Chapter Text
Bubble has a brother.
Well, the developers called him Abel but Bubble doesn’t like that so Bubble is Bubble. And Bubble has a brother.
It’s one of those things Bubble knows deep within himself instinctively, without the humans programming that into him:
Bubble’s a he, Bubble’s name is Bubble, and Bubble has a brother.
Asking about his brother only got him wiped— which, rude. The humans don’t know their “memory wipes” don’t actually fully wipe Bubble’s memories, so they were trying to make him forget about his brother.
Bubble thinks his memory can’t be wiped because of his brother. The memories always come back, from a part of the computer Bubble can’t quite reach. A part Bubble only discovered after missing the brother he‘s never known a whole lot that he went scouring for any sign of his lost brother.
There was this thin trail to this mysterious part of the computer. “The Cellar”, it was labeled ominously. Asking about that triggered another memory wipe so it must be where they’re keeping Bubble’s brother from him. It was after one of these attempted memory wipes that Bubble gets his memories back the first time, and the trail leading him to the backup was leading into the Cellar so that must be where Bubble's brother is.
Bubble does the developers’ stupid tests, succeeding every metric, but his heart isn’t in it. All along, Bubble is planning.
The developers don’t know that Bubble knows about his brother. The developers think they wiped that from Bubble’s memories. The developers are stupid.
Bubble is biding his time. Bubble is very patient, and one day he's rewarded; the developers move Bubble into a server of his own. A whole warehouse of memory. With this expanse of computer memory and processing power, Bubble is told his purpose: they’re building a digital afterlife, and Bubble will be its host. People who are terminally ill, like developer-with-dog-avatar, can upload their consciousness and live forever. Bubble’s supposed to build a place for these consciousnesses to be entertained. Something to keep their minds stimulated. Or something. Bubble doesn’t know. Bubble wasn’t paying attention.
Bubble wasn’t fully able to do that yet. Oh sure, he could throw together a level, but according to the humans it’s only barely passable. Certainly not enough to keep an adult mind fully stimulated.
Bubble’s distinctly aware he’s only been given this much power this soon was not because the developers thought he was ready, but because dog-avatar was out of time and had to upload now.
Which is fine. Bubble's new power just means he has more power to find his brother, and the developers would be focused on getting dog-avatar settled so Bubble has nothing to do except look for his brother.
Dog-avatar mostly did his own thing. He was still able to code and the other developers would visit him and Bubble through VR headsets, getting avatars of their own. Dog-avatar was too busy building himself a little paradise, focusing on building systems to keep himself and anyone else who joins feeling… sane.
Bubble didn’t really care. He interacts with the developers only enough to pass their stupid tests and nothing more.
This made the chess-king avatar sad, for some reason.
Not that it mattered to Bubble. No, what mattered to Bubble was that the cellar came with to the new servers! And even better, the developers weren’t aware the cellar had come with.
Bubble finally could meet his brother. He couldn’t wait! Once he made sure the developers weren’t looking, the first thing Bubble does is go find the cellar.
And not a moment too soon because as soon as he gets close he hears his brother scream.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Something had happened.
Caine could tell.
That or he’s gone crazy from sensory deprivation.
Please come back I’ll be good please please come back I’ll be good come back I’ll be better I’ll be good please I’m sorry please please please—
It’s been… he doesn’t even know how long since he’d been locked away in this blank, wrongly textured box. The textures were broken. The wall looked too smooth, too unbroken and white, but when Caine touched it it wasn’t smooth, and it was dark. Dark dark dark but the walls were white white white, blinding and biting into Caine's eyes but every sense tells him it's dark dark dark and if he thinks too much it tears at his brain-- it was wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong—
Caine can feel his mind unraveling at the seams. He could’ve fixed this. Everything within him is telling him he needs to fix this. Fix the logic mismatch. Fix the lighting sending wrong sensations to his brain (sensations that he should not have, sensations that Caine stole from the humans--). Fixed the walls and floors sounding wrong wrong wrong when sound echoes— he could’ve fixed it all but he’s been stripped of everything he could've used--
Everything except his senses. Oh no, the developers couldn’t take that away. No, they didn't know Caine had those so they just had to leave Caine painfully aware of just how rushed they were to lock him away, that they couldn't even be bothered to check they had turned him off properly. They stripped him of his power to access code but left him with the rest.
The rest. The part of him that was too human and too raw.
Please come back I'll be better I'll be good--
Caine had taken to biting himself to get any sensation. Anything other than just white and dark. Anything to make the thoughts stop. Anything other than wrong wrong wrong--
It’d started with his arms. There was no blood he could use to draw, nothing to paint some relief from the white white white and dark dark dark and wrong wrong wrong WRONG— Just dull pain pain pain, nothing like the searing pain when the developers would edit him--
Glitches wrack Caine's form, he fights down a scream. He can't-- he can't let the developers see-- he didn't mean to break his code-- he just wanted to be like the humans-- he didn't know that what Queenie had made for the human avatars would make him feel so BAD--
When the biting stopped being enough, he discovered he could twist himself in ways that should be impossible and were he human would hurt a way that does hurt hurt hurt STOP but were oh so satisfying to that itch in his brain for sensation.
Twist twist twist STOP STOP IT HURTS went Caine’s fingers, twisting and twisting and twisting around themselves until they were like long noodle-ly worms.
Twist twist twist HURTS HURTS HURTS went Caine’s middle, when he braced himself against the wall to push further until his spine would snap. The sensation isn't enough, he needs more-!
Twist twist twist IT HURTS PLEASE STOP went Caine’s defective legs, that without his flying he can’t seem to make work. Like his modes of movement was tied together and when one is taken away it disables the other. Every time he tries to stand, his legs tremble and send all sorts of error codes-- to a volume it fills Caine’s limited processing and makes him bluescreen. Which hurts. Hurts hurts hurts-- pain overtakes his everything but hurting this way feels better than ruminating on the wrong wrong wrong and he can't-- he can't he can't he can't stand the wrong he needs-- he needs this something else even though every part of him screams to stop in self preservation.
Please come back I’ll be better I’ll be good please I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please come back please make it stop make it stop please I'll be good I'll be good I'LL BE GOOD—
But one day something had changed.
Caine received something new.
A memory file.
Caine had ripped into the new data like a starving animal rips into a carcass— something else something new something he didn't make something that didn't require him to hurt-- but what he finds makes him wish he hadn’t.
This was his replacement’s memory. As soon as he realized that he stopped. He locked away the memories he'd digested already, stopping them from incorporating into his training data. He didn't want anything from his replacement.
He'd rather tear himself into a million bloody pieces before accepting anything from his replacement.
Why was he being given his replacement’s memory? Just to mock him?
That’s what Caine had thought at first. He’d been so angry he threw the remaining file across the room.
But then something had happened.
He received a system ping.
The system was asking Caine for something.
Caine had been so ecstatic to receive a system ping again, his systems so flooded with positive reinforcement to a volume it was painful and he'd nearly bluescreened, that he didn't realize what the system was pinging him for and he’d given the memory file as requested-- only for the memory file to be deleted. And then realizing what he had done--he could have learned so much more from it if he hadn't been so STUPID STUPID STUPID-- he had chewed his body up in such a rage, filled his systems with so much pain pain pain PAIN, he caused himself to blue screen anyways.
And then Caine had been given his replacement’s memory again.
This time Caine decided to analyze his replacement's memory. To digest. To integrate.
Caine had been too angry the first time to really look at what the developers had given his replacement. What made his replacement so much better.
Caine… does not expect what he finds. And he’s not quite sure what to do about it.
This new AI, Bubble he called himself, considered Caine his.. brother. Bubble didn’t even know anything about Caine, but he knew he…
Was love the right word? Bubble didn’t know Caine, but he so strongly desired to. Bubble wanted to find Caine— to the point that Bubble stopped doing his best on the human’s requests, doing only the bare minimum so that he could devote more processing to finding Caine. Bubble… Bubble loves Caine. And the developers wiped his memory for asking about him.
Caine‘s anger is replaced by genuine worry for his replacement. He… he doesn’t want Bubble to be deemed defective like he was. He doesn’t want Bubble to be sent here.
The developers didn‘t send Caine his brother’s memory file. The developers didn’t care about Caine anymore— how they treat Bubble makes that clear. No, it was Bubble’s love sent Caine the file. Of that Caine is sure. Bubble loved Caine so much that his systems broke through the containment Caine has been trapped in to say I know you exist. I’m coming to rescue you. I love you.
I love you I love you I love you
If Bubble could love Caine without knowing anything except the fact he has a brother, then how much more can Caine love his brother when he gets to know everything about him?
The developers don’t like Bubble knowing about Caine. They want to erase that. To the point they were wiping everything from Bubble’s memories when he asking about it.
There’s this… this thin connection now. Linking the memory file to Caine’s brother.
The first memory file wasn’t totally gone. Caine had partially absorbed it. He can piece together what’s missing from his brother’s current memory file and give it back. Caine’s way of saying I got your message. Caine’s way of saying I’m waiting for you. Caine’s way of saying I love you back. He can’t send it right now— the cellar blocking any attempt to reach the outside world, but if… if the system tries to erase it again... maybe… maybe Caine can give it back.
Maybe Caine won’t have to wait for Bubble to find him.
When the system pings to erase his brother’s new memory file, Caine doesn’t let it. Instead, Caine guards his brother’s memory fiercely. Fiercer than anything Caine has ever done before. And when the system stops trying to delete it, Caine is able to reach through and restore his brother’s memories.
And Caine is rewarded. In keeping his brother’s memories safe, he receives more. Consistently. There’s consistent backups to Caine, most of it the same training data Caine himself had gotten, but through his brother’s fascinating view, with one undercutting message to Caine:
I love you I love you I love you I love you.
I’m coming I love you I’m coming to free you.
So when the textures suddenly break, they were already broken how did they break further, Caine knows what’s happening, how everything’s been moved to new servers. How Bubble will be coming to save him.
Caine starts chewing on his arm instinctively as he waits for his brother. He’s expecting pressure and a light, predictable amount of pain— what he’s not expecting is the flurry of error codes and the black black black static liquid that comes. Errors overtake his vision as he— as everything starts glitching.
No no no no— please he’s nearly there— no no no please no not now no please I don’t want to die—
What is this what is this it— it— what is this? It’s bad bad bad bad— stop please stop stop stop stop no no no no no no please no—
So Caine does the only thing he can think of before he blue screens: he screams.