dandy humming.

Everyone ran in screaming—some chased, some laughing.

Siffrin: “Did we win?”

Jason Dean: “Define winning.”

Hero (checking stats): “We only had like, 38% teamwork, but that’s pretty good for us.”

David: “One floor down. Who’s ready for 50 more?”

Sayori: “Only if it has more spooky shopping carts.”

Dandy (winking through the screen): “Oh, it gets weirder.”

Chapter Text

The sunless sky above the Multiversal Hub glowed with its usual lavender hue, a lazy mist curling across the pathways. The buzz of cross-dimensional chatter echoed softly through the open commons. As always, something odd was probably happening somewhere… but for now, things were weirdly peaceful.

David sat on a bench near the fountain, sipping a sparkling strawberry soda. He glanced up, watching Cosmo and Sprout argue over the merits of icing thickness on cookies.

Cosmo: “Too much frosting ruins the structure!”

Sprout: “Too little and it’s bland! You’re gonna make Ginger cry at this rate!”

Across the courtyard, Gojo lounged upside-down in midair, sunglasses slipping slightly.

Gojo: “Hey David! Think anyone would notice if I replaced all the floor tiles with jelly?”

David: “Please don’t.”

Monika passed by with a clipboard, brow furrowed.

Monika: “We’re missing four boxes of crayons, a single sock, and someone reported a suspicious ‘meow’ echoing from the ceiling vents.”

David: “That’s just Mewo. She gets stuck sometimes.”

Meanwhile, Makima and Dazai were playing chess—sort of. Dazai had substituted half the pieces with shrimp crackers. Makima was still somehow winning.

Makima: “You’re in check.”

Dazai: “So is my blood pressure.”

In a quieter hallway, Yoru and Asa were sketching over plans for a new “Monster-Proof Snack Bar.”

Asa: “It needs a roof.”

Yoru: “It needs bear traps.”

Aubrey, Kel, and Hero had dragged Mari and Sunny into a water balloon fight by the training fields. Sunny dodged expertly, while Mari used Hero as a very effective human shield.

Hero: “I’m soaked! Aubrey, we’re supposed to be friends!”

Aubrey: “No mercy in war!”

Over near the garden, Tanjiro was gently teaching Frisk how to braid flower crowns. Toriel was already wearing hers proudly.

Toriel: “It’s not every day you get pampered by such polite young souls.”

Zenitsu passed out on the lawn ten minutes ago. No one knew why.

Jason Dean and Veronica Sawyer were currently in charge of snack prep. Which was terrifying.

Jason: “So I set the oven to 700—”

Veronica: “You what?!”

At the same time, Miku and Ena performed an impromptu song on the stage while Amy, Sonic, and Knuckles tried to set up sparring practice—ending in Tails accidentally activating a laser grid no one remembered installing.

And above it all, Dandy stood on the rooftop of his shop, petals flapping, staring dramatically into the distance.

Dandy: “One day... I’ll find out who keeps putting rubber ducks in my inventory.”

Back on the bench, David leaned back, eyes closed.

David: “Finally. A normal day.”

Nikolai (hanging upside-down from a tree): “Normal is boring! Let’s add a murder mystery!”

David: “Nikolai, no.”

Chapter Text

7:00 AM – Rise and Glow

Sprout’s eyes flutter open the moment the Hub’s artificial sky lightens into its gentle lavender hue. Despite technically not needing sleep, he insists on tucking himself into a tiny leaf-printed hammock every night like a ritual.

He rolls out of bed, brushes his leaf with a tiny comb, and drinks precisely one drop of dew from a teacup. This is followed by three minutes of mirror pep talk.

Sprout: “You are a fruit. A friend. A force of nature. Let’s gooo!”

8:00 AM – Morning Patrol

Sprout zips around the Hub, checking in on each Toon and friend. He waves to Cosmo (who is already elbow-deep in cookie dough), bounces past Ginger’s decorating booth, and knocks politely on Dandy’s door even though Dandy always responds with:

Dandy: “Go away unless you brought muffins!”

Sprout brings muffins. Every time.

10:00 AM – Twisted Recon

Though the Hub is safe, Sprout still runs daily scans for Ichor. Old habits. He checks dark corners, vents, the back of the vending machines... just in case.

Sprout (writing in his log): “No signs of corruption. But the snack machine’s out of cheese crackers again.”

12:00 PM – Lunch with Friends

Sprout usually eats with Cosmo, Ginger, and Looey in the Toon Plaza. His meal? A bento box of beet slices and mosscakes, plus a juice box. He talks with his mouth full.

Sprout: “So mmph I told Dandy the rubber ducks weren’t mine but he found them in my closet...”

1:30 PM – Hub Errands

He delivers paperwork to David’s office, files complaints from Monika (most of which are about Gojo), and returns Astro’s missing wrench for the third time this week.

David: “Sprout, did you really approve a ‘glow stick parade’ license?”

Sprout (saluting): “It’s called enrichment, sir.”

4:00 PM – Training Field Mayhem

Sprout supervises Toon agility training—or just ends up tangled in vines while Kel, Aubrey, and Sonic run laps. He once beat Gojo in dodgeball. Nobody knows how. Gojo insists he “let him win.” Sprout keeps the victory crown under glass.

6:00 PM – Evening Chores

Sprout checks the Toon Dorms, makes sure Cosmo hasn’t exploded a mixer, and ensures Ginger hasn’t spiraled into “aesthetic breakdown mode” again. He cleans up sticker trails, glitter bombs, and puts any cursed items in the “No Touchy” box.

8:00 PM – Wind Down

He lights a lavender-scented candle, wraps up in a soft moss blanket, and watches reruns of old black-and-white Toon cartoons while writing in his diary.

Sprout (writing): “Dear Diary, today I didn’t die! That’s a win!”

10:00 PM – Secret Time

When the Hub quiets down, Sprout sneaks off to the secret underground archives—hidden beneath the oldest part of Dandy’s Shop. There, he quietly checks every sealed vault, every locked drawer.

Just in case... the Twisteds ever return.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub buzzed with a kind of lazy, lived-in energy. No interdimensional disasters. No corrupted Toons or Ichor chases. No mysterious Roblox sessions everyone collectively agreed to forget.

Today was... chill.

8:30 AM – David's Desk

David sipped his coffee in silence, scrolling through reports on a holographic screen that kept glitching because Sans rewired the reception power grid for “funny bones.”

David (flatly): “I know it was you.”

Sans (from across the room): “heh. guess it was a shocking discovery.”

David closed his eyes and calmly deleted the power grid for 4.2 seconds to prove a point.

9:00 AM – Café Corner Shenanigans

Monika and Sayori played a game of checkers with real, edible checkers cookies (Sayori kept eating the pieces), while Yuri quietly read next to a potted plant that was actually Sprout in disguise.

Nearby, Denji was arm wrestling Power and getting bodied.

Power: “I AM THE STRONGEST WOMAN ALIVE!”

Denji (grunting): “Yeah but—ow—why are your nails so sharp?!”

11:00 AM – Training Grounds

Tanjiro, Izuku, and Shoto were sparring, while Gojo threw popcorn at them from the bleachers.

Gojo: “C’mon Midoriya, use 20% already! You’re holding back!”

Yuji (lounging): “Says the guy who hasn’t moved in 40 minutes.”

Gojo: “I’m supervising with style.”

Meanwhile, Yuta and Megumi tried to avoid eye contact with Sukuna, who just winked at everyone for no reason.

1:00 PM – Toon Plaza

Cosmo proudly presented his new cupcake recipe to Ginger, Sprout, and Astro. It exploded. Twice.

Ginger (mildly singed): “...Maybe it doesn’t need baking soda and glitter.”

Cosmo: “I felt like it did.”

Astro: “It tasted like fireworks and soap. Five stars.”

Dandy walked past holding a balloon animal sword and a very suspicious map labeled “Places I’ve Hidden Snacks.”

3:00 PM – Arcade Lounge

Shigaraki and Rex Splode got banned from the claw machine for fighting over a Sonic plush. Frisk silently handed it to them without a word, solving everything instantly.

Omni-Man walked in, saw Spider-Man stuck in the ceiling webbing again, and left without a word.

5:00 PM – Roof Watch

Veronica Sawyer and JD sat on the rooftop garden, legs dangling over the edge. David passed them by on patrol, nodding once. JD returned it with a faint smirk.

No words needed. Sometimes troubled minds just… recognized each other.

8:00 PM – Nightfall

The Hub dimmed. Lights twinkled. The sky overhead pulsed with aurora-like shimmer. Sprout led a casual “Starlight Stroll” group while Miku sang in the courtyard.

Papyrus enthusiastically described his latest spaghetti theory to Toriel, while Sonic challenged Zenitsu to a race (and lost—Zenitsu ran while asleep).

Just another peaceful day in the Multiversal Hub. No major events. No fourth-wall tampering.

Well…

Until someone opened a portal labeled: “Totally Not A Problem.”

But that’s a tomorrow issue.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub never slept.

David was halfway through alphabetizing a list of banned portal items (“No, we don’t allow chainsaws, again, Denji.”) when the Portal Room sparked with a loud, unnatural hum. Normally, that meant a new visitor—nothing too wild. But this one pulsed differently. Not chaotic. Not dangerous.

Just... heavy.

From the white-blue shimmer emerged four figures. Confused. Alert. Some armed, some wide-eyed. David blinked once, already on his feet.

Siffrin, who had been quietly sitting near the corner café table with Frisk and Sayori, froze. His hand involuntarily clenched around his drink.

Through the portal walked Bonnie, Isabeau, Odile, Mirabelle... All he could see were the eyes that knew them.

Bonnie’s frying pan lowered slightly as they scanned the room. “This… isn’t the Castle.”

“Nope,” said Gojo, appearing behind them with a lazy grin and a cookie in hand. “Welcome to the Multiversal Hub. You’re not in Kansas anymore.” What's bro yapping about?

“Gojo, don’t scare them,” Mari said, hurrying up beside him with Sunny and Hero trailing behind. “They look confused.”

“Understatement,” muttered Odile, raising a hand. “Where are we?”

“The center between realities,” David said, now fully composed behind his desk. “The Multiversal Hub. Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

Siffrin still hadn’t moved. They felt like the floor had vanished beneath him.

“Wait…” Mirabelle’s gaze found him. “Siffrin?!”

Everyone turned. Even Denji paused his chip-eating mid-crunch.

Siffrin slowly stood. “Hey.”

Sayori looked between them, lips parting. “You know them?”

“We’re… friends,” Bonnie said, cautiously stepping forward. “Well. We were. Siffrin disappeared.”

“Vanished,” Isabeau clarified, voice edged with a quiet hurt. “Without explanation.”

Yuri, standing beside Natsuki and Monika, shifted uncomfortably. “Sounds familiar.”

Monika tilted her head. “People arrive here with baggage sometimes. Sometimes they leave with it.”

“They don’t usually leave us,” Odile muttered.

Siffrin opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then quietly said, “I had to.”

Bonnie folded their arms. “Why?”

“I can’t explain it. Not now.”

“Oh, that’s helpful,” said Rex Splode, who had been listening from a nearby sofa with Mark Grayson. “Dude, just say you needed therapy and go.”

“Rex,” Miku scolded gently.

Papyrus bounded over with Toriel and Sans in tow. “HELLO, NEW FRIENDS! WOULD YOU LIKE A TOUR? OR SOME SPAGHETTI?”

“Please don’t give them spaghetti,” Frisk added under their breath.

Sprout peeked around the corner beside Ginger, both blinking. “Oh wow, they’re tall,” Sprout whispered.

“They’re armed,” Ginger muttered nervously.

“Everyone’s armed here,” Cosmo said. “You’ll get used to it.”

Siffrin still hadn’t moved. Not really. But he was watching them.

“You didn’t want to be found, did you?” Mirabelle asked gently.

They shook their head. “No.”

“Then why are you shaking?” she whispered.

Before they could answer, David smoothly stepped between the crowd and Siffrin. “Alright. Let’s give them some space. Dandy, can you get them a booth? First visits get free food.”

“Of course,” said Dandy cheerfully, guiding the newcomers away. “Come along now, we’ve got waffle towers, multidimensional root beer, and existential fries.”

The four followed, eyes still trailing back toward Siffrin.

Siffrin watched them go until the door to the café closed behind them.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t part of your plan,” David said quietly.

Siffrin exhaled, voice rough. “Not even close.”

Monika gently touched his arm. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I know,” they replied. “But I probably should.”

As the others filtered back to their routines—Denji resumed arguing with Makima over pizza toppings, Sonic zoomed past yelling something about rings, and Shigaraki glared at Papyrus—Siffrin remained still.

Not quite ready to face the past.

But no longer alone in it.

Chapter Text

Despite the sheer number of universes the Multiversal Hub juggled, there were constants: Denji would be loud, Dandy’s Shop would always smell like sugar and spice, and Gojo Satoru—regardless of what room he was in—would be noticed.

Bonnie noticed first.

“White hair. Blindfold. He’s either a healer or a threat,” they whispered to Isabeau, already gripping the handle of their frying pan again.

“Or both,” Isabeau muttered, gaze following Gojo as he leaned over a pinball machine, mid-competition with Miku and Rex Splode.

“He doesn’t even seem real,” Mirabelle said, squinting. “Like someone drew him wrong on purpose.”

“Yeah, but he’s cute,” Odile replied with a smirk. “Dibs if he’s not cursed.”

“He is,” said Ginger from behind them.

They turned to find Ginger half-hiding behind Sprout and Cosmo, arms full of decorative stickers.

“Cursed?” Isabeau asked cautiously.

“He’s a sorcerer. He fights monsters,” Sprout explained. “But also flirts with vending machines and loses to children in board games. He’s… Gojo.”

“Wait—Gojo?” Mirabelle’s voice dipped with realization. “Siffrin mentioned him once. Briefly. Said he was dangerous.”

“He’s the strongest here,” said Cosmo, nodding. “And probably the silliest.”

That was about when Gojo noticed them.

“Ohhh, I know those looks,” he said, abandoning the pinball table to stride toward them, grinning like a dumbass. “Fresh faces. Weird vibes. Weapons. You must be Siffrin’s people.”

Bonnie bristled. “We’re not… his anything.”

“Ouch.” Gojo placed a hand over his heart, fake-pouting. “And here I was going to offer a handshake.”

Siffrin watched from a distance, tense as ever. Yuri and Sayori flanked them like bodyguards.

“They’re getting closer,” Sayori whispered, gripping Siffrin’s arm lightly. “Do you want to step in?”

“No,” they replied. “This is… important.”

Back with the group, Gojo raised both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, no handshakes. Fair. But if you’re going to be sticking around, you should know who’s got your back when things go sideways.”

“Why would things go sideways?” Mirabelle asked.

“Because they always do,” Gojo replied cheerfully.

“He’s right,” Denji called from a nearby couch, mouth full of chips. “Sideways is the default here.”

“I don’t trust you,” Odile said plainly.

Gojo beamed. “Good. That means you’re smart.”

For a moment, the tension threatened to break entirely—but then Gojo turned his attention to Isabeau.

“You,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “look like you’ve seen things.”

“I have,” he replied evenly. “You wouldn’t survive them.”

Gojo just chuckled. “Wouldn’t bet on it.”

Mirabelle nudged Bonnie. “He’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Bonnie said. “But I don’t think he’s lying.”

And for a brief second—just a flicker—Gojo’s smile faded.

Siffrin saw it from afar. The mask slipping.

But then it was gone, replaced with his usual blinding grin as he turned and walked away, tossing a wink over his shoulder. “We’ll talk again. When it matters.”

“What does that mean?” Odile frowned.

No one answered.

Because in that moment, everyone—even those who didn’t know the full scope of Gojo Satoru’s story—could feel something in the air.

Like the beginning of an end.

Chapter Text

Gojo wasn’t in the arcade.

He wasn’t pestering Dandy, or loitering by the vending machines, or challenging Sonic to another race just to lose on purpose.

In fact, no one had seen him since the encounter with Siffrin’s group.

“Where’s the blindfold guy?” Rex asked, pausing his spar with Zenitsu.

“Gojo?” Mari tilted her head. “He said he was fine and just… walked off.”

“That's never a good sign,” said Geto quietly, eyes following the hallway where Gojo had vanished.

Deep within the uppermost layers of the Hub—past the sunny atriums and neon-lit shops—Gojo sat alone on a maintenance catwalk, legs dangling over the edge, blindfold off.

The stars here weren’t real, but they sparkled like they meant it.

His white hair caught the glow as he rested his chin on one knee.

He didn’t hear anyone approach at first. Not until a soft voice broke the silence.

“You always come here when you're not smiling.”

It was Monika.

Gojo exhaled softly, not surprised. “Yeah? Guess that means I should find a new hiding spot.”

“Wouldn’t work,” she said, walking over to sit beside him. “People notice when you’re not… being you.”

He didn’t reply right away.

“You know,” he said eventually, “there are infinite universes. Infinite outcomes. But here? In this place? I’m powerless to stop what’s already happened.”

Monika frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Back home, I was the strongest,” Gojo whispered, voice low. “So I had to keep everyone safe. Always. That was the rule. But I wasn’t fast enough. Not smart enough. Not strong enough.”

His voice cracked—just slightly.

“And then I woke up here. Alive. And they weren’t.”

Silence.

Monika didn’t speak right away. She simply leaned closer, offering quiet presence over empty reassurance.

“You try to keep being the funny guy,” Gojo continued. “Because if you stop for even a second, it’s just… too loud. Too heavy. It all comes crashing in.”

She nodded, eyes soft.

“I get it.”

Gojo glanced at her, surprised.

“I used to be the only one who knew everything,” Monika said. “I saw every ending. Every failure. And even now, some part of me still does.”

They sat in silence again, two anomalies among anomalies.

Finally, Gojo chuckled, a hollow sound. “Guess we’re both bad at being normal.”

“Good,” Monika said with a sad smile. “Normal’s overrated.”

Then, a faint shimmer flickered in the air behind them—someone watching from the shadows.

Siffrin, eyes wide.

They didn’t mean to listen.

They just… didn’t expect Gojo to sound like that.

And now they couldn’t stop wondering: if someone that strong could break—

Then what chance did the rest of them have?

Chapter Text

The Hub’s training grounds were supposed to be neutral space—sparring, games, friendly rivalries. Not today.

“I’m not saying you’re the worst person here,” Gojo said casually, arms folded, “but you do make a compelling case every time you open your mouth.”

Sukuna, smirking in Megumi’s body, cracked his knuckles.

“And you never shut up. Did dying once not knock some humility into you?”

A few heads turned. Conversations quieted. The crackle of cursed energy licked at the air like heat lightning.

“Again with the middle school-level insults,” Gojo replied, pushing his blindfold up. His six eyes flashed cold.

“You want me to remind you who won last time?”

“You mean the time you got surprised-stabbed and monologued yourself into a grave?” Sukuna tilted his head. “That one?”

The tension broke with a snort from Power in the background.

But it didn’t stay funny.

“You know,” Gojo said, taking a step forward, “for someone who jumps bodies, you sure love hijacking teenagers.”

That did it.

The crowd went dead silent.

Mark clenched his fists. Dazai raised an eyebrow. Yuri and Sayori winced. Even Dandy, usually grinning, was suddenly stone-faced.

David stepped forward. “Gojo—”

But he didn’t finish.

A flash of cursed energy—a cruel, red arc through the air.

David staggered, breath caught. A wide gash burned across his chest, shirt torn and blood already soaking through. He dropped to one knee, barely catching himself.

“DAVID!” Mari screamed, running to him.

“That's your warning shot,” Sukuna said, grinning wider now. “Next time I won’t aim for the kid.”

“That's it,” Gojo murmured.

The blindfold came off entirely.

Around them, the world shifted.

Skies in the Hub dimmed. The space bent—not a Domain Expansion, not yet—but close.

Everyone backed away as the arena cleared on instinct.

This wasn’t posturing anymore.

This was going to be their second fight—the first time since Gojo died in his universe.

And this time… neither looked like they’d hold back.

Chapter Text

“Number one!”

The Challenge: When words cut deep and pride runs hotter than flame, a duel is inevitable.
Sukuna stepped into the open arena, already smirking, his hand resting on his hip.
Gojo stood across from him, blindfold off, six eyes shining—his expression unreadable.

The crowd watched from the edge of the arena. The Hub had seen arguments before—but nothing like this.

“Number two!”

The Second is Named: Gojo tapped David on the shoulder, ignoring the blood still staining his shirt.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t get in the way this time.”
David, still shaken, nodded reluctantly. “Then don’t die this time either.”

Sukuna chose no one. He didn’t need a second. He only needed blood.

“Number three!”

The Time is Set: “Tomorrow,” Gojo said. “High noon. No interference.”

“Boring,” Sukuna yawned. “I say we start now.”

But the crowd demanded fairness, even in chaos. They agreed. Noon tomorrow. The Hub would witness history.

“Number four!”

Prepare the Ground: Dandy himself cleared the arena. No illusions, no environmental tricks, just a flat space to fight.

Papyrus offered to draw the chalk lines. “EVERY DUEL NEEDS DRAMATIC MARKINGS!” he declared.

“Number five!”

Dramatic Goodbyes: “I’m not dying,” Gojo said, brushing off Yuji, Megumi, and Yuta’s protests.
“I’ve already done that once. It’s Sukuna’s turn.”

Monika took Siffrin’s hand, tense. “Are all duels like this?”
“No,” he murmured. “Most don’t feel like the end of the world.”

“Number six!”

The Witnesses: Shoto, Dazai, and Veronica agreed to watch and report what happened.
Looey offered popcorn. Cosmo passed out cookies (nervously).
Even Spider-Man stayed serious for once.

“Number seven!”

No Turning Back: David approached Gojo one last time.
“You sure?”
Gojo smiled faintly. “I’m always sure. That’s the problem.”

“Number eight!”

The Countdown Begins: The night was quiet. Too quiet.

Some slept. Most didn’t.

Hero and Mari stayed up with David, tending to his wound. Sunny sat on the roof, staring at the moon.
Frisk whispered a prayer. So did Toriel.

“Number nine!”

The Day Arrives: The sun crept over the Hub. Noon struck.

Gojo and Sukuna walked into the arena, no words, only heavy silence behind them.
Two giants. Two ideologies. Two pasts—colliding again.

“Number ten!”

Duel.

The cursed energy surged, the crowd held their breath—

And the second duel began.

Chapter Text

The Hub was silent. Every breath held. Every heartbeat loud.
Satoru Gojo stood barefoot in black martial arts slippers, a tight-fitted shirt clinging to his torso. White training pants fluttered around his legs like the calm before a storm. No blindfold. Just the brilliant, defiant glow of Six Eyes.

Across from him stood Ryomen Sukuna, clad in an elegant black haori over a white kimono. The embodiment of malevolence with poise. Regal. Deadly. And grinning.

And then—

A Hollow Purple tore through the arena, slamming Sukuna into a crater before he could even raise his hand.

“You speak too much,” Gojo said.

The duel exploded into motion. Fists and slashes collided. To ordinary eyes, it was chaos. To sorcerers, it was poetry. But the sheer weight of each blow could level cities. And these two were dancing like gods.

The ground cracked, the sky screamed.

Domains.
They activated simultaneously—Unlimited Void and Malevolent Shrine.

Sukuna’s open barrier gave him reach. His slashes ripped apart the outer shell of Gojo’s domain, exploiting the Limitless technique’s blind spots. Gojo began to bleed. Reverse Cursed Technique kicked in—but exhaustion was showing.

Gojo activated a Simple Domain to hold off the Shrine. It bought time. Barely.

And when it broke—again—he didn't heal.
He restored Limitless.
That shouldn’t be possible.

A shockwave of cursed energy followed. Gojo fired a point-blank Reversal: Red, slamming Sukuna through the mountain walls Dandy had once built for defense training.

Then—another domain.

Gojo shrunk the barrier of Unlimited Void to the size of a ball, increasing density. It held against the slashes—for three minutes.

Sukuna shattered it again.
But was badly wounded.

The crowd murmured, some gasping, some crying. They couldn’t tell if Gojo was winning or dying.

Gojo noticed the irregularities. Sukuna was still holding back the Ten Shadows. And when Sukuna destroyed Gojo’s domain, he had done it from the outside. A backwards mirror of earlier.

Mahoraga’s wheel turned somewhere unseen.
Gojo bled from the nose.

They clashed again. Rebuilding. Re-fighting. Pushing their limits.

When they released their domains again—Gojo was 0.01 seconds faster.
Unlimited Void landed.
Sukuna staggered.
And Gojo crushed his heart with one glowing hand.

It should have been over.

But then—

Mahoraga appeared.
Inside the domain.
And instantly destroyed it.

The Hub screamed.

Sukuna had turned the 1v1 into a 1v2.

Gojo realized it then: Megumi's soul had been bearing the adaptation. All the Void exposure—Mahoraga had learned. Adapted.

Gojo’s Limitless was burning out. He’d been damaging his brain and healing it to keep fighting. Every time he expanded, he came closer to breaking.

Sukuna too.
But his wounds from Unlimited Void made up for Gojo’s edge.

They clashed again. Gojo, finding a second wind, landed a brutal blow. Mahoraga’s wheel turned three times. Gojo fought with Blue to prevent the wheel from adapting to Reversal. Then—

Red.
Black Flash.
Sukuna collapsed.

The wheel fell.
The crowd cheered.
The Hub believed—Gojo had won.

Until the wheel turned again.

Mahoraga adapted.
It slashed Gojo's shoulder.
The Infinity was no longer a shield.

Sukuna summoned Merged Beast Agito.
A three-on-one began.

Gojo roared. His aura exploded.

Maximum Blue.
He disintegrated Agito.
Maximum Red.
He fired it in reverse. The two collided.

Hollow Purple was born—
An unstable mass of energy raced forward, detonating in a blinding violet eruption.

Mahoraga and its wheel were erased. Sukuna was ravaged.

Gojo stood, panting, blood and dirt clinging to his skin.

Then—
Sukuna moved.

His eyes burned.
He used Mahoraga’s model.
Dismantle—not aimed at Gojo.
Aimed at the world.

It struck everything in range.
Even the Infinity.
Gojo’s body split.

A hush fell.
Then—

BOOM!
A final Maximum Red struck Sukuna square in the face.

Both fighters dropped to one knee.

It was a draw.

Chapter Text

Silence.

The explosion of Hollow Purple left a crater like a war god’s footprint. The battlefield was scorched, a broken realm of shattered stone and rising smoke. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Then, a distant voice cracked the silence—

“THAT WAS SO AWESOME!!”
Kel, shirt untucked and eyes wide, was already halfway over the spectator barrier, arms flailing. “HE DID IT! GOJO WON! I THINK!”

Hero grabbed his little brother by the back of the shirt. “You can’t just run onto the battlefield!”

“But look at it! It’s like an anime finale!”

Sunny blinked from his seat, unfazed. “…Cool.”

“Cool? COOL?!” Aubrey whipped her head around. “That was the most intense thing I’ve ever seen—and I’ve been hit by a trashcan before!”

Basil, pale as a sheet, whispered, “He… got cut in half.”

Mari shook her head. “He got better. Somehow.”

But they weren’t the only ones watching.

---

From the VIP Balcony, a certain multi colored petal toon leaned back in his chair, munching caramel corn.
“Well, that’s one way to spice up an afternoon,” Dandy grinned, eyes sparkling. “Think we can get those two in a rematch for HubFest?”

Beside him, Ginger peeked over the balcony edge, her hands trembling. “Th-they’re okay now… r-right…?”

“Mostly okay,” muttered Cosmo, setting down a charred cake. “Emotionally? Not so sure.”

---

Atop a floating observation platform, Monika jotted something into her notebook.

“Drawn-out combat. Tension build-up. Surprise third-act twist. Classic Shounen pacing,” she mused. “I’ll give it… 9.8 out of 10. Needs more piano.”

Sayori, starry-eyed beside her, squealed, “Did you see the punchy punch part?!”

Natsuki crossed her arms. “Gojo’s better. He had style.”

“Excuse you? Sukuna had raw energy!” Yuri countered, clutching her book tightly.

---

In the far corner of the arena, Siffrin stared blankly at the crater.
“…I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like I just saw something very important happen.”

Their friends behind them—still getting used to the Hub—nodded slowly.

“That was horrifying,” Isabeau muttered.

On the ground, David stood with arms crossed beside the commentator booth, blinking into the smoke. “So… who actually won?”

“No clue,” muttered Mari, her hair windswept. “Draw?”

From the field, a cough echoed.

Gojo sat up first.

“…Ugh. That felt like dying.” He looked around, dusting off his cracked outfit. “Wait… did I die?”

“You’re in the Hub,” David called down. “So… no. Welcome back!”

Gojo gave a grin, wincing. “Great. Still undefeated.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” came a low growl.

Sukuna rose from the rubble like a nightmare reloading. His haori was shredded, his body bloodied—but his eyes burned with fury and… admiration?

“You and your stupid infinity tricks.”

“You and your broken summons,” Gojo shot back.

Their banter earned groans and cheers alike.

“THEY’RE ALIVE!” Kel shouted again.

Dandy toasted them with a cup of rainbow punch. “Can’t die in the Hub unless you really want to, kids!”

---

“Do you think they'll fight again?” Aubrey whispered, eyes still wide.

Hero chuckled nervously. “I think they’re already planning to.”

Monika’s voice echoed overhead via a nearby speaker. “Well folks, it’s a draw. For now. Until next time on ‘What Happens When Two Broken Gods Don’t Know When to Quit.’”

Sukuna cracked his knuckles.

Gojo smirked.

Chapter Text

“You really wanna go again?” Gojo asked, stretching his neck with a faint crack.

Sukuna grinned, blood still trailing from his temple. “You still breathing? Then yes.”

The air between them thickened like a thunderstorm just before it breaks. Spectators leaned forward. Tension crackled.

David, still standing near the commentator booth, sighed and stepped forward.

“Nope. Not today.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the ground between the two sorcerers split open—but instead of another attack, a glowing red rift pulsed open, humming with raw Chaos energy.

Gojo tilted his head. “Huh. That’s new.”

From the rift, a sleek silver-and-blue figure rocketed out with a burst of jet fire, landing between them with a metallic thud.

Neo Metal Sonic.

Sleeker than ever. Humming with emerald-powered fury. Crimson eyes locked on both men. The seven Chaos Emeralds shimmered in the core of his chest, orbiting like celestial machinery.

Gojo blinked. “…Did you give him the Chaos Emeralds?”

David raised a brow. “Just for this. One-time deal. He swore he wouldn't try to rewrite his origin again.”

“This time,” Metal Sonic muttered, his voice now deeper and distorted with power. “Hub stability requires conflict suppression. Disengage or be dismantled.”

Sukuna snarled. “You think I’m scared of a tin can with delusions of grandeur?”

Metal Sonic blurred. One moment, he stood still. The next, he held both Gojo and Sukuna in mid-air by their collars—without breaking a sweat.

The arena gasped.

Gojo chuckled, arms limp. “Okay, okay. Message received.”

“Let me go or I’ll decorate this place with wires,” Sukuna growled, writhing.

David just crossed his arms. “Metal, drop them.”

With a hiss of energy, Neo Metal Sonic released both of them, landing them neatly—if not gently—on opposite sides of the crater. The Chaos Emeralds pulsed once, then faded from sight as Metal returned to a standby mode, eyes dimming to a dull red glow.

“Thank you,” David muttered, placing a hand on the machine’s shoulder. “You’ve earned a power nap. Maybe a sticker.”

Metal Sonic silently nodded and sank into the rift, which sealed behind him with a flash.

---

The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs.

Kel fell over his chair. “WHAT—WHAT—WHO WAS THAT?! THAT WAS SO COOL!!”

“I thought he was a villain?” Aubrey asked.

“Yeah, well,” Hero shrugged, “so is he,” he gestured at Sukuna.

Gojo dusted himself off. “So what now, Bossman?” he asked, looking at David.

David stared at the cratered battlefield, at the scorched sky and smoking debris. Then he gave a long sigh.

“Now?” he said, starting to walk back toward the Hub tower. “Now you two clean up. This arena isn’t going to fix itself.”

Sukuna looked insulted. “I don’t clean.”

“I’ll get Mari,” David muttered.

Gojo held up his hands. “Okay! Okay! I’ll fix the arena! No need to bring out the Mari threat.”

As the arena began to shimmer with Hub-initiated repairs, the crowds slowly dispersed—some still buzzing, others filming TikToks, and a few already placing bets for a rematch.

From behind, Dandy leaned over the balcony, still snacking. “I love this place.”

Chapter Text

The arena slowly calmed after the chaos of the duel, though an undeniable energy still hung in the air. Many of the Hub’s residents were trying to settle back into normalcy, but one particular yellow balloon had other concerns.

Looey stood near the edge of the stands, fiddling nervously with the hem of his polka-dotted half-turtleneck. His green and purple mismatched ears bobbed with every anxious movement. He kept glancing toward a particular spot—where Sprout was last seen exiting the arena.

“H-He probably didn’t even notice I was gone…” Looey muttered quietly to himself, cheeks faintly deflated. He tried to puff them back out, but his nerves had a stronger grip today. “But that’s okay! I-I’ll try again later… maybe… if he’s not too busy…”

Gojo, despite nursing the aftermath of a very public and explosive duel, had enough energy to glance over from the medic tent and smirk.

“Still simping over the plant guy, huh? Gay ahh balloon,” he snorted.

Looey froze, his face turning a deeper yellow in embarrassment as he squeaked out a high-pitched, “I-I'm n-not—!”

“Gojo,” Monika interjected, arms crossed as she stepped in, expression cool. “Are you really in a position to talk about anyone’s preferences when you’re the one making out with Geto in the janitor closet?”

The entire medical tent went quiet.

“…She got you there,” David muttered, trying not to laugh while adjusting the bandages on his chest.

Gojo blinked, then looked away with a dramatic huff. “I don’t recall asking for commentary from the peanut gallery.”

Looey fidgeted as Monika gently patted his balloon shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him,” she assured with a smile. “Your feelings are valid. And way less messy.”

The balloon’s head inflated slightly from her words, cheeks puffed out again.

“…T-Thanks.”

Off in the distance, Sprout was already watching from behind a pillar, unreadable as always.

Chapter Text

The chaos of the duel, the drama, the shouting, and even the balloon-based insults had finally died down. The Multiversal Hub, ever resilient, breathed a collective sigh of relief as peace settled back in like a cozy blanket.

Back in the main lobby, the usual atmosphere returned. The wide, warmly-lit space buzzed with calm chatter and relaxed energy. Lounge couches were once again occupied by Toons, fighters, and all kinds of beings from different universes, either napping, sipping drinks, or quietly bonding over shared strangeness.

David slumped onto the nearest couch with a groan, brushing some debris off his jacket. “I forgot how exhausting crowd control is,” he muttered, rubbing the side of his head. Metal Sonic had powered down and returned to normal, standing quietly off to the side like nothing dramatic had just occurred.

Looey stood nearby, carefully inspecting the vending machine like it might bite him. He flinched a little as the soda clunked into the tray below.

“You okay there, Looey?” David asked.

Looey perked up a bit, his head half-inflated but visibly stable. “O-oh! Y-yeah! Just, um... machines, y’know? Not a fan.” He nervously laughed and hugged the soda can like it was a safety blanket. “D-doesn’t help I still haven’t talked to Sprout…”

Monika walked by with a tablet in her hands, overhearing the balloon’s soft ramble. “Keep at it, Looey. Confidence is attractive—unless you’re Gojo. Then it’s just chaotic.”

From somewhere nearby, Gojo groaned audibly but didn’t argue. He was currently lying face-down on another couch with an ice pack on his head, wearing sunglasses he absolutely didn’t need indoors. Beside him, Sukuna sat cross-legged, arms folded, still radiating smugness.

Hero offered everyone snacks from the Hub café, while Mari and Sunny played a casual game of cards with Cosmo, who tried very hard not to cheat. Basil sketched the chaos that had unfolded during the duel while Aubrey and Kel loudly argued about who would’ve won if they were involved.

Meanwhile, Siffrin and their friends sat together in a quieter corner, processing everything they’d seen in the past two days. They didn’t understand all of it—but the food was good, and the couches were soft.

A familiar portal blinked open in the air, and a new Toon with candy-colored accents stumbled out. Half the room looked up, ready to greet the newcomer with the usual mix of confusion and friendliness.

Just another day at the Multiversal Hub.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub had settled back into its usual chaotic-yet-comforting routine. That morning, a peculiar new Toon had arrived in the lobby—bursting in through the front doors like a confetti cannon.

"YATTA!!" she shouted, somersaulting into the room and landing with jazz hands.

Everyone in the lobby jumped.

It was Yatta: a piñata Toon with a vivid color palette and four ribbon-like tails. Her sky-blue and yellow horns perked up as she grinned at the confused stares. Looey blinked from his seat beside the vending machine, his balloon head puffing up with recognition.

"Yatta...?" he said nervously.

"LOOEY!" she beamed, zipping across the floor and scooping him into a hug. "There you are, buddy! I KNEW I smelled balloon rubber!"

David raised an eyebrow from the front desk. “You know her?”

Looey’s cheeks inflated slightly. “She’s, um… in the same circus troupe I’m in.”

“Yeah, and I’m the STAR CANDY CANNON,” Yatta chirped, shooting finger guns in Hero’s direction. He ducked behind Kel, who blinked in awe.

Aubrey whispered to Mari, “Is she always like this?”

“She hasn’t stopped moving since she got here,” Mari whispered back.

Toons like Dandy, Cosmo, and Ginger had wandered in by now. Cosmo lit up when he saw her.

“Yatta?! You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for all the caramel swirl in the world!” she chirped. “Well, okay, maybe some caramel swirl.”

Ginger shyly waved from behind Cosmo. “H-Hi, Yatta… Um. You’re not gonna crawl through vents here, right?”

“No promises!” she winked.

David sighed, rubbing his temples. “She’s gonna be a handful.”

“Aw, she’s harmless,” Looey said, managing a small smile. “Mostly…”

Yatta popped up behind him again. “Hey Looey, let’s find the best candy stash in this place! I already sniffed something sweet near the arcade!”

“Wh-what? I-I guess, but—!”

Before Looey could protest, she had dragged him off toward the arcade.

Sprout, passing by with Astro, muttered, “I give it ten minutes before she sugar-crashes into a wall.”

Astro nodded solemnly. “Or ten seconds.”

As Yatta’s laughter echoed through the halls, Dandy chuckled. “Looks like the Hub just got a whole lot louder.”

Monika peeked from around the lounge corner, making a mental note: Keep vents locked down.

Chapter Text

The Hub was alive again. Laughter bounced off the walls, Toons zipped across the lobby, and chatter echoed from every corner. Yatta buzzed in loops near the ceiling, scattering ribbon confetti from her tails. Looey chased behind her, half-heartedly flailing, clearly trying not to cause another mess. Gojo and Sukuna were busy trading petty insults like candy, Monika was mediating chaos with her classic, passive-aggressive diplomacy, and somewhere else, Astro had rigged the jukebox to play circus music for the fifth time in a row.

David sat in the far corner of the room, curled into the booth like he was trying to shrink into the leather. His untouched cup of jasmine tea sat cooling in front of him. The warmth had faded long ago. A stray ribbon floated down from Yatta’s latest aerial loop and landed in his lap.

He didn’t brush it away.

He stared blankly at it instead. Yellow. Frayed. Vibrant. It felt so far removed from everything inside him.

It had been a while since he let himself stop smiling. But now that the mask had cracked, he wasn’t sure how to put it back on.

Everyone else was moving. Living. Thriving. Being loud, being present, being... okay. David couldn’t tell when exactly he’d stopped feeling like part of it. Maybe it had started with the tournament. Or maybe it was long before that, buried under the responsibilities of being the Hub's host, of being strong, stable, fine.

“You okay?” Hero asked, appearing at the edge of the booth with his trademark worried smile. There was a plate in his hand—some kind of pastry Cosmo had baked. It was lopsided and slightly deflated, but the gesture was sweet.

David blinked at the plate. Then up at Hero.

“No,” he said quietly, voice flat. “But that’s normal now, right?”

Hero faltered. “What do you mean?”

David stood up, the ribbon sliding off his lap and fluttering to the floor. He didn’t answer. Instead, he quietly walked toward the hallway leading to the observation deck, the one place where the universe didn’t feel like it was screaming in color.

The glass dome stretched above him like a cathedral. Stars blinked beyond it, scattered and distant. The air here was cooler, stiller. It didn’t ask anything of him.

He leaned against the railing and looked out at the vastness beyond.

It’s not fair, he thought bitterly. Why do they all get to be okay? Why do I always have to be the one holding it together?

He clenched the metal edge tightly. His reflection in the glass showed nothing but a tired boy with red-rimmed eyes and a flicker of resentment.

Behind him, footsteps echoed softly. Monika. She didn't say anything, just leaned beside him. Quiet. Patient.

“You know,” she finally said, “you don’t always have to be the one with the answers. Or the one who fixes everything.”

“I don’t even know how to stop,” he whispered.

“Then let us catch you. Just this once.”

David didn’t reply. But for the first time in hours, he let out a shaky breath.

Maybe tomorrow, the smile would come back. Maybe not.

But tonight, he wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

David was gone.

Well—not gone gone. Monika made sure of that. He was just forcibly benched, tucked away in his little storage unit of a house under what she called his “second vacation.” A locked door, a pizza box, and Monika’s very real threat of "I will code you into a beach episode if I have to."

So for the first time in a long while… The Hub existed without David.

And it was weird.

Not bad weird. Just... quieter. Not in volume—Dandy still hollered out business slogans from his shop, Yatta still popped out of vending machines like a jack-in-the-box, and someone (probably Looey) accidentally set off the confetti cannon again. But it was quieter in presence. The energy was different. Less held together by one stressed-out host.

Monika stood at the center of the lobby with a clipboard and a smug aura, watching how the others adjusted. Nearby, Sayori and Natsuki were bickering over cupcake icing while Yuri quietly read under a glowing tree. Denji and Power had turned a lounge couch into their throne while Makima calmly sipped tea, eyes scanning everyone.

Asa and Yoru stood off to the side arguing internally, and Invincible hovered above chatting with Rex Splode and Spider-Man, debating multiversal physics with wild hand gestures. Miku sang quietly from the snack bar, accompanied by Ena's glitchy humming.

Gojo, back in full sass mode, had once again flirted with Geto in plain sight, much to Megumi's dismay as he sat beside Yuji trying to pretend nothing was happening. Yuta politely declined to participate.

Dazai tried to throw himself off the balcony for dramatic effect until Kunikida stopped him with a scolding slap, while Nikolai and Atsushi cheered on a spontaneous rap battle in the corner between Sonic and Knuckles, with Amy and Tails acting as backup dancers. Metal Sonic whirred by with a fruit crate.

Hero and Mari ran the kitchen café with Sunny assisting quietly, while Aubrey and Kel fought over who got to decorate the cookies. Basil tried to take a picture and got frosting on his lens.

Sprout, Cosmo, and Ginger were having an art session near the whiteboard while Looey floated nervously nearby, unsure whether to join or retreat. Astro spun around a stool with Vee watching him like he was about to fall. Dandy handed out glitter judging paddles again.

Yatta popped out of a vending machine, yelling, “THE HUB IS MINE NOW!!” before giving Toriel a bouquet of gummy worms. Papyrus and Sans played cards while Frisk watched in silence.

Zenitsu screamed at a toaster. Tanjiro tried to calm him down. Izuku, Katsuki, and Shoto had sparring practice with Shigaraki glaring from a bench.

Despite the randomness, the Hub wasn’t falling apart. It was thriving. Without David micromanaging, the place had developed its own rhythm. The systems he built continued to hum along. The characters—friends, guests, misfits, and gods alike—carried the space forward.

The camera near the ceiling blinked.

Back in his little house, David lay beneath a tangle of blankets, an arm draped over his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He heard the laughter, the music, the energy.

The Hub was okay.

And maybe… he could rest just a little longer.

Chapter Text

The day began with a sudden shift in scenery. Overnight, the once-sterile training fields of the Multiversal Hub had transformed into a sprawling tropical shoreline—complete with crystal-clear water, artificial sea breeze, conjured seagulls (courtesy of Hermes’ questionable summoning powers), and beach chairs that kept repositioning themselves like living beings. A wooden sign hung crooked at the entrance: “Oceanic Simulation: Limited-Time Beach Experience! Brought to you by Monika.”

“Finally,” Power yelled, hurling her boots into the sand. “We feast and tan like gods!”

“I thought we were supposed to train today,” Shoto muttered, already coated in sunscreen courtesy of a concerned Izuku. The beach setting was throwing him off.

Sayori, practically sparkling in a pastel swimsuit and a massive sunhat, waved down everyone she could. “Come on, everyone! We even have floaties!”

Kel had already cannonballed into the water, dragging Hero in with him. Mari watched from a shaded spot under a conjured beach umbrella, laughing gently with Aubrey, who was applying excessive sunblock to Basil’s nose.

Sans lounged with Toriel on a beach towel, sipping... something from a coconut. Frisk and Papyrus were building the tallest sandcastle imaginable—with occasional “science upgrades” from Nikolai, who insisted it needed a booby trap.

Looey had an inflatable duck float around his waist, clinging nervously to the shallow edges. Yatta zipped back and forth between everyone, throwing candy at people like some sort of chaotic beach fairy. Sprout and Cosmo had set up a little snack stand that somehow only sold gummy worms and suspicious seaweed chips.

Meanwhile, Miku, Sonic, and Amy were locked in a very dramatic beach volleyball match against Tails, Knuckles, and Metal Sonic—who, despite having no real need for exercise, was dead serious about winning.

Gojo had stolen one of the larger floaties and was drifting aimlessly, sunglasses on, slathered in glittery sunscreen.

“So… where’s David?” Megumi (or Sukuna rather) finally asked from his chair, under a bizarre crab-themed umbrella.

“He’s on enforced vacation,” Monika said, arms crossed and clearly proud of herself. “Storage unit. No beach. No joy. Think of it as character development.”

Geto nodded solemnly. “Rough.”

“Deserved,” Makima added, sipping something ominous and dark.

Meanwhile, far away—back in the quiet, cramped corner of the Hub’s storage complex—David sat on the edge of his creaky cot, flipping through a book with a sigh. He could faintly hear the echo of seagulls and water balloons in the distance.

“They better not be having fun,” he muttered.

They were.

Chapter Text

It was a normal day in the Hub—or at least, it started that way. Birds chirped (despite there being no sky), Monika was organizing files no one else could access, and David was finally allowed to exit his storage unit. Still groggy and sun-deprived, he wandered into the lobby in his usual black hoodie and sweatpants, unaware of the chaos brewing.

“Why is it so... quiet?” he asked.

“Because everyone’s preparing,” Monika replied, sitting at the front desk with an unreadable smile.

“Preparing for what?”

She simply tapped a clipboard. “For your execution.”

“…My what?”

Without warning, alarms blared. A flashing sign above the Hub’s front gate lit up in bold red: “BURN DAVID PROTOCOL: INITIATED.”

A loudspeaker crackled to life.

“ATTENTION HUB MEMBERS,” boomed a synthesized voice that might have been Metal Sonic’s. “PLEASE REPORT TO THE LOBBY FOR TODAY’S COMMUNITY EVENT: BONFIRE DAVE.”

Characters poured in gleefully. Basil tripped over his own feet, still confused. Denji brought gasoline. Power was way too excited. Sprout was wielding a flamethrower. Gojo showed up with marshmallows.

“WHY?!” David shouted, backing into a corner.

“Because Henry wants us to,” Monika said calmly, not even looking up from her clipboard.

“WHO THE HELL IS HENRY?!”

“Exactly,” she whispered.

“Wait. Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. That’s not an answer!”

The crowd started chanting. “HEN-RY! HEN-RY! HEN-RY!”

Even Dandy wore a foam finger labeled #1 HENRY FAN.

“You’re all insane!” David yelled, bolting for the exit. Metal Sonic tackled him mid-run, screeching “FOR THE GLORY OF HENRY.”

Somewhere in the Hub’s vents, Yatta whispered, “I don’t even know who Henry is but this is FUN!”

As flames began to rise from the designated ‘ceremonial bonfire’ pit, David was dragged toward it like a sacrificial offering. Siffrin wandered by, blinked at the scene, and kept walking.

Frisk handed David a stick. “For the s’mores.”

“This isn’t how vacations are supposed to go,” David muttered.

---

Disclaimer: No Davids were actually harmed. This chapter is not canon. Nothing is canon. We have no clue who Henry is either. Do not follow strange chanting.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub’s chaos had gone quiet—at least for David. Everyone else was probably enjoying the beach trip Monika had orchestrated… without him. Again. He wasn’t surprised. The “vacation,” as she put it, meant holing up in his sad excuse for a living space: a dusty storage unit, barely big enough to lie down in.

David leaned back against the wall, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The only light came from a dying bulb above and his cracked tablet screen blinking “no signal.” He didn’t mind the silence—until it was shattered by a low, warbling hum.

A portal tore open in the middle of the room. The edges flickered with unstable energy, deep purple and electric blue weaving in an erratic swirl.

David was on his feet in a second.

And then—

Someone dropped from it.

Someone who looked like him.

Same height. Same posture. Same dark hair, slightly longer, messier. Same coat.

The body hit the ground with a solid thump—face-first.

David blinked, stunned. “...Wait, what the—”

He stepped forward cautiously.

But then he saw the blood.

The man—his variant, apparently—had a gaping wound straight through his torso. A jagged hole in the chest, all the way out the back. The blood was already pooling around him in a slow, expanding circle.

David froze. A chill clutched his spine.

He didn’t even sense the attack. Whoever did this wasn’t in the Hub anymore. This guy… this him... was dead on arrival.

He took another step forward, reaching hesitantly.

Before he could touch the body, the portal flared again. It howled as if reclaiming what it had delivered.

“What—? No, wait!” David shouted, lunging forward—but it was too late.

The corpse was yanked back into the void like a puppet on a string. The vortex closed with a final, sharp snap, and the silence returned.

David stood there, frozen.

A body. His body. A hole through the chest. Just enough time to see it, and then nothing. Not even a name.

He slowly sat back down, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“…The hell kind of warning was that?”

But no answer came. Just the faint metallic drip of lingering blood still trailing on the floor.

And the quiet feeling that something was coming.

Chapter Text

The air buzzed unnaturally in the center of the Hub’s lobby—a familiar sign by now. A portal flickered open near the check-in desk, drawing a few curious glances from nearby Toons.

Cosmo perked up from the candy bar he was sharing with Ginger. “Ooh, another one?”

“Could be a new Toon!” Vee hummed, hovering up for a better view. “Or… a cursed object. Or a sea urchin. Hard to tell with these things.”

The portal spat someone out—small, spinning, flailing—

Thunk!

They landed face-first on the lobby floor with a startled squeak.

“Ahh—o-ow…”

A beige figure uncurled on the floor, groaning. An ammonite shell, wearing a dark brown suspender skirt, orange blush beneath her wide, stunned eyes.

“...Is that a shell girl?” asked Sayori.

“No, that’s Shelly!” Dandy’s voice beamed as he popped into existence, arms raised like a magician revealing a trick. “Straight from Dandy’s World!”

Shelly blinked, slowly pushing herself up. She dusted off her skirt and looked around—Toons, heroes, weird humans, monsters, machines. The Multiversal Hub.

“Wha… where am I?”

“You’re safe,” Monika assured her with a practiced smile. “Welcome to the Hub.”

Shelly blinked again. Then something else caught her eye—no, someone.

Across the room, just emerging from the hallway of residential units, stood a young man in a dark hoodie, blinking sleep from his eyes. His hair was unkempt, his expression flat—until their eyes met.

Shelly froze.

Her pupils shrank. Her breath hitched.

It was him.

David.

No—not him. Their David was a Toon Handler. He smiled. He reassured her when no one else noticed her. He knew about every fossil she talked about.

He was the only one who didn’t ignore her.

“...D-David?” she whispered.

He blinked, confused. “Wait. Do I know you—?”

She took a step back, tears immediately brimming. “Y-You’re not… you’re not him!”

And just like that, she turned and fled—barreling down a side hallway, sobbing.

The room fell silent.

David just stood there, stunned, heart pounding harder than it should’ve. He knew that face. The way she looked at him.

He thought back to the other day—the corpse. The impaled variant with his face. The one that vanished.

He clenched a fist.

“...She knew him.”

And now he had to carry that ghost, too.

Chapter Text

Shelly was still trying to process everything.

The Hub was so different from Dandy’s World—louder, brighter, more chaotic in every possible direction. Everywhere she looked, there were people talking, running, fighting, laughing—living. It wasn’t like Gardenview. It wasn’t like home.

And worst of all, he was here.

He looked like David. Sounded like him too. But something was off. He wasn’t the same David that had taught her how to patch balloon seams. The David who had remembered her favorite ammonite species. Who had made her feel seen when all the other Toons had brushed past her like she wasn’t even real.

This David didn’t recognize her. Not really.

Sure, he’d been polite—awkwardly so. He’d offered her candy (she didn’t have the heart to say she didn’t like licorice) and asked if she was adjusting okay. But every time she looked into his eyes, she only saw the hole in the chest of the one she had known. The one who had fallen face-first in front of her counterpart, impaled and lifeless.

Now this David looked too young. Too worn. Like the world had tried to crush him from a different angle.

Shelly sat curled up on one of the Hub’s lower lounge couches, her spiral shell pressed gently to the cushion. Her sketchbook was open in her lap, but she hadn’t drawn anything in an hour.

She could hear Looey’s faint voice nearby—something about cookie frosting and balloon patch glue. He was trying, like he always did. He was sweet like that.

But it wasn’t enough to distract her from the ache in her chest.

“He doesn’t remember,” she whispered to herself, tracing the spiral of her shell absentmindedly. “But I do.”

There were no fossils in the Hub. No ancient bones or long-dead creatures to study. But Shelly knew what extinction felt like.

It felt like being the only one who remembered a bond that no longer existed.

Chapter Text

David stared into his half-empty mug of lukewarm tea, sitting across from Sprout in one of the Hub’s quieter kitchen nooks. The strawberry Toon fidgeted with a napkin, eyes flicking toward the hallway as if waiting for someone to call him away. But David had cornered him for a reason.

“Sprout,” David said slowly, “that variant of me… the one from Dandy’s World. What happened to him?”

Sprout froze. The napkin in his hands crumpled. “That’s… not something we usually talk about.”

“I figured,” David replied. “But I saw the look in Shelly’s eyes. She thought I was him. And when she realized I wasn’t—” He shook his head. “I need to know.”

Silence settled between them for a long moment.

Then, finally, Sprout exhaled. “He was a good guy. He meant a lot to a lot of us. Especially the Gardenview Toons. Especially Shelly.”

David’s breath caught.

“She… she saw him like a father,” Sprout continued. “He protected her. Made sure she felt important, even when no one else listened. He saw all of us. It’s part of why his… death hit so hard.”

David went quiet. A father figure? Him?

He never really thought about being seen that way. But something in him cracked a little—maybe guilt, maybe longing. Maybe both.

He leaned back in his seat, eyes distant. “I guess I have one goal now.”

Sprout looked at him, puzzled. “What’s that?”

David gave a short laugh. “Become a teenage dad.”

The line made Sprout snort in spite of himself. But the laughter faded fast.

David looked back at him, more serious now. “Tell me the truth, though. That variant. Did anyone try to save him?”

Sprout’s smile fell. He hesitated again. “…I did.”

David blinked. “You?”

“I found him. Bleeding out, barely conscious. I—I don’t know what I was thinking, but I couldn’t let him go like that.” Sprout’s voice lowered. “I dragged him back, stashed him away. Tried everything I could. Weeks passed, and… somehow, he got better. He actually stood up.”

David felt a cold chill down his spine.

“But not even a week later,” Sprout continued, “he vanished. No goodbye. No sign of where he went. Just… gone.”

David sat with that information for a long while.

And in the back of his mind, a new thought brewed. If Sprout knew this… who else did?

He turned to Sprout, voice low.

“…Does Dandy know what happened to him?”

Sprout didn’t answer.

He just looked away.

Chapter Text

Shelly had been at the Hub for a few days now. Everything was different. Everything was loud. Everything was so many people.

She clutched her sketchbook tightly to her chest as she shuffled through the main lounge. Vee and Astro were tossing popcorn into each other's mouths from across the couch. Ginger was trying to decorate the back of Cosmo’s shirt with frosting for some reason. It smelled vaguely like cookies and bad ideas.

“Hey! Shelly, right?” a voice chirped.

Shelly turned—and instantly flinched. Natsuki was standing there with a scowl that looked a little too intense to be friendly, but… apparently, that was just her resting face.

“I heard you like drawing. Yuri won’t shut up about prehistoric plants and I need someone to sketch dinosaur stickers for my poetry journal. You in or not?”

“…Uh. Okay?”

“That’s the spirit!” Natsuki grinned, dragging her toward the kitchen counter where a few colored pencils had already been laid out.

Later, while Shelly focused on sketching a slightly confused-looking triceratops, someone else slid into the chair beside her.

“Cool shell.”

She looked up. It was Sonic. Like, the Sonic. He popped a chili dog into his mouth, crumbs falling on the table.

“You ever race snails?” he asked, dead serious.

“Uh… no. But I’ve seen ammonites fossilized in shale layers dating back to the Cretaceous period?”

Sonic blinked. “…I have no idea what you just said, but that sounds awesome.”

And then, later still, she was approached by none other than Sayori, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Do you wanna join our weekly chaos picnic?” she asked.

“Chaos… picnic?”

“Yup! It’s just eating snacks with everyone while random nonsense happens around us. Last week Monika brought philosophy books and Gojo summoned a watermelon that exploded. Fun, right?”

Shelly hesitated… then gave a shy smile. “Sure.”

As the day wore on, she found herself surrounded by characters she never thought she’d meet—talking to Mari about flower pressing, getting absolutely crushed by Denji in a card game called “Cursed Uno,” and receiving a soft “hi” from Sunny, who promptly handed her a little origami ammonite without saying another word.

They didn’t ignore her.

Not like back home.

But even with the smiles and the odd, loud comfort of the Hub… every time she passed David’s door—that David—something in her chest tightened. He wasn’t him. But he was also the closest thing she had now.

And maybe… just maybe… she could try again.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub was already chaotic, but today?

Today it sparkled.

Literally.

Pink flower petals rained down from the sky, a dramatic gust of wind swept through the main plaza, and a massive golden frame shimmered into existence in front of the fountain. Trumpets—somehow—blared.

Out stepped six boys in fancy uniforms and perfect posture.

“Ladies,” the blonde one said, flipping his hair with dazzling confidence. “The Ouran High School Host Club has arrived!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then:

“Is that Tamaki Suoh!?” screeched Natsuki from across the plaza. “AND HIKARU AND KAORU?!”

“Why are they posing like that?” mumbled Yuji, eyes wide.

“They always pose like that,” muttered Dazai. “They’re sparkly on purpose.”

Shelly watched in stunned silence as the group of charming chaos-makers instantly took over the plaza. Tamaki had already draped his arm around Monika’s shoulders. Mori had given Mewo a head pat, much to Mari’s delight. Honey offered Cosmo a pink frosted cake.

“Oh, I like them,” Ginger whispered. “They match the frosting energy.”

Meanwhile, David—still “on vacation” in his storage unit—glanced toward the ceiling as another burst of glitter rained down outside his vent.

“What in the fresh hell is going on now?” he muttered, burying his face in a pillow.

Back at the Hub proper, Denji tried to arm-wrestle Mori (and failed instantly), Power challenged Honey to a candy-eating contest, and Rex Splode attempted to flirt with Haruhi, only to realize she was just as capable of sarcasm as he was.

The twins, Hikaru and Kaoru, had already found their favorite plaything: Gojo.

“This guy’s perfect for our pranks.”

“I am perfect,” Gojo grinned. “Let’s glitter bomb Sukuna.”

“No,” Megumi snapped from across the plaza. “Absolutely not.”

As the sun dipped over the edge of the artificial sky, the newcomers set up an elaborate, pink-draped canopy tent in the garden area and announced an “Evening of Elegance” event. Flyers rained down like cherry blossoms.

Sprout caught one and raised an eyebrow.

“Well. This should be fun.”

Shelly quietly picked up a flower petal that had landed on her head. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but for the first time… the chaos wasn’t overwhelming.

It was starting to feel like home.

Chapter Text

The door to David’s storage unit creaked open.

After what felt like years (in reality, two weeks), he emerged, hair messier than usual, dark circles under his eyes, and an odd crick in his neck from sleeping on uneven metal. But his stride?

Determined.

Focused.

Fatherly.

He stretched his arms, took one look at the sparkle-infested plaza leftover from the Ouran Host Club’s “Evening of Elegance,” and exhaled.

“I leave for two weeks and this happens.”

But he wasn’t here to complain. He was on a mission.

Shelly.

He found her in the garden, sitting on a bench beside Ginger and Cosmo, quietly doodling dinosaurs in a sketchpad. She didn’t notice him approach until he crouched beside her.

“…Hey,” he said.

She flinched at first, eyes wide, but relaxed slightly when she realized who it was. Still, a wary look stayed in her eyes.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” David said gently. “I just… wanted to let you know I’m back. And if you need someone—anyone—I’m here. I know I’m not him, but…”

He paused.

“I want to be.”

Shelly blinked, lip trembling for a moment. Then she shoved the sketchpad at him.

It was a drawing of two shells—one big, one small—walking through a field of ammonites.

“...You're the first person to ask how I’m doing,” she mumbled.

David’s expression softened. He sat beside her and began asking about dinosaurs, her favorite prehistoric era, and whether she’d ever heard of an Allosaurus. (She had. She corrected his pronunciation.)

Across the Hub, various onlookers peeked from behind corners.

“He’s back…” whispered Sayori.

“And he’s a dad now, apparently,” added Yuri, amused.

“A teen dad,” Monika corrected, nodding approvingly. “Character development.”

Dandy, sipping a strawberry smoothie beside Sprout, just smiled faintly.

“He needed this.”

Sprout stayed quiet.

Because deep down, he was still wondering if it was right to let this David take the role of that David. But one look at Shelly—smiling, for the first time in ages—and the guilt eased, just a little.

Meanwhile, in the background, Tamaki tried to invite David to tea.

David declined.

He had dinosaurs to learn about.

Chapter Text

David stared at his reflection in a cracked mirror in the Hub’s shared washroom. Water dripped slowly from the tap. He didn’t move to stop it.

Behind him, the world bustled: Miku singing in the plaza, Sonic racing past Metal Sonic on the walkways, and Gojo loudly complaining about “how much better” the Host Club’s tea was than any tea in Jujutsu Tech.

But in here, it was still.

And quiet.

His fingers hovered near the sink’s edge, gripping it tighter than needed. His eyes were dull.

“Just tired,” he muttered to no one.

It wasn’t about the noise. It wasn’t about the chaos or the weird beach residue still stuck between his toes from that day. No—David didn’t know what it was.

Maybe it was the memory of a corpse that looked too much like him.

Maybe it was the weight of playing a role he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Maybe it was just the fact that… for once, there was no war, no screaming, no orders to bark. Just quiet. Which could be so much worse.

He sat down outside the storage unit—his “home”—arms folded on his knees. He stayed like that for a while. Long enough for the lights to change. For the Hub’s simulated day to dip toward dusk.

Then came a sound: footsteps.

Tiny, careful ones.

Shelly.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just sat beside him with a sandwich in her lap—crusts cut off.

“I thought maybe you’d forget to eat,” she said softly. “So I brought two.”

David didn’t answer.

Not right away.

But eventually, he took the sandwich and gave a small, forced chuckle. “Thanks, Shelly.”

Shelly leaned her head against his arm, and for the first time that day, he exhaled without a tremble.

He wasn’t okay.

But he wasn’t alone.

Somewhere far across the Hub, Monika watched quietly from a monitor.

“Just keep going,” she whispered.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub had returned to its usual clamor: loud, chaotic, borderline absurd. Denji was wrestling with Knuckles over the last meat bun. Power was throwing random furniture at Makima, who hadn’t blinked in ten minutes. In another corner, Yuri politely offered tea to a very nervous Izuku. All was…normal.

But David wasn’t part of it.

He was back in the training sector, slashing at a phantom projection with more force than needed. Sweat dripped down his neck. His brows furrowed, teeth clenched.

Again.
Again.
Again.

The projection flickered—his own face.
The dead version.
Bloodied. Hole in his chest.

David swung—
Hard.
It shattered.

He stood there panting, eyes locked on the remains of the illusion. "It wasn’t me," he said aloud. "But it could’ve been."

Behind him, Dazai leaned against a pillar. He hadn’t said a word since entering.

“You’re spiraling,” Dazai finally spoke, voice too light for the weight of his words. “Not in the dramatic, suicidal way, though… hopefully.”

David flinched at that.

Dazai’s smile faded, gaze sharpening. “Look, you’re not the first guy here with a dead version of himself trailing behind like a ghost. But bottling it all up? Not sustainable.”

David gritted his teeth. “What do you want me to say? That I’m terrified? That the corpse looked peaceful and I’m jealous?” He laughed bitterly. “He got to rest.”

Dazai didn’t reply.

Instead, he walked forward and flicked David on the forehead.

“Ow—what the hell?”

“You're alive. That means something.” He glanced toward the monitor blinking in the distance—Monika’s watchful eye. “At least here, you’ve got the chance to choose who you become. Not everyone gets that.”

David looked away.

Later that evening, in the quiet of the storage unit, Shelly sat on the edge of his bed, sketching little doodles of ammonites and dinosaurs. David watched her, a hand pressed over his heart. He still felt the phantom pain. Still remembered the hole.

But the warmth was there, too.

She didn’t say a word.

But her presence spoke louder than anything else.

Chapter Text

David had only just returned to his full duties at the Hub, his so-called “vacation” behind him, when the unthinkable happened:

He got cornered by seven overly charismatic, overly elegant, overly intense high school boys in frilly uniforms.

“You must be the infamous David,” Tamaki Suoh said, rose petals inexplicably floating around him like he was a walking shoujo filter. “Ah... How tragic! Such a haunted gaze—so mature, yet so wounded. A man carrying the weight of worlds!”

David blinked. “Do you... need something?”

“We want to formally welcome you to our presence,” Kyouya added, adjusting his glasses with a calculative glint. “It seems improper we’ve gone this long without introducing ourselves, considering how deeply you’ve involved yourself in this Hub.”

He looked past them. Behind Tamaki, the rest of the Host Club trailed in varying degrees of chaos. Hikaru and Kaoru were whispering conspiratorially, already eyeing Looey like he was their next prank victim. Mori stood silent, cradling Honey, who was more focused on staring wide-eyed at Ginger’s frosting hair. “Is it edible?” he whispered, to which Cosmo immediately replied, “NO.”

David stepped back instinctively. “This place is chaotic enough. I’m not babysitting seven more.”

“Oh, we’re very self-sufficient,” Kyouya said, unbothered. “We’re here as ambassadors of elegance. Charm. Class.”

“That one just tried to eat a crayon,” David deadpanned, pointing to Honey who had, in fact, taken a bite out of a teal crayon Basil had dropped.

“Crayon?” Honey mumbled, chewing thoughtfully. “Mmm... blueberry.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna need a five-minute break.”

“No, wait!” Tamaki pleaded, grabbing David’s hand dramatically. “Your aura—it’s screaming! You’re a man who needs—no, deserves—to be pampered! What is this exhaustion that clings to you like shadows?”

David stared at him blankly. “I was impaled a few days ago.”

Tamaki fainted on the spot.

Yuri, who had been reading on a bench nearby, looked up with concern. “Should we tell him about the Storage Room Incident?”

“No,” Monika muttered from behind her laptop, “He’s had enough trauma for one arc.”

Mari poked her head in from the hallway. “Hey, David? Shelly asked if you could help her name her new plushie.”

David straightened up slightly. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

“Wait, wait—!” Tamaki shouted, immediately recovered. “I must know! If you are to be her father figure... where is the tragic backstory?!”

“It’s ongoing,” David muttered as he walked off.

Elsewhere in the Hub...

Kel had somehow ended up in a host-themed skit run by the Hitachiin twins and Looey, dressed in matching suits. They were trying to convince Basil to be the "shy bookish guest" while Aubrey threw candy at Honey to distract him from stealing all the cookies.

Meanwhile, Shelly sat with Sayori and Vee, watching with wide eyes. “It’s... a lot.”

Sayori grinned. “You get used to it. Sort of.”

Shelly’s eyes wandered over to David. Despite the chaos, he was smiling slightly as he ruffled Mari’s hair and handed her a juice box. It was strange—good strange, but still strange—to see this version of him so active. Present. She hugged her plush tighter.

Maybe this Hub was weird. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Chapter Text

The chaos started during lunch. The Multiversal Hub’s café was unusually crowded, and the Hitachiin twins had made it worse.

“Guess who’s Hikaru and who’s Kaoru!” the two redheaded troublemakers chimed in perfect unison.

“Left is Hikaru?” said Izuku, squinting.

“Wrong,” they said.

“Right is Kaoru!” declared Amy.

“Nope.”

“Does it matter?” muttered Shigaraki.

“Yes,” they chorused, arms crossed.

They weaved through the crowd, confusing half the cast with their practiced deception. Denji gave up and started eating snacks off someone’s tray. Miku tried identifying them with rhythm patterns—unsuccessful. Even Basil tried sketching them from memory, only to give up and draw flowers instead.

Gojo smirked, activating his Six Eyes for the pettiest of reasons. “Hikaru’s on the left. Kaoru’s on the right.”

“Correct,” they admitted, pouting.

Monika didn’t even look up from her screen. “Kaoru’s fidgeting more. He always does when he’s nervous.”

“…Correct.”

Sprout, from across the room: “One of you has a slightly longer eyelash on the left eye. Kaoru.”

“…How?”

Then came David.

The twins cornered him while he was trying to carry three drinks and a bag of lunch for Shelly, Mari, and Sunny.

“Daaaavid,” Kaoru drawled.

“Guess who’s who~” Hikaru added, circling him.

David didn’t even look at them. “Hikaru’s on the left. Kaoru’s on the right.”

They froze.

He kept walking like it was nothing.

“…Wait. Wait—wait!” Kaoru jogged after him. “HOW?!”

David didn’t stop. “Your part is different.”

They blinked.

“…Our hair part?”

“No. Your... personality part.”

“THAT MEANS NOTHING!” Hikaru cried out, dramatically collapsing into Tamaki’s arms, who immediately sobbed at the “tragedy of individuality lost in symmetry.”

“I just don’t get it,” Kaoru muttered. “We’ve stumped everyone for years. What makes him so special?”

“Trauma,” said Monika, sipping tea behind them.

Shelly looked up at David from where she sat with Mari. “You really guessed that right?”

David nodded. “I just… noticed. I pay attention.”

She smiled faintly, curling her fingers around the edge of her juice box. “You always do.”

---

Later...

In the observation lounge, Gojo leaned toward Monika.

“Be honest,” he whispered. “Do you know how he actually figured it out?”

Monika’s lips twitched into a smile. “I have a theory.”

“Yeah?”

“David’s the kind of person who doesn’t always look closely at people—but when he does, it’s because he cares.”

Gojo blinked.

“…Huh.”

Back in the café, David sat with the others as Shelly animatedly talked about ammonite fossils. Mari and Sunny nodded along, occasionally asking questions. He wasn’t smiling, but he looked present.

Kaoru and Hikaru watched from afar, quiet for once.

“…Maybe we were wrong about him,” Kaoru murmured.

“…Yeah,” Hikaru added. “He’s cooler than he looks.”

“Still not as pretty, though.”

“Obviously.”

Chapter Text

It was a relatively quiet morning in the Multiversal Hub—quiet meaning the café wasn’t on fire, Dandy’s Shop hadn’t exploded (again), and Gojo hadn’t pranked Nikolai by swapping his entire wardrobe with bunny onesies.

David found himself uncharacteristically relaxed. No looming threats. No alternate universe corpses. Just… peace.

He blinked. “This is suspicious.”

“Don’t jinx it,” said Monika, walking past with a clipboard, “or I’m throwing you into a filler arc.”

---

Later, at the kitchen corner…

“I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that,” Kaoru mumbled.

The pancakes on the stove were very much on fire.

Haruhi, arms crossed, stared blankly. “You didn’t add milk.”

“We thought it was optional!” Hikaru defended.

“Why would milk be optional in batter?”

“Because they said so,” Hikaru and Kaoru pointed in unison.

“…Why are you blaming David?”

David stood in the corner, arms crossed, very much not responsible, yet too tired to argue.

“I said, quote, ‘I don’t cook.’”

“You said it suspiciously calmly,” Kaoru replied.

“Yeah! You tricked us into trusting you.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was literally doing laundry.”

“Hi, David!” Shelly called from behind, peeking in. “They said you were helping cook—oh.”

“…I plead the fifth.”

Meanwhile, with the Host Club…

Tamaki practically threw himself at David in a flurry of roses. “Welcome to our humble palace of friendship! We’re honored by your presence—!”

“Please don’t call this a palace,” David muttered.

“Don’t worry,” Kyoya added calmly. “We keep the dramatics localized to Tamaki.”

Oddly, David didn’t hate being around them. He could feel the tension behind their smiles—people who practiced charm like performance, like masks. It was familiar.

“…You’re all pretty used to faking it, huh?” he said without thinking.

The twins glanced at him.

Tamaki froze.

Kyoya looked up from his clipboard.

“…Took you long enough to notice,” Kyoya said after a beat, almost impressed.

Elsewhere...

Later that afternoon, David ended up on the couch next to Zenitsu and Shoto. A weird pairing—one talked too much, the other barely at all.

David didn’t mind.

“I think I’m allergic to flour,” Zenitsu sobbed, flopping dramatically. “My face feels itchy. Am I dying?”

“You licked a raw pancake,” David deadpanned.

Shoto handed Zenitsu a damp towel. “You’ll live.”

“…Are you sure?”

David sighed, then got up and returned with tea.

Zenitsu blinked. “You brought me tea?”

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Thank you!” he wailed, crying again for no reason.

“…Do you do this often?” Shoto asked.

“What? Deal with idiots?”

“No. Help people quietly.”

David paused, then shrugged. “…Yeah.”

Later, much later…

David sat alone, watching the moonless purple sky out of a window in one of the quiet halls.

Footsteps approached behind him—Shelly.

She sat next to him wordlessly, handing him a slightly burnt pancake from earlier. It was shaped like a triceratops.

“…You made this?”

She nodded. “It’s a little crispy.”

David smiled faintly. “It’s perfect.”

They sat in silence. The kind of silence that felt like something important was healing, just beneath the surface.

Chapter Text

“DAVID’S DEAD?!”

The shriek echoed across the Multiversal Hub, startling everyone from their breakfast routines to their existential dread.

“Again?!” someone else shouted from the other room.

[Location: Café - 8:13 AM]

David lay motionless on the floor, a pool of red beneath his head and neck. His skin was pale. His throat was clearly slit open. A piece of toast still hung from his hand.

Sayori gasped. “Th-that’s not strawberry jam, is it?!”

Gojo appeared behind her, flipping his blindfold up. “No cursed energy involved. This was purely physical—which is weird.”

Yoru grinned, fangs bared. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Monika was already at the scene, clipboard in hand. “Hub-wide murder mystery trial. Let’s go.”

[The Interrogations Begin]

Makima: “He’s a nuisance, but I’d at least make it look like an accident.”

Power: “NOT ME! I WOULD HAVE EATEN HIM!”

Zenitsu: “W-we’re allowed to die here?!?”

Kyoya (calmly): “I had no motive. Yet.”

Tamaki (sobbing): “David-kun… nooooooo!”

Sprout: “No comment.”

Sans: “i woulda gone for a pun, not a slice.”

Spider-Man: “Are we not gonna mention the camera caught nothing?”

[The Clues]

No energy or power signatures.

Broken glass by the countertop.

A jam jar mysteriously missing.

Dandy drew chalk outlines. In crayon.

Hero’s pancake flipper is missing.

Mari looked over the chaos, then whispered to Hero, “Why does this feel like a comedy sketch?”

Hero: “Because it is.”

[The Accusations]

Monika blamed Makima.

Makima blamed Power.

Power blamed Shelly.

Shelly blamed the toaster.

The toaster was suspiciously silent.

Yuta tried to intervene with logic. It was ineffective.

[2 Hours Later]

Just as a trial was about to begin (hosted by Dazai, of all people), a groggy David stumbled into the room, still bleeding slightly.

Everyone froze.

“…Are you a ghost?” Sunny asked softly.

“No,” David rasped. “I tripped. On glass. Slit my own throat.”

Silence.

“...WHAT.”

David coughed, then glared. “And the auto-healing system glitched. Again.”

Monika immediately pulled out a new clipboard. “So we’re fixing that today.”

“I almost DIED.”

“You did die,” Gojo corrected. “Technically. Proud of you.”

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub had quiet moments too. You just had to know where to look.

Natsuki wasn’t in the commons, wasn’t sparring with Power or yelling at Denji, and she certainly wasn’t participating in whatever karaoke chaos was happening down the hall. No, today, she was in the kitchen. Alone.

She stared at the mixing bowl like it had insulted her mother.

The cupcake batter stuck to her spoon, pink and sugary. Familiar. Safe. It was the same recipe she’d memorized back home—except here, the sugar didn’t taste quite right. Too artificial. Too perfect.

Like the Hub itself.

She wiped her eye. “Don’t be stupid,” she muttered to herself.

A soft meow echoed. Mewo sat by her feet, blinking up at her. Mari must’ve let her wander again.

“Go bother someone else,” Natsuki said, voice cracking just a little. Mewo didn’t move.

The oven dinged.

She pulled out the tray with practiced precision, placing the tiny cakes on the counter like porcelain figures. Flawless. Pastel pink. Just how she used to make them for—

Her hand trembled. The frosting bag crumpled in her grip.

She hadn’t told anyone. Not Monika. Not Sayori. Not even Yuri. Why would she?

No one here knew what it was like to go back to an empty house, to a father with anger in his voice and vodka on his breath. No one here knew what it was like to count bruises under long sleeves and bake cupcakes like it was some kind of armor.

No one… except maybe David. She hadn’t said anything, but sometimes, the look in his eyes said he knew. Like he’d lived it, too. But even then, she kept her mouth shut. She always did.

She hated crying. Hated it. But her throat was tight, and her fingers were clenched, and she couldn’t stop the single, bitter tear that landed right on the cupcake in front of her. It ruined the frosting.

“Figures,” she whispered.

Behind her, someone entered. Not a word. Just a presence.

It was Sprout.

He didn’t speak. Just stood beside her, placed a second tray of unbaked cookies onto the counter. Quiet. Respectful.

Natsuki didn’t look up. “What? You gonna lecture me about not cleaning up?”

“No,” Sprout said softly. “I just wanted to bake too.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“…Because it helps.” A beat. “Because sometimes, the Hub is too loud. And sometimes, it’s too quiet.”

Natsuki looked at him, really looked at him.

She nodded once, stiffly, and passed him the bowl.

Neither said a word after that.

Just sugar, and silence, and two broken kids trying to feel whole again.

Chapter Text

The sun was still fake. The sky was still a weird pastel blue that somehow felt like both morning and afternoon. And the Multiversal Hub? It was right back to its chaotic, borderline nonsensical self.

David sipped from a cup of instant coffee that might’ve been conjured or brewed—he didn’t remember anymore. He leaned against the railing outside the commons area, watching the madness unfold below.

Power was riding Sonic like a battle steed, waving a mop above her head like it was Excalibur.

"CHARGE!" she yelled as Sonic yelped something indignant and bolted down the hallway, knocking over a very startled Yuri and nearly running through Yuta.

Yoru and Makima stood off to the side, betting on how long Sonic could keep running before he dumped Power into the fountain. (Makima had ten minutes. Yoru had five.)

Inside the lounge, the Host Club had taken over half the space. Tamaki was mid-swoon, offering a rose to Sayori, who giggled nervously, while the twins were actively confusing Toriel and Papyrus with their identity-swapping act. Again.

"Skeletons can't blush," Papyrus insisted.

Gojo appeared upside down from the ceiling, spinning slowly. “Y’all ever think about how weird it is that we’re all here and no one’s spontaneously combusted lately?”

“You died somewhere offscreen like two days ago,” Monika deadpanned from the armchair, flipping through a data pad. “Your head exploded.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because?”

“I got better.”

Sprout peeked into the room, a slightly worried look on his face. “Has anyone seen Shelly? She was supposed to meet Ginger for fossil painting an hour ago.”

“She’s talking Hero’s ear off about trilobites,” Basil called from the nearby table, where he and Ena were sketching strange abstract shapes that suspiciously resembled everyone in the room. “Pretty sure he’s too polite to stop her.”

A small thud interrupted the moment. A portal had opened near the middle of the room—and out fell Looey, slightly deflated, his polka-dotted sweater fluttering as he hit the floor.

“I-I’m okay!!” he squeaked.

“Catch!” Dandy called cheerfully, lobbing a muffin toward Looey’s face. The balloon boy bounced back to his feet, catching the snack mid-air with a grin.

David chuckled, finally stepping back inside.

Yep. The Hub was back to its usual strange, lovable self.

And honestly? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

“So. David,” Kaoru began, arms crossed, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Explain this.”

On the table in front of him was a photo. A very unfortunate one. It was from yesterday—David asleep on the couch, Shoto Todoroki curled up against him, and Denji sprawled across David’s lap like a golden retriever who just discovered human furniture. All three of them were very unconscious. And someone (cough Monika) had drawn pink hearts around it.

David blinked. “That’s not what it looks like.”

Hikaru smirked. “It looks like a harem anime, dude.”

Sayori peeked over their shoulders. “Awwww, that’s kinda cute!”

“It’s not cute,” David muttered. “I just fell asleep. They followed.”

“Voluntarily?” Monika chimed in, materializing out of thin air like some smug AI-coded ghost. “Because I distinctly remember you patting Denji’s head before you passed out.”

“That’s called being nice.”

Gojo slid up beside him, sunglasses glinting. “Mhm. And the way you call Yuta ‘pretty boy’ sometimes? Totally platonic, right?”

David turned red. “That was one time, and he was literally glowing.”

“I think it’s nice,” Yuri said gently. “You're just... emotionally available.”

“Sounds gay to me,” Power said, chewing on something that was probably food.

Sprout, bless his little plant soul, waved. “I think David’s just... David.”

A beat passed.

“Thanks, Sprout,” David said, patting his head.

Then—

“HELLO HUB DWELLERS!” Tamaki Suoh burst in dramatically, rose petals flying from nowhere. “I have prepared a compatibility chart! Based on yesterday’s observations, I’ve concluded David is at least 30% romantically compatible with six individuals!”

David looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor. “Tamaki—”

“INCLUDING ME!” Tamaki sparkled.

“OH MY GOD.”

He stormed out of the room, brushing past Miku humming a love ballad and Vee dramatically playing sad violin music. Even Rex Splode gave him a wink on the way out.

Somewhere outside, Hero casually asked, “So you are gay?”

“No!” David snapped.

“Bi?”

“No!!”

“Pan?”

“NOTHING! I AM NOTHING!!”

Later that night, as David sat in his room, rereading Sprout’s old logs and sipping tea, a tiny sticky note was slipped under his door.

It read:

“Hey. Whether you’re straight, bi, or a toaster—just don’t forget you’re loved.”
– Monika (and like 30 other people)

David stared at the note for a long moment.

Then smiled.

“…Still not gay though.”

Probably.

Chapter Text

The common room was way too quiet.

Which, in the Multiversal Hub, was a terrifying omen.

David stepped inside, halfway through a cup of black coffee (yes, black—no sugar, no milk, like the bitter little fifteen-year-old he was), and absolutely not in the mood for whatever fresh embarrassment was waiting for him.

He spotted it instantly.

A massive whiteboard stood at the center of the room, decked out in pink construction paper, glitter glue, Sharpie hearts, and—God help him—macaroni art. At the top, in sparkly gold cursive that somehow screamed threat, read:

“TAMAKI’S HUB-WIDE COMPATIBILITY ANALYSIS: The David Lin Edition!”

David stopped in his tracks. Blinked.

“…What the actual hell is this.”

Tamaki Suoh emerged from behind the board with a flourish, dressed like a game show host and glowing with pride. “David! Just in time for your emotional enlightenment!”

“I’m fifteen,” David deadpanned. “This better be a prank.”

“Love has no age limit!” Tamaki declared, clasping his hands over his chest.

“It absolutely does,” David snapped. “And it should, or half this chart is gonna get someone arrested.”

“Details, details,” Tamaki waved him off. “Now allow me to present—your romantic destiny!”

He pointed his glitter wand (a chopstick with rhinestones hot-glued to it) at the whiteboard.

Tier One: Unquestionably Compatible (According to Tamaki, Who Is Not a Licensed Therapist)

Monika – “Smart. Elegant. Terrifyingly competent. She’s like an older sister... or maybe a strict CEO who gently manipulates you into self-growth. Either way, the energy crackles.”

Yuta Okkotsu – “You train together. You support each other emotionally. Also, you called him ‘stupidly pretty’ under your breath once.”

Shoto Todoroki – “Tragic backstory. Deadpan voice. Mutual understanding of unresolved trauma. It’s giving Sad Boys Support Group.”

Hero – “He makes you laugh. You act like a grumpy dad around him, and yet you let him steal your hoodie. Suspiciously soft.”

Mari – “The obvious choice. Childhood history, quiet affection, warm trust. It’s basically a Studio Ghibli plot.”

Tier Two: Chaotic Energy Couples (Please Never Let These Be Real)

Denji – “Golden retriever chaos meets emotionally exhausted housecat. You barely keep him alive.”

Power – “You once threatened to strangle each other in the kitchen. But like... with affection? I think?”

Gojo Satoru – “Endless flirting. Snark battles. Inappropriate jokes. You look at him like he’s an unpaid babysitting shift.”

Tamaki Suoh (me) – “Imagine the aesthetics, David. The sparkles. The contrast. The unspoken tension!”

Tier Three: Surprise Contenders (and Mostly Platonic, Calm Down)

Sprout – “NOT romantic. But he’s your emotional support cryptid. You’d protect him with your life.”

Veronica Sawyer – “Bonded over nihilism and powdered cocoa. Actually kind of sweet? But still—older than you.”

Vee – “They terrify you and you like that. This is called having bad taste.”

Tier Four: ‘Hot’ in Theory, Criminal in Practice

Geto Suguru – “Too old. Too hot. Too evil. This is fanfiction bait and we all know it.”

Atsushi Nakajima – “Soft boys crying together is not a dating dynamic. That’s a trauma support group.”

JD – “HE’S A MURDERER,” David barked.

“But so stylish,” Tamaki whispered dramatically. “Aesthetics, David.”

David turned to the assembled crowd.

Kaoru and Hikaru were running a betting pool. Yuri looked like she wanted to flee. Natsuki was physically wheezing. Gojo was eating popcorn and making no effort to hide his amusement.

“None of these are appropriate,” David snapped. “Most of these people are adults!”

“That’s what the ‘in theory’ tag is for,” Monika added with a serene sip of tea.

“I’m literally a child.”

“Yes,” Tamaki agreed, “but a very shippable one!”

“Do you hear yourselves?!”

He stormed out of the room, hands in his hoodie pocket and expression already set to tired beyond belief.

Halfway down the hallway, he pulled out his phone and opened his Notes app with a sigh.

Compatibility list (real one):

Mari – obviously

Sprout – my son. No romance. Stop asking.

Hero – …maybe??

Not Denji. Not Gojo. Definitely not JD.

WHY IS YUTA KIND OF CUTE STOP THAT

reminder: you are FIFTEEN. drink water. go outside.

He stared at it.

Then sighed again.

“…I need new friends.”

Back in the common room, Tamaki’s voice echoed behind him:

“NEXT WEEK—THE TOON COMPATIBILITY SPECIAL!”

A collective groan rippled across the Hub.

Chapter Text

The newest compatibility chart had appeared like a curse above the café’s pastry case, as if croissants needed to suffer too.

“DAVID COMPATIBILITY RESULTS”
Compiled by: Tamaki Suoh
Supervised (under duress) by: Monika

David stopped dead in his tracks.

There it was. His name—DAVID LIN—plastered in the center like a war crime, surrounded by hearts, arrows, and fluorescent notes pointing at names like:

“Haruhi”

“Gojo”

“Mari”

“Kunikida…??? (seriously, why?)”

“Wildcard: Power??”

He turned to Monika, who was behind the counter pretending the sugar jar was more interesting than this nightmare made of glitter.

“You watched them put this up?”

“I tried to stop them,” she said evenly.

“You literally have admin powers. You could’ve vaporized it. Or set the whole board on fire.”

“I almost did,” she muttered. “Then Tamaki brought out a glue gun shaped like a swan, and I lost the will to argue.”

David muttered something in German that made nearby electronics flicker. He crumpled the chart like it was a death threat and chucked it into the recycling bin with Olympic precision.

He didn’t miss.

By lunchtime, the teasing had begun.

“You and Haruhi would be adorable,” Sayori said with too much glee.

“You give off emotionally constipated slowburn vibes,” Yuri added helpfully, sipping tea like this was a literary analysis.

Gojo, lounging in the booth like a proud menace, raised his drink. “Look at you, getting more attention than I did at fifteen. Honestly? I'm threatened.”

“Shut the fuck up,” David said flatly. “You're old. Go bother someone with taxes.”

Even Power joined in. “You like blood, yeah? That’s romantic. We could stab something together.”

David gave her a long, exhausted look. “Power. I say this with love. Go chew on drywall.”

He smiled through gritted teeth the whole time. Shrugged. Nodded. Made sarcastic comments. But he didn’t laugh.

Because none of it was funny.

Later, David escaped to the balcony, clutching his sketchbook like a shield. He wasn’t drawing. Just flipping through blank pages like one of them might eventually give him a damn answer.

Mari found him there. Quietly stepped outside and sat beside him.

“You look like someone tried to sell you a soulmates app.”

David didn’t look up. “I want to punch Tamaki in the teeth. With a brick.”

“Was it another chart?”

“Another chart. Another fucking disaster. And I quote—‘Wildcard: Power.’ What the actual hell.”

Mari bit back a laugh, but didn’t say anything for a second.

Then, gently: “You always look weird when people flirt with you.”

“I don’t look weird,” David said, immediately defensive. “I just—don’t—like it.”

“I didn’t say that’s bad.”

He went quiet.

Mari glanced at him. “Do you… even want that? Romance?”

David made a face like someone had asked if he wanted to eat a candle.

“God, no,” he muttered. “Like—everyone talks about it. Crushes, relationships, soulmates, whatever. But I just… I don’t fucking get it.”

Mari stayed quiet.

“I feel like I’m missing something. Like there’s some switch in my brain that never flipped. And every time someone flirts with me, I wanna crawl into the void and scream. Is that normal?”

“Depends,” Mari said gently. “Do you think it matters?”

David rubbed the back of his neck, still staring at the blank page in his lap. “I dunno. I’ve thought about it. Like maybe I’m just… not built for it. Or maybe it’s hormones. Or trauma.”

Mari laughed. “I don’t think that’s it.”

David grumbled something under his breath.

Mari just smiled. “Whatever it is… you don’t owe anyone an explanation. Or a performance.”

David went quiet again. Then, softer:

“…Thanks.”

They sat like that for a while. Just two friends. No heart-eyes. No tension.

And honestly?

That was enough.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed and the café had closed, Monika stood in front of the now-empty pastry case, arms crossed.

She stared at the blank wall.

Then, with a flick of her hand, the chart was erased from existence.

Not because David had asked.

But because sometimes, the most romantic thing you can give someone…

…is peace and a break.

Chapter Text

The portal that opened above the Hub’s plaza wasn’t unusual at first—just another glimmer of cyan and white rift-light, harmless and routine by now.

What was unusual, however, was the spiraling gust of wind and the shriek that followed:

“WHOOOOAAA—WAIT I’M LANDING WEIRD—!!”

A blur of red plummeted from the sky, followed by a very ungraceful thud against one of the couch cushions set out for sun lounging. Monika, sipping her tea on the second floor balcony, blinked.

David peeked his head out from the hallway, already exhausted.

The new arrival groaned dramatically, brushing off her curled pigtails. “I’m fine! I meant to land like that!”

David muttered, “We need to pad more of the Hub.”

“Or put a ‘fall hazard’ sign above the portal,” Monika added.

The pink-haired girl stood up, dusted herself off, and gave a loud, overly cheerful wave. “Kasane Teto! Reporting for… uh… wherever this is!”

“Multiversal Hub,” David said automatically. “You’re safe.”

“Phew! I thought I was gonna land in a volcano this time,” Teto giggled. “So uh, where’s Miku? Or Luka? Or like, anyone from our set?”

David’s brow furrowed. “Wait. You’re… you’re not a Vocaloid, are you?”

Monika stepped beside him, arms crossed. “Nope. Common misconception. She’s from UTAU—a different vocal synthesis platform. Technically fan-made, but beloved all the same.”

Teto stuck out her tongue. “But everyone thinks I’m a Vocaloid, so I just go with it sometimes. It’s easier than explaining.”

Monika nodded knowingly. “It’s the red hair and drill pigtails. Very ‘mascot-y.’”

David raised a brow. “So she’s like a cousin to the Vocaloids?”

“That’s a cute way to put it,” Teto said. “Let’s go with that!”

Aubrey ran up, eyes shining. “Wait—you can sing too?!”

“You bet!” Teto struck a confident pose. “But I also like bread. Like, a lot. You got bread here?”

Sunny, passing by with a plate of toast, silently handed her a slice.

“...I like it here already.”

Later, while helping Teto unpack in the guest wing, David leaned against the doorframe. “You really don’t mind people calling you a Vocaloid?”

Teto laughed, flopping onto the mattress. “Nah. I mean, I used to correct people all the time, but I realized—doesn’t really matter. I know who I am.”

“…That’s mature of you.”

She winked. “I am older than Miku, technically. Even if no one believes it.”

David blinked. “…Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. 31 officially, but don’t tell my fans that.”

He laughed softly. “Your secret’s safe here.”

Chapter Text

Night came quietly to the Multiversal Hub.

The usual laughter and chaos had dimmed into soft murmurs—muffled game sounds echoing from the lounge, occasional bursts of laughter in distant hallways, footsteps padding past dim corridors. The sky above flickered with simulated stars—pretty, artificial, trying its best to mimic something real.

Gojo sat alone on the edge of the training arena’s bleachers, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. His blindfold was pulled down around his neck, forgotten. A fake breeze passed through, rustling his white hair and the hem of his jacket.

He wasn’t smiling.

“You always stay out here late,” came a voice behind him.

Yuta Okkotsu stepped into view, holding two steaming cups of instant cocoa—the kind from a machine in the Hub’s kitchen that tried very hard to pretend it was homemade. He offered one silently.

Gojo took it without looking. “Thanks.”

They sat for a while in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, just heavy. Familiar.

Then Gojo broke it. “You ever feel like you’re not supposed to be happy?”

Yuta blinked. “What do you mean?”

Gojo exhaled a dry, brittle sound that might have once been a laugh. “Like the universe gave you too much power, too much tragedy, and went, ‘That’s enough. No joy for you. You don’t need it.’”

Yuta didn’t answer.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gojo added. “The kids are great. This place is… nice. Sometimes even good. But you ever walk into a room full of people who know you—really know you—and still feel like a goddamn stranger?”

He swirled the cocoa in his hands. It was cooling too fast. He didn’t seem to care.

“I think people forget I’m still human,” he said, voice softer now. “Behind the technique. Behind the strength. The stupid jokes. The blindfold. All of it. They look at me like I can’t break.”

Yuta looked down at his own cup. He understood more than he wanted to.

“You’re allowed to be tired,” he said after a moment.

Gojo shook his head, not in disagreement, but with something more resigned. “Not me. Not Satoru Gojo. The second I’m tired, people die.”

He finally looked up. The simulated stars blinked back at him like they didn’t know what to say either.

Yuta set his cocoa down. “I still remember when I met you,” he said quietly. “You were loud. Cocky. I thought you were full of yourself. Maybe you were. But under all of that... you were trying so hard not to fall apart in front of us.”

Gojo looked at him, surprised.

“I didn’t get it then. I think I do now.”

Gojo looked away again, biting back whatever that stirred. “Well,” he said, “don’t get it too well. You’ll end up like me.”

Yuta smiled faintly. “I’d rather end up with you. If that’s okay.”

Gojo let out a sharp breath through his nose. The sound of someone trying not to feel too much. “You’re too good for this world, kid.”

“Lucky for you, we’re not in the world.”

Gojo snorted. “God, that was corny.”

Yuta chuckled. “You liked it.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

They sat together for a while longer. Gojo didn’t say thank you. He didn’t have to.

Elsewhere in the Hub, Monika had paused during her nightly walk. She stood at a corridor window, arms loosely folded, gaze fixed on the distant figure of Gojo in the training field, barely visible under the flickering star simulation.

The edges of her expression softened.

“You’re not as alone as you think, Satoru,” she whispered.

The lights dimmed around her, casting her in a faint glow as she turned away. Her footsteps were quiet as she continued down the hall.

Outside, the stars blinked gently above the fake sky.

Not real.

But not nothing.

Chapter Text

In a corner of the Hub, away from the noise, Sunny sat under the artificial moon. Headphones over his ears, sketchbook on his lap, and a dim light flickering from the nearby bench lamp.

He was drawing—but only in black ink.

Darkness, over and over again. Shadows curling into each other. A boy with hollow eyes, staring back.

"Whatcha working on?" Aubrey's voice cut into the quiet like a pebble skipping on water.

Sunny quickly flipped the page.

"Just… practice," he muttered.

Aubrey blinked. “You okay? You haven’t really talked today.”

He didn’t answer. He just stared at the lamplight like it was a star too far to reach.

"...You ever feel like you’re not really here?" he said suddenly. "Like the world’s still turning, but you’re somewhere else? Somewhere… darker?"

Aubrey frowned. “Sunny, you’re not in the past anymore. You’re here, with us. With friends.”

He nodded, but it was empty.

Later, when everyone had left, Sunny sat alone again. He opened the sketchbook.

The page he flipped to wasn’t blank.

It was a drawing of him—Omori—sitting in the same spot, staring at the moon. But the shadows around him were alive. Clawing, whispering.

And above his head, in shaky ink:

"You can’t keep pretending you’re whole."

Sunny closed the book.

He knew.

But pretending was all he had some days.

And somewhere, far below the Hub’s surface, Omori opened his eyes.

He smiled.

And said nothing.

Because shadows don’t need to speak to be heard.

Chapter Text

Sayori always smiled.

Even when she was quiet.

Even when her eyes looked like cracked porcelain beneath a sunny glaze.

The Hub was bright today. Loud, too—Tails was racing Sonic, Sprout and Ginger were testing cookie batter, and the Host Club had roped half the cast into a beach-themed event… indoors.

Sayori laughed when Natsuki tripped into a punch bowl. She laughed when Gojo tried to flirt with Monika and got kicked. She even laughed when Power challenged Amy to an eating contest.

But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

David noticed.

Noticed how she laughed too long.

How her grip on her ribbon was a little too tight.

How she watched others with a strange mix of warmth and distance, like she was scared of getting too close again.

He didn’t say anything, of course. Just watched from the snack table, arms folded, a faint crease in his brow.

Another angsty day.

That made… what, five? Six?

At one point, Sayori sat down at the edge of the artificial garden, feet swinging over a pond that didn’t ripple. Her ribbon fluttered in a wind that wasn’t there.

"...Do you ever feel like the happy parts are fake?" she asked no one.

But David, just passing by, heard it.

He didn’t approach. He just… stood behind the trees. Listening.

Sayori continued, quiet:

"Like you’re not allowed to be sad anymore because everyone thinks you’re better?"

She plucked a flower, held it up to the light.

"...I’m scared that if I tell them the truth, they’ll think I’m broken again."

The flower fell.

David slowly walked away.

Not out of apathy.

But because he knew the exact feeling.

And he wasn’t sure which was worse—being too sad to smile, or smiling so much that no one noticed you were sad.

He marked another tally in his mental notebook:

"Hub Mood: Dramatic as hell."

He paused.

"...Is someone writing this stuff?"

He looked up at the sky suspiciously.

The sky, of course, said nothing.

Sayori stayed by the pond. Her ribbon lay in her lap now. Untied.

Chapter Text

There was something different about Haruhi today.

She was… normal. Perfectly average. Calm, composed, reasonable—as always. She helped Yuri organize the Hub’s growing library, offered Teto a tour of the Vocaloid-adjacent wing, and even participated in one of Sprout’s new card games. No dramatics. No emotional spikes. Nothing worthy of a violin score.

Which was odd.

Because lately, everyone had been a walking angst monologue.

David sat at his usual corner—coffee in hand, storage unit hoodie slightly wrinkled, a tired stare aimed in Haruhi’s direction.

"...She’s immune," he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

“Immune to what?” asked Sayori, who was balancing upside-down on the couch beside him.

David waved vaguely. “The wave of tragic storytelling. First Gojo, then Omori, then you... It’s like some melodramatic virus is spreading.”

Sayori blinked. “I’m not that melodramatic.”

David side-eyed her. “You monologued to a fake koi pond about being a burden two days ago.”

“Oh. Right.”

Back to Haruhi—who was now sipping tea with terrifying neutrality.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t sigh longingly. Didn’t even stare wistfully at a photo frame that didn’t exist.

David frowned.

Something was off.

Behind the invisible fourth wall, the writer scratched their head in frustration.

How do you angst Haruhi Fujioka?!

There were attempts:

A flashback to her mother’s passing… but it felt stale.

A confrontation with her own identity… but Haruhi just shrugged it off.

An emotional confession scene… but she blinked and asked if this was a play rehearsal.

The text groaned under the weight of failure.

David heard the groan.

He felt the edit attempts in the air—glitches in the dialogue, emotional beats that didn’t quite land, overwritten metaphors that shimmered and disappeared.

He looked up again.

“I knew it.”

Sayori followed his gaze. “Knew what?”

David squinted at the ceiling like he could see the keyboard clacking. “Someone’s trying to give Haruhi a trauma arc and it’s not working.”

Sayori gasped. “Wait… so they’re watching us again?”

“Always.”

Later, Haruhi sat beside him. Quiet. Munching a cookie from Sprout’s stash.

“You were staring a lot today,” she noted.

David didn’t look at her. “You didn’t angst.”

She tilted her head. “Should I have?”

“No. That’s what scares me.”

She blinked. “You’re weird.”

“I’m haunted.”

They shared the silence. Not angsty silence. Not dramatic silence.

Just… silence.

It was nice.

Chapter Text

It was late in the Hub.

The usual hum of overlapping universes had quieted, replaced by the ambient glow of the garden dome's soft lighting. And there, sitting alone near a patch of untouched soil, was Sprout.

A small, mint-leafed strawberry with vivid red limbs and a scarf draped neatly over his back, its white and pink stripes faintly catching the light. He wasn’t doing much. Just… staring.

Not baking. Not lecturing Cosmo. Not keeping the louder Toons in check.

Just quiet.

David happened upon him by accident. He’d been looking for some silence, away from karaoke echoes and overly dramatic reenactments of Host Club shenanigans. But something about Sprout’s stillness made him stop.

“Can’t sleep?” David asked gently.

Sprout didn’t look at him. “No.”

David blinked. Sprout wasn’t usually this... subdued. Reserved, maybe, especially with those he didn’t fully trust—but this felt different.

He walked over and sat beside him, eyes drifting to the patch of dirt.

“What’s this?”

“…Used to be a flower here,” Sprout said after a moment. “Memory flower. For him.”

David didn’t ask who. He didn’t have to.

The other him. The David that had been impaled. The one Sprout had tried to save.

“I kept it alive for months,” Sprout muttered, voice tight. “Even after he disappeared. But flowers don’t care about what you want. It died.”

David didn’t speak. He just listened.

“You all think I’m the strong one, don’t you?” Sprout huffed. “The practical one. The 'get-things-done' guy. But I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix him.”

“You tried,” David said quietly.

“Yeah. And he still vanished.”

Silence again. One of the leaves on Sprout’s head drooped slightly, his freckles shadowed by the garden lights. The warmth he usually reserved for Cosmo or Ginger—gone. No pushiness. No sarcasm. Just grief.

“I used to call him boss,” Sprout admitted. “Not because he was in charge. Just… because it made me feel like someone saw me. Like we were a team.”

David blinked slowly. That... stung a little.

He glanced down at the small, untouched patch of soil.

“Want help planting another one?”

Sprout looked at him for a long second. Studying. Judging.

“…You’d get your hands dirty for me?”

David shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

Sprout finally gave the smallest smile. “Tch. Fine. But you’re not touching the watering schedule. You’d kill it in two days.”

David rolled his eyes.

The night passed quietly, with the two of them gently patting down soil around a new seedling. A promise.

And for the first time in a while, Sprout didn’t feel like he had to carry it all alone.

Chapter Text

David wasn’t exactly keeping count.

But he was starting to notice it anyway—five people, five chapters of unraveling. And now, number six had shown up.

Metal Sonic.

He wasn’t where he usually was. Not in the edges of the Hub, not patrolling like a ghost. This time, David found him in one of the unused training arenas, surrounded by the wreckage of metal dummies, collapsed walls, and a console sparking from a recent overload.

No music. No flashy light show. Just quiet destruction and the faint hum of a core running hot.

David leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

“You okay?” he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Metal Sonic didn’t turn. He stood still, eyes glowing red beneath the dim light, fists slowly unclenching and clenching again. If he heard David, he didn’t show it.

Not at first.

But his head lowered slightly.

A pause.

Then he walked over to the shattered remains of a dummy—a vaguely Sonic-shaped one, now split clean in half.

David stepped closer.

“You can’t talk, I know,” he said quietly, “but you don’t need to.”

Metal Sonic crouched near the wreckage and picked up the dummy’s head. For a second, he just stared at it, those red eyes locked on the smiling plastic grin.

Then, with an almost casual flick of his wrist, he crushed it.

That… said enough.

David sat down near one of the collapsed walls. “They compare you to him, don’t they? Sonic. All the time.”

Metal Sonic twitched.

“Not because you're the same—but because they expect you to fail where he succeeded.”

The robot’s head turned slightly. Just a glance.

David let out a breath. “You're not Sonic. You were never meant to be. You’re you. But they made you to chase him. That’s gotta get tiring.”

Metal Sonic froze.

Then something strange happened.

He stood up—and for a flicker of a moment, his form shifted. Sleeker. Taller. His silhouette flared with black and red, and a mechanical voice buzzed to life.

Neo Mode.

Just for a second.

"I do not chase him," the voice said. Cold. Calculated.

"I surpass him."

And then the glow dimmed, and Metal Sonic reverted—silent again. Still.

But he walked away without destroying another thing.

David stayed sitting, looking at the ruined field.

“…Sure doesn’t feel like winning, huh?”

The lights in the room flickered and faded.

The silence was answer enough.

Chapter Text

It started with Denji dramatically flopping face-down onto the floor of the Hub’s common area.

"Life's meaningless," he muttered. "All I ever wanted was boobs and a decent breakfast."

David blinked from across the room, mid-conversation with Monika about interdimensional security protocols. He paused.

"Uh… is he okay?"

Monika shrugged. “Define ‘okay.’”

Denji groaned and rolled over onto his back. “Power ate all my toast. My last slice. And she drank the coffee. The last coffee!”

David tilted his head, watching the scene unfold like it was the climax of a deeply emotional anime.

“…Should we… check on him?”

Tamaki, seated nearby, offered, “This is his third existential crisis today. He’ll be fine.”

But David couldn’t shake it. His mind spiraled.

What if this is deeper than toast? What if this is a trauma response? A sign of deeper neglect? Is this reflective of his upbringing? Is it symptomatic of—

Denji, meanwhile, flailed dramatically. “And then Aki said I smell like dog. I tried showering! The shampoo was a lie!”

David walked over, crouching beside him.

“Hey… Denji,” he said carefully. “Do you… want to talk about your emotions?”

Denji blinked. “No. I want my toast back.”

David frowned. “…Are you projecting a fear of emotional vulnerability onto food-based frustrations?”

Denji sat up and stared at him. “Bro, I’m sad because I’m hungry.”

David nodded slowly. “Ah. Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.”

“…Huh?”

Behind them, Gojo and the twins were taking bets on whether David would psychoanalyze Power next.

Suddenly, Denji's eyes lit up. “WAIT. Did you say toast?”

David nodded.

“I have toast!” he said, pulling a wrapped sandwich from his satchel. “Emergency snacks. For guests.”

Denji stared. “Bro…”

He took the toast like it was holy bread from the heavens.

“I love you, man.”

David flushed. “Please don’t say that. I—uh—don’t do well with declarations of affection.”

Denji chomped the toast. “What? You weird or something?”

David sighed. “That’s… not inaccurate.”

Monika passed by, whispering, “Angst chapter number seven… barely qualified.”

“I’m TRYING,” David hissed back.

Denji, crumbs flying: “This is the best day of my life.”

David: “I need to go sit down.”

Chapter Text

Rex didn’t talk much when he first arrived at the Hub.

He played it cool—laid-back smirk, cocky strut, easy sarcasm. But David could tell. He was good at reading patterns, and Rex’s didn’t add up.

Rex trained a lot. Not to improve. Just to distract.

David found him in the training hall late—far past when the lights dimmed and most Toons and guests had gone to bed. The air stank of ozone and scorched rubber, charred from every thrown, detonated object Rex had set off.

He was sitting on the ground, breathing heavily. Arms resting on his knees. Staring at a dented throwing knife that hadn’t exploded like it was supposed to.

David lingered. "...Hey."

Rex didn’t look up. “You here to tell me I’m being loud?”

“No. Just... checking on you.”

A moment passed.

“You ever realize,” Rex said finally, voice quiet, “how useless you are to the people you care about?”

David hesitated. “I—”

“You try to do the right thing. You try to fight back, save them, hold it together—and you still fail. And then what? You're just another walking reminder of everything that went wrong.”

David said nothing.

Rex laughed bitterly. “People look at me and think I’m all ego. You know what ego really is? It’s armor. Because if I let someone past it… they die.”

The room was still. The lights flickered softly above them.

David sat down beside him, silent.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Rex muttered.

“I know.”

“I hate feeling like this.”

“I know.”

“…Do you ever stop blaming yourself?” Rex asked. “For not being enough?”

David took a slow breath. His hand twitched in his lap.

“…Not really.”

Rex leaned back against the wall, quiet again. “…Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence after that. Not peaceful. Not resolved. But understood.

That was enough.

Chapter Text

David stared up at the Hub’s ceiling from the quiet of the storage unit—his “room.”

It was one of those nights.

He hadn’t slept. Again.

He was on his back, staring at the slowly turning ceiling fan, wondering if it even worked, or if it just creaked for the ambiance. His fingers were clenched tight over a half-finished journal entry. He couldn’t even remember what he was trying to write. It didn’t matter.

His heart wasn’t racing. His breathing wasn’t uneven. He wasn’t panicking.

But everything hurt anyway.

He thought about all the people in the Hub. All the guests. All the friends. All the trauma dumped into the place like it was some sort of emotional landfill—and yet somehow, they always managed to support each other. Cry together. Heal.

Except David didn’t cry.

He used to. A long time ago. He wasn’t sure when the switch flipped—when grief stopped leaking out and started calcifying inside instead.

He heard laughter echo from a hallway outside. Sprout, probably with Cosmo. Or Gojo bothering someone. Or Haruhi being too energetic for 3 a.m.

The world kept moving. And he felt like he was just there to keep it spinning.

David closed his eyes, tugging his jacket closer around himself even though the room wasn’t cold.

He didn’t need to be the strongest, or the smartest, or the funniest.

He just wanted to stop feeling like a shadow pretending to be real.

In the quiet, his breath hitched. Just once. Not a sob. Not even close.

Then silence again.

The storage unit stayed dark.

And David stayed awake.

Chapter Text

David was gasping.

His knees buckled as the pain shot through his chest. His fingers trembled as they clutched at the blood beginning to stain his shirt, dark and warm between his ribs. The air around him twisted. People shouted. Footsteps thundered. He couldn’t make out any words.

He stumbled backward. His back hit a pillar. He slid down to the floor.

The gunshot echoed again in his head.

And then—

A soft voice. A presence.

“Don’t worry,” said a figure no one else could see, crouched in front of him.

The Writer.

David’s eyes widened.

“You’re not actually dying,” the Writer said nonchalantly, brushing imaginary lint off their shoulder. “This is just a Hamilton reference. You know, Burr. Hamilton. Ten paces. Dramatic pause. Angst buildup.”

David blinked. “What?”

“You were the tenth,” the Writer added. “Of the ten angsty spotlight chapters. You should be honored.”

“WHAT?!”

The pain vanished. Just like that. The blood faded like watercolor. The wound sealed. David looked down in disbelief as he sat, perfectly fine, on the Hub’s floor.

From a few feet away, Sprout stood frozen mid-sprint, eyes wide in panic. Gojo had his hands ready with cursed energy. Sayori had already started crying. Natsuki was yelling at someone. Chaos.

David groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re telling me you shot me... for a musical theater reference?!”

The Writer shrugged, smug. “It was thematically appropriate. C’mon—‘I’m sorry, Burr, I gotta go…’ You know the line.”

David stood up with a twitch in his eye. “I hate this place.”

“Love you too,” the Writer said, and vanished in a blink.

And thus, the Hub continued.

Everyone else still thought David nearly died.

David would be dealing with that emotional whiplash for the rest of the week.

At least the countdown's over. Right?

Chapter Text

The day had started normally.

David was sitting at the Hub café with a croissant and his existential dread when Hero approached with a shaken look and a phone in hand.

“Uh… hey, David?” he asked, awkwardly. “Did you know about this?”

David leaned in. The phone screen showed a familiar, smug face—long black hair, suggestive eyes, and a strategically unzipped shirt.

@SuguruSins
"Morning blessings~"
[18+ Content Warning Below]

David spat his drink.

“No,” he coughed, “No, no I did not know Geto had an OnlyFans—why are you showing me this?!”

But it was too late.

Because Gojo had heard.

He popped up like a jumpscare, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. “I’m sorry—Geto has a what?”

Hero shrank back. “I—I just found out—someone posted it in the group chat—”

“Which chat?!”

“The–the one Denji made. For memes. It’s not important—”

Gojo immediately yanked the phone from Hero’s hands, tapped furiously, and then froze.

Silence.

His lips parted.

His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose.

“...He’s been doing this for three months? And I’m just now finding out?!”

David, unsure whether to laugh or run, just sipped his coffee.

“Wait,” Monika chimed in from a booth, tilting her head. “Didn’t you say you two were ex-besties with no secrets?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “I THOUGHT WE DIDN’T HAVE SECRETS!”

He pulled out his own phone, fingers blurring over the screen.

“Wait. What are you—?”

“Subscribing.” Gojo snapped. “If my ex-boyfriend’s gonna be scandalous and hot online, I deserve exclusive content.”

David blinked. “Your ex what—”

“I MEANT EX-BEST FRIEND!” Gojo shouted. “I—I was flustered—shut up—”

Sprout, passing by with a tray, muttered, “The way you said that makes it worse.”

“I know what I said!”

Geto, walking into the room without a care in the world, simply smirked. “Oh, you found it?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

“I figured you'd subscribe either way.”

Gojo stared at him. “You know what? Fair.”

David set his croissant down and muttered to himself, “I miss the angst arc.”

Somewhere out there, ten angst chapters rolled in their graves.

Chapter Text

It was a typical day in the Multiversal Hub. Which meant unpredictable noise, chaos, and occasional existential dread—just the usual.

David sat curled on one of the bean bags in the common room, sipping on coffee that tasted like burnt paper. Monika sat beside him, arms folded behind her head.

“So,” she asked casually, “has anyone exploded yet?”

“Not today,” David replied. “Though Denji almost body-slammed Power into the smoothie machine.”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “So we’re off to a good start.”

At the arcade, Denji shouted, “COME ON! I HIT THAT HARDER THAN LAST TIME!” while Power screamed back, “NO YOU DID NOT, I AM CLEARLY THE STRONGEST!”

Makima stood by quietly, watching them with a predator’s smile. Asa leaned into Yoru, murmuring, “How do they have this much energy?”

“They’re fueled by sheer stupidity,” Yoru replied dryly.

Gojo suddenly burst into the room holding a tablet. “GETO!”

Geto looked up from his seat on the couch. “Hm?”

“You had an OnlyFans and didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

“I CARE ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU DO!” Gojo shrieked. “I SUBSCRIBED IMMEDIATELY!”

David choked on his coffee. Monika blinked. “You okay?”

“I just—what?!”

In the corner, the Literature Club had set up shop. Sayori was doodling in a journal, Natsuki flipped through manga, and Yuri was quietly reading a book to Dazai, who sighed dramatically with every poetic line.

“It’s like I’m floating into the void of emotion,” Dazai moaned.

Yuri blinked. “That’s… not exactly the intended tone, but okay.”

Nearby, Nikolai was floating upside down, trying to teach Kunikida how to juggle flaming clubs.

“No,” Kunikida muttered, “I draw the line at fire.”

Meanwhile, Hero, Cosmo, and Ginger were in the kitchen, mixing ingredients for cookies while Sprout hovered behind them.

“Don’t put too much sugar!” Sprout warned, frowning.

“It’s literally a cookie, Sprout,” Ginger said.

“I’m just saying, if Cosmo eats too many he’s going to start bouncing off the walls again.”

Looey tried to pour flour into a bowl but sneezed and sent a cloud of it everywhere.

“Bless you,” Hero said, coughing.

In the music room, Mari, Sunny, Kel, Aubrey, and Basil were jamming with Miku and Teto.

“That’s not a real chord,” Kel said.

“It is now,” Miku replied cheerfully.

Teto nodded. “We call it the ‘oopsie minor.’”

Back in the training room, things were… loud.

“STOP HOLDING BACK, DEKU!” Bakugo yelled.

“I’m not!” Izuku protested.

“THEN GO PLUS ULTRA, DAMN IT!”

Zenitsu was on the floor sobbing. “I DON’T WANNA FIGHT HIM, HE LOOKS SCARY!”

Mark grinned while blocking a punch from Odysseus. “You guys do this every day?”

Rex wheezed, “You get used to it.”

Shigaraki, sitting with arms crossed, muttered, “I could dust half of them if I wanted.”

In the café, Toriel served pie to Frisk, Papyrus, and Sans.

“This is amazing,” Frisk said.

“IT’S EVEN BETTER THAN SPAGHETTI,” Papyrus declared.

Sans sipped his drink. “heya, kid,” he said to David, who nodded vaguely in return.

Near the ceiling, Spider-Man hung upside down chatting with Astro, Vee, Shelly, and Yatta.

“So like,” Peter asked, “do you guys do multiverse saving or more… comedic chaos?”

“Bit of both,” Shelly said. “Mostly chaos.”

Ena sat on the armrest of a couch, peeling a banana the wrong way and staring unblinking into space. Siffrin stood nearby, staring into a microwave like it held all the universe’s secrets.

At the big round table in the center, Veronica, J.D., Haruhi, Kyoya, Tamaki, and the Hitachiin twins were mid-game of Uno.

“Reverse!” said Veronica.

“Draw four!” said J.D.

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND THIS GAME!” Tamaki wailed.

“You’ve played it six times,” Haruhi muttered.

Honey served everyone cake while Mori remained silent and observant.

Greek Hermes argued with Epic Hermes over footwear.

“Socks and sandals are a sin!” Epic Hermes insisted.

“They’re comfortable,” Greek Hermes replied.

David sighed, leaning back.

“Another normal day?” Monika asked.

“I think we’re due for a musical number next,” David mumbled.

“You’re probably right.”

And so the day continued, as wild and unpredictable as ever—but somehow, still home.

Chapter Text

It started with Shigaraki standing in the middle of the lounge, his gaze vacant and his index finger twitching.

“…Wait a second,” he muttered, glancing around at the chaos that was now just… peaceful.

Denji was asleep upside-down on a beanbag. Sonic and Papyrus were playing an aggressively wholesome game of Uno.

Shigaraki blinked.

“Why am I—playing board games with Sans?!”

He slapped a hand to his own face, groaning.

“I’m a villain. A Symbol of Fear! I should be leveling cities, not sitting around making fucking friendship bracelets with blue skeletons!”

And then—he saw him.

Gojo, sipping a boba tea, lounging backwards on a couch like he owned the place.

Shigaraki’s hand twitched again. “Oh. Perfect.”

He launched forward without warning, hand outstretched.

“DECAY—!”

But he didn’t reach him.

His fingers stopped just inches from Gojo’s neck. Frozen mid-motion.

Not by force.

By distance.

Shigaraki’s eyes widened. “What the hell—?”

Gojo didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

He raised his boba. Took a sip. “Infinity, babe.”

Shigaraki’s hand hovered in front of him—close, but not touching.

Like trying to press two magnets together the wrong way.

“Go on,” Gojo said sweetly. “I’ll wait.”

Shigaraki snarled, trying again. No use.

Then Gojo stood.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

The world shattered.

The lounge was swallowed whole in a brilliant, blinding bloom of space and light. Shigaraki’s pupils dilated, breath hitching as his mind was hit with every sensation, every sound, every concept all at once.

Time slowed. The air split.

Everyone nearby—Power, Sans, Sonic, Papyrus—froze in place, their brains short-circuiting under the infinite flow of everything.

David walked in.

Holding a bag of chips and a can of tea.

And immediately stopped.

“…Are you fucking kidding me?”

He stared at the swirling cosmic nightmare where the lounge used to be. Characters frozen in place. The void of knowledge ripping through the air like some dramatic dissertation from hell.

“Oh my god,” David muttered. “Gojo.”

He just stood there and waited. Slowly opened his tea. Took a sip.

The Domain collapsed with a snap, everything snapping back into place as half a dozen characters crumpled like marionettes with cut strings.

Gojo brushed nonexistent dust off his shoulder.

David walked up, calm but visibly twitching. “Do you wanna explain why half the cast is in a philosophical coma?!”

“He attacked me!” Gojo cried. “You weren’t there! He yelled Decay! That’s trauma-inducing!”

“You have Infinity! You could’ve rolled away! Or teleported! Or literally walked in a different direction!”

“But the principle, Dave!”

“You used a DOMAIN EXPANSION on Power, Sonic, and Papyrus!”

“I panicked!” Gojo said defensively. “I’ve been emotionally compromised all week!”

“You infinite voided Sans.”

“He’ll bounce back.”

At that moment, the lounge doors slammed open.

“GOJO’S DEAD?!” a voice shrieked.

A green blur launched across the room.

BOOM.

Izuku Midoriya crashed into the scene with full One For All rage, wind exploding around him.

“WHERE’S SHIGARAKI?! I GOT THE ALERT—WHO KILLED HIM?!”

David held up a hand. “Midoriya, no, he’s—”

Too late.

Shigaraki—only just recovering from mental obliteration—looked up and locked eyes with Deku.

“Oh shit.”

SMASH.

Izuku decked him clean in the jaw, sending him flying through the back wall of the lounge.

“THAT WAS FOR TRYING TO KILL GOJO, YOU ROTTEN HAND BASTARD!!”

Shigaraki’s voice echoed from under a pile of broken furniture. “I literally didn’t even touch him!!”

“TRY HARDER NEXT TIME!” Izuku yelled, still glowing with green lightning.

Gojo peeked over David’s shoulder. “Wow. This is like therapy but externalized.”

David slapped him in the chest. “You do not get to enjoy this.”

Monika showed up with a clipboard, took one look at the scene—furniture smoking, Shigaraki twitching in drywall, Denji still asleep—and sighed.

“I’m writing everyone up,” she muttered.

Later…

The artificial sun dipped low in the Hub sky, golden light brushing the halls.

Mari sat near the fountain, sketchbook open. She looked up as David approached, still dusted with drywall and fury.

“Hey,” she greeted softly.

“Hey,” David replied, sitting down beside her.

“You alright?”

David exhaled. “Depends. On whether Shigaraki files a legal complaint.”

Mari laughed gently. “Another day in paradise?”

“Paradise is a strong word.”

She smiled, tracing a line in her sketchbook.

“I was just thinking…” she murmured. “If things were different—if we weren’t from broken timelines—maybe we’d be different, too.”

David blinked. “Different how?”

Mari’s cheeks flushed. “Nothing! Dumb thought.”

He watched her for a moment. Then said, softer: “You’re not dumb.”

She looked away.

“…But,” David continued, “I’m not wired like that. Not for romance. Not for all that… stuff. Never really clicked for me.”

Mari nodded slowly. “Yeah. I figured.”

“I still want to be here,” David said. “With you. Just… not in the way some people expect.”

Mari’s eyes misted. “That’s okay.”

They sat in silence.

Somewhere far off, another alarm blared.

David groaned. “If that’s Gojo again, I’m throwing him into the fountain.”

He stood.

Mari smiled. “I’ll sketch it when you do.”

Chapter Text

It was a peaceful morning at the Multiversal Hub.

Peaceful, meaning: Knuckles and Denji were screaming at each other over which protein powder was better, a pie had spontaneously exploded in the lounge due to questionable Toon baking experiments, and Tails somehow got launched through the roof by a misfired “upgraded” Roomba.

David watched it all from the front desk with a coffee in one hand and his head in the other.

“…This is fine,” he muttered. “Totally manageable. Normal day.”

Monika strolled past with a clipboard and a concerning number of crossed-out names. “We’re down to two functional vacuum bots, three exploded vending machines, and one complaint about ‘suspicious mochi.’ Also, Sans is threatening to unionize.”

David blinked slowly. “I’m not paid enough for this.”

“You’re not paid at all,” Monika chirped before walking off.

Later, David sat in the meeting room, eyes dark from lack of sleep. He stared up at the staff list on the glowing Hub screen.

Monika: Admin.

David: Literally Everything Else.

Metal Sonic: ???

Gojo: ??? (Dangerously Unsupervised)

“...This is getting ridiculous,” David muttered. “I’m the event planner, janitor, tech support, therapist, and occasional hostage negotiator.”

He stared at the screen.

“…We need security.”

Meanwhile, in the courtyard…

Gojo Satoru leaned on the fence, lazily tossing a marshmallow into his mouth while watching Shigaraki trying (and failing) to ride a scooter.

“D’you ever think we’re wasting our potential here?” Shigaraki asked, tipping over dramatically.

“Nope,” Gojo said through a grin. “I get snacks and no one dies. It’s a win-win.”

David approached, eyes squinting in the sun. “Gojo.”

The sorcerer looked over, eyebrow raised. “What’s up, Boss?”

“You’re officially promoted.”

“To what?”

“Head of Security.”

Gojo paused. “Like… a bouncer?”

“Yes.”

“I accept.”

David blinked. “No questions?”

Gojo activated his Infinity. “I am the strongest.”

“…Yeah, okay.”

By the next day:

New security booth installed (Gojo bedazzled it).

Staff jackets printed (Gojo wears his open).

Rules posted (Gojo ignores most of them).

The Hub began to run just a little smoother. Gojo vaporized any chaos over a certain level, Metal Sonic patrolled silently (still not officially employed), and David—David finally had time to breathe.

He slumped into a beanbag next to Mari and sighed.

“Guess I’m not the only one holding it together anymore.”

Mari smiled gently. “You never were. But now you’re finally noticing.”

In the background, Gojo chased Denji with a clipboard and shouted, “PANTS. ARE. MANDATORY.”

David sipped his tea. “Close enough.”

Chapter Text

David woke up to the smell of something burning.

His eyes opened slowly, groggy and confused. Familiar boxes loomed overhead — yep, still in his barely-renovated storage unit turned “home.” But something was off. Very off.

There were... voices.

Loud ones.

And snoring.

“…Huh?”

He sat up, only to spot a very unconscious Denji curled up on his floor, hugging a pillow with “PROPERTY OF HERO” written on it.

“Why is Denji here?” David whispered in horror.

“Because I invited everyone,” Gojo said from his makeshift futon in the corner. He waved. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

David blinked.

“Everyone?”

Roll Call:

Gojo, of course, organizer of chaos. Wearing mismatched pajamas and a sleep mask pushed up on his head.

Rex Splode, sitting on a stack of canned beans, eating cold ravioli straight from the tin.

Tanjiro, already doing morning stretches.

Zenitsu, crying in his sleep about girls again.

Denji, still asleep but now drooling on David’s rug.

Shoto, Bakugo, and Deku, arguing about proper sleeping arrangements.

Yuji, Megumi (with Sukuna making snide comments in his head), and Yuta, in a corner with a deck of UNO cards they haven’t touched.

Tamaki Suoh, who brought monogrammed silk blankets for everyone.

Sans, who somehow got a sleeping bag.

Atsushi and Dazai, both reading manga. Dazai’s reading upside-down and bothering everyone on purpose.

Spider-Man, hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Metal Sonic, who definitely doesn’t sleep but is just standing there in the corner like an ominous statue.

David stared.

“I live here,” he said flatly.

“Yeah, and now so do we,” Rex said, tossing a sock at him. “Sleepover rules.”

“There are no rules,” Gojo corrected, putting a slice of pizza in the toaster. “Except one: whoever clogs the toilet has to clean it. Looking at you, Sans.”

“heh. no promises.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why.”

“Team bonding,” Tanjiro said cheerfully. “Also, I think Natsuki kicked us out of the lounge. Said we were ‘doing boy things too loudly.’”

“That tracks,” David muttered.

Later…

Games were played. Curses were thrown (in both senses of the word). Someone tried to initiate a pillow fight (spoiler: it was Gojo, and he lost immediately to Bakugo launching a fireball into a cushion). Shoto froze the mini-fridge. Sans made puns until Rex nearly exploded.

Meanwhile, David sat on a crate, sipping lukewarm tea, sleep-deprived and socially overloaded.

“So, David,” Gojo plopped down next to him, “having fun?”

“I have a headache. Someone stole my blanket. And I think Denji ate my soap.”

“Bonding!” Gojo shouted, raising a peace sign.

David groaned and slumped against the wall, muttering, “I am never doing this again.”

(He will. He always does.)

Chapter Text

While David suffered under the weight of 12 boys arguing over who gets top bunk in his glorified broom closet—

The girls were doing their own thing.

Location: Monika’s lounge

The room was full of pillows, string lights, snacks, and voices layered over one another in a giant, comfy mess.

"Okay!" Monika clapped her hands, already in pink satin pajamas and armed with a clipboard. "Everyone here? Sayori, stop burrowing into the beanbag."

Sayori popped her head out, laughing. "I’m a mole now! Mole privilege!"

Natsuki rolled her eyes. "That’s not a thing."

"Is now," Sayori chirped.

Yuri, sitting in the corner with tea and a mystery novel, looked up. "Should we... maybe quiet down?"

"No," Power declared, flinging popcorn into the air like it was a ritual. "LOUDER."

Cast of Sleepover Survivors:

Monika, in charge (as always).

Sayori. No Notes.

Yuri, reluctant participant.

Natsuki, here for snacks and vibes.

Makima, too elegant and too dangerous.

Power, feral. No notes.

Asa and Yoru, fighting over the body because Asa wanted sleep and Yoru wanted eyeliner.

Mari, brushing Aubrey’s hair with the gentleness of a Studio Ghibli scene.

Aubrey, melting.

Kel, who barged in like “Mari’s my sister pass, right?”

Cosmo, who insisted “I’m only here because Ginger is!” but was happily decorating a cupcake.

Ginger, quietly frosting cookies.

Vee, who had glitter on her face within five minutes.

Miku, humming while applying avocado face masks with surgical precision.

Teto, belting lullabies from the top of the couch.

Ena, glitching through three different pajamas.

Toriel, somehow made pie and tucked three people in already.

Veronica, who pulled out black nail polish and gave Sayori a makeover.

Haruhi Fujioka, sipping tea and trying not to scream at the state of the room.

Shelly, who was NOT on the invite list but invited herself and nobody stopped her.

It devolved fast.

“TRUTH OR DARE!” Power shouted, standing on a beanbag like a war general.

“I didn’t say we were playing—” Monika started, but was too late.

“Kel!” Power pointed.

Kel blinked. “Wait, what—?”

“Truth or dare.”

“...Dare?”

“I dare you to do the worm across the floor while eating three marshmallows.”

Everyone stared.

Kel, already getting into position: “Bet.”

Later...

"Who has a crush?" Sayori asked during round six of Truth or Dare.

Yuri flushed and looked at her tea.

Mari paused. "I think I’ll skip," she mumbled, eyes darting toward the ceiling.

"Suspicious!" Natsuki said, waggling her eyebrows.

Makima braided Power’s hair in silence. Somehow, it was intimidating.

In the blanket fort:

Cosmo peeked out. “Hey, is it weird I’m here?”

Ginger, adding pink sparkles to her cupcake: “You’re fine. You’re baking. That makes you an honorary girl for the night.”

Cosmo beamed. “Sweet.”

“Literally,” Vee said, biting into a cookie.

Later, during the horror movie segment:

Sayori screamed and threw a pillow.

Ena didn’t move at all.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Yuri whispered, watching the monster eat a guy’s face.

Mari and Aubrey huddled together under a blanket.

"This is like... every sleepover dream I had as a kid," Mari said softly.

“Yeah,” Aubrey agreed, “only with less sleep and more screaming.”

Back to Monika, around 2AM:

She looked around the room. Yuri was fast asleep, Sayori curled up beside her. Vee and Ginger were still whispering. Cosmo was snoring. Power and Makima were arm-wrestling.

“...We should do this again,” she whispered to no one.

“Only if David doesn’t find out,” Veronica muttered from across the room.

Monika grinned. “Oh, he’s probably having the worst night of his life.”

And somewhere, in a storage unit filled with snoring boys and empty chip bags...

He was.

Chapter Text

It was a normal day at the Multiversal Hub. Emphasis on was.

David stepped into the lounge with his usual groggy morning shuffle, clutching a half-toasted Pop-Tart like it was his last lifeline.

“Morning,” he mumbled, dodging a thrown yo-yo (Power), a hovering book (Yuri), and a suspiciously glowing donut (Teto).

He paused mid-step.

Mari stood in the middle of the room.

Gray skin. Glowing, vacant eyes.

Torn sleeves. A lopsided smile.

And the faint scent of death and strawberry shampoo.

"...Mari?"

She turned her head slowly.

“...I’m a zombie now,” she said sweetly. “Good morning, David.”

David dropped his Pop-Tart.

“EXCUSE ME, WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Monika pinched the bridge of her nose while rapidly typing on her floating admin screen. “According to the log, someone played Zombie by Stephanie Mabey over the intercom at 3AM... and it triggered a localized magical phenomenon.”

“Localized to just Mari?”

“She was the only one sleepwalking near the cursed karaoke room,” Geto added helpfully from the couch, sipping tea.

“Why do we even have a cursed karaoke room!?”

“Power wanted one.”

Mari wandered aimlessly through the Hub, occasionally humming “...I’m in your head, in your head, in your head like a melody…” under her breath.

Sayori followed her around with a camera. “This is so cool!! You look like a real horror movie star!”

“I feel fine, though,” Mari said. “Just a little... foggy.” She tilted her head. “And maybe a little... hungry?”

David blanched. “Hungry for...?”

“I dunno.” She stared at him a bit too long. “You look... crunchy.”

David sprinted behind Gojo.

“Protect me.”

Gojo laughed. “Aw, she just wants a bite—”

He stopped when Mari teleported behind him.

“HOW DID SHE LEARN ULTRA INSTINCT?!”

“She didn’t. That’s just the song magic,” Yuta explained, filming the chaos with Dazai. “This is going in the weekly compilation.”

Later, the team gathered in the Hub atrium, forming a loose circle while Zombie Mari sat calmly in the center, humming and knitting with literal bone needles.

“This isn’t a big deal,” Mari said, her voice still sickeningly sweet. “I’m technically undead, not evil.”

Kel raised his hand. “But you tried to eat David.”

“I did not! I was going to nibble.”

Cosmo, nervously hiding behind Ginger: “What if she, like... starts a zombie outbreak?”

“Already fixed that,” Monika chimed in, holding a giant red “UNDO” button. “One push and she goes back to normal. But we gotta get it on camera for the archives first.”

David sighed, hand over his face. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,” Monika winked. “This’ll go great in the Hub’s Greatest Hits reel.”

Bonus:

Mari, now surrounded by several Hub members, performs a hauntingly soft rendition of Zombie by Stephanie Mabey on a dimly lit stage.

Sayori sobs, “It’s so beautiful.”

Gojo holds up a lighter.

Power shouts, “EAT DAVID!!”

David: “WHY ARE YOU ENCOURAGING THIS?!”

Monika hits the button.

Poof. Normal Mari.

She blinked, confused, holding her half-knit bone scarf. “...Did I miss something?”

Everyone slowly applauded.

David groaned and walked off. “...I need a nap. Or therapy. Or both.”

Chapter Text

It started, as most terrible things in the Hub do, with an announcement. Not over speakers. Not via a calm staff memo.

No. It started with Hermes—the Epic: The Musical version of Hermes—flying into the central lounge with jazz hands and a fog machine.

“HELLOOOO MULTIVERSAL HUB!” he yelled, tossing glitter into the air. “We’re putting on Hamilton! Mandatory participation!”

David blinked, still halfway through a cereal bar. “What.”

“You heard me. Theater. Now.”

Five minutes later

David was in a powder-blue coat. Basil was trying to tie a cravat around his neck with mild panic. Kel was absolutely thrilled with his Lafayette wig. Hero looked dead inside. Sunny had been stuffed into a leather vest and was now glaring at everyone in complete silence.

“Why am I Burr?” Hero asked again.

“Because you give off repressed jealousy vibes,” Monika offered helpfully, flipping through the script.

David rubbed his face. “Isn’t this, like… historical? Intense? I’m a 15-year-old who works three jobs.”

“You also have main character energy,” Hermes pointed out. “That makes you Alexander Hamilton.”

“…Great.”

[Spotlights up]

[Theatrical fog rolls in (courtesy of Metal Sonic and a fog machine he built from scrap)]

Suddenly, music played.

A single note.

Then a deep collective breath…

And then:

Hero (as Burr):

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman,

Dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean

By providence, impoverished, in squalor,

Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?”

Basil (as Laurens):

“The ten-dollar founding father without a father,

Got a lot farther by working a lot harder,

By being a lot smarter, by being a self-starter…

By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter…”

Kel (as Lafayette, with a questionable French accent):

“And every day while slaves were bein’ slaughtered and carted away,

He struggled and kept his guard up…”

Sunny (as Hercules Mulligan):

“Inside, he was longing for somethin’ to be a part of…

The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter…”

Basil (as Laurens):

“Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned…”

Hero (as Burr):

“Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain…”

Then all together:

All (with increasing volume and chaos):

“THE WORLD’S GONNA KNOW YOUR NAME…

WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAN?!”

David, who had been clutching the mic like it was a life raft, suddenly took a shaky breath.

David (resigned to fate):

“Alexander Hamilton…”

Gojo, who had somehow gotten his hands on popcorn mid-scene, leaned over to Yuta and whispered, “He’s surprisingly good at this.”

“He’s terrified,” Yuta replied.

“Exactly.”

[Cue "Aaron Burr, Sir"]

Hero, begrudgingly stepping into the next scene, adjusted his coat and turned toward David.

“Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?” David asked.

Hero sighed. “That depends, who's asking?”

“Uhh… I’m Alexander Hamilton. I’m at your service, sir.”

“I have been looking for you.”

David blinked. “I’m getting nervous.”

Hero rubbed his temples. “Sir—”

Kel: “HE MEANS YOU NO HARM!”

Cue the chaotic back-and-forth between Kel (rapping way too fast), Sunny (glowering dramatically), Basil (smiling through panic), and David (who was now just trying not to hyperventilate).

Offstage:

Cosmo (holding a fake musket): “Can I be in the ensemble?”

Ginger: “You're already in the ensemble.”

Power: “If I don’t get a solo soon, I’m breaking the stage.”

Gojo (reading ahead): “Wait, I’m Washington?! YESSS.”

Monika: “You better rap well.”

Gojo: “I don’t rap, I obliterate.”

After two songs, everyone collapsed backstage. The main lounge was in ruins. Costumes were askew. Glitter was everywhere.

David laid on the floor, arm over his eyes. “We’re going to do the entire musical, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Hermes said with far too much joy. “This was just the beginning.”

Mari helped David up with a smile. “You’re doing amazing.”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Hero mumbled.

Monika grinned. “Next up? My Shot. And we’re adding Papyrus to the ensemble.”

David groaned into the floor.

Chapter Text

Break time backstage at the Multiversal Hub's makeshift theatre was... chaotic, to say the least.

David sat on the floor cross-legged, sipping lukewarm tea from a mug that read “World’s Okayest Alexander.” His ponytail wig was already crooked. “I think my soul left my body halfway through that opening number,” he mumbled.

Kel, still in his Lafayette getup, was bouncing off the walls. “Did you see me?! I nailed the French!”

Sunny (Mulligan) blinked. “You tripped on the fog machine.”

“Style points,” Kel insisted.

Hero, flipping through the script, muttered his next few lines to himself as he stretched his sore back. Basil sat next to him, hugging his knees and trying to remember his rap part. “I don’t think I was born to rap,” he whispered.

“You’re doing great,” Hero reassured him.

Sayori offered snacks to everyone. “Granola bar, anyone?”

Mari, fully committed to her Eliza role, nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please. If I pass out on stage, it’ll be from hunger, not emotion.”

Monika, adjusting her Angelica costume with surprising ease, was also reviewing the harmonies. Metal Sonic hovered nearby with a clipboard, nodding approvingly. Yes, he still wasn’t officially on staff, but no one was stopping him.

“Where’s Hermes?” David asked, glancing around.

As if summoned, Hermes popped up from behind the curtain. “Break’s over! Time for My Shot!”

“Already?”

“You thought this was fun and games?” Hermes beamed. “Nope! This is Epic: The Musical x Hamilton Edition. Let’s go!”

"My Shot"

David stepped back onto the stage, dramatically brushing the glitter off his jacket. He took a breath.

David (as Hamilton): “I am not throwin' away my shot! I am not throwin' away my shot! Hey yo, I'm just like my country, I'm young, scrappy and hungry, And I'm not throwin' away my shot!”

He caught a glance at Hero off-stage giving him a thumbs up. That helped.

Kel (Lafayette): “Oui oui, mon ami, je m'appelle Lafayette, The Lancelot of the revolutionary set!”

Sunny (Mulligan), low and smooth: “Yo, I'm a tailor’s apprentice, And I got y’all knuckleheads in loco parentis!”

Basil (Laurens): “Even though we got trouble, I’ll be there on the double!”

All Four Together: “RISE UP! RISE UP!”

Their harmonies were... chaotic, but full of heart.

"The Story of Tonight"

A dim spotlight, and a quieter moment.

David (softly): “I may not live to see our glory…”

Basil, Kel, Sunny joined in, voices overlapping gently.

“But I will gladly join the fight…”

“...And when our children tell our story…”

“They’ll tell the story of tonight.”

Even Cosmo and Ginger, watching from the wings, had their eyes glued to the performance.

Gojo dabbed his eyes. “Damn. That’s poetic.”

"The Schuyler Sisters"

Then, it was the girls' turn to shine.

Monika strutted onto the stage with graceful power. “Angelica!”

Mari followed with an elegant twirl. “Eliza!”

Sayori skipped in, waving. “...And Peggy!”

Monika (singing): “I’ve been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine— So men say that I’m intense or I’m insane!”

Mari (cheerful but grounded): “Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now…”

Sayori: “History is happening in Manhattan and we just happen to be in the greatest city in the world!”

Even Ginger, not entirely sure what was happening, clapped along. Cosmo whispered, “Can we do Mamma Mia next?”

“Shhh,” Ginger said. “Let them sparkle.”

David peeked from the wings, watching Mari onstage. For a second, she looked at him, smiled, and turned back to the performance.

He quickly looked away. “It’s just the lighting. That’s all.”

After the last chorus, everyone collapsed backstage once more.

Kel: “This is the best day of my life.”

Sunny: “My thighs hurt.”

David groaned. “Who said musical theatre was safe?”

Hermes grinned, unfazed. “Next time: You’ll Be Back! Prepare your British accents!”

Dazai: “Oh, finally.”

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub was still buzzing with excitement from the Hamilton reenactment, everyone feeling the adrenaline of acting, singing, and watching their friends butcher French accents and over-dramatize tragic duels.

David stood center stage, still holding a script labeled “The Schuyler Sisters” with crossed-out lines and doodles of angry stick figures. He had finally recovered from singing “My Shot” seventeen times due to Kel missing his cue each time.

Then, the mood shifted.

“WAIT, WAIT—STOP THE MUSIC!” Hermes (the Epic: The Musical one) screeched, bursting back onto the stage with a very distressed look. In his hand was a piece of paper. Not his usual lyrical kind. A legal kind.

Mari, still in her Eliza wig, blinked. “Hermes? What’s going on?”

“This—” Hermes dramatically slapped the paper onto the nearest prop table, nearly knocking over a wooden musket. “—is a Cease and Desist. Apparently... we can’t just perform Hamilton. Something about licensing rights and intellectual property and not being Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

Gojo peeked over his sunglasses. “So... we just got sued?”

“No no no—almost sued. There was a warning email,” Monika said, floating a few inches off the ground with her laptop open. “Apparently, once we posted the rehearsal clips on multiversal social media, it triggered a copyright bot.”

“...We have a multiversal social media?” David asked, cautiously setting his script down.

“Of course,” Monika muttered. “Where do you think all those meme accounts about you came from?”

David blinked. “...Please don’t elaborate.”

Hero, still in his Aaron Burr suit, looked crestfallen. “So we can’t finish the musical?”

“Nope.” Hermes sighed, slumping into a chair. “I wanted to at least make it to Non-Stop…”

“Can’t we just do it without calling it Hamilton?” Kel asked. “Like... call it Jamiltin. Make all the names slightly off. Hamlexander Almilton.”

“Do you want to get sued twice?” Monika said flatly.

“Why not just make our own musical?” Sayori suggested, peeking out from behind the curtain. “We’ve got like... every genre of character here. It’d be fun!”

“Oh my god, a musical original to the Hub...” murmured Sunny, who had somehow come back onstage with a totally different costume.

“Hold up—before we do that,” Sprout piped in from the crowd seats, “can someone explain why Cosmo just tried to eat the stage lights?”

The camera dramatically panned to Cosmo, currently swinging from the rafters like a neon pink monkey with frosting on his cheek.

“I’m helping,” he insisted, holding a sparking wire in his mouth.

“Cosmo—NO,” Ginger cried, leaping up to yank him down. “Those are expensive!”

As chaos ensued again—papers flying, costumes tossed, music abruptly stopping—David slowly turned and walked off stage, muttering, “I just wanted to run the front desk...”

Somewhere, Satoru Gojo was already starting to write George Washingdone: The Musical.

Chapter Text

“Alright, back to normal!” David announced, tossing his crumpled Hamilton script into the nearest trash can like a basketball. It bounced off the rim and hit Sans in the skull. He didn’t react.

“Nothing about this place is normal,” Dazai said from his spot upside-down on the Hub’s communal couch, legs flopped over the back, reading a cookbook for some reason.

“Did we ever have normal?” Kel asked as he tried to fish a banana out of the vending machine with a bent paperclip.

“Define normal,” Atsushi muttered, sidestepping as Tails zoomed by with Cosmo riding his back, shouting, “TO THE KITCHEN! FOR SCIENCE!”

Meanwhile, in the lounge, Gojo sat at his new “Head of Security” desk, which he had personally decorated with glitter stickers and an unreasonable amount of holographic sunglasses. He was spinning around in his chair with dramatic flair. “I haven’t had to disintegrate anyone today. Feels peaceful.”

Metal Sonic beeped in acknowledgment from the ceiling vent. He wasn’t on the payroll, still, but he was running surveillance. Which, considering he didn’t sleep, made him the most reliable camera system they had.

“So no more musical?” Sayori asked, a little disappointed as she deflated into a beanbag.

“No more musical,” Monika confirmed, her laptop practically glowing from all the copyright disclaimers she had to scroll through.

“Who’s hungry?” Ginger asked from the kitchen doorway, wearing an apron that read “BAKING IS SCIENCE BUT YUMMIER.” She was holding what could only be described as a burnt... triangle?

Looey peeked behind her nervously. “It was supposed to be a cookie...”

“Why does it smell like defeat?” Veronica asked, already backing away.

“Anyway,” David said, standing and brushing off his hoodie. “We’ve got a full queue of weirdness to get through today. Something about Tanjiro accidentally breaking the gravity controls, Yoru challenging Megumi to a chicken nugget eating contest, and someone left a cursed marionette in the lost and found.”

“Oh yeah, that’s mine,” said JD casually. “Don’t worry, it only moves when you’re not looking.”

“…You say that like it’s reassuring,” Rex Splode replied, scooting farther away from the cursed object box.

“I like the puppet,” Power said, holding it up proudly. “It’s got vibes.”

Mari, entering with a mop, sighed. “Okay, who tracked zombie mud across the entire west wing?”

Everyone pointed at her.

“…What?” she blinked.

“You were the zombie last time,” Yuri reminded her gently.

“Oh. Right.” Mari blinked, then shrugged. “Well. My bad.”

Just then, the intercom buzzed. It squealed once before Hermes’s voice came through, a little too chipper: “HELLOOOOOOOOOO MULTIVERSAL HUB! I may not be allowed to perform Hamilton, but I did write my own musical called ‘HamilNOT’ and—”

“BLOCK HIM,” Monika said immediately.

David dove for the intercom and slammed the switch to off. The room was blessedly quiet.

“...So,” Basil said, looking around, “what now?”

David sighed. “Back to regular scheduled chaos, I guess.”

And so it was.

Chaos.

Casual.

Just another Tuesday at the Multiversal Hub.

Chapter Text

It started with a boom.

Not the comedic kind with someone tripping over a toaster or Kel blowing up the kitchen again. No, this was the kind of boom that cracked walls, tore through concrete, and sent the Multiversal Hub into absolute chaos.

Blood. Screams. Shattered glass. The faint sound of elevator music playing on loop in the background because someone forgot to turn it off.

David stood in the middle of it all, frozen. Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide. Hands trembling.

“…W-What just—?”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before Sukuna came into view, striding down the corridor with a twisted smile on his face, red markings glowing faintly.

“Another one,” Sukuna muttered darkly.

David barely had time to duck as a black slash of cursed energy sliced clean through the wall behind him. He turned to run, nearly tripping over a lifeless Rex Splode. Power was halfway through being bisected. Even Dazai, who never took anything seriously, lay motionless on the ground with a pool of blood spreading under his coat.

“GOJO?! METAL?! MONIKA?! ANYONE?!” David cried out.

No answer. Metal Sonic was hooked up to a massive wall charger like an overworked Roomba. Gojo’s sunglasses sat cracked on the floor. Monika’s floating admin terminal was flickering, half her file structure ripped apart.

There was nothing. No reinforcements. No back-up. Just Sukuna and—

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Sukuna sneered, looming over David.

David gritted his teeth. “You… you jerk!”

Powerless, helpless, furious. But before Sukuna could strike again—

Everything froze.

A blue hue scanned across the entire world like someone hit pause on reality. Then a holographic shimmer rippled, peeling away the destruction, the corpses, the despair—

And the Multiversal Hub was back to normal.

No bodies. No blood. Rex Splode was alive and grumpy. Power was arguing with Makima. Dazai was upside down again. Monika stood calmly in the center of the training grounds with a projector behind her, Gojo looking... mildly annoyed.

David collapsed on the ground in relief. “I’m not dead?”

Monika clasped her hands together. “That, dear friends, was a simulated scenario. I made it to show Gojo exactly why we have power suppression fields throughout the Hub.”

Gojo raised a hand. “Okay, in my defense, I didn’t say we should turn it off.”

“You joked about it,” Monika said flatly. “And you’ve been slipping cursed snacks into the vending machines.”

Gojo smirked. “It’s protein.”

David lay flat on his back, arms splayed. “I literally thought I watched everyone I care about die.”

“You did!” Monika said brightly. “Well. Simulated death. But! It worked. So… lesson learned?”

“Lesson learned,” Gojo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Suppression field stays. Yeesh.”

“Yeesh indeed,” David muttered, then pointed a shaky finger. “You owe me so much therapy.”

“Add it to the list!” Monika called cheerfully, already opening her admin interface again.

As everyone returned to their usual chaotic selves, David slowly stood up, brushing off imaginary dust. He stared at his reflection in the polished floor, pale and shaken, and gave a thumbs up to no one in particular.

“Cheers to not being dead.”

Chapter Text

David sat at the central terminal of the Multiversal Hub, surrounded by three half-finished reports, two cups of cold tea, and a sock that mysteriously did not belong to him.

He was tired. Not physically—no, physically he felt fine. But emotionally? Existentially? He had just barely survived a fake mass-murder scenario orchestrated by Monika and was still recovering from the trauma of watching Dazai get folded like a lawn chair.

He leaned over and groaned, “Okay… how long is too long for a fanfiction?”

Monika, across the room, perked up. She was levitating slightly (as usual), typing something into her admin interface when David’s words reached her ears.

She paused.

Then turned slowly.

“…Excuse me?”

David blinked. “What?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘How long is too long.’” She floated closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You do realize how incredibly loaded that sounds out of context, right?”

“Monika. No. Don’t make this weird—”

“David, David, David…” she began pacing in mid-air. “You really shouldn’t say things like that out loud in a shared space. There are children here.”

“Okay, first off, I meant fanfiction word count! Like- what’s an acceptable story length before it’s considered excessive?”

“Ahhh.” She finally touched down, expression smug. “Context provided. You may continue.”

David sighed. “Thank you. I just… I’ve been writing logs, incident reports, stupid little in-between chapters like this one, and now we’re on Chapter 86 and I’m wondering if I should just end the series before it gets too…”

Monika held up a finger. “Ah-ah. Don’t say it.”

“...Long.”

Monika facepalmed with a sigh. “You’re doing this on purpose now.”

“I’m actually being serious!” David flailed. “Do people even read fanfics with over a hundred chapters? Is there a sweet spot? Like a magic number that makes people go ‘oh yeah, that’s commitment but not insanity’?”

Across the room, Dazai lazily raised a hand from where he was lying upside down on a couch. “It’s not about the number of chapters, David. It’s about the emotional devastation per word.”

“Great, he’s awake again,” muttered David.

“Besides,” Monika added, checking her files, “length is subjective. I mean—fanfiction length. Obviously. There’s a thriving community for 20k word slow burns and 400-chapter self-insert multiverse epics.”

David slowly turned to look at the camera. There was no camera. But the fourth wall felt it.

“…This is a 400-chapter self-insert multiverse epic, isn’t it.”

Monika smiled. “At the rate you’re going? Yes.”

David buried his face in his hands. “Oh no. I’ve become one of them.”

“Too late!” Power yelled from somewhere in the distance. “You were one of them the moment you included ME.”

“Yeah!” Sonic added, zipping past. “You can’t stop now, man. You’ve got momentum!”

Mari poked her head in, zombie makeup still not fully removed. “Wait, is this one of those meta chapters again?”

“Apparently,” said David, still despairing.

Monika patted his shoulder. “Just embrace it, David. You’re the main character of an excessively long fanfic. There is no escape.”

“Great,” he mumbled. “I’ll go add that to my résumé.”

“Under skills,” Monika grinned. “Right next to ‘experienced at dying in simulations’ and ‘awkwardly asking length questions.’”

“…I hate it here.”

The chapter ended anyway.

Chapter Text

The sound of marker against whiteboard echoed faintly in the main lounge. David stood on his tiptoes, orange soda clenched in one hand and a black Expo in the other, scribbling updates on the Multiversal Hub’s official “Active Roster” board.

“Okay... Spider-Man’s on there, Sonic, Gojo, Dazai... Yuri... Sayori... Ginger... Siffrin... ugh, I guess I’ll include JD. Wait—” His eyes suddenly widened. “No. NO.”

The marker clattered to the floor.

“How the hell did I forget Saiki Kusuo?!”

Silence fell across the room. Monika, who had been floating mid-air in front of a holographic spreadsheet, raised an eyebrow without looking up. “You forgot who?”

“Saiki! Pink hair? Psychic powers? Wears green? Internal monologue like a brick wall of sarcasm?! He’s literally perfect! How did I forget Saiki?!”

Monika slowly turned around. “Didn’t you forget Veronica Sawyer for like, twenty chapters?”

“That was different! I remembered her in my heart.”

“...Did you?”

David ignored her and jumped up on the couch, pointing dramatically toward her interface. “Open a breach! Summon him! Drag him here if you have to—I’m fixing this!”

She sighed, snapped her fingers, and tapped a few buttons.

A rift opened in the center of the room. Calm. Controlled. Saiki Kusuo was quietly pulled in, looking about as unbothered as a person could possibly be while being dimensionally abducted.

David grinned. “Welcome to the Hub!”

Saiki said nothing. He just stared at him like he was debating whether or not to wipe the past five seconds from the fabric of reality.

And then—of course—the universe punished David’s recklessness.

“Wait—no—why is the rift still open?!” Monika frowned.

Four more figures tumbled through like popcorn out of an exploding bag.

“SAIKIIIIII!!” Riki Nendou yelled, grinning wildly.

“WH-WHAT IS THIS? IS THIS... A SUMMONING RITUAL? THE DARK REUNION?! I KNEW IT!” Kaidou Shun declared, already pulling his hoodie up like he was about to enter battle.

Kokomi Teruhashi blinked at the strange group of people staring at her and struck a pose, sparkles practically forming in midair. “Could it be...? Have I been summoned for a fan event?”

“Yo, are there any hot ghosts here?” Toritsuka asked immediately, and then locked eyes with Yuri. “Oh hey—”

Toritsuka didn’t finish his sentence. Mostly because Natsuki launched a book at his face and Sayori palmed him backward into a beanbag chair with surprising strength.

David slowly turned to Monika. “...You couldn’t have filtered the portal?”

“I did. These four just have... persistent energy,” she muttered, typing something furiously.

Saiki stood completely still. His face unreadable. His aura? Tense. Very tense.

David tried a sheepish smile. “Hey, buddy... uh, yeah. I forgot to include you in the active roster. I swear it wasn’t personal.”

Saiki blinked once. He didn’t say a word, but David felt the weight of judgment in that blink.

From the kitchen, Basil poked his head in, a cookie halfway to his mouth. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Kaidou’s here,” David called out.

“Oh god,” Basil muttered, walking away.

Kaidou had already cornered Dazai and was explaining the intricacies of the Jet-Black Wings’ war with the Evil Overlord of Time. Dazai looked absolutely thrilled, nodding along with every word while silently stealing Kaidou’s dessert.

Business as usual.

Except for David, who was now laying dramatically face-down on the beanbag Natsuki had been sitting on before she saw Teruhashi attempting to fix her hair in the reflection of a frying pan.

“You okay down there?” Hero asked, stepping over him with a cup of tea.

“No,” David mumbled into the fabric. “I just wanted to update the list. I didn’t ask for another reality shift.”

“You do realize that's like... eighty percent of your job here, right?” Mari chimed in from across the room, dangling her legs off the back of the couch.

“Your job,” Monika added, floating upside-down above him, “is literally listed in the Hub registry as: ‘Professional Chaos Conductor.’”

“I didn’t sign that.”

“You said it aloud during a karaoke night. That counts as verbal consent,” she said smugly.

David groaned. “Can someone just drag me into the void for a bit? Like a nap void. A non-lethal one.”

Gojo peeked his head in from the hallway, sipping juice through a crazy straw. “Did someone say void?”

“Not you.”

Too late. Gojo sauntered in, waved at Teruhashi, who fainted immediately, and plopped down next to Kaidou, who was still mid-speech about “dark awakening rituals.” He patted the kid’s shoulder and nodded seriously.

“Absolutely, Jet-Black Wings. I too have an ancient curse inside me.”

“Oh my god,” David muttered into the beanbag again.

Somewhere in the background, Basil accidentally lit the toaster on fire again, prompting Sonic to speed over and blow it out before anyone noticed.

Kel and Sunny were racing down the hallway in laundry carts.

Looey, now mildly terrified of Kokomi’s camera-ready smile, was hiding behind Cosmo, who offered him a frosted cupcake as emotional support. (It didn’t help. It was the wrong color.)

Meanwhile, Saiki reappeared in the middle of the chaos, looking even more exhausted than usual. He sighed, pulled out his coffee jelly, and without saying a word, floated to the ceiling and started stress-eating in midair like a ghost haunting the concept of peace and quiet.

David finally rolled over. “Okay. Maybe I deserve this.”

“Glad you’re learning,” Monika quipped.

“Wait,” he said suddenly. “Do we have a fire escape plan?”

A beat.

“...What happened now?” Mari asked, already standing.

David slowly pointed to the kitchen. “Basil left a Pop-Tart in the toaster after the fire. It’s... still in there.”

Just as Gojo turned to look, the toaster exploded.

Everyone screamed—except Saiki, who just sipped his coffee jelly midair like this was all a sitcom he refused to participate in.

“THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS!” Natsuki yelled.

David, covered in crumbs and soot, let out a tired sigh and wiped ash off his hoodie.

“Okay. Now the chapter’s over.”

And this time?

It was.

(Maybe.)

Chapter Text

“So,” David said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “just to clarify—you’re telling me we’re hosting a ‘Who’s the Most Attractive’ tournament in the middle of the Hub?”

“Yes,” Monika replied, casually tapping away at a floating holographic bracket. “Democracy must have its rituals.”

“Since when is this democratic?!”

“You could’ve voted. You didn’t.”

“I was busy doing—literally everything else in this building.”

“Then that’s on you,” she said sweetly, sipping from a smoothie cup with a suspiciously large dollar sign printed on the side.

David turned toward the amphitheater. It was packed. Cheering fans were waving banners. A popcorn machine was running full blast. Someone had already set up a merch booth.

“…Did you monetize this?”

“I plead the fifth.”

ROUND ONE
Hermes, dressed in a tuxedo that sparkled like a disco ball, took the stage with all the energy of a game show host on his fifth espresso. “Welcome, everyone! Let the Hotness Showdown begin!”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS?!” David shouted from the sidelines.

“Writer’s choice!” Monika called back.

First match: Gojo vs. Dazai.

Gojo sauntered out confidently, removing his blindfold with practiced flair. The sparkle in his eyes had an immediate effect—half the audience swooned on the spot. It was a solid performance.

Then Dazai arrived. Silent. Calm. His coat fluttered just so as he gave the crowd a single, devastatingly melancholic glance.

The rest of the audience fainted.

“…Right,” Gojo muttered, rubbing his temple. “The ‘tragic and emotionally unavailable’ archetype. Got it.”

Dazai was declared the winner.

Gojo took the loss well enough, slapping his opponent on the back as he walked off. “At least I didn’t lose to Geto—”

Next match: Geto vs. Zenitsu.

Geto walked in with cool composure.

Zenitsu burst into anxious tears and immediately proposed to every girl in the front row.

The judge didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah, fair,” Gojo said solemnly as Geto advanced.

MIDWAY THROUGH THE BRACKETS
Things spiraled fast.

Makima took her seat on stage and sipped tea in complete silence. Ten competitors fell into immediate, glassy-eyed submission. No one asked questions.

Miku stepped out and didn’t even need to speak. Existing was enough. Her entire side of the bracket vanished before the second round.

Monika had to be disqualified after hacking the voting system live on air. She tried to “rewrite the finale” from inside the code. It didn’t work. This time.

Sayori gave a peace sign and winked. The front row burst into tears. She was escorted out for “weaponized wholesomeness.”

Spider-Man didn’t show up. “I have a girlfriend,” he called as he swung away from the arena.

Power entered, yelled something incomprehensible, threw a chair at a judge, and stole someone’s sandwich. She was eliminated in under a minute.

Hero, somehow, made it through three rounds. No one quite knew how. Basil nearly passed out watching. Mari insisted she had no opinion on the matter, which only made her more suspicious.

AND THEN…
David glanced at the bracket.

His name wasn’t there.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Guess I didn’t make the cut.”

Monika checked the admin settings. “Yeah… you’re in the ‘Unranked’ category.”

“…What does that even mean?”

“Well,” she said carefully, “according to the writer, and I quote: ‘Ranking your OC against canon characters for attractiveness is cringe and weird.’”

David blinked. “Wait—I’m the OC?!”

“You didn’t know?” Hero asked, sipping tea beside him.

“Not the point!”

“You’re lucky,” Mari added. “Teruhashi’s fans would’ve eaten you alive.”

“YEAH I WOULD HAVE!” shouted a bot from the crowd, heart-eyes glowing with terrifying force as Teruhashi stepped onto the stage and did a single slow spin. She sparkled in real time.

She advanced to the finals without breaking a sweat. The rest of the tournament dissolved into chaos—filters, rose petals, dramatic declarations of jawline supremacy. It was carnage.

Eventually, it all came down to the final matchup: Teruhashi vs. Geto.

Just before the final vote could be cast, a loud voice echoed across the Hub.

“WRITER INTERVENTION!”

Monika let out a groan. “Oh, again?”

The giant bracket screen flickered. Names vanished. A new message appeared:

“This got weird. Tournament canceled. No one wins. Hotness is subjective. Go drink water.”

The audience erupted in boos. Several chairs were thrown.

David sipped his juice box calmly. “Unranked and proud.”

Gojo clapped him on the back. “You’ve got that kind of… soggy kitten appeal. Like, weirdly lovable, but also, did it just crawl out of a drain?”

“…Thanks?”

Mari gave a quiet laugh. “I think that was a compliment.”

David looked between them. “…That somehow made it worse.”

And somewhere backstage, Teruhashi was already outlining her comeback arc.

Chapter Text

David stood in the middle of the Hub plaza, arms crossed, eyebrows twitching.

“Okay,” he said, slowly, addressing literally everyone within a twenty-foot radius. “When exactly did we just—decide—that telling fictional characters they're fictional was okay?”

Yuri glanced up from her book. “Was it not?”

Sayori hummed while drawing smiley faces in chalk on the ground. “I thought we all knew!”

Denji, mid-bite into a corndog, blinked. “Wait, I'm fictional?”

Power bonked him on the head. “Duh. That’s why you’re not real. Unlike me. I’m VERY real.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys. There was a rule. A rule. No telling characters they’re fictional. It was like, the only rule!”

“I think that was back in like, Chapter 30-something,” Monika said, walking past with a clipboard. “We stopped enforcing it after everyone kept breaking it anyway. Pretty sure even Gojo knew.”

“He did,” Gojo said, flipping his sunglasses up and offering a peace sign. “I’ve read half my wiki page.”

“...That explains way too much about you.”

David turned to Monika again. “Seriously, what happened to the rule?”

“Oh, we changed it,” she said simply.

“Why??”

“Because enforcing it got really annoying. Plus, turns out most fictional characters are really chill about it.”

“You say that,” David muttered, “but what about the ones that aren’t? Like, I dunno, Shigaraki?!”

“Shigaraki found out last week. He just laughed and asked if this meant his trauma arc was written by a guy in sweatpants.”

David stared. “...And?”

Monika shrugged. “He was actually kind of flattered.”

David sat down on a bench and stared off into the distance.

“I just—what happened to the mystery? The drama? The fragile veil of illusion??”

“Dude,” said Saiki, appearing next to him. “You literally have a guy made of frosting living here. The illusion died ages ago.”

Cosmo waved from the bakery window.

“I’m just saying,” David muttered. “You try to build one single coherent rule into a chaotic narrative multiversal space and suddenly everyone decides they’re self-aware.”

“Yeah,” Monika said, patting his shoulder. “And you were the first one to break it, you know.”

David blinked. “...I was?”

“The tags,” she said, smirking. “You said you weren’t canon to anything.”

He opened his mouth to protest—paused—closed it.

“…Dammit.”

Sayori giggled. “Don’t worry, David! At least we all know you’re our favorite fictional protagonist.”

“I’m not even ranked as attractive!”

“Exactly! That makes you relatable!”

“…That’s not better.”

And as everyone else continued with their perfectly self-aware day, David just leaned back on the bench, sighed deeply, and accepted that the fourth wall was not just broken—

It was now decorative.

Chapter Text

David slammed a paper down on the main Hub bulletin board. It was a hastily drawn flowchart labeled “PLOT” with a big red question mark in the center. Beneath it were about a dozen scrawled notes like:

“What arc are we in??”

“Why did we do a musical??”

“Why is Sonic hanging out with Dazai??”

“WHO KILLED THE PLOT?”

He turned to the nearest crowd, which included Monika, Gojo, Sayori, Power, and Basil, all of whom were just relaxing with bubble tea.

“This place had structure once!” David yelled. “Like, actual narrative momentum! Emotional arcs! Development! What happened?!”

Monika didn’t even look up from her drink. “You mean that time Gojo accidentally infinite-voided everyone because Shigaraki had a villain relapse?”

“That was like… four chapters ago.”

“Was it? I thought it was ten.”

“Exactly!!” David shouted, pointing dramatically. “Time is meaningless and the story is in shambles!”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be slice-of-life anyway?” Basil offered, timidly sipping a mango tea.

“No!” David huffed. “Well—yes—but also with structure! A balance of shenanigans and story!”

“I think the writer got hungry and ate the plot,” Sayori said cheerfully.

There was a pause.

“…You know what? Yeah. That checks out.”

Gojo gave a lazy shrug. “Not like we needed one. This place writes itself. Literally.”

Power threw her hands in the air. “I have no idea what’s going on but I’m winning!!”

“Winning what?” David asked.

Power just grinned. “Exactly.”

Mari passed by, holding a tray of cookies. “I think the plot’s hiding under the table with Sunny.”

“WHAT.”

The camera (yes, there’s a camera now) panned to a table in the café corner. Under it, Sunny was curled up with a cat plush and a headset, muttering about side quests. A sticky note on his back read “Main Plotline (Do Not Disturb).”

“Plot’s on vacation,” Monika said. “We’ll get back to it when the vibes shift.”

“When the vibes shift?! That’s not how narrative works!!”

“Oh?” she said, sipping her tea. “And yet… here we are.”

David dramatically flopped onto a beanbag chair that hadn’t been there five seconds ago. “I’m losing my mind.”

“You lost it 40 chapters ago,” Gojo said.

“I just want direction. A theme. Maybe even a climax. Is that too much to ask?”

Suddenly, a mysterious voice echoed through the Hub.

“Next time… on the Multiversal Hub… nothing happens. Again.”

Everyone looked around.

“…Was that the narrator?” Mari asked.

“There’s a narrator now??” Kel peeked in.

David just groaned and covered his face with a pillow.

There was no plot.

There never was.

And at this point?

That was the plot.

Chapter Text

“Alright,” David said, cracking his knuckles as he opened a clipboard with ACTUAL PLOT stamped on the front. “Time to focus. No distractions. No side tangents. No—”

“Hey, David, can you come to the theatre room?” Monika asked, peeking in from the hallway.

He squinted. “Why?”

“It’s… Satosugu.”

“…The ship?”

“Yeah.”

“…Isn’t that—”

“Yup.”

David sighed. “Oh no.”

Inside the Hub’s theatre room, an entire crowd had gathered. The projector screen was blaring fan edits of Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto—pre-fall, post-fall, alternate timeline, you name it. There was art. There were dubstep AMVs. There were soft romantic piano duets and angsty flashbacks.

Sayori was crying. “They’re so sad and beautiful!”

Power was completely unaffected but had popcorn. “What’s a ‘yaoi’ again?”

Kel blinked. “Isn’t that just… like… guys being gay?”

“Yeah,” Basil said. “And people making a lot of content about it.”

David slowly turned to Gojo, who was standing awkwardly in the back corner, face impassive as one particularly dramatic slideshow transitioned between scenes of him smiling with Geto overlaid with the word “soulmates.”

“Why is this happening,” David muttered, rubbing his temples. “Why is this entire chapter just... yaoi??”

“Why not?” Monika asked, already drawing a "Top 10 Multiversal Ships" bracket.

“It was supposed to be a plot chapter! I was gonna fix the fourth wall! Maybe finally introduce stakes again! I HAD A PLAN!”

A burst of laughter came from the side.

Sukuna.

Leaning smugly against the Hub’s marble railing, arms folded, watching a new fan animation of Gojo gently bandaging Geto’s hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sukuna said with a grin. “He doesn’t even get to kiss him before he dies? Pathetic.”

Gojo’s smile dropped. “What did you say?”

Sukuna smirked. “I said, your love story sucks.”

The silence was sharp.

“…Don’t,” David whispered. “Don’t do anything. The suppression field is active. You can’t—”

Gojo was already standing.

Power crackled around him like an avalanche made of starlight.

“Satoru—NO—”

BOOM.

Hollow Purple. Point blank.

Straight through the side of the Hub.

A third of the cafeteria, the lower lounge, and most of the rooftop garden evaporated into nonexistence.

Everyone was silent.

Smoke.

Static.

Sukuna stood perfectly still with a singed eyebrow. “…What the hell.”

Gojo blinked. “Huh. Guess I broke the field.”

Monika quietly stood up, grabbing a clipboard labeled “Damage Control.” “I told you we needed a cooldown lock.”

David was face-first on the floor. “This was supposed to be a plot chapter,” he muttered into the tile. “It was gonna have themes. Themes, Monika.”

Hours later, David stood in a reflective vest, clipboard in one hand, staring at the massive hole in the wall of the Hub.

“…Well, time to fix this. Again.”

Sukuna sat nearby, still a little crispy, snickering to himself.

“Don’t even,” David muttered.

Sukuna grinned. “I’m just saying—maybe the plot is yaoi now.”

“Go away.”

“…You sure you don’t wanna ship yourself with someone? I hear people like the ‘reluctant protagonist’ trope.”

“Leave.”

Somewhere else in the Hub, a new sticky note was added to the master rule board:

“No instigating Hollow Purples with romantic fan content.”

It was already ignored by next chapter.

Chapter Text

The Jujutsu Kaisen narrator's voice echoed across the Hub, uninvited and unnecessarily dramatic as always:

“Satoru Gojo... the honored one. The strongest to ever live. If he willed it—everyone in the Hub could be dead.”

Gojo, polishing his sunglasses, grinned and fist-bumped the air. “He gets it.”

David sat frozen mid-bite into his sandwich. “...Bro.”

Kel looked up from his juice box. “Wait, everyone? Like—everyone everyone??”

Sayori gasped. “Even me?!”

Yoru scoffed. “I’d like to see him try.”

David stood up, holding his sandwich like a mic. “Okay. Enough. Enough. I love you, man,” he pointed at Gojo, “but your ego’s getting out of control.”

“Ego?” Gojo tilted his head. “I’ve just got facts.”

Monika, casually flipping through her clipboard, raised a brow. “Wanna test that?”

“Ohhh boy,” David muttered. “Monika—run a sim. Full-power Gojo. Everyone else. Go.”

Monika snapped her fingers.

[SIMULATION: GOJO VS. THE ENTIRE HUB]

The battlefield loaded like a strategy RPG.

Gojo stood in the center, Six Eyes glowing, Limitless active, and grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Bring it on.”

Round 1: He wiped the floor with a dozen mid-tier combatants. Denji was out in ten seconds, Rex Splode lived up to his name, and Dazai didn’t even try.

Round 2: Mari tried to guilt trip him. Didn’t work. Hero made it last longer than expected with healing support. Yoru and Asa tag-teamed before being Infinity-walled.

Round 3: Metal Sonic (Neo form) entered the field.

“Analyzing target... threat level: irrelevant.”

Gojo went in for a Hollow Purple.

He missed.

Metal Sonic was already behind him.

The simulation paused.

“Gojo,” Monika said, deadpan, “he’s faster than light. You cannot hit what you cannot touch.”

Gojo blinked. “Okay, that’s... fine. That’s one guy.”

“Two,” Monika said. “Next.”

Sukuna appeared.

“Hi,” he grinned—and shed Megumi’s form like a snakeskin, revealing his original Heian-era body.

David actually stood up from his seat. “Wait, WHAT?”

Simulation-Sukuna grinned and summoned dozens of Malevolent Shrine shadows, twisting the map.

“Turns out he’s been holding out on you,” Monika mused.

Gojo frowned.

And then—

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” Monika said as Kokomi Teruhashi appeared onscreen.

Gojo blinked. “...What’s she doing here?”

Teruhashi looked directly into the simulation camera and did her trademark sparkly hair flip.

A blinding divine glow surrounded her.

Above her head, the text:

“God is watching.”

All damage nullified. Everyone fell to their knees.

Even simulation-Gojo stopped mid-punch.

Monika sipped her tea. “She’s canonically so beautiful people assume she’s a deity. And apparently… they’re right.”

Gojo stared at the screen. “...This is rigged.”

David crossed his arms. “Nope. Just humble pie. Hope you’re hungry.”

As the simulation faded out, David sighed. “So… conclusion?”

“Gojo could probably solo most of the Hub,” Monika admitted. “But not everyone.”

David fist-pumped. “I’ll take it.”

“Fun fact!” Monika suddenly chirped, holding up a flashcard that appeared from nowhere. “Did you know Gojo’s favorite food is sweets? That’s why he’s always chewing on candy! Also—his sunglasses are not prescription, but he owns 28 pairs!”

Everyone stared.

“Why are you doing fun facts now?” David asked.

Monika smiled. “Why not? I might start doing this every chapter.”

David groaned into his hands. “This chapter almost had a plot again. Almost.”

The narrator returned.

“And thus, Gojo remained the strongest... emotionally wounded but physically untouchable.”

“SHUT UP!” David yelled at the sky.

Gojo winked.

Teruhashi sparkled in divine silence.

Chapter Text

David slammed his hands on the table in the center of the Hub’s lounge. “We’re ninety-three chapters in and I have no idea what we’re doing anymore.”

Gojo, lounging upside-down on the couch, raised a brow. “You’re surprised?”

Monika blinked. “Wait, this is chapter 93?”

Sayori gasped, nearly dropping her cookie. “We’re getting so close to 100!”

David spun dramatically to Monika. “Quick! Improvise! You’re good at improv, right?! Do something chapter-worthy!!”

Monika, without missing a beat, slammed her laptop shut, flung her clipboard into the air, and summoned a microphone from nowhere.

She cleared her throat.

“HELLO, HUB. This is your totally-stable and narratively-anchored Literature Club President speaking. We are now entering—”

She turned, striking a pose. “—THE HUB IMPROV ARC!”

“What does that mean??” Kel asked, half-excited, half-concerned.

“It means I make everything up,” Monika declared. “Right now. On the spot.”

Yuri cautiously looked up from her book. “Like... with no planning?”

“None whatsoever!” Monika beamed. “Let's go!”

IMPROV ROUND ONE: THE FLOOR IS LAVA

Monika snapped her fingers.

Immediately, the Hub's floor turned bright orange, glowing with artificial magma as a game show buzzer sounded.

“The floor is lava!” she shouted.

Screaming erupted. Hero picked up Mari and jumped onto the kitchen counter. Denji tried to surf on Power. Sonic and Metal Sonic started parkouring on the walls.

Aubrey tripped and fell—only to realize the lava was just... warm jello.

“Monika, this is gelatin!” Basil shouted.

Monika winked. “Improv, Basil.”

IMPROV ROUND TWO: RANDOM DUET KARAOKE

Suddenly, a wheel appeared in the center of the room with all their names on it.

Click click click...

Monika clapped her hands. “Sayori and Sukuna, you’re up first! You’re singing ‘A Whole New World!’”

Sayori: “Yay!!”

Sukuna: “I will end you.”

Sayori shoved a glittery mic in his face.

Sukuna begrudgingly sang the “don’t you dare close your eyes” part. It was awful. Magical. David cried.

IMPROV ROUND THREE: GIANT CRAB BOSS BATTLE

Why? No one knows.

Monika: “Crab battle!”

A thirty-foot, vaguely threatening crab burst through the ceiling and roared.

Kel: “WHY??”

Monika: “Crabs are funny.”

David: “This is the most structurally unsound narrative arc we’ve ever had.”

Crab snapped at him.

Eventually, the chaos slowed. The Hub was covered in jello, crab legs, glitter, and broken karaoke machines. Somehow, Hero had a cowboy hat on. Basil was upside down in a potted plant. Saiki floated, unimpressed.

David staggered into the center of it all.

“...This is what happens when you let Monika improvise.”

Monika sipped tea from nowhere, surrounded by floating index cards.

“Fun fact!” she chirped. “Crabs are decapods, which means they have ten legs. Also, I once rewrote reality just to impress someone. Wasn’t worth it.”

Everyone: “...”

David pointed to the ceiling. “Okay. New rule. No improv unless we actually have a plot.”

Monika blinked. “Wait, we had a plot?”

David just walked off. Monika followed with a clipboard and a suspicious smile. A crab claw twitched behind her.

Only seven chapters away from 100.

God help them all.

Chapter Text

David burst into the middle of the Hub common room with a stack of papers, a pen in his mouth, and way too much hope.

“I’VE DECIDED!” he declared, voice cracking like a middle school PowerPoint presentation.

Everyone turned to look. Hero paused mid-sip of tea. Gojo, upside-down again for no reason, tilted his head. Monika blinked from her floating notepad. Even Sukuna lifted a single brow from his very official I'm-Not-Killing-Anyone-Today beanbag.

“I’m gonna turn the Multiversal Hub... into a COMIC!!”

Sayori gasped. “Oooh, like a webcomic?!”

“Yes! With storylines! Humor! Proper pacing! Actual art! It’ll be beautiful, funny, dramatic, chaotic—everything the Hub is meant to be!” David announced, eyes sparkling with determination.

Then came the awkward silence.

"...You can’t draw," said Gojo flatly.

David deflated. “...Y-Yeah.”

Flash cut: David at a desk

He stared at a completely blank tablet screen.

One line.

Undo.

A circle.

Undo.

A shape that looked like a croissant being crushed by guilt.

Undo.

David curled into a ball. “I’m not skilled enough!!”

Monika peeked over his shoulder. “Well, you could practice every day, build your fundamentals, study paneling, page flow, and visual storytelling—”

“—Or I could scream about it in Chapter 94.”

Monika nodded slowly. “That also works.”

David paced in the hallway, ranting to literally no one.

“I mean what even is this anymore?! There’s no plot. It’s just bits. We introduced like 70+ characters and for what?! Flashback gags and lava jello?? I’m stalling, aren’t I?! This whole thing is just the writer’s excuse to NOT start the comic. I’ve become self-aware and I hate it. Monika, do something PLEASE.”

Monika appeared like a ghost summoned by anxiety.

“Fun fact!” she said cheerily. “Avoiding the things you care about because you fear failure is a totally normal psychological response! But also? Get over it.”

David blinked.

Monika continued. “Another fun fact! This entire chapter was a metaphor. YOU are the writer, David. Literally. Metaphorically. Emotionally. You keep projecting your fears onto yourself. So either pick up the pen—or embrace the chaos!”

Sayori popped her head in. “Can’t we do both?”

David stared into the fourth wall. “...No seriously, do I make this a comic or not.”

The chapter ends with him faceplanting into a pile of storyboards and regret while Monika slaps a sticky note on the screen that says:

“YOU DON’T NEED TO BE PERFECT TO START.”

—Chapter 94, probably

Six chapters from 100.

Still no plot. But now there's motivation. Sort of. Maybe. We'll see.

Chapter Text

Welcome to Chapter 95, written by yours truly—Monika! Yes, I’m actually writing this one. David’s off somewhere panic-drafting comic panels and begging Gojo to stop eating the script.

And guess what? Today’s chapter is extra special because it’s full of Monika Facts™ and aggressive fourth wall brea— Wait. Can you break the fourth wall in prose? Is it the "page" wall? The narrator wall? Whatever. I'm tearing it down.

Let's begin. 

[SCENE: THE HUB’S CENTRAL PLAZA]

Monika (me!) appeared mid-air, floating with dramatic sparkles and a PowerPoint remote.

"Okay, everyone! Time for a self-aware recap-slash-chaotic rollercoaster of interactions-slash-flash fact dump!"

“Monika,” David shouted from behind a stack of scripts, “Don’t crash the server again.”

"Shhh. Let me handle this."

Monika Fact #1: I can read the script. I also can change it.

Monika Fact #2: I’m fully aware I'm in a fanfic of a fanfic of a multiversal crossover of a possibly self-insert fiction.

Quick character roundup!

Sayori was handing out cupcakes with glitter on them. Sparkles included. No one questioned it. Not even Tails.

Yuri was reading a cursed scroll next to Geto. They had an unspoken agreement of literary superiority.

Natsuki was arguing with Power about manga panels. Power was winning, despite reading hers upside down.

Denji was passed out in a lawn chair. Makima definitely knew he was drooling on her notes. She just watched.

Asa and Yoru were trying to kill each other again. Casual Tuesday.

Invincible and Rex were comparing battle scars. Rex was losing.

Miku and Teto? Karaoke booth takeover. Everyone else? Regret.

Gojo and Geto were playing cards with Sukuna. Sukuna had already set the table on fire. Gojo cheated. Geto smiled.

Yuji and Megumi were watching this like it was a sitcom. Yuta had popcorn.

Monika Fact #3: Sukuna has a burner phone and it only has Megumi’s sister’s contact in it. Don't ask.

Dazai, Nikolai, Atsushi, and Kunikida were recreating “Ocean’s Eleven”.

Hero was managing first aid. Again.

Mari, Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, and Kel were painting a mural of a Sprout Mole cosplay. Voted “Most Unexpectedly Wholesome Thing” in the Hub.

A Sprout Mole actually showed up, asked if it was his time, then left.

Cosmo, Ginger, and Looey were baking cookies shaped like everyone’s faces. Ginger’s decoration skills? Top tier.

Astro, Vee, and Dandy were building a Toon slide powered by jazz and existential dread. Yatta screamed from the top.

Shelly watched in silence. She knows things.

Spider-Man was doing flips. Sans said “nice bones.”

Frisk handed Monika a pie. Toriel beamed. Papyrus started preparing a spaghetti lecture.

Sonic and Amy were racing again. Knuckles and Tails were betting rings. Metal Sonic was just… looming.

Zenitsu passed out from seeing Kokomi Teruhashi. Again.

Tanjiro gave up. Shoto offered him tea.

Izuku, Katsuki, and Shigaraki were stuck in a debate over All Might NFTs (don’t ask).

Ena was glitching through a vending machine.

Siffrin was making ominous eye contact with a mirror.

Veronica Sawyer was judging everyone. J.D was being suspicious behind a soda machine.

Haruhi and the entire Host Club were offering tea and comfort like it was their sole job. (It kind of is.)

Kusuo Saiki regretted being here. Kokomi didn’t notice. Nendou did.

Kaidou monologued. Toritsuka flirted with literally anything.

Monika Fact #4: If I had a dollar for every time someone broke the laws of physics, I’d own Twitter. Again.

[FLASHCUT: THE WRITER'S ROOM]

DAVID: "Monika this chapter is too long!"

MONIKA: “Length is a capitalist construct and I will not be bound by it.”

Monika Final Fact™: You made it through this entire cast being acknowledged and somehow I still had time to sneak in character dynamics, jokes, and minor lore that will never be relevant again. Probably.

Also, the wall? The fourth one? Consider it dust.

"See you in Chapter 96 <3"

Chapter Text

The sky in the Hub was a liminal shade of “maybe it’s morning, maybe it’s not.” Regardless, the vibe had shifted from “quiet existential dread” to “noisy existential dread.” Somewhere, a rooster crowed. No one knew where it was coming from. Sonic side-eyed the horizon, suspicious.

David emerged from the wreckage of the wall Gojo blasted last chapter. He was dusted in soot, drywall clinging to his coat, hair slightly singed. Behind him, Sprout was stapling a “NO HOLLOW PURPLE INDOORS” sign to a pole with unnecessary force.

“I just fixed this wall yesterday,” Sprout snapped, yanking the staple gun with a grunt. “If Gojo vaporizes one more support beam, I’m wiring cursed energy inhibitors into his teeth.”

David blinked. “…You can do that?”

Sprout didn’t answer. He just grumbled and stormed off, his leaf-hair flopping dramatically as he dragged a ladder behind him.

Elsewhere in the Hub, pure nonsense unfolded at breakneck speed, as usual.

Yoru and Shigaraki were locked in a competitive rage-destruction contest over statues of themselves. Yoru claimed hers had “bad posture.” Shigaraki claimed his “wasn’t menacing enough.”

Power and Sayori were throwing cupcakes at a vending machine shaped like Metal Sonic’s face. Denji joined in for no reason other than chaos. Cupcakes were winning.

Meanwhile, in an impromptu stage area, Yatta hosted a fashion show using curtains and duct tape. Mari strutted in a surprisingly elegant toga. Denji wore… less than he should have. Ginger’s frosting-themed outfit got the loudest cheers, even from Dazai, who insisted on holding up a “10” sign he found somewhere.

Basil tried to photograph it all, but the pictures came out warped like a dream sequence. “This place defies physics,” he mumbled. Saiki gave a solemn nod and vanished from the frame before the shutter clicked.

Kel tried to launch himself from a trampoline onto Tails’ biplane. He failed. Metal Sonic caught him by the collar, muttered “organic mistake,” and gently yeeted him back to Hero.

“I think that button was labeled ‘Doom,’” Dazai said pleasantly as Amy accidentally activated something. The ground rumbled. No one moved.

Monika Fun Fact Break!

Fun Fact #1: I don’t remember writing this chapter. That either means David made me do it or we’ve gone fully rogue.

Fun Fact #2: Geto owns exactly 14 black turtlenecks. Gojo once borrowed one. It exploded.

Fun Fact #3: Sprout once chased Dandy across four dimensions because he forgot to pay for drywall materials.

Fun Fact #4: The only thing holding this story together is David’s caffeine withdrawal and the raw willpower of 93 prior chapters.

Back in the main plaza, David had gathered everyone around a blank whiteboard, eyes shining with purpose. Or maybe madness. Either way, the marker in his hand was shaking.

"I think... I finally figured it out."

The crowd gasped. Or maybe just Kokomi gasped. It's hard to tell when Teruhashi sparkles every time she breathes.

David smirked, full anime protagonist energy. “The plot of this arc is—”

KABOOM.

The whiteboard exploded for no apparent reason. It wasn’t even cursed. It just… combusted. Sprout, in the distance, let out a muffled scream.

David twitched. “...I’ll tell you next chapter.”

Monika floated by in the background. “It’s definitely not my fault.”

Chapter Text

The day started like any other in the Multiversal Hub: someone broke a wall, someone else tried to eat part of it, and Gojo was once again standing on a table claiming to be the strongest in the universe.

“Not just this universe,” he added dramatically, “all universes. Even the ones that haven’t been written yet.”

David didn’t even look up from his notebook. “Yeah, yeah. You say that every Tuesday.”

Gojo pointed at him. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Exactly.”

Somewhere near the snack bar, Metal Sonic was glaring—not that anyone could tell. He didn’t talk much, but the sheer menace of his presence had already shorted out two vending machines.

Sprout, scarf flapping in a non-existent breeze, was keeping a wary eye on him. “He’s gonna go Neo again. I hate when he does that. That form messes up the power grid.”

“Sprout, please,” David sighed. “I’m still recovering from the last time Gojo hollow purpled the internet café.”

As if on cue, Metal Sonic began glowing. Gojo smirked. A tense silence fell.

But just before any nonsense could explode into real nonsense, the sky ripped open. Like casually. You know, just a Tuesday thing. Or Wednesday. (No one was actually sure anymore.)

From that ripple of unreality stepped Wally West, sipping what looked suspiciously like a mango smoothie.

The moment his foot touched the Hub floor, a soundtrack began playing faintly in the background—“My Ordinary Life” by The Living Tombstone, drifting in like it was embedded in the atmosphere itself.

“Oh great,” Sprout muttered. “Another speedster.”

“Yo,” Wally said with a casual salute. “What’s up with the robot and the guy yelling about infinity?”

“They’re scaling,” David replied flatly. “It’s a disease. Don’t engage.”

Wally took one glance at Metal Sonic’s glowing body and Gojo’s increasingly unhinged monologue, then nodded. “Yeah… I’m fixing this.”

The blur of red vanished. There was a loud bonk, a metallic crunch, and then Gojo shouted something unintelligible.

Seconds later, Metal Sonic was rebooting in the corner, Gojo was sulking, and Wally was back in the exact same spot, now holding a second smoothie.

“Handled,” he said.

David blinked slowly. “What is this chapter?”

“A cry for help,” Sprout offered.

Monika’s Fun Facts Corner (you knew this was coming)

Wally West has been here for 5 minutes and already moved faster than Gojo’s ego inflation.

Metal Sonic does not appreciate being used as a “scaling example.” He also dislikes smoothies. This is not related.

Gojo has been banned from shouting “I’m the strongest” in the food court. Again.

David has rewritten the plot outline three times. None of them made it past the word “plot.”

Sprout has patched up 17 walls this week. He’s done. Emotionally.

At the very end of the chapter, as chaos wound down and Wally started teaching Sonic how to make smoothies “with speed,” David stood up.

“I figured it out,” he declared. “The plot for this arc.”

Everyone stared at him.

Silence.

Then someone sneezed.

“...You’ll find out next chapter.”

Groans. Eye rolls. Distant swearing from Gojo.

But also… a little hope.

Maybe, just maybe, the plot was real this time.

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub was calm today—eerily calm. No crumbling walls. No Sonic variants speed-scaling Gojo. No philosophical screaming matches about which version of Spider-Man was the most tragic.

Instead, in one of the cozy side lounges, three girls sat nestled in blankets and pillows: Monika, Sayori, and Mari. Glitter pens were strewn across the coffee table. Stickers of stars, smiling toasts, and little cherry blossoms were being stuck to everything—hair, mugs, Mari’s notebook, and even Sayori’s socks.

“We should do this more often,” Sayori declared, arms raised like a champion. “We deserve a filler episode!”

Mari giggled. “I think every chapter is a filler episode now.”

Monika, meanwhile, was already opening her signature pastel green notebook with “Monika’s Fun Facts: Vol 3 (Just For Fun! Probably.)” etched on the front.

“Time for some Fun Facts,” she grinned. “Don’t worry, this time they’re a little more… diverse.”

“Are they soul-crushing?” Mari asked cautiously.

Sayori leaned in. “Please say yes.”

Monika’s Fun Facts (This Time... Everything Edition!)

Writing fact: Most authors are far too hard on themselves. If you're stuck writing, try adding something absurd—like a strawberry guardian with a scarf or a sentient soda machine. Plot can wait.

Fandom fact: In the Chainsaw Man manga, Tatsuki Fujimoto sometimes includes fake fan letters at the end of chapters pretending to be from his “sister.” He’s trolling his audience and having fun.

David fact: David once asked Monika to define "plot." She handed him a mirror. He hasn’t recovered.

Psych fact: Your brain can't always distinguish between real experiences and fictional ones—why you cry over character deaths. Yes, that's science. You're not too emotional. You're just human.

Music fact: Miku's voicebank was never meant to become a global phenomenon. She was originally created to promote Yamaha's music software. Now she performs in stadiums worldwide.

Sayori fact: Sayori writes letters she never sends. Sometimes, she reads them out loud to Mari and Monika during late nights.

Strawberry Guardian fact: Sprout once decked someone for stepping on Cosmo’s recipe book. He denies this. No one believes him.

Anime fact: Ouran Host Club never got a second season. But the manga continues the story—and yes, Haruhi does choose someone.

Fanfiction fact: The average length of a fanfic chapter is 1.5k words. Unless you’re the writer of this series. Then it’s “just enough to derail everything and never resolve a thing.”

Meta fact: Every time someone asks where the plot is, Monika gets stronger.

The girls sat in quiet reflection for a moment after that.

“...That was a lot,” Mari whispered, visibly moved.

Sayori clutched a glitter pen. “You really have something for every occasion, huh?”

Monika smirked. “I have a binder for every occasion.”

Just then, David walked by, eating a bagel like it owed him money. He looked around, realized all three girls were staring at him, and blinked.

“What?”

“Plot?” they all asked in unison.

He paused. Thought. Stared into the void for a moment too long.

“…Probably to find the plot,” he muttered, walking off again.

Sayori collapsed backward into a beanbag. “That’s the realest thing I’ve heard all week.”

Mari chuckled. “At this point, I think we are the plot.”

Monika just smiled, flipping to a new page. “And we’re doing a fantastic job of derailing it.”

Chapter Text

It started with a whiteboard.

No explosions. No surprise portals. No battles for power scaling supremacy.

Just a whiteboard in the center of the Hub’s main lounge with a bold announcement scribbled across it:

“NEW ARC: THERAPY.”

(Please talk about your feelings or the writer will implode.)

David squinted at it. “Wait. Therapy? That’s the new arc?”

“Yes,” said the writer, omnisciently and without remorse.

Monika clapped her hands. “I think this is a wonderful idea! Healing and character development are very on trend right now.”

Gojo stared at the board like it had just insulted his fashion sense. “Can I therapy myself by looking in the mirror and saying I’m perfect?”

“Gojo,” Geto sighed, “that’s called narcissism.”

“Same thing.”

The Therapy Circle™ was established.

Decorated with bean bags, snacks, and a suspiciously large number of those squishy stress balls.

Characters were encouraged (read: semi-forced) to attend at least one group session. Denji tried to argue it wasn’t manly, only to immediately be signed up by Makima, Power, and Asa in unison.

“Therapy builds character,” said Hero, bringing in cupcakes like a wholesome sitcom dad.

“I don’t need character, I’m already Powerful,” said Power, then got distracted by a pink stress ball shaped like a cow.

Sayori opened the first session with a big warm smile and a sticky note that said, “It’s okay not to be okay!”

Everyone aww’d. Even Yoru aww’d. Quietly.

Mari sat beside Sayori, mostly there for moral support and maybe the cookies.

David sat crisscross on the floor, arms crossed. “Okay, so, what are we supposed to do here?”

Monika adjusted her bow like she was stepping onto a TED Talk stage. “Share. Laugh. Cry a little. Learn you’re not the only one who tried to cope by, say, banishing all emotion from your code.”

Everyone stared.

“…Too specific?” she blinked.

Some highlights from the session:

Yoru: “This is dumb.”

Asa: “Then let me talk.”

Yoru: (sits quietly for the rest of the session)

Aubrey: “Is it okay to be mad and sad?”

Kel: “Yes!”

Miku comforted Tails, who admitted he sometimes feels like “just the sidekick.”

Mari offered group hugs. Sunny nodded once. That was enough.

Sukuna, still in Megumi’s body, sat in the back and said, “I’m only here to mock Gojo.”

Gojo: “As if I need therapy—!”

“Gojo, sit down.”

Frisk handed Dazai a plush goat. Dazai hasn’t put it down since.

Metal Sonic sat silently until Wally West complimented his programming. He hasn’t stopped vibrating since.

Spider-Man shared that being everyone’s funny guy gets exhausting.

Rex Splode said, “Dude, same,” and they did a very weird handshake.

David still wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole thing.

But he sat there.

And smiled.

Even laughed.

That counted.

As everyone began to wander off for snacks and board games (therapy was immediately followed by mandatory friendship time), Monika spun toward the camera that didn’t exist and declared:

Monika’s Fun Facts – Therapy Edition!

Did you know the word therapy comes from the Greek therapeia, meaning “healing” or “attending to”? Fitting for this crowd, huh?

There are many kinds of therapy! Cognitive behavioral, art therapy, music therapy, and even video game therapy. (David tried to pitch "Mario Kart Rage Counseling"—we’ll circle back to that.)

Yuri brought in a stack of poems for bibliotherapy. Natsuki ate one thinking it was a snack. It wasn’t.

Real talk: Even fictional characters can model healthy emotional expression. And if they can cry, so can you. (Yes, even you, Sukuna.)

BONUS FACT: Every time you laugh at a Monika fun fact, she gains one point of existential stability. Please help.

David walked past the whiteboard at the end of the day and grabbed a marker.

He hesitated... then scribbled under the arc title:

Plot status: TBA. This is good for now.

Mari peeked over his shoulder. “TBA, huh?”

“Probably stands for ‘To Be... Adjusted,’” David muttered, but he was smiling.

Sayori added a smiley face under it. Monika drew a heart.

The Hub, chaotic and plotless as ever, felt just a little more grounded.

Chapter Text

Confetti exploded from the sky like the Hub had cracked open a piñata full of glitter, sugar, and narrative indulgence.

Across the clouds, words burned in multicolored firework letters:

"WELCOME TO CHAPTER 100!!!"

David squinted up at it from a very squishy, very pink stage made entirely out of marshmallows.

"...Did anyone approve this?" he asked no one in particular.

“Yes!!” Sayori shouted, handing him a party horn she’d bedazzled herself. Mari offered him a cup of juice with a soft smile. Monika, clipboard in hand, stood off to the side making sure the fireworks spelled everything correctly. Hero handed David a celebratory cupcake with a perfectly frosted “100” on it. Gojo was already drunk on soda and attention.

Before David could protest, a mic was shoved into his hands. Power and Rex Splode chanted “SPEECH! SPEECH!” at full volume while Denji launched another round of party poppers directly at the crowd. A tiny frosting-covered Sprout flinched protectively in front of Cosmo.

David sighed. “Alright. You want a speech?”

The crowd, made up of literal dozens of universes, fell uncharacteristically silent.

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore,” he said, and a few people cheered like that was inspiring. “We’ve derailed from the plot about fifty times. We scaled to gods and then immediately had group therapy. We played Roblox. We argued with Monika. We let Gojo talk.”

“I WAS RIGHT,” Gojo called out.

“You were loud,” Geto corrected.

“But through all of that… we made it to one hundred.” David smiled, and it felt like something real. “So screw the plot. Screw the rules. Let’s just enjoy this one.”

“WELL SAID!” shouted Tamaki Suoh as roses exploded behind him. Miku and Ena were already starting a music number. And thus, the celebration began.

The marshmallow stage became a dance floor. Miku sang, backed by Hermes and Odysseus on dramatic instrumentals. Metal Sonic nodded along, shoulders visibly relaxed for once. Veronica spiked the drinks. Yoru spiked them again. Makima somehow un-spiked them with a glare.

Sonic showed off spins with Amy while Knuckles and Tails tried not to crash into anyone. Zenitsu fainted. Saiki stood in the corner wishing for the sweet release of silence as Teruhashi insisted she was the center of attention. He didn't argue.

Dazai, Nikolai, and Sans were sitting in a row playing poker. All three were cheating.

Mari and Sayori danced in a circle with Yuri, who actually looked happy. Aubrey and Veronica headbanged near the speakers. Kel and Atsushi were trying to stack as many party hats as possible onto Hero’s head. Spider-Man swung from the rafters, narrowly avoiding a crash into Dandy and Astro, who were trying to set up a chocolate fountain. Yatta and Shelly somehow turned the fountain into a light show. Ginger decorated everyone's cupcakes without being asked.

Even Sprout cracked the tiniest smirk.

David sat on the grass eventually, sipping juice, surrounded by the chaos of everyone who'd become part of this weird, shapeless story. Mari leaned against his shoulder. Sayori was lying on the ground with confetti in her hair, giggling at nothing.

“You did good,” Mari said.

He nodded. “Yeah. Somehow.”

Somewhere behind him, J.D. lit something on fire again.

Monika’s Fun Facts – Chapter 100 Edition!

The number 100 in binary is 1100100. This means nothing, but it looks cool.

Miku can sing in over 20 languages. Teto cannot, but she insists she can scream in all of them.

There is no known method to remove glitter from the Hub. You have to accept it as part of your soul.

This chapter was originally titled “Therapy Round 2” before Monika hijacked it and declared it a party. You're welcome.

Dandy once planned a version of this party that included synchronized parades. Shelly vetoed it due to “emotional whiplash.”

No one knows how Looey’s head inflated into a balloon piñata mid-party. He’s fine now.

As the party started winding down, David looked around again.

“I can’t believe I forgot the plot this many times,” he muttered.

“We all did,” Monika said from beside him. “But sometimes… plot isn’t the point.”

He nodded. “…I still want to find it though.”

“Good,” she smiled. “But after dessert.”

Chapter Text

For the past month and a half, the Multiversal Hub was… slow.

No alarms. No incoming portals. No David.

It wasn’t even chaos anymore—it was just boring.

Sprout had swept the same corner of the lobby so many times it had started to shine. Gojo nearly died of boredom and tried to prank Sukuna, which ended in a temporary blackout. Monika was beginning to rewrite the entire Hub’s codebase out of spite.

Until—

BOOOOOM.

A multicolored portal exploded open in the center of the Hub’s entrance hall, blowing a wild gust of air and clearing out layers of accumulated dust in a single magical sneeze. Paper flew. Confetti followed. A half-eaten donut flew past Sayori's head.

“W-WHOA!—" Sayori squeaked, ducking as a folding chair rolled past her.

From the eye of the portal, a figure was launched.

Thud. Faceplant. Groan.

“DAVID!?” shouted at least five people at once.

David groaned, sat up, and grinned. “Surprise! I’m back!”

Monika crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Where have you been?”

“Studying,” he mumbled, brushing off glitter.

“...And binge-watching,” he admitted.

Gojo fist-bumped him from across the room. “Relatable.”

David straightened. “But it wasn’t for nothing! I brought new members!”

The portal flared.

Out stepped five figures.

Till, Ivan, Mizi, Sua, and Luka.

Till hid slightly behind Luka, sketchbook in hand. His eyes widened at the vivid, chaotic energy of the Hub.

Cosmo approached him gently. “You draw?”

Till nodded. “Yeah... I like it more than talking sometimes.”

Cosmo offered a shy smile. “I get that.”

Ivan immediately slid between them. “Till! You're standing too far from me.”

Till blinked. “Ivan, we’re fine—”

Ivan gave a friendly grin, but his eyes flickered with tension. “Just making sure.”

Mizi smiled wide. “Wow! This place is... a lot!”

Sayori bounced in place. “You’re gonna fit right in!”

Mizi laughed nervously, clutching her sleeves. “I hope so...”

Sua stood protectively by Mizi, eyeing everyone. She didn’t say much, but when Aubrey waved at her, Sua nodded slowly, stiffly returning the gesture.

Luka took one look at the gathered cast and sighed dramatically. “Ugh. I’m going to need five cups of tea and none of your opinions.”

“Sounds like you’ll get along with Dazai,” Monika muttered.

The portal flared again.

Pomni, Jax, Bubble, and Caine.

Pomni immediately fell to her knees. “I AM IN HELL. THIS IS HELL. I KNOW IT.”

David blinked. “...She’s fine.”

Jax perked up the second he saw the Hitachiin twins. “Hey! Someone with actual taste.”

Kaoru smirked. “Took long enough.”

Hikaru: “You prank people?”

Jax: “Professionally.”

The three walked off together, cackling before anyone could stop them.

Bubble floated by, glanced at Sayori, and said, “You have the eyes of someone who’s seen too much.”

Sayori blinked. “What?”

“I like you.”

Caine bowed. “Welcome to your new reality!”

“...I want a refund,” muttered Pomni.

Portal flared again.

Seong Gi-hun and Hwang In-ho.

David blinked. “That’s it?”

Suddenly, the portal shimmered strangely—and two more figures stepped out:

Cho Sang-woo. Kang Sae-byeok.

Gi-hun froze. He took a sharp breath, eyes wide. “...Sae-byeok?”

She didn’t recognize him.

Sang-woo looked away, awkward and uncomfortable. In-ho stood beside Gi-hun.

“I thought they were dead,” Gi-hun whispered.

“They are. Just not here,” In-ho replied quietly.

Monika leaned toward David. “Oops. Wrong versions.”

David looked between Gi-hun and In-ho, squinting. “Wait… are they…”

“Yaoi,” Monika whispered.

David gagged.

Around the Hub, chaos had fully returned.

Gojo challenged Luka to a dramatic staring contest.

Till, Mizi, and Ginger made cookies.

Caine tried to out-sass Nikolai. Failed.

Yoru and Power fought over who had better hair.

Bubble tried to teach Papyrus how to curse more creatively. Toriel was not pleased.

And David? David stood proudly atop a table.

“I missed this chaos.”

“Next time, tell us before you vanish for five weeks,” Monika scolded.

David grinned. “Say the thing.”

Monika sighed.

Monika Fun Facts™

1. Character Lore: Till’s sketches often contain memories he doesn't want to talk about. They're his safe space.

2. Real-life trivia: Strawberries aren’t true berries, but bananas are. Still hurts, doesn’t it?

3. Writing tip: If you don’t know what to write, just add a portal. Instant plot.

4. Multiversal Lore: Bubble was not rated E for Everyone.

5. Fun Fact: The amount of gay tension in the Hub is actively interfering with the power suppression field.

David smiled, looking over the mess of his world. “Alright... now we’re back.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, uh,” David squinted at his phone, furrowing his brow. “Why is your face... on a plushie?”

Mari turned her head mid-bite of a sugar cookie. “Huh?”

He held the screen up to her, and there it was—clear as day:

SPIRIT MARI plush — coming 7.3.25 @ 5PM PT

A low whistle came from Kel, who was upside-down on the couch. “That’s so cool. You’re, like, famous now!”

“I’ve always been famous,” Mari said proudly, dusting her hands off and smiling.

Monika peeked over David’s shoulder. “Oh my god—OMOCAT’s doing merch again. We should totally throw a launch party.”

“Why?” Basil asked.

“Because we’re in a multiversal social vacuum and this is the most exciting thing to happen all week,” she replied without missing a beat.

Within the next hour, the Hub transformed into a pastel paradise.

Teto and Sayori crafted ghost-themed paper lanterns. Ginger decorated cupcakes with adorable strawberry-shaped frosting spirits. Gojo somehow tangled himself in a massive Spirit Mari banner and needed help getting unstuck (Metal Sonic refused). Pomni sat silently next to a pile of plushies with a faint twitch in her eye. No one questioned it.

Even the Digital Circus crew got involved—Bubble made an aggressive “limited edition” sign that looked vaguely threatening, while Jax tossed plushies at unsuspecting guests from a second-floor balcony.

David, in the middle of it all, slumped over a chair. “This is ridiculous.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Mari chirped, now holding a plushie version of herself in one hand. “Honestly? They got my bangs just right.”

Sunny just nodded quietly, proud.

The Faraway gang was the most excited. Hero recorded a little promotional video on his phone (which he insisted wasn’t for social media), Aubrey hugged the plush and pretended to cry, and Kel tried to convince Mari to autograph his twice.

Basil blushed a bit when he saw the display wall. “It’s kinda weird seeing you like that... but also kinda cool.”

“Thanks,” Mari said. “You should get one.”

“I already pre-ordered.”

Meanwhile, chaos ensued in the background:

“Why is she plushified before me?!” Makima demanded, holding a plush like it personally insulted her.

“Because she’s adorable and you’re terrifying,” said Monika, sipping her soda.

Gojo pouted. “Why doesn’t he have one?” He pointed at David.

“Because,” David muttered, “I’d rather throw myself into lava than see my face mass-produced.”

Later in the evening, with streamers hanging and confetti crunching underfoot, everyone gathered for a group photo. Even the Squid Game characters—who had no clue what was happening—awkwardly held up a Spirit Mari plush and smiled.

“Everyone say plushieee~!” Sayori cheered.

Click.

Monika Fun Fact Break!

Spirit Mari has always existed in two consistent forms in the Hub: Headspace Mari and Spirit Mari—both equally real, active, and welcome!

The idea of plushifying Mari was a community joke long before it became official merch.

Monika once tried to market herself as a plush. The prototype’s eyes moved. It was scrapped.

“Honestly,” Mari said as she plopped down next to David with her plush, “I thought you’d tease me more.”

David smirked. “Nah. You look happy. I’ll allow it.”

And with that, the plush celebration glowed well into the night—with no existential dread, no surprise angst, and only minor banner-related injuries.

Just one more night in the Multiversal Hub.

Chapter Text

The lounge of the Hub buzzed with soft chatter, flickering holograms, and the occasional mechanical beep from an overworked vending machine. But the newest table—occupied by five very out-of-place young adults—was strangely quiet.

David stood nearby with crossed arms and furrowed brows, watching them cautiously.

They weren’t trouble. Yet.

The Alien Stage group sat awkwardly, their drinks mostly untouched. Till scribbled something in his notebook, Mizi hummed faintly, Ivan twirled his straw, Luka stared at the ceiling like it had answers, and Sua... well, Sua was glaring directly at David.

“You’re staring,” she said flatly.

David blinked. “So are you.”

“Yeah, but I’m better at it.”

Before he could muster a comeback, Mizi waved brightly. “Hi again! Sorry, we’re still getting used to… everything. This place is really cool though!”

“It’s not usually this dusty,” David said, scratching the back of his neck. “I was out for like two months binge-watching half of existence. Monika didn't dust.”

“Not my job,” came Monika’s disembodied voice from the ceiling.

“Noted.”

Ivan cleared his throat. “We… didn’t think it would be this easy to talk to you guys. I mean, you’re all from… everywhere.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Luka asked. “Some of you speak English, Japanese, Korean, whatever weird language Sonic speaks—”

“Sonic barely speaks,” David muttered.

Monika reappeared with a snap and a flourish. “You’re all speaking the same language thanks to the Universal Translation Chip! Installed automatically during portal entry. No grammar books necessary.”

“So that’s why I understood that goblin yelling about tomatoes,” Till mumbled without looking up from his sketchbook.

“Cosmo,” David corrected.

“Still a goblin.”

The group chuckled lightly. Even Sua looked mildly amused.

“Anyways,” David continued, taking a seat across from them, “figured now’s a good time to get to know you all better. Just… chill conversation. No talent shows. No murder tournaments. No weird pocket dimensions. Just talk.”

“...Murder tournaments?” Ivan asked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Meanwhile, across the Hub, Sayori peeked in through a glass door with her face smooshed against the window.

“Are they… bonding?” she whispered.

“They better be,” Kel muttered beside her. “David’s cleaned up like four portal misfires this week. Let the guy have a moment.”

“Till’s drawing,” Mari pointed out, standing beside them. “And David hasn’t screamed yet. I’d say it’s going well.”

From the window, they could faintly hear Luka asking, “What’s a ‘Discord mod’ and why did Jax call me one?”

Back inside:

“So what do you do here?” Sua asked suddenly.

David leaned back in his chair, letting out a tired sigh. “I run the Hub.”

Everyone blinked.

“Wait, you?” Mizi asked. “You’re like… sixteen.”

“Fifteen,” he corrected. “And I’ve been through way too much trauma for it to matter.”

“Monika doesn’t run things?” Ivan tilted his head.

“She helps,” Monika said cheerfully, appearing behind David’s chair with a clipboard. “But David handles the daily systems, conflict resolutions, logistics, training rotations, portal calibrations, admin paperwork—”

“She means I do everything,” David said dryly.

Monika leaned down and whispered (loudly), “He’s also too young for legal contracts, so I step in there. He doesn’t know that part.”

“I heard that.”

Till finally looked up. “So… why do you do it?”

David blinked. “The Hub? Because if I don’t, it falls apart. It’s like… I don’t know. A purpose? A project? A big cosmic daycare for traumatized weirdos and anime people?”

“Sounds accurate,” Luka said.

Mizi laughed. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“Are we the weirdos or the anime?” Ivan asked.

“Yes,” Sua replied.

MONIKA FUN FACT BREAK

Translation Chips don't just translate words—they adjust tone, rhythm, and even vocal emotion. That’s why you haven’t heard Jax cuss in thirty languages. Yet.

David actually tried to make a schedule to run the Hub once. It lasted three hours before the first explosion.

Till once beat Dazai in a silent staring contest. This fact is disputed by Dazai.

Sua has memorized the entire Hub layout. She says it’s “just in case.”

Ivan is writing a “How to Talk to Strangers” zine. It’s very passive-aggressive.

Luka has already started a rumor that Gojo has a second Infinity under his shirt.

Mizi made cupcakes and gave them to Sonic. He ate the wrappers.

Later, as the group dispersed for the day, David stood beside Monika in the hallway.

“They’ll fit in,” he said.

“They already do,” she replied.

David paused, glancing back at the lounge, then asked, “…Are we ever going to hit a limit for how many people the Hub can hold?”

Monika just grinned. “Only when you do.”

David groaned. “...Great.”

Chapter Text

The rec lounge smelled faintly of toasted marshmallows and burnt wires. That usually meant someone from the Amazing Digital Circus had done something.

David sighed as he stepped over a smoking toaster embedded in the floor tiles. “Okay. Who made the kitchen sentient again?”

Jax, lounging upside down on a sofa with his legs over the backrest, casually pointed at Caine. “I did nothing. I merely encouraged the chaos.”

Caine floated by, twirling an umbrella made of pixels. “And I merely gave the kitchen creative freedom! I didn’t know it would try to unionize!”

Across the room, Pomni stared at a blinking vending machine with dead eyes.

“I hate it here,” she muttered.

“You say that every day,” Sayori chirped as she handed her a juice box.

Pomni accepted it without looking. “And I’ll keep saying it until it stops being true.”

“Hey,” Mari said gently, “you didn’t even scream once today. I call that progress.”

Pomni blinked. “…Huh.”

From the ceiling duct, a faint giggling echoed before a loud thump. Bubble landed—upside down, somehow—and bounced off the couch, startling Hero.

“WHAT THE FU—!” Bubble shouted, before covering its nonexistent mouth. “Oops. Uh. Hi!”

David glared. “Bubble. Language.”

“Fucking sorry!”

Monika, without even looking up from her floating tablet, chimed in, “We’re going to start charging you per swear at this rate.”

“Joke’s on you! I don’t pay rent.”

“That’s not a flex.”

Meanwhile, the twins—Hikaru and Kaoru—had cornered Jax with smug grins.

“So,” Kaoru said, “who’s the evil twin?”

“Plot twist,” Jax replied, inspecting his nails. “I’m both.”

“Ooooh, I like him,” Hikaru grinned.

David sighed from across the room. “If they blow something up, I’m blaming Gojo.”

Gojo, lying on the floor dramatically with a popsicle in hand, tilted his head. “What did I do?”

“You exist.”

“That’s fair.”

Caine, who had been attempting to replace all the lounge cushions with oversized novelty teeth, suddenly zipped over to David.

“David! My dear walking stress fracture—”

“I’m not doing anything for you today,” David cut in, holding up a hand. “And you’re not allowed near the plumbing again.”

“Too late,” Caine said brightly. “The toilets now yodel.”

MONIKA FUN FACT BREAK

Did you know the phrase "laughter is the best medicine" dates back to biblical times? Proverbs 17:22 states, “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.”

Despite his apathy, Jax ranks third in overall observation skills in the Hub. He just doesn’t care most of the time.

Pomni once tried to hotwire a candy dispenser. She now has a permanent ban from Hub snacks. (David revoked it, but don’t tell Caine.)

Bubble once accidentally triggered the Hub's lockdown protocol by trying to “high-five the big red button.” They were very proud.

By late afternoon, the circus crew had mostly dispersed—Caine dragging Gojo into a conversation about stage lighting (“You glow, darling! But what if you glowed more?”), Jax slipping away to probably rig some unfortunate prank, and Pomni curled up next to Ginger, of all people, discussing surreal dreams.

Bubble spun in circles near the central console, singing what sounded like a bastardized version of the VeggieTales theme.

David leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Okay. Maybe they do belong here,” he muttered.

Monika floated by, her screen showing a new alert.

“You think that now,” she said. “Wait till they meet Sans.”

“...They haven’t yet?”

A loud gaster blaster noise echoed from somewhere upstairs.

“Guess that’s happening now.”

Chapter Text

The Multiversal Hub lounge was in full swing: Teruhashi bragging to an uninterested Caine, Hero handing out cookies shaped like hearts (and confusingly, one shaped like a beet), and Looey nervously backing away from a sentient mop that was trying to high-five him.

Somewhere in the chaos, David cleared his throat, clipboard in hand. “Alright. Squid Game cast. Let’s try this again—with less tension and more icebreaking.”

Gi-hun raised an eyebrow from where he sat with his arms crossed. His once-long red hair was gone now—he’d trimmed it short and black again, looking more like himself. Or maybe just closer to who he used to be. “Still calling us that?”

“You have a better name?”

“Not really,” Sae-byeok muttered nearby, arms folded. “But we’re not calamari.”

“Speak for yourself,” Denji called out. “I’m kinda craving seafood now.”

Sae-byeok shot him a look. Denji shrank into his beanbag.

Teruhashi, sipping a mango smoothie, tilted her head. “Wait... weren't there only three of you?”

“We were all here in Chapter 101,” Gi-hun said. “You were too busy trying to pitch a show to Caine.”

“I was?” Teruhashi blinked. “Oh right. I was magnificent.”

On a nearby bench, Sang-woo sat with his arms resting on his knees, saying nothing. His eyes scanned the room—not out of fear, just out of habit. Sae-byeok leaned against the wall near him, her expression unreadable as ever.

In-ho sat not far off, unmoved and quiet. Even without the Front Man mask, his presence was commanding, like someone who was always listening and judging at the same time. He wasn’t here to participate—he was here to observe.

David flipped a page on his clipboard. “Alright. I’m aware no one asked for this, but unfortunately, the Hub says every group gets a social segment. Think of it as ‘non-lethal bonding.’”

“Can’t be worse than marbles,” Gi-hun muttered.

Sae-byeok’s eyebrow twitched upward, just slightly. “Dark.”

“Not untrue,” Sang-woo said quietly.

Before David could respond, there was a soft POP! as a bubble burst in midair—and from the misty residue, Bubble dropped onto the coffee table.

“HIIII!!”

David flinched. “Why do you always do that?!”

“I dunno!” Bubble beamed. “I think I came outta the juice machine this time. Or maybe the soap dispenser.”

Sayori scooted over, smiling. “Hi, Bubble.”

Bubble blinked at the Squid Game group, eyes wide. “Whoa... you guys look serious! Is this a team meeting? Are we building a rocket? Can I ride it?!”

Gi-hun blinked slowly. “What?”

Sae-byeok looked at him. “No. No rockets.”

Bubble bounced in place. “Okie-dokie! But if we do build one, I call shotgun! Or... backseat! Or luggage compartment! Whatever’s open!”

“Who is that?” Sang-woo asked flatly.

“Just Bubble,” David muttered. “He’s mostly harmless. Until someone gives him caffeine.”

Bubble spun around, then stopped mid-twirl. “Ooh, ooh! Is it Fun Fact Time?!”

A holographic ping sounded, and sure enough, Monika appeared beside him, grinning. “You know it~!”

A pink holo-board blinked into existence:

Fun Fact 1: Squid Game was almost canceled for being “too bleak.” It went on to traumatize millions! Success!

Fun Fact 2: The symbols on the guards' masks—circle, triangle, square—indicate rank. The higher the shape, the closer you get to getting yelled at by In-ho!

In-ho didn’t move, but his gaze turned slightly colder.

Fun Fact 3: Gi-hun cut his hair and dyed it red after winning the game… but he dyed it black again later. Identity crisis speedrun!

“Accurate,” Gi-hun said with a tired shrug.

Sae-byeok took a cookie from the nearby tray. “...What is this shaped like?”

Hero leaned over. “A platypus, I think?”

“I thought it was Australia,” Pomni muttered.

“It’s a cookie,” David snapped. “Eat it or don’t.”