Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Test Tube closed her eyes as she stepped through the portal, finally ready to leave the contestant grounds behind, and ready to unwind in Hotel OJ.

She was not, however, ready to open her eyes to white walls and a cold, tiled floor.

"Uh... Fan, did OJ remodel this place?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"If he did, he remodeled it overnight. Literally. Which seems kinda weird to me," Fan replied, narrowing his eyes as he gazed around.

The room was barren—nothing but tiled floor, blank walls, and a singular steel door in front of them. "I mean, it's not too different from my lab, so I can't complain."

"Is it your lab?" Fan turned to face her with a look of bewilderment.

"No," came a new voice from directly behind them, "but you're not far off."

Test Tube's liquid dropped to a supercooled temperature as she and Fan spun around to find a familiar—and infuriating—yellow face staring back at them. One they'd expected to see only a few hours ago, in fact. "Cobs!" she cried, jumping back.

"MePhone was right?!" Fan exclaimed, taking several steps back and holding up his hands. "W-we thought it was just the—"

Cobs, who was flanked by several short, disc-shaped devices that Test Tube did not recognize, smiled at them, his glasses shining. "Yes, yes, a broken clock—or phone in this case—is right twice a day. Which, speaking of clocks, I've wasted enough time here, so I'd like to keep this short for me, and easy for you." He held out a hand. "Hand over the egg, and I won't cause you any more trouble."

Eyes widening, Test Tube's gaze darted over to Fan, who returned her look.

"W-well," he began, a nervous smile crossing his face, "funny you should mention that! Y'see—"

"We don't have it anymore," Test Tube said quickly, keeping her voice even. "It's gone."

Cobs stared at them, and Test Tube slowly became aware of the buzzing lights overhead, the hum of air in the vents, the soft beeping from a console somewhere in the back of the room, the corners of Cobs's mouth twitching as his smile grew strained. "It is, is it," he said, voice dipping ever so slightly lower. "Yes, now that you mention it, I can see it's not on your person, which is... unusual, given your previous behavior."

The meaning of the words struck Fan first. "You've been—"

"Watching your show, of course!" Cobs waved a dismissive hand. "It's trash, yes, but it holds a few key points of... interest for me, the egg being one of them. And yes, I've seen the two of you squabble like clucking hens over it, though it seems you've since made up. I've seen how possessive of it you can be, so I can't imagine you would just... abandon it."

Wincing, Fan grabbed his left wrist, shuffling his feet.

"And you, Test Tube!" Cobs went on, holding out his hands in mock praise. "You're quite the inventor, so it stands to reason you could make something to protect that little pet of yours." He leaned toward her, raising an eyebrow. "Something to grant invisibility, perhaps?"

Test Tube drew in a breath. "I have, but—"

Cobs snapped his fingers, expression abruptly deadpan, and the constructs to his sides perked up. "Search them."

Immediately Fan and Test Tube began backing away, holding up their hands. "W-woah, woah, we're not—HEY—!"

Fan's protests cut off as the constructs rushed them, one behind each of their backs to handcuff their wrists. Two more approached from the front and immediately began patting them down—a pointless task for the one in charge of Test Tube, she thought with a grimace, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Fan, however, was less lucky as the constructs thoroughly searched his paper folds.

"Hey, hands off!" he cried, kicking furiously against the robots, to no avail. When one of them snagged something, his eyes widened. "Wait, no that's mine! Give it back!"

Ignoring his cries, the robot turned around, handing Fan's smartphone to Cobs. He took it with one eyebrow raised in mild interest, only for his brow to furrow as he looked closer. "This doesn't look like one of my..." he murmured as he flipped it over, only for his eyes to widen and his hand to clench around the device.

In spite of the situation, Test Tube couldn't help feeling a spark of pride over the man's consternation. She stood as straight as she was able, grinning. "My latest invention, as you can see, is an improvement over your designs in every possible way. From the—"

"Finish searching her," Cobs snapped, glaring at her over the rims of his glasses.

"What—?" was all Test Tube could get out before one of the constructs grabbed her sides and tipped her forward. Another proceeded to reach its arms into her vial, splashing some of her liquid in the process. "Woah—woah! STOP!"

"Dump her out," Cobs commanded. "If they're hiding it anywhere, it's there."

The constructs slowly tilted her further, spilling more of her liquid to the floor. "NO! NO!" she wailed, struggling in vain to keep herself upright. "Don't spill me! I-I need that liquid in order to function!"

"I'm aware."

More of the liquid splashed to the floor. "Stop—STOP!"

"We gave them to the Shimmers!" Fan blurted out, and Test Tube shut her eyes.

Meanwhile, the constructs slowly eased her upright, and she let out a gasp, panting in relief. Even so, she felt a weight within her that caused her legs to shake.

"Go on," Cobs said.

Fan's voice was quiet and laced with guilt. "The... the egg, it—they belonged to them to begin with. They were never ours."

"The Shimmers?" Cobs repeated, and Test Tube looked up at him. His brow was furrowed in confusion, but she wasn't sure if he was just putting that on or not. It didn't help her suspicions with the way his eyes widened in apparent recognition. "Oooh, you mean the Phenomes! Yes, the egg is technically their offspring."

"'Technically?'" Test Tube muttered, eyes narrowing.

"Phenomes?" Fan repeated, looking up in bewilderment. "No, no, they told us pretty clearly they were called—"

"Yes, well, that's not important right now." Cobs waved him off, turning away to head to a console in the back of the room. "What's important is the—frankly ridiculous—claim that you made contact with them without my notice."

"To be fair, they sorta made contact with us?"

Test Tube gave Fan a look and shook her head, and he nodded back at her, expression grave. Her message understood, she turned her attention to Cobs, who was frantically typing into the console as various messages popped up on the screens. One showed yesterday's date, while the others had camera feeds fast forwarding and displaying—to her horror—multiple instances of her and the other contestants interacting, including aerial feeds of the contestant grounds.

He's been watching us, she realized, her stomach twisting. How long? Where are those cameras?

Before she could process the answers to her questions, the date on the feed shifted to today, and the events that had unfolded, including—she shuddered—a camera trained on MePhone's unmoving body.

And then the spaceship came into view.

Cobs stared at the screen. The hum of the machines and vents and lights swallowed the silence. Test Tube didn't move, didn't breathe.

An enraged snarl broke through the sounds as Cobs slammed his fists into the console, causing lights and screens to flicker before returning to normal. He spun around, glaring daggers at them. "Why didn't you inform me of this?!"

Blinking, Test Tube opened her mouth to voice her confusion before noticing one of the constructs giving a wordless shrug. No—he hadn't been looking at her or Fan.

Cobs pushed his glasses up, rubbing his eyes, teeth grit. "Yes, fine, I did tell you not to bother me while I worked on my little... project." Shutting his eyes, he pulled his hands behind his back. He then drew in a long, deep breath, and let it out in a sigh, his calm, professional demeanor returning as the air left him. "No matter, no matter. It's just... a missed opportunity. I don't like those, but..."

He opened his eyes, and this time he did look at Test Tube.

"I know how to seize an opportunity when one presents itself."

Test Tube stared back, frowning. "Whaaaat are you talking about."

"Yeah, uh, th-there's no... opportunities to be had here," Fan stammered with a wavering grin. "We obviously have nothing here for you, so we should really get back to Hotel OJ. I mean, people're probably going to be missing us soon—"

"Are you sure about that, Fan?" Cobs raised an eyebrow at him. "You went through a portal. The other contestants expect you're at the hotel. Meanwhile, everyone in the hotel wouldn't have known you were coming." Another smug grin crossed his face. "No one will notice you're missing for a long, long time."

Test Tube felt her chemical's temperature drop enough to render it a near-solid state as his words sank in. No one would be expecting them? No one would come to find them if...? Wait—

"N-no, that's not true!" she blurted out. "Microphone left before us!"

"Right, about that." Sighing, Cobs tapped something onto his watch, and two more of those disc-shaped constructs entered the room... leading a familiar figure behind them. Like them, her hands were cuffed behind her back, and she was drooped forward, looking exhausted.

“Mic?!” "Microphone?!" Fan and Test Tube cried out simultaneously. The latter felt a bolt of anger through her glass at seeing that traitor again, but... she shut her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Not like this.

At the sound of their voices, Microphone looked up, eyes wide, and immediately began struggling against her captors. She pulled against them, frantically jerking her body left and right. She successfully yanked herself away from one of the constructs, only to topple completely over as a result, landing hard on the ground.

Fan and Test Tube instinctively flinched back, wincing as they prepared for the screech of feedback, only to blink when no such sound occurred.

Meanwhile, Cobs stepped up to Mic, looming over her and glaring. "Try that again, and I'll have your feet cuffed."

"Mic, what happened?!" Fan cried. "What did they do to you?! Say something!"

Mic looked up at him, a pained expression on her face as she mouthed, "I can't."

"Yes, this one came with a handy mute function," Cobs remarked. "But we're not here to talk about her." He looked up, smirking at Test Tube. "I'd like to talk about you, Test Tube." Striding up to her, he held out Fan's phone. "This work, while... unoriginal, does show promise! So I'd like to make you an offer." He leaned in close, and she leaned back, glaring. "How about you put those skills to work, and help me with a few projects of mine?"

Test Tube's eyes widened, her jaw dropping. "Wh... wha?"

"Think about it!" Cobs exclaimed, throwing his hands out with a welcoming smile—the kind he always showed on advertisements. "I have more resources at my disposal than you could ever dream of! Think of all the things you could create!"

And she did, for about three seconds, before remembering just whom she was talking to. "You're kidding, right?" She let out a snorting laugh, encouraged when Fan joined in. "Why would I ever want to join you?"

Cobs's brow furrowed for a split second before his expression smoothed over into a calm smile. "Of course!" he said, shaking his head as he stepped around her. "Silly me, of course someone as smart as you would need a little extra incentive." And the last word was punctuated by a shing of metal.

Cobs was holding a switchblade and pointing it directly at Fan.

"WOAH!" Fan cried out, attempting to back away, only for the constructs to hold him in place while Cobs inched the knife closer. "No, no, no!"

"FAN!" Test Tube screamed. She lunged toward him, but was held back, the constructs' metal hands digging into her arms. She wasn't focused on Mic now, but judging by the metallic grinding noises behind her, Mic was also struggling. "Get away from him!"

"I would love to do that!" Cobs looked back at her with a smile, not moving the blade. "But I still need a little something from you first."

"Y-y-y-you wouldn't do this!" Fan stammered, a wavering smile crossing his face. "There's—uh, if you cut me with that, I'll just get revived! And not back here!"

"Th-that's right!" Test Tube cried. "You'll have no leverage!"

"Ah, yes." Sucking in a breath of air, Cobs glanced up at the ceiling. "I really need to take a moment to explain everything and stop getting ahead of myself." He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow. "See, I did take that into consideration. Aren't you wondering how you got here in the first place?"

"Well, we went through the portal, and..." Test Tube trailed off, looking down at the floor. Her chemical still stained it, seeping into the gaps between the tiles. "And... but... that was supposed to take us to the hotel... How did you...?"

"Glad you asked!" To her relief, Cobs stepped away from Fan in order to approach her again, though he did not put away the blade. "Thanks to a few factors, I was able to wirelessly manipulate a few of MePhone4’s abilities. Now, every portal he makes will lead straight back here."

"Factors..." Test Tube murmured, eyes narrowing as she mulled that phrase over before she looked up. "What factors?"

"I'd expect you to know that, Test Tube," Cobs said, his glasses glinting. "This is all thanks to you, after all."

"Me?!" she blurted. "How—?!"

Fan let out a short gasp before perking up. "That wire! The one Toilet brought back from here! You put it in MePhone!"

...Had gravity just increased, or were her legs suddenly not working properly?

"That's right! Thanks to that wire, I now have a more direct connection to MePhone4, and I've been making little tweaks to his features."

The meaning behind his words hit her, and her knees buckled; the constructs gripping her arms held her up. "You disabled his revival system," she said, voice distant.

"Bingo! There, I knew you were smart." Cobs elbowed her, and she wobbled.

"Wait, wait, okay," Fan said, and Cobs turned his attention to him; Test Tube still stared at the floor, which was starting to spin. "Obviously you messed with the teleportation—we're living proof of that, right?—but you haven't really... proven that we can't come back from getting killed. There's a pretty good chance you're bluffing about that. Y'know, just, heh, kinda a thing villains do."

"Oh, that's a good point, Fan," Cobs said, his voice dipping in a way that caused Test Tube to raise her head. He was stepping toward Mic, who was now desperately kicking and struggling to get away again. "I should really give you an example." A few taps on his watch directed the constructs to hold Mic still, and he raised his blade.

She barely had time to process that something had abruptly appeared in the room when the laser struck her, and her glass and liquid turned hotter, hotter, before exploding—

"STOP IT!" Test Tube cried, and Cobs paused, smirking. "Stop, we believe you!"

"You believe me!" Cobs repeated, turning to face her. "So then... do we have a deal?"

"Test Tube...!" Fan whined, and she gave him an apologetic look.

"You can't hurt them," she said, and shut her eyes.

"And your MeTags can't, either! Or... or any of your other machines!" Fan cried out, and Test Tube looked at him again. "Gotta cover the loopholes, you know? That's how they always get you."

"All right, I promise." Cobs snapped the blade shut and held up his free hand. "So long as you do what I say, I won't hurt your friends, and my machines won't, either."

Again Test Tube shut her eyes, feeling something terrible pulling inside her. "Okay." The word was rancid on her tongue. "I accept."

"Excellent!" And the next thing she knew, he was throwing his arm around her shoulders, and she tensed. His grip was stiff and awkward, like that of one unused to giving gestures of affection. "It will certainly be an interesting experience working with someone of your intelligence."

"Yeah." It felt like someone else was speaking for her. "Really... exciting."

She could feel the others' gazes on her, and glanced back. Mic was looking at her in a strange mixture of relief and guilt, while Fan's face was drawn in worry.

Cobs patted her back.

"Welcome to Meeple."