Chapter Text
Everybody gathered at the edge of the forest off the beaten path far off from the survivors’ cabin and the killers’ camp. It was kind of… Really strange being out here. It was clear that nobody was meant to be out here at all, but if they had any chance of getting out of this hellscape, they had to venture out into uncharted territory.
“…The code infrastructure is falling apart,” Lua commented, noting how the ground beneath them sometimes just disappear, however, there was still ground to walk on; sometimes the grass texture would stretch out, turn into another colour, or the blades of grass would curl in odd directions.
C00lkidd, intrigued, steered away from the rest of the group for a moment, fixated on a tree that looked as thin as paper and almost invisible unless you looked at it at an incredibly specific angle. It looked funny and he was intrigued; he wasn’t new to seeing thing break apart — hell, his determination to see his father again despite the clear barriers that separated the cabin and the camp is what ended in him breaking the invisible wall and leading everybody to eventually come together as one.
Curiously, he reached out to the paper-thin tree, and it fizzled out of sight, though not without stinging him though. Wincing and a bit spooked, he raced back to catch up with the others. “…I got stung by a tree,” He tells 007n7, who was looking baffled about what just happened and the absurdity of the words that just came out of his kid’s mouth.
“Did it hurt?” 007n7 queried, immediately worried as he inspected his son’s hand. There’s no telling what kind of weirdness one can contract out here in a place not meant to be explored in the first place.
“A little…” C00lkidd sheepishly murmured, trying his best to not make a big deal about it. What hurt more was the growing anxiety of what other monstrous chaos could be out here in a land where they were never meant to tread.
The group continues on, the admins leading the way until Shedletsky ended up bumping into seemingly thin air. “I… Guess we’re here,” He announces, taking a small, awkward step back.
Dusekkar pressed a hand towards the invisible barrier before them, running his hand up and down to try and get a feel for it. “This is the edge of the abyss. What is beyond these walls is a no man’s land,” He comments, the other survivors trying to punch through it or make a dent. No avail. Dusekkar then turned to John and Jason. “May you two be of service?”
They both perk up.
“Try to break this wall for us, please,” Dusekkar continued.
The two nodded and got to work. Surprisingly, they managed to make a crack. It even made a high-pitched ping as if to announce the grand achievements. The two back up, and Jason turns to Dusekkar and gives a small thumbs up.
Builderman steps forward, putting a hand towards the barrier and trying to feel where the opening was. With his fingers, he slowly carved out its grooves and edges. “Bit small though; it’s like a mouse hole.”
John looked away, disappointed; Jason just shrugged awkwardly, as if to say that was all they could manage.
Builderman sighed. “That’s alright. Ya’ll did yer best.”
“No passageway is too small for me, I believe,” Two Time chimed. Builderman nodded and stepped to the side, offering them to take a gander at it. Two Time knelt and tried to duck their head through. It was… Hilariously a struggle to do so.
They backed out, then got back up sheepishly. “Um… I have sorrowfully misjudged the dimensions of the mouse hole.”
Noob put a reassuring pat on their shoulder to commend their efforts.
“Why not try to cram Lua down there?” Noli suggested casually.
“I have wings larger than my body…” Lua murmured, glaring at him a little.
“Yeah? You’ve proved you could fit in all sorts of random positions and places before.” Noli nudged him, maybe a little too aggressively that it almost made Lua teeter.
“It’s worth the shot,” Shedletsky chimed, a small smile on his face. “Right, Lulu?”
Lua felt rather pressured with eyes on him now. He sighed, grumbling about how he hates himself for being peer-pressured into weird shenanigans. Of course, he got stuck, and they had to pull him out through his crippled legs and his tail.
And now Lua’s hiding behind Jason and sobbing.
Some of the others (mostly the admins) silently stare at Noli.
“Hey, I didn’t know he’d get stuck. He really has some bone-bending magic like a freaking cat. Exponent, back me up here!”
1x grumpily turned away with arms crossed and all.
“I could tr—” C00lkidd was about to volunteer next, until 007n7 tugged his hand and gave him that silent disapproving glare that made C00lkidd slowly turn away and pretend he hasn’t ever said anything at all.
Not like the others were planning to send a child to his possible death sentence anyway.
They all ponder; the others were either too tall or their body shape were not exactly ideal for something so small and narrow. What then…
“Builds,” Shedletsky piped up again, and then all eyes turn to the man in question.
“Oh, yeah, why haven’t we thought about that before? He’s tiny,” Chance chuckled lightheartedly.
“Hey, watch it…” Builderman grumbled, already feeling insecure again.
“No, no, friend, he has a point,” Dusekkar chirped, “Your unique figure may come in handy now. Not to mention, you would most likely be the most capable to traverse foreign terrain, no?”
Well, that was true… But then again, his biggest weakness is that he has a minor case of severe brain damage. The Spectre knows that Builderman’s mind is too active and energetic for such a small frame; this man can and will build a tank out of nothing but sticks and stones if he really wanted to, and the Spectre cannot have that, and thus a curse of immense sickness and physical torment was placed on him to deter him for thinking too hard. What good is Builderman if he cannot even think properly out there?
But everybody’s looking at him now.
And he did make a promise that he would do everything in his power to help everybody and keep them safe, which he supposes now extends to the killers as well.
Builderman heaved a small sigh. “Fine,” he says, getting on his knees and taking a gander at the hole. Unsurprisingly, he slips right through as if it were perfectly meant for him.
“He fits perfectly!” Elliot couldn’t help but cheer.
“Are we not worried what would happen to him out there?” Guest couldn’t help but comment, immediately raining on everybody’s momentarily celebration.
“If somethin’ were to happen to me, you’d probably know… Or the Spectre would let you know,” Builderman replied as he makes it halfway through the hole. “If I ain’t back in a couple hours, then you know I’m gone.”
And before anybody could try to stop him or say anything sappy, he gets a move on.
Reaching the other side, he was still technically visible to them, and they were all intrigued with watching him. He tried to speak up, but for whatever reason, there was something strange going on and they couldn’t hear him from the other side, and Builderman noticed that due their lack of reply, thus, he took in a deep inhale, waved at them before suddenly disappearing into the darkness.
Builderman continued to walk towards… Well, he’s not entirely sure where he’s walking to. Everything is pitch black. Everywhere he goes, there’s no shade, no light, no defined corners, but he isn’t bumping into anything yet, and there’s still ground to walk on, so that’s something he supposes.
Interestingly, there wasn’t even any footsteps nor can he hear the sound of his own breath. He can feel himself walking, but it’s as if he’s fallen into a state of limbo — some sort of odd state between mental consciousness and physically being comatose, like that strange feeling of coming out of REM sleep.
And more intriguingly, he can ponder on these things and take mental note of his observations being in this… Void… Thing.
That’s the scariest part.
He’s thinking too deep into this, and he hasn’t been hit in the head with the craziest headache yet or even worse, puking up. Shedletsky and Dusekkar would be proud of him, he thinks. That’s one time he’s managed to think for himself and the curse the Spectre inflicted on him hasn’t overcome all of his senses again.
…That was until a tight pounding in his chest had broken him out of his thoughts and had began overwhelming him.
He felt like he was drowning.
Felt like he was going into cardiac arrest.
Felt like he was being strangled.
Felt like he was being torn apart.
He couldn’t really objectively define it even if he tried.
“David?…”
A familiar voice echoes — one belonging to someone he hasn’t heard from in a very long while.
He opened his mouth, or at least he thinks he did, but no sound came out.
He tried to scream. His throat scratched and he felt the sting of screaming, but nothing came out of his lips!
What the hell was going on?!
“David, please!… Wake up!!”
Who’s… Calling to him?
Oh 2×2, he couldn’t move…
He can’t see anything in this abyss, and now all sense of touch has been taken from him too.
“You’re scaring me!”
That was then when his eyes shot wide open to the bright, yellow-ish light from… A ceiling of some sort.
Finally, light!
And…
“Erik?!” Builderman practically screamed as he instinctively jolts upwards, to which he immediately regrets as vertigo swiftly punishes him for it. He winced, head spinning like a speedy carousel, heart pounding fast like he ran a marathon, and his eyes finally clearing to see…
No…
“Dave, are you okay?!” Erik queried in a worried tone as he inched closer to his friend. “I just found you passed out on the floor!”
Builderman was stupefied. Absolutely stupefied. His lips parted. He wanted to scream, cry, say something. His mind was telling him to speak, but… There was nothing but a shaky gasp.
Erik didn’t seem to notice how stunned his friend looked and immediately threw his hands around him, pulling him into a hasty embrace. “Oh, gosh! I thought something bad had happened to you. I was just about to call the others!”
Builderman laid limp in his arms at first, before his fingers found its way to Erik’s sweater and gripping on the fabric like a lifeline; he was a bit sweaty, but Builderman always knew him to be like that; Erik liked to be active — always working even if it ki-
…
Well, even if others benefited from it more than he did, to say the least.
Erik eventually pulled away a few moments later after a little parting squeeze. “Seriously though, are you okay? Are you feeling alright??”
Builderman tried to find his words, embarrassingly hard as it seemed at first. “Where… How… W-What… W-Where are we?? ”
“In your office, silly!” Erik replied ever so simply. Builderman took a look around from his place down there on the rugged carpeted floor. Small office the size of a mediocre walk-in closet, wooden desk, fat yellowing Mac monitor and keyboard with files and folders scattered around, and some drawers and bookshelves in the back that were as untidy as the rest of the office, with some graphs and poorly designed blueprints haphazardly taped to the wall like a lunatic’s mad ramblings. Yep… This was his old office, alright.
“How are we… Wait, how are you alive?! Did the Spectre take you too??”
Erik tilted his head to the side, lifting up his iconic hat that had tipped down and hilariously covered his eyesight for a moment. “Spectre?…” He frowned, reaching out to Builderman and gingerly laying a hand on his forehead. “You better not be sick, are you? That would be bad.”
Builderman scooted away which seemed to offend Erik and leave him even more confused. Builderman looked stressed and afraid, rightfully so, but to Erik, it looked like his best friend resented him, and he had no clue why.
"You’re supposed to be…” Dead. No. Builderman can’t utter that word. If he dared mention what had happened, he would crumble. Not like he was mentally okay even after all these years later, but he didn’t dare name that pain that permanently corroded his heart. Not again. “…Nevermind.”
Erik was utterly baffled. “Okay?…” He murmured, helping Builderman get back up to his feet, even though Builderman still teetered a bit. “All this work must’ve gotten to you,” He concurred, “You’ve been working late nights again, haven’t you?”
Builderman doesn’t know how to answer that. He doesn’t even remember.
Erik took that as a ‘yes’ anyway. “You have!” He exclaimed, scoffing, “Dave, you can’t do this to yourself. It’s unhealthy!”
“I know…” Builderman found himself instinctively replying, even though he didn’t even know what he was agreeing to.
“If there’s ever any trouble, you know you have me to lighten the workload."
“I know…”
“And even then, nobody’s gonna scold you for taking breaks.”
“I know…”
Gosh, why did this feel so natural to him? One moment, he couldn’t find his voice at all, then the next he’s replying an automated phrase that’s been committed to memory and spoken a thousand times over, specifically in this kind of situation and especially to this person.
“Besides, there’s always Matt, Telamon, Lua, and Keith too,” Erik continued which made Builderman’s breath hitch. Telamon. It took everybody a while to stop calling Shedletsky that after he said he wishes to separate himself from that identity. “They’re… All here?”
“Why, yes. Where else would they be?” Erik gives him that look, like he’s wondering just what sorcery struck his best friend like this.
“Uh… Nevermind.”
Erik awkwardly nodded. He glanced to the desk with the stack of paperwork he had just placed moments ago. It was the reason why he came here anyway; to drop off some documents Builderman asked of him, but then his whole schedule just kind of fell apart after he saw said man collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
That to Erik was a sign that perhaps it’s time to leave the office for a bit and get some fresh air.
“How about we go and do something fun?” Erik suggested all of a sudden.
“Sorry, what…”
“Y’know, go to a movie or somethin’. Keith said he got tickets last week, remember?”
Of course, Builderman doesn’t remember. He remembers regularly going out to the movies with them, but not whatever this was. “Yeah…”
“Great. Clocking out early wouldn’t be so bad,” Erik smiled warmly as he dragged Builderman out of his office and into the hallway that was riddled with overflowing amount of boxes of random things, a lone water cooler on life support and some other things sprawled across the walls. Yep, the government definitely had everything controlled. This was the meeting place of the most powerful people in the world. Nobody had to know that their workplace looked like a glorified storage closet.
Truth be told, Builderman kind of missed it like this. Sure, it was nice that they expanded both in terms of building space and in teamwork, but nostalgia was a weird feeling, and it always made you long for the days when you had less, for some odd reason.
“Keith is already out with field work, though he should be finishing up now,” Erik continued, though Builderman was kind of not really paying attention, “And he’ll be getting Greg afterwards.” Builderman’s attention snapped like a kid hearing keys jingling. “…Greg?”
“Pfft, yeah— Your brother?” Erik looked at him ludicrously.
Oh lord, Builderman almost forgot about his younger brother. Well, not forget that he had a brother in a sense, but that he was also a part of this too, even if he wasn’t as well-known as the rest of them. Gosh, he hasn’t seen his brother in ages.
Even before Forsaken, they were growing up and away from each other. They were both chasing dreams and ambitions that led to different paths. Sure, Greg still helped around every now and again, but he had his own life detached from David’s, and they both respected each other’s decisions even if it meant separating.
Builderman always wondered if his brother ever missed him too, even after Forsaken.
He always wondered if he ever had nieces or nephews now, and if his brother ever told them about him; maybe not as Builderman — the ruler of Robloxia ; maybe as just the silly older brother who almost died with broken bones tryna prove that the rocket wagon he made as a kid was peak technology.
As if Builderman already accepted this weird new reality that Erik was here, holding and talking to him; now he’s thrown in somebody else he dearly missed.
“Dave, you okay?” Erik called out. Turns out Builderman zoned out again at the mention of his brother.
“Huh?— Oh, I, uh…” Builderman awkwardly cleared his throat and forced his ever iconic lopsided grin. “I’m fine. Just a little… Woozy, ‘s all. Passed out on the floor and all that, hahah…”
Erik, though obviously concerned with the sudden strange attitude, forced a comforting smile back, nodding at his answer and continued ambling through the hall with his friend in tow, and Builderman immediately dropped the act and went back to acting like a severely confused mopey donkey again.
Builderman began drowning Erik’s rambling out as they continued walking down the hall. Everything felt a little overwhelming and nothing at all made sense. Is this one of the Spectre’s tricks? Had he been sent back in time? Did he actually die die and this was some kind of… Heaven? He didn’t really think he deserves that last part, truth be told.
And as if things couldn’t get any weirder, at the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw an oddly familiar yellow figure reflected in the mirror he just passed by.
Baffled, he paused in his tracks and retracted his steps, actually facing the mirror this time. Albeit instead of his actual reflection, he saw… A past version of himself?
Staring back at him was a version of what he used to be — a lighter shade of youthful yellow with scruffier and longer hair tied into a ponytail, he had less wrinkles and dark, heavy bags under his now sullen bluebell eyes. He had a yellow-blue hardhat to match as well as a black long-sleeved collared shirt and an orange safety vest atop of it that had had a charming variety of pens and a loved-to-death notepad all crammed in the vest’s chest pocket. He used to have glasses too before he switched to contacts because his glasses always snapped when he was out doing field work.
He couldn’t help but touch himself, watching his otherwise calloused hands appear smoother and cleaner in the reflection in the mirror. Gosh, he looked like such a dork…
He looked down at himself — away from the mirror this time — and he was still grey, and he still had his absurd fashion sense of a scuffed dark grey hoodie with a dark red sweater inside.
Is this what they see him as — the one in the reflection?
It would make sense as to why Erik never questioned much about his appearance, but it was still jarring to say the least.
Suddenly…
CRASH!
Shaken by the loud noise, Builderman hastily moves along, darting towards the origin of the ruckus where it turns out Erik has also already gone.
“What the heck happened here??” Erik exclaimed as he stared at the mess that was Telamon, a pumpkin-less toothy blue deer Dusekkar and a much younger Lua — a good ten years younger in fact. Builderman saw the three and was rather dumbfounded to see the three like this again — especially Telamon. Gosh, he was gorgeous… Not that Builderman didn’t love him whatever he was — Telamon or Shedletsky — or whatever he chooses to be next, but seeing him like this again just like when they first met made Builderman’s heart skip a beat. Seeing him like this again gave him quite a whiplash of when everything felt a little more magical, and when they were wild in love.
Oh, how he wished he could go back to that again…
“For the record, I have nothing to do with this. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen,” Dusekkar huffed, standing to the side like an unwilling spectator of their chaotic madness. It was quite jarring to say the least; to see what Dusekkar really looked like underneath. Not that he didn’t always know, but still. If this was before Shedletsky made him that pumpkin, then this must be really far back into their shared history.
“I was just trying to teach this seal how to fly,” Telamon excused with the cross of his arms.
Lua looked down to the floor from where he sat, wings drooping in shame.
Builderman almost forgot this part; Shedletsky and Lua were so close nowadays that he had almost forgotten the days of when Telamon used to resent him because of how strange the new kid was. Builderman couldn’t blame him, really — Lua Sr. and his ex-wife, Hina — the goddess of the sea, wanted everything from the gene pool so desperately that they ended up creating a confusing, dysphoric mutated son — a Spix’s Macaw on land and a Hawaiian monk seal in water. Hilariously enough, Lua was absolutely terrible at flying and at swimming.
“Well, we admire your determination to help him learn, but there’s better ways to do so instead of making him jump off of stuff, especially indoors,” Erik sighed, “Right, Dave?”
Builderman almost flinched, busy helping Lua off of the floor. “Huh? Wha— Oh, um…” He cleared his throat, glancing over to Telamon next. “Yeah, what Erik said,” He murmurs awkwardly, clearly not used to all this scolding and leader talk like he used to do a long time ago. “Maybe be nicer to him next time and take things a little slower. Try something easier like practice hovering off the ground first.”
“He’s just a kid, Tela, not some hardened swordfighter you usually get to face off with on The Heights,” He says, the old nickname slipping off his tongue so casually.
Telamon seemed to pause. Builderman’s intrusion making him feel rather sheepish. “Understood…” He murmured, sneaking a glance to his boss, whom he didn’t exactly realize was already sneakily trying to disappear back into the hallway and not mentally implode.
Erik follows him after explaining a few things to the odd trio — most especially asking for Dusekkar to watch over him… Which is probably what set off the tooth deer’s decades long protective streak over the duo of dimly-witted whimsy far into the future.
Erik and Builderman head somewhere outside of the HQ — which wasn’t the twin-towered behemoth that it was today; far from it actually. This one was still a lot smaller; a lot more quaint and honestly looked more like a glorified motel than a serious office building.
No wonder so many other countries thought Robloxia was a joke at first.
The two get a move on, passing by all sorts of mundane landmarks that had Builderman gasping and staring as if he hasn’t lived in these same old streets — growing up with it through every passing decade.
Erik was a bit confused, but he found it rather amusing nonetheless.
Eventually, they met up with Keith and greg by the movie theatre, and of course, Builderman is, once again, stupefied at everything and everybody much to the others’ confusion.
“Somebody almost slipped through the baseplate again because someone forgot to anchor the park,” says Keith, narrowing his eyes behind sunglasses at Erik as his lavender ears twitched in slight irritation.
“…Whoopsie,” Erik gave a sheepish grin followed by an apology.
Meanwhile, Greg has walked up to his brother while Erik and Keith were still having some work-related discussion. “Why’re you staring at me?”
Maybe because I haven’t seen you in forever and I miss you.
No. Builderman is not a sappy mess… Or at least outwardly, he’s not. “I’m not staring,” he huffed.
“Sure, you were just absently staring into the abyss in my general direction,” Greg snickered as he ambled towards his brother who was trying not to be obvious about actually staring at him — noting the dumb little light blue crop sweater he always liked wearing, and all the trinkets hanging off the belt on his denim jeans. Greg was always weird like that — obsessed with conspiracy theories, lucky charms, and ‘cracking the code’.
Builderman never understood ‘the code' and what the hell was going on, but his brother was probably on crack with all of the dumb stuff he always proposes and believes in, that’s for sure. Elvis Presley still alive? Builderman always scoffs at that one, ridicules the others and often laughs at his brother for his nonsense. Looking at him now, Builderman would do anything to be able to hear him ramble again.
Hell, Greg was already off with his skimble-skamble anyway — on and on with explaining all about the movie they were about to watch.
As much as Builderman tries to focus on his words, he can’t; he’s more focused on picking out the pitch and volume of his brother’s voice; noting the intonations and the vowels as if he doesn’t commit every detail to memory, his brother will slip from him again; the immense stress and brain damage will make him forget his family.
Unfortunately, Greg noticed anyway.
"Greg turned to Erik, “Eriiiik, what did you to Dave? He’s being extra weird again.”
“I’m not being weird—” Builderman tried to excuse but Erik just had to take the cat out of the bag: “I found him passed out in his office earlier. Guess overexhaustion made him weird.”
“I am not exhausted. I got energy for days, and—” Builderman’s eyes dart around frantically before it lands on a poster of the movies’ schedules, “Oh, crap, look. The move’s almost starting!” Actually, he has no idea what they’re watching, but it’s the afternoon now and the poster mentions a movie playing around this time.
Thankfully, the others had been distracted by the time dawning upon them and Builderman sighed that they dropped the subject… Not without giving him the awkward side glance though.
Inside the theatre, once they’re settled, Greg leans over to Keith, whispering, “Dave is weird. I’ve been taking his popcorn and he hasn’t said anything.”
Unfortunately for Greg, Builderman — who had been dissociating throughout most of the first act of the movie — overheard him and darted him the nastiest side glare as he dives a hand into Greg’s popcorn bucket and steals back fistfuls several times, staring at Greg as he shoves it in his mouth in the most petty older sibling way possible.
Greg is left to helplessly stare in agony. He tried to stop him, but he couldn't. Builderman finally realized what was happening, and he’s back for revenge.
Keith and Erik ended up being distracted by watching the scene unfold as they desperately hold back a chuckle.
Eventually though, they continue watching; Builderman, not so much.
He grasped the general story beats of the film: two pitiful orphaned siblings get hexed by the dastardly king who tried to use them for his own evil gain. The older sister gets killed, while her little brother miraculously survives through plot armour.
The brother has since then grown up training to be strong and powerful to avenge his sister. Builderman was sure that the rest of the movie and the guy’s training arc were pretty cool and all, but he couldn’t help but think more about how the hell did he get there.
First, he was in Forsaken and now he was back reliving old memories he can’t even fathom were possible to relive again. Everything was confusing and considering Erik’s baffled reaction to when Builderman brought up the mention of the Spectre, he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to ask for some help from the others.
“Little Sparrow, where’re you going?” yelled the sister in the movie. Wait… Wasn’t she supposed to be dead? And why the hell is the brother a kid again here? He was supposed to be a grown adult now… Man, Builderman had really missed that much, huh?
It was the dead of night and they were in a quaint cottage in the countryside for some reason. Builderman thought they were homeless?… “Mum n’ Dad will be upset if you leave!” Was this some sort of flashback?
Sparrow played deaf to his sister’s words, making a run for it across the flower-bedazzled fields and out of the ominous gate that barricaded him in the utopia like a cage.
Something something Sparrow turns back to his present adult self… Blah blah blah… “It was all a dream” says another character after the others shake Sparrow awake.
It was all very weird and Builderman began dissociating again after that, thinking more about the odd situation he’s found himself in and wondering how he’s gonna get himself out of it.
He absnet-mindedly continued watching. Sparrow on-screen looked so lost, confused, and horrifed. Builderman couldn’t help but heavily relate to the hero’s struggles.
By the time the movie ended, the sun was already setting. The four had rather mixed reactions — some more dissatisfied with the ending than others, of which Greg was rather verbal about, however, of course, Builderman wasn’t really paying attention. Thankfully, nobody questioned him when his only opinion was “Oh yeah, Sparrow’s cool” and nothing more than that, no fiery, passionate tirade like his brother had.
The quartet were on their way back to the HQ. Technically, they do have homes, but considering how busy they are, they found it easier to simply have sleepovers. They happen to fall asleep at their offices a lot anyway. Albeit, of course, they’re not completely no-nonsense-grumps, they still allow themselves some R&R from time to time, like this one.
They walked along the bay area, discussing about all sorts of topics now, meanwhile Builderman found himself staring over the sea.
It was beautiful, yes, especially with the golden hues of the sun setting over the horizon, and yet there was something really weird that Builderman seemed to be rather fixated on — a ripple in the water that bubbled eratically; even weirder was its close proximity. It wasn’t super close that you could simply reach out and touch it right at the shore. No, you still had to swim to it, but it wasn’t at an impossibly faraway distance either. Builderman thought at first that it was just an odd school of fishes passing by; thought that it was just one of those strange phenomena that you wouldn’t have thought was actually real nor possible until you witnessed it yourself.
Even after a whole minute or so, it still wasn’t going away.
Erik noticed Builderman staring. “What’s up?”
Builderman doesn’t even dare glance at him, still attracted to the enigmatic anomaly like a guest to a generator. “I think there’s a bug with the water physics.”
Erik eventually looks over to where Builderman was looking. “What do you mean?”
“That weird ripple in the ocean. It’s been going on for a while.”
“I… Don’t see anything?”
Builderman huffed, ridiculing Erik as it was impossible he couldn’t see it because where Builderman was standing, he could see that Erik is directly looking at it. “What do you mean you don’t see it? It’s literally right there.”
Erik squints, “I dunno what to tell ya, Dave. I don’t see anything going on in the water. The waves are as calm as it can be.”
“You’re joking…” Builderman groaned.
“I’m sorry, Dave,” Erik frowned. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Builderman sighed. He can never really be upset with his best friend. “It’s fine. Don’t think too hard about it.”
Erik nodded, noticing how Keith and Greg were already pretty far ahead, busy talking so animatedly for them to even notice that Erik and Builderman were slacking behind. Erik turns back to Builderman — worry written all over his face. “I think you’re just stressed, Dave. Greg told me about it once — too much stress and exhaustion can make you have some pretty weird hallucinations.”
He was not hallucinating!… Was he?
Was this whole culmination of reliving his memories just one big lucid dream?
Builderman hated how he was starting to doubt himself.
Suddenly, Erik took hold of his friend’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go home. You need rest.”
Home.
Calling your workplace home had always been a rather silly and masochistic concept, but it was true; the HQ was like home; the admins were his family.
Upon returning to the Hq, they had a short meeting about next week’s agenda along with a brainstorming session about things Builderman didn’t understand.
“We’ve been discussing this for about two months now,” Erik had told him.
“Oh, yes, of course. I remember now,” Builderman excused, and yet he spent the whole meeting reading compiled folders because he really didn’t get much of what they were talking about. Even worse when they all noticed his seemingly uncharacteristic silence.
They expected him to pitch in. Hell, to take over and ramble for days; he was the ideas guy after all; he was the one whose mind raced faster than anyone could keep up while Erik was always the one who could stop him when needed and put his convoluted madness into words. But right now, he was nosedeep in papers, scanning paragraphs to try and get a grasp of the conversation at hand.
They all stared at him at one point, expecting him to say something, but being conditioned to be mellow-brained, or else he faces nausea and vomiting thanks to the Spectre’s tampering, has made Builderman’s fast brain grow lame. He wasn’t as fast-on-his-feet quick-thinker as he was before he ended up in Forsaken.
Nowadays, his mind often comes up blank whe he’s put on the spot like this.
He hits Erik with a look, and, thankfully, Erik notices and gets the memo. “He’s probably tired. Let’s not bother him much.“
The others take his word and move on.
Builderman thanks 2×2 every day for Erik.
The meeting draws on for much longer than estimated, which, if Builderman’s memories serve him well, isn't all that surprising, truth be told. They get sidetracked very often, so instead of sticking to the planned three discussion points, they’ve ended segueing to at least ten or more in the span of a few hours before realizing how terribly late into the night it is.
Lua already conked out a few minutes ago, and Telamon excused to leave now with Lua in his arms like a protective mother bird, but he definitely doesn’t care about Lua or anything. He’s just being a nice colleague and bringing him somewhere better than passing out on a wooden table, that’s all there is.
Dusekkar excused to tag along to make sure the two don’t end in chaos again, and they all let them leave.
Eventually, Builderman decided to leave as well, whilst Erik and Keith decided to stay because they had some other things to talk about together.
Builderman makes his way back to his office, letting his hand pass by the walls and furniture as he walked through the hallway, feeling all of the grooves and edges that felt oh-so familliar and yet so foreign.
When he arrived, he sat and pulled out some pad paper… That he couldn’t find at first, because apparently, his stuff was all over the place. How did his scratch pad end up in a bookshelf, he wasn’t sure, but it was probably a sleep-deprived mindless decision that lead to that circumstance.
He began to write, listing observations so far which was already a scary thing to do because he was fully prepared to pass out again thanks to the Spectre’s tampering of his wellness, but surprising, nothing.
He kept writing, then he hit a roadblock…
He tapped his pencil against the paper in a frustrated manner. He was tired…
Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to take a break.
With a sigh, he wrote a letter to himself on the side. He can’t afford to get too comfortable here.
He had to remember that the others were waiting; they were counting on him to find something beyond the abyss, come back with, hopefully, good news.
It was super Stockholm syndrome-y to want to come back to the cabin, but there were people he needed to save.
“Heeeeey,” A familiar voice interrupts. It was Greg.
Builderman panicked and threw the pad in the middle of other random junk on his desk. “Hey,” he replied. “What’re you doing here?”
Greg sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him and pulling up a stool over to where Builderman sat, placing an open thermos and two cups on the desk. “Made you some tea.”
“Oh, uh, thanks?”
“Maybe I can make you stop being weird.”
“Ah… You’re going to hex me with tea. I see it how it is…” Builderman glared even though it was a joke, and Greg burst out into a fit of chuckles.
Builderman couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s reaction.
“Hey, I’m tryin’ to be nice here,” Greg answered as he poured Builderman a cup.
Builderman murmured a small thanks, taking a whiff of the tea and blowing on it a little. “What’s in this?” He asks, taking a sip anyway because he trusts his brother.
“Black tea with some lemon, ginger, turmeric, black pepper, apple cider vinegar, and a clove of garlic.”
Builderman gagged and immediately almost spat out the tea but his mind malfunctioned and he swallowed it all instead, scorching hot. He put the cup down on the desk, slamming a fist as he was thrown into a pathetic coughing fit. “GREGORY, WHAT THE FU-”
“LANGUAGE!”
“Who puts garlic and black pepper in TEA?!”
“I do! It’s supposed to help since I was sure you were sick.”
“Ma never made us drink boiled salad of doom n’ despair when we were down!”
“I’m bein’ an inventor, Dave. I thought you trusted me!”
“I trust you with my tools; not to make me drink your stupid hippie concoction!”
Telamon walked past the office, paused just long enough to hear someone yell, "WHO PUTS GARLIC IN TEA?!" before deciding, with remarkable wisdom, that whatever was happening in there was none of his business.
He kept walking.
Whatever the hell was going on in there, the short cowboys could figure it out.