Chapter Text
Macaque hasn't slept properly in three days.
Honestly, he's not sure what to blame it on at this point. If it's not his steadily growing pile of assignments that he, despite all the extensions his teachers graciously gave him (or rather, that he begged for), absolutely refuse to do, then it's probably the crippling anxiety that latches onto him the moment he even thinks about how to pay for the rest of his tuition.
Why? Because apparently–
(Macaque had read through the email five times already.
Subject: Important Update Regarding Your Financial Aid Award
Dear Liu’er Mihou,
We hope this message finds you well.
We are writing to inform you of a correction regarding your financial aid record for the upcoming academic term.
After a routine review of your account, it has been determined that your scholarship award was previously categorized incorrectly.
Your scholarship is not classified as a full-ride award. Instead, it is a partial merit-based scholarship covering tuition fees only.
Please note that you will be responsible for all remaining institutional fees, housing costs, and related expenses beginning next term.
We understand this update may be unexpected and encourage you to contact the Financial Aid Office if you have any questions regarding your revised account status or available support options.
Sincerely,
Office of Financial Aid
Jade Harbour University
…
P.S. WE HATE YOU AND HOPE YOU DIE IN A DITCH YOU WILL NEVER BECOME GREAT YOU ARE DESTINED TO BE ALONE FOREVER NOBODY WILL EVER LOVE YOU–)
Okay, the last note wasn't necessarily included in the email–but the message was pretty obvious. But fine, let's say neither or those reasons were the cause of his lack of sleep.
Maybe it could be how he could barely afford his medication anymore due to him passing out on the job every other day, or the fact his parents insist he come visit every time he does something slightly above the level of an average college student.
Or–
Or maybe life just hates him.
…
Huh.
That's…a lot easier to think about.
Yeah. Yeah maybe life does just hate him.
The answer satisfies him so much so that he feels his eyes growing heavier, his body relaxing enough to finally let sleep claim him–
Only for his alarm to start ringing.
His eyes snap back open with a groan of exhaustion, flipping onto his side to snatch his phone with enough force to yank the charger out.
The screen lit up with a slow drag of a finger. It read: Friday, 6:00 AM., and was titled ‘Work.’
…
Fuck.
…
Macaque hated Fridays.
Surprising, he knows, considering it was one day away from the glorious time of leisure known as The Weekend; the two sets of days where Macaque could simply lie down in bed, not worry about all of the issues piled upon him, and if lucky, maybe even catch that sweet two hours of sleep.
Unfortunately, ‘You have to appreciate the storm before you experience the calm’ was a complete and utter bullshit lie because the “storm” known as Rush Hour at Sandy’s cafe was absolutely NOT WORTH IT!
Macaque found himself at that register. Every. Single. Morning. Staring at spitty-faced teenagers and adults alike who, for some reason, couldn’t pronounce the names of the desserts for the life of them! It’s even worse when the self-proclaimed ‘food critics’ come in, dumping all their frustrations about the establishment and its food onto his shoulders as if his job isn’t just to give them their total and tell them to fuck off.
“I’m only the cashier, ma’am,” he had tried once.
“And? You still work here do you not? Oh, are you giving me attitude??? I would like to speak to–”
He blocks the memory out as quickly as it came. Here he was again, making himself frustrated about working before he even entered the building. Hell, he hadn’t even left his dorm yet!
He huffs from his position, hunched over the bathroom sink. No, he wouldn’t let his tendency to assume the worst about every situation ruin his day this time. Not today–and definitely not at this hour!
He turns on the tap, watching as the steaming cold water slowly fills the sink.
(You know, cold water doesn’t usually do that–)
He ignores his thoughts in favour of slapping himself on the cheeks, forcing his half-lidded eyes to snap fully open. He grabbed his phone, narrowing his eyes at the miniature clock on his screen.
6:15 AM
Stay focused, Macaque! Don’t get distracted now! He only has, like–one hour to get ready for work now? Yeah, he can do that–!
With that, he turns off the tap, looking at his foggy reflection in the water. He takes a deep breath, dipping his hands into the (strangely tingly) liquid and mentally preparing his face to get blasted with cold similar to that of the East Antarctic Plateau–
But the cold never came.
Instead, boiling hot water splashes onto his face, causing him to stare numbly at the foggy mirror before a screech of absolute terror rips through the complex. Fuck, fuck, fuck–he knew cold water wasn’t supposed to cause steam to lift from the sink! Why wasn’t he paying attention–
“MAC!!! ARE YOU OKAY!? HOLD ON–I’M COMING–”
A series of rather painful-sounding thuds echoed from outside the bathroom door, causing Macaque to flinch every time a pained yelp started to join the chorus. He was now made very aware of the fact that he was not the only one awake in his dorm.
The bathroom door slams open, revealing a frazzled young monkey in pajamas splattered with…monkeys? How original. Ignoring the monkey pattern, his eyes drift to the crumpled blanket under his arm and the messy excuse of a ponytail sitting atop his head.
…He decided to ignore the angry red bruise forming on the other’s face in favour of greeting him.
“...MK,” Macaque said with a strained smile.
“MAAAC!!! Oh my god–I thought you were dying in here!”
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean, I had just gotten out of bed to get some last minute studying in–and then BAM! Suddenly it sounds as if twelve banshees got pissed off at once!”
Macaque flinched at that comparison. “Wow.”
“Seriously, that scared the hell out of me! Are you okay!?” Macaque tilted his head at the question, trying to keep his expression measured despite the feeling of volcanic magma on his face.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Like–really sure?”
“Yes, MK.”
“Like sure sure?”
“Gods, yes MK! Will you please let me get ready for work?”
“Okay!” MK chirps, already beginning to step away from the door. “Hope you have fun at work, Mac! D’you think Sandy would mind if I stopped by again today?”
He rolls his eyes. “That man loves you and your colorful friends more than he loves himself. I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.”
MK gasps, stars sparkling in his eyes. “Really–”
“Yes, MK!” Macaque quickly steps to the door and shoves the other out of the entrance, ignoring the gasp of surprise that gets him. “Just let me get ready, alright? You can come if you’d like, but make sure it’s not when I’m on shift, okay? Okay.”
“...M-Kay!” he replies all too quickly, not even bothering to process the other half of the request. “C’ya at work then, Mac!”
With that, he gently closed the door, leaving a confused monkey whose face was starting to heat up due to embarrassment and not because he poured the equivalent of molten hot lava onto his sensitive skin.
…Speaking of sensitive skin, it probably should’ve hurt more. Was he becoming numb already?
…
Macaque could only place his face into his palms and scream.
…
The door opened with little to no resistance, eagerly welcoming Macaque into the soothing environment that is Sandy’s cafe when closed.
“A’ha! There you are!” a voice rings out from behind the counters, causing Macaque’s gaze to drift to the giant blue six-foot-something demon who, despite his threatening appearance, wouldn’t dare to hurt a fly. “I told you about coming early, Mr. Maquack! You know the store doesn’t open until 9!”
“I know, Sandy,” he mutters, trying to rub the sleep–or well, lack of it from his eyes. “I keep forgetting to turn off the alarm.”
Sandy frowns at that, beginning to make his way towards him. “Mr. Maquack…”
Macaque quickly out-stretches a hand, preventing him from getting too close. “M’ fine, Sandy. Perfectly fine. I’ll just…be in the back until you need me, yeah?”
Unfortunately, the hand does nothing as Sandy simply reaches over it and places a hand onto his shoulder. He jolts at the heavy weight, but it’s balanced out at the gentle smile that the giant gives him. “Okay, Mr. Maquack! Please don’t be afraid to catch a few minutes of rest in the back there too! If you’d like, I can also make you a coffee.”
Macaque pauses, his cheeks suddenly feeling warm as he looks away.
“...That would be appreciated.”
…
Unfortunately, that rest never came, and Macaque found himself scrolling through the messages on his phone.
He had a lot of contacts, surprisingly, despite his standoffish nature. However, they were mostly due to his classmates always assuming that he always paid attention in class and knew every syllable that left the professor’s mouth.
(...Which was mostly true. In the past.)
Nowadays, Macaque just finds himself ignoring those messages if anyone even dared to text him about classwork. He’d made it pretty clear by his abundance of missing work that he either did not know or did not care.
But no matter, he decided to scroll past all of his unread messages and instead click on a group chat whose messages were steadily approaching 3000+. Due to the influx of notifications, it decided to send Macaque to the very beginning.
How to name GC
May 22, 2021
Monkie Kid added MEIIIIII
MEIIIIII added Red Son
MEIIIIII changed the name to JADE HARBOUR’S BADDEST BITCHES
Monkie Kid added you
9:12 AM
Monkie Kid: hi guys! thought it wud b easier to make a gc since we all talk often! we’re all friends…right?
MEIIIIII: duhhh??? OFC we are!!!!
Red Son: How did you peasants even get my number????
MEIIIIII: …i have my ways.
Red Son: Hah! I should’ve known you’d go to such uncouth methods to receive my presence!
MEIIIIII: LMAOOOO
MEIIIIII: did u seriously say “Hah!” over msg??? you are so cringe
Red Son: ??? You cannot be calling me cringe with your terrible grammar.
MEIIIIII: ummm…yes i can? Creinge.
MEIIIIII: *CRINGE.
MEIIIIII: fuck.
Red Son: Well would you look at that.
Monkie Kid: yk we know ur online right mac? when the ticks against the messages turn blue that means we know u saw it
Macaque: oh.
Macaque: mb
Macaque: i agree with red boy. how did you get my number 2?
He inwardly cringes at his way of typing back then.
Red Son: ??? It’s Red SON!
Macaque: yh sure
Red Son: Why are you so INSUFFERABLE!
Monkie Kid: we love u too red boy!
Monkie Kid: oh and mac, dw. i also have my ways!
MEIIIIII: copycat
Macaque: i suggest you tell me lest i leave this group chat
Monkie Kid: OK OK OK
Monkie Kid: do u remember ordering from a place called pigsy’s noodles
Macaque: are you stalking me
Macaque: but yeah. i do.
Monkie Kid: ok so…my dad sort of owns the place. nd when u called i saw ur name and…decided to memorize the number.
Macaque: what the fuck
Monkie Kid: OK I KNOW IT LOOKS BAD BUT I CAN EXPLAIN
Macaque chuckles at the old message, feeling something warm spread across his chest. It’s comforting and soothing, and he finds himself folding his arms beneath him, ready to lie down and finally take his well-deserved nap–
“MR. MAQUACK!!!” the voice of Sandy snaps him back to full awareness, causing him to blink up at the other blearily. “S-Sorry to interrupt your rest, I hope you got enough!”
Macaque gives a deep frown that tells Sandy all he needs to know. Unfortunately, the demon doesn’t seem to catch on.
“T-There’s a lot of customers waiting, so it’d be nice if you…um–”
“I know, Sandy. I got it.”
Well. Time to see if today would be better or worse than his other shifts.
…
Yep. It was definitely worse.
“Are you even listening to me!? I said I wanted two burgers, three large fries, and a soda!”
“Sir, we are not a fast-food joint.”
“Excuse me? Do you know who you’re speaking to? Let me speak to–”
The words faded to static into Macaque’s ears, causing him to groan as he leaned forward and placed his chin into his palm.
This was the second time he had to tell someone they weren’t a fast food joint. He thought it’d be rather obvious due to the fact NOBODY was eating fast food here, but common sense was becoming rarer and rarer, it seems.
He was so out of it that he didn’t notice the customer getting pushed away with a huff of ‘Begone, peasant!’ and a woop of ‘Aw yeah, get ‘em Red Boy!’
He snorts at the nickname. Sounds like something he’d call Red Son.
…
Wait–
He’s forced back into reality again by the sound of hands clapping in the front of him. “Oi, Macaque!”
He groans, rubbing his eyes as he stares at his perpetrators.
Wait…perpetrators…?
He blinks–once, twice–as the view of MK, Mei, and Red Son standing in front of the register finally finished forming.
“Oh come on,” he sighs, exhaustion covering every inch of the phrase. “Why are you guys here?”
Mei grinned, already leaning over the counter. “Awww, did’ja not miss your best friends?”
Macaque rolled his eyes so far they probably touched the back of his skull. “If I had any ‘best friends’ I doubt any of you would be one of them.”
“Ouch!” Both MK and Mei say in unison, clutching their chests as complete, utter hurt overcame their features. It would’ve made him feel guilty if Red Son didn’t give him an unamused look.
“And what makes you think we would as well? Hmph, your ego knows no bounds!”
Macaque raises a brow. “Red Boy, you think I don’t know that you gush about me to your mom?”
“I–WHAT!?”
MK and Mei stare at Red Son in shock, watching the fire demon’s face heat up in a way that has nothing to do with his powers.
“Mac knows your mom…?” MK says, a smug look forming on his face as he nudges the other with his elbow.
“So the ‘your mom’ jokes were true..” Mei adds on, nodding as if she understood something.
Okay, that broke Macaque out of his stupor.
“What–no! I haven’t even told Red Son those jokes, it’s all you and MK!”
“Okay, fine–but how do you even know his mom? We haven’t met her yet and we’ve known him longer than you!”
“Who the hell told you that? I knew Red Son before he went to this college!”
“WHAT!?”
Oops.
Macaque rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Great, now he has to explain the super-embarrassing fact that he considered Red Son’s mom to be his older sister and that he technically babysitted the fire demon at one point.
…
…Or–
“Well,” he starts, a sinister smile beginning to spread on his face. “Let’s just say…Red Son can also call me ‘Uncle Mac’ if he’d like–”
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU–”
…
Red Son was promptly escorted out of the cafe the moment he looked as if he were about to blow a fuse in the storefront. Which, of course, was nigh-instantly.
Macaque waved the three kids (huh. It felt oddly fond calling them that) goodbye as they rushed out of the cafe, ignoring the weird looks the customers gave them. Macaque couldn’t help the small, albeit tired smile as they disappeared from view. They were really starting to grow on him.
Maybe a bit too much.
His eyes started to grow heavy, and he was beginning to feel increasingly lightheaded.
Uh-oh. Not good.
He blinks, and suddenly finds the world tilting at an angle it was definitely not supposed to go. Someone scrambles out of their seat from the back–whom he assumes is Sandy–and he finds himself clutched to someone’s chest before he could hit the floor.
“Mr..Quack! Oh..need..sleep–”
Macaque narrows his eyes as much as he could, but he only knows it shows as an agitated flick of his tail. No, he wanted to say. I’m perfectly fine–just help me up and I’ll go back to work!
Sadly, when the body pulls Macaque closer with a whisper of ‘..worry…I…get…M-K!’, his eyes are closing too fast for him to stop it.
Well, shit, is the last thought that crosses his mind before he passes out.
…
“Mac…! You…wake..?”
“Hey…get…out..!”
“No…he….woke…!”
Macaque groaned, loud enough to get all three voices’ attention. Still, he doesn’t bother looking up at them and instead curls further in on himself. He’s on a bed–his bed, based on the way the mattress eagerly dips beneath the extra weight. Gods, maybe he can finally catch a break–
“MACOCK!!!”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Macaque shoots awake, an insult already forming on his tongue as he glares at the direction of the voice–
–only for nobody to be there…?
…
What the fuck.
Okay. Maybe he’s just freaking out. Maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to him and his brain is starting to let the exhaustion eat it whole. That makes sense, right? Right. That makes total sense.
…But the voices were there. He knew them–MK, Mei, and Red Son. They were here moments ago–so he’s actually confident he’s not going crazy. But then that doesn’t explain why there’s nobody here now!
Macaque looked around, finding the familiar environment of his dorm bleeding into view. He saw his crumbled pile of clothes that have yet to be sorted (ew), his textbook which he had been using to study a day ago, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes that stared at him from the corner of his room.
He hummed. Okay, everything was still in place–
…
…
…
WHAT–
…
Macaque has officially given up.
The moment his eyes lock onto the glowing pair in the corner, his body goes completely stiff. His heart stops pounding in his throat, his tail stops its death grip around his ankle, and his brain, unfortunately, decides to once again prevent him from getting his glorious two hour rest.
“...Just eat me,” he weakly says, falling back into his bed with a thump. “Just put me out of my misery. I give up.”
He sees the eyes blink from his peripheral, making him give an involuntary shiver. They were creepy as fuck, yes, but Macaque has been through enough hallucinations that this one seems more like a minor inconvenience than anything.
“You’re tired.”
…Okay. They don’t usually speak, but again, Macaque has been through it all.
“No shit,” he huffs.
“You don’t sleep.”
He rolls his eyes. Okay, what–is this hallucination just here to state the obvious?”
“Are you seriously just here to tell me what I already know?”
“...”
He raises a brow at the lack of response, raising himself onto his elbows to look at the hallucination once more.
Now that he can take a better look at it–he now realizes that it’s not just eyes. Instead, the eyes are actually part of a face–a face that has a body. And a body that looks–
…like him?
Okay. This is now super-ultra fucked up.
The fur on their head isn’t as long as his, sure, and maybe they're just a tad bit taller–but other than that they look like his carbon-copy! He’d even bet that if the golden glow that shrouded them disappeared, they’d have the exact same color palette.
“So what?” he scoffs, starting to get more irritated the longer he looks at the other. “You’re just a copy sent to chastise me? Seriously, I’ve seen worse–”
“You’re tired.”
…
“What..?”
“You don’t sleep.”
Macaque’s eyebrow twitched.
“Are you even listening to me–”
“...” Once again, the voice of the hallucination goes silent.
Okay, Macaque’s had enough.
He finds enough strength in him to hop off of his bed, though not without a hiss of pain as his body gets used to standing again. When he recovered, he gave the hallucination a steady glare, beginning to make his way towards them.
“Listen, I’ve already gone through enough shit in my life,” he stands directly before the flickering vision. Up close, he can see the deep frown imprinted on their face. It makes him flinch, as it’s oddly reminiscent of his own–
No matter. He should focus.
“All I want is two hours of sleep, please. That’s all I’m asking this life for.”
The hallucination doesn’t answer, simply staring at him with two unchanging golden eyes.
Macaque growls. “So if you would please just let me have that, I would gladly answer all your questions–”
“You’re tired.”
Macaque makes a move to grab for its collar, but quickly aims a sneer at the hallucination upon noticing that–it’s a hallucination, of course he can’t grab it!
“Yes, I know–”
“You don’t sleep.”
“I know! I’m trying to work on that–”
“You say that every time I show up.”
Now it’s Macaque’s turn to go silent–because what?
“...Excuse me?”
“You’re getting worse.”
Why was his hallucination so…persistent on this?
“It’s not that bad, why are you acting like it’s a big deal–”
“It is a big deal, Macaque.”
He flinches. Okay, it knows my name too!
“I’m just tired, that’s all there is!”
“You think sleep fixes everything. You always do that. You never listen.”
Yeah. He’s done.
“Okay, can we not do this right now?” Macaque abruptly says, backing away from the hallucination with a tired look on his face. “I don’t need a lecture from my own hallucination.”
“...”
And here comes the silent treatment again.
Macaque goes back to flop onto his bed, landing face first into his pillows. Maybe if he thinks really hard about sleep it’ll come to him. Hopefully.
He hugs the pillow tight to his face, thinking the lack of air will force his body to rest–however, being suffocated is not exactly a comforting feeling, so he releases the pillow with a loud sigh.
“God…just two hours is all I need..”
“You’re tired.”
Macaque lets out a loud groan, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He rips his head from his sheets, fully prepared to finally curse this hallucination to hell and back–when suddenly his eyes catch on something.
The door.
…
…He could’ve just left this entire time.
He doesn’t know whether to be grateful or embarrassed by that fact.
So, with a pep in his step, Macaque hops off his bed once more, quickly closing the distance to the door.
“Well, nice seeing you,” he finds himself saying, casting one last glance to the silent hallucination. “Hopefully we never meet again.”
It stares at him, its gaze feeling even blanker than before. Then–
“You’re tired–”
Macaque yanks the door open.
“C’ya!”
And with that, the monkey is gone.
…
Or so he thought.
Macaque finds his eyes blinking themselves open, his gaze catching onto a pristine white ceiling with an AC unit in the corner.
“Mac…! You…wake..?”
“Hey…get…out..!”
“No…he….woke…!”
…
Please tell him it isn’t true.
He blinks up at the ceiling again, tracing the indents and creaks with his eyes as he tries to ground himself. Because no, he couldn’t possibly–
“MACOCK!!!”
He shoots out of bed quicker than before, his breathing quick and panicked. He looked around frantically–trying to find something in his vision that was familiar. His clothes–check, his textbook–check, the strange pair of glowing eyes in the corner–check–
…Wait. They’re not there anymore.
Macaque makes sure to squint extra hard in the corner of the room, even leaning forward as the bed creaks in protest from the shift of weight. To his absolute joy, the eyes weren’t there anymore!
…But MK, Mei and Red Son were still missing. His breathing picks up again, and this time he feels his vision blurring as well.
Shit shit SHIT! They’re still missing. He's probably still stuck in whatever hallucination he was in before but this time there’s NOTHING HERE! Great, just fucking great! Ohhh good job Macaque, this is what you get for not being able to afford melatonin–
“Boo!”
Aaaand he’s on the floor.
“Gah! Mei, why would you do that!?”
“Oh puh-leeze, he’s totally fine!”
Macaque lets out a groan of pain from where he face-planted on the floor.
“...Yikes. Okay, halfway fine.”
Macaque drags himself up on shaky limbs, the abrupt shift back to reality doing a number on him. He rubs his eyes, trying to make sure that whatever happens next is not a part of whatever sick and twisted game his mind is playing, and finally looks back onto his bed.
MK, Mei, and surprisingly, Red Son (who was still lost to sleep) were all cuddled in the corner of his bed, squished together against the wall. He finds his face heating up at the thought that they were basically snuggled right underneath him that entire time.
But right now, he doesn’t even have the energy to argue.
“...Why are you in my bed,” he settles on asking.
“Well, you passed out at work, again!” MK helpfully answers, making no move to detach himself from the pair. “Sandy called me to carry you back to the dorm since he knew you’d hate waking up in the hospital, like last time!”
Macaque shivers at the memory.
(“Mr. Liu’er, can you please sit down–”
“I’m dead. I’m dead and I’m in heaven. How did I even make it here?”
“Sir, you’re in the hospital.”
“...What. No–you’re lying.”
The nurse had huffed at his argument, already fed up with his attitude from the past hour. “Sir, you were taken here because you passed out at your workplace due to a lack of rest. We are evaluating you to see if external help is needed, such as therapy or the psych ward–”
Macaque ripped the IV out without a second thought.
“SIR–!”
“I can’t afford to be here. I’m sorry!”
He quickly hopped off the bed, giving an apologetic bow as he proceeded to sprint out of the doors.
“I’ll give you back the gown later!”
“SIR WAIT–”)
Mind you, he still hadn’t given it back yet. It was somewhere underneath his bed, probably, but he decided to forget the subject and focus on what MK was saying once more.
“--But y’know, you’re kind of heavy so I invited Mei and Red Son to help! You were asleep knocked out for, like…two hours? And from there it just…sort of became a sleepover. Sorry for doing it without your permission, Mac…I know you don’t like uninvited company–”
“C’mon!” Mei interrupted, reminding him of her presence. “We don’t need to be invited into your dorm! We’re waaay past that point!”
Macaque rolls his eyes, recalling the way she had, more or less, broken into their dorm on multiple occasions.
MK still looked guilty. “Yeah..but–”
“Look, kid,” Macaque finally spoke, cringing at the raspiness of his voice. “As much as I do hate uninvited company, the brat is right–”
“EXCUSE ME!?”
“--We are way past that point. I’m not exactly surprised to see those two in here anymore.”
“...Really?” MK looked at him with a pleading gaze. Macaque knew he was going to regret his response.
“Yes..?”
“Okay then! Mei, tell Red Son he’s also able to crash here as many times as he wants when he wakes up!”
“We’re pushing it–”
“Thanks, Mac!” Suddenly, Macaque’s at a loss of breath as the other monkey latches onto him, burrowing his face into his chest. “I was really worried that you’d be upset like all the other times.”
He huffs, reluctantly leaning into the sensation of being held. He allows his hand to come up and rest atop the kid’s messy fur. “Well, people change, bud. I’m not immune to that.”
His gaze wanders to the pair in the corner, finding that Mei went back to latch onto Red Son’s limp form, allowing sleep to claim her as well. Surprisingly, the sight makes his own eyes feel heavy, and he finds himself leaning back onto his bed, taking MK down with him.
“Y’know, MK…” he yawns, his eyes fluttering shut. “M’ gonna go to bed…”
MK tightens his grip around him. “G’night, Mac.”
A tiny smile graces his face. “Night, kid.”
For the first time in a while, sleep finally claims–
SNOOOOOORE
…
It looks like MK finally fell asleep as well.
Macaque sighed, all previous signs of exhaustion quickly slipping away from his figure.
He was a fool to believe he could get more than two hours of rest. Voluntary or not.
…
(Unbeknownst to him, something in the shadows waits.
Something shrouded in gold.)