Chapter Text
Grey walls, grey ceiling, and a grey floor.
That's all that meets the eyes in this shitty warehouse the Syndicate were using.
Tubbo really didn't know all that much about interior design, but surely if they could afford to make such pretty vigilante outfits, they could afford a nice base to match, right?
Well, apparently not! Honestly, Tubbo was getting a headache. How the fuck was one meant to sneak around in a completely black and white building while wearing bright yellow????
He'd probably have to make a few changes to his suit when he got back home.
Tubbo threw a mini paint bomb at the nearest security camera, covering it in a bright, glittery pink. If Tubbo was being honest, it was a little painful to waste so much paint for his villain shenanigans.
Ah, yes. Right. Speaking of villain shenanigans, he should prooobably finish what he came here to do.
He ran as fast as he could to the other side of the monochrome room. It was a little difficult to steer once he had gained momentum, however, so his wrist got snagged on the edge of a axe that was stood up against the wall.
Tubbo hissed in pain and cradled his injured hand to his chest, glaring at the inanimate object as if it was capable of feeling threatened. Who the actual fuck just kept a whole ass axe on display like that???
Then again, Tommy had mentioned that the Syndicate was more dangerous than the other vigilante organisations Tubbo had encountered. Admittedly, Tubbo had a lot of respect for them. They were the one group actually trying to get rid of the villains. It just didn't help that Tubbo was a villain.
Whatever.
Tubbo didn't have time to ponder severe internal dilemmas. He had a job to do!
After shaking his wrist out to get rid of the sting, Tubbo tore a small strip of fabric from his uniform shirt to tie around his tattered wrist. He didn't want to risk DNA evidence getting anywhere.
As Tubbo wrapped the makeshift bandage around his wound, a small glint in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He spun around quickly, searching for the shimmer. After a quick scan of the area, Tubbo’s eyes landed on a USB stick. It was grey, like everything else in the godforsaken warehouse base, and had the letters SYND engraved on it in letters so small it gave Tubbo a headache. He snatched it up and ran out of the Syndicate property.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
“Tubbo! Oi, Tubbo, you fuck!”
Tubbo’s head snapped up fast enough to give him whiplash.
”Fuck you want, Jack?” He called out, rolling his eyes.
It had been almost two days since his break-into-a-top-secret-vigilante-organisation operation. Admittedly, his higher-ups made it sound a lot cooler than it actually was. The coolest thing there was the axe he got hurt on. His wrist still hurt, for fucks sake! Working as a villain didn’t really make much pay, though. While it wasn’t… ideal, to say the least, he still had a reliable second job as a barista at Kristin's Bakery.
His coworker, Jack, was looking back at him from other side of the counter. ”I’m going on a date, Tubbster. Mind doin’ this shift on your own?”
Tubbo rolled his eyes and fake-gagged. “Eughhh! Dude, I don’t wanna hear about who you’re fucking! Gross!”
Jack visibly recoiled, putting his hands up in over-exaggerated disgust. “Woah woah woah! Tubbo! Who said anything about fucking?!”
“Whateeverr, man. Yeah, I’ll take your shift.”
”Thanks, you’re a saint, kid!”
A small chuckle fell from Tubbo’s lips. He closed his eyes as he shook his head fondly at Jack’s retreating form.
Only a few minutes after Jack had left, a customer approached Tubbo.
He gave the stranger a quick once-over. They had split-dyed hair, half white and half black that covered their eyes. They were also wearing a black face mask, but with COVID and all, that was pretty normal.
What didn't seem normal to Tubbo was how this guy must have gotten in.
The stranger coughed awkwardly and Tubbo broke eye contact, realising he had been staring.
"Sorry about that. Welcome to Kristin's Bakery, what can I get for ya on this fine day?" Tubbo grinned, though his mind was still running with questions.
He didn't hear the bell on the bakery door ring, so they must've entered through the back. But why? They were literally ordering something, so clearly they weren't trying to avoid Tubbo's attention.
Ah.
They were trying to get Tubbo's attention.
Before the stranger could even blink, Tubbo shifted to the form he usually took whenever he was presenting as Nuke the villain instead of Tubbo the barista, who was decidedly less awesome. Even without his villain uniform on, his Nuke form was still different enough from his regular one that his identity would (should) stay safe.
Tubbo spun around as fast as he could, his work apron twirling around his legs as he did, until he was facing a tall-ish man in a black hoodie and jeans.
He saw the needle pierce his skin before he felt it, falling to the floor as everything went black.