Archive of Our Own

Alan was seventeen when he created Vic. The stick figure remembers it vividly. He had stared up at the enormous figure that existed beyond his world, smiling down at him with gentle curiosity.

Vic had been wary at first. Frightened. He had scrambled into a corner, curling in on himself like a cornered animal, trying to make himself as small as possible.

The animator frowned. Then he opened the animation tools and typed a message.

[Hello!]

The words appeared before Vic.

He hesitated. His creator didn't move. Didn't force him. Didn't even reach for him. He simply waited.

Slowly, Vic crept closer. He parkoured across the screen until he reached the tool and typed back.

[Hello, who are you?]

The animator's face brightened.

[My name is Alan...]

That was the beginning of their beautiful relationship.

Vic spent four months living inside the PC. During that time, he and Alan got up to all sorts of shenanigans. They designed a house together, sparred playfully, and spent countless evenings with Alan hunched over essays while Vic secretly proofread them behind his back. They had movie nights that often ended with Alan falling asleep at his desk.

One evening, after Alan returned home and settled down to study for a quiz, Vic decided to try something.

[Hey, Mom.]

Alan immediately choked on air. [“Vic, what did you just say? What did you call me?]

[“I called you Mom. Is that wrong?]

Vic could practically see the embarrassment short-circuiting Alan's brain. His creator flailed his hands wildly.

“Oh my God! I'm a parent! I have a child!” He exclaimed dramatically. Then he paused. [But... yeah, I suppose you could call me your father…]

[Well, you did give birth to me, after all.] Vic replied with a snicker clearly teasing him.

Alan's face turned bright red. [You're not wrong] He admitted, burying his face in his hands. [ I guess I'm kind of your mother?]

Vic smiles at that, warmth blooms in his chest as they spend the rest of the night talking about life, about what Vic has been up to, about anything and everything that comes to mind.

Despite Alan being swamped with college classes, assignments, and time with his friends, they make it work. Alan always finds time for him somehow.

Still, there are moments when Vic feels the loneliness creeping in. Alan only created one stick figure, and it's him. When Alan is asleep, in class, or out with friends, the PC feels unbearably empty.

That changes when Alan turns nineteen.

It's around then that Vic discovers a path to the Outernet. Curious and eager for something beyond the confines of the computer, he ventures out and that's where he meets Mitsi and Agent.

He immediately told his parent about their meeting. Alan—his Mom, his Dad, his creator, lights up with genuine happiness. He's thrilled for him. Relieved, even.

At the same time, Alan apologizes. He admits he's sorry for not giving Vic a companion from the start, sorry that Vic spent so much time alone while he was busy with life.

Vic reassures him immediately. It doesn't matter. Alan had given him life, a home, and someone who cared about him. That was more than enough.

For the first time, Vic isn't alone anymore. He has friends, people who understand him, who laugh with him, who explore strange corners of the Outernet by his side. He still returns home to Alan every day, eager to share stories about his adventures, but now his world extends beyond the PC.

Eventually, though, Alan starts to worry. The more time Vic spends in the Outernet, the more apparent it becomes that he's building a life there. After much hesitation, Alan reluctantly agrees to let him have a house of his own.

Vic can tell Alan doesn't like the idea. Not really.

It's the same look parents get when their child talks about moving away. Proud, supportive... and a little heartbroken.

Even after moving into the Outernet, Vic visits whenever he can. Despite Alan's grumbling and occasional whining that he's spending too much time away, Vic always comes back. Because no matter how large his world becomes, the PC will always feel like home. And Alan will always be waiting for him there.

Alan is twenty years old when Akihiko Kayaba invents the NerveGear. Around the same time, Vic with the help of Mitsi and Agent establishes a small village in the Outernet and lays the foundations for what will eventually become Rocket Corp. Because he's a genius and can turn a scrap metal into something extraordinary. Invent and make things easier.

Alan is fascinated by the technology. The idea that a person's consciousness can be transferred into an avatar sounds like something straight out of science fiction. So, after saving money from his animation projects and part-time job, and finally after two years later he buys one.

Vic remembers how excited he was when Alan told him, his excitement was infectious to the point Vic was jumping in glee despite having his mood sour because of the meeting with his shareholders.

“Wait, you mean you'll actually be able to come here?”

“That’s the idea.” Alan replies, grinning from ear to ear as he arranged the headphones to hear Vic properly. “No more talking through a screen. I can visit.”

“Visit?” Vic raises his non-existent eyebrow.

“Yep.” Alan said, popping the P.

“Like... physically?” Vic fires more questions. “I'm scared of what might happen…Is it really one hundred percent safe?”

“Well, not physically.” Alan said. “But close enough. I'm gonna transfer my consciousness in an avatar. No worries Vic, this is safe, the engineers have tested it a hundred times to make sure nothing went wrong before they sell it to the market.”

“Hmmm, Okay…If you say so Dad.” Vic said.

After getting the NerveGear set up, Alan had to admit he was a little nervous about the whole thing. Not about entering a virtual world but creating an avatar.

“I'm genuinely hesitating because I'm worried I might accidentally bring them to life.” Alan said, there was a genuine concern.

Vic waved a dismissive hand. “I'll make your avatar then.”

Alan blinked. “You're making it for me?”

Vic shrugged as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course. You're coming to my world. The least I can do is help.”

Alan chooses a dark purple stick figure as his avatar and Vic draws it with glasses because Alan's eyesight is still shit without them and it's his glasses that was one of his signature looks.

When everything is finally ready and the avatar is done, Alan lays on his bed and puts on the nervegear on his head, then after activating it, the process of transferring his consciousness to the avatar that Vic drew begins.

A few moments later, the system gave him the notification that the transfer was successful. Alan squints as he temporarily gets blinded, the world around him was far brighter than he expected and the colors seemed more vivid.  

He stood still for a few seconds, allowing himself to adjust, then he looked down to his purple body examining it, before averting his gaze at Vic who was looking at him expectantly.

“Dad?” Vic asks. "How is it? There's no problem, right?”

For a moment the animator simply took everything in, the digital sky, the trees and the city in the distance.

It's surreal.

Alan smiles at his son and opens his arms wide. “No, everything's good…This is amazing, come on.“ He said warmly. "What are you waiting for? Give your old man a hug.”

Vic didn't need to be told twice and launched himself at him. Alan barely had enough time to brace before Vic slammed into him at full speed.

As a result the impact sent both of them sprawling onto the ground. They rolled across the grass in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter.

"Okay…maybe not that hard!" Alan laughed.

Vic laughs with him as they both lay on the grass smiling like idiots. 

Best day ever.

_________________

The following week, Agent and Mitsi finally got the chance to meet Alan. They were excited to meet Vic's parent face to face and were delighted when he invited them to dinner. Throughout the evening, they found Alan charming, warm, and easy to talk to, which made Vic happy. He had been hoping that his friends and Alan would get along, and seeing them connect so naturally was a relief.

Alan, in turn, thought the two of them were incredibly sweet and enjoyed spending time with them. After dinner, Vic gave Alan a tour of the facility. Their presence quickly caught the attention of the employees, who were curious about the visitor accompanying Vic. Before long, someone recognized him and informed the others that they had heard the CEO’s father was coming to the facilities to visit and that must be him.

After the tour, Alan had seen just how much Vic had accomplished. The size of the facility, the thriving company, and the respect Vic had earned from his employees all spoke volumes about how he worked hard to get where they are. 

Alan placed a hand on his son's shoulder and told him how proud he was of everything they had built. He praised Vic for pursuing his ambitions and creating something truly remarkable, assuring him that he would always support him no matter what happened.

Hearing those words meant more to Vic than he could express. The two shared a heartfelt hug before Alan reluctantly pulled away. As much as he wanted to stay longer, he still had responsibilities waiting for him in his own world. Before leaving, he promised to visit again at least once a week.

True to his word, Alan visited once a week or thrice if he was lucky to if he had more free time and didn't have anything to do. He became a regular presence at Rocket Corp's main headquarters. Sometimes he would stop by simply to steal Vic away for lunch, while other days the two would spend hours exploring Stick City together. On occasion, Mitsi and Agent would tag along as well whenever their schedules allowed, turning those outings into enjoyable adventures.

Vic should have known that fleeting joy in life would follow an inevitable despair. Still, he never could have imagined that the appearance of the Dark Lord would turn his entire world upside down.

The attack began in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day.

Alan and Vic had been walking through Stick City, each holding a corndog and enjoying one of their weekly outings. The citizens screamed in panic as the red spiders just appeared out of thin air and slaughtered the sticks one by one. 

They both drop their corndogs as they quickly move to help. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation.

Alan whips out his pencil as he draws animals that come to his mind and help the citizen run and creates distractions from the virabots. Vic contacted his men and ordered Rocket Corp's security forces to mobilize. While waiting for reinforcements, he grabbed a metal pole from a nearby construction site and wielded it as a makeshift weapon.

The two threw themselves into the fight. Back to back.

Vic smashed virabots apart with powerful swings of the metal pole, when they got close, providing support and covering Alan's blindspots, his father spams shields, more animals and mechas as a means of offense and defense against the red spiders.

Together they make a great team. 

“What are they? Where did they come from?” Vic muttered in confusion as he directed the fleeing sticks toward safety.

“Vic! There's more of them… ” Alan warned him.

Vic turned and saw exactly what he meant. More of the red spider-like creatures were emerging into the streets in a massive swarm. Even through Alan's calm demeanor, Vic could hear the concern creeping into his voice.

“Shit...” Vic cursed under his breath. “Hang on, Dad. I've already called for reinforcements.”

The two continued holding their position and helping civilians escape. Then, without warning, a scarlet stick figure descended from the sky and hurled a blazing fireball toward them.

Vic instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes from the sudden flash. Noticing this, Alan quickly sketched another shield around them. The barrier sprang to life just as the fireball struck, protecting them from the blast.

The scarlet stick figure looked amused. “Oh? A superpowered stick?”

The Dark Lord zeroes his eyes on Alan and Vic and then attacks them.

“Look out!” Vic shouted.

Both of them leaped backward as the attack slammed into the ground where they had been standing moments before. The impact cracked the street beneath them, sending debris flying

Alan immediately counterattacked. His hands moved in rapid circles as he drew eel after eel crackling with electricity, sending them surging toward Dark.

It didn't matter. The scarlet stick sliced through them effortlessly. The drawing creatures were cut apart as easily as a hot knife through butter.

“Who are you?” Alan asked. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. This stick was out of their league, they couldn't beat him. One glance at Vic told him that his son feels the same way too.

But he can't afford Vic getting hurt. He is not from this plane and no one can touch him in real life anyway. They just needed to hold until the mercenaries and Vic's men arrived here.

The scarlet stick's grin widened. “The Dark Lord.” And he flares his viraband.

The brief introduction was all the warning they got. Dark suddenly lunged at Alan.

Vic reacted instantly, darting in front of his father and swinging his pole at the Dark Lord. Dark casually sidestepped the attack. Before Vic could recover, Dark seized the opening and drove a powerful kick into his midsection. 

A sickening crack echoed through the street.

Vic was thrown several feet away, tumbling across the pavement.

“Vic!” Alan yells and tries to go after his son but Dark wouldn't let him, and continues to attack the animator relentlessly, forcing Alan to defend himself.

Alan weaved and stumbled back, frantically drawing creature after creature to protect himself. Wolves, birds, and other animals sprang to life from his pencil, rushing at their opponent.

Dark tore through them with ease. The drawn creatures barely slowed him down before they were cut apart.

On the ground, Vic groaned and coughed. He tried to push himself upright, only to cry out as a sharp burst of pain shot through his leg.

Dark's kick had broken his leg.

Breathing heavily, Vic lifted his head and looked toward Alan.

His stomach dropped.

Alan wasn't a fighter. He had power, creativity, and determination, but he lacked combat and fighting experience. Against someone like the Dark Lord, that weakness was becoming painfully obvious.

More drawn creatures charged Dark in a desperate wave and again he dispatched them all without effort.

Faster they could follow, Dark closed the distance.

“Dad!” Vic screams.

Too late.

Dark's blade drove straight through Alan's chest.

Vic's voice caught in his throat, reduced to a helpless whimper as the world seemed to stop around him.

The Dark Lord lifted Alan off the ground with the blade still embedded, holding him suspended in the air as if he weighed nothing and the animator's pencil fall from his hand.

“Dad! No! Get the fuck away from him!” Vic shouts at the top of his lungs, dragging himself across the ground. Even with his limbs badly injured, he refuses to stop trying to reach Alan.

“Vic! Don't come any closer!” Alan shouted back while he desperately tried to wrench the blade free from his chest.

“A human in a stick figure avatar, huh?” Dark says, studying him with cold curiosity. “That’s a first. I wonder what happens if I do this…”

The moment Dark smirks, dread settles in Vic’s stomach.

“No!”

Before he can reach them, Dark places a hand against the side of Alan’s head. He spreads the infection through the connection between the NerveGear and Alan’s avatar then overloads his pain receptors.

The animator cries out. 

Vic won't forget Alan's pure scream of pain and agony that tore from his mouth. It would haunt him till the end of his existence.

“DAD!” Vic screams. He keeps crawling forward, desperation driving him onward. “Please! Stop! Leave him alone!”

Dark cackles, clearly enjoying the sight of Alan struggling and twitching in pain, the scarlet stick figure pulls out the virablade out of Alan's chest and he falls to the ground, but the animator doesn't go down without a fight. He feels the adrenaline in his veins keeping him alive, With a swift motion, Alan grabs the fallen pencil…

And he strikes.

The tip of the pencil slams into Dark’s hand. Dark yelps in surprise and pain, not expecting resistance from a human. The brief distraction is all Alan needs. He pulls out the pencil and lunges again, this time aiming at Dark's viraband.

Alan successfully hits the device and it cracks hard. Dark eyes wide in disbelief and he scowls, he retaliates instantly, kicking Alan hard enough to send him tumbling across the ground.

“You!” Dark thunders, clutching his injured hand as he stares at the damaged viraband. Rage radiates from him. For a moment, it looks like he's about to rush forward and finish Alan off. 

But a shot rang in the air and Vic whipped his head and felt so relieved to see his men and the mercenaries open fire at The Dark Lord.

Hundreds of projectiles streak across the battlefield, Dark flies around to dodge them. Yet with so many stick figures converging on his position, his injuries mounting, and his control over the virabots severely disrupted by the damage to his viraband, Dark realizes the battle is no longer in his favor.

He makes the tactical decision to retreat. Dark can feel Vic's hatred stare burning in his back.

“Boss!” Agent yells, sprinting forward while continuing to fire at the Dark Lord's retreating figure.

“Don't worry about me! Go to my dad first!” Vic orders.

Agent doesn't hesitate. He pivots immediately and races toward Alan.

The animator lies motionless. For one terrible second, the world seems to stop. Agent drops to his knees and carefully scoops Alan into his arms. Nearby, one of Rocket Corp's employees helps Vic to his feet. Every movement sends pain through his battered body, but he barely notices.

All he can see is Alan.

Agent rushes over carrying him, and Vic feels as though his entire world is crumbling beneath him.

“Boss...” Agent says, worry evident in his voice. “He's not moving.”

Alan's avatar is limp in his arms, unresponsive and Vic's throat tightens.

“Help me get back to the PC.” Vic manages to say.

Agent immediately starts barking orders. Within moments, a jetski is brought over. The employees help Vic aboard while Agent carefully settles Alan In front of Vic.

Then they soar into the skies.

The wind rushes past as they tear through the passage. Vic tells Agent the coordinates to the PC, urging him to go faster.

By the time they arrive at the PC, Vic can barely think straight. And then something unexpected happens. Alan's stick-figure avatar begins to dissolve into particles of green light.

“Boss?” Agent whispers.

Neither of them understands what's happening. The avatar disappears completely.

Vic stares at Alan's real body who's standing up from his bed and struggling to remove the NerveGear. 

He limps and literally slams his hands against the screen, desperately trying to get Alan's attention. Fear crashes into him all at once as he sees the blood on his shirt as a few seconds later Alan finally gets off the nervegear, his state had Vic swore he'd kill the Dark Lord.

Alan's eyes, mouth and nose were leaking with blood. Straight out of a horror movie.

“Dad!”

Alan turns his head to look at the PC yet when his gaze lands on Vic he still smiles. A small, tired smile. The sight breaks something inside Vic.

Agent places a hand on his shoulder as Vic starts shaking.

Alan slowly and carefully walks towards the screen, while wiping the blood on his nose, he grabs the mouse and opens the animation tools.

His fingers tremble as he types.

[Sorry Vic]

The words appear one by one. Using his one bloody index finger to type.

[I love you okay]

[No!] Vic shakes his head as tears start streaming down his face. [“No, no, no, Dad, don't say that!]

[I love you too please! Don't leave me!]

Alan reads the message. His smile never fades but behind his smile there's sadness in his eyes.

Gathering the last of his strength, he clicks on Vic.

For a moment, Vic doesn't understand what Alan is doing. The animator begins to type as clicks the rename. He is giving Vic everything he can and one final gift.

Victim the H4cker.

Tears blur Vic's vision as the changes take effect. [Dad... I'm sorry...]

Alan proceeds to hand him the pencil and with that the animator's hand slips from the mouse. But before he loses consciousness, he reaches for his phone and manages to call for help, giving his location to 911 and explaining that he's bleeding. After that the phone falls from his grasp. But the line stays connected.

Vic stares at his father in horror. And Agent wraps both arms around him as Vic starts to panic, fear gripping him by the throat as he could only watch his father dying on the floor of his room.

Far away, sirens begin to sound through the phone's speaker. And for the first time in his life, Vic realizes there is nothing he can do except wait as they rush Alan to hospital trying to save him.

He hates every second of it. He kept staring and sat waiting in the PC. Every time Agent returns, he finds Vic in the exact same place.

Agent eventually offers to take him back to Rocket Corp, but Vic refuses, until he got news on Alan's condition he won't go back. Agent, having the patience of a saint, just nodded in understanding, he updates Mitsi on the situation and just brings Vic food, sits beside him as a way of saying that he wouldn't be alone on this.

Alan was twenty-two and a graduating student when the news of his death shocked the lives of everyone who knew him. The announcement spread through the university within hours. Students whispered in hallways. Professors offered condolences.

No one could quite believe it. DJ, Alan's best friend, took it the hardest. In their group chat, message after message appeared.

This isn't funny.

Someone tell me this is fake.

What the hell happened?!

Skim gently told DJ everything while he was crying his eyes out too.

Then came the realization that it was real. According to the doctors, the paramedics rushed Alan who had arrived at the hospital unconscious. He never woke up. Three days later, after exhaustive testing and observation, and the doctors trying their best to keep him alive, Alan succumbed to whatever Dark had done to him and in the end he was declared brain dead.

When the news finally reaches him, Vic doesn't react at first. He just stares. The words refuse to make sense. Vic says nothing, just stared into the distance.

Brain dead. And just like that, he's gone.

Alan's family has been informed. While Agent and Mitsi arrive moments later in the PC to find chaos.

Vic rages, thrown files, the screen cracked and apps had been smashed to the floor. The CEO of Rocket corp takes a deep breath as Vic sinks to the floor. For the first time since learning the news, he starts crying again. 

The anger burns itself out as quickly as it came. Leaving behind only the suffocating grief.

Mitsi and Agent simply hold him, crying with him and silently offering their support. Vic wouldn't know what to do without them.

Police investigated Alan's apartment thoroughly. Their reports described a disturbing scene of blood throughout the room, no foul play, no evidence of an intruder and no indication that Alan had intentionally harmed himself. They even play the recording of Alan asking the 911 for help.

They found the NerveGear and it was confiscated as evidence. Investigators quickly became interested in it. The media reported about the animator’s case and the story became viral in social media.

At first, the theory seemed unlikely…that Alan was killed by the nervegear. A redditor also noted and posted on the site that… the police describe that Alan was leaking blood from his eyes, nose and mouth when the paramedics found him, which is very strange. They concluded that they might have gotten electrocuted.

Millions of people use NerveGear technology every day without issue. But Alan's case was unlike anything they had seen before. When details leaked to the public, panic followed. Parents and people began questioning whether the technology was safe.

Users canceled their orders. Forums exploded with speculation. NerveGear sales plummeted.

The company and the creator of nervegear was eventually forced to make a public statement, promising a full investigation into whether the device had played any role in Alan's death. For two months, teams of engineers, medical experts, and cybersecurity specialists combed through every piece of evidence.

Then they found something. A virus.

Not a normal software bug, also an anomaly buried deep within Alan's NerveGear system.

The discovery made headlines overnight. Unfortunately, it answered almost nothing. But they couldn't yet prove it was responsible for Alan's death. 

Another months of investigation culminate in a press conference.

Reporters pack the room as officials, engineers, investigators present their findings, another autopsy report. Charts are displayed. Technical terminology is thrown around. Statements are carefully worded.

In the end, the conclusion is simple.

Alan Becker's death is ruled an accident.

According to the final report, a catastrophic malfunction within the NerveGear system caused an electrical surge that resulted in severe neurological damage. The virus discovered within the device may have contributed to the failure, but investigators are unable to determine its exact origin.

No foul play is found and no suspects are identified. The case is closed.

The announcement dominates headlines for weeks. Most people accept it. After all, the explanation makes sense. Tragic, but understandable.

The company who made the nervegear issues condolences and compensates Alan's family for what happened, while they also promise additional safety measures.

The media cycle eventually moves on. But not everyone is convinced.

DJ sits in front of his monitor, staring at the report with a frown. He hung out with Skim after they visited Alan's grave and headed back to his dorm. "Something is off."

Across from him, Skim raises an eyebrow. "Hmm? Why do you think so?"

DJ leans back in his chair and shrugs. "I don't know man. But the mystery around Alan's death, something about it doesn't sit right with me.”

And DJ intend to find the answers one day.

___________________

As the time went on, Vic tried to live with his grief. Mitsi and Agent supported him all through it. The first few months are the hardest. Some mornings he wakes up and instinctively checks the PC, expecting to find a message waiting for him or Alan playing video games.

What greets him is the dim world of Alan's PC, cold and devoid of life. The electrical cord was disconnected to the power outlet. 

Some days he catches himself thinking of something funny or his plans and immediately wants to tell Alan about it. And every single time, reality hits him all over again.

Alan is gone. 

In spite of that, the pencil he keeps as a keepsake reminds him that a piece of Alan was still with him and that comforts him.

Mitsi and Agent stay by his side through all of it. They never let him isolate himself completely, which he was grateful for and appreciated them. When he forgets to eat, they remind him. When he works himself to exhaustion, they drag him away from his desk. When the grief threatens to swallow him whole, they sit with him in silence until it passes.

Little by little, Vic began not to give in to self destructive habits. The pain is still there sometimes it lessens.

He knows Alan wouldn't have wanted him to spend the rest of his life drowning in misery. So he tries to be better for his friends and for himself.

One of the first things he does is build a small memorial. It's simple.

A quiet place overlooking the horizon. It's a place near a cliff and the sea, a place that he would know Alan would like. Vic visits constantly. Sometimes almost every day. He decorated the memorial of Alan's drawings. The things he likes, And at the center, a plaque bearing Alan's name.

Vic brings flowers, then he sits there for hours. Just talking. Telling Alan about his week. Complaining about paperwork, sharing Rocket Corp's newest projects and talking about Mitsi and Agent, how they took care of him.

"I miss you." That last one never changes. Vic always says that. Because he does.

He misses Alan terribly. He died way too young and too soon and that loss broke his heart. His parent should have graduated this year, pursue his passion or do anything he loves. They say time heals wounds but Vic disagrees.

So Vic becomes determined to enact his revenge on the scarlet stick figure. From that day forward, finding the Dark Lord becomes Rocket Corp's highest priority. With Alan giving him hacking powers their technological advancement was astounding.

Vic pours years of research, resources, and manpower into the hunt. He upgrades the company's surveillance systems, expands their security network, and deploys monitoring programs throughout the Outernet. Entire teams are assigned to tracking rumors, sightings, and unusual activity that might be connected to the scarlet stick figure.

If the Dark Lord is hiding somewhere in the Outernet, Vic intends to find him. No matter how long it takes. No matter how much it costs.

Every camera connected to Rocket Corp's network is updated with advanced recognition software. Every major system is integrated into a central database capable of flagging even the slightest trace of Dark's presence.

The standing order is simple. The moment the Dark Lord appears on a camera, enters a monitored network, or leaves behind a recognizable digital signature, Vic is to be notified immediately.

No exceptions. No delays.

He'll get his revenge somehow.

___________________

Alan would have been twenty-six this year.

Four years since his death. Five days later would also mark Rocket Corp's sixth anniversary.

The company had come a long way from the small organization Vic, Mitsi, and Agent had founded together. What began as a handful of friends trying to build something meaningful had grown into one of the most influential organizations in the Outernet.

For once, things were looking good.

Mitsi had planned the anniversary party months in advance. Decorations, food, guest lists, entertainment, she had handled everything with her usual enthusiasm. Employees were excited. Friends from across the Outernet had been invited. Even visitors from Newgrounds had come to celebrate.

It should have been a perfect day. Then the alarms on his wristwatch went off.

The Dark Lord showing up on their radar for the first time in four years.

Before anyone could fully process what was happening, guests from Newgrounds, along with Mitsi and Agent, were abruptly teleported back to their home.

"Mitsi!" Vic lunged forward, trying to grab her hand.

But he was a little too late. The teleportation light has swallowed her.

Vic's stomach dropped and for a moment, the room was frozen in stunned silence.

Then Vic snapped, he barked orders to activate the protocols and his commands echoed through headquarters. And personnels immediately went to work.

Vic stood motionless for a second, taking a slow breath. He could feel the anger threatening to overwhelm him. After calming down before he makes his way to the Newgrounds 

The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. The city was burning, the buildings had collapsed into the streets and the fire had stretched across entire districts.

While the smoke darkened the sky.

Then panic spread everywhere, the stick figures screamed as they fled from falling debris and destruction.

Vic raced through the devastated city, desperately searching for Mitsi and Agent while doing everything he could to help the civilians caught in the chaos.

His powers worked nonstop. With a sweep of his hand, chunks of collapsed buildings rose into the air, freeing trapped stick figures pinned beneath the rubble. Fires raging through the streets were extinguished as he erased the flames before they could spread any further. Everywhere he looked, there was destruction, crumbling structures, frightened civilians, and smoke choking the sky.

A sudden cry caught his attention.

One unfortunate stick figure was moments away from being crushed beneath a collapsing wall. Before disaster could strike, the massive slab halted in midair, suspended by Vic's powers. The civilian stared in shock as Vic gently moved the debris aside and lowered it safely to the ground.

"Get somewhere safe and leave this place!" Vic called before launching himself back into the air.

He soared above the city, eyes scanning every street and rooftop below. His heart pounded harder with every passing second. There was still no sign of Mitsi or Agent.

Then he spotted them.

Near the remains of a shattered building, Mitsi and Agent were crouched over a group of terrified children, shielding them with their own bodies. In the distance stood Dark Lord, his silhouette illuminated by the fires surrounding him. One hand glowed with destructive energy as a blazing fireball formed in his palm.

And then he launched it. The attack tore through the air directly toward them.

The moment Vic saw who had fired it, years of buried hatred surged to the surface.

The Dark Lord.

The monster who had murdered his father. His jaw clenched. Rage burned through him like wildfire.

With a furious growl, Vic accelerated forward, crossing the distance in an instant. He thrust out his hand just as the fireball reached its target.

The attack vanished. Erased from existence before it could touch Mitsi, Agent, or the children.

Agent looked up first and then Mitsi next.

"Vic!" Relief washed over both him and Mitsi as their friend landed between them and the Dark Lord.

Vic never took his eyes off Dark Lord and said. "Take the kids and get them somewhere safe. Find the portal to the Outernet!"

There was no hesitation.

Neither Agent nor Mitsi needed to be told twice. Gathering the frightened children, they immediately retreated, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the battle that was about to ensue.

The Dark Lord watched them leave before turning his attention back to Vic. For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his face.

Then he grinned.

A dangerous smile spread across Vic's face in return. Dozens of clones appeared around him. Then hundreds.

The streets, and rooftops, with identical copies of Vic, each one ready for battle. At the same time, a gleaming sword materialized in his hand, its edge shimmering with energy.

Dark Lord's grin widened. "Oh, it's you. I remember you." His slow, mocking drawl grated against Vic's ears.

"You are the son of the Creator that I killed. If I recall his name Alan Becker, was it?"

The words hit like a knife twisting into an old wound.

That bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Instead of answering, Vic tightened his grip on his sword. His eyes burned with fury.

Then he raised the blade and pointed it toward the Dark Lord. At once, every clone surged forward. Hundreds of Vic's clones charged from every direction, flooding the battlefield like a tidal wave as they descended upon the Dark Lord all at once.

Despite being overwhelmed by sheer numbers, Dark Lord proved why he was one of the most dangerous superpowered sticks alive.

Hundreds of Vic's clones descended upon him from every direction, their swords flashing as countless slashes rained down in a relentless assault. But the Dark Lord moved with frightening speed, he parried, dodged, and counterattacked with brutal efficiency. And then his Virabots surged into the battlefield at his command.

The spider swarm intercepted the clones, tearing through them with deadly precision. One after another, Vic's clones were struck down, dissolving into particles as the Virabots cut them apart. Dark Lord himself carved through entire groups of clones with sweeping strikes from his Viraband, each swing powerful enough to send several flying.

But Vic refused to let the momentum break. Every clone destroyed was immediately replaced by another. The battlefield became a chaotic blur of movement as Vic attacked from every conceivable angle trying to find any openings on Dark Lord's defenses.

A fallen skyscraper became a weapon as Vic used his powers to hurl massive chunks of debris at Dark Lord. Cracked roads split apart beneath his opponent's feet. Streetlights, abandoned vehicles, and shattered pieces of buildings were ripped from their resting places and launched into the fight.

At the same time, something flickered around Vic's hands. He began targeting the Virabots themselves. One by one, their systems glitched under his hacking abilities. Some froze in place. Others turned against their allies. A few simply shut down entirely, dropping from the ground and sky.

The Dark Lord noticed immediately. His irritation grew with every minute.

Then there's a clone lunged from behind. The Dark Lord sidestepped and destroyed it with a strike. For the first time in the battle, the Dark Lord was becoming frustrated.

The endless pressure was forcing him to divide his attention between the clones, the collapsing environment, and his malfunctioning Virabots. It wasn't enough to defeat him but it was enough to annoy him.

And that was exactly what Vic wanted. Using the opening, the real Vic shot through the swarm of clones like a missile.

Dark Lord's eyes widened slightly as he recognized the real Vic among the clones.

Their weapons collided.

Vic's sword clashed against Dark Lord's Viraband, sending a shockwave rippling through the surrounding streets. The force shattered nearby windows and blasted debris outward.

For a moment, neither of them gave ground.

Vic gritted his teeth, pouring all his strength into the clash. Rage simmered beneath the surface as he stared into the eyes of his father's murderer.

The Dark Lord had killed Alan, he had brought misery to countless others. And he stood here as if none of it mattered. He is the despicable and evil stick he had ever met.

"I will kill you." Vic growled, his voice low and trembling with emotion, hands tightened around the hilt of his sword."Even if it's the last thing I do.” 

The air around him crackled with power. "You'll pay for everything you've done. For my father. For every life you've destroyed. For every stick you've hurt." 

Vic pushed forward again, forcing the Dark Lord to brace himself against the pressure. "I'll make sure of it.”

Then the Dark Lord's grin widened. "Bring it on."

Vic immediately broke away and put some distance before His hand flashed outward. A lasso materialized in his hand and swung it at Dark, the sound of the whip tore through the air and the strike strong enough to shatter concrete and pierce through obstacles. Dark evades it easily but Vic tries not to falter and continue his assault.

Gradually, Vic began to feel it. The exhaustion deep in his body.

Using his powers for so long was taking its toll. His movements felt heavier. His breathing became uneven. Every attack demanded more effort than the last.

He couldn't keep this up. He needed to end the fight quickly.

With a burst of speed, Vic surged forward and unleashed a flurry of coordinated attacks with his clones, striking from multiple in every direction, and tried to overwhelm Dark.

He also tried different tactics, like trying to disable his powers but Dark wouldn't let him do that or he would throw fireballs just to keep the distance.

And what's worse is somehow Dark adapted to his fighting style. The longer they fought, the more accurately he anticipated Vic's attacks. Every feint, every combination, every opening Vic tried to create was met with a counter.

And Vic almost gets stabbed because he felt his movements were lagging behind. That was far too close.

Vic quickly leapt backward, putting some much-needed distance between himself and Dark as he tried to formulate his next move.

Before he could come up with a plan, two superpowered sticks came out of nowhere, one was a colored black stick and one was orange. They immediately charged at Dark without hesitation and gang up on him. It made Dark get more and more irritated. 

The black colored stick throws up four fireballs at Dark's way and At the same time, the orange stick closes the distance, diving straight into a close quarter combat. His attacks came fast and precise leaving Dark little room to breathe.

Vic stares in shock as he processes what was going on, pondering where they came from.

As if things weren't chaotic enough, four more stick figures suddenly appeared from the sides of the battlefield. Blue, Yellow, Green, and Red. The four of them were somehow carrying an absurdly oversized bazooka together. Without a word, they took aim then fired. 

“Tch.” Dark clicked his tongue in irritation while blocking and evading the barrage of strikes from the orange stick and the missiles. “Chosen and his merry band is here. Time to make my leave.” 

Chosen tries to sneak a fireball and ice again while Dark is distracted with Sec. But he dodges again. 

The odds had shifted, and for once, The scarlet stick figure wasn't interested to fight. 

With a sharp kick, he knocks Orange backward, and with that he taps the device on his wrist and releases another swarm of virabots and orders them to attack at the sticks, At the same time, Dark shoots upward into the sky. Immediately Chosen and Vic are hot on his heels.

“He's getting away!” Vic shouted

“I'm on it!” Chosen said as he hurls fireball after fireball in an attempt to bring him down. Vic followed close behind.

Using his powers, he ripped chunks of debris, shattered concrete, and loose objects from the battlefield. One after another, he hurled them toward the fleeing stick, trying to cut off his escape route.

Dark dodged everything.

As the distance between them grew, he glanced back over his shoulder.

A smug grin spread across his face. As a portal opened in front of him, he gave them a mocking little wave.“See you next time.” 

Then he dove into the portal, it whirls out and vanishes out of existence, leaving no trace.

Chosen and Vic slowed to a stop, hovering in the air as the chase came to an abrupt end. Vic breathed hard as frustration washed over him.

"Fuck," He muttered, running a hand over his face. "He got away again.”

“I'm sorry.” Vic glanced up as Chosen approached him. “I let him escape.” 

Vic shakes his head and he lets out a tired sigh. “No, it's fine. He's a slimy fucker. I'll get him next time.” 

Chosen looked unconvinced but didn't argue.

With the immediate danger gone, the rest of the group gathered. After the five stick figures, kill the remaining virabots, helping the last of the civilians evacuate and checking for anyone who might still be trapped in the damaged area.

Vic introduces himself to them, extending his hand, and Chosen introduces first, takes the offered hand and shakes it firmly, then gestures to his siblings and introduces them one by one.

Green, Blue, Yellow, Red & The Second Coming but they called him Orange.

As it turned out, Chosen and the others hadn't arrived because they were looking for Dark. They had simply been exploring the area and visiting a few new places when they stumbled upon the destruction unfolding below. After helping civilians escape, they tracked down the source of the attack and found Vic fighting Dark on his own. Chosen and Sec had immediately jumped into the fight.

They mentioned that they knew Dark because once upon a time he was once invaded and infected their PC with the virabots which they successfully fought off and Dark got a little bit of beating from Sec before chasing him off.

Vic whistles at that.

And Vic was grateful they had assisted him.

Thinking back on the battle, he wasn't sure how much longer he could have kept going. The exhaustion from overusing his powers had already begun catching up to him, and Dark had been adapting to his fighting style faster than he would have liked.

If Chosen and the others hadn't shown up when they did… Vic wasn't sure he liked where that thought ended.

He thanked Chosen and his siblings for the help, then telling them that needs to go and check his friends but not before giving them his contact info just in case Dark came back for them.

"Well, I should probably get going," He said. "I need to check on my friends and make sure they're okay.”

They all nodded.

Before leaving, he pulls out a small card containing his contact information and gives it to Chosen. “Give me a call if you guys ever need my help, or if Dark shows up let me know.” 

Chosen accepted it and glanced at the contact information before tucking it away. Then, to Vic's surprise, Chosen pulled out his own card and handed it to Vic, The CEO of Rocket Corp took it. "Same goes for you. And if you ever have the time, feel free to stop by our place."

Vic smiles. "I'll take you up on that offer.”

__________________

Thankfully, Mitsi and Agent were okay. Aside from a few scrapes, bruises, and a healthy dose of exhaustion, neither of them had suffered any serious injuries. The attack had shaken them up, but they would recover.

For the next week, things remained relatively quiet.

He heard that the Newgrounds focused on repairs, Mitsi and Agent took some well-earned time off, and Vic finally got a chance to relax.

Well, as much as someone like him could relax.

During one particularly uneventful afternoon, he found himself scrolling through his contacts before stopping on Chosen's number which he had saved prior.

After a moment's hesitation, he sent a text.

Vic

Hey. Got some free time today. Mind if I drop by and hang out for a few hours?

Fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzed. Vic blinked at the enthusiastic series of text that Chosen sent him.

Chosen

ABSOLUTELY. Dude, I was hoping you'd actually call or text someday.

Come over! We'd love to have you here.

A small smile tugged at Vic's face. A few messages later, Chosen sent him the coordinates to their home.

The information made Vic pause.

They lived inside a PC too? That was unexpected.

Following the coordinates, Vic set off shortly afterward. About thirty minutes later, he arrived. The moment he stepped through the portal into the familiar digital landscape, he was greeted by a surprisingly cozy sight.

The color gang waved at him and there's Blue who was standing proudly beside a table absolutely covered in food.

"Welcome!" Blue said. "I made food.” 

Vic looks at the food. There was enough food to feed an army. "You made all of this?"

"Yeah." Blue looked far too pleased with himself.

All Vic can say that the Color Gang is rambunctious 

Loud, energetic, and constantly talking over one another, they seemed incapable of sitting still for more than a few seconds. Red bounced around the room like he had limitless energy, Green enthusiastically launched into yapping before anyone asked for them, Yellow eagerly peppered Vic with questions, and Blue occasionally chimed in whenever the conversation became too loud to ignore.

And somehow, despite all of it, Vic found them endearing. Chosen, meanwhile, looked thoroughly accustomed to their antics.

"Alright guys, behave for a minute," He said. crossing his arms. "Vic's a guest."

The Color Gang oblige and tone down their energy. But they talk to his ear off which he didn't mind that much.

Like Vic, they lived inside a PC. Their creator, Allen, wasn't just the person who had brought them into existence, he had become their guardian as well. From everything Vic had heard, Allen had spent years looking after them, guiding them, and raising them.

It was... nice. They have the same experience. Sounds like they have a loving home too.

"Welcome to our home, Vic." Chosen said. "You can stay for as long as you like. I'll explain everything to Allen when he wakes up. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Okay. Thank you for having me, Chosen." Vic meant it.

Chosen nodded before turning his attention toward the Color Gang, who were already arguing about something.

This was his first time seeing the inside of another PC. Vic's gaze wandered across the digital landscape that represented their home. It was comfortable and lived-in, carrying the unmistakable feeling of a place where the sticks actually spent their time.

Then he looked beyond and into the room itself and it looked like a studio.

Musical instruments occupied various corners of the room. A keyboard sat near a desk, while several guitars rested against stands along one wall. Audio equipment, microphones, and cables were arranged neatly around the space, suggesting someone who used them frequently rather than as decoration.

Colorful LED lights lined the walls, casting soft glows of blue, purple, and pink throughout the room. The lighting reflected off the equipment and furniture, giving the entire space a cozy atmosphere despite the technologies scattered everywhere.

Green practically almost jumps in excitement. "Yeah! Make yourself at home Vic." He exclaimed, thrusting a fist into the air. "Then we can come up with a plan to take down the Dark Lord!"

The color gang launches into a discussion of how to beat Dark Lord and Vic couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The group continued talking while Vic just listened to their rambles and then not too long a movement caught Vic's attention. The door opened and someone stepped into the room.

The man looked half-asleep, rubbing one eye as he shuffled across the room toward the computer. His hair was slightly messy, and he wore the unmistakable expression of someone who had just crawled out of bed.

"Oh, he's awake." Chosen said as he followed his guardian's direction.

"Allen!" Red shouted, jumping up and down while waving both arms wildly, trying to get their attention. "Allen!"

The man finally looked toward the monitor. His tired expression lit up. He raised a hand and waved at them.

Wait a minute...Vic froze and his breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on the man.

No.

No way.

His eyes locked onto the human standing on the other side of the screen. The room around him seemed to fade into the background. It feels like the breath is knocked out of his lungs when the man walks in.

What the hell?

Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Some cruel trick the universe had decided to play on him?

"Vic." Chosen's voice reached him as though from far away.

Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the human.

"Vic." Chosen called again, waving a hand in front of him.

The CEO of Rocket Corp finally blinked "What?" He managed, snapping out of his thoughts.

Chosen glanced between him and gestured at Allen. "That's Allen Zamora," he said. "Our guardian."

Vic stared.

Allen Zamora.

Standing there, smiling and waving at them, was a man who looked almost identical to Alan. Identical enough that Vic's heart nearly stopped and It felt like watching a ghost haunt him.

His mind raced through explanations, long lost twin? A distant relative? A coincidence? 

Why did Allen Zamora genetically resemble Alan but a little bit older… if Alan was alive he would look exactly like Allen.

Chosen effortlessly parkoured across the desktop, leaping from icon to icon before landing on the animation program Allen was currently using.

[Allen, this is Vic…] Chosen called, gesturing toward Vic. [There's something we need to explain.]

Allen raised an eyebrow as Chosen quickly summarized everything that had happened, the battle in the Newgrounds, the Dark Lord's attack there, and how they invited Vic over here to hang out.

By the time Chosen finished, understanding had settled across Allen's face. He looked at Vic and offered him a warm smile. His fingers moved across the keyboard.

[Hello, Vic.]

Vic hesitated for only a second before replying. [Hello.]

Allen's smile widened. A moment later, another message appeared.

[You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. Just please follow some rules. I can't afford to get my computer wrecked.]

The Color Gang immediately looked sheepish, shifting awkwardly where they stood. They knew better than anyone how much accidental damage they had caused to Allen's computer over the years.

Vic couldn't help smiling. He nodded before typing back. [I understand. I'll be on my best behavior.]

He paused, then slowly typed another message.

[Though... would it be okay if I asked for something?]

Allen blinked, mildly confused. A request? After a moment, he typed back.

[Sure. If it's within my power, why not?]

Several seconds passed without a response.

Vic stared at the keyboard, his fingers hovering uncertainly above the keys. The request suddenly felt ridiculous now that he thought about it.Finally, he forced himself to type.

[Can I hug you?]

The moment the message appeared on-screen, Vic rubbed the back of his arm sheepishly.

The room fell silent. And The Color Gang stared in surprise.

Allen looked at the message for a moment before a fond smile spread across his face. [I thought you were going to ask for something else.]

A second message appeared almost immediately. [Of course you can hug me :))]

Something tight in Vic's chest loosened. Before he could second-guess himself, Allen lowered his cursor toward the desktop. The giant arrow descended until it hovered directly in front of him.

Vic jumped forward. His arms wrapped tightly around the cursor as though it were a lifeline as though letting go might somehow cause it to disappear.

No one said a word.

The Color Gang watched quietly, while Chosen observed with knowing eyes. He understood there was something deeper behind this moment.

For a long while, Vic simply held on. Then a tear slipped down his face. He quickly wiped it away before anyone could comment on it.

A few seconds later, he stepped back and composed himself.

Then he typed. [Thank you, Allen.]

Allen's reply came almost instantly. [You're welcome, Vic.]

After that, Allen opened Chrome and Discord, quickly settling into conversations with his friends while giving the stick figures some space.

The moment his attention shifted elsewhere, the Color Gang exchanged curious glances.

Red was the first to speak. "Uhm... are you okay, Vic?"

And then Sec followed up “You look sad.” 

Vic turned to face the five pairs of eyes staring at him. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah. It's just..."

He searched for the right words. "How do I explain this..." His gaze drifted toward Allen. "Allen is kind of a carbon copy of someone I lost."

The room immediately fell quiet.

“I'm sorry Vic, condolences.” Red murmurs.

"Oh." Green stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Vic's shoulder. "Aww... I'm sorry to hear that, dude."

Vic offered a weak smile. "Thank you guys. I just miss him a lot, I guess."

For a moment, nobody spoke. And then Yellow suddenly perked up. "Oh! You lived in a PC too?"

"Really?" Sec asked. "And your father looked exactly like Allen?"

"Yeah I lived in PC first before settling in the Outernet. I was created by an animator." Vic replied, nodding.

The Color Gang exchanged intrigued looks.

"And…" Vic continued "To answer to your question, yes they look awfully similar. It's almost like Allen is Alan's long-lost twin.”

The Color Gang blinked in surprise and leaned closer, even Chosen looked interested. Blue is vibrating with excitement. "Can you tell us about him?"

Then, noticing the look on Vic's face, he quickly added, "No pressure, though."

Vic considered the question for a moment before nodding. "Sure. But first… For context." He glanced around at them. "Have you guys ever heard of someone named Alan Becker?"