Chapter Text
The Spectre can't help but be a little curious about its favorite toy now, which is 007n7 of course, you see it recently only found out that the single father actually has horns and tail, which shouldn't be surprising at all, but the thing is, what The Spectre found out is the fact that the tails and horns didn't actually come from the c00lgui at all!, in fact, it's actually biologically part of the Ex-Hacker, which made it curious about who he is
So it decided to look into his files, and went to look into Seven's parents info, and when it did, the info given to it, surprises it and gave the Spectre a devious idea, it can't help but snicker evilly thinking about it
‘Oh this is going to be FUN…’
A new day, a new ordeal—a story Seven heard every day, a mantra that had existed since the very beginning. How much time had passed since then? Days? Weeks? Years?
007 got out of bed—once just a worn-out, tattered mattress in a dilapidated, crumbling cabin, much like his life had been in the past. Now, in just a few weeks, that room had changed—from one of the most neglected cabins to a new, remodeled cabin filled with gifts, food, and comforts that even others didn’t have. There was a working fireplace, the rooms had been expanded, and even the single mattress was a larger one—I’d dare say a double bed (I wonder why they gave him that one specifically…).
The man got ready to go out; everything about him was perfect—his hair was combed and well-groomed, his clothes were clean, ironed, and well-kept, casual yet with a touch of elegance in their style. His gaze, which had previously shown fear and nervousness, was once again replaced by the calm and tranquility he used to have before arriving in that world—an impressive change, just like his interactions with his peers.
He still had doubts about the reason for his sudden change; before, he had been the outcast and excluded from the group; now, he was one of the most beloved and “important” members of the group.
It was a good change, even if the constant attention sometimes overwhelmed him.
As soon as he opened the door to the main cabin, some rushed over to him; Shedletsky and Guest were the first to arrive, smiling, sweet, and with a look that spoke volumes.
“Good morning, Sevvy!/Seven!” They both spoke in unison, almost startling Seven. The man smiled sweetly and calmly, gave a small bow, bending his torso in a polite gesture to greet them both, and then Noob and Veronica.
“Good morning, everyone. I hope you all slept well.” A sweet voice that could charm anyone near him—well, according to those who were near him.
Seven felt overwhelmed right away. The conversation was interesting, if not downright curious—he wasn’t going to deny it. It was nice to start being included in the conversations, but… all that constant attention was making him a little dizzy, something Veronica noticed.
“Seven! Maybe we should go get breakfast. You must be hungry after those rounds and ALL THIS ATTENTION,” she said, clearly emphasizing the word “attention” as a gentle rebuke to the survivors who were practically all over 007n7. The man looked up at the robot girl, nodding gently, silently thanking Vee.
Everyone backed away from Seven, except Shedletsky.
“Let me help you, dear Sevvy. I’m a protector, a guard. These fools here won’t bother you. One person versus seven crazy people—fair trade, don’t you think?” The hybrid gave a confident gesture—rooted, strong, and very self-centered. The rest were genuinely angry at the admin’s words directed at them.
“Oh! Don’t worry, Shed. I’ll be fine. Vee will take care of it.” He gestured toward the girl, who stepped in front of the ex-hacker with a gentle, protective smile directed at him.
“Exactly! I’ll protect my father myself!”
… The girl’s systems began to malfunction from embarrassment, and a wisp of smoke rose above her head. She pulled Seven along, and they walked quickly toward the dining room. Seven watched Vee, who didn’t say a word, and luckily the rest of the group was frozen in place by what Vee had said. Seven wasn’t going to deny it… Vee, in a way, reminded him of that little boy he’d raised—his son. It was adorable; they were both similar—energetic and even protective.
…
“Mr. Seven, I didn’t mean to—”
—It’s okay, relax. Even if it was a mistake, I’m flattered that you see me that way… Besides… — He moved to Vee’s right side as if the speaker were an ear. — You saved me from that whole avalanche — They both laughed softly at that little silent joke 007 had played on his teammates.
It was flattering and sweet that everyone tried to get along with him and even spend quality time together, but Seven had a social battery that always ran out. He never mentioned it to keep the others from getting “bored” of him, but that behavior remained, even if he tried to change it.
The camaraderie between them vanished in a matter of seconds when Elliot brought in a stack of plates of food for everyone (almost everyone—Vee was a robot and didn’t really eat anything).
“Good morning, Vee and Seven. Where is everyone else?” Elliot’s voice was kind, warm, and sweet—a momentary respite for Seven after the combined voices of everyone just moments before. The man let out a soft sigh. Vee said hello, and now it was his turn.
“Good morning, Elliot. The rest are… in the main room.” Her voice was shy and polite; she couldn’t forgive herself and still thought she didn’t deserve the kindness of the people around her. Elliot noticed this and smiled gently.
“I see… Well, if they’re not coming, we can start eating.” Vee noticed that, frowned; Elliot took advantage of the others’ absence. Now she understood why c00l was overprotective of Seven.
“Really? We won’t wait for the rest?” Seven’s surprised tone was audible, and her expression betrayed a hint of guilt over that comment.
“There’s plenty for everyone, don’t worry.” Elliot sat down next to him; Vee glared at him but decided not to say anything. And little by little, the survivors arrived, cursing themselves inwardly for not having managed to get a seat next to Seven. They even tried to bribe Vee to give up her seat to one of them, but she didn’t budge.
Breakfast was normal—well, if double entendres and flirting with the single dad were too normal, even though they’re stuck in hell/purgatory, I’m not judging (I’d flirt with a single dad too, ngl).
Amid all that chaos, the topic of the rounds came up—a drastic yet necessary change of pace for everyone. The bottom line was survival: avoiding the assassins and their victories, and, of course, doing everything in their power to keep that agonizing song of death from brushing against their skin every day, just to get a break from it all.
Strategies were discussed, becoming faster, more protective, and tailored to each assassin. Until a question arose that Seven never thought would come up.
“Hey, who’s going to protect Seven?” The question came straight and fast; Seven choked on his coffee, starting to cough, worrying the whole team for a few moments until Vee helped him compose himself.
The atmosphere grew tense; it was obvious who had to be there to protect Seven—the sentinels. Now, the real question was, who was going to protect him?
— …I think it’s pretty obvious,” Guest said, rising from his seat with a gentle, carefree look, yet one full of determination. “Protecting one of our own is a difficult, complicated task, full of responsibilities that must be taken seriously. Therefore, the one who must protect Seven is someone who puts everything on the line, someone who is even willing to sacrifice themselves to keep Seven safe as much as possible.” — Everyone watched Guest; the speech was charming, inspiring, hinting at the work that must lie behind it, though it was obvious that Guest was speaking of himself in order to protect Seven.
That is, until SOMEONE spoke with their characteristic smile and the chicken leg they ALWAYS held in their hand.
— Thanks for the intro, Guest! 10/10, worthy of an admin and fighter like me, though you left out a few details about me to make it more obvious. I’m not judging—in fact, I admire it. I love subtle compliments that make you seem mysterious, quick, and calm. — Guest fell silent, blinked softly, then frowned; his gaze hardened.
“What? I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about…”
“You don’t need to say it, my dear soldier and protector.” Two Time interjected, raising his dagger and resting it on his chest, as if he were clutching a crucifix instead of that dagger with which he terrorized the assassins who had to face that mad cultist. “It’s clear that your description mentioned a faithful follower of the Spawn, always vigilant and ready to prevent further blasphemy in our beloved world and in the purity of the ex-hacker’s soul.” — Guest was about to speak, but Shedletsky spoke up first, sparking a minor clash of egos between the admin and the cultist’s near-total lack of sanity, as the cultist constantly brought up his religion and the blasphemy Shedletsky’s attitude represented.
The fight began, and Seven didn’t know where to hide his face from the shame and panic of having to be the cause of a fight between those who protected the team.
—Please, this isn’t necessary…. I don’t need protection… Elliot is the one who should… —
—Exactly— Elliot stood up, and Seven let out a sigh of relief seeing that someone agreed with him and was trying to be more skeptical and calculating…
“That’s why I should go with Seven in case any of these charlatans miss their sword strike, their blow, or their dagger and make a fool of themselves before going off to make generators as if we didn’t have a robot who can’t be helped by us.” The three sentinels let out a gasp of offense and were about to refute him, but Vee agreed with Elliot.
—See? Besides, with all that, I think the case was closed with excellence. Thank you, thank you. In the next round, I’ll go with Seven. —-
—But what if they attack you? You can’t heal Seven forever; you could get hurt too, and in the end, we’ll lose two of our people. — Finally, the fourth sentinel spoke; the others were about to speak, but after a cold look from the woman, they decided not to contribute anything else or volunteer. The woman rose from her seat and walked slowly toward Seven, who carefully grasped the man’s shoulders and began to gently massage them to relax him. Elliot was pushed aside, and that left him clearly angry.
“My crystal purifies, relaxes, and protects against the fire of c00l, the poison of 1x, and the corruption of John—”
“Your HUSBAND…” Vee muttered, arms crossed, glaring coldly and angrily at Jane.
“Yes, my husband,” Jane replied gently as she massaged Seven’s shoulders and slowly stroked the shirt of the man, who was somewhat nervous and had slightly red cheeks from embarrassment. “And I can quickly stun killers; I’m the best choice to protect 007n7.”
“And me too…” Elliot remained angry, furious at being forgotten and at the fact that Jane was TOUCHING Seven (just massaging him, but even so, her hands brushed against Seven’s shoulders and even his neck).
“Yes… You too, dear.”
“J-Jane, you were married to John, weren’t you?” — Seven deigned to speak as the massages tried to become slower and more relaxing. —I don’t think he’d like to see his wife giving someone else a massage… —
Jane looked at Seven; the woman let out a soft laugh, and her hands moved slowly to Seven’s hair to play a little with his hamburger hat and silky brown hair.
“Well… Seven, you look a little stressed because of CERTAIN people… Massages are always a great solution to the media stress we usually face in a truly out-of-place environment.” She explained. The other survivors remained silent, watching Jane with obvious jealousy. “We’re friends, and I’m willing to take care of you in these kinds of situations… and besides…”
Jane looked at the rest of them and flashed another smile—sweet and delicate, yet affectionate and undeniably loving.
“My husband would love having a third person in our marriage! You’d look adorable in a wedding dress or taking care of c00l and our kids!” Seven’s cheeks quickly flushed red, making him look almost like a walking tomato after hearing that—it was direct, VERY direct. Seven didn’t believe she meant it…
Everyone was furious, jealous, and some were stunned by how direct Jane was. Seven let out a nervous laugh and wanted to hide her embarrassed face anywhere but there; for the first time, she wished the round would start over from scratch and try to forget everything that had happened.
— Hehehe… w-what a great joke, Jane, that’s so sweet of you… oh dear, don’t you guys feel hot? Hahaha… —
—(By Telamon, I wish the ground would swallow me whole…) — Seven thought as he tried to cover his face.
….
Until a loud sound echoed from the main hall, quickly changing the awkward atmosphere of breakfast.
.
The round clock reset; six hours until a new round begins. A little break courtesy of Spectre? Impossible.
But The Survivors can't exactly deny the fact that the Spectre DID do something for the clock to reset, so some of the Survivors went to the main hall to see what made the noise, while 007n7 is left alone with some other Survivors
The Survivors that went to check the room, on the floor is a dark brunette woman who is unconscious right now, Guest 1337 went close to the woman to check if she was okay, but the moment he did, he immediately noticed something about her, she looked almost like 007n7, pretty as he is they gotta admit
Guest 1337 picked up the unconscious lady, and gently put her on the couch, he then proceeded check she is okay, including any sort of injury that might be on her, only to find none, which made the war veteran breath a sigh of relief, as he then wonders what to do with the new Survivor on the couch, one of the admins suddenly showed next to him, Builderman also wanted to check on the possible new Survivor, but is immediately stunned when he immediately recognizes who the woman is
007n7 approached Builderman, curious about the reason for the man’s reaction.
He looked up cautiously at the woman, who was still unconscious. His eyes widened in shock and his breath caught in his throat at that moment, as if he were seeing a ghost.
He gazed at her with a tenderness that even some noticed; the survivors even felt jealous that their beloved would look with such tenderness at someone other than themselves.
Brown, well-groomed hair, beautiful bluish flowers placed in that hair that was so distinctive and unique to the woman, a gold wedding ring... And the serenity that Seven had once seen in a photo back in his childhood.
The moment he was able to let out a sigh, it was shaky, broken. Until he was finally able to whisper something.
—. . . M. . . Mom.—