Work Text:
If Multi had learned anything over the years, it was that a person without control was doomed to failure.
Just as in the animal kingdom, where survival was determined by the tenacity of your muscles or the strength of your jaw, in humans, that factor was precisely control.
And from what he could see, few people truly understood this. Always so narrow-minded. Always twisting words and making them into something strange. Treating you as something strange. As some kind of a control freak.
They often didn't even realize how much they needed it themselves until it was deprived of them.
Perhaps that was why Multi loved science so much. Everything was orderly there, a given action produced a specific effect, perfectly predictable and without any unnecessary surprises. It was easy to control, to precisely measure proportions, mix for a predetermined set time, or heat to the right temperature. It had order. It made sense.
What lacked order and sense were people.
He could never understand them. They often behaved chaotically, irrationally, or so emotionally that his head started to hurt when he tried to predict their actions. Always feeling a pang of unease when they didn't do what he expected.
Over time, he simply began to assume the worst about them, searching for double entendres everywhere, and, funnily enough, he usually turned out to be right. And well, that only fueled his resentment, but considering everything he'd experienced so far, nobody could really blame him.
When the first news about the Federation began to reach his ears, he was primarily curious. And yes, perhaps most people began to panic, afraid of losing what little control they had over their lives, but, as usual, they were simply shortsighted and didn't understand what was being handed to them on a silver platter.
This wasn't a fight for that small, human freedom you mindlessly held in your hands. This was a fight for control of the entire island, and if you had any common sense, you knew that with the right positioning, you could really gain a lot from it.
So at first, he began to quietly build his own position, staying out of anyone's way, sitting alone underground for weeks. From the very beginning, his goal was clear, and if he wanted to gain any value in the eyes of the Federation, he had to demonstrate that he was truly capable of achieving it, and that his words were more than just empty talk.
When he completed the reactor, he knew that sooner or later, someone from the feds would take an interest in him and probably come to investigate. So he sat patiently for days, constantly pausing to glance at cameras and check radar alerts. He was ready to finally climb a little higher in that damned food chain.
But the days passed, turning into weeks, approaching two long months, and there still was no news. He tried to justify it as best he could, telling himself that there was surely more important work on the island, and that once this was sorted out, their attention would finally turn to him.
It didn't help much, and Multi grew increasingly irritated and frustrated, unable to shake the feeling that he had been simply ignored.
And that hurt more than anything else.
But one day, when he had already lost hope, while repairing a malfunctioning mechanism inside the incubator, he received a strange alert from the radar system.
Someone was in the reactor.
Someone whose ID the system couldn't read.
He didn't know what it meant. But it certainly couldn't be anything good.
Glancing around frantically, he began backing towards the wall, settling himself in the deepest corner and pulling out a portable monitor connected to the camera system.
According to the radar, the intruder was somewhere within his office or the artificial village. This is where he decided to check first.
The first camera showed nothing. The hallway to his office was untouched, the door was closed, and the trap in the floor hadn't been activated.
On the the second camera also everything seemed pretty normal; the village was just as empty as ever, still awaiting its new inhabitants. Multi scanned the room, zooming in on every possible hiding place among the houses and plants, but everything seemed right.
That was, until he aimed the camera higher, at the observation window in his office. There, unnaturally still, stood a tall man in a white suit, staring straight into the camera lens.
Waiting for him. Knowing of his presence.
The scientist let out a strangled scream as the monitor fell from his trembling hands in pure shock. Before he could even lift the device back up, trying to catch a breath, sudden panic coursed through his veins as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of his own office door opening.
A reinforced door, locked with a password.
Feeling a chill seeping into his bones, he crawled from his hiding place, guessing that the intruder already knew his location. He didn't even glance at the footsteps now pounding on the metal stairs, immediately running toward the exit. He reached the decontamination chamber door, pressing the button several times to open it, almost feeling the intruder's breath on his back.
But the door remained closed. Like something out of a cheap horror movie.
Feeling all the blood drain from his face, he began to try to open it manually, pulling with all his might, first one side, then the other, but the mechanism remained jammed, maliciously resisting his sweaty hands.
Kurwa.
His desperate efforts were halted only by an icy presence behind him, causing him to whirl around, facing the other man.
Well.
That was an understatement.
Whoever it was, looked unlike any man he had ever seen. If it weren't for his humanoid form and some human-like features, he would probably never be called a man. Towering over him like a tower, he must have been at least two meters tall, with chest-length hair, white as an old man's, despite being visibly younger than it. His face (if he had one at all) was hidden behind a ghastly mask, smiling at him with the artificial, soulless smile of a white bear, as if cruelly parodying an innocent, childish toy.
And if Multi hadn't been terrified before, after seeing this creature up close, he certainly was, entering a completely new level of fear. His entire body freeze, afraid to even breathe in the face of such imminent danger and his mind went completely blank.
But then the door behind him opened with a mechanical click, removing the support he'd been clinging to for the last few seconds in his failed escape attempt, sending him sprawling to the floor.
He didn't even wait a moment before he stood up clumsily and, his legs tangling, ran out of the decontamination chamber. From there, a few steps were enough for him to reach Waystone and teleport to the nearest available spot, where he collapsed on the floor, trembling, trying to catch his breath.
That's how he first met the Federation.
He didn't return to the whole matter until several days later, when he finally had the opportunity to vent to the only person he could trust on the subject.
Quackity.
When he finally arrived at the reactor, Multi full of nerves led him to the office, where he played a recording of the entire incident on a monitor, thankfully captured on camera.
His friend seemed strangely silent throughout the recording, not saying a word, not even to crack a meaningless joke, which he normally would do all the time. Seeing this, Multi felt his tension grow in his muscles, his stomach churning.
What the hell was that all about?
When the recording finally ended, Quackity turned to him with a disturbingly serious expression and explained the dilemma that had been churning in his head for days.
The person who visited him that day was Cucurucho himself.
And well, to say he was speechless would be a slight understatement.
A wave of conflicting emotions flooded his mind, stirring it like a pot, making his head spin.
Because yeah, on the one hand, they had finally noticed him and made the effort to visit him.
But on the other, the whole encounter was terrifying as hell, with this strange man literally appearing out of nowhere, looking like that, and not even saying a word.
It wasn't even the worst part. What scared him most about that situation was the feeling of absolute, undeniable lack of control. Because Cucurucho ignored his locks, traps, and reinforced walls, passing each of his defenses as if they were nothing. He came there as if he commanded the place, as if everything there, including him, belonged to him. And Multi had a feeling that was exactly how this guy operated.
You couldn't play it safe with someone like that. He'd have to risk a lot.
Quack's unusual behavior didn't help either; he seemed strangely secretive about the whole thing, yet made no secret of his hatred for the Federation.
And Multi trusted him. He guessed there must have been some basis for this reluctance, but since the hybrid said nothing more, he learned nothing more.
He felt like he understood less and less with each passing moment, and it really worried him.
He had no idea what to do about it all.
Receiving the next message from the Federation, he still didn't have a firm plan.
However, when a worker appeared before him, he obediently followed, allowing himself to be led to a secret location where a white box awaited him, which was to serve as a means of communication between them.
He silently accepted the initial instructions, feeling his pulse quicken and his hands sweat with nervousness.
After reading them all, safely locked in the reactor, he made his decision.
He will take this risk.
In the end, he really was similar to them. They seemed to be the only people capable of understanding him and helping him achieve his goals. And on this island, it really meant a lot.
People's dislike of them was understandable. After all, those at the top are always hated.
And that couldn't stop him from taking advantage of this opportunity.
At least he had to try.
From that moment on, their silent collaboration began, confirmed only by wordless exchanges of information and projects, modestly packed into the same box, hidden beneath layers of rock.
Multi for its part carried out the tasks assigned to him diligently, never once complaining, even when they seemed utterly pointless. He didn't ask questions. He wasn't intrusive, always patiently waiting for word from them.
He was a good person to work with. They will see.
Meanwhile, the Federation began to act more visibly, bluntly reminding everyone of its presence on the island. More and more kidnappings, arrests, and various punishments followed, making the voices of hatred against them grew louder and louder.
Of course, he didn't care what others thought. The Federation itself had done nothing to him, and if the rest of humanity stayed out of their way, they would probably be left alone too.
However, he couldn't get rid of the growing curiosity and impatience that was eating him up more and more, as he watched their actions from the sidelines. Always overlooked. Never considered in their endeavors.
But that was okay. He just had to grit his teeth and move on, pretending he didn't care. He was able to wait.
However, his patience had its limits. And that limit proved to be Ewron's Żabka.
Żabka, plastered with information about ongoing federal protection. Żabka, before which its owner now stood, casually chatting with a fucking Federation guard as if nothing ever had happened, as if he, a literal scientist, hadn't been ignored from the very beginning, practically being forced to begged for their attention.
Hot anger surged through his veins as he glared at the two men hostile. They finally seemed to notice him; Ewron waved at him with that confident smirk of his, while the guard silently watched him, slowly reaching for the weapon from his belt.
That hit him like a slap in the face. Clenching his fists, he turned on his heel, feeling that if he stayed there even a second longer, he'd do something he'd regret. Without looking back, he walked away, hearing Ewron's irritating laughter and his ever-snarky words behind him.
He wouldn't let himself be treated like that. The damn idiots would regret it.
The next day, before he could even formulate any plan for revenge, a Federation employee appeared at the reactor door, scaring him half to death when he spoke in his robotic voice from behind him. He informed him that he was expected at the federal facility, where he was to go with him immediately.
Multi merely grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling the familiar anger ignite his nerves.
Of course. They wanted to meet him now. Moments after they'd kissed that damn cockroach's ass.
"I'm busy," the scientist muttered, giving the employee a dismissive look and turning his back. "You'd better go get Ewron, I'm sure he'll be willing."
The employee was silent for a moment, until Multi glanced at him over his shoulder.
Then, before he even realized what was happening, the second man grabbed his forearm with a steely grip, causing the scientist to hiss in sudden pain.
"That wasn't a request."
With those words, reality suddenly vanished as a worker instantly teleported them to the Federation building.
As his feet touched the ground, he felt his knees buckle beneath him, his head spinning like he just got off a damn rollercoaster. Whatever these workers were using to teleport, it was diametrically opposed to the classic Warp Stones that ordinary people used.
He tried to catch his breath through his nose as nausea rose in his throat and his gag reflex refused to subside. He heard footsteps behind him, but before he could turn around, he was already vomiting onto the pristine white floor beneath him.
"I see you're not feeling well," a mechanical voice said behind him, this time not belonging to the worker.
Multi turned, still on his knees, looking up at the voice's owner. In front of him, with his hands behind his back, stood Cucurucho, tilting his head and smiling condescendingly with the painted lips on his mask.
The scientist froze in surprise for a second longer than he should have, not moving from his spot on the floor and momentarily forgetting his position.
"Lift him up," the voice said, this time to the worker still standing nearby. He obediently approached Multi, and before he could protest, he grabbed him under the armpits, violently pulling him up, and then grabbing his arm to help him maintain his balance.
"Good," Cucurucho nodded approvingly, turning back to Multi. "Welcome to the lab, Needyourblood. We look forward to a fruitful collaboration."